Flesh Pitchers of Prague

"Fuck!" Fowler exclaimed.

The liquid had reached and enveloped his balls. The tingling sensation sank right into his sac and sent pleasurable sparks ricocheting through his nerves.

The girl smiled and continued to caress his shoulders.

That felt... Fowler didn't have words to describe how good that felt.

This was pure fucking heaven. He lay back and relaxed in her embrace. He let the gentle contractions and relaxations of her opening languorously dip his cock back and forth into the squelchy honey of her internal vagina. His thrusts set the liquids of the pitcher in motion and he basked in the feeling of the warm currents swirling through his legs and tickling his balls.

Meanwhile her hands, breasts and soft lips were driving his upper body crazy. Lost soul from hell? Fuck that. She felt like an angel from heaven to Fowler.

Chris was the biggest muppet in the world for walking away from this.

He wondered how Terry and Miller were getting on. He looked around.

Miller's girl was really fucking lively. He spotted them as they hung in the darkness a few metres away. Her pitcher was pulsating like crazy and he could see Miller pistoning in and out of her through the movements of his back. Her hands were hooked around him and clawing his flesh in ecstasy.

Jammy bas...tard?

The girl and Miller slowly span until Miller was facing him. Miller was sheet white and absolutely terrified.

Help me, he mouthed.

What the fuck?

Then Fowler noticed the bulges in the vines. They were travelling upwards not downwards.

He turned to where Terry lay in the embrace of another girl. His upper body lay slumped against her as her pitcher gently pulsed around his lower body. The girl looked over Terry's shoulder right at him and smiled.

He watched as Terry's body jerked with each pulsation of her pitcher and a bulge travelled upwards. Then he realised in horror that Terry's body was shrinking. It was deflating like a balloon.

What the fuck!

"My sisters are feeding and it's time for me to join them," his girl whispered in his ear.

No fucking way!

Fowler tried to climb out of her. His feet thrashed, but he couldn't get any purchase on her slippery inner walls. His legs just slid and slipped. He tried to grip the sides of the opening, but they'd also exuded some kind of slippery mucus and his hands kept slipping.

"Let me fucking go!" Fowler shouted.

The fluid in her pitcher was thick and tired out his legs quickly as he kicked and thrashed within it. The pitcher expanded, becoming a little deeper and Fowler dropped within it until his head was level with her breasts. His hands slipped on the opening and were pinioned against his hips as the cushioned hoop closed tight around his body.

"Your struggles are futile little fly," the girl said. "You can't escape my trap. Relax and let pleasure take you."

What was she doing?

Within her pitcher his cock was gripped by a powerful suction. It was drawn back into the honey-filled channel, only this time the orifice had come alive and the soft walls gently throbbed against his cock.

And why did it feel so good?

She put her arms around the back of his head and smothered his face in the lush cleavage between her breasts. The walls of her pitcher gently pulsed, driving his cock deeper into her vaginal opening and swirling the fluids to massage his buttocks and legs.

"Your pleasure will feed me," she said, cradling his head to her breasts.

Was she trying to eat him or fuck him?

The pitcher pulsed and her vaginal orifice throbbed pleasurably around his cock.

It felt more like... ooo... fucking.

The warm liquid in her pitcher massaged his balls with gentle fingers. The contractions of the opening thrust him in and out of an orifice that gently milked his cock. She was steadily taking his body to orgasm and he was powerless to resist.

Oh fuck, he was going to cum.

She sensed his body's impending orgasm and the pulsating motions of her pitcher grew deeper and slower. Her vaginal orifice sucked a little harder at his cock each time her motions pulled him away.

Oh fuck, he couldn't hold back anymore. He was going to... he was...

She knew. Her pitcher contracted driving his cock so deep into her vaginal opening he felt the head pass through into a sticky chamber with stretchy walls. She held him there, milking the entire length of his cock with expert pulses as he explosively came in a shuddering orgasm that spurted gout after gout of sperm into her.

The aftermath left Fowler feeling weak and drained. It felt like the orgasm had ripped out a piece of him with it.

"Look," the girl said tilting his head upwards. "Your pleasure feeds me."

Fowler watched as a bulge travelled up the vine. It was more than just his semen, he realised. It was a piece of him, gone, sucked up and travelling away from him.

Give it back, he thought forlornly.

"And that is just the first taste," she smiled

Her hands delicately caressed his back. The pitcher began to pulsate again. He felt his cock thrust back and forth into her sticky passage. Her fluids swirled, massaging and caressing his balls.

She was steering his body irresistibly to another orgasm.

"Look... aah..." Fowler said.

She pulled him close and the head of his cock once again spurted explosively into that sticky chamber as skilled vibrations throbbed along its length. Another bulge passed up the vine leaving Fowler feeling weaker as he felt another piece sucked from him.

"We must be able to cut a deal," he pleaded.

Miller was a hollowed out husk and he couldn't see any sign of Terry.

The girl gently raked his back with her fingernails. The fleshy hoop contracted around him and the pulsations started again within the pitcher.

"I have money. I can give you plenty of money."

The girl ignored him. She pulled his cock into her sticky chamber and milked another load of cum and essence from his body. A third bulge passed up the vine.

"Power. Influence. I have connections. I can get you whatever you want." Fowler begged.

The girl gently twirled her fingers through his hair. Her pitcher continued its remorseless pulsations, the stroking motions of her vaginal opening rapidly bringing him to a fourth orgasm.

"What do you want!" Fowler pleaded, seeing a fourth piece of him travel up the vine and into the darkness.

"Shh," the girl said, putting a pale finger against his lips. "I want only to give you pleasure."

One arm hooked around the back of his head she pulled his face into her soft cleavage. Her other hand tickled down the back of his spine. The hoop of her opening contracted tight, holding Fowler's body rigid against her embrace. His cock was forced deeper inside the sticky chamber at the back of her pitcher and this time she didn't release it.

Slow, strong contractions went through the pitcher and throbbed along his cock. He spurted uncontrollably into the sticky chamber and felt the elastic walls expand outwards, sucking out more of his cum and life force.

The chamber contracted and pushed another bulge up the vine.

Fowler had pause only for a breath before the chamber was expanding again while she resumed milking his cock.

Fowler felt light-headed. His skin felt slack on his body as he felt his muscles shrivel and waste away beneath it.

How the fuck could this happen to him?

His cock spurted again, filling her chamber as she continued to suck out all his life through one ecstatic orgasm after another.

He felt his body shrivel and waste in her embrace.

"Please," he begged through dried up lips.

"Time to squeeze out the last few drops of pleasure," she sighed.

The cushioned hoop of the opening gripped the sides of his wasted body and slowly gulped him down into the pitcher. His last sight was the perfect beauty of her face as the opening closed shut above him.

A figure could be seen weakly struggling within her closed pitcher. The walls contracted once, twice, three times. The struggles ceased. Three bulges, larger than the others, travelled up the vine.

The girl gave an unearthly sigh and closed her eyes in contentment.

*****

"I couldn't go through with it," Chris said to the taxi driver as he walked towards the exit. "The other guys might be getting the fuck of their life right now, but... I don't know, it just seemed wrong.

"I mean lost souls from hell that look like girls crossed with pitcher plants. That's too fucking weird for me.

"I bet you've heard all this before. Other guys must have backed out. Right?"

Chris turned back to the taxi driver, just in time to see the man swing a thick metal pole at his head. His eyes widened in horror and then the pole connected, shattering his skull. His body fell to the floor and twitched spasmodically.

"Would have been better for you had you got in one of those pitchers," the taxi driver muttered. "At least your last moments would have been filled with pleasure."

He picked up the ankles and dragged the twitching body away.

His precious girls always had a need for fresh compost.