The 1950’s, an era of luscious suburban housewives, each striving to please her man as the ideal of femininity and beauty: the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect woman. This was also a time when a woman's appetite for sex was strictly taboo. Beautiful, even glamorous, yet sexually repressed, Helen shares her steamy confession, revealing her secret desires, her most illicit fantasies, and how far she dared go in breaking every taboo to satisfy her craving for passion. Helen’s confession is even more erotic in that she knows what she truly longs for is to savor the taste of forbidden fruit. Tabu is a story of one woman risking all to fulfill her most lustful fantasies. As Helen indulges her curiosity about men and sex, she strips the 1950s bare of its wholesome Leave It to Beaver veneer, and reveals the true sensuality and sinfulness, which lay hidden beneath the false façade of polite, suburban society. The essence, as well as the aroma of Tabu is every bit as sultry and steamy as the Tabu perfume she wore ... especially ... when her perfume was the only thing she wore.
"That perfume you're wearing.” He focused upon her as he once again sniffed the air. “It's Tabu, isn't it?"
For just a moment she misunderstood, thinking he'd said, 'taboo' as if there was something forbidden about her fragrance. Yet he was right, she was wearing Tabu.
She’d only just met Cary less than an hour ago, when her husband brought him home for dinner after their business meeting. Yet his eyes were so deep, so intense as he showed her his smile once again.
When she didn’t answer, he peered at her until she dropped her gaze from his. "I don't know if it's your perfume, or if it's your own natural womanly fragrance, but I think I must warn you … I fear I might be becoming quite enchanted."
Her heart was fluttering. She knew what polite decorum said she should do, but at the same she had no experience with such things. This situation had so suddenly come upon her as if from out of nowhere. She didn’t think having him compliment her on her choice of perfume was being truly flirtatious; certainly he wasn’t making a pass at her, at least as far as she could tell. Yet there was no denying being alone with Cary in the kitchen wasn't anything at all like a normal social situation. Having a handsome younger man standing so close, while she worked at blotting the spilled coffee from his shirt wasn’t technically taboo. After all, it was her duty as a housewife to help her husband’s guest in any way she could. Yet the way Cary looked at her as he gave her that compliment only a moment ago, she felt a strange stirring, a suspicion if you will that they might be teetering on the verge of what could be deemed an impropriety.
Not saying a word as she dabbed at the stain on his shirt, a peculiar thought came to her. What if? What if right now I was to move slightly forward towards him? What would I see if I dared look up into his eyes at moment his fingers holding out his shirt brushed up into contact with my breasts? Surely, he would quickly back away? Then we could both pretend the contact had been only an accident. Yet what if he didn't back away? What then? When they both felt his fingers press into the front of her dress, there could be no escaping the reality of the contact. Then what? What if she was then to close her eyes and offer up her lips?
With all this insanity racing in her mind, she stood stock still. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and she held her breath as he brought his face toward hers. Stopping close up with his lips only inches away from hers he breathed in deeply, then exhaled, offering, "it's not your perfume, it’s most definitely you."
This book was added to our catalog on Sunday 22 October, 2017.