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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Latex Bloom - 2
by Cordelia Speedicut (cordelia_speedicut@hotmail.com)
***
A girl is introduced to her explorer aunt's newest
specimen - an unknown tropical plant that proves to
have a unique and symbiotic life cycle. Stimulating and
occasionally humorous complications result. (ff-teens,
exh, 1st, mast, fantasy, preg)
***
Finally, Megan and Auntie Anne arrived to take me away
for the summer. As soon as I saw them, I recognized the
symptoms - the gunslinger walk, the flushed faces and
bright eyes, and the bottled sexual tension. And the
same odd wardrobe - long skirts and long loose tops.
'God,' I thought, 'I must look just like that'. They
only stayed long enough for a cup of tea, with the
excuse that we still had a two-hour drive ahead of us.
Even then, I was sure I saw Megan come once, right
there at the table, and my Aunt was in the bathroom
much longer than should have been strictly necessary.
I made mom promise to water Antonio (he was my first -
I had to call him something) and soon we were off down
the highway, with me in the back with Megan. She and I
shared a long hug, which, given our high level of
excitation, was naturally followed by a rather wet
kiss. Then I pulled free and asked my burning question.
"What the hell is going on?"
"The plants I brought from the Amazon - it seems this
is how they reproduce," said Auntie Anne.
I had pretty well guessed as much, but I was still
alarmed to hear my fears confirmed. "You mean they've
planted seeds in us?"
"Not exactly. We've only seen male flowers."
"Flowers have sex?"
"These ones sure do," giggled Megan. She had already
shed her baggy shirt, and her hard nipples stood out
like pencil erasers. I slid down in my seat and quickly
followed suit. I wanted to throw my sweatshirt out the
window.
Auntie Anne continued, patiently. "The flowers had no
stamens - those are the female bits. So what they put
inside us must be pollen. Sort of like plant sperm. I
think they use our eggs to help make... whatever it is
that's growing in us."
I got a sudden nasty chill. "Like in 'Alien'?"
"No, no. I don't think so. Those Amazonian Indians I
met seem to almost worship this plant. It's extremely
rare. They were very happy I'd found them some. The new
growth is probably sustained largely by nutrients in
the plant's ejaculate."
I looked expectantly to Meg, who translated. "She
means, whatever's in here" - she patted her own
slightly swollen bare belly - "is fuelled by flower
jism."
"And the dildo thing?" I refrained from calling it my
cock, which is what it now felt like.
"Now that really is interesting," said Auntie, warming
to the topic. "I think the plant and the slug are
symbiotic. It may be a kind of slime mould."
"Ugg!" I lifted my skirt to give my own slug a hard
stare. It seemed to know I was looking, and slid inside
me as far as it could manage. "Oof," I added, as it
started to wriggle deep inside me.
"The thing is, they need each other," explained Auntie.
"The slug gets a nice warm place to live and plenty to
eat."
"Excuse me?"
"It most likely absorbs vaginal secretions."
I turned to Meg, again. "Mamma thinks it lives on pussy
juices. That's why we don't explode," she snickered.
"As I was saying, the slug gets what it needs, thanks
to the help of the plant, and in return it stimulates
us to produce the right levels of hormones in our
bodies, which the baby plant somehow needs. I suspect
the slug passes its spores along to the new plant."
The stimulation from my own needy dildo (it might be
slippery but I refused to think of it as a slimy slug)
was making my bum squirm in my seat, and Megan leaned
down close to my pussy to get a closer look at it. The
heat of her gaze added fuel to the fire and I knew I
was going to come soon. Meg knew it, too, and began to
suck gently on my rock hard clit.
I had never before done, or thought about doing,
anything sexual with Meg, or any other girl (or even
boys, much)... at least, not until three weeks before.
But now, like the kisses, it just seemed natural. And,
at that moment, it came none too soon. As the long
postponed orgasm swept over me, I let out a long wail.
The car swerved violently, throwing up a plume of dust
as it came to a halt by the side of the road.
"For God's sake," exclaimed Auntie Anne. "It's all I
can do to drive as it is!"
We girls waited in the back seat, hunched down to hide
our nakedness (our long skirts having also been shed in
the last few minutes). Cars flew steadily past, while
Auntie frigged herself over the edge. "Yes! Yes!!
YES!!!"
When we climbed out of the car at our destination, Meg
and I had a stretch in the driveway, wearing only our
sweatshirts, which drooped over our bums. Auntie Anne,
who had been trying desperately to block the erotic
sensations in order to drive, hustled into the house.
As soon as the door closed, we heard a muffled shriek
as her orgasm took hold. She had done the same thing at
several rest stops along the way. Meg and I both
giggled. We'd groped each other steadily and had each
come umpteen times since we'd left the coast, although
after that first time we were as discreet as possible,
so as not to further upset Auntie.
Megan said, "Let's get inside, too. I can't wait to
show you a sixty-nine."
"What's a sixty... Oh!" Sometimes I can be a quick
study.
"There's something else we found out about the dildos.
Mamma said I could show you when we got home."
She led me by the hand into Auntie's big bedroom. Once
there, she flung off her shirt, and I did the same.
"That feels way better," she said. She pulled me close,
so that our tits and bellies were pressed together, and
we shared an open mouthed, tongue wrestling kiss.
When we came up for air, Meg said, "OK, the thing is,
when the dildos touch each other, they can join
together into one big one."
Startled, I realized that it had already happened. We
were standing face to face, and, when I leaned back, I
could see that we were now linked at the pussy by a
single flexible red rod.
I shifted slightly, and gasped. I could now feel the
entire surface of the combined slug creature, from
where it was pressed against Meg's womb, deep inside
her pussy, across to where the other end was diddling
mine - and all the bits in between. This was going to
be good.
It was better. Megan demonstrated how we could work out
on the double-sized creature between us, humping on it
until we had swallowed it all up, and then grind
together, clit on clit. Or, we could twist our lithe
young bodies around (if I do say it), and play spoon-
wise or tail-to-tail... as long as we left enough slack
between us, and remembered to unwind. All the while,
the dildo continued to do its own thing, as well -
shifting alternately from hard to pliable, and forming
tendrils to titillate us, inside and out. My personal
favourite was when we took turns riding astride each
other. It didn't matter how wild we got - it wasn't
like it could ever pop out.
There was another thing Megan let me discover for
myself, which I did not long after we began. Not only
could I feel everything our shared blob touched... when
Meg came, I could feel that too, a sort of blast of
pleasure that pulsed through our link. Wow!
Afterwards, spent, we lay together side by side with a
loop of the red dildo still joining us at the pussy.
"What happens now?" I asked. I could tell that Megan
and her mother had investigated the subject
extensively.
"Mmm," said my cousin, sated. "They always wait until
we're asleep to split apart. Can't do this if you're in
a rush to go somewhere."
"Now you tell me," I said with a giggle. There was a
pause while I yawned, and then I added, "Need a nap
now, anyway."
When I woke, it was to the insistent tickling of my
dildo. As Meg had promised, it had parted company with
hers. She was still asleep, laying on her back in all
her bare glory. I was admiring the view when I heard a
sound, and turned to find that Auntie Anne was there.
She too was naked, standing with her back to the bed
and fiddling with the blinds. It occurred to me that I
had never seen either my cousin or my aunt unclothed
before today. The athletic woman was beautiful in the
dappled sunlight. With a start, I realized she had that
glow I had associated with pregnant women - which, of
course, is what we now all were.
"Ah. You're awake," she said, turning to stand in front
of the bed, her shapely legs set wide apart. I could
see the nubbin of her dildo, red like the Meg's, and
mine. Her clit stood out prominently above it. She was
obviously horny - hell, I thought, we all are, all the
time.
"Auntie?"
"Call me Anne. Feeling refreshed?"
I nodded and smiled. Anne climbed onto the bed to
straddle me, and then lowered herself slowly until our
two dildos touched. The things flowed together like
mercury. Then it was away to the races. Our bouncing
and rutting quickly woke Megan, who cheered us on.
Briefly sated after several orgasms each, we stopped
for breath. We managed to re-arrange ourselves
relatively comfortably, so that we were sitting face to
face with stacks of pillows for support. It had just
occurred to me that I was famished, when Megan padded
in the door with a heaped up plate full of finger-food.
After we demolished the food, Megan climbed on the bed
and stood astride the exposed stretch of red shaft that
linked her mother and I. Her own dildo was hanging to
within inches of it. "What do you think?" she asked.
"Go for it," answered Anne.
Meg squatted down slightly and touched her slug to our
combined one. Sure enough, all three seemed to melt
together.
"Goodness," I said. I had heard the term 'three-way'
before, but I was pretty sure it didn't refer to three
ladies bound together by their pussies.
The resultant romp was a tangle of limbs and bodies all
writhing in a great sweaty heap. Several times I
giggled to find my self smooching my own skin. It was
impossible to maintain any sort of rhythm, but it
didn't matter: our three-headed mega-slug was pumping
us all to most satisfactory heights. And 'multiple
orgasms' doesn't begin to describe what it was like to
feel your partners' peaks mingle with your own.
The tricky bit was afterward, since we were still
locked together in an untidy ball; however, we were so
worn from our exertions that sleep came quickly enough.
When I woke, Megan was lying on top of me. A foot to
the left and we would be re-connected. I squirmed aside
just in time. Not that I minded, but Meg had said it
was a challenge to have a pee in that condition.
Apparently it called for a co-ordinated two-step to get
to the bathroom and step into the bathtub, where both
parties could pee and shower. I couldn't even imagine
how to coordinate a trio-hop into the tub (I found out
the next day. We should have sold tickets.)
That evening, the three of us made a major expedition
to the grocery store to lay in a pile of food. When we
got home, we stripped off again, in relief, and for the
next six weeks we never went out of the yard and never
put on a stitch of clothing.
Anne and Meg had already fixed up the house by turning
the heat up and the dehumidifier off until it was
almost as tropical as the greenhouse, and by closing
the front blinds for privacy. The deck was also out of
sight, being tucked into a space between the kitchen
and the garage; so the only exposed place was the back
yard. We would march across to the greenhouse,
regardless, even Anne giggling like a naughty
schoolgirl. We spent a lot of time out there, tending
our plants.
More even than gardening, we liked to eat, or to take
long steamy showers. And we liked to read or sleep on
the sunny deck. But most of all, of course, we liked to
fuck. Anywhere, anytime. We were always at a fever
pitch of arousal, anyway, but our dildos were expert at
leaving us on the edge. We would eventually be rewarded
by wonderfully explosive orgasms, but often we just
couldn't wait. The flow of kisses and caresses and soft
skin and hair was perfect to smooth out the roller
coasters of passion.
The whole odd experience brought the three of us
together, to become sisters and lovers. We all shared
one bed, and spent a remarkable amount of time on it,
writhing together in ecstasy. At the same time our
dildos would loop and twist, caressing the nearest
nipple or seeking an unoccupied hole to penetrate.
Eventually, they would merge, locking us all together
until exhaustion and sleep released us.
Basically, we spent our days in a fog of lust. Auntie
told us this wasn't actually normal, no matter how much
stimulation we were receiving. (What did we know?) She
reckoned as how the slugs were secreting some sort of
drug that was making us perpetually horny. She also
figured the stuff would be worth a fortune if she ever
figured out what it was.
The early morning was when we could think clearest.
Around the middle of July, seven weeks after being
knocked up by the flowers, I woke up to find my head
pillowed on Megan's growing tits and my arm sprawled
over her very swollen belly. I probed a bit with my
fingers, and she stirred.
"Meg - you've got a bunch of hard lumps in there."
She reached over and explored my own expanded tummy
with her dildo-beastie, its tip divided into
fingerlets. "Well, so do you," she said, and then she
slid the thing down to tease my clit.
"But - what..." I was starting to loose focus.
"Seeds of some sort," said Anne from close behind me.
"We've each got six or eight, maybe more. It's hard to
tell for sure. Not to worry."
It was good to hear that Anne so positive that things
would turn out all right, but it still seemed a bit
creepy. However, what with my first orgasm of the day
building, I soon forgot about it.
Over time, our dildos were growing ever bigger, too.
Now when my dildo tried to suck itself up into my body,
I could see (by craning to see over my tummy) that it
got so scrunched up that it stretched my pussy four or
five inches wide. Even then, there was a lot left over.
By this point, my inner muscles were strong enough to
squeeze it back out like bright red tooth paste - if I
wanted.
On the other hand, when I stood up, it would often
stretch so far as to swing down between my knees, or
sometimes loop up to caress my belly and tits - or
somebody else's.
As the summer wore on, we spent more and more time
sunning ourselves on the back deck. We still had the
odd fuck session together; but mostly, we would just
lie on our lounges, each of us lost in her sensations,
murmuring in her lust. Occasionally we would roll over
to bake one or the other side - our bellies were now
much too big for us to lay face down comfortably. By
early August it was warm enough to stay outside through
the night, too. Once in a while, one or another of us
would wander into the kitchen for a snack (Anne had
rigged a garden hose for water) or go for a pee -
although we seemed to need to do either less and less.
One afternoon, Anne, ever the botanist, asked me, "Do I
look a bit green to you?"
I raised my head. "Nah - nice tan, though. Mmm. Great
tits, too."
"Thanks. Under the tan, though. Definitely greenish."
She went back to sleep.
Later, she tried again. "Meg, you hungry?"
"Nahh."
"Only, when did you eat last?"
"Wahzat? Ahh, God! Yes! Yes! Um, dunno. Yesterday,
maybe? What day is it?"
"No idea. But... oh... oh! Ohhh! Mmmm. What was I
saying? It's just I don't think I've eaten anything for
maybe three or four days."
"So - you hungry?"
"No," she answered, dreamily. "Ahh, yeah, that's sooo
nice!" She was quiet for a time, and then said, lazily,
"It's the Chlorophyll, prob'ly."
A few days later, I woke up with a start. I was still
on my lounge chair. It was daylight, but I had no idea
what time of day it was, much less what day. There it
was again - something moved inside me. I knew babies
did that, but seeds? I wondered what was happening, but
the sensation stopped, and fresh ones began as my slug-
buddy began to do its thing. Lovely.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew,
it was early evening (the same day?) and this time I
definitely felt something odd happening. I lifted up,
trying to see over my swollen belly. My dildo was gone
- vanished. Instead, there was a white tendril, about
three inches long, peeking from between my pussy lips.
Where it left my body it was the thickness of my thumb,
and it tapered gradually to a point. It also had tiny
hairs along its length that tickled my pussy as it
passed.
As it passed, I stared at the apparition, and realized
that it was moving as I watched. Finally my mind fell
into gear. The thing was a root, and it was now sliding
out of me, undoubtedly in search of a place to plant
itself. Anne had theorized that something like this
would likely happen.
Before I knew it, twelve inches worth was wiggling
between my knees, and I struggled to my feet and looked
around. Anne was nowhere to be seen, but Megan was
stirring on her own lounge chair, her legs open to
straddle her seat and her feet on the deck. She too had
a long white root creeping out of her pussy.
I felt a firm twitch inside. "Ouch. Meg - wake up," I
hissed.
Megan drowsily opened her eyes.
"Guess what," I said. "It's started." I tried to think.
Pots - the greenhouse! Just in case, Anne had left a
row of pots waiting out there. I hustled as fast as I
was able toward the edge of the deck, but got no
further than a nearby planter. The white root whipped
frantically over toward the moist earth, so I stepped
astride the narrow box and squatted a little. As soon
as the thing touched the soil, it dug down into its new
home. I found myself being dragged down by my pussy
until my bottom was kissing the cool earth.
Suddenly, after all that had happened, I was very near
panic. Here I was, quite literally rooted to the spot -
was Anne right, or was I turning into some kind of
plant?
In very short order, Megan found herself crouched
facing me, rooted to the planter in the same way. Her
hands were on her big belly, her eyes open wide.
"Mamma!"
"In here, Meg," Anne called back, from the kitchen. "I
was getting the camera and got caught short." We could
just see her through the patio doors, squatting over a
potted fern. If I hadn't been so scared, I would have
laughed out loud. Anne had for weeks been taking
pictures of the plants, our slugs, and our responses to
their stimulation - recording our experiences, she told
us, in case she could someday still be able to submit a
paper on her discovery.
I fervently hoped the front page wouldn't be a photo of
three big shrubberies in a back yard, one of which had
a camera stuck in the top branches.
Is if reading my thoughts, Anne called, "Don't worry!"
I couldn't imagine why not, but before I could think of
anything to say, I felt my belly contract. I winced.
"Now what?"
There seemed to be no answer to that. It looked like we
were about to give birth, just as Anne had predicted.
But how, and to what, remained to be seen. Meg and I
stared at each other helplessly for a few minutes.
Nothing more happened, but we could hear unsettling
gasps coming from inside the house.
And then I had another, stronger, contraction. At the
same time something shifted inside my womb, and I felt
a tug on the root that passed inside of me. I breathed
heavily, and every few minutes yet another contraction
gripped me. Each time, my body pushed. By now, Megan
was doing the same. We were both sweating, and making
the same gasps and grunts as were coming from Anne. For
the next half hour, we laboured on.
At last, after a great push, I forced from my stretched
pussy a leathery brown seed pod, the size of a
grapefruit and covered with my slippery inner juices.
It landed solidly between my feet. I grunted in relief
and satisfaction, and then watched in amazement as it
shook and twisted - its taproot was dragging it down
into the loosened soil. I didn't even register the fact
that a second pale root had started to slide out of my
body until it was too late. Crap! Once more I found
myself rooted to the ground. I sank back down at the
thing's pull, and again I found myself pushing and
puffing as my contractions resumed. I tried to decide
exactly how many lumps I had felt when prodding my
belly. Six? Eight? Enough to keep me sprogging seeds
for some time.
Megan soon dropped a big seed of her own into the
planter, and like me she was quickly re-rooted, having
been distracted by the sight of her naked mother
waddling determinedly across the deck in the direction
of the greenhouse. There was already a fresh white root
swinging between Anne's thighs, and it actually snaked
out ahead of her to the lawn at the edge of the deck.
With a resigned sigh, she stepped over it and let it
draw her down until her pussy was pressed to the grass.
Happily, I found my second seed came free of me a bit
more easily than the first one had. When it dropped, I
stood and stretched my stiff back and legs. Even as I
did so, I could feel yet another root emerging between
my legs. Meg was on her feet now, too, but Anne was
still hunched over the lawn. Looking over her shoulder,
she said, "This may take a while - it's having trouble
digging into this hard ground. Best you girls keep to
the garden beds."
I took her word for it and hobbled straight for the
flowers at the edge of the house. Meg, who was likewise
decorated with her third root, did the same, but picked
a spot on the other side of her sweating mother. We
were both quickly anchored among the begonias, focusing
on our straining bellies.
And so the three of us slowly made a peculiar
progression across the back yard, each determined to
reach the greenhouse. Our paths zigzagged from one
flowerbed to the next, as, one at a time, fresh shoots
kept on emerging from our pussies in search of a home.
I planted my fourth under a lilac bush, and then made
it all the way to a decorative cherry tree in the
middle of the yard before I felt the next yank on my
womb. Once again I was tugged back down to a squat.
I braced myself against the trunk of the little tree
and looked around. Anne had nearly made it to the
greenhouse - she was crouching in a patch of tulips by
the door, where another powerful root had stopped any
further progress. Meanwhile, Megan was hunched over in
the rockery. Beyond her, over the fence, I saw our
nosey old neighbour, Mister Whippet, watching us from
his porch. Oddly, he didn't seem to be reacting to the
bizarre scene. His eyesight must be terrible, I
thought. I winced at the next contraction, and then
gave the man a friendly wave. "Just out here
gardening," I muttered. I glanced back at Megan, who
was closest to the fence. My friend's green-tinted tan
made her hard to see among the Rhododendrons. Whippet
probably hadn't noticed her at all.
Another contraction gripped my now shrinking belly, and
I had to pay attention to my own situation. I finally
forced another big seed out of my body to land with a
wet thud at my feet. After a brief inspection to see
that it was healthy, I hurried to continue my journey
to the greenhouse. Two more stops were necessary, both
spent sitting among some roses in plain view of our
neighbour, and then I was in the shelter of the
greenhouse. Anne was already there, rooted to one of
the pots she had specially prepared for the blessed
event. She had already seeded several others, nearby.
I hustled over to a free pot and sat my sore pussy down
on it, but I felt no more contractions. It just
figures, I thought, but to be sure, I waited there for
a bit. To pass the time, I examined one of Anne's seeds
in the pot next to me. The root had managed to pull the
big seed right into the loose soil, and a pale green
shoot had already appeared to mark the spot.
Megan finally stumbled in to join us, and plopped a
long writhing tendril into a waiting pot. That proved
to be her last, and so fifteen minutes later, Anne and
I, who were both now done, helped her to her feet.
I felt completely spent, but, as we hoisted Megan up, I
started to laugh. The whole thing had been so absurd,
and now it was done. I laughed until I wept, and the
others joined in. When we were all quite sure we had
finished our labours, we joined in a group hug.
"Did you see old man Whippet?" I gasped.
"Ha! You should have seen your own face!" Meg wheezed,
the tears streaming.
When we had recovered slightly, we hosed each other
down with cool water. Feeling refreshed, we then
stepped out the door and threw ourselves down to lay
right out on the lawn, drying in the cool evening
breeze... Mister Whippet be damned.
After we had rested, we dug up all the little plants we
had deposited around the yard and transferred them into
the greenhouse. The one inside the house we left - it
would be happy enough there.
The rest of the summer was anticlimactic – we dragged
Auntie's exercise stuff out onto the deck and worked on
restoring our muscle tone. Our shapely figures soon
returned, with only a minimal amount of extra fat and
stretch marks from our strange pregnancies. And – bonus
– Meg and I now sported significantly enhanced
knockers.
We still slept in the same bed together, and continued
to indulge in gentle sessions of sex. The flavour was
different now – the intensity was less and the intimacy
was greater – but it was just as satisfying. At the
same time, we resumed some of our old interests. Anne
managed to get in some research and Meg and I finally
made it to the mall.
We also continued to spent time just soaking up the
sun, although our green tinting faded away. We needed
the rest – overall, our carnal summer had been
exhausting.
When they took me back to the coast at the beginning of
September, in time for school, I carried along one of
my seedlings. "For your mother," said Anne, giving me a
lingering goodbye kiss. "See you at Christmas."
Continued in part 3...
Note - Having enjoyed 'Late Bloomer' by Dragonfly and
the 2002 remake 'Latex Flower' by Erwin Stevens, I
thought I would take the liberty of expanding the core
plot of the former and recruiting the cast from the
latter to cobble together my own adaptation. CS
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 44