Part: 1 of 1
Warning: Explicit sexual content. Distribution to minors forbidden.
Disclaimer: This following is a work of fiction intended purely for the entertainment of its readers. Any depiction of actual persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.
Summary: Sometimes Emily gets a salad; Sometimes a salad gets Emily. The sequel to "Adventures in Horticulture".
Emily had a secret. A discovery both tantalizing and at the same time super creepy and it occupied her every waking thought. For the past week, she had been engaging in a clandestine affair with a lover whose very nature made the relationship a dark perversion she dare not reveal to anyone. It had been an awakening for Emily in both mind and body. A liberation as the vicarious lust she used to derive from romance novels was utterly displaced and cast aside by a material sexual outlet that enticed her flesh like nothing she had ever known. It was on the preceding weekend she had stumbled upon a tremendous sexual discovery in the adjoining greenhouse of her neighbor, Professor Masterson whose house she was asked to watch and maintain while the professor was away. She dared not utter this new secret to anyone because her new sex partner was not a man nor even a beast... but a vegetable.
An insentient, green, earth-bound, herbal love machine that had chemically aroused her to near delirium and then fucked her to peaceful repose. Quite by accident while innocently reading one of her lady-smut novels she was overcome by the intoxicating fragrance exuded by a towering flower stalk the professor grew in the corner. Within a matter of minutes, Emily was induced to strip naked and masturbate at the base of the large flower. What transpired after that was a slow progression of events that culminated in Emily getting the fuck of her life with orgasms so powerful they eclipsed conscious thought. It was a startling revelation but an experience Emily could not help but to relive every opportunity she could as long as the professor was away. What the plant gained from their exchanges she could only guess. What harm the plant might be doing her she tried not to think of.
Over the period of the following week, profound changes manifested themselves in Emily. Something awoke in her. Something that was always in her, stirring just beneath her calm, quiet demeanor, but dormant and obscured by her professional countenance, was turning her into a sexual being. The change was sensual, strong and tied firmly to her libido. It was discretely personal at first but quickly burst from her in ways that were obvious to everyone about her. The changes started on the morning after that first tryst with her plant lover. She shaved her entire pubic region bare. She did it to give her new paramour simpler access to her pussy. She also did it so she could better feel all of the subtle sensations the plant's gentle petals and hair-like feelers swathed over her skin.
Her outward appearance also changed over the course of the week, starting with her hair. She usually kept it pinned up and out of her way, but she now let it down to flow over her shoulders and down her back. She found that she loved the feel of it on her neck and indulging her senses was becoming a priority in her life. The reading glasses she always wore now became an item she only donned when necessary. She stopped buttoning her blouse all the way to the top button and forsook her prim cravats and scarves in preference to an exposed neckline. She began wearing those form-fitting slit skirts her sister was always buying her. She found she liked the way three-inch heals, which she never before wore to work, tensed the muscles in her legs and accentuated their shape. She liked even more the way four-inch heals made her butt pop out, but that was overkill for a work environment. Her voice became softer and she embraced a new skill in making men nervous with just a casual, even gaze.
She was always pretty. She had a round face with mostly small features. Her mouth was narrow, her nose tiny, though her eyes large, brown and innocent-looking. The reliable, bookish brunette was now an undeniable office distraction. She became in all ways a sensual being and she owed it all to her strange new lover.
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Today was Friday and Emily sat in her office. Last night was her last meeting with the strange paramour. Tonight her neighbor, Prof. Caroline Masterson, would be returning home from her seminar and stand permanently between Emily and the sex she longed for. Yet she couldn't stop thinking about it, though. Every spare moment of her day had been spent on thoughts about the plant and what her next encounter with it would be like. And now her mind struggled with an urge to take the afternoon off and race home for one last encounter in that magical greenhouse. Just one more last passage into that delirious, opiate dream induced by the plant's overwhelming aphrodisiac cloud. Just one more exposure to the delicately tickling fibers dancing around her entrapped pussy. Just to have a few more minutes of those embracing petals around her ass as that delightful stigma fucked deeply into her. To have one more encounter to remember by and keep forever was calling to her through all her senses. But that was madness. Her neighbor could come home at any moment and she would not recover in time. Desperation leads to horrendous tactical blunders and she needed to control herself no matter how strong the lure.
And it was happening again now as she sat at her desk. The hollowness of an idle moment was allowing the recall of her experience with that wonderful plant to float to the top of her consciousness. The narcotic effect of the mysterious plant's overpowering pheromones replayed in her mind. Along with it, the sensations on her skin replayed. The tingling caused by the plant's sap drooling over her upturned ass alone was ecstasy. It was a foreplay to the wet, firm grasp of the petals sliding over her butt cheeks and slipping between her upper thighs. And best yet, the pistil with its lightly groping anthers at the tip exploring their way into her delicate folds, making way for the soft push of the pistil gaining her intimate depths. The suck and push of the petals squeezing their grapple about her crotch to impel the firm implement in and out of her.
As her mind kept drifting over the sensuous details of her erotic trips into her neighbor's greenhouse, her hand strayed under her desk, to her knee, up the inside of her thigh in response to needs she could barely resist. Lust was calling her to encroach upon that epicenter of pleasure that was even now dampening her gusset. Her hand moved under her desk, crept up her skirt, and slid aside her panties to tease her dewy moist crevice.
With all pubic hair gone, her finger easily slid over the bare skin and found her inner labia. She parted them and groped between. She needed the slick secretions to aid her assault on her yearning clit. She pushed her finger into the deep open well of her vagina. Deep to the first joint, deeper to the second joint, pushing hard she plunged he middle finger in almost up to the knuckle and stirred it round. Oh, those were the sensations she craved. She felt her nipples harden against her silky camisole. She curled and twisted her finger to relish the sensation and push her arousal higher.
Her clit was calling for attention. She knew a very nice orgasm was waiting for her and this was the time to seize it. She raked her finger against the roof of her cunt to stroke her G-spot on her withdrawal. Slickly primed, she slowly traced the labial vale upward, circled her urethra a couple of times and then encroached upon her delightful pleasure button. Her finger lightly touched over the ridge of the hood and she braced herself for the avalanche she was about to trigger.
There was the usual abrupt click from the intercom and the voice of her secretary came through, "Mr. Soetoro to see you."
Emily almost screamed in frustration. Nothing could kill a sensual mood worse than Barry could. Barry was a tall, intrusive dork with a pencil neck and protruding ears. He had a nasal voice and affected a downhome accent with an air of being erudite. Her day shift supervisor had gone out on a date with him once and had commented 'If he even has a dick, I'll bet he doesn't know why.' Emily already knew what this impromptu meeting was about. "Send him in, please."
He poked his head through the doorway first, "Catch you at a bad time?"
"Not at all," Emily lied. She felt like throwing something at him but she calmed herself, slowly drew up the finger that she had just been pleasuring herself with and slipped it between her lips. She lackadaisically sucked on it and wrestled her annoyance into submission as she watched Barry settled himself into a chair opposite her desk.
"Aaaah'll get right to the point," he started with mortgaged importance. "I was denied a priority advance for my sales projection project. Shannon told me she couldn't accommodate me and said I would have to wait until system resources became available."
As her tongue casually cleaned her finger, Emily showed him a concerned frown and waited for more (there was always more). She took off her glasses, folded them, and hung them through the top of her open blouse. She lowered her chin and gazed evenly at him under her level brow.
"Aaaah told her, those sales numbers are crucial and aaah had to have them uh... by, by Monday." He paused to let that soak in. "' told her I'd take this directly to you and then to Don."
The threat to go over her head to her boss was not lost on Emily, but contrary to her usual mousey countenance, she did not feel like getting pushed around today. She quickly pushed her skirt down with her other hand and then abruptly rose to her feet and looked him squarely in the eye, startling him. "This isn't a service station, Barry," she emphasized her position by slamming her palms on her desk as she leaned over it. "Our resources are limited and priority is assigned by first come, first served basis AFTER all scheduled essential commitments."
Leaning over her desk forced Barry to choose between looking at her face and looking at her cleavage. Foolishly, he chose her cleavage. When he noticed that she had caught him at it, his eyes began to dart around nervously as he realized he had just handed her a sexual harassment hatchet. "If the folks upstairs don't have my figures by uh, uh... Monday... they, they might have something to say."
She could have let him off easy with a simple comment about his habitual procrastination, however her blood was up and she had him on the run. "This weekend is not only Month-end, it is Quarter-end," she stated as she slowly walked around her desk. "These functions are not only crucial for the stockholders but for the IRS, as well." She stopped in front of him and then pushed her butt up on to the desk. She felt the fabric of her skirt hug her hips and she smoothed it down to accentuate her curves. "Everybody knows that, including... the folks upstairs." She crossed her legs enjoying the feel of the stockings climbing her legs. She bounced a leg, daring him to stare at them. He did. After she caught him the second time, he began squirming in his seat and desperately searching for anything to look at instead of Emily.
She was obviously intimidating him with some hidden power she never knew she had. This was an awakening for her and she was enjoying it. He had come to browbeat her with threats to go over her head and she had turned it back on him by simply being herself, or at least by being what she had become. She could tell that he did not want to be there anymore.
"Well," he said in a petulant tone. "If... uh, if that is your last word."
"It's not my word," she clarified and then pressed her chest outward, pressing her nipples into her blouse. Once they caught his attention, he really began to fidget. He stood up and turned to the door, almost stumbling over the chair. Then she added, "The Month-end is paramount and we all need to plan our work around that schedule." She did not want him to go away mad, just to go away.
