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John smelled of gun oil, rubbing alcohol,- whether from injuries or as the preferred after shave- and clean sweat after a case.

He would look lost, adoring, and wicked in turns with massive shoulders and loving arms.

Calluses, scars, a soldier’s rough marching feet, and warm skin to touch.

His mouth would taste rich and dark. His chest would be salty from the top, but as you mouthed lower the flavor of yeast then warm bread permeated the fur that grew wilder and thicker until bitter liquid filled your throat.

His cries would echo his pleasure and bounce off walls.