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Latex Bloom - 2
by Cordelia Speedicut (cordelia_speedicut@hotmail.com)

***

A girl is introduced to her explorer aunt's newest 
specimen - an unknown tropical plant that proves to 
have a unique and symbiotic life cycle. Stimulating and 
occasionally humorous complications result. (ff-teens, 
exh, 1st, mast, fantasy, preg)

***

Finally, Megan and Auntie Anne arrived to take me away 
for the summer. As soon as I saw them, I recognized the 
symptoms - the gunslinger walk, the flushed faces and 
bright eyes, and the bottled sexual tension. And the 
same odd wardrobe - long skirts and long loose tops. 
'God,' I thought, 'I must look just like that'. They 
only stayed long enough for a cup of tea, with the 
excuse that we still had a two-hour drive ahead of us. 
Even then, I was sure I saw Megan come once, right 
there at the table, and my Aunt was in the bathroom 
much longer than should have been strictly necessary. 

I made mom promise to water Antonio (he was my first - 
I had to call him something) and soon we were off down 
the highway, with me in the back with Megan. She and I 
shared a long hug, which, given our high level of 
excitation, was naturally followed by a rather wet 
kiss. Then I pulled free and asked my burning question. 
"What the hell is going on?"

"The plants I brought from the Amazon - it seems this 
is how they reproduce," said Auntie Anne.

I had pretty well guessed as much, but I was still 
alarmed to hear my fears confirmed. "You mean they've 
planted seeds in us?"

"Not exactly. We've only seen male flowers."

"Flowers have sex?"

"These ones sure do," giggled Megan. She had already 
shed her baggy shirt, and her hard nipples stood out 
like pencil erasers. I slid down in my seat and quickly 
followed suit. I wanted to throw my sweatshirt out the 
window.

Auntie Anne continued, patiently. "The flowers had no 
stamens - those are the female bits. So what they put 
inside us must be pollen. Sort of like plant sperm. I 
think they use our eggs to help make... whatever it is 
that's growing in us."

I got a sudden nasty chill. "Like in 'Alien'?"

"No, no. I don't think so. Those Amazonian Indians I 
met seem to almost worship this plant. It's extremely 
rare. They were very happy I'd found them some. The new 
growth is probably sustained largely by nutrients in 
the plant's ejaculate."

I looked expectantly to Meg, who translated. "She 
means, whatever's in here" - she patted her own 
slightly swollen bare belly - "is fuelled by flower 
jism." 

"And the dildo thing?" I refrained from calling it my 
cock, which is what it now felt like.

"Now that really is interesting," said Auntie, warming 
to the topic. "I think the plant and the slug are 
symbiotic. It may be a kind of slime mould."

"Ugg!" I lifted my skirt to give my own slug a hard 
stare. It seemed to know I was looking, and slid inside 
me as far as it could manage. "Oof," I added, as it 
started to wriggle deep inside me.

"The thing is, they need each other," explained Auntie. 
"The slug gets a nice warm place to live and plenty to 
eat."

"Excuse me?"

"It most likely absorbs vaginal secretions."

I turned to Meg, again. "Mamma thinks it lives on pussy 
juices. That's why we don't explode," she snickered. 


"As I was saying, the slug gets what it needs, thanks 
to the help of the plant, and in return it stimulates 
us to produce the right levels of hormones in our 
bodies, which the baby plant somehow needs. I suspect 
the slug passes its spores along to the new plant."

The stimulation from my own needy dildo (it might be 
slippery but I refused to think of it as a slimy slug) 
was making my bum squirm in my seat, and Megan leaned 
down close to my pussy to get a closer look at it. The 
heat of her gaze added fuel to the fire and I knew I 
was going to come soon. Meg knew it, too, and began to 
suck gently on my rock hard clit.

I had never before done, or thought about doing, 
anything sexual with Meg, or any other girl (or even 
boys, much)... at least, not until three weeks before. 
But now, like the kisses, it just seemed natural. And, 
at that moment, it came none too soon. As the long 
postponed orgasm swept over me, I let out a long wail. 
The car swerved violently, throwing up a plume of dust 
as it came to a halt by the side of the road.

"For God's sake," exclaimed Auntie Anne. "It's all I 
can do to drive as it is!" 

We girls waited in the back seat, hunched down to hide 
our nakedness (our long skirts having also been shed in 
the last few minutes). Cars flew steadily past, while 
Auntie frigged herself over the edge. "Yes! Yes!! 
YES!!!"

When we climbed out of the car at our destination, Meg 
and I had a stretch in the driveway, wearing only our 
sweatshirts, which drooped over our bums. Auntie Anne, 
who had been trying desperately to block the erotic 
sensations in order to drive, hustled into the house. 
As soon as the door closed, we heard a muffled shriek 
as her orgasm took hold. She had done the same thing at 
several rest stops along the way. Meg and I both 
giggled. We'd groped each other steadily and had each 
come umpteen times since we'd left the coast, although 
after that first time we were as discreet as possible, 
so as not to further upset Auntie.

Megan said, "Let's get inside, too. I can't wait to 
show you a sixty-nine."

"What's a sixty... Oh!" Sometimes I can be a quick 
study.

"There's something else we found out about the dildos. 
Mamma said I could show you when we got home." 

She led me by the hand into Auntie's big bedroom. Once 
there, she flung off her shirt, and I did the same. 

"That feels way better," she said. She pulled me close, 
so that our tits and bellies were pressed together, and 
we shared an open mouthed, tongue wrestling kiss. 

When we came up for air, Meg said, "OK, the thing is, 
when the dildos touch each other, they can join 
together into one big one."

Startled, I realized that it had already happened. We 
were standing face to face, and, when I leaned back, I 
could see that we were now linked at the pussy by a 
single flexible red rod. 

I shifted slightly, and gasped. I could now feel the 
entire surface of the combined slug creature, from 
where it was pressed against Meg's womb, deep inside 
her pussy, across to where the other end was diddling 
mine - and all the bits in between. This was going to 
be good.

It was better. Megan demonstrated how we could work out 
on the double-sized creature between us, humping on it 
until we had swallowed it all up, and then grind 
together, clit on clit. Or, we could twist our lithe 
young bodies around (if I do say it), and play spoon-
wise or tail-to-tail... as long as we left enough slack 
between us, and remembered to unwind. All the while, 
the dildo continued to do its own thing, as well - 
shifting alternately from hard to pliable, and forming 
tendrils to titillate us, inside and out. My personal 
favourite was when we took turns riding astride each 
other. It didn't matter how wild we got - it wasn't 
like it could ever pop out.

There was another thing Megan let me discover for 
myself, which I did not long after we began. Not only 
could I feel everything our shared blob touched... when 
Meg came, I could feel that too, a sort of blast of 
pleasure that pulsed through our link. Wow!

Afterwards, spent, we lay together side by side with a 
loop of the red dildo still joining us at the pussy. 
"What happens now?" I asked. I could tell that Megan 
and her mother had investigated the subject 
extensively. 

"Mmm," said my cousin, sated. "They always wait until 
we're asleep to split apart. Can't do this if you're in 
a rush to go somewhere."

"Now you tell me," I said with a giggle. There was a 
pause while I yawned, and then I added, "Need a nap 
now, anyway."

When I woke, it was to the insistent tickling of my 
dildo. As Meg had promised, it had parted company with 
hers. She was still asleep, laying on her back in all 
her bare glory. I was admiring the view when I heard a 
sound, and turned to find that Auntie Anne was there. 
She too was naked, standing with her back to the bed 
and fiddling with the blinds. It occurred to me that I 
had never seen either my cousin or my aunt unclothed 
before today. The athletic woman was beautiful in the 
dappled sunlight. With a start, I realized she had that 
glow I had associated with pregnant women - which, of 
course, is what we now all were.

"Ah. You're awake," she said, turning to stand in front 
of the bed, her shapely legs set wide apart. I could 
see the nubbin of her dildo, red like the Meg's, and 
mine. Her clit stood out prominently above it. She was 
obviously horny - hell, I thought, we all are, all the 
time. 

"Auntie?"

"Call me Anne. Feeling refreshed?"

I nodded and smiled. Anne climbed onto the bed to 
straddle me, and then lowered herself slowly until our 
two dildos touched. The things flowed together like 
mercury. Then it was away to the races. Our bouncing 
and rutting quickly woke Megan, who cheered us on.

Briefly sated after several orgasms each, we stopped 
for breath. We managed to re-arrange ourselves 
relatively comfortably, so that we were sitting face to 
face with stacks of pillows for support. It had just 
occurred to me that I was famished, when Megan padded 
in the door with a heaped up plate full of finger-food. 

After we demolished the food, Megan climbed on the bed 
and stood astride the exposed stretch of red shaft that 
linked her mother and I. Her own dildo was hanging to 
within inches of it. "What do you think?" she asked.

"Go for it," answered Anne.

Meg squatted down slightly and touched her slug to our 
combined one. Sure enough, all three seemed to melt 
together. 

"Goodness," I said. I had heard the term 'three-way' 
before, but I was pretty sure it didn't refer to three 
ladies bound together by their pussies. 

The resultant romp was a tangle of limbs and bodies all 
writhing in a great sweaty heap. Several times I 
giggled to find my self smooching my own skin. It was 
impossible to maintain any sort of rhythm, but it 
didn't matter: our three-headed mega-slug was pumping 
us all to most satisfactory heights. And 'multiple 
orgasms' doesn't begin to describe what it was like to 
feel your partners' peaks mingle with your own.

The tricky bit was afterward, since we were still 
locked together in an untidy ball; however, we were so 
worn from our exertions that sleep came quickly enough. 
When I woke, Megan was lying on top of me. A foot to 
the left and we would be re-connected. I squirmed aside 
just in time. Not that I minded, but Meg had said it 
was a challenge to have a pee in that condition. 
Apparently it called for a co-ordinated two-step to get 
to the bathroom and step into the bathtub, where both 
parties could pee and shower. I couldn't even imagine 
how to coordinate a trio-hop into the tub (I found out 
the next day. We should have sold tickets.)

That evening, the three of us made a major expedition 
to the grocery store to lay in a pile of food. When we 
got home, we stripped off again, in relief, and for the 
next six weeks we never went out of the yard and never 
put on a stitch of clothing. 

Anne and Meg had already fixed up the house by turning 
the heat up and the dehumidifier off until it was 
almost as tropical as the greenhouse, and by closing 
the front blinds for privacy. The deck was also out of 
sight, being tucked into a space between the kitchen 
and the garage; so the only exposed place was the back 
yard. We would march across to the greenhouse, 
regardless, even Anne giggling like a naughty 
schoolgirl. We spent a lot of time out there, tending 
our plants. 

More even than gardening, we liked to eat, or to take 
long steamy showers. And we liked to read or sleep on 
the sunny deck. But most of all, of course, we liked to 
fuck. Anywhere, anytime. We were always at a fever 
pitch of arousal, anyway, but our dildos were expert at 
leaving us on the edge. We would eventually be rewarded 
by wonderfully explosive orgasms, but often we just 
couldn't wait. The flow of kisses and caresses and soft 
skin and hair was perfect to smooth out the roller 
coasters of passion. 

The whole odd experience brought the three of us 
together, to become sisters and lovers. We all shared 
one bed, and spent a remarkable amount of time on it, 
writhing together in ecstasy. At the same time our 
dildos would loop and twist, caressing the nearest 
nipple or seeking an unoccupied hole to penetrate. 
Eventually, they would merge, locking us all together 
until exhaustion and sleep released us.

Basically, we spent our days in a fog of lust. Auntie 
told us this wasn't actually normal, no matter how much 
stimulation we were receiving. (What did we know?) She 
reckoned as how the slugs were secreting some sort of 
drug that was making us perpetually horny. She also 
figured the stuff would be worth a fortune if she ever 
figured out what it was. 

The early morning was when we could think clearest. 
Around the middle of July, seven weeks after being 
knocked up by the flowers, I woke up to find my head 
pillowed on Megan's growing tits and my arm sprawled 
over her very swollen belly. I probed a bit with my 
fingers, and she stirred.

"Meg - you've got a bunch of hard lumps in there."

She reached over and explored my own expanded tummy 
with her dildo-beastie, its tip divided into 
fingerlets. "Well, so do you," she said, and then she 
slid the thing down to tease my clit.

"But - what..." I was starting to loose focus.

"Seeds of some sort," said Anne from close behind me. 
"We've each got six or eight, maybe more. It's hard to 
tell for sure. Not to worry."

It was good to hear that Anne so positive that things 
would turn out all right, but it still seemed a bit 
creepy. However, what with my first orgasm of the day 
building, I soon forgot about it.

Over time, our dildos were growing ever bigger, too. 
Now when my dildo tried to suck itself up into my body, 
I could see (by craning to see over my tummy) that it 
got so scrunched up that it stretched my pussy four or 
five inches wide. Even then, there was a lot left over. 
By this point, my inner muscles were strong enough to 
squeeze it back out like bright red tooth paste - if I 
wanted.

On the other hand, when I stood up, it would often 
stretch so far as to swing down between my knees, or 
sometimes loop up to caress my belly and tits - or 
somebody else's.

As the summer wore on, we spent more and more time 
sunning ourselves on the back deck. We still had the 
odd fuck session together; but mostly, we would just 
lie on our lounges, each of us lost in her sensations, 
murmuring in her lust. Occasionally we would roll over 
to bake one or the other side - our bellies were now 
much too big for us to lay face down comfortably. By 
early August it was warm enough to stay outside through 
the night, too. Once in a while, one or another of us 
would wander into the kitchen for a snack (Anne had 
rigged a garden hose for water) or go for a pee - 
although we seemed to need to do either less and less. 

One afternoon, Anne, ever the botanist, asked me, "Do I 
look a bit green to you?"

I raised my head. "Nah - nice tan, though. Mmm. Great 
tits, too."

"Thanks. Under the tan, though. Definitely greenish." 
She went back to sleep.

Later, she tried again. "Meg, you hungry?"

"Nahh."

"Only, when did you eat last?"

"Wahzat? Ahh, God! Yes! Yes! Um, dunno. Yesterday, 
maybe? What day is it?"

"No idea. But... oh... oh! Ohhh! Mmmm. What was I 
saying? It's just I don't think I've eaten anything for 
maybe three or four days."

"So - you hungry?"

"No," she answered, dreamily. "Ahh, yeah, that's sooo 
nice!" She was quiet for a time, and then said, lazily, 
"It's the Chlorophyll, prob'ly."

A few days later, I woke up with a start. I was still 
on my lounge chair. It was daylight, but I had no idea 
what time of day it was, much less what day. There it 
was again - something moved inside me. I knew babies 
did that, but seeds? I wondered what was happening, but 
the sensation stopped, and fresh ones began as my slug-
buddy began to do its thing. Lovely.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, 
it was early evening (the same day?) and this time I 
definitely felt something odd happening. I lifted up, 
trying to see over my swollen belly. My dildo was gone 
- vanished. Instead, there was a white tendril, about 
three inches long, peeking from between my pussy lips. 
Where it left my body it was the thickness of my thumb, 
and it tapered gradually to a point. It also had tiny 
hairs along its length that tickled my pussy as it 
passed.

As it passed, I stared at the apparition, and realized 
that it was moving as I watched. Finally my mind fell 
into gear. The thing was a root, and it was now sliding 
out of me, undoubtedly in search of a place to plant 
itself. Anne had theorized that something like this 
would likely happen. 

Before I knew it, twelve inches worth was wiggling 
between my knees, and I struggled to my feet and looked 
around. Anne was nowhere to be seen, but Megan was 
stirring on her own lounge chair, her legs open to 
straddle her seat and her feet on the deck. She too had 
a long white root creeping out of her pussy.

I felt a firm twitch inside. "Ouch. Meg - wake up," I 
hissed.

Megan drowsily opened her eyes.

"Guess what," I said. "It's started." I tried to think. 
Pots - the greenhouse! Just in case, Anne had left a 
row of pots waiting out there. I hustled as fast as I 
was able toward the edge of the deck, but got no 
further than a nearby planter. The white root whipped 
frantically over toward the moist earth, so I stepped 
astride the narrow box and squatted a little. As soon 
as the thing touched the soil, it dug down into its new 
home. I found myself being dragged down by my pussy 
until my bottom was kissing the cool earth. 

Suddenly, after all that had happened, I was very near 
panic. Here I was, quite literally rooted to the spot - 
was Anne right, or was I turning into some kind of 
plant?

In very short order, Megan found herself crouched 
facing me, rooted to the planter in the same way. Her 
hands were on her big belly, her eyes open wide. 
"Mamma!"

"In here, Meg," Anne called back, from the kitchen. "I 
was getting the camera and got caught short." We could 
just see her through the patio doors, squatting over a 
potted fern. If I hadn't been so scared, I would have 
laughed out loud. Anne had for weeks been taking 
pictures of the plants, our slugs, and our responses to 
their stimulation - recording our experiences, she told 
us, in case she could someday still be able to submit a 
paper on her discovery. 

I fervently hoped the front page wouldn't be a photo of 
three big shrubberies in a back yard, one of which had 
a camera stuck in the top branches. 

Is if reading my thoughts, Anne called, "Don't worry!"

I couldn't imagine why not, but before I could think of 
anything to say, I felt my belly contract. I winced. 
"Now what?" 

There seemed to be no answer to that. It looked like we 
were about to give birth, just as Anne had predicted. 
But how, and to what, remained to be seen. Meg and I 
stared at each other helplessly for a few minutes. 
Nothing more happened, but we could hear unsettling 
gasps coming from inside the house.

And then I had another, stronger, contraction. At the 
same time something shifted inside my womb, and I felt 
a tug on the root that passed inside of me. I breathed 
heavily, and every few minutes yet another contraction 
gripped me. Each time, my body pushed. By now, Megan 
was doing the same. We were both sweating, and making 
the same gasps and grunts as were coming from Anne. For 
the next half hour, we laboured on. 

At last, after a great push, I forced from my stretched 
pussy a leathery brown seed pod, the size of a 
grapefruit and covered with my slippery inner juices. 
It landed solidly between my feet. I grunted in relief 
and satisfaction, and then watched in amazement as it 
shook and twisted - its taproot was dragging it down 
into the loosened soil. I didn't even register the fact 
that a second pale root had started to slide out of my 
body until it was too late. Crap! Once more I found 
myself rooted to the ground. I sank back down at the 
thing's pull, and again I found myself pushing and 
puffing as my contractions resumed. I tried to decide 
exactly how many lumps I had felt when prodding my 
belly. Six? Eight? Enough to keep me sprogging seeds 
for some time.

Megan soon dropped a big seed of her own into the 
planter, and like me she was quickly re-rooted, having 
been distracted by the sight of her naked mother 
waddling determinedly across the deck in the direction 
of the greenhouse. There was already a fresh white root 
swinging between Anne's thighs, and it actually snaked 
out ahead of her to the lawn at the edge of the deck. 
With a resigned sigh, she stepped over it and let it 
draw her down until her pussy was pressed to the grass.    

Happily, I found my second seed came free of me a bit 
more easily than the first one had. When it dropped, I 
stood and stretched my stiff back and legs. Even as I 
did so, I could feel yet another root emerging between 
my legs. Meg was on her feet now, too, but Anne was 
still hunched over the lawn. Looking over her shoulder, 
she said, "This may take a while - it's having trouble 
digging into this hard ground. Best you girls keep to 
the garden beds."

I took her word for it and hobbled straight for the 
flowers at the edge of the house. Meg, who was likewise 
decorated with her third root, did the same, but picked 
a spot on the other side of her sweating mother. We 
were both quickly anchored among the begonias, focusing 
on our straining bellies.

And so the three of us slowly made a peculiar 
progression across the back yard, each determined to 
reach the greenhouse. Our paths zigzagged from one 
flowerbed to the next, as, one at a time, fresh shoots 
kept on emerging from our pussies in search of a home. 
I planted my fourth under a lilac bush, and then made 
it all the way to a decorative cherry tree in the 
middle of the yard before I felt the next yank on my 
womb. Once again I was tugged back down to a squat. 

I braced myself against the trunk of the little tree 
and looked around. Anne had nearly made it to the 
greenhouse - she was crouching in a patch of tulips by 
the door, where another powerful root had stopped any 
further progress. Meanwhile, Megan was hunched over in 
the rockery. Beyond her, over the fence, I saw our 
nosey old neighbour, Mister Whippet, watching us from 
his porch. Oddly, he didn't seem to be reacting to the 
bizarre scene. His eyesight must be terrible, I 
thought. I winced at the next contraction, and then 
gave the man a friendly wave. "Just out here 
gardening," I muttered. I glanced back at Megan, who 
was closest to the fence. My friend's green-tinted tan 
made her hard to see among the Rhododendrons. Whippet 
probably hadn't noticed her at all.

Another contraction gripped my now shrinking belly, and 
I had to pay attention to my own situation. I finally 
forced another big seed out of my body to land with a 
wet thud at my feet. After a brief inspection to see 
that it was healthy, I hurried to continue my journey 
to the greenhouse. Two more stops were necessary, both 
spent sitting among some roses in plain view of our 
neighbour, and then I was in the shelter of the 
greenhouse. Anne was already there, rooted to one of 
the pots she had specially prepared for the blessed 
event. She had already seeded several others, nearby. 

I hustled over to a free pot and sat my sore pussy down 
on it, but I felt no more contractions. It just 
figures, I thought, but to be sure, I waited there for 
a bit. To pass the time, I examined one of Anne's seeds 
in the pot next to me. The root had managed to pull the 
big seed right into the loose soil, and a pale green 
shoot had already appeared to mark the spot.

Megan finally stumbled in to join us, and plopped a 
long writhing tendril into a waiting pot. That proved 
to be her last, and so fifteen minutes later, Anne and 
I, who were both now done, helped her to her feet.

I felt completely spent, but, as we hoisted Megan up, I 
started to laugh. The whole thing had been so absurd, 
and now it was done. I laughed until I wept, and the 
others joined in. When we were all quite sure we had 
finished our labours, we joined in a group hug. 

"Did you see old man Whippet?" I gasped.

"Ha! You should have seen your own face!" Meg wheezed, 
the tears streaming.

When we had recovered slightly, we hosed each other 
down with cool water. Feeling refreshed, we then 
stepped out the door and threw ourselves down to lay 
right out on the lawn, drying in the cool evening 
breeze... Mister Whippet be damned. 

After we had rested, we dug up all the little plants we 
had deposited around the yard and transferred them into 
the greenhouse. The one inside the house we left - it 
would be happy enough there. 

The rest of the summer was anticlimactic – we dragged 
Auntie's exercise stuff out onto the deck and worked on 
restoring our muscle tone. Our shapely figures soon 
returned, with only a minimal amount of extra fat and 
stretch marks from our strange pregnancies. And – bonus 
– Meg and I now sported significantly enhanced 
knockers. 

We still slept in the same bed together, and continued 
to indulge in gentle sessions of sex. The flavour was 
different now – the intensity was less and the intimacy 
was greater – but it was just as satisfying. At the 
same time, we resumed some of our old interests. Anne 
managed to get in some research and Meg and I finally 
made it to the mall.

We also continued to spent time just soaking up the 
sun, although our green tinting faded away. We needed 
the rest – overall, our carnal summer had been 
exhausting. 


When they took me back to the coast at the beginning of 
September, in time for school, I carried along one of 
my seedlings. "For your mother," said Anne, giving me a 
lingering goodbye kiss. "See you at Christmas."

Continued in part 3...

Note - Having enjoyed 'Late Bloomer' by Dragonfly and 
the 2002 remake 'Latex Flower' by Erwin Stevens, I 
thought I would take the liberty of expanding the core 
plot of the former and recruiting the cast from the 
latter to cobble together my own adaptation. CS

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 44