It's Always Time

by Oblimo

  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 s
plintering 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

  Interlude: We Could See What Was Underneath

  Grey pre-dawn light filtered through the green batter caked on the bedroom window. "I think," Dee panted, and rolled over, making the green lake around him slosh. Lying on his back on the floor, the green stuff was deep enough to gurgle around his ears. The citrus-and-sex smell was so pervasive it was part of his olfactory background now. "I think," he tried again. "I think I'm finally done. Maybe."

  "Oh God, oh God," said Galatea, lying next to him.

  Dee goosed the head of his flagging dick, and got that Don’t-Touch-Me! afterglow sensation he always got after orgasm. Well, used to always get. "Yeah, I'm spent. Sorry."

  Galatea, glazed eyes lost to the heavens, was apparently still in communion with a higher power. "Oh God, oh God," she said.

  The waterlogged, empty box of lime Jell-O floated by.

  "Hey," said Dee, reaching out to caress her shoulder. Overestimating how much resistance her weakened surface tension now provided, his hand slipped right through her shoulder and deep into her breast, making her gyrate and mewl and chew her lip. "Oh, shit, sorry," Dee said, withdrawing. A huge gob of nectar gummed his hand. He scraped it off over her chest, making sure every dribble seeped back into her. "Hey," he tried again, "you okay?"

  "So much," Galatea gulped, "you came—I came—you made me cum—so much, so much…"

  "What about the nanomek?" Dee asked, imagining a fifty foot Galatea rampaging through midtown—and promptly filing the image under his mental Things-To-Do list. "What are they going to do with all of my, well, you know…"

  Her laugh was weary. "Cum, Dee," she said, "all your cum. Why can't you say 'cum'?"

  Dee felt his face flush.

  "Dee," she said, exasperated, "you just spent the past four hours fucking me to death, non-fucking-stop.
Don't you dare to pretend you're feeling modest…and lose the shit-eating grin, too."

  "Okay, okay," Dee groused. "Cum. My cum. There. So what's the nanomek going to do with all my cum?"

  Galatea inhaled, and there was an inrush of fluid around Dee as she siphoned some of the lake around them. She shimmied, trying to hold it in, but she hiccupped and it rushed back out. "Still too weak," she sighed. "Look around you Dee. That's cum. My cum. Don't worry about the nanomek. I was burning nanomek like crazy just to keep up with you. Didn't you notice? You didn't just make me wet, you made me boil."

  "Alright," said Dee, laughing. "You made your point. No more false modesty."

  "But—"

  "So are you going to be okay?" Dee interrupted. "Do you need more gelatin, water, semen, or something?"

  Galatea rubbed a hand over her pubis mons. The weak surface tension of her gel could not keep the two parts of her body separate, her hand becoming nothing more than a hand-shaped ripple running over her sex. "The nanomek always holds a little energy and some of your cum—maybe a milliliter or two—in reserve, out of instinct or something like that, to keep me…cohesive, I guess is the best word. I can feel them replicating now." The hand-ripple moved faster. "Mm, I love that feeling; all those little nanogasms."

  "Nano-gasms? You mean nanoscopic orgasm?"

  "Mmm, thousands of 'em." Galatea purred for a moment, and then gasped, "Now millions. You’re a computer nerd, Dee, work it out: One sperm makes one nanomek replication. One replication gives me one nanogasm and produces two more nanomek—at least two, more if you really get 'em turned on—which combined with three more sperm gives me three more nanogasms and produces six more nanomek, which gives me nine more nanogasms and…well, after a few minutes of that I'll be back in shape, and hot and horny as Hell. Literally. And that's been going on inside me all the time since we started screwing, thanks to you and your insane sperm count, over 110 million per, I'd say. And climbing."