Lips
by Ian Rafael Titus©
...
Above, the cerulean sky scarred by vaulted branches. Below his bare feet, a forgotten path, overgrown with spiraling ferns. And ahead? Release.

From undone denim overalls, Corey released his half-hard cock and, blue-green eyes closed, threw back his head, spilling tangerine hair past his shoulders, and waited for the stream to come.

As he pulled the lip of his foreskin back along the dark red glans he tried not to waste energy getting too upset.

Didn’t even wait for me to cum just zipped his big cock back into paint-splattered dungarees and strode away.

Bastard. Motherfucking-son-of-a-cunting-whore.

The piss sprayed out of him and he let out an orgasmic sigh. He shuddered, smiling and, eyes still closed, waved his prick back and forth, watering the ground like a garden hose.

The afternoon sun felt wonderful on his face. As he shook the last drops of piss he breathed in deep, inhaling the scent of --

He opened his eyes and stumbled backwards at the sight before him.

Tulips. He was surrounded by crimson and golden tulips that had not been there before he’d closed his eyes. There’s no way that he could’ve missed them. Impossible.

What the fuck?

His body tingled deliciously and became highly sensitive to the denim brushing his skin. As if in response, the overalls slipped to the ground in a heap around his ankles.

And his hands leapt to his chest, fingers fondling aroused pink-red nipples.

A soothing languor swept through him like opium. As if from far away, he observed himself step out of his overalls and drop slowly into the sea of flowers.

I’m dreaming. I’m still on the ground where that asshole left me and I’ve dozed off. Yeah.

Beneath his body lay a tangle of flowers crushed by his weight. They prickled against his fair skin, leaving tiny hickies across his back, ass, and legs.

Corey’s nineteen year-old-body writhed slowly against the tulips he had crushed. Again he closed his eyes, and lost himself to the heightened sensitivity of his flesh and mind.

As he laid there, body warmed by the hazy summer sun, Corey felt lips beneath him, tenderly kissing his skin. He opened his eyes. The tulip stems were wrapping themselves about his limbs, burning his skin with their prickly kiss. And the tulips which surrounded him bent their graceful necks toward him, and their petals nipped at his face, his lips, his chest and its nipples, his smooth stomach and fiery pubic hair.

Corey’s cock stood at attention, uncut and curved like a scimitar. A bulb bent towards it and wrapped the red mushroom head within its petals. Corey cried out as, simultaneously, a tulip beneath him teased the tender flesh of his butthole.

The tulips kissed his lips, his nose, and nuzzled at his throat. Stamens tickled his nostrils. Corey was coated in flower dust. He breathed it into his lungs like cannabis and felt a rush of blood to the head.

He felt the insistent tulip bud enter his asshole, and it felt like a silky cock-head, even bigger than that of his half-hour runaway lover. A tulip made its way into each of Corey’s hands and he ran his thick fingers along their soft folds, soft and hard the way cocks are.

Corey groaned as the tulip pushed into him, teasing the heart of his asshole into a mad frenzy. He spread his legs into the sizzling air and thrilled to the tulip bulb and stem gliding back and forth inside him, back and forth, as the other tulips worshipped the rest of him with kisses that were growing ferocious and demanding.

He gulped air, his nostrils tingling from the scents of ripe earth, flowers, and his own lust, redolent as musk.

Through Corey’s veins coursed a lust he had never felt before, a lust so intense it was euphoric.

And then, the tulip head slammed against his asshole’s heart, and the sky above him exploded with crimson and gold petals.

Corey screamed, and a tulip made its way into his open mouth. He gagged on it, as heartily as he had gagged on that guy’s hard-on earlier. It was bittersweet, like cum.

And like cum, Corey felt something squirt down his throat, into his lungs, flooding his being. His own juices churned until thick ivory strings of cum streamed from his cock, splashing like a warm shower over his face and chest.

Fuck.

But unlike a man, the tulips within Corey did not withdraw. They pushed on, one down his throat, one up his ass, until they collided against each other.

Corey never knew if he screamed, though he must have.

All he knew was that the world turned into a whirling kaleidoscope, and that a wind unlike any he had ever felt swept through his body and soul, cleansing, liberating as the embrace of the beloved.

Earth, sky, flesh. All shattered like glass in Corey’s mind, leaving nothing but an avalanche of glittering shards.


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