Chronic Crashing Crushing Current

A small amount of reddish light crept through Brittany’s lips, revealing two curving rows of teeth, each tooth the size of Natalie’s whole head. She could feel every taste bud on the slithering tongue beneath her, the texture like a carpet’s. A lumpy, wet, putrid carpet. The air was toxic; still smelling of coffee and yogurt beneath the overwhelming mint of toothpaste. It was humid and so unbearably hot that she could barely breathe. She was too shocked to even know how to react, until the tongue rose her up like a magic putrid carpet, and smooshed against the roof of her mouth, while the throat muscles behind her writhed with a loud, squelching GULP.

Panic overtook Natalie and she screamed, “LET ME OUT!” She thrust her hands up against the wrinkled roof of her mouth in a hopeless attempt to pry the teeth apart. When they wouldn’t budge, she pounded her fists against her teeth. “OH MY GOD, LET ME OUT! PLEASE, FUCK, LET ME OUT!”

The teeth parted, so suddenly that Natalie jolted backwards. The dark cavern was momentarily illuminated, Brittany’s tongue vibrating while a gush of hot air and saliva whirled past her, knocking her forward onto her stomach. She realized with a fresh wave of hatred that Brittany was giggling. 

“What’s funny?” Came Trev’s muffled voice, a million miles away, a slight edge to his tone.

Brittany’s teeth parted while her tongue simultaneously tilted and hurled Natalie sideways, slamming her into the slick, rubbery wall of her cheek. “She’s poun-ing on my teef,” said Brittany, and Natalie gaped in horror as her mouth opened and closed with incredible speed, her tongue bending and flicking the roof of her mouth to form every word. 

“Oh, fuck,” said Trev with a dark laugh and suddenly everything jerked forward. The smooth wall of Brittany’s cheek constricted against Natalie, pressing her into the outsides of her teeth. Her whole mouth vibrated as she let out a moan. From the other side of her lips came a second, deeper moan, accompanied by a sloppy, squelching sound that brought Natalie to the understanding, with a searing wave of revulsion, that the two of them had resumed their make out session, this time with her smack-dab in the middle of it.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, the lips parted once again, and Trev’s tongue came barreling through them. It slithered its way between her and Brittany’s cheek and flung her sideways over her teeth, slamming her into the side of her tongue. Natalie gasped, just as Trev’s tongue plopped down on top of her, and she inhaled a mouthful of somebody’s—she wasn't sure who's at this point—spit. 

Natalie coughed and sputtered as the two slimy muscles dragged over every inch of her body; spiraling her up and down and back and forth and side to side, until she lost any sense of direction. She couldn't tell whose tongue was whose, and wasn't even sure whose mouth she was in, anymore. Every minute or so, one of the tongues would recede as they broke momentarily and Natalie would lay completely motionless as saliva dribbled around her, sucking down the stale, recycled breath of whoever’s mouth she was in, trying to fill her lungs as much as possible before the next rumpus would commence.

As she was tossed around, fighting for every tiny breath, using every muscle, every ounce of concentration to find a pocket of air amongst the thrashing tongues, a memory came to her from over the summer, when she and Trev had run away again, this time all the way to the coast. They’d ridden their bikes for a good ten hours in the scorching sun to stay with his twenty-two year old cousin, Dave, who sold drugs to tourists and lived in an old, decrepit shack on the beach with a bunch of other surfer bums. Trev and Natalie had slept on his couch, crammed atop one another’s hot, sweaty bodies, and had gone surfing with Dave and his friends every day. 

On the fifth day of their visit, Natalie had fallen off her board on a particularly monstrous wave, and got sucked into the current. For over a minute, she was tossed and rolled in the unforgiving depths of the ocean. When she finally managed to break free and kick to the surface, she was only able to gulp down the slightest breath of air before another wave crashed over her, dragging her under all over again. It had been Trev who finally pulled her out, and the two lay panting and laughing hysterically in the sand as his cousin passed them a joint, marveling over the profound power of the ocean that could so easily consume a life with complete indifference.

But this was not the ocean; just a couple of deranged and overly hormonal sixteen year olds. Trev would grow bored of tormenting her eventually, and all of this would end. 

It’ll end. She held desperately to that thought. It’ll end it’ll end it’ll end. 

And eventually the tonsil fracas did end, but it was only the beginning for poor Natalie. The second tongue withdrew, leaving her panting in whoever’s mouth she was in—the shrill pitch of the moans told her Brittany’s. The tongue rose up, squishing her into the arching roof of her mouth as the cavern revolved forward, tilting her upside down. Brittany’s lips puckered outward as she kissed along Trev’s neck, then down the length of his bare chest, his tee-shirt having apparently been ripped off at some point. With every smooch, her tongue smushed against Natalie, sliding her further and further down the roof of her mouth and against her teeth. 

Suddenly the tongue pressed her right into the sharp edge of her front tooth and it sliced across Natalie’s torso. She let out a smothered cry that went unnoticed amongst the moans and groans of the giant teenagers. Blood gushed down her side, blending together with saliva. 

“Ugh!” Brittany’s mouth opened and Natalie glimpsed a valley of flesh below before she was plunging downward, between her teeth and lips, and collapsing onto the muscular terrain of Trev’s bare chest, rising and falling rapidly with every breath he took, his accelerated heartbeat sending rhythmic tremors beneath her. She rolled onto her back to see, high above her, Brittany scowling and wiping her mouth in disgust. She felt a dull sense of relief that surely this would be the end of it, the taste of blood being an inherent killer of moods. This didn’t appear to be the case for psychopaths, however, because Brittany shot her a nasty smile before licking her lips and gulping it down her gullet. Natalie’s eyes panned upwards as the giant girl rose above her. She pivoted onto Trev’s lap so that she was straddling him, then leaned down to lay across him. 

Natalie, too exhausted to even attempt to move, knowing there was nowhere to escape to, anyway, watched blankly as Brittany descended; her chest drawing closer and closer. She froze with her right breast suspended just above her, jiggling slightly as she went back to kissing Trev. Foreseeing the events of the immediate future, Natalie groaned and made a drastic attempt to roll out from under her colossal tit. Brittany hovered there for a couple of seconds, then brought her weight down, flattening herself against Trev. Her breast smushed into Natalie, burying her in ungodly amounts of soft flesh. It molded around her and she punched and kicked weakly against it, and the flesh rumbled on either side of her as Trev groaned and Brittany giggled, each feeling the tiny movements between them. 

The breast seemed to be playing around with how much weight she could handle; lifting up enough to give her a bit of leeway to squirm around, then smushing into her again, grinding back and forth. Natalie wriggled and dragged herself beneath it across the fleshy, heaving ground. Blood was still seeping out of the gash on her side, leaving a slippery trail over Trev’s chest and smearing across Brittany’s tit. She managed to make her way into the gap between the two breasts, where the pressure decreased slightly. Then an ominous giggle came from above. A couple of huge, manicured hands grasped onto each breast, then the two mountainous orbs smashed into her from either side, squeezing her in a deathgrip.

“Hang on,” said Trev, rubbing his thumb across the tiny smear of red on Brittany’s breast. “Is that blood?”

“Just a scratch,” Brittany panted, grinding her tits together. 

The two bodies rapidly tilted upwards as Trev jolted upright, lifting Brittany off of him and his hand appeared between the mountains of flesh to snatch Natalie from the chamber of cleavage. She lay gasping in his palm as she rose up to his eyes. The index finger of his free hand pressed lightly against her chest to roll her onto her side as he examined the cut on her torso. It was long, but thin; the bleeding had mostly subsided by now. He yanked a tissue from a box on the nightstand and wadded it up with his free hand, pressing it gently against the scratch. He expressed no emotion as he held it there, staring down at her.

“She’s fine,” Brittany snapped and made to snatch the tiny girl back from him. 

His finger’s closed around her, holding her out of reach. “Naw, she’s done.” 

“Please, Trevy,” Brittany pouted, smacking her hand down on the bed. “I was just getting into it.”

He rolled his eyes and, without a word, placed her lightly on the nightstand, folding her tiny arms over the tissue to keep it in place, before turning his attention back to Brittany. 

Natalie lay panting on the hard wooden surface of the nightstand, staring at the ceiling, as the two titanic teenagers went at it on the bed next to her. She willed herself to imagine she was somewhere far away; that the rhythmic writhing of the colossal bodies in her periphery was the ocean, that their moans and groans were but the crashing of waves. She wondered if Trev’s cousin still lived on that same beach. Probably. He’d been there for a few years now. 

He’d kissed her one night.

They’d been hanging around a bonfire with his surfer friends. It was the same day she’d nearly drowned, and she’d been rather quiet and irritable while Trev kept making jokes and rambling on and on about the incident; getting more and more animated the more he drank. Dave had given her a knowing look and leaned over to ask if she wanted to go for a walk along the beach and let his little cousin carry on pounding beers with the other guys. They’d walked in the sand for a long time, watching the waves and talking deeply about life and death and the uncertainty of the universe. 

She told him that her mom had always loved taking trips to the beach, that the day she and Trev arrived, after biking ten hours in the scorching sun to reach the coast, had been the six year anniversary of the day they’d chased each other into her apartment, and found her mom laying cold on the living room floor, her eyes glassy and lifeless, and blue, like oceans. 

He told her she was the deepest, most beautiful soul he’d ever met. And then he took her chin in his hand, lifting her face as he leaned down, and pressed his lips to her’s.

It had been strangely soft—nothing like how Trev kissed her, always yanking her around, lifting her up and slamming her into things—and at first she’d been too surprised to react. 

Then she’d pulled away and he’d smiled and she’d smiled and politely suggested heading back, turning around towards the direction they’d come, but he held her by the arm and murmured, “Life is precious, why waste it?” 

And he kissed her again. 

And she let him. 

She’d just stood there like an ice sculpture, letting him kiss her in that strange, soft way, her heart pounding painfully against her chest as his fingers glided slowly up her inner thigh, under her shorts. 

On the excruciatingly long walk back, he’d slid his hand up her shirt, his strong fingers stroking gentle circles around her slim waist, and she’d been unable to breath properly until they were finally in sight of the bonfire, when Trev drunkenly bellowed from the distance, “There you are, ya little fuckass! Get over here!” And he’d run up and tackled her into the sand, kissing her all over and wailing, “Where the fuck you been, Natty! I was starting to think Dave had kidnapped you and I was gonna have to kill him and I already had to save your dumb ass once today! Awe shit,” he laughed into her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin. “Remember when I saved your life? That was fucking crazy!” Then he let out a loud groan and squeezed her tightly, bonking his forehead against hers and murmuring, “Promise me you’ll never die, Natty. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my entire fucking life.”

And Natalie had lain guiltily beneath him, gaping up at him with teary eyes and trying not to think about what had just happened, lest he suddenly develop mind reading capabilities. She whimpered, “I’m so sorry, Trevor…” 

He propped up on his elbows, looking her over with furrowed brows. “What for?”

But all she could manage to croak out was, “I wanna go home…”

He frowned. “Like, now?” 

She nodded and, without another word, he yanked her to her feet, yelled goodbye to his cousin, grabbed their backpacks from the shack, and they took off on their bikes immediately, at three o’clock in the morning. 

The strenuous journey home was made even more difficult, due to Trev’s drunkenness, which eventually transcended into a violent hangover, both of which had him swerving frequently to the side of the road to hurl. They’d stopped for a break at sunrise, and he held her in his lap in the grass on the side of the road, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his pale, sickly face leaning against the top of her head, weakly stroking her hair as she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed into his sopping tee-shirt; drenched with sweat and beer and puke and tears. He never asked why she’d wanted to leave all of a sudden, assuming she would talk about it if she wanted to, and she never told him what had happened with Dave, assuming he would kill them both.

*                                                *                                                *

“Do you have something?” Brittany whispered from the bed.

“No, you?”

“Are you crazy? I can’t keep them in the house, my mom would find them.”

“I’ll pull out.”

“No way, I can not get pregnant. There’s a Walgreens on the corner.”

He huffed. “Fine. But listen to me.” He took her chin in his hand. “You will not play with my little toy without me, understand? You will not fuck with her, you will not talk to her, you will not even look at her if I am not around to watch. Understand?”

“Okay.” Brittany smiled, coyly. “You’re so bad.”

“Mhm.” The mattress creaked as Trev climbed up.

Natalie’s heart pounded. Don’t go, she thought sluggishly as his towering form pulled on his tee-shirt and stalked across the room with a series of tremors, without so much as a glance in her direction. Don’t leave me alone with her...

The door closed behind him and a moment later a pink clawed hand descended upon her.