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Dee woke on his waterbed. His cottony mouth tasted of rotgut tequila, his eyes gummy with sleep. He felt coated in a rind of sweat. Or was it sweat? "Damn waterbed leaking again," he groaned, rolling onto his stomach, the mattress rocking in mushy waves.

 

"You don't have a waterbed, Dee," someone said.

 

He smeared the sleep away from his eyes. It was green.

 

His chin pressed into the mouth of a long valley between two green, translucent, perfectly proportionate but utterly titanic breasts. He pushed down with his palms to lift his head to speak—"Wha—" but rather than support his hands, the supple green material beneath him gave inward and the tits rolled forward, the valley of cleavage becoming a warming, hugging cave, so instead he just went, "Mmf!"

 

The earth shook; a marshmallow-quake. The towering breasts rolled back he heard a few peals of loud, girlish laughter before the green swells rushed back in to nuzzle his head again. Thinking fast—fast for him, at any rate—Dee laid stock still until the laughter and seismic cleavage activity died down. He opened his arms and legs wide to spread his weight over as much of the pliant surface as possible, and gently scooted and spider-walked away from the snuggle-trap. His dick slid down the cool, smooching surface and was iron-stiff in moments, dimpling but not breaching the surface tension of the slick stuff.

 

"Oh, that's good," said the voice. "I love to feel your cock get hard." His searching foot found another, smaller, gentler swell, and suddenly sunk into steamy, slurry folds. The voice cried out in alarmed delight. "O-oh, yeah! And all this time I thought you were obsessed with foreplay."

 

"Galatea?" Dee said.

 

"No, the Queen of England," said Galatea, "who the fuck else would it be? Are you fooling around with another giant Jell-O girl behind my back? I can see through my back, you know, so I wouldn't recommend it. I plan on being one possessive, jealous bitch. That dick is Mine."

 

Dee pulled his foot out of Galatea's sex. Her pussy was very reluctant to let it go, so he had to work it back and forth a bit to slide it free, prompting a few squeals of "Ooh!" followed by a forlorn "Aw!" like a naughty schoolgirl having her candy taken away by a headmistress.

 

Dee swung his legs around and padded his palms up to sit astraddle a proportionately wasp-narrow waist that was nevertheless over three feet wide. "What the Hell happened to you?"

 

They were still in his bedroom. His poor mattress, a few bedsprings poking out and looking tie-dyed with green paint, stood on its side against the door. A couple of electric, oscillating fans had been set up in a futile attempt to blow-dry it. A few large, lumpy garbage bags were littered about. A cloudy night sky darkened the window. Galatea sprawled on her back on the floor, nearly thrice as tall as Dee himself, her head reclining up against the wall beneath a destroyed X-Men poster. A large, arcing X crossed the wide curve above her left breast. "I think I went a little crazy for a while there," she said, her smile sad. "Oh, Dee, I'm so sorry."

 

Dee sat silent for a minute. "Don't be," he finally decided. "You went crazy for me."

 

Her head bobbed in agreement, teary-eyed but enthused. Dee rode the aftershocks of her vigorous nodding for a moment. He said, "Do you know why? Will it happen again?"

 

"No," she sniffled, "I don't think it will happen again. I'm different now. But why did it happen?" The darkling blush flashed up her throat. "Well, you know. You know how much I like you, well…" The gel-flesh of Galatea's broad belly reached up, wrapped and wriggled tight around Dee's erect dick, and released, making him buck and yelp. "…Solid."

 

"Yeah," Dee panted.

 

"And when you were fucking me," Galatea said, her blush burning and her words coming out in a heated rush, "really fucking me, and you were so strong and so solid and, oh, God, really riding me and I thought I would just melt away into nothing and then you came inside me and then you were suddenly so wet and so soft but still so strong and it felt so good that I just couldn't stand it and I, well, I went mad."

 

Galatea goggled at him, her mouth quivering and her hands fluttering about her throat until Dee whispered, "That's the hottest thing I've ever heard in my entire fucking life," and she burst into relieved laughter.

 

Dee hugged his legs to her waist to keep from being bounced off. Galatea purred her appreciation. "Dee, you're so…" Her blush deepened, and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "God," she said, mortified, "I have such a bad solid-boy fetish." She clapped her hands over her mouth, her gaze swiveled back to Dee in terror. "Oh-my-God-I-can't-believe-I-said-it," she squeaked through her fingers, her blush so fierce she was black as night from the chest up.

 

Dee stared. "You have a solid-boy fetish?" he asked, his voice monotone.

 

Galatea buried her face in her hands, as only she could, surfaces blurring and melding until only a few spikes of hair stuck out distinct. "Yes," emerged a muffled cry, although Dee could see nothing that could produce the sound. "Yes! Dee, I love you, and I know you love me, but I've also got this, this thing for you. Do you know what I mean?"

 

Dee's face was almost as blank as hers. "I think I do."

 

She pulled her hands out of her face. "Dee," she pled, "don't look at me like that, like I'm some sort of pervert or something … Dee? Dee? What are you laughing at? What's so fucking funny?"

 

Dee couldn't draw enough breath to answer. He had gone beet-red, braying and honking with laughter, slipping sideways like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

 

Galatea looked furious, her neck tilting and stretching at impossible angles to follow his decline. "You jackass. I checked your web browser history and I've seen the things in your 'My Pictures' folder on your computer. I know you know what I mean."

 

Dee's face blanked over for a second belong spluttering back into hysterics, and this time Galatea could not help but join him, until his slow fall reached its apogee and he cracked his head on one of the garbage bags on the floor.

 

"Dee! You okay?"

 

"Yeah," Dee said, standing up beside her teacup-sized outie bellybutton, head spinning. "Ow, wow. What's in those?"

 

"Ice," Galatea said pointing at her abdomen, "from the ice machine in the common room. Well, a couple of common rooms from around the complex. I wanted a lot."

 

Dee followed her finger and saw that she was lying atop of several more garbage bags of ice. "How did you get it without being seen?" he asked.

 

"You'd be surprised how easily elastic, divisible, translucent green girls can sneak around at night," she answered. "That's how I got the absinthe, in case you were wondering. The goth chick three doors down brews it in her bathtub. Sorry about the alcohol poisoning, by the way."

 

Dee nodded. "I gotcha. Yeah, I know she does. And that's okay. But why ice?"

 

Galatea said, "Well, we're going to fuck in a few minutes…"

 

"We are?"

 

"…Count on it." She sneered, knife-toothed. "We only fucked once, remember? And that was hours ago, bright boy. I am so ripe for plucking I am going to pluck you until your plucking eyes plop out, you got that?"

 

"Did you hear me say no, or even complain?" Dee protested.

 

"Sorry." She softened into herself again.

 

No, Dee thought. She is both of them, Venus and the succubus. And the green fairy, too, and who knows who else. Good thing I want them all. "So, why the ice?"

 

"Well, there's so much of me right now, and all of me wants a go at you at once — it's not like I can divide a few times and convince a couple of me that they're not super-horny right now. I'm not built like normal girls. I don't just have one G-spot that I can put in a box. When it comes to you, I'm all G-spot. Hey, a pun! You follow?"

 

"A little," Dee said, although he thought that her Internet fetish porn-based sex education had given her a pretty skewed view of "normal girls." And guys, for that matter. Holy shit, I'm still hard. What's up with that?

 

"Whatever," Galatea shrugged, "as long as we fuck. Soon. Like, now. Anyway, I couldn't find any SCUBA gear or re-breathers in this damn place—don't laugh, I looked everywhere—so the next best thing is to chill me down so all of me can fuck you at once without, like, drowning you to death and stuff."

 

"Very considerate," said Dee, turning at a thumping noise.

 

Someone was trying to open the bedroom door and it bumped against the mattress. "Let me in -thump-," said Galatea's voice from the hallway, "I've got more ice -thump-. Hey, -thump- did you do this on purpose?" -Thump!- He turned back to Galatea, or the Galatea in the room at least. Her grin was wide and nervous, head kinked to one side, a single large drop of green sweat running down her hair. "Eh-heh," she said.

 

-Thump- "Dee's awake in there, isn't he!? -Thump!- You let me in right now, you bitch!" -Thump!-

 

"Let her in," Dee sighed, stepping aside, "and then let her in, if you know what I mean. You can fuck me all you want; I'll just keep coming back for more." He glared at his physiologically-defiant, Internet porn-complaint dick. "Apparently. But, as usual, a few questions first."

 

"Yes!" Galatea hissed, drumming her feet and fists on the floor, the naughty schoolgirl gleeful again. She sat up, and dragged the mattress down on its side, clearing the door. The door flew open. "He says we can fuck him all we wah—ant," she sang into the hallway.

 

A shorter Galatea — nine feet tall at the most — came skipping into the suddenly very crowded bedroom. Four of her arms carried smallish bags of ice, the remaining two arms clapping empty hands. "It's not as if he has a choy—oice," the short Galatea replied in identical sing-song.

 

"It's more fun when he says 'Yes,'" the taller Galatea scolded.

 

"But it's the very bestest if he looks scared when he says it," the shorter Galatea pointed out. "Did he look scared?"

 

The two jade goddesses fixed their burning gazes on Dee, who was slowly backing away. "As scared as he looks now," said the taller Galatea. She arched her back, her tits slamming back and forth.

 

"Awesome!" said the shorter, six-armed Galatea, tipping the bags of ice, one by one, onto the taller Galatea's chest. The ice cubes bounced about a bit on those huge breasts before being sucked down straight through the skin. "I can't wait to remember it!"

 

"Wow," Dee boggled.

 

"So eloquent too," the taller Galatea added.

 

"Shut up and kiss me," the shorter Galatea said, kneeling by the taller Galatea's neck. Four of her hands mauled the taller Galatea's tits, the remaining pair wrenching the two green girls' heads together into a sloppy, French lip-lock.

 

"Wow," Dee said again, as the kiss got sloppier. "Oh, fuck, wow." The two green girls, orgiastic, mashed and ground and smooshed themselves together, curves bulging and merging, until one combinant Galatea luxuriated on the floor, smoothing herself out into her preferred, Dee-fucking form. "I'm canceling my broadband account," said Dee. "I don't need the Internet any more."

 

"Oh, I dunno," Galatea murmured. A single, strong wave rolled through her as she performed a liquid about-face, rocking up from reclining on her back with her head against the far wall to resting on her tummy and facing the near wall, feet kicked up in the air, forearms pressed up under plumping breasts. Her color deepened with the luster of green gold. A stab of hair extended into a tendril to tap on the media server's keyboard. A lush, droning bass and sensuous beat started up. "I think it's a blast."

 

"That thing still works?" Dee asked, incredulous.

 

"Mm?" Galatea cupped a cherubic cheek with her palm and tipped her head toward Dee, bumping her ankles together, her dreamy gaze roaming up and down his wiry, naked frame. From the speakers, someone crooned about the blood of Eden, but Dee felt transfixed by her gem-fire eyes and could not pay much attention.

 

"I," Dee started. "I'd've thought all my computer stuff would've fried in all the, you know, excitement."

 

Galatea ran a chilled finger serpentine down Dee's chest, making him shiver. "Dee, I just wanted to claim you, devour you whole, to make you feel the way you'd made me feel. To lock you away deep inside me and keep you cumming and cumming until there was nothing left of you." Her frozen fingertip snaked down his abdomen, traced up the shaft of his cock and batted gently on its head. "But I didn't want to piss you off. I kept your boy-toys safe." The tendril of hair drifted down onto the surge protector, her ice-cold finger pressed into the slit of his dick. "Besides, I'm not conductive."

 

A brief, weak electric current shot through her finger and Dee yawped. "Unless I want to be," Galatea added, her eyes following his heaving chest, stroking his cock again. "Any more questions?"

 

"Yes," Dee gulped, stepping back, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

 

Galatea sighed, pattered on her forearms to face him square. Resting on her stomach, arms propped under her breasts, she lightly pressed her head against him, nose-to-nose, her tits squeezing around his elbows. Icy, citrus-perfumed breath washed over him. "You want to question this?" she clucked.

 

Dee stood on tip-toe to kiss her forehead, lips sticking in the cold. "No, but I want to understand how such an incredible thing is happening to me, even if only just a little."

 

"Guys never accept that some things just happen, do they?" Galatea's chilly lips bussed Dee's belly as she spoke. "Go on, then, but make it quick. I'm warming up fast."

 

"How come there's so much of you right now? What happened to the three Ds?"

 

"The three Ds are what happened. The nanomek needs the three Ds to replicate, and I burn the nanomek to do stuff like, well, this." Galatea's hand shot out behind him. "God," she groaned, "I love this ass."

 

Her palm easily trapped both cheeks. Her neck arched up and her hand pushed in, and Galatea drove Dee's cock deep between her tits. Dee grabbed her about the shoulders as his knees buckled. Her cleavage was tight, frosty, and sleek against him. With agonizing deliberation, the firm icy grip on his ass began to pump his dick in and up then down and out. All Dee could do was wrap his trembling arms around her tree-trunk neck, bury his head in her hair, and endure the most outrageous tit-fuck in history.

 

She turned her head into his and squashed her gelid lips around his ear. "And when you came inside me," she murmured, never stopping her slow pumping, "so deep inside me, it didn't just drive me crazy, it drove them crazy and they just drove me more crazy. Think of it, Dee," she breathed, pumping him in with every pause. "Millions of me. Billions of me. Crying out for you. Wanting you more. And more. And more."

 

Dee felt the first lightening-strike of an impending, monstrous orgasm, but Galatea just pulled him out and plunked him down on his butt. Spasms of denied release shocked over him. "Well," Galatea puffed, scraping her hands together as if rubbing away chalk dust. "I'm glad we took this time to chat. Do you have any more questions, or shall we fuck now?"

 

Dee snarled and punched the polished hardwood floor. It splintered into fissures around his fist. He blinked, inspecting his knuckles. They weren't even bruised.

 

"That's my boy," said Galatea.

 

Dee grimaced and said nothing. The song on the media server looped. The breathy crooning accompanied by a penetrating backbeat started up again.

 

Galatea marveled at him, eyes dancing. "I know a secret."

 

She rocked forward, chin resting on the floor a few inches away. Frigid air prickled his bare legs. "Dee, when you get turned on," she breathed, biting the pad of her thumb, "it's like witnessing the wrath of a god. Don't look at me like that, I'm totally serious. Nothing compares to the feel of you cumming inside me but just seeing you like this, watching that power possess you, it just, it just makes me so wet."

 

Dee's senses swam in the freezing perfume pouring off her body and from her colossal, wanton mouth.

 

"But do you know how I can tell when you're really turned on?" She rolled supine, filling his lap with sheaves of icicled hair that writhed, rustled and wrapped around him, soft as velvet, with a hunger of their own. Her upturned gaze feasted on him. "That I've got you so riled and so ready that you're gunna just pound and rip and, God, just fuck me apart into itty bitty pieces…?"

 

Icicles of silk raced up his back, soothing away the knots in his neck, the fever upon his brow, the ache of his grinding jaw and all the tension that had gathered so slowly Dee had not known it had been there until it was gone, and he whispered, "Galatea."

 

"… You get really, really quiet," she finished, and drew him down.

 

Her kisses were honeyed and tart and everywhere at once, muzzling his neck, scraping over his chin, tickling his ears and filling his mouth with a spicy, icy tongue more delectable than sherbet. "I'll kiss you," she said, and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him.

 

The ice tendrils eased him up and back and down recumbent onto the floor. Galatea pulsed from supine on her back to prone on her tummy, not wasting any time on anything as mundane as actually rolling over. Her face towered above him, her hair lanced down and slithering with a carnal will over his chest and around his arms and down his thighs. "I'll drink you," she said, and nestled her chin into his lap and wrapped a hand around his cock.

 

The span of her hand was wide enough to swallow up his entire manhood. Galatea mushed the gel of her fist deep around Dee's pubis and the swollen head of his dick, weeping precum, pushed its way into the arctic air. Her mouth parted in a lewd O. She lolled her lips over his cock head, smearing precum across and around like lipstick, tugging and pumping his shaft. "I'll drink you," she whimpered, smearing and tugging and pumping. "I'll drink you."

 

Dee's orgasm was almost unbearable. He cried out as his cock painted Galatea's face with his cum. His flailing arms ripped free of Galatea's medusa embrace and rammed her head down onto his dick where she just moaned and suckled and drank. The flow of cum ebbed. Galatea pulled her spunk-plastered face free. "I'll eat you," she said, rolling her fingers full of Dee's essence and pushing them deep into her mouth, purring at the taste.

 

She crawled backward on all fours, cross-eyed with delirious lust. "I'll eat you," she panted, padding down to Dee's feet that still twitched with orgasm-afterglow.

 

"I'll eat you!" she sobbed, tears of madness and pleasure streaming from her eyes.

 

She swallowed his legs.

 

 

---

 

 

 

It started with Dee's toes. Galatea's gelid lips pressed tight around them and began their languorous, sliding descent. As his feet sank in up to the arches, Galatea's sherbet tongue lashed away at them, making Dee gasp and wriggle. Galatea's body absorbed the shock of his movement with a slight ripple through her jelled flesh and the ingestion continued unabated. Dee's feet grew numb with cold.

 

When her lips crept down and then up and around his heels, his toes plunged into a furnace. Galatea's hungry, clenching throat was ablaze and nectarous with her passion. It felt exquisite, but something compelled Dee to give his feet a timid tug. The glue of her melting inner gel held his feet fast, like a boot stuck in a morass of boiling mud.

 

Her lips slinking up his ankles, the sudden passage from numbing cold to flaring heat became a perpetual full body system-shock as she took him into her deepening warmth. The groundswell of her massive tits beneath her throat ratcheted his descent into an inclining ascent. When his calves disappeared into Galatea's mouth Dee grew dizzy; when she swallowed his knees Dee's cock grew ramrod hard. Galatea reached out for it with both hands, now runny and sticky with heat. "Mmmrrriiiine," she mouthed around Dee's thighs, pumping and squishing at his manhood.

 

Dee fought against the pressure of yet another approaching orgasm, trying to keep his wits about him, as Galatea worked expertly on his dick with her hands while encroaching upon it ever closer with her mouth. Her freezing lips slurped in his balls and her mouth yawned wide to swallow his ass, his dick, his hips, and even her own pumping hands. The searing heat around his legs, the sticky warm pulsing of her hands and the inhuman sucking of her frozen mouth fried every sensuality circuit in his brain and sent cum rocketing down her throat.

 

She laid still, squooshing out the last ropes and dregs of spunk from his deflating cock. The room stopped spinning, and for a moment Dee thought it was over. He rubbed his palms over his eyes and sighed, "Oh, God, that was awesome."

 

But then he looked into Galatea's eyes and did not see Galatea looking back. Three hauntingly familiar giggles tickled his thighs: "Ah-hah, ah-hum, hm-mm."

 

Uh-oh.

 

A few sudden swallows and his bellybutton slipped past her lips, her breasts forcing him up at nearly a forty five degree angle. Somehow, within the rising heat of her viscid body, the remorseless, expert pumping of his dick began again, as if she an internal pair—Gyah! Make that several pairs, Dee thought—of hands, desperate, as if their lives depended on it, to get him off. And they were succeeding. Her lips worried at the low curve of his ribcage when his third orgasm in almost as many minutes began to build. A cloudy memory rose in his pleasure-dimmed mind: "…lock you away deep inside me and keep you cumming and cumming until there was nothing left of you…"

 

He crashed over into another sizzling release of cum as Galatea's stretched lips vacuum-locked around his nipples, and this time the inner hands working at his cock (their number, skill, and ferocity seeming to rise exponentially with each orgasm) never stopped or faltered and somehow his overwhelmed manhood simply stood proud and took it and began to immediately build up to orgasm again.

 

["…keep you cumming and cumming until there was nothing left of you…"]

 

As Galatea's mouth encroached upon his armpits, Dee thought, Hell, we all have to die some day, right? His conscience, having moved on to better prospects, said nothing in reply.

 

["…keep you cumming and cumming until there was nothing left…"]

 

Dee turned his bleary eyes to his left, rolling them just a bit as another shattering orgasm was wrenched from him, to watch Galatea tuck his left arm into her mouth, the curve of her jelled right breast bulging out wide beneath their combined weight. If any man, any sane man, could get to pick the way he would die, this would be it, right?

 

["…keep you cumming and cumming…"]

 

He turned his head to his right, his third consecutive orgasm building, to watch Galatea gently reach out her left hand to bring his remaining arm close to her mouth.

 

["…cumming and cum—"]

 

His train of thought and stampede to ejaculation skipped and scratched like a stereo needle dragged down a vinyl record. Looking to his right, he could see her squashed left breast. It bore a curving X. His mind raged with self-loathing and shame. She didn't want this. He had known she didn't want this. How could he have even considered possibly allowing it to happen?

 

"It's," Dee hissed, wrenching his right arm free. "Not." He brought his arm up in a high arc, hand clenched in a fist. "Time!" He brought his fist hurtling toward the floor while kicking upward with all his might.

 

Dee heard a terrible clatter of splintering wood and something like a water balloon bursting (a sound that drove all rage away and filled him with sorrow and dread) and he flew backward, head over heels, before tumbling face-down onto the floor. A blotchy coating of green gunk incased him. It felt lifeless, cooling to room temperature. "Galatea! Galatea, are you alright?" he said, afraid to look. "Please, God, no. Let her be okay. Galatea, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

 

Silence, then: "Dee?"

 

He rolled onto his back. A plate-sized crater of shattered wood scarred the floor. His fist had punched straight through the hardwood to crack one of the struts below. Galatea tiptoed into his field of vision, wringing her hands. A deep rent ran the length of her chest, mint jelly gouged with a hot spoon. As he watched, the wound began to well and seal. The features of her face were indistinct but slowly reforming. "You…didn't want it?" she asked, sounding befuddled.

 

"I did want it." He sat up, reaching out to still her twisting hands. "That's why I let it happen for too long. It's my fault, Galatea, not yours. If you decide not to forgive me, I'll understand."

 

Her face slowly came into focus, eyes closed. It did not look the same. "You…fought back?"

 

"I had to," Dee said. "I realized I couldn't bear to be so, so selfish. I wanted to be with you."

 

The wound in her chest smoothed over and vanished. There was no X on her breast. No longer wearing the cherubic mask of a girl-child, the elegant lines of her face now traced the visage of a woman grown. Her brow crinkled in confusion, eyes still shut, and Dee's heart ached for the beauty of it. "But you…refused me," she said.

 

"No," Dee said, standing up. She was only a few feet taller than him now. "Not now, not ever. Galatea, look at me, please."

 

She did not open her eyes. "I don't understand."

 

How could he explain it? "It's just. I just. I couldn't." Tears burned his cheeks. "I didn't want to leave you all alone, that's all. I'm sorry."

 

She turned her back to him and stepped away. She squeezed a fist to her chest, as if trying to hold back a sob or a scream. She swept out her other arm, hand curled in a downward claw. Her fingers tapered into points, lancing down at odd angles to puncture the remaining bags of ice. A pulsation within her gel signaled an exchange of heat conducting down her fingers and using the ice like a heat-sink. She pivoted to face him, her burning, dark emerald gaze as incandescent as a full Moon. "That's the hottest thing I've ever heard in my entire fucking life," she said, scooping a curling X so deep into the rise of her left breast it bled inner nectar. "If we don't make love, right now, I'll probably go nuclear and take out the whole damn neighborhood with me. It's time."

 

Steam screamed from the ice.

 

"It's time," Dee agreed, wiping some tears away. "But let's skip the kiss me/drink me/eat me routine for now. It's hot as Hell, but it hasn't worked out so well so far."

 

Galatea leaned close, sure and quick, and tugged his hand away from his face. "One bit did work really well for me, though," she said, pushing his tear-stained fingers to her lips, her mouth cool but not cold. "Mm."

 

Dee reached around her back with his other arm and held her close, pressing his forehead in into the hollow below her arm, the roundness of her breast soothing against his cheek. "I love you," he sighed.

 

Galatea melted into his embrace, kissed away his remaining tears, and moaned her need into his mouth. Dee broke the kiss to glance down. "I think Mine loves you too," he said.

 

"Shut up," she breathed, pushing on his shoulders, "and lie down. Just lie down."

 

Dee bent at the knee, his tight hug sliding to nestle around her waist, planting a row of lightning-quick kisses down her side as he went. "Dee, please," she said, pushing at his shoulders as he orbited her waist with kisses, droplets of green honey pattering down from her hair and lips. "Just lie down."

 

But Dee and his errant mouth had not yet found what it sought. "Dee, please," Galatea begged, "just lie dow–Wow, oh, just don't stop!"

 

He found it, and settled in for a while. Galatea was still so tall Dee had to sit up on his knees and grab handfuls of her ass to tongue her sex. Her mulled honey ran down his throat and rained down from above. Radiant heat blossomed around his tongue and chin. The air grew redolent with the dizzying citrus-and-sex fragrance of Galatea's pussy. She clapped her hands down over his and plunged Dee's fingers deep into the juicy gel of her ass. "Rip me," she growled, "rake me."

 

Dee clawed and cleaved through the rich syrup of her innermost flesh, his oral assault on her sex unrelenting. Fat gobbets of her fluid rolled down his elbows and chest. Dee became so lost in the moment he bit down hard on his own finger when it came through her oozy sex from the other side. Galatea gurgled once—"Oh, God, Dee"—a sound like a siphoning drain. Her knees buckled, puddled, and then her whole body cascaded down over him.

 

For a moment Dee was sliding on his back across the floor, awash with thick, formless green goo, but a six foot tall version of Galatea swirled into solidity above him and slammed her mouth down onto his. More green gel swooped under and around Dee like a living cape, hugging him tight to Galatea's voluptuous curves. "Enough fucking foreplay," Galatea cried. "Take me! Now!"

 

Galatea grabbed Dee's hard cock with an unseen hand and impaled herself upon it. "Yes!" Galatea exulted, grinding atop him. "Yes! Thank you, God! Yes! More! Mo—Wha? Oh, shit!"

 

In a single, sinuous motion, Dee pushed off the floor with his arms and kicked up with his feet, setting a sine wave rollicking through her syrupy substance. He rode the wave like a master bodysurfer, flipped her over, and rolled on top of her. Galatea swiveled her head left and right, eyes wide. "What? How did—what?"

 

The ferocity of Dee's desire closed his throat, but he managed to grunt as he rode her, watching her shock and excitement build and build with each thrust: "I was…never…drowning…learning…how to… swim."

 

Galatea's screams echoed over the entire apartment complex and set car alarms squealing for miles around.

 

 

When I'm swimming in your ocean Floating aloft on creams And scented lotions I can get pretty side-tracked I hope you'll understand.   —Crash Test Dummies, Swimming in Your Ocean

 

 

 

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