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As I plunge my finger deeper into the vagina-like hole in the center of the petals to see how deep it goes, three fleshy petals close around my hand like a starfish trying to hug me. And to keep from seeing her more than I need to, I’ve followed her instructions and started taking probiotic vaginal suppositories as a means of prophylaxis to lower my odds of infection. The thick thing is surprisingly heavy and dense, like a slab of meat. Considering that I’m knuckle deep and the top of my palm is mashed against where the petals converge, this squishy hole must go all the way into the middle of the phallus that’s swollen inside of me. Every time I try pulling it out, my hand glides off of it.
