He is my favorite scent. He lets me press my face to His chest, feet, elsewhere, and take it all in. And honestly I prefer to smell Him not right after showering, but at the end of the day when he smells more like himself rather than just soap and shampoo. In those moments I breathe in as deeply as I possibly can so as to enjoy every possible scent molecule. Sigh. Softening. Release. Bliss.
Smell. 馃憙馃徏 I've spent 30 years worried about my own smells. Deodorant...did I put enough on? My breath...brushing, scraping and gargling out my mouth. Speaking quietly, softly to minimize the range reached by my exhaled breath. Just in case it is offensive. Hiding. Keeping it all in. Holding my tongue, often, so as to not be offensive in word or aroma. Resisting being intimate unless I was SURE to be freshly washed or wet wiped... only.
Denying, fighting and hiding part of myself from the one who loves me unconditionally. Only now that I am noticing how powerfully affected I am by His smell do I realized the reciprocity of pleasure I have denied Him.
I'm not saying I'm going to purposely offer my self all sweaty & skanky, but I will lower my sword on this fight. I will no longer fight to hide that part of myself from Him.