The Green Thumb’s Secret

The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth as I stepped into The Green Thumb, my favorite greenhouse. Spring had finally arrived, and with it, my annual gardening itch had flared up like a wildfire. At forty-eight, I still felt the same thrill I’d always had when surrounded by nature’s bounty. My shorter blonde hair, now streaked with a few silver strands, framed my face as I pushed open the glass door, the little bell above it chiming softly. The warmth of the greenhouse enveloped me, a stark contrast to the crisp spring morning outside. My green eyes scanned the rows of vibrant plants, their colors a feast for the senses. I was on a mission, armed with a list of ambitious plans for my garden this season.

I wandered through the aisles, running my fingers over the leaves of a particularly lush fern. The plants here were always healthier, larger, and more vibrant than anywhere else. It was almost uncanny. I spotted Mike, a young employee I’d seen around before, watering a row of tomatoes. He was in his early twenties, with a lean build and a mischievous grin that always made me smile. His dark hair was tousled, and his arms were toned from hours of physical labor. I approached him, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Mike, these plants are incredible,” I said, gesturing to the tomatoes. “How do you get them to grow so well? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He paused, his eyes flicking around to ensure no one else was within earshot. “Well, Mrs. Kate,” he said, leaning in closer, “there’s a secret to it.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A secret? Do tell.”

He glanced around again, then whispered, “It’s the fertilizer. We use something special.”

“Special?” I prompted, leaning in as well.

He hesitated, then said, “It’s… well, it’s semen. The guys here, we all contribute. It’s like magic for the plants.”

I froze, my mind struggling to process what he’d just said. “Semen? You’re telling me you use… cum as fertilizer?”

Mike nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, it’s a bit weird, but it works. The plants love it. They grow faster, stronger, healthier.”

I was shocked, but also strangely fascinated. “And… how exactly does that work?”

He shrugged. “It’s got all these nutrients, right? Nitrogen, phosphorus, potassium. Plants thrive on it. Plus, it’s natural. No chemicals.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, a mix of disbelief and amusement bubbling up inside me. “Well, I’ve heard of organic farming, but this is next level.”

Mike grinned. “Exactly. Wanna see?”

Before I could respond, he took my hand and led me toward the back of the greenhouse. My heart raced as we passed through a door marked “Employees Only.” The air back here was warmer, heavier, and the scent of earth and something else—something musky and distinctly male—hung in the air. My cheeks flushed as I realized what that scent was.

We entered a large room filled with pots of soil, each one labeled with a plant’s name. And there, in the center of the room, were several young men—all college students, by the looks of them—sitting on stools, their hands moving rhythmically. My eyes widened as I realized what they were doing. They were masturbating, their cocks in their hands, their faces contorted with concentration. Each man had a pot in front of him, and as they climaxed, they released their semen into the soil.

I stood there, frozen, my mind reeling. This was… surreal. And yet, there was something primal, something raw about it that sent a thrill through me. I felt like an intruder, yet I couldn’t look away.

Mike noticed my shock and smirked. “Told you it was a secret. We only hire young guys for this reason. They’ve got nearly limitless reserves of cum, and it’s the freshest you can get.”

I shook my head, trying to process it all. “This is… incredible. And so wrong. But incredible.”

He laughed, a low, infectious sound. “Yeah, it’s a bit taboo. But hey, it works. And the plants don’t judge.”

I glanced around the room again, taking in the scene. The men were of all different builds and ethnicities, but they shared one thing in common: their cocks were hard, their hands moving with purpose. One guy, a tall, muscular blond, was close to finishing. His hips were thrusting subtly as he stroked himself, his face flushed with arousal. Another, a lean, dark-haired guy, was moaning softly, his eyes closed in pleasure.

“How often do you… do this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“A couple times a week,” Mike replied. “Depends on how many orders we have. The more plants, the more cum we need.”

I nodded, my mind racing. “And… do the customers know?”

He shook his head. “Nope. It’s our little secret. They just know their plants are the best.”

I thought about it for a moment, then said, “I’ll take a dozen tomato plants, a few roses, and some herbs. And… whatever else you recommend.”

Mike grinned. “Coming right up. And don’t worry, they’ll get the full treatment.”

A few days later, the plants arrived at my house. I’d arranged for them to be delivered and planted by the greenhouse staff, curious to see if the rumors were true. As I watched from my kitchen window, a group of young men—Mike among them—unloaded the plants from the truck. They were all wearing tight jeans and loose t-shirts, their youthful energy palpable.

They began planting, their movements efficient and practiced. But as they worked, I noticed something strange. One by one, they started to undo their pants, their hands disappearing into their jeans. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was happening. They were masturbating—right there in my yard.

I felt a flush of heat spread through my body, a mix of shock and arousal. This was… audacious. And yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Mike caught my gaze through the window and winked, a mischievous smile on his face. I stepped back, my cheeks burning, but I couldn’t resist watching.

The men were unapologetic, their hands moving with purpose as they stroked their cocks. One guy, a lean brunet with a piercing, was moaning softly, his head thrown back in pleasure. Another, a muscular redhead, was thrusting his hips subtly as he jerked off, his face contorted with arousal. Mike was watching me, his hand moving slowly, his eyes locked on mine.

I felt a tingle between my legs, a wetness that surprised me. This was wrong—so wrong—but it was also the hottest thing I’d ever seen. These young men, their cocks hard and throbbing, their hands working feverishly as they climaxed, one by one, into the soil around the plants. Their cum, thick and white, mixed with the earth, a primal offering to nature.

As the last man finished, Mike approached the window, his jeans still unbuttoned, his cock semi-hard. He grinned at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “One last fertilization treatment,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Just for you.”

I felt my breath catch in my throat as he started to stroke himself again, his hand moving slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. I watched, transfixed, as his cock grew harder, his balls tightening. And then, with a low groan, he came, his cum shooting out in thick streams, landing on the soil near the roses.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. This was… incredible. And so dirty. So taboo. But I couldn’t deny the heat that had built up inside me, the wetness between my legs that demanded attention.

Mike smirked, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Enjoy your plants, Mrs. Kate. They’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

I nodded, unable to speak, my mind still reeling from what I’d just witnessed. As they loaded their equipment into the truck and drove away, I stepped outside, the scent of earth and cum heavy in the air. I ran my fingers over the leaves of a tomato plant, feeling a strange connection to it, knowing what had gone into its growth.

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d seen. The image of those young men, their cocks in their hands, their faces flushed with pleasure, was burned into my mind. I felt a hunger, a need that I hadn’t felt in years. I slipped my hand between my legs, my fingers finding my wetness easily. As I touched myself, I imagined Mike, his cock hard and throbbing, his hand moving in rhythm with mine. I moaned softly, my hips bucking into my hand as I pictured him coming, his cum shooting out, thick and hot.

I came hard, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm, my juices coating my hand. As I lay there, breathless, I realized something: this was just the beginning. The Green Thumb had awakened something in me—a primal, raw desire that I couldn’t ignore. And I knew, without a doubt, that I’d be back. For more plants. And for more of their secret fertilizer.

The Voyeur’s Secret

I had always found my neighbor, Ben, incredibly attractive. It’s not every day you get to see a handsome young man like him living right next door. I first laid eyes on him when he was just a boy, and over the years, I watched him grow into a man, my interest in him growing alongside his physical transformation. It was hard not to notice the way his body had filled out, his broad shoulders and muscular frame a stark contrast to the skinny kid he once was. And now, at 18, he was a sight to behold.

That particular night, as I was getting ready for bed, something compelled me to glance out of my bedroom window. The moonlight illuminated Ben’s room, his curtains left open, providing me with a clear view of his private sanctuary. There he was, sitting at his desk, his attention seemingly fixed on something on his computer screen. I felt a tingle of excitement as I realized I had the perfect opportunity to indulge in my secret pleasure—watching him.

As I peered through the window, my breath caught in my throat when I noticed his hand moving slowly down towards his crotch. My eyes widened with anticipation as he began to rub himself through his pants, his face contorted in concentration. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, my heart racing with the thrill of witnessing such an intimate act.

Then, in a bold move, Ben stood up and unzipped his pants. My mouth went dry as I saw him reach inside and pull out his cock. It was a beautiful sight—long, thick, and already semi-erect. I bit my lip, suppressing a gasp, as I realized this was the first time I had ever seen him like this. His youthful body, combined with that impressive manhood, was a heady combination.

With slow, deliberate movements, he removed his pants and underwear, revealing his naked form. My eyes feasted on the sight of his firm, round ass as he turned and lay down on his bed, his cock standing proudly erect between his thighs. I felt a familiar warmth between my legs as I watched him settle into a comfortable position, one hand resting on his stomach, the other beginning to stroke his length.

I couldn’t help but mimic his actions, my own hands moving to my breasts, caressing and pinching my nipples through the thin fabric of my nightgown. I imagined it was Ben’s strong hands on my body, his fingers teasing
my sensitive peaks. My other hand drifted down, sliding beneath the gown, finding the dampness that had already begun to pool between my thighs.

As I touched myself, my eyes remained fixed on Ben. He seemed lost in his own world, his hand moving in a steady rhythm up and down his shaft. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, and a soft groan escaped his lips. I imagined the feel of his smooth skin under my fingers, the weight of his balls in my palm, and the taste of his pre-cum on my tongue.

I matched my pace to his, stroking my clit in time with his strokes. I could feel my orgasm building, my breath coming in short gasps as I pictured him thrusting into me, filling me with his youthful vigor. My mind was a blur of erotic thoughts as I watched his hand move faster, his body tensing with the effort. Suddenly, he arched his back, his hips lifting off the bed, and I knew he was close. I held my breath, my fingers working furiously, as I witnessed the first spurt of his release. His cum shot high into the air, a thick white stream that landed on his chest and stomach, painting his skin with its sticky warmth, followed by several more spurts.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. As I watched him climax, my own orgasm washed over me in powerful waves. My fingers worked my clit frantically as I came, my body trembling with the force of my release. I bit down on
my lip to muffle my cries, not wanting to disturb the peaceful night. After a few moments, I opened my eyes to see Ben still lying on his bed, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He reached for some tissues and began to clean himself, his movements slow and satisfied. Then, as if sensing my presence, he turned his head towards my window, his gaze locking with mine.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, we were frozen in time. I saw a mixture of emotions flash across his face—shock, embarrassment, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. I knew he had caught me watching him, and I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. Quickly, I mouthed the words, “Thank you,” my heart pounding in my chest.

Ben’s mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply nodded, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips. I returned the smile, my heart racing, and then, with a final lingering look, I closed my curtains, bringing an end to our silent, yet intensely intimate, encounter.

I lay in bed that night, my body still buzzing with the aftermath of my orgasm. I couldn’t believe what had just transpired between us. It was as if a silent understanding had passed between us in that brief moment of eye contact. I knew I had crossed a line, but the thrill of being caught only added to the excitement. As I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with images of Ben’s naked body, I couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for us. Would he confront me about what he’d seen? Or would he, too, keep this secret, a shared moment of voyeuristic pleasure that would forever bind us together? I smiled to myself, my fingers lingering between my legs, as I imagined the possibilities that lay ahead.