Herba-Mistress

The tendrils and vines worked in conjunction to pull her upward and then surged over her for better purchase. Now Emily found herself devoured up to her waist in a tangle of slick green fingers all caressing her as they held her ready. She found out why when the swarm of green parted just above her pussy and a thick, pale protuberance pushed itself slug-like from the center of the mass.

Astonished, Emily glanced toward Prof. Masterson with a curious frown. The professor just patted her shoulder and she felt reassured. Watching intently, she saw this thick muscle bump firmly up against her vulva and then it opened. Like a big, blubbery, thick-lipped mouth, it spread open further and stretched outward until the entire maw had engulfed her pussy from taint to clitoris in a possessive, wet kiss.

The scene was brief because a tide of tenderly groping foliage swallowed it in their ever-reaching grasp of Emily's pelvis. She was now the only witness to the congress taking place within. She pulled out her elbows from beneath her and dropped her head and shoulders to the table. The clustered chorus of slithering green fingers surged over her lower body, capitalized on their purchase, and lifted her ass up off the gurney. The sexual exchange was now entirely controlled by the hulking purple herb. Emily simply closed her eyes and let herself be had. It was all calm on the outside while inside the wrestling embrace of plant life the mouth spread and seated itself firmly against her bare pussy. A question mark hung in the air as to what was transpiring between the two beings and then, "Ooooowwwoooo!" Emily shrilly erupted, surprised by a new development.

"What is happening, my dear?" asked Prof. Masterson.

"Ssssuck... ing," replied Emily. That was as descriptive as she could get in her present state. The sensation was wonderful. It intensified the contact and at the same time increased the sensitivity around her pussy. She could have been completely satisfied with this alone and she was about to lift her oxygen tube to take another dose when something within the mouth slowly surged into her and she gasped.

"What is it now?" pressed Dr. Ernholm.

"Ent-ring... me," was Emily's breathless reply. It was getting hard to keep her focus. A long, thick tongue was pushing its way up her vagina, twisting and probing as it explored her depths. A thrusting penis was nothing like this. The feeling of something alive moving around within her, no matter how gently, was expanding her sexual awareness to unimaginable levels. She wanted to embrace her talented lover and return pleasure. Her hands reached down and pressed over the tangle of tentacles writhing around her pussy. The licking green tentacles engaged her fingers in a slow dance of exchanged caresses.

"Can you describe it, dear?" asked Prof. Masterson but Emily was in no condition to respond.

"One ninety eight over one hundred seven," Dr. Ernholm added. "Pulse... one hundred eighty five." She looked at Prof. Masterson with an eyebrow raised in concern.

Emily began twisting and pumping her hips into her lover. She became aware of a new talent her lover possessed. That one thick tongue that entered her proved to be several tongues. They struggled against each other and her vaginal walls to attain their goal in her depths. The onslaught of sensations tugging and teasing her awareness were now driving her to near apoplexy. Hungering for a release, she freed a hand to pull the cannula from her face and she sucked in two big puffs of pheromone-charged air.

"Emily, careful!" exclaimed Prof. Masterson.

And with the ensuing climactic rush, a towering tsunami broke on Emily's shore, sweeping away with it her last grasp of consciousness and landing her in the soothing bliss beyond.

------

She came-to very slowly, like emerging from a restful sleep. She noticed she was lying on clean sheets with a warm blanket tucked around her. She recalled her last awareness and her hand reached toward her muff, looking for her plant partner. Her vulva and outer labia felt swollen and they were sensitive to her touch. Emily stretched and with the head-rush, lapsed back slightly.

"Caroline, she's coming around," said Dr. Ernholm. And both women came to Emily's side. The doctor seized her wrist and looked to her watch to gauge Emily's pulse.

"Can you hear me, Emily?" Prof. Masterson asked as she gently squeezed Emily's arm.

"Mmm... hmm," Emily slowly replied.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Mmm... hmm," she replied again. Her muscles were so tired and her warm nap so hard to relinquish. She struggled weakly when Dr. Ernholm pushed open each eyelid and shined her pocket flashlight into Emily's pupils.

"You are a very strong and courageous young lady," Prof. Masterson confided.

"Not very scientifically grounded, though," Dr. Ernholm added. She rested the back of her hand to Emily's forehead an instant to assure herself there was no fever and walked back to her desk.

"No one is perfect, Gretchen," retorted Prof. Masterson. She tucked the blanket around Emily's shoulders and then spoke softly, "You are very fit, brave, and I admire you."

"Not... sci... tific," Emily groggily corrected with a yawn.

"That's alright, my dear. We'll work on that." Prof. Masterson continued. She leaned close to Emily's ear. "I have been thinking. I am old and tired and I have grown beyond playful pursuits. I think my Caelibem specimen belongs with a young woman who can appreciate him and care for him when I no longer can."

"Hmm hmm... Cae... li... bem," Emily smiled.

"Yes. Well, if you are willing, I would like to consign him to your care," the professor continued. "...after a sufficient environmental chamber can be constructed, of course."

"'f... c'rse"

"You think about it and we'll talk later." She patted Emily's head and returned to her desk.

Some very pleasant notion passed through Emily's mind but it got lost like some bobble in the chaos of torn Christmas wrappings on the floor. Her mind was drifting in a soothing bath and it was hard to pull herself out. She could find loose threads. The threads led to words. If drawn together the words formed a thought. That thought was a very happy notion that she hoped was real. With a burst of awareness, she bolted upright on the gurney with blinking eyes. "I'll call him Lurch."

The sudden outburst startled both of the scientists from their cataloguing of samples and they spun around to look at Emily just in time to see her eyes roll back and then she crumpled backward on to the gurney.

"Obtuse sentimentality," commented Dr. Ernholm. "Humph." And she turned back to her desk.

"Quite," added Prof. Masterson as she resumed her work. After they settled back into the comfort of routine she lackadaisically added, "I already named him Wooster."