One reason you consider yourself a female herm while George is a male one is that while you think sex is a lot of fun, you can think of other things, in this case that you can think of swallowing him, while he is still thinking of riding you again. So when you lean forward, George is thinking you are about to kiss him, to be followed by another union. He is not at all ready when your mouth expands massively and you lunge forward to engulf his entire head.
For a moment he struggles and he might be able to pull free. But this is not your first man. So you grab him, but not to stop him from trying to jerk free. Instead you grab his manhood, and start to stroke it. As expected, George slows, and then stops struggling. With his lower brain in control, he can't stop thinking about sex long enough to do anything about you eating him alive.
You try to think about how stupid he is, but you find yourself envying him. If you could, you would shove his tool into your damp need. But you just can't bend far enough to swallow his chest without his falling out of you. So you must choose between sex and vore. Reluctantly you opt for vore [George is delicious after all], but you still have this suspicion that George is getting the better of the deal.
You must have drained George pretty well. He only slowly hardens, and then it is even longer before he gets off. By then your lips are around his chest, and he is lunch for sure. However, you keep on working on his soldier, to his considerable pleasure.
And almost to your necessity. His engorged staff is just not going to fit in your mouth and with it hanging out, it makes a hook that makes it about impossible to finish swallowing him. You are going to have to slip it in when it is soft. And now it seems he is going to stay stiff constantly. So you have to work hard again and again to get him off, and his vitals into your maw. All the more reason to wonder if he should be thanking you.
But eventually you succeed and George is sliding down your throat and into your belly. You feel him shoot off a few times on the way. But he settles down once he is fully in your stomach. And so you lean back to relax and digest him.
"That wasn't fair." George objects from your guts, "Next time I get to eat you."
Meals that didn't like being food is nothing new. You have had them scream, yell, and beg. But talking about next time? "What do you mean?" you counter, "You're food. There isn't going to be a next time."
"You are a newbie here, aren't you?" George responds. "There are going to be a lot of next times. You don't digest permanently around here. You reform at the nurse's office or some other place. So you can digest me now, but inside an hour, I'll be coming after you for my turn."
That sounds impossible to you, but when you think about it, it does make some sense. There is supposed to be a thousand vores on this campus, and if they could just eat each other, there would be 500 in short order, and then 250 and 125 and ... After 10 meals there would be only one left? That doesn't sound right. Still, even if math is not your best subject, you can't be that far wrong. There can't be anything like the number of vores on this campus that you have already seen if they just freely consume each other. It makes more sense if they do reform each time, even if that is crazy.
"So how many time have you been swallowed?" you ask your belly.
"Lost track long ago." George casually responds, "Few of us manage to go even a week without being digested, so it's got to be over a hundred..."
You continue to ask questions as George dissolves into soup. You are not sure if the answers are correct, but you would like to know more about the campus, and in any case, George answering questions is George not screaming or crying or otherwise trying to get out of your belly. Not that you have ever let a meal escape that way, but they can be annoying, and you would rather concentrate on their delicious taste. Presently George is just sloshing liquid, and then his volume reduces until you no longer even look pregnant, much less with quintuplets.
Time to get on to other things. One of which is voring someone else. People are like potato chips. You don't want to eat just one. So where is your next course? There are a fair number of students around. Maybe one of the girls? Or maybe another boy?