Date: Sat, 2 May 2015 08:47:07 +0200
From: Zachary Blake <z.blake@mail.com>
Subject: Smell This 8 (Revised)

SMELL THIS 8
By Zachyboy, Brad, & Mark
M/b, b/b, oral, anal, sniffing, buttplay

Complete fantasy. Never happened and we don't encourage it. Read, sniff,
enjoy, then go home and keep your hands and your nose to yourself.

What's that you say? You've never donated to Nifty? Here's your chance to
correct that oversight.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

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MEMORIES: JAMES

We occasionally get true-life reader memory mail here at Smell This World
Headquarters in beautiful bustling downtown, Dubuque, Iowa, high atop the
Dubuque World Sniffing Tower where our offices are located. This latest
one came from a hot young man in Australia.

James wrote to us last month and said, "Just wanted to say I absolutely
love your "Smell This" series on Nifty. It's honestly the best piece of
erotic fiction I've ever read. If boy ass sniffing was popular literature
you'd be J.K. Rowling. Please keep it coming. You're brilliant."

Well, honestly, flattery will get you everywhere, so I wrote back to James
and reminded him that "Smell This" is very much a 3-man effort.
I BCC'd the rest of the team, who were, as usual, sluffing off at the
water cooler, comparing notes on kids shows they watch. I'm serious, ever
since we got Netflix streaming at the office, it's all they do. Do you know
how many times I walk past their doors hearing Disney Channel theme songs
and the wicka-wacka of lube slurpies coming from the other side?
Honestly, it's ridiculous.

Anyway, James wrote back and said, "I didn't realize it was a collaborative
effort. In that case please do pass on my compliments! There's some pretty
great work on Nifty but your series is honestly the best I've ever read!
It's so on-point."

Again, let me point out to all new readers, flattery will get you
everywhere.

James continued, "Boy butt sniffing is a pretty small niche but you've
definitely cornered the market. Not only is your work red hot, it's also
some of the most emotive writing I've ever read! Boy love brilliance."

And then the little minx goes and throws in the clincher! He says, "I'm 19
(well, it was my 20th birthday the other day but I refuse to believe I'm
not a teen anymore), and I've been into sniffing ass my entire life, as
long as I can remember."

"Oh my!" I exclaimed. "You ARE a young sniffer, aren't you?

And he said, "Why? How old ARE you?"

I said, "To quote Auntie Mame to Auntie Vera, honey, I'm somewhere between
40 and death."

"But by all means," I told him. "Tell us your story! You can't just leave
us hanging with a teaser like "I've been into sniffing ass my entire life"
and then just ride off into the sunset!"

"Tell us when you started sniffing boy butt! Any early experiences! First
times! Favorite times! Who was your most special sniff! Younger boy! Older
boy! Talk! Talk! Talk!

And James, God bless him, generously gave up the goods.

Here's what sweet young 20-year-old James told us, in his own words, about
his youthful experiences in the sticky little playground of Eau de Butte.

Take it away, James! (Oooh, this is the good part. I'm going to take my
penis out now).

# # # # # # # # # #

"I guess you could say I'm a young sniffer," James began. "Let's just say
I've always known what I liked!"

The earliest butt sniffing I can remember doing was actually in pre-school!
Back in the good old 90's.

[Editor's Note: I giggled a little when he said "the good old 90's," but
shhh, let him go on. I'm sorry. I'll shut up. Keep your penis out].

"I'm pretty sure I would have been 4 because I didn't start school until I
was 5. I just remember shuffling around the floor sniffing various asses
without the owners knowing, with my buddy (who I can't for the life of me
even picture let alone remember his name). Although I do remember sticking
strictly to boy-butt. I've always been a lil gay boy at heart.

I remember even though it wasn't strictly sexual (like I wouldn't have been
able to get hard or anything) it was still exciting in what I now
understand to be a sexual excitement if that makes sense. I remember we
decided to do it because it would be funny and naughty. I genuinely wanted
to know what butt smelled like.

I knew it would smell like poop but I didn't mind because I already liked
the smell and loved things like farts. I remember the toilets at pre school
were just a big room with about 5 or 6 toilets lined up next to each other
with no barricades so I was used to the smells and sounds of boys on the
toilet.

I don't think any of the other kids realized what we were doing but I do
remember we were caught! I remember one kid was sitting in one of those
chairs that have holes in the bottom so we were sliding under the chair and
sniffing when one of the day care workers found us and told us to stop. Not
sure if she had any clue what we were actually doing.

I think my next butt experience was in school when I was about 6 or 7. Me
and my friend (whose name was also Zach!) excused ourselves from class to
go to the toilet. I sucked him off for a while and then asked him to turn
around so I could taste his butt.

Like I said, I was always interested in butts and toilets and poop and
farts so I guess it was a natural progression that I'd want to smell and
taste an actual butt hole. Zach liked it. He stuck his bubble butt right in
my face and told me to keep licking. I licked it a few times, gave the hole
a good sniff and asked him to take off his undies so I could sniff them. I
remember we switched undies that day and I took his home with me and
sniffed them for ages. He'd been in them for half a day and I'd been in
them for half a day so there was a good combined scent!

We were obviously scared of being found out so we made each other promise
never to tell.  We never did butt stuff again but we used to rub each
other's crotches in class and talk about dirty things. I think he left the
school shortly after that.

I also remember at various times in my life up until we were about 14
playing truth or dare with my neighbor. The dares ranged from 'touch my
penis' to 'let me use your face as a seat.' I knew the smell of his ass off
by heart by the end of it. And he was a pretty dirty kid too. I was always
fairly boyish but at the same time civilized and (seemingly) innocent.

He was a typical never-washes, runs-around-all-day and has-a
filthy-ass-kinda kid. And these days as far as I know he's totally straight
(which actually turns me on even more knowing that I got to sniff his
straight boy butt). When we got a bit older (13 or so) and our dares got a
bit more sexual I remember one time sucking him off and then licking down
past his balls and getting the strongest smell of dirty unwashed ass. I
couldn't resist and I dived down to lick and sniff. He was a bit weirded
out but he let me do it.

Oh! And another dare I remember was when he tied his filthy boxer briefs
around my face with the streaked ass right in my nose. He thought he was
grossing me out but I couldn't have been happier.

Of course I used to smell my own butt as a lil blonde boy who liked the
smell of shit hole but didn't know why. Pretty sure my finger smelled like
butthole for 90% of my primary schooling life. I did that a lot. I loved
the smell. I used to pretend it was other boys stink and I licked my finger
a lot. I used to always lick it clean. Even to this day, it definitely
helps me to cum if there's some ass stink element involved, even if that
means I get to rim a guy who's ass isn't totally spotless (nothing worse
than an ass that smells like soap).

I learned about cocksucking from a kid who lived up the street from me who
would have been about 4 or 5 years older. He was the one who taught me
about sucking. We used to spend hours at his place or in the lane behind
cars with me just sucking his dick. That's why I've always been a giver
sexually. I love to be the one doing the sucking, licking, sniffing and
whatever else, because from that young age I was denied having the favor
returned.

We used to suck a lot. The first time I ever swallowed cum was with him. It
shot out everywhere and I automatically started licking it off his cock
head and off his belly and he was surprised that I wanted to eat it. He
thought it was gross but I told him a blow job wasn't over until the mess
was cleaned up.

The dirtiest thing I ever did with him (or with anyone I think) was one
time when I sucked him off till he cummed while he was on the toilet. He
said it was the hardest he'd ever cummed. I think the fact that he was
straight and rough and tumble meant that he was open to trying some pretty
nasty things with me, so long as I was the one doing the 'nasty' things and
he was the one enjoying them.

I don't mind, I kinda like being the good boy who's always ready to suck
and lick. Nobody taught me about rimming though. That genuinely came
naturally.

And if I'm honest, I've only really been interested in full on anal sex
more recently in my life. It never really occurred to me as a child. I was
totally obsessed with smell and taste. Even to this day my sense of smell
is my most heightened.

I loved tasting dirty things and smelling them. I loved the taste of ass
but also the thought of having my tongue in the exact same space as a boy
shits turned me on. I guess that's partly the reason I love boy ass so
much. Boys don't care about being clean. They don't care about wiping
properly or cleaning in the shower. It's all natural. Pure dirty boy hole.

I went to an all-boys school and I think most of my time in class was spent
with a boner imagining all the dirty stinky asses around me that I could be
enjoying.

I got my butt sniffed back too. I was always a little embarrassed but it
felt good. I was into older guys a lot when I was young. Nothing would have
made me happier than getting my butt sniffed (and fucked) by an older guy,
sucking his cock and swallowing his load.

I'm so glad I found your work and decided to write to you! It makes me so
happy finding other people with the same exact interest. I've told a few
friends over the years very watered down versions of my boyhood naughtiness
but they usually look at me like I'm a total nut job or treat me with pity
like it was some sort of traumatic experience. I never did anything that
was out of my control or that I objected to. It was always with boys who
wanted the same thing and it was just as hot then as it is now, to think
about.

And I'm very honored that you want to use some of my experiences in your
work! Really flattered. Please let me know if you have any other questions!

James is a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet James.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

HAMPER: ZEKE, OLIVER & MARCO

Holy fuck....it is like Hamper Hell at my sister's house. The hamper is
just inside their master bedroom which is adjacent to the kitchen. There is
absolutely no way to get at that treasure trove if more than one or two
other people are in the house. Everyone congregates right in that area.

And there are the dirty undies of three boys under the age of 13 in that
hamper!

Do you know what torture that is for a confirmed sniffer? I want to just
cry out in agony sometimes, especially if I can see a fresh pair on top of
the pile just a few feet away and I can't get to them.

In the summer, she has a lot of cookouts with friends and neighbors and
me. And of course, the kids. They have a pool in their back yard, and my
youngest nephew, Zeke, always changes into his swim suit in the downstairs
bathroom, leaving his shorts, undies and shirt in a tangled pile on the
bathroom floor.

And I always go in there right after he changes for a deep sniff of his
fragrant little FOTL's. I've been treated to some truly magnificent faint,
sweet racing stripes over this past summer. His scent is absolutely
sublime. Those are the best moments, when Zeke changes so fast in the
bathroom, there's no time to hamper those hot stinkers. I get to grab them
off the floor, natural habitat, and put them to my nose when they're still,
literally, hot from the burner.

Thank you, Zeke. God bless you for that.

And like I said, my sister's hamper in the master bedroom is always
overflowing with all three boys' dirty undies...but there's just no way to
get to it. I mean, truly, if you're sitting downstairs or out on the patio
chatting with your sister and your brother-in-law, how do you casually say,
listen, I need to run inside to have a little me-time with one of your
kid's shit smears, do you mind? I mean, LOL, there's just no graceful way
to do it.

On a couple of occasions, the kids have made a mess of socks and t-shirts
and pajamas laying around, which has afforded me the opportunity, under the
guise of grumpily helping clean up after the messy little scamps, to make
repeated runs to the glorious hamper zone.

These are frantic mad-grabs, taking one unrelated item to the hamper – a
t-shirt maybe, then rummaging through the hamper for another for quick,
drive-by, fleeting pair of undies to sniff. It's maddening. The clock is
running. Five seconds! Find a pair! Sniff! Go back for another pair of
socks on floor! Five more seconds! Find another pair of undies and sniff!
Go back for, I don't know, that jacket that looks a little dirty! One more
trip! One more frantic rummage through the hamper for a new sniff!
Ahhhhhhh! It drives me crazy. It's an excercise in timing, synchronization
and massive, stealty self-control.

If I could turn my fantasy into reality, I would sort the whole hamper
first, take everything else out, and then put all three of my nephew's
dirty undies BACK into the hamper, and then stuff my head down as far as I
could and just huff in the combined stink of all three at the same time.

If I didn't pass out from the lack of oxygen or the overload of bliss, I
would then take each pair individually and sniff and suck them clean while
I jerked my cock into an explosive cum, all over the bedroom carpet. I'd
rub it into the carpet ("Take THAT, Sis, for stationing your hamper in the
hardest place in the house!") and then I'd take the stinkiest pair of boy
undies home for a sweet souvenir. To be enjoyed later. At my leisure.

But fantasy and reality never meet. Oh sure, there have been the rare times
when a pair has been perched right on top and no one was in the kitchen and
I would dash into their bedroom and catch a quick sniff of a nice dirty
pair. It is a terrible risk, but sometimes I just can't walk away from a
pair I know was just covering the hot, ripe bottom of one of my tween-tasty
nephews. Quick, fleeting hamper drive-by's. Sometimes they're the best an
uncle can hope for.

Yesterday was one of those Hamper Hell days.....all morning everyone was
standing around in the kitchen talking and Uncle Dan was itching to sniff a
pair. No such luck, though. My nose was foiled and my cock had to go home
hungry.

But there is a silver lining to this story, the next day it was
pre-arranged that I'd take my nephews and their friend Oliver to play
Putt-Putt and to see the new Hobbit movie. So it was a wonderful day
surrounded by boys.....lots of hugs and body contact and just straight out
perving, especially on Oliver who is my current heart-throb and wet dream!!

While all of the boys were playing games at Putt-Putt yesterday, I was
standing within an inch of him, touching his shoulder with my hand as often
as I could, just the friendly uncle "pat on the shoulder". I could smell
the faint scent of Axe on him.....you know how these tweens/teens like to
smell good!  God if they only knew that their natural scent is enough to
drive a grown man out of his mind.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The icing on the cake actually happened
this morning when I went over to pick them up for our outing. When I got
there, Oliver was in the boy's bathroom brushing his teeth (he had spent
the night with the three boys). When he finished up and went into the
living room where the other boys were playing on their iPads, I ducked into
the bathroom and locked the door.

HALLELUJAH...Oliver's backpack was in there and he had stuffed his sleeping
shorts into the pocket of that backpack. They were a dark blue pair of
thin, silky shorts and when I brought them up to my nose...sweet fucking
hell...there was the most wonderful, sweet mixture of muskiness and
pheromones in the seat of those shorts.

There were no smudges at all (and I looked at every square inch of fabric),
but the natural scent of that hot little pussy had infused the
garment. This was the kind of stink that is just beautiful....it was soft
and sweet and so perfectly the smell of boy ass.

I truly wanted to bring them home with me, but since that was his only pair
of shorts in the house, there was no way for me to pinch them without
raising suspicion, so I did the next best thing. I pressed the seat of
those shorts that had been rubbing on Oliver's crack all night long right
up to my nose, unzipped my pants, fished out my cock which was already
bursting, and huffed and jacked my way with ten dry, grunting strokes to an
explosively quick cum.  It was a moment of glorious sniffing and an orgasm
that crashed down on me like thunder.

For the rest of the day, I was hanging around Oliver, sniffing him like a
dog looking for a lost bone. Just knowing what his sweet pussy hole smelled
like from his shorts had me hot and yearning all day long.  Every time I
looked at his sweet ass, all I could think of is, "I know what it smells
like. Exactly what it smells like," and "God, how I'd love to be in
there. Fucking. Cumming. Filling it full of my cream."

It took every bit of iron will I have in me yesterday not to just lean in
and run my lips softly up and down that beautiful neck of his. This is a
boy who likes to stay pretty clean and so I am fairly certain that his
little teen wrinkle wasn't all smeared and caked with his leftover poop,
but HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK....did his shorts smell divine. It was the
pure, unadulterated, natural scent of a tween boy's pussy...I wanted to
weep when I smelled those shorts. I am so fucking hard and horny right now
just remembering it.

"Can I fuck you, Oliver?" I'm whispering in my mind to him as I jack
off. "Can you be a good boy and spread your pretty cheeks apart now so I
can put it inside you? Oh yeah, baby. Yes, Oliver. That's a good boy."

You'd fall in love with him instantly. He's geeky smart and so incredibly
polite. I know that he does have a less than perfect home life...his
parents are divorced and he has struggled with that. I just wanted to
shower him with love, while at the same time I wanted to drag him to the
bathroom and pull down his pants and bury my face in his crotch and ass. He
has just the faint beginnings of fuzz on his upper lip, an upper lip that
curls up just the tiniest bit and gives him the sexiest innocent
look. Delicate little face, piercing eyes, perfect nose, sweet little lips,
just the right size for opening wide and bobbing up and down on a hard,
long piece of meat. Mmmm! I wonder how much of mine he could take in that
sweet little mouth before the gag reflex kicked in.

"Oh baby. That's okay. Keep trying."

I'd help him through it and teach him to relax his throat and breathe
through his nose. He's 13 this year, and a boy's gotta learn sometime.

I could so imagine those sweet lips wrapped around my cock for the first
time and his awkward attempts to give his first blow job...scraping me with
his teeth every now and then...going too far down and accidently gagging a
second time...but still not stopping, because he needs to taste my
seed....needs to have a man fill his belly with that necessity, that
confusing imperative, that mad new starvation for potency.

"Good boy, Oliver. Suck it all out of me. Eat it all, Oliver. Eat every
bit. I'm going to spray it in your mouth now, baby. Be a good boy and
swallow it all for me. Swallow it all up and grow big and happy and
strong."

You can see it in his eyes. He's looking up, eyes wide and
watering. Nodding his "yes."

Oh fuck, he wants to swallow it. He wants to eat this more than anything.

He has some hair on his legs so I am willing to bet that there are some
lovely downy pubes growing at the base of his four inch spike. I tried
every way possible to get a peek at his pits yesterday to see if he was
growing any hair there, but no luck. Regardless, I know his crotch would be
perfect....his skin is already so creamy and white that I imagine his
crotch is milky white and that his cock will be a lovely pink color, with
the head turning a bit redder when he gets boned up. And the scent of that
crotch.....tween pheromones mixed with sweat, musk and yeast.

FUCK...he could piss on me all day long before I suck every little drop of
the honey juice out of his dick. He has to be making a bit of nut butter
that this point and I would so want to be the first to give him a blow
job...to see the look of surprise-turned-lust in his eyes as I suck that
spike into my mouth and tease that wrinkle of skin right under the head of
his cock...listening to him gasp and hiss, unable to control his hips as
they thrust his cock deep in my mouth.

His little 13-year-old baby spike...oh yummy. Just the first soft, downy
hint of pubes in his V, if any. Crotch full of pheromones. That magic age
when his beautiful, perfect boy penis is just starting to make liquids
other than urine.

Not that a mouthful of his sweet boy piss wouldn't be heaven on earth, but
I want to wash it down with a few squirts of his teeny-tweeny cum
squirts. Oh sweet boy, that's it. Put your babies in me. Just some little
squirts of your cum on my tongue as you grunt and shiver and I help you
squirt out your love by pushing a long, wet finger up your moist little
asshole.

"Nnnggh, nngggh, Oh! Oh!" I can hear his trembling fuck grunts as he grabs
my ears and unloads into a man's mouth for the first time, a sheer
combination of bliss and utter surprise. He didn't know it would feel this
good. "Unngh!" he gasps. "Tickles! Tickles!"

And then it is over. I swallow everything he gives me, his rectum still
gripping and pulsing around my knuckle-deep finger.

Oliver.

My cock drips pre-cum for him. I shake when I'm around him. All because he
left his musky warm sleep shorts in his backpack, and not like the rest of
the boys, in my sister's teasing, maddening, out of reach Hamper from Hell.

# # # # # # # # # #

In more successful hamper memories, I once looked after a neighbor's house
while she was away. I had known her – and her son Marco -- since he was
10 years old, and I had fantasized over him a million times. I had come
close to being able to steal his undies a few times but could never quite
make it happen.

He was 12 before I got free access to his hamper and it was a dream come
true. There was no anxiety in the moment. They were away and I was
legitimately in their house and I had it all to myself. I took my time in
his bedroom, going through all his stuff, touching his toys, sniffing his
baseball cap, licking his pillows, climbing naked under his bed sheets. It
was incredible.

And then I pulled his hamper into the middle of the floor and literally
emptied it out on his bedroom carpet and I knew I wouldn't be moving for a
long time, nor did I need to.

Talk about euphoric. I literally rolled in his clothes on the floor,
picking them up, dropping them on me, holding his t-shirts, sniffing the
pits of them, smoothing them over my body as I moaned, putting my throbbing
boy hungry cock inside his sweaty soccer socks and stroking with them - I'm
not sure I've ever had such a massive surge of serotonin since.

It was the pinnacle of my life and I was completed in that moment. I had
perved over this kid for the last 2 years and now here I was with his
hamper with his dirty undies in it and nothing to do but smell every inch
of him deeply, fantasizing him, talking to him as I smelled every scent his
sweaty 12-year-old body left behind:

"Oh, Marco. God, your little cock smells so hot. Your sweet hot butt
smell. Come on baby, spread those cheeks for me. Let me smell that
ass. Back it right into my face. Oh yeah, good boy, good boy. Feed me that
pissy little cock. Grind that stinky little butthole all over my face,
baby. So good, so good."

I came explosively, six times that day, one after another until my cock was
raw red and my balls wouldn't make even the tiniest drop of semen anymore,
sniffing Marco's sweet hot hamper load, and every arousing atom of boy
stink he'd left carelessly behind.

Boys' hampers are a place where magic happens. I walk by them and I freeze
instantly. I gasp and start to sweat. I lose my breath and my train of
thought. I go into a buzzing mode in my head where all the world around me
is simply incoherent white noise.

Every time I meet a pretty boy – the son of a colleague – a friend of
a friend – even some random cute boy I see at the mall, one of my
dearest and most often-repeated fantasies is to just have three hours alone
in his house. He and his parents are out for a movie. I've got the
key. Maybe I'm housesitting. The neighbor next door who brings the mail in
and waters the plants. I don't know. I don't care.

But while they're gone, I let myself in to just lay there by that beautiful
boy's hamper, empty it all out, and sniff every pair of underwear I find –
butt smell, hot tween cock smell -- huff myself silly -- just lay on the
carpet of his little boy bedroom, pants off, sniffing pair after dirty
pair, moaning and euphoric, masturbating over and over and over while I
sniff to my heart's content, just like I did with Marco.

Zekey, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies and
smell what you did.

Oliver, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies
and smell what you did.

Marco, let me sniff your beautiful butthole. Let me pick up your undies and
smell what you did.

Let me make love to all three of you, and when I'm done, let me pull out of
your gripping, heated boyholes, hear your contented sighs, wipe my creamy
dick on your precious undies and take them home in a Ziplock in my pocket,
like a trophy and a talisman.

I'll hang them in my window sill. My reminders. My conquests. My
dreamcatchers.

Hampers are for good boys, everybody.

Everybody sniff hampers.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

CLICK: AARON

My brother is terrible. He has girlfriend after girlfriend and falls in
lust with every one of them. He calls it love of course.

"This is the one, I'm serious," he'll tell me every time.

I don't believe him but I do believe that he believes himself.

My brother works for a cable TV company. He does installations and
occasionally repairs. The work is easy and low paid, but he gets enough
overtime to have a nice apartment and he's only twenty-two.

Yesterday, my brother had to meet the "girl of his dreams" (his words) but
it was a work day and he had a multibox installation he needed to
finish. He had installed three units in a clients house but the third unit
was faulty.

My brother pleaded with me to finish the job on his behalf.

"Just tell them you work for Star Cable," he said.

"I have plans, idiot," I told him.

My brother lives so deeply in his own world he has a moon that revolves
around him.

"You gonna let a kid down?" he asked.

A kid? A K.I.D., KID? Now I was curious.

"What kid?" I asked him.

"The customer's kid. It's his box that won't work. Don't make him cry by
not being there," he replied smirking at me.

My brother was the only person in the world who knew I had a thing for
little boys' underpants.

"All you gotta do, is terminate a cable that runs along the baseboard at
the back of the kid's closet and replace the box," he instructed.

"Wait. What d'you mean, his closet?"

My brother smiled. He wasn't an idiot at all. He knew exactly what he was
doing.

"Kid has a stupidly big closet for his age. And a lot of clothes, and a
laundry hamper inside it that's almost as tall as he is.

That was the penultimate shot and my brother knew it. He had one more
bullet and he knew it was time to load it up. He knew exactly what I was
gonna ask next.

"So, how old is this kid exactly?"

My brother pulled the trigger. The kill shot. He knew it would be painless,
clean and complete.

"He's ten," he said.

And my brother got to fall in love (again) with the girl of his dreams
while I did his dirty work.

At the client's house, mom was home with the little guy. It took all I
could muster not to fall to the floor and declare my undying love for him
for the next seven years right there and then.  He was a boygod in every
way and in that moment, I hoped my brother's new girl was not his last. I
could take over all his fucking jobs right now.

Sure enough, with mom telling me, "I'll leave you to it" within minutes I
was in Aaron's bedroom. It appeared to be a kind of add-on - an
extension - and perhaps was once part of the kitchen. It was on the first
floor next to the kitchen, backing onto the back yard and it had the same
tile on the floor as the kitchen did.

In his room was his baseball cap on his nightstand, a glove on the floor
and his plaid pajamas were folded neatly on top of his drool-stained
white pillow, and rows and rows of video game discs lined his
windowsill.

Closing his bedroom door and conveniently putting my brother's toolbox
against it, I went right for Aaron's closet, swinging the double doors wide
open. It was a big closet like my brother had told me and looked like it
could've previously been a pantry.

Inside it was rows and rows of tween boy clothes all hanging neatly from
white plastic hangers. I flicked through them quickly. Some beautiful sexy
little shorts and teeshirts. I grabbed a pair of blue denim jeans and
opened them up at the back to take a look at the seat of them and shuddered
at the thought of Aaron's little ten-year-old stinky bottom inside them.

Time was of the essence, though. Sure enough, as my brother had promised
me, Aaron's tall, wicker laundry hamper was standing in the front left
corner of the closet. I took off the lid and OH MY FUCKING WORD...I nearly
fell over shouting, "Just kill me now, my life is complete."

The sweet 'n' sweaty stink of tween boy clothes filled the room as soon as
the lid was off the hamper, the smell of which sent shockwaves through my
entire body like I'd just been tasered. Right on the very top, was a
pair of Aaron's briefs.

Underneath the fly, literally 'at' the cocklet, was the yellowest
dribbler stain. I began to pant...and sweat...and get all heady...and I
had'n't even sniffed them yet.  In the back of them, was the most perfect
ten-year-old-boy bum-rub I'd seen in a long time.

"Ohhh, Aaron's dirty bottom," I whispered out loud.

Here I was, in the bedroom of a ten-year-old boy I don't even know and who
I've only just met and I'm about to sniff the smelly piss and dirty ass
stains in his underpants and I wanted it more than I wanted to
live. Nothing was going to stop me sniffing them. Nothing.

Outside, I heard laughter. Undies in hand, I approached the
window and, parting the summer blinds, I looked out into the back yard.

And there he was. In all his ten-year-old boygod glory.

It had started to rain and mom, a great mother by all measures, was running
around the back yard while Aaron chased her, thinking it was the
funniest thing in the world. I stood between two slats of the blinds
looking out at them, but I wasn't watching mom.

My eyes were fixed on Aaron who was darting around the grass in his
bare feet, running after his mom and giggling the whole time. He was
blissfully unaware of his own sexiness and how horny his little body and
his tight little six pack were making me. He was also oblivious to the fact
that as I stood there perving over him, I was holding a pair of his dirty
underpants in my hand.

Oh, I had fallen instantly and completely in love with Aaron.

As I watched him at play in the back yard, I was immersed in a world which
ran at a different speed to the real world. Everything was slower now and
hyper-real. Rain droplets fell from his young, milky white skin as
he ran around the yard getting soaked in the rain - boundless preteen
energy and giggles - the personification of all that is innocent and
beautiful.

As I observed the purity in which his world was to him, I looked
down at the ass stain in his dirty underpants where innocence and
perversion collide and, while watching him bounce around the wet grass on
his pink feet, I held his underpants to my nose, ass stain front and
center.

As I drew my first, deep, slow sniff of his musky buttstink, my eyes
flickered...and then involuntarily closed...as I tried to emotionally
process the sound of his giggles with the smell of his dirty bottom
right under my nose.

I managed to force my heavy eyelids open but they kept flickering in
protest. I had to look at Aaron while I sniffed his smelly bottom, but I
was intoxicated by him and my rapid eye movement was simply a reaction to
the high.

I did nothing but breath in and out and in again as I watched Aaron through
his bedroom window and I have no idea how long it was - it could've been
three minutes and it may've only been thirty-seconds - but standing there
at his window looking at Aaron and sniffing his stinky bottom from
his briefs, I exploded in my jeans. I'm not even sure if I was hard. I
probably was, I just couldn't make my mind find the shape of my own cock -
but I felt myself erupt. I put one hand on the windowsill to stop myself
from falling to the floor with my other hand still firmly holding Aaron's
stinkers in my face.

I regained consciousness and slipped those stinkers into my
pocket. This was not going to be the last time I perved over Aaron's and
smelled his stinky little ten year old bottom.

No way.

They were getting upgraded to free DVR units next week.

Courtesy of me.

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FORGETFUL: JACK ALLEN

Jack Allen is 10, and things are a lot different ever since his baby sister
Sophie was born.

Jack Allen is a good kid, and a clean kid, but he's never much liked taking
baths and showers, so a lot of times he'll get a little stinky, you know,
down there, where his butthole and his balls and his dinky are.

Mom used to say to him all the time, "Pee-yew, Jack Allen! You get in that
tub and take a bath right now! I swear I can smell you from right down the
hall, and if you don't change those underwear, they're going to walk right
out the door all by themselves!"

And Jack Allen would just giggle and he'd throw his stinky undies in the
hamper, kind of giggling to himself as he looked at the stinky fudge
stripe. And then he'd dutifully trudge off to the bathtub, pour a few caps
of Mr. Bubble, and hop in for a good long soak and a play.

"Make sure you wash all the stinky parts," his mom would smile from the
doorway. And as soon as she left, Jack Allen would, giggling as he tickled
his own little butthole and got it all nice and clean with a few swipes of
a slender, long finger.

But ever since Sophie was born, Mom's too tired to even check anymore. If
she still smells Jack Allen's little hiney from right down the hall, she
never says a word anymore. She's got diapers to change and bottles to
fill. Her attention is elsewhere.

And if Jack Allen's underwear are going to walk right out the door all by
themselves, Mom would never notice. When Sophie cries and needs feeding or
changing, which is 24/7, tired old Mom smiles weakly at Jack Allen and off
she goes, back on baby duty.

Jack Allen pretty much has to fend for himself now when it comes to keeping
his privates clean.

And sometimes he remembers, but a lot of times he doesn't.

His record was six days without changing his undies. Those were his
Superman undies. And holy shit, it looked like Superman crapped his
pants. Mom was too busy with Sophie to even notice, but Jack Allen finally
noticed them himself. He was sitting in his beanbag watching Kickin' It on
Disney, and it suddenly occurred to him he could smell his own butt really
bad. More than even usual bad.

So he got up, went to his room, took off his sweats, took off his undies
and looked at the crack, and holy balls, it was dark. And big. It looked
like Superman took a Supershit.

So he hid them down in the hamper, really far down at the bottom, went in
the bathroom, ran the bathtub, grabbed Mr. Bubble and washed his stinky
butthole. But not before he touched the stink and smelled his own finger
and giggled. It was a good one. It was a stinky one. It was a record
breaker.

Tonight, when you babysit, it's not a record breaker but it's close.

Dan and Sherry went out. A long-deserved parents-night out.

Jack Allen's on the couch. Blue t-shirt. Blue sweats.

The baby's next to him. They're watching Disney.

You put the baby in her crib. She goes right to sleep.

Jack Allen watches you watching him.

It's been four days since he changed his undies. He smiles and you
smile. Because he knows you like to play smell games and you can smell him
just as strongly as he can smell himself.

Wordlessly, you drop to your knees and come to him where he is, knees-up on
the couch, barefoot and sweat-clad ass pointed right at your face.

You lower your face into the grommet of his piss-ripe crotch, inhaling rank
maple boy cock and the pissy leftovers of four days of dribbles.

And underneath, his boy-ass overpowers even that fine aroma.

It is sweet and spicy. Basil marinara and Camembert cheese. Vinaigrette and
apple butter. Your mouth waters smelling his cock and his ass.

He giggles. You look up at him and smile.

Gently you lower his sweats, past his legs and down over his bare feet to
the floor.

His underwear, red and yellow, Iron Man, are rank and stinky and deep.

You put your nose directly into the anus button, take a deep hit and your
eyes water as you groan out loud.

So fine. So deep. So rank-fuck-funky.

Seaweed. Lemon pepper. Bean soup. Boy shit. Ass grease.

Your cock is hard and dripping.

"Please," you whisper to him. "Please, Jack Allen."

He lifts his ass and lets you pull his undies down and off.

Your face is in his stinky cock in a second. His pissy-smelling pubis. His
stinky hairless V.

He is hard and giggling, pushing it toward your mouth.

You swallow it and he giggles and fills your mouth with a squirt of
piss. Salty hot boy juice. You moan and swallow.

But it's just a little squirt. Jack Allen doesn't have to go.

You smell and finger his sticky boy butthole. Your finger actually slips,
he's so hot and greasy.

You wish you could fuck him, but he's still too little.

You smell that broccoli, brussels sprout, need-a-bath boy butter, and you
wish like hell you could spend a penny in that stinky hot wishing well.

But instead you lick it. Taste the rich bitter dandelion stems of Jack
Allen's little hiney.

He moans and pushes back against your feasting, moaning lips as he reaches
down with a thumb and a forefinger and strokes and strokes his hard little
spike.

He masturbates himself, and squeaks out a shaky dry cum while you lick his
bittersweet boy box.

Salty and bitter and pungent and strong. Tarragon. Chicken stock. Butternut
squash. His flavor makes you moan as your own cock shoots off untouched.

You lose your load, sticky and hot inside your pants without even touching
yourself. Just from the incredible joy of tasting his hole again.

"Thank you, Jack Allen," you whisper to him softly, coming up for air and
wiping the sweet stink off your lips.

Jack Allen giggles and fingers his ass absent-mindedly as he turns his
attention back to the TV.

You put your hand down your pants. Take a fingerful of cum and touch it to
his puffy red anus, raw and pulsing from the assault of your tongue.

Like cream you rub it on his button. Soothe him with it. Push the cream
inside.

Jack Allen giggles.

You lean in for one more sniff. Poppyseed. Meatballs and lentils. Salt and
vinegar potato chips.

Such a sweet ass. Such a good smell. Such a good flavor.

Jack Allen's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet, and taste, Jack Allen.

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RECIPE: JACK ALLEN, CONTINUED

Jack's Old-Fashioned Chocolate Fudge

Ingredients:

1 7-ounce jar marshmallow cream 1-1/2 cups white sugar 2/3 cup evaporated
milk 1/4 cup boy butter 1/4 tsp salty piss 2 cups milk chocolate shits 1
cup semi-sweet chocolate shits 1/2 cup 8-year-old boy nuts 1 tsp vanilla
extract

Directions:

Grease a size 8-10 medium pair of Faded Glory boys' boxer briefs and set
aside.

In a tight, packed rectum over medium heat, combine marshmallow cream,
sugar, evaporated milk, boy butter and salty piss. Bring to a full boil
inside Jack Allen's sticky little shit box and cook for one full day and
night, stirring constantly.

Remove from heat and pour in milk chocolate and semi-sweet chocolate
shits. Wipe anus hastily. Or not at all.

Stir in boy nuts and vanilla. Pour into greased undies. Discard undies into
hamper until fudge stripe is firm.

Sniff, lick and enjoy.

Prep Time: 24 hours.

Serves 1.

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WINNER: JOEY

Picture time. It was the first day of high school. Another milestone to add
to the family photo album. After almost 3 months of carefree summer fun it
was once again time for 12-year-old Joey to dig out his long black school
pants and his new senior school shirt from the bottom of his wardrobe where
he had buried them 11 weeks earlier.

"Joey! Are those your pants from last year? Don't tell me you've had three
months off and in all the time you haven't washed them once! I told you at
the end of last year you were to wash, iron and fold your uniform and put
it away for this year!"

Joey blushed. He remembered his mum telling him this but somewhere in
between water fights with his friends and long days at the beach he had
forgotten.

"Sorry mum. I'll wash them tonight, I swear."

She rolled her eyes and resumed taking the picture.

To tell you the truth Joey hadn't forgotten. He hadn't forgotten at all. In
fact there were a lot of things Joey did with full intent that his mother
put down to carelessness or forgetfulness. For instance he was wearing the
same pair of undies he'd worn all week.

Once a vibrant fluro green, after a week of running around, going to the
toilet and barley wiping, peeing and not shaking his little 4 inch boy cock
and getting wedgied by his friends they were not very vibrant at all
anymore. The back was streaked with suspicious brown marks as well as a
permanent damp patch which sat right over his little virgin boy hole.

The front also had a few permanent damp patches. When his mum had seen him
walking around in them a few days earlier she chastised him and told him he
needed to wipe away the pee with a square of toilet paper and that she was
sick of having to wash his underwear separate from the rest of the families
clothes. Little did she know not only were the piss marks there
intentionally, they weren't all piss marks.

No, Joey had hit the fine age of 12 and was now starting to produce some of
the worlds sweetest honey colored dots of boycum. Because when he jerked
his little boy cock, his back arching and his feet twitching only a few
drops of cum dripped out he never bothered to wipe them away. And so his
cum had mixed in with his piss stains to create a yellow haze where a
bright green once shone.

None of this was a mistake. Not the shit smears, the piss stains or the cum
drops. Joey is a dirty boy. Joey is a naughty boy. Joey is a VERY dirty and
VERY naughty boy.

For the past week Joey had been playing a game with his friends Jamie and
Blake (side note you'll be meeting them in the coming days. They're also
boys I went to school with). The game was simple. 'Lets see who can make
the dirtiest undies in one week. The loser has to sniff the undies of the
other two.'

Joey was not going to lose. He knew he could make the dirtiest undies this
side of the milky way. He knew his bum was stinky. He knew if he didn't
wipe his bum after going to the toilet the boy shit stink would rub off
onto the underwear fabric. He knew that if he didn't shake his little cock
after pissing it would stain the front of the fabric with ripe smelly boy
piss.

And he knew that if he jerked his little boy spike into his undies he'd be
able to further stain the fabric and mark his territory. He was going to
make one of his friends smell all of him. His dirty brown hole, stinky
slimy butt paste, mind-bending raw piss stink and for desert a serving of
sweet boy-ball nectar.

It was a symphony of stink. Every opportunity he had to make them stinkier
he had taken. First of all he'd pushed his finger up through the fabric and
grazed his smelly hole. He could feel the dampness of his hole rubbing off
onto the fabric, seeping in and turning the green into a pale brown. He
sniffed his finger after and instantly felt woozy. The stench of his hole,
even through the fabric of his underwear was overwhelming. Multiply that
stink by 7 days (and 7 stinky hot summer nights tossing and turning in bed)
and he'd made the stench from hell, or heaven depending on what you like.

Today was judging day. He'd meet the other boys in the toilets during lunch
and they'd take off their undies together and compare the stink. He
couldn't wait to see the loser sniff his undies. He couldn't wait to see
the look on their face as the stench of his poopy hole entered their
nostrils. The scent of 7 days of unwashed hole.

Poop, sweat and grease all combined to make a fine boy batter. He'd make
sure they got a whiff of his piss too, and smell the stale stench of the
fabric where his little hairless balls had sat for 7 whole stink filled
days. As a final punishment he'd make sure they sniffed one of his cum
stains. He'd only tell the loser after that it was actually his ball juice
they were sniffing. He couldn't wait to see their faces.

He couldn't wait to see their faces as they smelled his undies.

His poop.

His sweat.

His shit hole.

His piss.

His cock.

His cum.

He couldn't wait until they smelled all of him.

Joey's a good boy, everybody.

Everybody meet Joey.

(I think we have a winner).

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