The mask running down my face kept me unable to talk back.

At that point, I lost all sight of her above the waistline. Her shoulders settled against the mattress, and gracefully drew her legs up until they balanced on the balls of her feet. Her muscles rippled, poised to thrust.

Then I realized what she was talking about.

The dimensions of her ass filled my vision, the twins of plush muscle and flesh screwing into tight balls as her glutes squeezed with anticipation. She used her free hand to separate the cheeks until there was no avoiding the shadowed puckered anus I was imminently doomed to be sucked inside. I was jabbed forward and the cheeks glommed onto my head. The wrinkled fissure, lightly greased with sweat due to the warmth, came forth out of the trench of her crack to plant a huge, thick-lipped, slutty kiss on my face, and stick there like an intoxicated lover, sucking me indulgently as her muscles pulled and flexed.

She was so aroused the anus wouldn’t loosen, and immediately I felt like a tiny fruit being fed and strained through a juicer, wrung into pulp. As I entered her, inch by agonizing inch, the muscular ring gripped and crunched me with bodybuilder strength. The airspaces in my body were crushed up like a soda can being decompressed until my muscles began to quiver and I was convinced I was turning into a boneless noodle.

The anal sphincter slid past my scalp again, in reverse, and the white ceiling burst into my eyes, dancing with little spots. A cowl of greasy ass slime clung to my face. The unforgiving ring then crunched tight, wrapping up my neck like tape until I began to cough and squeak for breath, straining for clean air. Then I was plunging back into the crack, into the anus that was like a hungry mouth, and it all went dark and tight again.

The clinging airspace made breathing like sucking sweltering, noxious air through a very narrow straw. Such a pinchhold was placed on my head by her ass muscles that my skull was straining to burst. The rectal walls squished together vigorously, suckling on me, compressing my entire form as if trying to turn me inside out.

Each rapid retraction the world reappeared outside the smooth moons of her ass, but most of it was blocked by the tremendous log that was a dildo, pistoning in and out right past my face, shining with a new coat of lubricant every time it re-emerged.

Humiliating that it was so large, bigger than my entire body. It was clear when she said I fit her perfectly, it wasn’t by pure girth. She meant I fit like a tampon, comfortably and unobtrusively, capable of taking a severe jolt of pressure and resizing to conform to her dimensions.

Every time she pulled me out, her thumb dug deeper under my ribcage. The compressing force came in beats, I fought to take a breath anytime her thumb relaxed, for the slightest second. Then the insides of her bowel once again looped around my world like a horizon, choking off the fresh air, the slimy intestinal membrane rubbed my body up and down, greasing me in obnoxious secretions and the fetid sauna made my heart thump.

I was rotated and re-inserted feet first for another series of insertions. Then she paused and stretched her legs out on the bed, grunting with pleasure. Only my head protruded from her anus, and the tension of the stretch seemed to bend through my head until I thought I’d pass out.

I let out a pitiful sound.

"LET’S TAKE FIVE, SHALL WE?” she decided aloud.

From my tiny nook fitted into her asshole, the whole world was squashed into a narrow slit between her sofa-sized butt cheeks. This slim window tilted upside down as she sprung off the bed and bounded into the bathroom. Caught on the very end of her generous hips, my head was given a bouncy sway with every step.

The world pivoted right around and it seemed like I was dropping head first into the toilet bowl, but at the last second stopped aas her butt hit the seat. Hung there, I stared between the valley of her cheeks at the aqua surface below, reflecting a shadowy portrait of my face where her anus should be: pinched between her buns.

Her all-surrounding nether regions gave a small squeeze, a weak stream erupted, followed her vaginal cleft down, and dribbled over my helpless face, soaked into my hair and dripped off the top of my head. I shook my head as I was washed over by the intense-smelling amber currents. With my head positioned upside down, the acrid stream had no resistance against running up my nostrils and in under my eyelids. Pretty soon my entire face was burning; the burn burrowed in behind my eyeballs, deep inside my ears, my gums.

She sighed deeply, sending another squeeze through her butt. Her lower anatomy was puffy and tired, the urethra tapered by pressure at the tip, so the draining process was slow. The stream carried on, flickering thinly but unbroken, determined to break down my resistance by sheer endurance. My mouth was clamped shut, my nostrils were full of fluid. I refused air in or out. My head was swollen, pounding with her clammy odor.

The stream paused for a couple of seconds. She let out a breath. Then, with a warm pulse, it recommenced its transit over my begrudging features. Something thicker and stickier followed, trailing down my head like a warm slug. Female ejaculate that had been expressed via her frustrated squeezing. It was too big and thick to run into my nose, and got stuck in my eyelashes instead, gluing my eyelids shut. I trembled in suppressed disgust. The steady emission of hot urine soon melted the cum away.

After finishing up, she moved to the sink. As her hips swayed, my head was pushed back and forth by the muscular commands of her gluteus. As one muscle chunk flexed and corresponding leg lifted to take a step, my head rocked in the opposite direction. With the next step, my neck strained as my head was bodily pushed back. The speed of her energized footfalls turned my head into a little stubby tail, wagging gently as if expressing her happiness. Knowing she was happy where I was wasn’t guesswork: she let out a small amused sound at the lewd fondling going on around the sensitive surrounding region of her asshole.

A thumb and pointer clapped around the top of my head. The edge of her thumb rested just on my brow, any lower and it would have been pressing my eyes. There was a wrench through my neck and collarbones and then I was on the outside again, the cool air fanning over my hot, sticky skin. The faucet squeaked and the air was immediately replaced by icy cold water. I kicked and wrestled with the water while her fingertips, around my head, kept me hostage. Her other hand swept close, washing her own hands with antibacterial soap all over. My flesh crawled. I couldn’t see through the chill spout of water, but felt her soaped fingertips run over my face in massaging circular motions, down my chest and stomach, tugging my penis, and then washing my legs. The massage reversed direction, travelling back up to my head, and completed this trip a handful of times. Each time pausing at my groin, unable to resist the urge to bat it like a toy with the flick of a nail.

Back in the bedroom, I came down upon the bed, numbed by cold and flopped down upon to the mattress, muscles all over still twinging from the abuse of being wrung in and out of her asshole like a pencil through a sharpener.

Her great upper body smoothly lifted off the bed and hung over me. She sat up, kneeling with a huge gap between her legs, as if straddling an invisible saddle. Instead of a horse, there was just the diminutive length of my body, lying on my back on the mattress between her legs.

Looking straight up, the flab of her furred mound bordered the bottom of my view, with the undersides of her breasts like two eclipses against the ceiling.

Sweeping her hair back from her perspiring face, she gripped her thighs and re-positioned slightly for comfort. This caused the mound to shift along until it was past my head. With my head relaxed against the mattress, I was peering straight up at the dark, wet opening of her vagina. The opening pulsed and flexed like a beating heart as currents of pleasure ran through her muscles, and gradually working to strain fluid out.

She focused on her breathing, taking measured, sweeping inhales. Exhausted beyond reason, I tried to mirror her breathing, but could only pant and suck at the air like I’d just been swimming. Meanwhile, a crystal clear drop of pre-cum ballooned from the lip of her puckered red vagina, stretched long like a string of drool, and even as I watched, finally broke free. By the time it landed in my mouth it was too late; the slimy secretion was already running down my throat, plugging up my windpipe like expanding sealant. What was a tiny drop to her was like a bursting mouthful to me. My chest was cramping too hard for me to even cough it up. I waited desperately for the ropey strand to sink into my stomach so I could breathe again. It was so sticky, it took a several moments.

Meantime, another gluggy bead was beginning to grow at the edge of her slit.

I uttered a groan as air raced back into my lungs. She took this as a sound of impatience – she had not yet come – and explained:

“I’VE GOT THIS AMAZING PLATEAU GOING ON AND I’M JUST KINDA FLOWING WITH IT.”

Directly above my head, the projecting shelf of her bust was going up and down with the energized tempo of her accelerated heartrate. The droplet detached like a ripe fruit and plopped onto my forehead, splashing into my eyes. I grunted. It was humiliating that something so tiny as a droplet, shredded from her private womanly parts without the slightest regard from her, could nearly drown me or blanket out my entire world.

When my eyes stopped hurting and itching, they were fixed back on her cleft. The puffy lips were blowing yet another bubble of pussy drool, expanding even as I eyed it. I rocked my tired, trembling body, trying to scoot away from the invisible cum bullseye.

But a sharp nail dropped down to give my belly an admonitory poke. I let out a small squeak.

“DON’T EVEN MOVE A MUSCLE, BUSTER! I’M SO ON A TIGHTROPE RIGHT NOW AND YOU’RE GONNA RUIN EVERYTHING.”

To be fair, she had a habit of accelerating to the climax, so withholding was pretty special for her.

Her sharp nail prickled into my belly until I obediently went still, and then departed. My stomach scrunched with dread as I watched the succulent folds of her labia take another spit shot. This one on my cheek.

Again I tried to move. She responded immediately.

Out of nowhere, the shining wet tip of the giant dildo came flying in and burying my head beneath the grinding pressure of the silicone glans. She used it to pin me to the mattress while my legs kicked, and my hands pounded at the firm false cock.

The grinding weight lifted and my head slumped back. Blood rumbled in my ears. I stared up at her drippy gash in defeat.

She groaned, loud with pleasure. This was the only warning before her hips gave an almighty buck, a power twerk, fast like an electric current had run through her pelvis. All her withholding had built up a reservoir of backlogged fluid.

Warmth and wetness detonated in my face. My airflow stopped up entirely with a thick pale mucal blob that had migrated down from the cervix in an avalanche of sex fluid, and it lodged in my throat like glue. I began to cough and wheeze for air as my face started to turn red.

Meanwhile, she rolled onto her side, heady on the delayed climax. Finally surveying me, she tried to suppress a chuckle, but failed, and then said, half amused and half bashful:

“I WAS TRYING TO SQUIRT YOUR TUMMY.”

She took deep sighs of pleasure to catch her breath again, her skin glowing and rosy with the fulfillment of the act, glittering with sweat.

My face was going purple and my eyes were bugging out.

Her hand wrapped around my middle and began subjecting my body to repeated, painful squeezes – a kind of full body Heimlich maneuver. The blob was just about to be expelled when a pinky fingernail rammed into my face, wrenching my jaw open while the nail kept on powering forward, the glassy underside of the nail trapping my tongue to the floor of my mouth as it battered to my tonsils in an attempt to poke the congestion down. She held me right up under her eyes, trying to strain my jaw open to see down my throat. I shut my eyes against the dry blasts of her breath and with agonizing compulsion worked my throat in desperation, utterly choking on her nail, and after three attempts was able to swallow the glob.

Satisfied I was okay – if utterly defeated by the power and dominance of her sex – she went into the bathroom and the shower water beat through the wall. Some people used a shower to wake up. She needed the shower to relax. It was also another excuse to play with my body with the excuse of washing me.

She burst back into the room, coming for me.

“No…” I said, knowing how hot she liked them.

Her fingertips pinched my waist delicately and lifted me into the air. She just shook her head and gave a grunting sigh. My head had been sucked on by her ass and now played the role of a tissue for a cervical sneeze; there was no argument. The meaty, gristly scent of her insides had sunk into my pores.

Within seconds the water was beating the top of my head like a drum, the rest of my body captured in her grip. The sweltering, muggy atmosphere was not unlike the inside of her, and the heat made my heart pound again.

She lathered her palms with soap and then my body was being passed back and forth between her hands, rotated indiscriminately and set upon all over by determined stubbed fingertips, waxy with soap, which grinded and scrubbed with maddening patience.

Once this was over, she placed me onto the shower floor. I migrated to the corner of the cubicle but she demanded I stand at her leg, doing my best to hug her ankle, to remind her where I was while she washed herself.

Once showered, we went back into the bedroom, towelled off but remained naked. She stretched luxuriously, gave me a warm smile, and now not driven by the pressure to climax, could relax and indulge me in my all-time favorite activity with her: cuddling. Her soft fingertips batted at me, capturing my body parts and fondling me like I was a little doll. Unable to settle, she spent several moments swatting me, trapping me under the expanse of her palm, and playfully blowing on my head to ruffle my hair.

I grew tired before she did and began to protest against her hands that were constantly swooping in on me to snatch me up or pet me with cloistering affection. My body curled with instinctive self-defence and once her groping failed to produce the responses she wanted, she stopped.

She kept me pressed against the bed while her thumb and middle finger poked up under each of my armpits to hold me still while her pointer slid back and forth over my chest as if searching.

"CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART BEATING?" she asked in a very quiet voice.

"Yeah." It was thrumping softly into my back.

"I CAN FEEL YOURS." After a moment she made a sound of amusement, and said: "YOU'RE WINNING; YOURS IS GOING FASTER."

As her fingerpad was pressed to the left side of my chest, her voice piqued with curiosity:

“IT’S LIKE…SO POWERFUL, LIKE ‘THUNK, THUNK, THUNK.’” She gave my chest an affectionate squeeze. “A LITTLE ELECTROSHOCK.”

“It’s because of the machine.” A lie; it was the medication, but that was a dangerous subject. She was so rarely sweet and cute in this uncomplicated way I wanted it to last. Of course, it would not last.

“THAT WAS AGES AGO, THOUGH. SURE IT'S NOT 'CAUSE OF ME?"

I snuggled closer into the warmth of her hand, trying to curve my body in along her soft palm, which was like a mattress and electric blanket.

“It’s because of you.”

“YOU’RE JUST SAYING THAT.”

“Okay, I won’t say it. But I feel it.”

Satisfied, her fingertip began to massage my pec, where the tattoo was. Her timbre went down; low murmuring vibrated my scalp.

“ACTUALLY THINK IT’S KINDA HILARIOUS ALL THIS POST-COITAL SWEET TALK WHEN WE JUST PLAYED SOME BASKETBALL WITH YOUR HEAD.”

I stared with confusion at the lines on her palm.

“But…we’re not playing. It’s just regular anal. I mean, as much as I can do.”

She shot back:

“OH, THERE’S NOTHING REGULAR ABOUT IT.”

“Well, what is it to you?”

“IT’S ALL DIGESTIVE TRACT, DARLING. AND THAT’S MY KINK ZONE.”

“But you don’t pretend I’m, like, a dick or something?”

“REMEMBER, I DON’T FANTASIZE.”

“Well, what does your kink have to do with it? If you ate me, I’d be…something totally different by the time I got that far. That’s totally different.”

“OKAY, I FANTASIZE A TINY, TEENSY BIT.”

“You mean you fantasize I’m a wad of crud you digested?!”

“DON'T JUDGE,” the huge tip of a thumb butted itself into my head, and too eagerly jamming itself into my mouth to hush me. “REWIND TO WHAT YOU SAID BEFORE; I MAKE YOUR HEART CRAZY. NOW, CONVERSATION OVER.”

She gave a great, hollering yawn which brought a surge of hot air pummelling the top of my head. Then stretched her t-shirt up and the top of my head was shaded by the great mass of one breast, lifted and quickly dropped, hitting me like a huge sack of flour, trapping my entire body beneath it. As she stretched, the mass rolled back and forth over my spine, smoothing my body flatter, as she shifted and got comfy again.

And that was it; my bedding for the night was the hot, heavy underside of her boob. I began to get a little light headed from the pressure. It didn’t help that her breathing kept pushing down upon me with the expansion of her chest wall. She gave another yawn, crushing me slightly beneath her expanding lungs. The weight lifted a fraction as a long nail burrowed in to identify my shoulder, and giving my ribcage a brief tickle, enough to coax me into squirming to reassure her I was okay.

At this, I was lulled to sleep, if a little against my will.