A Million Petals
She has that kind of beauty that could drive a man to his knees, let alone a humble woman like me. I can't look directly at her without my heart racing. My eyes well with reverent tears in the presence of her beauty. Looking upon her is like walking under the magnificence of the Sistine Chapel with my head back in awe, taking in all its glory.
There are different kinds of beauty in the world. The physical attributes of attraction and the unseen light that shines from within. Very few women have both. She embodies that and so much more. She is living, breathing art. I'm so grateful that I am even alive, and she is alive in the same lifetime. This admiration I have for her is boundless. Not just eternal but sempiternal. Not just timeless, but universal and metaphysical.
A million petals happily scattered, as a million emotions flow through me. I hold my breath and hold out my hand for her to step forward. Every petal plucked is an honored sacrifice, that it may be worthy to touch her skin. For her bath, only the purest water may fill this tub, boiled then slightly cooled to her comfort. It can only be this way. Nothing less would suffice as a dedication to her presence.
I spent hours picking the most beautiful roses and took them inside. I took their thorns away so that I may hold them, grandly prepare them for their divine fate. They will be used to fill her heart with joy and her profound mind with peace, embodied in skin full of grace and perfection. Her eyes shine like stars. Her lips gently press in fullness. She is a goddess among women. And I am but her humble servant, fortunate enough to be in her gaze.
I stare in amazement for what seems like days. They are mere moments in time where eternity wills the Earth's movements. One single breath leading to another. One shallow and one deep, that I may remind myself to live long enough to endure this precious moment.
I have a single stem rose left in my hand which I give a gentle kiss. It's the longest of the bunch, the most lush and red with a hint of amber. The perfect semblance of an evening sun. I caress her hand with it and trail it up her arm. Slow and gentle do I go. No faster than a lustful trickle.
The petals linger at her glorious neck and trace the precise angles of her chin. As it reaches her lips, she kindly kisses it back. I gleam inside that displays through a crooked grin. My own lips part in lust as I trail the flower down her chest.
Her beautiful breasts emerge from the water, allowing me to slowly skate each glorious curve. I draw the patterns of eternity around her chest languidly, letting her feel each caress. Crossing and crisscrossing, the bud blooms across her nipples. Its very existence is at the will of her passion.
She licks her lips and raises more of her body for me to see. The submerged elegance of her shape in partial view, just enough to show her own blossom beneath. I slowly trail the wet rose down the path of her endowment. Each inch it touches is an answered prayer to my most seductive praise.
My bud meets her flower, and they kiss softly. I gently twist the stem like it were my tongue as I gaze into her eyes, letting the rose blush her skin. Her breath hitches slightly. Her hips begin to shiver. Her beautiful petals spread across the rose and coat it with her sweet nectar. The petals spread and scatter, adding to the collection of arrangements in her bath, just in time for her to reach the height of her culmination.
One petal from my stem endures the quake and softly pulses on her mound. I press it gently with my fingers and slowly massage her throbs until they pass. One last thrust disintegrates it into oblivion. She relaxes and sinks back down in the bath.
Just when I feel my nerves still, her hands hold my wrist in place. My brows raise in surprise at her gentle whisper.
“More,” she says as her eyes squint in decadence.
Just one word commands all my actions. Her beautiful legs spread comfortably, giving me room to reach her valley. She takes my fingers inside her as I thrust deep in her roots. I feel the source of her heat on the tips of my fingers as she traps them in a grip of lust.
Her pearl awakens at the palm of my hand. She moans softly as her chest heaves. Her eyes shut tight, as her channel hugs even tighter. My fingers slide and curve in motion to her pleasure, keeping close and never letting go.
Waves of roses splash over us both as her hands tremble over my arm, gripping at it as if she were to drown if she ever let go. I lean into every flicker, putting harder pressure to her base. A spark ignites amidst her thighs, shooting up her spine, and back down again to implode and flow inside her like liquid fire.
The goddess glows from head to toe. Her light shines upon me like the sun would illuminate the moon. I am blessed by her warmth, so much that I am full in my phase. A shadow no more but etched in the space of her constellation.
Note: All characters are fictional and pure artistic rendition. All models in photographs are over 18 and have given permission for use of content. I do not take commissions.
