The Smell

As soon as the door is shifted ajar, your nostrils are assaulted. A disgusting union of soggy flesh and unsealed cum entrenches your household, wafting from every nook and cranny. The unfiltered stench of sex is unmistakeable, and it pains you as you slowly conclude that the origin lies not in your living room, but upstairs. In your bedroom.

You slowly begin your begrudging ascent upstairs, dreading what awful scene might await you. The silence informs your imagination, realising that you weren’t having to face the act itself, but it’s aftermath. Your mind races through all of your worst case scenarios, like the one where lovely Michelle is covered head to toe in sperm, or the one where she passed out and is now totally oblivious to the consequences of her sex, or the one where her teasing voice is muffled by the cum staining her beautiful lips, or the one where her dress is-

“Hey honey, how was work today? You seem pretty tired. Heading to bed already?”

The familiar voice emanates from downstairs, and you quickly peer over the bannister. Michelle is standing nonchalantly in the kitchen entrance, her left hand gently resting on her cocked hips. She’s obvious clean, a fact you can assure as she is stark naked. Her sublimely feminine form mixes with the overpowering musk of sex to completely blank your mind. All you can consider is every possible scenario in which to ravage her body.

“Well don’t just wait for the rooster to caw! Get changed and get back down here, I made us steak” she states with a playful smile. She turns on her heel and heads back to the kitchen, which just about knocks you out of your trance. Somewhat embarrassed, you continued up and changed into casual nightwear. The stench never escapes your presence.