It was inaccurate to say Ricky was completely comfortable. He never minded Miranda lying on top of him in the past. Sometimes he preferred it: she demurred and complained about her weight, claiming she didn’t want to break his ribs, but sometimes he earnestly requested Miranda to please join him on the bed and roll on top of him. That done, he only wanted her to lie there, more or less motionless. She gave up her protests and nestled her jaw upon his shoulder, and her breath in his ear would raise goosebumps all up and down his side in the most pleasant way. Her breasts mashed into his chest, and her thighs pressed into his thighs, and once he was sure she was done squirming and complaining, then he would pull in a deep breath and sigh contentedly in her thick, sweet-smelling hair. In this state he could linger happily for five minutes, but no longer because then Miranda complained of being bored, and she’d roll off and trot out of the room while he lay on the bed, glowing in pleasure.
It wasn’t the same now. Yes, his face was full of her hair, but it was her springy, scratchy pubic hair that nested around his upper body, and it didn’t exactly smell like her scented shampoo right now. And she was placing her full weight upon his little body right now, sure, but half of him was crushed under her mons, driving him hard into the mattress. His spindly legs stuck out from under her pussy, but Bruce was not looking down there. The rutting giant was lying upon his girlfriend and pumping with the romance and finesse of a rhinoceros, clutching Miranda’s shoulders to pull her down onto his erection.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. “Oh, God, that’s so fucking good.” His muscle tone permitted him to pump away for a long time, holding his body partially aloft in a variety of uncomfortable positions to get the job done. Ricky was very aware of his unwelcome weight upon Miranda, and sometimes the gigantic hairy balls swung upon his bare legs, so the tiny man was caressed by two sets of pubes when he might have liked… yeah, no pubes. He would have preferred zero pubes coating him like a scratchy woolen quilt that smelled of various private fluids.
“Fuck my life,” Ricky muttered into Miranda’s vast belly. All he could do was lie there, waiting for his moment. The ceiling of flesh pressed upon him, rocking with the powerful force of the blond bodybuilder’s hips. Holy fuck, that jackass just didn’t quit! Grind, grind, grind, endlessly into the future. After a few minutes of this, Ricky started to feel self-conscious. Had he half the endurance Bruce demonstrated? He was a runner, not a weight-lifter. He always made sure Miranda had been satisfied before he got himself off, but… how long could he fuck? He didn’t recall lasting quite as long as the giant-in-heat plowing his ex into the mattress, though maybe his sense of time was distorted. It would be one thing to be standing outside the door, waiting for the oaf to finish himself off; it was quite another to be lying underneath two mammoth bodies fucking into the interminable future.
For Miranda’s part, she wondered what the hell was taking Bruce so long. His lovemaking consisted wholly of shoving something inside her (and part of that was putting something where she didn’t want it to go) and thrusting it repeatedly for ten or twenty minutes. She liked to fuck when she was high, because that took her out of this monotonous ordeal, but now she was stone-cold sober. There were even times when she was attracted to Bruce’s bulging pecs and pulsing thighs. She liked to dig her nails into his chiseled butt, because when he flexed it was like she couldn’t make a dent. He was a very, very pretty man, to be sure, and he was handy around the house. There was no question he adored her. He just couldn’t… show it in a way that meant something to her. As her head mashed into the pillows, over and over, Miranda wondered how long she could put up with this, whether all the benefits around Bruce outweighed his simple and limited needs for her, needs that could be satisfied by literally any other woman in the city. Hell, by a deftly carved cantaloupe, if it came to that.
The tickle under her belly brought her back to her senses. Ricky! Fuck! The little creep was stuck under her! How’d he get there? She clutched the sheets, preparing to roll over and tug him free, except that moose of a boyfriend was crushing her into the bed. She twisted her spine one way, tilted her hips another way, but she couldn’t create enough space for the shrunken ex-boyfriend beneath her.
If anything, Bruce broke off his grunting for a moment. “Am I hurting you babe? Please tell me I’m not hurting you again.”
That was strange, coming from the man who regarded it as a point of pride to bruise her cervix. “No, babe, you’re fine. I’m just getting comfortable.”
“That’s good, I’d hate to stop right now. You feel so fucking good!” He returned to moaning and kneading her shoulders. “I can’t believe it, your perfect ass right in my hips… I wish I could show you how good that feels.”
“Yeah, baby, I’m glad.” She sure wished he could make her feel as good as that sounded. They agreed on that point. The lump of tiny man beneath her gave her an idea. “Hey lover, you mind if I raise my hips up? It’s getting hard to breathe underneath you.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said slowly. Bruce was always disappointed when Miranda asked for anything that suggested he wasn’t a perfect lover. Fortunately, he loved her ass up in the air, so this was a request he was ready to comply with. “Just hold on, let me get my legs up…”
The lift of Miranda’s immense belly was an immense relief to Ricky, though emerging from the shadows came with its own risk of being seen by the ogre. Her belly peeled off him, pubes rising off his legs, affording him the view of Bruce’s hewn-from-marble thighs, now charging at him. He clamped one hand over his mouth and clutched his clothes with the other arm, rolling to his front and peddling desperately up the rumpled bedsheet to escape the huge knees adjusting closer and closer to his frail little body. Bruce had no idea he was down there, so every gesture the giant made was a potential disaster. As Miranda’s long thighs closed in to form an arch above Ricky, Bruce’s knees drove closer and closer. On two legs and one arm, Ricky rose and scrambled up the bed, heading for the pillows…
WHAM! One massive boob swung down from nowhere, blindsiding him but good. She threw him completely off his feet, sending him sprawling to the side, and he rolled to a stop in the divot around his giantess’s huge elbow in the mattress. He lost all sense of direction momentarily and took a few breaths to reorient himself. He found himself staring up the length of Miranda’s bicep, rising into the depths of her short black sleeve. Was it strange that she was keeping her shirt on for this lovemaking session? She never did that with him, as he recalled. They both joyously stripped down to their natural states and romped together, lights on or off. Why hadn’t she pulled her shirt off to have sex with Bruce? Why hadn’t he tugged her shirt off over her head?
All conjecture was shelved as her boob came swinging at him again, enrobed in her loose black tee. It spun heavily in space, directionless, like a huge, erotic wrecking ball. Ricky loved Miranda’s boobs, and now that it was large enough to completely cover him, he was intrigued by the all-encompassing love of her tit, and yet the simply physics of it, the massiveness of all that flesh spoke to something primal in him, and it strongly urged him not to get crushed. However, he was unable to right himself as his body kept trying to tumble toward her elbow.
“Miranda… hey, Miranda!” he hissed up at her jaw. Right now her immense head was held aloft, just above the edge of the pillows, heaving massively with the tremendous forces colliding with her rear. “Miranda, watch it with your tits, okay?”
Slowly, rocking as it went, the huge head turned toward him. His girlfriend’s lovely face was now a disaster of design: her eyes looked crazy, leering upside down at him; her chin jutted out under her upper lip and her upper incisors; and he could stare straight up both her flaring nostrils. “Shut… the fuck… up,” she whispered at him. He found it disturbing to watch her mouth move, from this extreme perspective.
“You knocked me on my ass. My clothes are all over the place. If Bruce sees them, he’s going to wonder what’s up.”
Miranda’s broad bottom lip disappeared beneath her upper incisors, and her nostrils gusted hot air into him.
“Did you already tell him about the pills, the shrinking pills? Does he already know about them?”
“Because if he sees my clothes, maybe he’ll think they’re doll’s clothes or something, but if you told him about the pills, then he’s going to know something’s up. Even if he doesn’t know it’s me, he’s going to suspect something. You know? His brain will be primed with the knowledge that people can shrink, and then here’s these extremely detailed little doll’s clothes.”
The huge lips pulled back to reveal two wide, gleaming rows of savage, white teeth, glinting in the dim bedroom light. “Ricky… you shithead… shut… the fuck…”
“Which, that doesn’t make sense either. Why did my clothes shrink with me? If that’s just a pill, like a shrinking chemical, it should’ve just affected my body. But look, my shoes shrank with me.” He pointed at the pair of urban running shoes, chunky and expensive, lying almost directly beneath where her protruding nipple swung in a slow, tight circle, behind the sheet of black cotton blend.
The giantess’s jaws opened wide. “Oh, my fucking God!” she belted. Her right arm twisted, and her right hand flew up from under the pillows and smacked down on Ricky, hard. Stars swam in his vision, encased in darkness as he was. He struggled to catch his breath, and he wondered if she’d broken his nose. Shit, she could’ve broken more than that.
The relentless grinding thrusts finally relented. “Uh, something wrong, there, Miranda?” Bruce’s voice was getting ragged from all the grunting and moaning; his tone was short now. He’d been getting close, the worst time to interrupt.
“No, no, baby,” she babbled. “It’s all good.”
“You sure? Did I hurt you again? I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“I’m fine, sugar. It’s just…” Her mind clicked and clacked rapidly. “I’m getting a cramp in my hip. It’s just a bad position for me, gotta stretch it out for a sec.” So saying, she heaved her weight to her right knee and extended her left leg, shaking it over the edge of the bed to leave her boyfriend’s thick cock securely embedded inside her.
Bruce swore quietly, then spoke up. “We can quit for a while, if you need to.”
“No, it’s fine, baby. I just needed a moment.” She drew her knee back onto the mattress.
“Because if it’s a pinched nerve in your hip, that’s pretty serious. I can get you some ibuprofen.”
“It’s all right, thank you. Just keep going.”
“Or if you tore a muscle, we’ve got to get a cold compress on it.”
“Just fucking finish up!” she barked, then, softer: “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… I’m getting so close, lover. I was so close, and now we’re not fucking.” She faked a light laugh. “Do you think you can fix that?”
The long, dry chuckle behind her suggested he could, and soon her body was rocking along to the beat of someone else’s drum once more. She pried her hand up slightly. “You little shit, will you shut the fuck up and focus?”
“What?” Ricky had clapped his hands over his ears the second time she shouted.
“Listen,” she started, then dropped her voice as low as she could. “You need to quit fucking around. I don’t give a shit about your little shoes or whatever. Just fucking… hide under the pillows or something.”
Ricky rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs, then slowly clawed his way out of the dent in the mattress, toward his garments. “All right, all right. Jeez, you nearly killed me. Be more careful with me, okay? I’m very fragile right now.” Sprawling on his belly, he caught his shorts and shirt and hooked his shoes by the heels, dragging them all along as he slithered toward the pillows. Behind him, her huge boobs—not huge day to day, but right now impressively enormous—swung in oppositional circles; directly overhead, peeking out of the neck of her shirt, Miranda’s thick larynx bobbed with every gasp of air. It was striking to witness, watching hundreds of gallons of air (from his perspective) dumping into her chest, then hundreds of gallons of carbon dioxide blasting out of her mouth, all in rapid rotation. And the way the lighting was coming in, her caramel skin glowed with supernatural health, looking especially soft and warm in the moment. A long, thin shadow vibrated like a cello string, and Ricky realized he was witnessing her jugular vein in action! It throbbed gently, carrying a steady current of blood through her neck. He was seized by the compulsion to stand up and place his palm upon her vein, to feel that surging power. Imagine, the actual organic machinery of a colossal giantess! He could hyperfocus on any part of her and… in a strange way… get to know her even better. To study her body up close and personal…
He pulled himself up the sheets, below her bobbing chin, directly under her huge face. “Miranda, I just realized something important.”
Her huge face swayed through space above him. “Not now, Ricky.”
“It’s important,” he iterated. Quickly he shoved his clothes under the immense pillow, like stashing camping gear in the foothills. He stretched out directly beneath Miranda’s face, spread-eagled and nude as the day he was born. His cock stood up proudly from his hips, pointing insistently at her thick lips. “I’ll be quiet, just listen.”
She didn’t know if she could, gasping for breath and grunting as her pussy dried up a little. Oblivious, Bruce told her how great she felt. She grimaced and rolled her huge eyes back to the tiny, aroused man.
“Just now, I was crawling underneath your neck, and I saw your pulse. Isn’t that crazy?” Ricky smiled brightly at her, eyes wide. “I could see the blood pumping through your veins, carrying oxygen and nutrients all throughout your huge, beautiful body! There was just something about that, I dunno… seeing something that personal to you, it touched me, in a way. I mean, I know we all have veins and blood and all that… but seeing it in you, working like that… it was incredible.”
Miranda strained to keep silent, swaying over this ridiculous little man while her boyfriend, off in his own little world, pumped his thick sausage into her hips without much concern for her. It was a bizarre scenario, to say the least.
“And when you put me inside you, you know, as soon as my legs slipped inside your pussy… same thing. This size, it makes something ordinary into something magical. I don’t know how else to explain it. I’ve stuck my tongue inside you dozens of times, I’ve fingered you dozens of times, but when it was my whole body going inside you…” His expression became dreamy, and his hands waved as though trying to shape something in the air. “It was so much more than just getting you off. I mean, I love that, I love doing that for you, but there was a kind of connection. Right?”
Thick curly locks of dark hair shook against Miranda’s cheeks as she stared at the ridiculous little man. Were the shrinking pills harming his brain?
“It was something incredible to be inside you like that, all of me inside you. Part of it was being suddenly aware, right, of all of your workings. How your pussy functions, how it’s connected to your heart and your brain, what it means to you to actually let another person inside you. That’s, wow, that’s just something I’d never considered before.” He nodded at her slowly. “I’ve never let someone inside me before, but you’re built for that. And there I was, not just my dick but all of me inside you. Inside… you! Wow. And then on top of that, it was like you were telling me how much I meant to you in that moment. Ha, no, don’t give me that look. It’s true, it’s obvious. You had me in your hand, completely your control, and your first task for me was to rub me into your pussy, right away. First or second. You were hot for me, and you had me, and you placed me right where you needed me… because it was me that you needed. So then I’m surrounded by you, I’m sliding deeper inside you, feeling you all around me, and all I can feel is how happy this is making you. This intimate, important part of your body, and more than anything you want me in there, because it’s me, and you’re sharing something deep and personal with me in the most powerful way possible…”
Miranda stared at him. His words… she’d rarely heard that tone of voice before. He sounded rapturous, dreamlike, but she didn’t question a single thing he said. In fact, it sounded right in a way: as soon as she had him tiny, she wanted him inside her, but that was supposed to be his kink, not hers. What happened there? Why was that her instinct?
Her big, brown eyes ran down his narrow sides, watching his soft little belly catch the shadows as he breathed. His legs were long, fine runner’s legs, not beefy stacks like Bruce’s. Nicely carved calves, long and slender feet. His toes were so tiny! Miranda grinned through her begrudging tolerance to see those insanely cute little toes. She had the impulse to stick out her tongue and scoop them up into her mouth, just to feel those fine little toes over her taste buds. Where did that impulse come from? What was it about seeing a tiny, naked little man… no, her ex-boyfriend, her favorite lover…
What was he doing? She watched him cup his balls with one hand and clutch his cock in his fist, giving it long, slow strokes. “I’m so sorry, Miranda. I fucking blew it. I had something amazing with you, and I was stupid and crazy and selfish. I wish I could wipe it all out of our history, but I can’t. I’m so sorry I treated you like that. You meant everything to me, but I didn’t show you that. I didn’t give you any reason to believe it.” His fist pumped faster, and he folded his legs into a large triangle. She knew he did that to increase the tension in his inner thighs when he came.
He was… what did he think he was doing right now?
“Maybe I’ll die tonight. I fucked up again and made myself small, and now that big monster’s pumping into your butt. If he finds me, that’s the end of me.” Ricky shrugged against the sheets. The fine thread count meant less to his miniature shoulders, now able to pick out more tactile details. “But I had an amazing time with you, Miranda, and I’m grateful for that. I got a second chance!” He laughed quietly, staring directly into one huge eye as he stroked faster and faster. “More than I deserve. Thank you, Miranda, for not killing me right away. I’m so glad I got to experience you one more time. I hope I was good for you.”
The giantess breathed harder, gusting warm, humid air over his bare skin. His cock was raging now, overstimulated by her beautiful eyes, her thick lips hanging immediately above him. His heart pounded in his chest, ready to shatter with love for her. It was an impossible situation, and he was in the middle of it, so why not finish it with something absurd? He mouthed private, earnest things to her, stroking harder and harder. The sight of her face thrusting over him, no matter why, was intensely erotic. This huge, vast face, full of the features he adored, shrouded by thick ringlets of beautiful hair… it was too much… “Miranda…”
His abs clenched, his thighs strained. A tiny jet of white milk shot straight up and painted the middle dip in her upper lip. His fist pumped his cock furiously, rattling all the energy out of it, whipping his body to a peak and tiring it out completely. He cried out in ecstasy when he saw her enormous tongue come rolling out, lazily wiping away his dot of passion, withdrawing once more. “I always loved the taste of you,” she whispered, her voice booming in his ears. He watched her eyelids close, her cheekbones swell, and then her lips pulled back to bare her teeth as she emitted the quiet, telltale squeak he thought he’d never hear again.
She could be loud. When Miranda came, she could howl like a wolf. But there were a few times when she and Ricky were doing something ill-advised, like fucking in public with the flimsiest shelter between them and hundreds of prying eyes, and in those moments she was almost completely silent. He’d bury his face in her neck and grunt, and she’d let out the cutest little squeak, right in his ear. It shot down his neck and set all his nerves on fire. And that’s what she did right now. She opened her jaws wide and Ricky stared into the depths of her wet, flexing, pink cavern, and he saw her throat flex just behind her thick, rolling tongue to let out a squeak that pierced his chest. He nearly came again; hell, he nearly jumped up and threw himself down her throat, to live in the heart of that moment.
“You okay, babe?” Bruce’s voice was dull, annoyed.
Miranda’s eyes flew open, and she stared at Ricky in alarm. “Yeah, I’m fine babe,” she said, barely controlling her tone. “What’s up?”
“I dunno… you moved all of a sudden. Wondered if I was hurting you again.” Was that a mocking question?
Miranda’s cheeks burned. Ricky tried to tell her it was okay, it had nothing to do with them. She leaned her massive head down, puckered her thick, full lips. She shoved them into Ricky’s slim hips, pulsing around his cock like she could suck it free and swallow it. Then she wrapped her lips around his face and hugged him, kissed him, brushed the tip of his tongue around his lovely cheeks and lovely jaw, held him there for a long moment. This little man, all for herself and no one else. Hers. He belonged to her.
He belonged to her, and he didn’t want it any other way. Her cushioning lips throbbed around his head, and if she sucked him inside and swallowed him down, he’d be the happiest man on the planet, all regrets wiped clean.