Bvlgari Pour Femme
by Patrizia


I watched as Lindsey McDonald walked back and forth next to the bar, whispering into his cell phone and gesturing nervously with his hand. In front of me, sitting at the table, Lilah Morgan gulped down the third glass of red wine while looking at her partner from the corner of her eye.

The man hung up, his face contorting with a mixture of anger and frustration. “There’s been a slight change of plans,” he informed us when he sat back at the table. “I need to go back to the office. He took out a checkbook from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to Lilah. “You girls finish your meal,” he added, winking at me in a way that probably made most girls melt. Even though I was not one of those girls, I smiled back, never letting the opportunity to flirt pass me by.

“But…” Lilah attempted a protest, perhaps a question, but Lindsey was already out of reach by the team she reacted. She dropped the check book into her purse and she smiled nervously at me. “Dessert?”


“Why do I get the impression you’re scared of me?” I asked her after the waiter took the dessert tray away.

"Please. I work for an evil law firm. You're the least scary thing I've seen in a while. "

"I'll take that as a compliment," I replied, twisting my lips in a wicked smile. She pretended unconcern, sipping the rest of her coffee before standing up.

"We should get going. You have a busy day tomorrow," she told me and started walking toward the exit without waiting for me. I remained at the table for a couple of minutes, before following her out. She was standing on the sidewalk, next to the limo. "I'll give you a ride," she said before sliding in. I followed her and sat opposite her, stretching my legs and lifting them up next to her lap. I smiled at her disapproving glare.

"Relax, mom," I teased her and her face went pale.. She flipped open a compact and nervously smoothed the barely visible wrinkles on the sides of her eyes while she pretended to fix her make up.

I looked her over while she pretended to ignore me. It was obvious that my survey of her body made her uncomfortable. She was tall and had a nice body, something I had realized before, but I didn't mind going over it twice. Her hair was lightly highlighted and ended at shoulder's length, framing her face.

Her skin was flawless, as smooth and pale as the champagne silk blouse she wore, Smoothly applied of make up accented her edgy cheekbones and full lips. The blouse skimmed the curves of her firm breasts, which I imagined were even paler than her complexion.

She was quite a piece of woman, but there was something beyond her beauty that attracted me to her. It wasn't her arrogance. I've seen it done better. It was something more subtle, as if the air around her felt easier to breathe.

Then I realized it was the scent, her perfume. I took a deep breath and absorbed the jasmine tea fragrance,, sending a shiver down my spine as I remembered . The first time I smelled jasmine, was the day I met Cordelia Chase.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lilah asked.,She shook her head slightly, calling me a freak without saying the word.

I smirked because I knew it’d make her furious. Then I simply closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, getting high with that scent that now seemed to be all over me, too.

“Look, if you've been taking drugs…” she began. I opened my eyes wide and stared at her. wIntimidated, she didn't finish the sentence.

“That perfume…” I said. “What is it?”

“Bvlgari pour Femme,” she replied with a French accent and no further details.

“It’s so last season,” I sneered, thinking that it had to be, since Cordelia used to wear it a year ago.

“It’s many seasons old,” she explained, with a sneer of her own. “Perfume is a trade mark. You don’t follow trends, you simply limit yourself to the ones that define you,” she lectured me. Her answer seemed like something the snobby Cordelia Chase could have said, too, which, strangely, made her even more appealing to me.

Lilah reminded me a lot of Cordelia in that pretentious and bitchy way. The fact that Lilah seemed slightly uncomfortable around me also reminded me of the effect I used to have on Cordelia. That was when I realized Lilah could be more interesting than I’d imagined.


“Hmmm yeah,” she purred like a kitten whenever my tongue caressed her clit. I kept my eyes closed as I traced the surface of her body, breathing in deeply all the time, letting the scent of jasmines mix with the smell of her arousal.

She arched her back and lifted her hips, pressing her body against my mouth, urging me to stop being a tease without saying it. Her perfect skin reminded me so much of Cordelia that it was impossible not to think about her while I buried my tongue between Lilah’s folds. She moaned and wrapped her legs around my shoulders when I was so deep inside her that my nose was pressing directly against her clit. Her whole body quivered when I removed my tongue. I was just teasing and she knew it, but that didn’t mean she could take it very well.

I kept my face above her cunt, close enough to let her feel my breath on her skin but far enough to avoid any contact, torturing her with need, just like her perfume tortured me, making me think of Cordelia and how I wanted to have her underneath me. One of my fingers entered her slowly and she twisted in desperation. Sitting up suddenly she pulled at my hair, making me look at her.

“Fuck me now!” It was an order, and for the first time since I met her she showed me what she was made of. I could have snapped her neck right then and there and she knew it. I had to respect the woman for that.

Suddenly Lilah Morgan seemed absolutely interesting for herself. I gave her what she wanted. I actually gave it to HER and not to the Cordelia Chase I had seen in her. I found myself wondering what else could bring out that aggressive side of hers.

She looked up at me after I inserted three fingers inside her with no preamble. “Now you’re talking,” Lilah sighed as I pushed deeper inside her. My first impulse was too smack her for her smugness, but I twisted my fingers instead. I never said she could order me around. But then, I never said anything to her, I just jumped her in the limo and told her that we were going to her place.

She never questioned me, and that I attributed to fear, but I’m beginning to think that she liked the change of plans. Her guttural, fierce groans brought my attention back to her while her hips collided violently against my hand.

I looked at her. Probably for the first time since we arrived at her apartment, I really looked at her. Her breasts were full, silky and extremely pale. I thought she could use some color and I looked around to see if there was a whip or paddle in sight. Nothing.

“Where do you hide your toys?” I asked her, my voice soft and low: sexy. The thought of leaving some red marks over those milky breasts was driving me insane.

She smiled mischievously. “Let’s save them for later,” she winked at me while her hips urged me to fuck her faster. I returned the smile. Stupid bitch. If I ask for something it’s because I want it –or need it- now, not later. It was a lesson she would learn the hard way.

I withdrew my fingers from her cunt slowly, watching the confusion grow on her face as she waited for me to bury them back in. She waited one second, then another one. I smirked and turned to leave.

“Come back here, you fucking psycho,” she screamed; another mistake. I would have gone out of my way to please her when she showed me her strength, but she thought she had a say in it, and she was wrong.

I stopped at the door to inhale her scent one last time. “Bvlgari, was it?” I asked her as I licked her slick juices off my fingers. I didn’t wait for her answer. Once outside, the contrast of the cool air of the night reminded me of how worked up I was. Tomorrow night: Cordelia.


Nearly 20 hours later, I wandered around Queen C’s room, unsuccessfully looking for the bottle of the freaking perfume. Make up and clothes littered the place, but there was no sign of the fragrance. I found a couple of dildos in one drawer, romance novels and lots of aspirin. Her Sunnydale mementos were displayed on her desk: trophies, tiaras and even an old Miss Piggy doll that defined her high-school years perfectly. The bottle of perfume lay on its side almost hidden behind the pig.

Cordelia didn’t smell of jasmine anymore, which would have been a disappointment if she didn’t look so desirable. Her new fragrance was fainter and citric, but she seemed more subtle in general. Her clothes were simpler, too. I leaned down and tasted her lips once again, before lying next to her on the floor.

I opened the nearly empty bottle and applied a few drops on her neck and cleavage. Lifting her dress, I let a few drops fall on her stomach before I removed her panties. The mixture of jasmine and the scent that was uniquely hers made a perfect combination. There was a hint of arousal, perhaps created by fear, perhaps genuine desire, though the bottom line was that I triggered it.

I licked the path from her breasts to her groin desperately before I buried my tongue inside her, needing to taste her more than anything else. It would have been more interesting if I hadn’t knocked her out in the first place. I didn’t have a lot of time, either. She or Wesley could regain consciousness soon. One of my hands went straight to my pussy and I brought myself off quickly while I licked Cordelia’s flesh. I came hard and fast, pressing my body against hers after the climax.

There wasn’t much time to cuddle so I quickly stood up and carried on with my task, although now there had been a slight change of plans. I’d only take Wesley, since I had other plans for Cordelia. It hadn’t been much fun without hearing her screaming, begging me to stop –or maybe to go on-.

I dragged Wesley to the door before picking him up and carrying him over my shoulder. Once outside Cordelia’s apartment, I remembered I had left something behind: the bottle of perfume, my little memento of this visit. Thinking about it for a second, I decided I wouldn’t go back to get it. It served a better purpose defining her.