A Walk to The Paradise Garden

Note: The title is shared by a wonderful piece of classical music by Frederic Delius. If you can acquire a recording, you will find this story mirrors the music, and with a little luck, when the music stops, the tale will be near the end.

This story is dedicated to the exquisite Honey123, her contributions to Literotica are priceless, and I will always covet them!

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The beach was deserted. Only a lone crab tentatively made its way up the sandbar, pausing to explore a decaying jellyfish. In the background, monolithic jagged rocks framed a massive hillside. Foamy waves lapped the shoreline gently on schedule, unaware a new year was dawning...

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The slanted early morning light barely illuminated a narrow path. In the dim light of dawn, the forms of two figures slowly became visible, hands intertwined. They were traveling so slowly it was more like a shuffle than a walk. He breathed deeply, savoring the bracing cool air, while she hummed an old folk tune, simply enjoying his company. They were ageless on days like this, completely forgetting their infirmities. For the last 60 years the couple had made the walk to the Paradise Garden, always choosing New Year's Day. It was a perfect way to celebrate another year together, and they inevitably went home feeling spiritually refreshed.

There was a greater urgency in their walk today than in the past. The last six months had brought more bad news than any couple should have to bear. He had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, and would soon be bedridden and disoriented. She once more had to deal with metastatic breast cancer, which had initially flared up in mid life yet had gone into remission for many years.

Although they were both in some discomfort, they were still able to walk and early on had decided to ignore nuisance aches and pains. Medical issues were not new to them, and this was just one more hurdle to clear in that odd competition called Life. Somewhere in their consciousness they still remembered the strange feeling upon hearing the word "terminal". Everyone is terminal in a broad sense of course, but suddenly it was up close and personal. She had cried as he embraced her tightly, as the full gravity of the situation weighted down on them. Despite some mental setbacks, they had persevered and were determined to complete the four mile trek.

As they walked up the ornate hill, eloquently carved into a series of beautifully landscaped terraces, the rising sun revealed lovely greens and blues, with some pale yellow highlights. They recalled their courtship as World War II was getting underway so many years ago. It had been love at first sight of course, and he had sent her one red rose every day for a month until she finally succumbed. They had been married in the Paradise Garden, surrounded by adoring friends and relatives, as well as a myriad of blooming plants.

The owner of the garden had quickly become one of their closest friends. He had very graciously allowed them to visit the premises every January 1st, when the gardens were closed to the public. For several hours, they could be in their own special world where no one else exists.

As the path became a bit steeper, their gait slowed to a crawl. They had decided to start at the crack of dawn this year, knowing the journey would take longer. It was time for a rest, so they decided to relax on a bench for a bit, feeding each other delicious green grapes and delighting at the juice trickling down wrinkled chins. She lightly massaged his neck as he moaned with pleasure. In return, he caressed her aquiline nose and rosy cheeks. Time stood still as they took in the distant coo of a mourning dove. After a few minutes of pure joy, they got up and resumed the long hike. The grapes had rejuvenated them, and they were able to reach a beckoning greenhouse as a distant chime signaled 12 o'clock.

They rested against the massive glass door, huffing and puffing yet amazed they had actually covered four miles in six hours. He retrieved the key from a secret place, and opened the doors to Eden. The greenhouse was a good 100 feet long, and led into the Paradise Garden proper. Every year, new and exciting displays heightened their senses and made them appreciate life to a greater dergee.

The first room contained the cactus and succulent collection and had always been their favorite. They paused before a long trough planted with a bewildering array of Lithops, or living stones. The colors were extraordinary in their variety...slate gray, ketchup red, grass green, porcelain blue, and chocolate brown. Here and there the stones split and a cute little flower popped out in various shades of white and yellow. They fingered the imitation rocks, marveling at their symmetry and wondering how they could survive at all in the inhospital South African desert.

Next to the living stones were a bewildering array of cactus and succulents, a fantastic arrangement of shapes, structures, and spines. They read the labels with amusement...Burro's Tail, Desert Rose, Elephant Bush, Old Man Cactus, Horse Crippler, and Jade Plant. The last was an imposing six foot behemoth, with delicate white flowers that wafted in the breeze from a nearby fan.

Although they could have studied the cacti all day, it was time to move on. The desert environment slowly morphed into a moist bog, with pitcher plants and venus fly traps flanking a small pond. They knelt down and gazed into the water, a bit surprised at their detailed reflections. She rubbed his cheeks in the water, delighting as they disappeared with a gentle plop. He in turn ran his hands across her face, occasionally dipping down into the water to create some amusing distortions. It was like some crazy fun house mirror, and the couple delighted in watching their mouths disappear, their eyes double into eight, and their hair be suddenly chopped off by the pond's edge.

Reluctantly, they moved away from the bog and continued into the orchid area. The extraordinary fragrances enticed them like an Arabian snakecharmer- jasmine, ginger, allspice, and cocoa, each more pungent than the last. Even more amazing were the forms of the flowers themselves. They marveled at a perfectly formed white moth, a series of nuns in ecstatic contemplation, and an odd dark assemblage that looked for all the world like a black bat. Time went by in a heartbeat as they luxuriated in the tropical sunshine. Finally, the greenhouse ended at an imposing wooden door with a tiny sign attached which she had sketched long ago:

PARADISE GARDEN- ENTER QUIETLY

They smiled at each other as they slowly opened the portal to Another World, ready to leave the humid, sticky environment of the greenhouse. Immediately they were in Fairyland, as a series of curved paths led to a playful melee of garden ornaments, shrubs, roses, and perennials. They went to the maze area first, one of their favorites. A 200 foot square of yew trees had been shaped into a vast maze, complete with dead ends and other traps. She went ahead right off, as she always did, peeking through the yew branches for her trailing mate. He croutched down to avoid being spotted, then quickly got ahead and sprang out suddenly, roaring like a lion. She screamed so loudly they both jumped, then dissolved into a cascade of giggles. For a better part of a half hour the cat and mouse game continued, finally ending with her conceding defeat.

They were a little tired after all the horseplay in the maze, so were relieved to continue on to the citrus fruit staging. On a granite rock shelf, several enormous fruit trees in pots stood like sentinels under the burning sun. They sat on the grass, hugging each other in wild abandon. He picked off an orange and they took turns taking off the skin. Then, he separated one slice and squirted the juice all over her right hand. Bending over, he slowly licked her fingers, delighting in the fresh acidic taste. She cooed as his tongue rasped her pleasure spots, a bit sticky but knowing in her heart this day was the ultimate pleasure.

She took off another slice and squirted it on his cheeks and lips, delighted to have any opportunity for a kiss. Their lips came together exquisitely slowly, as tongues gently licked and explored the sweet nectar. When the orange juice was licked away, they continued in a fervent lip lock, using their tongues to prolong a sloppy wet embrace.

Just when they felt they could kiss forever, they reluctantly separated. It was time to move on to the climax of the Paradise Garden. Over 1,000 roses, planted in various symmetrical forms and color combinations. They stood enthralled under a gigantic entrance arbor, taking in the delicate scents wafting under their noses. He picked her one red rose as he had 62 years ago, and she walked with it as if she was carrying the Hope Diamond. In return, she cut off a twig sporting the most beautiful blossom she had ever seen, a vibrant palette of red, orange, gold, and apricot. They walked hand in hand, with their treasures sticking out of their shirt pockets and beatific expressions on their faces.

In the center of the rose garden was a raised area with a massive white bench. Above the bench was another vast arbor, festooned with cute little pink roses which had a minty scent. The couple sat on the bench, relishing the distant view of the water and several sailboats. Almost imperceptively, his hand moved over her breasts, kneading her nipples until they stood at attention under her flowery blue shirt. He put her red rose on the bench as he continued to gently massage her breasts. In return, she placed her hands on his crotch and slowly began to rub his excited member through his pants. Slowly but surely, they increased their pace, leaning over to frantically dart their tongues in and out of each other's mouths like two excited teenagers. He felt himself growing in her grip, getting a full fledged erection in a matter of minutes.

He deftly undid the buttons of her shirt, moving his hands under her loose bra. Her breasts felt like putty in his hands, and he rubbed them gently as she cooed and moaned softly in response. Two fingers took down his zipper and easily extracted his impressive tool from his boxers. She jacked off his stiff member exquisitely slowly, as he shut his eyes tightly in pure ecstasy. The couple tried to hold back, but their passion wouldn't allow it. He grunted loudly as his dick spasmed in her hand several small spurts. At the same time, her body stiffened and she moaned in sudden abandon. They kissed and hugged in the warm afterglow of their mutual orgasms, slowly falling into blissful sleep in each other's arms....

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A distant foghorn woke them up from gentle slumber. They were surprised to see the sun setting in the sky and knew they had to start the final leg of their journey. Getting their clothes together, they slowly walked to a small gate at the periphery of the garden. The owner was a little surprised when he had asked for the key to the gate, yet had reluctantly provided it, along with a small bag of rope. When they had finally arrived at the rusty iron barrier, flanked by tall pine trees, they hesitated for a moment, wondering what lie before them. Then, he quickly unlocked the gate and they meandered down a rarely used path which provided a panoramic view of the distant sea and quiet beach. They stared for a long time at the lapping waves, under a startlingly beautiful setting sun, a whirling wheel of reds, pinks, blues, and purples. Just yesterday they had made a pact with each other, a difficult decision but one they knew in their heart they needed to carry out.

When they reached the edge of the cliff, they revelled in the meticulously edged terraces which slowly yielded to menacing rocks and cloudy water. He faced her suddenly, embracing her with such force their faces crushed together. For the first time that day they spoke to each other, words that no one will ever know. In their moment of climactic rapture, the true meaning of the holidays, and indeed of life, became completely, blindingly evident...LOVE, just LOVE.

They separated agonizingly slowly, aware of the tears streaming down their faces. He picked up the rope and strung it around them like a half completed cocoon, wanting them to be together for the final part of their journey as well. Then, they awkwardly tried to lay on the ground, pulling the rope as tight as possible around them as they faced each other for the last time.

He started to roll first, and she quickly was scooped up and propelled over him. At first the gentle terraces felt like minor scrapes on their bodies. Then, as their pace slowly increased the rocks and hard ground started to poke and bruise. They prayed to a Higher Power, trying to ignore the jolting pain. Finally, a series of sharp, angular boulders stole their consciousness forever...

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The beach was a flurry of activity. Flies, birds, ants, and earthworms all had to check out the very strange object. High on the sandbar, protected from the unforgiving waves were two interlocking human hands, perfectly severed from their respective bodies, which were nowhere in sight.

A large crab came over first, scaring the buzzing flies away. It explored one hand with frail looking legs, running over the gray hairs just below the knuckle. The other hand felt curiously different, much smoother. It had a shiny object around one finger, with a brilliant diamond that shone in the winter sun.

The couple had died as they had lived, two hearts beating together as one...

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Note: A concerned reader wrote that I was encouraging "copycat" suicide pacts by presenting this story as is, a romantic getaway to death. This is a couple in their 80's in constant pain that made a very difficult decision that is right for them. That doesn't mean that suicide is the only choice in a situation such as this and I am certainly not condoning that extreme act. Whenever possible, other medical avenues should be tried to prolong a dignified quality of life.