Strange Flowers

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of 18.

Hello again. This story is the follow-up to my taboo story, Pretty Please. It's a prequel, about a month prior. It's also the first story featuring the lovely Stacy from my MILF Cruise stories. You don't have to read Pretty Please first, but it might help understand some of the personal and family dynamics. This story features some big, beautiful women, swinging, nudism, and group sex. If any of that isn't your cup of tea, please move on to greener pastures.

Strange Flowers

Ana groaned as she rose from her bed. One of the worst parts about getting older, she had always felt, is waking up more sore than when you went to bed. She slowly flexed her ankles, making sure she didn't instigate a cramp in her calves.

She stepped in front of her big dressing mirror and stretched. She ran her hands through her long grey hair, finding one or two knots that she'd have to brush out. A single streak of black remained just above her left temple. At sixty-five years old she appreciated the last vestiges of youth that hung gamely on. She ran her hands down her body, caressing her breasts which were far perkier than she had any right to at her age. A breast cancer scare seven years ago required a double mastectomy and she'd opted for one that spared her nipples. She'd added implants afterward. She'd had lovely C-cups before, and she replaced them with the same size. Her body showed its years but she was still tall and lean. She scratched the curly patch of grey hair over her vulva.

She walked to the window and looked out. The sun was higher in the sky than she expected. She'd slept in, a bit. But she enjoyed watching its rays slide between limbs of the enormous live oaks that surrounded the house, draped with Spanish moss. Dark clouds hung on the horizon.

She looked down onto the patio beside the screened pool deck expecting to see Jerome in his morning weightlifting. Watching him was often the best part of getting out of bed. She wasn't very surprised to find Cora lying on her back on Jerome's weight bench, with her legs held in the air. Jerome straddled the bench and was thrusting his cock vigorously into the big woman's meaty pussy.

Ana smiled wickedly as she watched the lovers below. Jerome was her live-in lover and occasional butler, and Cora was her live-in housekeeper and occasional lover. She loved watching them together. Jerome's tall, lean, tanned body against Cora's big, beautiful pale body was an incredible contrast in sensuality. Every time Jerome's big, hard cock slammed home, Cora's full round body would undulate erotically. Cora's arms came up to encircle her enormous breasts, and Adrianna wished she were down there to take one of those big nipples in her teeth. Ana's hands slid down to caress between her pussy lips, finding her slit already wet.

She began to moan softly as her fingers slipped inside her pussy, but her pleasure was short-lived as she watched Jerome's body rock and his head fall back as his orgasm rolled through him. The smile on Cora's face said that she had been well pleased by the big man's efforts. After five or six deep thrusts as he came inside of her, he fell forward over her body, spent. Sweat poured off their bodies. Her arms wrapped around his slick body and held him tight as they caught their breath. Ana sighed and stepped from the window, letting the lovers recover unobserved.

***

Ana was spreading cream cheese over a bagel as Jerome and Cora stepped into the kitchen, toweling pool water from their naked bodies. They both smiled when they saw Ana. Cora came over and leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. "Good morning, Ms. Ana," she said with a smile. "Sleep well?"

Jerome stepped up, slid his hand around her waist, and pulled her into him to kiss her deeply. He pulled back to look into her eyes. "Good morning." He said as a statement of fact.

Ana smiled at him. "Yes, I saw that. Did you have a good swim?" Jerome smiled and nodded.

"I did sleep well, but I awoke sore. Would you mind getting the massage table set up?" She looked at Jerome.

He reached for the coffee pot and nodded. "Of course, where shall I set up?"

Ana thought for a moment and replied. "If it's going to cloud over, set up in the solarium."

Cora glanced at Jerome and smiled knowingly. Jerome nodded. "As you wish. You should take a hot bath to relax your muscles first. I'll be ready in the solarium in an hour."

***

Jerome pulled the key from its hiding place and unlocked the solarium doors. The heavy French doors were very modern compared to the rest of the house and featured rubber seals all around. There was a slight sucking sound as the door opened and a sweet fragrance swept over him.

He carried the folded table into the room and looked up at the tree. In the center of the solarium grew an impressive tangor tree, heavily laden with orange blossoms. This property had once been an immense orange plantation. But back in the 1980s most of the land had been sold to a Florida land conservatory. Ana retained sixty acres along the Indian River, a brackish estuary, south of Melbourne.

When the skies were cloudy, as they often were on any particular day in Florida, Jerome spent a fair amount of time in this solarium, tending the garden here. But not when the sun was out. The all-glass nature of a solarium makes it a cancer risk far worse than a tanning bed. Especially naked.

His eyes took in the room, admiring the birds of paradise flowers, eventually coming to the creeping vine that covered the trunk of the orange tree. The Blushed Trumpet, a rare and mysterious flowering vine. The trumpets had flowered but had not yet opened. Based on the richness of their pink color, he felt it would likely be this coming weekend as Ana had predicted.

Ana strode into the solarium as Jerome was finishing setting up the table. He looked up as she approached. Her skin was flushed from the warm bath. She was tall and willowy, with fine graceful limbs. Her lovely hair was put up in a bun except for a pair of locks that fell to her cheeks on either side of her face. She smiled at her lover as he spread a towel over the table for her. She stepped up to him and kissed the thirty-eight-year-old man. After her husband Kenneth had died twenty-seven years ago, she'd had a few lovers. Live-in or otherwise. But Jerome was the only one she'd fallen in love with. And he, with her. They'd been together for eight years now.

She ran her hand over his chest feeling the perspiration from being in the warm, humid room. "The trumpets will open this weekend, just as you said," Jerome whispered in her ear.

Ana took a deep breath, taking in the sweet smell. A shudder of excitement ran down her body. "Yes. I can't wait." Jerome readied the massage oil as she laid down on her stomach, on the massage table.

One thing that she loved about her lover was his patience. They both knew how this massage would end but he worked her body slowly, lovingly with his strong hands, as if they had all the time in the world. After she had turned on her back, he continued his ministrations, ignoring her engorged nipples and the wetness that seeped from her pussy as he worked. She took great big even breaths, feeling her pulse grow faster in response to the pheromone in the air. It was mild now, but this weekend the trumpets would open and ...

Ana gasped as Jerome's hands slipped over her breasts. When she'd chosen her surgeon for the mastectomy, she'd chosen the best. Her nipples had lost very little sensation. Kenneth had been fond of saying, "You get what you pay for." Of course, Jerome had been happy to massage them after the surgery. She'd recovered very well indeed.

After just a few moments on her breasts, she looked into Jerome's eyes and took his big hand in hers, and moved it over her vulva. She spread her legs enticingly and he smiled down at her as his fingers slipped down over her pussy lips. Her hips flexed as his fingertips slid over her slick opening.

She looked over and saw Jerome's big cock beginning to swell. She reached up and ran her right hand through the little pool of massage oil that had gathered in the notch between her tits. She then smeared it down the length of Jerome's cock. She began to pump it as his thick finger slid noisily into her wet pussy. They both moaned together. She felt his finger curl and find her G-spot, and he rubbed it briskly. It was too much. She pushed his hand away and he looked into her eyes.

"Now. I'm ready. Sooo ready," she whispered. Jerome was a man of few words. He simply smiled and slid onto the table, kneeling over her. He helped Ana turn her hips and then moved his right leg over her left one, pulling her right leg around his hips. It was a position they had discovered to be excellent on the narrow massage table, where he was straddling only her left leg. She gently guided his turgid cock to her pussy, slick with massage oil. Jerome closed his eyes and thrust his hips forward.

Ana groaned appreciably as his thick length filled her. Her Kenneth had been an amazingly gifted man in the cock department. Jerome was a damn close second. She ran her hands up and caressed his chest and he continued thrusting languorously into her. He reached forward with his left hand to grasp her breast and squeezed it firmly. She moaned as his calloused hands slid over her engorged nipple. An electrical current flowed between her pussy and her nipple making the hairs on her arms stand up. Her entire body was alive with sensation. For the thousandth time, she mentally thanked her late husband for bringing that little plant home to their solarium.

Jerome leaned over to kiss her passionately as his thrusts picked up speed and force.

"Yes, baby. Give it to me. Oh, my love," she whispered breathlessly.

Jerome pulled back on her right leg and pistoned his hips forward hard. After a dozen thrusts, the two lovers screamed together in mutual orgasm as his cock fired his cum deep within her womb. The feeling of his cum filling her brought her orgasm to incredible heights and her pelvic muscles clamped down on the rock-like tool within her. She could feel it pulsing as it deposited its load within her. Their eyes locked on one another as they trembled on the table, trying to catch their breath. Finally, Jerome leaned over her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him fiercely.

"I love you," she whispered. Jerome smiled. "I love you too."

Minutes later they both stood in the shower of Ana's master bedroom. The air-conditioned coolness of the house had raised goosebumps on their flushed skin and the warm water felt divine.

As his hands washed her body, Jerome spoke. "Cora says the shopping is completed for this weekend's party."

She looked at him with a smile. "Good. Cookie has told me that she and Mark will be coming."

He nodded; his eyes focused on his work. Her body was older, with wrinkles and stretch marks as one might expect but her skin was still firm and supple. Her active lifestyle maintained her muscle tone, whereas people who gravitated toward the couch as they got older, did not. "That's good. Cora is fond of them both."

"Zaila is coming too," Ana said with a knowing smile. Jerome met her eyes and smiled back. "I'm happy to hear that."

She giggled. "I thought you might be. Cookie also says that she is fairly certain she'll also be bringing two more. An old friend from her school days."

***

Two weeks earlier.

Stacy smiled as the morning sun eased its way through the diaphanous curtains that hung over her balcony doors. She wiped a bead of sweat from her cheek. There was a lot about her recent divorce that had gone her way, but being awarded the Melbourne condominium was by far her favorite. A third-floor condo on an east coast Florida beach agreed with her. Let her ex-husband keep the big house and deal with all the upkeep it required. After twenty-four years of marriage, taking care of the bastard, their two children, and the home, she was ready to be taken care of for a change. And speaking of being taken care of ...

She ran her hands through Rick's short-cropped blonde hair and moaned softly. She looked down and smiled at the young face that was lying on her sweaty breast, breathing deeply. A junior at the local university, Rick competed on the school swim team and had the body that went with it. He'd been fucking the brains clean out of her pretty little head for several weeks now, on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. An occasional weekend booty call wasn't out of the question either.

"Sweetie, what would your mother think of her sweet little boy fucking her forty-four-year-old neighbor?"

Rick lifted his head and smiled. Sweat was beaded up on his face. "Oh, I think she would be pissed. She doesn't really care for you."

She probably shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

"She doesn't like me? We've only met a handful of times, passing in the lobby or the hallway."

The young man dipped his head to kiss her engorged nipple for a moment. "Let's just say she thinks Dad's eyes linger a little too long when you go by."

She smiled. Rick's dad, Pete, was cute in a forty-plus dad-bod kind of way, but ultimately safe from any interest from Stacy. She could never be the "other" woman.

She smiled at him. "I really enjoy your morning visits." She could feel his cum dripping from her well fucked pussy.

He smiled. "You have ruined me for wanting girls my age."

She laughed. "Nonsense. I've just taught you how to drive them wild in bed. Once word gets out, they will be chasing you all over the campus."

His face grew serious. "Do you think we could do more? Go out I mean? Maybe on a date?"

Her face softened. She'd been afraid of this. "Rick, you're a very nice guy and a terrific lay, but I'm not looking for that sort of thing right now. I'm very happy with our current fuck-buddy status. Aren't you?"

His face grew apologetic. "Of course! But I ... just feel so comfortable with you."

Stacy smiled. "That's because your face is on my tit."

Rick laughed as she pushed him off and rolled out of the bed.

"Go get cleaned up. You have class and I have Zumba in an hour. Let's get rolling."

Rick rolled out of bed and gathered his clothes. As he did, he noticed something new hanging on the wall near her closet. He was surprised to see a framed and signed Miami Porpoises jersey. Number 43, Dale Donovan. He leaned in and read the signature.

Hugs and kisses on all your pink parts.

Love, Dale

***

After her late morning Zumba class, she ate a standup lunch in the kitchen and then swapped her sweaty leotards for a bikini. She headed down to the pool to cool off. One of the benefits of Florida living was having pool weather, from early spring to pretty darn far into fall. Early on a weekday, the pool was nearly empty.

For twenty minutes or so she just cooled off in the deep end, her arms hooked over the ledge and her head resting on her hands. Then she did a few lazy laps and exited the pool. As she was setting her towel on a chaise lounge chair, a pair of young ladies were setting up in the chairs that surrounded the sand volleyball court that was opposite the pool.

From behind her dark sunglasses, Stacy surreptitiously admired their young firm bodies in their bikinis. She'd never been with a woman. But the more she looked, the more she liked the idea. The idea of taking a pink nipple between her lips made her squirm on her towel. The blonde was tall and lean, nearly skinny, while the brunette was shorter and curvier. Both were lovely and if wearing makeup out to sun yourself was a clue, they were there to be seen.

Stacy leaned back and let her mind drift until the girl's conversation caught her attention.

"Do you have your costume ready for Comic-Con yet?" the brunette asked.

"Just about. There are still a few things to get finished. I don't know how I let you talk me into this."

The girl giggled. "Trust me, you are going to love it."

The blonde scoffed. "I don't see how being surrounded by awkward geeks still living in their parent's basement is going to get my panties damp."

The brunette laughed. "You're thinking of Star Trek conventions. This is Comic-Con. You know, where cosplayers dress up as their favorite heroes and villains?"

"Okay, so?"

"Sweetie, you can't squeeze a beer gut into a Superman costume. You gotta be able to own it. So ... sexy fit bodies everywhere! It doesn't matter if you're into chicks or guys. I went last year when they moved it to the big hotel, and got my brains fucked out both nights. The first night was this young guy who was cut like an Olympic gymnast, dressed up as Wolverine. You know, that Hugh Jackman character with the claws?"

"Uh huh," the blonde grunted.

"The second night was with this couple dressed as the Joker and Harley Quinn. I was so thoroughly fucked that I could hardly walk the next morning. Not to mention, I had their face paint all over my body." She giggled wildly.

The blonde sounded amazed. "You were with a guy and a girl? I didn't know you were bi!"

The brunette sighed. "I wasn't one hundred percent sure about it myself until that night. He was fucking the hell out of me, and she just dropped her pussy down on my face. Boom, that was it. I was a pussy eater from that moment forward."

"Whoa," the blonde whispered.

***

Stacy entered the elevator and was nearly panting the whole way to her apartment. She was fantastically turned on. Years ago, she'd taken her children to Comic-Con a few times. They were both in out-of-state universities now. They had gone to the convention to get autographs from their favorite movie and TV stars and hang out with their friends. She'd even made them both costumes the last time they went.

She undressed and started the shower. The young brunette had been right, there had been a lot of young tight bodies in those costumes. She hadn't done a lot of gawking back when she was married, but she had noticed.

Her hand slid down to her right breast and pinched the nipple.

She moaned breathlessly. There were people of all ages there. Perhaps not many older folks in costumes but behind a mask, who's to say?

Stacy grabbed the loofa and squirted the pearly white body soap over it. After lathering it up, her soapy hands slid over her curvy body. The curves were all natural and she took pride in that. She spent time in the gym and ate right, making sure she didn't get too curvy the way her mother had. She had noticed both men and women admiring her recently, and she loved it. She dressed to attract their attention. The divorce had freed her to be exactly who she wanted to be. The hot MILF next door. She smiled, as her fingers danced over her vulva.

The idea of going in costume to the convention, incognito, on the prowl so-to-speak, gave her chills. Her cruise a few months ago may have started badly but had become a sexual adventure of epic proportions. She wanted more of that. She imagined peeling a tight Superman costume off a strapping young man and enjoying every inch of his muscular body. Or perhaps a Wonder Woman ...?

***

The comic convention stayed in her thoughts all through the day. A little online research told her that she had a month before the convention started. That evening, she sat in bed with her laptop.

Google search - keywords - women's cosplay costumes.

If this was something she was going to do, it couldn't just be any old character. It had to be something that fit her personality. She didn't even know who this Katniss Evergreen was. She wanted something from her past, something that had spoken to her as a powerful, sexy woman. Elvira or Cruella or Morticia Addams, maybe. And then she had it. It was perfect! She was so excited she could hardly sit still. She refined her search, found a great photo, and printed it out.