Peter slid his way out of Isabel’s throat and out of her mouth.

“You were in there a long time. You must have become very contented with the idea,” she said.

“How long was I in there?”

She looked at the clock.

“About 2 ½ hours.”

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep. Was it awkward for you to lie in that position all this time and not be able to talk to me to ask when I was coming out?”

“It was fine. I fell asleep too for a while.”

“Oh my goodness! That’s another thing we didn’t think of. You might have turned over in your sleep.”

“I wouldn’t have sat up though. At worst, you’d have reached my mouth and needed to wait for me to put my head on its side again.”

“I was halfway down your throat, halfway to your stomach. What an adventure!”

“I hope I haven’t given you reason to regret it.”

He loved her too much for that.

“No. I don’t regret it,” said Peter.

She carried him to the trans-dimensional tube, and said, "I'll see you soon, and please don't be afraid to come back. I'd value your continued visits if I can't eat you."

"I'll come back and tell you, either way."

He made his way home, and thought how beautiful her mouth was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter wrote a poem and went to visit Isabel 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 Isabel, I am 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.

"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. He now 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, Isabel lifted Peter back to the table, and said, "I've written a response to your kind poem," and read:

            Your verse was so 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, Isabel took Peter 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. 

Finally he fell asleep for a few hours

Peter awoke before Isabel, 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. It’ll be good to feel the outside of the neck that will eventually be gulping me down and swallowing me."

"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, Peter watched Isabel writing until she said, "Well are you ready to go to the kitchen with me now?"

"Yes, Isabel."

"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."