June Flowers

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Nis 3, 2021 // By:analsex // No Comment

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“Let’s pick some flowers,” he said, “for the table at dinner and the bedroom later.”

The old timeline of April showers bringing May flowers had been pushed back this year, probably climate change, he thought. It was May showers that brought June flowers. Everywhere.

He grabbed the pruning shears, took her hand, and they browsed the garden, gathering masses of blooms. White hydrangea. Blue hydrangea. White hydrangea flecked with blue. Some red zinnia. The first brilliantly yellow sunflowers of the season. A huge maroon lily, a dark star. A few large leaves, spotted with yellow, for background. A giant white calla lily, the yellow pistil erect in the middle, yes, like a cock in a pristine pussy.

Three fragrant, red roses. “Be careful of the thorns,” he told her. “They’re so beautiful. I love the scent. But there’s always the chance of being pricked.” He chuckled a little, just enough to make her uncomfortable.

Once inside, he arranged the flowers in four vases, working with her, the roses in one by themselves. That was unusual. She paused, but didn’t say anything.

Dinner was light for the heat of the day by the light of candles on the screen porch, the ceiling fan lazily offering relief, something out of a more formal past.

His looks throughout were unnerving. She knew those cocked-head, half-smiles. She knew they meant he’d formed a plan and was enjoying the anticipation. She knew that below the table he was hard, straining against his pants, putting off taking her fast and hard.

His desire made her imagine. His his control and his patience only turned up the heat as they shared bite after bite. By their after-dinner drink, her nipples were hard and she could feel the dampness in her panties.

Thankfully, he didn’t make her wait.

Sit here, he said, I’ll call for you when I’m ready.

She sat on the porch, the fan creaking overhead, a light breeze picking up after sunset, the candles czech amateurs porno flickering, alone with her thoughts. He took charge. Always. She wanted it that way. She’d come to trust him. She’d tried things with him she’d only imagined, things she’d fantasized about for years, but never had the courage to explore. Now, she did. They did. Again and again.

An entire universe of experiences opened for her.

Submission. Bondage. Spanking. Biting. Exhibitionism. Public sex. Toys, all sorts of toys.

Minutes passed. He did love anticipation.

Then he appeared in the doorway, offering his hand.

She took it. He slid a hand into the dark hair that curled atop her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her long and hard. So hard. The beginning ritual.

When they reached the bedroom, he opened the door for her, ever the gentleman (who was not always gentle). What she saw were candles, so many candles, flames flickering, casting shadows. So romantic. And flowers. Even more than they’d gathered.

She took a breath.

What could he have in mind?

He escorted her into the room, stood her in the middle, and kissed her again. On the lips and then in his favorite spot along her nape.

Then he stripped her from the top down. White shirt. Bra. Skirt. Panties. She loved that he knelt as he removed her panties and always teased his tongue on her smooth pussy.

He led her to the bed, the one with soft, cool ivory linens, and laid her down on her back.

He slipped in beside her and his tongue began a long, seductive dance over her body from her chin to her collarbone to her nipples to the inside of her thighs and then to her pussy and back up to her lips.

He paused, rose up over her, and took first one wrist and then the other and raised her hands so they rested on the bed above her head. She was open, exposed, so submissive in the ways czech bitch porno she’d been so many times before.

But this time he was softer, so much softer, but ever completely in control.

“First, the hydrangea,” he growled softly in her ear.

He took a stem and began running the bloom over her body, teasing her with the lightest touch of the petals. She’d been waiting so long, she arched with desire.

The hydrangea blossom explored her smooth, white skin, sliding over not just her nipples and pussy, but along her side.

Then it was a red zinnia. This time, he occasionally bent down to take a breast in his mouth, swirl around his tongue. Briefly, his finger slid inside her thigh and hovered over her clit.

So controlling. So patient. She wanted to ask for more. She wanted to beg. She knew better.

He slipped a hand under her hip and turned her over. Again, his tongue traced a path from the soft spot behind her knee up over her ass – just a hint of the teeth she craved there – and along her spine to her nape, where he kissed her slowly, but hard, grinding.

“The calla lily,” he said. Again, her wrists were pulled above her head, hands resting on the other side of the pillow, her head turned to the side, her eyes closed, taking in every sensation.

He traced the lily with its white bloom over her shoulder, curving across her back, and then down over each cheek. Then back up again. With his free hand, he reached under roughly and fingered her now sopping pussy. She moaned. She groaned. She raised her hips, hoping he’d fuck her fast and furious right there.

But he only continued with the petals of the lily over her skin. Seconds turned to long minutes.

He put the flower aside and rained kisses on her body, up and down. She squirmed. He took a firm hand and held her down.

“Now, ” he said, “the rose.”

She could feel him pad over czech casting porno to the vase with the roses. A pause.

She felt him lift the thick hair on her nape. He traced the icy rose from there down between her shoulders. He pulled her tighter to him, the flower, as shocking cold as any whip, followed her spine and traced the soft curve of her right cheek then slid up and over to the other side. A thorn raked the soft skin of her ass. He stopped, bent down and sucked away a drop of blood.

He pulled the rose back, iced it again, and this time started on her side, following her rib cage down the angle of her hip to her thigh. Then he traced the rose up the other side, bending over to bite first one nipple then the other as he did. She knew to not move, to not even shift her weight. He ran it down to her triangle, along the thin line emphasizing her lips. Then he stopped.

She realized the symbolism of the roses. How many times over the years had men impressed by her stunning looks favored her with a dozen? How many times had she relied not on her intellect, her wit, her imagination, but the genetic wheel of fortune that had given her a lusty body?

Yes, he loved her body. He controlled her body.

But it was her mind, her adventurous soul, her willingness to explore, her desire to learn, that made her so attractive to him.

She was on fire. He’d played slow with her before. But nothing like this. Hours had passed. She’d been on edge from the beginning.

He slapped her ass with the icy rose. Once. Twice. Three times. She flinched.

He kissed her ass. Both cheeks. Then his hand slid under her hip and he turned her around to face him.

He slid between her legs, hovering over her. He kissed her on the mouth. Hard. Soft. Long.

When he pulled his tongue out, he whispered in her ear “Put your arms around me.”

She wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him closer.

“Mine,” he said. “Good girl. “

He slid his hands under her knees and raised them up. In the flickering light of the candles, he looked deep into her blue eyes. No words.

His eyes never wavered.

His cock slid into her, making love to her.

Slowly. Deeply.

Taking her to a place she’d never been.

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