Willoughby wrote a poem and went to visit Mrs Yeo again.

"Hello," she said, and picked him up and put him on the desk.

"I've written a poem for you."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll enjoy it," she said, and sat down, "You can read it now, if you like."

He read from his notepad:

            My dear Mrs Giant, I'm going to say "Yes,"

            To what you've requested, but you'd never guess,

            That, during the time that I've come here to write,

            Your presence has filled me with endless delight.

            You're happily widowed, and I'm young and small.

            I know that you can't share my feelings at all,

            So long as you know, as you're going to eat me,

            I've said "yes", because I do love you completely.

"Little friend, that's beautiful. I'm very touched, and happy beyond description to have the answer you've given me."

"When would you like to do it?"

"I'm going to sleep the next two nights here. Would you like to stay the night with me tonight, and I could eat you for dinner tomorrow night? Is that too soon? I don't know if you wanted to do anything back on your own world first."

"No, it's not too soon. I think tomorrow night will be fine."

"Good."

"So you realise now that I enjoyed the licking, because I think your mouth is so beautiful."

"Yes. So you'll enjoy our dinner date tomorrow night."

"I'm looking forward to it now."

"Well I'm going to start writing. What would you like to do?"

"Could I rest in your lap against your stomach for a while? It would be interesting to press against it from the outside some time before tomorrow night."

"Alright," she said, and placed him in front of her stomach.

He enjoyed the soft feel of it for a while, and imagined what it would be like to be inside the stomach in less than two days time. He looked up at her face, while she wrote. She would go on happily, and he would become a part of her, unfortunately destined never to be the boyfriend he wished he could have become. At least he had the chance to give her a significant moment of happiness, and enjoy the contact with her lovely mouth, while she was doing it.

After a while, Mrs Yeo lifted Willoughby back to the table, and said, "I've written a response to your kind poem," and read:

            My dear little friend from a small world beyond,

            Since you have come here, I have grown very fond

            Of you, and I'm sorry I cannot requite

            The love that you feel, you delectable mite.

            Your verses are lovely. It moves me to see,

            That you wrote a heart warming one about me.

            I'm pleased for the chance to place you in a bowl,

            For dinner tomorrow, and gobble you whole.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Yes, very much. It expresses everything in a way that makes me feel special."

"You're very special," she said.

When they had lunch, he watched her mouth more than usual, imagining himself in the place of the food.

When the day concluded, Mrs Yeo took Willoughby to sleep in her bed, and left a reading lamp on.

He lay by her cheek, and talked with her for an hour or so. Then she fell asleep. He took another two hours to get to sleep, moving across the pillow to look at her whole face and then back to her cheek. The anticipation of the following night had made him too excited to drop off to sleep.

She looked beautiful, sleeping contentedly. She was having a perfect life, without the dichotomy of emotions which faced him, as the critical meal approached. He briefly entertained the idea of changing his mind and returning to earth in the hopes of finding a woman as lovely as her, but he could not imagine being without her now.

Finally he fell asleep for a few hours

Willoughby awoke before Mrs Yeo, and looked at her again as the sun came up.

When she awoke, he asked if he could lie on her neck for a while.

"It's a chance to prepare for the other stage of tonight's meal," he said, "I've been in your mouth, and pressed against your stomach. Your neck will be the outside of your throat."

"You're very welcome," she said.

"I didn't sleep much in the night."

"That's understandable. I'll set up a cushion as a makeshift bed for you, when I start writing."

While she wrote that day, he looked up at her for some of the time, lying on a small cushion she had placed on the desk for his comfort, and dropped off for lengthy sleeping spells now and then too.

When it was near the end of the day, Willoughby watched Mrs Yeo writing until she said, "Well are you ready to go to the kitchen with me now?"

"Yes, Mrs Giant."

"Let's go then," she said, and picked him up and carried him to the kitchen bench.

"Tell me whatever I can do to help you prepare me for eating," he said.

"You won't need to do much, except watch it happen," she said, "but thank you for offering. I've been very impressed with the way you've coped with this situation, ever since I first asked you about it."

She opened a shelf below him and took out an oven baking dish.

"Well I guess you realise that I have somewhat mixed motives," he said.

"That doesn't make what you're doing for me any less impressive," she said, putting the dish down on the bench beside him, "I'm flattered by your feelings for me, and I think we're two kindred spirits as writers. If your opinion of my mouth has been the reason you agreed to let me eat you; then I'm very glad you find it beautiful."

"I'm glad I can make you happy like this," he said, "I guess it was very fortunate the day that the pavlova spilt onto my face."

"It was. If I hadn't licked you, I might not have known to this day how delicious you are."

She lifted him into the centre of the baking dish, and then picked it up in one hand, and walked over to the oven. She opened it, and leaned down to place the dish in the oven.

"I'll turn it on with a very low setting. It won't burn you, just warm you up a little. Your meat is the best there is, but all meat tastes better when it's cooked."

"Okay."

"I'll come and fetch you soon," she said, and closed the oven door. The window was level with his position. So he watched her rise to her full standing position, walk around the kitchen, take some oranges to the table and squeeze a jug of orange juice.

She walked out to the dining room with the jug and a glass.

Willoughby waited until Mrs Yeo returned.

She walked towards him, opened the oven, took the dish out, and picked him up and touched his face with the tip of her tongue.

"Hmm, that's nice, but could you be comfortably heated up just a little more? I want this to be absolutely perfect."

"It's a bit like being in a sauna, but not uncomfortable," he said.

"I'll sit on the stool and watch you warm up a little more. If it's beginning to be too hot, just wave your hands, and I'll get you out."

She put him back in the dish, and placed it into the oven.

She sat down on the stool and looked in at him