Novel & Cerita Stanky Leg

It is seeping out of the right leg-hole, staining her cotton crotch a wet brownish yellow. I am trembling as I press my lips to the wet stain and suck the hot putrid juice through the soaked cotton. The flavor is overwhelming. I suppress the urge to gag so I can get more of it down. I can’t get enough of it! My brain and cock are both throbbing. I pull the crotch of her panties aside so that large globs of soft, disgusting yet irresistible, brown shit begin to ooze from the leg hole. My mouth is there to receive each soft, pungent dollop of it. I squeeze her panties forcing more of it to spurt faster out the leg–hole and into my mouth. My lips, teeth, tongue and gums are covered in her shit.

Indecision weighing me down, as well the ache in my leg making me irritable as all hell. I jerked open the doors of the clubhouse and blasted through the entrance, then into the common room. On seeing several of our latest prospects lounging in chairs and staring at a large tv screen, game controllers in their hands as they passed a blunt around among them, I snapped, "Take that shit somewhere else. It smells like a Goddamn skunk in here!"

He had more strength than she knew. She looked away from my face, back to the door, “the same as me, the lowest of the low, a rogue without a pack right now. If it goes on for a few more weeks you will start to smell like the rest of us. That isn’t unwashed men and sewage that reeks around this complex. It is the stench of those without a pack.” “Ivan has a lovely scent,” I replied sniffily, vainly hoping I never smelt of the foul, sweaty animal musk that permeated this place.

Helene I sat right in the middle of the flowing gutter, the filthy water soaking through my white designer dress, turning it into a disgusting, clinging mess that stuck to my skin like glue. My hair was matted and messy, strands plastered to my face, and the stench — God, the stench — was unbearable, a mix of rotten food, sewage, and god-knows-what else that made my stomach churn violently. What the fucking hell.

He sounds so week even when he is trying to sound commanded Agatha leaves us and rushes to his side, playing the part of the concerned wife as she helps him to sit well. His legs tremble as she helps him and in the process, I catch the whiff of the stench of hid illness in his scent. Whatever is wrong with him, it isgetting worse. The main doors open, and a new scent fills the room- it stinks of a dominant alpha energy mixed with aged whiskey, and something rotten underneath that makes my nose wriggle . This one making an entrance must be a drunkard

Someone would be bound to notice her bare ankles. Inside the stockade there was a rich stew of odours — wood smoke, roasting meat, horse dung, and the acrid stench from the tannery. In the stifling heat of the Virginia summer, the air was filled with the sound of toil as the settlers went about their daily work. In their black clothes, relieved only at collar and cuff by starched white lace, they looked like so many magpies.

Its red tongue hangs out like a dog's. Sitting up, I walk backward across the leaf-covered ground, but immediately bump into the legs of another Alpha. Before I have a chance to scream, he kicks me onto my stomach. Now there are more of them. At least a dozen, their heavy feet stomping and crushing the branches and bushes. They are panting, and the air is thick with their overpowering stench, like a wet dog crossed with the worst guard dog. you can imagine. The smell is so strong it makes me vomit.

“Then it’s just her and Stumpy.” “What if I don’t like Stumpy looking at my girl?” I growled. Girard chuckled. “Stumpy’s like eighty years old and he’s missing a leg. Trust me, she’d be giving him the thrill of a lifetime just to be able to watch.” I scowled at Girard. “I don’t like-” “Son, I don’t care what you don’t like. That’s the best I can do for you. Now, get to eating,” Girard barked.

My nose crinkles, nausea rising up my throat as I open the door; the strong stench of urine, trash, body odours, and filth choking my nostrils. No wonder Emma was reluctant. The door handle is sticky when I reach for it, and I almost spit. Goddess knows I'll have to hold my breath for this. The floorboards of the stairs creak under the weight of my footsteps, wriggling from the loose nails, and I grip the slimy stairs tighter. Such a crappy apartment.

Havermouth, Present Time The room stank. They could smell it the moment they started down the hallway. Old blood, rotten flesh, and rodents. Connery made a noise in the back of his throat and fished in his pockets producing a handkerchief and stuffing it full of herbs from a pouch. He held it out to Meguitte who smiled and shook her head ruefully. She had smelled this particular scent before, many times over the centuries, during plagues and in the dungeons where people were tortured and left to rot.