Replica: Lazy Sunday Morning
A short story series inspired by the Maison Margiela Replica Perfumes that are known for their unique concept of capturing moments and memories through fragrance. Each scent evokes specific places and times filled with love, drama, friendship, and pain.
Chapter 1
It was an incredible evening! So many weeks apart during which heated words and even more heated images got exchanged, only fueling the desire for each other. As soon as their skin touched it felt like homecoming. Like the warm blanket on a freezing cold winter night that keeps you protected from any strong winds and leaks in the walls. No matter how well you try to build your house. Hire the best architects, the most skilled workers and use materials of the highest quality. It is impossible to be 100% safe from this nasty breeze. Created by an open window or door, it is something that puts us under pressure, that's sitting in the back of our minds, deeply buried but always present. Even if we try to overplay it. Sometimes it is only this blanket that puts us to rest.
As soon as her hands reached around him, spread wide on his back — soft skin on her fingertips, feeling his muscle fibers. As soon as his arms were fully embracing her hips and he felt her breathing, transcribing onto his body: breathin' in … and out … with each iteration calmer than before. They are united now. Finally! Once again, but on a limited time — unfortunately. Or maybe, fortunately? Because while difficult, it leads to excitement. The difficulty is the excitement! Even an incredibly curated meal eaten daily loses its appeal. Be it the lack of time to prepare, the skill, or the ingredients needed. Those all cause difficulty. But it also makes the result exponentially more desirable!
However, this was far away from a meal. Although, common traits were shared: at first the visual appeal needed to be high. It is important to make sure that every detail is hinting, at what more there is to expect. Followed by the smell, which has the highest chance of being responsible for the first wave of arousal. Creeping up the nostrils, triggering familiar memories, activating the fantasy about what's yet to come, and causing the mouth to water. Causing it to prepare for what's yet to come. The grand finale, what all other senses lead towards: the taste.
There was nothing holding her back now from blessing him with her aromas, squeezing his head between her thighs and caressing his head while he was making her legs shake. Up until the climax, after which his glazed face emerged, kissingly moved up her body and gave her a quick taste of her own before putting her head down on the edge of the bed and filling her mouth. This was the additional sense — the one of homecoming — like nothing else ever mattered or will matter, as long as they remain to share those moments of mutual exhaustion with each other.
Encapsulated in their bubble with the surroundings muted and forgotten. Only focussed on each other's eyes. Deeply gazing and searching. His mouth opens: “I want us to spend Sunday together. You are special to me, and this day will be as well. Join me!”
Chapter 2
Those words accompanied her the entire ride. An annoying ride, filled with obstacles and difficulties. But it is already known what difficulties can do to one's excitement … When the train arrived she saw him waiting for her and the senses quickly awoke. As if there was no time between his words and now. Being reunited here, on the outskirts of the city, a safe space far away from the noisy roads, surrounded by nature and garnished with a scenic wellness oasis seemed like the formula for a perfect Sunday. And while he certainly felt the same, it was only him who belonged here, as she officially had no business to intrude on this space. It was simply not somewhere she belonged. However, to him, the opinion of others didn’t matter, and only his own desire counted — not the one of any outsider. So whatever it took, to get her into this secluded hideout, unnoticed and unbothered, was prepared and executed perfectly, such that they found themselves shortly after her arrival in a cozy bathrobe next to a crystal blue swimming pool. The masquerade played out perfectly and no one knew she was here!
As soon as the robe slipped off their skins, unleashing a whiff of white musk, it simultaneously dawned on them: the fantasy that previously only played out in their heads was now a reality. Envisioning a scenario is limiting, experiencing it adds all the layers. Entering the water felt like pure bliss. The warm water enveloping their skin and a soapy note of Lily’s, which was omnipresent in the air, brought both of them some much-needed peacefulness. Quickly finding herself back in his arms she laid down on the water. His hands gently on her back, letting herself float on the water's surface. Eyes closed. The very slight movements and his soft voice whispering in her ear how gorgeous she was… how much he enjoyed her presence … put her into a trance-like state.
Resurrecting from this cocoon of quietness and exiting the water only added to the experience. Moving to the divan, reading out T.C. Boyle books to each other, cuddling and necking, before grabbing a drink at the bar and finally ending up in the sauna together — time flew by this Sunday. But seeing each other's bodies graciously moving through the amenities, making use of every luxury available, only fueled their desire for each other. At first, a slight touch here, then an inconspicuous stroke there. But seeing each other lying naked in the sauna, the small pearls of sweat forming on their skin and looking like glitter … A firm hold, an intensive kiss … this wasn't bearable in public anymore. So both decided to finally move into their private room, where exhausted, but fully relaxed they collapsed onto each other.
Chapter 3
The exhaustion only stayed shortly with them, as their skin, which was now fully softened up thanks to the wellness treatment, just felt too good to be left untouched. And touching quickly turned into more. Turned into long eye contact, deep kisses, and whispered verbal teasing. While she was freely moving in this place, she was still reliant on him — a certain power he had over her, and more than willing to exploit it. Leaning into the narrative of her having to “pay him back”, only heated her up even more, and quickly they found themselves in the marble bathroom in front of a huge mirror looking at their young and fit bodies melting into each other.
The luxurious surroundings, the peaceful quietness, and the clean smell were now being disturbed by raw desire, piercing sounds, and sweat. The contrast that always accompanied their relationship was symbolized in this very moment. Looking into the mirror, both could watch it unfold in front of their own eyes. Turned on even more by it, suddenly a deep moan escapes from her mouth and her legs start shaking. Fully mesmerized by this spectacle the perpetrator was approvingly watching this zenith unfold, not noticing, that her eyes rolled back and her eyelids began to slowly close down. In an instant, her conscience was fully gone and the already battered legs gave in causing her head to hit the marble countertop. The dull noise produced a shiver that ran through his body like an electric shock. Immediately he backed up, rushed to lift her body, and placed her on the floor. Blood shot from her nose over her beautiful face and covered the soft lines. A look of neutrality layed on her, and wouldn’t there be the blood, it would have looked like the dozen times she fell asleep in his arms. Snapping out of those thoughts he quickly tried cleaning her up and placing a wet towel on her forehead. But holding his palm over her nose and mouth, brought clarity: there was nothing he could feel. No breathing … no sign of life. Spreading open her closed eyelids he saw how her beautiful blue eyes were filling up with blood.
Immediately he rushed to the toilette and threw up in it. His eyes were now filling up with water and unfathomable sadness, guilt, but also love flooded him. Returning to her lying on the bright stone floor, motionless, her head in a pool of blood, those feelings got even more intense. But this wasn’t all. He could feel and see the energy — her life — escaping from her body. Forming a glowing mist that streamed out of her pores and slowly but surely made its way towards the ceiling. And then it clicked. He knew exactly what to do!
Running towards the corridor where his baggage was lying, he swiftly dug through everything he packed, hecktickly throwing things on the ground, before finally stopping, as he found what he was looking for: A black handle, engraved with a cross and a small button on the side. He pressed it and in an instant, a blade flipped out. He ran his fingers over the cold, silver steel. Even in this dim light, it was shimmering beautifully and for a moment he forgot everything. But quickly it dawned on him, so he returned to the bathroom and kneed over the still-warm body.
The blade was extremely sharp, and without applying much pressure on her stomach he could start carving into her skin. It turned red, then opened up. Without being too deep immediately the silver tip got covered in her dark red, almost black-looking blood. Like butter, it glid through the skin, and after a few more movements her stomach was now portraying a pentagram. Scarred and filled with blood. Which caused even more of the energy-filled mist to slowly rise up from those wounds.
Once he was done with this first step he got up from squatting over her body, went to the bathroom counter, and grabbed a small bottle of iris-scented massage oil. The big blood stain, where she hit her head, was still clearly visible and stood out in this otherwise clean, well-put-together, luxurious environment. A shiver ran through his body as he turned around to face the dead body again and began to sprinkle the oil over her. Then spreading her hands and legs away from her body he began placing small memorabilias at each cardinal direction. An earing of hers in the north, a hair tie in the south, a ring in the west, and another one in the east. Now, everything was prepared to start the ritual.
Walking up to the earring staying next to her head and looking down, he noticed her platin blonde hair was now fully soaked in blood. A look he never imagined on her. The blonde, bright appearance was gone and only darkness radiated. He raised the knife until it was waist-high and pointed it outwards away from her. A small blood droplet came loose and fell on the earring. Immediately a bright green flame rose only millimeters away from his face. Unimpressed by that he began to walk in a circle: first to the ring in the west, then to the hair tie in the south and the ring in the east, before finally returning to the north. During all of this, the flame followed him and formed a circle of energy, shining bright like fire, around the dead body. It wasn’t hot, wasn’t burning, it was a dome created to trap all the mist escaping her body. Watching from the outside this was mesmerizing.
The dome quickly began filling up with smoke, up to a point where it was so dense, that one couldn’t see through it. It was impossible to describe, to explain, to even believe what was happening, and then it began to lighten up. Drawn into it he was unable to focus on anything else. Even when it started to hurt his eyes he just couldn’t look away. It was like looking into the soul of his now-deceased lover. All her desire, respect, love, and lust towards him were projected through this spectacle. And while he knew, that this was the last time he was experiencing that, never able to relive the moments they once had again — he wasn’t sorrowful. An unusual feeling of calmness overcame him. Everything they shared, all the adventures, memories, and travels they had together were extraordinary. With an edge nobody was able to match…. and he knew that she felt the same when she exited his life.
Purely a fictional story! All Images are generated by Midjourney. It’s a great service so check it out.
