The Gardener

Warning - if you're looking for burning bitches, willing cuckolds, consensual swinging, wife-sharing or detailed sex scenes, you're wasting your time with this story. Like with my other stories. And sorry - I'm a German and writing in a foreign language might cause some grammar errors.

I love plants. Flowers, trees, bushes. All of them. I really enjoy working on them. Smelling them. Feeling their different textures. Taking care of them. I'm a gardener and it's the job of my dreams. It doesn't pay very well, but I enjoy it. I enjoy working outside. I enjoy the manual labor. I enjoy my life. And that's what's important, isn't it?

But I also have a problem. One that most men probably envy me for. Because they don't know how it is. I'm a hunk. I'm 6'7" and built like the proverbial masonry restroom. No fat, all muscles. Due to my job I'm always nicely tanned. I have a handsome face and a nice smile. In short - women are attracted to me like catnip. Now why am I complaining?

Because if I was a lawyer, a doctor or an architect, I'd have the perfect life. Women would want to win me over for keeps. I would be considered a good catch. I would find the one woman that's right for me and she would cherish and respect me. But I'm only a low-paid gardener. I have no status in society. I'm a nobody. Women regard me as some kind of male bimbo. Good for sex, but no keeper. But I'm a one-woman man. I'd like to fall in love. Take care of one woman. Cook for her. Pamper her. Protect her. Raise our kids together.

All I have is the opportunity to fuck twenty women per day. And none of them would want to introduce me to their friends or family. At least none of those that are capable of keeping an interesting conversation. Despite my job I'm not dumb and I'm not interested in a dumb woman either. But the self-confident and intelligent women seem to regard me as some kind of disposable sex toy.

Today, my co-worker Juan is at home. His wife is expecting their first child. I'm happy for him and I have no problems to substitute for him. So today I'm working in the garden of this enormous mansion. I've never been here before. But the modern and stylish house is not what fascinates me. What strikes me are the roses. They're old and just magnificent. But they need some care, Juan has neglected them a little, as it seems. He probably had his baby on his mind. Lucky bastard. It's a hot day and I'm working with a bare upper body. I enjoy to feel the slight breeze and the warmth of the sun on my back.

While I'm totally lost in pruning the roses near the terrace, I hear a female voice behind me. A self-confident, assertive voice.

"...I don't give a fuck. I will give him four mill for it. He can take it or leave it. I also have Clarkson's offer... No way... Just tell him, okay?... Okay, bye."

I continue with the roses. I haven't even looked at her. She sounds a little bitchy, but that's not my problem. Some unlucky guy can put up with her. I have the gut feeling that this time it might be better to avoid any customer contact.

"Hey, gardener."

Okay, now I have to look at her. It would be rude to ignore her.

"Good morning," I reply. She's quite pretty. Not stunningly beautiful. But certainly very pretty. Very stylish, of course. That was to be expected in such a house.

"I haven't seen you before."

"Yes, I'm a substitute for Juan. His wife is expecting a baby."

"How touching." It's meant in a sarcastic way, but she smiles while she says it. "I definitely prefer you. You're eye candy. What's your name?"

"I'm Mark. And you're..."

She seems to be surprised about my boldness. But hey, I'm not her slave or something. If she wants my first name, why shouldn't I get her's?

"I'm Laura." She smiles now. Wow, she looks fascinating when she smiles. And, to my surprise, she even offers me her hand. Although mine are a little dirty. I take it and have to smile, too. Her hand feels tiny and fragile in mine. "You'd like to have a drink?" She alternates between staring at my face and my body all the time. I wish I had decided against dropping my shirt earlier. I feel like a brainless sex object again. I suppose this is how busty women feel when guys constantly stare at their tits. But maybe I'm getting over-sensitive in that matter. I should try to be more relaxed about it. It's just a compliment, isn't it? She has done nothing disrespecting so far.

"Yeah, sure. It's a hot day. Maybe a diet Coke?"

"Sure." She smiles and looks just marvelous. She looks towards the house, obviously unsure if she should call someone to serve the beverages or go herself. She decides to bring them personally and earns some points in my internal ranking this way.

Just as she hands me a nice and cold Coke with ice, a man storms onto the terrace, coming from inside the house. His face is distorted into a mask of hatred. Shit. I don't want to be involved in some domestic struggle.

"Four million? You bitch. I'll kill you." And - to my surprise - he doesn't seem to mean that in a metaphorical sense. He's actually wielding a knife. Everything happens very quickly now. He strikes out to stab her into the belly while I jump between them and catch his arm with my left hand. While doing it, he cuts my left arm slightly and obviously unintentionally. But, of course, I don't feel the pain now. I merely realize that it's happening. I immediately hit him in the face with my right arm. This catches him by surprise. I use my advantage by kneeing him into the nuts. He goes down immediately. I pin him onto the ground and call Laura. She's nowhere to be seen. Shit.

Well, it turns out that the guy's name is Andrew Martin and that he's got some damn good lawyers. He's running around as a free man while I'm rotting in my small prison cell, being charged with assault. He claims that I have attacked him with a knife. This Laura woman has disappeared without a trace and nobody can find her. Or at least nobody wants to tell me where she is. So I have to sit in this cell, being worried about my future. It could have been a nice day, smelling roses and enjoying life. But no - being idiotic - I had to mess with rich customers. Who immediately dropped their pawn after using him.

After three endless and miserable days my boss makes his contribution to the situation by telling me that I'm fired. Just great. Just fucking great. My lawyer tells me that I might get three to five years. It keeps getting better. At least I won't have to worry about my job any more in this case.

After six days my lawyer tells me that she has re-appeared and has testified in my favor. I'm being almost immediately released. It seems she has gone to Paris for some shopping. Just lovely. I hope the selfish bitch has enjoyed her time in Paris. I should have kept away from the female customers, like I usually do. These rich brats are no good for me.

Just as I'm leaving the prison door, a man in an expensive suit follows me.

"Mr. Philips?"

"Yes?"

"I'm Todd Browning, Ms. Stern's attorney."

"Okay."

"Ms. Stern wants to apologize. She has not taken into account that you might have been persecuted for what has happened. She wants to thank you sincerely. And she wants to express her gratitude with this."

He tries to hand me a cheque. I don't take it or even look at the sum.

"So how much is her life worth? She wants to further insult me? Let me sum this up. Even though I didn't know her, I've saved her life by endangering mine. She disappears without a thought about me and lets me rot in jail for six days, being terrified about my future. I lose my job because of this. And now she doesn't even have the decency to thank me personally? She sends her attorney to hand me some money? Sorry, I can't stand that much style."

I turn around and leave the stunned guy standing there.

Half an hour later, my boss calls.

"Mark, this firing thing was a misunderstanding. I hope you're not mad. You saved this lady's life, were wrongly accused and to top it off, I fire you. Sorry, man. You'll get a big raise, of course. And take a paid week off. You deserve it."

"Okay." I'm too weak to make some witty comment or resign. And I like my job anyway.

Two days later, I find an envelope on my doorstep. I'm invited to the Stern's residence for a formal dinner. Fuck you. Why should I bother to show up there in a suit? To play to her rules on her turf? Why should I dress up for her apology? No, I'm not that interested in meeting her.

On the next day my phone rings. I don't recognize the number.

"This is Mark."

"Hi, Laura here."

"Laura? Ah, yes. The lady that let me rot in hell for saving her life. I remember."

"Mark, I'm terribly sorry for that."

"Yeah, you're so sorry that you even let your attorney contact me with some money. Sorry, I can't compete with that much class."

"Mark, I know that I've been a selfish asshole. Please accept my invitation, though. I'd be really glad."

"So you think I'm interested in a formal dinner at your mansion? That doesn't sound like fun."

"She wrote formal dinner? Ah, my assistant got that wrong, I think."

"You have too many people around you messing things up, it seems."

"Maybe, yes. Hey, Mark. Just come over and have a nice time here. Come as you are. There will be no one else around. It will be a relaxed time for the two of us. I'll explain some things and apologize."

"Okay, but you don't dress up either, okay?"

"Okay, deal." She chuckles a little.

Well, maybe she's not THAT bad. We'll see...

So I'm standing at the front door of this huge house, feeling like a boy on his first date. I've even brought flowers. Although I feel a little silly about that. Hey, she's the one to apologize.

I expect the door to be opened by some kind of housemaid or butler. But it's Laura, dressed in a casual sweater. Boy, can she wear such stuff. Very nice.

"Laura, you look really hot in that sweater."

"Seriously? I haven't worn something like that for ages. Hi Mark, by the way. Please come in. My life saver. Wow, thanks for the flowers."

"Hi Laura." To my surprise, she hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. I have to bend down to allow for it. Afterward she leads me into an enormous living room with an equally enormous fireplace.

I try to choose a suitable seat. It's not that there are not enough available. There are just too many. This is absurd. Who needs six large sofas and three armchairs in a room the size of a small railway station?

I choose a sofa near the fireplace and she drops directly besides me, placing her delicate hand on my leg. I'm a little surprised. And I'm beginning to suspect that this is not just a simple thank-you invitation. Maybe it's a would-you-like-to-have-sex one. Well, let's see. Maybe that wouldn't be too bad. She's certainly very pretty. But I'm drawn towards her more than her looks alone could justify. I've beet hit on by many attractive women for all my adult life. Usually I'm not that interested any more. But this one has a certain appeal. And it's not about her money. I don't care about that.

"Mark, I really have to apologize. I was in panic. I was so afraid that he'd try again to kill me. He was so mad. Totally out of control. Suddenly my death was a possible outcome of this whole situation. And in Paris I felt safe. I spent some nice days there and was able to recover and calm down. While I let you rot in hell. I'm so ashamed of it. How can I ever make that up to you?" She sounds genuinely contrite, I have to give her that.

"Who is this guy and where is he now? Nobody wants to tell me. But this concerns my safety as much as yours."

"He's a former business partner. He's bankrupt now."

"Have you done this?"

"No. But he asked me to purchase the remainders of his business. And he had totally unrealistic ideas about the price. I think I did him a favor. But he didn't really appreciate it."

"Okay. Where is he now?"

"In jail. I think he won't be a problem in the future."

"Good."

"Mark. You saved my life. I know that I will always be in your debt because of it. And I kinda like this idea." She smiles wickedly now.

"So do I." And on a sudden impulse I just grab her and kiss her deeply on the mouth. Our tongues fight and we both know where this is heading.

"Yes!" she exclaims happily after we break the kiss. "I've hoped for it but I thought that I don't have a chance."

"A chance?"

"To get you."

I have to laugh. "Oh, you do. Come on, let's make sure you fully get your chance."

She laughs happily while she leads me to a bedroom. One of many, it seems. I need to ask her for a map in case I need to find a place to pee. Of course, it turns out that her bedroom has a separate bathroom. Which seems to be bigger than my whole apartment.

We lie in the enormous bed after an extended and very satisfying session of sex and I contemplate why everything in here has to be so big. Even for my body size it seems preposterous. What certainly isn't big is Laura. Her whole body looks very delicate, but absolutely appealing. And it doesn't stop her from being a very energetic and skillful lover. We have enjoyed each other's bodies a lot. And we seem to be a perfect match in bed. Changing from tender love-making and kissing to vigorous sex again and again. I think we're both very satisfied. I decide that I could get used to this woman.

Suddenly a guy storms into the bedroom. He's looking like some nondescript banker/accountant type. I stay relaxed in bed. I've been in this kind of situation before. This is not my fight. This time, Laura will have to bear responsibility for the way she treats the men surrounding her. I won't step in for her again.

"Who the fuck is this?" he yells.

"I'm Mark," I answer, smiling friendly.

"He's the gardener." Now, that hurt. My relaxed mood vanishes immediately. Not "my lover". Not "Mark". Just "the gardener". As if my job explains everything that anyone might need to know about me.

"You fuck the gardener? You've got to be kidding. That's low, even for you."

"Low? Why is it lower to fuck a gardener than a brain surgeon?" I ask, but they apparently choose to ignore my exceedingly witty comment.

"Brian, we've never been exclusive. And you've fucked that slut in Houston. So what are you complaining about?"

"So, I'm the male counterpart for some Houston slut? Just a toy? A distraction from Brian? I'm just the gardener? As if that explains everything that I am." I'm a little peeved. I get up and start to dress. Brian chooses to attack me right at the moment I'm getting into my trousers. But he's weak. Even as immobile as I currently am, I easily send him to the floor with a light punch.

"You guys are weirdos, sorry. You, Laura, let me rot in jail for saving you. And you, Brian, attack me for no apparent reason. And you both seem to have a questionable opinion about gardeners." Even Laura laughs at that last comment.

Weird, these rich guys...

Ten minutes later, my phone rings.

"This is Mark."

"Mark, Laura here. Mark, please come back. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to belittle you. I was just surprised by Brian storming in. I had forgotten that he still had a key. It was just the first thing that came into my mind. I don't want to lose you."

"What?"

"Mark, I think I love you. Please come back." Oh my.

"Okay."

She awaits me at the front door and leads me into the house.

"Mark, sorry again. I didn't mean to insult you. A gardener is a wonderful profession. My comment was thoughtless. You're mainly my lover. Not my gardener."

"I am?"

"You're what?"

"I'm your lover?"

"Well, if you'd like to have the position, it would be a no-brainer for me. You're by far the most beautiful man I've ever seen. And I already know that I love you. Not only because of your looks. Or because you saved my life. I'm fascinated. I can't turn my eyes away. I'm not sure if I can live without you."

"Wow. What a compliment. I'm equally fascinated by you. But Laura, I have to tell you something about me... I'm a gardener."

I manage to keep a serious expression and Laura starts laugh.

"No, seriously. I know that I'm attractive for some women. But most women also hold me in contempt for my job, my social status or my education. So I'm being seen as some kind of sex toy by many. The dumb, handsome guy to have fun with."

"Not with me. You'll be my equal partner if you want to. Or my lover. Whatever you want."

"Wow. That's quite... well... quick, isn't it?"

"Yes. Take your time to make up your mind. I already have. That's how I am. I'll be exclusive for you. You can spend as much time here as you want. Here is a key. Just stay whenever you want. No commitment from your side."

"Uh, wow. Thanks. Ready for a second round?"

"Yeees!" She smiles widely. Sweet. Do I love her? I don't know. Time will tell. And I'm going to take my time for sure. I like her a lot. But we're socially absolutely not compatible. And I've learned the consequences of that in the past. The hard way.

For a few weeks we lead a loose relationship. I enjoy the luxury of her house. She has a cook/housekeeper named Juanita. She cooks for me whatever I want, whenever I want. I appreciate it and I'm quite cordial with her. I enjoy the pool, the whirl, the gym. And most of all - I enjoy Laura. Her limitless enthusiasm when it comes to me. She's genuinely thankful for every minute I spend with her. For every look. For every word. It's sweet. She almost seems to worship me somehow.

Over the weeks our relationship changes. My feelings for her deepen while she manages to tone down her awestruck behavior a little. She still adores my body, but by and by our relationship gets on a more even keel. It feels good. And I really start to fall in love with her. She's charming, witty, intelligent. And so very pretty. I enjoy spending time with her. And I tell her that I'm exclusive for her, too. We decide to have ourselves tested for STD and to have bareback sex afterward. It's great and a new experience for me. I've never had sex without condoms before.

I'm rarely spending time in my apartment by now. Only when Laura is out of town on some business trip and I don't want to stay in her huge, empty house. Laura has been in my apartment only once. And as she's had a laughing fit when she saw it, I never took her there again. That hurt a little and she apologized profusely afterward.

"Laura, how do you see us? Are we a couple?"

"Well, of course. At least I hope so. Why?"

"Then why do I know none of your friends? And why don't you accompany me to mine? Are you ashamed of me?"

"N... no, Mark." She seems uncertain. Which unsettles me a little.

"Really?"

"I haven't thought about it, to be honest. Well, we'll change that immediately. Tomorrow I'll be at Pete's party. Come with me and you'll see all of my boring accountant friends. But don't be mad at me if you fall asleep. I've warned you."

"Fair enough." I laugh and I feel happy. Although I'm not looking forward to this party, I know that we need to do such stuff to become a real couple. We need to share every aspect of our lives. Hell, I don't even know her family. Or what she exactly earns her money with. But that will have to wait. First, the party...

She was right, the party is a little boring. I'm feeling quite uncomfortable in my sports jacket. But she women can't keep their eyes off me, so I assume that I don't look as ridiculous as I feel.

Her male friends are a weird bunch. Most of the time they are stiff like broomsticks. And from time to time they behave completely crazy and childish. They act like immature boys in some British boarding school. Most of them never seem to be relaxed of truly happy. They seem to be awfully constrained by conventions most of the time. I don't envy them.

I and some decent guy named Toby watch someone setting up an immature prank on one of his buddies. It includes a bucket of water and seems to be completely out of place on such an occasion. But he trips while he sets it up and it backfires on him. We both laugh.