weepingwillow

A faint trace of perfumed oil lit a small swath of her delicate wrist. The smell that followed as she passed me was mildly intoxicating. It smelled like the first memory of the best orgasm. You know the one you feel in the pit of your lower abdomen. Right below your belly button and above your pubic bone, but deep deeper than you thought such a feeling could be held. The pain of losing that first clenching sensation is what she smelled like walking away. There could be no sadness in such bliss. Stormey-