by Oblimo
She cupped his hands together, palms up, and positioned them level with his chest. "Hold them just like that," she said, stepping back. He felt supplicant and embarrassed until she bent down, kissed his fingertips, and blew cool, citrus-perfumed air over his palms. His hands started to tingle and the citrus bouquet grew very strong. Galatea stepped back, eyes shining.
His hands had been filled with creamy pale jade foam. "Wow," Dee said.
"How does it smell?" Galatea asked, biting her thumb.
Dee shut his eyes to concentrate on the aroma. "Soothing. An orchard of citrus trees in blossom." He smiled. "I bet this is what really expensive spas smell like."
Dee felt her step close and push his hands up onto his chest. "How does it feel?" she cooed, moving his hands over his skin gentle arcs, spreading the stuff around, before pulling his hands away again.
"Oh, God," Dee said, eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving. "Uh. Tingly—no, stupid word, not strong enough. Electric. Searing. But gentle, all at once. Like—" He gasped as he felt her finger trace a thread of the foam down his abdomen. "Like dozens of nibbling little lightening kisses. No. Hundreds. Thousands. I, I can’t describe—"
"Shh," whispered Galatea, gathering up his hands. "Those," she said, kissing his fingertips again, "are nanogasms."
She blew cool, citrus-perfumed air over his palms. They started to tingle again. She pushed his hands back toward him, this time massaging the sensuous foam in his stomach. He nearly doubled over from the carnal thrill it drove into him. He still could not open his eyes. "You're…you're not covering me in my own, uh…"
"No," Galatea purred. He heard her exhale through puckered lips for a long moment. "I'm covering you…" she said, and a pair of hands smeared foam down his thighs. Dee groaned and fell to his knees. While her hands worked their creamy way toward his groin, another pair of hands started slathering even more across his back, making him arch and bark, senses running wild. "…In me."
Galatea was working foam into his hair and down his neck when Dee cried, "I can't—"
"Yes you can."
"No, I can't take it!" He fell to all fours as a dozen foamy hands rove over his feet, his arms, his ass. For some reason they really liked playing with his ass.
"Yes you can!" Galatea smoothed the foam gently around his face. "You're about to experience what the female orgasm feels like, Dee." Her many hands gently pushed him down and rolled him onto his back. "That's all." She massaged it deep into his calves, the pits under his arms, and between his toes. "If any man could take it, it would be you. You can do it. I love you. I love you. Okay. It's time. Here we go."
Galatea blew cool, citrus-perfumed air over his dick, and Dee flew mad.
Dee flailed, every muscle jittery with wave after wave of tension and release, his cream-covered body slapping and slopping the floor with foam. Galatea coddled his cock, kneading the jade elixir deep into his very most sensitive skin. "What does it feel like, Dee?" she asked, and blew, heaping his lap with more sizzling foam. She rolled and folded it over his balls, her hands slipping up his shaft and down into the crack of his ass. Dee could only groan. "Talk to me, baby," she said, blowing and working in more cream, "even just a little. Tell me how it feels," she said, and blew.
"Flying," he managed, "flying. It really is just like…"
Dee could say no more for a few minutes, as she blew and salved every inch of him with more and more cream. "It's," he said, his eyes flickering open. "It's not stopping."
Galatea lay down and cuddled up against his side, sleeking herself with foam. "It hasn't happened yet," she said, her chin on his shoulder. "You're still plateauing, baby."
"Oh my God," Dee said, his laughter warm. "How long does it last?"
"That depends." Galatea's hand skated down his stomach and settled over his raging dick. "How long do ya wannit?"
"I don't think I can take much more."
"Mm." Galatea slid atop him, her breasts and big belly sandwiched in cream against his chest, her knee pushing his slippery erection into his stomach. "You got it, baby," she said, spreading her legs over him. She scooted down and guided him into her, frictionless as silk.
Galatea glided on a thick layer of cream. "Cum in me," she said, humping faster, "cum in me, baby." Each upstroke slicked a heavy breast across his face, a cream-covered nipple popping in and out of his mouth. "Cum for momma. Come on. That's it. Yeah, you're doing it." She pivoted against him, sitting up. "I can feel it coming."
She grabbed his hands and clamped them on her tits. "Let is happen, baby, there's nothing you can do." She rocked her hips in topsy-turvy circles, keeping pace with Dee's racing pulse. "Momma's gunna make you cum. Momma loves to make her baby cum. Momma always—ah." Dee's violent shaking suddenly stopped.
"Ooh, good baby," Galatea said. "Baby's giving so much cum to mommy." She let his hands fall to the floor where they pawed feebly at the tile. "Baby's got so much cum for mommy." Her rocking slowed, lingering on each arching upstroke. "Yes. There. Baby's filling momma up to bursting. Such a—mm— good baby," she said, hugging her round tummy. Her downward thrusts grew faster, harder, each agonizing upstroke lasting longer and longer.
"But momma wants more … Nuh-uh," Galatea fussed, shaking her head, treating Dee's dick like a piston buried deep within her pumping hips. "Stay hard for mommy. Momma knows her baby has more. Baby has much more cum to give, and momma wants it all. Momma's gunna take it all, there isn't anything baby can do to stop it. Oh, baby's gotten so hard again. Oh, oh! Baby's cumming so fast! Mm, and so much more than last time, too. Was baby holding back from mommy? I bet he was. Naughty baby. Is baby holding back now? I bet he is. Oh, look, baby's so tired he can barely move a muscle … but momma's got him hard again. Momma knew he was holding back. Baby should know better. Momma's never gunna stop. Not until she—gets—what—she—wants."
Dee guessed the plastic, battery powered clock hanging sideways on the bathroom wall read one o'clock. Or maybe two. The jade foam dripping from the clock face made it hard to read.
Galatea flattened herself out a bit to fit into the tub behind him. Dee tried to pop the stopper in the tub's drain but it zipped out of his cream-coated fingers and skittered out into the hallway. "Don't bother," Galatea said, rubbing Dee down with the purple bathing scrubber. "I've got enough of the three Ds in me right now to sink a battleship, so a little nanomek down the drain is no big loss. Besides, it almost always finds its way home." She blew cool air against his back and rolls of the soapy, jade cream poured over his shoulders and filled the tub. "Can you handle it?"
Dee hugged his knees, feeling countless nanogasms coursing through him. "Yes, it's wonderful." He leaned back and stole a kiss. "Thank you. You gave me an incredible gift. Thank you, thank you."
Galatea just smiled, humming tunelessly, and scrubbed him down. "I wish I could go with you," she said after a while. "To go out in broad daylight and be seen with you, I mean. I want everyone to see us together—especially that Ursula bitch."
Dee laughed. "Speaking of U, I need to remember to pay her back for all that absinthe. Wait a minute." He turned to face her. "Food coloring."
"Huh?"
"You wanted to go out and be seen," Dee said, "Ursula has got to have some food coloring in her apartment. Maybe we can…"
"Hey, yeah," said Galatea. "Why didn't I think of that. RGB, right? I've got the G, I just need some R and B."
"I don't think it works that way…"
"Shut up," Galatea said. "And you, move your lazy ass!"
"What," Dee began, but startled when the background nanogasms suddenly vanished. The jade foam boiled out of the bathtub and onto the floor, leaving Dee spotless and squeaky clean from head to toe. The foam whisked up fluffed out and a willowy, ghostly Galatea rose above him, an abstract apparition sculpted from curling arabesques of cloud and cream.
"I'm going, I'm going," the apparition said, its wispy voice little more than a crackle of bursting bubbles. It wafted down the hallway. "I'll get it."
>
Dee shook his head, and called after it. "Don't forget to leave Ursula some money! My wallet's in my pants, wherever they wound up."
"Okay!" it bubbled back.
Galatea slipped sideways around him, pancake flat, and filled out to sit in his lap. She grinned like a cat.
"I can see through you again," Dee said. "As much as I ever could, which wasn't really all that much was it?" She just grinned at him, as translucent as green glass. "Was it—that is, were you—aware and awake this whole time?"
"Yes!" she said, bouncing. "Covering every scrumptious, solid inch of you." She cupped Dee's face, kissed him, and pinched his cheek. "Getting into every pore. Giving you all those nanogasms." She drubbed merrily on his chest with her fists. "Oh my God, I can't wait to remember it. It must have been awesome."
"It was," the apparition said, drifting back in through the door, a handful of colorful plastic vials suspended in the core of her vaporous body. Dee thought it looked much less substantial. "But getting these was a real pain in the ass. Thank God Ursula leaves her window cracked open. And the gardening crew almost saw me. And I almost blew away in the wind. And I nearly burned all my nanomek just carrying these things around." The vials dropped through her to the floor.
"And I couldn't give a shit," said Galatea, leaping out of the tub. "I can't wait any longer." She knelt beside the apparition, eyes closed, mouth open, and tongue peeking out over her bottom lip like a shameless Catholic schoolgirl awaiting a communion wafer from a really cute priest.
The apparition pressed her spectral sex around Galatea's tongue. Galatea ate her out and then ate her way in. "Why does this always make me so freaky-hot?" Dee asked.
"Because you’re a freak," Galatea said, sucking on the apparition's left breast from the inside-out. The apparition soon disappeared down Galatea's gullet. "C'mon, c'mon," she muttered. "Fuck, I'm too excited to concentrate. Wait. Oh. Oh my." She unraveled in long, coiling curlicues, the daggers of her hair leading the way.
"Galatea?" Dee said.
The green curlicues sewed themselves back up and Galatea was lying face down on the floor, her disheveled hair curtaining her head. "I think I'm just going to lie here for a while, Dee, if that's okay," she said, hushed and muffled.
Dee listened to her giggle and sigh for a while before sneaking out of the tub and into the bedroom. It looked like a paintball war zone. Galatea had moved Dee's computers and equipment into the living room before really letting herself loose. The bedroom was entirely her territory now. It reeked of citrus-and-sex and a hint of Nyquil, her essence permeating the plaster behind peeling wallpaper and the stucco ceiling and eating through the varnish of the hardwood floor. The bedroom closet door had come off its hinges. He moved it aside and inspected the closet's contents. Much of his clothes, kept in cheap plastic closet organizers, had been spared, although Galatea had taken to wearing his underclothes and all of his ties had been lost to her bondage/tickle experiment earlier in the day. Dee still could not remember how he managed to snap the bed frame in half. He picked out undamaged pairs of briefs, socks, blue jeans, an undershirt and a melon-colored polo. Dee was threading a black leather belt through the loops on his jeans when he heard Galatea crow, "Tah-dah!"
She struck a classic tah-dah! pose in the bedroom doorway, emptied food coloring vials born aloft in an upturned hand. She wore a tight, white, strapless jumpsuit that clung to every accentuated curve and starkly announced her utter lack of bra and panties. Her skin was the color of peach ice-cream, her hair orange as flame, her lips red as blood. "Check this out!"
Dee said, "Um."
"What," Galatea said, her ivory-white smile blinding. "Can't even manage a 'wow'?"
"Wow," said Dee. "Definitely 'wow.' But, um, I don't think it's going to help us in the lets-be-seen-together department."
"What?" Galatea said again. "Why not?"
"Um…"
Galatea's eyes narrowed. "What? And you better not make me say 'what' again, motherfucker."
"…Have you looked in the mirror?" Dee said, and shut his eyes.
He heard dead silence for a moment, then the slap-slap-slap of open-toed sandals, and finally a mortified scream from the bathroom. "Oh my God," Galatea wailed, "I look like a fucking 'toon!"
Dee hustled after her. "Actually," he said, his brain kicking into automatic pilot and launching a routine lecture, "the signature stylization of anime is very different from American cartooning in several key—"
"Shut up, dumb ass! Okay, okay. Let me think. What if I try imitating somebody?" Her gel morphed and color-cycled with a soft, metallic sigh. "Nooo! I wanted Betty Paige and I got Betty Rubble!"
Dee stood, frozen and staring, from the hallway. Complement, complement, he thought desperately, think of a complement. "Betty Paige as Betty Rubble," he heard himself say. Okay, which brain cell came up with that one? Because when I find out, you're fired.
Galatea squeezed her fists over her eyes and morph-cycled again. "I can't look," she said. "Tell me: is it Angelina Jolie, or…"
Honesty works, right? Try honesty. "No," he gulped, "it's Lara Croft, but the rendering is quite impress—"
She pounded against the mirror, morph-cycling on each punch. "No! —Punch! Carmen San Diego— This is so fucking —Punch! GI Joe's Baroness— humiliating! I could never —Punch! Jessica Rabbit— be seen like this! I could die, Dee, I could just —Punch! Princess Jasmine— die! Dee, don't look at me! Dee? Dee, why are you so quiet—Oh." She cycled back to her jade self. "Oh," she said again, the sound drawing out as realization dawned.
"Don't worry about going out," Dee said sotto voce. He stepped into the bathroom and gently closed the door behind him. "Now isn't the time."
Galatea giggled, "Ah—hah, ah-hum, hm-mm."
Where the scent of wild roses
Turns the milk to cream,
Tell your mother how you walked all night
Upon the velvet green.
—Jethro Tull, Velvet Green
Chapter Two: Weird Science
"Dee," Galatea called out, "how long will you be gone?"
Dee was back in the closet foraging for a second set of clothes. His first attempt at getting dressed in three days had wound up in the laundry hamper soaked through with pastel rainbows of honey. "It's an hour round-trip to the SRU place," he said, scraping flecks of green icing off another pair of jeans with a fingernail, "so I'll get there right around six. In all honesty, I'd like to stay until I've gotten all my questions answered, but they will be closing up by then, I don't think they'll be very forthcoming, and I really don't want to force anybody to tell me anything—I'm not even sure if I can—but I'm going to try." He buttoned down a yellow shirt. "That makes it two hours, tops. Is that okay?"
"No," Galatea sighed, "but you gotta do what you gotta do. I'll miss you."
He wrestled into his black leather jacket. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'll make it up to you."
"Ooh, I like the sound of that."
"Did you ever find my wallet?" Dee asked.
"Yeah, it's on the kitchen table."
Dee rummaged around the kitchen, filling his pockets. "Honey," he asked, "what's up with the Auberjon-eoises?"
"The what?"
"The Odo cut-outs," Dee said, staring.
"What about 'em?"
"Why are they all standing in the recycle bin?"
"Forget 'em," Galatea said. "That was just a school girl crush. Baby-girl, really. I'm onto solids now."
Dee found the tin of thickener next to his wallet on the kitchen table. "Hey, this thing feels lighter than I remember. You sure you didn't take any more nanomek?"
"I told you, I don't need it. It wouldn't do me any good. I've got the three Ds, remember?"
Dee joined Galatea in the bathroom to give her a quick squeeze. "I remember."
She kissed him before turning back to the mirror. She restyled the swooping X above her left breast, giving it a slight slant and staggering the curves a bit, its shape evocative of a dancer with
arms upraised. "What do you think?"
"It's very sweet," Dee said, "but you don't have to wear it at all. I trust you."
"I know," she said, turning this way and that, looking at the mark from all angles, "but I want to. I like it."
"All right," he said, hugging her. "It's just…wait. Are you going to stick with that design?" She nodded. He squeezed tight, making her sigh. "Can I add another hour?"
"What? Why?"
"I've got an idea. You'll see. You'll like it."
"Okay," she pouted, "but you gotta make it up to me twice as hard, you got that?"
"I got it." He goosed her. "And you're going to get it."
"Good," she said, slapping his hands away. "Now get the fuck outta here. I've got Internet porn to catch up on."
"Actually," he said, handing her a thin box, "I found an old DVD for you. It's a comedy."
"'John Carpenter's The Thing'?" she read aloud. "Is it funny?"
"Trust me; you'll love it."
Dee's banged-up Volkswagen drove past fields of wild grass, land zoned for commercial use decades ago but left fallow thanks to its invisibility from the elevated highway. No signs were posted to name the local roads and the MapQuest print-out proved just as wrong now as it did four days ago. Dee half expected never to find the place, or if he did, to find it boarded up and seemingly deserted for years. After all, his previous excursion to SRU Medical Technology had taken him across the Twilight Zone and beyond the Outer Limits to that little curtained-off cubby in the far corner of the video store of cosmic reality that the likes of Rod Serling, H.P. Lovecraft, Stephen King and Clive Barker visited in their imaginations but knew better not to write about it.
A much-relieved Dee pulled into the oversized SRU Medical Technology parking lot just a few minutes before six o'clock. The pickup truck was nowhere to be seen, but the old Mini still sat exactly where Dee remembered it at the very edge of the lot. A dusty blue van rumbled past, its driver apparently lost, the only other traffic Dee had seen since turning onto the local off-ramp.
