My worst was a WG in Bishops Stortford, many years ago when I lived in the area.
She was an incredibly cute and elfin Milf, very fanciable. I'd never seen her before but saw her ad somewhere (I think possibly before the advent of AW?) and rang the number. Spoke to her and she said she'd just come back from a two week holiday and was feeling as randy as fuck. So I had to book didn't I?

Knocked on the door and she answered in a bathrobe, she'd literally just got out of the bath, and showed me through to the room while she dried off elsewhere and put on her sexy stuff. I passed the empty bathroom and indeed there was a bath, full of water (albeit it seemed to just be water, and nothing else. No suds or anything. Strange).
Anyway, in she came looking sultry and siren-like, and the booking commenced. She was all over me like a rash, kissing, fondling, with almost a sense of sexual desperation on her part. It was very hot! She was ripping off my clothes, and I, hers. Pretty soon we were both in the buff and she went down on me like a hungry Hoover. She was bringing me to the brink so like any gentleman might, I decided to turn the tables on her to avert the impending disaster of an early cum. As I moved down her legs parted in anticipation and then it hit me: it was almost as if something had crawled up there and died

. It kind of was fishy, but to say that would be to seriously underestimate the true horror. She was like a human Bio-Hazard. A sweet, sweet girl in all other respects, she hadn't overdone the perfume, she smelt nice and there was no BO as such. But OMG her fanny reeked like no tomorrow!

I didn't say anything but tried to make out that I was actually going to finger her all along, so that's what I did. I was almost retching as I did so, so I asked for the condom and did the business as fast as I could. This was back in the days when I would often shoot too fast, but my ardour had been so severely dented that I ended up banging the shit out of her just to actually cum and be able to escape. As a result she thought I was a pretty wonderful lover (how wrong she was!) and implored me to return very soon to give her another seeing to. I never did return.
No word of a lie, when I got home I scrubbed and scrubbed my hands and although the smell was much reduced, I was vaguely aware of it lingering for a further day or two.
I didn't know nature could make such a smell? I felt really sorry for her because she was definitely gf material on civvy street, and I did wonder whether this had been a problem for her?