It's Always Time

by Oblimo

  "Never mind. Why are you…squirming…like that?"

  "I'm sorry, Galatea, it just feels too damn good." Ursula ran her hands down the inside of her thighs. The bodysuit squeaked. "I don't want to talk about boyfriends right now."

  Galatea broke into a sweat watching Ursula wriggle. "You're, ah, putting on quite a show there."

  "I know," Ursula giggled and sauntered around Galatea. "Every move I make pulls the whole suit across my body." She reached high before curling her arms down to hug her shoulders in one lurid, languid motion as she strutted her stuff in a lazy circle. "I just take a breath and the suit kisses me…everywhere." She scraped her lips down her gel-coated forearm. "I wish I could kiss her back." She sucked on her gloved fingers. "I wish I could kiss her back everywhere…Hey, what's happening? Where's she going?"

  The bodysuit dissolved into a growing green puddle on the floor, leaving Ursula naked and dripping fat droplets of green nectar.

  "I think you really turned her on," Galatea said. Her hair started to drip like melting icicles. "Hell, I got turned on just by watching you two go at it."

  "That was 'going at it'? But I was just walking…No, you're right, it was more than that. It really did feel like sex. Constant, nonstop sex." Ursula pouted. "And I could've done that all night. Hell, I'd've locked myself in my apartment and never come out. Did she like it?"

  The puddle raced away from Ursula in a citrine stream. "I'll remember soon enough," Galatea said as the stream ran up her legs and slurped into her core. Galatea stood still for a moment, then blushed black as night. "Wow." She backpedaled until she crashed like ocean surf against the bedroom wall. "Oh, fuck, wow."

  "Does that mean she liked it?"

  "I liked it," Galatea gulped, her voice dreamy and low. "I fuckin' loved it."

  Ursula grinned and bit her thumb. "What was it like?"

  "Like been carried, cradled." Galatea's body slipped down the wall into a sticky huddle on the floor. "It was…total surrender."

  "I don't understand."

  "Whenever I speak," Galatea said, "whenever I move, when I do anything, it burns some nanomek. It costs me magic," Galatea explained when she saw Ursula's puzzled expression. "I've got a lot of…magic…but I'm spending it all the time, and if I ever really run out, I'm probably gone for good."

  Ursula thought it over. "How do you recharge, then, by ancestral ceremony? Sacrificial rite? Invocation of the gods? Abjuration of angels?"

  "Uh, something like that. I go and fuck Dee's brains out."

  Ursula bit her lip but Galatea could see the laughter in her eyes. "That explains a lot," Ursula said when she caught her breath. "But what does that have to do with me?"

  "When you were wearing me, and I held still while you moved, I didn't burn any magic." Galatea's eyes slid closed as she clutched at her breast and started to ramble. "But I could still feel you—taste you, touch you, smell you—and you pulled me and pushed me and stretched me and…and fucked me. There's no better word for it. You were touching every part of me. I had no core, no reserve, no backup, no body, just you, you, you, everywhere. I could feel your tits bounce and you pussy drip and your ass rock and your legs swing, and when you put me into your mouth…I came, and came, and came apart."

  Galatea pulled her gluey eyes open. Ursula stood stark naked before her, face flushed, lips wetted and parted. "Galatea…"

  "I could use some ice," Galatea said, her tremulous tone on the verge of hysterics. "You want some ice?" She squelched toward the bedroom door, leaving a wake of mint icing. "I think I'll go get some ice."

  Ursula flopped onto fluffy, green-stained quilt. "It's the story of my life," she groaned. "After years of searching and hoping and waiting, I finally experience my first supernatural encounter. The sex is amazing, but she turns out to be only bi-curious."

  Galatea turned in the doorway, her frown pensive and sympathetic. "Oh, Ursula, I'm sorry. Are you angry? You don't sound angry."

  "It's okay," Ursula said, rolling onto her back, her legs dangling so her toes dusted the floor. "I'm used to it by now. Almost. But it would never work out between us anyway."

  "Why not?" Galatea's brow crinkled in confusion for a second before Ursula kicked a dollop of green icing right between her eyes.

  "You’re a slob," Ursula gibed, giggling until Galatea licked her eyebrows clean with a forking pair of tongues. "Damn, girl."

  "I guess you won't be wanting lesson five then," Galatea said, her sibilants hissing long like a cartoon snake's.

  "No need to be hasty," Ursula said, sitting up. "If the you out there fucking Dee is anything like the you in here fucking me, there's plenty of time."

  Galatea harrumphed, "I need ice," and marched down the hallway.

  "Just what are you doing here anyway?" Ursula hollered after her.

  "I came for a catfight." The whirring clatter of the kitchen icemaker started up. "You know, like on those talk shows: 'Stay away from my man, you slut!' That sorta thing."

  "What? Why?"

  "Made perfect sense when I was plastered. Hm, outta ice. Do you have any in the freezer?" Ursula heard the freezer door clunk open. "Holy shit, look at all this crap! What's in all the Tupperware?"

  Ursula scrunched her nose. "Soup. I'm on a kind of soup kick lately. Last month was vegetable and bisque. I've moved onto fruit."

  A plastic top popped. "What's the frozen purple stuff?" Galatea asked.

  "Probably borsht." Ursula rubbed the bridge of her nose with the palm of her hand. "Could be plum coulis."

  Something thunked onto a countertop. "Any ingredients from SRU in either?"

  "No." Ursula massaged the sinus pressure points below her eyes for a moment before perking up. "Hey, wait a minute. How did you know the name of my Internet wholesaler?"

  "Educated guess." Ursula heard something slap and slop. "Guh—Woo!"

  "What are you doing to my borsht?"

  "Mm. It's the plum. And you don't wanna know."

  Ursula shook her head, then cradled it in her hands. "Ow. Galatea, I don't know if I'm up for lesson five. I think I'm getting a sinus headache."

  "It's not a sinus headache," Galatea's voice drifted over the sounds of Tupperware being resealed and restacked in the freezer. "Don't worry, though. It won't last long."

  Ursula squeezed her temples. "But why did it start?"

  "Because lesson five is starting." Galatea glided into the room, her green, frosty gel-flesh sporting a purple patina like the rind of an avocado. "And I'm permeating your blood-brain barrier."

  Ursula gawked. "What? Why?"

  Galatea affected a professorial cough. "Ahem. Lesson five: the mindfuck."

  The pain ringing Ursula’s skull vanished into a heavy, beery buzz. She keeled to the left but propped herself up against an iron bedpost. "Oh, shit."

  Galatea swooped in to stand a few feet from the foot of the bed, her starlit eyes dancing over Ursula’s face. "So that’s what getting drunk is supposed to feel like? I think I’ll stick with the green stuff."

  The world wobbled worse when she shut her eyes so Ursula kept them peeled. She picked out her panicky reflection looking back at her from the vanity mirror on the other side of Galatea’s translucent, purple-green shoulder. "You can read my mind."

  Galatea squinted, focusing her gaze somewhere directly behind Ursula’s nose. "No, not really. Just hindbrain echoes. You didn’t swallow enough nanomek, enough magic, I guess. Thirsty?"

  “No,” Ursula said with a sloppy shrug. Galatea arched an eyebrow. Ursula blinked and swallowed. “Yes,” she choked out, clasping her throat. "Christ, yes."

  Galatea smirked and pressed forward, pursing her gelid lips against Ursula’s right ear, her breasts brushing Ursula’s naked lap with a deliciously cool, powdery weight. "How thirsty?" she purred, the frozen floe of her breath skating down Ursula’s neck.

  Ursula’s mouth worked but no words came out. Galatea shushed her, resting her chin on Ursula’s shoulder. Icicled hair skimmed her chest and back. "Don�
�t worry, little girl," Galatea whispered between quick freezing kisses on the curve of Ursula’s skull behind her ear. “You may still say 'Pygmalion'." Galatea pried Ursula’s hand off the bedpost, slid it down her chilled gel-flesh and planted it on the slope of her ass. "If you want to."

  Ursula trembled in silence.

  "Good," Galatea said. She nudged Ursula prone onto the bed, spanning over the Goth girl like a bridge of arctic ice. Ursula's trembling grew violent as she felt the slithery gel grow and expand beneath her hand. "Because you're sooo thirsty, and hungry, now, too, aren't you? Ah, but those words are too plain, too weak for what you're feeling now." Ursula shut her tearing eyes. "You feel emptied. Not in the way your pussy gets when you're desperately horny—the swollen, greedy pit between your legs. You feel…hollow with hunger." Galatea stretched higher until a nipple, purple as a plum and pearling with wine-dark nectar, brushed against Ursula's shivering lips just hard enough to splash a tiny droplet between Ursula's parted teeth and onto her tongue.

  Ursula’s eyes rolled back behind fluttering lids. Mindless and whimpering, she wrapped her arms around Galatea’s suspended back and dragged herself up. She latched onto the engorged nipple above her mouth, burying her head in Galatea's lush breast until jellied flesh clogged her ears and filled the world with her own pounding heartbeat and the taste of—

  "'Ambrosia,'" Galatea sighed in Ursula's voice as Ursula drank, and drank, and drank. The word thrummed through the green girl's inner gel. "Promise you'll give me the recipe for your plum coulis after dinner, okay?"

  Between swallows, Ursula went, "Mmf."

  "No," Galatea chuckled, "for some reason I can't read or direct the part of your mind that cooks. Go figure. Maybe if you drank more, drank faster—Oh, oh my. You didn't need any h-help with that idea…"

  "Mm," Ursula agreed, blush nectar dribbling down her chin. A few overeager swallows later and she fell back, her lips painted in pink-purple honey but her face scrunched in pain. "Nnf!"

  "No," Galatea laughed again, "that's not me; I've opened enough ion channels already." She contracted her arcing back a bit to look Ursula in the eye. "It's just an ice cream headache. Relax." She patted Ursula on her gurgling belly. "Just relax and let me in your mind some more. All you need to do is trust me. You can trust me. I'll prove it. You can't speak, can you?"

  Ursula opened her mouth but nothing came out so she shook her head. "Nnf."

  "But you can say the safe word. Try it, if you wish. It won't count, this one time."

  Ursula grinned. "Pygmalion."

  Galatea returned her sweet smile. "So you trust me."

  Ursula nodded and closed her eyes.

  "Good. Headache gone? Good. Now relax." Ursula felt Galatea's heavy tits press against hers and drag slowly up her chest and neck, nipples weeping an icy trail of plum-and-citrus ambrosia across her skin. "And let me in some more." Unwilling to wait, Ursula heaved a breast to her lips and pressed the nipple against the roof of her mouth with her tongue until it expressed a trickle of ambrosia down her throat. "Mm, a little more." Ursula sucked the wide areola into her mouth and the trickle became a steady stream. "A, a l-little more."

  Ursula reached up, snaked a hand over Galatea's stomach, and sank a couple of fingers into the green girl's pussy. Galatea's innermost gel was as molten as her ambrosia was frozen. Ursula pulled her fingers free, smeared the searing honey over their tips before running them over the lips of her own sex, never stopping the rhythm of her suckle.

  "Oh, holy shit, yes," Galatea grunted. She slammed her gooey pelvis down. Ursula ground her sex up against it. The ice of Galatea's ambrosia and the fire of Galatea's pussy collided somewhere deep inside Ursula's body and being, churning until the boundaries between the sensations of cold and heat, the concepts of mind and body, and even the identities of "Ursula" and "Galatea" dissolved and lost all meaning to the Goth girl, leaving nothing but the rush-and-gush of multiple orgasm. "Let me in a whole fucking lot more, and I'll mindfuck you straight into the fucking loony bin."

  Ursula floated on air. "That was incredible."

  "Did you cum?" Galatea asked.

  "Well, duh, yeah," Ursula said, "but…"

  "But what?"

  "It's weird," Ursula reflected. "It was either the fastest, hardest orgasm I've ever had in my life, or a bunch of little climaxes that seemed to go on, I don't know, for about a hundred years. I can't tell which…"

  "That's because it's still happening," Galatea said.

  Ursula drifted closer. "What?"

  "Look down, little girl."

  Ursula swiveled her attention downward. The gauzy white top of her bed canopy hung a few feet below her. Dropping her focus down through the canopy lace, Ursula spied Galatea, the green girl with the proportions of a porn-starlet and the height of a pro-league basketball player, writhing on the mattress beneath. Galatea's translucent curves played optical tricks on the much paler, leaner, and shorter girl thrashing under them, making the girl's limbs appear almost as boneless and bendable as Galatea's own.

  "Oh my God," Ursula said, "I've been fucked right out of my body."

  "Sorta," said Galatea, her voice coming from somewhere between Ursula's ears, or where Ursula's ears would have been if her point of view still coincided with her eyes. "You've entered an ecstatic trance. You're much stronger than you give yourself credit for. There's some serious shamanic mojo in here."

  "Where? Where are you?"

  "Inside you."

  "Where inside me?"

  "Everywhere."

  On the bed, Ursula's arms clasped Galatea's back tight enough to break the surface tension and sink into the glue of the green girl's inner gel. "Ooh," Galatea's disembodied voice murmured, "I'm so glad I taught you lesson two." Galatea's body on the bed threw back its head and howled. "I love the feel of something solid inside me."

  Ursula hovered higher. "If we're down there," she said, "why are we also up here?"

  "You and I need to have a little talk."

  "Can't you just read my mind?"

  "That's what I'm doing now," Galatea explained. "But you're too powerful for me to just take what I want. And I wouldn't be much of a friend if I did."

  Ursula followed her lead. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

  "Your soap, for a start. What does it do?"

  "By itself, nothing," Ursula confessed. "But I always keep a little of the base left over from each batch I make, and I bathe with it, too, so I've got a sympathetic link to whoever uses it in case I need one. The law of contagion, you see, is a keystone force in sympathetic magic…and I don't need to explain how magic works to a mind-reading, six foot tall girl made of green goo, do I?"

  "Not really," Galatea admitted, "although I bet there's a lot you can teach me. I don't know how I know the things I know, but I must at least half-remember the things I don't know, because I know enough to know I don't know them, you know?"

  "No."

  "Oh. Besides, I'm six-foot-six, usually, thank you very much. Dee likes to look up into my eyes. Usually. Anyway," Galatea continued, "who've you given the soap to?"

  "Let's see," Ursula said, ticking off the list with imaginary fingers, "Granddad, my mom and dad, my big brother—to keep tabs on them. Diane and Joy from work—Oh, and that girl who works at the Starbucks because she's got a great…uh, personality. And I tried to give some to Bee, because he worries me."

  "Bee?"

  Ursula nodded, or at least the focus of her vision bobbed up and down. "Your downstairs neighbor. Quiet guy, very intense. He wouldn't take any soap. Wow," Ursula added, distracted, "look at us down there. We're still cumming."

  "Why did you offer Bee soap?"

  "Like I said, I worry about him. Hasn't he complained about the racket you and Dee make yet? If I were your downstairs neighbor, I'd be calling the cops so I could get some sleep."

  "Is that why you gave some to Dee?" Galatea asked, unfazed. "Because he worried you?"

  "No," Ursula said. "Because Dee terrifie
d me."

  "Good," Galatea said. "But did you know why?"

  "No," Ursula said again. "He's gabby, friendly, and utterly clueless. Most straight women I know think he's charming and disarming, but after a few months of waiting for him to make a move, they add 'frustrating' or 'infuriating' to the list."

  "That's not terrifying," Galatea pointed out. "That's just geeky."

  "True. On the night he set up my computer, I saw him disappear into his work. Have you ever seen Dee get worked up about something? Well, as he was assembling all the boards and wires and junk, he got this, this look, and at first I thought he was acting very quiet and intense—very Bee-like, actually—but then I noticed he wasn't the one getting quiet and intense, not really. It was the air around him, the room, and even the noise from outside. Hell, it was me. I was getting quiet and intense, just watching him make some dumb machine. If he were a girl I would've whacked off thinking about it when he left. No wonder some women at his office follow him around with their tongues hanging out. Galatea, you've never let me talk this long without making a joke or making me cum or something."

  "Oh, I'm taking it out on your body, believe me," Galatea hissed, "It just had its fourth consecutive breast orgasm. But keep talking or I'll make you cum so hard you won't be able to sit in a chair for months."

  "If more people released their aggression by making other people cum," Ursula observed, "I think the world would be a much better place. Have you ever mindfucked Dee?"

  "Nope," Galatea snapped. "Can't."

  "Why not?"

  "His nanomek won't let me."

  "You mean his magic won't let you," Ursula translated.

  "Yeah," Galatea said, uncertain. "I guess I do."

  "Then, if you ever see Dee work, you'll know what I mean. But that wasn't what scared me. When he was finished, he looked up, looked me straight in the eye and said, 'It is done.' And that's what terrified me. His voice…'It is done'…it was like a pronouncement from God. God, that sounds stupid."

  "Not really," Galatea said, her disembodied voice managing to sound meek. "Not to me, anyway."