"Feel the soft petals against your skin," Tyler said. "Clear your head and don't think of
anything except the flower. Visualize it in your mind. See the deep blood red pigment of the rose. See it touching your body.

It was surprisingly erotic. It made Justin yearn for deeper physical contact. It was hard to lie still. He reached out and his hand found Tyler’s thigh.

“Keep your hands flat on the bed.” Tyler removed Justin’s hand from his leg. “Let me
touch you.”

Tyler gently ran the flower across Justin's chest, down his right arm, then down his left.
The flower traced each finger from the knuckle to its tip. Next, Tyler slowly glided it down the length of Justin’s legs, one at a time.
Neither one of them spoke. The only sound in the room was Justin's breath, deepening
with each caress of the silky rose against his bare skin. The flower found its way back to the center of his chest. It made small circles around his nipples, first clockwise, then counter clockwise. His nerve endings were standing on end. They were over sensitized and over stimulated. He was tingling all over. A sweet aroma filled his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose. It was the flower.

"That's it," Tyler whispered. "Let your senses experience the pleasures."
The rose traveled across the nape of Justin’s neck and traced the outline of his collarbone. It ran down his sternum and slowly outlined each one of his ribs. Normally it would have tickled, but this flower was magical. It was a wand filled with delight, bestowing joy and bliss co-mingled with rapture. All of his senses were heightened. They were alive. It was as if he was using them for the first time. He not only felt the flower, but he heard it, as it glided across his skin. The sweet scent of the rose got stronger, or lighter, depending upon its proximity to his nose. The flower
jumped to his ankle, floated over his calf and lingered on his thigh. It settled in the area where his thigh met his hip. It felt like a thousand tiny little fingers were igniting his flesh with sensations of grandeur. Then it was gone. It was no longer touching him. He yearned for it, and silently begged for its return. He lusted for the touch of a flower.

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