As she’s perusing, she notices the most gorgeous rose she’s ever seen sitting next to the cashier, and asks for its price.
“Oh, sorry,” the cashier replies. “That one’s not for sale. I got that as a gift from a fellow florist for hooking him up with a woman I met yesterday.”
“Yesterday?!” she gasps. “How did they hit it off so quickly?”
“Well, he’s a handsome man, a really nice guy, and apparently a wonderful lover. And to top it off,” he says, leaning into a whisper, “I hear he’s got a 10-inch cock!”
She giggles, blushing. “Sounds like quite the catch! Where can I find him?”
“He’s just a block over. But fair warning…he’s also a little…kooky. He’s only interested in women named after flowers. So if I ever meet a woman with a flowery name, I send her his way.”
He points at the rose. “Then, he sends me a flower as a thank you. Yesterday was Rose. A week ago, I recommended Violet to him,” he says, indicating a slightly wilted violet in a vase behind him.
The woman thanks him and leaves, bitterly cursing her own name. Undeterred, she visits the well-endowed florist’s shop. Stepping up to the counter, she pointedly inquires, “I heard you are particularly…skilled… in certain areas?”
He smirks. “So I have been told. And who might you be?”
Her heart skips a beat at his sexy accent. “I was referred by your friend down the street. Perhaps you can…assist me?”
“Perhaps,” he says, “but tell me…what is your name?”
She hesitates. Then, pouting slightly, she replies “Kristen. But everyone calls me Kris.”
His smile falters, and his head sinks as he shakes his head. Kris’s heart drops, knowing she’s blown her chance.
“Well then…if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like some flowers for my mother.”
“Of course,” he sighs, turning towards his menagerie of bouquets behind glass. “What kind of flowers does…she….”
Suddenly, without another word, he locks the shop door, swoops upon her, and takes her into his arms.
Three hours of mind-altering orgasms later, she bids him goodbye with a kiss, as he presents a complimentary bouquet for her mother.
“And please,” he says, “tell your sweet mama she is welcome to as many flowers from my shop as she would like.”
Flustered with ecstasy, she promises to convey the message, and calls her mother that night to tell her everything.
The next day, Kris feels incredible, and stops by the original florist’s shop.
“I just wanted to thank you for telling me about that dashing gentleman! He was AMAZING!”
He smiles sheepishly. “I suppose I should thank you too. I just got another beautiful flower for recommending you to him.”
“Really? What flower could he have possibly sent that was named after me?”
The florist sighs. “Chrysanthemum.”