"Got a day and a half of grime on me," he growls. "I wanna clean up." I step aside as he pushes gruffly past me, heading for the bathroom. I follow close behind, watching the muscular globes of his firm buttocks flash at me from the skin-gripping black leather biker's pants he's wearing. I grow light-headed as I inhale the potent, masculine odors emanating from his sturdy frame. Sexy aromas swirl about me as we move. Pure sweat mixed with rich leather - a true aphrodisiac! It roars through my veins right into my groin.
I hand him a fresh towel. He grabs it, throws it on the floor, and starts to strip off right in front of me. First, he unzips his tight biker's jacket. He's not wearing a shirt beneath it. He pulls the jacket off. His sweaty torso is gleaming with well-defined muscle and is covered with dark, matted damp hair. The jacket's leather aroma is overwhelmed by his masculine underarm odor, the smell of raw power. Its effect on me is more intense than a popper. He seems to wave the garment in the air between us before dropping it, with a smirk, to the floor. He can see the sexual impact odors are having on me. The gym shorts I have on begin to tent out. He draws in a deep breath, expanding his broad chest. He stretches. He slides one hand up his body to a breast, pinches the hard, dark nipple, and watches me staring at the suggestive display.
"Pull off my boots!" The command is given with a sneer. Without thinking about it, I kneel immediately and pull on an outstretched boot, easing it off firmly. Then the other. I stand up as he takes off his socks, wafting each in the air. The intensity of strong odors bathing us is multiplied, increasing my arousal.
He struggles to remove the tight leather that hugs his ass so excitingly. He wiggles his hips erotically as the biker pants inch off his muscular frame. Finally, he is able to let them drop to the floor. I want to drop with them, to get a close smell of hot crotch stink and wet leather, but I stand there staring at the sight of him. He is naked but for a well worn, sweat-soaked, jockstrap. It is fully packed and so wet I can see colors of exciting flesh beneath. He turns slowly, like a performer in a muscle contest - bulging, rounded pouch like a beacon - showing off his body and its round, firm, molded ass, framed in the straps of the jock. He slips his fingers under its waistband and begins to inch the jock downward.
"Guess you'll want to be alone," I say, acting awkward but aroused.
He turns to face me, still pushing on the jock strap. Out flops a large, semi-erect cock. His quiet, masculine voice is like a scratchy whisper, demanding, yet enticing: "Stay. Keep me company. You don't mind watchin' a guy shower, do you." It wasn't a question.
"I'd love to! Uh, I mean, sure, I'd love to stay and keep you company."
He smiles and lowers the jock strap exposing a set of large balls in a sweaty, low hanging scrotum. He steps out of the jockstrap and tosses it over to me. "Here. Throw this away for me. It's old and worn out. Biking sure is hard on the crotch." He grimaces, slides both hands between his legs and palms his balls as if to demonstrate how abused they are.
My mouth drops open as I snag the jock strap from mid-air. I have no intention of throwing away such a treasure. A whiff of its heavy male crotch odor makes me light-headed. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. It is the most overpoweringly stimulating sexual odor I have ever smelled. It pounds through my body and thuds into my groin where it explodes in my developing hard-on with a noticeable outward thrust against the flimsy fabric of my gym shorts.
I open my eyes, delighted by my reaction to the smell. I hold the jockstrap in front of me and stare at it. His eyes narrow. He spreads his legs apart, rubs one hand through his moist crotch hair, thrusts his hips forward and snarls, "That fuckin' jock stench turns you on, Faggot! Here, try sniffin' the real thing! Get your goddamn nose down here, in my crotch, where it belongs, Cocksucker! Right now!" The low, gravely voice betrays excitement, not anger; arousal, not annoyance. His growing, impressive erection signals his interest and his intention.
Desire overwhelms me. I sink slowly to my knees at his command, still smelling the jock strap in my hand, an excited feeling of helpless surrender overcoming any thought of refusal, a gnawing flow of sexual agitation surging through my groin. I feel my erection thrust against and push through the elastic waistband of my shorts. I am completely aroused, stiffly erect, subjugated by the smell of him and by the sight of him. He knows it. He can see it. And he loves it!
A strong hand grabs the back of my head and pulls my cheek forcefully against a wet, hard-muscled thigh. The coarse hair of his scrotum tickles my nose. I close my eyes. I inhale. Then I inhale deeply. I am amazed by the power of the aroma of his balls. They smell rich, pungent, and more potent than anything else I have ever smelled. I look at them and continue smelling them, as the odor burns itself into my brain.
My tongue eases out and touches a testicle. Acrid! A sweet, bitter, sour, salty, delicious flavor starts me drooling. I lick. I lap. His balls draw up in their sac and tighten against the cockbase. I tongue until every crevice of the crinkled, tight, squirming flesh on his nutsac is sucked clean of the precious sweat and funk.
His now full erection looms over me, pulsating, as he watches me from above, one hand in my hair, the other rubbing his chest and tits. His balls smell so good and taste so terrific, his funky, unwashed cock will be an incredible experience, I know. But first, the moist, sweaty cockhair he had rubbed demands attention. I slide my tongue up around the base of his thick cock and push into the dense, wiry, dark hair, sucking and biting as I move through the flavorful patch. His cock rubs against the side of my face, presses against an ear, and throbs from the contact as I lick and suck every millimeter of his lower abdomen. I keep inhaling, savoring odors. I follow the path of cockhair to his tight, tiny navel with a sexy smell and taste of its own.
As I rise up, I lick and lap the moist hair of his chest, sucking and nipping at the firm, taut tit he pushes against my mouth. As I aim toward a major goal, an armpit, he suddenly demands, "Strip!" It surprises me and I look into his eyes. He is aroused and eager. I pull my tee shirt over my head and drop my gym shorts. I am naked, sporting a solid erection, completely turned on by his terrific tastes, odors and commands.
He rewards my prompt obedience by raising one hand to the back of his head, exposing a dark, hair lined, fleshy armpit. With a whimper, I lean my face into the warmth of the pit. My cock touches his as I breathe in the moist, thick scent. For a moment, I think that the smell and the touch will give me an orgasm right here and now. My cock throbs. His other arm encircles my waist, drawing me in tightly against his strong body. "Steady," he instructs in a hoarse whisper. He easily reads my body.
"Yeah," he sighs, as my tongue bathes the savory cavity. His hips press rhythmically against mine, massaging our cocks, urging on my continued worship of his sublime body. We shift; he puts his other hand on the back of his head and I tongue my way across his chest to the fresh, ripe matching armpit. Dark, moist, warm, and, above all, scented with the unique aroma of power, sex and life. The smell revitalizes my vigorous tongue bathing.
He turns, lifting his elbow over my head, sliding his hip against my cock, moving till his back is to me. My drooling gets heavier. Saliva glands go into overdrive. My cock is pressing against the cleft of his firm, damp buttocks, throbbing against the entry to Sniffer's Heaven. Hurrying, I lick the salty, sweet, flavorful moisture from his back. Then I linger at the small of the back so I can enjoy the whiffs of aromas rising from below.
With broad sweeps of my wet tongue, I bathe every contour of his muscular buttocks. Biking has given him incredible development. His ass is well rounded, solid, high and taut-skinned, with a fine downy covering of soft hair that tickles my lips as I suck, kiss and lave the twin mounds.
The salty, fresh taste in the crease at the top of his thigh beneath the buttocks is dazzling. As my tongue touches his thigh, he sucks in his breath noisily. I've hit a nerve! He spreads his feet wider apart. My tongue swabs at the firm thigh and licks downward. As I get to the back of the knee, lapping and sucking, he draws in his breath again, with a hiss of pleasure.
My tongue travels upwards, over the meaty thigh, onto the muscular ass, dips momentarily into the heady taste in the cleft at the high-point, then goes down over the other ass cheek onto the other thigh. The result is the same: a sharp intake of breath, showing his pleasure and proving the sensitivity of his thighs. As I slide my tongue to the back of his knee, again hearing another hiss of intense pleasure, I begin kneading his buttocks with both hands.
He pushes his ass into my massaging hands. I push and separate the halves, opening the gates to the glories of his wonderfully odorous, inner flesh. He bends over at the waist, exposing the target even more completely. I stare and smell, conscious that I am near orgasm without having touched my throbbing erection as it pulsates between my squatting legs, oozing lube. I realize he, too, must be near orgasm. I want to hurry, but I want to make time stand still. I want my cake, and I want to eat it too. So I eat it.
My nose presses in between the thick mounds of asscheeks inhaling the richness of the dense, warm, moist aroma. The pointed tip of my tongue flicks out and touches the very center of the meaty, round, puckered orifice. Electricity passes between the two of us at the touch of tongue to flesh.
"Yeah! Eat that raunchy asshole, Fucker!" he grunts in an excited, throaty whisper. He presses himself back against my mouth. The sexy command triggers an animal response in me and I lap and suck, lick and tongue, forcing myself in between his cheeks, till I have savored every minute detail of that dark crevice. I lick clean every surface, and then focus attention on the heart of the area, the asshole itself.
He begins groaning, quietly, as I suck and probe, thrusting my tongue in deeply, delighting in the array of flavors and textures. My probing is met with rhythmic thrusts from him. His sphincter loosens and several inches of tongue work into his inner being. Suddenly, he clamps down on the tongue, tightening the sphincter.
"Ummmm," we groan, simultaneously. "My God," I think, "I'm going to CUM!" I withdraw my tongue quickly. I stand up, grab his hips, and touch the tip of my well-lubricated cock to his asshole. He pushes back against it, sucking in a bit of it. I press forward as he pushes back and several inches slid in tightly. "Uh," we grunt, in unison. "I'm cumming!" I warn, unable to hold back.
"Wow!" he sighs, and he does something with his ass to pull and suck on my cock, getting it in even deeper. I suck in my breath, tasting the juices of him in my mouth, smelling the amazing odors of him, and I blast off into him with uncontrolled vigor, shot after shuddering shot, bucking my hips, fucking into him with excitement. Blast after blast. His athletic body bucks back against mine in tempered rhythm, increasing the pleasure of my orgasm and drawing out fluids till I have to say, "Stop!" with a laugh. I fall onto his back and slowly withdraw my sensitive meat. I kneel down, looking at the steamy asshole.
I have an overwhelming urge to suck my cum out of his ass.
He turns around slowly. I see his truncheon of a cock standing rigid, moving towards me, quivering before his washboard stomach. Man, do I want to suck this cock, I think to myself, as I watch it move. He stands above me, hands on hips, legs apart, big balls up tight against base of the mammoth erection, and waits for my attentions.
First, I sniff. The unwashed cock, sticky with pre-cum drooling from the deep slit in the dark crimson cockhead, reflects odors of the rest of him, yet holds an individual smell unlike the others. A distinct cock smell. Unmistakable in men, but specific for each individual man. His specific cock smell is a heavenly stench, stronger than any other I've known, and activated by the heavy, juicy flow of sticky pre-cum that seems to intensify the aroma. I breathe it in, deeply.
Then, I taste. The fat, crimson glans, lipped by rolling flanges, stands above dark folds of skin. My tongue slithers under the flanges, probing the folds of cockskin. The taste is exquisite. The sticky, succulent fluid in the skin seems to flash from my taste buds directly to my testicles. They churn, pull up tight in their sac, and reinvigorate my cock, which I grab in one hand, while fingers from the other hand toy with his asshole. He starts pumping his hips at me. He wants in. He is as hot as he can get without exploding. He is ready. But I take the time to savor every fold of cockskin, every sticky surface of cockhead and shaft, lapping and licking at this perfect cock. It gleams in throbbing anticipation.
Finally, I suck. The broad cockhead slides into my mouth and fills it. He is big. My tongue works its sandpapery magic on the smooth, sensitive surfaces, swirling and pulling, sucking and drawing. My hand pounds my meat with an independent flurry and I know I am going to cum with him. He gasps, touches the top of my head, hammers his ass towards me, and cums! The first gush catches me by surprise and almost chokes me. It is so forceful that it goes partly up my nose and partly down my throat. I swallow. He spurts again, as forcefully, but I am ready. The viscous, hot fluids wash the acidic tastes from my mouth and refresh me with a wonderfully clean, sort of chemically neutralized, feeling for a moment. Then I can really taste the delicious flavors of his rich semen. Echoes of each body fluid I've been tasting can be found in his sperm. He fills my mouth, over and over and over again. As he cums, I shoot cum up onto his balls. I love it!
And I love him. You see, we've been lovers for eleven years, faithful to each other, happily living out real-life fantasies to increase each other's sexual pleasures. This biker fantasy, this Sweaty Cyclist, is one of our favorites. We do it on weekends, when he can go a couple of days without bathing. Well, let's say a day or two before being Bathed!
Acting out fantasies can be terrific. Try it!