Musk
Before I begin, I should probably say that hygiene is very important. It helps prevent diseases and wherever possible, shouldn't really be avoided for any extremely long or damaging-to-health lengths of time.
That now said, I love a little musk. Not an unclean musk, just the noticeable unique smell of another person.
It's true. Big ol' zebra loves a good whiff of some male (or female!) crotch, underarm and general smell. Even better if you catch your own scent and undoubtedly know that your partner can smell it too.
What's better than snuggling up to another person and just relaxing as you lightly doze together, but remain conscious and breathe in each other's scent? It's a turn on for me and yet I don't really know why. I'm assuming it's down to my heightened sense of smell, since I had a condition when I was a young colt (thankfully gone now) I notice smells that are more obscure or further away than other people might normally be able to get whiff of.
It's so hard to describe and yet distinctive in character that you instantly know at least what species the person is, roughly how old and what their latest activity has likely been. It's not disgusting, it's natural and I can enjoy it without sex. Sex just happens to be the thing it most often leads to, for obvious pheromonal and evolutionary based reasons.
Anyway, I like musk. Specifically, I like my boyfriend's scent. Snugging him due to our romantic entanglement, elicits particularly...pleasurable...highs of sorts. It's for this reason that he knows that even just over a day or so without a proper shower and I'm climbing the walls to ravage him (or him ravage me, whatever we're hot for). He loves it if I donate old pairs of boxers to him, but my dislike of briefs stops long enough for me to enjoy his leftover pairs if I happen to see them in the dirty laundry. I know, perverted, aren't I?
It's exactly part of the reason why I call him a bastard at times, 3 days off work without a proper shower (that is, a shower without soaping or anything) in a warm house that already smells partially of him and...well...let's just say that by Saturday evening I could've throttled him. Sexually, of course.
It's now Sunday evening and he's "gone to bed" because he's "tired" while I finish up writing some notes, he has deliberately kissed me and swayed out the door so that I see him and his perky butt in the reflection on my laptop screen. I let out a low rumble and prick my ears forward, trying to concentrate but feeling frustrated sexually and mentally, now having completely lost my train of thought. He still has that pair of candy pants on, over these couple days the sickly sweet smell of powdered candy has decreased and the ripe smell of partnered male coupled with sugar dust has gone up and up. It's a bittersweet powdered sugar scent intertwined with hot, raw testosterone maleness and I can't get enough of it.
Huffing, I slam the laptop lid down and rumble lowly. Fine. If he wants to play games with my instincts, then I'm going to make him pay. It's time for the big guns and no, I don't mean my dick.
I look at the clock, 21:46 - good, I can keep him waiting. I've got a stash of toys and things in one of the drawers in the cupboard under the stairs. They're rarely used, but he and I both know exactly what it means when they come out.
Guided just by the waning light in the living room, I open the cupboard trying to be as quiet as possible. I pull out a stiff riding crop, ball gag, handcuffs (with key) and with a slight sound of zipper, a pair of swimsuit material boxers complete with the zipper right through the middle of the sculpted crotch. They hug my bulge nicely, they also rarely get washed. Just to check, I give them a cheeky sniff, pressing my silky nose into the material and huffing. Insert evil grin here. He's not the only one with a powerful scent and mine naturally dominates over his when I want it to. Like right now.
I slip out of my clothes, put the swimsuit boxers on and slowly make my way upstairs not wanting to seem too eager although my bulging sheath is making that perfectly clear in the dim light of night. I push open the bedroom door and he's under the covers reading a book with his glasses and bedside light on. His eyes twitch up almost and give me a cursory, nonchalant glance, then there's a gulp. Yeah bitch, you better be scared.
"Got your notes typed up then?" he asks, trying to play it cool but his eyes are glancing to my crotch, the zipper and to my hidden hands behind my back.
"Nah, couldn't concentrate for some reason, thought maybe I just needed to let off a little steam for a change." It's cute watching his nostrils twitch and pick up my scent, eyes glazing just a little bit.
"Oh, well I'm sure you can finish them tomorrow. Come to bed then?"
"You bet your ass I'm coming to bed." I rumble and take a few steps forward but head for his side of the bed, not mine. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to concentrate on stuff when I've got a man walking round my house smelling near as desperate as a mare in season?"
"N-no sir." Oh baby, I didn't even have to ask for him to address me properly. I've stopped just by his bedside table, crotch bulge jutting at his muzzle and I can see the look of aroused anxiety in there.
"Then why pray tell are you deciding to find out this way eh?"
"I...don't know sir." I pause, perk my ears forward as passive-aggressively as I can and empty the contents of my hand onto his lap, except the crop, the crop I bring out on the other side so he can see it when his attention turns back to me. I see him gulp, but his tail twitches excitedly.
I notice he's already got a condom out...and his favourite lube to use on me, strawberry flavoured.
"You've been planning this huh?" I ask, slipping my hand under the duvet and lifting it up as I kneel next to the bed, he relaxes a little at the gentler tone, but still seems wary as I tap the crop against the mattress for good measure.
"Well I'm hungry for it, so you'd better fucking give me it." I smack the crop down on his chest and he yelps, I can see the candy briefs stretch a little from the rush of arousal that hitting him brought on and I jump into bed, inhale deeply and rumble.
"Oh yes baby, I am going to eat you the fuck up."
I lunge, grab the musky sugared candy briefs with my front teeth and yank, the elastic snaps and showers us both in candy pieces. He just lays there astounded as I press my silky muzzle in and twitch the silky fur it against his tip, he writhes and I swat him again.
"So, do I win?"
"Y-you win."
Damn fucking right I do.