“Jack and I aren’t married,” she thought, and impulsively kissed the Mock Turnip quickly, and then withdrew her lips and beamed at him from only normal sized meters away, letting him come to rest his feet on the top of the back of the couch where she sat.

“You are the most wonderful woman that ever lived,” said the Mock Turnip, “May I kiss you now?”

He saw her close her eyes and slowly bring her slightly tilting head towards him, so that her lips were within easy reach. He pressed his face against her lower lip and enjoyed the feel of it for what must have been several minutes. She enjoyed it too, knowing what was soon to come. She would never leave Jack, but for a widow, a kiss (shared between her and someone who had just offered to be her next meal) was a mutual expression of gratitude and expectation from both of them.

She soon lay down on the couch and let him climb all over her stomach and her arms, exploring the limbs that had picked him up and held him, and the stomach that would be his new home. He climbed along her arm, across her shoulder, lay on her neck and kissed it, and then climbed up to her cheek and snuggled against it. They talked for most of the afternoon, and then he noticed the sun going down.

“Would you like to get me ready now?” he offered.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she said.

“In your position, you don’t really need to wait for permission,” he said.

“That’s true indeed,” she said happily, and carried him to the kitchen.

“How are you going to go about it?” he asked.

“I thought I might surprise you,” she said, and opened the refrigerator and took out a bowl of home made jelly that had only partly begun to set. She placed him gently into it, so that he was lying comfortably on an angle, with his head sticking out.

“Do you feel the cold much?” she asked.

“I like it,” said the Mock Turnip.

“Alright then. We’ll go with this arrangement. Get some sleep if you like. I’m going to take a walk in the garden, and hopefully you’ll be set into the jelly in about an hour’s time. I’d like to catch the sunset in all its beauty, while I’m thinking about my approaching dinner.”

He lay down and drifted in and out of pleasant dreams about being eaten by the beautiful giantess, and then she came back, took him to the table, sat down and began spooning jelly into her mouth. It was the nature of hardened jelly not to stick too tightly to the Mock Turnip, and to easily slide off Mrs Grimble’s tongue. She used her lips to draw the last few bits of jelly from him, and then they were both as clean as they’d been before.

To his exhilaration, Mrs Grimble’s tongue came out and licked the Mock Turnip a number of times. Then, without either of them feeling any need to say any parting words, she slid him into her mouth and swallowed him quickly.