The Houseplant That I Never Water Gets Me Off - (Classic Tingler Revisited)

we all know this classic way. as worlds greatest author name of chuck there are some tales that hit my brain like a dang light bulb saying ‘you know this feeling? i bet everyone knows this feeling’ and this tingler is a trot we all know. HOUSEPLANTS ARE A BIG RESPONSIBILITY and also can serve as an important lesson in takin care of business. sometimes we buy something and say ‘i will cherish this and make sure everything is like new FORVER’ but this timeline keeps moving along and other things fill our brains and soon enough we look over and find a dead houseplant in the dang corner.

message of this story is important one though, something that comes about in all tinglers in some way of another (i would say theme of chuck) and that is BALANCE. we get tugged this way and that in our journeys, but balance tends to end up being the right path.

do you have to spend every day staring at your new houseplant not thinking of anything else? NO WAY BUD THATS NOT BALANCED. should you forget your houseplant even exists and trot about your day to leave it in the cold and dark? NO WAY BUD THAT’S NOT BALANCED.

but most important thing to understand is that finding balance is a process. it does not come automatically this is a trail and error trot that is part of how we learn. it is okay to mess up sometimes. were here on this timeline to experience joy and prove love but also to LEARN.

anyway let this be a reminder GO WATER YOU DANG HOUSEPLANTS if you havent already

Harper is always on the go, efficiently working her way through life without a second of wasted time. It’s made her very successful, but it’s also made her careless, and soon enough Harper discovers that she’s completely lost track of the present.

Harper’s friend suggests getting a plant to take care of, hoping this could be a meditative experience for Harper. At first it is, but soon enough Harper has completely forgotten about her new houseplant, allowing the leaves to wither away and die.

Realizing her limitations, Harper finds the plant a new, better home.

Now, however, this sexy houseplant is back, introducing herself as Kobla and bringing Harper along on an erotic lesbian adventure.

This erotic tale is 4,000 words of sizzling human on houseplant action and lesbian sentient flora love.

(Originally released Jan 24th, 2020)

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THE HOUSEPLANT THAT I NEVER WATER GETS ME OFF

By Chuck Tingle

To say I’m a busy woman would be an understatement. Ever since I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with the idea that time is a finite resource, that everything we do can be boiled down into a tiny grain of sand in the hourglass of our life. We never known when the sand going to run out, only that it will, and sometimes this disconnection allows people to sit back and waste away their days.

Not me, though. I’m here to experience it all, determined to spend my time on Earth in the most efficient way possible.

This attitude has gotten me far, and helped me rise to the top of the heap in most of the things I set my mind to. At work, I went from a girl in the mailroom to the head of my own development department. I’ve traveled the world more times than I can count and I have a wide social circle.

But this kind of drive has its drawbacks. For one thing, I’m never satisfied. From the outside it may seem like my life is pitch perfect, resting at the pinnacle of some unspoken social ladder. Every once in a while it actually feels that way, but this contentment only lasts for a few minutes.

The next thing I know, I’m rolling over a thousand different plans or ideas in my head, trying to figure out what’s next on the agenda of my life. If things get really bad, I’ll start taking this obsession to its ultimate conclusion, focusing in on the fact that one day I’ll disappear from existence, cast out into a vast nothingness.

Will my time have been well spent?

“You okay?” my friend Riley questions, catching my attention.

I glance over at her, breaking from my trance and then blinking a few times as though that might pull me back into reality faster.

“Yeah,” I stammer. “I was just thinking.”
 Riley holds up a shirt in front of her, turning from side to side as if to briefly model this potential addition to her wardrobe. “What do you think?” my friend questions.

I nod, still not really here by struggling to play along. “It’s really cute.”

Riley and I have spent the afternoon shopping, and I’m trying my best to stay present, but lately the anxiety I so often experience has started to really get a hold of me.

What am I really doing here? Is shopping with a friend the most efficient use of my time? Shouldn’t I just be doing this online?

These questions continue to push deeper and deeper into my mind despite my best efforts to keep them out. It’s left me caught in the middle, too focused to enjoy a day of shopping with my friend, and too casual to get any real work done.

“Something is definitely wrong,” Riley states confidently. “I know you, Harper.”

I let out a long sigh. “I’m just… worried.”

My friend looks genuinely concerned. “Aw, what’s going on?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There’s just not enough time in the day, you know? I’ve got so much work ahead of me and every year that goes by the whole world seems to be spinning faster and faster. It’s like I blinked and suddenly I’m an adult, and I’m trying to keep my eyes open because if I blink again I’ll be dead.”

Riley just stares at me blankly. I can tell that she’s frantically searching her brain for answers, not quite understanding the points that I’m trying to make. “I’m sorry,” she finally offers. “I don’t really know that feeling.”

“Really?” I counter. “You don’t find yourself suffocating in existential dread about the finite amount of time in your life on a daily basis?”

Riley shakes her head. “Not really. No.”

I recognize that I’m different from most people, but the fact that Riley can’t relate to me on any level at all is somewhat shocking. I can’t even wrap my mind around someone’s brain being free from this constant gnawing for attention.

My friend may not have the ambition that I do, but she’s definitely present. Riley lives in the moment and appreciates it like nobody I’ve ever seen, while it feels like all I can focus on is the inevitable future.

I let out a long sigh. “I wish I had some of that.”

The second these words leave my lips, a smile begins to creep its way out across Riley’s face.

“Come on,” my friend finally offers, hanging her shirt back up on the rack. “I think I’ve got something that’s gonna really help you.”

The next thing I know, Riley is leading me out of the store and onto the sidewalk, making her way down the street of this busy shopping district. I’m following close behind, completely stumped as to where Riley could be taking me.

We don’t travel very far before suddenly ducking around a corner and into a back alley. A small, wooden garden shed sits tight against the wall here, the beautiful structure overflowing with flowers to entice those who might just happen to be passing by.

“You need a houseplant,” Riley announces.

I narrow my eyes, not quite sure what I was expecting, but hope for a solution that was a little more concrete than this.

“Why?” is all the I can think to say.

My friend runs her fingers slowly across one of the plants, spending a brief moment with it as I watch in silence. “Look how still it is,” my friend offers. “Taking care of a plant is a very meditative experience. It allows you to slow down and appreciate your time. While you’re running around stressing yourself out, your houseplant will just be sitting here, happily existing.”

The whole idea sounds a little silly to me, but right now I’m willing to give almost anything a shot.

“Okay, fine,” I reply.

Riley smiles. “Well, take your pick. Which one is calling to you?”

I slowly make my way across the vast assortment of options that this flower stand has to offer. The main section of the structure is covered in a beautiful assortment of colorful flora, but these ones are simply too gaudy for me. I’m also looking for something long term, not just a pretty flower that’s already been cut.

The houseplant section is quite small, but very promising. It doesn’t take long before my eyes fall onto a medium sized plant with wide green leaves that spring up confidently towards the sun.

“That’s the one,” I announce.

A man who is working at the stand approaches and I hand him some cash. Soon enough, I’m carrying my new plant back to the car, still a little confused by the strange turn this shopping trip has taken.

“Now remember,” Riley informs me. “Water that one every morning before work. She needs plenty of sunlight so put her near the window and keep the blinds open as much as possible.”

“Got it,” I nod in confirmation.

“Most importantly,” my friend continues. “Let it be an excuse for you to slow down a bit. This isn’t supposed to just be another chore, this is a meditation on the speed of life. It should make you consider your priorities.”

I’m still a little skeptical about all this, but I’m very thankful for Riley’s help.  More than anything, I’m excited to embark on this new chapter of my life.

On the first morning with my new plant I wake up excited for all of the meditative glory she has to offer. I crawl out of bed and, before I even hop in the shower, I take my new watering tin and fill it up with a hearty, fulfilling portion.

Pouring it out over the top of my new plant feels good, and for a moment I actually think I understand what Riley was talking about. There’s something so pure about living with a houseplant, it’s calming presence radiating out through my habitat.

Unfortunately, before I’ve even finished emptying my can of water I can hear my phone starting to erupt with a slew of texts. I stop what I’m doing and hurry over to see what’s happening, discovering a barrage of work messages that signal a busy day ahead.

I quickly do the bare minimum to get ready, then hurry out the door.

As hard as I try to give my plant the time she deserves, this pattern begins to work its way into my life more and more.

On the second day, I think about watering my new plant friend and then get distracted when I realize that I still need to sign up for yoga classes this evening. By the time I’m finished taking care of that, I need to run out the door in a hurry, leaving my houseplant quite thirsty.

The next day, I try my best to remember, but somehow find myself drawn in by a new informational podcast that takes up the majority of my brainpower. The day after that, I just forget completely.

Eventually, it’s been two weeks without any water for my plant, and I don’t even notice.

This complete disaster of caretaking only comes to the forefront of my mind when I’m confronted with it directly one evening.

I’ve been having a lot of meetings lately, which means dinner out, but on this particular night I’m stuck at home. I’ve got plenty of work to take care of still, but I’m happy to be doing it from a comfortable position on my living room couch.

I whip up some dinner and then carry my plate out to the coffee table.

I’m about to sit down when suddenly my gaze stops on the plant before me.

I literally gasp aloud when I see her, blown away by just how bad things have gotten in such a short amount of time. The once gorgeous green leaves have withered away, drooping low in a sad, desperate display. Their color has transitioned into a sickly yellow with the edges starting to brown on a few of the stalks.

The plant looks absolutely nothing like it once did.

My first instinct is to throw the whole thing out, and I stand up from the couch to do just that.

I only get a few steps, however, before I stop myself. This whole situation is my fault, and while I’d love to just cut and run without taking a shred of responsibility, my constant drive towards the future has often kept me from caring for the things that are right in front of me. This plant deserves a better fate than I can provide it with.

I let out a long sigh, then pick up my phone. I dial Riley’s number.

“Hello?” Riley answers.

“Hey, it’s Harper,” I inform her. “Listen… that plant isn’t doing so well.”

“Oh god, what did you do?” comes a voice of disappointment through earpiece.

“More like, what didn’t I do,” I reply. “I didn’t water her.”

“Well, plants do need water,” Riley offers in return.

“So what do I do?” I question.

“You water it,” Riley continues. “It’s pretty simple.”
 “I can’t,” I counter. “It’s been so long, this little houseplant needs a lot of help from someone who’s got a green thumb. I’m just going to forget about her the second I wake up tomorrow and its only going to get worse. Can you take her for me?”
 There’s a moment of silence on the line as Riley considers my request.

“Alright,” she finally concedes. “Bring her over.”

A whole month passes and during this time my failed attempt at caring for a houseplant is never mentioned. Riley and I meet up as usual, but my gift to her is not once brought up.

I was right, the second that plant is out of my field of vision, I forget about it.

Until tonight.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I glance up from the work I’m doing at my kitchen table, gazing towards the front door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so my curiosity is immediately piqued as I stand up and begin to make my way over.

I reach the front door and open it slowly, peering out into the evening.

There standing before me is a beautiful, fully grown houseplant. She’s utterly ravishing in a way that I immediately find quite arousing, a wild and sexy woman who stands with complete confidence inside her brilliant green body.

I’m so taken by the plant’s appearance that I don’t even realize this isn’t the first time our paths have crossed.

“Don’t you recognize me?” the plant questions.

I’m quickly snapped out of my trance, eyeing her up and down and taking it all in. Suddenly, my eyes go wide with shock.

“Oh my god,” I stammer. “You’re my houseplant. You look incredible.”
 “Well, I’m my own houseplant,” she counters, “but thank you.”

“I’m Harper,” I offer, introducing myself.

“I know,” the plant replies with a laugh. “This is just the first time you’ve bothered to introduce yourself. I’m Kobla.”

We shake hands.

Suddenly, the terrible job I’d done taking care of her all comes flooding back to me in a ferocious tidal wave. I’m swept away by embarrassment, but immediately attempt to course correct. “I’m so sorry,” I begin. “I should’ve taken much better care of you when you lived here.”

“I know,” Kobla offers with a smile.

“I fucked up,” I state bluntly.

The plant laughs. “Well, I’m only kind of here to rub it in your face. Mostly, I’m here to say thank you.”

“What?” I blurt, utterly confused.

“Listen, you fucked up pretty bad,” Kobla explains, “but you also had the sense to know your limits. You tried bringing me into your life for some focus and relaxation, but it looks like you weren’t quite ready for that. I forgive you.”
 I hadn’t thought about Kobla since she left, but when her message of forgiveness sweeps over me it almost knocks me off my feet. This is something I didn’t know I needed, three simple words that have set me free.

“Whoa, thank you,” I stammer, then step back from the door frame. “Come in!”

The houseplant strolls inside, glancing around the house to see what’s changed since she’s been gone.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” I question.

“I thought you’d never ask,” the plant replies with a mischievous smirk.

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head from side to side.

“You have any chocolate milk?” Kobla continues.

“Sure,” I state with a nod, heading off into the kitchen.

I return moments later with two ice-cold chocolate milks in my hand. I set them on the coffee table between me and the houseplant, who lounges comfortably across from me.

“I have to say it,” I finally blurt. “You really do look amazing.”

“Well, that’s what a little care and attention will do,” Kobla continues. “It’s something to remember.”
 “You’re right,” I reply.

“So are you still just as stressed as ever?” the houseplant questions. “Have you learned to slow down a bit?”

I shake my head. “If you couldn’t do it, then nothing will,” I reply.

The houseplant smiles knowingly, something lurking just behind her grin that I can’t quite put my finger on. She’s got a secret, some other agenda that hasn’t yet fully come to light.

“Maybe not then,” Kobla offers. “I bet I could help you relax now, though.”

“Yeah?” is all that I can think to say.

There’s a heavy weight in Kobla’s voice as she speaks these words, and the next thing I know she’s standing up and walking around the coffee table towards me.

The second I realize what’s happening my heart skips a beat. It all seems so fast, so crazy, but I want exactly the same thing she does and don’t intend to stop it.

The next thing I know, Kobla has climbed onto the couch and is kissing me passionately, her wide leaves working their way across my body.

A long, satisfied sigh escapes my lips as she begins to slowly remove my clothing, allowing my skin to react to the warm air.

“What’s happening?” I stammer.

“What does it look like?” Kobla replies with a laugh.

I smile in return, kissing her back with even more passion than before.

The houseplant continues to peel away my clothes, tossing them to the side until I’m completely nude before her. We’re exploring one another’s bodies frantically now, hands and leaves making their way across the incredible topography.

Kobla’s attention drifts lower and lower across my form, first massaging my breasts and then creeping across my stomach. Eventually, she arrives at my pussy, slipping a soft green leaf over my clit and beginning to rub me in gentle circles.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, pulling her close as the houseplant continues to work me. “That feels so fucking good.”

Kobla knows exactly what she’s doing, starting soft and then gradually gaining speed. She touches me in a way that shows uncanny sexual empathy, understanding my body in a manner that even I don’t quite grasp.

I slowly begin to spread my legs wider and wider, allowing her access as the pleasure continues to bubble up and build within me.

Before we can take things any farther, however, I pull away.

Kobla is laser focused on pleasuring me right now, and that’s wonderful, but I feel like it should be the other way around. I’m the one who needs to be hard at work.

Without a word I slip down off the couch, pushing my coffee table back to make room. I drop onto all fours before the gorgeous houseplant, gazing up at her longingly before suddenly diving in.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Kobla moans as I begin to flick my tongue softly but swiftly across her clit.

The longer I do this, the more the houseplant begins to pump her hips, gradually falling into a pleasant erotic groove. It’s not long before she brings her hand down and places it against the back of my head, pushing me harder and harder against her pussy.

I’m lapping away at her now, hungrily eating Kobla out with a carnal intensity. I can tell that she likes it because with every passing second her whimpers get louder, gradually transforming into wild groans of ecstasy. The plant’s eyes are shut tight as she moves along with me, loving every second of this.

As I eat her out I move my fingers into position, then slowly slip them within. Now I’m working the houseplant in two distinct ways, and the pleasure this creates immediately sends her over the edge.

The next thing I know, Kobla is throwing her head back and letting out a belligerent scream, completely lost in the moment as wave after wave of powerful orgasm surges through her veins.

When the plant finally finishes she collapses back into the cushions behind her, utterly exhausted.

I want to cum so badly, but I would also be totally fine if this was it. Kobla doesn’t owe me a damn thing, and I’m happy to provide the release she was looking for.

Apparently, the houseplant has something else in mind, however. The intensity of her orgasm has not drained away any of her carnal energy. In fact, the fire in Kobla’s eyes tells me that it’s done just the opposite.

Suddenly, the beautiful houseplant is climbing down onto the floor with me, our bodies wrapping around one another as we begin to passionately kiss. We roll across the ground, pushing my coffee table even farther out from its initial position as we make more room.

Kobla’s kisses start at my mouth and then begin to make their way across my face and neck, moving lower and lower. She takes her time with me, but there’s an erotic ache in the air now that is even more prominent than before, a craving to give everything that we can to one another. When she reaches my belly button she hesitates a bit, teasing the limits of my waistline as she gazes up at me with those hungry eyes, nestled among the lush green leaves.

“Please,” I beg.

Kobla smiles, enjoying her position of power and then finally relenting as she drops down even farther.

Soon enough, the beautiful houseplant is licking my pussy, dragging her tongue gently across my aching clit. She’s dolling out the pleasure deliberately, not giving it to me all at once, and while I know this will make my inevitable orgasm that much better in the long run, I can’t help this powerful craving for more. I want it all, and I want it right now.

Still, Kobla holds back. The plant knows what she’s doing down there, and her oral technique is wonderful, but right now she’s teaching me a lesson in slowing things down. Instead of rapidly flicking her tongue across me, she’s moving in a patient, meditative pulse.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and then letting it out. Maybe this is what I’d been missing the whole time, the final piece to this jigsaw puzzle of anxiety. After all this time, maybe the real lesson is about to be taught.

Despite all the pleasures passed back and forth between Kobla and I this evening, my anxiety has never quite left the scene. It never goes away, at least not completely, always lurking somewhere in the back of my mind.

Now, however, I can feel my worries about the future slipping away, pushed out of my body with every patient breath and floating off into the air above me. I can almost see it dissipating before my very eyes.

Kobla begins to focus her movements very gradually, allowing me a chance to slip away on this peaceful river. I close my eyes and let my body accept the world around it, my breathing getting deeper and deeper until, suddenly, it feels as though it has disappeared completely. My relationship to the universe around me has nothing to do with the physical space I occupy any longer, only with the potent energy that moves through my form.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I begin to murmur, the words falling out of my mouth in a soft repetition that grows louder and louder with every passing round. Eventually, I’m calling out with wild enthusiasm, completely lost in the moment. “Oh my god, oh my fuckin god!”

Kobla’s touch has grown quick, tickling me with her tongue as two fingers move in and out of my body. These dual sources of pleasure are working together, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of a powerful climax

The next thing I know, I’m toppling over the cliff of this orgasm, throwing my head back and letting out a howl of pleasure. My entire body floods with sensation, filling me up and taking control of every nerve. I’m humming with pleasure, my frame vibrating on a level that I’ve never experienced before.

The houseplant below me keeps going, not letting up for a second as I hover in this state of utter bliss. It lasts for what seems like forever, and then finally, at long last, I’m brought back down to reality.

Kobla pulls away from me, smiling wide.

“That was incredible,” I tell her.

“Good,” she replies, then climbs down onto the floor next to me.

I snuggle up close to my former houseplant, enjoying the sensation of her waxy leaves against my skin. I still feel bad about not watering her, but her forgiveness has brought me to a place where I think I’m ready to let that go.

Of course, this is not a lesson I want to forget completely. I’m happy to let this guilt fade away, but there are changes I need to make in the future, for my own sake and for the sake of the people and plants around me.

I need to slow things down. I need to care.

“You want to move back in?” I finally question aloud, making my move.

Kobla laughs. “That’s a little quick isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” I reply.

“How about a few dates first?” my houseplant continues. “We can see how it goes from there.”

I smile and pull her even closer against me. “Sounds good.”