Descending Road - OPEN YOUR MOUTH by Dana W. Paxson

OPEN YOUR MOUTH

1542 4D

That night, Marra awoke from jumbled animal dreams to a knock at the door.

“Who’s there?” she tried. The dryness in her throat choked her. Maybe another dream. The wind blasted as the door opened and slammed; the puff of chill rolled through the bedroom where she lay.

Deen‘s voice echoed from the hall. “Who’s there?”

A soft heavy female voice said, “I’m just passing through. Do you have a room I can rent for the night?”

“We’re both terribly sick,” Deen‘s voice said, with a choking sound. “We might be dangerous to you.” Marra heard some footsteps, some murmuring in a low voice, and then Deen‘s whisper and a gasp. A long silence followed.

Marra worried. “Deen?” she asked. “Deen?” A creaking, and a fat woman stood in the doorway, hooded and dripping. “Who are you? Is Deen all right?”

The woman smiled and nodded. In soft lamplight her dark olive skin shone with the dampness and cold. “She is now,” the woman said. “Call me Portaluce. Let me come look at you.” Marra tried to sit up, but fell back, gasping. Portaluce bent over Marra and took her face between two large soft hands. The woman gave Marra a smile as wide as a sunset; warmth shone down into Marra‘s whole body. “You’re old too soon,” the fat woman said. “Open your mouth very wide. No, wider. Good. How does that feel now?”

“Aahh.” Marra tried to nod. The woman’s glow wrapped her, making her lifted up and drunk and helpless all at once.

“I’m going to feed you now, something good. Don’t be afraid, it will go down just fine. Close your eyes. You’ll feel your mouth fill, but let it stay there.” The woman’s breath, sweet and hot, swashed Marra‘s face.

Warm large lips pressed against Marra‘s. A warm, mild liquid, thicker than a broth, flowed quivering into her parched and tender mouth, and gathered itself to trickle in long strands down her throat, leaving a luminous trail of succulence that made her want to swallow. Salty sweetness, perfumed with herbal intensities, spread a tingle through her nasal passages.

Portaluce‘s face, broad as the moon, smiled benignly down at her. Another fever dream. But I like this one. Raised from within her belly by an updraft of sunshine in the night, Marra fell asleep.

Story List	SURPRISE ME	Author Page
USER SURVEY	PUZZLE ME	MAKE ELM MARK

HOVER Lucida Bright BARE	HOVER Lucida Bright FULL	HOVER Palatino Linotype BARE
HOVER Palatino Linotype FULL	HOVER Times New Roman BARE	HOVER Times New Roman FULL
PAD Arial BARE	PAD Arial FULL	PAD Lucida Bright BARE
PAD Lucida Bright FULL	PAD Times New Roman BARE	PAD Times New Roman FULL


	OPEN YOUR MOUTH 1542 4D That night, Marra awoke from jumbled animal dreams to a knock at the door. “Who’s there?” she tried. The dryness in her throat choked her. Maybe another dream. The wind blasted as the door opened and slammed; the puff of chill rolled through the bedroom where she lay. Deen‘s voice echoed from the hall. “Who’s there?” A soft heavy female voice said, “I’m just passing through. Do you have a room I can rent for the night?” “We’re both terribly sick,” Deen‘s voice said, with a choking sound. “We might be dangerous to you.” Marra heard some footsteps, some murmuring in a low voice, and then Deen‘s whisper and a gasp. A long silence followed. Marra worried. “Deen?” she asked. “Deen?” A creaking, and a fat woman stood in the doorway, hooded and dripping. “Who are you? Is Deen all right?” The woman smiled and nodded. In soft lamplight her dark olive skin shone with the dampness and cold. “She is now,” the woman said. “Call me Portaluce. Let me come look at you.” Marra tried to sit up, but fell back, gasping. Portaluce bent over Marra and took her face between two large soft hands. The woman gave Marra a smile as wide as a sunset; warmth shone down into Marra‘s whole body. “You’re old too soon,” the fat woman said. “Open your mouth very wide. No, wider. Good. How does that feel now?” “Aahh.” Marra tried to nod. The woman’s glow wrapped her, making her lifted up and drunk and helpless all at once. “I’m going to feed you now, something good. Don’t be afraid, it will go down just fine. Close your eyes. You’ll feel your mouth fill, but let it stay there.” The woman’s breath, sweet and hot, swashed Marra‘s face. Warm large lips pressed against Marra‘s. A warm, mild liquid, thicker than a broth, flowed quivering into her parched and tender mouth, and gathered itself to trickle in long strands down her throat, leaving a luminous trail of succulence that made her want to swallow. Salty sweetness, perfumed with herbal intensities, spread a tingle through her nasal passages. Portaluce‘s face, broad as the moon, smiled benignly down at her. Another fever dream. But I like this one. Raised from within her belly by an updraft of sunshine in the night, Marra fell asleep.