Marcia heard the bathroom tap running and wandered in to see what her husband was up to.
Evan was washing his hands, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror.
He’d been out in the garden, pulling weeds and digging garden beds in the thick clay soil. It was sweaty work, and she could smell it from across the room. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she inhaled his scent. Almost instantly she felt a stirring in her groin, a damp between her thighs.
He dried his hands and gave her a kiss. “I need a shower.”
“No you don’t.”
He grinned as she pulled him closer, leaning down to meet her for a kiss as her hand slid down inside his jeans.
“What you need to do,” she whispered, “is fuck me.”
She kissed him again, deeper this time, pulling on his arm to direct him to the bedroom.
She’d never been so aroused by a partner’s scent before she met Evan. She’d always dismissed the romance novels, proclaiming the eroticism of a sweaty man’s odour. The scent of her previous partners had turned her off, rather than on, and she’d always insisted on shower and aftershave before she would consider anything intimate.
But Evan was different. His scent aroused her in ways she’d never experienced before, but after this morning’s article she knew why.
“Know what I learned today?” she said, pushing him back onto the bed.
“What did you learn?” He raised an eyebrow, watching as she pulled her top over head, revealing a black lacy bra.
“I learned that humans use smell to select their ideal partner.”
She straddled his hips, leaning over to nibble his ear, and kiss her way down his neck to pointedly inhale his musk.
“They do, do they?”
“Mm-hm.” She undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing it back to reveal his chest, covered by a fine smattering of hairs. “If you find a person’s scent revolting, it means they’re not a good match,” she kissed down his sternum, and across his abdomen. “It’s probably the reason why perfume and after shave companies make a fortune. Nobody goes out to find a partner without it, and then once you think you’re happy you need them to keep smelling that way.” She moved down to his trousers, unzipping his fly to release his already hard cock.
She wrapped her hands around it, and leaned over it to run her tongue around the head, and then to the base and back again. She watched his eyes roll back into his head as she covered his cock with her mouth, opening her throat to take as much of him as she could. When she released him she sat up.
“Don’t you agree?”
He groaned. “I’ll agree to anything if you keep up with that!”
She grinned and returned her attention to sucking his cock, sliding a hand into her own pants to play with her clit as she did so. She closed her eyes, breathing in his musk, and when he came she swallowed, sucking and licking to ensure she cleaned up every last drop. She rolled back on the bed, feeling his eyes on her as she brought herself to climax.
“Fuck,” he said. “I need to get sweaty more often.”
Heather Kinnane writes fantasy romance and contemporary erotica. Her latest publication is ‘The Pittsburgh Collection: and other stories’. You can find out more about her other work at www.heatherkinnane.com