Erotic Lounge - Short Works

Wet Garden (erotica short story)


 Wet Garden


Dean Jéan-Pierre



When you enter my garden, come in slowly, unhurried…naked with all your vulnerabilities ready to be exposed and with each deep sensual kiss, each gentle, seductive touch; the confidence of passion will inebriate your senses and fill you up like the warmth of the sun bringing a flower to life.  You will notice that a slow drizzle of rainfall has already begun to fall in anticipation of your arrival as you make your way into my garden…your garden--your home.  

My rainfall is like early morning dew covering grass like a blanket and it will envelop and drench you in much the same way as a blade of grass clinging to drops of water. The air in my garden is wet with the sweet fragrances of my passion that only the gentleness of your touch can make fertile.  Only when you probe the depths of my soil so beautiful things can grow from the love we make.  Only for you will the sun shine warmly in my garden, will the flowers bloom to their full potential, the birds will hum spring’s passionate arrival and the bees will suck the sweet nectar of nature’s pollen. 

You are always free to wander around and dig deep into the moist rich earth that has been prepared for only you to plant your seed.  Every other planter will be rejected because my garden was made for your seeds and every hole that is dug can only be occupied by you.

 From the fertility of my earth after you have planted every seed you have in my wet garden; the sweet fruits of our passion will be born and with the coming of spring; the harvest will be plentiful this year and every other year.  Everything that grows in my garden has been planted for you to eat, suck and swallow.  When you are finished, there will always be more for you because everything in my garden belongs to only you.  Every fruit that is grown is filled with love from your sweet kisses and only for you can they grow to be ripe and succulent as they wait to be plucked from their branches one by one by your tempting tongue.  The fruits left behind will be jealous because they will have to wait for the pleasure of being sucked between the ripeness of your lips and slowly making that journey down your throat into their final place of rest.  Every time you are hungry, you have to look no further than to eat and drink from the soil where you have planted your seed to grow and my wet garden will always quench your thirst.  We are connected in a way that nothing can tear asunder.  The roots that you have planted deeply in me, and me in you, cannot be removed even after my wet garden has gone dry and all the flowers and fruits have turned to weed.  Roots planted in love can survive all famine and droughts because where there is love, beauty and hope will always keep your heart fertile with passion.





Jean-Pierre, Dean

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