Basking in the beautiful aromatic musk. I'm positively drenched in skunk spray right now, having been squirted repeatedly and heavily at the lake during one of my routine skunk-seekings. I blush knowing every drop seeps deep into the pores of my skin and attaches at a molecular level to the proteins in my hair to make sure the stench stays strong and noticeable for quite some time. I bask more when I put the sprayed clothing back on and roll around in my bed to see if the sheets will absorb any of the oil. Right now I'm just so very elated, relaxed and all just seems right and happy with the world. I am content in this skunky state, and I have two little scent glands on one of nature's most passive and naturally mild-mannered and playful animals to thank for this.
Unfortunately, society shuns that odor, workplaces consider it intolerable hygiene and my friends certainly won't find it to their liking this coming Saturday when I hang out with them, so I'll have to deodorize all day and night today, likely for hours on end, and may have to enlist my best friend as a sniff-tester at one point or another. As much as I and many other skunk sniffers might enjoy it, the spray is truly overpowering and does contain plenty of thiols to make it naturally repellant, even if the pheromones and musky parts more than make up for it. So yes, I acknowledge that I stink, and reek beautifully at that. In this state of mind of course, I crave it stronger and more vexing to the senses, so I'm sniffing my sprayed plush and gloves for maximum potency and enjoyment.