Sunday, 26 January 2014

I, Desire

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine 

~ Song of Solomon 1:2 (King James)

And then our arrows of desire rewrite the speech, mmh, yes, 
And then he whispered would I, mmh, yes, 
Be safe, mmh, yes, from mountain flowers? 
And at first with the charm around him, mmh, yes, 
He loosened it so if it slipped between my breasts 
He'd rescue it, mmh, yes, 
And his spark took life in my hand and, mmh, yes, 
I said, mmh, yes, 
But not yet, mmh, yes, 
Mmh, yes. 

~ The Sensual World by Kate Bush

Double double (by DianaCretu


Nikosia, Cyprus

A bride-to-be is facing a crossroads.

Marina Makides.

It should have been the happiest day of her life.

But instead it felt like a death sentence.

The young woman could not have felt more alone.

Even as the sound of ecstatic family members and villagers alike all celebrating the impending nuptials filled the air.

Even as a band of violinist's struck up the evocative sound of traditional Cypriot wedding music in the courtyard below.

Even as the intoxicating scent of jasmine flowers wafted through the open window of her bedroom in the family home.

Marina Makides felt as unhappy as if she were attending her own funeral.

The merriment only added to her wretchedness.

Marina Makides was exotically beautiful with dark olive skin.

She had large almond shaped black eyes, full sensual lips and thick raven hair.

Now she stood before a large mirror in her bedroom and gazed at her reflection.

Her bridesmaid's had come early to dress her.

The bride-to-be was wearing an exquisite antique lace wedding dress with ornate plunging neckline.

A diamond encrusted tiara shone like a crown in her shining black hair.

Her fine silk tulle veil was intricately edged with lace and cascaded upon her delicate shoulders like a waterfall.

Two vintage pearl-drop earrings glittered in her ears, offsetting her dark complexion.

On her wrist was an elaborately worked bracelet made of gold coins.

About her neck was a sparkling emerald and gold pendant which shone at the cleft of her breasts.

Several oriental gold rings glistened on her slender fingers.

Marina Makides was as the goddess Aphrodite.

A near oriental princess.

Marina Makides was as Salome,  the daughter of Herodias.

Her lips pouted as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

There was a quizzical expression on her captivating face.

When she gazed at herself in the mirror - she did not see a bride-to-be.

Instead, a desolate widow stared back at her.

"Soon you will be Marina Kallis!" Elina Makides declared as she swept into the bedroom to observe her daughter.

Tears glistened in the older woman's eyes at the vision of Marina in her all her finery.

Her only beloved daughter was getting married.

Marina was an angel.

"Don't cry mama" Marina implored Elina Makides as she gently dabbed away her tears with a lace handkerchief "Or I will start crying too!"

The young woman hugged her mother.

She was a little girl again.

Marina Makides could not expel the mounting consternation within her.

The conflicting emotions jostling within her for attention.

Nobody seemed to be on the same page as her.

And the joy surrounding her made a mockery of her sorrow.

She was in complete despair.

Three of her cousins suddenly burst into the bedroom.

They copiously kissed Marina on both cheeks before proceeding to talk excitedly among themselves.

"You look beautiful!" Markos Makides bellowed as he strode into the room.

All heads turned to observe the unmistakable figure of the Makides patriarch.

Markos Makides.

The business entrepreneur and Greek Cypriot demi-god

Makides was short and swarthy with piercing black eyes and thick curly black hair.

He was an imposing figure with a commanding presence.and generosity was legendary.

"Daniel is a lucky man!" Markos Makides exclaimed looking with immense satisfaction at his exquisite daughter.

She was the loveliest flower in all the field.

Marina flinched at the mention of her husband-to-be.

Daniel Kallis.

She had been trying not to think about him.

Daniel Kallis.

She was dismayed from the very first moment she met him.

Her auntie Katia had suggested the match and it had seemed ideal.

And Daniel Kallis had seemed ideal.

A successful accountant full of promise.

He was thoughtful and well mannered.

He was good natured and attentive.

"A fine young man!" Elina Makides had pronounced him.

The consensus was the same.

But he was boring.

He was uncomplicated and sure.

There was no fire in him.

He was the living dead.

An uneventful and unremarkable life suddenly stretched out before her.

Daniel had been a complete gentleman on his first "visit" to the family home.

Everyone had fallen in love with him.

Everyone except Marina Makides.

She could only expect to live life as his shadow.

"Your family is our family!" Markos Makides declared as he shook Daniel's hand.

Chaperoned on either side by her family and his - inwardly Marina quaked.

Several more "visits" followed accompanied by plenty of hushed conversation through barely closed doors.

And Marina and Daniel were as good as engaged.

She remembered the final "visit" clearly.

They sat awkwardly beside one another on the chaise lounge.

Marina's mother had offered them Halva and oriental black coffee.

Middle Eastern charm pervaded the scene.

Nothing was too much for a prospective son-in-law.

Marina Makides was dressed in a pretty green dress with her long raven hair tied into a bun.

Eyes modestly downcast.

Daniel Kallis was dressed in a smart jacket and trousers.

The jacket looked too big for him.

He seemed uncomfortable in formal wear.

Daniel Kallis looked like a little boy dressed in adult clothes.

But he was eager to please and accommodating.

And he won everyone's heart.

Daniel Kallis was utterly endearing.

His kindly disposition was very affecting.

To a cosmopolitan girl like Maria Makides - he appeared naive to the ways of the world.

Daniel Kallis had been raised in a tight knit Cypriot family amid a village community that observed a code of goodwill.

Marina Makides was a polished young woman who had been raised in a sophisticated society in North London, England.

Cyprus and England were polar opposites in just about every conceivable way.

The core values and approach to life of the Cypriots were almost alien to the English.

They were world's apart.

Marina and her family ate dinner with Daniel on his final visit.

She attempted to avoid eye contact with the young man.

But she couldn't do that forever.

They were now promised to each other.

And Marina Makides was caught in a spider's web.

Her life was being etched out in stone.

A life that was to be spent darning socks and raising children against a fiery red Cypriot sunset.

The life of an empty vessel.

A woman married to a ghost.

She was swapping a sophisticated life in a western country for a simpler life on a Near Eastern island.

She was leaving behind the pressures of  a modern western country to delve into the untold beauty of an ancient island with over eleven thousand years of history.

Cyprus - the jewel of the orient.

But she was as unhappy as she could be.

She had been an obedient daughter.

She had agreed to everything.

Because blood is thicker than water.

And the days are short.

But when she looked at Daniel Kallis,  her heart sank to the bottom of the sea.

Daniel Kallis.

Good man.

Good life.

Put her on a boat and send her to the Underworld..

Marina Makides - lost forever.

Duty and destiny conspired together.

And Marina humbly accepted to be Daniel's wife.

She lit a candle in church and said a prayer to the Virgin.

"O Theós eínai megálos!" Grandma Thespina assured the troubled young woman.

Marina smiled at the older Cypriot ability for almost psychic insight.

But in spite of all good intentions,  Marina Makides could not assuage her mounting sense of desolation.

At the heart of her despair lay the man she was about to marry.

Daniel Kallis.

There was no fire in his belly.

There was no hint of passion.

He was calm and level-headed.

There were no dark fires in his bright green eyes.

He had thick black hair and keen features.

He might have been good looking.

But it was difficult to tell.

Because most of his face was covered up in a big black beard.

Most of his face was hiding in the overgrowth.

Like Father Joseph.

Only a pair of bright green eyes shone out from the darkness.

Two emeralds in the sea.

Eyes without a face.

Petra tou Romiou  (by sican
Marina Makides sighed sadly.

Days were merging into one.

Six months ago she had been working for a law firm.

That was far behind her now.

The judge had passed sentence.

Maria Makides was destined to marry Daniel Kallis and live in obscurity for the remainder of her days.

"Koukla mou! Koukla mou!" Grandma Thespina cried jubilantly as she covered Marina's face in kisses the morning of her wedding.

Everything appeared to be happening as if in a dream.

St Paul's Cathedral was full of people that bright day as Marina and Daniel emerged as man and wife.

The sweet smell of incense had bathed them in a mystical aura.

The wedding ritual binding them together.

Marina and Daniel - newly anointed and sanctified by Father Joseph.

The unmistakable scent of Cypriot orange blossoms greeted them as they walked out into the sunshine and everyone cried out their blessings and laughed and cheered with delight.

Confetti and rose petals showered them like rain.

Marina Kallis threw a pomegranate into the throng.

One lucky girl caught it.

The pomegranate - symbol of fertility.

The irony was not lost on the tragic bride.

Celebration and merriment followed in flamboyant fashion.

It seemed that most of Nikosia had been invited to the wedding festivities.

Later as the newly married couple danced the traditional "money dance" where money was pinned to their clothing - Marina wept.

She wept with sorrow not joy.

Feasting and merriment followed well into the small hours.

Now Marina Kallis silently contemplated her fate in the marriage bed.

She was as Andromeda tied to the great rock and waiting to be sacrificed to the sea monster.

They retired to their suite at the Orient Hotel and the new bride slipped out of her wedding clothes.

For a moment she considered burning the bridal gown.

And she still had the holiday in Italy to get through.

Now she stood quivering by the bed as her new husband finally closed the door.

Marina closed her eyes.

Suddenly she felt a big warm hand clasp and fondle her left breast.

She gasped and jumped slightly at the tenderness in the touch.

Then another hand gradually slipped between her legs and into her panties to caress her.

The gentle young man who had visited her father's house and pledged his suit for her hand in marriage had been replaced by a tiger.

The man she had married had been transformed into Eros.

Marina Kallis let out a moan of pleasure as unexpected desire pulsated throughout her eager body.

And she began to respond to his warm hands as they manipulated her body.

Very soon she was groaning and swaying with ecstasy as her husband's fingers expertly moved in and out of her vagina.

Daniel Kallis tenderly kissed the nape of Marina's neck.

Then with the slightest of gestures he unclasped her bra and within minutes she was as naked as the day she was born.

Her breasts were like a pair of ripe melons.

Marina swooned as her husband kissed her passionately with his full lips.

The beard no longer mattered.

It was now a sign of his masculinity.

A sign of his virility.

Daniel Kallis had been transformed into Casanova.

She sucked on his tongue and pulled at the zip of his trousers so she could feel his manhood.

It was hard and firm.

Marina Kallis virtually tore off her husband's shirt.

She was hungry for his body.

Surprisingly taught beneath the baggy shirt.

And she was yearning for love.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the muscled and hairy chest that gleamed before her.

Danial Kallis was grinning knowingly at her,

Then the couple sank slowly onto the large bed.

And they abandoned themselves to the realm of fleshly love.

The following morning Marina Kallis awoke to find the bed disarrayed.

The bed sheets were entangled.

An empty bottle of Cristal champagne lay on the floor beside two glasses.

Strawberries and chocolates were strewn everywhere .

And Marina's body was tingling all over.

She could still smell Daniel Kallis on every part of her body.

She was like a flower that had opened up to the sun.

And she was remembering their passionate love making.

And how they had inventively made love in every conceivable position.

Reveling wildly in an oasis of eroticism.

They had opened a Pandora's box of sexual delights.

And a good Cypriot girl had been transformed into a priestess of the temple of carnality.

And Daniel Kallis had been transformed into a sexual athlete for whom every erotic experience was a delicious new challenge.

An orgasmic festival.

Marina Kallis felt like a bird soaring through the sky.

She could hear the water running in the bathroom.

"What did you do to me?" Marina Kallis called out.

Her whole body was singing.

Then the bathroom door slowly opened.

And the young woman's eyes shot wide open.

Daniel Kallis was standing before her in a pair of tight white tanga briefs.

The man leaning againt the bathroom door had a decidedly athletic physique like an Olympic swimmer

And the bulge between his legs was unmistakable.

Marina's mouth had dropped open.

Daniel Kallis had shaved off his beard.

A swarthy and broodingly handsome face with piercing green eyes and a cleft in the chin grinned back at her.

Daniel Kallis - Greek god.

His new wife was too transported to speak.

"I shaved off my beard for you!" Daniel declared "Do you like it?"

"Oh yes ... yes ... yes ... yes ..." Marina Kallis repeated over and over again.

Her body was vibrating with desire.

For Marina Kallis was already eagerly anticipating the unbridled passion and endless nights of carnality that awaited her and her well endowed new husband.

She was sure that he would be able to rise to the occasion.

Daniel Kallis confidently predicted that he and his new bride would not be getting much sleep that night.

Or any other night for that matter.

Perfume For Pleasure

Copenhagen - Denmark.

A cool autumn day.

Felix Jenson.

He was tall and boyishly good looking in a Scandinavian way with wavy flaxen hair and crisp blue eyes.

And he was one of the finest master perfumer's in Denmark.

His elegant little shop was already legendary.

Parfume Til Fornøjelse - Perfume For Pleasure.

Felix Jenson was a perfectionist and intensely driven.

He led by example.

But he these days was getting stiff competition from his biggest rival.

He found this state of affairs intolerable.

And he was willing to do anything to beat Magnus Larson.

Magnus Larson.

The only other prolific perfumer in town.

His shop was across the square from his.

But the two men never spoke to each other or even acknowledged one another.

They were caught up in a silent war.

Magnus Larson was good-looking and self assured - everything he touched turned to gold.

Rumour had it that Larson had not only aped Felix Jenson,  but that he had actually surpassed him.

Rumour had it that Larson was now being regarded as the premier perfumer in Denmark.

Felix Jenson had been dethroned by his aromatic pretender.

And now he would have sold his own soul just to see his arrogant rival humbled.

For the past four months Felix Jenson had locked himself away like a mad professor in the laboratory beneath his shop.

Nordea (by Anubis-noise
Only emerging to serve customers.

He was creating a new perfume.

And it wasn't just any perfume.

Felix Jenson wanted his new creation to be the most erotic scent ever created.

He wanted the perfume to be a complete experience.

To take the wearer to a state of heightened arousal with its intoxicating aroma.

But he was struggling to find the right blend and olfactory excellence that perfectly befit his remit.

There was an intense desperation in Felix Jenson's search for the perfect scent.

He had locked himself away for many days and nights,  trying feverishly to create a perfume of carnal abandon.

He did not eat.

He did not sleep.

He was consumed by his mission.

In the process - his wife Ingrid walked out on him.

She had had enough.

"I'm leaving you Felix ... and I am never coming back!" Ingrid declared as she stood in the doorway with her suitcases.

But there was no response.

Felix Jenson was too engrossed in his work to protest.

He didn't even notice the sound of the slamming door as Ingrid walked out of his life forever.

Their marriage was dead anyway.

"Ten years of marriage and nothing to show for it"

So his wife left him.

Walking straight into the arms of Magnus Larson!

Felix Jenson was mortified when he found out.

Magnus Larson had stolen his thunder and might as well have stolen his wife.


Another reason to detest his rival.

"This smells like hell!" Felix Jenson roared angrily - tossing the little vial of amber coloured liquid onto the floor. 

Crushed flowers.

Scattered  herbs.

Jars of spices.

The work table and floor was littered with numerous strewn ingredients and the remnants of his discarded concoctions. 

Wall to wall vials glistened on dusty shelves.

Chemistry equipment gleamed in the light that shone through the shutters.

The make shift laboratory looked like something from a Hammer horror movie.

And Jenson was creating his own Frankenstein's monster.

But it all seemed to no avail.

He wasn't satisfied with anything he created.

For the first time in his life he was completely floored.

He was losing customers.

Their lack of loyalty jarred him.

They were going in droves to visit his rival.

Suddenly he felt like he was suffocating.

Felix Jenson pushed back the shutters on the window to let in the air.

He squinted into the autumn light -  gasping for breath.

People were walking past and Jenson leaned against the window for several moments to observe them.

He noticed many familiar faces.

Then he clocked Magnus Larson standing in the doorway of his perfume shop.

Parfume For Livet - Perfume For Life.

Larson was beaming broadly.

Ingrid appeared behind him and kissed the nape of his neck.


Magnus Larson was the cat that got the cream.

And his wife.

The sight of Larson and Ingrid sent Felix Jenson into a fresh paroxysm of rage.


It was game over.

Perhaps it was time to call it a day.

Then he saw her.

A tall willowy blonde woman striding purposefully across the road.

She was wrapped in a leather coat and wearing thigh-high kinky boots.

The woman turned to Felix Jenson and gave him a half smile.

He was in a trance as he gazed at her.

She was an attractive woman with a pale complexion and clear blue eyes.

And a mysterious smile.

Her appearance could not have been timed better.

As the intense perfumer hungrily followed the pretty woman with his eyes he could tell that she enjoyed sex.

He could tell by the way she walked that she was good at it too.

Their eyes locked.

The hairs on the back Jenson's neck were standing on end.

Suddenly he knew with all certainty that she was the one.

She was the essence of his perfume.

She was the embodiment of everything he had been trying to blend in his laboratory. 

Felix Jenson knew that he had to connect with her.

He knew that he had to imbue his perfume with her core.

He felt a sudden rush of longing for the mysterious blonde vision.

He had to be with

He had to taste her.

He had to be inside her.

The intensity of his feelings surprised him.

Felix Jenson was not a lover.

He did not pursue women.

He much preferred a woman's brain to her body.

And here he was behaving completely out of character.

But he could not control himself.

With his heart pounding in his head Felix Jenson tugged off his apron and pulled on his cap.

The frantic perfumer raced out of his laboratory and up through his shop and out to the street.

She was gone.

Brown and red leaves were swirling around him.

He stood in the middle of the town square and stared around him.

She had completely vanished.

People were milling about and some were entering shops or talking on street corners.

Tourists were taking photographs of their companions.

Two lovers were kissing passionately beneath a fountain.

But there was no sign of her.

He untied his bike.

Felix Jenson began the hunt to find the elusive blonde woman.

He mounted his bike and peddled quickly away.

The feeling of desire was growing inside him.

Felix Jenson had to posses her.

He rode by numerous well known shops on his journey.

He passed several customers - politely taking off his cap and bowing to them in friendly greeting in the flamboyant way he had.

They waved back.

Felix Jenson was a popular figure in Copenhagen.

Everyone seemed to know him.

Everyone except the curious blonde woman who had evaded him.

He rode down the cobbled streets of Copenhagen - but he couldn't see her.

After nearly an hour of riding and searching Felix Jenson finally found her.

She was sitting beneath a tree.

He spied her from behind a low wall.

She was like a Greek goddess.

Felix Jenson wondered if she was naked beneath the long leather coat.

The woman looked as if she was lost in her own thoughts.

There was a pensive expression on her face as she pouted to herself.

Then she took out a banana from her handbag and slowly and carefully pealed back the yellow skin.

Felix Jenson was watching transfixed from behind the wall.

A sudden jolt of lust went straight to his groin.

The woman opened her mouth and put the banana into it.

It was the most erotic action he had ever seen.

She was chewing and masticating on the banana and putting it in and out of her mouth.

Felix Jenson felt his manhood stirring.

He suddenly imagined her lying beneath him in bed as he rode her.

Her long blonde hair filling the pillows.

When she had finished the banana,  the woman searched in her handbag for a few moments and pulled out a ripe looking peach.

The fruit looked tender and pink.

She put the fruit to her mouth.

And then she began sucking the juice out of it.

Her red mouth seemed to be draining the fruit of its fluid.

Her tongue was working away at the peach.

Suddenly Felix Jenson imagined the woman coaxing and caressing his penis like a snake charmer.

Waves of pleasure vibrated through him as he felt her red lips around his shaft.

Felix Jenson had seen enough.

It was time to act.

Jettisoning his bike Jenson walked over to the woman.

And before the master perfumer could consider what - he was doing he was towering above her.

"Hello my name is Felix ... I am a perfumer" Felix Jenson informed her "I'd like to know if you would ... if you would you like to be my muse?

The blonde woman giggled.

She was even prettier close up.

The woman looked back at Felix Jenson with a knowing look in her eyes.

"My name is Karolin" she replied.

There was a delicate lilt to her voice.

"I am from Karlstad in Sweden" she added.

Felix Jenson suddenly fought the urge to ravish the blonde woman where she sat.

Perfume (by tholang
 Her ample breasts were just peeping through a filmy red blouse. 

He noticed how long and lithe her legs were.

"How do I become your muse?" The enigmatic Swedish woman asked him.

"By becoming my mistress" Felix Jenson answered with as much bravado as he could muster.

The Swedish woman smiled broadly at him.

She still affected that strange knowing look in her clear blue eyes.

"That is an offer I cannot refuse" Karolin answered him.

She slowly eyed him up and down.

He was probably quite well built beneath the sweater.

Felix Jenson was satisfied.

There was no need for debate.

They had made a silent agreement.

It was the most scintillating day of recent memory.

And Felix Jenson felt completely exhilarated.

During the journey back to the shop - he learned that Karolin had only been in Copenhagen for three weeks.

She had come to Denmark on a special mission.

Her evasiveness only served to whet Felix Jenson's appetite even more.

She was a puzzle that needed to be solved.

A present he looked forward to slowly unwrapping in his bedroom.

The most effortlessly sexy woman he had ever met.

Although she as very cryptic about the reason for her presence in Copenhagen - somehow Felix Jenson sensed that they were kindred spirits.

This inscrutable Swedish women had walked into his life as if it had been stage managed.

Karolin Aaker was the epitome of the Felix Jenson's erotic fragrance.

She oozed feminine sensuality and the promise of sexual pleasure.

Back at  Parfume Til Fornøjelse the couple gave themselves over to hedonism.

They drank schnapps. 

They spent a couple of hours joking and laughing together about life.

Felix Jenson made some Hakkebøf for dinner and they ate it on the floor of the laboratory surrounded by flower petals and spices.

When they had finished - Jenson watched with wide eyes as the Swedish woman slowly undressed before him.

"This is what you really want" Karolin Aaker murmured invitingly.

The half light had accentuated her sylphlike frame.

Her long blonde hair fell in waves and covered her ample breasts.

She was like a mermaid - risen from the sea.

"It would be a shame not to share it" Aaker added suggestively.

Felix Jenson needed no more encouragement.

He took her gently by the hand and led her to the bedroom.

They spent the remainder of the night and the early hours of the morning making love in his big wooden bed.

The couple took their desire to the bounds of the carnal imagination and beyond.

Felix Jenson had never made love with such a responsive and instinctive lover like this before.

He behaved like a man possessed.

He had been re-born.

Karolin Aaker was so good that they made love without pausing.

They only came apart when they were too exhausted to perform anymore and sleep overtook them.

It was early in the morning when he finally awoke.

The previous night had passed in a haze of carousing and a blaze of wild sex.

"I must be dreaming" Felix Jenson sighed with a sense of disbelief.

The mysterious Swedish woman was slumbering quietly beside him in bed.

It wasn't a dream.

He had met the woman of his dreams and had crowned the occasion in a manner that was totally out of character from him.

Felix Jenson was not a sexual being.

But Karolin Aaker had released a monster within him.

Jenson rose carefully from the bed.

He felt enlivened and euphoric as he pushed open the shutters of the bedroom window to let the light in.

Felix Jenson stood naked before the window as he breathed in the cool fresh morning air.

The blonde stirred slightly as daylight streamed in.

Jenson grabbed his bath robe from the chair where he had flung it - as he did so he noticed Karolin's handbag on the bedside table.

He paused.

Something about the handbag beckoned to Felix Jenson.

The master perfumer was curious about the attractive Swedish woman who had so energetically shared his big bed.

They had spent hours laughing and making love and yet he knew nothing about her.

She was an enigma.

Felix Jenson carefully opened the handbag as he sat on the edge of the bed.

As he riffled through it he found the familiar items he expected.

Several sticks of Wrigley's Spearmint chewing gum.

A small packet of tissues.

A red Guerlain lipstick.

A few shop receipts and scrunched up pieces of paper with lists of shopping items scrawled on them.

Finally he pulled out a small phial of amber coloured liquid with a cork stopper.

His heart sank.

Karolin Aaker stirred in the big bed but Felix Jenson did not notice.

He was staring with mounting consternation at the small phial in his hands.

Jenson knew exactly what it was.

The perfume had an unusual and heady aroma.

For several minutes - Felix Jenson's head began to spin.

Flashes of light and rainbow colours began swirling before his eyes like a kaleidoscope.

He felt a sudden and primordial sexual urge that shot like lightening from his heart to his groin.

Felix Jenson was experiencing a powerful and animalistic desire to mate like a wild animal.

His olfactory instincts identified the top and middle notes and he knew what all the ingredients were.

Only a sharp minded perfumer could have created the blend.

"Magnus Larson"

Felix Jenson mouthed the words dejectedly as he tossed the phial against the wall.

It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces as the overpowering aroma of countless wild flowers, herbs and spices filled the room.

Jenson buried his face in his hands.

"Please don't hate me ..." Karolin Aaker pleaded with him "I went to Magnus Larson ... it's true"

She grabbed onto his arm but he pulled it away.

"I was always unlucky in love!" The woman explained "I heard about Larson and I came to Copenhagen to see if he could help me ..."

"So you got him to create a perfume to attract a mate" Felix Jenson finished easily for her.

"That is true" Karolin Aaker replied "And I guess it worked ... but I really like you ... not just because of the perfume!"

"You used me!" Felix Jenson exploded "Get your things together and get out of my house!"

The Swedish woman scrabbled quickly out of the bed and began hurriedly dressing herself as the incandescent master perfumer turned his back to her.

She grabbed her handbag and paused at the bedroom door.

"I'm so sorry" Karolin Aaker muttered sadly.

Then she was gone. 

Felix Jenson let out a long and weary sigh as he heard the big front door of his house slam shut.

Another woman had walked on him.

Pondering the state of affairs - Felix Jenson concluded that it was a sort of poetic justice.

It was only fair that someone someday would beat him at his own game.

This was his conclusion as he slowly shook his head.

Magnus Larson had triumphed again.

And it was a bitter pill to swallow.

As a master perfumer wedded to the magical art of scent -  Felix Jenson had fulfilled some bizarre requests.

He had created a perfume to entice a lover.

He had created a perfume to repel a lover. 

He had created a perfume to send an enemy to madness.


For several blissful moments it can transport you to another world.

As Felix Jenson knew only too well.

Cyprus rocks (by ShinyHeels

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