Also, what about the giant puddles of Dawn's cum they left behind? (Warning, weird stuff again)

While the cop car peeled away, the two small lakes of cum that had shot out of Dawn's cock respectively seeped out of her ass slowly spread over the pavement and dripped down the wall. In the yellowish light of the street lamps, most of it dried slowly on the pavement - except for a considerable quantity that was being soaked up by a thin strip of green full of grass and flowers.

Seymour Fielding was not exactly having a good day. The milk had gone bad, forcing him to eat his cereal dry, then his car wouldn't start and he had to ask his neighbour Roy to give him a boost... Only Roy hadn't been home, it had been his girlfriend and some busty woman named Roxy, who had the fattest nipples he'd ever seen. And Nina obviously had some work done, forcing Seymour to wrench his eyes away from her marvelous new tits more than once. After saying thanks, Seymour had sped off to his job at the warehouse, already almost one hour late, the sun already high in the sky. When he finally arrived at the place that was destroying his soul once a week - all so he could finance his community college -, his boss had obviously chewed him out. Anthony Schlobach was a second-generation Austrian immigrant and, in one word, loud. His laugh could rattle windows, his shouting regularly threatened to shatter them. At least it felt like that when one was submitted to one of Schlobach's tirades about the importance of diligence and punctuality.

Once Schlobach had taken a minute to catch his breath, Seymour tried to explain that his car had been on the fritz this morning, due to no fault of his own. If one didn't count the fact that he'd forgotten to switch off the lights the evening before. That seemed to kind of mollify the angry Austrian, and he sent Seymour on cleanup duty. While it was usually meant as a punishment, Seymour actually liked it best out of all the work that had to be done - no heavy lifting, you could actually see the progress and the end, unlike with the rest of the warehouse work, and best of all: no one bothered him while he was sweeping. Of course, it meant he would spend the majority, if not all of his shift pushing the broom over the concrete floors. Especially if he didn't exactly hurry.

Thus, it was nearing the end of his shift, even with the extra hour to offset his lateness, when he got to sweeping behind the warehouse. The alley was deserted, just a faint smell lingering in the hot summer air that Seymour couldn't quite place. Was one of the other warehouses stocking seafood or something? Deciding it didn't matter, Seymour continued sweeping, until he reached a puddle of dried, crusty... stuff on the ground that wasn't easily yielding to his broom. Groaning, Seymour rolled his eyes. This close to the end, and now he had to get a mop and bucket? But if he left this white-ish stuff on the ground, Schlobach would have another go at Seymour, so he went back into the warehouse and soon returned with a bucket filled with soap water.

Letting his eyes wander over the stain on the street, Seymour realized there was another on the wall as well. What even was this stuff? Did a bunch of frat bros try and prank them or something?!

"Fucking A..." Seymour muttered under his breath as he scrubbed the sidewalk. Whatever he was cleaning up, it had been baking under the sun for at least a day, so it took a while to get it off. When he finally had it cleaned up, Seymour turned to the wall, but something in the small strip of grass in front of it caught his eyes. "What the hell?"

Right between the weeds and unmowed grass, Seymour could see a weird, about fist-sized pod bobbing up and down on a thick stem. It was light green, bulbous at the stalk and tapered of towards the tip, where a strange ring of fleshy petals drooled clear nectar onto the ground. Righ on top of the pod, offset to the left and right, two tightly closed flower buds seemed to quiver with every movement of the plant. Even the deep green leaves growing from the stem moved more than Seymour would have expected, almost beckoning him closer.

"What are you?" Seymour whispered as he took a step towards the bobbing flower, then another. When he had almost reached it, the drooling pod suddenly whipped around, pointing straight at him, and began to make **** sucking noises, the flow of nectar increasing considerably. "I've never seen..."

The strange pod was now bobbing back and forth as if it was trying to reach Seymour, its leaves waving back and forth with the movements. It looked almost cute in its desperation. Seymour bent down and moved his head closer to the plant, fascinated by its behavior, barely registering the faint, flowery smell rising from it. Keeping enough distance that the plant didn't actually touch him, Seymour watched until it seemed to tire itself out a bit, the movements becoming less frantic, the drooling subsiding until it was barely more than when he had first seen it.

"Wow, you really want to come with me, huh?" Seymour chuckled, the plant seemingly perking up, almost as if it understood him. "Hm, I guess I could use some greenery in my room..."

The way the plant danced and wiggled definitely seemed like a victory dance to Seymour, his interest thoroughly captured. He'd definitely take it home with him. Even the way it moved was so... un-plantlike. Maybe he had even made a discovery that would make him famous! The stain on the wall completely forgotten, Seymour briefly checked if he could risk skipping the rest of his shift, surprised at the fact that it had actually ended almost ten minutes ago. Either he had scrubbed much longer than he'd realized or the almost hypnotic dancing of the plant had captivated him quite some time. Indeed, the sun was already setting.

No matter, Seymour had something to do now that wasn't part of his soul-crushing job. Hurrying inside the warehouse, he rooted around in the cleaning cupboard until he found a small, unused bucket. Barely taking the time to empty the one he had used to scrub the pavement, Seymour then jogged back outside, halfheartedly returning the greetings of some of his colleagues that were at work in the warehouse. Dropping to his knees on the small strip of dirt, Seymour began to carefully dig out the excited little plant together with quite a bit of soil. The way it dragged the petal ring at the end of its bulbous head across his arms, smearing them with nectar, kind of reminded Seymour of a puppy eagerly showering its owner with kisses upon being adopted.

Taking quite a bit of soil with him, Seymour hugged the small bucket against his body. The plant was small enough to not reach the edge of the bucket, so it was barely visible, but Seymour would be damned if he was going to show it to anyone in the warehouse. Speedwalking through, he returned any greeting with court nods, only daring to really breathe again when he was sitting in his car, the bucket with the plant securely strapped in on the shotgun seat. Peeling out of his parking spot, Seymour resolved to first get a bit of gardening equipment - a trowel, some good soil and fertilizer and of course a proper pot. He loathed the fact that he had to leave his plant inside the car while he bought everything, but taking her with him would be even more dangerous.

Of course, the lady at the checkout noticed how nervous and hurried Seymour was, but he barely registered her comment and just grunted non-committally, craning his neck to check if anyone was hovering around his car, intent on stealing his discovery. No one was, of course, but better safe than sorry. After finally having paid, Seymour dashed back to his car, oblivious at the weirded out stares directed at his back by both the cashier and the other shoppers. Not that he would have cared of course. If he played his cards right, this plant would make him rich!

Speeding home, Saymour skirted around the tempo limit, almost exceeding it more than once before calming himself down. Dying in a car crash on the eve of greatness would help no one. Finally at the apartment complex, Seymour unloaded his car, hoisted the gardening equipment under one arm, carried the bucket with his free hand and hurried inside. Luckily, he met none of the other residents, although judging by the noises, the douchebags from the penthouse were once again screwing one of their airheaded chicks. Actually getting inside his appartment was not as easy, at least until Seymour remembered that he could set down the bag of soil to have one hand free to unlock the door.

Once he was inside, Seymour quickly got to work on his kitchen table - the bucket was not a suitable home for his prized new plant. Checking on his phone how to properly prepare a pot, Seymour spread a heap of soil in the lower half before lifting the newest member of his household gently out of the bucket. Shaking of the dirt from her roots, Seymour saw that the plant was growing from a bulb, the roots sticking out of its underside wiggling around in the air, in search of nutrients. The leaves wrapped around Seymours arms, as if the plant was scared of falling, and he laughed gently before placing it in the pot, using the soil he had bought to cover her halfway from its bulb to where the leaves grew from its stem, only now letting go of his wrists.

"There, isn't that better than this small patch of dirt?" Seymour asked, sitting down on a chair and turning the pot so the plant could face him without twisting her stem. The bobbing and sucking intensified once again, viscous strings of nectar dripping into the soil and onto the table. "Aww, are you trying to thank me?"

Smiling, Seymour went to pet the plant, only for it to dive forwards and plunge his right thumb into the drooling hole on the end of its bulb. Seymour's eyes bulged as the slick folds of the plant slid over his skin, slurping and squelching filling the rom as intense suction pulled him in deep until his thumb had disappeared completely into the plant. Was it...

"Holy shit, are you carnivorous?!" Seymour gently pulled his hand back - even if it might be trying to eat him, he didn't want to damage a potentially unknown species. "C'mon, play nice. Let me go, alright?"

But the plant only intensified its sucking, desperately following Seymour's hand, almost uprooting itself from the pot. There was no tingling from digestive juices attacking his skin, but Seymour still used both hands now, carefully holding the fleshy bulb in one hand and pulling his thumb out of it. Once he had it free, the plant wiggled and twisted in his left, slurping and sucking the air as if it was trying to find his finger again until it ceased moving, letting its bulb hang down dejectedly.

"Aw, please... don't look so down, alright? I'll get you some other thing to eat if you really are carnivorous. But you know, I think I'll give you a name!" The plant raised its bulb, pointing it at Seymour again. Crazy, it really did seem to understand his every word. "How about Audrey? 'Cause you remind me of some old movie I watched!"

Audrey's leaves moved up and down as if she was shrugging. Weird, now that she had a name, Seymour couldn't help but use female pronouns for her. 'It' just seemed rude somehow.

"I was hoping for a little more excitement, you know?" Shrugging himself, Seymour went to the sink to clean the sticky nectar from his fingers. "But then again, you're just a plant, no matter how weird you are."

The slurping sound Audrey made at that almost sounded like a scoff.

"Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't call you weird again." Seymour laughed and prepared his dinner - some simple sandwiches. "Alright, here you go - I'm not going to eat all alone."

Watering Audrey before sitting down to eat, Seymour smiled at the way she danced and wriggled as the liquid seeped into the soil. She seemed more animal than plant, really... Especially with the way she kept watching Seymour while he ate, silently slurping and drooling. Once he had finished, Seymour tidied up the kitchen and went into the living room that doubled as his bedroom and sat down onto the couch, switching on the TV after putting Audrey onto the table in front of it. While he did intend to check where he could bring Audrey to present his amazing discovery, the day proved to have been too long and hard for Seymour and he drifted off to sleep, sliding deeper on the couch.

A few hours after he'd fallen asleep, the tightly closed flower buds on top of Audrey's head began to open slowly.