Page 2 of Stalk of the Town

I had never felt so sorry for myself as I glanced back at the house, groaning. “Dear gods, do they ever stop?” I mumbled to myself, pressing the sound canceling headphones to my ears, hoping to block out the noises.

It was useless, because when I had joined the pride and accepted Maximus as my alpha, we had developed a mind link. At the time, I’d been beside myself at being accepted and connected in this way. In the years that followed, not once had I regretted it. That was until we moved to Valentine Growville, and the universe had decided my pride members should find themselves mated to rhubarb.

Yes, I’d had a ‘what the fuck’ moment when Maximus our alpha had been the first to topple over by a singing stalk called Tim or to the rest of the parcel in town Twirlie. They were bad when they finally got their act together. Tim’s singing, yeah that was bad, but I could tolerate it. The sexy stuff that was bellowed at the whole pride because Tim was now part of the pride, it washard—quite literally—to hear.

I stared down at my sweats and at the bulge that had no place being there. My achingly hard cock throbbed with each step I took to the far end of the garden. The scent down this part made my hands fist at my sides with the need to get to my cock to give myself some relief.No, you need to wait.

Yeah, like that was always possible!

The first time I’d ventured this far away from the house, it was to escape the sexy antics inside, but now it was for a totallydifferent reason. There was something about the scent in the soil that drove me a little crazy. My cheeks pinked at the very thought of what I had been doing out in the open. I attempted to console myself no one could see me this far away from the house. Problem was when I came here to escape what was happening in the house, what was going on in my sweats got decidedly worse. And then there I was, cock in hand, giving myself a lot of self-love because I couldn’t find a way to stop my behavior.

Had I really tried to stop? I scratched at my head. Maybe? For a minute? A second?

I groaned under my breath, knowing it was the last one. Over the last few days, it had become increasingly more difficult to hide from what was happening to me. Or more what was happening to my cock. The thing had a damn mind of its own because, while my other head felt horrified, the lower one not so much. I only had to think about being in the garden, sniffing at the soil, and I was ready to romp. Jump like a giddy llama and roll around in the soil to cover myself in the scent.

I was losing it, clearly.

My pride just thought it was me being my grumpy self. It wasn’t. I was considering I’d maybe have to leave them, so they didn’t find out I was getting off outside to the symphony of their lovemaking. We all knew that Burke and Gordon had over-exuberant libidos. I’d heard them the same as everyone else. They didn’t seem to have the same issue as me. So here I was feeling like a total pervert because I was getting hard from listening to half my pride going at it like…rhubarb?

My nose twitched madly, telling me exactly where I was in the garden. Heck, I reckon I could find this spot blindfolded. I’d barely dropped to my knees and glanced over my shoulder to check the bush kept me shielded, and I was delving into my sweats. I shoved aside the tight band of my one size too small boxer briefs I used to keep my cock from creating a flagpole, I wriggled them down over my hips. The cool air touching the sticky tip made my balls throb.

A shiver ran down my spine, and a familiar feeling of being watched came. It happened every time. At first I’d considered my senses were off, and I’d somehow missed one of our old pride was there stalking me. But after extensive searching of the area, after everything that had been happening to the rhubarbs, I’d discovered nothing other than the delicious scent.

Each time I found myself here, the feeling returned and, taking a moment to tune into my senses, I felt nothing ominous. The strange feeling just added to the naughtiness of what I was doing. The other stalks in the house never ventured this far down. They all had their own little patch of soil, so I was safe. Or as safe as anyone could be when the pride was under attack by Amell and his asshole pride.

Another shiver came at thoughts of Amell, and I quickly shoved them aside, focusing on the feel of my silky, hard length in my palm. I stroked my shaft, reaching the head, then I gave my wrist a little twist and caused pre-cum to glisten at the tip. My eyelids grew heavy at the flood of pleasure as I used a fingertip to swirl over my slit, using the pre-cum as I imagined the wet feeling was that of a tongue.

I groaned, my eyes closing at how it would feel to have a tongue glide over the head and tickle my slit, seeking my cum. My thighs trembled as I rocked forward into my loose grip, continuing to slide a finger in the cum and smear it over the sensitive flesh. I arched forward to avoid messing up my clothes. I inhaled deeply wanting the delicious smell to fill up my lungs, to touch any part of me it could.

Whimpers and cries left my lips as I rocked faster, imagining the flutter of leaves stroking the head of my cock. I shuddered, my eyelids screwed tight together to keep the image in place as my balls tightened at each flare of desire that settled at the base of my spine. The feelings formed into a ball of need, and my ass felt empty. Using the fingers covered in cum, I wiggled them under my balls and teased my hole. The sound-canceling headphones made all I could hear was my own desperate breathing as I chugged in air and gave in to the sensations.

Chapter Three

Goliath

My stalk twirled in the soil, the leaves peeping out as I did my best to keep hidden. It was a problem with the ‘old-fashioned sweetie’ scent that came off the dark-haired beauty who I’d spied the first day and been unable to keep away from. I’d become true to what the townsfolk said about me; I stalked the llama. Yes. I’d listened in to the parcel talking about the pride. It was hard to block them all out with the drama that came with someone trying to attack a stalk right on the street. Something that to my knowledge had never happened before the mon… no, not monsters, they didn’t like that term. Tim had learned that lesson the hard way, as had we with his habitual singing to apologize to his mate.

Mates… it was all I could think about as I’d returned to the pride house to stalk—watch the dark-haired lovely whose name was Drew. A llama, he was equally pretty in both forms. The llama had shifted just the day before and rolled right over the top of me. Not that he’d known that, or I didn’t think so ‘cause I’d been deep in the soil. A place I’d taken to hiding in because of…

A deep-seated blush worked its way through my stalk, and cum squirted into the soil that was scented with the pretty llama who right now was kneeling above me. He managed to find the exact spot every day where I was hiding—stalking. A part of me hoped it was because he could scent me the way I could him.

I might not have the words to give him, but each time he sprayed cum over the soil, not quite touching me, I found it harder to go home, to leave him. The trouble the town was having with those that wanted us to hate the new pride gave me my first mad in decades. So I made sure to stay close—it wasn’t an excuse to be near in case Drew decided to pay a visit to this patch of earth—so I could protect my mate. I wanted to tell Drew all of this I did; I just hadn’t found the courage yet to knock on the door and ask him out on a date.

He's about to cover you in cum, so don’t you think we’re past this?

My rhubarb half had taken to talking to me, and I wanted to sigh at the truth of it, but the man above me slipped his fingers under his balls, and I wiggled even closer to get a better look. I wanted to be in that now sticky hole. Wanted to push my stalk in there and twirl until he squeezed me tight enough to get me cumming deep inside him.

The idea of giving him baby stalks, a parcel of our own after hearing Ricky’s mate and Tim were pregnant, made me yearn. My leaves spread wide and tickled the dripping cock.

“Oh fuck, yeah, that’s right, flutter those leaves,” Drew murmured, his thrusts increasing as I didn’t resist and fanned them out for him.

I blushed recalling the first time he’d pulled out that pretty little cock, all pink and flushed, looking tastier than any stalk I’d ever seen. I’d wanted to brush my leaves down it to see if it was as silky as it looked. It was. A shiver ran from root to leaf as he continued to tell me what he wanted. I was an alpha, but in reality, I didn’t have a dominant bone in my body. I liked it when I was told what to do.

Him using that breathy voice, yeah, I could get off just listening to him demanding me to touch him. It was too much to resist, and in the soil where I’d buried myself to hide the first time when my dark-haired lovely had wandered down to the far end of the garden, I had never been so brave.

“That’s it. I want to spray my cum all over you. Watch it trickle over your stalk until you cum.”

My leaves strained with the desire, and I felt my custard leak from me, but I waited. I wanted to please my mate. Give him everything the only way I knew how, by fulfilling his dreams and keeping myself hidden so he wouldn’t be disappointed to find he’d gotten lumbered with me.

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