Naomi actually forgot about her dinner invitation to Stefan less than an hour after she dropped him off.  She completely compartmentalized her experience with Stefan from her previous life.  She fell back into routines for most of her waking hours, but in her spare moments—without any conscious decision on her part—memories of Joan and Phil struggling in her mouth, and of Stefan watching her, would seep unbidden into her mouth, and she would find herself licking her lips.  Returning to her mundane life required a measurable amount of time, but once the transition was made, she had no memory of her desire or design.  If Rick had noticed Naomi's spaciness, he didn't seem to worry himself over it.

The situation changed when she went back to work on Monday and saw Stefan approach her in the corridor.  Her knees started to buckle, her stomach dropped, and for a moment she thought he had found a way to shrink her without the ring or the charm.  But it was just the vertigo from fully integrating the memories of her decisions.  She slumped against the wall, and Stefan hurried to her side.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded, but she accepted his help in standing straight.  He looked her in the eyes for a moment, then he nodded in the direction of his office.  She nodded again briefly.  He continued on to his office and she followed three paces behind.  She closed the door behind her and sat in the chair across the desk from him.

"Let's call Saturday off," he said.

She had been quite daunted by the changes to her life that she had been contemplating, and the promise of a return to normal seemed comforting for about two seconds.  But then she remembered her hunger, and the thought of never satisfying it again was intolerable.

"No, I need to feel the wriggling in my throat and my belly," she said.  "I didn't get that with Phil."

"You could have someone else, someone less connected."

She shook her head.  "It has to be Rick.  I want him to struggle for me, struggle against me, for the first time in his life."

"And the last," he said.

Naomi's expression didn't change.

Stefan looked at her, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  "Have you figured out your story for Saturday?  It would be ideal if people had reason to believe he was somewhere other than your place."

"No," she admitted, "I haven't given that any thought at all."  She knew that she had been avoiding that particular chore.

"It doesn't have to be this Saturday.  We can wait until you're ready."

"No, it can't wait."  And neither can you, she thought.

"Well then, see if you can't find a way to get him to leave his phone at home."

"He doesn't have one."

"What?"

"He refuses to get a mobile phone.  He says he's paranoid about his location being tracked, but I think he just likes being conspicuously different.  It's very annoying."

"It's also very convenient," said Stefan with an impish grin.  Naomi laughed, and she knew she was committed.

***

The week dragged on its way to Saturday, and Naomi didn't suffer any further misgivings.  The barriers between her thoughts and desires dissolved, and her quiet moments were devoted entirely to her tongue.

Whenever she ran into Stefan, she could read his appetites coiled in the tendons of his wrists and throat.  She caught him staring furtively at her lips the way that other men tried to sneak looks at her breasts.  She thought it was adorable.

Saturday finally arrived and Naomi spent almost two hours at the farmers' market getting choice ingredients.  She stopped short of making her own pasta, but on her way home she visited the Italian deli for artisanal vermicelli and some imported Romano.

After she prepped the sauce and the vegetables, Naomi took a shower.  Rick still hadn't arrived by the time she got dressed, and she was in the middle of doing her makeup when he showed up, letting himself in with the key she had given him.

When he appeared in her makeup mirror, she froze.

"Hey," he said.

She held still another moment, then resumed applying her mascara.

"What?" he said.

She turned around to take in Rick in his T-shirt, cargo shorts, and sneakers.  At least he left the crocs at home, she thought.

"Oh," she said with forced patience.  "I didn't think you'd wear that."

Rick did that thing where he started to roll his eyes but then turned the whole thing into an unjustifiably wide grin, as if she's just told the world's funniest joke.  "I know he's your boss," he said between laughs, "but it's not like we're going to a funeral."

Naomi just smiled affably and turned back to her mirror.

At ten minutes after the appointed hour, the front door intercom chimed, and Naomi buzzed Stefan into the building.  Rick bestirred himself in time to stand in the foyer to greet Stefan after Naomi opened the door.

"Hi, I'm Rick," he said, extending his hand for a token shake.

"Stefan," he replied.  "Nice to meet you."

"Come on in," said Rick, as if it was his apartment.  "Can I get you a beer?"

"That would be great, thanks," Stefan said, handing Naomi a bottle of Barolo.

Rick and Stefan sat in the living room while Naomi started simmering the sauce and put the vegetables in the oven.  Rick had gotten the beers, but she had to get the dish of almonds herself before she could join them.

"So," Rick was saying, "Naomi tells me that her job is substantially more complex now that she's working in Processing."

"Of course," agreed Stefan.  "She makes the first pass on all the cross-claims.  Our reconciliation process depends on her good judgment."

"Cool," said Rick.  "I just know I hated Records."

"Sure, it's pretty tedious," said Stefan.  "But someone as bright as you could have moved up.  I think there's an opening in QC, in fact.  Think it over."

Naomi cringed as Rick went into movie-quote mode.  "Senator," he pronounced, "you can have my answer now, if you like."

Stefan nodded and smiled in recognition, but nothing could arrest Rick's momentum.

"My final offer is this," Rick recited, "nothing.  Not even the fee for the gaming license, which I would appreciate if you would put up personally."

Stefan kept his polite smile.  "Alright, I got it.  I'm sure we'll be safe in Naomi's hands."

The pasta cooked up very quickly, and it was ready by the time Naomi had to put the vegetables on the table to rest and Stefan finished cleaning the used pint glasses.

The sauce was delicious and, as promised, heavily laced with garlic.  Naomi might have cooked the vermicelli a bit too long, but Stefan was effusive in his compliments and Rick grunted his concurrence.  The wine was a perfect complement, but Naomi couldn't give it the attention it deserved tonight and she limited herself to a single glass.

When they all had sampled at least a bite of each dish, Naomi prompted Rick for the detail that she knew Stefan was waiting to hear.  "Rick, tell Stefan about the hilarious prank you pulled on Greg and the others."

To his credit, Rick remembered to wipe his mouth before launching into his story.  "So there's this long-running inside joke between me and my friends about this bear that supposedly lives on the Flathead Lake Trail.  You know where that is?"

"I can't say that I do," replied Stefan.

"It's less than three hours from the city," continued Rick.  "The first time we went out there was back in high school.  The signs at the trailhead said to hang your food in a tree at night so bears won't get in your tent, so that's what we did the first night.  The next morning, we went to get our food and the bag was torn.  Most of the food was still there, but Greg said that all his beef jerky was gone.  No one knew if he actually put any beef jerky in the bag, but over the years the story of the beef-jerky-loving bear of Flathead Lake has just grown."

"I see," said Stefan.

"Anyway, I thought it would be funny to tell Greg I was going back up there finally find the bear, and that they should come meet me tonight."

Naomi jumped in. "I told Rick," she said, "'Just imagine their faces when they find your tent but not you.'"

"But it was my idea to scatter the beef jerky wrappers with the fake blood on them around the tent," said Rick.

"So, you guys went up there already?" asked Stefan.

"Last night," Rick said triumphantly.

"Oh, that's great," said Stefan, smiling at Rick then Naomi then back to Rick.  "I want to hear the whole story when they get back."

"Yeah, we're gonna have a lot of fun with them," said Rick, chortling.

Both Rick and Stefan resumed eating and drinking, but Naomi's already slow pace dropped even more.  She looked at each of them in turn, her familiar safe life and her new scary one.  She already knew which she preferred, but she still wondered if she could hold onto herself.  She remembered staring down Stefan's immense gullet.  She had gotten herself out of there once, but could she do it again?  Then she remembered Phil's helplessness when she pinned him to the roof of her mouth with her tongue.  That was me, she thought, that is me.

"Hey Stefan," she said coquettishly, "I wanna show Rick your magic trick."

Rick had been reaching for his wine glass but now he left it on the table.  "What, like three-card-monty?  I figured all those card tricks out years ago.  Saw a show with Ricky Jay.  He's the best."

"This isn't one of his," said Stefan, removing his ring and handing it to Rick.  Rick twirled the ring between his thumb and forefinger, then clasped it firmly in his fist, testing its solidity.

Naomi had gotten up and was now standing next to Rick's chair.  "Keep the ring in your fist," she told him, "and hold it out towards me."

Rick did as he was told and Naomi forced herself not to look at Stefan as she recited the charm that she had practiced.  Rick's goofy, half-drunk grin never wavered as she tapped the back of his fist six times, "Toon-toon-toon-toon-toon-toon."

Perhaps it was because it was her first time performing the charm, but it seemed to Naomi that Rick dropped out of his T-shirt and into the seat of his cargo pants much quicker than Phil or Joan had shrunk.  Maybe it was faster because she had made him smaller, just over one inch tall.

She first plucked the ring from the pile of clothes and handed it to Stefan, who was watching over his steepled fingers.  Then she uncovered little Rick, who as she expected was still sitting on his ass, refusing to believe what had happened.

Rather than grabbing him she curled her fingers to make a shallow bowl of her hand, which she gently set down next to the tiny (so tiny!) man.  "Come on, Rick," she said softly, "climb on and tell me what you think of the new trick I learned."

He looked up at her towering over him, and she strained to read his miniscule expression.  She heard a squeak, but nothing she could make out.

"Ow, wow," she said, breaking into a giggle.  "Your tiny voice is ridiculous.  Let's bring you closer, into the light."

Another brief squeak as she rolled her palm over and enclosed him in her fist.  She stood up, then pushed her plate back from in front of her seat.  Before she sat down, she held her fist in front of her face and looked at it.  Rick had gone mostly limp, but he was still shifting a bit, sending an electric thrill through her palm and fingers.

Naomi looked at Stefan, who had been watching her intently.  He raised his eyebrows and gave a devilish grin, and then Naomi gave a sharp guffaw as she realized he was imitating her own expression.  With another chuckle, she licked her lips and sat down.

Unlike Rick, Naomi hadn't spilled any of her sauce, so the white tablecloth was pristine when she rolled the inch-tall man out of her palm and onto the table.  He came to rest on his stomach, facing away from her, so she had a good look at his tiny ass.  She delicately brushed it with the tip of her index finger, and while it wasn't as soft as she expected, Rick reflexively writhed under her touch, which delighted her no end.

Rick started crawling away from Naomi, and she slid her fingertip under his hip and gently rolled him onto his back.  She brought her face down over the tiny man, stopping just short of obscuring the overhead light.  His expression of uncomprehending terror reminded Naomi of an exhibition of miniature sculptures she saw once.  The fine details of his tears and eyebrows were fascinating.  What other reactions could she elicit from this thimble-sized boy?

Naomi's tongue finally slid out and aimed its tip at Rick's crotch.  Although she ought to have guessed it before, she recognized that he had been shouting "Naomi!"  She didn't stop, of course, and the tip of her tongue jostled his infinitesimal cock and balls, which were smaller than grains of rice.

Rick started scrambling backward away from her probing tongue and looming mouth, so she brought one hand behind him and pinned each of his tiny arms under her thumb and index finger. His face was almost out of sight underneath her nose, but she could hear his squeals as her warm tongue stirred his tiny cock to life.  He wasn't screaming "No!" the last time I went down on him, she thought to herself, her chuckles washing over the tiny man.

Naomi recognized Rick's squeaks shifting into reflexive bestial grunts, but if he had produced a micro-drop of jism, she couldn't tell.  She pulled back a bit to see his face again, but he turned away and curled up into a ball like a junebug.  She placed her hand over him, flat and palm-down, then lowered it until just her palm was in contact with his body.  As she commenced rolling him around like a dab of cookie dough, she looked over at Stefan to see him tensed with wonder and desire.

I have them both, she thought.  Whatever she did with Rick, Stefan would accept it.  If she asked for the ring back to return Rick to normal, Stefan would assent and tell her the reverse charm.  There is nothing stopping me, she thought.

She lifted her hand off of Rick and sat back in her chair, both hands folded in her lap.  She ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth, then on the outside of her lips, then she sucked on her top incisors, producing a sharp smack.  She knew that she was looking at Rick for the last time.

Shortly after Naomi's palm had stopped molesting him, Rick had slowly uncurled and looked about.  When Naomi had sucked her teeth, he had turned to look up at her with fear.  Now she was slowly leaning forward, her eyes fixed on him, and he struggled to his feet to flee.

As she started to loom over Rick, Naomi said, "We've had a good run, Rick, but I'm moving on.  I'll keep a bit of you inside me wherever I go.  Goodbye."

The tiny Rick had absurdly tried to flee from Naomi's advance, but as she spoke her final words she brought her hand directly over and above him, forming a cage.  She curled her tongue into a semi-straw and she heard his final abbreviated shriek as she slurped him up into her mouth.

The tides of her mouth tossed him around and around and around.  In most dimensions, he was less substantial than a throat lozenge.  Even better, he was struggling for his life, so everywhere he landed he pushed back with his tiny arms and legs.  She was careful not to land him between her jaws, but his flailing limbs tickled her gums, her cheeks, her palate, and of course her mighty tongue.

Imagining the tiny man being thrashed helplessly around the wet cave of her mouth, Naomi couldn't remember ever feeling so smug.  She stood and walked over to where Stefan was sitting, his arms resting atop the table, his legs splayed underneath.  As she neared him, he pulled in his arms and sat back in his chair, swiveling to look up at her.

Like an errant wad of gum, Naomi deposited Rick between her cheek and lower gum.  Glancing at Stefan's crotch, she said, "Take it out.  I want him to see it."  I want to see it too, she thought.

Stefan blinked, but Naomi held his gaze and didn't move until he started to unfasten his pants.  Then she slowly lowered herself onto her knees, keeping her eyes on his.  When he had taken his pants down to his ankles, she looked directly at his feet and removed his pants and briefs entirely.  Then, and only then, did she look at his cock.

Before this evening, Stefan's cock might have been a bit shorter than Rick's.  It was rock hard, of course, erupting from a forest of soft brown hair.  Naomi's pulse quickened as she saw the width of the shaft where it met his sprawling sack.

She fished Rick out of the gully next to her cheek and cradled him on her tongue just past the flexing tip.  She then moved forward, opened her jaws, and extended her tongue to where she hoped both that Rick could see the extent of Stefan's cock and that Stefan could see the outline of Rick's reaction.  She watched as Stefan peered smirking into her mouth and then as his smirk became a predatory grin.  With that, she flipped Rick to the other side of her mouth, again outside her teeth, and bent forward to her task.

Naomi had never really thought of blowjobs as any kind of skill she should try to master.  She performed them on request, and Rick had never seemed to regard them as complicated or subtle.  Recently, however, all kinds of possibilities had been preoccupying her thoughts, and the Internet was surprisingly more helpful on the topic than she would have expected.

She started by cupping his furry ballsack and circling the base of his shaft with her thumb and forefinger.  Then she extended her tongue to the underside of his shaft where it met his sack, and she traced a line with her tongue all the way to the ridge under the head.  Then she raised her own head, opened her jaws wide, and engulfed the top half of Stefan's cock.

Naomi kept her hand on the base of his shaft, pumping in time with her lips when they slid up and down, cradling his balls when she worked on the head.  Once she had established her rhythm, she brought her other hand up and started to gently massage Stefan's taint with her thumb.

Her eyes were closed the entire time, as she tried to imagine what Rick must be experiencing; the whale-sized cock surging in and out of the slick cavern of her mouth, her demonic tongue slathering over every surface, focusing its irresistible strength on coaxing the monster worm to explode.  He was no longer struggling against her gum, but there would be no escaping the cacophony of slurps.

Soon she felt a touch on the underside of her jaw, and she opened her eyes and looked up at Stefan.  His face was flushed and he was breathing rapidly.  He met her eyes and nodded quickly, and she paused to again re-position Rick, this time on the back of her tongue.  The next touch of her lips on the head of Stefan's cock was delicate, but her grip on the base of his shaft and her thumb on his taint were firm, and his thighs went taut as his jism shot forth into Rick and propelled the tiny man down her gullet.  Stefan's load was not so voluminous that she couldn't feel Rick scrabble at the back of her mouth or wriggle against her throat.  She swallowed joyously.

Naomi now had a warm happy lump in her belly, and she milked Stefan for every last drop, imagining she was drowning Rick in a white lake of cum.  Her tongue finally sated, she let her teeth have a gentle bite on Stefan's cock as it withdrew, causing him to flinch.  She stood up and grinned down at the panting man, and she rubbed her stomach.  I have them both, she thought again.

She turned and walked to the kitchen, then returned with a carton of latex gloves.  She pulled on a pair, fished Rick's car keys out of his shorts, then turned back to Stefan.  "Shall we?"

After pulling up his pants, Stefan donned his own pair of gloves and they went down to find Rick's car parked on its usual side street to avoid the tortuous route to her building's visitor parking.  She retrieved her own car and followed Stefan as he drove Rick's car to a trailhead one hour closer than the one for Flathead Lake but which was connected to the latter.  After locking Rick's car, Stefan joined Naomi in her car and handed her Rick's keys.

"Do you know what to do with his clothes?" he asked.

"I do," she replied confidently.

"You'll have to be plausibly frantic.  When Greg and the others get back, you should probably call the police yourself."

"I know."

No sooner had she set the parking brake on her car back at her place than Naomi lunged out of her seat and pressed her mouth into Stefan's.  He was momentarily startled, but he quickly returned her ardor.  Her tongue eagerly explored his lips and teeth and gums.  His tongue was no less probing, and she fancied he could taste a remnant of Rick (and himself) in the corners of her mouth.

When she finally broke off, she gave him a contented smile and said, "Thanks."

He drew a deep breath, gave her an admiring look, nodded, and got out of her car.

After she had gone inside and properly disposed of Rick's effects, Naomi sat back down at the table and remembered how the tiny man had been helpless before her.  She plucked a bit of leftover garlic pork from her plate and dropped it into her mouth.  As she rolled the morsel over and over with her tongue, her hand found its way underneath her dress and into her underwear.  Her legs were no less splayed than Stefan's had been, and the burrowing of her fingers matched the contortions of her tongue in their tenacity.

For as long as she could, she resisted swallowing the niblet of pork, severely eroded by her saliva and her restless tongue.  When she finally gave in and pushed it down her throat to her waiting stomach, her fingers jerked rapidly inside the opening to her canal and she let out a deep growl of joy, which quickly transformed into a resounding belch.