C. Nymphitus

New York City. 1986.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

With the soggy cardboard box about to give, she placed it on her kitchen counter top and dropped her keys. A finger managed to swipe the answering machine and she worked extra hard to get out of her drenched trench coat.

"This is Rebecca Stevens. Leave a message after the beep."

The small botanist bodega wasn't on her agenda, but she had some time after work. A small, older lady had talked up an admittedly strange, pink mystery and it didn't take her long to be swayed and jog it home in the pouring rain.

Rebecca strolled through the living room of her dainty New York apartment in nothing but a fresh pair of panties, black and lace. She slicked her wet hair back with her bare chest bouncing about, a pleasure to the old disabled neighbor across the alley way. He was harmless and she did not care about what he saw.

With an easy push, the weak cardboard fell apart at the corners and the fat top was revealed. She pulled her glasses from the counter and only now realized how phallic the thing was. The thick, bluish stem was topped with a pink and white mushroom crown and speckled in red. A clear, thick fluid had beaded up at the very tip where a tiny slit resided. With a smile, she just assumed there were two bulbs underneath the soil, at this point.

The woman had mentioned how fragrant it was and it filled her nostrils with a sweet citrus-like aroma that reminded her of kiwi. Her eyes closed and she palmed the counter with a long, drawn out sigh. It was a monstrous hit to her senses and she shivered head to toe, shaking her head. She cleared her throat and scratched the top of her scalp, confused. "Okay then."

Absent-mindedly, she removed the bead from the tip and smeared it across her tongue before she headed towards the living room. Tomorrow was the last workday of the week and it was already late but a sudden arousal started to overtake her hunger. Thoughts of fruits, veggies, meat, nice dicks, balls, wine, muscles, being full, hair pulling and mouth slurping bounced around her fuzzy brain.

Could she do both? Being aroused at this time of night hadn't been a thing--usually--but she flipped through the day and didn't remember any co-worker interaction that would bring her to the couch with hands roaming her panties. Something she saw? Not really. Something during the week? No. Yet, that is what happened and all control was relinquished.

The rain beat heavy on her open window. Fuck, she thought. The blinds were still up. Her legs shimmied in a frenzy and she pouted, not wanting to get up. He couldn't see through that downpour, she figured. After a glance or two, she could no longer care and her breaths became ragged.

On her back and arched, her unrelenting wetness spilled profusely between her cheeks. Within a minute, her moans were out of control and she realized she never made it into the soft lace. Her knuckles were white with tension, both hands using what strength she had not to fall from the couch. It was a freight train of pleasure and she struggled with her sanity and overall consciousness before the brain resorted to a full scale black out, leaving her motionless.

****

The sun beams fought with her blinds but eventually it was enough to awaken her. She lightly smacked her dry, stuck lips and didn't move otherwise. Sleep encrusted eyes lazily moped about the bright living room until she spotted her watch, then the engine finally started to warm up: she never slept in her Datejust. She never slept on the floor. That's right, she thought. That orgasm out of nowhere left her paralyzed until she fell from the couch. How was that possible?

Panic overwhelmed her but with a turn of the wrist, the silver and gold Rolex tilted and she wasn't just late for work: the shift had just ended. Fuck. After she made her way up to the coffee table, she found the blinking '14' coming from her answering machine. Oh yeah, somebody was mad. That somebody had considerable leverage against her after she was caught with a new, cute intern after hours.

The pearls slapped her chest and his hands spanked her cheeks. That's what her boss saw before they made eye contact that day. Fortunately, the twenty one year old young meat was hypnotized by Rebecca's delicious backside because he never noticed their cover had been blown. He was too busy trying not to nut a pint into the gorgeous Chief Loan Officer.

Rebecca knew that if her presentation wasn't perfect and her effort wasn't 120%, he would go hoarse from ripping her ass a new one. They were left alone and after her hair was snatched for a minute long pounding for the ages, she was dropped to the table, ass blanketed in hot white. The young buck struggled to stay up right and admired those heavenly buns he just glazed like a strudel.

But it was four in the afternoon and her blunder of the year was sidelined by the intense gaze she had for her new plant--thing. The aroma electrified her nasal passages and she felt a strong heat in her lungs. She blacked out, but she wasn't oblivious. At the time, there was nothing she could do. What did you do to me? She stood there, disheveled and hair a mess. There was an involuntary lick of the lips the moment she saw the trickle down of thickened fluid from the side of the crown. It was gooey, stringy and dangled just above the potted soil.

Where was the rational thought now? Bent at the waist, Rebecca's thighs came together tightly in an attempt to curb the incessant quivering just behind her damp panties. Face to face with the big mystery had her eyelids partially covering those curious blues. She wanted more. Dopamine invaded her system with no limit switch.

A moan shot out with her tongue and the hanging tendril was caught. Pursed lips hit the mushy side, smearing the sweet nectar before it immediately poured generous globs towards her thirsty mouth. She opened for the ample flow, eyelids fluttering and eyes sparkling with desire. The thick sweetness continuously pumped, sliding down the tongue and seamlessly down her throat. Suddenly, her back arched and her knees buckled into the cabinet.

Rebecca winced and palmed the counter top. The ability to stand evaporated in an instant but she growled in protest, surrounding the entire head with her inundated mouth. The ascension to the top of her company branch was most memorable to the select few that were on the receiving end of those gorgeous, plump lips.

Carefully but passionately, the crown slurped in and out. With ass high and defiant from the thunderstorm rocking her insides, she graciously bobbed her hair to and from the marble top while swallowing heaps of spurting syrup. It was impossible to tell if she was successfully dominating the thing or if it simply let her stay up right to continue being milked. Both beings seemed to be in a synergy that benefited one another.

The feeling of her hot fluid streaming down her legs and through her toes was a first that she had to ignore, desperate to conquer whatever this thing was.

And she thought she did.

Rebecca's lips touched the dirt and the gooey top was lodged deep into her balmy throat. As evolution would have it, this was where it wanted to be, swifty expanding to bulge her neck and shove her tonsils aside. Her eyeballs sunk to the back of her skull and a monstrous wave of heat scattered her insides. Even if she wanted to pull away, she couldn't. The stem had its tiny, tiny hairs that prevented her escape.

Head to toe, she shuddered from the next syrupy explosion. Knees buckled again, forcing her to regain her stance. The pitter patter of her feet into her own puddle of pleasure almost made her fall in the slippery mess. A deluge gushed towards her belly and she started to slump forward, arms weak and wobbly. It only took one more burst for her body to give. It wrestled its way from her hot, sweaty body, leaving a swathe of goop to pour from her droopy lips. Rebecca slumped to her knees, nothing left and fell onto her back for a second black out.

****

Ten hours later, she was curled up on the couch with a bottle of wine; no glass, didn't need it. On her lavish coffee table was her new friend and it took will power and more to keep her from succumbing to its potent draw. She had to figure this out by Monday.

"I can't black out every time we do this." She chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. "I'm talking to a fucking plant and I wish this bitch would answer the phone. Christ."

Three attempts were made but the lady who sold her this--thing--didn't pick up. "Becky again. Could you please give me a call when you're available? Would like to discuss my latest purchase. Thank you."

"Fuck," she said, slamming the antenna into the phone. One look towards the plant and it's gooey top made her clinch her thighs together. "Don't even," she whispered with a gentle moan.

Suddenly, she popped up, grabbed the pot and shoved it into a cabinet. The saliva was pushed away by her hand and she continued to drool even after slamming her bedroom door, bathroom door and jumping into the shower.

Steam filled the room, hot water now blasting her twitching body. Cheek pressed into the wall, she convulsed, eyes in the back of her skull. The struggle to stay vertical was immense. Thoughts raced. She didn't taste or touch--but swallowed, yesterday. Shit. Oh, shit. The intoxication had been so strong that she never thought about the consequences. How or when could she? Now she was fully aware, unable to comprehend what was taking place deep in her core.

Scared blue eyes rolled back over only to see an infinite cosmic ocean. She shivered under the steaming water, struggling to wrap her primitive brain around the abstract visuals warping her sense of reality. Big beautiful stars, nebulas and a vicious, heart stopping black hole just to her left. The bright red accretion disk swirled violently and her gaze became fixated on the unimaginable darkness from the singularity. It tore apart the millions of suns like it tore apart her mind: easily.

Hard, breathy moans escalated into the expanse, echoing out before disappearing forever. The removable shower head was nestled between her reddened thighs, massaging her into repeated orgasmic bliss. One after another, the dark space pulsed before her, each time a flood of juices scrambling down her legs.

The faint outline of stairs before her let her saunter towards the massive abyss. It wanted her and she wanted it. The event horizon was near and surrounded by black, she stuck her hand out. In an instant, it slipped away and she dropped into the tub with a thud, out cold.

****

Rebecca had only been outside for half an hour and kept her eyes glued to the ground as she quickly waved through the crowded street. It didn't take long to reach the old lady's bodega and the closed sign ignited her rage. One fist--both fists--the glass door was slammed. She blurted a swath of obscenities and kicked the window. Finally, she saw movement and the face of confusion. The door cracked open.

"Can I help you?"

"What did you sell me?"

"I sell plants. I sold you a plant."

Rebecca shook her hair out in frustration and pointed at her. "You know damn good and well you sold me something I shouldn't have. Why aren't you answering your phone?"

"I'm busy. I sell you nothing out of the ordinary. Stop calling me at two in the morning." The woman attempted to close the door and she was thwarted.

"Stop lying!"

She shoved the door and found a revolver barrel staring her in the face. Everything screeched to a halt.

"You can go now."

Rebecca sighed and pushed her bangs back, which flopped right back over her sunglasses. "Where did you get it?" she said calmly, almost in a whisper. "Do you have any information?"

"Time for you to go." The pistol didn't falter.

The angry brunette shoved away from the door, shoved her hands into her leather jacket and strolled off.

"Stupid American slut," she heard. The door slammed, bells jingling around. An insult like that would stick around for a couple of days.

It didn't take her long to find a pay phone and dial the hung intern. She needed some normalcy. This weekend was strange, very strange. After two rings, the guy picked up.

"It's Becky. You want some company tonight?" She smiled at his response. "Now? You always want me to come now. That's what I like about you." The sultry tone did its job and he begged her to get over as quickly as possible. "How bad do you want me there?" While listening to him plead for her immediate presence, a homeless man had been watching her. "See you soon, handsome."

She knelt down in a crisp pair of white Converse, putting stress on her tight blue jeans. "Since you're minding my business instead of your own, can I help you?"

The raggedy older man shrugged. "Ya smell like heaven, miss. Figure if you can afford to smell that good, you could gimme some change to eat." He licked his dried lips feverishly, desperate to peek further into the v-neck tank that hugged her fit body. Exquisite, heaping cleavage had him glued. She piped up and he looked down at a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep staring at my tits and I'm going to charge you."

"Appreciate this, miss. You didn't haveta." He eyed the sparkling Rolex and nodded as he took the cash. "You have a good day now."

"Oh, I will. Same to you."

****

She didn't mind the exercise, but his apartment floor was way too far up. She jogged and jogged, cursing the elevator that was out of order. She knocked and backed up into the hallway with hands in pockets. The deadbolt popped, the chain rattled away from the slide and she flipped her hair over with a smile to take his lips onto her neck. Big hands shoved underneath her tank and she was pulled into all of that big dick energy swinging from his sweatpants. He inhaled enough air to deplete a small room and sighed hard.

"God damnit, you smell amazing. What is that?"

Her ruby red nails trailed his open back. Kisses lined his collarbone. "You like it?" Never mind she had applied nothing except a standard deodorant. Two with the same reaction. Strange, but not surprising.

"Never stop using that shit, babe," the young man sighed again. The permeating fragrance continued to flow through him, giving him a surge of desperation that she hadn't seen before. In a flash, she was turned and sandwiched against the white, dinghy paint.

"Gonna fuck me in the hall way or what?" She laughed. "Uh oh."

Her jeans were quickly ripped open, pink lace visible. With a yank, her bubble butt was dwarfed by the absolutely monstrous trunk flopping from his sweats. It prodded and was eventually nestled into her thighs, seemingly eager to destroy her.

A worryingly strong grip upon her waist brought her closer to reality. Within a second, his cock was smearing fluids across her back. He slapped it atop the floral pattern of her panties, drumming her buns. There were over ten doors down the hallway.

"Take me inside. Now."

A loud squeal. Whoosh! Door roared closed. Rumbling thuds on the hardwood floor sped up before the laughing stopped as she landed face first into the mattress. He was on her, furiously slurping both cheeks. Panties dampened the squishy slobbering and he filled his lungs with a powerful aroma. The man groaned, voluntarily smothered by ass. It wobbled to and fro, begging him to explore further.

Mother Nature had given a gift. He was rabid, feral for more. Lazy and mopey before but now determined to siphon from a sacred fruit; drink from his boss's divine form. He couldn't get enough. Her panties were sopping wet.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme what I walked over here for."

He flew up and snatched his enormous penis. "Shit. Shit. Wait. Wait."

"What's wrong, babe?" she said with a turn, finding him in a mirror.

"My dick is--what the fuck."

Equally as shocked, she played dumb. "I know. That's why I'm here." There was a noticeable difference from their last encounter. "It's big, baby. Get used to it."

"No--no--something is wrong."

She peeled the lace with both thumbs up and over her fat-bottomed peach. Liquid dribbled profusely into her crack. He dropped the trunk into the middle and sandwiched it in warmth.

"God, what the fuck is happening?" He pleaded for answers but nothing came.

"Mmph. I feel those balls."

Mesmerized by the shaft, he didn't notice his own heavy bag teasing her thighs. Both of them kiwi-sized and churning out the incoming flood.

"Miss Stevens, I--shit, I'm going to cum."

"Don't spray my jacket," she said with a moan. "Put it in me and bust, baby." With another wobble, she tossed her hair back. "Call me Miss Becky and pull my fucking hair."

Violently he lunged, snatching her with both hands. The fat head tickled her gooey lips and he impaled nuts deep. Wham! Wham! She arched from his curl inward. Boof! Thwack! She gasped to the ceiling and he pummeled her insides with slow, brutal bursts. He hauled her up high, arms dangling. The room was rife with devastating smacks and bangs.

"How are you taking this much dick!"

She struggled for air. It kept leaving her with every blast to her ass. "I'm--ah! Ah! A stupid American slut, I'm told."

That stirred his insides. His knuckles tightened, keeping her facing the ceiling.

"You're my slut then," he grumbled. "Mine--my sexy bitch--give it to me," he rambled off, incoherently. "Give it!"

"I'm so fertile." Everything she could do to egg him on, she did it. "Be careful, baby!"

"Shit!" He panicked.

"Cum," she demanded. "Now."

"No, no--wait--shit, I'm fucking cumming!"

She laughed, eyes lazy from the heavy globs building atop of her uterus. "Uh huh, fill it. Fill it."

The piston forced a loud eruption, spraying his balls in goo. He rowed in and out, desperately emptying all that he had. Through grit teeth, he spat out with hard breaths and dropped her. He took the ten inch plug out with a shiver. It was absurd and the silky white stream seemed endless. Panties collapsed under the weight, sending it into the denim.

"This is crazy." He inhaled deep, clamoring for air.

"This is natural," she replied, turning over. The stream continued on his bed before tapping the floor.

"Everything you did was yummy."

"Miss Stev--Bec--what? What the hell do you mean? Look at all this!"

Rebecca got to her feet. She shared the sentiment at the puddle on the floor, but took his hands. "So? You came more than usual. It's no big dea--oh, my god."

Thud!

Nothing she could do. He was out cold.

****

Rebecca twirled a small set of pearls while she read silently. The library had many sections related to plants and fungi, but she went for the most mysterious or rare. Pages and pages were flipped, but to no avail. Work loomed.

There couldn't be just one, she thought. Someone, somewhere, had to know what it was, but she couldn't risk an incident. Trust was in short supply. The old lady almost took her head off. Her young toy was probably scared to show up for work in an hour. What a mess and blessing at the same time.

She rubbed her nose with a sniffle. It was still sensitive after having a clothespin on it. There wasn't an off switch for the plant. Even still, she left the house in damp panties. Being late wasn't going to happen again.

****

This wasn't good. One officer, maybe. Three and a suit? A detective strolled past her door. Fuck. The phone rang--she just realized the intern wasn't at work.

"They're going to come asking questions. Don't be stupid."

"Seems to be the running theme. Bye." Click. There was a knock.

"Miss Stevens. Detective Johnson. Are you free?"

"Absolutely." Guess that 'Guaranteed Fresh" but terrible breakfast toaster would go unfinished.

"You're the last one we'll talk to for now, but have you been informed?"

"I don't believe I have."

"Well, I'm sorry to break this kind of news on a Monday morning. Your co-worker, Jason Schee--Scheible--has passed away." He glanced up from the paper and nodded.