Lizzy's Flower Glizzy Ch. 05-06

The second that my lips part, his tongue slides into my mouth with hungry desperation and slithers against mine. "I don't get why we have to keep sneaking around like this..." he whispers into my mouth.

"You know why... Lizzy really likes you."

"And she already knows how I feel about you."

"But she doesn't know what we do and how often we do it," I whisper, kissing him deeply as I grab his belt and undo his buckle.

His hands slide down my back to my ass, then he squeezes both cheeks. "You don't wanna talk first?"

"Nope," I whisper against his mouth, sliding my hand into his boxers and curling my fingers around that horse cock of his that I love so much. "Lay down so I can so you how much I've missed you..." I push him back to the blanket-topped haybed and he flops down onto it.

Jake pulls off his shirt before laying back then lifts his ass so I can tug off his jeans for him. "You better stop when I tell you to this time... As much as I love your gawk-gawk 9000, Pipes, I love your pussy even more, and I'd rather not finish before I've had a chance to bury myself in your tight little love pocket."

I giggle as I pull my tank top over my head. "Fine..." I kneel at the foot of the haybed and caress him from balls to crown, smiling when his cock throbs from my touch. "I'll just get you nice and slobbered up before I ride you to oblivion." I slather his tip with my tongue before wrapping my lips around his crown.

"Fuck... yeah..." he groans, his core spasming as I passionately suck his tip.

Unlike with the glizzy flower earlier, I start off slow, sucking his cock's head for a bit while massaging it with my tongue. During my worshiping of his crown, I caress his thigh with one hand while the other scratches lightly at his six-pack. When his belly starts twitching under my palm, I bob my head further down, swallowing about 4 of 8 inches of his dick. His cock isn't carrot-thin like the baseline girth of the glizzy flower either, it's thick as fuck--damn near 3-inches in diameter. Coincidentally, that's the perfect circumference to fit snuggly in my throat.

"Oh... ugh... yeah..." he groans, palming the back of my head and pushing down gently. This is his way of telling me that he needs me to take him to the back of my throat. Now.

The transition isn't gradual, I go from having 2 or 3-inches of him in my mouth to opening wide and taking all of him in until my lips are clamped around the base of his shaft with my tongue sticking out and pressed against his ball sac.

Glurp is the noise that comes from my throat when he drives himself into me as far as he can go.

Now I really go at it, effortlessly deepthroating him over and over with the speed of a seasoned porn star, not even gagging once.

Glurk-gawk-gawk-glurp-glurp-gah-gah-gawk-glurk.

It doesn't take many bobs for me to make a slimy mess of his cock.

"UWAAUGH!" I gasp after unswallowing him and pulling his rod out of my mouth. While I catch my breath, I jerk his slobbery meat stick with exaggerated twists, and it schlicks nice and loud. "You wanna fuck my face, Jakey-Poo?"

"Yes," he says in a deep, breathy growl. "Please, baby."

I unwrap my hand from around his dick then plant both palms flat on his thighs as I engulf his well-hung penis once again, taking it to the middle of my mouth. Both of his hands cup both sides of my head, his fingers curling tenderly around the back of my skull. Now he bucks up into my face slowly, driving his schlong all the way to the back of my throat.

Glurk. Glack!

"Argh!" he groans, pausing as he holds a few inches of his cock in place behind my tonsils.

He relaxes his back and lifts my head as he pulls his member out nice and slowly. When his crown reaches the middle of my writhing tongue, he bucks back up into my face, pushing all the way back in. He does that over and over, picking up speed with each upward thrust.

Glurp-glurk-gawk-gawk-glurk-glurk-gah-gah-gawk-glurp.

Saliva pours out around his shaft at an alarming rate.

Glurk-glurk-glurk-glurk-gawk-gah-gah-gawk-glurk.

Eventually, he stops bucking up into my face and instead starts driving my head down into his crotch like it's a melon with a hole that he's using as a sex toy. I don't resist, I relax and go with the flow, letting him control me as fast and hard as he wants to--I let him abuse my throat the way I only let him do.

Glurp-gawk-gawk-glurk-glurk-gah-gah-gawk-glurk.

He's going at it crazy fast now--so fast that it's making me dizzy and winded. The speed and ferocity with which he slams my face into his crotch makes me feel like he's trying to hate fuck my skull because I won't be with him. I don't want this sweet torture to ever stop.

Gawk-gawk-gawk-glurp-gah-gah-glurk-glurp.

He's not giving me a break, because he knows I don't need one. Between being on a swim team since I was 5 along with all the deepthroat practice I've had, I can hold my breath for a crazy long time.

Glurk-glurk-glurk-glurk-gawk-gah-gah-gah-gah-glurk.

As a groan escapes him, he bucks up into me while pressing my head down hard against him, then he just freezes with his dick in the middle of my throat. He's not just relishing in the feeling of having his cock that deep or getting off on the fact that I'm choosing his pleasure of oxygen. This is a signal that tells me if he pulls out even an inch, he might cum down my throat.

A second later, he lifts my head a bit only to surprise me by driving me right back down, mashing my nose against his pubic bone.

At that exact moment, my stomach churns and cramps and growls louder than it ever has in my life.

That's when a wave of nausea hits me so hard that I instantly start sweating.

"HURRGH-BLURRG!" is the noise I make as what sounds like a wet burp gurgles in the depths of my esophagus. Then, "BLURRAH!" What rushes up my throat feels thick--thick like cake batter lacking the right amount of milk, not at all like the creamy goo I drank from the plant glizzy. And, despite it being so viscous, it rushes up my throat with the same speed at which regular puke does after drinking too much alcohol.

It all happens so fast that I don't have time to squeeze or slap his thighs to signal him to let me up. Like, thick, warm, bitterness floods my mouth less than a second after the gurgle, and then an insane amount of what looks like batter erupts out around his cock before I even start unswallowing his meat sword.

He and I both stare down in horror at the white sludge that's completely coated his cock, balls, and pelvis.

"What the fuuuck!" he shouts.

Before I have a chance to catch my breath, before I have a chance to rise from the floor and turn my head, I retch and spew an insane amount of white mud all over his dick. So much of it comes out that it splashes against his stomach before the cream tsunami washes up to his chest. It's an obscene amount. Like, I severely miscalculated how much plant cum I guzzled. The crazy thing is, as soon as I try catching my breath a second after the puke stops flowing, I gag, choke, and retch again. This time, I have enough time to react by turning my head towards the railing.

Bad choice.

The white batter geyser that's somehow just as voluminous as the first two expulsions blast the wooden floor beneath the railing and then I watch in horror as the thick sludge wave pours over the edge, falling towards the horse in the stall below the hayloft almost in slow-motion. The filth splatters loudly on Sundance's hind end the way oatmeal would sound being dumped from this height. Lizzy's beloved Palomino stallion neighs louder than I've ever heard a horse neigh in real life, rearing up on his hind legs as he flails his front legs in the air in a panic. As I rest against the rail and try to catch my breath between all the coughing, I watch Sundance rise onto his hind legs over and over. Each time he rears up, the thick sludge I puked on his backend runs down his tail and rump.

"Fucking hell, Pipes," Jake groans from behind me. His hand falls on my back. "You okay?"

Since I'm still gasping for air and coughing up a storm, all I can do is turn and nod while using my shirt to wipe my mouth.

"What happened? You never puke while giving me a throat-job... You finally develop a gag reflex or did I--"

"No..." I manage to croak now that I've finally caught my breath. "That wasn't your fault. I've been feeling nauseous the last half-hour... I took some Tums and my tummy settled down a bit, so I thought I was good to go... Clearly, I was wrong... I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. It wouldn't have happened if I wasn't trying to choke you with my dick..." He glances down at the slimy mess dripping onto the floor and running down his legs. "What the fuck did you even eat today?"

I stare at the mess plastered all over his lower half. "Uhhh..." I pause for a long while, trying to think of something other than 'I drank a buck's-worth of a dick-shaped plant's cum.'

"Please don't you dare tell me you blew a bunch of guys then guzzled yogurt before I came here." He cracks a nervous smile.

"It's cake batter," I finally blurt out. That's the best thing my drunk-ass could think of because that's exactly what it looks like.

He cocks a brow. "Cake batter?" he echoes, snorting after. "Seriously?"

"Yeah... Me and the girls were... uh... playing a game of truth or dare, and I was dared to down a bunch of cake batter. Like, a lot of it."

"Shit... That's a gross-ass dare... Maybe all the raw egg got you sick... Or maybe you drank so much of it that it fucked up the pH of your stomach..." He would bring up something sciencey like pH because he's a bit of a nerd despite being a Lacrosse jock.

"Maybe," I whisper. As I glance over at the mess on the blanket and the pool of goo on the floor at the foot of the haybed, my stomach groans and gurgles for, like, seven seconds straight. "Ugh..."

"You don't look so good, Pipes," he says, brushing my hair back and cupping the side of my face.

"And you look like you need a shower," I say, wince-smiling at him as I walk over to where I tossed my clothes. "Go down to the shower stall towards the back of the barn and wash up while I clean up Sundance, okay?"

Jake nods.

"Here," I say, tossing him my tank top. "Use that to scrub yourself off."

"You sure?"

"Mm-hm. I'll throw it in the wash and borrow one of Lizzy's shirts."

On my way to go find a bucket, I stop at the sink to clean up a bit. In the short time between when I puked and when I got down here, the sludge I spewed has thickened into a tacky coating that reminds me of icing now. This stuff is so thick that it takes a good bit of scrubbing to get it off of me. Well, I get most of it off. There're still a few sticky patches of white dried onto my skin like glue that come off when I scratch at them with my nails. And if it's drying on me like that, it means I need to hurry and clean off Sundance ASAP.

I run around like a maniac in search of a bucket. It takes a while, but I finally find one in the tack room along with a scrubbing brush. Now I race over to the shower stall to fill up the container and grab the horse-safe soap that the Rutherfords use--things I know from working here with Lizzy one summer.

Upon entering the shower stall, I find Jake standing right over the drain, one hand holding the hose while he uses the other to vigorously scrub his crotch. Like me, there's still a thin layer of white stuff smeared on his legs and abdomen. But when he moves his hand, I see that there's still a crazy amount of white goo plastered all over his dick, balls, and crotch. And when I say all over, I mean all over. Like, I don't see skin, just the thick, off-white coating. It legit looks like he dipped his junk in a tub of buttercream frosting...

"How are you still scrubbing?" I ask, squinting at him. "You had the water going since you got in here..."

"How are you so clean already?" he fires back, frustration and panic in his voice. "I started before you!"

I shrug, holding out the bucket so he can fill it with water for me. "You just have to scrub a little harder and it'll come off. That's what worked for me."

Jake hands me the hose. "I have been scrubbing hard, Piper!" he snaps through gritted teeth, his face matching the color of the patches of irritated flesh on his belly. "Don't you see how red my skin is?" He takes the soapy, drenched top and scrubs his schlong harder than a person should ever rub their skin with something that abrasive. "You see? It's not coming off!"

I reach down and curl my fingers around his semi-hard, frosted cock. The thick, sticky coating mushes against my fingers like I'm touching a sausage slathered in peanut butter. When I tug him slowly and gently from the middle of his shaft to the crown, the frosting smears but it doesn't come off, like gum stuck to a carpet. And when I look at the palm of my hand, there are only a few speckles of tacky spots on my skin with what looks like little white fibers sticking up from it.

"What the fuck..." I mutter, handing him back the hose.

"Yeah, what the fuck for real, Pipes..." he snaps harshly. "You wanna tell me what you really puked all over me? Because, whatever this shit is, it's not cake batter..."

I don't say anything. I just stare blankly at him as a panic attack sets in.

"Do you have some kind of fucked up throat STD?"

"No!" I mewl.

"Then why the hell won't this shit come off, Piper?" he shouts.

The horses all start making noises.

"Jake, please calm down, okay? I'm sorry that this happened, and I'm sorry this stuff isn't coming off. But I don't know why. All I know is I don't have an STD."

"Fucking hell... this is so fucked up!"

I rub his arm. "It is fucked up. But now's not the time for freaking out, okay. You should just go home and soak in the tub for a while. Maybe that'll help..."

"Maybe..." he growls, handing me the hose without even looking at me. After that, he storms out of the shower stall and picks up his clothes. With his back to me, he bends over and steps into his boxers

"Everything is going to be fine, Jake," I assure him as I cut off the water.

"It fucking better be." He pulls up his Jeans.

Unsure of what else to say, I just stand there, watching him pull on his shirt while stepping into his sneakers.

"Thanks for the puke-job, Cummings Dumpster," he snarls without looking back at me as he disappears around the corner. Even though everyone calls me that, he never has until just now.

Fuck...

When I finally walk into Sundance's stall, I realize how much of a mess I actually made. Not only are his tail, back end, and his rump all creamed up, but the sludge I puked somehow flowed all the way down to his massive testicles while he was rearing up.

Oh, come on... I'm not cleaning this horse's balls...

If my night wasn't already bad enough, things go from bad to worse when I rinse off the soapy water from the stallion's hind end only to discover that I spent the last five minutes scrubbing him with a brush for nothing. Like, none of the gunk came off at all. This shit is stuck to him like plaster.

"Fuck!" I shout, stomping my foot.

Panicking, I lead Sundance to the shower stall and scrub him down for another ten minutes. That doesn't work either...

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I mutter, leading him back to his stall.

Since nothing is working, I give up and decide to return to the hayloft to try and clean up the floor. As I scrub the wooden boards with soapy water, my stomach growls and another wave of nausea washes over me. It feels like I'm on the verge of barfing again, which makes no sense considering I puked my guts out three times already.

You've got to be shitting me, I think when I see that the goo on the floor is coming up from my vigorous brushing. Why the fuck is it coming off the wood but not scrubbing off Jake and the horse?

Once the floor is all clean enough, I grab me and Jake's special blanket then head out of the barn, my stomach groaning the entire time. On the way to the house, I stop at the trashcan to throw out the blanket. Pretty much right as I toss it in the bin, my stomach sours and cramps hard, then I retch out of nowhere and puke a cupful of something white and brown right top of it. This time it looks more like regular vomit--a mix of what I ate and drank earlier.

"Ugh," I groan as my stomach cramps and sours again. "It feels like I'm dying..."

You're not dying, I tell myself during the short walk to the guest room window. The glizzy jizz is probably, like, curdling from all the alcohol in my stomach, that's all... Or maybe I just swallowed too much and it messed up my pH like Jake said...

Fucking hell... why did I chug so much of the glizzy flower's cum?

A preview of what's to come next week (5/4/22) (Be Advised, things get naughtier & more horrific):

Chapter 7: Flower Glizzy Jizz Sickness -- Piper's not the only one feeling horribly ill... In the grossest chapter thus far, things go full-splatterpunk when the POV hops between Lizzy and the girls as they deal with similar yet different symptoms of glizzy flower ejaculate exposure (depending on where they got creamed).

And for those of you wondering what's going on with the gooey white gunk that Jake Landau couldn't get off, sit tight. Chapter 10 will follow up with Piper's lover and Lizzy's neighbor.