Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, And Both Of Them Pound Me Bisexually For Valentine’s Day

It’s Valentine’s Day and, after a terrible shipping mishap, Morbo is on the hunt for another gift before this evening’s big date. Fortunately, Morbo manages to pull some strings and suddenly finds himself with a sentient rose and violet who are excited to make this Valentine’s Day a special one.

As the night goes on, however, it quickly becomes apparent that Morbo’s date is not as invested in this celebration as Morbo is. Will Morbo find himself without a partner to enjoy the evening? Maybe, but it’s entirely possible he could find himself with something doubly exciting… two partners for the evening!

Now Morbo and his bisexual flowers are proving there are plenty of ways to celebrate love, especially when you love yourself.

This erotic tale is 4,200 words of sizzling bisexual human on sentient flower threesome action.

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ROSES ARE RED, VIOLETS ARE BLUE, AND BOTH OF THEM POUND ME BISEXUALLY FOR VALENTINE’S DAY

By Chuck Tingle

I don’t get rattled easily, but as I stare down at this smashed chocolate box in my hands, I can feel the panic surge. I’m a notorious planner, always making sure I have my days, weeks, and months clearly scheduled and prepared for, but sometimes this habit of readiness can have its drawbacks. Most notably, it’s difficult to shift gears when one little thing goes wrong—or one bigthing.

It’s Valentine’s Day, and while I still have the whole afternoon ahead of me, I’ve now found myself one of the many frantic lovers scrambling for a present to offer their date tonight.

I let out a long, disappointed sigh, letting my body process these feelings as they bubble through me. It’s easy enough to find a box of chocolates for your partner, but this order was special. My boyfriend, Dougie, has very particular tastes when it comes to dessert bites, preferring a filling of spaghetti and chocolate milk. It’s difficult to come by, but certain chocolatiers will built you a custom box like this.

There were six large chocolates in total, each one featuring a letter of his name written ornately across the top.

Now, thanks to some great work by the Billings, Montana mail service, only half of the chocolates remain intact. The rest of them are either cracked open and rotten or missing entirely, spilling out through the crushed box in transit.

I have no choice but to throw the whole thing away.

Thinking fast, I pull out my phone. I dial and push the device against my ear, waiting as it rings once, twice, three times.

Finally, a familiar voice tumbles across the line, tense and frantic. “Tingled Flowers, how can I help you?”

“Hey Sarah, It’s Morbo,” I announce. “How’s it going down there?”

My friends voice immediately softens, realizing now that she won’t be dealing with yet another frustrated customer. “It’s a fucking nightmare,” she admits. “This is one of our biggest weeks of the year, which is nice, but you wouldn’t believe the amount of people who come in here asking for favors when the fourteenth rolls around. We only have so many bouquets!”

I hesitate.

“Oh God,” Sarah blurts, understanding my silence. “What happened?

“Well, I had a box of chocolates custom ordered, but I think someone sat on them during delivery,” I explain, “or maybe ate some. I’m not sure. I need a gift for dinner tonight, and I need it fast.”

“I’ve got you,” Sarah immediately states, an assuring confidence in her voice. “Most of the flowers are picked over, but we’ve got some great stuff in the back.”

“Thank you,” I gush, utterly relieved. “I’m sure Dougie is going to love them.”

Now it’s Sarah’s turn to hesitate, a long pause filling the receiver and speaking volumes within the negative space. “Wait, you’re still with Dougie?” Sarah questions.

“Yeah,” I admit, hoping this one word answer will assuage any further questioning.

“Morbo,” my friend says, her voice stern and sharp.

“What?”

“I’m saying this as your friend, and I know I should probably just let it slide but… Dougie is an asshole,” she finally continues. “He doesn’t treat you good enough to deserve a bouquet of flowers on Valentine’s Day.”

Her statement of protest doesn’t shock me at all, which is probably a bad sign in itself. If you were to ask any of my friends how they felt about the guy I’m currently seeing, they would all have a similar reaction. In fact, the only other reaction I could possibly imagine is one of utter skepticism, questioning whether or not Dougie and me are actually really dating in the first place.

I’m not offended, because deep down I know where they’re coming from. Sarah is only trying to support and protect me, to have my back before—and after—this whole thing blows up in my face.

I’d like to think it’s not going to end in disaster, but the jury is still out.

Here’s the thing, when Dougie and me are together he’s an amazing partner. He’s charming and handsome and full of surprises, and our time is mostly spent laughing. The sticking point, however, is this simple part of the phrase: when we’re together.

When Dougie is out of sight he might as well be a ghost, hardly answering texts and calls and generally making himself impossible to reach. On the rare occasion that we actually make plans, it’s a coin flip whether or not he’s even going to show up, and I rarely get an apology or even a moment of recognition when this happens. In other words, he doesn’t seem to assign me much value.

Tonight’s another story, however. Valentine’s Day isn’t just some random date on the calendar, it’s a special occasion that takes a little preparing and care. It’ll be the perfect test to see where my boyfriend’s heart is at, and I’m sure I’ll be proven right. Dougie puts in the effort when it actually matters.

“Can I get some flowers or not?” I finally question, cutting to the chase.

Sarah chuckles to herself. “Yes, fine,” she replies. “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I thank her and hang up, then grab my coat and head out into the cool afternoon. The air is brisk against my skin, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Instead, it pulls my thoughts into a sharp focus.

The flower shop is close enough to walk, and I’m thankful for this trip out of the house to calm my nerves. Instead of focusing too much on my smashed gift and the aching disappointment swirling around me, I begin to think about how great it will be to see my boyfriend tonight. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment to ourselves, our schedules refusing to match up despite our best efforts, but thankfully a plan came together on this particularly special evening.

My thoughts also can’t help drifting to what will happen after dinner, a lustful warmth building at the pit of my stomach. I’m sure my boyfriend has something fun in store. The deal we made was simple, I’ll take care of dinner reservations if he figures out something fun and sexy afterwards, and I have no doubt he’ll come through.

When I eventually reach the flower shop I discover the place buzzing with excitement. The building itself is small and quaint, but the action here is non-spot as patrons push in and out through the green front door. I can already tell this place has been diligently picked over, the offerings that typically sit outside suddenly nowhere to be found.

I approach the store and work my way in, slipping past the wild foot traffic and somehow making my way up to the front counter. Sarah smiles when she notices me, opening her arms wide and giving me a warm hug.

“I hear you’ve got something special tucked away somewhere,” I joke.

“I think I’ve got just the thing,” my friend replies.

Sarah motions for one of the other workers to take her place, then turns and leads me towards an inconspicuous back room. We push through the door and find ourselves in a small office, which also holds a trimming and arranging station against the far wall.

There are several bouquets positioned around this room, although I can already tell the stock is running low. These simple arrangements are not what catches my eye, however. Instead, my attention is immediately drawn to two enormous flowers that float at the center of the room.

The first is a breathtakingly handsome rose, his figure perfectly sculpted and glowing with hearty, healthy potency. Despite being cut from a bush, he exudes the confidence and poise of someone who is still connected to a grounded shrub, and by extension the dirt below. There’s something sturdy about him.

Next to the rose is a stunning violet, her petals broad and mighty, but also notably graceful. Usually this flower is seen as something delicate, but this particular plant has none of that baggage. She’s ethereal and floaty, for sure, but there is a power that comes along with her presentation.

“Oh, hi,” I stammer awkwardly, taken by their presence.

“Hey there,” says the Rose, floating over to me and extending a hand. “I’m Buddy, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“And I’m Veela,” the violet adds, approaching and offering a shake of her own.

“I’m Morbo,” I reply, still a little awestruck by their presence. I shake my head a bit, as if to rattle loose the cobwebs. “I’m sorry. I knew Sarah had some great flowers but I didn’t expect…” I trail off, not quite sure what to say.

The rose and violet exchange glances, then erupt in a fit of laughter. Soon enough, I’m laughing, too. I can feel the attraction between us quickly blooming, growing from a subtle, unspoken seed into something mighty. It happens quickly, filling the room with an immediate tension.

“I’m sure my boyfriend will love you,” I suddenly blurt, immediately undercutting the moment. Like a popping balloon, any rising heat has dispersed into nothing, our arrangement becoming immediately transactional.

“Yeah, I’m sure he will,” Buddy replies, keeping things professional.

I turn to Sarah. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” my friend replies, shaking her head. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

I thank her graciously, giving another warm hug. Sarah’s kindness has not gone unnoticed.

When we finally release our embrace I turn back to the violet and the rose. “What do you say we get out of here?” I suggest. “Big night!”

We arrive at the restaurant a few minutes early, too eager to wait around the house any longer. I know Dougie will use tonight as a chance to impress me, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he has the same idea and is already waiting at our table.

A host quickly greets me and informs me that my date has not yet arrived, but he assures me Dougie will be escorted over when he gets here. The host then leads me into the restaurant, a beautiful, dimly lit Italian place that is packed to the brim with happy couples enjoying their meals together on this special evening. It feels as though every single table is a simple, round two-top—larger parties be damned.

“This place is incredible,” Violet whispers. “You’ve got good taste.”

I’ve tucked the flowers away in a small cardboard box, hoping to not ruin the surprise, but I can see now they’ve opened the lid slightly and are peering out at the scene as it unfolds around us.

“Thank you,” I reply.

We finally arrive at our table, a quiet spot tucked away in the restaurant’s back corner. I sit, placing the box before me and then forcing a smile as the host strolls away. For the first time this evening I feel a strange pang of awkwardness, realizing now that I’m the only one here who showed up dateless.

“You okay?” Buddy asks from within the box. He’s peering out through the crack, taking in the odd expression that’s made its way across my face.

“Yeah!” I chirp, quickly straightening up and forcing a smile. “Dougie’s just building the tension. He’s dramatic like this.”

“Oh, okay,” Buddy replies. “Have you called him to see if he’s on his way?”

I nod.

“What did he say?”

I hesitate, not quite ready to admit what actually happened. “Uh… he didn’t answer,” I reply. “That’s probably because he’s almost here.”

I settle back into my chair, my eyes drifting across the restaurant. My attention moves from table to table, first appreciating each paring and then finding myself unpleasantly jealous. I don’t wantto feel this way, but the emotion starts bubbling up within me none-the-less.

I check my phone to see how much time has passed, and to my shock it’s already been twenty minutes since we first got here. Dougie is officially late.

A waiter strolls over, breaking through my state of deep concentration and pulling me back to reality.

“Have you had a chance to look over our menu?” the waiter asks.

“Oh, not yet,” I inform him. “I’ll wait to order when my date gets here.”

“Sounds good,” the waiter replies, nodding and then walking away.

Another ten minutes goes by, then another twenty. At thirty minutes I notice the lid of my flower box starting to move, pushed to the side as Buddy and Veela emerge from the darkness.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Veela starts, “but I think he might not be coming.”

“He’s coming,” I assure her.

“Is he usually this late to your dates?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, so he’s probably still on his way.”
 The sentient violet hesitates. “I don’t think that’s a great answer,” she finally informs me. “It’s not a good sign if he’s usually this late.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, a little more emotional than I’d prefer. I immediately back up, taking inventory. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”
 I can sense the feelings welling up within me, emotions that are no longer willing to be stuffed away within the basement of my psyche. These sensations are abstract and strange, and it’s not entirely clear what they mean, only that they refuse to be denied any longer.

Tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

Immediately, the flowers spring into action, floating over to either side of me and wrapping their comforting leaves around my shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” Buddy coos. “It’s gonna be alright.”

“He’ll be here,” is all I can think to say, then I start crying even harder when I realize just how hollow my words really are. Even I don’t believe it any longer.

When I finally stop crying the flowers motion to our waiter and soon enough we’ve found ourselves with an extra chair. They sit down across from me, their gazes trained directly onto mine. They are locked in, fully present in this deeply emotional moment.

If Dougie was sitting across from me I’m absolutely certain he’d be buried in his phone.

“This guy seems like an asshole,” Veela announces. “What do you see in him?”

I consider this a moment, giving my answer the time that it deserves. “He makes me feel special,” I finally admit. “Like, when he actually pays attention it’s such a fucking dopamine hit.”

“You’re just as special without him,” the living violet replies, “and he’s certainly not treating you like you mean much.”

Buddy just shakes his head. “Listen, we’ve only known you for a day, but you’re worth a lot more than the way this guy is acting.”

I know I’m supposed to agree with them, but emotions can’t just come and go because we will them to. “I appreciate it,” I reply, shaking my head without realizing it. “I just don’t know if I can feel worth something just because you tell me I’m awesome.”

“On that we agree,” Buddy says. “We’re not the ones who need to understand your value—you are.”

Suddenly, the phone rings, causing me to flinch awkwardly as that familiar hit of positive feelings courses through my veins. I glance down and see Dougie’s name flicker across the caller ID.

I take a deep breath, then answer. “Hey.”
 “What’s up?” Dougie asks, his words shocking me with their casual simplicity.

“Uh… I’m at the restaurant,” I inform him.

“Oh yeah, I was just watching the new episode of Dark Encounters and I lost track of time,” Dougie admits, an explanation but certainly not an apology. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it. You wanna just come over to my place when you’re done?”

I take a deep breath, struggling to gather all the inner strength I can muster and then finally allowing it to coalesce within my throat. “I don’t think so,” I tell him. “We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Wait,” he blurts, the first time I’ve ever heard an ounce of care in his voice.

I don’t wait, however. Instead, I hang up the phone.

The flowers next to me immediately erupt in a fit of applause.

“Nicely done,” the rose offers.

“Incredible,” Veela chimes in.

I’m thankful for their praise, and honestly it did feel really good to finally cut the tether between myself and Dougie. Unfortunately, that also leaves me in a precarious situation.

“I don’t have a date for Valentine’s Day,” I suddenly realize.

“No, I suppose you don’t have a date,” the violet says, then breaks out in a playful smirk. “You have two.”

We’ve barely gotten through the door of my apartment before the three of us are kissing passionately, our bodies a mass of wild, churning movement as our hands explore each other’s frames. I’m running my fingers up and down their stems, taking note of every subtle bend and curve, or noting the shape of every leaf and petal. The only way I can tell the difference between their moving bodies is that Buddy is covered in thorns, but even then it’s hard to keep track of who is floating where.

Meanwhile, the two of them begin stripping away my clothing, pulling off the fabric and tossing it to the side as my body is exposed to the evening air. It’s not long before I’ve found myself fully nude between them, their hands moving across my chest and abs with playful enthusiasm.

I somehow end up facing Veela, the beautiful violet kissing me deeply and then allowing her lips to drift across my shoulders and neck. Her hands begin to work their way down my form, moving gently over my skin as the tension builds.

Meanwhile, Buddy steps up behind me, the handsome rose caressing me from behind and pressing his body against mine. The thorns make me jump a little, but he’s careful with their placement. There is no pain, just a vague sense of pressure between us that grows more and more erotic by the second. He allows the tips to rest against my skin, but never enough to cause any harm.

After a good while of tracing her fingers along my waistline, the violet finally reaches down and wraps her green hand around my swollen cock. I let out a long, satisfied groan as she touches me, tilting my head back and resting it against Buddy. Veela starts slow, gently moving her hand up and down my shaft as she takes note of my body’s response. She matches the slow rhythm of my hips, falling into a groove as the pleasure builds.

Before we get too far, however, Veela changes her technique. The flower drops to her knees before me, gazing up with cock hungry eyes as she mischievously licks along the bottom of my shaft, dragging her tongue from the balls to the tip. Buddy reaches around from behind and wraps his hand around my cock, aligning it with Veela’s mouth and then helping her slip my rod between her lips.

The two of them work me expertly, the rose gripping my shaft at the base like a cock ring and Veela enthusiastically bobbing her head up and down across my rod. She starts at the same pace as her previous handjob, but soon enough we’ve gained speed and locked into a swifter pulse. The flower is moving so fast that eventually she has no choice but to pull back and release my dick from her mouth.

Veela centers up a bit, collecting herself and then diving back in for another round. This time, however, the sentient flower changes her approach. Instead of wildly sucking me off she just takes my rod down in a singular, patient movement, allowing my cock to slip deeper and deeper into her waiting gullet. Soon enough, the flower has fully consumed me, her face pressed up against my abs in a stunning deep throat maneuver.

Veela holds me like this for as long as she possibly can, then finally pulls back once she’s run out of air. She takes a moment to collect herself, a long strand of saliva dangling between her lips and the head of my shaft. The sight is breathtaking, and I suddenly realize I want nothing more than to be in her position.

I climb down to my hands and knees, kissing her a bit and then gazing up to find that Buddy has now maneuvered in front of me. The handsome rose has his cock at the ready, an enormous rocket that juts out towards me in all of its green glory.

I lick my lips, preparing to suck him off when I sense a presence over my shoulder. Veela has leaned down next to me, ready to whisper something into my ear.

“Would you like me to fuck you while you suck him off?” she coos.

I nod, not entirely sure how that will work but thrilled all the same. The mystery quickly reveals itself when Veela reaches into her petals and pulls forth an enormous strap on dildo. She immediately gets to work suiting up, but it’s not long before my attention is pulled back to the rose in front.

I can feel his hands on my head, turning me towards him. I readily open wide, allowing the handsome plant to slide his cock into my mouth. Buddy immediately gets to work pumping in and out of me, and moments later I can feel Veela positioning herself at my backside.

The violet’s strap-on rod teases my ass for a moment, pressing against my anal seal and then finally breaking through with a single, powerful thrust.

“Oh fuck,” I groan, my eyes going wide as she penetrates me, but the words coming out muffled and strange against the cock in my throat.

The two of them begin to plow into me from either end, pushing my body back and forth across their rods. The sensation is incredible, a glorious submission to this carnal moment. With every thrust that Buddy makes into my mouth he pushes me onto Veela’s rod, and visa versa, the potent sensations building within us as our pleasure moves from one body to the next.

I can feel a warmth at the pit of my stomach, the first hints of climax blooming deep within me as Veela’s rod massages my prostate at just the right angle. This sensation grows larger and larger, spilling out across my arms and legs and consuming my frame. I begin to tremble and quake, so lost in the moment that I don’t even realize it when the flowers rotate positions.

Now the handsome rose is hammering away at my ass while Veela sits before me, ready and waiting. Her strap on has been removed so I dive in hungrily, eating her out with frantic enthusiasm. I drag my tongue across her clit, moving at the same pace as the cock that thrusts into my ass.

With all this going on I somehow manage to reach down between my legs and grab ahold of my hanging cock. I beat myself off, adding a brand new feeling to the mix, and soon enough I’m swept away by the glorious cocktail of sensation.

Something is happening between the three of us, an erotic connection that defies explanation and borders on the psychic. I can tell that they’re ready to unleash with pair of incredible climaxes, and I’m on the exact same journey.

The orgasm hits Veela first, this beautiful flower throwing her head back and letting out a frantic scream as I push her over the edge. I carry her through the entirety of this carnal experience, not letting up for a second as her body writhes and quakes.

The second that she falls back I find myself hit with the same potent sensation. I let out a startled cry as the pleasure overwhelms me, sweeping me away in its warm embrace. Hot white jizz pumps from the head of my cock, splattering across the ground below in glorious, pearly patterns.

At the same time, Buddy pushes deep into my ass. The living rose grips me tight, hissing through his teeth as his dick pumps forth an incredible payload of milky seed. I can feel his mighty plant cock twitching inside me, filling me up until there’s simply no room left and his cum spills out from my tightly packed anal rim.

Finally finished, the three of us collapse into a fucked silly heap.

I lay out on the floor, utterly exhausted as I stare at the ceiling of my apartment. We bask in the post-orgasmic afterglow.

“You were so good,” Buddy finally says, reaching out and patting me on the chest.

“Yeah, you were amazing,” Veela chimes in.

Their words are kind, and I appreciate the vote of confidence, but in this moment a powerful realization washes over me. I don’t need their validation, because right now I’m acutely aware of my own value.

“I know,” I finally reply, a confident smile working its way across my face.