Mei makes a meal of removing her tee-shirt. Not only is this probably her first time getting naked in front of a boy, she has to be aware that if she isn't seductive enough, she'll get eaten instead of fucked then eaten. Maybe she's even hoping that if she's a good enough lay, you won't eat her at all.

No chance.

She teases you with the slow stripping of her bra, not that you judge the bulk of her lean breasts to have really been worth the effort. Although fear or cold or possibly arousal have hardened her nipples already, delicious little raisins standing proud atop her rice-brown mounds.

Yeah, she's food.

“Please,” she whispers as she scoots onto her butt, slipping her thumbs into the waistband of her short-skirt and panties, before sliding them down her smooth legs. “I don't want to die a virgin.”

That's... pretty hot, actually. You don't particularly want her to die a virgin, either. Her skirt you toss, whilst slipping the panties into your pocket, the memento of the fucking good meal Mei's about to make. Gently, you caress her ankle and draw her big toe to your lips for a delicate kiss.

Even through the soft fabric of her socks, she's beyond delicious and into the realms of delectable. With just a hint of spicy. Either way, there's lots of fuckably cute girls in the world and, so far, only one dish who tastes like this.

No way you're going to wait.

You seize her calves and draw her feet into your mouth. It doesn't even feel like a stretch to get your lips around them anymore. Just, you know, a normal wriggling mouthful.

Above the socks, Mei tastes even better.

She's screaming now, and despite some of the other vores sexing their prey, there's still plenty of eating going on. Her terrified voice blends into the general hubbub.

You don't even hesitate in slurping her upto her thighs, her futile kicking only adding a welcome degree of vibrant texture to her flavour. And the happy thrumming of your throat, felt reverberating up through her legs, lets her know just how much more than sex you're enjoying doing this to her.

Her tight little box is right before your eyes, occasional flashes of pussylips bared to your view by the hopeless struggle of her hips.

You're already eating her one way, and she claims to be a virgin. Why not?

Your tongue dives between her nether lips. Only a little while ago, you'd have had no idea what to do. Now, it's no trouble to find and torment her clit. Mei's screams take on an undercurrent of pleasure, and her sex-juices are sweet.

She comes swift and hard, her hips bucking more vigorously, but no more effectively, than when they'd fought to save her life.

In an unbelievably delicious mix of girl-juice and saliva, you slurp her to the rolling low hills of her breasts before she's finished shaking off her orgasm. Her hands scratch at your face, and you catch them in an iron grip to prevent her being troublesome as your lips and throat draw her in to her neck.

There's only her head and arms left. “Please, don't,” Mei whispers through trembling lips. “You were wonderful. Let me return the favour first.”

You have no way of telling her that she already is. So you part you lips a little further and pop her skull onto your tongue for a thorough tasting. Its suddenly quieter, and a lot better without your meal's pointless yapping. You realise, too, that you perhaps ought to feel vaguely guilty about this.

But you don't.

She was just food. Both of them were. And your belly was their entirely appropriate destiny. On cue, the aforesaid organ gurgles happily at the meal its getting.

Only her hair and arms left to go. You slurp them up like good spaghetti, till nothing remains of Mei save fingers pressing into your lips, then, as you smack them after your tasty meal, not even that. You gulp Mei's torso and head out of your grossly distorted oesophagus and down into the swirling, crowded, acidic darkness of your stomach for digestion. Her hands still press against your throat, her fingers ticklish within in. Well, let them. It's not unpleasant, and other vores will only find it funny to see this evidence of your meal's last lost struggle.

In fact your meals, the two girls, former friends, are making quite a ruckus inside of you, fighting over the scarce resources of air and space. You rub your swollen belly gently to settle them, and let out a long self-satisfied burp. Your midriff shrinks noticeably, and the air released smells rather wonderfully of girl, with that distinctive tang that's a sure indicator of digestion to come.

Now there's nothing for them to fight over, and indeed they very soon settle into stillness, perhaps calmly accepting the new role of their foreshortened lives, to become nutrients for your needy body.

Or perhaps not.

Collapsing back into their chair with the satisfaction of a well-filled belly, you watch Penny vore the blonde down from her kicking calves to the tips of her toes, you realise you don't really care.