The subtle female bouquet - reminiscent of fish - resulting from an excess of old vaginal mucus. Sometimes found on ladies bicycle saddles in hot weather Shufti.
'Well Rupert; from the delightful aroma from the kitchen, I thought we were having fish for supper.'
'No, Claude: it's pheasant old boy. What you can smell is Lady Constance's whang. Quite mackerelly today, don't ya think?'
Having a Whang on is the state one is in when you fancy someone like fuck.... that feeling of being doughy eyed and hungry for that someone special.... that person who you inspect the inside of their jeans and wonder why the sun didn’t burn a hole in the rear.
Omg.... I have got a serious Whang on for (insert name of your god/goddess). I’m literally crying down my leg for him/her (delete as applicable).