293: Boxed Lunch An Extremely Original Chapter Title

on October 5, 2008 in Book 11

In Which Feejee Eats At The Y The Subtitle Is Witty And Unexpected

I held my breath, and it seemed like the world stopped along with me while I waited for Feejee to start… or strike. Pain or pleasure? Probably both… I didn’t know what she would do, exactly, but it seemed likely my body would respond.

Then she began.

Once again, she nuzzled her nose and lips along the sides… I felt a tiny tendril of queasiness snaking up through the bottom of my stomach, but I didn’t focus on it… and it was easy to ignore, as things were waking up all over down below. After all the false starts and stops, I felt primed and ready to go off… like one good whack on the rear would have done it.

For all the physical excitement, though, I felt disconnected, emotionally… again, maybe that had something to do with the on-again, off-again, or maybe it was some niggling doubts about her intentions… whatever it was, though, I wasn’t exactly in the best place, mentally, to stop and analyze it.

She pushed her face against me, moaning and murmuring as she drank in my scent. I whimpered. She pressed her mouth in like she was going to kiss me, and her tongue slipped in. It wasn’t a real penetration… just a kind of timid, darting contact… but a jolt ran up my spine all the same.

Her tongue was so wet and rough and cool, but not in an overwhelming way. Feejee’s body was room temperature, but I was so hot, and hotter by comparison.

“You’re so fleshy down here,” she said, and her lips and breath tickled and teased against my soft folds of flesh. She sucked part of my labia in her mouth and tugged on the flap, gnawing lightly with her teeth. I moaned. I didn’t know what to wish for… more tongue, more tenderness… or for her to go wild like Iona had, biting with rending force on my invulnerable flesh.

I got a little of both. She turned her head around, twisting painfully, and bright starbursts went off behind my eyes. Her tongue slid around the trapped bit of skin and flesh. She sucked hard on it. There were so many different sensations stimulating me at that moment that they all ran into together, one giant ball of pain-pressure-pleasure. She let go and her tongue slipped out again, this time running along the edge of my inner lip.

Feejee was making me aware of myself in ways I usually tried to avoid. I could feel my labia swollen and engorged in a way I’d never noticed before. I could feel myself responding to the touch of her tongue. The back of my mind swam in horror at the thought of what we were doing, but it was in danger of drowning in languorous pleasure as Feejee licked and lapped in the shallows of my femininity.

Okay, maybe the metaphor’s a little strained there, but what did you expect, with a mermaid involved?

My hands came up from the floor and crept inward, seemingly of their own volition. I don’t know exactly what I had meant to do… maybe open myself up, help Feejee get in deeper… but as soon as they got close, she snapped and bit down hard on my finger. I gasped and screamed, and pulled my hands back.

Feejee had this, apparently.

The noises she made were appreciative in a way that was both flattering and arousing, and more than a little frightening. Her deep, throaty “mmms” and “aahs” kept her lips buzzing and her cool breath flowing, adding whole new layers of sensation to the experience while reminding me that ultimately she saw me as a meal waiting to happen.

That probably should have driven me out of my mind with terror. With her crouched between my legs, her lips buzzing against the outer folds of pussy and her tongue slipping in between, it almost sent me over the edge.

She braced her hands against my thighs and pushed them farther apart, spreading me open wider. She buried herself against me, and her tongue found my opening and rolled up from it towards the top of my slit. I shrieked as much in shock as pleasure. Dirty…

But… so good.

Whatever Feejee tasted down there, it seemed to urge her on. She licked more, delving deeper… the further she probed, the more the no-dirty-no litany rose up within me. I found myself scooting downward, trying to get her tongue up higher. My clit was throbbing, aching with a need to be touched that was as insistent as an itch. Feejee’s tongue buried in my channel was… oh, it felt good, but… higher would have felt safer.

I closed my eyes and tried to shut out everything else but the pleasure. It wasn’t dirty, it was… it was almost natural, I told myself. I mean, it wasn’t like Feejee’s mouth would never have, in the course of eating… ugh, that wasn’t something I wanted to think about, either. I locked my legs to keep from flailing and kicking again.

Focus on the pleasure, nothing but the pleasure.

Feejee’s tongue moving in and out, her nose rubbing, her satisfied murmurs… it was all building up in pace, matching the build-up within me. My neck arched, my hands grabbing at the rug. I ached for release, but Feejee seemed to be enjoying the journey. Her tongue had gone as deep as she could get it, and now she sucked and slurped. My pussy was dripping wet, if you’ll pardon my elvish, and she seemed determined to wring every last drop from me that she could.

My body writhed beneath her mouth, bucking and grinding against her face. Her attention was so intense, so strong, so much… but it wasn’t enough. I wanted her to fuck me. I was used to being pounded, being taken forcefully. Her tongue wasn’t doing it. I was panting hard, gasping for breath and clawing at the floor, but something was missing.

“Bite me,” I said. “Bite me, Feejee. Eat me now… eat me hard.”

I don’t know if Feejee said something, or if she just growled. Her tongue was still probing deep inside me, but she moved her mouth and I felt her teeth dragging on my sensitive inner folds. Her tongue slid out, dragging against the top of my cavity… oh, fuck, if she’d been doing that all along… and then her teeth latched on to the upper edge of the opening.

I had a moment to wonder what the hell I’d been thinking to ask for that, and then the whole universe exploded. I couldn’t see or think, I was screaming but I couldn’t hear anything except the rush of blood in my ears. I came buckets, as Amaranth would say, pulling the rug around my upper body like a blanket as my arms contracted fetally around my chest. I gushed. The wet explosion in my nether space set Feejee off into a frenzy of biting, her teeth going bestial.

She bit without discrimination or hesitation, without restraint. I rode it, unabashedly reveling in the feeling. Did that make me a pain slut? I didn’t know or care. It got me off. It did the job. It went on and on, though, and then I realized the pain was outstripping the pleasure. Maybe the part of Feejee that remembered I was invulnerable, that I couldn’t be bitten apart and chewed up, was losing out to the part of her that thought yum, because like Iona before, Feejee had latched on and she wasn’t letting go. She was deep in the throes of frenzy… from the way her body was shuddering, I think she must have been climaxing, too.

In a moment of strong clarity, I realized I’d never, ever, ever complain about a mermaid ignoring my clitoris again. Really. In fact, at that moment, I would have been perfectly fine with nobody ever touching it.

Salvation came with another set of pounding thuds, this time at the door.

“Mack? Mack?” Steff yelled through the closed door. “Are you okay?”

I didn’t have any words in me yet… I was still working on air. I lay there, gasping like a… well, like a fish stranded up on the shore. I rolled over, pulling the rug over my head like a blanket. Damn, I was sore… but I felt euphoric.

“Somebody better open this door,” Steff said.

“Tell her you’re okay,” Feejee whispered, yanking the cover off my head.

I tried to wheeze out the words “just a second”, but I still wasn’t quite there yet.

“You know, I can hear you in there, Feejee,” Steff said.

“Tell her it isn’t me,” Feejee whispered, even more quietly.

“Hey, if you’re fucking her I don’t care,” Steff said. “I just… I wasn’t sure those were happy sounds I was hearing.”

Fine,” I said, pushing the word out. I had meant it to be a sentence, but that’s all I managed. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Feejee put her face in front of mine and mouthed something, probably “tell her it’s not me” or something like that, but my eyes weren’t exactly the most focusy things in the world at the moment. I felt drunk.

“Okay, you guys want your privacy, that’s fine,” Steff said. “But, uh, you seriously might look into some soundproofing if you win the lawsuit lottery or whatever.”

Feejee held her breath, one ear cocked towards the door. If she hoped to hear the sound of Steff walking away, she was probably disappointed… Steff’s half-elven footfalls were pretty hard to hear even when she was skipping.

“Next time you talk to them, you have to say it wasn’t me,” Feejee said finally.

“I’m not lying to Steff,” I said, sitting up and flipping the rug over my legs. I realized it was pointless to cover myself when we were alone together, considering how many times Feejee had incidentally seen me naked and considering what we’d just done, so instead I tried to straighten it out on the floor. “And she was telling the truth: she doesn’t care what anybody does together.”

“Well, I don’t want everyone knowing…”

“Then we shouldn’t be doing this in my room,” I said. “And since I’m not exactly comfortable going off somewhere with you… that’s pretty much the only option.”

“We could go downstairs to Io’s.”

The thought was like ice water down my back. As much as Feejee seemed not to “get it” about people vs. food, she at least seemed to have some sort of moral center about the whole thing, however bizarre her morality was to me. That didn’t excuse anything, but it made me feel a little bit better about her being so close by and among humans. I got the impression Iona was different.

“Feejee… you’re my friend,” I said. “Iona isn’t, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable doing this with her.”

“Oh,” she said. “But we could make a party of it… order a couple of legs from that Mercy’s place, and…”

“I wish I’d never heard of that place, Feejee,” I said.

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” Feejee said. “I saw how you went crazy over a couple handfuls of pulled pork. Just imagine sinking your teeth into a nice, meaty…”

“I don’t want to imagine it!” I said, shutting my eyes and turning away. “People aren’t…”

“Oh, so we’re back to that again, I guess,” Feejee said. I heard a rustling sound and turned around to see that her lower body was scaly again, all the way up her waist. She was frowning.

“Yeah, we are,” I said. I got to my feet, stepping out of the loops of gold chain like I was taking off a skirt. “We never left it. It’s a constant, Feejee… and you’re never going to survive four years among humans if you don’t think about it.”

She didn’t respond, just went to my desk and started putting her jewelry back on.

“Here,” I said, holding out the chain.

“Keep it,” she said, not looking at me. “I told you, it’s a gift.”

“No, I…”

“Can we please go five minutes without arguing about something stupid?” she said, wheeling around to face me. “It’s mine to give, and I’m giving it to you, damn it!”

“Okay, okay,” I said, then held it awkwardly while I figured out what to do with it.

It was such an absurd thing… I’d have to loop it over three or four times to wear it as a necklace. I started to open the desk drawer to stick it inside, then decided the suitcase I kept my personal stuff in would be better. I ducked under the bed, pulled out the case, and put the long, slim chain inside.

It occurred to me that something was missing as I slid the case back under. What was Amaranth doing with my pitchfork again? It would probably be a good idea to get it back from her… on that subject, maybe she’d be a better hiding spot for the gold necklace than under the bed.

Feejee had finished “getting dressed” while I was stowing the necklace. I stood up and turned around to find her staring at me. I imagined she must have been watching me the whole time I was down on my hands and knees. The thought of the mermaid looking at my ass, ogling it not with lust but with actual, literal hunger… well, maybe I’d been hanging out with Steff too much, but it was a little bit of a turn-on.

The knowledge that she’d do it for real in a heartbeat if she thought the circumstances warranted it? The knowledge that she’d eaten others and would likely do so in the future?

Not so much.

“Well, this was fun, Mack,” Feejee said. “A little… weird, in places, but fun.”

“It was… fun,” I agreed. I’d started to say “nice”, but I wasn’t sure that was the applicable word.

“The thing is, I’m not sure I’d be able to do it again… not if it has to be here, and on your terms,” she said. “I… I get that you have rights, kind of, but I feel like I’m giving things up and not getting a lot in return, you know?”

“I know what you mean,” I said. I didn’t agree that this was an accurate assessment of the situation, but I sure knew the feeling.

“It’s like… it’s like you have all these concerns about being eaten, and I have concerns about being seen as a lesbian, and your concerns all trump mine, somehow,” she said.

I could have pointed out that mine were a matter of life and death, but it seemed like she thought hers were, too. If she felt like I was minimizing her objections, pointing out that they weren’t probably wouldn’t be helpful.

“And then you throw in a bunch of bubbly-wubbly philosophy stuff that I don’t like to think about, so… I mean, I’ll see you around the tubs and I’d like to actually hang out more, so I’m not always stuck with the twits next door to you, but… I don’t know if I’m going to want to do this again any time soon.” She shrugged. “Sorry. I just… you make the whole thing more complicated than I think it has to be. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” I said. As hot as the whole thing was, the fact was that hanging out would be more conducive to reinforcing a difference between “people” and “food” than laying my body out like a buffet.

Also, the fact was, despite the pretty ample fucking evidence that I’d been satisfied that was coating my thighs… evidence that Feejee was kind of licking her lips even as she said she wasn’t in a hurry for another go… I was feeling a little empty about the whole thing.

I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it in the heat of the moment, but now that it was over I could feel a serious lack in the scenario. I’d fallen into bed, as it were, with a few people since school had begun, but in each of those cases, there was already something more there. I loved Amaranth and I was comfortable with her. I loved Steff and I was… somewhat turned on by being uncomfortable with her. I had strong feelings for Ian that I wasn’t quite sure how to categorize.

With Feejee… well, she had always struck me as a nice person before I learned more about mermaids, and she’d certainly made a point of reaching out to me, and okay, yes, she was drop-dead gorgeous and she was orally fixated on my body… but I would never dream of waking up next to her.

It was the difference between having sex casually, and casual sex.

“So… um… talk to you later?” Feejee said, tearing her eyes from my passion-slicked thighs and still-swollen parts with a visible effort.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not doing anything much tonight, so I’ll probably take a bath later.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll probably be in there all evening, actually… Rick’s watching some thing over at the fitness center.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you then, then.”

“Okay,” she said, backing towards the door.

“Okay.”

She stopped and peered out the peephole for several seconds before she yanked the door open, slipped out, and pulled it shut behind her, and then she was gone.

That was it. My first experience getting oral… albeit under extremely unusual circumstances, but then that was pretty normal for me. It hadn’t been an unmitigated disaster. It had given me some things to think about, and maybe try.

It hadn’t been a terrible first time, but I found myself looking forward to trying to improve on it.


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One Response to “293: Boxed Lunch An Extremely Original Chapter Title”

  1. pedestrian says:

    That is the difficult part of any sexual encounter.

    Is it going to be a one time, wham, bam, I’m gone ma’am?
    A casual acquaintances-with-benefits when there is no one else available we prefer?
    A friends-with-benefits as your schedules allow?

    Or are you going to put in the effort, the concentration on negotiating one anothers needs and wants and preferences. With the intention of achieving a consensual agreement?

    Current score: 0