You Smell Good: Is sniffing an act of adultery?
He smells good. This scruffy boy-man sitting at our kitchen table. He dares to tell me he smells good.
It must be like the moment when a father sees his guileless pubescent daughter sport a bikini for the first time and he realizes, “Oh my God, when did she sprout breasts? She didn’t have them last week…” That mix of wonder and sudden self recrimination for noticing how perfectly buoyant she is.
I won’t say I have always felt “motherly” towards our guest, our age difference is probably only ten years. Perhaps “big sisterly”. But now he’s wafting the possibility of male scent under my nose. Now he’s forcing me to think of him sensually…suddenly I see the vein that happens to be running down his rather nicely defined bicep and notice how blue his eyes are—almost purple, how he’s rubbing his finger against the corner of the table…damn him.
He smells good.
Doesn’t he know not to divulge this to a married woman in her late thirties? It’s like waving raw meat in front of a lioness. I wasn’t hungry before…
I get up from the table in a flurry of cleaning up, scraping dishes, feeding the dogs.
I don’t know how we originally get onto the topic of smell. He’s a wanderlust camping out in my husband’s office this week. We have been collecting a few stray pups lately, a way to channel our thwarted nurturing instinct since losing our child. And that is how I typically feel about this bright and gracious all-terrain Jesus look-a-like. We enjoy being his West coast pit stop. He laughs at my husband’s jokes, pets the dogs, compliments me on my cooking, reads my daughter stories, puts the Murphy bed up and the toilet seat down. Of course we love him. You couldn’t ask for a nicer guy.
SENSUAL ARROGANCE
But tonight, we’re on the subject of human scent and apparently it’s a bit of a deal for him. He bitterly recalls a room mate whose stench could permeate cement. He winces over the memory of the “oily” woman he hiked with in Australia who had big red hair and smelled “barny”. Apparently even his own brother stinks like rancid butter. But him? No. He was lucky enough to inherit his Dad’s smell: sweet. Imagine. Sensual arrogance.
Suddenly I am very self conscious, resisting the urge to lift up my arm and whiff my pit for self assurance or damnation. “Why didn’t I put gloves on when I rinsed out pee-pee toddler panties today by hand?! Why didn’t I take a shower after cleaning the house and getting sweaty? Why, dear Lord in heaven, did I cook black cod tonight?!”
I blurt out, “My first boyfriend smelled like bacon and wheat fields. He was delicious. I used to wear his sweater just to be wrapped up in him. But he told me I smelled funny until he got used to me. It put me in a tailspin of deodorant and mints for years…”
Our young guest does not offer me any sort of comfort. Bad fishing trip on my part. He doesn’t even blink. He just gives me that cool hard stare as if to say, “Truth hurts, old lady cheese toes.”
All night I can’t stop thinking about it: smell. It’s something I rarely pay attention to consciously and yet obviously it holds great power being one of the five senses. I smell garlic and tomatoes and I am transported to Nonna’s house immediately. I smell mouse turd and I am back to my college dorm.
My second favorite smelling boyfriend was a gorgeous, lanky, tortured fellow I used to meet over coffee and cigarettes late at night at a cheap diner on Kingsway. He was going through a nasty divorce and I was going through artistic angst while running a theatre company. His scent was burnt orange chocolate. Truly. One of those nights, heading back for a more torrid conversation…his nose against my skin, he inhaled all the way up my naked spine, like I was an exotic flower. “You smell so good” And he healed me from any former misgivings.
Great. So now I’m thinking about my young guest and my ex-boyfriends.
It does give me comfort to confirm my all time favorite smell, hands down, is the man I married. As it should be. The closest I can pinpoint my husband is: a hearty merlot with oak sawdust. I actually love it when he comes in from work and protests that he stinks, he’s sweaty, it turns me on. It’s so animal. It makes me wonder how much of our sexual appeal we wash down the drain and cover in wax, chemicals and aluminum?
LINGERING SCENT
The next morning I drive the young man to the airport. He’s off to his next adventure. Normally I get out of the car for a hug, but I just can’t do it now. The distance is better. I can’t smell him from here. He quickly leans in and says “sideways hug”. I hold my breath.
When I get home I set about cleaning the house and this time I shower afterwards. I grab a towel and start rubbing myself down when I notice…something is different…I…oh my God. It’s his towel. I gave him the green one.
Suddenly I am struck still as a stone sculpture, dripping, a slightly dimpled Eve in the garden. I have just rubbed his scent all over my naked body. Wantonly. I bit into the apple by mistake and now am meltingly aware of my nudity. What do I do?
Well, this is ridiculous. It’s only a bloody towel and mine is hanging up in the bedroom off the door, just…finish…the…job…
I wiggle straight into my husband’s office. Showered toweled naked and wet. He is, thankfully, rather accommodating.
Later that afternoon, it’s time to do the laundry. I head for the bedding and…of course. There are the guest sheets. Red ones. Stripped from the bed. Lounging in the corner like a cheeky gigolo, winking at me. “Come on, sniff me. You know you want to, baby.”
“Okay, just get this over with” I say to myself. “Consider it science. You are simply gathering data to prove or disprove his theory.” I gather the sheets up in my arms and take a big whiff.
He’s right. He does smell good.
Kite string…and…puppy fur.
Thank God.
. . . . . . .
Photo courtesy of Abhi
The copyright of the article You Smell Good: Is sniffing an act of adultery? in Sexuality is owned by Carrieanddanielle.com. Permission to republish You Smell Good: Is sniffing an act of adultery? in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.
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October 3rd, 2008 at 8:42 am
I will always remember the smell of the first guy I fell in love with. Eternity for Men and books. I wrote several poems about how his scent tantalized me, bound me, wrapped me up in sensual goodness. *sigh*
October 3rd, 2008 at 5:32 pm
I can't help but laugh because I have always been sensitive to smell but never really thought about it until I just read your essay. My husband is the only man I ever dated who smelled like a purely sexy manly-man to me. He wears Green Irish Tweed cologne from a company called Creed now and it pumps up his naturally good smell exponentially. It nearly floors me. Sometimes I like to wear it when he's out of town.
October 3rd, 2008 at 7:31 pm
I love it. Totally transports me….
October 3rd, 2008 at 9:16 pm
Brilliant…
Mid 80's – Polo, and hockey hair
Late 80's – Men's obsession and that chevy hatchback smell
Early 90's – 2nd hand bookstores, wet wool, and good soap and good coffee
Entire New millennium – woodsmoke and butter
yum
October 3rd, 2008 at 9:31 pm
thank you for sharing your scents with me…all of you. I'm all hot and bothered now…women, you're fabulous.
October 3rd, 2008 at 10:05 pm
Hmmm, I can absolutely still close my eyes and smell that smell of teenage angst for that I-Rock driving, long hair, tan skin…oh excuse me…I got a little carried away. Love this topic. I used to try and buy my boyfriends a particular smell that just did it for me. If only I could remember the name, and if only my husband wore cologne, and if only it came in a natural version for men.
Now…I'm off to sniff and smell some more.
October 3rd, 2008 at 10:05 pm
How DO you manage to be so hilariously funny, AND so sweet & human at the same time!?!?? I actually BARKED, the laugh was so sudden when reading… garnering me a look of “what ARE you on about?!?” from my old-spice and just-rained smelling lover. Which was nice, since I'm now inspired to lean over and sniff… and think 'good thing I married him!'
October 3rd, 2008 at 10:09 pm
lovely – sexy… an this coming from a nun.
October 4th, 2008 at 3:26 am
A man… that smells… like books. Oh, heaven.
October 4th, 2008 at 10:33 am
Fantastic writing!
Wonderful.
Pam
October 4th, 2008 at 3:56 pm
My response to this article is a series of heart felt sounds, sighs, giggles,outright laughter, sniffs, Abrupt inhalations and exhalations, and a tear of two (good ones). I felt every word you wrote.
Have you considered the other senses? I would by the book
Love and joy to you
October 4th, 2008 at 5:42 pm
the other senses…one at a time…this one nearly blew my head off, haha! Seriously now, thank you so much Jennifer for writing in, I'm thrilled you enjoyed it and moved with it, and thank you all you sensual women for writing in. xo
October 4th, 2008 at 8:28 pm
What a fabulous read, I can count my entire romantic history by scents. I am working on a short story about stepping onto the streetcar and smelling an ex-lover, but being unable to place it exactly. That's powerful stuff.
I hate how much of that powerful stuff is caked over with synthetic sprays and crap.
We are all like wine, aren't we?
October 4th, 2008 at 10:29 pm
like wine, I love that, Danette! xo L
October 5th, 2008 at 12:20 pm
OK I now have to 'fess up. I have a good memory for faces and after I had read Is sniffing an act of adultery? I was drifting thru the SS book on a rainy Sunday and made the connection (you look way better with a fringe by the way). googled.
I almost wish I hadn't. Being from NZ your name was not on my radar as an anything…….. other than storyteller.
How very Holy and Courageous to write the way you do as a Christian. It is like a breath of fresh air. Most of the worthwhile reading I have done that has grown my faith has been just off the edge of the radar. It grows good strong “Faith Muscles” to have ones beliefs challenged and exercised. I am going to buy copies of your plays just for the sheer pleasure of reading them.
Maybe I will see them on stage one day.
In the 1960s when professional theatre was in its infancy in NZ I used to wander into the city in bare feet, jeans and a duffel coat (teenage angst and a good antidote to a student nurses uniform 6 days a week for 3 years) to go to plays at one of NZs first professional theatres.
October 5th, 2008 at 2:32 pm
Who would have thought that words could evoke a smell, even a taste sometimes! Your words are like good food. You take a sample and before you know it, you've devoured the whole serving and want more! Thank you for the laugh and the “I feel your confusion over the arousal of the senses – wrong, so wrong, but yet so gooooooood (dark side there).”
October 5th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
Dear Jennifersage – I was thrilled and honored to get your email. Thank you for taking the time to write. I've actually had one of my plays produced in NZ a long time ago – a comedy called Chickens – but would love to do one of my more modern scripts there. (a country that actually supports its artists and has a thriving arts scene – or at least that's what the Canucks think here – our arts community has a crush on NZ and Australia)
Thank you for the validating things you had to say about being a Christian and an artist. I find the more personal and honest I get about where I'm at – the more people from all walks of life grab onto the work and say, “oh my goodness, that's just like me, I've wondered that too – I thought I was the only one who thought that – I wrestle with that too – I love that too” Ironically, the more personal I get, the more universal it is. So I am thinking it's worth the risk – exposing myself as a bit of a “clown for Christ” as Peter Barnes would say (Red Noses – great play about faith). Doing the best I can. I feel very honored to write…God is so good. God is good to reveal Grace to a goof like me who's trying to figure it out one step at a time.
Are you still a nurse? Do you still attend the theatre?
Thank you again and bless you.
Sincerely, Lucia
PS yeah, my pic in SS is so awful, haha! I agree, I shall never wear my hair like that again. Especially not now that I have my style statement!
October 5th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
I have a dear friend I consider a virtuous and spiritual wholesome loving wife and mother…and she told me this week “men unabashedly ogle women from the moment they're born to the day they die. We are allowed to look too.” It's simply appreciation and…a rather safe outlet for that curiosity – I say “Amen sister”.
October 5th, 2008 at 5:46 pm
This is how I put this
God made man (and lets be honest he did a pretty smoking hot job in every way). He paused and then looked at the other members of the Trinity
The thought was there and the words were spoken ” I believe we can do better …….and that when he made women” Who can blame men for ogling.
He saved the best until last!!!!!!!!!!
October 10th, 2008 at 12:16 pm
Ha ha ha! Another one. brilliant! Mike smells like Candy and leather. Kind of like Mom's purse, actually if one were to think about it…..Goodness, Freud would have a heyday with that one. Corralee.
October 12th, 2008 at 9:41 am
oh my God, that made me laugh my ars off!
November 1st, 2008 at 11:43 pm
comfort to confirm my all time favorite smell,
hands down, is the man I married. As it should be.
December 22nd, 2008 at 4:54 pm
M'god, that pheromonic response, what a beautiful power. Nicely written … thank you.
December 23rd, 2008 at 3:22 pm
Mmmmm. Wow. Fun article and fun comments. I met my husband when we were both 14. His parents own a lawnmower shop. He also smelled like gasoline and exhaust. I loved it.
He still works in a shop, and he still walks in the door smelling like gasoline and I still love it. Only now it's okay to jump on him…
(His after-shower and/or day-off smell is gasoline-free; it's like fresh-cut wood and your favorite soft blanket. Mmmmmmm. I wish he would get home already…)
January 1st, 2009 at 10:32 pm
Oh, wonderful essay! I think this is the first time I've seen body scent discussed in such detail, and in a positive manner.
My girlfriend and I both recognize the power of scent in human interaction. Neither of us wear deodorant—we shower to stay clean and remove negative smells (e.g. flop-sweat, skunks, second-hand smoke), not to remove our natural scents.
What I've come to realize is that natural scents bother me much less than what I call “industrial” scents. I can't stand most perfumes, colognes, deodorants, plastics, and sprays.
I think scent is one of the most under-appreciated senses. Everyone *knows*, at some level, that it's important. But it's not explicitly part of the culture.
January 7th, 2009 at 11:24 am
Thank you – and GREAT word!
January 7th, 2009 at 11:25 am
how lovely, soft blanket and fresh cut wood…I'm all gushy now…
January 7th, 2009 at 11:28 am
thank you, Tim, you're right, now that I pay attention to the natural more, the artificial is repugnant. The more I pay attention to the “animal” I am and others are, the more grounded I become, the more in-tune, the more passionate and alive. Thank you for writing – cheers, L
January 23rd, 2009 at 12:52 pm
I may be a little extreme with my love of a womans scent. I must have a scent fetish? Definetely I have a foot fetish!
I love her with no deodorant on so that I can suck her armpits! And her sweatty feet, OH MY GOD, yes i love them in my face and in my mouth!
Delicious!
June 10th, 2009 at 10:56 am
What a good article. Body scent is the basic of attraction.
June 13th, 2009 at 2:59 am
A man's natural scent, especially that of an aromatic love-juice type of sweaty appeal is so captivating. Just like the scent of my man whenever we go lovemaking in a wet and wild fun manner. Ooooh!
June 15th, 2009 at 3:36 am
I don't think that sniffing should be considered as an act of adultery. Its just another form of appreciation and indulgence, but it shouldn't go beyond its harmless intentions of course.
June 16th, 2009 at 3:33 am
LOL!!! other people have sensitive sense of smell. Well maybe because of their genes.
July 13th, 2009 at 2:19 am
Not sure how I landed on this page, but it made my day:) Really loved what I read, titillating, funny and well written, all together. Just notice it is not a new post…
March 15th, 2010 at 11:19 am
I perform with these dogs and as far as animal behavior goes, I’m a strong believer in nurture and exercising. I’ve met Jack Russell Terriers that I wouldn’t go in close proximity to once again, but have for no reason had a poor knowledge with an American Staffordshire Terrier. If you are speaking about their owners- well, that’s a diverse story. People are animals as well, and we have a tendency to each have our very own strategies about “moral concepts”.