Plain Janes

Ok…cards on the table. Not every guy is an Adonis, tall and handsome, well muscled and panty-wet tingly gorgeous, and not every girl is pretty either. 

I want to tell you about a humongous sexual mistake I made once.  Hazel was not going to win any beauty pageants. She was tall, gangly, in fact, looked permanently awkward, and hadn’t discovered or explored the word “elegant” in any way, shape or form. If there was something to bash into, she’d find it. If there was something to be dropped and broken, then Hazel was the girl to do it. Facially, …well..plain is the only word really. Despite being tall, she had tiny boobs…and I mean tiny. Even smaller than me, if that’s possible. There are boys with bigger tits than she had. 

Still, she was a lovely soul. Kind, helpful, and I liked her, although not in a sexual way. I’d seen her naked many times in the school locker room, and even there, nature had taken a dump on her. Her body seemed disproportionately long from shoulders to hips, and her pubes looked like an explosion in a mattress factory. 

Still, as I said, I liked her, and we were lab partners sometimes too. She was also fiercely intellectual. I guess not being plagued with wannabe suitors, she just read….and read….and read….a bit like Tig I suppose. So, one afternoon, we were at my parents' home in my room working on a chemistry project. I loathed chem. I never understood the formulas that fucking nun would scrawl on the board. They just didn’t make sense to me. They looked like sums, but weren’t. Hazel took them in her stride and seemed to simply know the answers. More than that, she could see why things happened the way they did. 

So we’re sitting close to one another and I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of arousal, and it wasn’t coming from me. Yes, it’s true, my nose is highly sensitive. I can pick up scents others miss, but this was more than just a mere molecule in a billion. As we worked, and every time she shifted position, it got stronger. There was absolutely no doubt, Hazel was wet.

At one point I said I’d go and make us both a sandwich. I left her in my room. When I came back, it was like pheromone city. The scent of fresh girl cum was so powerful it made my head swim for a second. And Hazel…she was in the same chair but she had that look. The “I’ve just cum” look. Slightly flushed neck, shirt now unbuttoned to the second button, and her knees slightly apart. 

No. I have no proof whatsoever, but I would bet my house on the fact that in my absence she rubbed one out. The thought of her masturbating furiously listening out for my footsteps drove me crazy. 

Again, sitting next to her now, there was a distinct change in her scent. Before, I was undoubtedly smelling girlcum that had been leaking into her panties all day, but this was fresh, orgasm fresh. I would have loved to have found out for myself…..asked her…..got her horny again and, well…done her. Something about watching this reticent, hesitant girl really go for it drove me crazy. 

The moment she left, I was sitting in her chair, kilt-less and panty-less, jilling myself for all I was worth. 

What a glorious cum that one was!