My New Houseplant 1

Coming home, I shut the door a bit harder than I’d meant to. It was a temptation to just drop everything in the hallway and sprint down to the basement, but I resisted. Taking a few slow, deep breaths, I made myself calm down, telling myself I had the whole evening alone and there was plenty of time. Placing my coat on its proper hook by the door and leaving my snowy boots on the mat, I made my way upstairs. Once my bedroom door was shut, however, I couldn’t resist stripping immediately. I examined my nude body in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. I didn’t look bad for my 30 years. My skin was still soft and radiant, my body still slender, breasts plump and looking just as they did my freshman year of college. I might’ve had to dye over a few grays, but otherwise I still appeared young and blonde as ever. I’d taken to looking at my own body a lot since my husband left- it was a confidence-boost to remind myself what he was missing out on. But the full-length mirror wasn’t the only new addition to the house since he’d left.

At this point I couldn’t wait anymore. I wrapped myself in my short, silk bathrobe and hurried down the stairs and towards the basement door. My fingers trembled as I opened it. As I began descending the steps, the source of my excitement came into view. It looked like an ordinary potted plant. Standing four feet high, it’s stalks were a bit thicker than usual, but to the untrained eye it was otherwise unexceptional…unless you watched closely enough to realize it was moving slightly. I’d been left quite a bit of money when my parents died, but this beauty had still cost a pretty penny, and I’d had to raise it from a seedling. I’d done so diligently, carefully following every instruction because I knew, when it was ready, the care and even the money would all be worth it. My excitement over the months grew as the plant did while I waited for it to mature. Too long I’d been cooped up in this big house alone and sexually frustrated, and conventional toys just didn’t cut it anymore. Today, finally, the plant was ready.

I reached forward and stroked one of the stalks without hesitation. Instantly it lost its appearance of stiffness and curved, tentacle-like into my touch. The plant was almost an animal, you see. According to the manual, it has instincts, even thoughts.