Flower Power
Part One
Every story has a beginning, so I guess I’d best start there with this one. I’ve lost track of exactly when it did start though, but a little background will help, I know it will. Roberta, well Bobbi to her friends, and I’m certainly one of those, met at university about ten years ago. We sort of hit it off pretty quickly. Both tall, well for women anyway, and slim, with shoulder-length dark hair. And our birthdays were just a week apart! We celebrated our nineteenth birthdays together soon after enrolment. I suppose if there was one noticeable difference, or two noticeable differences, actually, and that is our chests. She was certainly well-endowed, where I’d become comfortable with my own pert pair. But beyond the looks, we had similar interests. Both fit, both good enough to represent the uni at hockey. And men? Well, yes, the same taste in men as well. As I look back on us both leaving our teens whilst studying, I soon after that it was the only occasion we ever looked like our friendship was in jeopardy, and his name was Jeff. We agreed to agree that never again would we compete in that way. Neither of us ever found out which one of us he had first, but after him, never again.
We both left university qualified in law, and miraculously got taken on by respected law firms in the same city to train. And that was seven years ago, now. Keeping in touch as we would, I got to know Lance, who she’d been dating for more than three years now, but not so lucky for me. There was Martin just after I’d arrived, but on about a year the connection just, well, disconnected. No-one steady for me since then. Out of the proverbial blue one day during lunch, Bobbi mentioned her aunt Agatha, or Aggie as she called her. Just outside the City she apparently lived. Did I want to meet her she asked. Well, ok I’d thought, but only out of courtesy to a close friend did I agree. She said she’d see me at her aunt’s the following Friday after work, and gave me the address. I was going to forget about it until she texted me on the day asking me to confirm that I was going, so I did.
Taking a cab to the address, as I don’t possess a car, I was surprised how out of the way it was located. But well-presented it was. Quite large, actually. I tried to call Bobbi after the cab drove off, but there was no answer. I rang the doorbell, and was taken by surprise as the door opened immediately. A very mature, but also very smart woman was standing there. Shorter than me, as many women are, but perfectly coiffured silver hair, and expertly applied make-up. “Sienna?” She said, and I said “Yes.” “Good afternoon my dear. I’m Agatha. Or Aggie to my friends. Come on in. Bobbi told me you were coming. It’s so good that you have. We don’t get too many visitors now,” she said as she turned and began walking away from me. “Shall I,” I said, seeking confirmation that I should close the door as I started pushing it to close, and without any response closed it. I followed her. “No, not many visitors now, what with most of our friends ing this past couple of years or so,” she said, which had me wondering how old she might be. I put her at about sixty, but what she’d said suggested older. “Here we are dear. I call it the tearoom,” she said as she opened a door. I followed her in. “Is Bobbi….” I started to say when she said “Take a seat, dear,” gesturing towards a chair by a fireplace, so I sat, and she sat on the other side of the fire. I was going to ask about Bobbi again when I felt overwhelmed by a scent, a smell, I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but I couldn’t help but be aware of a large bunch of flowers in a vase right beside my face. It was, well, I’m not quite sure how to describe it. Musky was my first thought. Just as if they’d been rubbed in the old woman’s crotch, I laughed to myself, but then I thought better of it. What it did do, though, was make me a bit fuzzy-headed. Quite overpowering, actually. But the thing was, I started to breathe in through my nose harder, just to get more of the aroma into my nostrils. I was determined to work out what it was as I knew I’d smelt something like it before, but I just couldn’t place it. “Some tea, dear?” She asked, which sort of distracted me from my efforts to determine what this smell was. “I prefer coffee,” I responded, because I did. “Take some tea, dear,” she said. “Ok,” I said, not being sure why, as I really didn’t like tea. Out of courtesy, I guess. “I’ll be a few minutes, my dear. I’ll leave you in peace. Oh, and by the way, do you like the flowers? My husband produces those. Retired botanist of some renown, you know,” she said as she was leaving the room. “Yes. Yes, I do,” I said as I turned towards the vase and breathed in so heavily again through my nostrils. No, I decided. I can’t place it. But I had to it to myself that I was beginning to feel a bit high from breathing it in as I was.
I couldn’t tell how long she’d been gone, but her re-entering the room startled me a bit. I had leant over to the flowers and placed my nose almost inside the petals of one, and probably been breathing in for as long as she’d been gone. “Be careful, my dear. The stamen in those can be quite, how can I put it, arousing. Of the senses, I mean,” she warned me. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said as I pulled away. “Don’t worry, dear. You enjoy them as much as you can. That’s what they’re there for. Drink this,” she said as she handed me a bone China cup on a saucer. I took a sip. It wasn’t pleasant, but I drank it all quickly, in three or four mouthfuls. I feeling strange in just a few seconds. So much so that I leant in again to the flowers. “Go on, my dear. Take in as much as you can. How was the tea?” She asked. I turned towards her, about to answer. “It’s a little concoction of my own that is. Renowned in my own field of chemistry I once was,” she reminisced. “It was fine, thank you. In fact, I liked it a lot,” I said as I thought it polite to. I looked back at the flowers. “I’ll tell you what, would you like to take one home with you?” She asked. “Yes. Yes, please,” I said with a sense of excitement that happened to surprise me, but yes, I really did want to take a bunch of them home, but one would do. “Can’t spare more than one of those, but if you want one, then take it,” she said enthusiastically. “I will. Thank you so much,” I said with a big smile on my face. “More tea?” She asked. I didn’t usually take tea, but to my surprise the taste had lingered on the buds, so much so that I actually wanted more. “Yes, please,” I said, and handed her my empty cup. As she filled it, she started asking me about my family life; was I dating, was mother and father still alive, were there any siblings. It was no to all, actually. The question about mum and dad had me briefly reminisce, as I’d lost both of them a few months apart just a year earlier. They’d had me quite late in life, and I had found the loss of mum just before my twenty-eighth birthday almost devastating, but some bereavement counselling worked well with that. I finished the tea quickly, and between sips made sure to turn towards the flowers to take in more of that scent that was just so pleasant. And she was right; I did find it surprisingly arousing. There was a little small talk before she suddenly said “Now then, time to go,” which came as a bit of a surprise as I thought I’d only been there about thirty minutes until I looked at my watch and saw that it had been nearly two hours. And why I was actually there I’d forgotten until I was in the back of the cab on the way home. I wondered why Bobbi hadn’t been there but I couldn’t stop smelling the flower her aunt had given me, so focussed on that more than Bobbi. Breathing in as deep as I could, the musky smell was overpowering, and yes, it was still arousing my senses, just as she’d said. I was aware of the wetness between my legs too as I got out of the cab. As soon as I got through the front door of the apartment I quickly stripped and lay on the bed. I buried two fingers inside myself as I held the flower to my nose. I breathed in as heavily as I had earlier, and came twice, about a minute apart as I fingered myself as energetically as I’d ever done before. As I then put my fingers to my nose to take in my own aroma, I began to realise what had been turning me on the past hour or two. As I drifted off to sleep with the flower beside me, I made sure to turn towards it. As I entered dreamland, I knew I had to have more of it. Needed more of it. I wasn’t sure, though, whether it was only a dream as I pulled the petals to my lips and began licking them.
I tried to Bobbi the next morning, but there was no reply. It was Saturday, and I had hockey practice at the club I’d ed. I didn’t think much about Bobbi again, or her aunt for that matter, until I got into bed that night and started staring at the flower, still there on the bedside unit. I realised that I hadn’t put it in a vase and had just put it on the unit when I awoke that morning, but not until after I’d had another smelling session then, taking in the aroma until I just had to get up. There it was still, and I stared, until I leant towards it to breathe in the scent again, and instinctively licked the petals. I didn’t know what had come over me to do that, but it just aroused me, simple as that, and after I finger-fucked myself again as I breathed the scent in, I knew that this one flower wasn’t going to be enough. I drifted off to sleep holding it, and again wasn’t certain that licking the petals once more was reality, or just another dream.
When I awoke in the morning, I momentarily froze. I was looking directly at where it had been as I drifted off the night before, but it was gone. Frantically I raised my head to peer over the side of the bed, when momentary relief then turned to dread as I at first saw the flower, but then realised that it was dead. As I grasped the petals, they disintegrated. I was beside myself with despair. I needed to smell that musky aroma again, desperately. I got up. Dressed without showering I did, but as I brushed my teeth, I caught a whiff of the scent on my fingers, which for some reason only heightened the despair. I tried to call Bobbi to get her aunt’s number, but there was no answer. I called a cab, and on the way back to Aggie’s I started to call in sick before I realised it was Sunday. When I arrived at her house she was waiting at the open front door. As I walked towards her having tipped the cabbie a twenty, she said “Good morning, my dear. Do come in,” and I followed her as I had the previous day. Straight to the tearoom, like before, we went. “Sit down dear, and tell me what’s troubling you. You do seem troubled, you know.”
I sat, in the same chair as before, and immediately noticed that there were no flowers anywhere around, like before. I looked at her, smiling back at me she was. “Bobbi. I can’t get in touch with her. She’s not answering her phone. She was meant to be here Friday, wasn’t she?” I said anxiously. “Don’t fret, my dear. She’s old enough to look after herself now. Have some tea,” she said, looking down at the small table beside her, where a pot lay on a tray with a cup and saucer. “Yes. Yes, please. Thank you,” I responded to the offer, because I did happen to like what I drank before and was actually quite pleased more was on offer. She poured, and handed me the cup and saucer. I drank it down in one. “More?” She asked. “Yes. Please,” I responded, and she poured another. As she handed it to me, she said “Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” I told her I hadn’t, and she went on to suggest the virtues of not having one, before asking me again about my family, my job, my interests. I found myself telling her everything again, like an open book, only expanding more and more on what I was sharing. All the time I was glancing around, hoping to see if there was a vase of those flowers that I’d somehow missed. There wasn’t. I was obviously looking anxious. I was on my third cup of tea when she said “I know what you need,” and stood up. I stared at her back as she walked out of the room, and for some reason focussed on her rounded ass as it left.
I felt strange. Weird even, but filled with elation when she walked in holding a vase of flowers. She put them on the table right beside me, and said “There you are.” I leant towards them, and breathed in. The aroma was different to the last. In fact, it was a little foul, but I still needed to breathe it in. I don’t know how long for, but I couldn’t pull my face away from them. “If you want to take a couple home, my dear, you are more than welcome to,” she said, which sort of pulled me out of the daze I felt in. I turned to her. “Yes, please. Thank you so much,” I said. But I was aching. Between my legs I felt it, again. I knew I couldn’t get home without the release I desperately needed right then. “Can I use the bathroom?” I asked. “Of course, dear. Let me show you,” she said, and stood up. I stood too, and followed her out of the room. Up the stairs we went, and as we did, I found myself staring at her backside. Somehow, I was drawn to it, but didn’t understand why. At the top of the stairs, she pointed to a door. “There you are my dear,” she said, and I made for it. Once in I looked for a lock, a key in the door to turn, but there wasn’t one. But there were flowers! Yes, the flowers. I stepped towards the vase on the side and leant in. As I breathed in, I lifted my skirt. Pushing a hand into the panties I found it, and started to rub. I was so wet down there that my fingers glided so easily back and forth over my clit. A little fingering and I was close to getting there when I heard through the door, “Are you alright, my dear?” I stopped. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” I said, but I wasn’t. “Just a minute, please,” I asked for, and started again. Breathing in as close to the flower petals as I could, I started fingering myself again. I was there, climaxing within the minute. I suppressed the urge to scream as best I could, but there was still a whimper. Intense. So intense was the coming, I could feel my heart still thumping in my chest. I sat down. I reached for the paper to dry myself, and rubbed harder with it than I usually did. I leant into the flowers to breathe in again, when the door opened. There she stood, staring at me, smiling. “Come now, my dear. Let’s get you downstairs. You can tell auntie what’s really troubling you.”
I followed her downstairs and into the tearoom. She took hold of my hand and sat me down beside her on the settee. I looked across at the vase, and yes, it was still there. She caught me staring at it, or more precisely, the flowers in it. “Now, now, my dear. You’ll be taking another couple of those away with you. Let’s concentrate on making you more comfortable for the time being.” “Yes. Thank you, Aggie,” I said, finding myself gazing at her chest then. I hadn’t noticed that she was quite well-endowed underneath the blouse she was wearing. “You can call me Auntie, if you’d like, my dear,” she offered, and I wasn’t immediately sure of that, but then she said “Yes, from now on, call me Auntie. Ok?” “Ok, Auntie,” I said. And it felt right to. I didn’t have an auntie. It would be nice to have an auntie I thought. “Auntie,” I said, because I wanted to say it again, and tell her something. “Yes, my dear,” she said. “I’m feeling strange. So strange. I think it’s the flowers. They’re so, so,” I said, but couldn’t finish. “Of course they are, my dear. Now let’s get you two of them to take away with you,” she said as she stood. I found myself looking at her chest again, then her ass as it stepped towards the flowers. She turned and presented two of them towards me. “I think that these will do for you, just fine,” she was reassuring me. My heart missed a beat. I held out my hand in anticipation, but she turned towards the door. “I’ll leave them by the front door for you,” she said as she left the room. I looked across at the vase. I was about to stand up when she walked back into the room. “Now tell me about this feeling strange. I may be able to help you with that,” she said, which comforted me a little. I certainly needed some help. As she sat down beside me, I opened up. I told her that I had felt incredibly aroused taking in the flowers’ aroma, to a point of embarrassment. She reminded me that she had warned me that they might, and went on to explain that they were a special aesthetic produce of her botanist husband. She assured me that the initial effects were known to wear off in time, which did provide some comfort. She prepared more of that tea for me, and let me sit by the flower vase as I drank it. On the way out, she handed me the two flowers. It wasn’t until I was in the cab on the way home that I ed again that I hadn’t discussed Bobbi enough with her. Back home I prepared a meal between taking in more of the flowers’ scent. That night I chose to use my favourite ‘massaging device’ instead of my fingers, and brought myself off three times before exhaustion led swiftly to sleep.
I rose early enough the following day. It was, after all, a work day. I made sure to include one of the stems in my briefcase, just in case the need arose, as it surely would. Not long in the office, though, and I took a call from Lance. Frantic he was as he blurted out “Have you seen Bobbi, Sienna?” I told him I hadn’t. “I’ve not seen, nor heard from her in a week now,” he told me, which fitted-in around the time I would have last seen her at lunch. No, I hadn’t seen her I assured him, guessing that he was seeking to learn from me if they were still ok as an item. I couldn’t help him. Three more days ed, and on each he called me at least twice. No, I still hadn’t seen or heard from her, but did tell him that I may be seeing her aunt very soon, without disclosing exactly why. To my abject surprise he told me, “But she doesn’t have an aunt. Both her parents are only children.” How, or why, didn’t come into the conversation then, just an acknowledgement that there must be a misunderstanding somewhere. I assured him I’d let him know if I heard anything of, or from Bobbi, and on discontinuing the conversation, found myself pondering what this aunt business was all about, but as I sat in the bathroom cubicle fingering myself whilst holding the flower to my nose, I was happy that Aggie was my aunt now, if not Bobbi’s, and as what I was holding to my nose was now showing signs of wilting, I wondered whether I’d need to be visiting her again soon. Very soon……