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From: "Joris Huysmans" <joriskhuysmans@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} HAWAIIAN BABY WOODROSE (MF, BBW, interr)
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Date: Fri, 11 May 2007 17:10:01 -0400
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A new seasonal BBW story for fans out there, always glad to hear from those 
who enjoy them at joriskhuysmans spfft! hotmail pfpt! com.


HAWAIIAN BABY WOODROSE
by Joris K. Huysmans

It was a short walk from the parking lot to the entrance of the garden 
center, but far enough for Rose to have already started sweating.  True, it 
was an uncomfortably hot morning, and the sun grew more merciless as the 
minutes passed, but the reason had as much to do with Rose as with the heat. 
  She had dressed lightly for the day-- a thin polyester dress with a floral 
pattern, sandals, a broad-brimmed hat-- but at 44 she was not a petite 
woman, and it didn't take much exertion for a film of sweat to form on her 
brow, her chest, and under her arms.

She hoped it might seem cooler inside the long rows of plants and flowers, 
away from the black asphalt of the parking lot, but if it did it wasn't by 
much.  As she looked around at various flowering plants and shrubs, feathery 
fronds and snaking green stalks, her thoughts turned to her weight, as they 
often did, and from there to her lack of a love life, as they often did as 
well.  She attributed the latter to the former, though it might have been 
truer to say that she indulged the former because she had given up on the 
latter.

If she had thought about it, she certainly could have named any number of 
friends who had reached a similar size at a similar age, yet were in healthy 
(or even hyperactive) sexual relationships.  In Rose's case, it was less a 
matter of weight than of the fact that everything about her-- the round 
puffball of teased and shellacked hair, the matronly attire, the powdery 
body scent, the sensible shoes-- gave off a distinct air of permanent 
sexlessness.  She seemed simultaneously uninterested in, uninteresting at, 
and incapable of pleasing a man in bed; seducing her would be like trying to 
interest a moose in the high jump.

But she had a beautiful garden-- gardening, like food, being one of her 
consolations and forms of self-expression.  She worked her way along a row 
of shrubs and then came to one she didn't think she'd seen before-- broad 
leaves on a clinging vine, and here and there a white bell-shaped flower 
with a shocking pink interior.  She lifted one frond up and took a whiff of 
it-- musky and strong, not sweet-- and as she did a loose berry rolled off 
the plant and dropped into her mouth.  She gasped in surprise-- and in an 
instant she had swallowed it, quite inadvertently.

Oh dear! she thought.  This could be quite serious!  She looked around the 
base of the plant for a tag and found it.  Argyreia nervosa-- Hawaiian baby 
woodrose.  Relative of morning glory, native to Asia and Hawaii... seeds are 
eaten as a mild psychoactive related to LSD-- good heavens!  Still, Rose 
rationalized, if people ate seeds, plural, for that purpose, one seed was 
unlikely to do a great deal.  It was silly to be overly concerned.  Perhaps 
a bit too readily, she put it out of her head and moved along to look at 
other plants.

A few minutes later, though, she began to feel distinctly uncomfortable.  
The sunlight seemed to be growing brighter, and she was feeling warmer, in 
fact as she looked down she saw that her dress was quite damp.  Not far away 
a tall, dark-skinned young man who was spraying the plants with a hose 
turned to look at her-- and the look on his face as he turned to look at her 
told the story.  He rushed over to her as her knees started to buckle and 
just barely was able to hold her up to guide her to a bench placed 
fortunately just a few feet away.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he said as he wet a cloth with his hose, then 
held it up to her face.  The cool water was instant relief.

"The heat..." she said, and then she realized she had better tell him 
everything.  "Also... this will seem silly but... I accidentally swallowed a 
seed.  The Hawaiian baby woodrose."

His eyes opened wide and she was shocked to see him laughing at her plight.  
But she didn't begrudge it, he had a kindly, funny face-- a big nose, a wide 
smile, black-framed glasses like you saw on so many college kids these days. 
  Really kind of cute, not that she had ever thought that way about-- what 
was he?  Black?  Middle eastern?  Polynesian?  Hawaiian baby...?

"...all tried it at some point," he was saying, and she tried to focus on 
him, realizing she'd been drifting.  "I'm pretty sure one won't do you any 
harm.  They say it's a psychedelic and even an--" he lowered his voice-- 
"aphrodisiac, but all anybody here seemed to get from it was a little happy 
feeling.  I'm sure you'll be all right."

Aphrodisiac!  My heavens, thought Rose.  And as she contemplated the thought 
she did start to feel something run through her body, something she hadn't 
felt in a long time; a kind of tingle in her thighs, her stomach... oh, 
don't be silly.

She thanked him and moved along, taking only one backwards glance at him as 
she walked on.  She liked the look of his buns, as her friends called them.  
Nice muscular legs in his shorts, like someone who biked a lot.  Oh, what 
was she thinking, she put him out of her mind and continued on her way, 
looking at big leafy palms and brilliant red and purple annuals.

The colors of the flowers seemed to swirl and grow before her, intense, 
overwhelming.  The fronds of the palms swayed back and forth, the sun beat 
down, the heat from the outside seemed to be matched by a surging force 
within her.  She thought again of the young man, his tight ass, his strong 
legs as they must piston up and down, pumping his bike-- Rose, what has come 
over you!  She hadn't fantasized like this in years, and as she did she felt 
the heat almost overpowering her.  Another hose was nearby, no one was 
around, she could mist herself like they did the plants and cool down--

Unfortunately Rose didn't really know how to work the hose and before she 
even could release the lever and point it away she had drenched herself, 
letting out a little scream in the process.  And a moment later the young 
man appeared, clearly concerned by the noise.  Deeply embarassed, Rose tried 
to mutter an explanation for the fact that she was now soaking wet from head 
to toe.

To the young man, though, it had to be said that in many ways Rose had made 
an improvement.  The puffball of shellacked hair now lay flat, curling 
loosely around her face in a much more youthful, relaxed way.  And the 
dress, once shapelessly indistinct, now clung tightly to Rose's form, 
revealing not a thin figure, of course, but a shapely mature form, buxom 
breasts, earthy broad hips.

Even in her embarassment Rose sensed that he saw her as a woman for the 
first time-- and all the thoughts she had been repressing, about his thighs 
pumping and his tight buns in her hands and his body between her legs, 
overwhelmed her like the waves of heating coming up from the pavement.  This 
wasn't natural, she knew, it must be the effect of the Hawaiian baby 
woodrose, but there was no further hope resisting it.  She grabbed his 
shorts and pulled him toward her, pressing her lips to his.  He was 
startled, but then he was pleased, and she felt him take her broad butt in 
his hands, working it through the damp dress, and she knew he was hers.

He broke the clutch, pressed his finger to his lips and started leading her 
back through the nursery and then through a little wooden gate.  They went 
around the greenhouse and found a shaded spot, out of view, where leaves and 
petals which had fallen off the plants were left to mulch in a large, soft 
pile, as big as a bed.

She sat down and then lay back on the bed of leaves and petals, pulling him 
down with her into this wonderland of jarringly bright colors and 
intoxicatingly flowery scents.  She pulled her skirt up and he ran his hand 
up her sturdy long thigh as they kissed, deeply, her tongue exploring his 
mouth, her hand stroking his fuzzy black hair.  She had never felt hair like 
his, she realized.  His other hand massaged her big round breast under her 
dress, and she soon unbuttoned the top and let it slide off her shoulders, 
then unsnapped her bra in back and pulled it off over her head, exposing her 
breast.  He sucked at the nipple eagerly and as he did she ran her hand 
across his shorts for the first time, feeling the hardness within respond to 
her touch and press back.

She had to have it now, a cock in her mouth, it had been years.  Then it was 
something she had done, dutifully, with her husband during their brief 
marriage-- short marriage, long afterlife of divorce.  She had certainly 
never craved it as she did now, pushing him back into the flowers, petals 
leaping into the air and scattering around them, then moving down and 
unzipping his shorts to reveal the coffee-brown, gloriously ugly beast 
pointing up at her.  The sight of it was coarse, a shock, like "fuck" yelled 
from a car.  She loved that part of it and took the head in her mouth 
greedily, delighting in the idea of sucking a thick brown cock.  As she did 
she moved down and rubbed herself in her panties.  She sucked it greedily, 
and in a few minutes she could feel it twitching in response to her work and 
then-- a salty blast in her mouth, another one, she rolled it around the 
head of the cock as she sucked it and then swallowed it, something she had 
never done before.

She lay back in the flowers and leaves and reveled in the thought of what 
she had done.  Now he ministered to her quietly, less urgently, sucking on 
her breasts, rubbing her clit inside her panties, then sliding a hand 
inside-- the shock of the feel of a finger on her pussy as it found a 
slippery welcome.  He moved down and pulled her panties off, then it was the 
electrifying sensation of his tongue touched to her wet slit, as he kneaded 
her big ass and his hair flopped against her belly with each lick.  It only 
took seconds of this before she was screaming, sticking a hand in her own 
mouth to keep it quiet, clamping his face tightly between her thighs as each 
throbbing contraction of her orgasm seemed to run through her like a jolt 
from a car battery.

She needed him in her now, she had to have cock in her, complete the 
feeling; she had not known that she had needed this so badly but that seed, 
the single aphrodisiac seed from the Hawaiian baby woodrose, had revealed 
something inside her that had been buried for so long, had unleashed a 
desire that she now knew had to be satisfied, today and often in the future. 
  She reached down and felt him half hard in her hand, so she sat up and 
clumsily bent over to lick the tip again, where that glorious spurt had come 
from that she could still taste.  He was hard enough in a few moments and so 
she lay back, legs open wide, and he climbed upon her.  Again, electricity 
ran through her as a cock, so long missed, plumbed inside her.  It was just 
as she had fantasized, his muscular thighs grinding and pumping against her 
abundant softness, her fat jiggling in every direction as he thrust into 
her.  She was making love, she was being fucked, she had the thing she had 
been missing for so long, cock--

Although, tasting her own pussy juices on his mouth, she suddenly wondered 
what licking a woman would be like, too.

*  *  *

The manager looked at the arrangement for a moment, then sketched a plan in 
the air with his hand.  "And let's move the azaleas onto this rack, and move 
some of these-- what are those there?"

A young blonde woman looked at the tag.  "Hawaiian baby woodrose," she said. 
  Then she stopped and looked at some small round objects which had 
collected in the middle of the plant.  "Ooh, there's something all over it." 
  She looked around and found a plastic wrapper thrown on the ground.

"What is it?" the manager asked.

"Jelly bellies," she said.  "Weird, somebody spilled a whole thing of jelly 
bellies here."

"Well, clean `em up before they turn to goo in this heat," he said.

She pulled the leaf down and a dozen or so jelly bellies rolled off of it 
and into her hand.  She picked a few more out, then dropped them into the 
trash bag on her cart, and began transferring the Hawaiian baby woodroses 
from the shelf onto the cart.

_________________________________________________________________
PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best Web mail--award-winning Windows 
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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