It was after dark.

The car stereo was blasting. She sang along for a little while. Beams from streetlights stretched over the upholstery each time the car turned. I noticed especially because I couldn’t see out the windows.

The muscular thighs around my middle gave me a reassuring squeeze. She’d been slowly warming up to me sitting in the passenger seat in the seatbelt harness. Some days she’d let me wear it, other days she wanted me between her thighs.

Tonight she wanted me between her thighs. Tonight she had electricity in her fingertips that I felt when she touched me, a faintly concealed nervous energy.

It was Friday night.

The past week she had given me a lot of space. I sensed she was still processing Stuart’s departure, and told her that tonight we could go wherever she wanted, and do whatever she wanted. She pounced on the offer with zeal. She hadn’t yet told me where we were going, but we were now heading there.

I was shaved, my hair was cut very short, and for some reason she had taken the time to bath me before we left, and massage some special lotion into my body that left my skin permeated all over with an appetizing creamy scent. I wasn't wearing my superman suit, or even my new batman suit, or a fancy outfit. I was wearing a tank top and loose fitting sweatpants.

I had more little clothes now, normal-looking clothes. The only thing I didn’t understand was: she had insisted I wear something very casual tonight, but she herself was glammed up in a dark party dress that matched her hair dye, and white heels that matched the tips of her exposed natural hair color, and she looked amazing, as always.

Earlier, she had also had me paint a new coat of gloss on her finger and toe nails. She had even knelt down in front of the bathroom countertop, arming me with her lipstick and having me paint it on her puckered lips. I had to keep touching it up because she kept kissing me and smudging it. She had also got me to do her eyelashes with a mascara wand that was like a chimney sweep brush in my hands.

Jennifer often had me doing these sorts of things for her now. She seemed to find these small gestures more romantic than if I’d hugged her or kissed her as a normal size person. She found it very erotic to get me to work into a sweat over her. I deemed it only fair to oblige to her requests since she gave me so much help around the house.

“Give me a hint,” I said loudly, over the car music.

She dialed the volume down before replying:

“I WAS THINKING ABOUT LAST WEEK, YOU SAID YOU WANTED BALANCE.”

“Maybe ‘balance’ is the wrong word,” I mumbled. “No one can be happy all the time.”

She paused, taking this in, then:

“SO, WHAT DO YOU WANT, JERRY?”

She said this with faint impatience, as she thought no one had ever asked me before. Taken aback, I said nothing. If I even knew the answer.

“YOU WANT TO SIT IN A DARK BASEMENT ALL ON YOUR OWN,” she offered lightheartedly, “AND I WANT TO GO OUT AND HAVE FUN AND PARTY.”

“That’s not how it is!” I grunted. “I just need to be alone sometimes.”

“WHATEVER. THE POINT IS, NOW WE CAN BOTH GET WHAT WE WANT.”

I looked at her dubiously, though this was hard on my neck; her face was high above and behind me. When she said she liked to go out, what she really meant – as I’d previously advised Stuart – was that she wanted to go out with her significant other.

“You want to go out, I like to stay in,” I stressed. “Not really reconcilable if you ask me.”

Her thighs gave me another affectionate squeeze as she muttered:

“WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT…”

The car slowed to a stop, and she switched off the engine. Neon light was shining into the car, as if from street signs or something. The murmuring drone of people talking, and the doppler engine noise of passing cars.

Then I was slipped out from between her thighs, and now placed on top of her right thigh. This was a little awkward for me because I still had to crane my neck up to see her face.

She was peering around outside the window, scanning a crowd of people I couldn’t see.

“BEFORE WE GO INSIDE, YOU HAVE TO TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF.”

I sputtered in surprise. She sounded serious.

“What is this; a nudist colony?”

If it was, they’d be awfully cold this time of night.

“LET’S JUST SAY YOU’LL BE MORE COMFORTABLE.”

A finger drifted down and began to stroke my hair, as if in reassurance.

“What? It’s cold outside!”

“OH, YOU’LL BE WARM. DON’T WORRY.”

“Not worried. I am kinda petrified though.”

The finger moved down my scalp, beginning to work itself against my shoulder muscles.

“JERRY…LISTEN TO ME,” she said, “…JUST TRUST ME, OKAY?”

“I do trust you. I wouldn’t be living with you if I didn’t. ”

The finger, or thumb, rubbing my shoulders was causing my tank top to roll up at the back.

“ARMS UP, BABE,” she intoned softly, running a fingernail up and down against my ribcage.

Without thinking, I obediently lifted my arms up. In a quick motion, my tank top was peeled up off my body, effectively sucked up into the air.

“Hey! Give that back!” I jumped up and down on her thigh for the tank top that had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Without saying a word, her thumb pressed against my chest, her first two fingers against my spine, and she lifted me into the air. As my legs kicked impotently, her other hand swept beneath me, a long nail inserted itself into my waistband – catching the waistband of my underwear at the same time – and the lustrously smooth keratin of her nail surface slipped along my shaft momentarily, distracting me –

Then both my pants and underwear were snatched off my legs at the same time.

“Okay! Okay!” I said frantically, feeling more vulnerable with every passing second. “What is this? What’s going on?”

Still in her hand, I was raised until the driver side window was parallel with me on one side, and Jennifer’s enormous face directly in front of me. Her eyes were running all over me and the look on her face was unnerving, dreamy, like she wasn’t really seeing me.

Then her features softened, she began regretfully:

“OH, ONE OTHER THING: I WON’T BE ABLE TO TALK TO YOU. BUT WE CAN INVENT SOME OTHER METHOD OF COMMUNICATION. ANYWAY, I’LL CHECK ON YOU. IT’LL BE FINE.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

“PLEASE, DON’T BE. YOU’RE THE BRAVEST PERSON I KNOW. NOW I NEED YOU TO BE EXTRA BRAVE TONIGHT. YOU’RE DOING SOMETHING VERY SPECIAL FOR ME. I WON’T FORGET IT.”

I couldn’t argue with her tone, or the soft look in her eyes. Quieting the snakes in my stomach, I sighed and said:

“Okay. Let’s do it. Before I change my mind.”

I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was. But I was about to find out.

She continued to stare at me as she sucked and licked her lips.

Then, out of nowhere, I was being thrust at her head as her lips were stretching wide open. Her tongue protruded and caught me under my front like a platform, sticking slightly to my flesh. Her hot breath beat around my ears and cheeks. The tongue retracted, taking me deeper into her mouth with it.

I had one last view of her shiny lips, framing me on every side, before the light dimmed as I came past rows of teeth into the dark cavernous interior of her mouth, walls glinting with a film of saliva, small bubbling pools of which collected around the edges of the mouth floor.

I nearly didn’t see the rope of saliva stretched between teeth until my head was pushed through it, causing it to snap and wrap around my face, carrying the faint cool sting of mint. I slapped my hands against my face, trying to wipe it off, but the saliva was too thick and sticky; it clung to my skin more tenaciously than a cobweb.

I spat, trying not to get any of her saliva in my mouth. Due to our size difference, her saliva was more viscous than mine – a little like honey – and I worried about it clogging up my airways if I accidentally ingested it.

When I opened my eyes again it was pitch black; she had closed her mouth. The steady draught of her breath made my lungs feel heavy and tight.

I couldn’t see her face anymore…

I panicked.

“You know I always say you’re beautiful on the inside,” I began to babble, “but this is ridiculous – open up!”   

The bumpy platform of the tongue beneath my feet rocked and tilted violently, staggering me like a passenger on a listing ship, before bundling me cleanly over a wall of bottom molars. My body bounced against the trampoline that was the inside of the cheek, slipping into the tight pocket on the other side of the molars, with the slimy inner cheek wall sealing me in place. There wasn’t a lot of space so I drew my legs up and pulled my arms in as the tongue withdrew back to its original position in the centre of the mouth.

The lips separated and moved as Jennifer spoke, giving me flashes of the smoky gray night outside the car windows.

“TAKE SOME DEEP BREATHS, BABY,” she said. “YOU’RE OKAY.”

Her voice rumbled through me, through my chest, my nasal cavities, behind my eyeballs, all the hollow cavities of my body, and through my bones, like it was being played through my body as a musical instrument. The vibrations also undulated deeply through the length of my member, which was beginning to twitch.

“VERY NICE FIT, TOO,” she added in afterthought. “I THINK WE CAN MAKE THIS WORK.”

“I-I can’t believe you want this…”

“YOU THINK THIS IS WEIRD? – YOU’VE BEEN INSIDE MY PUSSY!”

“Fair enough…but I don’t feel like I’m food when I’m in your pussy.”

“YOU’RE NOT GOING ANY FURTHER IN, IF THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT.”

“I know you wouldn’t…It’s just the association.”

“WELL…YOU DO TASTE GOOD...”

She sucked her lips, and the air pressure shift made my ears pop.

“That would be the lotion you put on me earlier,” I suggested as I massaged my ears and jaw.

“JERRY, THAT WASN’T LOTION, IT WAS CRÈME BRÛLÉE.”

“What?!”

She let out a husky laugh that – from within the depths of her throat – honestly sounded a little animal-like.

“I’M KIDDING!”

This was followed by the muffled thud of the car door opening and shutting.

“LATER! IT’S PARTY TIME! LOVE YOU!”

Now there was a steady rocking sensation running through my body with each of Jennifer’s footfalls – her extravagant heels probably only magnified the jolt with each impact against the ground.

Then the movement stopped. She was still for a while. Afterwards, I realized she was standing in line for the bouncer to let her in. She sucked on me gently to entertain herself while she waited, her cheek smothering me as she drew it inwards in repetitive motions.

Then her pulse, bleeding through the cheek wall, seemed to swell with the thumping bass of outside club music. At that point I realized we were in a nightclub. Her natural habitat – I should have guessed sooner.

We were in a recursion: I was in the dark interior of her mouth with her heartbeat pulsing all around me, pushing up into my butt and the soles of my feet, outside which she was in the dark club interior, with the music pulsing through the walls, the ground, up through her heels.

Her passage through a jungle of sweaty bodies probably wasn’t far off my experience with the rush and pull of her hot breath making me break out in sweat, like I was sitting in a sauna.  In fact when I opened my mouth I actually could feel it pulling at the bottom of my lungs like a vacuum. This tickled and I had to suppress the urge to cough.

“Can you still hear me?” I said.

In the dark, the amorphous, spongy point of her tongue made contact with my scalp, and rubbed back and forth against my head, almost like a reassuring hand, before departing again.

Calmed by the response, I went quiet for a bit, slackening my body, relaxing to the throb of music drumming in my chest.

I heard Jennifer order a drink. Her voice was distinct from the surrounding din as it was the only sound which originated from further inside her – her throat – rather than coming in from outside.

Then her lips parted, the blare of club music rushed in as a glass rim jutted between her teeth – for an instant dazzling my night vision as the glass reflected the club’s laser lights – and an alcoholic aroma filled the air, immediately followed by a wave of clear liquid gushing into her mouth. It swished around, jangling my nerves with its cool slap. I raised my head up as the liquor – a mojito – broke over my face, swept along to the other side of the mouth, and then returned, dumping over me once more.

It was so cold my bones panged. I wriggled my toes and squeezed my fingers to frantically warm them.

Without warning something like an orca whale leapt out of the darkness and landed on top of me. My face squashed painfully as I was held against the cheek wall by the hot heavy weight of what could only be her tongue, so firmly that for a second I felt like packaged meat pressed under cling wrap.

The reason for this became apparent with the wet gurgling sound of liquor draining down her throat. She was holding me in place so I did not get sucked down the esophagus as well.

As soon as the mouthful had been taken care of, the weight sitting on my shoulders lifted; the tip of the tongue remained by me only so long to give my shoulder a quick reassuring rub. Then it returned to its usual position.

Unfortunately for me, this routine repeated several times as the drink was slowly imbibed. By the time the drink was finished, my skin was chilled and my teeth were chattering.

“Next time, make it a Bloody Mary,” I joked weakly. “I’m cold!”

Without hesitation, the tongue glided over, enfolding me in its muscular, rubbery surface, licking me up and down and back to front in firm, enthusiastic sweeps. I was even lifted a little off the floor of her mouth by its sheer brute force, slid a little up the side of her cheek. Meanwhile, her liquor flavored breath was once again beginning to provide a furnace of warmth.

Shoveling beneath me, the tongue bumped me over the row of molars back into the centre of the mouth, and then the tongue transformed into a platform again, and rising, pressed me firmly against the curved roof of her mouth, before rubbing back and forth over my belly vigorously to flip me over onto my back. As the rubbing carried on, I was flipped again and again, before I slipped out sideways and accidentally hit my shoulder on a bottom molar.

“Ow…” I groaned.

She must have heard me, because the tongue turned gentle, sweeping around me protectively before carefully maneuvering me back to my former position; slipping me into the pocket of her cheek. 'Pocket' was the operative word: I was squashed in against the outside of her molars, with her slimy cheek pulled around me like wet latex.

Meanwhile, the tip of her tongue collapsed onto my lap, driving between my legs to work my dick up into raging tumescence. When I was nearly overcome, it swished away again, leaving me unfulfilled.

Then there were the sounds of wet smacking and squishing as the lips began moving; sucking on something. The air pressure was oscillating, sometimes feeling like a big fan was pulling the air one way, then another.

To my alarm, the tongue swept me up again and delivered me promptly to the front of the mouth, rotating me head first and plunging my head forwards. Her lips passed around my head; for the barest moment I felt the cool outside air against my ears and the club bass boomed loud and clear before another pair of lips gulped around my head and pulled as whiskey fumes clouded my face.

The rough insistence of the lips and their lack of lipstick or gloss told me it was a man.

As I tried to wrench my head back into Jennifer’s mouth, the hard edges of her teeth clamped over my shoulder, not painfully, but effectively holding me down to allow the man’s tongue to leisurely explore my head.

It’s unclear what he thought I was – Jennifer’s tongue, piece of food, candy, toy, whatever – but he seemed to have no objection whatsoever. Once her eyes had made love to him from across the dance floor, he probably would’ve accepted a cyanide pill from her tongue without a second thought.

While the man’s lips tugged around my neck, the flat of his tongue pressed firmly against my face, roughly swishing back and forth over my features, before the tip of his tongue lodged deeply in under my jaw, as if taking my pulse, and painfully squashing my Adam’s apple in the process. He had identified the heartbeat in my carotid artery and was fascinated by it. I thrashed my head back and forth, terrified the pressure of his tongue against my artery would cause me to blackout – or worse. Luckily he could scarcely keep his tongue in the same place on my neck; his tongue continued to squirm against my throat as his lips mashed against Jennifer’s.

She was bouncing the tip of her tongue against my butt cheeks, causing me to buck forward and back as if I was simulating rough, balls-deep penetration.

I opened my mouth to yell out and got a mouthful of the guy’s bumpy tongue, which tasted like whiskey. Maybe Jennifer sensed my distress, she fluidly sucked me back inside her mouth as she continued to make out with the guy. She must have gotten sick of him; a moment later all sign of him had disappeared – at least from my vantage point.

I lay on my front on her tongue panting, placing my hands against my neck and stretching it until I heard vertebrae crackle softly. My dick was inconveniently hard, but I ignored it.

Anyway, next second she had selected another guy to make out with. Going by breath, this guy was a rum drinker and had stubble because it prickled me as my head was clumsily bumped against the ridge above his top lip, before he repositioned his rubbery lips around my skull and began to slurp it into his mouth. Jennifer’s teeth were once again shackling my shoulders to prevent me from leaving her mouth entirely.

I was getting pulled in two directions; her tongue was lavishly stroking my stiff dick as the random guy sucked on my head. I could no longer discern where one began and the other ended; their lips were pressed together so no single part of me was exposed to the outside. It felt like every inch of my body was being lathered up inside some swelteringly hot, pitch black car wash.

This guy’s tongue ignored my neck but soon became absorbed in trying to work out what my ears were. It kept rubbing them, flicking them back and forth, making my ear canals crackle wetly. I couldn’t fight him off because my hands were clamped on either side of me by the crushing pressure of the pairs of lips. I was resigned to shaking my head, but if the tongue couldn’t access one ear it just slid around to the other so there was no escaping it.

Then Jennifer got sick of this guy, too, and I was pulled back inside her mouth for a quick rest.

Dizzy, I started to crawl over her tongue, its meaty, bumpy texture against my palms and shins, feeling my way towards where I thought her inner cheek was. But then her tongue reared and forced me backwards towards her lips. My head burst free and passed partway into another mouth which contained the wheat tang of beer.

Just as quickly, the stranger’s lips pulled tight around my neck – enough to make me gag – before the grip slipped, and the thick rubbery lips smeared around my face, painting it in saliva as they attempted to re-capture the entirety of my head.

Finally, the lips closed around my neck again. Then, the guy clasped his incisors around my temples, not painfully, but enough to lock me into place. His teeth were very gently gnawing around my head, like a nut he was trying not to dent. As his teeth poked against different parts of my face, I scrunched up my eyelids, praying the points of his teeth did not gouge my eyes out. I had no defense if they did. My heart was thrumming like mad inside my ribcage. All throughout, Jennifer’s tongue was manipulating my penis to heights of ecstasy.

The guy continued to patiently work my head between his teeth, massaging my head rather than biting, which made the cartilage in my head groan. He must have deduced by now I wasn’t part of Jennifer’s tongue. Using the pressure of his teeth, he succeeded in prying apart my jaw, stretching it apart to a painful degree, and clamping his teeth to hold it like that. This guy was getting rough and Jennifer had no idea. This needed to end soon or I was seriously fearing he’d injure my head somehow.

I gave a yell but the club music swallowed my voice. An instant later the tip of his tongue passed in front of my mouth and noise, cutting off my air supply, beginning to smother me. My eyes bulged in panic, I yelled and thrashed as best I could – which was very little, as I was so constricted by teeth and lips.

There was a suctioning at my legs as Jennifer tried slurping me back inside her mouth. My head was still caught in the guy's teeth, causing my middle to stretch from the pull at both my ends. My stomach was flip-flopping.

Her tongue surged around my waist in an erratic fashion, flicking at me, delivering a series of nudges like violent blows against my legs and torso as it desperately tried to jimmy me loose from the man's teeth. The air pressure in her mouth rose and fell frantically with a sudden increase in her respiration –

For the barest instant I felt her lips loosen around me, then –

SMACK

I shot out from between the guy's teeth like a cannonball, saliva flecking off from my body, and plummeted down past massive dark shifting bodies, like a forest of huge swaying trees, blinking rapidly against the lasers burning a grid into my night vision.

Solid ground thumped up into my stomach and I went skittering wetly across the dancefloor, trailing a glistening rope of saliva like a snail’s slime.

All around, sneakers, sandals and high heels stamped up and down, like I was a tiny product unit on a factory conveyor belt about to be stamped by one of numerous hydraulic machine presses.

I had been almost certain that guy’s teeth would crack my head like a nut, but I was wrong. I was actually destined to be ground like a cigarette beneath a giant high heel.

Fuck, I'm gonna die!

Trying to stand, my hands and feet skidded uselessly in a film of saliva, as the heavy bass beat rumbled through me like shockwaves.

A pair of white platform heels leapt down as if from the sky, landing on either side of my body before I was snatched up and sealed away in a warm, sweating palm.

"WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?" a male voice wavered through the loud music, as if underwater.

"NO TEETH, YOU CREEP!" Jennifer's voice shot back. She drew in her fist – with me inside – firmly against her solar plexus. The lasers flickered in at my face between the gaps of her fingers.

"TEASE," he scoffed. Maybe he saw her fist and mistakenly thought she was going to send it into his solar plexus. He weaved through the crowd and vanished.

I grimaced after him, but resenting my size even more. If a guy bothered her I could not do anything about it. If she got into even worse trouble I could not defend her. It was hands down the most humiliating feature of my size transformation, if anything was.

Then again, she had never relied on me to protect her, even at normal size. She would have laughed at the idea.

One time when we were previously dating, one of her female friends who was visiting was fascinated to learn Jennifer was a skilled martial artist, and asked for a demonstration. Jennifer called me into the living room, I innocently responded. Within a span of seconds, she delivered a spectacular flying kick at me to knock me down and quickly got me pinned on the floor beneath her thighs, with her hand on my throat, while the female friend clapped and laughed. I was more shocked than hurt: like the female friend it was my first time learning she was a martial artist, too.

The bass beat pumped the air as I caught strobe flashes of the room as it passed by in pieces; towering bodies rocking and shaking, seemingly disembodied arms and hands, hips grinding together, bouncing cleavage, hair flicking around, lips pressing against each other.

Totally different from the party with Samantha. Yet, not unpleasant. I was amongst the people here, but not in the spotlight. Unnoticed. I felt one of them. Just another head in a sea of bobbing bodies.