Breathe It In

Grease - burned meat - sweat.... Beneath that stench lies a smell the demon - I would kill to possess. To roll around in - cover and burrow into... A sweet hint of chocolate mixed with the unique scent that is Xander... heady musky odor of adolescent male. Innocent - potent . . . rich and indolent . . . nothing comes close to that smell. . . Nothing.

Believe me. . . searched . . . months and still the smell clings to my senses. Desperate not to lose it despite the taint of demon-bitch. God look who’s talking. Laid on the bed, soothing balm to my overworked nerves. The great Angelus clinging to the remnants of a mortal's fragrance. It would be hysterical if it wasn’t so . . . so. . . fucking serious.... Months and still all I want is to drown in his essence... thick coppery tang of sex and flesh. Would it be so wrong... would it be so wrong... would it make me fall from grace....

Reeking with fear. Seething with rage. Simmering in passion. Anyway I want... need it - crave it - know it. Would it be so wrong to take it. Hidden beneath the layered odors of flannel... cotton soaking up sweat, holding it in till it overpowers.... Smells like life... overwhelming hint of semen... arousal hidden by clothing - released by scent.

Would it be so wrong... would it be so wrong... would it make me fall from grace...

Old leather. Booze. Desperation... lying so close to the surface. A scent I know as well as my own. Miss it - crave it. Heady smell of musk and graveyard. Familiar odor of death and blood. I have smelled it hidden by stench from sewage... fresh from a shower... drenched in sweat... reeking of semen spent and panting from hours of sex. I have drowned myself in it - used it to appease my demon. I >killed to possess it. Made it mine. No other smell could replace it. A lingering hint of my essence despite the passage of time - mixed with the ambrosia that is Spike. There is nothing like that smell. Nothing... centuries of searching.

Believe me. Desperate for redemption yet I can’t regret that scent. Would not give it up for anything - the demon howls at the thought of losing that precious smell. Want to pull it around me... bath in it.... Would it be so wrong... would it be so wrong... would it make me fall from grace...

Reeking of blood. Burning with lust. Cowering in submission. Anyway I want it... miss it - need it - crave it. Would it be so wrong to take it. Hidden beneath the layered odors of helplessness - impotent rage.... Marble flesh bared in pain - holding it in till it overpowers. Smells like death... overwhelming smell of semen - defiant - desperate needy arousal. Released by an inflicted weakness.

Would it be so wrong... would it be so wrong... would it make me fall from grace....

fin

Feedback: It would be nice.
Shadith...