Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica


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I realize it’s not present any longer, that it hasn’t been such for quite some time. Yet, I can’t help but to taste it each time I lick my lips, smell it each time I inhale. Time is of no hindrance, it is as vivid in my mind this very moment as if it stood right before me; as if we had just culminated the encounter. I had known about the allure of scent for quite some time, albeit, way of man made chemicals found in perfume bottles. The type that sends the mind in an unsuspecting journey with a complete stranger, even if just a reverie. This time it wasn’t science who lead me astray. it was she, that woman who has left me dwelling amidst inexplicableness.

But here I am, again, smiling at the thought that once ago, and not very long, my lips were saturated by her scent. My lips and tongue acquainted with her lure, still today, feel her very essence. A slight breath of her aroma readies the most unwilling of warriors, informing them that ignorance is futile, that within her rests their desire to become men. I have gone days, nights with desire filling my veins, with desire holding me erect for times medicine claims impossible. However, that I have. I’m here to inform you that it is possible, just if you are lucky enough to have your nose experience that which I once did.

I don’t despair not having her again, instead I breathe, smile, inhale, rejoice that memory severs me right by allowing her to live within my memories. That is the scent for pheromones, the scent for men who have been weakened by the taste of a death short of heaven. The aroma that stops brutes. Those guys who claim to be real men, yet upon her scent, are sent in plead of not having the luck to have tasted that which I have.

There, there I exclaim that lust resides, not in the knowledge that I will rejoice my whim upon her, but in the remaining memories from a scent that is now meant to be forever smelt.

Author: jibarican

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