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From the Archives: A Walk in the Garden
🕑 Added 2024-07-19 19:27:11 +0000 UTCScott turned the ornate cylinder over in his hands, inspecting the delicate sleeve of stained glass with its interlacing strands of silver. The foot-long tube was capped on each end by swirling cones of the same polished metal, and Scott could see what looked like a scroll waiting for him inside.
He set it down, hesitating. He’d been waiting for it to arrive, but he hadn’t expected to find it sitting in the middle of his spacious penthouse apartment when he came home from the office. There were several layers of security between entering the building and reaching the top floor, and even if someone had made it past all of that his door had been locked and there were no signs of forced entry. Considering that he was more than twenty stories up, that also ruled out someone coming in through a window. Yet there it was, sitting on his dining room table, the silver webbing sparkling in the fading daylight streaming in through his wall of windows that overlooked the city.
Scott was impressed, an emotion he hadn’t genuinely felt in years. In his forty four years the handsome playboy felt like he’d seen and done it all before. He’d traveled the world, climbed mountains, hiked through uncharted jungles, dived to the bottom of the ocean, gotten high on substances most people had never heard of, and fucked his way across every continent, including a few lucky women at an Antarctic research outpost. He was built like someone half his age, with a chiseled, leanly muscled body and a distinguished, brooding face that only seemed to grow more handsome as the years passed. With his money and looks there wasn’t a door closed to him anywhere. A single phone call was all it took and the middle-aged hunk would have whatever his heart desired. It was the kind of life people dreamed of having.
But Scott was bored. The thrill of it all was gone and he’d started to seek out less-than-legitimate means of adventure. For someone with the kind of money he had access to, nothing was off the table. If he’d wanted to hunt people for sport while high on weapons-grade coke and fucking his own personal harem, he could have made it happen with little effort. But fortunately for the rest of the world, Scott’s interests didn’t lie in making people suffer. He didn’t get off on corporate takedowns and crushing people under his heel; he got off on sensory experiences. The handsome stud loved nothing more than putting his impressive body through something new. He’d been tattooed and pierced and had both removed. He’d been bound and fucked in every conceivable position. He’d even paid an exorbitant amount of money to spend a month as a sub to an especially aggressive dominatrix. His head and body had been shaved of it’s raven hair, and he’d spent the following thirty days naked, with his thick hose in a cage, getting whipped and punished on a regular basis. The humiliation had been thrilling at first, but by the end of the month even that stopped scratching his itch. His hair had regrown, the bruises faded, and it was like it never happened, leaving the unsatisfied man back where he’d started.
Then Scott remembered the Garden. He was flipping through an old notebook he’d kept on his travels through the Sahara years earlier when he’d found an entry that mentioned the existence of an unnaturally lush plot deep in the heart of the desert. None of his guides had wanted to say much about it, nor did they know where it was or anyone who’d been there in person, so Scott had written it off as nothing more than local superstition.
Now though, with nothing else to occupy his time, he’d dug in. Scott pored over every piece of information he could find, scouring the internet and making trips to plumb the moldy depths of libraries all over the world for whatever scraps of information they held. It was a painstaking process that had taken Scott well over a year of dedicated effort, but he’d finally managed to piece together a view of the bigger picture.
It was staggering. There wasn’t just one Garden lurking in the Sahara; they were everywhere, with mentions in both remote, uninhabited corners and bustling pockets of civilization. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to their placements, but whatever the location, they were spoken of as places of worship, tended by a dedicated cult of gardeners that Scott could frustratingly find absolutely nothing about. Where they came from and exactly what they worshipped no one seemed to know, but one thing was clear: they’d been around for a long, long time. Scott found references going back as far as there was recorded history, the oldest being a series of cave paintings in the Australian outback.
It was exactly what he’d been searching for. From the very start Scott had felt a bit of the old thrill returning, and with each subsequent piece of information that feeling only grew. He wasn’t just on a path that was new to him, from what Scott could tell he was on the verge of something that no one else had ever managed. He just had to find them.
The wealthy adonis had spared no expense in making his interests known. He’d plastered the internet with posts seeking information and had sent messages to the farthest corners of the globe, all in the hopes of catching someone’s attention. The false leads had poured in as he’d expected, but now, months later, it seemed he finally had a genuine response.
Scott resisted the urge to open the scroll case and chose instead to savor the heart-racing excitement at the thought of all the possibilities. He left it on the table and stripped out of his shirt on the way to his bedroom, loving the way his hands trembled as he popped each of the small buttons to expose the salt and pepper dusting on his solid pecs. He was positively giddy as he dropped his slacks and shucked his briefs, his long, thick cock twitching as it shared in his excited state. First he would shower, then he’d pour himself a drink, then he’d open the case. It was all about control and prolonging the experience.
Which isn’t to say he was above enjoying himself in the process. As he stood in his room-sized shower and ran his hands through his thick, dark hair, the water cascading down his olive-tinted muscle, Scott felt more aroused than he had in months. Having a tangible result from his tireless searching, being on the cusp of something truly unique, was a turn on like no other. He let his hands drift across his sturdy chest and over his chiseled abs before cupping his low, heavy balls and stroking the wide, rigid pole, thinking about the ornate cylinder and its possible contents until he gave a low grunt and erupted with a force he barely remembered.
He basked in the sensation until he’d dripped dry and then sauntered back out into the expansive estate of an apartment, his spent hose swinging between his powerful legs and the muscled globes of his ass looming over the city below as he stood in front of the windows and poured himself a scotch. Scott nursed the glass, the peaty liquid warming his chest and steadying his nerves until he’d drained the tumbler and turned back to face the table.
“Here we go,” he purred, his voice a smooth rumble. He gently took up the case and tested each end, tentatively unscrewing one of the silver caps when he felt it give. A pungent floral aroma of ylang-ylang, jasmine and rose wafted out in a vaporous cloud when he removed the cap, drifting down and settling against the table top like a layer of fog. Scott fished out the rolled up document inside, a thick, coarse parchment that felt more like a type of wood than a piece of paper, and whose spicy, peppery scent joined in with the floral melange still spreading throughout the apartment.
At first glance Scott didn’t recognized the bizarre symbols as writing, but as he stared the shapes began to shift and merge across the page until they formed the familiar letters of the english alphabet. Dizzy from the heady aroma, the stunned man gave a short laugh when he realized he was holding a list of directions to a location only a few blocks away. After all of his searching, one of the supposed Edens had been in his own city, right under his nose.
He wasted no time. Despite the late hour, Scott hurriedly dressed and bolted from his apartment, practically sprinting down the busy sidewalks. The surrounding crowd thinned with each direction he followed, first turning down one alley, then another, and another until he was alone in the labyrinth of towering buildings and so turned around he didn’t know which direction he was facing. The last step proved the most difficult as Scott had to wedge himself in the narrow gap between two old tenements, the rough brick tearing several large holes in his tight t-shirt as he scraped his muscled frame through and into the small courtyard in the center. The building looked abandoned as there were no lights in any of the dirty windows that he could see, but Scott couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as he struggled the rusted trap door open.
It had been right where the directions said it would be, as was the rickety ladder that led down into the sewers beneath the street. In his rush Scott hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight, but as his eyes adjusted he realized he didn’t need one. A faint glow permeated the tunnel from the phosphorescent lichen clinging to the damp brick, casting a dim light that grew brighter as he neared the shining, obsidian portal at the end.
The door swung inward before Scott’s raised fist could make contact, his stunned jaw dropping at what lay on the other side. Towering plants with hulking, colossal blossoms in shapes and configurations that seemed to defy conventional physics loomed overhead, assaulting him with the same floral scent from the scroll case, only on a magnitude that hit him like a physical force. Scott squinted, his eyes blurry from the green and purple orbs that floated throughout the interior and cast the surroundings in a surreal glow.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
Scott turned to see someone approaching, the plants parting of their own accord as the robed figure passed. The large, deep hood obscured his view of the person’s face, and the front of the robe was embroidered with a strange geometric shape that he recognized as one of the bizarre blossoms. The hooded stranger’s movements were unnaturally smooth as they drew near, seeming to float above the ground and drift forward rather than walk in any conventional sense, their hands obscured by the billowing sleeves they held crossed in front of them.
Scott struggled to speak, his vast and varied life experience the only thing keeping his thoughts together in the presence of such unnatural splendor. “Is this...am I in a Garden?”
The figure’s smooth, calm voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. “Not a garden...THE Garden. They’re all one. All connected.”
Scott shook his head and took a deep breath, the pungent aroma making him dizzy and sending a pleasant tingle through him. “I don’t understand. What is this place? What are these flowers? How is any of this even growing? I have so many questions…”
The figure’s face was still shrouded, but Scott could sense a smile as it spoke. “All answers lie within. Please, feel free to explore and experience for yourself. All we ask is that you leave the outside world here and enter in your natural state.”
Scott was peeling out of his t-shirt before the robed figure finished speaking. He stepped out of his shoes and dropped his pants and briefs in one motion, too excited to be hesitant about his twitching, half-hard beast. It wouldn’t be the first time in his quest for something new that he’d walked naked into a group of people, and even if he did the handsome stud was well aware that he had nothing to be ashamed of.
“So do I just…” Scott trailed off when he looked up and found the hooded stranger gone. He shrugged his broad shoulders and took another deep breath of the potent scent, his skin breaking out in goosebumps and his cock throbbing harder as the aphrodisiac aroma filled his system. “Guess it’s a self-guided tour,” he muttered to himself, padding across the spongy ground in his bare feet. Scott shivered when he gently pushed through the tall stalks, the feathery leaves caressing his skin like fingers. He told himself it was just his imagination when he felt them running down his back, or squeezing his arms, or gently stroking against his rigid cock.
There was no way to avoid the contact. The growth was dense and crowded, forcing him to wedge between the almost solid mass of psychedelic vegetation. Colors like he’d never seen swam in front of Scott’s eyes as he examined the oddly shaped leaves and blossoms, marveling at the way they seemed to move of their own accord. There was no breeze that he could feel, yet the entire garden was in constant motion, gently swaying from side to side or rustling as he passed.
It wasn’t long before Scott lost all sense of time and scale. He had no idea how long he’d been exploring, and he told himself he must be walking in circles to have not reached another wall in the subterranean vault, though it occurred to him that he had no idea how big the room actually was. There was a rainbow canopy of swaying blossoms overhead, blocking his view of the ceiling, but based on what he knew of the sewers it couldn’t be as large as it felt. He had a sense of scale, like he was standing in the middle of a jungle, but he knew that was impossible.
The thought made him pause. Everything he was seeing and feeling should have been impossible, yet he couldn’t deny what his senses were telling him. As if to prove it to himself, Scott paused in front of a trapezoidal blossom, reaching up to gently stroke the crimson flowers. The whole plant shivered at his touch, the blossom leaning into his hand like a cat being scratched.
“Incredible...absolutely incredible…” he sighed. “I can’t believe any of this is...oh, uh, I need that back,” Scott said when he tried to pull his hand away but found it wrapped in vines that held it fast in place. He reached over with his other hand to try and gently extricate himself, another series of vines shooting out like striking vipers to wrap around his wrist and spread his arms like he was shackled to a wall. Scott grunted, his impressive arms straining and flexing in a futile effort at freeing himself. “Uh, is anyone there? I could use some help over here! Anyone?” he yelled, trying to remain calm. In his excitement the eager man had never stopped to consider that there might be danger lurking amongst the flowers, and now it was too late. Even his feet had been bound, the ground itself swallowing him up to his ankles to keep him in place. “Really, I could seriously use some help over herrrruuuuunnnnhhh….”
Scott’s panicked cry turned into a deep moan when a surge of pleasure shot through him. He’d been so busy looking for the robed figure that he hadn’t noticed the pink blossom stretch up from the ground and wrap itself around his thick pole and heavy balls like a fleshlight. He instinctively tried to pull away but the blossom moved with him, tugging backwards in response as it pulsed and vibrated around his aching organ. “Oh...oh fuck...this feels incr...incredible…” he moaned, the overpowering floral stench heightening the sensation.
More and more, the flowers around him began to respond. Scott could feel feathery leaves sliding up his powerful thighs and caressing the muscled globes of his ass while the blossoms looming overhead began to shake and shiver, sending a cascade of golden pollen raining down on him. He stopped struggling and let the pink blossom continue to work, losing himself in the overwhelming bliss. None of the foliage was hurting him, quite the opposite, and Scott was content to let it explore his muscled frame as much as it wanted.
He let his eyes drift shut, moaning softly as throbbing pulse after throbbing pulse shot through his loins. Scott had never experienced anything like it. Whatever the blossom was doing felt like one long, continuous orgasm. Scott looked down, expecting to see rivers of cum pouring out of the flower but was instead greeted with a sight that caused his struggles to resume in earnest. Somehow, the pink blossom was much smaller than it had been, the stem hovering only a few inches from Scott’s abdomen instead of the nine it should have. As he watched, the blossom drew closer until it finally lay flat against his skin, the ecstatic sensations never stopping.
The bound man was wide-eyed when the stem abruptly broke free, leaving the flower where his heavy package should have been. “Oh god...oh god...this can’t be real...this can’t be real…”
“It’s very real,” the calm voice said, interrupting Scott’s frantic stammers.
The horrified man looked up to see the robed figure standing in front of him, face still concealed by the deep hood as they stared at his bound, naked body. “Get me down from here! Please! What’s...what’s happening?!”
“You’re becoming a unique blossom, like all in the garden.”
“What?! No! I don’t want to become anything! I just wanted to know what this place was!”
“And now you know.”
Scott let out a choked cry when he looked down at the figure’s nod. The blossom that had affixed itself to his body had taken on the same hue as the rest of his skin and was settling into a horrifyingly familiar sight. Scott gawked at the feminine opening that looked entirely out of place on his muscled frame, his body still wracked by waves of pleasure even as his brain refused to accept that his proud, girthy package was gone.
The figure cocked its head to the side, watching Scott writhe against his bonds. “Did you really think you could witness something like this and emerge unchanged? Did you truly want to?”
Before Scott could answer, the feathery petals caressing his muscled globes went tense, spreading the granite cheeks to make way for a creeping vine. “OOHHHHHhhhh!” The straining hunk groaned when the warm, pulsing stalk entered, his vision blurring from the blissful intensity. He’d been fucked plenty of times, but it had never felt anywhere near this good. The invading vegetation was vibrating, lighting up each and every one of his pleasure centers as a warm liquid began to fill his insides. “Wha...what the….fuck is that?!” Scott whimpered at the unaccustomed sensation of his warm new entry throbbing in place of a rigid cock.
The figure said nothing as two more blossoms draped down from the rainbow canopy overhead, the petals latching onto Scott’s small, solid nipples.
“Fuck! WhaaaaAAAAHHHHH!” Scott arched his back and roared when the flowers on his chest began vibrating and pulsing like the one lighting up his rear. Dangling in front of him as they were, he could actually see the pockets of sap bulging their way down the vines to eventually connect with his chest, each one sending a lightning bolt straight to his throbbing new pocket. He was confused at first as to why the sap wasn’t spilling down his chest, and that confusion turned to horror when he finally realized that it was being deposited inside him. With each pulse his sculpted pecs seemed to quiver and expand, remaining just as firm as they grew ever outward.
Scott’s stomach dropped when it hit him that the same thing was likely happening to his backside. Bound as he was he couldn’t see, but when he gave his hips a rough shake he felt a set of large, heavy mounds shift and slam against each other. It was a nightmare. The handsome stud was mortified when he thought of how he’d look with a set of huge muscle tits above a tiny waist that exploded into a round, fat ass, all capped by an eager pussy where his thick cock and heavy balls should have been.
Worse, Scott could see more subtle changes taking place. The copious pollen raining down from above had glue itself to his skin, replacing the olive hue with a deep, golden tan. Even the wiry hairs on his arms and expanding chest had lightened to a golden blonde, and though it was hard to tell in the ominous lighting, his skin seemed smoother and less weathered.
“Pl...please…” Scott moaned, his pecs having expanded to the point where he could no longer see over them when he looked down.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction.” The robed figure’s voice was sympathetic as a vine wrapped around Scott’s chin and tilted his head back, the canopy parting overhead. Instead of looking at a subterranean ceiling, the wide-eyed man was greeted by an expanse of star-peppered sky, with ringed planets and dim, multi-colored moons looming in the heavens above. “All Gardens are connected...all lead to the same place. All who emerge carry the beauty and the seed within them to spread the glory of true creation.”
Scott heard the figure’s rambling from a distance, his overwhelmed mind threatening to shatter at what he saw. He wasn’t underground at all. He wasn’t even on earth. Scott knew the stars and planets overhead weren’t his own, and as he stared up he also seemed to be staring back down, his vision awash in endless, writhing canopies of monstrous blossoms that stretched on forever. And as his vision pulled deeper into the horrible cosmos he began to make out the shape of the being, not the planet, on which the Garden dwelled like a parasite.He closed his eyes and forced his head down, reeling from the immensity of it all.
“Don’t look away, little flower,” the figure said gently. “This is your reward.”
Scott opened his eyes and screamed as the robed stranger suddenly split in two, not a person at all but a massive blossom. The robe inverted as the petals spread and the flower drew up to join with the rest of the canopy, giving a soft chuckle as it merged with the rest of the swaying masses. It was the last thing Scott saw before his mind finally gave, sending him tumbling into darkness.
**********
“MMMmmmm….” Scott sighed, stretching out on the grass like a contented cat. The noonday sun was warm on his bare, golden skin and he could feel the hum of the earth reaching up through the grass as it tickled his rotund backside. The park was relatively empty, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Wherever he went anymore, it never took long for someone to get a whiff.
He was still surprised by how much he looked forward to it. Scott had originally been horrified when he’d awoken back in his apartment to find that it hadn’t all been a terrible nightmare. As impossible as it should have been, his sculpted pecs really had inflated into a ballooning pair of muscle tits, complete with large, nubby nipples. The shelf of muscle would have made his waist seem impossibly small by itself, but it had help from the gravity defying globes of flesh that had replaced his solid rear. The supple mounds were impossibly large, refusing to stay still and setting into motion with the slightest movement, each shake and jiggle sending little darts of pleasure to the eager new opening where his cock should have been.
But as jarring as those changes were, Scott was thrown the most by his youthful new appearance. The golden pollen hadn’t just left him tanned and blonde; it also left him looking half his age. Instead of rugged and distinguished, Scott’s high cheeks, chiseled jaw and wavy blonde hair now just looked pretty, and not a day over twenty four.
He’d spent that first day in a panic, wanting to call for help but knowing full well there was nothing that anyone could do for him. He cursed himself for ever thinking of his old life as boring as he thought about the freakish existence that had become his future. Not even all his money could fix this. Even if surgeons could undo some of the damage they wouldn’t be able to come close to putting him back to the way he should have been, but even as he thought about it the idea seemed repellent. As horrified as he was, there was a growing sense of purpose that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
As the day wore on that growing sense of purpose turned into a growing sense of fatigue. He’d tried to force down some food but he didn’t have an appetite, and he kept feeling a restless urge to go outside. Without anything to wear, the mortified former-stud finally lurched out onto his balcony, feeling instant relief as soon as the fresh air and afternoon sun hit his skin. For the first time since waking up that morning he’d felt a measure of calm, basking in the physical sensations his new body was bringing him.
He’d fingered himself without thinking, reaching up to toy with his inflated nipples while his oversized ass shook with each spasming twitch of his hips. As the blissful sensations shot through him there was no more horror, only a dawning understanding of what he needed to do. It was a natural instinct, like migrating birds or moths seeking a flame. He’d left himself unfinished, hurrying inside and squeezing into the biggest pair of shorts he had. The straining garment still left more of his ass exposed than covered and entirely showed off his missing equipment, but Scott couldn’t bring himself to care as he headed for the building’s fitness center.
The musky, sweaty man-smell hit him as soon as he entered. Realistically, Scott knew he wouldn’t have been able to smell the pair of fit young men before, but his new body was practically vibrating, responding to their presence before he even entered the room. He made no attempt to hide his intentions as he watched the athletic men’s expressions go from shocked, to amused, to aroused as they breathed in the pheromones he was emitting like pollen. Scott watched their shorts tent, and before he could stop to think about what was happening they were back in his apartment, his altered body writhing between the young studs. Scott still remembered thinking how odd it was to look at the pair of jocks and realize that they now appeared older than he did. They couldn’t have been more than twenty five or twenty six, but instead of almost twice their age Scott actually looked a few years younger.
Not that it mattered. As soon as they were back in his apartment he’d had both of them inside, one fat, wide rod working his oversized rear while the other long pole plunged in and out of his hungry new slit. He was a writhing mass of disproportionate muscle, whimpering and moaning ecstatically while the pair worked his inflated pecs and fucked him for hours. It was glory like Scott had never felt before. When the first young stud came inside him his altered body had absorbed it like a dry sponge soaking up water, and the second sent such a surge of vitality through him that Scott felt like he’d just done a line of coke. By the time the muscled jocks were finally spent, the altered blonde felt the kind of contentment he usually did after a big meal.
It was all clear to him after that. Like any flower, Scott needed fresh air, sun, and regular watering. He quickly learned that he didn’t eat or drink in the conventional sense anymore, but fortunately for the eye-catching man he quickly discovered that his effects on others were permanent. Taylor and Luke, the pair from the fitness center, came by to water him daily, and he had a growing list of return customers.
Which isn’t to say that the adjustment was immediate. Scott was still hit with moments of panic when he’d pass a mirror and see the flat mound beneath the revealing panties or bikini bottom that left his jiggling cheeks hanging exposed. There were still times when he felt an envious hunger at the sight of another man’s thick, rigid cock, when he’d miss what it felt like to be the one thrusting into someone. And it was always embarrassing afterwards, when the confused men who’d just fucked his brains out were looking for some kind of explanation for their bizarre behavior, would write off his heaping pecs, inflated ass and leaking pussy as mere surgical alteration. It was insulting.
But Scott knew they’d all learn eventually. The Garden had sent him out to be its seed, and one by one he was planting his own crop. As he’d been told, one didn’t walk away from cosmic truth unchanged, and whether they knew it or not, the men who experienced only a fraction of the knowledge that Scott held were already starting to become unique in their own right. Scott had walked in on Taylor and Luke, both supposedly straight, to find the brawny Luke ravenously eating out his friend’s tight bubble. Neither of the men seemed aware, but Scott could feel the alterations creeping through them. Luke’s thick cock had grown several inches, while Taylor grew shorter with each passing day. Like Scott they’d taken to wearing the bare minimum, and like any good acolytes they’d begun bringing friends over.
Still, it wasn’t enough. Though the eager young jocks kept him physically satisfied, Scott had an imperative to spread the word far and wide. He’d been self conscious and insecure the first time wandered out into public in nothing but a pair of small lycra shorts that accentuated his bouncing cheeks and hungry mound, but as soon as he’d taken his first man in a back alley his fears were forgotten. Writhing in the stranger’s grip, the older man’s thick rod buried between his pillowy cheeks while one hand reached around, deep inside, and the other toyed with his enlarged nipples, was heaven. He only made it a few blocks before he took his second, his broad back scraping against the rough brick as the man thrust to the hilt, furiously kneading his cresting muscle tits. Scott knew he should have been horrified and humiliated at what was happening. He was parading his warped body around and being fucked and used by strange man after strange man, and he loved every second of it. He wasn’t just fulfilling his own physical urges; he was tending his Garden.
Now he didn’t think twice about tying on a skimpy bikini bottom and lounging in the park, batting his sparkling, youthful eyes at any man who passed. When they’d inevitably stop and gawk at his oversized chest and absent crotch he’d just grin and roll over, giving them a view of his meaty, inviting rear.
Some resisted the urge, but most, like the lean young jogger currently slowing down on his third pass, stopped to smell the flowers.
The sweaty ginger came to a halt at Scott’s feet, his bare, toned chest heaving as he caught his breath. Already Scott could see the twitching beneath the man’s small, thin running shorts.
“Uh, hey,” he said bashfully, his eyes making an obvious show of traveling up and down Scott’s unique frame. “I don’t mean to bother you, but, uh, are you new around here? I feel like I’d remember seeing someone, uh, like you,” he stammered, smiling awkwardly.
Scott slowly raised himself up on his elbows, his piston arms looking small next to the impossible pecs. “And do you like what you see?”
The lean man’s face went as red as his hair when he finally noticed his tented shorts. “I, uh, guess so,” he laughed, looking around to see if anyone was watching.
Scott licked his lips, already eager to have the short, thin rod inside. He could see it clearly in his mind’s eye, just as he visualized how the man would end up. Would his wiry body become short and stocky? Would he grow an ass like Scott’s, or maybe a set of real tits? Would his boy-next-door face become round and full, or would he blossom into a mix of it all? “Come on,” Scott purred, climbing to his feet and nodding towards a nearby cluster of trees.
He knew however the man turned out would be just perfect. All the flowers were unique in the Garden.
