It’s a hot summer day and Beth is engaged in her favorite pastime—daydreaming about Grant, the college-aged young man whose cut her lawn every summer since her husband divorced her three years ago. He’s on a football scholarship with a quarterback’s lean limbs, tight abs and strong shoulders and Beth would love nothing better than to figure out how to get to know him better. She’s imagined a thousand scenarios. Can she bring herself to act on one before the summer ends?
He deftly broke off one of the blossoms and lifted it to Beth’s nose. Once again, the delightful stimulating scent infused her. “It’s beautiful,” she agreed.
Grant kissed her ear very tenderly. “No, you’re beautiful, but this is…” He broke off, looking for words. “These roses remind me of you. Feel how soft the petals are…”
He brushed the edge of the bloom ever so lightly against her lips. They were deliciously soft…soft, smooth and silky.
Grant slid half way around her body so that his embracing arm now centered on the small of her back. This left his right hand free to continue to caress her with the rose. The wispy petals kissed her cheek and made her blush with pleasure. He made her feel so beautiful, so desirable—and did it so easily.
He kept kissing her despite the proximity of the flower, gently exploring the contours of her throat with its petals and setting her skin on fire with each delicate stroke. As he did so, he leaned closer to her body as if studying the effect of the flower upon her skin. The feather-light touch of his hot breath tickled the top of her ear just before his lips did. His breathing began to grow deeper, mimicking her laboring lungs.
The rose caress dropped lower, finding the exposed flesh at the top of Beth’s chest, before he loosened the robe to let him tease her bare shoulder. He didn’t drop the robe and slip it down off her arms. He only exposed a few more inches of skin that the spaghetti straps of her nightgown could not cover.
Then he made the flower dip again, playfully abandoning her shoulders so he could tease the upper surface of her cleavage—the spot where her breasts first emerged from her chest forming a narrow valley between them.
Beth’s knees began to tremble, forcing her to put a hand on the counter to steady herself. Her heartbeat increased notably and the air began to grow ragged in her lungs.
Without appearing to notice her difficulty, Grant lifted the rose like a brush and painted some secret design on her cheeks, transforming her into a canvas only he could see. He spoke to her, low and husky, as if the magic he was performing on her body was having just as profound an effect on him. “I’d like to take you up to your bedroom now, Beth, but I need you to do something for me first. Would you like to help me?”