The man had a love of plants. He would always post pictures of his beauties (as he called them) online and videos detailing their care, species, and other information. I dubbed him the Handsome Gardener, but just Handsome when we spoke. He grew herbs indoors as well, eating one of the leaves in a video “because nothing goes to waste in my home.”
I commented with a cheeky “Eat it up!”
And to that he wrote “I love to eat everything organic and fresh.”
This had been going on for some time now, the cute comments and texting here and there. We hinted at meeting up somewhere, but never laid down concrete plans. He was incredibly sweet, calling me names such as Empress, and Goddess. A text message from him never failed to make me smile, and even the comments he would leave for me online would brighten up a rough day.
I posted a photo online of a chicken recipe I planned on making for dinner that night. “All I need is fresh basil and rosemary and I can begin!” My phone lit up and buzzed; a new comment already! But this was a text message from him, my Handsome Gardner:
Hey! I grow those herbs here at my house. You can come here and pick them up if you like.
I was already dressed and ready to go to a market that sold those items. However, it was located about 45 minutes away from my home via public transportation, and this would be a great time, if one of the few that I could hang out with this handsome man.
Sure! That would be great! Give me the address and I’ll take a cab.
He was downstairs in front of my apartment building in less than ten minutes. It took us twice that time to get to his home, so I wondered if he had rushed over to me. The thought alone, of his possible excitement to see me, made me shiver while we walked through the entrance of his home.
It smelled like a day in woods when I was 10, where I would go fishing with my parents. The smell calmed me immediately, while flashes of squirming fish, the smoke of a fire, and the polyester blend of a tent so thin, I could see the stars twinkling through flooded my mind. We were still only in the living area. He motioned for me to continue following, and we past the kitchen, a mudroom, and finally found our way outside, a few squares of concrete separating us from the back yard. But it was unlike anything I had ever seen before in my life.
I am accustomed to a green lawn with a few chairs, a table, and maybe a pool. But this was an island within the island. From small potted plants, bright neon flora, and even an apple tree perfectly centered at the far end of his inner city oasis. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the tree, even though there were no apples in it. I felt fingers touch mine, and he softly raised my hand and place a newly plucked flower in it.
“Hellebores, commonly called a Winter Rose,” he said with a smile. Oh my, what a beautiful smile he has…
I slowly raised my head and was surprised to lock into his eyes. He took the flower and kissed it, sliding into my hair.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered, and my words of appreciation came out in girlish giggle. My smile caused me to blush again and I looked away, but his finger caught my chin and redirected my face back into the path of his gaze. He swiped a curl away from my eyes like setting aside a vine, and lifted my face unto his. Our lips met and did their dance under the apple tree lit by the sun and I felt like I was taken away from the world that I knew. Somewhere in the distance there was a ringing. The phone shook us out of our enchantment and he ran to answer it leaving me with a breathless “I’ll be right back” to hold onto.
I began to think about what he might be on the phone talking about. I know he was a very busy and man and taking care of these plants are a job within itself. I hope he doesn’t have to go…
I looked above me, the sun bobbing past the leaves into my eyes. The air, the sun, the trees, and the smell of the winter rose flowing through my body like poison. I lifted my hands in the air and caught the rays of the sun on my fingertips, the soft breeze caressing a section of my exposed stomach. My skin prickled in appreciation, and I instinctively removed all my clothing save for my cotton panties, the rest falling like leaves to a heap at one side, and allowed myself once more to salute the sun and earth with my hands stretched upright.
The air was cold, but it’s been much colder than this. Still, my nipples hardened and greeted the wind. It swept between my legs, and bristled the teeniest of hairs reaching the surface. I leaned against the barren tree, unbothered by the coarseness of the bark. I began to sway with the whooshing wind and brushing against the tree, and soon I resembled a flesh colored lizard, every inch of me covered in bumps, every part of me reaching for the winter air. I turned and let my nipples grace the tree, embracing it like a lover. I had forgotten about the handsome owner of this yard and merely enjoyed the silence of the cold winter air circling around me. His hand felt like an extension of the air, cold and hard, the back of his hand so cold it felt like steel, and traced the curve of my spine. Reaching the end, I shuddered and tipped my bottom up and stood on my toes.
“Keep your eyes closed, Goddess.” His hands became the wind and ran circles across my skin, ensnared itself into the roots of my hair and pulled, allowing him to easily kiss my neck. I went to reach back, to touch him, but he took my hand and slowly turned me around, whispering once again, “Keep your eyes closed…” and his voice made the heat rise in my cheeks. He took both my hands and placed them on his shoulders. I couldn’t help but place my own hands behind his neck and entangle my own fingers in his fine hair, pulling him in and kissing him hard. He grabbed my hands, firmly this time, and in a deeper tone, said
“Please, my sweet…” and softly kissed my earlobe. He proceeded to kiss me, trailing lower and lower, and his hands following in its trace, and seeking refuge upon my perked nipples. I felt his breath under my navel and my heart beat faster. He nudged his chin between my thighs and kissed me some more. His tongue parted my lips, his hands reached under and behind me, lifting my legs onto his shoulders, and he feasted. He held me firm and balanced, my hands reached out to clutch onto the branches above me. Snow, fresh from a quick flurry this morning, sprinkled down like feathers, and melted upon contact.
The first orgasm rolled on his sweet tongue and still he continued, my body spasming against his face pressed tightly between me. I kept my eyes closed but my screams I could not contain and I begged to be fucked, I needed it. It was a request that went unanswered and there he remained. He moved my buttocks up and down, grinding my body against his face until I took up the motion. He pressed harder and onto my second orgasm. He stood up from his crouching position, turned me around and took my place with his back to the tree, folding me into his arms and cradling me as the tree cradled us. He removed his coat and covered me in it, and we sat beneath the apple tree, my legs simmering down to a quiver. He found my flower, and put it in its former place, his finger lingering on an adherent curl.
“My winter Goddess…”