Six lilies

I feel silky flower petals gliding up my spine, then softness against my wrist, my palm. The blooms make the return trip, up to my shoulder, my neck, and down my left arm, goosebumps trailing in their wake.

She places the flower in the vase on my bedside table. One in the vase. Five remain.

---

The doorbell rings shortly after I get home. I'm padding around in socks, looking forward to leftovers and Netflix.

She stands on my porch in the rain. "Gwen," I say. "I wasn't expecting you."

Gwen gives me that look, the one that melts me. Her lips curve in a knowing smile. She's carrying a small bouquet. Calla lilies.

"Are you going to invite me in?"

I like flowers - what girl doesn't? - but I know better than to take a bouquet from Gwen at face value. Why lilies? I know her too well to think she chose them for their fragrance. They're symbols. Puzzle pieces.

I'm overthinking this, I know. But I know Gwen too. There's more to this bouquet than flowers. I eye her warily, waiting for the other shoe to drop. With Gwen there's always a second shoe.

---

The second lily starts at my neck and trails down my spine. She maneuvers it over the cleft of my ass. I rise to meet the sensation, but she pulls the flower away.

Once I’m still, she begins again at the top of my spine and runs the circuit along the cleft of my ass, then back and forth where each cheek meets a thigh.

The second flower joins the first in the vase.

---

I step back, shaking horticultural thoughts aside. "Of course. Come in, Gwen." She turns sideways to edge past me into the living room, pressing a kiss onto my forehead as she passes.

"Are those for me?" I ask. I wince at my attempt to sound coy. I'm pretty sure she didn't bring flowers for the cat.

"I, um...I've got plans after dinner," Gwen says. "I'm going to need them then. Have you got a vase?"

She walks into the kitchen without waiting for my reply, selecting a vase from the cupboard over the sink. Now I am the one who is speechless.

That's the second shoe, I guess. The flowers aren't for me.

I know she sees other women. It even turns me on a little, knowing that she is sought after, that the woman I love is appreciated and desired by others. It makes her hotter.

But she's put flowers for another woman into my vase on my kitchen counter. They'll sit there while we have dinner, and then she'll scoop them up and go to her.

My traitorous clit throbs as I feel myself sliding smoothly into my subby place in her life. She is usually so kind, and then out of nowhere she reminds me that she is dominant and I am submissive. It always surprises me. And it always turns me on.

"Our table will be ready in 20 minutes," Gwen says. "Put on the black dress, won't you?"

I bite my lip and do as I'm told. My black halter dress, the pearls she gave me, and black thigh-high stockings.

I step into my heels and let Gwen lead me to her car.

---

She runs the lily down the outside of my thigh, the soft petals lightly caressing me in an erotic massage of feather touches.

Now she's running the flower down my other thigh, carefully giving both sides of my body identical treatment.

She has been running flowers over my skin for what seems like hours now. I’m sure she has noticed my arousal, especially now that she's dragging the flower up the inside of my thighs. But she stops just short of paradise.

---

It is a short drive to the restaurant. I try to match Gwen's mood. I tell her about the work projects that have required so much of my time. Maybe that’s why she's made other plans for later.

Before I know it we’re at the restaurant. I smile as she opens my door and hands her keys to the valet.

The maître d' escorts us to our table. He starts to pull out my chair but Gwen stops him with a look. She tucks me into the table and drops a quick kiss onto my shoulder.

Gwen tells me I look beautiful and takes a seat beside me rather than across from me. The staff scrambles to move her place setting. She pays no attention. Her eyes are on me.

I don't really notice them either because Gwen's hand is on my thigh. Her fingers dance along the edge of my stocking before tracing their way up the garter. She raises one eyebrow. I drop my gaze to the table.

"I’m going to enjoy seeing these later," Gwen says. She snaps the garter against my leg and I gasp. "Right before I watch them hit the floor."

"I thought you had plans for later," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Oh I do, I do, sweet slut," she says. "You'll see."

My mouth drops open as the waiter arrives.

---

The lily glides gently against my neck. I writhe just a bit when Gwen dips it into the hollow of my throat and then traces the length of my collarbone.

When I’m still she begins again, tracing one shoulder, down my arm, then back up. She circles one breast and then the other, carefully avoiding my nipples. The scent of my eager wet pussy mingles with the fragrance of the flowers.

Lily number four joins the collection in the vase. My body tingles as she picks up number five.

---

We’re drinking coffee and sharing a crème brulee after a memorable meal. I slide the spoon between Gwen's teeth and find my mouth watering as I watch her lips close around it. She teased me all through dinner and I’m ready to go home. But she said she wanted to talk first.

"Why calla lilies?" I ask. "They’re about endings. Funerals. Isn't that a bad omen?"

"They’re about beginnings, too. Change. That’s why brides carry them." She sips her coffee.

"Brides carry them as symbols of purity and chastity," I say. "But you were fingering me under the table as you ordered dessert."

"They also represent lust," she says. My thighs clench. Gwen's thirst for knowledge is insatiable. It's my second-favorite among her thirsts.

---

Five is my new favorite number. That’s the number of lilies we had to go through before she finally paid attention to my erogenous zones.

Gwen's teasing has left me wet and engorged and trembling.

Now she's stroking the lily against my breasts, first one and then the other, paying careful attention to the underside. She knows I’m sensitive there. She runs the blossom around my nipples. She glides it across my stiff peaks and I arch my back.

Then I feel the flower running down my rib cage, across my tummy to tease my belly button. My skin is electrified. I want more. I need more.

I hear her place lily number five into the vase. If I’ve counted correctly, there is just one more lily on the pillow.

---

"You work so hard," Gwen says. "Tonight we're going to quiet your mind, let you inhabit your body fully. Tonight is all about you."

"Quiet my mind? With flowers? I was sort of hoping..." I fall silent as the waiter returns with our bill. He turns away with Gwen's credit card.

"Once we leave here, I’m not going to touch you for the rest of the night. And no speaking. Not you and not me. Not a word."

She can’t be serious. Not with the pool of liquid deliciousness she stirred up between my legs. I open my mouth to protest but she places a finger on my lips.

"Do you trust me?"

I nod slowly.

"Good girl," she says. "Once we leave the restaurant, no more speaking."

Gwen takes my hand and guides me out of the restaurant. She drops my hand at the threshold. A pointed look tells me she is serious about this. I follow her silently.

---

I thought lily number five was the best, but I was wrong. I just hadn’t met beautiful number six yet. It moves from hip to hip, scaling rounded hills and dipping into valleys. Gwen dances the flower back and forth across my lower abdomen, then up and down my legs.

As it approaches my center, it is all I can do not cry out, spread my legs, and beg for Gwen's touch where my pussy is weeping for attention.

I hear the lily join its friends in the vase. What? No! That's the last one. We can't be done. No. Please.

---

We walk into the house and Gwen points me toward the bedroom. I walk down the hall alone. I enter my room and sit at the foot of the bed.

She comes in with the flowers, setting the vase on the bedside table along with two bottles of water. She steps into the bathroom, returning with a towel which she places on one of the pillows. She removes the flowers from the vase and spreads them carefully on the towel.

She indicates with gestures that she wants me to stand and undress.

I strip slowly, undoing the clasp behind my neck and allowing the dress to puddle around my feet on the floor. My bra and thong soon join it. I stand at the end of the bed in stockings, garter belt, and heels.

Gwen holds up her hand, palm facing me, and I stop undressing. She twirls her finger, indicating she wants me to turn around. I do a slow spin, watching over my shoulder to see her reaction. I do believe she likes what she sees. I finish my turn and she uses gestures to let me know that she wants me to continue stripping.

Now I stand naked before her. She waves her hand at the bed, inviting me to sit down. I scoot up to sit beside the flowers as she draws a black silk handkerchief from her pocket.

She uses gestures to guide me into reclining position on my tummy. And then she ties the handkerchief around my face - a blindfold.

---

Gwen pulls the blindfold off and I blink against the room's dim light. She raises a water bottle to my lips and I gulp greedily. She catches a stray drop on my chin with her fingertip and I gasp at the contact. She told me she wasn't going to touch me tonight. She sees the question in my eyes.

"It’s midnight," she says. "Technically, it's tomorrow."

She kisses me full on the mouth, a long, slow, lingering kiss.

"Shall we continue? If you say yes you have to be mine. Only mine."

"Yes."

We begin again. Without the flowers.

-----

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