When it came to oral sex, Philippa was a giver.Millington gazed out of the car window, looking at the familiar hustle and bustle of a London morning. Why was it that some things stayed the same and then others seemingly altered overnight? And why was it invariably the good stuff, like Philippa, that changed?At work, Philippa teased him by wearing pencil skirts, either black or pinstriped. Millington had a thing for pinstripe; he also liked stockings and suspenders and Philippa obliged on that score, too. Truthfully, if Millington had thought he could get away with it, he would’ve insisted that all his female employees wore above-the-knee tight skirts, black patent leather high heels, and fitted white blouses revealing a hint of cleavage.Millington didn’t like anything obvious. He hated mini-skirts. He wanted women to look demure with a slight hint of horny. Thinking about being surrounded by women dressed in his favourite uniform, Millington felt himself harden. Maybe he should fuck. There's a satisfying slurping sound as my petals shift and come apart. Istand up. I look around and see there's still a few fairies nearby. Myeyes are now open to new things all around me. I sense things that nohuman could. As I try to figure out my new role in life, There's a sharppain on my head. Right where that bump was. It certainly wasn't a bumpanymore, it was a bud. I felt a little tearing on my scalp. It hurt.Something was trying to come out of me. I forget about everything aroundme as well as my new complete body. I know I have to bloom. It will makethe pain go away. So I take a deep breath, and push. I ran my fingersthrough my hair to try to clear some space for the bud to open. Finallyafter some exhausting pushes, the bud on my scalp bursts open. Purplepetals open up out of my head. It's my flower! A fragrant smell waftsthrough the clearing in the forest. I am proud. A feeling of peacesurrounds me. Somehow this feels right. I am now a beautiful plant. Thisis meant to be. I.
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