The Rose
Warning: this story contains adult content, though it is not pornographic. if Y/you are offended easily or don't wish to read further, please click here.
she was alone in the house. it was midmorning, a lovely spring day, and she had been out in the garden working. most of the flowers were already in bloom, and the mild weather made it a joy to work outdoors. she had collected a variety of different blooms in her basket for arranging in various rooms of the house, including some deep burgandy, almost black roses for the bedroom.
after arranging the flowers and setting them out around the house, the onyx vase of roses prominently displayed on the bedroom dresser, she took her time in preparing for Him. she took a long, leisurely bath, and carefully lotioned every inch of her skin, so it would all be velvet to His touch. she combed through her curls with her hands, letting her hair dry in the warm spring air, falling about her shoulders.
dressing in a simple white satin chemise that fell just below her bottom, spaghetti strapped but with no obvious adornment, she laid herself softly on the bed for a brief nap. it had been a long morning, filled with chores and she was grateful for the brief respite.
drowsily, she shifted against the bed. she was lying on her stomach, and somewhere halfway between dreaming and waking. her eyes were closed, and she was only half aware of a delicate tickly sensation against the back of her thigh. as she shifted a little again, she heard a soft shhhhhh" from behind her. recognizing the gentle chuckle that followed as that of her Master, she remained still, letting herself drift on the wave of half-wakefullness.
the tickly soft sensation continued to her inner thigh, and slowly slid up between her parted legs. she murmured softly in pleasure, sighing into her pillow as she felt a soft brush against the lips of her sex. her thighs parted slightly more in response and she felt the bed shift a little, as though her Master had sat upon it behind her. she started to raise her head, to turn to look at Him, but heard the soft "shhhhhh" again, and instead, curled against her pillow and rocked her hips back slightly.
in response, she felt a gentle soft nudge against her lips and suddenly realized that the touch she felt was one of the roses from the vase on the dresser. she whimpered softly and pressed her hips back again, the light touch of the petals brushing against her skin raising a fire in her that their soft kiss could not answer. she moaned softly in desire, her thighs parting a bit more, and in response she felt His hands on her hips, pulling her up partly onto her knees, His hand reaching up to keep her shoulders pressed against the bed, her face against the pillow.
she could feel the satin sliding up along the underside of her breasts a little, each touch to her skin soft, not the aching, rough touches she was craving, but teasing her and gently floating her higher and higher into arousal, so slowly, so achingly slowly.
the rose continued to brush against her lips, making her moan softly and whimper into the pillow, her hips rocking softly back only to be stilled by a firm hand and a soft command to be still. she struggled to contain her movements, but the difficulty of it was evident in her slightly muffled moans and whimpers against the pillow.
she raised her head slightly as she felt His fingers gently part her nether lips. she was aching to press back against His hand but fought to remain still under His touch. then the rose brushed over her already aroused clit and she cried out in pleasure and need. He seemed not to notice the urgency in her voice, His movements remaining slow and deliberate. He simply continued tracing His rose with the rose from the garden, lightly brushing the petals over her as an artist would weild a paintbrush.
her eyes were closed tight, she buried her face in the pillow, struggling not to move as she sensations slowly built inside her. perhaps this light touch was enough... oh yes, if He just kept just like that... the light brushstrokes, the slow building.
as the movements ceased behind her, she groaned in despair. she felt Him part her cheeks, then, His hands warm and firm on the flesh of her bottom. gently He placed the rose there, and as He let go of her cheeks with His hands, she could feel the thorns pressing lightly against her flesh. if she moved at all, they would pierce her.
gently, she felt Him place a loving kiss against one round cheek, then He moved backwards and off the bed. she could feel His eyes examining her, raking over her flesh, and she heard Him speak aloud to Himself, almost as though she weren't there at all, "lovely, just lovely... My sweet silver rose, My art."
He moved forward to the head of the bed and smiled lovingly at her, then brushed a curl from her eyes and laid a soft kiss against her forehead, whispering, "I will return for You later. Be still My rose." He stepped from the room, leaving her aching, motionless on the bed, her Masters garden of His delight.