When it comes to sex appeal, sweat is one of those things that can either enhance or undermine it. As someone who works out regularly, I’m very familiar with both. I can personally attest to the differences.
After a good workout, sweat gives your sex appeal an extra glow. After a long round of heavy toil, it just makes you disheveled and smelly. There may very well be a fundamental difference a chemical and psychological level, one that informs our libido that this type of sweat is conducive to passionate lovemaking. I don’t know for sure, but this daily sexy musing focuses on the sexier, steamier side of sweat. Enjoy!
I stand before you, dripping with sweat and utterly disheveled. My clothes are dirty, my hair is a mess, and my skin feels wet and clammy. It’s like nature dumped a bucket of salty water over me, washing away the aesthetics of civilization.
As I look at you, I reveal my least organized self. I appear as I would in nature, my primal self with every flaw and cut exposed in full. I cannot hide the odor. I cannot conceal the dirt and grime.
My breathing is ragged.
My muscles burn from strain and strife.
My skin glistens from a thick layer of sweat.
I feel the dirt cling to me, as if to keep me from brushing it away in your presence. It’s like the world won’t let me escape your scrutiny. My beauty and ugliness are there for you to take in. Does it offend you? Does it affect our love?
Then, I see you smile. Like a beam of light piercing the clouds, it gives me new energy. You walk over and embrace me, not all dissuaded by the sweat. If anything, it acts as a catalyst. Suddenly, our love burns even brighter.
You kiss me.
You touch me.
You let my sweat graze your flesh.
In that moment, you join me in my primal state. Every touch becomes raw, unfiltered, and untamed. There’s no formality or etiquette. There’s only a strong, burning desire to mix your sweat with mine. The rigor isn’t done. It’s only beginning.
My dirty clothes come off. Your clean clothes follow. They end up in the same pile, but that doesn’t bother us. The sweat and grime remain on my sticky skin, but that doesn’t bother us. It only energizes us. I want you to feel my dirty flesh. You want to feel it, too. The only thing stopping us is time and space.
We don’t bother with beds or furniture. Any hard surface will do. Like a catalyst, the sweat helps our skin glide together. It’s so smooth, every sinew effortlessly gliding together. Before long, your sweat mixes with mine.
From our love, we share in a new rigor.
From that rigor, we create a new heat.
From that heat, our passions taking form and substance.
It started with sweat. It ended with even more. Together, we’re both so disheveled. From the heat and the rigor, we literally forged our love. Dirty and exhausted, we get the job done.