Filthy Desires

It wasn’t the scent of his cologne that had sent her pulse racing, it was him. Pure, unadulterated, essence of him. Leaning in towards him, she could see the glistening of his neck, soft and sticky caused by a long day’s work. Nuzzling her face into the warm dent of his neck, she breathed in deeply and licked the salt from his skin. Turning quickly, he squirmed in protest, holding her lips at bay to save her from the daily grime in fear she would find him repulsive and sweaty. Little did he realise that these were the moments that encouraged her attraction: she loved to feel his warm skin pressed against hers, the scent of him drove her wild.


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