I have an erotic weakness for men’s perfume.
One of the things that I love to do whenever I get intimate with a man is smelling his neck. I lean on his shoulder, turn my neck to his and inhale deeply on that area behind his ears. I’m fortunate that most of the men that I’ve gone out or slept with smelled exceptionally good. I’m VERY particular when it comes to a man’s scent. The best men’s perfume that I’ve smelled so far is Drakkar Noir. So old school of me, I know, but Drakkar is one of those classic perfumes that smell so masculine without being too strong.
But a man doesn’t have to wear an expensive designer perfume just to turn my olfactory senses into overdrive. He could be wearing drug-store variety cologne like Axe and still smell so darn good. Hell, he could be wearing only soap and aftershave and still turn me on. For me, the smell of a man who just came out of the shower is one of the most heavenly scents in the world. It all depends on the man and how well his skin blends with the smell. It also depends on the memory associated with it.
Scent alone has the ability to remind me of memories that I thought I’ve long forgotten. I’ve been deliciously reminded of one such memory when I was walking towards Greenbelt yesterday. As I was heading towards the mall’s entrance, I almost bumped into a guy who was rushing towards the parking lot. As he ran off to the opposite direction, I caught a clear whiff of his perfume.
Oh my God. That scent…
I felt such a rush that I had to stop in the middle of the street for several seconds while I regained my composure. I recovered just in time to avoid a Chevrolet Suburban from flattening me to the ground.
That scent. It brought me back to the time when I was still working at the tallest tower in the country. I had this gorgeous supervisor (whose name I won’t mention, of course) whom I have been salivating for ever since he interviewed me for the analyst job. I was ecstatic when I got accepted, even more when he became my immediate superior a couple of months after I got in. I’m telling you, that man had the uncanny ability to make me wet my panties everytime he looks at me directly whenever he was issuing some office-related task. This obsession with the boss didn’t make me lose my control however. Not until several months later.
We bumped into each other at a party. Let’s just say it wasn’t the kind of party that you would want your boss to see you in. And vice-versa. We just laughed it off and he said, “Don’t worry, what happens here stays here.”
Fast forward to one hour later. We had a few drinks too many and we were in the middle of the fucking dance floor doing something that would put Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey to shame. My nibbling and sniffing tendencies were at full play. I wrapped my arms around that neck and inhaled deeply.
Jesus Christ, but he smelled SO good.
That did me in. I kissed the boss furiously and he kissed me right back. Soon we were all over each other in full view of God and everybody, not giving a shit what they think. I unbuttoned his shirt and took in more of that masculine scent. It drove me nuts. I nibbled delicately on his chest and worked my way up his neck again. Like a gentle vampire, I bit his neck firmly but carefully, making sure not to leave any marks. His hands were massaging my breasts. I grabbed at his waist and pulled him closer to me. He was hard. He was ready.
I wish I could tell you that we ended up in some room with a red, round bed and that we fucked each other’s brains out, but no. After having my fill of his scent (and his neck) I somehow regained whatever marbles I had left and realized that I JUST MADE OUT WITH MY BOSS.
I told him, “I have to go, it’s getting late.” Bullshit. It’s only 2 am.
He looked at me carefully. Slowly, he replied. “Ok. Are you sure you can go home by yourself?”
“Yeah. I’m sure. Bye.” Without waiting for his answer, I spun on my stiletto heels and left him there.
We saw each other the following Monday and resumed normal flow of things. We didn’t discuss what happened or gave an inclination that we were thinking about it. We didn’t need to say it out loud, but in our invisible antennas, we were both in agreement that yes, whatever happened there will definitely stay there. No thinking of what-could-have-beens. No contemplating on what should or shouldn’t have happened. Damn it.
It was during one of those one-on-one meetings months later that I was able to work up the nerve to ask him what perfume he was wearing.
“It’s BLV Pour Homme. Bvlgari. You like it?”
I shrugged. “It’s okay.” Baby, you have NO idea. I thought. If I can only have my way, we will be locking that goddamn door right now and I will hike my mini skirt up so you can see my white lace thong. I will push you back in one of those leather executive chairs and I will impale myself on your hard, throbbing dick and screw you till kingdom come. I swear, I will bite your neck again and again and I will make sure to leave marks this time. You hear me?
I left the room before I had the chance to blurt out what I was thinking.
So I went to one of those stalls in the mall that sell original perfume per ml. I bought a small vial of the damn perfume and rushed home. I went to my bedroom immediately and opened the vial. I sprinkled the scent liberally on my pillows and sheets. Soon the room was filled with his smell, and I got so turned on I had to do what I had to do. Wink, wink.
That vial has long been emptied and I have moved on to other offices, moved on to other men. Curiously, that scent didn’t haunt me again until yesterday. It’s been a long time, but the smell brought back the memory as if it happened just moments ago.
