In Bloom

You wave at me in the parking lot as I pull in, and I wonder again what the hell I am thinking, agreeing to go out with you. You're young, younger than the guys I usually date. But cute. Really, really cute.

Is it a little weird to ask me to meet at the nursery where you work? Yes, maybe. But I've had weirder things happen with men I've met on the apps. There was a guy who wanted me to meet his mother after our first date; I declined, politely. There was the guy who messaged me his list of kinks when we matched; I guess you have to admire his openness. It saved us some time in the end.

You were polite and friendly, and interested. That in itself was a refreshing change. We had a week of chat on the app before you asked to talk on the phone - also unusual - and I liked your voice right away. It's a little softer than I thought it would be. We talked about a few things before you asked me out - what kind of food I like, and whether I liked going to trivia nights, things like that - and then you suggested tonight.

You texted me earlier to say you had something to show me before we went out, so here I am, in the parking lot, following you into your workplace. You hold the door of the nursery open for me, smiling, eager. You're even better looking in real life, and the blue shirt and khaki shorts uniform looks good on you. I've worn a little dress, something casual but cool. I don't know what we will be doing.

"Follow me," you say, making your way past rows of small plants in those square plastic pots. I see vegetables I recognize, and the marigolds my mother always planted to keep the bugs away from her garden. There are quite a few people browsing the selections. It's spring, after all. It's just warm enough to plant a garden bed or fill your hanging baskets with colourful flowers and potato vines.

"It's this way," you say, leading me into a greenhouse.

And I see immediately why you wanted to bring me here. It's a profusion of colour and texture and scent, and it's incredible. Every corner of this greenhouse is filled with a different type of container. There are wide, low pots filled with bronze-coloured Coral Bells and rust-coloured coleus. There are tall, angular black planters topped with rich green ferns and vines of pale ivy trailing down the sides. There are concrete pots filled with pink and yellow dahlias, spikes of purple celosia interspersed with some kind of leafy vine I don't recognize. And more, so many more flowers that I couldn't name them all. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

You are watching me look around, and your smile grows as I take in every part of the greenhouse. Your blue eyes shine.

"You did this?" I say.

"I did this," you say, and you grin with pride at my reaction.

"This is incredible," I say, and you do a little bow.

"Would you like to look closer?" you say, and I nod. You take my hand and lead me around.

I can hear voices murmuring outside, but we're the only people in this greenhouse. This is a special display, you tell me. You've been working on it for the last couple of weeks, tending to the planters and designing each one. There's a competition next week. You're happy with what you've done, you tell me, as you point out flowers I've never seen before. Your voice is soft, but your tone is serious. Big things could come out of this, you tell me.

"But that's not why I did it," you say.

"Oh?" I say.

"I love it," you say, and I see the tender heart of you in those three words.

We are standing close to each other in front of a gorgeous pot of calendula. Their orange hue is reflected in the stainless watering can next to them. You smile at me, and reach over and pick a flower. You present it to me, and I take it with a smile. Goddamn, you're cute.

Why haven't I dated a younger man before? I suppose I thought it would make me a cliché. That we wouldn't have anything to talk about, or anything in common. But this, this enthusiasm, this passion for this thing you've done, is so endearing.

On a whim, I lean over and give you a kiss on the cheek. You're surprised, but turn your face to bring it closer to mine. I feel your hand at my waist. This greenhouse smells warm and damp and earthy.

"Is this okay?" you ask, so quietly.

"It's okay," I say, smiling, and kiss you on the mouth.

Immediately, I catch the scent of you after a day at work, and your beard rubs against my chin as we kiss. I bring my hand to your cheek as we finish the kiss and pull away from each other. Your lips curve into that same smile you had showing me this greenhouse.

I step closer to you and press my body into yours. Your young body is firm and muscular against my soft, ample curves. I kiss you again; this time I open my mouth and find your tongue with mine, and soon the kiss becomes deep and wanting.

I lean down and kiss your neck where it meets your jaw, and you moan, and lean your head back to give me more access to your neck. I see your eyes close in pleasure, so I kiss you lower down, making my way towards the collar of your shirt. I lick your neck as I kiss you. Your warm skin is slightly salty from a day of hard work in the heat of this place.

Behind us, someone opens the door to the greenhouse, and we quickly step away from each other. You take my hand, and we turn towards a container that you filled with brilliant red and yellow phlox, laughing quietly.

The person wanders the greenhouse, looking at the gorgeous displays. She's not in any hurry. In the back of my mind, I hear the voice of a friend at dinner not long ago. I had been worrying about finding a date and meeting someone serious.

"You know, it's okay to have fun," she said. "You're allowed to just have fun."

So I take a chance. I turn in your direction and rub my hand over the crotch of your shorts. Your cock is a little hard. You must have really liked me kissing your neck. You let out a low moan.

"Shhh," I say. "Is this okay?" I whisper.

You nod your head, so I keep rubbing you. I feel your cock grow thicker and harder as I rub.

"These flowers are so beautiful," I hear the woman behind us say. I turn in her direction and tell her yes, they are very beautiful, and that these containers are not for sale, but that I heard she can buy some in the other greenhouse.

"Oh, thanks!" she says, and turns to walk out of the greenhouse.

As soon as we hear the door click closed, we slam back into each other, kissing, and clinging to one another.

"You feel so good," you say. Your hands wander up my back and you pull me closer to you. You kiss my neck.

"You can touch me," I say, and you bring your hand to cover my breast. My nipples respond to your touch, and you rub your thumb over one of them, sending sparks through me. I have to stifle my own moan as you caress my nipple through the soft fabric of my dress.

"Are we going to..." you say, as I rub your cock through your pants.

"Yes. I think we are," I say. Both of your thumbs are brushing lightly over my nipples now, teasing me, and our kiss is awkward and clumsy as I lose focus on your mouth. I'm so aroused by the lightness of your touch and the way you smell, the way you smile at me. The need I have felt for a while, waking up inside me.

"Fuck, that feels good," I say. I can't help but moan as you trace the curve of my breast and put your knee between my legs. The pressure feels good against my clit, so I push myself closer to you, pressing into your knee. I moan again, and tell you I want more.

You lean over and whisper in my ear.

"Shhh, baby. Let me focus on you. I can make you feel even better," you say.

I open my eyes and smile at you. I like it when you call me baby.

"Please, do," I whisper back.

You guide me against a shelving unit, kissing me and letting your hands wander over my waist and back while you do.

You reach under my dress and between my legs. You rub your knuckle lightly up and down over the cotton panties covering the mound of my pussy. The gentleness of your touch makes me shiver.

I put my hands on your chest and feel your taut muscles, your small, stiff nipples under the coarse fabric of your uniform shirt. You kiss my neck, and slowly continue to rub me over my panties. I start to move my hips. I need to grind into your hand.

"Not yet, baby," you say. But I can't stay still.

You put your mouth to my collarbone and lick along it, feeling me, holding my breast in one hand and gliding your knuckle against my pussy with the other. I untuck your shirt and put my hands on your back. Your skin is hot. I pull you closer to me.

"Please," I say.

You laugh and lean back to look at me. Your face is flushed; your forehead is framed by damp curls.

"You look so good like this," you say, and lick at a drop of sweat travelling down my neck to the space between my breasts.

You press closer to me again and reach back under my dress, pulling my panties to the side. I'm slick and swollen, and you slide your fingers inside me. You quiet my moan with your mouth. I'm already so close to coming.

You move your fingers inside me and rub my clit with your thumb, and I close my eyes, grind against you and pull your body closer to mine. I concentrate on the feeling building inside me, your fingers filling me, the pressure in my core.

"Let go for me," you say. It doesn't take long. I come, whining and moaning into your mouth as you kiss me. You keep moving your fingers, until I open my eyes again.

You take your hand from under my dress, and bring it to your face. "You smell good, baby," you say, and lick your fingers. "Taste good, too."

Oh, you and I are going to get along just fine.

You find a rag nearby and wipe your hand while I straighten my dress and find the flower you gave me. You look back at me and smile.

"Are you ready to go?" you say.

I turn to look again at the greenhouse and all of the containers you created just because you wanted to. You stand behind me and put your arms around me.

"It's so beautiful, I almost don't want to leave," I say. You smile.

"We can come back," you say. "But it's hot in here, and I'm thirsty, and I know you must be too. Let's go have a beer somewhere. Let's get to know each other a little better."

I turn around in your arms and kiss you on the cheek.

"And then later, it will be your turn," I say into your ear. I feel your cheek curve into a smile.