Looking for Clues?
Sexual activity has a tendency to leave a trail of forensic clues that, if not dealt with can lead to all sorts of embarrassing situations.
There’s pornography, books, magazines, videos, DVDs and Internet porn. How about clothing, particularly discarded underwear- how does it end up hanging from light fittings or between the cushions on the settee?
But most insidious and incriminating of all is bodily fluids. Suze started me thinking about this. When we screwed in my parents’ kitchen we cleaned ourselves up with kitchen towel and enjoyed the post-coital glow in each other’s arms. It was only when I turned on the lights that I noticed the mixture of Suzanne’s pussy juices and my semen making their slow but inexorable way down the door of the kitchen unit we had screwed on. A couple of minutes of frantic, but very quiet, cleaning up saved embarrassment on that occasion.
Suze used to occasionally borrow her dad’s car if we were going out a long way from home. We usually had a quicky on the way home in any convenient layby. We used the front passenger seat fully reclined as the rear seat just wasn’t comfortable. The morning after one such shag Suze was lucky enough to be up first and notice a blindingly obvious stain on the front passenger seat of the car. She later explained her vigorous washing of the seat upholstery to her dad by saying I’d spilt a milkshake whilst driving back the night before.
Another occasion was after Suze and I got our first place together. Her parents came round unannounced only moments after we’d finished a Sunday afternoon shag. I answered the door in my bathrobe. I invited them in mentioned I was just about to have a shower and got changed while Suze made them a cuppa. It was only after they left that I noticed a fresh line of jizz splashes down the front of the robe I’d been wearing. Had they noticed? Nothing was said, but then I don’t suppose there’s much to say.
To my knowledge, despite the numerous occasions on which we could have been found out, we haven’t. But then I suppose, what would anyone say? “Oh, Alex do you know you’ve got spunk on your robe” or “It took us ages to get rid of the smell of the fish milkshake from the car.”
Good Tuesday evening to you, Alex.
Snicker.
Yes, I suppose none of us are nearly so clever at hiding the evidence of our love-making as we think we are…
Sniff 🙂
Walking back into the room in which Emma and I had had sex, I was surprised how strong the scent of sex was. A dead giveaway in the days before air-fresheners.
Forgive me Alex; for I know you love the smell and taste of All things pussy…
Which is why I hope you didn’t allude to the mighty vadge as the source of anything even remotely fishy.
You were talking about spoof, yeah?
Because spoof Does smell like fish.
I think that’s why men get confused after they have been With a woman. It’s themselves they can smell.
That’s my logic and it’s sticking to Me/
Something is always left behind in the aftermath of sex. sometimes you just can’t see it,or smell it until it is to late.
i often wonder what is left after the fact….it is amazing the traces that can be found….lol.