The Life Cycle of the Lesser Blue Fairy
(MF anal fist size magic rom) Part 3/4
You don't believe in fairies? This one could change your life 
forever.

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction contains sexual situations not 
suitable for children. It may not be reproduced in any way where 
readers are charged for it. Copyright reserved. 

Chapter Three - Butterfly
(You really do have to read Chapters 1 & 2 first. Currently at
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_1.txt)
In which our hero works some things out, and our heroine takes 
charge. In a symbyotic relationship, unlike a parasitical one, 
the host can gain as much as the vector.


19.14 Saturday 3rd July 2004

I've been doing some research, and I have to note this down.

Photo albums. I've looked through the old photos of both of us, 
and it is NOT just that I am seeing her properly for the first 
time. I look at the picture and I look at her, asleep, and she has 
really changed. In the pictures, she used to be ... okay, but 
fairly ordinary. You know, good old Celia. Now she is just 
stunning. As for me, I look in the mirror, and again, I have 
changed too. I can't put my finger on it, but frankly now I'm 
pretty cool. That's Number 1.

I went out and bought an anatomy book, a text book on the human 
body. It's actually a school revision book, for "A" levels in 
think, but it's really interesting. I never knew half of how we 
are put together - they ought to make everyone learn this. But I 
have been looking for certain things in particular. 

My cock. That's Number 2. I have been reading this log just to 
check on what has happened since, you know what, and sure enough I 
got stiff. So I got out the tape measure and, on the top, from the 
join to the tip is fifteen inches. The book says range five to 
eight, median six, star turn nine. So what's with this monster?

Number 3. Blue. Nowhere does it mention any thing about the colour 
of bodily fluids, but I know blue should not be on the menu. The 
juice from her cunt, my spunk... I've just licked a piece of white 
paper to check my own saliva. Not strong, not like my cum, but the 
wet patch has a clear blue tinge. 

Number 4. The clincher. The diagrams of a woman's parts are pretty 
fascinating. What comes across is that not much of it is designed 
to give us pleasure. Sorry guys. Most of it is to do with making 
babies. Making babies is such an extraordinary thing that I don't 
suppose this should surprise me. Now I've worked it out, it's 
clear that last time, the head of my cock ended up buried right in 
Celia's uterus, her womb. That's what felt so good. Her cervix was 
what was gripping me. It's also clear that it's completely 
impossible. The angle's wrong, the shape's wrong, and finally 
that's what the cervix is there for - to keep out nasty foreign 
objects like my prick. So how? And why no damage? 

And the answer is ... Ariel. It has to be. I mean two weirdly 
supernatural things like this must be linked. 

Strange to say, I have hardly thought about her today. I feel 
quite disloyal, but now the whole thing with her seems like a 
dream. I had to re-read this log to remember all the details, and 
I just cannot bring back the way I used to feel about her. I guess 
that's how I feel about Celia, now instead.

But reading it makes it clear. She knew what was going to happen 
when we finally actually did it. She knew it, and went ahead any 
way. She knew what would happen to her body, and it was her idea 
for us to eat it. So that's the trigger, whatever was in that blue 
glass statuette was what started these changes. That's WHAT 
happened. But why?


10.22 Sunday 4th July 2004

I decided to come clean with Celia. Partly because I think she 
ought to know, I mean she must be wondering about all this weird 
shit; partly in case it's dangerous, but mostly because I love 
her. This is too big, and I want us to share everything from now 
on. Our new life starts here.

Of course it did not go as I had planned. When I got back to the 
bedroom last night she had changed into a simple grey skirt and 
white top, and was looking pretty hot. (Actually I don't think 
there is anything in her wardrobe she couldn't make look hot.) She 
kept the blue shirt dress, she explained with big sad eyes, just 
in case there was another time I felt like ripping her clothes off 
and raping her. I felt terrible and started apologising before I 
caught her wicked grin. 

"You little ... " I cried and grabbed for her, while she rolled 
around on the bed gurgling with laughter and delight. When the 
romp and the making out that followed was threatening to turn into 
something a little hotter, I called a halt. "Look, we have to 
talk."

She stopped, sighed, and sat next to me, gazing into my eyes.

"All this stuff that's been happening to us, well, it's not just 
you and me." I started.

"Well of course not, you lunk," she interrupted, and then went on 
in a serious tone. "Look, Mike, I didn't like all the hours you 
used to spend in your den on the computer. I sure didn't like what 
I learnt last night about your chat room girl friend and your 
cybersex. But if she's ...if she really is dead, then I forgive 
her and I forgive you. You were pretty cut up about it but even 
you must realise that if she did commit suicide, it was NOT your 
fault." She stared at me, hard. "Okay?"

"Yes, but I didn't say ... I mean she did, but it's not" I started 
but she steam-rollered over me.

"And if the drugs in that little present she sent us really were 
meant for you and me, as a couple, to get us together like this, 
then I forgive her anything. I hope she IS still alive, and if 
not, I hope her soul is happy."

I gazed back at her for a week or two before the power of speech 
returned. Here was I being so clever working it out, where Celia 
just spotted the link immediately. "But what about the changes. 
Haven't you noticed, we are actually physically different?"

"Well, of course. Silly boy. You think a girl never looks in the 
mirror?" She got up and stood in front of the full length mirror 
on the old Victorian wardrobe. She stroked her top over her high 
round breasts (no bra, I could not help noticing), and swung her 
hips to make the pleated skirt swing and ride up on her thighs. 
"God, I would forgive anything to the person who did this for me." 
She turned and grinned at me. "And who remembered to zap you so 
you actually noticed." She danced towards me on those long, long 
legs, chuckling, hips swinging that skirt at each step. "And, I 
may be innocent in these things, but even I know that a weapon 
like you're packing these days is NOT natural."

Before I could stop her, she was on her knees in front of me, 
tugging my belt buckle free. "But aren't you worried? We don't 
know what's going to happen next!" I protested weakly, as she 
jerked my trousers and pants down, freeing the beast.

She stopped for a second, and gazed up at me, big blues eyes 
shining. "Honey, I love you. The day before yesterday I was 
desperately worried I was going to lose you. Whatever is happening 
here, I am so grateful, so happy." She returned to the business in 
hand. "And I'm determined to enjoy it before it all disappears 
like a dream!" Before I could say another thing she won the 
argument by wrapping her lips around the shiny end, and her hands 
around the base. God, she hadn't forgotten anything since the 
morning.

It was after four or five minutes of this bliss, that she showed 
what she was capable of. She took first one, then the other hand 
away and put them behind her back. Then, jerk by jerk, she impaled 
herself on my cock, forcing it down her throat until her nose was 
pressed against my lower belly. I couldn't believe it was 
happening. I couldn't believe the feeling. There was a resistance, 
and then suddenly my prick head was through it, and was being 
clutched by something tight and vibrating, inside her. I was 
touching her hair and her face, and in disbelief I gingerly felt 
her neck. The bulge of my prick head was clear in her throat, 
moving down and down while she thrust herself onto me. God, it was 
way down near her collar bone. I just exploded, and felt the 
pulsing under my fingers as load after load of spunk squirted down 
her neck, straight into her stomach, while her body shook with the 
spasms of her own orgasm.

It took me a moment to recover my senses, but as soon as I had, I 
dragged my softening prick out of her. It seemed to be pulling out 
from her lips for ever, and as soon as it was clear she gave a 
great gasp and sucked in air as if she had been under water. Of 
course, how could she have breathed? Really concerned, I gathered 
her up in my arms, and we collapsed back onto the bed together. 
However, after a couple of deep breaths she turned to me on one 
elbow and beamed, seemingly none the worse for wear.

"Did you see me?" she said proudly, still panting, in an amazing 
husky voice. "Proper deep throat. I can do it!" 

"You sure can" I replied, amazed. "Are you sure you are all 
right?"

"Oh, yes. Well, maybe a bit sore in my throat." she husked, still 
sounding like Eartha Kit. "But, you know, it's just a question of 
overriding the gag reflex. And I came at the same time as you did! 
As soon as you started to pump into me. What do you think of your 
sexy wife now!"

That's the trouble. Now I have no idea what to think.

I looked it up. Human throat. Guess what, even if it feels like 
it, the man's cock doesn't really go down the girl's neck. It's 
too narrow, the wrong shape, the wrong angle, and the phalanx 
would get in the way. So why was my dick reaching down to her 
collar bone? Even though it's big enough to reach, I must have 
been half way down her oesophagus. No wonder she couldn't breath. 
So that's, what, Number 5?

And, have you noticed that yet again we came together. Even with a 
blow job, really deep in her neck where there can't possibly be 
any nerve endings or whatever trips a girl's trigger. Number 6 is 
- I come, it makes her come. 

I wonder if it works in reverse.


23.56 Sunday 4th July 2004

I have decided to take a leaf out of Celia's book, and just go 
with the flow. I can't pretend to understand what is happening, 
but what can I do? Trot along to the local hospital and ask if 
they have any specialists on impossible body penetrations? Sure. 
The more I think about it, the more I realise we should keep all 
this very quiet. And in the mean time, I'm going to lie back and 
enjoy the show.

Which is just as well, because when we went to bed tonight, she 
pulled another one on me. We were getting ready for bed, or at 
least I was, while she got in my way trying on all her night wear 
in different combinations to see what was going to be the most 
difficult for me to ignore. The winner seemed to be a boring 
pyjama top of mine that had lost its buttons, got shrunk in the 
wash, and had been put out to be a cleaning cloth. Until she wore 
it, tails tied together under her breasts, with nothing else. How 
come a piece of clothing makes her MORE naked? She was bad enough 
simply nude, but now ... She danced just out of reach, with her 
back to me, winking over her shoulder, as if the silly top 
actually clothed her while her bottom and long legs oscillated 
beneath. I reached out to grab her thighs and softly took the 
round soft flesh of her left butt in my mouth.

"Mmmmm. You want some ass, tiger?" she growled. "Then come and 
take some!" Before you could shake a tail she was on the bed on 
all fours, beautiful legs apart, breasts swinging, looking over 
her shoulder at me with such a hungry expression that I almost 
came when I caught her eye. Where did she learn to shake her 
bottom like that! I licked her rosebud asshole without even 
thinking of it (mint flavour ? !) and noticed that blue tinge 
again. I lined him up, but hesitated. My prick looked enormous. 
Did this really fit in here yesterday morning? Wasn't this going 
to hurt her? "Oh go on" she groaned, and dropping her face and 
shoulders down onto the bed reached behind with both hands and 
pulled her ass cheeks apart. As she stretched it all to display 
the bud of the opening it seemed to swell and ripen so invitingly. 
With my thumb I spread more of the strangely blue saliva around 
and into it, revelling in the slick feeling of the opening and the 
stretched slippery skin around it. I lined up the head of my cock, 
pushed down, and was in.

Wow. She didn't stop. She pushed back against me, egged me on, 
begged for more, and, unlike last time, it just kept going in. It 
was pretty good. I won't go into details, but amazingly it was as 
if we both knew what we were doing. She took all of me, pushing 
back against me until each resistance was overcome, and I ended up 
with my belly tight on her luscious buttocks, feeling as if my 
prick was about to emerge near her belly button. It took only a 
few touches around her clit to set off the old chain reaction, and 
I pumped stuff into her for so long it felt like it should have 
been coming out of her ears.

Number 7. The human rectum is about five inches long when full. I 
was in Celia all the way. Looking at the cross section in the 
book, I don't think I was imagining pushing against her belly 
button. I bet I really was. With my fifteen inches I should have 
been making dents in the bed. So what happened to all the stuff 
in-between? What is happening in her body?


09.38 Monday 5th July 2004

I've decided to call in sick today. Well if I am not sick I am 
certainly not my usual self! 

We woke late this morning. But not together - I was woken up by 
the sensation of soft lips carefully engulfing the end of my tool. 
It seems she had stirred first, and the sight of my "morning" 
erection was too much to resist so she decided to return yesterday 
morning's favour. I was in no position to complain, flat on my 
back and barely able to think for the feeling in my cock. However 
when she disengaged only to climb over me and carefully lined 
herself up over it, I started to get worried. 

"Hush, honey" she shushed me. "That blue magic ... huh ... has it 
covered ... ahhh ... you're so sweet ... huh ... to worry but ... 
huh ... I think my insides will ... ahhhh ... take anything now 
... huh ... huh ..." and with each breath she worked herself 
further down until she was sitting on my hips with the whole thing 
buried inside her and a grin like the cat who got the canary.

God, the sight of her sitting, on display, on my tummy with my 
thing swallowed inside her. The feel of her, all within reach and 
waiting for me, her pretty grimacing face, her round shoulders, 
her soft hot nippled breasts, her flat toned stomach. There was a 
dent in her stomach, just above her belly button, moving as we 
moved, and I knew what it was. I reached out to push it gently and 
I could FEEL my push with head of my knob. I came immediately, and 
of course, she was hot on my heels.

Wow. How can I complain? Talk about gift horses. But I worry about 
her. I mean, if I was in her womb before, where was I now? If I 
was to hurt her I couldn't bear it. Maybe I should ask her - she 
always was the only sensible one in this marriage.

Don't get me wrong, I am so pleased to have her like this and I 
know we're so lucky. But I just don't get all this shit. It's not 
quite believable, and now I am beginning to get a little bit ... 
frightened.


10.25 Monday 5th July 2004

This is Celia. Mike said he had something to explain, and then he 
brought me in here, and showed me, on his computer. This log. I 
have read it all. I have sent him off to work. He has to do 
something normal, to stop him from worrying so much. Me, I do not 
work on Mondays, which is often useful. If nothing else, I get a 
day to catch up on the mess he makes over a weekend.

I should say that I cannot believe it. But the strange thing is 
that I can, I do. I had been in some sort of denial up to now. 
This thing with him and me since we ate that little glass 
figurine, has been so great that I have not dared think, not dared 
question anything. But incredible as it seems, now it all hangs 
together. 

Of course his stuff in the log is hopeless. Trust a man. All that 
stuff about the sex. I can hardly read it - it is worse than a 
Mills and Boon novel (which, by the way, I do NOT read) - and he 
left out all the facts, the interesting things. There is no proper 
observation, no system, no record of this amazing experience that 
would be any use to a proper scientist. These changes that are 
happening to us could be really important. So I have insisted that 
I am going to keep this journal from now on.


20.19 Tuesday 6th July 2004

I have decided we need a continuous record of the changes. So each 
day I will record the size of his penis, measured erect, along the 
top surface to the tip, and my vital statistics. Of course he has 
to be hard to measure it properly - we have to be consistent here. 
And I have to look after him afterwards. Well we must all make a 
little sacrifice in the cause of science. I did wonder about some 
internal measurement for me but I cannot think how to do it 
repeatably. 

And I must record our activity, of course.

So last night and today it is;
PL (penis length) 16.5; stats (Hip, waist, bust, bra size) 34-26-
38-DD; Action , VPx1 (lounge), Cx2 (lounge, garden) APx1 (bedroom)

I am using a code to keep it short. VP = Vaginal Penetration, C = 
Cunnilingus, etc. I probably should try and record the time 
duration but for some reason I never remember to look at the 
clock.


20.10 Wednesday 7th July 2004

PL 17, stats 34-26-38-DD, Action VPx1 (kitchen), Cx3 (I think - I 
may have lost count somewhere) (mostly garden) VPx1 + APx1 + Fx2 
(bedroom) (do I count orgasms or separate events?) Maybe I should 
only count them separately if there is a decent break in between. 
F means fellatio by the way. Should I distinguish deep throat? 
Mind you that IS the only way I do it these days.

Mike is helping me measure breast volume to work out cup size, but 
I am not sure how accurate his method is. I will let him continue 
since it makes him feel useful. It makes me feel ... well anyway I 
will let him continue.


20.56 Thursday 8th July 2004

PL 17, stats 34-26-38-E, Actio

I cant do thsi

Back after a break. I am here in the study alone. My eyes sting 
and my cheeks are wet. I have been reading the old log again. Up 
to the part where .. where she dies. I can't read any more.

I didn't really take it in first time. Oh yes, I got the 
headlines, the blue light, the fairy, the amazing penis. But now I 
understand. He was in love with her. Loved her. He was completely 
in love with this fantasy figure and killed her. Poor, poor boy. I 
remember him now, weeping incoherently in my arms. God, how wrong 
was I, about the chat room fling and all that. I should feel 
jealous, but for some reason I'm just ... sad. I did not even get 
to see her, not once. And now I never will.


20.25 Friday 9th July 2004

PL 17.5, stats 34-26-39-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 
(bedroom)

This thing that is happening to us, it is not just about sex. We 
feel so well, so healthy, that I am surprised the glow is not 
visible. We are both much stronger than we were, particularly 
Mike. He can just lift me up, and support me in any position , 
which is great when we are trying to ... well anyway, he can 
support my weight for hours. We have not had a sniffle nor do I 
ever seem to feel cold, no matter what (or how little!) I wear 
outdoors.

But the strangest thing happened this evening, when I was chopping 
carrots for supper. I cook mostly, and I have the kitchen arranged 
just how I like it, with a place for everything and everything in 
its place. But Mike has always liked to hang around and keep me 
company. We chat while I potter around, and he is quite good at 
the simple tasks I give him. But tonight he crept up and, well I 
think the phrase is, "goosed" me. The knife slipped and I cut my 
finger really deeply. I squealed and immediately sucked the cut, 
how you do. But within about 30 seconds it stopped hurting. And 
when I pulled it away from my mouth to look at it, I could see the 
cut getting shorter until there was only a pink line left, and 
then that disappeared. In three minutes there was no sign at all 
of what I had done. It looks like we have some sort of healing 
powers - no wonder Mike can stick that thing right up inside me 
without it hurting!


20.39 Saturday 10th July 2004

PL 18, stats 34-26-39-E, Action VPx2 (lounge) VPx3 (bedroom)

I love having him in me, just love him, so much. Maybe we are 
calming down, maybe we are getting used to it, but it now it lasts 
longer and I can actually think while he is in me. I lie there and 
glory in the feeling, the sensations, of doing what I know we 
should not be able to do. God it feels good.

I've been thinking about what Mike wrote in the journal about us. 
Never mind the fairy, what is strange is to discover what this 
man, that I thought I knew, actually felt about me. 

You see I was never really in love, even in the beginning. To me, 
he was a meal ticket, a way to get out of my parents house, and 
yet maybe I blamed him for our loveless marriage. Now I think 
about it I was pretty tough on him most of the time. But he never 
strayed, although I must have been pretty grim to live with 
sometimes. He did not take up gambling or prostitutes or drink, 
and I am fairly sure he did not even flirt with the girls at work. 
All because ... well as far as I can make out, it is just that he 
liked me.

And to me, the old Saturday night "date" in bed was really 
special. I thought I was being sooooo brazen, and so clever in 
keeping my man faithful with my regular weekly dose of 
irresistible sex. Instead it turns out he put up with it to keep 
me happy. (Which really worked by the way - well these things 
*are* relative.) God I was such a sanctimonious bore. And Mike was 
just ... one of the good guys.

Mike, even if you are not reading these entries now, I know that 
some day you will. And this is for you. I love you. I am in love 
with you. I love you. And I can make it up to you now. 

I do not know where this strange business will end up, whether we 
will end up super-humans, or dead, or even just back how we were. 
But whatever happens I promise that I will never return to being 
like that. From now on every part of me, every hole, every inch of 
my surface, is yours to use and abuse in any way you can imagine. 
You can do what you like with me. If I could manage it I would 
spend the rest of my life with your prick inside me. I am yours.


20.15 Sunday 11th July 2004

PL 18.5, stats 34-25-39-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 
(bedroom)

I need a new code for this thing which I understand is called 
"fisting". That is what "Fst" means. I could never have imagined 
it before. I mean he has always been magic with his fingers, even 
in the old days. It was the only time I ever really let loose. But 
putting his whole hand up my ... And now it is not foreplay. What 
he does with his hand up inside me - well that is the main event. 
What is amazing is that apparently people do this WITHOUT that 
healing thing that Mike and I have got. 

Did I mention that since the wall of my uterus has been breached, 
his penis goes right up into my body cavity? And it has been 
getting further up inside me. On top of that, my insides are 
becoming sensitive. It is difficult to describe, but basically 
your internal organs and surfaces do not actually have much in the 
way of nerve endings. Or not usually. Not much point, I suppose. 
When he was in me before, although the overall sensation was 
always great, it was more like a pressure, a warmth, that filled 
me. 

But now I can tell what is going on as if it was the surface of my 
arm. I still love his penis, in my womb, in my anus, down my neck. 
But you cannot imagine how intimate it is, mind blowing, to have 
the man you love caressing the INSIDE of your belly with his 
fingers.


20.16 Monday 12th July 2004

PL 19, stats 34-25-39-E, Action VPx3(all garden), Fstx1 (study) 
VPx2, Fx1, Cx1 (bedroom)

Must prune the roses. The things you spot on your back.

I do not understand why I am so calm about all this. Maybe the 
changes affect my mind as well, so I do not mind. 

Last night we were lying on the carpet in the living room with a 
few cushions about, and he was right inside me, with his hand. 
Well, never mind his hand. He had his head on my thigh and 
shoulder against my vagina, with his whole right arm roaming 
around inside my torso, exploring. I could feel his every touch, 
even when he brushed against the underside of my lungs. I could 
breath against his fingers. 


21.45 Tuesday 13th July 2004

This is Mike. Celia can't write this. Well she could, the silly 
girl, but she's in a bit of a state.

I was just sitting down in front of the TV when I heard her cry 
out, from the bathroom. When I rushed to the door I discovered it 
was locked, but I could hear her whimpering, then weeping, inside. 
She opened it after I had been banging for what seemed like hours 
but I guess was only a minute. She was naked to the waist, and had 
blood streaming down from under her left breast. Even without the 
crying it was pretty garbled but she had clearly cut herself 
somehow, pretty deeply. Then I don't know what grabbed me but I 
bent down and licked the cut. Stupid, but it was completely the 
right thing to do. The bleeding stopped almost immediately. So I 
held up her boob up with my hand, put my head right down, and 
licked the wound, putting my tongue right into the gash so I could 
feel the cut flesh with it. It was pretty weird - have you ever 
licked a raw steak? And this wet red meat was my live wife, my 
darling. But as I did, her flesh just grew back together again. In 
about half a minute, there was nothing to see that anything had 
happened, and although shocked and scared, she was fine.

It was another ten minutes of holding her on the sofa, before I 
got the truth out of her. It's almost funny, she is so apologetic, 
and so embarrassed. She seems to be more worried about frightening 
me than about the fact that she might have permanently scarred 
herself. Apparently she got this idea that this blue business has 
somehow made us - not immortal - but impervious to damage. And for 
some reason she got it into her head that she wanted to have me 
feel INSIDE her boobs. Tweak her nips from the other side. So she 
was going to cut a gap big enough for me to get my hand in. With a 
Stanley knife, would you credit it. It is still lying there, on 
the bathroom floor in the blood. Nuts. Sweet, interestingly 
perverted even, but nuts. So when she's settled down, I think we 
are going to have a little talk about what we can and can't do 
with this strange thing that's going on. 

(But I have made a mental note that it seems blue saliva can heal 
almost anything.)


20.40 Wednesday 14th July 2004

PL 19, stats 34-24-39-E, Action Fstx2 (lounge) VPx3 (bedroom)

Mike is such a good guy. I don't know why I never saw it before, 
but somehow, over the years, he ... well he knows how I tick, and 
there is something in me that just relies on his being there. How 
can I not have loved him before? Or maybe I was in love with him, 
and just never noticed it. He was so great just talking to me, and 
putting it all in perspective. It IS far out, what is going on, 
but that does not mean that real life is not going on at the same 
time. Yes, it is special, maybe even important, but not as 
important as us.

I realise that, while I love this new body, (and I love HIS new 
body,) if push came to shove I could do without either. But I could 
never do without him. That thing I wrote down last weekend, you 
know, about me being his no matter what? Well now I have told him 
to his face. And to see it light up, to have him hold me and kiss 
me like that ... Why didn't I do this years ago?

Anyway, he and I are going to map my insides. Yes, him with his 
arm and hand up inside me. All the way inside me. Christ I am 
getting that warm butterfly feeling in my stomach just typing the 
words, and it is starting to get a bit, you know, slippery, down 
there. I might just go and see what he is up to.


22.16 Thursday 15th July 2004

PL 19, stats 34-23-38-E, Action VPx1, Fstx1 (study) VPx3or4 
(bedroom)

Today, we did the business of mapping things out.

I lay on the bed, and he got into a comfortable position. I love 
the feel of him between my legs, the weight of his head on my 
inner thigh. It is as if he belongs there. So he started, well 
warming me up, and its sooooo good when he does that, and then I 
gripped his ... well any way, once we had that out of our system, 
had calmed down and caught our breath, he reminded me why we were 
there. So he gently slipped his hand in, where it was still nicely 
warm and lubed up. As he worked up higher and further in, he just 
talked to me, describing what he could feel, while I tried to tell 
him what I thought he was touching. Talk about torture - having to 
remain lucid, trying to be clear and detached and scientific, 
while his fingers were roaming around inside me!

It is pretty amazing, the changes. First off, lots of things are 
just missing. Most of my bowels, small and large intestine, that 
sort of stuff. As far as we can tell there is a liver, kidneys, 
and spleen, but none of the other, well, offal, left. And yet I 
feel fine. Better than fine - I feel great. So what IS there? 
Lungs for sure, the heart we can both feel beating, a straight 
tube from my neck down to a spherical stomach, and then a pretty 
straight piece of intestine to the rectum. Vagina, uterus, body 
cavity of my torso if he goes in one way. Anus, rectum, short 
stretch of intestine up to my stomach if he goes in the other. 
Nice and simple, eh? It certainly helps explain my wasp-like 
waist! 

And then, the magic blue goo is everywhere. My saliva, my vaginal 
juices, Mike's ejaculate, his pre-cum, what leaks out of my 
nipples when he really gets me going - it all seems to be the same 
stuff. Everything inside me must be coated with it, because he can 
feel it everywhere, and we think that my even stomach fluids are 
made of that or something pretty similar, because he can stick his 
hand right in and splash it about. I can hear you think "Eww" but 
it is not like that. When it is him and me, it is all beautiful 
and there are no limits. 

It covers his hand when he pulls it out. (oh, that strange sucking 
feeling and the feeling of emptiness afterwards!) But then, it 
disappears, as if it evaporates or is absorbed into his skin. 
Three minutes later, his hands are clean and dry, and any on my 
thighs, say, is gone as well. Which rings a bell. Where have I 
heard or read of that sort of thing happening before?


20.23 Friday 16th July 2004

PL 20, stats 34-21-39-E, Action VPx2, Fstx1 (car) Mx1, VPx1 
(garden) VP at least 3 (bedroom)

He can still surprise me. There we were, lying wrapped up in each 
other on the bed, panting and recovering from the first bout, and 
I asked him if he liked my new baby doll nighty. The white one 
that was lying in a silk puddle on the floor by the bed. And you 
know what he answered? 

He chuckled; "Honey, it's lovely. Looks almost as good on you as 
it does off." (I think I knew what he meant) "But there is one 
thing of yours that is sexier than anything else you could ever 
wear." 

I was puzzled. "The black lace bodice, with the laces?" He had 
seemed struck by that, before it got ripped. But he shook his 
head, to that and all my other suggestions. 

"Think laterally" he suggested. "You are always wearing it. You 
never take it off."

"My smile!" I beamed, hopefully. 

He laughed again. "Almost. Except when you are getting carried 
away, when its less of a smile and more ... oo .. oo .. oo " He 
proceeded with this ridiculous imitation of an extrovert 
chimpanzee having an orgasm. He had to crush me to his chest to 
get out of the pummelling I was giving him. Of course he would not 
let on, even when I tickled him in the ribs, really hard. He is so 
strong, the bastard. 

But then he slays me. By reaching over and gently taking my left 
hand in his, then tapping his wedding ring against mine.

"This thing", he whispers, while he holds me with his other arm and 
pauses. He looks deep into my eyes, and the rest of the room swims. 
"this thing, that means that you are mine and I am yours. You want 
to turn me on; then wear this ring and nothing else."

What can you do? 

Well I know there is only one thing I can do. Fuck his sweet brains out 
on every possible occasion.

End of Chapter Three

The Final Chapter is currently at;
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Old-Softy/Blue_fairy_4.txt