Fall Emergen-C

I smell cunty in an intoxicating spicy way … a perfect fall way, like a musky bonfire of warm dry leaves, strong thick-sapped trees and boozy apple ciders for a splash of showy fuel.

Maybe it’s because I started drinking emergen-c again every day. Maybe it’s because I haven’t taken a shower in DAYS … not since before Delia and I had sex. Maybe it’s because of the masturbating I’ve done since then, too … even breaking one of her vibrators after she left on her trip.

My clothes are full of it … when my sloppy rub-worn short velvety dress swishes, I get a whiff of it. When I stand up from the computer to stretch and fold myself forward in a jacknife, I smell it.

And I want to KEEP ON smelling it. Keep on turning my head towards wherever the air has lifted it … keep on dipping my nose forward, trying to track it. It’s so alive, and so elusive when it’s airborne like this. No panties, just the friction of hair and thighs and movement that sometimes leads to spreading. That sometimes leads to leaping.