The Rose

"Come and see me baby" she coos to him. "I feel so pretty!".

"You are a vision my love", he breathes as he follows her to the bedroom.

Leaving the rose on the bed alongside of one of the towels, she turns away from him and slowly begins to crawl her way onto the bed. Pausing...she props her knees apart and arches her back. Her bottom rose up and allowed her vagina to come to his full view. His heart soars and his breath labours as he drinks in the luscious look of her shaved labia - showing through the purpose made opening in the garment.

Not wanting to keep all this good feeling to himself, Murray spots something out of the corner of his eye. To bring a pleasing fragrance to their activities, a bouquet of different flowers was in the room. He thought about how much she now looked like a beautiful flower down there. He thinks about how much the sensation of her freshly shaved skin is almost like the touch of a rose petal. Coaxing her onto her back, he gently places a towel over her eyes and instructs her not to peek. Taking hold of the rose, he waves the alluring blossom under his nose - drinking in the lovely scent. Insuring her legs are fully spread, he delicately touches her labia with the blossom's fragrant petals. Joan loudly pulls a breath into her body as he moves the petals over her freshly shaved skin. Now it is her turn to be unable to form words - again just small sounds and sharp gasps.

"What is that?" she half whispers as she pulls the towel from her eyes. And now Joan could see what it was that was producing this unbelievable sensation and was shocked.

"Honey that is the most incredible thing I have ever felt" she announces as he tickles and teases her fully shaved vagina with the deep red flower. Drawing and twisting the blossom against her delicate skin made her soar inside with pleasure. This was a delight she had never known or imagined even existed. Certainly erotic and sexual in nature, yet it was not a sensation that feeds an orgasm....but it struck a chord in her. So this was different...a sort of anomaly...a sensation that she was riding on a beautiful wave that never seemed to crest....nor did she want it to. It was then she knew - she would never see a rose the same way again. Seeing her in this state of luscious abandon, he moves the flower away, looks dead into her eyes, slowly leans forward, and places a small kiss on her engorged womanhood - taking notice of the scent left by the soft blossom. She can feel his hot breath on her skin as his lips touched her shaved labia. Joan is now in a place she never imagined and never wanted to leave.

Murray struggles to find words that will convey what he feels at this moment - but he has them. Joan strains to get her regular breathing back and can tell he is about to fill her heart with words of love that she adores so much.

Looking deeply into her eyes and giving her an appreciative smile, he begins...

"MA'AM YOU DROPPED YOUR BOOK?" She hears him loudly proclaim.

Looking at him in puzzlement, she asks, "Excuse me?"

"PARDON ME MA'AM BUT YOU DROPPED YOUR BOOK.", he says again loudly.

Joan looks into the face of the young man now trying to give her book back.

"Here you go ma'am you dropped your book".

Shaking her head back into the present, Joan thanks him, retrieves the paperback, and takes stock of her surroundings. She had fallen into the abyss of a delicious memory and the sensations of it filled her with a warmth and grace such as she had never imagined. And as she checks the time, she sees the group get up from the table and begin to put away their embossed notebooks. Seeing the golden rose for the last time, she knows that to them this is just a logo - but not to her.

Exiting the coffee house, Joan makes her way to the train station. Along the way, she cannot help but notice that there seemed to be roses everywhere. Flowers to buy...advertisements to entice and inspire...and in some cases...

Hearts to touch...