Two days later, and I'd lost count of how many times I'd gotten myself off in Mike's hoodie. I should have washed it. I meant to wash it. But every time I picked it up to take it to the machine, I'd catch his scent and end up back in bed instead.

Now it was Friday evening, and I was walking to the climbing centre wearing the hoodie under my jacket. It was freezing, proper cold, and I needed the extra layer. Besides, Mike wouldn't be there. Vic had said he climbed on Wednesdays. I'd never seen him any other time.

Except when I walked into the centre, there he was. Fuck. He saw me and smiled, waving. Shit. Fuck. "Alright, Ally?"

"Yeah, hi." I stood there like an idiot, my brain scrambling for what to do.

He dropped down from the wall and walked over, still smiling. "Didn't expect to see you on a Friday."

"Could say the same." My voice sounded too high.

"Usually Wednesdays, yeah, but I'm away next week, so I thought I'd get a session in." He was so casual, so friendly, and I wanted to die.

"Right, yeah, makes sense."

He looked at me, and I realised I was still wearing his hoodie under my jacket. I had to give it back. Now. There was no way around it.

"Actually, I've got your hoodie." I started unzipping my jacket, my stomach sinking.

"Oh, brilliant."

I pulled off my jacket and then the hoodie, feeling the cool air hit my skin. The sports bra I had on underneath suddenly felt very exposed.

I held the hoodie out to him, and he took it, still smiling. "Cheers. Did it keep you warm?"

"Yeah, really warm. Thanks again." I was dying inside. "I, uh, haven't washed it yet. Sorry."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter, does it? I'll chuck it in with my stuff when I get home."

"Right. Yeah. Of course." I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

He shoved it in his bag without another thought, and I stood there feeling sick. The hoodie that smelt of my sweat and sex and God knows what else was in his bag. When he got home and pulled it out, he'd know. He'd smell it and know exactly what I'd done.

"You climbing, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, just need to get changed."

I went to the changing room on autopilot, pulled on my climbing gear, and tried to figure out what the fuck I was going to do. Maybe he wouldn't notice. Maybe the smell would just seem like normal sweat to him. Maybe I was overthinking this.

Or maybe when he got home he'd pull that hoodie out and immediately know I'd been getting myself off while wearing it.

I went back out and started climbing, but I couldn't focus. Every route I tried, I fucked up. My hands were sweating, my grip was off, and my brain was spinning with increasingly desperate ideas.

I could leave. Just grab my stuff and go; avoid the whole situation.

But that would be weird and obvious.

I could... I could make his bag wet. If his clothes got wet, the damp smell would mask everything else. It was desperate and stupid, but what other choice did I have?

I watched him climb, waited until he was properly focused on a difficult route, then headed towards the men's changing room. My heart was hammering. This was insane. I was going to get caught and look like a complete psycho.

I pushed open the door, checking it was empty, and found his bag on the bench. I grabbed his water bottle from the side pocket, unscrewed it, and was just about to pour it. "Ally?"

I spun around, and there he was, standing in the doorway, looking confused.

"What are you doing?"

My brain went completely blank. "I... I was..."

He walked in and looked at his bag, at the water bottle in my hand.

"Were you going to pour water on my stuff?"

"I'm so sorry." The words came tumbling out. "I was mortified about the hoodie. About not washing it. I got really sweaty in it, and I thought if your bag got wet, it would just smell like damp clothes, and you wouldn't..."

I trailed off, realising how absolutely mental I sounded.

He was staring at me. "You were going to pour water on my bag because you were embarrassed about giving me back a sweaty hoodie?"

"I know it's insane. I'm sorry. I just..."

He reached into his bag and pulled out the hoodie and held it up. "It's fine, Ally. It's just a hoodie." He was trying not to laugh, I could tell. He brought the hoodie to his face and sniffed it.

I stopped breathing. He paused. Sniffed again, deeper this time.

Oh God. Oh fuck. He knew. "Ally." His voice had changed. 

"I'm so sorry." I was babbling now. "I know it's disgusting; I should have washed it. I meant to wash it, I just..."

He sniffed again, his eyes meeting mine over the fabric.

"You didn't just get sweaty in this, did you?"

I wanted to die. Actually die. Right there on the floor of the men's changing room.

"I... I can explain..."

"You got yourself off in my hoodie.” It wasn't a question.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe. He lowered the hoodie slowly, his eyes locked on mine. There was a long pause where I considered just running, leaving the country, and changing my identity.

Then he smiled. "That's really hot."

I blinked. "What?"

"That's really fucking hot, Ally."

"You're not... you don't think it's weird?"

"Are you joking?" He stepped closer. "You've been getting yourself off while wearing my hoodie, and you think I'd find that weird?"

"I... yes?"

"How many times?"

"What?"

"How many times did you do it?"

My face was on fire. "I don't... I lost count."

He made a sound low in his throat, and suddenly the space between us felt very small.

I was already moving towards the door. "We need to go right now. Take me to your place."

He shoved the hoodie back in his bag, grabbed everything, and followed me out. "My car's just outside," he said. The drive to his place was short. Maybe ten minutes. It felt like hours. I sat in the passenger seat, my hands clenched in my lap, very aware of him next to me. Every time we stopped at a light, I could smell him, that scent that had been driving me insane for two days. 

I wanted to climb over the gear stick and bury my face in his neck. "How much further?" My voice came out strangled.

"Two minutes."

When we finally pulled up outside his building, I was out of the car before he'd even turned off the engine. He unlocked the door, and I followed him up the stairs, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat.

His flat was small and neat, and I registered none of it because the second the door closed behind us, he turned and kissed me.

His mouth was hot and desperate, and I moaned into it, pressing myself against him. I could smell him properly now, that warm masculine scent that I'd been huffing from his hoodie, but now it was fresh. Not two days old and covered in my own scent. 

I buried my face in his neck and inhaled, actually moaning out loud at the intensity of it.

"Fuck, Ally." His hands were in my hair, on my back, everywhere.

"You smell so good," I gasped against his skin. "I couldn't stop; I kept..."

We were pulling at each other's clothes, desperation making us clumsy. My top came off, then his. His skin was warm, and when I pressed my face to his chest and breathed in, my legs nearly gave out.

"Bedroom," he managed, and somehow we made it there without falling over.

I pushed him onto the bed and dropped to my knees between his legs. He made a sound of surprise, but I was already working at his jeans, getting them open, pulling them down. His cock was erect and straining against his boxers, and when I freed it I didn't hesitate. I leaned in close, my face right there, and inhaled.

"Jesus Christ, Ally."

The scent of him there made my head spin. I was already soaking, and I hadn't even touched myself.

I started slow, just breathing him in, letting my breath ghost over his cock. He twitched, and I heard him groan. I licked up his length, base to tip, getting my first taste. Salt and skin and something uniquely him.

"Fuck."

I did it again, slower this time, really taking my time. I traced the thick vein on the underside with my tongue, swirled around the head, and licked at the slit where he was already leaking. Each movement let me get closer, breathe him in deeper.

Then I took just the head between my lips, sucking gently, and his hips jerked off the bed.

I pulled off and looked up at him. His head was thrown back, jaw clenched. I went back down, taking him deeper this time, and started building a rhythm. Slow bobs of my head, taking him a little further each time, my hand working the base.

I kept my face pressed as close as I could, breathing through my nose so I could keep inhaling his scent. It was intoxicating, making me dizzy, and I moaned around his cock.

I varied the pressure and the speed, paying attention to what made him groan. When I swirled my tongue around the head, he gasped. When I took him deep and swallowed around him, he moaned, thrusting into me.

I pulled off to catch my breath, strings of saliva connecting my lips to his cock, and used my hand to stroke him while I moved lower. I licked down to his balls, took one in my mouth gently, and he made a strangled sound. "Fuck, fuck."

I sucked gently and rolled it with my tongue while my hand kept working his cock. Then I moved to the other one, giving it the same attention. His thighs were trembling, and when I glanced up, his eyes were locked on me.

I licked back up his length and took him in my mouth again, deeper this time. I relaxed my throat and took him as far as I could, feeling him hit the back of my throat. I held there for a moment, swallowing around him, breathing in his scent. When I pulled back, I started moving faster. Up and down, taking him deep each time, my hand twisting around the base in rhythm with my mouth. 

I could feel him getting closer. His breathing was ragged, his hips starting to thrust up to meet my mouth, and his hand was tight in my hair now.

"Ally, I'm close. I'm going to cum!"

I didn't pull away. I kept going, faster, sucking harder, taking him as deep as I could. I wanted it. Wanted to taste him properly.

His cock throbbed, and then he was cumming, hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed it all, still moving, drawing it out, until he was gasping and pushing weakly at my shoulders.

I pulled off slowly, licking him clean, and wiped my mouth.

"Come here," he said, his voice wrecked.

I climbed onto the bed, and he immediately pushed me onto my back, pulling off my shorts and knickers in one movement. Then his mouth met my swollen lips, and I cried out, my hips jerking off the bed. He started gently; his tongue traced soft licks along my outer lips, making me squirm. I was already so wet; I could feel it coating my thighs, and when he finally licked up through my folds, I moaned.

He did it again, firmer this time, his tongue parting me, tasting me properly. Then he focused on my inner lips, flicking his tongue against them, sucking them gently into his mouth. The sensation was incredible.

His tongue moved lower, circling around my opening, tight little circles that made my hips buck. Then he pushed inside, just the tip of his tongue, and I gasped. He fucked me with it using shallow thrusts before pulling back to lick up to my clit. He circled it slowly, applying just enough pressure to make me whimper. Then he flicked it, quick little movements that had me panting.

He alternated between techniques, keeping me on edge. Long, slow licks up my entire slit, then focused attention on my clit. Circles, then flicks, then sucking it gently into his mouth. Every time I got close to the edge, he'd back off and move to something else.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open, and he buried his face between my legs like he was starving. His tongue slipped inside me again, deeper this time, and I could feel him groaning against me.

He moved back to my clit, circling it with the flat of his tongue, and I could feel it building. That familiar tension coiling in my belly. Then he slid two fingers inside me while his tongue kept working, and I cried out, “Fuck! Yes, yes, YES!”

He curled his fingers forward, stroking in time with his tongue, and within minutes I was shaking. My thighs were trembling on either side of his head, and I was so close, right on the edge.

But just before I could tip over, he pulled away.

"No, please, I was so close."

"I know." He was climbing over me, and I realised he was hard again already. "I want to be inside you when you cum."

He rolled me over onto my stomach, pulling my hips up so I was on my knees, face pressed into his pillow. His scent surrounded me immediately, and I moaned into the fabric.

I felt him position himself behind me, and then he was pushing inside, slow and steady, and I couldn't breathe. He slid in easily, and I could feel every inch of him. When he was fully seated, he paused, and I whimpered, trying to push back against him.

He pulled out slowly and thrust back in, and I cried out into the pillow. The scent was overwhelming, surrounding me completely, and combined with the feeling of him inside me, it was almost too much.

He started finding a rhythm. Long, deep strokes that had me gasping into the sheets. He wasn't rushing; he was taking his time, and it was driving me insane. He gripped my hips and pulled me back to meet his thrusts, going deeper. I moaned long and loud. 

"Oh my God, Mike. Oh my fucking God!"

He kept that steady rhythm, not speeding up, just deep, consistent thrusts that were winding the tension tighter and tighter in my core. I was panting into the pillow, my hands fisted in the sheets, completely at his mercy.

The pleasure was building slowly, spreading through my belly, my hips, and down my thighs. Every thrust pushed it higher but not quite enough to tip me over. It was exquisite torture.

"Please, Mike, please."

He leaned forward, covering my back with his body, and I could smell him even stronger now. His breath was hot against my neck, and I turned my head, trying to get my face closer to his skin.

He brought one hand around to my breast, cupping it, rolling my nipple between his fingers. The dual sensation made me gasp. Every time he thrust in, his fingers tightened on my nipple, and the pleasure shot straight down to where he was filling me.

"Oh God, oh fuck."

He was still maintaining that same steady rhythm, not rushing, just relentless deep thrusts that were pushing me higher and higher. My cunt was gripping him tight, trying to pull him deeper, and I could feel myself starting to shake.

The tension was winding tighter in my core, spreading outward. My thighs were trembling with the effort of holding myself up, and my arms were shaking. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire.

His thrusts got harder and more forceful, still that same rhythm but with more power behind them. Each one drove the breath from my lungs and pushed me closer to the edge. His hand moved to my other breast, pinching the nipple, and I whimpered. The sensation was almost too much combined with everything else. I was so close, right there, teetering on the edge.

I could feel it starting. That tightening deep inside, the pressure building to a breaking point. My whole body was tensing, every muscle drawn tight, waiting. Another thrust, deeper, and I felt something shift. The pleasure spiked suddenly, and I gasped, my back arching.

"Yes, yes, oh God."

He kept going as the orgasm started to build. Not a sudden crash but a slow rolling wave that started deep inside and radiated outward.

I buried my face in the pillow and screamed as it hit. My whole body went rigid, locked up tight, and then the pleasure exploded through me.

My cunt throbbed in pulsing in waves. The sensation was overwhelming, radiating from where he was buried inside me and spreading through my entire body. The orgasm kept rolling through me in wave after wave as he timed his thrust with them. It felt endless, each surge as intense as the last.

The scent surrounding me intensified everything. Every breath I took filled my lungs with him and pushed the pleasure higher. I was completely overwhelmed, lost in the sensation.

He slowed his thrusts, letting me come down. I whimpered at the sensitivity, my whole body shaking with aftershocks.

Then he pulled out, and I rolled onto my back. I was expecting a slow kiss and maybe another build-up, but he was already settling between my legs. He pushed back inside, and I moaned, still sensitive from the orgasm. He started moving, and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

I pulled him down so his face was right above mine, so close I could feel his breath, and buried my face in his neck. His scent there was incredible. Sweat and skin and something uniquely him, and I couldn't get enough. I inhaled deeply, my nose pressed right where his neck met his shoulder, and moaned.

"Fuck, Ally, the way you smell me..."

"Can't help it," I gasped. "You smell so fucking good."

He thrust harder, and I cried out, my nails digging into his back. One of his hands found my breast, kneading it, and I arched into his touch. He pinched my nipple, and I gasped at the sharp pleasure. He did it again, harder this time, rolling it between his fingers.

"Yes, fuck, yes."

He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. Squeezing, pinching, and tugging on my nipple until I was whimpering. The sensation combined with his cock inside me was overwhelming.

I kept my face buried in his neck, breathing him in with every thrust. The scent was making me dizzy, making my whole body feel like it was on fire. Combined with the feeling of him inside me, his hands on my breasts, the sound of our bodies moving together, and the heat between us, it was overwhelming.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like this for. I lost track of time, almost drugged by the pleasure and his smell, but eventually I could feel another orgasm building, different from the last one. 

"Ally, fuck, I'm close," he breathed into my ear. 

"Yes, please, me too; please don't stop," I moaned back.

He thrust faster and harder, and I matched him movement for movement. My face stayed buried in his neck, inhaling his scent with desperate gasps. I could feel his pulse there, rapid and strong, and could taste the salt of his sweat when I licked him.

The orgasm was building higher, the pressure almost unbearable. My whole body was tensing, every muscle drawn tight, waiting for that final push.

"Mike, oh fuck, Mike, I'm..."

"Yes, fuck, Ally, yes, cum for me, I want to feel you..."

The orgasm hit, and I screamed into his neck. It was massive, overwhelming, tearing through my entire body. My cunt was pulsing in waves around him as he let go at the same time.

He thrust deep and stayed there, groaning, and I could feel him throbbing inside me, filling me. It felt like it went on forever. Wave after wave of pleasure radiated from where we were joined, spreading through my whole body. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, could only hold onto him and ride it out while his scent surrounded me and his cock pulsed inside me.

When it finally started to subside, we were both gasping, shaking, and covered in sweat. He collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, and I wrapped my arms around him.

We lay there for a long moment, just breathing. His face was in my hair, and mine was still in his neck, and I was still breathing him in, softer now, gentler.

"That was..." he started.

"Yeah."

"You really got yourself off in my hoodie?"

"So many times." I laughed, slightly hysterical. "I'm sorry, it was mental; I just..."

"Don't apologise." He lifted his head to look at me. "That might be the hottest thing anyone's ever told me."

"Really?"

"Are you joking? Knowing you were at home, wearing my clothes, getting yourself off because of how I smell?" He kissed me, slow and deep. "That's incredibly hot, Ally."

"I thought you'd think I was a freak."

"I think you're fucking perfect. Maybe a freak as well, but a perfect one."

I smacked him gently on the head and kissed him.