It was the day before the team's first away game, and I was sitting on Rachel's bed, reading aloud an essay from her required writing class while she shuffled around the room, packing anything she thought she'd need for the trip. I had tested out of the writing requirement, and I was glad I did, the passage being a dreary discussion on form versus function.

            “Jesus, who gives a crap?” I added a line of commentary, resulting in a laugh from Rachel.

            “Come on, it's not that bad.” She said.

            “Yeah, it is.” I said.

            “Yeah, it really is.” She admitted, “But it's required, so you're stuck reading it to me.”

            “I thought this was a favor.” I said.

            “And I thought it was done under threat of getting smushed like a bug.” She said.

            “Not a threat if I want it.” I said.

            “Just read, you dork.” She smiled, and I continued without further complaint.

            Nearing the end, Rachel stretched, arms tight above her head and feet going on tiptoes. I stopped reading and just watched her taut body.

            “Okay, that's almost everything, only one last thing.” She said.

            “What's that?” I asked.

            “My lucky charm.” She said, striding over to me and, tossing the book aside, and straddling my lap with her long legs. Her lips met mine and we kissed for a while, hands exploring each other's bodies, mine particularly fixated on her round buttocks and strong thighs. I flicked my tongue across her front teeth, which she used to take small bites around my collar bones. I nibbled on her ears and she responded with a deep scratch across my back and an unhidden hickey on my neck. Before things got more intense, however, she pulled herself away.

            “Alright, one of us is gonna end up pregnant if we keep going.” She joked, “Besides, we have to get to the bus.”

            “Right.” I said, “So I guess that means...?” I trailed off.

            “Yup, time to be micro-Koji.” She said, adding, “Or maybe Microji?”

            “Please don't call me that, it's dumb.” I said.

            “I'm gonna do it anyway.” She smirked, and the world expanded again, in what was becoming a fairly mundane miracle. Still, seeing Rachel herself grow, watching as I dwindled past her breasts, her midriff, her thighs, was a sight worth seeing. She bent down and cupped her hands next to me, making the kind of shushing noises you make when you're trying to pet a cat. I peeped out a poor approximation of a meow and hopped into those warm hands. Rachel brought me up to her face and nuzzled me with her nose through her bent fingers, before stepping over to her bag and lowering me towards it.

            “Now, don't forget, I can't really talk to you when the others are around. Too many questions, too much attention.” She said, “Besides, I want you all to myself.”

            “Got it. I should be fine on my own, I've got a book with me.” I gave a thumbs up and slipped into the gym bag.

            “If you're really bored in there, you can always lick my cleats clean.” She grinned.

            “Is that an order, captain?” I asked.

            “More like a friendly suggestion.” She winked.

            Zip! The zipper closed and I was in twilight darkness, ambient glow barely passing through the thin material. It was probably too dark to read in there, I realized too late. I began to climb around, passing a comb, a wrapped toothbrush, bits and pieces of Rachel's uniform, other clothes, hair clips, a tin of mints, finally finding my way to the cleats at the bottom of the bag. Did Rachel want me to clean the insides or the outsides? I had to start somewhere, so I pressed my tongue to the toe of one cleat and began my work.

            You never imagine developing a taste for dirt, but somehow, whatever strange transubstantiation took place between the ground, the soft leather, and the rubber soles, the dirt Rachel collected was finer, more palatable that your ordinary, garden variety soil. In any other circumstance I'd probably have retched at what I was consuming, but then, there, being swung around from her strong shoulder, lips on the surface of what she'd walked in, licking the muddied outside of her shoes, I found myself in reverie.

            “Hey, Kelly, when are we leaving?” I heard Rachel ask, muffled through her bag.

            “Not sure, but probably pretty soon.” Another voice answered.

            Pretty soon came pretty quickly, as the sound of shuffling and the throng of voices increased in volume. The team captain gave a brief rundown of what to expect: the game tomorrow, the planned dinners, and the unplanned downtime. Then, the roar of the diesel engine, the soft vibrations through the seats, and the unmistakable inertia of the bus pulling off.

            I continued my cleaning, listening to the idle chatter of Rachel and her teammates.

            “How do you think we're going to do without our good luck charm?” Kelly asked.

            “Oh, I think we'll be fine.” Rachel responded, “He's with us in spirit, or something like that.”

            “Speaking of 'with us,' what's the story there?” Kelly asked, “You guys together or something?”

            I actually stopped licking for a moment. How often do you get to hear gossip about yourself? At the same time, the zipper on Rachel's bag slid open, and I could see her face far above me, the bag being nestled on her lap.

            “Hmm...” Rachel mused, “Since when were you so nosy, Kel?”

            “Oh, don't fuck with me, give up the goods.” Kelly retorted, who I could now get a decent look at. She was around our age, maybe a grade above, and had sharp, black, geometric hair and bright green eyes.

            “Fiiiiine.” Rachel said dramatically. She glanced over the contents of her bag before spotting me sitting on her shoe and giving me a subtle wink, “We hooked up a few times.”

            “Really? That's it?” Kelly asked, “You're not dating?”

            “Kind of...” Rachel turned away from Kelly and licked her finger, coating the tip in a thick layer of spit. She slipped her hand into the bag, finger extended, and lowered it until it was pressing against my face, slick, stuffy surface prodding for a response, and for some reason I was reminded of a dolphin or a seal. I wasn't sure what else to do, so I kissed it.

            “Kind of what?” Kelly asked, none the wiser.

            “Kind of, I don't know, complicated, I guess.” Rachel said, rubbing her saliva covered fingertip in small circles around my face, before using it to poke around the rest of my body, now supine on her shoe.

            “Did he ask you out?” Kelly asked, “You know, to be like, exclusive or whatever?”

            “Not quite, but I think there's an understanding between us.” Rachel must have smirked, I could hear it in her voice, as her finger flicked at my pants, teasing my smaller self.

            “You should probably define the relationship.” Kelly said, “Guys will try and get away with anything when it's vague like that.”

            “Koji is just a little different than other guys,” Rachel said, giving me a brief squash on the word 'little,' “But maybe you're right. I'll talk to him later about it.”

            “Later?” Kelly asked.

            “Uh, Monday rather. Jeez, class has got me fried, you know?” Rachel retracted her finger, leaving me hard and alone.

            “Tell me about it!” Kelly emphatically agreed. Their conversation turned to class, to softball strategy, and to a hundred other little things I only partially listened to. I spent the next hour or two cleaning the outside of Rachel's muddy cleats, before leaning back and taking a break. I looked up and saw her quietly reading the Animorphs book I had lent her.

            I pulled out my own book and sat reading for a bit, but soon enough I had dozed off in the warm light of the sun stretching down into my vacation home.

            We must have been there, because when I woke up the zipper was closed and I was swaying back and forth in darkness, the chattering of the team like a low hum all around me. I listened to room assignments, and minutes later felt the sudden shudder as Rachel tossed her gym bag onto the hotel bed. There were a few moments of muffled speaking, the click and close of a door, and then the zipper shifting open, a lovely face appearing on the other side.

            “Hey.” Rachel whispered, “Kelly is in the bathroom, we're rooming together, so I only have a few minutes.”

            “Everything alright?” I asked.

            “Yeah, but you didn't tell me there was so much PTSD in these books!” She hissed.

            “Er, my bad, I guess they are pretty heavy for kids books.” I said.

            “Yeah, yeah, I bet you thought about morphing into an ant as a kid, didn't you?” She smirked.

            “No...” I lied.

            “By the way, do you have the next one? I'm almost finished.” She said.

            “Yeah, when we get back. I'm so gla-” I started, interrupted by the bathroom door unlocking.

            “We're getting dinner, I'llsneakyousomethingpromisebye!” Rachel whirled around and began talking with Kelly once more. In another moment they were gone.

            I sighed quietly, having figured I would have gone out with them in a pocket or something. Instead I was alone in the stuffy bag. Should I clean the inside of Rachel's shoes? Augh, I was already achy and dried out from doing the outsides. Was being somebody's toy supposed to be this boring? I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, praying that the tiny wisps of smoke wouldn't trigger the hotel's alarm, which they luckily didn't. Deep breath, nicotine in, stress out. I wondered if smoking when tiny made it more or less likely for me to get lung cancer. Null point, I supposed, I either would or I wouldn't, and that would be that.

            Sometime later, Rachel and Kelly reentered the room. The TV clicked on and the creaky springs of the opposite bed crunched under someone's weight. Rachel's hand slid into the bag, flat and palm up, an invitation to climb onto that fleshy dais. I did so, and her fist closed softly, effectively palming me like a magician.

            “Gonna sit on the balcony for a bit.” Rachel said, to which Kelly hummed in response.

            Step, step, swing, swing, I was getting used to being transported by human construction equipment. Out into the warm, sticky night air, Rachel sitting heavily on a plastic seat, her hand finally rising and blooming like a flower, revealing me to her and her to me.

            “Hey.” She said.

            “Hey.” I said.

            “You okay?” She asked.

            “Yeah, just bored.” I shrugged.

            “Fair, sorry.” She said.

            “Nah, nothing you could do.” I said.

            “Snuck you something.” She said, pulling a balled-up napkin from her pocket. She unfolded it in her lap and then placed me next to its contents: two gigantic spareribs and a pinch of rice.

            “Chinese buffet?” I asked.

            “Gosh, you must be psychic.” She rolled her eyes.

            “Thanks.” I said, taking a bite from the body temperature hunk of meat. She watched, pleased, as I ate my fill. Less than a hundredth of a rib and three grains of soft, salty rice. Rachel could solve world hunger if she wanted to, and if anyone on earth could be trusted to plan it effectively. The thought struck me then that Rachel's was a power so significant that it probably shouldn't exist, couldn't be trusted in the hands of any flawed human. And yet, here we were, sharing that forbidden fruit.

            “Done?” She asked.

            “Yeah, thirsty though.” I said.

            “Hm, I don't have any water or anything.” She said, “Oh, what about this?”

            “What?” I asked, watching as she began to form a ball of saliva on her lips. She pinched me up and pressed me to those monolithic pillows, forcing my face into the dank, acidic droplet. Without even thinking I took a deep draw, pants already bulging at how casually she was essentially spitting in my mouth.

            “There, better?” She sucked back in the remainder and pulled me away, dangling me by my waist over her lap.

            “God damn.” I said.

            “Hmm?” She smiled, satisfied.

            “You're just...so hot when you do stuff like that.” I admitted.

            “I know.” She placed me on her leg, “By the way, did you hear what Kelly and I were talking about before?”

            “Some stuff. Which do you mean?” I asked.

            “About whether or not we're dating.” Rachel said.

            “Ah, yeah, about that...” I trailed off. We sat in silence for a little while, perhaps both gathering our thoughts.

            “I'd like to.” I said, finally, “Be dating that is.”

            “Really?” She asked, “Even though I can be mean?”

            “Yes, really. Especially because you can be mean, not to mention you're fun, and beautiful, and I always want to spend time with you.” I said, “Do you want to do that? I mean, I know I'm not exactly, well, you know, amazing or anything.”

            “Oh, stop it.” Rachel said, “You're cute and smart and a great tutor and you make me laugh like eighty times a day. Of course I want to.”

            “I...” I had no idea how to respond. I had no idea how to react to a sincere compliment without sarcasm.

            “And you're the best little foot-rubber I've ever known.” She smirked.

            “I'll put that on my resume.” I said.

            “Be sure to put me down as a reference.” She laughed, the vibrations through her thigh causing me to shimmy inwards, knocking me past the point of balance, and roughly depositing me down that soft slope and onto the hard plastic of the chair, surrounded now by twin cyclopean structures, bulging out from the seam of just-too-tight shorts.

            “Oops!” She peeped.

            “Uh, hey, Rachel, are you like, talking to yourself out here?” I heard Kelly's voice after the creak of the door.

            “N-no!” Rachel said, swiftly bringing her thighs together, trapping me between the immensity of their plush weight, two blimps colliding without popping, hot loaves of soft bread enveloping me like a macrophage surrounds a bacterium.

            “Oookay. Hey, do you think I could smoke out here?” Kelly asked, which I could just barely hear.

            “If Toni catches you, you're dead, you know that, right?” Rachel said.

            “Ugh, you're probably right.” Kelly said.

            “So...” Rachel was clearly trying to hurry Kelly along, who didn't appear to be any rush. I tried to wiggle myself into a more tenable spot, but the colossal heft that surrounded me proved difficult to navigate, all the while the husky air grew more and more humid.

            “Whatever, I'll risk it.” Kelly said.

            “Your funeral.” Rachel sighed, defeated

            “Oh, shut up.” Kelly said, lighting up.

            They chatted for a while longer, and either I began to sweat, or Rachel's thighs did, or both, it was hard to tell. Regardless, the slippery coating made movement near impossible, and the seal it provided meant I could no longer eke out pockets of air. There was nothing I could do but allow this giant body to take me, to surround me, to consume me. Absorbed by those strong legs until there was no point of demarcation between us, just a spot, a region, an aspect of that chubby mass. Kinky Friedman supposedly said 'Find what you love and let it kill you,' but I don't think he ever meant it this literally.

            Finally, however, Rachel's thighs separated. I clung to one briefly, stuck by perspiration, before sliding back down to the plastic seat. The smell of clawing smoke hung in the air, but Kelly was nowhere to be seen.

            “Jeez, that was close.” Rachel said.

            “You're telling me.” I coughed.

            “Gotta be honest...” Rachel's fingers descended, one gently mussing my hair, “You feel pretty good no matter where I put you.”

            “That so?” I asked.

            “Yeah. Wanna add thigh-pet to your CV?” She asked, “'Cause I want to squeeze you between them more.”

            “Is that your way of asking me out?” I asked, jokingly but not actually joking.

            “What if it is?” She lifted her finger so that I could see her staring down at me between her legs.

            “I...well, yes, of course.” I said.

            “It's official then.” She said with a smile, her fingers grabbing me by the legs and lifting so that I was dangling upside down, rising up to her face. She pressed me to her lips, a full body kiss that ended with her tongue poking out and giving my face a playful lick. My tongue was there to meet it, a beat poet's version of a french kiss, cut and paste from such different sources it created some brilliant, new meaning.