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Bj

Scientists tell us that the sense of scent is primordial, closely tied to core needs. The brain localizes the olfactory neurons responsible for scent suspiciously close to the neurons that control reproductive behavior. Maybe that’s why I remember the aromas from that first time. We were in the last year of school. I had noticed her all year, the tall, seemingly remote, strikingly gorgeous blonde in my calculus class named Cindy. None of us really seemed to know her, but the rumors swirled. Didn’t someone say they had overheard her talking about modeling? She did always seem so well put together… just the right clothes to complement her svelte curves. And, of course, she always seemed to have the right answers in class. Got all the proofs before anyone else. Knew the theorems up and down. Could integrate with the best of ‘em. What we all knew for sure was that her boyfriend, James, really couldn’t be right for her. He seemed, well, just so mousey. Slinking along behind her, seeming to serve her wishes in a quiet manner. Every guy in the class figured that he was her toy, and hoped that they would be first Ankara bayan escort in line when the time came for her to move on to a “real man.” Charlie. That was the first scent I noticed. She always wore a thick necklace with an “O” shaped container, filled with the perfume known as the fragrance of the strong woman. For many months, that was the aroma I associated with Cindy. By January, word on the street was that James and Cindy were on the way out. Sad, really, after a couple of years of what seemed like submissive bliss on his part. But, Cindy was ready to move on, to extend her charms in other directions. I never quite understood why she turned to me next. The rugged and the meek both could have won her over easily, but I was neither extreme, just kind of average in all ways. But over several weeks, we began to talk, to exchange pleasantries. Nothing very heavy or serious, but enough to become comfortable being together. One day, with a long weekend coming up, I asked if she would like to meet Saturday afternoon someplace downtown, away from each other’s Escort bayan Ankara families and from any chance of running into classmates. To my joy, she agreed!  We found our way to the modern art museum and learned that our tastes in Picasso and Kandinsky overlapped. A couple of coffees later, and we were holding hands, strolling the gently sloping circular exhibit hall. Charlie and Cindy… I couldn’t separate the two! By the next weekend, we were making out at a friend’s house, an informal party that turned into a couples’ retreat. We had paired off, and Cindy and I found a futon with our names on it. I really couldn’t believe my good fortune, to be entwined limb by limb with this beauty.  When she slowly but noticeably ground her pelvis into mine, I realized that there was simply no way, no room to hide my incredibly painful erection from her. And that’s exactly what she was hoping would be my situation. “I can feel you’re hard,” she whispered. With a soft giggle, she added, “I was hoping you would be!”  And with that, she took my hand, and deftly slipped it under Bayan escort Ankara the top of her corduroy pants, past the lacy top of her panties, and right into the moist warmth of the soft hairs. Seconds later, I discovered the slickness of her excitement, and a quick tour around the neighborhood led me to insert two fingers deep between the lips. She sighed into my mouth, thrusting her mons up against my palm, and away we went for my first thrill ride! Did I make her cum? I never knew and was way too shy to ask. But she certainly seemed to enjoy my efforts. For my part, I went home hiding my hard penis from all who would see me, as her hand didn’t quite make it as far as mine did. But, once home, I finished what never really got started. Had to, really, if I wanted to fall asleep! While one hand rapidly stroked my cock, the fingers of the other were affixed to my nose, as I inhaled a whole new scent of Cindy. My birthday was soon upon us, and she promised a special gift. In school, I had access to the photographic darkrooms, primarily for their use for certain science experiments I had been working on that required careful control over light and dark. I was entrusted with a key to the darkroom, which I now realized was a gift from heaven for a guy with raging hormones, a drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend, and an unquenchable thirst for private fun. We closeted ourselves in the darkroom so she could give me my gift.

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