I was following a very cute guy into the supermarket yesterday. He was about forty and short with a buzz cut, a very perky ass, and a wedding ring: just my type! But then, just as the automatic doors opened, he grabbed one of those sanitizing wipes that now appear ubiquitously at local supermarket entrances and wiped down the handle of his shopping cart. I couldn't help rolling my eyes and finding him slightly less attractive. I still kept an eye on him because, really, it was a notably perky ass of just the sort that cries out for attention from my tongue and cock.
Anyway, my point here is not that I spend a lot of time staring at attractive guys in the supermarket. I mean, I do, but I do so discreetly, and I'm always aware that while there are many, many married guys who love nothing more than to have their asses eaten and then fucked, there are many more married guys who, all of our fantasies and their perky asses notwithstanding, really just aren't into guys. I'm more concerned with the ubiquity of sanitizing wipes and other products of their ilk.
I'm not entirely unconcerned with our microbial adversaries. I use condoms, and I avoid kissing men who have colds. (I'm aware that kissing isn't mainly how the colds are spread, but in this case, "kissing" is a euphemism for all the more effective sexual vectors of rhinoviral transmission. You all know how I abhor frank discussions of sexual activities.) But I don't use the hand sanitizer at the gas station. (By the way, am I supposed to use that before or after I pump gas? Both, perhaps?) It's hard for me to imagine that a gas pump is a particularly hospitable environment for disease-causing microbes. For that matter, it's hard to believe that a shopping cart handle is likely to make you ill. Surely, my perky-assed married friend is more likely to come into contact with harmful bacteria on the surface of that cucumber that he's so lovingly stroking (This detail may be one that I've made up, but he did spend a lot of time in the produce section. I had to pretend to be interested in some kiwis just to get close enough to see the wedding ring: the fantasy's not as good if they're single.) than on the cold metal-and-plastic handle of his shopping cart.
And I appreciate cleanliness, to a point. I'm routinely disgusted by the state of public toilets, and if a guy's been out working in the mud, I'll throw him in the shower before I'll have my way with him. Mud-covered man is visually hot, but, well, eww. In fact, recently out of the shower is one of my favorite ways to enjoy a man. Better still is if he's gotten out of the shower, thrown on some jeans, and sat for half an hour or so reading (preferably porn, so he'll be all worked up). That's just enough time for a guy to start smelling like a man without starting to smell like a dirty man. There's nothing like tossing a clean man on the bed and working on his nipples for a half hour or so before peeling off his jeans and shoving my tongue into his ass. Especially if he's a short married guy with short hair and a perky ass. Who doesn't use sanitizing wipes.