Whorticulture

The jar of sauce shattered, splattering the cabinets with red.

Lilith looked down at the broken glass at her feet and contemplated simply walking away. Bad luck had haunted her since the moment she'd left the house. The grocery store, the winery, the flower shop--all had failed to support her romantic plans. In the end, she'd groped through her pantry and pulled out a half-empty box of tortellini and a long-forgotten zinfandel. She had to concede. The day had won. Her fiancé Samuel would arrive home to a box of cold pizza, and if that wasn't good enough for him, he could go jump in the pond out back.

Lilith swept up the mess and trashed the lot, but only before stopping to free her bin from its viny tangle. She'd moved the strange plant from her room to the kitchen in the hopes that it would respond to gentler light.

Something

seemed to be happening, but she wasn't sure what. Every morning she found its tendrils in a new position. It was as if it moved during the night.

Lilith washed her hands at the sink and glanced up at the pearly moon. A full moon. Well, that would explain her luck. She frowned as her reflection came into focus. At the very least she could put on some lipstick. They'd been apart for a long time, after all.

Lilith did up her face and brushed out her hair. Then, she changed into a whisp of lacy silk Samuel had bought her last Valentine's Day and returned to the other room.

She stopped dead.

An alien had landed in the middle of her kitchen. At least that's what she imagined it to be. Dozens of pink tentacles swayed around a fat, pulsating pod. A slimy orifice, quivering and jelly-like,

schlupped

softly beneath the fluorescents. There was something familiar...

But a dream! A fantastical dream about a fantastical plant. And yet it was impossible... was she going mad? Projecting her night visions onto reality? As Lilith stood thinking the tendrils reached for her, twitching and dripping gluey strands. Her knees began to tremble--she remembered

precisely

what it felt like to be wrapped up in its spasming flesh. And judging by the slick ache between her legs, her body remembered too.

Lilith didn't know if she was dreaming. Perhaps she was hallucinating. All she knew was that she yearned to be stroked by those sodden vines once more. But Samuel would be home soon, and if this experience was anything like the last, it would play with her for hours letting her cum. She checked her watch. Forty-eight minutes.

The vines gave a tempting flick, shivering in what seemed to be anticipation. Lilith gushed into her panties. Oh, but she was willing! She glanced out the street-facing window. It was silent and dark. And forty-eight minutes was long enough, she supposed...

So she surrendered herself into its arms.

At once, Lilith was lifted into the air as tendrils snaked up her nightgown. They roped around her thighs like a giant squid, pushing her panties aside. A fat vine reared. It teased her opening with its tip before sliding slowly--so

slowly

-- into her buttery cunt.

"Yes," she sighed.

The tendril gathered speed, and soon she was being positively fucked. The plant held her legs wide, slipping in and out, in and out, while she groaned aloud. How satisfying! Not even Samuel had pleased her so well...

For some time Lilith hung suspended in mid-air, moaning softly as warm, slippery tentacles rubbed down her every tender inch. She did not hear the keys in the lock. She did not hear Samuel call her name. And she did not hear him enter the room.

"What the fuck?"

Her eyes flew open. Samuel stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a duffle bag at his feet. His face was white.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried. What did one do when caught being pleasured by a monster? Apologize, surely? As if to underscore the absurdity, the giant mouth slurped wetly at her vulva. Her head fell back with a guttural moan.

Samuel sprang immediately into action. He jumped on the pod and snatched its flailing vines. But this did nothing. It was as if it didn't even know he was there.

"Get away from her!" he shouted.

"No!" Lilith said, shuddering as the vines began to suckle her breasts. "No, it's not hurting me!"

Samuel stared open-mouthed. It wasn't hurting her? It was eating her! Or was it?

The vines slipped and slid over her skin, contorting her limber body into obscene positions. But listening to her long moans, he began to doubt. She seemed to be enjoying herself. But how? Recovering from his shock, Samuel took a step back to make sense of the scene.

Her arms were bound...her legs held wide...and

oh

! His expression morphed from shock to fury as he watched the plump tentacle slide in and out of his fiancée's cunt.

"Can you make it fucking stop?" he shouted, because just then she gave a colossal groan. "Make it put you down!"

"I don't--oh, I don't want to!" Lilith whimpered. She wasn't close to cumming, but it just felt so

good

. "Join me!"

"Join you?!"

"Yes! It's like"--her breathing hitched as a vine swirled her clitoris--"it's like a threesome!"

Samuel stared in disbelief. He goes away for two months, and when he returns, it's to find the woman he loves suspended in the middle of their kitchen being fucked by a giant squid? How was this possible?

"

What are you

?" he demanded.

The creature stopped. It lowered Lilith gently to the floor by a single vine, which didn't abandon her, but continued to work her cunt like a giant, lapping tongue. Samuel looked between his fiancée--splayed on the floor, moaning like a whore--and the alien creature. Its vines wiggled, tips facing out. Was it looking at him?

"What are you?" he repeated, more quietly.

"The nursery gave it away," Lilith said. A thick tendril disappeared slowly inside her. She gasped and added, "It's done this before!"

Samuel was staggered to learn she'd been having sexual relations with a plant. But he was much more disturbed by the erection now pressing against his trousers. It wasn't only Lilith that turned him on. The plant itself--if that's what it was--seemed to be...well, a kind of inverted vagina. With arms.

"It's so nice," Lilith sighed. "I'm sure it will like you. Join me, please, Samuel."

She arched her back with an expression of ecstasy. Samuel's cock was painfully hard. He'd been longing to have sex since the moment he'd got off the plane. But this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

"Does it...does it like men?" He felt silly asking about a plant's sexual orientation.

"I don't know. Try."

Lilith watched him expectantly. He looked around as if expecting to see the neighbors with their noses pressed up against the window. Hesitantly, he undid his fly and let his cock spring free.

A vine reached out toward him; he back-pedaled. It waited. Samuel watched it drip and tremble, thinking how good it would feel if he could just rub up against it. Just for a moment...

He'd barely had the thought than the tentacle had coiled around his throbbing cock. He gasped. It was so supple, so warm! Samuel let out a loud, involuntary moan as it began to spiral around him, sucking gently. He'd never felt anything like it.

"Fuck--!" he gasped. Already he felt close to cumming. He began to thrust his hips in time. Beside him, Lilith wriggled as she was fucked and licked into a state of sobs.

"I'm so close!" she cried. "Please let me cum!"

Oh, how she turned him on! Samuel watched her breasts bounce while the tongue twirled around his cock. He wanted to fuck her, to fuck something. Anything. The plant seemed to read his mind. The vine unraveled and the round pod rolled up to him. A narrow slit opened from within. Pink, shivering flesh, dripping with syrup. All of his instincts told him to slip himself inside what was surely the most perfect cunt, but before he could move, it inhaled his cock with an almighty suck.

And Samuel fell to his knees.

Because it was

moving

. Inside, one hundred cilia wiggled and danced over his cock while the great muscle slurped and gulped around him. He began to whimper and shake, reaching out, reaching for something, anything to steady him. He would surely collapse from the feel of it. He would surely die from it. He'd never known sensation like this.

Lilith watched him with half-open eyes, enjoying his pleasure. The tendril pounded her cunt harder as she became more aroused. But as she approached the brink, it stopped.

"No!" she whined. "No, I need it--I need--" What sensation did she crave? "The tentacles! Fill me up!"

A dozen tentacles slipped easily into her cunt and began to writhe. She screamed and squirmed at the feel of them. Meanwhile, the great mouth

schlupped

and

schlupped

up Samuel's cock while he grunted his delight. He pummeled the quivering flesh, but no matter what he did, he couldn't quite cum. Tendrils flicked over his balls. He could take no more.

"I fucking NEED it!" he cried. "Let me cum!"

"Let him cum! Please!" Lilith echoed. A moist vine slicked her clitoris over and over again. Seeing him orgasm at the attentions of her secret pleasure plant would be enough to push her over.

The mouth relaxed, and for a moment, Samuel thought it had finished with him. But it hadn't. A dozen slimy tentacles sprouted suddenly within. He screamed.

And that was all he could do. Just scream. Because he was about to explode, and nothing could stop it. Not this creature. Not a nuclear war. Not God.

With a shuddering groan, Samuel came into the delicious mass of writhing tentacles. The mouth slurped away, milking gushes of thick cum from his cock as pleasure expanded through him. He glowed with it. Felt it lash the tips of his fingers, his hair. And he wanted more. He pounded the slit into a sloppy, squelching mess as again and again the most succulent pleasure swelled and broke inside him. Waves of excruciating bliss. On the floor, Lilith watched him fuck himself to collapse. She rode the tendril with vigor, and soon her pleasure intensified into a whimpering climax. This was

so

much better than dinner...

Finally, their slick bodies slipped out of the plant's grasp and onto the floor. Samuel pulled Lilith into his chest. She curled up against him.

"What

is

this thing?" he asked. She smiled through her satisfied haze.

"I call it

eros tentacular

."