Booty Dish Syndicate Dude Week: Guest Blogger Ed
Ed lives in France and writes for Diary of a Dodger... Photoblog. He has been known to post photos of his "body parts"...
Hello Dishy Boobs... I was wondering, as this is a lay-dees blog, whether I had anything to say after most opinions of "the male of the species" were undoubtedly dispelled (the remainder reinforced) at one point of this week's Guestathon.
I was going to write about beauty from the typical male point of view... but, as I've always had a clash of opinions within the emotional part of my being as to whether the subject of my attention was simply beautiful, or merely attractive, I felt I would be even more confused the morning after recoiling from a barrage of wise comments from your faithful fans and wise cracks from the guys.
In fact sometimes, as the subject of my attention becomes more concentrated, I have to think in more descriptive terms such as "agonisingly" beautiful or "alarmingly" attractive. There's a difference, in my often fickle mind, which can change with the light -- quite literally as I'm a photographer.... or with the smell -- as I much prefer au naturelle... or into which shop doorway the racing pulse-inducing woman enters.
OK, I don't have a hang-up about shopaholics, but as I don't smoke nor eat meat I already have two too many self-imposed restrictions to be truly free with my emotions. A recent desire -- a six foot sylph who walks up our Grand Rue as if on a catwalk -- smokes, so any prolonged conversation, or café, or whatever... would leave a tell-tale smell in my hair and clothes. And whilst four kisses on the cheeks are given and received without promise or expectation with many women (and two men I like) here in France, I would subconsciously find it difficult to place a kiss with gentle pressure on a mouth, or a more advancing but tender bite on a lower lip, of someone who has maybe just eaten meat. Again, it is the smell (but this time of death) which is not in any way beautiful, or erotic, to me.
Similarly with parfum from a bottle. Why is there a western obsession with smelling artificially different when natural odours are so intriguing... and, since the dawn of animal life, pro-creatively attractive.
Let me explain... I remember recently being in a bar at around midnight listening to good music, and watching a woman move on the same spot to her own rhythm. She wasn't dancing, she wasn't beautiful, she wasn't looking at anyone... but most men had their eyes on her imperceptible movements. She came over, asked me for a cigarette, and drifted away because I didn't smoke. I felt an animal hunger rise inside me and asked the owner of the bar who she was. "You like?" he said. I shrugged, neither affirming nor discounting her sexual effect on me. I suggested she perhaps had a certain je ne sais quoi - to which the patron's roughly translated reply was, "Ah yes, you can smell the wee-wee."
Of course you couldn't - the air was too thick with Gauloises, Gitanes, Celtic, sweat, but his expression français amplified those animal instincts which had not subsided within me. I'm not talking about drooling, or having an erection... it was a tautness, of wanting to physically mate.
Making love is different, of course, because pleasure becomes part of the equation... where the ugliness of sex takes over as a man makes love to a woman... not with her. Is it a woman's fault that this effect takes hold of men... by her use of artificial perfumes. Is the arousal of a man different when the smell of a female hormone or fresh beads of her perspiring excitement are caught by his accelerated breathing rushing through his flared nostrils... or does Chanel number whatever influence him more?
And does a splash of cologne on a man's shaved visage make him more attractive to any woman he wants who crosses his path during the next hour or so... or do the residues on his awoken working body act more powerfully?
I think the answers to both scenarios are the same. An artificial smell creates one kind of amorous connection... but a natural scent triggers the fusion for the more "basic instinct."
I have felt pulled towards the basic instinct more and more in the past 30 years since (but not because) my first marriage ended. (I know Roz will be reading this and feel her thoughts are probably similar - I think we'll "make it" again next time we meet however many years from now). But because this more basic instinct has gradually taken over my sexual drive I can certainly count on the digits of both hands the number of women I've made love with (and I'm now 61) compared to the unknown number I've been out with at least once. Of those whom I've dated I cannot think of one who was "agonisingly" beautiful (although a Miss World from the late 70s was certainly very attractive -- but not "alarmingly" so).
When it comes to it, my drive and fulfilment of what follows is dependent on the real smell of a woman... maybe that's what makes other men from Mediterranean countries such hot lovers... they have the natural attraction of women with unshaven armpits, legs... and between those legs where the most natural aromas emanate and linger in the tangled, mysterious, pungent, pubic jungles which draw first the mouths and tongues of lovers in an heightened abandoned state... and then they push on into that aromatic, wet, tropical heat darkness with their loaded gun. Many hurriedly fire their only shot... then withdraw back into daylight and fresh air... missing the real experience they came so near to... most men fail because they don't truly taste the beauty of a woman.
5:54:00 AM 
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