Loading...The smell of autumn was in the air, as the gentle breeze kissed my cheeks. Strolling through the farmer’s market on an early Saturday morning, the sun was just starting to emerge. The rays of light dancing around me, I couldn’t think of a better place I’d rather be.
Strong, fresh brewed coffee in hand, I passed the vendors, who were still putting out the newly made trinkets, paintings, floral displays, and the like.
I spied another perfume merchant, and let out the familiar sigh. My thoughts already went where I didn’t want them to go. Damn. Why must he always find a way in? His cologne, not available in the US anymore, never stops me from hoping I will someday find it. I’d given up on the shopping malls, but never explored this avenue. The vendor was not American, so maybe he does carry it. What the hell.
“Do you have Versace?” I asked tentatively.
“Yes, we have a few,” he answered, pointing to the section on the left. I see the same ones that the stores carry, nothing out of the ordinary.
Then, suddenly…is it? I notice the blue cylinder when I hear myself gasp, similar to discovering money in a winter coat from last season. “Is that Blue Jeans Man??” I ask, my voice an octave higher than I anticipated.
He hands it to me, and I am beaming, as if I was just given the winning lottery ticket. I rummage through my purse, pay the man, and head to my car. I slide into the seat, close the door, and pull the shiny bottle out of the container. Removing the cap, I place the tip under my nose, deeply inhaling the spicy aroma. “Oh, God…” This is what he smells like. I’m already wet. My eyes glaze over and my thoughts wander…… no intention of changing course.
Looking around the open parking lot, it’s still quite empty, and I’ve parked far enough away from the beaten path. I put the cologne on the seat next to me. Slowly I unbuckle my jeans, and carefully pull the zipper down, while watching through the windows for any sign of life. Still no one around. I shimmy my jeans down my thighs, so that they sit right under my knees, giving me full freedom of movement. My hot pink satin thong, framed with royal blue lace and tiny yellow bow in front, has my pleasure all over the middle, shamefully telling my dirty little secret.
I pick up the bottle and spray the cologne all over me, my wrists, abdomen, and creamy white thighs. “What have you reduced me to?” I cry, the silent answer deafening.
My hand finds the top of my panties and gently caresses my pussy over the fabric, rubbing on top of my swollen hot clit. Moaning softly, I arch my head back against the leather, as hungry fingers nudge the fabric string over my bare buttery lips, feeding in a pool of sweet, slick juice.
This won’t take long.
I rub the tiny bud, spread my legs, and see my pretty pink petals opening up like a little flower, the folds warm and welcoming. I take my wet fingers and brush them against my lips, my tongue lapping up strawberry lip gloss now infused with my heat. Biting and sucking them so sweetly, just like I would do with his dick. “Oh, God,” I whimper, with tender cries of longing, wishing he was here, his hand around my neck, claiming me as his possession. So close now… My limbs tense and release, again and again, as my body shutters in complete and utter rapture. “Please, take me,” I gasp, unable to wait any longer, my chest aching and heaving in distress.
The wave after wave of orgasmic shocks seem to go on forever, as I continue petting myself furiously. I whisper his name over and over as I climax, imagining looking deeply in his eyes, as the last crest overtakes me. I let out a deep satisfied breath, and take in the smell of his cologne and the musky scent of my sex, mingled together in a hot steamy soup of passion. The only thing that is missing is the essence of him…his skin….his sweat….his taste.
I languidly pull up my jeans, dry the tear tracks and smooth my hair. Placing his scent in my purse, I exit the car and start out again on the rustic gravel path. Shaking my head from side to side, I can’t help but ruefully smile, still perplexed by my addiction to one who I have only communicated with through the written word. Albeit one sided, still as powerful. The journey continues…