You make your way down the garden path,
And amongst the wood and brush you espy my flower.
With gentle fingers - you the petals do part
Then bury your face within - to partake
Of the sweet fragranced scented aroma.

The sweet frangrance of my flower
Causing every fibre of your being to become aroused
As you drink in the moments of this hour -
The perfume, the coloured hues, the brilliant design.

You allow your soft lips to sip
The nectar hidden within.
You trace the outline of the stamen
Ever so softly with your tongue - tainted
With the taste of nectar
From my beautiful flower.

You pry the petals open
And thrust your fingers into the main vortex
Threatening to tear the gentle soul
And senses of my flower apart.

From your throat come muted
Moans and groans of exquisite pleasure
As you continue to thrust your fingers
Until you climax in the centre
Of my exquiste flower.