Never has my front door looked so lovely, so promisingly gratifying. What a damn day. I scuttle along as quickly as I can, noticing the flowers in both pots flanking my front door are drooping. Well fuck. Geez. Forgot to water them this morning before work. I burst through my front door, my nerves a frazzled web of knots caused by so many things: the busy day at work, forgetting to text my friend back, the world choking the calm out of me. I need some me time and I need it now.
I draw in a slow cleansing breath of cool, conditioned air. I’m blessed with an inkling of happiness. First steps are important.
Without even thinking, I drop my laptop bag on my coffee table next to this morning’s empty cup. My head is so packed with problems I might implode. Rumours at work about a reorganisation haunt me. By next month, I might be interviewing for a new job. I rake my fingers through my thick hair. Fuck-nuggets I’m dying for the buttery explosive bliss of orgasm release.
I take a step, trying not to run because my garden calls to me. It’s like a dream asking me to sleep, or sleep from the day’s stress that is. But, honestly, it’s more the opposite of sleep I will be gifted with in my orgasm garden. A name I took to calling it after first having some of the best self-pleasure orgasms of my adult life there where nothing exists but me.
As I walk past the sliding glass door, the pink and white blossoms beckon me. Their full petals swollen like labia lips, the pistol of the bloom the excited engorged clitoris. Pussies are as beautiful as flowers, juicy, soft, wet, fragrant. The green leaves are succulent and inviting. There is an elegance in the way they’ve all grown together, like someone knitted them all into a plush blanket, like a still life mingling of vegetation, confluent with aliveness.
I slip off my heels. Relief floods me as I work my toes into the plush carpet. My skin practically begs to be bared of my stockings. My breathing rate is already increasing as I start to unbutton my shirt, grazing my fingers along my chest down to my cleavage.
I shake my hair and smile. Self-seduction has begun.
My desire raged on the drive home, my libido thickening with each mile I drove. Like a wild beast, I had pounded my fists on the wheel as frustrated shrieks flew from my mouth. I was fucking horny! I couldn’t get through traffic fast enough. Every speck of me yearning for my own all-knowing pleasure-seeking touch. Thoughts of a full-blown orgasm, or twenty-five, danced in my brain like fat squishy cherubs ready to burst. The tease had been torturing me all the workday. Oh, the multitude of thoughts that had tormented the sexually hungry and demanding woman I am that I’ve crushed down to my toes all day long.
Well, no more. Soon I’m claiming ownership of my sexuality. It’s mine.
Memories of my best orgasms pull me along. My fantasies enchant reality making it swell with the promise of a good self-seduction fuck. It will happen, I know it, I feel it.
I open each button on my way down to baring my front top half to my waist. The fresh air bathes me as I draw in a deep invigorating breath, my head back, my chest rising then falling rhythmically. Nipples pulling tight and erect with the thoughts of climax saturating my wanton brain.
I pull my arms out of my sleeves and allow my shirt to fall to floor. Getting naked for myself is a luxurious ritual I love. My hands press the plush pillows of my generous bosom, my curves literally begging for my touch.
I meander my hands inside my bra. My areolas further gather my nipples into their mean peaks as I caress them. They practically blink red, open for business.
“Mmm,” I moan as I play with my erect nips. I need this. I deserve this. These next moments are mine and mine alone to sink into. A bath of my own endorphins is just what I need.
Oh, fuck yes.
I had planted my flower garden to the max on purpose in my back yard with the hopes of sitting on my lounge chair overlooking a sea of flowers. My plan worked beautifully. Early mornings, with the first rays of golden sun hitting the blooms, and my skin, I’d sit and read, listen to music. In the evenings, I’d unwind after a hard day of being used, abused, and unappreciated at work. One day, it struck me how amazing it would feel to orgasm while lying in my Lady Garden, as I’d come to call it as well. So, I carefully laid down, disregarding how I may be crushing the blooms, knowing they’d want to give, to sacrifice, to my sensuous feminine energy and help bring me to glorious heights of carnal self-delight. It worked so well, it’s become my favourite masturbation spot.
It calls me now, as it does almost every day, to frolic in its frills and fronds, each plant touching the next so it’s a quilted flower bed of lovely floral fragrance, moist soft petals, an aroma of earthy stems and leaves. It’s the perfect wafting of nature. Each curl of petal and each tendril of leaf to touch, hold and caress, helps me build the erotic sensuality that gifts me such powerful stress relieving happy endings. Plus, I love how its gentleness cups my ass cheeks.
I unhook my bra. The formed cups cling to my curves so I have to shimmy to get it off. My grin deepens as I allow my fuck me eyes to bloom, gratifyingly for no one but me. The bra still clings to my body, so I give a final shoulder shake. Watching my ample breasts fully jiggle free sets my mood to the erotic. Time to do it. My bra falls in a pale pink clump on the ground with a slight plop. How satisfying.
I arch my back which bursts my breasts out, becoming the highlight of my vision. I unzip the back of my skirt in one quick swoop.
It’s naked time.
I push the skirt down my svelte hips. Once past them, it drops to the floor quickly. I take a step so my labia lips part and the fresh exposure to the air invigorates my pussy. It’s a breath of fresh air and the imminent burgeoning of release. Being commando everyday is a special treat I indulge in, and it only serves to deliciously accentuate my nakedness.
I stroll seductively through my living room, licking my lips and closing my eyes slightly as I run my hands all over my taut flesh. I shudder as I savour my own hands travelling my arms, shoulders, and neck. The stress of the day begins to leave my body in a slow trickle. I draw in a very long breath and release it even slower. A cleansing exhalation that pulls stress from me like pulling pesky weeds from my garden.
I place my foot on the wrung of the bar stool in my kitchen and hook my fingers under the top of my stocking at my thigh. I slowly complete the yummy dance of stripping my leg of the nylon. Removing them is a comfort in itself, not to mention a turn on, even that slight pressure gets old by the end of the day. I place my other foot on the bar stool and finish the strip tease. Now I’m fully naked and ready for scandalously yummy fantasies to rock my clit into wet fireworks.
I step outside nude and draw in another slow methodical breath to capture the essence of nature, to share it with my insides for a moment, bringing the outside in me. It coats me in freedom, in earthy cradling, my libido opening wide to the sky ready to receive pleasure as a bloom receives nourishing sunshine. I drop my head back and release a blood soothing sigh. All of me floods this space in time because it’s all mine. I carefully lay down amongst the blooms, their fragility conforms to my body as if a waterbed. Their plant power making my head float in my premonition of what’s to come. I’m going to have some real fun.
My lust smoulders as I nuzzle against the lush petals, their intoxicating fragrance blessing my nose. The green leaves press their plushness against my flesh in their feathered and bulbed plumes as I rest my hands below my bosom. The excitement of masturbation grips me like a tendril. Getting in the moment is easy. Natural.
The vegetation brushes my skin with ease, as effortless as the caress of wind. I savour the depth of my breathing, the moistness of the flowers against my fingers. The organised wildness of my garden mirrors the ordered stages of an orgasm, wild and free, an ordered process that is natural and instinctual.
All my stress blows off me as if dust.
At first caress of my belly, I am gifted an infusion of pure enjoyment. I quiver with ever-increasing want. Dragging my fingers along my skin sends me fully into pleasure mode. I’m instantly reminded what a wonderland my body is. I caress the mound of my pussy, my stimulation building. I massage the lips of my feminine core taking in breaths and releasing them, plucking my way along to my impending goal with each draw in and expel of air. The journey to climax is as enjoyable as the end.
The oil I saturated my skin with after my workout shower earlier has left my skin so soft, I can’t get enough of traveling my fingertips along my torso, nor can I stop myself from pressing my fingers to my mound. Oh, the soaking velvet beatitude of my genitalia that will help me surrender to the satisfaction of my twitching core. I’m giddy with anticipation.
I rub both breasts with my hands, loving up on them. I squeeze and fondle my breasts, cupping and pleasing my own desire to touch myself. I gasp and sigh as my arms hug me as they treat my skin with pressing touches. I am utterly relaxed, yet enticingly aroused.
I love being a force of femininity, an empowered vulva owner.
I boldly press between the cleft of my mound. I gasp. The delicious surprise of the initial touchdown of finger to clit never ceases to amaze me. It’s as wonderful each time as if it’s the first. It’s not less than. Ever.
My pussy juices coat my finger as I rub and play with my clit and vulva. My breathing is ramping up. I press my lips together, open my mouth, lick my lips as I ready myself for all my hormones to send my body soaring.
It’s all about worshipping my clit, in certain moments imagining my lover pleasuring me selflessly and others focusing on myself alone, as I stroke my swelling flesh that is so packed with nerve endings I get to fly inside my own body.
What a perfect gift it is to be a woman.
I drag my moist fingers up my stomach. They have more fun to deliver across my nipples. I run my touch around the areola of my left breast which arouses me further. Groping my breasts my desire flares. Nipple stimulation tugs at my pussy and I want more. I don’t just crave it; I need it. I stimulate my nipples a bit more, but I can’t resist reaching for the golden pot that is my cunt. I grin devilishly at the dirty talk, cherishing my ownership of it.
With one hand on tit, I ride my nipple while my other hand works my cleft to unearth my precious wet bean, the gift at the head of my clitoris. My clit is properly thickening as I explore. This is going to be an epic play time.
My pussy deserves both hands. Ah the bliss of ten fingers alternating their perfect pressure on my groin is luscious. I press, rub, fondle, and anoint other parts of my cleft and vulva with the juices of my womanhood.
My breath catches as I swiftly ascend the hill to climax. It’s going to be a quick rise this time and big finish. I can feel it’s looming embrace, its consuming hands hugging my consciousness completely helping me seize the moment.
I will come soon.
I press my fingers into my folds and gasp loudly. It’s coming closer, that scrumptious gift of orgasm. I’m breathing heavier as my fingers slosh in my wet snatch. My pussy releases more fluid and I run my middle finger along my swelling clit to fuck it. My body twitches as I press two fingers inside my vagina. It’s an amazing feeling words can’t own. It’s heaven itself.
I aggressively finger fuck myself. I’m a good girl. I don’t stop. I hand ride my pussy, one hand caressing my clit, the other plunging it to please my insides, basting my G-spot in precious arousal fluids. I’m so wet and I’m using that wetness. This ride is mine. I’m my own pleasure Dom.
The squish sounds of my aroused loins add to my rise. I’m almost there at the top, where that explosive power will send me into relief inducing body shakes. All the day’s tension will be lifted away like the expelling of my used breath. I literally can’t wait.
I shove my fingers inside me, I molest my groin riding up that cloud nine hill. I teeter at edge and plunge into the sweet release of orgasm. My body jerks as my vagina contracts on repeat. Each convulsion of my vaginal muscles sends waves of endorphins throughout my body. The spasms are so strong they are almost painful, but only for a second. That gift of my vaginal muscles clenching is like no other feeling on Earth. I’m flying as my body twitches and undulates along the pure bliss of coming. It’s beyond heaven as the orgasm keeps going as if a plateau with pleasure peaks. It’s a state of mind only nature can provide. I smile through my sighs, cherishing each second on my orgasm trek.
Joy spreads across my face as I recall leaving my vibrator here yesterday. How smart was I, though I didn’t know it. I dig in the flowers for my favourite toy and pull it out. What a gift! Oh, this is going to be so good.
I switch on the button and the wand vibrates in my hand. I press it to my clitoris and shudder out a moan. Oh, so good.
I gasp as I gyrate my hips to feel as much of the vibration as I can. It’s the art of that right pressure at the right spot at the right speed and I’m off on my way to another orgasm. The play gets even better as I step into my favourite fantasy with that favourite person doing nasty yummy things to me.
I grasp and pinch my left nipple. Fuck that feels good! I groan as I play my sexual organs like an instrument. I whimper as I charge up my rise. My scenario plays in my head like a movie. Yes, do that to me. Please.
Oh, the sweet torture of an extended climb to climax, I edge myself by lifting off pressure of the toy, then reapplying it to the strength of my desire. This one will surely be even bigger. I drop my head back as I thrust the vibrating tool against myself. My body twitching as I get nearer the peak.
My panting increases. My body jerks with each press onward. I release a slight whine as my face falls into an expression of helplessness. It’s got me and it’s not letting me go. My moans increase as my vulnerability grows, my gasps fill in between. It’s coming and it’s gonna be big. It’s going to be epic. It will be stellar.
I give in to it.
My body jerks and convulses as the orgasm ravages me. My head falls back, my back arches, my feet raise off the flower bed. My fingers clench; my toes curl in the air. My eyelids close slightly and flicker. I’m rigid yet moving at once. I coast it for all it’s worth before the calming drift down envelopes me. I’m lost in it, yet found.
Big sigh.
I’m wiped out after that one, sleepy in the best sense possible.
I smile. It was an unforgettable one I will relish the memory of. The yumminess of it consumes me as I come down closer to baseline from the fulfilling high. But now the baseline is so much better than before. It’s a sweet surrender I soak in like a warm bath.
The ending of it all is just as perfect as the rise though filled with peace rather than urgency. I can’t resist revisiting my crotch once more. Then I raise my arms above my head and lay them back in the soft foliage.
We fit, these gorgeous plants and me.
The post-orgasm endorphins saturate all of me. I bask in it all. The air. The moment. The me time. The body throbbing.
The light breeze bathes my skin like perfect petals gently falling upon me. The ecstasy is real, and it completely fills me. Happiness is my paradise and I get all the glory. The high is intoxicating, and I own it. It’s all mine. I’m transported to my soul’s gloryland as I close my eyes. Another round of epic self-pleasure is just what I need. Let’s go again…
The End
Read all about the wonderful author: Ruan Willow
nice 🙂🙂👍
Nice Story..