Cheating a Little, pt 3

What was he doing? Miranda stared at the shadowy ceiling, massaging her left breast. Her right hand rested on her belly, waiting for him to get where he was going. It was ticklish down there, but it was hard to pick out any specific actions. “Hey, Ricky, get on with it. What’re you doing?”

If he responded, his reedy little voice didn’t reach her ears. She sighed fitfully and slid her ankles up to loosely fold her legs in a triangle, a wide arena around the tiny man. Her nails scraped through her dark hair, intending this as a warning to the slow-poke between her thighs. She thumbed her nipple and was about to grab him to yell at him, when things changed.

There was a pinch on one side of her slit, then another on the other. They seemed to be rising. Was he climbing her pussy? She was tempted to curl up and look at him, curious as to what this could look like, but she forced herself to lie still and focus on the sensation. When she felt his tiny fists clutch at the thicket of hair on her mons, she courteously slid her long, shiny fingernails back. “What are you thinking about, Ricky? Where are you going?”

Her voice, calling out to him over her rolling bodyscape, heightened the tension racing through his little body. The giantess wanted to know what he was up to, crawling over her pussy. She didn’t look down at him, just called out to him across her breasts and belly, down to the valley that ringed him. Somehow this made her seem incredibly powerful, this massive force in the distance he was fucking with remotely.

Ricky hung from her pussy hairs and let his slim, naked body drape over the searing tissues of her vulva. It was incredible, this hot and steaming entrance into her hips, gushing with delicious, sticky juices that seemed to spread all over him of their own volition. He was now face-to-face with her sweet little clit, but to grab onto it right now would be disastrous. His hands would slip, his body would fall, and his ex-girlfriend would get impatient. At her size, she could as easily grab him and stuff him wherever she wanted, as reach down and pinch his skull like bubble wrap. He was living his fantasy, but he had to get this right for her, too. She was his giantess, his queen, his goddess.

She always had been. What a kick in the face that was, when she finally dumped him. He’d cheated on her more than she knew, but he got cocky and stupid. The morning after fucking some girl he met at the bar, he was walking downtown with her to find a place to get breakfast. It was his dumb luck that he spotted Miranda a block away, on her own. What was she doing here? Unsure how to handle the situation, Ricky never let go of the strange girl’s hand, trying to play this off as a casual gesture of friendship. He waved at his girlfriend, even introduced them in a playful tone, but Miranda knew what was up. She simply said “I can’t be here,” and she blew past them as though they were begging for change, and in the middle of his scrambled eggs and hash browns his phone vibrated in his pocket. Miranda informed him that was the end, and he didn’t fight it. He’d been stupid and greedy and ungrateful, and Miranda was absolutely in the right.

It didn’t work out with that girl, of course. She was just a saucy piece of fluff that came and went. Ricky couldn’t even remember her goddamn name. There were other women, too, and they took the edge off his ache, but there were always those fucking quiet hours when he couldn’t sleep. Lying there, arm over his eyes, listening to music, he thought he smelled Miranda’s perfume. He washed his pillowcase a dozen times before it finally shed the aroma of her thick, luscious, dark hair. And no matter what video he watched on his phone, he always set it aside and lost himself in jacking off to the vision of that huge, bulbous ass creeping backward up his chest and smothering his face. He missed the scrape of her hairs over his lips, how her flexing anus sought out the tip of his nose, how his vision blurred over the vast hillsides of her butt cheeks, then blacked out beneath them.

And here she was, applying him like a mailing label to the epicenter of her sexuality. With two fistfuls of her scraggly hair, he hung between her labia, her inner folds slipping out to kiss and taunt him. He breathed in deeply, trying to capture the aroma of her vagina in his lungs, to own some piece of her inside his body.

Ricky leaned his head in and kissed her clit: it was hot, it tasted electric. It throbbed and rose in greeting; he flattened his hot little tongue over its surface and licked it clean. He licked the fuck out of it, nuzzling his face into her hood, lapping out all the juices. He even attempted to unhinge his jaws and suck the little button into his mouth, but he could only wedge the tip of it inside and he nearly choked on his own laughter. He was so small! He was so fucking small, he couldn’t even take Miranda’s clit into his mouth! But speaking of swallowing…

Ricky licked his lips and held his breath and plunged one thin leg between her hot folds, plunged it into her lips all the way up to his hip. It was slick and smooth in there, absolutely no resistance from anything. Eyes wide and round, he drew his other leg back and inserted it as well, and now her vulva nursed at his hips, crawling up his body with languorous confidence. She had him, she absolutely had him. And he wanted that. And she knew it.

“Oh, my God.” Miranda’s breath hitched in her chest as something like two slim fingers slipped inside. “Ricky, what are you doing?” The question was useless: she didn’t want an answer, and it was apparent what he was doing. She was surprised, her mind struggled with the thought of an entire human being—her unfaithful, generously sexy ex-boyfriend—inserting himself into her pussy. Now she really wanted to watch, to see what that could possibly look like. Later, she told herself, another time. She would have so much time with her personal lover, her little pocket-fuck. There would be so many opportunities to try all sorts of things with him, she thought. She dug her head back into the pillows, arched her spine. Her thighs tingled and burned with the gentle, steady sensation of the little mass of shrunken man sliding into her pussy. Should she clench him? Would that be good? She gave him a squeeze, she could hardly hold back, and the sensation went away.

“Fuck! Goddamn it! Fuck!” She yelled once, then caught herself and looked guiltily at the bedroom window. The heavy velvet curtains were closed, but still. “Ricky? Are you okay? Talk to me, baby, I’m sorry if I‌ hurt you.”

Far from hurt, Ricky was aflame with arousal. His entire body was like a slender penis, sparking up and down its length with wanting to dive in there and fuck this gigantic pussy as hard as he could. He’d gotten both legs inside, his raging erection disappeared between lavish curtains of flesh, and her pussy seemed like it was going to suck him down to his chest, when suddenly it squeezed. An irresistibly powerful clench emerged through the layers of pussy walls and hugged his hips hard.

It frightened him, for a moment. Where did those muscles come from? There was no warning: he was wading into her, and then suddenly these iron bands seized him and squeezed him. For a hot moment he wondered if they could actually shatter his pelvis, and then abruptly his legs spurted out and he found himself dangling once more, lying upon a twitching, angry, hungry vulva. He laughed so hard he nearly lost his grip, but he hung on and shook against her labia, kissing her clit in relief.

There was no way for Ricky to call back to Miranda’s anguished voice, to let her know he was all right. He wished he could tell her how funny this was: he loved to make her laugh almost as much as he loved to make her cum. He could just see the range of her expressions as he finally got to the end. She was such a great audience, curling up and collapsing, helpless with laughter. For a moment he wondered about the connection between making someone laugh and bringing them to orgasm, but his body was cooling down, thickly painted in her juices, so he inserted himself right back into her pussy.

He heard her relax. That was a good sign, and if she liked that, she’d love this. His forearms began to tremble as he hung from her hairs, so he released his grip and spread his arms wide. His biceps smacked lightly over the thick slabs of her labia, as her pussy eagerly sucked him within. Now he lay nearly horizontal, lodged securely in the entrance to her vagina, staring up at the giantess’s twitching, writhing folds of flesh. He gasped as her living canal squirmed around him, gently hugging his entire body, holding back from spitting him out like a moment before. He gasped again when he saw the line of her long, dark nails flash over the ridge of her pubic hairs.

“Oh, my fucking God,” Miranda sighed, when she felt her little lover insert himself again. It was so hard not to clench him. She wanted to so badly, her pussy ached for it, but she held off for the time being. Her left hand mashed her breast like a stress ball, and her right one finally made its move. Her fingertips sifted through the kinky hairs and situated around her clit. She moved slowly, so Ricky would have plenty of time to get out of the way, to see what was coming and adjust. Her index and middle fingers gripped her clit and she started to grind it in slow, steady circles, to show the shrunken man what she was going to do. Her fingers would go no further, but he should keep his little arms away from the area, where she rubbed her pink bean meditatively.

That shouldn’t stop him from whatever else he was trying, she thought. Her hips rolled, her buttocks ground into the mattress, as she carried her little man along and started to whip herself up.

Thick, copious juices welled up under Ricky’s armpits. It was exciting to witness, what with her twitching, anxious pussy, and now the honey it spat up and flowed around his little body. Miranda was so hot inside, almost his own body temperature, but his sweat was immediately dissolved and lost in her own vaginal secretion. It was awesome to think about, how anything he could produce was immediately subsumed by his giantess lover, gone as though it never existed.

He looked down at the rosy, glistening rolls of skin that suckled his chest. Could that happen to him? Could this huge pussy actually swallow him whole and absorb him? He chuckled unsteadily at his own stupidity, of course not, that’s not how bodies worked. But still, he pedaled his long legs around inside her, and he could not feel the bottom. He couldn’t find where her pussy ended. It was a lot like skinny-dipping in the middle of the night, except the deep end was his ex-girlfriend’s cunt. He could tread water, and he loved the sensation of her silken tissues gliding over his bare legs, but if he lost his grip, would she swallow him up? And could he get out again?

Ricky looked at the oozing, gelatinous fluids that welled around his arms, around and over them. He swished his arm around a bit, tentatively: again, there was no drag or resistance to anything. It simply glided over her huge labia as smoothly as a steel ball rolling over a slap of polished marble. If his arms got tired, or if the vagina gave him one good slurp, he could be pulled inside in a heartbeat. He reached up for those dense hairs sprouting copiously above him. The kinky hairs scraped between his fingers, but the juices prevented him from getting a good hold.

Ricky let his body go motionless, floating within the embrace of her twitching muscles and caressing tissues. He didn’t think he wanted to stimulate her anymore, maybe he needed to conserve his strength. But just overhead, her fingertips and long nails continued to churn into her mons, pinching her clit painfully and dragging it around. Nervously he raised one arm, hoping to grab onto the tip of a finger, signaling to her somehow that she should also calm down and go easy on him. But her fingertips were just slightly too far, moving too fast. And moving faster all the time.

Miranda gulped down air and swore at her lazy little lover. “The fuck are you doing, Ricky? I can feel you in there, but it’s like you’re not even trying.” She laughed, pausing from her ministrations to pat him on the head, gently, urging him along. “Come on, guy. Show me what you got. Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

Oh, well: even if he wasn’t moving, she could still feel the little morsel of meat lodged in her cooch. He was like a thick finger stuck inside her. Carefully she experimented with clenching him, just to feel him better. He didn’t pop out, so she grinned to herself and let her pussy hug him as much as it wanted. She shimmied her shoulders into the pillows, her body humming pleasantly, and teased her nipple into hardness before pinching it. Distantly she wondered if the pinch she gave her own boob would have been too much for Ricky’s shrunken head. It was a hell of a thought, the forces she applied to herself being lethal for the sexy little man embedded in her pussy.

She was getting closer. Miranda begged Ricky to please start moving again. Her tone grew urgent and her breathing became ragged, as the fire stirred in her hips and her clit set off electric arcs up her body.

Ricky knew what these motions meant, he’d felt them shuddering around his head on many occasions. She was going on without him! Maybe that was his only hope, to get her off sooner rather than later, before his arms weakened. Screwing up his courage, he took a deep breath (redolent with his ex-girlfriend’s intimate musk) and started kicking around inside her. His legs pumped powerfully, sliding over the tissues and fighting against the clenches. It was an interesting exercise, he found. Which muscle groups was he working out? How much of his body could he incorporate? Keeping his eyes on the huge, round fingertips that abused her sweet clit not far from his face, he experimented with twisting his hips and spine inside her. No matter how she clenched him, her juices allowed him to twist and shift. That was good! He just needed to keep his upper body strength to keep himself from slipping inside her.

“There you go, oh God, there you go little man.” Miranda wished Ricky were large and lying on top of her, so she could cover his face in grateful kisses. Whatever he was doing inside her was pushing all of her buttons. “Keep it up, keep doing whatever you’re doing, you little fucker.”

Her immense hips started rocking, carrying him along with all the weight of an afterthought. Ricky’s head whipped back and forth as her massive ass practically bounced on the mattress. Briefly he wondered if he’d be safer inside her, with her tissues hugging him in place, cushioning all impact. But the threat of drowning within the depths of her womb was not at all enticing, so he pedaled inside her entrance with all of his might. His knees pumped higher and higher, until they started bumping against the tender tissues right inside her vulva.

Ricky was kicking her G-spot. Miranda’s eyes flew open wide as she felt the gentle, insistent thudding inside her. It wasn’t very hard, but it kept up without breaking. She let go of her tit to grab a pillow and stuff it into her face, so she could scream as every last muscle inside her belly and legs seized taut and shuddered with a powerful climax. Was she crushing him? She could barely think about him, any concern was pushed out of her head as wave after wave of erotic energy knocked her around. She cried, she whimpered into the pillow, sobbing gratefully with the tremendous emotional release. Her fingers left her clit, but the tiny little man wouldn’t stop squirming. She relished him for a few moments before enough was enough.

Thick, long fingers fished behind Ricky’s little body. He was too slippery for them to get a grip on, but one finger bluntly wedged between his thighs and the other made space for him to slip out. Cold air kissed his drenched skin as he tumbled into Miranda’s cushioning palm. He flew over her vast bodyscape and found himself hovering above her face. Her hair was a tangled forest, wreathed around wild eyes and a gaping mouth.

“You… oh, my God, Ricky. That was one of the best.” Miranda fixed her smouldering eyes upon the measly, gummy little man in her hand. She loved him so badly, she never stopped loving him, even when he hurt her. And now he was here, repentant, slathered in her cunt’s juices, and she wanted to just gobble him up.

Ricky didn’t know what it meant when one of her eyebrows raised, not until her smirk widened into a gaping pit of ivory teeth and writhing tongue. “Holy fuck, no!” he screamed into the darkness as her hand upended and he tumbled through the warm bedroom air. Her lovely eyes closed ecstatically, her nose flared and rose back, and her jaws opened impossibly wide to catch him.

His palm smacked against one of her incisors. His head whipped back as his shoulders rammed against her tongue. Then his cum-coated body slid easily to the back of her throat, gliding right over the roof of her mouth, and he screamed his head off. His voice echoed sharply inside her, a frenzied scream that went on and on…

Ricky paused. He wasn’t in her throat. His bare feet felt the back of her tongue pressed up against her palate. He was resting in the narrow fissure between them, sure, but Miranda had closed her throat off and held him securely. Panting, heart pounding, Ricky carefully picked himself up and wrapped his arms around the tip of her huge tongue. Her tastebuds tickled his chest as she elevated him and stuck his head and shoulders through her lips.

Miranda carefully kept her teeth away from him as she locked her thick lips around his shoulders. Her little lover needed fresh air, all the oxygen he could get after that amazing performance, but she needed him still. Her own juices flowed pleasantly around the sides of her tongue, pooling with her saliva. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture Ricky’s fine little body as her tongue spread and rippled and ground into him.

One thought on “Cheating a Little, pt 3

  1. Loving this more and more, especially the ‘keeping him’ attitude of Miranda. In some ways this also pleasantly reminds me very much of your sizeriot entry “It’s a lot to take in”, which keeps popping back up in the back of my mind lots of times. Of course I can’t claim (yet) to have read the majority of your work, so my points of reference are somewhat limited! Let me just say I love your way of describing internal emotional / mental states in your stories, and the nuances in them, the inner conflicts and the passion.

    Liked by 1 person

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