Chaos reined, everyone shouted at once. Ona grabbed one of my mom’s legs, Clementina the other, and pulled. I reached down into the bloody fluid, feeling for her shoulders and pulling, but something wouldn’t let go. I struck out with my hand, trying to find something to hit, but found none except for a single appendage that was wrapped around my mother’s midsection underneath her breasts.
My mother slowly, inexorably disappeared under the red fluid.
I leapt up on the rim of the urn and was about to dive in after her when the red soup erupted out in front of me, my mom rising into the air above the urn, her body covered in the blood-like liquid.
At first I thought she was levitating, then I saw the appendage wrapped around her midsection, hoisting her in the air. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled to the side, unconscious. A trickle of the red fluid ran from the corner of her mouth, her hair was slicked wetly to her skull.
Behind me Ona screamed.
“What is that? WHAT THE LIVING FUCK IS THAT?” she cried, backing away slowly until her back was against the far wall. Clementina and I involuntarily both took a step backwards but remained only a few feet from the urn, looking for an opportunity to jump in and pull my mother out from the thing’s grasp.
But then a curious thing happened. Instead of doing anything seemingly hostile, the strange reddish tentacle very gently laid my mother down on the stone chaise. My mother lay back, resting her shoulders on the raised portion. She coughed once, and her eyes opened. She looked across the mouth of the urn at Clementina and I, standing aghast in the room beyond. Our eyes met, then we both looked at the thing in the urn.
The red appendage reared above the urn, it’s tip pointed at my mother. I wished I had an ax or a shovel or anything I could use to whack this alien freak that was threatening my mother. But the tentacle lowered itself to the edge of the urn, then softly and slowly slipped up to my mother’s feet.
It moved softly, gently, in a fashion that was not in any way menacing. In fact if I hadn’t seen it drag my mother into the red fluid I would wonder if it presented any kind of threat at all. It slipped up her leg and up her stomach, between her breasts, until it’s tip hovered before her lips.
Then it very gently, softly, kissed her.
“Well isn’t that just the cutest…” Clementina said.
“Cute?” I rejoined. “It just dragged my mother into the drink. I hardly think it was cute.”
“Maybe it didn’t know and thought it was being threatened. Maybe it overreacted and just realized we weren’t hostile. Aw, look, it’s adorable.”
Soft mewing sounds were emanating from under the red water in the urn. I cautiously approached and looked down into the liquid. It was clear enough that I could see at least six or seven feet down. Beyond that was something large that blocked much of the well, though I couldn’t see what it was. But there were at least two more tentacle-like arms slithering around in the liquid, and quite possibly more.
I turned my attention back to my mother. She had lost her bikini and thong in the chaos in the urn. She lay on her back nude, with the tentacle positioned so it climbed up from the bottom of the chaise, ran between her legs, riding up across her small bush and navel, up between her breasts, to her face, where it was softly nuzzling her cheeks and planting kisses on her lips. My mother stroked the length of the thing, running her hands across it’s damp, scaly skin like it was her pet. More of the mewing sounds drifted from the urn.
As my mother stroked it, the thing began to pulsate, sliding itself back and forth across her skin, pressing itself between her mountainous, milky, phallite breasts, pushing into the hollow between her thighs and rubbing against her thick labia and clitoris. My mother stroked the creature more, moaning herself in response to the mewing that continued from within the urn.
The tip of the tentacle kissed my mother again, and she opened her mouth. The very end of the appendage slipped between her lips. She ran her hands up along the length of it, stroking it as if she were stroking a cock. She leaned her head forward and sucked more of the thing into her mouth.
Ona had moved forward and now stood next to the urn.
“Wow,” she said. “I wonder if I can get any of that funky action.” She lifted one leg over and was into the red fluid before I could stop her. A moment later she, too, rose up in the air held by another tentacle, except she was deposited carefully and gently back next to me, and the appendage withdrew to hover over the urn.
“Huh,” I said. “I guess it’s only one customer at a time.”
While Ona had been testing the waters, my mother had been providing fellatio to the first tentacle. I could see the distension of her neck as she deep-throated the thing. The second appendage that had handled Ona also slipped into play, sliding up the chaise next to the first, except this one stopped between my mother’s legs, hovering outside her slit as if waiting for permission to enter.
My mother looked down at the second tentacle, which ran it’s tip up the opening between her labia, then caressed the underside of her thick engorged clitoris that was peeking out from its hood. Slime poured from my mother’s pussy and ass, surging with the attentions from the slick appendage. She reached her hand down and pulled her meaty lobes apart, spreading her slick, slime-filled snatch for the creature. The tentacle hesitated for a moment, then slipped inside. She moaned as the member slipped deeper and deeper inside her.
Both tentacles now set up a back and forth motion, sliding in and out of her mouth and her slit in perfect synchronization. My mother closed her eyes and let the creature do the work, surrendering herself to the experience. She moaned around the tentacle that was penetrating her throat as fresh gushes of slime coursed from her snatch, her ass, and her mouth, pouring over her body and the scaled things that were invading her.
Her breasts poured a steady stream of milk as the things worked on her, the liquid dripping from her long, wide, erect nipples atop their engorged, pendulous mounds. My mother moaned again, arching her back as an orgasm overtook her, more slime pouring from every orifice.
“Jesus, that’s hot,” Clementina said. She pulled off her bikini top and thong, letting her own milky phallite breasts swing free. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the urn, spread her legs and gestured to me. Her ass hovered in the air above her pussy, both pouring out slime, her asshole already gaping in anticipation of what was to come. Clementina reached back and slipped two fingers inside the pink, puckered orifice, stretching it open even wider, the pink crumpled flesh begging to be penetrated.
“Make love to my ass, lover,” she said. “Fuck it like you did last night.”
Never one to argue with a request like that, especially a request to fuck a perfect phallite ass – and the first perfect phallite ass I ever set my eyes on – I pushed my swimsuit off and stroked my phallite cock that was already well on its way to being hard just watching my mother. Slime slipped from the gaping tip and I rubbed the shaft with the clear goop. Another glob of slime formed in my throat and I spit it on my palm and rubbed it across my purple, pulsing cock.
I stretched Clementina’s asshole even wider with my fingers. Her pink flesh pushed out in a beautiful pink rose. I almost came before I entered her just looking at her slimy ass flesh, but I caught my breath and slid my meat inside of her. Pushing in the entire fifteen inches until my balls pressed against her slimy labia.
Ona was laying on the floor of the chamber. She, too, had ditched her swimsuit and was fingering herself frantically, first with one finger inside, then with two, then her entire hand. She rolled over onto her knees and leaned forward, sliding her entire fist of her left hand inside her slit, and the entire fist of her right hand inside her ass.
I worked my cock in and out of Clementina’s ass, her sheath gripping my shaft. I reached around to squeeze her nipples, sending streamers of thick, sweet milk into the red water in the urn. I retched and gagged as I spat out fresh globs of slime from my throat onto Clementina’s ass that was shaking and jiggling as I fucked it frantically.
Suddenly I felt a shiver run through my body, and as Clementina had predicted a day before, I felt a slither of slime trickle from my asshole. It wasn’t what I had expected – it was pleasant.
I looked across the urn to my mother. While I had been fucking Clementina’s ass, another tentacle had emerged from the pool. My mother was now on all fours and had a tentacle in her mouth, a tentacle in her pussy, and a third was hovering over her pink gaping, slightly prolapsed asshole that she was fingering and stretching, begging the thing to penetrate. Slime slid out as the thing circled the outside, teasing my mother, who moaned through the immense appendage that was now deep down her throat, spreading her lips painfully wide. But the look on her face was not one of pain but of ecstasy. Finally the tentacle slipped into her gaped anus and she arched her back again, jiggling her wet, engorged breasts and sending fresh shots of milk squirting across the stone chaise.
The third tentacle joined the first two in the rhythmic pulsing, throbbing and pounding of my mother’s body. I could see the distension of her stomach from the ones in her abdomen, and the extreme distension of her throat from the appendage in her mouth. She looked used. She looked hot.
As for me, I was still having my way with Clementina’s cavernous phallite asshole. Slime, grool, and pre-come mixed together in an unholy potion that poured from her sphincter with every fresh stroke of my cock into her. I jerked back, pulling out and stretching her sheath out behind her, then plunged back into her bottomless phallite asshole. She leaned back, pressing her back against my chest and forcing my cock hard against the front of her abdomen, distending her stomach. With one hand I reached around and stroked my cock through her skin, with the other I squeezed her milk-laden breasts, sending thick streams of milk across the urn.
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