Saturday, April 3, 2010

Morning Aroma - Kenn Dahll

Morning Aroma
By: Kenn Dahll

The morning was spectacular. The warm sun rising on the eastern horizon coated the small outdoor café with a reddish-pink sheen making each patron radiate vitality. The fresh aroma wafting from my steaming coffee mug blended with the sweet smell of the gardenia bush in an urn on the marble balustrade separating my bistro table from the quiet sidewalk. I sipped the brew then sat there, eyes closed, savoring the morning aromas. Drowsy and relaxed I ignored my newspaper and almost fell asleep at the small round table.

Another scent brought me back to reality–the unmistakably masculine scent of a tall young man, singlet soaked with sweat, leaning against the railing, attempting to catch his breath after a morning jog. I studied the apparition noting the well-toned body with its bulging but not overdone musculature: the white tee shirt stretched snugly across a broad expanse of heaving chest, a few tufts of curly black hairs toppled out of the top of the material. Thick clumps of hairs, also black, were visible in his armpits. The brawny arms were coated with fine black hair while his sturdy legs were covered with coarser, longer hair. Long dense black hair was sweat-plastered on his head. Deep green eyes peered out from under almost impenetrable dark eyebrows. His soaked flimsy nylon running shorts clung to his crotch outlining a well-packed jock strap.

My mind took off and I imagined kissing his lush lips, nibbling on his nipples, burying my face in his fragrant pits, drinking in their pheromone-laden aroma. My dick got hard as I continued my imaginary exploration of his body. I fantasized how it would feel to be enveloped in his arms our rigid sex organs pressed together.

Before I could visualize in my mind removing his shorts and unpacking the athletic supporter, a mellifluous baritone voice roused me from my daydream. “Could ah please have a drink of your water?” The soft Southern accent prompted my half hard dick to throb as it resumed its steadfast march to full erection.

“Please!” The sonorous voice pleaded.

“Of course…I only drank a little from this edge.” I held the glass up in my hand, turning it to present the opposite side.

“No problem.” His hand covered my fingers as he reached for the water. Eyes locked on mine he held my hand. He released my hand and brought the glass to his lips, turning it so that the area I had sipped from faced his mouth. When his tongue flicked out and licked the edge where my lips had previously been, I knew for sure I had a large tell-tale spot on the front of my shorts. He drank deeply then returned the empty glass.

“Thanks,” he said before running off leaving me with a view of his tightly muscled buttocks fighting the constraints of the running shorts–and a roaring hard on. I finished my coffee quickly. Holding the unread newspaper in front of my crotch I hurried home.

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1 comment:

Kirstein said...

Such descriptions - Such a tease! I liked it :) But, of course, I have always been a fan!