a sketch
I snuggled up to her last night, ready for some much needed z's and some good ol' spoonin' action, when I took in a deep breath through my nose. I was a little startled to find that her hair didn't smell like it usually did. "Honey," I started, matter-of-factly, "your hair smells like..." I racked my brain for the right word to describe this unique and distinct aroma, trying to suppress my bemused confusion. "Pussy." The word hung in the air for a moment before she turned at looked at me, embarrassed, confused, amused I wasn't entirely sure, for a moment I thought angry, and wanted to take it back. How did that particular smell wind up in her hair? "How did that happen?" she offered as a defense. "Well maybe they touched your cunt, and then your hair. It's not that improbable." I threw back through chuckles. Thank god she wasn't mad I thought to myself, relief flooding through my body as we once again settled into bed, and sleep. "Beside I like the smell," not that I know what her pussy smells like, "in general, that is." She gave me the all too familiar 'you're fucking weird and crazy but I love you' look "I'm glad that you enjoy my pussy hair..."
And that's about when we lost it with giggles.
Oh, language!
And that's about when we lost it with giggles.
Oh, language!