Day 204

It had been a while since Violet had let me watch. She said that she had more fun when all three of us could participate at once. Of course, it was harder for her to keep me a secret when I was intimately involved.

I’d been inserted into their vaginas, wet and throbbing and inviting, and I'd been plugged into their assholes, tight and dark and, frankly, uninviting. I'd been swirled around in their mouths, pushed and pulled by tongues I couldn't tell apart during maelstroms of kissing. I’d been rubbed along reddening ears, smashed into excited clits, and massaged into enthusiastic nipples.

And somehow, almost mystically, Violet had managed to do all of that without letting Camille know I existed as the third member of their threesome. Violet had insisted that she wouldn’t give up my privacy to Camille, and I’d long since given up trying to make sense of that logic. I think that Camille convinced her that I was a series of different toys, but in all honesty it was usually hard to follow their conversations while I was being pressed against a set of hungry labia.

This time, she had said I could sit this one out. Last night had included vigorous, gymnastic sex between my two most recent partners. Both Violet and Camille were divinely beautiful, devilishly creative, and – to me –almost literally goddesses. Last night had also included, for my part, especially vigorous… watching.

We woke up the next morning to discover that Camille had shrunk to a statuesque two inches.

Violet looked distraught. “I swear, I had no idea you weren’t immune. It’s been so long that I just assumed…. But I’m… I’m so sorry. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

From my vantage point of the bedside table, the tears that fell down Violet’s enormous splotchy cheeks looked real. The gentleness with which she picked the tiny woman up couldn’t have been faked – I’d had too many unfortunate handling experiences to be unable to tell.

But even from here, I could see Violet’s eyes. Her gaze was focused and steady on Camille, who was standing in the middle of a giant palm and rotating slowly in a daze. Violet’s pupils were tight, enraptured pinpricks. With an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, I felt like I was looking into the windows of her soul. Then Violet raised her hand to her face, forcing Camille to pay attention to her. “I do have some good news, though.”

I was too far away to hear Camille, but she looked like she’d perked up at that.

“I’ll show you.”

Before I could react, Violet had swung herself around to face the bedside table and lowered her passenger to a spot just inches from where I was.

My ex-girlfriend stared, dumbfounded, down at me. She was naked and twice my height. I was, uncomfortably, face-to-face with her vulva. For some reason, I thought it would make me feel better to move my line of sight to Violet. It was a mistake.

She was staring intensely and silently down at the two of us. I tried to meet her eyes, but after half a second it became too much and I had to turn away. I had looked into a black hole: it was dark, and infinitely deep, and, somehow, even more hungry.