He blinks once then starts to pull on his cloths; you sit up and arch your eyebrows. “You can work just fine as you are.” You say. He pauses, hand already on his shirt. After a moment he lets it go and instead gathers up your textbook and sits down at your desk and begins to work.

As he does that, you concentrate on enjoying the last fleeting sensations of your former boyfriend’s digestion. You poke your pudginess and grin at the pleasant memory of his final moments. The way his legs kicked in the air as you slurped him in, or the way he struggle in your belly, the feel of which had been positively glorious. You burped in a genteel manner before rolling on to your side to observe your latest acquisition.