Scent Of Jasmine 1

The suspense was gnawing at me and I was in an agony of indecision.

I spun around to see if anyone was watching me but everywhere I looked I saw flowers and foliage. Huge ostentatious bunches of roses, baskets stuffed with peonies and poppies, chrysanthemums, orchids, pansies, tiger-lilies and hundreds of different plants and shrubs all blending to create a kaleidoscope of color and a variety of floral displays at Garden World's Garden Design Exhibition.

Everyone appeared to be immersed in the breathtaking beauty of the gardens, strolling through the walkways, admiring the settings, journeying from the tranquility of the Zen gardens to the geometric elegance of formal patio gardens to the well-planned disorder of the quaint country gardens. My creation; a lock-up and go townhouse-style garden, was getting its fair share of admiration but no-one was paying me any undue attention.

I took a deep shaky breath. The wash of different fragrances that hung in the air seemed to overpower me as I glanced over at Meredith trying desperately to decide whether or not I should share my dilemma with her.

Meredith was my boss and one of those earth-mother types with her feet firmly planted on the ground, but we were as different as night and day. While I liked to think of myself as a landscape artist who painted with plants and made gardens sexy by creating evocative spaces that provided a retreat from the stresses of daily life, she was a qualified horticulturalist and environmental activist who was immersed in an organic revolution. Her aim was to stamp out all chemicals, hormones and gene-splitting which she said were more dangerous than actual warfare.

But for now she was flushed and happy, totally in her element promoting the benefits of natural organic planting to anyone who cared to stop at her garden which she'd christened 'Hot Food.' It was a bright contemporary Mexican-themed kitchen garden with cilantro, lemon trees, tomatoes, chili peppers, purple sage and a variety of greens and herbs. Her latest campaign was to get schools to teach compulsory classes in agriculture because, "Kids need to know that food does not grow in supermarkets," she reiterated whenever she got the opportunity.

I had jokingly suggested that she incorporate some of the huge carrots and zucchinis in her garden display that she'd harvested from her organic farm and call them 'Naturally Orgasmic' instead of' 'Naturally Organic' because some of those babies could definitely serve a dual purpose as well as revive great interest in veggie growing. She hadn't been amused but I'd noticed a faint blush creep up her throat which made me laugh. I wondered whether I'd touched a stimulated nerve or at the very least, given her some ideas that didn't involve salads.

No! I decided emphatically as I watched Meredith push back a mousy strand of hair which had escaped from beneath her straw hat. There was no way I could tell her about the letters, even though she may've seen who'd dropped them off.

To be honest, I hadn't given any real thought to the silly sing-song lilt in the green envelope that I'd discovered yesterday on the small display table beside our brochures and business cards.

'Jasmine, Jasmine with eyes so green. You're the prettiest flower that I've ever seen.'

Oh sure, I'd been mildly flattered when I'd read it but I'd laughed it off. Hundreds of people had visited the exhibition because it was Sunday and my guess was that some joker was having a little fun. But when I got back from a coffee break to discover a second green envelope in the same place I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Two days in a row was more than a little fun. It was deliberate.

I inched the white embossed page out of the envelope. The writing was the same but the words were very different.

'Dear Jasmine,

Do you know how you look when you think no-one is watching? I wonder if you have ever studied the dark depths of your own eyes, the wild grace of your tawny hair in the breeze, the stubborn line of your chin and the perfect curve of your breasts.

If only I could watch you slowly peel off your clothes to reveal the silky smoothness of your skin, every hill and valley of your body's landscape and the petals of your secret garden.'

The hills and valleys of my body? The petals of my secret garden! Fuck, what was this? Some hopeless gardening stalker writing a delicate dirty letter?

A shiver raced along my spine as I again scrutinized the faces of the people wandering about. All I saw were avid gardeners hunting down new ideas, grannies carrying pots of violets and a mother trying to do damage control with a toddler's melting ice-cream cone. Nobody was remotely interested in me, let alone watching me. It was just another lazy afternoon at Garden World.

Except it wasn't.

Someone was fantasizing about me and sending me notes.

Maybe even stalking me.

My reaction was alarming. I kept telling myself that two bullshit fan letters from someone with a green envelope fetish and too much spare time were supposed to be ignored. At the very least they were supposed to frighten me. But instead, adrenaline shot through my veins in a hot rush, my pulse raced and tingles rippled across my fevered skin.

I was excited.

Goddammit! What was I? Some kind of pathetic freak who didn't have enough excitement in her life?

I wondered fleetingly if it was a last supreme effort on the part of my ex-boyfriend to get me back. In the three months since we'd split, he'd tried several times but this didn't have his stamp on it at all. He was more of the conventional type who'd resort to phone calls and gifts. There was no chance he could've dreamed up something this original or daring.

"Jasmine, shouldn't you be leaving now if you're going to make it in time for that 5pm appointment?" Meredith's voice rang out. "You don't want to be late, and there's still traffic to get through."

I gathered up my car keys and shoved the green envelope into my handbag. "Yeah okay I'm on my way," I said.

"And remember, I told you that the client said he might be a few minutes late, so you just wait if necessary." She gave me one of her don't-argue-with-me looks as she babbled on. "He mentioned something about being away on business tomorrow and we really don't want to lose the opportunity to quote on this one as soon as possible."

It took all my self control not to roll my eyes. Meredith could nag. That was another reason why I couldn't possibly share the letters with her. Not only would she be shocked and outraged, but she'd nag the shit out of me until we knew who it was.

***

The private estate where my prospective client lived was secluded and exclusive. That much was obvious as the guard at the controlled access entrance waved me through and told me where to find the house. The estate was made up of free- standing bush lodge styled homes with thatched roofs and viewing decks. Each house, while completely private and walled off from its neighbor, had its own garden and overlooked a woodland nature reserve which surrounded the entire complex. It was uniquely beautiful and from the moment I drove in I got the impression of being away from the hustle and bustle of city life in the very heart of rugged and untouched nature. The buzz of the central business district was just a couple of miles up the road, but you'd never know it.

I wondered what he did for a living. Clearly something that paid mega bucks given what the cost of owning a prime piece of real estate like this was that could cater to nature lovers who also enjoyed the yuppie scene. No wonder Meredith had been so anxious to get me to the appointment on time; mingled in with the smell of woodland soil she was getting the powerful whiff of money.

I forced back a twinge of envy. Perhaps if I hadn't given up the challenge of a corporate career to work in gardening and landscaping I might've been able to afford a place like this some day. Still, I mused, big corporate salaries came with lots of stresses and irritating corporate assholes. I remembered the one who walked past my office where I had Georgia O'Keefe's exquisite 'Black Iris' painting proudly displayed and asked a colleague, "So who's the babe with the pussy hanging on her wall?" After that he undoubtedly had me pegged as one of those types who would screw her way up to the top.

In defense of the artist, I have to say that O'Keefe created her close up paintings of flowers with no sexual imagery in mind, although critics have constantly tried to imply that she did. There's nothing to be said in defense of the corporate prick. His idea of art was probably his cum-splattered Playboy centerfolds.

But strangely, gazing at that painting that day, at the way the layered petals opened in sensuous folds to reveal a mysterious darker core I had to admit there was perhaps more to the Black Iris than met the eye and the realization suddenly dawned on me that part of the reason why I'd fallen in love with plants and flowers was because they were sensual. As it turned out they were alluring enough to catapult my corporate career aspirations straight out of the window.

Both parking bays outside Mr Milner's house were available as I pulled up and glanced at my watch. Fifteen minutes to go before our scheduled appointment and there was no sign of him, but an unlatched side gate which led into his property caught my eye. It was usual to get the guided tour around the garden from the client but I preferred, where possible, to get a private peek at it beforehand. It always helped to get a preliminary idea of what their taste in gardening was and to evaluate the number of planting mistakes that would have to be rectified or somehow incorporated into the new design. And so like Goldilocks, I pushed open the gate and went in.

Late afternoon sunlight splintered through the branches of the trees that grew in the forest along the outside perimeter of the estate. Palisade fencing had been erected at the bottom of the garden to separate the property from the nature reserve while preserving a full view of all its exotic vegetation and the primeval giant ferns that reared up everywhere. Brightly colored birds swooped and plunged through the trees. I looked up and glimpsed a bright red flash, a crested barbet and a pair of starlings.

This was the kind of place to sleep with the doors and windows wide open, I mused as my eyes took in the setting. Perfect to cuddle in bed late at night lulled to sleep by the nocturnal sounds of nature or sit on the upstairs deck with a glass of wine listening to the birds and just let the world go by for a while.

I smiled; sometimes my job had its perks, even if it meant living vicariously through my rich clients. At least I'd get to add a touch of my personality to this piece of paradise if I got the go-ahead to design the garden which was compact but absolutely non-existent from what I could see.

Grass covered most of the area from the patio all the way towards the perimeter fence except for a small patch where a lone sparkly yellow sunflower beamed across tall rowdy weeds, basking in the sunlight. Anticipation seeped through me as ideas swirled in my mind for the blank palette that awaited my choice of rich hues and lush greens against the vivid backdrop of a natural forest. For the first time since reading the letter earlier, my head was clear and focused.

How was I to know that one bright sunflower standing tall and majestic in her unruly corrupted world of weeds, beckoning me would lead me into the danger zone? I was drawn towards it out of curiosity, because of its radiance, growing wild, rooted in the hard ground of jungle life but clever enough to grow and live far enough away from the trees so she could fully absorb the light.

I was halfway towards her when I caught movement in my peripheral vision from a nearby window. It was open, the curtains pulled aside and lying sprawled on the couch was a man touching himself. I froze in shock but fortunately his head was turned slightly from the window as he tugged at the foreskin on his cock, wriggled it between his fingers and pulled it back to expose his swollen cock head to the last warming rays of sunlight that were filtering into the room.

I choked back a gasp as I stepped quickly aside and flattened myself up against the wall so that I was out of his direct line of vision. His face was completely obscured from me and all I could see was his naked body from the chest down and the huge erectness poking from his groin. My heart hammered in my chest. Christ, was this the client I was supposed to be meeting? Meredith said he'd be late and now all I needed was to be caught perving in on his private moment while trespassing on his property. Every rational instinct in my head screamed for me to tip-toe back across the grass through the little side gate to my car and to call him in about ten minutes to say I'd arrived, but I didn't.

There was nothing logical or rational about the way I was behaving. I was totally consumed by the eroticism of watching a stranger masturbate. The universe had shrunk to the spot I was rooted on and the only thing I was aware of was the sculpted hardness of his cock as he gripped it in his hand, stroking it with friction and heat.

I strained as far forward as I dared go from my hiding position alongside the window and saw the glistening dew of moisture at the end of his cock. He smeared it over the thick shaft and moaned as if he were aching from need. His arousal, the urgent guttural grunts as he stroked and the sight of his straining shaft being fucked by his hand turned me on in a way I could never have imagined.

Waves of lust started in my belly and spread out across my body shooting little darts of excitement across my breasts and crotch. I felt my nipples harden, my pussy grew hot and juiced up and the muscles deep inside contracted and throbbed wildly. Dear God, it was the most violent arousal I'd felt in a long time and I wasn't even touching myself. Dizzy with shameless desire I watched him pump harder and faster until his hand became a blur and he let out a howl that bounced off the walls as a fountain of white come arced up and splattered onto his belly.

The fifteen minutes I waited before rapping hard on the front door felt like an eternity, but even then I was struggling to regain my composure. My reaction and response had shocked me. Here I was, operating under the false impression that I was a nice girl, where in fact, I was just like the pervert who was watching me and getting dirty little voyeuristic thrills out of it. Jesus! What next?

The heady scent of my own arousal was distinct, even through the French perfume I was wearing and I hoped to God that he wouldn't detect it. I prayed too, that he hadn't seen me spying on him.

He opened the door with a quizzical frown on his face as though he wasn't expecting anyone. Relief washed over me and I forced a bright smile. "Mr Milner," I said, thrusting my hand toward him with more assurance than I actually felt. " I'm Jasmine from Naturally Green Gardens. Good to meet you."

Realization quickly dawned in his blue-grey eyes, "Ah yes, from the garden show, come on in, and please call me Don."

Yeah right, like Don Juan, I thought. The smile he flashed me was made for seducing women. I did my best to return a steady gaze but I knew right away that he was trouble. The casual jeans and tee shirt he'd thrown on did nothing to hide the rolling confidence or the animal gait to his hard body that spoke of money, power and excess testosterone. Of course, the fact that I already knew what a magnificent cock he had didn't help matters either. He was the type of man who I could easily be attracted to, who could drive me to do dangerous and decadent things but whom I avoided at all costs. Get a grip Jasmine, I reminded myself, this wasn't social, it was business.

My eyes flickered over the room that I'd seen from the outside. There was a striking painting on one wall and the natural brown leather couch which dominated the space. It looked for the most part utilitarian and functional with little of him stamped on it but it was surreal standing close to the spot where he had sprawled naked and spurted his seed. My gaze unwittingly fell to the tiled floor, wondering if there were traces of cum that had spilled there.

"As you can see," Don said gesturing expansively towards the view of the garden through the window, "It's not very big and there's not much there except virgin soil." He grinned, "And one solitary wild sunflower."

That damn sunflower! Why had he even mentioned it? It swayed in the breeze like a slow ballet dancer on stage holding her audience in hypnotic trance. Was he hinting at something? Did he know? I felt a flush rise up my cheeks. "Yes they can be troublesome sometimes, sprouting like weeds." What an understatement! He didn't have a fucking clue how much trouble that provocative flower almost got me into, "But this is a beautiful place, an exquisite setting," I said. "Lot's of peace and quiet, I guess."

"Well if you're after quiet, then this probably isn't the place for you. But if you're after peace, it definitely is." He gave me a penetrating look. "That's because, although we use them as a phrase I soon discovered here that peace and quiet aren't the same things. With over fifty different species of birds and the little stream that runs through the nature reserve attracting frogs, it's sometimes like a massed-choir concert. Throw in the shrill of the crickets at night and you have a whole symphony going. " He paused and looked out reflectively. "But I do love it here. It's good for my soul."

I was surprised to see such a serious and deep side to him and I couldn't help but wonder who or what, he was fantasizing about earlier. I tried to push the thoughts from my mind. It wasn't really important, what I had to do now was turn on the charm and sell him the fabulous ideas I had for his garden.

***

Showering was for people who were in a hurry but I preferred the luxury of a soak especially in the evenings after a long day. I splashed some foaming oil into the bath and breathed in the heady floral scent that rose up in clouds of steam. I pinned my long hair up and slipped into the hot welcoming water. Tiny rivers of scented bubbles trickled across the tops of my breasts and tickled my nipples as I lay back to let the warmth of the water ease the tension from my shoulders.

Don had liked the two different ideas I'd discussed for his garden and had asked me to send him sketches of both designs and the quotes. It was simply a matter of deciding which he preferred, but he'd been keen for me to start as soon as possible. My sense was that he was probably going to go for the indigenous forest walk type garden that incorporated a little log bridge with trickling water into a pond because it had an informal feel, was low maintenance and was like an extension of the forest that that would attract wildlife. I closed my eyes and tried to put him and the day out of my mind, but I couldn't. The truth was I still felt faintly aroused and while I kept pretending that my thoughts of him were limited to the project I'd be working on for him, my body said otherwise.

I languorously soaped myself and slid my hand between my legs. My clit was already swollen and thick lubricating juice was clinging to the folds of my pussy. I fingered myself and thought about my secret admirer. Did he fantasize about pressing his tongue inside me, exposing the pink folds of my pussy and licking up to the swollen nub? I shivered in pleasure and pressed two fingers deep inside while pressing my thumb against my clit. The image of Don's cock popped into my brain. God, that cock would stretch and fill me; it was that thick. And so fucking hard, it could chisel deep into me, split me apart, impale me and fuck me until I begged for mercy. My fingers worked furiously inside my pussy bringing me closer and closer to the brink. But I needed to be pounded hard. I needed my cunt to be filled.