Under The Bridge

I still don't know what a rainbow party is, but I have some ideas. I like rainbows. I like most colors separately, and all together they can be really pretty. She keeps playing with me, and I take the opportunity to crawl up her arm. I trace shapes in her palm and slowly start adding weight to our petting.

"Tell me your ideas," she says, "I'm curious."

"To take a gamble," I hum, "I'd rather show you."

"Fair. I bet after last time, you're really eager to try them out."

"Not wrong. So, if you're game, do you want to do it here or in the bedroom?"

"This is a studio, Mac. Those are the same places."

"Not quite. Maybe. Let me show you."

She's figured it out, but I keep the mystery to myself. I think she'll like the other option better. The kiddy pool doesn't really have any support of a body that's shaped like a body. I slip over the rim and start to creep, to leap, to slide and glide across the floor. I come to my bathroom door and extend a simple tendril up to turn the nob. I could slip under the gap, but I want to be polite. Kaori sighs.

"Y'know what," she says, "This is still better than just a bare mattress on the ground. Your bathroom is really clean, Mac. Like this might be the cleanest bathroom I've ever seen."

I'm pleased. I don't really try to keep everything wiped down and sterilized. It just happens. A quick roll around the floor, up the walls, and everything's more or less spic and span. The tub itself is probably the cleanest thing in my entire apartment. I flow over the edge and pour myself into it. I am shaped like myself.

"So, I just get in you," she hums, "That's weird."

"Yeah. Little bit," I say, "We could do something a bit more standard. I can pull myself together. You have any size preferences?"

"No. This is fine. This is fun. Just have go into the deep end. I'm going to go change."

She leaves me again, shutting the door softly behind her. A bolt of panic hits me. Another chance for her to leave. She can. That's her choice and her power and her world. It would hurt me, but I'm invulnerable in a sense. I'd just go get some ice cream and slowly dissolve the quart until we are one and the same. I'm thinking too much. I just have to go with it and see what happens. The river will turn and spit me out wherever it wants to. I'll be here or there or anywhere or everywhere.

Kaori knocks at the door and doesn't want for the answer. She came back. A bit of time and I was starting to worry.

She's down to her underwear. Dark and simple but matching. I bubble up a little laugh.

"That's mean," she huffs, "I know I screamed when I saw you naked, but really?"

"That's not it," I say, "Its just, there's a thing I saw. If you're underwear matches, then I didn't decide to have sex. That decision happened days ago."

She huffs again, but I'm still right, I think. She's there and shivering in the cold tile. And she is working her way towards me, extending a long leg to dip into me.

"You're warm," she says.

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. And it feels kind of fizzy. Am I going to dissolve or something when I go in?"

"Again, I've already fingered you. Did you get a rash or something after that?"

She shakes her head and slowly sinks in a knee. I work to make myself warmer. It's an effort, but it's worth it. Her entire body is long and lithe and thin. Everything's sharp and cutting and narrow. A swimmer's body, and that thought gets another little giggle from me. Of course, that's how it'd end up. She takes her intrusion slow, letting everything of her get used to be. The leg is long and toned and soft. It leads up to a joint and down to another. There's two of them in me now, and I am coming up to her hips.

Warm, everything of her is warm and flushed and trying to make sense of predicament. Her heartbeat comes out of every vein. Her hips swell as I engulf them. Her stomach is lean and hard, fluttering and clenching under her nerves. I feel the same. Every single drop of me is bouncing and light. Everything's loud and close and so far away and quiet. A chaotic storm surge through me as I reach her chest sends me shivering. Small, all of her is small and cut and narrow and it all works so wonderfully with me. She spreads out and open and I take all of her that's she's given. She gets a fun squeeze. She shivers.

"Mac," she sighs, "This is so fucking weird. It feels so fucking weird. You're so weird."

I take that into consideration and start to lift her out. We tried. It was fun. I learned I feel fizzy.

"I didn't say it was bad," Kaori hums, "Just weird. Like a jacuzzi where the bubbles stay still. And everything smells like pineapple. I like it. I like pineapple."

I hug her a bit tighter and nestle her at the bottom of the tub. There's resistance and flow, all laminar and even. We've tried stillness and now we're trying motion. I run up her body , moving the piercings on her stomach and playing them back down. It's an easy little motion. We're just a lazy river together. I massage her body. There's a handful of knots in her back and I work to undo them. Not really trained in any sort of thing like this, but I know I can feel good. And she's sighing in the best way. There're soft laughs bubbling in the noise. There're little squirms she does with her legs, toes curling and kicking. She can only get a few little motions to come out. I'm holding her still. I'm keeping her quiet. She sinks slowly into me. And we come to her breasts.

She laughs again, a full-on breathy thing flushed with rising excitement.

"So, you like those," she giggles, "I take it back. You're normal. You're so incredibly normal its almost boring."

I trace a circle over her bra before clamping down. I need to give her something to think about. That gets a little slip and a gasp from her.

"Still normal," she says, "but keep doing that. It feels good. Like really, really good."

I like feeling good. I like making her feel good. More of her heat diffuses into me. It's rising from her core. Everything I do feeds into the rising excitement. I can feel her excitement bleed through into me. I trace her through the fabric. I trace and play and lick and tease. I do everything I can in soft little touches. Circles and shapes, every dimension and angle. I over saturate her senses with feather touches. There's little twitches and twinges in her muscles. I tease them out of her, feeding them into the overflowing motion of my body. Ripples and dances, scattering of a hail struck pond, slowing growing into a rising tide. She calms her breathing.

"We need a safe word or something," she says, "Cause I need a way out when you start getting like that."

"Pineapple," I hum.

"Kind of on the nose, but sure. I think that'll work. Do you have any pineapple, by the way? I kind of want some all of a sudden."

"I don't, but we can go get some later. Not quite sure where, but I bet we can get some somewhere. I think there's one of those juice places near here."

Idle banter and she is relaxing again. We can't have that. We need everything wound tight and sharp. I am touching her again, striking and moving and feeling her. She shudders as I move over her fabric. I send a tendril along her thigh and there is no resistance as I slip under the hem. I tug them all the way down. Everything she is opens to me. I work her bra the saw way, undoing the clasp and spitting them both out on to the floor.

We are both touching one another in every single inch of our bodies. And it does feel good. It feels good to be touched. It feels good to engulf. Everything is saying that there is something soft and supple and hard in me and I feel full. It's tearing her apart, poking at the barrier, feeling that reverberation carry into me that I like. I am rippling with her heartbeat, every drop of my essence knocking against the next. I like the ripples she gives me. I like the way they tickle my mind. There's a current in me now, almost in time with hers. My mind is wandering and there is nude flesh to play with.

So much of her and everything is thrumming. I play with her lips, circling the same motions I give to her breasts. She's panting. I creep up her neck and she shivers. I am warm, but when the tide recedes, it is still left cold. The temperature plays her as well. Gooseflesh pops up on her arms and I run over that as well. It's another little bit of current in my flow. I shiver and bubble and finally break that last barrier.

I am in her, and the breath stops. There is just the motion, just the shape I take and the slow spread of her body. Her legs clench and I can't unwind them. I have the current of my body to carry me forward. I have the noises she makes to bounce against and swallow into silence. I love the way she sounds. Light and airy and calming, the wind picking up before a storm, gathering clouds and darkening skies. I love it. It carries across my surface. I spread her open more, applying tighter and tighter pressure on her breasts. Everything I do is more intense than the last. The swell is rising. I want it higher. The waves rise and I am moving everything on offer. Her nipples stand straight and rigid, the flush creeping down to her soul. Her arousal seeps into me, more and more and more of it coming with every second of motion.

"You are the best toy," she whines, "God, you are better than any vibe I've ever had."

I burble something happy. I'm too focused for words. I like the work. I like the chew and masticate. Nothing breaking, nothing bending, but I move her in slight ways. I move her legs open. I run something like a hand up and down her chest. I encircle her waist and hold it down tight. Everything about her cuts me. Everything about her is swift and light. It is the wind. I have engulfed the wind and kept it shackled into me.

The sensation is soft and diffused. It is all of me and all in me. A soft spark that never ends, never cuts out. I am all the running wire current under the water. It jumps from me and runs to her. We are complete. She is singing for me in the gasps and hums and sighs. She sings for me like a humid breeze. I put more into her and I start to experiment.

I put more pressure on her back, starting at her shoulders and moving down her spine. It twists and turns, wanting more n adless and everything in between. More sensation slowly overwhelming her. More feelings and touchings that make her body want to break itself apart. I move to the small of her back and something gives in her.

A deep low moan echoes off the ceiling before crashing back down into me. It hits me like a mallet. All the others are twisting and bending and shaking under my touch. I spread and tease, giving her nothing to push back against. She is trying to break down stone. Torrent one moment, gentle rain the next, constantly changing, constantly morphing, never giving her a second to recover. There is too much of me. There is not enough for her. I play with her and touch everything sharp, running my finger along the keen edge. And she does not stop. Everything I give her exists to draw out the next second. And her release is hitting my own. Everything is light and I am outside of myself. I look into my body and find lightning and sparks. Synapses in the fluid ignite and all of me is tingling. Nothing collected and centered, but all over me is the climax.

"You're pink now," she murmurs through her own white out, "Why are you pink?"

"No clue," I burble, "The yam made me purple before, and I can kind of shift colors around."

"Did you come from that? I think you did. You got really fizzy and jumpy there at the end, but I don't know what that means."

"I think I did too. Like I said, all of me is everywhere. Kind of hard to pick on specific sensations when I'm this liquid."

"So, I guess orgasms can turn you pink. That's fun. What turns you blue?"

"Blue paint. Blueberries, although that's a bit more violet depending on the lighting. I can do green naturally. That and the whole skin tone thing."

Just to be clear, I let a wave rise and fall. The motion carries throughout me and up her shoulder. She giggles and splashes me back.

"I need to give you a rubber ducky or something," she says.

"I want a battleship. I'm a monster, right? I need to fight the military at some point," I say.

"Fair enough. But also, both. Then we can make the ducky fight the boat."

She is a genius, plain and simple. She gets a tight hug all over and she moves her hips up. It does something to me. Not sure what, but it certainly prods me to try harder. She wants more. I want more. All the talk of new toys to play with hasn't really worn out this one. We have a moment to collect ourselves and feel the call of the storm. I wish it would rain, just for the noise. Maybe later.

I never quite pulled out of her. I never quite stopped playing with her. I slowed to let her breathe. I slowed to let me collect myself. I still have my original plan and I start it again. Kaori's body responds with twitches and pulses through me. I touch her stomach and feel her heartbeat drum against her taut skin. I feel her morph around me, grip and push and pull me deeper. That spot on her back, I work it again.

"Do it," she says, "I know what you're thinking. And do it. I want all of it."

I'm eager to try it. There's more of her to fill and spread and open and that's all I want. I want her open and dissolved into me. I cup her ass and it springs back into me. I imagine its good to hit and slap and leave fun prints. I'll have to try when I get the chance. Nothing heavy or swaying, just tight and hard and twitching and moving against me. She's trying to relax. She is suspended in a warm high of sweet gel. She's safe and nestled in the space age luxury beyond her imagination. It is still an invasion.

She opens a bit and I slither in. Everything tenses and holds and calms back down.

There are two of me in her and that is wonderful. She is slowly growing used to me as I jump and writhe and swirl within her. Every shape, every texture I can give, every single movement I can think of is poured in Kaori. And she loves it.

It starts again with the breathy moan and whispering laughs. As I grow, it gets louder. It finds the solid base from which to rise. The wind picks up. She gets louder. I get harder. The sparks are back in my body as she clamps on me. I slip through it, and I keep pumping into her. All the motions in her and the general lines are slow and steady. It keeps her with me.

The noise rises and she keeps escalating. I keep escalating. I am mixing spirals and bumps and screws into my shapes. I am everywhere in her, the light dancing through my drops, her own whiteout building. She is panting and moaning and scrambling at the slick tile of my bathroom. It's not enough to get her. I reach up and take a hand back into me. There are nerves there to massage and pull at and I need to attend with every inch of her. It's all sensation and feeling and blinding with light.

I push and pull and chew her through and through. Dissolved and laid bare, everything turns in on itself. I am pumping into her turning her, contouring us both in a spiral of geometry. I am creeping up her neck, feeling her voice waiver and cry out in joy. She leans down and kisses me on what could be my hand. She does not shy away as I pry into her lips. Her tongue dances on me, coiling from the tart sour before seeking it out in earnest. I grow and change and fill and pump, over and over and over again.

Her release comes slowly this time. The tide recedes and the swell is on the horizon. Tidal wave, plain and simple. The world has gone silent before it all comes crashing down. Free fall, low pressure, everything stilled and quiet and waiting in the vacuum of space.

This one is a scream as it all come crashing down. I catch snippets of it through my own endless white. Light and popping bubbles and the spark starshine of my being. Everything clamped down and tight as I fill and am filled. Everything is collapsing into a soft fuzz of shattered starlight. It's all quiet and loud and both extremes. I hear it through my body. I hear it through the air. Her release spills from her in sharp jets, cutting into me, and I take it all. Nothing is shared. Nothing is safe. It is all the endless glow and sharp bright of sun. I should have turned off the lights. Everything is harsh and biting until I wear it down. All rivers do that. I will wear her down as she cuts through me. We are sharp and soft and calm and loud. Something twists in her, and I draw it out with more shapes. She gets louder and louder and louder until it breaks.

And even then, it's not quite over. There are more things to pull from her, although they are getting farther and farther in between. It's harder to find spots that I haven't scoured clean. Harder and harder to draw from the well. And the waves are receding. The storm surge's dying down. We are left high and stranded and panting. I'm having trouble keeping viscous. I need water, and food and I don't know what else. I don't even know what Kaori needs. Ice cream, I think we need ice cream at some point. So many thoughts bouncing around, carried by the soft moon light of the afterglow.

Kaori heaves out a heavy, heavy sight as I slowly unwind.

"Good job," she sighs, "I don't think I can walk now."

"Do you want to?" I murmur.

"Sort of . I feel like a shower is order, but I can't do that right now. Don't know what that would do to you. Can you walk? Or slide? Or do whatever?"

I urge myself up and over the lip. It's hard, but I splat on the floor. I can ooze and flow, maybe climb up and get the handle. Or just crawl under the door and back to my pool. She shivers.

"Maybe I don't" hums Kaori, "I feel clean. And my skin is so soft now. What did you do to me?"

"Rocked your world, I think," I say.

"I would roll my eyes, but you're right. Like I said, better than any toy I've used. And better than any guy. Maybe. I don't know. I do kind of miss the after cuddle, but we can figure out how that would work later."

She grips the edge of the tub and slowly leverages herself up. Her knees are shaking, and I am jiggling with pride. Like a gentleman, she opens the door for me. I roll onwards while she picks up her underwear.

It takes a moment to put myself together. I find the mold in my mind that had a body and a head and a couple of legs. I put myself back in that shape, interlocking all the strands until I can stand on my own. She's still collapsed in one of my new chairs. I think that's going to be the first order of business. I need a couch. Maybe one of those folding dealies with a bed inside so she can stay over without getting a crick in her neck. I've heard those are terrible.

---

I'm sitting pretty on my little doctor's bench. I've already passed the eye exam on the wall several times, but one more can't hurt. And I pass again. There's a pain chart right next to it and I don't even bother looking at that. I feel no pain. Even if I could, I'm in too good a mood for it to even register. I danced through work, almost bubbling over every time someone asked me about my weekend. I almost took up the offer for a good round for forklift jousting, but the foreman shut that down before it could happen.

The jar on the shelf keeps tempting me. She's restocked the lollipops and I can have them all, if I decide to be a terrible person. None for the kids or the kids at heart. I'm a kid at heart, really, so I step out and fetch my treat. I get three of them before the door opens and I rush back to my seat.

"Afternoon Mac," the doctor says, "Still waiting for some of the labs to spin up and see what's going on. One of the techs is on vacation, so everything's running a bit slow. Shouldn't be too long now, though."

She glances at her desk and apparently I would make a bad thief.