A door thumped shut behind us, dampening the music somewhat. We appeared to be in a small bathroom.

Jennifer stood in front of the mirror, holding me up and inspecting my slimy, reddened head. Actually, it was my middle that hurt, having impacted the dancefloor at speed. I pushed at her thumb, which was digging into my belly, nail and everything. She got the message and shifted her fingers around my sides.

She got some warm water running and held me under the sink a moment to wash the saliva off my body. Then, when her roaming eyes failed to identify any puncture wounds on my head, she expressed her relief by bringing my face up against her lips for a couple of brief, soft kisses.

With her lips no longer obscuring my vision, I was able to gaze around and notice the bathroom was surprisingly empty. Still, someone could come in at any moment.

I thought she would put me back into her mouth – to be honest, it was cold on the outside of her mouth and I actually longed to be huddled in there again. I felt safe in there, warm, with her tongue sweeping around me, spooning me and cuddling me every so often, even if it had a penchant for fondling my balls on the side.

But she instead placed me down on the sink counter, while she retrieved something from her handbag.

“Someone might come in,” I said, cupping my hands over my now flaccid groin.

“DOUBT IT. IT’S A STAFF BATHROOM.”

She leaned over the sink as she reapplied her lipstick in the mirror, and flashed me a brief sideways look of concern.

"SURE YOU’RE OKAY?"

“I think so.”

“I HAD TO SPANK THAT GUY’S FACE BEFORE HE BIT YOUR HEAD OFF.”

“You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Deep down I felt a perverse thrill of joy to just be alive, like I’d jumped out of a car wreck unharmed, nothing to be proud about but I couldn’t help it. Maybe the atmosphere had my nerves keyed up and floating.

“GOD,” Jennifer mumbled, after finishing her lipstick. “AFTER THAT, I NEED ANOTHER DRINK.”

“Oh no…” I moaned, already able to feel the rush of cool fluid surging around my skin, freezing up my insides all over again, “…you’re going to give me hypothermia.”

“SO, I’LL PUT YOU SOMEWHERE ELSE FOR A LITTLE WHILE.”

She reached for me again and I was lifted up, coming to a stop at her chest level as she pulled out the bust of her dress with one hand, and slipped me into her bra cup with the other. She turned me so I was facing into her, the soles of my bare feet touched down on the surface of her lightly sweat-coated breast and slid over the bump, but then, as her fingers released me, I found myself continuing to slide down the bra, getting quickly swallowed up into the heavy underside of the breast.

“No! Not good!” I yelped, as the weighty mammary began to press down, feeling like someone sitting on my head.

Scooping a couple of fingers in, she caught my head and fished me out, repositioning me in the space directly between her breasts, wedging me securely in her cleavage, and hiking the bust of the dress up to cover me.

Now insulated by the warmth of her chest, with the fabric securing my back, I breathed deeply, her scent sweeping into my lungs.

Her voice resonated against my face through her chest wall:

“LOOKS LIKE WE NEED TO COME UP WITH A NEW SYSTEM OF COMMUNICATION. HOW ABOUT IF YOU WANT TO GET MY ATTENTION, YOU MASSAGE MY NIPPLE WITH BOTH HANDS?”

“Ha ha,” I mumbled. Then I groaned. “Actually, my head hurts. I think I’m going to try and take a nap. If that’s possible.”

“WE’RE GETTING OUT OF HERE SOON. I PROMISE. JUST ONE DRINK AND I’M DONE.”

We left the bathroom again, coming back out into the pounding club.

She passed the bar and ordered a drink.

I couldn’t sleep with the noise, but managed to fall into a trancelike state with my eyes closed and my body still. The throbbing music relaxed all my muscles like some deep-tissue massage.

She finished her drink and ventured back onto the dance floor. Because I was no longer in her mouth, it was palpable to me now when she was dancing compared to when she wasn’t. When she was dancing I was jiggled and rocked around in her bra and her pulse rate – pattering against my face and chest – began to climb.

Unlike when I was in her mouth, I now had no way of talking to her. Occasionally she would gently fold her arms against me, squishing me more tightly between her boobs. I guessed this was a sign of protection; a response to the crowd hemming in too close or something. Or maybe it was just a hug.

After she finished dancing I was vaguely aware of bouncing along with her rocking footsteps. Then a pair of fingertips plucked me out of the bra and before I’d even had time to open my eyes, I was thrust back into the moist black cavern of her mouth and pushed into the side of her cheek. Without a beat, I huddled up and relaxed again, enjoying the warm sweeping draught of her breath gently suctioning and tickling my lungs.

*

We were downtown from the club, past a 24 hour pizza place. Jennifer complained of needing to eat something or she was going to die and I’d have to drag her home. Not that she needed to convince me, as I reminded her; I was only the passenger inside the great spacecraft of her body.

She kept me packed into her cheek again so she could enjoy a slice of Margherita pizza. I could smell the aroma entering via her inhalation and it smelled amazing. It suddenly occurred to me how tired and hungry I was.

She sighed, which sounded like a swoon.

"I LOVE THREE A.M. PIZZA."

Someone must have passed by, because she went quiet for a moment. She was being careful not to talk around passersby. Even still, she had her phone out to make it look like she was having a phone call, in case someone did overhear. But there was hardly anyone around at this hour, so we were mostly safe.

Once the person must have left, she went on:

"IT'S THE FACT THAT I SHOULDN'T BE EATING IT THAT MAKES IT TASTE SO GOOD."

Then, sounding slightly surprised:

"YOU KNOW, YOU'VE BASICALLY BEEN IN THERE FOR FOUR HOURS. FEEL WEIRD?"

"Well, I’m turning into a prune. But no weirder than usual, I guess."

"HOW'S YOUR COCK? IS IT SORE?"

"Like a rhinoceros ran over it."

Her voice got low:

"THOSE GUYS DIDN'T BITE YOU, DID THEY?"

"No," I cringed, not liking to remember.

"GOOD."

She paused to take another bite of pizza. I watched as the façade of her teeth separated and then ripped into and tore through the bread like it was paper. Everything went black again as she began to chew. The pizza had gone over to the other side of her mouth, which was now producing a combination of wet smacks and grating crunches as the pizza was slowly atomized into digestible bits.

Then, with each swallow, there was a palpable decrease in air pressure which gave me a rapid tension headache, like a pounding sensation through my nasal cavities. Luckily this only lasted a second – the length of each swallow – before the feeling relieved again.

"THIS IS SO CRAZY," I could tell by the sound of her voice she was smiling. "I JUST HEAR YOUR VOICE INSIDE MY HEAD. LIKE I'M TALKING TO AN IMAGINARY FRIEND OR SOMETHING."

"Yeah..." I started, looking around in the dark as her disembodied voice finished bouncing around in the dark. "I guess I feel like that, too. Except – no offence – but your voice makes you sound like the monster under the bed, or something."

Outside streetlamp light flickered in at me as she laughed. She seemed about to say something, but then just went:

"MMM HM." She said this in a 'is that so?' kind of way.

"What?"

"I'M INTRIGUED BY YOUR COMMENT. THAT'S ALL."

"Intrigued?"

"THERE'S SOMETHING I NEVER TOLD YOU."

"Oh no."

"IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL. I HAVE THIS...KINK."

"I'm pretty sure I know all your kinks. You're not very subtle."

"NOT THIS ONE. IT'S VERY PERSONAL. I'VE NEVER TOLD ANYONE."

"Well, I'm listening."

"BASICALLY, FOR AS LONG AS I REMEMBER HAVING SEXUAL THOUGHTS, I'VE HAD THIS FANTASY ABOUT EATING."

"'Eating' as in...? – Like, food, or eating someone out?"

I couldn't help but think either of those were pretty tame for Jennifer's tastes (no pun intended), not the type of thing for her to get bashful or secretive about.

"LIKE...SOMEONE IS JUST WALKING ALONG MINDING THEIR OWN BUSINESS, AND I GRAB THEM AND EAT THEM."

I laughed. Not really my thing, but it was so vivid and bizarre it was hard to be put off by it.

"Different strokes." I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me. Too bad my sexual permissiveness often led to my undoing in bedroom matters with her.

"Some girls like vampires."

"OH GOD," she scoffed. "TOTALLY DIFFERENT. LET'S NOT GO THERE."

"I thought you meant, like, bite someone's neck."

“MMM. NOT QUITE.”

After swallowing another mouthful of pizza, her tongue – still half coated in a bubbly soup of tomato paste, melted cheese and herbs – drifted over and began to lazily investigate me. She had done this a lot during the course of the night, and half the time probably wasn’t even aware she was even doing it.

“Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t bother me in the slight—!”

I gasped as the weight of the tongue curled over the wall of molars and slipped between my legs. As soon as it identified my penis, it began to flip it back and forth in a clumsy attempt to balance my shaft on its tip. My aching dick started to harden again.

“I think I need a rest or I’m going to burst a blood vessel,” I said, pushing against her tongue.

The heavy weight retreated again before Jennifer’s voice came back:

JERRY…” she began patiently, “PRETEND YOU’VE GOT A TOOTHACHE. YOU SHOULD PROBABLY LEAVE IT ALONE BUT YOU HAVE TO KEEP WORKING AWAY AT IT EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE MAKING IT HURT MORE. YOU KNOW?”

“Ah, you don't have to tell me...”

“PLUS I CAN FEEL YOUR HEARTBEAT AND IT TELLS ME IF YOU’RE AFRAID OR IF YOU’RE MELLOW. IT’S JUST MY WAY OF FIGURING OUT HOW YOU’RE GOING IN THERE…AND MAKING SURE YOU’RE NOT AFRAID.”

She reconsidered.

“SCRATCH THAT. BAD COMPARISON: NO ONE LIKES HAVING A TOOTHACHE.” She thought for a moment. “THINK OF A MINIATURE ÉCLAIR – WITH CREAM INSIDE—”

“Very poetic metaphor, Shakespeare.”

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHERE THIS IS GOING?” she said seriously, as if I wasn’t very bright. To be fair, I didn’t feel very bright then, but the past hours my sleep-deprived body had been bounced around by liquor and bass beats, I think I deserved a break.

“I get the picture.”

Finishing her pizza she rinsed me with some gulps of bottled water, but not too much at one time, to avoid chilling me.

Still, the cold water woke my brain up. Maybe because it was the witching hour but what she said – the kink and the éclair – took a moment for me to process.

Then it all clicked.

My heart galloped as the walls of her mouth seemed to close in on me. All of a sudden, it felt too hot, cramped and dark.

In an instant I jumped onto my feet and was clambering over the sharp edges of the molars.

“Oh fuck no!” I swore. “No, no, no – Oh God – FUCK!”

I slipped and stumbled over the slick bumpy tongue towards the dark slit of the inside of her mouth, wrapped around the neck of the water bottle, but even as I drew closer the water bottle slipped away, the lips clamped together, shutting me in darkness. 

The walls seem to shift as the monstrous tongue surged up and glommed into me like a bodyguard, throwing me onto my face against the sticky oral floor.

Then, straddling my shoulders, it held me down, like a cop kneeing me in the back to arrest me, my face mashed into the mouth floor. I whipped my head sideways, trying to spit out mouthfuls of her runny saliva.

Not saliva.

Drool.

“Jennifer –” I panted, “—get off me! You can’t do this! It’s mwwthth—” I spat up a hunk of gooey, pizza flavored spit before it could roll down my windpipe and sealed up my lungs “—It’s murder! I’m a living person!”

A sound made me stop. She was snorting with half stifled laughter through her nose.

This only made me struggle harder. I had that uncanny feeling again – like the time I’d clipped her toenails – that I wasn’t with the real Jennifer, but some leviathan doppelgänger, a gigantic ‘Pod Person’ version of her whose mind and intentions were totally alien to me.

Now I was coughing so much that the underside of her tongue began to rub and push forcefully against my back. Once I had stilled, the pressure of her tongue lifted, before it bumped me back over against the cheek and then swept back into its normal position.

“Don’t eat me!”

I couldn’t believe the words even as they left my mouth; that I was actually saying this to someone in earnest, let alone my girlfriend. Not only that but I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice, a pathetic, breathless squeak.

“JERRY, CHILL. YOUR HEART IS GOING WAY TOO FAST.”

I grabbed the edge of the molars to pull myself up, an instant later – with visions of her teeth crashing together – I shrunk back down into the pouch of her cheek.

“YOU REALLY THINK I’D DO IT?”

She had begun walking again back towards her car. It was like the feeling of motion in an elevator; the sensation of movement in some direction, without knowing where or how fast.

“That depends. Are you on your period?” I always joked when I was nervous. I couldn’t help it.

Her tongue flicked me playfully in the head. Then she answered her own question.

“IF I WAS GOING TO DO IT, YOU’D BE IN MY LOWER INTESTINE BY NOW.”

The car door thumped shut. Then the ignition started. The drone of car and road noise played outside, against the sweeping tide of her breaths.

“Jesus. Remind me never to make you angry.”

*

She wanted to jump on me the moment we got in the door. Due to her kink, holding me in her mouth had pretty much put her in a state of continuously deferred arousal, and she wasn’t getting any sleep until it was satisfied. And that also meant I wouldn’t be getting any sleep until it was satisfied.

We were both naked, on the queen bed in the master bedroom, I was on my knees between her spread legs. She preferred to be sitting up rather than lying down, so that she could watch me. So naturally the light was on.

Pressing my palms against the spiky folds of her labia, I stretched the flesh back to access the clitoris, and moved my face in.

She moaned as I began to stroke my face against the red bulb of her clit, and plant forceful kisses on it. I had to keep her labial folds peeled back with my hands otherwise they would slide around my ears and start to enfold my head.

The rim of her slit began to glisten with moisture. Giving her clit a brief rest, I pushed my arms inside her vagina and scratched around the slimy, spongy walls, which were growing redder. Then I stretched my legs forward, slipping them inside her, scratching and digging my feet around while I carried on making out with her clit.

Over my head, she cupped her breasts and began to stroke them, while her breathing turned into panting.

Her vaginal tunnel was twitching around my legs; I banged my heels and kicked my legs against the soft flesh inside her vagina area, causing her tunnel to ripple with a surge of pleasure, and begin a series of rapid convulsions. I could tell she was building, but this was only a background thought; I was so immersed in juggling the different erogenous zones with my four limbs and head, plus the warmth and scent beaming out of her was making me heady and distractible.

As her vagina continued to clench around my legs, her lips brushed my rigid penis, sweeping back and forth over it with her movements, painting it in her sticky fluids. I began thrusting my lower end into her, into the convulsions. Her vaginal entrance was drawing incredibly tight around my waist with every spasm, capturing my penis and scrunching it in her warm throbbing flesh.

I willed myself to focus straight ahead on the fleshy red nub right in front of my face, to the exclusion of all else – difficult because her hips were bucking; sometimes delivering what felt like a punch into my head, but cushioned by her soft rubbery flesh. However, during one of these pelvic thrust punches, my face accidentally got jammed into her vaginal opening and was glued in place by the glut of honey-like fluid dribbling out of her. The muscular walls of her tunnel then scrunched, pushing my head down against my legs. Another set of rapid scrunches and I felt like my spine was going to snap, before my face became unstuck from the gluey fluids and, gripping a hand on each of her lips, I yanked myself out and back up into a sitting position, holding on tight to endure the rest of the ride.

Now her finger was tapping the top of my head so urgently it felt like she was trying to drill her fingernail into my brain. Grimacing, I slid myself out of her passage and leaned back on my haunches.

"JERRY," she moaned with urgency, "I'M READY – I’M ABOUT TO–!"

SPLAT

A climax pulsed through her hips like a shockwave, her pelvic muscles flexed so hard and fast that the copious buildup of female fluids filling her vagina was squeezed out through the flexed tight opening all at once, bursting out from her slit in a thick gluey stream – and splattering me square in the face.

The force of the emission was so great it slammed me onto my back as if I'd received a basketball straight to the face and I lay there for a second, dazed and confused.

Then the hot odor hit me; an inescapable suffusion of nauseatingly musky vagina. My chest spasmed with a cough as I tried to take a breath. Warm fluid seeped over the back of my throat. It was like a shroud was wrapped around my head. I rolled around on the mattress, clawing at it, but for someone my size it was so viscous and clingy it stretched and snapped back onto my face. Before I could stop them, thick strands of fluid had spread up my nose and down my throat like squid tentacles.

Above, the air rippled with her breathless laughter.

"BULLSEYE!" she said triumphantly, and that made her laugh even more.

I already said how difficult it could be to make Jennifer laugh. Partly because when she did laugh, it was often at something totally unexpected.

Rolling onto my stomach, I furiously rubbed my face back and forth against the bed sheet, slowly clearing it of the strands. Some fluid had to be swallowed to clear my airways, which couldn't be helped.

Then, able to see again, I looked up to catch her long nails spanning over my head before pinching my waist and plucking me up off the mattress, and lifting me up just above her face.

She had flopped her head back against some pillows and regarded me serenely, her cheeks slightly flushed, while her breath came out in long sweeping gusts.

She was coming down from the climax elation now, and her voice grew softer.

“LET ME SEE.”

The tip of her pinky finger magnified in my perception, the fingerpad tilting up to sweep back and forth over my face, clearing the remaining goo.

"What time is it?" I grunted. The lit bedroom made me feel totally disconnected from time of day.

"FOUR IN THE MORNING."

"That's weird. I've got too much energy."

A slow easy smile spread across her face.

"SO WHAT WE DID EARLIER EXCITED YOU?"

"Maybe not ‘excited’,” I said slowly. “But I wasn’t uncomfortable. It was kind of meditative. Like one of those sensory deprivation tanks. I felt…safe."

She switched the light off and then rolled over under the covers, pulling me against her chest.

In the dark, with me pressed into her plush, bare skin, sticking slightly to my flesh due to perspiration, she said:

“JERRY…?”

“Yeah?” came my half-muffled, sleepy reply.

“AS MUCH AS I LOVE GOING OUT…I’VE GOT OTHER THINGS ON MY MIND AS WELL.”

“Like what?”

“WELL, RIGHT NOW…I’M LIKE YOU, I FEEL SAFE…”

“Huh?” I turned my head to hear her better. “That’s good, I guess.”

Her chest swelled against me as she yawned. Then she murmured:

“DO YOU EVER THINK ABOUT…UM…THE FUTURE?”

“I can think about eight minutes into the future, and that’s about it.”

Her hand rotated me so my back was against the mattress, as her thumb began kneading my stomach and chest.

“AND AFTER THAT?”

“Just taking it day by day.”

The pressure of her thumb against my chest became very soft and somewhat tentative. Her thumbnail halted beneath my jaw.

“…DO YOU SEE ME IN YOUR FUTURE?”

I wrapped my arms around her thumb and squeezed.

“Jen, you’re my past. You’re my present. I couldn’t keep away from you if I tried.”

Her hand collected me off the mattress again and pressed me against her breast, against her heart, and held me there, warmed by the intense heat radiating off her body, and stimulated by her rapid heartbeat, pulsating into my muscles.

She went to sleep quickly.

I took much longer. My head was buzzing, almost spinning. I felt charged up, big; a mile tall.