Falling petals
The meticulous tick-tock, tick-tock of the old clock across the room measured every single of Alyssa’s steps as she moved through the rows of books, carrying a few misplaced ones on her arms. Today was a quiet day. A day for moving things slowly and without the creaking of ill-maintained wheels and carts. The number of people having visited her little book store today could be counted on one hand and most of them had merely come to pick up a specific title they were looking for. Only two students had come to stay and browse the boards for things to pique their fancy. And as the youth of today so often did, they had seen it fit to leave whatever they had taken out from its proper place lying around wherever they stood the second something new caught their attention.
Yet on days like this, Alyssa hardly could be bothered to even chide them, let alone step up to stop them. For every single volume laid onto the wrong shelf gave her a task to accomplish, a small errand to run inside her store. Not that she was not also busy with other things, but quiet days like this one demanded a bit of occupying herself.
Now, however, the day was almost over. Flaring orange and buttery gold painted the sky as the sun neared the horizon. In an hour, she could close up and go upstairs into her own living quarters. Maybe brew a cup of tea, maybe read a good book herself. Or maybe, she thought with a mix of guilt and annoyance, her mother would call. She had promised that she would bring up the topic again, hadn’t she? No matter how much Alyssa insisted that even nearing her thirties there were no reason for her to go out and aggressively flirt with any even just halfway decent looking man.
Alyssa immediately sought to appease her rousing doubts. It was not that she was against the institution of marriage. And most definitely not something ridiculous like hating the thought of one day having her own family. But why was it so hard for her parents to see that she did not feel comfortable chasing the prospect of a relationship rather than to find her luck? Was it asking for too much to enter a relationship because it felt good instead of because it had to happen on time?
Her eyes fell onto the clock, still patiently ticking away on the wall. She had been lost in thoughts for too long. She’d have to close up shop in a minute! And there were still two books left that she had to place back onto the shelf! Caught between the responsibility to keep the shop orderly and the desire to lock up and end the day she heard the chime ring. Someone had entered. Oh, fine! The last customer for today. She could wait that long.
Stretching to place the first book onto the right shelf she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her heart-shaped face was flushed pink from the exercise of reaching the higher shelves without a footstool, her cream colored woolen sweater seemed to stretch itself thin following her movements. Kept neatly in a braid falling down her back her fawn hair danced around as she wobbled a bit trying to keep her balance. Though thankfully the fact she was tip-toeing nearer at the shelf was concealed by the swishing folds of her long coffee brown skirt, her pale amber eyes scowled through the lenses of her wire-rimmed glasses at the frantic struggle she saw displayed in the glass. There was still a customer somewhere in the shop with her. She had to wrap up here.
The book flopped into its proper place on the shelf, carried over by the momentum it had gained as she pushed it up high. Alyssa allowed herself a triumphant huff before ducking through the rows to get the last of the misplaced volumes back to where it belonged. There was a sound of steps on the wooden flooring of her shop somewhere nearby, the sound of textiles ruffling against each other. It seemed the customer was somewhere close. A vague feeling caused her to pause and blink in surprise. There was something like the faintest trace of a smell wafting through the place. Different from the familiar scent of old wood and paper, of ink and solid covers held by glue. Whoever they were, they better not be spraying perfume in her shop! She drew in breath, trying to place the smell. It was… exotic. Yet in a strange way familiar. Light and almost intoxicating. Flowery, sweet and yet… elusive. Without even being aware of it herself Alyssa’s tongue probed the air, almost believing to taste the smell like powdery crystals melting on her mouth. But already the moment passed and she quickly resumed her way to the corner, where the last book in her hands needed to go.
She moved around an isle of books placed decoratively on the small table when the customer also neared this particular spot. Alyssa was mildly surprised to see the young woman walk through the rows of books slowly towards her. If appearances were to be trusted, the woman was maybe a little younger than her, but carried herself with radiant confidence. Her straight garnet hair fell around her face in longer strands, one of them even falling before her eye. The other, still unconcealed eye gleamed with bemused energy and a certainty that made Alyssa shudder. The woman’s dark red lips curved in a way that made it look like the petals of a flower were opening for a warm smile to blossom on her face as she closed in on the befuddled clerk. With every step by which the distance between the both of them shrunk away Alyssa found the foreign, fascinating perfume grow stronger and stronger, though even as the woman reached her the smell never grew overpowering. It was just always there, wafting around her in a way that the timid clerk did not know how to cope with.
“Excuse me,” even her voice seemed ripe with that same floral aroma, which reasonably speaking could not possibly be true, “But I need to find a book on gardening.” Alyssa heaved, resigning herself to her fate. Even if she was technically already over her normal working hours, this woman was too respectful and polite to just turn her down. “Sure thing, just wait a moment, please. I need to please… I mean, place this book back!” What was that? She angrily shook her head. No! Even if she was tired, to let a slip of the tongue like that be heard in front of a customer. But the woman just giggled. A merry sound, like water running over a bed of rounded rocks on a sunny day… And sweet, so very alluring flowers blooming near the water… She blinked. Just how tired was she really? To even daydream at work.
“Take your time. I know I am a bit late. I had almost given up on finding a book store still opened around this time of day. I am so happy I found you.” Her well manicured finger nails scraped over a small trinket, a little rose by the looks of it, hanging from her neck on a silver chain. Little stylized thorns ran off from it like the entire necklace were part of the actual flower. Against better judgment Alyssa found her eyes lingering on the trinket, even if it brought her dangerously close to staring into the other woman’s cleavage. Arguably a sight to behold, as the woman wore a low v-neck sweater, the burgundy fabric provoking rather than obscuring looks at the shape of supple flesh beneath it. As if not even noticing her gaze on her the woman kept talking about how she used to admire flowers from afar for a long time, until just recently she had decided she wanted to raise some herself. Alyssa tried to get back to her task and shelve the book in her hands, but the floral scent that still kept wafting through the air seemed to be distracting her more than she thought. She tried her best to stretch and put the book in the right place, but try as she might she did not reach it.
“Silly me!” Her customer clasped her hands before her mouth as if in shock. “I talk and talk when I… Forgive me, where did I have my eyes? Let me help you.” With but one swift motion she took the book from Alyssa’s unresisting fingers and placed it into the gap between the others. Alyssa wanted to say her thanks, yet as she opened her mouth the strangest sensation of dizzying confusion ran through her, causing her to gasp a little. With the woman standing right behind her, her tits pressing so firmly against her back, she felt the aroma of sweet, exotic flowers almost palpable on her skin, gathering and trickling into her nose and mouth whether she wanted it there or not. She felt her muscles gave way as the woman caught her, holding her steady as much as keeping her submerged in the scent even longer.
The breath of the other woman was keeping their bodies gently swaying back and forth as Alyssa leaned against her, too dizzy and weak to move right now. Or maybe it was the woman herself that kept her swaying, rocking her back and forth as if to ease her into sleepy relaxation. Though Alyssa was far too immersed in how warm and cozy she felt snuggled against the other woman’s chest to even care about how inappropriate this might seem. “I always thought, that maybe I should start with a rose.” Vaguely she noticed her customer was still talking about her wish to raise flowers. But that was just fine, Alyssa did not feel like she could trust her legs to carry her over to the gardening corner quite yet. Best to stay here, wrapped up in the other woman’s embrace as she held onto her, and listen. Just listen.
“But roses, you know, are not flowers to be kept and cared for in the end. No. Roses are the queens of all flowers. They are not raised, they are to be served and nurtured.” Was that how it was? It sounded correct, but then again Alyssa herself had only rudimentary knowledge of gardening. Yet she could see easily how no rose would willingly let itself be reduced to a mere room plant, a meek decoration piece. No, roses were noble and beautiful and worthy of offering up one’s service to their needs. “So I figured,” she felt the woman’s finger trail over her slack jaw line and slowly higher up, playing around her lips, “that it may perhaps be best I start with a different flower. A meek one. An obedient one. A flower born to offer up her services to her queen.” Alyssa was feeling less and less steady by the minute. It was so fortunate this customer was here to help her out of her thick sweater. And her skirt. She may have found it a bit ill suited to stand before her customers in nothing but her stockings and underwear, but this woman was special. It was perfectly fine to be seen by her.
The woman gripped her firmly, steering her with infinite patience until they reached the back of the shop, far from the window where any passer by may spot them. Alyssa felt like that was important, yet she could not place her finger on the reason. “What I am looking for,” the woman breathed into her ear and Alyssa felt her brain flooded with that same pungent floral scent, “is a good girl that knows her place is to serve. A meek girl that accepts her place is to do as she’s told.” She seated Alyssa in a chair, her hands momentarily leaving her as layer by layer she began to undress. Alyssa moaned in a daze. She had no other words left to describe the grace in the other woman’s movements. As if a rare and dangerous blossom would unfold right before her eyes, revealing a beauty she had not seen before.
Wearing nothing but the rose-shaped necklace any longer the woman returned to running her hands over Alyssa’s skin, shirking the last pieces of clothing the clerk wore as she went. With extensive, teasing strokes the woman set out to remove her stockings, clearly reveling in the pretense to let her hands wander over Alyssa’s silky legs. Tugging her back onto her feet the two swapped places, now it was Alyssa standing and the other woman seated on the chair like on a throne. Her panties were the last piece of cloth to go, baring every bit of her to the strange woman who simply pointed down. The gesture was compelling, forcing Alyssa to her knees before she had any time to consider resisting. Not like she would have. To even remember why she ought to have resisted in front of such a majestic individual was already impossible. She was so happy to kneel before the woman and just watch her, waiting to be told what to do next. The woman extended her own leg to her, wiggling her toes. “Go ahead and kiss my feet, girl. In order to serve your very own rose, you best start to work your way up from the very bottom.” And nothing could make Alyssa happier. She longed to place kiss after kiss onto those perfect feet, excruciatingly slowly moving along the leg higher and higher. Passing the knees, pushing the woman’s legs apart to place soft, lingering kisses on her tights. And being rewarded with the sweetest of moans. “Enough!” Obediently she backed away, looking at her mistress in reverie. The woman’s face was awash with malicious excitement. “Now, I think it is high time you start caring for a very, very sensual flower. And taste plenty of its nectar. So come here!” And as her mistress parted her legs, revealing the most alluring pink cunny Alyssa had ever seen, she forgot all else and devoted herself to the service the woman deserved.
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