A lone hiker crawled up the hillside. His new boots picked their way through large rocks and stubborn weeds; his hands chafed against the shiny walking stick, and his elbows stung at the unusual application of pressure. He began to debate whether he should break into his dehydrated pork loaf when he spotted the cave, shaped like they described but about a mile-and-a-half further than he was expecting. Any resentment he had over the additional expenditure of effort evaporated as he approached the opening at the base of the mountain. Momentarily he wondered about how caves actually formed and how common they were, but this too zipped right out of his skull, supplanted by mounting excitement.

He paused at the mouth of the cave, sweeping his gaze left and right over the boulders in the area, the lone tree that sprouted defiantly from between them, and the field of cows far, far to the side. He reached for the map pocket mounted on the back of his jacket, his shoulders complaining bitterly as he groped and scrabbled until, swearing, he cast his walking staff down and shucked the field jacket and ripped the damned pocket open to yank out a map. It wasn’t a proper map, one printed on a professional press, one that represented generations of careful study and artistic rendering. It was a large, sprawling, representative map doodled on the back of an oversized sheet of paper, the page of two months ago from his desk calendar. It wasn’t his handwriting, but that of three old men in a tavern, a stone structure that looked like any of the other houses in Lower Chapel, the local watering hole that could’ve been easily overlooked if he hadn’t been given explicit instructions in Worcester. But he had, and he didn’t, and he’d obeyed the spirit of the drunken scrawling on the back of June that, by hook or by crook, led him to this cave.

He sucked in the rustic air through his nostrils, pausing significantly, hoping to impress this moment upon his memory. He closed his eyes and studied, really studied, the tang of hay over cow manure, the mineral-laden mud that coated his boots, and the waft of damp, clammy aromas coming from the mountain’s interior. Inauspicious, perhaps, but he knew that grand moments could be surrounded by a hundred trivialities. Who knew when, at some point in the future, simply stomping a shovel into his garden and upheaving the loam could whisk him right back to this moment? He could be shopping for button or cremini mushrooms at his co-op and their pungent fungality could transport him to where he stood. He could drive through the countryside and the odor of cow shit could bring him right back here. One never knew.

“If you’re coming in,” echoed a woman’s voice, “then come in, already.”

The volume of this voice nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t aggressive—if anything, it was sleepy—but it was larger and more voluminous than anything he’d heard outside of a vehicle designed to haul immense loads of earth around or to fling hundreds of passengers across the sky.

“If you’re lost, head up to the cow pasture to your left and follow the spring back to town. Left. West. Whatever…”

The last few miles of bright skies in a very high tint of gray were blinding him to the depths of the cavern, but the immensity of the daunting voice discouraged him from stepping inside and letting his vision adjust. He couldn’t see anyone moving around inside, he couldn’t see any tables or booths or a PA system. “Hello? Is this the… I mean, I’m looking for—”

“Yes, yes.” How could someone sound so loud and yet so weary? “You found me. Come on in, set your stuff by the entrance. It’ll be safe there, don’t worry.”

Something gnawed at the periphery of his sense of adventure. “I don’t have much, just my walking stick and a backpack. I guess a jacket full of stuff. Should I just… ?”

“Yes, all of it, right there. No one will bother it.”

Still straining to peer into the cave’s depths, he collapsed his walking stick and set it down with a metallic clink. His jacket had been slung over his forearm: he folded this and laid it upon a relatively flat saddle between three jagged rocks, and upon that he rested his binoculars, his backpack, and his camera case. He stared at these, rather than the interior of the cavern, then stuffed the binoculars inside the backpack, and then jammed his walking stick in there as well. That just left the camera case, which was more valuable than the backpack and almost everything else, but he didn’t think there would be room to fit that inside his backpack. Not that it would be damaged, but would it be a good idea to leave it out in the open? It could tempt passers-by. Then he laughed at himself, wondering how many people could be just casually strolling through this area. He hadn’t seen anyone on his way up here, and there was no one in the cow pasture but cows. Still, it was a Leica lens…

“No one comes up here.” Her voice was slightly more insistent, a little more pointed, so he balked and stepped back from the mound, started to enter the blackness. “You’re not done, are you?”

He patted his pockets and shrugged theatrically into the unknown. “Should I take out my wallet and passport?”

There was an immense sigh, like the buildup and release of a large wave on the surf. “Your clothes.”

Cold rippled throughout his body. How did she know? Was she psychic, on top of everything else? “My clothes?”

“Come on.”

He stood there, momentarily dumbfounded. Was she demanding that he strip down? Just to his underwear, or what? He wasn’t even inside the cave. What if someone saw? Then again, she assured him his camera was safe… Wearing a crooked grin, he unbuttoned his UV-shielding shirt, undid the safety knots on his brand-new hiking boots, unlatched the nylon webbed belt with the secret liner for hiding paper money, and stepped out of his breathable, stain-resistant pants that could unzip at mid-thigh to turn into shorts. He carefully folded each garment in a tidy pile, only noting with dismay at the end that he’d rested his soiled boots upon his shirt. He was about to yank his shirt away and scrub the mud off with some local weeds when the AHEM boomed into his mostly bare body.

“And the shorts.”

“But what if someone sees?”

“No one will see. It’s just me up here.”

“How do I know that?”

“Then get dressed, pack up your camera, and fuck the fuck off.”

That struck him as particularly harsh, as he stood in the entrance to the cave, wearing nothing but striped boxers and rapid-drying microfiber socks, still off-gassing their newness. This wasn’t at all what he thought it’d be like, and he said so.

“Talk to management and demand a refund.”

He was about to counter that there was nobody in charge and he’d paid nothing, but quickly realized that was what she was getting at. Whoever she was, she was unpleasant and inhospitable. “Am I being pranked right now? If I am, just tell me so, so I can get dressed and go back for an evening of cheap beers.”

“I’d say you’re the one wasting my time, but I literally have nothing else to do.” As voluminous as every word she spoke was, she enunciated literally with crushing weight. “Come on in and let’s get this over with.”

He pouted in the darkness, all fear pushed aside as he entered the cave. This wasn’t nearly as sexy as he’d imagined. “I can’t see anything,” he started to say, when he discovered his rods and cones had been adjusting during the time he stalled at the cave’s entrance. Now he could see glistening, moss-patched walls of gray volcanic stock, leading to a rippling interior of white and rose minerals. The ground was uniformly dirty, nothing but new dust coating old dirt and sparse gravel, all the way back into the inner recesses of the mountain. The midday sun glowered brightly overhead, providing enough ambient light to roll deep within and coyly reveal his path as he crept within.

Almost immediately the air cooled and dampened around him; it was like walking into a vertical pool. The sand turned moist beneath his feet, so he peeled off his socks and tossed them toward the entrance. His toes dug into chilly, damp ground, and his balls retracted within the drapery of his boxers. Once again he had the impulse to denounce any tricksters leading a poor tourist on, yet… his dick really wanted this, so he kept silent and walked deeper into the mountain.

The ground sloped slightly down, and he followed it. The air grew colder, possibly wetter, but he walked on. The radiant light from the entrance dimmed until he had to feel his way along the right-hand wall, and he continued. He could always turn around, he told himself, if this went on too long. In the darkness he slowed his gait, stretching each leg out in turn to detect whether the floor emptied into a cliff. It never did, but he never stopped checking, when his eyes no longer served him.

“I can see you now. Come around to your right. You’ve arrived.”

“But I can’t see you yet.”

The loud woman’s voice, louder now, huffed and told him to wait a moment. He heard her puffing forcefully, and light arose to his right, spreading throughout the cavern in which he now found himself. The light was an eerie blue-green that made him think of the deep ocean, yet it was somehow calming. It was a gentle light, emerging from the rear of the cavern and spreading to the right: he realized it came from tall, sprawling growths of bioluminescent moss. Patches of it glowed in bursts, steady bursts ringing the right side of the cavern, in time with the gusting noises of the woman’s heavy breathing, and it didn’t really come together until the wind blasted over his shoulder and the wall behind him lit up and he found himself standing before the glowing face of a woman.

She appeared to be middle-aged, by the bags under her eyes and the creases across her brow and the sag of her cheeks; pale ringlets framed her forehead and cheeks in a dense, heavy mane. Her face was higher than he was tall, several times wider. The moss glowed crisply in the lenses of her eyes, which trained upon him with preternatural intensity; her pupils flexed, constricted, and flexed again, and he could see his own body as a silhouette against the light in her eyes. Her long nose ended in a bulb, the opposite of sexy, but somehow friendly and cozy—he wanted to give it a hug, for some reason. Coarse, wiry bristles bunched over her eyes.

When she faced him, he felt more than naked, though he still wore his boxers. As those large eyes, orbs bigger than his skull, peered at him, he didn’t feel transparent so much as the intensity of her perception punched a hole through his frail body. And those eyes sat mounted not far above a broad mouth of thick lips in a deep scowl. Doubtlessly two rows of large teeth lay hidden behind these fleshy flaps, but he could not see them. All he could see was the portrait of disapproval in their curve.

The massive face drifted away to puff and activate the rest of the natural lighting of the cavern.

What was he supposed to do? Why was she mad at him? He’d only just arrived. Maybe he supposed to bring a gift, an offering? Those old farts in Lower Chapel didn’t mention anything like that. He didn’t know. Was there time to get dressed and run out and buy her something? What could she possibly want, though? A selection of fine cheeses, a six-pack?

A card?

“Hey, uh…” His voice wandered in the darkness, unsure.

The gentle blue light of the moss did not adversely affect his vision in this chamber, did not blind him or dazzle or cloud his eyes. It was some time before he could make out the shapes in the center of the room. At first they resembled pillars, but fallen, leaning against something like a mausoleum. When they shifted slightly and held, completely silently, the images reformed in his mind and became an upper arm and forearm, bare and glowing in the bioluminescence. They were familiar shapes, but they were enormous: he could no more have wrapped his arms around her forearm than he could embrace an old-growth redwood.

Wind in her throat sighed and echoed briefly in the cool, damp chamber. “Do whatever you’re gonna do.”

Her attitude was less than enticing. “What are you talking about?” He stalled, trying to get more information, to know where to step next.

“Aren’t you ready?”

“For what?”

“Knock it off. Just get on with it, there’s nothing stopping you.”

He stepped forward. His foot sank in the cool sand; his pinky toe caught a small rock. “I’m sorry if I’ve said something to upset you. I just thought we could… have a little fun.” He wondered if the moss would show her his shy grin.

“I’m waiting.”

“It’s just that this has been my fantasy all my life. I don’t know how it started, I’ve just always been into big, powerful women. I think it had to do with my mom’s friends, when they’d come over for bridge night.” Slowly he approached the body as large as a house, in the darkness. “All their perfume, their fancy clothes, acting differently when their husbands weren’t around. My mom told me to stay in my room, but I’d always sneak out.” He smiled again. “It was such a thrill, going against her words, and then her friends were so happy to see me. They’d pick me up and put me on their laps. One of them called me her boyfriend. I didn’t really know what that meant, but I loved it. They’d let me sit in on a round of cards before my mom would hustle me off to bed with a cookie. I loved card nights.”

“Do you want to crawl around, or do you want me to place you somewhere?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, I was talking. Weren’t you listening?” He wanted to frown at her face, but that was two of his body-lengths off to the right. Instead he scowled at a bicep larger and, frankly, a little flabbier than he was expecting.

“You don’t need to waste any time. Get on with what you came here to do, all right? I won’t move too much, so don’t worry.”

“Excuse me, what do you think I came here to do?”

Her derisive snort gusted clammy air over his mostly nude form. “There’s only one reason anyone visits me. It’s the same thing, over and over. Get your jollies, live out your fantasy, get it over with and go away.”

He tried to peer around her sloping shoulder, the size of a VW Bug or a Fiat, to read her expression. All he saw was her clearly defined nostrils, prominent cheekbones, and that forbidding brow wreathed in large whorls of silvery hair. “My fantasy still involves a willing partner,” he said in an accusatory whine. “Not some jaded… fucking… ‘get in, get out, quit muckin’ about’ fling.”

“Then I’m sorry, your fantasy can’t be found here. I’m only a fifteen-meter-tall woman, a physical anomaly, gifted with exaggerated height and near-immortality. Apparently.” Her heavy lids closed and the sand rasped as her skull rested upon it. “What you’re looking for is impossible.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Quit wasting time.”

“You have something better to do?” He looked around the cavern, seeing no other exit than the relatively narrow passage from which he emerged.

“Don’t you?”

Her massive head had rolled the other way so he couldn’t read her expression at all; her words bounced off the far end of the cavern, swinging around her back and shoulders. It felt unfair that she should hide herself away like this, and he considered the short jog (in damp sand) to round her head and read her face again. Instead, he quietly stepped around her skull, avoiding where her hair spilled across the ground. “This was supposed to be the culmination of my fantasy,” he said, raising his voice. “It was an impossible dream I’ve had all my life, and then I heard about you, this giantess living in the mountains. Obviously I didn’t believe it,” he said, coming up to the top of her head. He discovered he was taller than her head when it turned aside.

“But I wanted to. The more I read, the more I wanted to believe in you, and the more fearful I got that you were just some stupid hoax. I don’t know why people dedicate their time and energy to making up stupid lies, but they get their kicks out of it and they’re better at it all the time. It makes life harder for the rest of us.”

Slowly her hairline gave way to her broad brow. It was incredible, really, to be only slightly taller than a woman’s forehead, temple to temple. It made her seem like some prehistoric beast, when everything was much larger and more vital. Beyond her bushy eyebrows he could see her thick lids were closed. Her nose jutted out boldly, hiding her mouth. “I did more research and, like I said, the closer I got, the more tense it got. One day I decided I had enough evidence to justify a plane ticket, and I had plenty of vacation saved up, so I took off and… here I am.” He rested his palm upon the bridge of her nose, as though he were leaning against a bar to wait for a drink.

She gasped and turned her head the other way.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is. This is the greatest dream of my entire life, and it’s about to become real, but for some reason you’re being a real killjoy about it. Can’t you just do this for me?” Standing in the dank cavern, clad only in striped boxers, with wet sand leeching the heat from his legs, he did not feel at his strongest.

“I’m totally compliant.” Her voice bounced softly around the room. “I’m here for whatever you want to do. I don’t know any other way to tell you to get started. I’m naked, I’m here… what more do you want.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it.” He continued walking past the rolls of sandy, matted curls to where the wrinkles in her neck gave way to smooth, large shoulders.

“Believe me, I’m ecstatic. Every time.”

“Other people have been here?” Her shoulder sloped to the ground, her elbow buried in sand. One immense boob flattened against her thigh, creating a new cavern of her armpit. He peered inside, losing his adventurous grin when he saw the scraggly nest of hair within.

“No one like you, you magnificent specimen.”

“No, seriously. Who else comes up here?”

Above his head, her rib cage swelled massively, and he was reminded what a majestic beast she was. “Tourists, like you. Villagers sometimes. Last year I had a couple kids claiming to be from a travel journal, whatever that is. With all the pictures they were taking, I don’t think they were telling the truth. Probably making what you call… internet porn.”

As he walked, her fat thigh led to the plump curve of her hip, spilling over her callused heel. Overhead, her hip scooped in dramatically to a relatively narrow waist. “That’s unfortunate,” he said vaguely, turning back to ogle her ponderous tit. “They should’ve given you something. So what do people want when they come up here?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.” His feet were tiny compared to her ankle. He raised his leg and placed his sole upon the deep wrinkles running across her heel: his toes got lost in them immediately. Her skin was cool except for deep in the creases. “I mean, it could be anything. They could be seeking ancient wisdom, I guess. Maybe they’re asking for your favor, like with good crops or something? Killing an enemy? While I was researching you, I found all this interesting information on giantess-worship cults among the Norse people—”

A cloud of dust bloomed around the other end of the giantess. “Why are you doing this to me?”

He retracted his foot and his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just making conversation, I’m not doing anything to you.”

“I’m not here for conversation.”

“What are you here for?” He grinned, excited to find an inroad to conversation.

“What do I have to do?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I can’t believe I have to force you to fuck me.” Her laughter gusted like a bull snuffling at the corners of their small room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned toward her massive buttock. It bulged in a pleasing swell from her pelvis, in contrast to the heavy rolls of flesh around her waist, bunched against where her thigh spilled over. He had been considering walking behind her huge feet, one crossed cutely over the other, to slyly examine the crack of her ass when she pulled this on him from out of nowhere. “I never said anything about having sex with you.”

“You, standing here in the privacy of my inner chamber, standing there clad only in your underwear… that’s what you have to say?”

He blushed in the dim blue light and it went unnoticed. “You ordered me to take my clothes off.”

“You’re just here to have sex with me. You’re here to enact your fantasy of fucking a giant woman. Why won’t you just say that?”

“I don’t know where you got such an idea. I really thought that we could be friends. I was, you know, hoping to learn about your experiences.” He was a little proud of thinking so quickly on his feet.

“Unbelievable. You still think you need to trick me into sex.”

A new chill, minty and wet, flushed throughout his chest. “I wasn’t—”

“Please just get it over with. I’m ordering you to. I’m begging you.”

“But I’m not—”

“I haven’t had to kill anyone in 150 years.” One elbow, rough from leaning on, shifted and pushed a small dune of sand. Her armpit was exposed to him more fully, with dark, bristly hairs standing out against the pale concavity. “Except a few years ago, when two men came in here and one attacked the other. I believe I was doing the right thing. I’m saying I haven’t killed out of  pleasure in a very long time, but I’m about to.”

His knees threatened to give out; he stumbled backward, looking for the way out, but as he looked erratically about, every dark space between bioluminescent sheets looked like every other. “Don’t kill me,” he said. His throat constricted to emit a comical squeak. “I came in peace, I only wanted to love you. Please don’t kill me.” An odd lump hidden in the sand caught his heel and threw him backward. He landed on his wrist wrong and nearly bit his tongue.

“All of you pathetic little men want the same thing. You all come here year after year, hoping to fuck a giant woman.” Her arm reached out, only able to unfold halfway before the back of her hand rubbed against the cavern wall. She rolled her shoulder forward a couple times; it gave one loud, wet pop and she rested a moment before retracting her arm back into the position he’d found it in. “You say whatever you have to, in order to get what you want. You sing songs, you tell stories to evoke my pity, you come in with weapons and demands, you bring gifts I have no use for. Except the food. I like the food.”

Inwardly he cursed himself for not thinking of food.

“The food gets more and more interesting with each passing era, unlike you horny little men. You just keep coming, like grains through the neck of an infinitely large hourglass, one after the other.”

He wanted to protest that he wasn’t like anyone else, but she was on a roll.

“Some of you stick your little heads in my vulva, and you abuse your cock until you spurt on my instep. Some of you slip your cocks right between my toes and have sex with them. Some of you wanted to be crushed beneath my breasts.” She paused, and the great nest of gray curls slowly rolled in place. “I guess more men have died here than I remembered. I wouldn’t say I killed them, though my body was the means of their demise. Some suffocated under my breasts, at their request. Some crawled into my mouth to masturbate, and sometimes they came back out. I can’t help that. So many of you have tried to crawl into my vagina. You get so mad at me when it’s dry and sticky and you can’t make any progress. How is that my fault?

“Others of you are bright enough to bring your own lubrication. You cover yourself, you cover my private entrance, and in you go like giddy eels. Again, very few of you have made it back out, and damn my eyes if I’m going to take responsibility for that. Some of you even try to slip your penis into my anus, and some of you have tried to crawl inside, and two of you, in two centuries, even made it all the way in.” The massive woman shifted where she crouched. To the man’s eyes, her huge buttocks clenched uncomfortably. “I gave up trying to understand you a long, long time ago.”

He became aware of cold sand creeping into his own butt crack but made not a move to brush it out.

“If you want to die under me, inside me, fine. Whatever. That’s your choice: I’m just going to lie here and take it. That’s what I do best, and, honestly, that is all you little men want.” He started to say he wasn’t here a long time ago, but her roar bounced off the cavern walls like something furious and from Tasmania. “That is ALL you little men EVER want! You tell me stories, you strike up conversations, but it all leads to the same thing: you all just want to have an orgasm at the expense of a giant woman.” Her immense head rolled again, and he could see the tip of her nose past her bicep. “At the expense of a woman. Think about that. Think very hard about those particular words. Can you do it?”

“At the expense of a woman.” He tried to sound friendly and obedient, and saying the words in that tone felt like he was floating in space. Or falling from a great height.

“What do those words mean to you?”

“At the expense of a woman,” he repeated, quietly. “It sounds financial. Like someone’s taking something away from the woman.”

Her breath was very long.

“But aren’t they sharing something? I mean, we. I wouldn’t just use you, I’d be…” He blushed again, looking away, smiling. “I’d be making love to you. With you. It’s a shared experience, after all, something we can give each other.” She said nothing, so he tested his legs and slowly stood. “It would be my pleasure to give you pleasure, after all. To see a great, big, glorious woman like you achieve orgasm would be an incredible gift… an incredible honor. Just think, someone as puny and weak as me”—in no way did he consider himself puny or weak—“giving someone as grand and powerful as you an orgasm? That’s amazing! It would be like witnessing a volcanic eruption or a land-splitting glacier. And if I could cause that? If I could be the cause for your pleasure, why wouldn’t I want that? Why wouldn’t I want to be the one to give a goddess like you a soul-satisfying orgasm? I bet it shakes the mountain every time it happens.”

There was a heavy pause before the cavern rang with the giantess’s harsh laughter. “You’ll notice the mountain is entirely intact.”

He wondered what that had to do with anything.

“You have three minutes to take your bloody orgasm, or leave, or I’m going to shut you up in a way you only think you’re going to love.” Her voice was a low rumble, like a glacier shouldering through a mountain.

“But I don’t want to die!”

Her upper back rose and flexed, shoulder blades poking briefly as she rolled her joints and relieved her spine slightly. “Three minutes,” she said, louder.

He looked around the room and finally found the exit: it was directly behind him. He’d collapsed in front of it and didn’t even know. Part of him wanted to sprint out the corridor—would her arm fit in it? Could her hand chase him up the passage and catch him?—another relentless, thoughtless part of him wanted to experience his fantasy. He had no idea why she was being so difficult about this whole thing, but she certainly went out of her way to make him feel less special. After all, he’d dreamed about this moment his whole life, and she took it away from him. Tried to, he amended, grateful to see the tent in his boxers.

“If you insist,” he muttered, trotting around her backside. “Far be it from me to not give a lady everything she wants.” Her plump buttocks spread gently here. The dim blue light hardly reached into the giantess’s crack, and he saw only suggestions of where her tailbone ended, where her puckered asshole lay, and where her taint gave way to her lady bits.

His heart began to pound as he lifted one foot and placed it upon the pad of her big toe. It was the size of a pillow, but as firm as… he didn’t know what, an exercise ball? And it twitched only slightly at first contact, but then he laid his sole flat upon it and it was steady. His whole foot, resting upon her big toe! It was incredible! His mouth hung open in wonder as the heat between their extremities slowly spread through layers of flesh, getting closer to uniting.

“Two and a half,” she said, her tone a blend of threat and boredom.

He looked around for the next step, which looked like the pad of her foot, her other foot, by her pinky toe. Holding his breath, he rose upon his fore leg and laid all his weight upon the giant woman’s toe. It held, easily, and he swiftly planted his other bare foot upon her sole. “This is wild, this is wild.” In the darkness his eyes widened. Beginner’s spelunking combined with the heady thrill of exploring a new woman, and all the blood in his little body (now he began to feel very little) rushed to all the pockets and peninsulas in his little body. Her foot on top of the other didn’t move, and he pushed himself up until he stood fully upon the edge of her sole, bare feet upon bare foot, skin on skin.

Skin on skin with a giantess! His mouth hung open and he panted. The dim blue light seemed to emanate from the immense woman’s skin, and he realized he’d placed his palm upon the curve of her butt to stabilize himself during the short two-step climb. Now he looked at his hand, a measly weed splayed upon a broad, deliciously round sphere of pale, glowing, womanly flesh. There was hardly any room for him to stand upright on her foot, in fact, due to the bulge of her abundant rump. His feet shifted over her callused pad and the butt’s swell dipped into a crevasse, and now he found himself standing almost sheltered in the crack of her ass.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “I’m here, I’m here.” It was true: her buttocks swelled gloriously around him, and the deep, core warmth of her body radiated gently from this most private fissure on a woman’s body. Crookedly his grin stretched and he leaned into the cleft: not knowing where to start, he tried fitting his face in the narrowest part of the valley, between her pelvis and above her asshole.

It fit, perfectly, as though it belonged there. His heart charged like six cylinders, his cock ached hungrily, and beyond thought he undressed the rest of the way. He simply leaned forward, placing his weight upon his face in the giant butt, and shucked the unwanted cloth as though it were on fire. Whether it wheeled behind him in a playful arc or fluttered inside the enclosure of her feet, directly beneath her pussy, was immaterial. It was gone and he was nude and he was nestled into the crack of a giant woman’s ass and it was perfect.

He reached up, clawing at her skin, trying to pull himself up: fucking her ass would be a good place to start. He just couldn’t get a handhold on the broad, full arc of her rear. He attempted to wedge himself in there, leveraging one massive ass cheek against the other, but though he could suspend himself for a moment, it was no position for fucking.

“Two minutes.”

Time was moving too quickly! Was she lying? Shit, shit, shit! He considered kissing her anus, anyway, because it was so pretty and cute despite its size, but the heat around it carried the musk of human waste and fermentation. All sorts of questions erupted in his mind, like what she ate, how she got food, did she leave the cavern to hunt, did people bring her food, where was the exit if she left, and it took tremendous willpower for him to push them away, push them all away, tumbling out the side of his head as he focused on how to have sex with this gigantic woman.

Or have sex at her. Her words came back to him and threatened to carry greater meaning; he slapped himself, hard, and dropped to his knees. He could not kiss her poopy butthole, but her pussy was right there. He crawled over the gentle curve of her inner sole and lowered himself to the sands once more. They were warmer here than outside, because of her immense body, surely, and he stood up and immediately bumped his head and shoulders against her vulva.

He collapsed to the slightly warmer sand and winced against the pain of wrenching his spine just the wrong way. But he only had two minutes, he couldn’t give up now! He had to have an orgasm in two minutes or… he didn’t know what. The giantess spoke in riddles. Did she have a name? Another thought to boot out of his ear as he righted himself upon his knees and bent slightly to study her pussy.

There was hardly any lighting in here at all; he raised his hands to stroke her outer labia, get familiar with the landscape here. She was hairy, very hairy down here, which was a turnoff for him. He liked shaven women, he loved a pretty little pussy where you could see everything. He thought it awfully generous of himself to like the fresh, new pussies where everything was still tucked inside, as well as the old, used pussies where everything splayed like a badly made hoagie. It didn’t do to be picky, when a willing pussy presented itself to you, but hairy was where he drew the line. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the clock was ticking down, so he parted the coarse underbrush as best he could and felt around for the hotter, softer, wetter curtains of flesh.

They weren’t wetter. Shit, lube. She said that. Well, he didn’t have to crawl inside her after all. Spitting frantically into his palms, he slathered his face—it dried immediately—and stiffened his spine to insert his face and then his whole head inside the start of her vulva.

She didn’t smell good, was the first thing he noticed, but he was going to hold his breath anyway.

She really was sticky inside, and it tugged on his hair as he shoved his head into her. She just was not going to make this easy for him.

But he stuck with it, kneeling in the slightly warmer sand, and he gripped his cock and commenced to pumping. Yes, this was the way to do it, with her warm pussy all around his head. He only had to duck his chin to get a fresh breath when he needed it, but he liked to hold his breath when he was cumming anyway.

Warm tissues embraced his cheeks and boffed gently around his neck. It was pretty comfortable in here after all, he decided. The thunderous voice said something, and he didn’t know what, but he was coming along nicely anyway. He wondered if he could love an older woman. Obviously 150 years was much older than him, that’s not what he meant. He meant someone with all that gray hair and that fleshy face and rounded nose. But on the other hand, she was gigantic, and he decided that he could learn to. He pumped faster and decided, yes, he could learn to love a woman like this. She was giving him something amazing, after all: he could make the sacrifice to please her the way she wanted. He had no idea what that looked like, she didn’t even hint at that, but he’d learn.

He stroked faster. He could get a little cottage not far from here, it was a lovely countryside, and he’d miss city life but he’d be trading it for a big, beautiful woman of his own. Here he was! He’d done it! His entire head was swallowed inside her pussy, and he was about to cum! Everything was going great! It started out rough, sure, but he’d turned it around and made it work!

Tentatively he slipped his tongue from between her lips and tasted the little wings of tissue around his head. Whatever she had smelled like in here (and he was convinced he could get used to it), she tasted very… interesting. It was like licking a weak 9-volt battery. He was more excited by the thought of his tiny tongue pressed against a wide sheet of her vaginal flesh than actually doing it, but it wasn’t bad! He turned his head to gasp for air, then resumed nuzzling the entrance to the huge pussy.

He stroked faster. He could hear her voice through layers of her pussy, but he didn’t care. Oh, that’s right, her clit was around here somewhere, wasn’t it? He should definitely be able to find it on a woman this size. He couldn’t always find it on his partners, but on a giantess it should be a piece of cake. He panted harder and had to nod for air more frequently. His thighs tightened and his belly tightened and his thighs tingled and he straightened his spine as much as he could, tilted his head back and shoved himself face-first deeper into her, as deep as he could reach, and he was about to bring one leg up to try and stand up inside her when his balls clenched and his palm got hot and slick with his own spooge. He hated when that happened, tried to make it shoot away, but it was a useful lube now. He stroked harder and faster than before, crying out inside the giantess’s vagina, screeching as loudly as he liked. The thought of his tiny voice threading its way up inside her pussy excited him and, to his surprise, he came again really hard. Or maybe it was the same orgasm. Hard to tell, but it was fantastic. Slowly the moment began to ebb and his hand slipped away from his aching cock.

He gasped for breath for a while, with the gigantic vulva sucking on the back of his head, waiting for his thighs and knees to regain their strength. He allowed himself to collapse from her pussy. It seemed as though she didn’t want to let him go: sheets of pussy flesh clung to his skull, sliding reluctantly over his scalp. He collapsed to the slightly warmer sand, stretching out against her wrinkled ankle, granules coating his head thoroughly. As long as he didn’t fall into his own cum, that’s all he was worried about.

This was awkward. His body cooled down where he lay, and he stared up into the gigantic toothless maw he’d fucked with his own skull. The scraggly bush of old pubes was interesting, artistically, except that it represented the privacy he’d just left. Parts of her pussy hung like rubbery curtains just above him. Her fat thighs bulged together, and he was aware of how vulnerable he was between her muscular calves.

“I’m coming out,” he belted out as hard as he could. Crawling over the slightly warmer sand, he tried to pick his way over the giantess’s huge, dirty feet as best he could without, you know, touching them too much. His cock dribbled a thin thread of cum, silvery in the bioluminescence, over the sole of one foot. He doubted she’d notice. His hand slipped and his arm disappeared between her toes, and now his sticky cheek bore the imprint of her third toe. He was just collecting all sorts of grime now, wasn’t he? Grimacing, he tumbled clear of her folded feet and crawled some distance from her huge, bloated rump.

“Time’s up,” she said, relatively quietly. “Did you get what you came here for?”

Fine, if she was going to be a pill, he’d go along with it. Anything to end this early. “Yes, I did, my goddess.”

“How was it? Was it everything you dreamed of?”

“It was incredible.” He strained for even that simple word, and he disliked himself for lying about it. “I’m just spitting sand out of my mouth, in case you heard that. Not you.”

“Well, you did it. You climaxed within three minutes, and by the bonds of our contract, you’re free to go.”

He thanked her, somehow straining for different but similar-meaning words to tell her how wonderful she was, all the things she doubtlessly wanted to hear. “I’ll see you soon,” he called from the corridor, and even he wondered why he felt that necessary to say. He’d come back or he wouldn’t. It didn’t sound like she cared, and he certainly didn’t owe her anything.

Hmm. Except maybe some food. She’d talked about that.

His clothes and possessions were undisturbed at the mouth of the cave. There was a creek not far from here, he knew, where he could rinse the goop out of his hair, but he could only brush the drying spooge off his stomach and leg with a clump of crabgrass. It didn’t feel comfortable but it made him feel tough, in a way. Rustic, like the hardened men who formed this land, who did whatever it took to get the job done. He admired his mostly clean cock before pulling up his pants when suddenly he remembered his boxers, trapped between her calves, under her cunt.

Well, she could keep them. A little souvenir of his visit, something to remember him by. He laughed at the notion, picking his way down the cow path on legs that were slow to recover. No one asked about his conquest in the town where he was staying, which was weird, because who else got to fulfill a lifelong dream like that? But maybe it was just as well, he figured, undressing in his hotel room, because this wasn’t everyone’s thing. He didn’t want to force his kink on anyone.

It felt great to shampoo the old woman’s paste out of his hair. Suds and sand sailed over the rounded contour of his body; sand and his own juices broke up and dissolved down his legs. He watched the swirling mixture of lovemaking and raw earth trudging between the little square tiles to escape into the steel drain.