On holiday, Jamie reserved three nights at a bed and breakfast which she’d heard good things about. Jamie checked in not too late in the afternoon, and her host, Mrs. Grayson, a somewhat plump, middle-aged woman in heels and an astonishingly short, black dress, led Jamie to her room. “Let me know if you need anything,” Mrs. Grayson said. “Dinner is at seven.”

Tired from her drive, Jamie set down her suitcase without unpacking and considered a nap. The room was a little warm, so she opened a window.

Next to the bed on the little dressing table stood a glass vase holding a pair of calla lilies. Jamie bent close and inhaled, remembering even as she did so that calla lilies had no scent. Too bad, Jamie thought. It’s kind of a flaw in an otherwise splendid flower. But then what if the scent were unappealing? She took another deep breath, almost a sigh, and lay down on the bed.

Jamie dozed for a minute, or it could have been an hour, but now awake, she took a deep breath, refreshed, but also aroused. Had I had an erotic dream, she wondered. She was unable to recall any dream, but there was something in the air—the scent of her own arousal. One hand went to her breast, the other to her sex. She found her nipple erect, her cunt wet. Her thumb caressed the nipple while her moistened finger fluttered the fattened bud of her clitoris. She was in no rush, but her orgasm had a mind of its own. Her body jerked as the climax took hold of her.

After a couple of minutes of recovery, Jamie got out of bed. A breeze fluttered through the window ruffling the petals of the pair of lilies. She fingered one of the petals, imparting a trace of her sex moisture. With a shock, the dream she’d had while napping came back to her: Mrs. Grayson caressing her nipple, first with her thumb, then with her tongue. And then fingering her clitoris, and then tonguing her there. No wonder I was aroused, Jamie thought.

She dressed for dinner and went down. As if waiting, Mrs. Grayson greeted her at the foot of the stairs. “It’s just the two of use tonight,” she said. “En fremu relencia.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Jamie confessed.

“It’s very special,” Mrs. Grayson said. She took Jamie’s hand and brought it to her lips. She smiled knowingly. A moment later when they kissed, Jamie could taste herself.

Then came the feast.