tagInterracial LovePerfume Ch. 01

Perfume Ch. 01


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone. I've been reading romance novels for years and finally decided to try my hand at writing my own story. This one is about Wynston, a Black BBW who is looking for true, passionate love. Her love interest in the story, Eric is a Puerto Rican who is finally settling down and is looking for a love of his own as well.

Please feel free to leave comments and feedback as I will use them to gauge whether or not I will complete the story. I hope you all are entertained and fall in love with the characters as I have.


She couldn't believe it. Wynston sat at her computer, blankly staring at the monitor. This had to be a mistake. She had gone online to check her banking account, only to find that she had a balance of -$608.00.

According to her posted activities, her car payment was drafted from her account twice! This could NOT be happening!

Wynston looked at the clock on the taskbar...damn it! The bank had long closed and talking to someone about her account would have to wait until morning. Meanwhile, she prayed that the owner of her son's day care had not cashed her check yet. The last thing she needed was more bounced items and overdraft fees.

Wynston sighed and shut down her computer. This couldn't be all there was to life. As she rested her head on her hand, she wondered if she would ever be in a better place. Would she ever come to a point in her life where she didn't have to constantly count pennies?

Her head came up as she cocked her ear, listening for sounds. She didn't hear anything coming from the other room. She'd better go check on her son.

As she made her way to his room, her somber mood lifted slightly. Terrence was 4-years-old and a miniature tornado. His TV was at full volume, blaring a Wonder Pets episode. Trucks, Mega Blocks and DVDs were strewn all across the floor; and in the middle of it all was her little cub.

Apparently, he'd worn himself out and had fallen asleep on the floor while playing. Wynston was thankful. She did not have the energy to argue with Terrence about his bedtime tonight. The negative balance on her checking account had deflated her.

She lovingly picked him up and placed him gently in his bed. She smiled when he flipped onto his stomach, and scooted up on his knees so that his little rump was in the air. After straightening up the room a bit and turning the volume down on the TV, Wynston turned off the lights and quietly walked out of Terrence's room.

She decided that she would watch a little TV in the living room. It was this part of the day that Wynston looked forward to. When her son was asleep and the apartment was quiet, she could unwind and spend time with herself. She flipped through the channels for about an hour when the usual feelings of longing and loneliness began to creep in on her.

Wynston had broken up with Terrence's father three years ago...well, to be honest, she had packed up her shit and hauled ass with her baby in tow.

"Good riddance," she mumbled to herself as she thought about her tumultuous relationship with her ex. Wynston was extremely happy with the choice she'd made to leave that nasty son of a bitch; she'd dodged a fucking bullet.

As time passed, her ex only confirmed what she already knew. That he was not the man for her, and she was better off without him. In retaliation, he had dragged her through a lengthy custody battle all because he could. So much time and money had been wasted on nonsense...

Not tonight. Wynston didn't feel like dredging up the past. As she turned off the TV and got ready for bed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Eying herself critically, she turned to the left, then to the right. She sighed at her reflection. Sure she was pretty and she always took care with her appearance. But she used to be a damn bombshell.

Just five years ago she had looked and felt like a goddess...until she'd gotten pregnant. Ironically, though, Wynston hadn't gained that much weight during her pregnancy. It was after Terrence had gotten sick that she put on the weight. He had only been 5 months old.

Her son had been in and out of the hospital nonstop. There were surgeries, biopsies, procedures, tubes that ran all throughout his body... during one particular hospital visit, Terrence had stayed for two weeks. That's when Wynston had learned that she was a stress eater.

Her eyes wandered down to her stomach. Gone were the flat abs that she'd never had to worry about. Now she had a small, fleshy paunch, and it had been damn impossible to get rid of.

Enough of this! Wynston shook herself, threw on a t-shirt and climbed into bed. As she lay there, she thought about how she wanted to go forward with her life. She was now at a place where she was open to dating and starting a new relationship. This time, she wanted more...hell, she wanted it all. She wanted the fairy tale, the romance, the soul mate, star-crossed lovers deal. She wanted to be consumed.

Was she naïve to think that kind of love was possible? Wynston didn't know. But what she did know was that there was a very big, auspicious hole in her life. And moreover, it had been two long years since she'd enjoyed a man between her thighs. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thing she thought about was how nice it would've felt to have two big, strong arms wrapped around her. ***

The next morning, as Wynston dressed for work, she reached into the drawer on her nightstand. She needed something to life her spirits badly. Today, after she dropped Terrence at day care, she was going to the bank to talk about her account.

Pulling out the pretty, heavy bottle, she took off the top, closed her eyes and inhaled. The One by Dolce & Gabbana was her favorite fragrance. She used it sparingly as it was pretty expensive. After eye-balling it for almost a year, she'd bought a bottle on a whim when she'd gotten her bonus. It had been the only treat she'd allowed herself in ages; and on days like this, she pulled it out when she wanted to feel pretty.

Wynston grabbed her purse and Terrence's backpack as they headed out the door. Hopefully the bank would see that this was a huge mistake. She sent up a silent prayer to every benevolent force that she knew of; because today, she would need a miracle.


Eric glanced down at his watch again. Shit! Could the bank teller move any fucking slower?! He watched as she talked to the customer in front of him. Apparently the two were acquaintances and they obviously weren't talking about banking.

Eric was usually a patient man, but he had a real problem with insolent people. At the top of his list were asshole customer service reps.

He clenched his jaw and stared pointedly at the teller. When she caught sight of him, he watched as she perked up with interest. Eric mentally rolled his eyes. He usually received this kind of attention from women. He knew that he was handsome; but to him, it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like he sat around all day thinking about his looks.

But what Eric Torres didn't understand, was that he was beautiful. His 6'4" frame towered over most. He wasn't a hulking mass of muscle, but he had a very lean, athletic build. Because he largely sat at a desk all day, Eric found it imperative to make time to work out or play basketball with his boys.

He kept his dark hair cut low and his goatee neatly trimmed. He owned the most beautiful, honey-colored eyes that were framed by girly lashes. They had been a source of teasing for as long as he could remember. His nose was straight and his lips were full and kissable. If he was not as masculine as he was, he would've been pretty.

The opposite sex had always told him how gorgeous he was; and so Eric began to use his looks to his advantage. From middle school through college and well into adulthood, his top priority in all things was sex - even money came second.

He spent the day planning who he was going to screw, where and when; and then...he executed. There was never a deficit in willing participants either. Girls and women alike were always throwing themselves at him. So of course, Eric indulged.

But now that he was 35-years-old, he was tired of it all. Actually, by the time he'd turned 30, he began to slow down from all his womanizing. Damn him if he didn't start wanting more from his relationships. During one of their many talks, his dad had told him this day would come. Eric hadn't believed him. In his opinion, what sane man would willfully give up all the ass he could handle for the same, one woman? Every night. Apparently, him.

Eric had not been intimate with a woman in six months. For a man like him, that was the equivalent to an eternity. He had a huge libido and could very easily dial up one of the women he had on reserve. But he didn't. None of them was relationship-material; and Eric, honest man that he was, admitted to himself that he now wanted something more.

He even toyed with the idea of marriage, and eventually a home and children. As Senior Fraud Analyst at his firm, Eric had done well for himself at a relatively young age. The money was excellent, and he loved his job; but the one thing that was missing from his life was love. "Sir can I help you?" Eric was pulled from his thoughts as the teller motioned to him.

"Yes, good morning," Eric said in his deep baritone. "I'd like to deposit into this account." He slid a deposit slip and a check for $500 toward the teller.

"Okay. I can certainly help you with that," she said a little too syrupy. She was openly flirting with him.

As the bank teller entered the account number into the computer, Eric braced himself for what he knew to be the inevitable. Sure enough Angela Reed - as her name tag showed - glanced up and smiled brightly. "Are you having a good morning so far?"

Eric sighed. Why did people insist on chatting when they were handling his money? He politely replied. "Yes, I am, thank you. And yourself?"

Angela gazed at him, slowly nodding her head. Eric didn't have time for this. He was not coming on to this girl in the least. But here she was blushing as if he'd handed her a dozen roses.

"Um, and may I see your ID, please?"

Eric did as she asked. "The account isn't mine. It's my mother's. I just wanted to deposit the money into it," Eric explained.

Angela's voice lowered. "Okay. We're not supposed to give account information or receipts to non-account holders. But I'll make an exception this time." She winked.

Eric's eyebrow shot up. What the fuck? For a split second he seriously debated outting her but decided against it. He actually was kind of surprised by her. She was aggressive in a way that defied her appearance. She was a skinny, mousy little thing. Her brown hair had been pulled back in a knot and she wore the thickest glasses Eric had ever seen on a woman so young.

Angela was kind of tall but way too thin for his tastes; and her clothes didn't flatter her at all. She wasn't ugly. Just... whatever she was, Eric wasn't interested. He wished she would hurry up so he could be on his way. At this rate, he'd never get to work.

He watched as she wrote something on the back of the receipt. When she was done, she slid the slip of paper to him and told him to have a nice day. As he walked away from the counter, he looked down to see that Angela had written her name and phone number.


Wynston glanced at her cell phone. The bank would be open in about two minutes, and already there were a few cars in the parking lot. Some people were standing outside, waiting for the doors to open. She hated it when other people had the same idea as her.

It looked like she wasn't going to get to work as early as she'd hoped...not with this many people waiting. As the doors were unlocked, and people hurriedly filed in, Wynston realized she'd left her driver's license in the back pocket of her jeans...at home. SHIT!!!!

She turned around and stomped back to her car. This was definitely going to be a long day.


By the time Wynston made it back to the bank, she was hot and frustrated. It was already shaping up to be one of those days. As she walked to the end of the line, her shoulders dropped. A million people were now ahead of her, and there were only two tellers at the front.

As Wynston read the CNN crawl on the bottom of the mounted flat screen TV, she became aware of the man standing in front of her. She had not noticed him before because she had been so irritated. Now that the A/C had begun to cool her and the line was slowly moving, she took in his extremely tall frame. He had to be about 6'3" or so...much taller than her 5'6" frame.

From what she could see, he was dressed in an expensive-looking dark suit, and his head was bowed as if he was reading something. From the back, he was handsome. As usual, curiosity got the better of her.

Wynston tried to peak around him to get a glimpse of his profile. I bet he's ugly, she thought. As if he'd been privy to her thoughts, the tall guy looked around and then turned to pin her with his amber gaze. Wynston's eyes grew large with surprise. He definitely was NOT ugly!


Eric was pissed. The teller had put his deposit into the wrong account. He didn't know if she'd done it on purpose, knowing he would come back, or if she'd been that much of an idiot. All he knew, was he was not pleased with having to turn around and get back in that long ass line. Angela had better pray he didn't end up in front of her again.

As he was staring down at the receipt in his hand, Eric caught a whiff of perfume. It wasn't any ordinary fragrance, either. It was lovely...very, soft and very feminine.

He looked up from the receipt and tried to locate the source. It definitely wasn't the dude standing in front of him...at least he hoped not. No, he had just caught the smell, so it had to have belonged to someone who'd just come in.

On Eric's left was the counter that held the deposit/withdrawal slips and envelopes. Nobody was standing there. On his right was a waiting area and a pretty old security guard.

Eric looked behind him and down into the prettiest face he'd seen in a while. As he watched, the lovely woman stared back at him, clearly surprised. When she shifted to take a step back, Eric smelled the perfume again. It was definitely coming from her.

He beheld the vision before him. The woman wore her hair short. She had a cute, heart-shaped face and a pert little nose. Her lips were full and sparkling with lip gloss.

Then there were her eyes. They were ridiculously beautiful. There wasn't anything significant about the color...it was just that they were so large with thick, long lashes framing them.

She had smooth mocha skin and her body was very curvy the way Eric liked. Her breasts were large above wide, curvy hips that fanned out from her small waist. Her thighs were thick and womanly.

Instinct told him this creature was different from the women he'd always dealt with. All of them were jaded and had a hardness about them. This woman, though...she had a sweet air of innocence about her that Eric found refreshing.

Of course, he could be wrong. She could've been hell on two legs. For that matter, she could've already been taken. He hoped neither was the case, because she had captured his full attention.

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