The constant gardener - Sex Stories

The constant gardener

... barely made it, sweating on one knee in front of her. I had scrubbed my knee, I felt it. I would bleed if I stood up.

Putting her foot right in front of my face, she gave me a silent command, and I put the slipper back on. It was the first time I'd touched her smooth skin, and it was hot, like a penny in the sun. I almost imagined that I burned myself and let go as soon as possible, and regretted it instantly. Just an inch of skin and I wanted more.

"It's just an economic issue?" she said.

"Yes", I mumbled.

"We'd be sad to lose you. You've behaved yourself. Not well enough for a reference, mind you. I really can't say anything about your character."

My heart fell further. Her sandal dangled in my face. I looked past her legs and up her body to her thoughtful face, wondering what she would decide. For her, it was nothing. For me, it was my entire life.

"We have a guest house", she said. "There is a spare room connected to it, maybe you've seen it. Jeff keeps some tools in there."

I nodded, but didn't understand.

"What would you say if you could sleep there, for a time at least, until we've had a chance to look over our finances? Maybe, in a couple of months, we could raise your salary. No promises though."

"Really?" I said.

"Yes, of course. You've become something like family, almost, and the roses never looked lovelier. If you left us, I'd have to force you to tell me your secret."

She smiled when she said it, but she didn't seem to be ...

... joking, not from where I sat hunched forward. I started to get cramps. The instep of her foot sometimes came dangerously close to touching my face.

"Would you like that, if room and board was included?"

"Yes, Mrs. Donnovan!"

"You would stay then, and keep up the good work?"

"Absolutely! It's a dream job."

"Good."

She stood up, and I did the same, forgetting that I was bleeding. But she noticed immediately by the red spattering of drops falling too close to the edge of the pool. It looked dramatic on the white stone. Looking down at me, she took me by the hand, and leading me to the shade she told me to sit down on a table.

"Wait here", she said, and came back with a first-aid kit, with a big red cross on it. It looked well used. But she frowned when she opened it. "Damn", she said. "We're out of... never mind. I'll just have to... You sit still. This is an old trick."

"What..." I shock my entire length when I realized what she was going to do.

She went down on her knees, grasping my injured leg in both of her soft hands, massaging some blood back into them, making the wound flow some more. But she caught it. Oh, my God, she caught it by opening her mouth and licking it up with her soft, pink tongue, swiftly turning her mouth red. She licked my wound clean, swirling her tongue, making me wince. Her hands grasped me tightly. I could feel her nails digging in. When she was done, she kissed my scratch, and putting on a band-aid she stood up, lips and smiling ...