Time spent recently with my housemate Imogen has provided some deliciously sensuous experiences.
Once again, I have taken every opportunity to sample her undies, both dirty and clean.
My preference is always for her freshly worn pairs so I can smell her indirectly from the gusset of her underpants, although it is still a pleasure masturbating with her clean pairs as the cotton crotch panel still feels so soft against my penis and it is always in the knowledge that it has been in between her legs at some point, rubbing against her pubic hair and anus and vagina during the day and night.
I noticed on the clothesline at home that Imogen had bought some new cotton undies - a set of size 12 bikinis in black, grey and white.
Freshly washed, there was no stains inside them and no smell - other than that of washing powder - but still very exciting, especially with this new found discovery that Imogen actually wears white underpants!
Previously, I had found numerous pairs of her undies - all soft cotton and mostly black - but also other variations such as a purple pair which I found freshly worn inside a pair of track pants with stains and creases from possibly pre-period discharge.
Absolutely delicious!
Another black cotton pair I had found a few days earlier were, most likely, Imogen's ovulation undies, containing a large vagina-shaped smear that was like dried egg-white in her crotch panel.
Finding a white pair set my mind racing as white is always the most easily stained with any vaginal discharge and anal skid marks.
My inspections of Imogen's undies to date had not actually revealed any skid marks from her anus, which was a very fine indicator that she was a very clean girl who wiped her bottom very carefully after a bowel movement.
The latest panty acquisition went a long way to backing up the likelihood of Imogen's clean toilet hygiene.
To my ongoing delight, I located a pair of Imogen's new black size 12 cotton knickers inside a pair of her shorts in her bedroom, which she had probably only removed that morning.
Her temporary absence from the house allowed me the opportunity to fossick and I snatched the panties accordingly.
Taking them straight to my bedroom, I unfurled them and proceeded to indulge all they had to offer.
Firstly, I noticed that they were completely stain-free which was fine by me.
The crotch panel was of my favourite type - soft cotton with an extra layer for absorption and protection which was sealed from the anus end but open from the vagina end.
It was this open end that I attended to immediately and it produced instant results.
As I put my nose to the soft material, I could smell her subtle, sweaty tang instantly. In fact, the majority of the available smell was actually trapped under the extra flap of material within the panty.
It was this that I opened right up in order to access the most I could of Imogen's natural smell.
I also realised that the entire crotch panel was worth exploring as all of Imogen's undercarriage would have been contacting it as she moved around wearing them.
As my nose moved along the soft cotton from front to back, I spent the most time identifying where her vaginal opening and anus would have been rubbing and I can confirm that there was barely any odour from the vaginal area and absolutely none from the anal area.
For this reason, I just concentrated on opening up the loose end of the crotch panel and sniffing Imogen's trapped odour from underneath.
I wrapped her panties around my head with the smelliest part of the panty directly on my nose and proceeded to masturbate with Imogen's spicy odour permeating my senses.
The soft cotton crotch panel felt amazing on my nose and mouth and I just indulged the reality that it her vagina, anus and pubic hair had all been encased within it for an extended period and now my nose and mouth were in direct contact with the very same material.
As much as I badly wanted to run my tongue along the material, I had to resist in context that I needed to return the panties to where I had found them and should Imogen happen to find her panties totally wet from me having licked out them for half-an-hour, it would be potentially disastrous.
The next chapter of my interaction with Imogen was the very same afternoon when we were at home together and enjoying each other's company.
At some point whilst I was busy getting some food from the fridge, Imogen actually disappeared to the bathroom and due to the amount of time she took, I realised that she was probably doing more than peeing.
I had dreamt of the reality of Imogen taking a shit in my presence and although she was not exactly doing it in my presence this time, I realised an opportunity to get as close as possible to the action and I was able to do this by going to the toilet myself.
It so happens that both bathrooms in the house are right next to each other, so I took advantage by heading in to take a piss.
It was just as I passed the toilet to relieve myself, I heard Imogen call out.
"Are you there??" she called.
"Yeah, I'm here," I replied.
"Sorry, but I've just run out of toilet paper in here and there's none in the cupboard!" she continued.
"Oh right," I responded incredulously. "Do you need me to try and find some?"
"If you could, that would be great!!" Imogen said with obvious relief in her voice.
I then went into the other bathroom and looked under the vanity unit where I found a number of fresh rolls.
Taking one out, I then moved toward the bathroom where Imogen was inside, not really knowing what to do next.
Before I knew it, I heard Imogen say from within, "Come in if you want."
Tentatively, and with my heart about to explode out of my chest with petrified anticipation, I gently pushed the bathroom door open.
What I saw and smelled will possibly imprint on me forever.
There was Imogen, sitting on the toilet, hunched over with her shorts around her knees, looking surprisingly unabashed.
Although I couldn't see anything particularly lewd or revealing apart from a section of her bare thighs and hips, the smell in the room immediately gave away what had been going on in there.
To my immense delight, the odour of Imogen's faeces was VERY present.
Her poo did not smell nearly as strong as I thought it might, but it was still obvious.
For those few moments that I could enjoy it, Imogen's faecal odour was so present and filling the small room - sharp yet subtle and unmistakable - if I had to imagine how her poo would actually smell, then this would probably it; obvious yet not so foul that it was completely off-putting, in fact all I wanted to do was to get closer to the toilet bowl to take more of it in.
Without stepping around the obvious, Imogen apologised instantly.
"Sorry about the smell," she said.
Not knowing what else to say, I simply replied, "That's OK!"
Seeing my beautiful housemate in such a situation surrounded by the smell of her own bowel movement was both highly confronting and stimulating all at once.