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.
