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Be fiercely fabulous and get your motor revving with this oh so dark and delicious take on chocolate cherries - a bevy of darkest ambers and chocolates blended with varieties of tangy wild cherry and luscious black cherry plus just a hint of deep vetiver. To ensure you are the Cherry On Top, we’ve boosted this baby with our exclusive SEXOLOGY pheromone mix...it’s the science of sex! Designed to encourage a deep lasting bond with a decidedly lustful edge. Sexy and snuggly, playful and sultry.

MAGICKAL MEANINGS OF INGREDIENTS:
CHERRY ~ Stimulates and attracts love, attracts mate. Cheerfulness, good humor, mood elevator, divination.
CHOCOLATE/COCOA ~ Lightens emotions, evokes feelings of love.
AMBER ~ Fertility, creativity, love, luck, riches.
VETIVER ~ Enhances perception of beauty. Love, sensuality, money, luck, hex-breaking.

 

Created by: Mara Fox

Label art: Mara & Jennifer

Description: Julie (luna65)

Pherotine Collection, February 2018

 

from Cherry On Top

a Savannah Finch adventure

by Julian Lune

(part one)

 

Say what you will about bars, but I always encountered my most interesting clients in such places. Bast and I sometimes imbibed at The Saint, which I certainly wouldn’t have chosen as a drinking destination, but Sebastian liked its’ vibe - featuring an array of eager females looking to down a few shots and take him out in the alleyway for some questionable intimacy. Every time we visited I could see him sniffing the hormonal and alcohol-filled air with demonic glee.

 

So imagine the vibe when a totally badass betty stepped inside and heads turned in almost robotic response. Even I was feeling her as she click-clacked her way to the bar and ordered a Wild Turkey with PBR back.

 

“Earthy,” I murmured. I tried not to smirk but wow, she was exactly the type who frequented the place and yet something more. Leather-clad and long-haired, a goddess among the plebs and the DJ started spinning Motley Crue, which made her smile. But then I heard a deep rumbling beside me, it was Bast growling, hackles raised.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I exclaimed. Not again. Every time we encountered a succubus he got pissy like this. It’s not even like incubi and succubi were exclusionary in their environment, or in competition for precious sexual energies, or whatever. They just didn’t like each other. She turned, and stared him down with eyes which captivated me - I couldn’t decide what color they were, they kept shifting ever so subtly. I was getting all tingly until Bast put his hand on the back of my neck.

 

“Savvy, you’re about to start drooling and I will not be embarrassed by you acting human.”

 

“Oh please, like everyone else in the place isn’t doing it too?”

 

And then she came over to us.

 

“You’re Savannah Finch, right?” she asked, in a voice I can only compare to smoked honey.

 

I swallowed, took a sip of my Sidecar, then swallowed again. “Yeah,” I finally said, still hoarser than I wanted to be.

 

“I have a problem,” she said as she joined us, her tone pitched below the music and the sounds of the video poker machines and the loose talk of the other patrons yet entirely audible.

 

“They miss you in the Pit and are going to take away all your fun?” I asked, and it was a genuine inquiry. I mean to say she was goddamn stunning, and I know from demonic glamours.

 

Her crimson mouth did smirk. “Amusing, but someone is attempting to cage me.”

 

Bast made a derisive sound and lit a cigarette, passing it to her. She inhaled gratefully and eyed him with wary curiosity. “Flambe, I would have not expected you to remain in the city after -”

 

He waved a hand. “Savannah couldn’t possibly get on without me, you know.”

 

I rolled my eyes then leaned forward and licked my lips. “A binding?” I asked.

 

“Of a sort.” She took another drag and I kept waiting for someone to complain but how could they, when she looked so sexy doing anything? “It happened here, I was given a cordial by someone.”

 

“A drink, you mean? Like a potion?”

 

“A -” Her lovely forehead creased in thought. “- a chocolate. It was in a box of some kind.”

 

“Wait, wait - like a box of chocolates? A heart-shaped box?”

 

“Yes, that’s it. I ate it and it was delicious but now I am compelled to visit him for more. He bores me now, but the chocolate!”

 

She removed her jacket and the satin-and-lace halter underneath could have caused a riot if it had slid just a inch or so in any direction. Supernatural gravity displayed her luscious attributes and I almost did drool, but I caught myself just in time. Sebastian downed his shot and waited for me to state the obvious.

 

“Had you...ever tasted chocolate before this?” I asked her.

 

Those beautiful eyes enlarged and I wanted to sigh. “Not this kind.”

 

It came to me after a moment. Miss Mabel’s Cherry-Chocolate Cordials - handmade and full of chewy chocolatety goodness, but a box could get you legitimately drunk if you binged on them (a distinct possibility at times, depending on your mood), as the “cordial” containing the cherry within the chocolate shell was a particularly potent type of kirsch. The first time I experienced a genuine technicolor yawn was courtesy of half a box of Miss Mabel’s and an order of Oysters Rockefeller. Served me right, frankly.

 

“Chocolate is a bad business,” Sebastian declared, which struck me as funny because - well - as an incubus who indulged in various vices I didn’t believe he could pass judgment on anything. “Didn’t anyone tell you it’s one of the only substances which affects us?”

 

I felt suddenly over my limit. I knew this because a craving for a Lucky Dog hit me so hard, and you had to be drunk to eat one of those.

 

“So hey, how does that work?” I asked him, gesturing with that combination of lively animation and serious intensity characteristic of intoxication. “Like, just chocolate, or chocolate and sex, or chocolate and -”

 

“ - booze.” he concluded. “Just don’t drink too much.”

 

“What is too much?” I wanted to know, watching her drink her beer and like everything she did it was in a way which made me want to buy her two more.

 

“I’ll let you know when I’ve figured it out,” he said, turning his attention to a girl at the bar who flashed her tits at him. He grinned and made his way over.

 

“She doesn’t even know -” the other murmured.

 

“So can I call you Cherry? You look like a Cherry.”

 

The damned dame flipped her hair and licked her lips.

 

“Call me whatever you will. But does this mean I can’t eat chocolate?”

 

“You know what? Have you ever had a hot dog?”

 

She frowned an adorable frown. “Is it better than chocolate?”

 

I shrugged. “It’s all a matter of opinion but...I would love the see the reaction of the Lucky Dog guy to watch you eat one. I bet he won’t even charge us!”

 

Hey, we like our cheap thrills here in the Quarter, you know?

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