Why I Sniff My Panties Every Time I Get Undressed

Why I Sniff My Panties Every Time I Get Undressed

I have the right to know if I smell good or bad

Image for postPhoto by Timofey Urov on Unsplash

I like to smell my underwear every time I get undressed.

My habit isn?t confined to panties. I also smell my bras, especially the band that runs beneath my breasts. I smell the crotch of my pants before tossing them in the clothes hamper, and I smell the armpits of my t-shirts and blouses before putting them in the wash.

I have the right to know if I smell good ? or bad.

Whether it?s a habit or an obsession may be up for debate, but I?ve been doing it for decades. I?ve always wondered whether my vagina smelled normal. That?s why I surreptitiously fished my brother?s girlfriend?s bikini bottoms out of her laundry hamper one time after she?d been lying in the sun working on her tan on a hot day.

As soon as I heard her turn on the shower in the other room. I opened the top of the hamper, grabbed her discarded bikini bottoms, pressed the crotch to my nose, and inhaled deeply. I was stunned.

Her bikini bottoms definitely smelled like a woman who?d spent the day sweating in the sun. The aroma was pungent, bordering on acrid. It brought tears to my eyes, like inhaling ammonia or chopping an onion.

It was my first clue that a woman?s dirty pussy doesn?t always smell like roses. I found that information comforting.

It happens far less often, but I?ve smelled the dirty and discarded clothes of male companions as well. The first time I intentionally smelled a partner?s underwear was at my cousin?s urging.

When I was newly married, my husband and I lived on the top floor of a three-story house. My cousin and her husband lived on the first floor. Our laundry room was in the basement.

When my washing machine was on the fritz, she kindly allowed me to use hers. Even better, she took to washing and drying the dirty laundry I left in the basement when I was too lazy or too busy to do it myself.

One evening, we chatted in the basement while she did my laundry. When she pulled my husband?s underwear out of the basket, she brought them to her nose and inhaled deeply.

I was a bit surprised. ?Did you just smell my husband?s underwear?? I asked in disbelief.

She laughed and nodded her head. ?I always do it with my husband?s underwear,? she said.

?What does it smell like?? I asked.

She pressed my husband?s underwear to her nose and inhaled again. ?It smells like balls,? she said.

Although I didn?t begin smelling my husband?s dirty underwear after the encounter with my cousin in the basement laundry room, I did become more aware of his scent after that.

His t-shirts, in particular, held the pungent scent of underarm odor when he took them off and dropped them on the floor. When he spent a sleepless overnight in jail about a year into our marriage, I spent a similarly sleepless night with one of his dirty shirts on my pillow, hoping the smell of him would make up for his absence. It didn?t.

As our marriage deteriorated, the scent of him became more sickening and less comforting. It was the stench of someone I hated, and it seemed impossible to wash the odor from the sheets.

I can only imagine that the scent of my body had the same effect on him. What was once a turn-on can become sickening over time. Emotions are even more powerful than scent.

The scent my body imprints on my panties varies depending upon so many factors. Have I been to the gym? Is it hot outside? Am I sweating? Am I sick?

My fragrance changes depending upon what I?ve eaten recently and whether I?m dehydrated. Other factors include how long it?s been since I showered and the type of fabric I?m wearing.

It may seem like a strange habit to some people, but I can?t possibly be the only woman who wants to know the smell of her own body. Personally, it?s a practice I plan to continue indefinitely. I have the right to know if I smell good ? or bad. Or both.

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