No no, not that.

Back in my early days in San Francisco when i was frantically trying to figure out a way to support myself i took a job on Fisherman’s Wharf at a turkey trap called The Nut Tree Store.  I rose rapidly in the firm and became the assistant manager, so i often worked the evening shift and closed the place at 10:00 PM.

In those days i was semi-dating a man named Ed, and fairly often he’d call me at work and suggest i drop by his place for sex on the way home.  I was always up for sex with Ed, so i always said yes.  I also always mentioned wanting to swing by my place to shower and change clothes beforehand, but he always pled that he had to get up early in the morning and didn’t want to wait.  So fine, i thought, if he can stand me sweaty and unwashed, so be it, even though i sure did prefer being fresh and clean.

And then one day he dropped by my house all horny and i told him, wait a sec while i jump in the shower.  Which backed him into a corner and he had to confess that well, he actually preferred me smelling like a sweaty working man.  How bizarre, i thought, but hey, he was fresh and clean, so i was happy.

And then sometime later i picked up a trick who proceeded to bury his face in my jockstrap and then jerk his head back saying, “Yuck!  Detergent!”


And then i read about Napoleon’s famous letter to Josephine announcing his imminent return from a campaign, “Ne te lave pas, j’arrive.” [Don’t bathe, i’m coming back.]

So yeah, apparently plenty of people don’t care for the smell of soap:-)





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