The
Scent
© 1999 Batian
Batian : please provide a little text to put here descriving your story. Thanks!
The Scent by Batian
© 1999 Batian
Please don't modify or put the story on a site without his permission. Thanks.
All rights reserved.It was when she was washing herself that she first noticed the scent.
She was a slim young lioness yet to make her first kill on the wide savannahs that were her Pride's home; some might say she would never make her kill as she had always been slender and struggling to keep up with the other lionesses. But sometimes a late tiny bud blooms into the most perfect flower. Who knows?Certainly her future was last in her thoughts as she was grooming herself with her coarse cat tongue and worked down to the splay between her haunches as she'd done a hundred times before. And that was when she noticed the scent.
It was distinct, musky, slightly sour. She'd smelled it in the other, older lionesses shortly before that time when they were willing to crouch on their paws and let the Pride's two males climb onto their arched backs, then throw them off again with harsh miaows and roars that all the more puzzled her. Now she had the scent herself.
She sniffed gently, inhaling the aroma. It seemed to come from deep between her hind legs, from the small black slit in the furrow of her loins, and she liked it. Almost instinctively she raised her muzzle, lips parted slightly, and let the scent pervade her mouth and nose. Lions have an extra organ of smell - the vomeronasal organ, which lets them detect other lions, and what condition they are in, and inhaling her own strange scent into her VNO excited her somehow.
Curling around with a leg up she pushed her muzzle into the splay of her thighs again and licked eagerly at the black cleft between. That was different, too. Normally she was barely aware of the small opening, save for when she crouched to pass water, and it meant nothing to her. Now she found it was incredibly sensitive to touch, and the gentle lapping of her tongue across it felt good, so good, so good. The cleft was swollen, too - larger, and moist. She licked, nuzzled, breathed her own special scent. Then she lowered her hind leg and looked around.
The male was nearby. His was an imposing bulk, much bigger than she, but his presence was always friendly - and comforting. With males around, the Pride was protected and prosperous. She watched as he lumbered to his feet and sauntered casually up to her, his head down slightly, his magnificent mahogany mane flowing rhythmically across his shoulders as he walked. He was big and powerful, and suddenly, strangely, she wanted him. She did not know why, or what she wanted of him - she just wanted him.
She twisted and rose to her paws. Without her usual caution she strutted right up to him and gently bumped her head against his, making him snarl slightly, then something made her turn and brush her flank against the big lion, tail lifted. His reaction startled her. A broad furry muzzle pushed in between her haunches and a tongue, bigger and broader than hers, took a lap at her vulva. She jerked forward, then looked back at him. He was licking his lips and there was a special light in his eyes - frosty and eager. His voice came to her in soft, breathy grunts.
She turned and walked off a few paces. He followed her, still grunting quietly, and when she stopped in front of him he laid a massive paw very gently on her rump. He seemed to expect her to do something, but this was all out of her experience and she didn't understand. She rolled onto the ground, on her back, and as she did her legs fell apart, baring her sex. The lion buried his face into the valley between her legs again, nuzzling, licking. This time she let him. It felt good, even more so than when she did it, and very soon she found herself humping slightly with her hips, tail lashing and switching in excitement, her hind legs moving with each tender lick.
It was her scent he was after. Realising, she opened further for him, letting him at her sensitive vulva. Her head lolled to and fro with mounting excitement - and then he stopped.
She looked up at him, her legs still splayed. Puzzled, she rolled back onto her feet and stood up. He moved towards her, and there she saw the suddenly massive sheath dangling between his balls, swinging heavily as he walked, long and firm and showing a pink tip of flesh at its dark opening.
She crouched down. He came up behind her and swung a foreleg over her. Frightened, she jolted forward and ran several steps. He was right behind, waiting. She lowered herself again, getting down on her paws, but jumped up again as he approached.
And then it happened. Triggered by her scent, the dormant knowledge awoke in her mind and she knew. She knew.
She circled around the big lion, purring suddenly in her throat. Her tail waved in his face, enticing him with the sight of her wet swollen vulva, and as he came up to her she crouched once more. Balanced on her brisket, forelegs out in front, she arched her rump upward and spread her hind legs, tail twisted aside to give him full access to her entrance. It was the first time, and it felt strange to her, but she knew what to do now and as he placed his strong foreleg across her body she crept forward so her kneeling hindquarters lifted her dusky, pink-lined vulva into position. She purred, purred, waiting.
The male straddled her with his great forepaws and she felt him settle his haunches over her rump, making her push up harder. The thrusting began - short, gentle strokes against her rear, and he gently gripped the loose skin of her nape in his jaws. His breath fanned her head, his massive body warm and furry on top of her, his haunches splayed like crouching wings as he thrusted and pummelled with mounting vigour. Something touched the lips of her vulva. It touched her again, firm and pointed. She felt it poke and wriggle into the cleft between her pouting labia - and then it was INSIDE!
It was strong and broad, roughened with clusters of small studs that aroused her feeling them go in, and she blinked and jerked her head forward with a low growl of surprise. She never knew of the depths within her vagina until she felt the lion's penis enter and penetrate and slide deep, deep inside until her vulva was pushing back the folds of his sheath and he was buried in her up to the hilt, massive tawny balls swinging as he quivered and thrusted. The grip on her neck tightened. He rumbled in his chest. She purred, startled, surprised, feeling a growing hot light of ecstacy on the approach as the combination of being mounted and having her neck gripped and her vagina penetrated rose her feelings higher than ever before. His tapered penis slid out and in again, rubbing against the hood of her clitoris, and she tensed growling in arousal - it was almost enough to trigger her. Then the male let go her neck and roared. At the same time she felt his penis tense inside her, growing even longer, and a warm fluid spurted to splash against the walls of her womb.
He leapt off her back. The lion's penis raked her vagina, triggering the violent ecstacy she knew was coming. Hot and climaxing she jumped up with a snarl and swiped the big male with a forepaw. Then she flopped onto the ground and rolled on her back, to and fro, eyes closed in self-feeling.
Deep within her body, life would soon begin. But for now, driven by a crazed need for pleasure, she would crouch and let the male mate again and again, and never more would she puzzle over the thing that had begun it all for her: the scent.
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