The Taste of Fragrance

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Amateur

She was being buffeted by the wind as she headed for the train and home. She had changed from her heels to sneakers for the trip. Someone was yelling “Carolyn.” She hoped he would find her and shut up. He ran past her, stopped and faced her, “Carolyn?”

She didn’t feel threatened. He was neatly dressed in khakis and a zip front jacket. He was about her height, about her age, with short brown hair smiling.

She shook her head, “I am not Carolyn.”

He stepped back, “I’m sorry. You look so much like her, I was sure it was you….her.”

Her first thought was that it was a pick-up line, but he appeared sincerely confused.

“Do you have a sister, or a cousin named Carolyn Anderson?”

“No, and I am not related to any Andersons. My name is Phyllis.”

He shook his head, “I’m really sorry. I’m Jerry Wilson.”

She debated then decided, “Buy me a cup of coffee, Jerry. I’m curious.”

They got coffee at a corner shop and sat. “Tell me about Carolyn.”

He sipped, “Well, she was your height, brown hair eryaman eve gelen escort to her shoulders. You have a nicer smile and you’re a bit bigger up top. But from the back, you look just like her.” He shook his head, “

We were together for almost two years.”

“So, what happened?”

“Oh, you know. She got transferred. Afterward we got together a few times but it wasn’t working.”

She raised her eyebrows, “You didn’t love her?”

He shrugged, “And she didn’t love me. But the sex was great. For a while.”

She tilted her head, “What was special about her?”

“She always smelled great. In her junior year of college, she went to southern France to study ancient architecture. She spent the summer with a guy that was studying to be a nose.

“A nose?”

“Yes, he was from Grasse, the center of the French perfume industry and he was studying fragrance definition. He developed perfumes just for her.

“That must have been nice.”

“Yes, it was. A woman is a magnificent bala escort chemical factory. Over the period of a month, her fragrance changes. Have you ever started using a perfume and few weeks later, it didn’t work as well? He developed four perfumes for her to wear for seven days so that her fragrance was always enhanced.

“So, she smelled good, what else?”

He laughed, “We only just met. I’d rather not say.”

“You can’t leave me hanging like that.”

He sighed, “Okay, but remember, you asked.” He hesitated, organizing his thoughts. “Okay, I like going down on women. I like the taste, the fragrance. And I love to watch them have one orgasm after another. One night after we had sex, I jokingly told her I didn’t want to do her again after she’d had asparagus. It led to a discussion. After that, she tasted better and better.”

“She skipped the asparagus?”

“Well, it was more than that. One day, I found what I thought was her diary and I got nosy. But it wasn’t a diary. She was keeping a list of etimesgut escort what she had eaten and made notes later as to how it tasted.”

“You told her how it tasted?”

“No, she was doing her own tasting.”

She squinted as she looked at him, “You’re making this up. You just want to get in my pants.”

“No, no. It’s true. But, yes I’d like to make love to you. But I assure it was true. I mean, If I go down on someone who has been smoking, it’s like licking an ashtray. And you know there’s a difference between kissing someone who’s been drinking beer and someone who’s been drinking scotch.’

She smiled, “Thirty year old single malt?”

He laughed, “Of course.”

She finished her coffee, “Well, I’m going to start a diary and see what happens.”

He smiled, “We could go back to my place and set a new baseline.”

“No, no. I will set my own baseline. But give me your phone.”

He handed her his phone and she dialed a number and when the phone in her bag rang, she ended the call. “Now I have your number. I may give you a call in a week or so and tell you how it’s going.”

She stood, grabbed her bag and headed for the train.

She couldn’t wait to tell Angie. She liked the way Angie tasted and she didn’t know if it would work, but they would have fun trying.

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