My Masculine Scent
by Jonathan Quince
Monday, April 25, 2005 18:44:57
Scents of sex are often associated with the female, with elements of the sexual act itself, or with post-orgasmic states of bliss. Though every individual carries her own perfume, nobody can mistake the mark of a woman in heat; and proceeding therefrom, with secondary factors such as fresh sweat and climactic arrivals such as semen, the catalog of strong sexual scent usually excludes any type of olfactory mating-call from the male. And while certain body parts do carry their own scents in general, they are (given proper grooming) weak enough that the typical human may only catch them from a distance of inches away at the most.
Yet there is another, more elusive delight I often find: The scent of my own male arousal.
When I am highly aroused — say, aroused enough to be producing pre-cum whether or not I am receiving direct genital stimulation — I often catch a scent marking me as fully ready to fuck. While by no means overwhelming, it is unmistakable, and strong enough for the average human nose to register from several feet away. It is not entirely unlike the scent of hot, wet cunt, though neither is it at all the same: Like so many aspects of sexual physicality, the male and female mirror each other, each the same yet opposite in principle and complimentarily fitting the other like a key in a lock.
This effect does oft seem seasonal in nature: I am far more likely to register it from spring through autumn. It varies with my mood and state of health; and it seems to adjust year-to-year as my body subtly changes with time. Hygiene is not at all a factor; in fact, the scent seems all the more readily apparent if I am very freshly showered, probably standing out all the more against the lack of complimentary background body-scents. Usually, I must be very turned on, highly aroused throughout my whole body; of course, this may be related to the way in which, like many a woman, I require multifactorial physical and/or mental stimulation in order to sustain an erection, too. Absent good mental stimulation — which is good enough in and of itself, anyway — localized cock-play just doesn’t do it for me.
Interestingly, I do not require an active erection to exude this scent. In homologous reflection to female states of arousal, the physiological mechanisms causative of lubrication and of vascular engorgement seem related but not entirely interdependent; and the framework for sex-scents appears to be yet another independent process, albeit closely aligned to lubrication, and perhaps involving some of the same glands or triggering stimuli.
Divers days, I am sitting at the computer, writing or planning or dallying in chat; other times, I am in the beginning stages of an extended masturbatory session, with strong sensual and fantasy-oriented build-up; and occasionally, I am just deeply involved in thinking about some sexy subject or another. My entire body feels a flowing warmth that fills me with an energetic glow; I feel tendrils of light caressing my flesh from within, focusing on my spine and running down to my cock. And then, I catch the scent, powerfully sexual and demanding of attention. Some with whom I have spoken hypothesized that the scent is heavily laden with pheromones, calling to the female and stimulating her arousal as her own chemicals draw me to lust.
On the wider view, this scent is just another piece in the harmonious interplay between analogous male and female repertoire. Male sexuality is far more complex than current social beliefs would dare to imagine; and as with female sexuality, only those who acquire a deep understanding of male sex can truly appreciate it. And at the end of all analysis, when I am caught up in ecstatic throes of desiring, I am reminded yet again how my body has its own means of feral communication to the objects of my licentious intentions.