Thursday, Jul. 11, 2002 - 7:47 p.m.
Smell Him

So Joey and I were walking down the street last night, gabbing and watching boys. All of a sudden, he interrupted whatever it was I was going on about: “Eww! I don’t like that smell!”

We stopped. I couldn’t smell it at first, but Joey explained that it was from some shrub or bush. I took a step closer to him, and just as I caught and recognized the scent, Joey blurted it out: “It smells like cum!”

It did.

Rooted to the spot, I felt my knees buckle. I got light-headed. Audibly, greedily, I sniffed and sniffed and sniffed.

Joey looked at me; I could tell my face was beatific. Laughing, he said, “Come on! Let’s go!”

When I didn’t budge, he mock-frowned at me. “What am I going to have to do to get you out of here?”

The smell was pure bliss. Unmistakably, the pungent scent of freshly squeezed boy juice.

Joey didn’t know which of the many shrubs and bushes we could see was emanating that smell, nor its name, but he said it has been nicknamed “The Cum Tree”.

I must find out about this wondrous flora; I must have one! This is important, I tell you. I need information, urgently. I need seeds for the Seed-Spilled-Shrub. Marn! Help!

It’s another gorgeous evening. Hmm, I think I’ll go for a walk.