The world came back with a whoosh, a tingling numbness all over. Silky softness at my back, and pulse throbbing in my head, in my bones, and my brain – as if drunk all over again – felt like it was stuffed with wool.

Large objects moved against me, pressing against my cheek to turn my head to one side. A big rounded object swiped against my brow a couple of times as if trying to brush my eyelids open, before giving up again. Another object pushed against my ribcage on the left side, holding there as if trying to feel for my heart, then moving to the side, pushing my arm up to access my armpit, trying to get close to my heart that way. Pressure shifted around my lower torso, depressing my belly and kneading around, but – to my relief – not going lower.

I blinked and light burst into my eyes, right as a giant fingertip hovered in front of my face and delivered a couple of light taps to my cheek.

“JERRY, WAKE UP!” Her voice vibrated in my skull, thrilled with panic. “YOU BETTER NOT BE KIDDING AROUND RIGHT NOW!”

My face felt shiny with balm and saliva, and now cooling by the air exposure, but a warm blush bloomed into my cheeks as I realized I’d passed out. That didn’t normally happen during make-out sessions.

Above, her eyes were surveying me in alarm, and then she relaxed.

“YOUR WHISKERS ARE GETTING LONG, FUZZBALL,” she murmured, as a thumb stroked back and forth along my beard. “I FEEL LIKE I’M TRYING TO EAT A LITTLE PRICKLY FRUIT.”

Meanwhile, since I’d blacked out, the fork of my underwear was pointing up, and she only then gave it notice. Her cool expression unchanging, a couple of fingertips came into contact with my bulge, capturing it and giving it a small squeeze, as if wondering what it was. Her eyes then returned to mine.

“QUICK RECOVERY,” she deadpanned.

I didn’t reply; now unable to meet her eyes, because whenever I lifted my gaze too high my head swam, and the bloodflow surging out of my brain to my groin wasn’t helping.

She gave my bulge another squeeze and I groaned.

“TIRED? THAT WAS JUST A LITTLE FOREPLAY EARLIER. WE’RE BARELY WARMING UP.”

Her hand lifted from me as she leaned over the bed to reach for something. I rubbed my hands over my face, still oiled up with lip balm.

“Okay, but let me pace myself, I need to fllff—!”

Even before I’d finished talking, an enormous, cold blob of jelly came out of nowhere and plopped onto my face. Next second, firm bumps were rolling around my features, smearing all over my head. It was lubricant.

Another cold blob was pressed on my chest and massaged all around my torso. More cold splotches were run up and down my arms and legs. Still in the dark with my eyelids pasted shut, I felt my penis get plucked up between jelly coated fingertips, to be pinched and pulled, the cold jelly like ice up and down my shaft. My flesh began to goosebump. Some of this jelly spilt onto my quivering nutsack, which was then gently rolled back and forth until it was completely coated.

Her fingers kept dipping into the lubricant and sliding around my body parts until I was all lubed up.

“THERE,” she said, satisfied. “SHINY NEW PAINT JOB AND READY FOR A TEST DRIVE.”

I wiped jelly from my lips, blinking rapidly to clear my eyes until the room came into focus again. The bedsprings creaked as she lay down on her back, spreading her legs apart on either side, knees bent, exposing the reddened slit. One hand slid down to peel the pussy lips back, and the fingers running up and down the lips as if invitingly.

“FAST,” she instructed, “LIKE YOU JUST CAN’T WAIT TO GET INSIDE.”

I jumped and tried to thrust my body inside all at once with a flying kick. My feet spilled out, flew forward and I ended up upside down, with my legs up, kicking at the air in defeat, and my spine bent back, and head jammed below her slit at a weird angle, my face wedged into her butt cheeks and – I sensed – come to rest calamitously close to her anus, which puckered against my scalp in surprise.

There was the sound of her laughter bubbling from above. She may not have seen what I’d done, but she could evidently feel I’d made a serious wrong turn somewhere.

Digging my elbow into a padded surface of flesh, I was able to free my face from the bottom of her crack, the lubricant making a sick squelching sound in my ears, like I was a sticker trying to peel myself off her just in time to see at the other end of the bed, framed on either side by her drawn up legs, her toes curling into the sheets with pleasure.

“OH, SO, THE OTHER WAY?" she said with mock surprise. Then purred suggestively, “I REALLY DON’T MIND.”

Cheeks growing hot, I decided the best response to was to pretend I hadn’t heard that.

My palms slid over mound flesh, looking for handholds before clenching around trimmed hair. This was a mistake; it must have tickled, as a glistening nail appeared in front of my eyes and flicked gently against my chin.

“AH…NOT LIKE THAT,” she cautioned gently, brushing her nails at my hands, effortlessly sweeping them off the short spikes of hair.

Grasping at bare flesh, I began pulling at the rim of her vagina, which worked to slide me in deeper. The rubbery walls tightened as my entry stimulated her. In response, I fought against the increasingly narrowing enclosure, flexing my shoulders and arms, bucking my legs, running my feet up and down the tunnel wall as hard as I could.

Her legs began flexing over the mattress.

“OH GOD….YOUR LITTLE COCK IS POINTING INTO MY G-SPOT. OH MY GOD, IT FEELS AMAZING.”

Long nails rapped at my skull.

“FUCK ME, JERRY. FUCK ME AS HARD AS YOU CAN.”

The tip of my rail stiff dick was buried into her flesh, which had tightened and begun to quiver, twitching around and tickling my glans. I started grinding my hips, dragging my dick back and forth against the moist canvas of sensitive G-spot membrane, and she let out a wailing moan over my head, her hips shifting with pleasurable convulsions. Entirely encircled by her pelvis, I was lifted and dropped, and bounced against the mattress as her hips bucked, while I continued to thrust inside her.

Pressure came down against the top of my head and my face began to slip past the fleshy folds surrounding her slit. Lost amidst the sensations, she was pushing down on my head with her palm without realizing it, basically ramming me deeper as I fought weakly to keep my head on the outside of her pussy.

Then, as she climbed to the peak of fulfilment, her vaginal sphincter drew intolerably tight and stiff around my neck like a cincture, while her muscular thighs collapsed inwards around my skull as if trying to crack it like a nut. My shoulders and ribcage began to buckle inwards, a rapid set of convulsions sending shockwaves of pressure through my entire body. During one of these her pussy walls seemed to grasp and squeeze the near life out of my dick, I came in an instant and my ejaculate was ferociously vacuumed out by the squeezing pull of the giant flesh straw surrounding me. Then it was over; the stress collapsed as she finished climaxing – as much a relief for me as it was for her.

As my strained neck relaxed and my head dropped back against the bottom of her slit, the wet folds of pussy lips were now slackening, settling over each side of my face and resting there like two, soggy pillows.

“DON’T LAUGH,” her contented throaty burr rumbled across the bed, “BUT…YOU FEEL LIKE YOU WERE MADE EXACTLY FOR THE SHAPE OF MY PUSSY. JUST LET ME KEEP YOU THERE FOR A LITTLE WHILE., ‘CAUSE IT’S LIKE—” she let out a small purring moan, “—PURE HEAVEN.”

Following this, an extended silence. Her legs shifted restlessly, buffeting me back and forth a little. There was a soft raking sound as her long toenails clenched the sheets. She seemed to be waiting for something, a response maybe.

Finally she said, more quietly:

“IF YOU FEEL THE SAME WAY, JUST SAY SO. I WOULD LIKE THAT A LOT, IN FACT.”

“I love you,” I gasped breathlessly from beneath her swollen, reddened labial folds, currently luxuriating in the tender sensation of me panting for breath into them, and with no immediate intention of letting me up anytime soon. “Of course I do.”

I couldn’t say any more; I had to keep shifting my head around to line up with the air admitted through the gash, the folds kept sliding back into position over my face and sticking there, shutting it up again.

She got specific:

“YOU LIKE MY PUSSY, THOUGH, DON’T YOU, LITTLE GUY?”

“I wouldn’t be down here if I didn’t.”

“WELL, SHE LIKES YOU. I MEAN, IF SHE WAS A PERSON SHE’D BE SMOTHERING YOU IN KISSES RIGHT NOW.”

“She pretty much is smothering me in kisses right now,” trying to speak through the tail end of post-climax fluid dribbling out and down my face. “Anyway, I’m getting married to you, not your pussy.”

One of the labial folds peeled back from my face, admitting the tip of a pointer finger to snake in and brush over my lips.

“I WOULD BE SMOTHERING THAT LITTLE FACE IN MORE KISSES BUT NOT WHEN IT’S COVERED IN GOOP. BUT NEVER MIND THAT…” her legs drew in as she adjusted her pelvis over the mattress, causing me to be bobbed around. Her voice became softer as her legs opened slightly, “…MORE IMPORTANTLY: YOU NOT TOO SQUISHED…?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “Just remember to take me out.”

Satisfied with my answer, she said:

“SCRATCH MY G-SPOT AND I’LL REMEMBER.”

Then everything went black as the blanket swooped over my head, settling with a heavy ‘whumpf’ sealing me in the tight, moist, sticky darkness.

*

The daylight then rained down and, from inside the church, an organ was playing.

My old friend Scott was standing at my side, no longer in his signature leather jacket, but looking scrubbed up in a suit and tie, his previously shaved head now grown out enough to rock an actual hairstyle, his hair gelled back over his scalp.

“Feels good to find the right person, doesn’t it?” he grinned. “I knew it would all work out for you; just got to be patient.”

He gestured to the church’s façade ahead.

“She’s waiting for you. Get in there, man! Hurry up! – And good luck!”

He slapped me on the back as I dashed through the gaping open, arched church doors .The dim stony narthex transformed into the open, lit long corridor of the nave.

Only to find it was not a church interior, but a staggeringly vast cathedral, walls drifting up into the heavens and polished marble floor spanning out across a football field, at a scale rivalling something grand like the inside of the St. Vitus Cathedral, except the rows of wooden pews similarly stretched up over my head. Looking straight ahead, my immediate sights were thick with bare ankles, pant hems, shiny leather shoes and women’s heels, shifting restlessly over the shining marble floor, the owners all probably wondering where I was and why I was taking so long.

Trying to take a step forward down the red carpet, my foot wouldn’t lift. When I looked down at the floor my feet were replaced with a pair of pink clawed paws. My hands were also soft, pink and clawed. In fact, my whole body was covered in brown fur, bristling with growing horror. A long pointed pink tail twirled and flicked around my ankles.

Then my pink paw hands were dropping to the floor until I could no longer straighten, and remained stuck on all fours.

I screamed, but only a squeak came out.

*

There was a whoosh of cool air as the blanket flipped back and the world tilted over until I was looking sideways at the wall, grainy as my eyes adjusted to the dark. The heavy weight of a thigh lifted up off my head as the giant leg bent upwards. The inner thigh flesh peeled like a sticker against my dried, slightly gummy cheeks, then came free as the inner thighs separated.

Somewhere off the bed, over on the bedside table, digital numerals glowed out reading 3.37 AM.

“YOU FEEL KIND OF DRY AND STUCK DOWN THERE,” she whispered, and then grunting a little as she shifted around, causing me to tilt around with her, as she reached over for the jar of lube. A moment later a thick slab of cold jelly plopped down over my face and was massaged around. The firm blunt fingerpads travelled down my jaw and began kneading against my neck, trying to wedge in and separate it from the surrounding vaginal flesh, which was now like a gummy, close fitting collar around my neck. I groaned as, more than a couple of times, the pointy nails poked me in the throat a little hard, cramping my Adam’s apple, or that’s what it felt like.

While this was going on, her probing hand accidentally pushed my face up against the tight fold of her clitoral hood, causing my nose to accidentally poke under the hood and tickle her sensitive nub.

The deep machine-like rush and pull of her breathing caught.

The hand went still.

Trying to extract my nose, I tossed my head to the side, accidentally brushing the hood with my cheek as I did so. Then I held my breath and froze.  It had been so close; she had almost been about to pull me out. But too late.

She was aroused again.

Her hand slithered away as if stunned, and her voice returned, merely a clandestine whisper:

“MMM…I THINK I WANT TO HAVE YOU ALL OVER AGAIN…CAN I INTEREST YOU IN ANOTHER TASTE…?”

Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, I was again running my feet up and down her tunnel wall, whilst eagerly working my tiny tongue up under her clitoral hood, taking it in my mouth and pulling at it. This had immediate effect.

The air clamoured with desperate wailing as the mattress revolved around my head as she rolled over onto her stomach, arching her back and clawing at the mattress, burying her head into the pillows.

My face was repeatedly being pounded downwards at the mattress as her hips grinded, battling a building dizzy spell I kept probing my tongue around under her hood.

In a heightening fervor, she wrenched at a pillow and jammed it between her legs, needing to squeeze her thighs around something as she was being built up, but accidentally walloping my face full-on with the pillow and smothering me under it as it grinded back and forth across my head. My tongue worked away faster, and the thighs became brick walls compacting my head inwards until I thought my temples would burst.

But her desperate moaning urged me to fight past the pain and continue. She was saying ‘yes!’ and ‘Jerry!’ and ‘don’t stop!’ but it was incredibly muffled through her thick thigh flesh clamped like headphones around my ears, my tiny face was almost entirely swallowed up between the surrounding borders of her thighs, mound, lips and the pillow she was straddling tightly.

Her passage was bear hugging my body, crushing me narrower and narrower, cramps quivering up and down my muscles as they fought to reduce the physical space ever further, while I was so oiled up in female fluid I felt like I was being turned into a melting candle, hot and dripping. And, no mistake, her tight tunnel was doing everything it could to compact me long and thin like a candle.

With one brutal spasm, the muscular opening of her vagina then drew so tight around my vulnerable throat that blood vessels twitched and thumped painfully in my brow. My airways were pinched shut from neck down as her lower anatomy vacillated leisurely on the peaks and troughs of the orgasmic waves, trying to soak up every last second of build-up before hitting the climax, while my face quickly turned tomato red and the blood vessels in my eyeballs strained. The recent orgasms had not diminished her vigor.

The vicious scrunch held around my neck for what seemed like an agonizingly long time – everything lower had gone numb. Then it relinquished, letting my airways open up again, and my ribcage expand. She let out a deep, satisfied sigh, while I opened my mouth gratefully to suck in oxygen, but instead got a copious hot slushie that poured down my esophagus before I could stop it. As the tunnel had loosened again, warm sticky fluid kept gushing over my face freely, like a dam had burst.

As I choked back this unsolicited mixture, she separated her legs a little, the pillow rolled across my scalp as it was pulled out and put aside. Then she let out another long sigh, and went still, leaving me staring straight down at the mattress.

*

The organ music had faded to leave the vast cavernous cathedral hall in stony silence.

My eyes dropped down at whatever body materialized: now human hands, black shoes, a tuxedo. I sighed in relief, and then, with a gulp, started forward, heading down a long red carpet – broad as an entire room in itself – through the intolerably large space, the air humming with nerve-wracking silence. The weight of all the air stacked in the dizzying ceiling space above seemed to press down on me from above.

At the end of the carpet stood a white apparition: bright against the red carpet, a plume of bridal dress tapered up into an hourglass waist and veil down the back obscuring the head. She was turned away, facing the altar, not even having heard me as I’d entered, nor hearing me approaching, as my tiny footsteps made no noise on the soft carpet.

An older male’s voice thundered across the room from somewhere at the Chancel:

“HAS ANYONE SEEN THE GROOM…?”

Above a chorus of irritated chattering, random voices provided various curt, mumbling answers:

“NOPE.”

“NOT EVEN A PEEP.”

“I KNEW THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA.”

“WHAT DOES SHE SEE IN HIM?”

“IF SHE CAN SEE HIM AT ALL.”

My heart squeezed with dismay, but I forced my legs forward, keeping my eyes straight ahead on the silky white train gracing the floor.

“I’m here!” I cried, but again my voice came out as a mouselike squeak, and this time I clenched my eyes shut, refusing to look down and see what had happened to my hands and feet, and everything else.

*

Stirring movements, heavy weights rustling around against the silky sheets. Warmth and feeling had seeped back into my limbs. Her tunnel was cocooning me, but her legs must have been spread apart; my head was free.

Then I gagged. The air was eye-wateringly stale: a thick and stormy brew of vaginal musk, the strong scent of her sex, sweat, and – I suspected – silent emissions of nocturnal gas. As I squirmed, her pelvic floor tightened around me as if remembering that I was down here. From the other side of the blanket, a confused sleepy groan.

Then the satin sheets were being stretched and whispered over my face, before flipping away completely, cool air tickling my skin. The fresh air swept in, giving my cramping lungs reprieve.

The thighs gripped my ears as she rolled over, turning me around with them until I was facing the wall, where the bedside clock said 4.42 AM. The numbers flashed only for an instant before a big log slammed down on the side of my head, trapping it in an iron sandwich. Her lifted leg had unconsciously dropped directly against the other, clamping my tiny head between her thighs. Pain shot up my neck into my temples, and stunned, my legs started kicking frantically.

Get up! I was begging internally because my jaw was locked up under a ton of pressure, Get up! Get off my head! Arrgghhh…!

The stretchy cocoon flexed around me as my convulsive motions agitated her still tender nether regions, inadvertently goading her libido back to life. Even as I thrashed and my feet skidded around inside her, the walls were thickening with her glandular honey.

The throaty groan came again, now not so sleepy and confused but swelling with lust.

“YOU’RE SO FRISKY…!” her voice crackled with an undercurrent of excitement, “MUST HAVE READ MY MIND…”

Her touch was now rough and clumsy from sleepiness; fingers caught my temples between them, giving my head a faint twist like it was a jar lid she was trying to unscrew, before a thumb blundered over my brow, accidentally grinding my eyelids beneath the ridges of the grippy print.

“READY FOR YOUR NEXT FLIGHT, PUSSY PILOT?” she drawled groggily, and let out a low laugh. “JUST START THE ENGINE AND I’LL TAKE YOU FOR A LITTLE RIDE.”

Her moist tunnel drew inwards, squeezing me like toothpaste until I began to squelch towards her opening, before the flat of a hand drove down upon the crown of my head, driving me back up the tube. Another powerful pelvic flexion sending me back down the tunnel towards the slit opening, before impatient fingertips caught me, battering against my head to poke me back inside, this time deeper. Another hip thrust and I was squeezing back out, but the hand was waiting, immediately pushing me back inside…

Alongside each thrusting motion, my legs kicked and my shoulders strained, fighting to keep the tunnel walls collapsing in around me, though they inevitably did, forcing me along the dripping chute. Each spasm of her swelling passage bent my ribcage narrower and narrower, sucking the air right out of my lungs, and increasingly enfeebled my struggles for ever-diminishing space.

The world spun as she rolled over and stacked pillows up and bent herself over and around them, experimenting with different positions to heighten her pleasure, all while I worked away inside her musk-fuming furnace, kicking my legs and flexing my shoulder and arms, puffing the hot stale air into my aching, tight lungs, sweat pouring off my body and my heart bursting in my chest, feeling like a hamster sprinting full pelt inside a wheel, pushing my body to the limit whilst being fixed in place.

My dick grinded rawly up and down her shuddering walls until I squelched down the tunnel once again, as if teasingly about to escape, only for the vaginal sphincter to scrunch around my throat at the last second as if to stop me, gagging me for the duration of her shattering climax. I grew light-headed as her pelvic convulsions stimulated my dick to breaking point, tightening against my bulge, then loosening, then tightening again, and again, faster and faster. The exertions managed to milk my overtaxed balls of yet more; by now it felt like my life force was being drained out and one more gruelling ejaculation might snatch my life away by cardiac arrest.

Meanwhile, at the same time, fluid was pooling up around my chest, and the instant the muscular ligature released my throat, the stream broke, spilling over my face in warm bubbly ropes.

Pushing the stack of pillows aside, she collapsed onto the mattress, coiling the sheets around her legs as she arched her back and moaned with contentment, riding the afterglow. She murmured something to me, but the blood gushing through my ears drowned it out. The soft sheets rubbed back and forth across my face, wiping the goo off. With my skull throbbing but cushioned between her blush-red, climax-puffy labia, tiny face nestled up under the folds of satin fabric, wound between her faintly shifting legs, my breathing relaxed and my head began to slump…

*

The organ had started up again, Wagner’s Wedding March straining through the air.

The bride stood immobile at the other end of the room while I continued to pad down the red carpet. My shoes were back, and the rest of me, in my tuxedo, but I kept my eyes straight ahead, reasoning that as long as I didn’t look down, my body wouldn’t change again.

But the rest of the building did. With the next step the bride’s expanded form strangely seemed to shrink a little, and a little more, and the walls of the church were scrolling down, as the tops of the pews came into sight, and the backs of peoples’ heads. As I drew closer, the bride continued to shrink in perspective until I was staring at the back of her head, parallel with her, our heights perfectly matched.

The woman turned, first her head, and then seeing it was me, her whole body spun to face me, her bridal veil shifted out of the way to give me a glimpse of her face. My jaw dropped.

Her fair-hair was long, voluminous, the sides pulled around her head in a half-up chignon, the rest ran down her back in cascading curls that made me think of some modern day Rapunzel. She didn’t just look ‘girl next door’ cute anymore, she looked positively beautiful, mature and glamorous, better than I remembered, and her eyes were warm and filled with affection for me.

She gave me an irresistible, radiant smile as she pushed forward against me, throwing her arms around my neck.

“I always said he was going to stand at my side,” warm breath tickled my neck, “and here you are.”

As her arms slid down again, something warm and soft burrowed into my hand; her own hand which squeezed and interlinked our fingers. I slipped my other arm around her waist as her other hand came up against the back of my neck and we shared a long kiss. 

The hall erupted with applause, and turning briefly to cast my eyes back through the church pews I could make out familiar faces in the crowd and see they had all made it to the wedding: Scott, Tasha, Stuart and his girlfriend, Remy and his boyfriend…and…and…

*BANG!* – *BANG!* – *BANG!*

Rapid booms made the cathedral walls shiver, disturbing clouds of dust from the vaulted ceiling to tumble down, glimmering in the sun beams shining through the windows.

The bride and I broke apart as people gasped and wailed from across the church, voices echoing in the stony cavernous interior.

The bride’s eyes spanned the walls in confusion and then, finally, stopped on me with a look of dread and, for some reason, accusation.

“What was that?”

My voice refused to come out, although I knew the answer to her question already, because the hairs on the back of my neck had begun to rise in a very particular way. It was like someone had knocked on a door but grossly magnified, obscenely loud as if from an abundant reserve of energy and impulsivity. Or something else.

Then a horrible crackling sound around the ceiling, more dust spilling down, before a thunderous ripping, the pouring in of air and sunlight on us all as the entire roof of the church was torn away.

Screams rent the air as people jumped up and fled down the carpet and out of the church.

The light dimmed and there was now a gargantuan shape looming over the edge of the cracked church walls, eclipsing the sun.

Long nails curled around the broken wall edges to steady the gigantic looming form as the dark shape tilted in over the building, inclining down to better view the now chaotic proceedings inside, as it did so, a long ropey tail of dual-colored hair dropped down the inner church wall like a tapestry banner.

My eyes flicked back to the bride, and her face was on me, aghast.

“Run!” I said.

And in that instant a shadow collapsed upon us as a giant arm telescoped down from the ceiling and onto the bride, plates of long gleaming nails passed right by my face, capping the ends of huge, long fingers that transformed into a flesh manacle flexing around the white plume skirt, drawing around her legs.

She tried to lunge free and dropped onto the floor as her legs were held in place.

“Jerry, don’t leave me!” she screamed, as she clawed at the red carpet.

No, I thought, goddamn it, I am not losing you again—!

I dove at the floor, making a grab for her hands and hold on, next second she was whipped up into the air over my head.

When I jumped up to look, she was dangling upside down high above the busted church walls, while giant fingertips pinched the end of her white skirt where her ankles were, the bridal veil trailing down in the air.

A pair of huge green eyes scrutinized her with dispassionate curiosity, like she was a plaything, while, below, a pair of massive lips sucked inward briefly, thoughtful and savoring.

A low feminine voice shook the air:

“I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO THIS…”

A shiver of horror raced up my spine.

“No!” I screamed up at the sky, balling my fists, “Stop! You’re going to kill her!”

But the mammoth head was tilting back, the throat convulsing to swallow the tide of building, anticipatory saliva, eyelids drifting closed as the jaw stretched open, preparing for the small squirming shape of the bride, dangling upside down being lowered towards the curled back lips…

This was the last sight I got before I could will my eyes closed, but didn’t think to block my ears soon enough not to hear the moist sucking gulp.

When I next could stomach a look, the bride had vanished, the giant lips were sucking inward again, smacking.

In helpless despair, I stared around at the now empty church pews.

“You’ve ruined everything!”

“IT WAS RUINED AS SOON AS THE BUFFET RAN OUT OF MINIATURE ÉCLAIRS,” came the quaking response. “AND HERE’S A TIP FOR YOUR WINE CATERER – COGNAC. IT’S A DIGESTIF. AND AFTER THAT,” her eyelids closed for a second as she suppressed a burp, “I THINK I’M GOING TO NEED IT.”

“No! No cognac! Get out of the roof!”

"HOLD IT, MISTER."

She lifted a finger at me in warning. Then her eyes focused on me with laser precision, the stare of a cheetah right before it lunges at prey.

“LET ME FINISH OFF THE SECOND COURSE.”

The architecture let out groans of protest as she shifted against the external framework, her head bowing down into the ceiling airspace, eyes locked onto me, the enormous arm snaking down again, fingers opening to grasp –

I spun around and was running back down the red carpet even knowing with final dread it was too late.

“Aaaargggghhh!”

*

The mattress groaned as heavy weight stirred and shifted, causing the surface beneath to bump around like a water bed.

Cool air fanned over me; my face was free of the satin sheets again, and the rest of my body felt loose and light, now outside her tunnel, my back against the mattress. To the side, the clock numerals glowed out through the darkness, reading 5.14 AM.

A croaking breath issued from my throat.

She moved up against my side, lifting her head, propping herself up on one arm, sliding her other hand over the mattress towards me to rest the pads of two fingers against my chest. It was not nearly enough pressure to keep me pinned to the bed, but the symbolic gesture was effective enough.

“LOOK AT YOU! SO PERKY…” Her voice came out a threadbare murmur of astonishment, and she was so sleepy she could barely get the words out straight.

I stared at the ceiling dumbly, as the fingers lifted off my chest, trailed downwards and closed around my erection, tugging with gusto, lifting my pelvis off the mattress for an instant, making my tired, sore balls screw up tight in fear.

“…I LOVE IT!”

My dick was rolled back and forth as she awaited my response, shaft being stretched almost painfully, and grinded around between the grippy ridges of her fingerprints, teased until it was achingly tender.

“Uhhh…” I groaned.

Before I could say anything else, my chest was squeezed up in anxiously grasping fingers, lifted from the mattress and drawn into the depths of the stuffy oven beneath the blankets. Massive movements played around in the darkness; her enormous form rolled and steadied into a comfortable position on her back, thighs spread out, one hand opened the slit and the other jammed my feet into it.

Pressure driving downwards on my head, sending my body slipping down her damp crevice, though less quick to moisten now, she needed to apply more pressure to manipulate me up and down. Her hand shadowed over my face as fingers pinched my skull and yanked, dragging my face over her clitoris.

Her hand slapped over the bedside table, scooping up lube which was then slapped over my face like a moisturizing mask, roughly patted around my features before gripping my head, drawing my body out to receive more chilled lube which was roughly patted around my body before I was slid back in. As I shivered inside her tunnel, it screwed up around my torso and head, defensive and irritated by the cold, as if trying to smother the life out of me in punishment for the unwelcome stimulation.

Then the walls were in fierce exercise, pounding in at me like gnawing jaws, scrunching my muscles and flexing my spine. The top of my head bumped against the inside of a cupped hand which was simultaneously stroking her clit and rimming the lips.

The world disappeared behind a fog, my body must have continued to writhe even unconsciously, then I was awake again, muscles still pulling and jerking, still being chewed up in the muscular jaws of her pelvis as she approached the height of ecstasy. Now the vaginal opening had slipped into position just beneath my jaw, too comfortably as if by habit, and when it pulled around my throat and held there, stars flickered in front of my eyes before the world went dark again.

In an instant, it was back, the band of muscle still around my neck, throbbing, flexing my overburdened throat muscles, and the pressure of building fluid rolling up along my body towards my head, ready to burst. The band of tension around my neck snapped, the dammed up fluid gushed out, bathing my face in cloying, watery glue. Meanwhile, her thighs tensed as she stretched powerfully and let out a big, satisfied yawn. Suddenly, the world flipped as she turned over, and the sheets rustled as she gently raked her nails over her aroused breasts before settling and going still.

Exhausted beyond reason, and in agony for air beneath the slow moving, syrupy spillage gluing up my airways, my eyes rolled back into my head…