July 4, 2010

ELIZABETH ROSE

“Smell is the sense of memory and desire.”  Jean-Jacques Rousseau

We here at MetAnotherFrog.com are returning to the fringe of sexual preference and desire for the duration of July, aka Fringe Month Two. We’ll be picking up where we left off back in January in our explorations of the filthy, oft unnerving and ever kinky. And I have the pleasure of kicking things off today with an almost universal fetish; that of smells or scents.

The vending machines in Japan that issue worn girls’ knickers for a pick-me-up odour are perhaps the outer fringe to me, but maybe just because it is more honest and open I should be praising them for their coin operated fetish dispensers.

I believe we all have a fetish for scents, although it is only recognised as a fetish if it is for a scent that mainstream society deems “dirty”. Google “smell fetish” and you’ll get links about smelling ass, feet, ear wax(!!!) or dirty knickers. Yet most of us unwittingly get turned on by of sense of smell much more readily than many would admit.

I find a waft of Lynx Africa has me rubber necking to find it’s source – it’s a cheap scent worn by teenage boys in the UK (a.k.a Axe elsewhere) . It brings back memories of when I too was a cheap scent worn by teenage boys in the UK, when the acrobatics were all first times and my partners were inexhaustible.

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Our olfactory organ is a treasure trove of discovery about our sexual preferences. Some men just smell wrong to me, no matter how hot or how sexy their banter; I just can’t work my cooch up to be excited for them. I have no idea what my subconscious has decided about their genetics / pheromones, but I trust nature with this one (although there are times I am tempted to douse the odd really hot one in Lynx Africa and give it a go regardless).

So before, you dive further into the outer fringes of your own sexuality, you can always start with a few baby steps. Today’s homework – smell your lover. Explore every inch of them with your nose (you can always leave a few kisses as you pass).  Try this first thing in the morning, give it a go fresh from the shower, even after he’s just back from a run. (Don’t do it post public transport – you are just smelling other people, and in London during a heat wave that can be rather pungent without aircon on the tube.)

Personally, I love the fresh scent of a man’s skin scrubbed and still slightly damp from the shower. His body is like a blank canvass for us to write our escapades across in the scent of sweat, mixed bodily fluids, trails of saliva and perhaps even the sweet tang of a flavoured lube; a veritable nasal narrative. Of course, the composing of  such a storyboard of scent does mean that clean sex always turns into the dirtiest kind with me.

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