Adventures in Horticulture

The petals took on life of their own. They groped over her skin, feeling her contours and exploring her position. Two of the big, probing flaps felt their way around the soft globes of her ass while the third extended itself behind her tender upper thighs.

The long pistil became even more active. Under the protective tent of the surrounding petals, it slithered and probed over her butt. Lead by the three fat stigma at its tip, it searched over her skin until finding the cleft of her ass. It gently groped the tight groove, extended itself, ever reaching for something it sensed further down.

With the advance of the pistil toward Emily's sex, the broad petal over the back of her thighs pressed its way between them and gently forced her knees apart. Gaining access, it wrapped itself over her mound and up beyond her waist. The other two petals accommodated the advance by releasing her hips and reacquiring a firm clasp around her butt cheeks.

With her entire crotch in the plant's embrace, the pistil was in position to engage her. More of its slippery sap was applied within its almost watertight clench about her muff. She was aware of only a slight clumsy fumbling around her soggy, imprisoned gash but once the relentlessly groping fingers of the stigma had found the opening to her snug crevice there was no doubt in Emily's mind she was being entered and her heart thrilled at the promise. The pistil penetrated her slowly, but steadily. Its firm but pliant phallus moved into her, following her contours and expanding outward to contact every untouched pore of her vagina. Her yearning to be filled was at last satisfied and her fluttering cooze finally had something to clench against.

Pushing in all the way to the back of her canal, the busy fingers at the tip began feeling around in the cramped limits of Emily's pussy. They finally settled around the rounded bulge of her cervical os. They spread out until the membrane between them formed a cup centered over her uterus mound.

She was quite delirious with the constant pleasure of her fragrance-induced orgasms, but with the sturdy stem of plant pressed firmly up her quim and the snug embrace around her butt Emily might have thought her rapture to be complete. That was when the petals wrapped around her mounted a steady pull and release action that sent the entire encounter to a new level. As the petals pulled inward, they drove the pistil into her. As they released the pistil drew back out slightly with a light suck on her uterine bulge. She was getting a nice rhythmical humping motion to go along with her penetration and with that, she lost all control. With her face buried among the lush leaves, she began moaning her delight every bit like a woman being passionately ravaged.

On and on the big flower pumped and sucked at Emily's pussy, fueling in her the psychedelic mind-trip of extreme gratification. The huge petals gripped her fiercely and the pool of gooey sap sloshed around her crotch as the pistil impelled into her. Her moans of delight gradually got weaker until they were merely a fickle coo and whimper. She was becoming oblivious to everything but the intense pleasure and whatever true use the plant was making of her sex was a happily discarded trifle. With her body surrendered, Emily's mind drifted deeper into an opiate delirium of sexual delights, until at last, she reached her absolute limit of endurance and lapsed into unconsciousness. Her arms crumpled beneath her and her knees slid out behind her. Her torso dropped onto the soft moss and her head pulled free of the stamen's perfume. Unrelenting in its embrace, the big flower still worked on her captured sex. In the firm grasp of the thick petals, her hips were still held aloft and a sickening gurgle accompanied the slow draw and thrust of the flower against her helpless body. Emily's mind drifted through a paradise of pleasure with an army of lovers servicing her every desire.

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The first thing Emily noticed was a chill. She instinctively searched about her for the covers. Failing to find any, her eyes blinked open as her mind tried to piece together what was wrong. All she could make out was that it was dark and whatever was underneath her did not feel like her bed linen. With a shriek, she bolted upright when she realized she was lying nude on the mossy ground inside Prof. Masterson's greenhouse. She sprang to her knees and groped around herself looking for her glasses and something to cover up with. Wild notions spun through her confused mind but nothing fit as to how she had lost her clothes or her consciousness. Her fingers sporadically came across scattered articles of clothing and some fragment of her scattered memory told her to look for her glasses on the lounge chair.

She put them on and then climbed up weakly to sit in the chair. Images were coming to her; recollections of sensations and bizarre notions began to trouble her. At the base of all these thoughts, the conclusion began to form that she had been in something sexual and it somehow involved that big, weird flower. Oh, no! She really had! Lust had gotten the best of her, again!

Trembling and filled with a sudden embarrassment and panic, she snatched up her clothes from the floor as if she had found herself sitting before a hundred shocked witnesses. Clutching them tight to her nakedness, she bolted to the sliding glass door, threw it open, and hopped into the study. She spun around and looked into the greenhouse gloom as the full realization of her afternoon exploits bloomed within her mind.

"Emily?" she hailed herself after an apprehensive self-evaluation, "You fucked a plant." She bit her lip as she stared out at the strange bulb-thing in the corner of the arboretum. The tall flower stood out from the darkness and appeared quite above reproach, as if it would never in a hundred years screw any girl silly. She rebuked herself in her mind for her waywardness, though, she had to admit it was not her fault; the professor's shrubbery had quite honestly seduced her. Professor Masterson! What would she say when she found out Emily had sexually abused her foliage! No wonder she had been warned not to stay in there so long. How embarrassing it would be for the professor to find her out.

Emily had to fix this. She had to erase the evidence and make it look like nothing had happened. Her hands trembled as she quickly pulled her clothes back on. Her mind went over all the details she needed to check to disguise her shameful rut with the amorous blossom. She found that the more she thought about it, the more details of what transpired became clear. Memories of the intense pleasure and the erotic delights awoke in her. She pushed those thoughts aside and steeled herself for the task at hand.

She took a deep breath and forged back into the greenhouse. She needed to work fast before she succumbed to the plant's chemistry again. She tossed the book onto the lounger and then fell to her knees to comb the moss to where it did not look like someone had been lying on it. She was astounded to see that the plant's huge blossom and the stamens around its base had all closed themselves and were looking ironically non-sexual. She quickly swept the tiles with her hands to erase any telltale prints and felt confident she had done a fair job. Fair enough until she could check it over in the daylight. She wheeled the chair back to its place by the door, snatched back her book, and slipped inside.

'That would have to do,' she thought. She stood in the doorway watching the plant. She felt safe back indoors; where she could think about the utterly stupefying joy she had felt with that incredibly sensual flower. She doubted if she had ever experienced such erotic pleasure in her life. Then questions began to form. Was she an unwitting agent in the plant's reproductive process? In its nutritional needs? Where did old Dr. Masterson get such a thing? What was she doing with it in her home? How did she know it was 'disruptive to your constitution'? Why did she keep a lounge chair in her greenhouse? Maybe Emily did not have as much to be ashamed of as she thought.

Feeling a little braver, she ventured back into the arboretum and strolled slowly up to the odd plant in the corner. She stood at its base just underneath the big bulb folded her arms and stared at it with a thoughtful frown. She wondered what her life would be like if she had one of these. For that matter, what would life be like if every woman had one of these? She thought of the ridiculousness of being afraid of a horny houseplant. She almost had to laugh at herself. With one arm akimbo, Emily shook a finger at the big bulb in a mock scolding manner and said, "Naughty, naughty!"

The carbon dioxide she emitted must have triggered something in the plant again. She heard a feint cracking sound and glanced down to see one of the stamens at the base opening up. She gasped and scrambled back to the safety of the door. Pausing in thought, she stood in the doorway and looked back at her ravager. A smile slowly spread across her face and she spoke in a somewhat sweet, sexy voice, "You be good 'till I come back." She blew it a kiss and closed the door.