Pretend You're Swimming

"I did it" she announced
"Sally, oh, Sarah, don't cry"
"But I did do it, Alex"
"...You mean" I said, "that's all?"
"You mean" she gasped, "more?"
"Well, to be frank, a little more - I mean to be truthful with you, it wouldn't go unappreciated - "
"But it's getting big, I'll suffocate"
JEW SMOTHERS DEB WITH COCK, Vassar Grad Georgetown Strangulation Victim; Mocky Lawyer Held
"Not if you breathe you wont"
"I will, I'll choke -"
"Sarah, the best safeguard against asphyxiation is breathing. Just breathe, and that's all there is to it. More or less."
God bless her, she tried. But came up gagging. "I told you, she moaned.
"But you weren't breathing"
"I can't with that in my mouth."
"Through your nose. Pretend you're swimming."
"But I'm not."
"PRETEND!" I suggested, and though she gave another gallant try, surfaced only seconds later in an agony of coughing and tears. I gathered her then in my arms (that lovely willing girl! convinced by Mozart to go down on Alex! oh sweet as Natasha in War and Peace! a tender young countess!). I rocked her, I teased her, I made her  laugh, for  the first time I said, "I love you too, my baby," but of course it couldn't have been clearer to me that despite all her many qualites and charms - her devotion, her beauty, her deerlike grace, her place in American history - there could never be any "love" in me for The Pilgrim. Intolerant of her frailties. Jealous of her accomplishments. Resentful of her family. No, not much room there for love.

p240-1 Portnoy's Complaint