The Tiny Crab

"What's say we indulge a little, hm?" She beams wide as you eagerly nod and straightens out. Her fingers, sure and gentle, pluck you into the air and deposit you in her other hand where she holds you close to her body at stomach level. You have to resist the urge to press yourself against if.

She rests her hand on the table and watches you scramble off. The way you wiggle in your seat next to her plate makes her fond. Your portion of steak and greens rests on the rim of her plate. She makes conversation, asking about your day and what you did, what movie you want to watch this weekend, and you answer happily even if you often get distracted by the sight of her ferrying morsels half the size of your body up to her lips.

She notices. Of course she does. She's flattered, honestly. Ever since you agreed to be her pet she's gained more confidence than she knows what to do with. You've been a doll to her, always wanting to be close to her, always looking at her in awe like she's the most beautiful thing on the planet. Even now, as she talks about the finalized budget proposal, you stare at her like she hung the moon and stars.

She tries something. Her next bite she takes her time, inspecting the morsel and pulling the fork out nice and slow. Her eyes dart down, seeing you frozen with your mouth halfway open, and she lets out a soft exhale of a moan. Her reward? Your entire face turning bright red. She even licks the juice off her lips just to watch your eyes follow her tongue.

You squirm when you notice her gaze, prompting her to blush. But she saves it by humming and reaching down to tilt your head up with the handle of her fork. "Hmm. Cute.”

She finishes her meal without much more teasing. But she doesn't need to. Each bite you feel your heart swell more and more. Until she swallows her last and sits back with half lidded eyes. You watch her lounge, taking in the look of bliss on her face, and wonder if you elicit the same reaction.

"I haven't had a meal that filling in a long time." She muses quietly. "How was yours?"

You stammer out that you liked it and thank her, to which she hums.

"It was my pleasure. I enjoy spending time with you..... Though, you'll have to forgive me." You're only allowed a moment of confusion before you're plucked into the air by Larissa's long fingers pinching the back of your shirt. Up you go, until she holds you in front of her lips in a lazy motion. "It seems only one of us will get to have dessert.”

You watch as her tongue snakes out, dragging itself up your front. It's squishy and wet, and you giggle as it flicks your chin. Larissa's smile takes up your entire vision. "My sweet girl~"

She gives you a kiss that covers your entire face, then lifts you up higher, dangling you over her maw for just a moment before lowering you in. Her tongue becomes a ramp that cradles you gently until she can right you. You turn onto your stomach and run your hands over the bumps as her pleased hum rumbles around you.

She takes her time lapping at you. She pins you to the roof and gently runs her tongue over you. She feels more than hears your body give a sigh, and it makes her warm. She still can't believe that you enjoy this, probably far more than she does. She won't ever waste the gift that you are. After a few rounds of tasting and swishing you into a cheek when she needs to collect herself, she carefully tilts her head back and swallows.

Her fingers rest at her throat, feeling the bump you make as you're forced down. The moment you land in her second stomach, a sort of pouch that rests on top of her real one, her body floods with a warmth like sipping hot tea on a winter's morning. She melts in her seat, hand over her stomach, feeling you settle in with such a happy noise that she wants to cry.

Her stomach is warm. It welcomes you with a soft gurgle, squishy when you land. Up above you can hear Larissa's heart beating strongly. Down below you can hear the quiet groans of her real stomach. But, best of all, when Larissa moans in content you can feel it vibrate all around you.