Skin Art
Sequel to ‘Banzai’
by Czolgolz
[email protected]

It had been a slow day at the ‘Skin Art Tattoos and Piercings’ parlor.  Just one hairy biker requesting yet another Harley logo and a couple of Goth girls getting their tongues skewered.  I turned the sign in the window to ‘closed,’ and dimmed the lights.  I regarded the closet sized waiting room as I cleaned up.  Just a couch, a few books of pictures that I could permanently etch on your flesh, and a display counter containing various pieces of metal that my partner, Jenna, could stick into the appendage of your choice.  Dominating the waiting area was a large sign that contained the answer to the question we were asked several times a day:  Yes, it will hurt.

Jenna had once again knocked off early, leaving me to sweep and lock up.  As I pulled on my rubber gloves and prepared to scrub down the bloody floor of my work area, I heard the bell on the door ring.

“Sorry, we’re closed,” I said over my shoulder.  

“C’mon, Jimmy, is that a way to greet an old friend?”

I did a double take.  She obviously knew me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place her.  She looked to be in her twenties, with long black hair, pale skin, and a good figure.  She was conservatively dressed and quite frankly, looked rather out of place in a body art studio.  

“I’m sorry, your name is…?”

She snorted.  “How soon they forget.  Maybe this will jog your memory.”  She lifted her shirt, revealing her bare belly.  There, across her stomach, was a tattoo of part of a snake’s body.  I remembered it well, I had done it.  I knew it started on top of her breasts, ran down her side, across her stomach, and down her right leg.  I looked at her face again.

“My God…Rose?”

She shook her head.  “At last!  Jesus, Jimmy, took you long enough.”  She pecked my cheek.

“I’m sorry, Rose, I just didn’t recognize you dressed like that.”  It was no exaggeration.  Last time I had seen her, she was wearing fishnet stockings, a leather mini, and a halter-top.  She was a prostitute.  Of course that had been a few years ago.

She seemed to read my thoughts.  “Maybe if I had come in naked I’d have looked more like you remembered?”  I started to protest.  “Don’t sweat it, Jimmy.  To tell you the truth, I’m more than happy to leave that period in my life behind.  I’ve gotten out of the business.”

“Jesus, that’s wonderful!” I babbled.  I wasn’t exaggerating.  Last year the cops had called me into the morgue to identify the body of a hooker.  They had asked me because a tattoo I had done was about the only recognizable part left of her.  From that day on I realized the term ‘victimless crime’ didn’t apply to prostitution, and I was rather glad Rose had gotten out when she did.

“At any rate,” she continued, “We were in the area, and I thought I’d say hi.”

“We?”

Rose grinned slyly and held up her left hand, displaying her wedding band.

“No!”  I gaped.

“You bet.  He’s parking the car.  He’s a hell of a guy…oh, here he is now.”

The door jangled again, and a short, muscle-bound Asian man strolled in.  He was a handsome fellow, whose easy-going good looks were somewhat spoiled by his darting, rather unsettling eyes.  He wore a crew cut, and an expensive suit that couldn’t hide how compactly built and muscular he was.  I stopped smiling.

“A Goddamned chink!”  I spat.

Rose’s smile turned to shock.  “What did you just say?” her husband asked, calmly.
“I said, you yellow bastard, that I don’t like your kind in here.”

Rose’s shock turned to fury.  “C’mon, Omi, let’s get out of here.”  She took her husband by the arm.  Omi, however, didn’t budge.  “No, I want to hear what he has to say.  You got some kind of problem with me?”

“Yeah, I got a problem.  I don’t like Japs.”

“Jimmy, what the hell has gotten into you?” screamed Rose.

Omi removed his jacket, revealing bulging biceps that his shirt couldn’t conceal.  “Maybe your ‘friend’ just needs a good beating to set him straight,” he said, deadly calm.

I cracked my knuckles.  “Any time you think you’re man enough!”  Omi roared and lunged at me.  Then we laughed and embraced.

“Omi, you old war horse, why the hell didn’t you tell me you’d gotten hitched?”

“You’re not an easy man to find, Jimbo,” replied Omi, struggling to get me in a headlock.

Rose’s look of horror turned to one of comprehension, then one of anger.  “You two know each other?”

I elbowed Omi in the gut.  “U of MO, freshman year.  We were roomies.”  Rose nodded, then smacked Omi across the face.  My laughter was stifled when she nailed me with the backswing.

“That’s for scaring me, you idiots.”  She paused and looked at us, as we simultaneously rubbed our cheeks.  “Wait a minute…freshman year?  My God, you’re that Jimmy?”  She giggled.

Omi was looking at me as well.  “Hang on, if you knew Rose…Jesus, Jim the tattoo guy is you?”  Both of them were having trouble keeping their laughter inside.

Chagrined that they had both been telling embarrassing stories about me, unaware that they were talking about the same person, I attempted to change the subject.

“So what have you guys been doing with yourselves?”

Rose related how they had, oddly enough, met when they were both working for the circus.  They had married shortly after, and were now running a chain of hardware stores.  Though I outwardly congratulated them on their success, inwardly I felt the old bitterness welling up.  Two more old friends, happily married and doing a hell of a lot better than I was.

Omi and Rose were meeting some people and couldn’t stay long.  We exchanged phone numbers and arranged to get together the following weekend.  Just before they left, I asked them what they had done in the circus.

“I sold popcorn,” laughed Rose.  “But Omi, he was the knife man.  Juggling, stunts, all kinds of amazing things.”  Her eyes drifted wistfully.  Perhaps that was what had attracted her to Omi in the first place.

“Knives, eh?  I remember how back in school you were always screwing around with blades.  Still got that weird switchblade?”

Omi grinned, and flicked the knife out of his pocket.  I remembered it well.  It was the oddest contraption.  It looked like a normal switchblade, but when the blade was extended, it was nearly three feet long.  I’d spent many hours trying to wheedle the secret out of Omi, but he was close-mouthed on the subject.

Omi, the perpetual show-off, flipped out the knife’s amazingly long blade.  “Still doing the same old magic trick,” I chuckled, trying to hide my amazement.  

“Oh, I’ve learned a couple of new ones over the years,” my former roommate replied.  He exchanged a cryptic glance with Rose.  “For instance…” Omi positioned himself behind his wife.  Then, without warning, he thrust the sword right through her.  

I staggered back.  The point emerged a good two feet in front of her, sticking out from between her skirt and blouse.  Rose winked, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  It must have been a trick.  

Omi, of course, couldn’t leave it at that.  Taking the handle in one hand and the tip in the other, he rotated the weapon in a circle, until the handle and blade had exchanged places.  Rose closed her eyes, leaned back her head, and moaned.  I must have been mistaken, but she seemed rather aroused.  

Omi withdrew the knife.  Flipping the catch, the blade instantly retreated back into its impossibly small sheath.

I couldn’t help but show how impressed I was.  “How the hell did you do that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” mocked Omi, as he slid his arm tightly around Rose’s waist.  Rose draped her arm around his neck.

“You bast…” I froze.  While Rose’s upper half was still next to Omi, her legs and hips began to walk towards me by themselves.  I hollered and jumped backwards in horror.  I blinked, but the image was still there.  Rose’s lower portion lazily walking a circle around the waiting room magazine table.  Rose and Omi giggling at me, Rose’s upper half being supported by Omi’s arm around her waist.

This wasn’t happening.  I never in my wildest dreams considered the possibility that the sword through Rose had been anything but an illusion.  

I guess Rose realized how upset I was, because her legs wandered back over underneath her.  She then arched her back until her head seemed to almost touch the floor.  Her top rode up and exposed her now complete stomach.  “Pretty amazing, eh?” she said as she stood up.

“…How?”  was the only word I could spit out.

“I told you, magic,” laughed Omi.  

Rose kissed him.  “He’s a master.  The first time he divided me I knew I’d always be his.”

“Gaaah,” I stammered.

“Well, it was nice to see you,” chirped Rose, like nothing had happened.  “We have to get going now.”  She tried to kiss me, but I jerked back, still in shock.  Just who were these people?

As soon as the door jingled closed behind them, I slammed the dead bolt home and turned off the lights.  Then I grabbed a bottle of medicinal alcohol and took a swig.

What the hell had just happened?  That was no illusion.  If they had done it on stage with weeks of preparation, I might have believed that.  But performing that impromptu, in an unfamiliar setting, that close…maybe Omi had hypnotized me.  Or was I hallucinating?  My head swam, I felt like vomiting.

“You okay?”  At the sound of Omi’s voice I dropped the bottle and fell off my stool.  Omi had appeared behind me in the dark.  I didn’t bother to ask him how he had gotten past the locked door.

“No, as a matter of fact I’m not OK!  That’s a hell of a think to spring on a guy!”

“Yeah.”  He was grinning at my discomfort.

“I lived with you for over a year.  How come you never told me?”

“I was a novice back then.  You’d have just badgered me to teach you how to do tricks.”

Beg pardon?  “You could teach me?”  My horror forgotten, I began to get interested.

“Teach you, no.  But I might be able to loan  you a trick or two, if you’d like.”

I eagerly nodded.  The shock was wearing off.  Imagined myself positioned over a lovely woman in a box, deftly sawing her in two.  I could see how certain people might find that erotic.

Omi pressed something into my hand.  To my disappointment, it wasn’t his knife.  What it was was a small black sphere, about the size of a Milk Dud.  “What’s this?”

“It’s a magic pill.  If you can find a woman to swallow it, the results are amazing.”

I chomped at the bit.  “What?”

“Ah, you’ll have to see for yourself.”  He turned to go.  “Oh, and Jim…”

“Yeah?” my mind was already guessing at what the pill could do.

“Be careful who you give that to.  She’ll come to no harm, but, as you might have guessed, the results can be a little frightening.  Rose is one of the coolest customers I’ve ever known, and even she had a panic attack when I first showed her…let’s just say the possibilities.”

I grunted, half listening.  I was going to perform magic!  Real magic!  My imagination soared, I didn’t even realize it when Omi left, as silently as he had entered.  
I remembered watching Doug Henning on television as a child, when I was still gullible enough to believe it wasn’t faked.  All throughout my childhood I had wanted to be a magician.  As I got older I lost track of the old dream, for the same reason kids stop wanting to be Superman:  if a dream is impossible, it’s not as fun to fantasize.

But here the old feelings came back to me.  I felt like a sorcerer, like David Copperfield or Blackstone.  What amazing thing would happen when I gave the pill to my lovely assistant?

I lunged for the phone, wondering who would still be awake.  Then it hit me.  There was no one I could call.  True, there were a half-dozen or so girls I could convince to come over at that time of night.  They’d probably even gulp the pill, if I asked nicely enough.  But what then?

I had no idea what results would come from this strange little ball.  Would the woman turn invisible?  Shrink?  Grow?  Morph into an animal?  Levitate?  Then what?

I flipped through my mental Rolodex and came up with zip.  There was not a woman I knew who wouldn’t have a screaming panic attack if any of that happened to them.  Omi was right, it would take a special kind of woman not to go bonkers about being suddenly transformed.

Despondently, I flopped down on the tattoo table.  Wasn’t there anyone I knew with an open mind and fanciful disposition?  Anyone who could accept something amazing happening to them without panic?

My glance fell of the piercing gun on my partner’s table.  Jenna?  Jenna!  I jumped up, feeling like the eighth grade boy who suddenly realizes that his life time friend is also a girl, and a pretty one at that.  Jenna!  Of course.  I imagined my twenty-year-old partner who took care of the piercing half of the business.  She was about as occult as they come, a firm believer in UFOs, strange phenomena, and psychics.  A week didn’t go by that I wasn’t subject to a lecture about some odd happening only covered by the Fortean Times and the Weekly World News.  She had an open mind, she’d do it!

There was just one problem.  We didn’t really like each other.  We tolerated each other at work, but frequently descended into sniping and bickering when customers were not around.  In over a year of partnership, I had never had the desire to do anything socially with her, and I’m assuming she felt likewise.

I couldn’t put my finger on the reason of our mutual dislike.  I guess we just had always rubbed each other the wrong way.  Would she even consider participating in this crazy experiment?  Only one was to find out.

I dialed her number.  She answered on the fifteenth ring.  “Whattdayawant?” she
mumbled, sleepily.

“Jenna, it’s me.  You have to come down to the shop right now!”

“Up yours.  Look, whatever mess I left behind, I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“No, you don’t understand.  Something amazing has happened!  Get over here now!

“What happened?” she grumbled, still not awake.

“I can’t say over the phone.  Trust me, you won’t want to miss this.”

“Fine.  But if I’m not bowled over, I’m taking the week off.”  As owner of the building, I was nominally her boss.

“You won’t be disappointed,” I retorted, but the line had already gone dead.

I spent the next half-hour straightening up the little used storage room in back.  I decided that’s where I’d perform the trick, away from any windows.  I felt that I should make more preparations, but Omi hadn’t seemed to think that was necessary.

The dinging of the door chime let me know that Jenna had arrived.  I rushed out to meet her.  She looked exhausted and pissed off.  She had thrown on a pair of cut-off shorts and a man’s T-shirt.  She wore no shoes.  Not that that was the extent of what she was wearing.  As a piercing junkie, she sported a few pounds of metal about her body: so many earrings I often thought her ears would just pop off her head, a nose ring, three eye brow rings, a stud in her tongue, a pierced lower lip, navel, and, she had mentioned, pierced nipples.  I had no idea what her true hair color was, as she changed it every week.  She also sported a few tattoos, mostly done by yours truly.  I guessed that she weighed 90 pounds, soaking wet.

“So what is this ‘amazing thing’ that couldn’t have possibly waited until tomorrow?”

“Jenna, remember when you told me that you’d always wanted to have a supernatural experience?”

“So?” she asked, guardedly.

“Tonight might be your chance.”  Though she didn’t comment, I noticed a slight glimmer of interest in her eyes.  She had once traveled to New Mexico to hunt for UFOs and had spent many evenings in local ‘haunted’ houses, trying to catch a glimpse of a phantom.  She eagerly glommed on to anything promising contact with strange phenomena.

I lead her into the back room.  “Here,” I said, holding the pill out to her.

“What is it?”

“A magic pill.  A friend of mine gave it to me.  He said something amazing would happen to the person who took it.”

Jenna rudely shoved my hand away.  “How many time times to I have to tell you, I’m not into the drug scene.  I didn’t think you were either.”

“No, it’s not like that.  It’s real magic.  I got this from an honest to God wizard!”

Jenna took the pill from me.  “You know, Jim, sometimes I wonder if your parents didn’t drop you on your head as a child.  Magic pill?  Did he sell you some magic beans to go with it?”

“I swear to you, this is the real thing.  He’s a friend of mine, and if you’d seen what I saw tonight, you’d have no doubts.”

Jenna looked at me for a long time.  “Jim, if anyone else was trying to get me to do this, I’d tell them where to go.  But you lack the mental capacity to pull of an elaborate practical joke, you’re smart enough not to slip me a drug unawares, and who knows?  Maybe you’re not as gullible as you seem.  I’ll do it.  Any bad side effects, and I take my vengeance out of your hide.”  I gulped.  She weighed maybe half of what I did, but I still feared to see her with her dander up.  I hoped Omi knew what he was doing.

Filling a cup with water, she downed the pill.  Then she sat down contemptuously.  
“So what’s supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You don’t know?”  She looked furious.  “That’s just great.”

“So is anything happening?”  Boy, would I feel like a dick if my big buildup resulted in no results.  Maybe I wasn’t capable of a huge practical joke, but I wondered about Omi.

A few seconds later, I noticed Jenna rubbing her stomach.  “Are you okay?”

“A little uncomfortable.  Are you sure…” she stopped, mid-sentence, grasping her stomach.  “Oh my God!”

“What, what’s wrong?”

Jenna hiked up her shirt and I saw.  Her belly was rapidly expanding outwards.  She looked as if she were six months pregnant, and getting larger by the second.

“Jim, what the hell did you do to me?”  she cried.  Her belly continued its growth.  But it wasn’t just her belly.  Her back and sides were expanding as well.  From my vantage point it was easy to see what was happening.

“Jenna,” I whispered, awed.  “The pill, it’s expanding inside you.”

Jenna gasped, and yanked off her shirt in a panic.  Despite the desperate nature of the situation, I didn’t fail to notice that she had been going bra-less, and that her talk of having her nipples pierced was more that a ruse.

Jenna now looked as if she had swallowed an  inflated beach ball, which had retained its shape, while stretching her body along its contours.  Jenna’s stomach, lower back, and butt were now completely rounded.  Features like her navel and spine looked painted on.

The pill continued to grow.  Jenna’s limbs began to shorten, disappearing as the skin stretched around the now enormous ball inside her.  Her shorts slid off, her thighs no longer there to hold them on.

“Jim!” she screamed.  “Help me!  Make it stop!”

I grabbed her hand, shortly before her transformation would cause it to vanish.  “Calm down.  You’re going to be OK.  You’ll be back to normal, soon.”

“Promise?”  Only her hands, feet, and head were unchanged.

“I promise.”  With that, the ball expanded past her height.  She was now completely spherical.

But the expansion didn’t stop.  She continued to inflate until she was almost to the ceiling.  I began to worry.  What if she grew bigger than the room could contain?  What if she burst?

Then it was over.  Jenna now took up nearly the entire storage room.  A perfect sphere, nearly nine feet in diameter.

Her clothes gone, her only covering was her elastic underwear, which had somehow stayed on and stretched along with her.  There was no sign of her legs or feet.  I noticed ten red spots on either side of her, five on each side.  I realized with a start that they were her toenails, the only recognizable features left in her lower half.

Above her panty line, a recognized her navel ring, poking out of the tiny wrinkle which was all that remained of her belly button.  Above that lay her nipples.  They had no depth to them, they could have been tattoos.  The rings stood erect, stuck into her gently curving flesh.  Several feet to the right lay her fingernails, all that was left of her hands.

Her head was the most interesting part.  At the zenith of the flesh colored sphere lay a shock of bright blue hair.  Off to the sides, a cluster of earrings surrounded the openings of what once were her ears.  Nothing was left of her nose but her nostrils and the ring that connected them.  Her eyes seemed normal enough.  Filled with shock, they continued to blink.  Her lips were silently pinched together.  I wondered if she could still speak.

“Jenna?”  I ventured.

“Jim…what just happened?”  Her voice was strained, as if she was speaking from inside a too-tight corset.

“The pill, er, sort of expanded.  Like one of those self-inflating rubber rafts.  You expanded with it.”

She blinked, about the only action she could still accomplish.  “Bring me a mirror.”

I left and rapidly returned with the wall mirror used to show customers their new back and shoulder tattoos.

Realizing that her eyes were now too high off the ground for her to gaze into the mirror, I placed my hands on what had once been her lower back and rolled her forward.  Her skin still had the same warmth and texture of human skin.  It just no longer had the bumps and contours of a woman’s body.  What’s more, the skin yielded to my touch.  It was like rolling a large, inflatable ball.  There seemed to be nothing under her skin but air.

As Jenna gazed into the mirror, I took the opportunity to study her condition further.  Her transformation into a balloon hadn’t distorted her features.  Her tattoos, scars, and freckles stayed the same size, just further away from each other.

“Jim?  Jim, is this really happening?”

“Yes.  This is true magic.”

“I don’t know whether to be ecstatic or petrified.”

“Be happy.  You’ve always wanted to have an otherworldly experience.  I think this qualifies.”

“Jim, you’ve turned me into a parade balloon.  I can’t move.  Bring me back to normal, then I’ll be happy.”

My stomach knotted, just a little.  Omi hadn’t said anything about a reversal.  I had just assumed that the trick would kind of work itself out.  I think Jenna sensed my unease.

“You do know how to deflate me, right?” she asked, angrily.

“Um…well, no.”

“No?  Jim, I have plans for tomorrow night and they involve mobility and limbs.  You said your friend gave you this trick.  Call him.  Now.”

Trying not to betray how nervous I was, I went back to the front and called Omi’s number.  No answer.

“What did he say?” Jenna barked upon my return.

“He wasn’t there.”

“Jim, someday I’m going to get my body back.  For your sake, you better be living in another country under an assumed name.”

“Don’t yell at me!  I didn’t invent the trick.”

“You told me nothing bad would happen, and now I’m a human beach toy!”

Gently, I rolled Jenna toward me, until her face was at eye level.  Using a tattoo on her back as a guide, I placed my hands on what I thought would have been her shoulders.

“Jenna, that promise still holds true.  Omi, my friend, won’t be gone forever.  He’ll know what to do.  C’mon, won’t spending a couple of hours like this be worth experiencing true wizardry?”

“Again, turn me back  to normal, then we’ll talk.”  But she seemed just a little less annoyed.

I began to think.  You almost never see magician transform someone without setting them right later.  If I had sawn her in half, I’d simply reconnect the two pieces, like Rose and Omi had.  If I had stuck a sword through her, I’d just remove it.  But this?  I’d never seen anything like on any magic program.

An idea hit me.  “Jenna, what if I were to stick you with the tattoo needle?  Maybe the air would rush out.”

“Nothing doing!  You know what happens when you pop an over-inflated balloon.  There’d be pieces of me everywhere.”

I continued to ponder.  “You know how balloons loose their air if you leave them in a hot car?  If we turned up the heat…”

“Jim, I now you’re trying to help, but you obviously have no idea what to do.  And stop staring at my breasts!”  Abashed, I looked away.  How did one let the air out of a balloon, while keeping the balloon intact?  Too bad Jenna didn’t come with a valve or something I could slowly release the air through.

A valve?  Hmmm.  Reaching down, I took hold of Jenna’s navel ring.

“What are you doing?  Hey, that tickles!”  I slid the ring out of her skin.  A faint hissing sound ensued.  When I put my hand over her tummy I could feel a slight rush of air.

“Jim!  I think it’s working!”  Jenna sounded much less concerned than a few minutes ago.

Within seconds I had removed her earrings, nose ring, eyebrow rings, and lip stud (I knew better than to touch the ones in her chest).  Soon the effects of the released air made themselves visible.  Her fingers and toes began to reform under her nails.  Her head began to rise out of her body.  The whole process took less than five minutes.  Jenna, completely restored, laid on the floor…as flat and limp as an uninflated rubber woman.

“Jim…”  Wordlessly, I bent the mirror over her, showing her what she had now become.  I then picked her up by the top of her head and carried her into my work area.  Laying her on the table, I flattened her out as best I could.

This was all so surreal.  Just a few hours ago I would have scoffed at the possibility of any of this happening, and yet…here it was.

Jenna, despite her return to a more normal state of things, still couldn’t move.  “Can I get you anything?” I asked, stupidly.

“Yeah.  Get my shirt and cover up my chest.  Christ, I hope you’re not that obvious in public.”   I quickly complied.

Conversation died at that point, as we sat around waiting for Omi to get back.  I looked at Jenna’s now two-dimensional form.  Suddenly, I began to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she shouted, wrathfully.

“You.  You are.  You look like you’ve been hit by a steamroller.”  I knew it was rude, but she did.

“Damn you, Jim, I’m going to kill you.”  I think she meant it.

“C’mon, you have to see the humor in this.  You’ll be back to normal by morning.  Don’t you find this the least amusing?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s real funny.”  

I pressed on, oblivious of the consequences.  “Maybe I won’t restore you.  I’ll just hang you in the lobby to show off my work.”

“I’m warning you, Jim.”

“Or, if I can’t get a hold of Omi, I’ll mail you directly.  You’ll fold up nicely now.”

Suddenly, Jenna began giggling.  “See, told you you’d see the humor in this.”

“It’s not that.  I just figured if your friend Omi has one trick, he’d have more.”

I was a little surprised.  “You mean you want me to do something like this to you again?”

“Nope.  I want to do something like this to you, bucko.  And don’t even think about refusing.”

I groaned, but not unhappily.  She was right.  Turnabout was fair play.  I’m sure Omi would think of something interesting for me.  If only he’d get home.  I tried his number again, but no answer.

“You know, Jenna, maybe we were on the right track before.  What if I were to try and reinflate you?”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve got an old bike pump back at my house…”

“Don’t leave me alone like this.  Is there anything around here?”

“Only…no, nothing.”

“Only what?”

“Well, I was thinking that if I were to inflate a beach ball, it would be with my mouth, but…”

“Might as well give it a try.  If you tell anyone, I’ll break your knee caps.”

“Um…where should I inflate?”

“Might as well be through my mouth.”  I paused.  I knew Jenna was anxious to get back to normal, but I couldn’t help but realize the vaguely physical overtones of what I was about to do.  Still, I could at least try.  It might not even work.

As I positioned my mouth above hers, I began to feel regret.  All of a sudden, I wanted to keep her in her flattened state for a while longer.  This was by far the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me, and I was sorry to see it end.  Still, Jenna was likely to make good on her promise to try a trick out on me, so maybe we had a lot more of this sort of thing in store for us.  Pressing my lips to hers, I formed a seal and blew.

Instantly, I could tell it was going to work.  The air in my lungs flowed easily into her oral cavity.  After several breaths, she began to expand.  After several more, I could tell she was returning back to her original state.  Not like an inflatable person, but a real, flesh and bone woman.  And suddenly, I realized the transformation was complete.  Jenna was her old self again…and almost completely naked.  With my lips firmly pressed into hers.

She poked me roughly in the rib cage to get me to stand up.  Wordlessly, she jogged back into the storeroom and pulled on her clothes.  She then headed for the door, without even looking at me.

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or hurt.  I guess after what she had been through she had the right to be angry and I should be happy that she was content to simply leave.  But I had shown her something amazing.  She could have least said something…

As her hand hit the door, she stopped and turned around.  Without warning, she grabbed me by the neck and kissed me.  We kissed for a long, long time.  Then she broke free and swatted my forehead with her open palm.  

“Damn you, Jimmy.  If you had wanted to kiss me that bad, you didn’t have to be so elaborate.”  She then spun on her heels and walked off.  “I’m taking the day off,” she said as she left.  “Call Omi and see what other tricks he has.  Who knows, maybe I’ll even let you try one on me again sometime.”  The door jingled shut.  I sat on the waiting room couch, numb in the early morning light.


Czolgolz
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--Esta cuenta es dedicado a Pablo.  Tu haces tatuajes muy buenos, amigo.