As the suction overcame her and the darkness of Theresa's body enveloped her, Amy tried to flail as she dropped. But powerful muscles squeezed from all sides and gravity is an un forgiving mistress. The swallowing reflex massaged her lower and lower down the fleshy tube until moments later the tube vanished and opened up into a vast chamber. Falling briefly, Amy landed with a wet squelch and rolled to a stop. She lay there, panting -partially from the crushing weight from all sides, and partially from the excitement.

"Welcome to stop one of the Theresa Tour." Jackson said, his arms spread wide. Above him, the majesty of Theresa's stomach towered. She blinked for a second at the illumination, until she realized that it was Jackson's pocket maglight.

Amy shakily got to her feet. "That was a hell of a ride. Was it this bad for you inside my stomach?"

He shrugged and crossed to her, unsteady on the wobbly, living ground. "You were a lot more gentle. You sipped, she gulped."

Amy stopped short, listening intently. "Oh my god - listen to that!" She ran to one side of the chamber and placed her head directly against the wall of Theresa's stomach. "I can hear her heartbeat."

Then a revelation dawned on her. She sharply jumped back from the wall. "Do you think she can feel us moving around in here?"

"I don't know - could you feel me?"

She looked sheepishly. "Well . . . no, but I was really drunk at the time." she reached out and touched the wall again. "I think I could have swallowed an elephant and not noticed."

"So, shall we look around?"

An evil smile dawned across Amy's face. "Want to find out if she CAN feel us?"

"So, what do you propose?"

Amy leaned against the wall of Theresa's stomach, flicking the lining with her index finger. No response. "I don't know - you have more experience at this than I do."

"Dear, I've only been inside one other person - and she could tell me as much as I could tell her." All further conversation was abruptly cut off as suddenly the stomach went all crazy. Theresa was moving. The tiny pair could feel her leaning backwards, probably settling down on the couch. A few moments later, the landscape settled down again.

Amy picked herself up off the floor, brushing herself off (a largely useless gesture - but more of a dignity saving one). She picked her way through the folds of the stomach, and stopped at the wall. She could just hear the murmur of conversation just outside Theresa.

"Hey! They're talking about us - well, me at least." Amy shoulder charged the stomach wall. "Hey! Yooo hoo! I'm right here! I'm inside your fiancée!" She started hitting the wall with her fists again and again - all to no apparent effect. The same steady heartbeat, the same intervals of rumble as air is sucked into Theresa's lungs.

After a few moments, the micro-cheerleader gave up, and collapsed to the floor. "Well, that was a bust."

Jackson sat up from between two folds in Theresa's flesh. "So how would we know if she did notice us? What? She'd say hello?"

She rolled over on her stomach, looking Jackson straight in the eyes. "Yeah, you're right - forget her - we'll try again later. So, you wanna fuck? "

Jackson blinked at the sudden proposal. Well, that was an unexpected turn of events.

* * * * * * * *

Finishing off the last of the contents, Theresa set the glass of wine down on the table. She slid back on the couch and swung her feet up onto the table, a wave of tiredness sweeping over her. Gary returned from the kitchen where he had just dropped off the bottle of wine.

"So I wonder where Amy has gone. She said she'd meet us." The man said, swirling the goblet of wine in his left hand. "She can be irresponsible, but this takes the biscuit!"

"All her stuff is here, so she cant have gone too - " She paused. A strange look crossed Theresa's face.

"Problem, dear?"

She didn't respond. After a long moment, she shook her head. "It's nothing - just an upset stomach. its gone now."

"You've had a long, hard day - perhaps the wine is getting to you." Gary said, moving to the couch, and gently stroking the back of her head, her long red hair intertwining with his slender fingers.

She looked at the clock. "Yeah you're probably right. I should go home. It's getting late anyway."

"Of course dear - you're nearly twenty-three now, its way past your bed time." He said with a mischievous smile. "Old timers like you can't stay up as late as they used to."

"You jerk." She put her hand on his forehead and playfully shoved him over. "Just for that - no goodnight kiss."

With that, she slipped her shoes on, grabbed here coat and headed out into the hallway and home. . . .

.