Birthday Present (Part Two)

Before he even has a chance to get his bearings, she dumps him unceremoniously out of the box. He lands on what to his blurry eyes seems like a huge field of soft skin. Blinking and looking around, he discovers her belly button right next to him, big enough that if he stepped in it he could easily get his leg stuck. Slightly further away he can see what appears to be a skimpy pink crop-top, the landscape of it rising into a little hill where her breasts lie beneath it, obscuring her face beyond them. In the other direction, the waistband of a short pleated skirt, and emerging from the hem of the skirt a pair of incredibly long, smooth legs crossed at the ankle. In the distance, past her bare feet, he sees the girlishly decorated walls of what must be her bedroom. To his dismay, the door is closed, though it would be quite a journey for him to get there anyway. To even reach the foot of her bed would be like jogging several city blocks.

With a startled jump, he suddenly feels her dainty fingers, thick as tree trunks, curl around his body from behind. She lifts him off his feet and then places him face down on her belly, shoving his face into the soft skin just below her navel. Then comes her huge voice, bubbly and cheerful.

“Oh my god, like, can you talk?”

“What... Yeah, of course, I can…” he stammers, confused by the question. She just carries on talking.

“Okay so like, you know that thing I told you about? That thing I asked my Dad for? Yep! Yeah I have him here now!” She giggles. “I know!”

It dawns on him that she’s on the phone. He can faintly hear the tinny voice of another young woman on the other end, squealing and carrying on with delight.

“Oh my god yeah, he’s like, super cute,” Abbie carries on. “He’s perfect, exactly the size I wanted. Yeah, like a little doll. No, like, smaller than a Barbie. Yeah like four inches. What? Haha! No, not yet! You dirty girl! He would totally fit though, if you’re wondering...”

She bursts into laughter, her belly quaking against him. Still holding him against her, she starts gently stroking his face with one of her fingers. She’s actually petting me, he thinks to himself bitterly. Infuriated, he struggles as hard as he can to break free of her fingers, but she doesn’t even seem to notice.

“Well like, I just got him like five minutes ago,” she continues, “Yeah I haven’t even played with him yet or anything. I just couldn’t wait to tell you! Hmm? Oh, no he’s not happy about it. He seems, like, super pissed.” She shrugs, giggling. “No, like, I like it! He’s even cuter when he’s mad. Yeah! I know, poor little guy. I almost feel bad, but like… Yeah! I have him on my belly right now and he keeps, like, trying to get away but it’s literally like not even an effort to hold him there. Hang on a sec, I wanna try something real quick.”

To his surprise, her hand releases him. But as he’s scrambling to his feet, one of her fingers comes down hard onto his back and pushes him back down, holding him fast against her despite his furious struggling.

“Okay so yeah, like, I can hold him down with just my pinky. No like, it’s not even hard,” she giggles. “His voice? I dunno. He was trying to yell at me earlier but it was kind of like, squeaky and quiet. I know, so cute! No I know, like, for real though, that’s what I was telling you! So much more fun than like, a puppy or whatever. I dunno. I can’t even tell if he’s talking now actually.”

Her stomach hardens against him as she sits up slightly. Her huge smiling face appears beyond the ridge of her breasts like an enormous sun on the horizon. “Hey Snuggles? Are you talking?”

He blushes. Suddenly the fact that he’s been listening to her without trying to interrupt feels like a submission to her will. But if he speaks now, he’ll be answering to that stupid name that she gave him. He feels his throat go dry, put on the spot and paralyzed by indecision.

Panicking, he stammers. “I… Well…”

She bursts into laughter. “Aww, I think he’s like, nervous! Poor little guy!” She removes her pinky from his back and engulfs him in her hand again, holding him down against the soft skin of her belly and continuing to pet him. “Well like, he’s like a science nerd or whatever. He’s from my dad’s lab. He probably, like, never talks to pretty girls.”

His face burns red with anger. Somehow he’s transported back to being a teenager; the humiliation of being categorically dismissed by girls like her, girls who think that because they’re so pretty and rich, they rule the world. The infuriating fact that they so often seem to be right. Despite recognizing the immaturity of the impulse, despite knowing he’s a successful adult with nothing to prove, he feels the need to prove her wrong, to prove his existence in the realm of sexuality.

“For your information,” he shouts, “I happen to be married!” But she doesn’t even seem to notice him speaking. The second half of his exclamation is drowned out entirely by her bubbly voice giggling. “Oh, yeah I named him Snuggles. I know, so cute right? I know! Yeah.”

As if toying absently with a set of keys, she takes his ankle between her thumb and forefinger and dangles him upside down, dragging his face across her soft skin in little circles that swirl lazily around her belly button. After a few minutes she lays him back down and continues petting him.