She kind of sniffed at my cunny, then looked up at me, smiled and said softly, "Mmm, that smells delicious."Now strangely enough, I knew what she mean.... Ever since I could remember, I sometimes put my finger up inside my pussy lips and smelled it. It's a smell I used to love, and still love, even to this day. Mind you, smelling someone else's pussy is much more of a turn-on than just smelling my own. I don't like a really strong stale odor, that smells fishy, but a fresh pussy smell -- yumm. So. We still loved each other but after five years it had all become a bit boring. Our sex life was non-existent and it seemed we only ever talked about bills and shopping and the price of petrol. We had never been that sexually active, which until this week I had put down to Sue, boy was I wrong, a lights out fumble once a month was about it and I always thought Sue a bit prudish. So we went to Ambleside to see if we could rekindle something and stayed at a lovely little B&B run by Bill and. I wanted to watch my husband masturbate. I wanted to see him grasp his erection in his hand and work it for me. *And he wouldn’t.He wouldn’t be the exhibitionist, he said. He could only watch. He was apologetic about it, and I understood, sort of. Some people get off on being watched, some don’t. If it wasn’t going to please him, why should I be so insistent?Still, I couldn’t help being perturbed.Something I’d never, ever even thought about was preoccupying me, taking over as the single. 1-kilometer mark of Black Mall. It was the last locked store of the black spiral, and the location where they had the remaining 3,000 black mushrooms locked in storage. Like no other Mall, the black spiral gave Mark the creeps. His hair felt raised on the back of his neck, and he had been nervously watching the corridor ahead the entire time they’d been biking.One nice thing about the locking the stores, once they were locked there was no place for a hostile group to hide in ambush. By the time.