"Good morning, Sweetie."
Leaning over, I planted a good-morning kiss right on my pumpkin's cold lips before slipping out of bed.
"Would you like some breakfast in bed today, my sweet?" I asked, putting on my slippers.
"That would be wonderful, sweetie, thank you," came my petunia's reply.
Smiling, I walked into our shared kitchen.
"What would you like today?" I called back.
"Just some toast, dear," came the faint reply.
I smiled to myself. "All right!"
Really, I thought to myself as I buttered the toast, she should eat more. If she kept eating like this, my gardenia would be reduced to nothing but skin.
"One breakfast in bed, coming right up!" I announced, bringing the tray in. "Toast, just the way you like it, and I added some orange juice, just for you."
I set it down right onto my postcard's lap and sat back on the bed, next to her.
"So," I asked, "How is it?"
My squash picked up the toast and pretended to nibble on it, for a bit, and then set it down. "It's great. Really. I'm just not that hungry at the moment."
"You don't like it?"
"No, no, I love it. I just ate a really big dinner, and I'm still full."
"You hate it, don't you."
"No, it's fine!"
"So then why won't you eat any of it?"
"I'm just…I'm just not hungry today. I'm sorry."
I threw up my hands. "Well, I'm sorry then, my little sweet gourd, if it's not tasty enough for your advanced palate. I bet you would eat it if that handsome young man from our date the other day served it to you!"
"W-what? No! Where did you get that idea?"
"Don't try to lie to me, my bowl of Non-Newtonian Fluid! I saw the way he looked at you, saw the way that he called you his Jennifer when he thought that I wasn't paying attention! You are nothing like his Jennifer, and we both know it!"
"S-sweetie…you're the only one for me…I could never leave you…"
Shaking my head, I went into the bathroom and began to undress. Why couldn't she understand how worried I got? I saw what she was like before she met me…how many others there had been before I stole my salted butter away.
Trying to get these negative thoughts out of my mind, I stepped into the shower and turned it as cold as it could go. Shampooing as fast as I could, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I was greeted by the sight of my bowl of Crisco, naked.
"What are you doing?" I gasped.
"Sweetie…" my pregnancy belly crooned, slithering over to me, "I love you. You know that, right?"
Walking over, I grabbed her by the marbled, flesh-coloured pouch of skin that was her waist, and kissed her full-on her mouth-like appendage, relishing the feel of her smooth, cold, damp, slick skin against mine.
"I love you too," I gasped, stepping back and wiping her slime away from my lips, before stepping back in and deepening the kiss.
Forgetting myself for a moment, I touched my tongue to her skin, and almost gagged as her slime oozed into my mouth. It tasted delightful, like old tires mixed with stale semen combined with feet before being sprinkled with crystallized sweat and wrapped in the pure flavor of old vomit. I continued the kiss, deepening it and adding passion of my own.
Stumbling back onto the bed, my bowl of gelatin fell on top of me as we continued to kiss. Her weight began to press me into the bed, making it difficult to breathe, but I ignored both it and the cold, sensual feel of her slime slithering over me. It was like being crushed by a gigantic, slowly leaking bag of Jell-O.
Groaning, my roll of carpet began to slither on top of me, crushing the breath out of my lungs and covering me in a faint sheen of slime. I began to gasp, my vision beginning to fade to black as my lungs strained and failed to get enough oxygen.
The pressure mercifully abated, as did the delicious dual feelings of weight and slime, and I saw my sweetie get up.
"Why did you stop now?" I asked.
"I'd like to take a shower first," my gorgeous painting said. "But don't worry. I'll be out in just a second."
I smiled at her.
"I love you, sweetie," she said.
"I love you too," I said.