Cheating a Little, pt 7

Miranda stared down at Ricky, writhing on the sheets right below her, inches away from her nose. He was so tiny and delicately formed, and somehow even more handsome in this way. All his fine features were even finer, even enticing because it was so difficult to perceive them satisfactorily. You know, you glanced at a person and you knew what they looked like, generally. If you saw them talking and go through a range of expressions, if you can spend any time studying them, then you really get a handle on their appearance. But now so much of that information was hidden, because Ricky’s features were so superfine and reduced. She was very familiar with him, from his normal size, but to see him like this… she had difficulty tearing her eyes away.

Right behind this was an emerging notion, not fully realized but well on its way to surfacing: if he looked so fine and intricate to her, what could her big face look like to him now?

The emergence of this notion was interrupted by an explosion of tender nerves in her backside. Immediately her buttocks clenched defensively; she tried to lurch forward to get away, but her boyfriend held her hip fast. “Hey, off-limits, guy,” she barked back at him.

Bruce chuckled, still rubbing his thumb over his girlfriend’s anus. “C’mon, I’m not doing anything. I’m just touching you. You know, you really got a pretty little asshole. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Yeah, a few people brought it up, she thought. “Knock it off, Bruce. It’s not nice to harass a girl when she’s vulnerable.”

He laughed. “What? How are you vulnerable?” She jerked her hips to demonstrate his iron grip on her pelvis. “Aw, c’mon, babe. I’m your boyfriend, it’s not like I’m gonna rape you.”

Miranda stiffened. Underneath her, tiny Ricky ceased his ecstatic writhing. “Whoa, fucked up. He brought up rape at a time like this?”

Her huge mocha eyes rolled to the side. “Not now, Ricky.”

“Does he talk like this a lot? Are you in trouble?”

“He’s just… he’s stupid. Forget it.” She turned her head to the side, concealing the tiny man under her cheek, both to shut him up and to savor the friendly figure against her skin for a moment longer. It almost blocked out Bruce’s unwanted attention to her butthole. “I said knock it off, Bruce. You’re starting to piss me off.”

“The fuck’s up with your attitude all of a sudden,” he said, quieter. “You were totally hot for me a couple hours ago. What’s going on?”

“Yeah, well… that was a couple hours ago.”

“What changed? I was just working on building the patio, making this place look nice for you. This is the thanks I get?”

Despite his large hand’s grip on her hip, Miranda jerked forward and Bruce’s cock flopped out, smacking against his thigh. Deftly she stuffed her miniature ex-boyfriend under the pillow and leaned on her side to glare at her current boyfriend. “I don’t care what you do to the house or what you buy me. I do not fucking owe you sex, for any reason.”

Bruce’s heavy brow furrowed. “Yeah, but—”

“We talked about this, Bruce. I’m not a hole in the mattress for you to fuck when you feel like it. I’m not a life-support system for a pussy.”

He chuckled at the imagery she evoked. “Right, I know, but I’m just saying.”

She sat up fully, legs folded. “What exactly are you saying right now?”

Her glare was sharp and hot; muscles rose and fell along her cheekbone. Bruce swayed where he knelt on the bed, struggling with internal conflict. At a point like this, a man like that could knuckle under to his partner’s demands and keep the peace or whatever, or he could simply backhand her to remind her of her place. She’d been working hard on him to make the right decision—not to establish dominance in the relationship, and not simply to avoid physical brutality, but to encourage something good in him. He was handsome and handy around the house, but how could she sleep easy with someone who gave up on words and thoughts so quickly, relying on brutal tyranny to get his point across?

She saw him push out his lip for a second. She watched his eyes turn dark and look away, unable to meet her expression. That was a bad sign, being unable to deal with her as a real person. Sometimes she wondered what she actually meant to…

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said slowly. “You’re right. You said not to touch you there, so I won’t. After all, you got so many other fucking awesome places I’m allowed to touch.” He smiled at her, waggling his eyebrows.

In the past, she might have melted at his big, dopey goofiness, his awkward attempt to patch things up and resolve them on a playful note. Bruce really was trying to be a better person. It’s just… now she had an outside observer. Someone else was hearing these conversations. And not just anyone else, either, someone she’d been in a serious relationship with. She winced: someone who slept around on her and betrayed her trust… She wondered if the part of her brain in charge of picking out romantic partners was fried to a cinder or rotted completely away.

“All right, you big lug,” she said, softly. “Thank you for saying that. It makes you a bigger man, really.” The double-entendre there made her blush. Her awareness of the tiny lover listening in, parked right behind where she sat, made her butt blush. Two guys, one bed… how was she going to manage this? “Hey, lover, how about I climb on top of you? You think you could finish that way?”

This definitely took the edge off of having to admit weakness, in Bruce’s mind. The reward of sex covered a multitude of ills. “If that’s what it takes, then I’m sorry for all sorts of things.” Grinning broader, he started to crawl around her to get comfortable on the pillows.

Miranda lashed out, shoving him harshly backward. “Hey, what the fuck?” he said, his expression darkening again. Just as quickly, she straddled his hips and tugged his towels under his head, making a show of tucking his skull comfortably in place until he laughed at her doting. When he straightened his legs and pulled them together, so she could ride him like a banana boat, essentially, she wedged his knees apart and sat between them.

“Look what I’ve done,” she purred, taking up his big, floppy penis in one hand. “It’s all deflated. Let me work on it a little to get it going again.” He had no argument for that and rested his hands behind his head as he watched her lips part, lolling her tongue around the head of his cock.

Ricky couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. The things this rapey gorilla said to her, and she was going down on him now? And he knew exactly what Miranda would say if he called her out: “It’s complicated.” In his experience, those two words were the magic spell women cast to make men shut up and accept the incredibly fucked up and abusive situations they found themselves in. It’s complicated! Well, life’s fucking complicated, but we don’t just lie down and take it. We build walls to protect from wolves, we build houses to protect from rain and snow. We—

The train of thought derailed as he crept from under the pillow, finding himself confronted by his ex-girlfriend’s puckering asshole, peeking from between twin planets of buttery ass-cheek goodness. All air rushed out of his lungs and he laid down to witness, fully appreciate the spectacle. Rows of darling little toe-tips, mirroring each other, lined up cutely at the end of curvy, padded soles, and these stretched in an inviting arc below the Latina goddess’s vast rear. New, unfamiliar thoughts burst in his mind like a string of fireworks, like what would it be like to fuck two of those toes, round and shapely as her butt cheeks, while staring up at a ceiling of insanely gorgeous ass shaking right above him? He wanted to try, really badly, all of a sudden. Would she notice? And if she did, it was just her toes. It wasn’t like he was…

It was like a bucket of ice-cold water, realizing where that sentence was going. He didn’t have the bulk of Bruce, but in some ways, he was absolutely no better.

“I’m sorry, too, Miranda,” he told her huge, throbbing ass. “I’m a creep all the way around, sleeping around with other girls and trying to fuck your toes on the sly. I wonder if there’s a decent guy in this whole city for you to find.” He looked away, ashamed of himself, unable to appreciate the spectacle of her butt, and (for no good reason) hurt that she was fluffing Bruce to fuck him some more. He backed under the pillow again to fold his clothes, maybe roll them up and tuck them in his shoes so there was less to keep track of.

New motion caught the corner of his eye and he looked up. One huge hand was reaching around her vast hip, and one fingernail was tap-tap-tapping beside her anus.

Ricky narrowed his eyes. Was that some new sexual thing she’d developed, fingering her own ass while going down on someone? But she never touched her butthole, only tapped next to it with increasing insistence. Tap-tap-tap. Tap, tap, tap, as he watched. TAP TAP TAP!

Dawn broke on Marblehead, as they say, and he pushed himself upright, blinking. Was that for him?! Was she telling him to… what was she telling him to do? Did she want him to massage her butthole while she was going down on her boyfriend? He grimaced. That was a bridge too far, not because it was a dirty butthole—he’d repeatedly told her how cute it was—but because she wanted him to pleasure her there while she was pleasuring her boyfriend. That was… that was a bit too much. Not the kind of threesome he’d ever envisioned. And how callous was that of her, demanding him to pleasure her, one-sidedly, while she’s going down on that asshole’s cock?

The giantess’s hand unfolded, and her fingers swept around sightlessly. That was weird. Ricky rose to his feet unsteadily, what with the mattress going all wobbly as she really went to down on Bruce’s dick. It was like she was trying to scratch herself, but she couldn’t find her own butt. He shook his head: that made no sense at all. For one thing, her ass was so huge it was unavoidable. How could she…

He stepped closer. No, she was looking for something. She was looking for him! Well… why? He stepped a little closer, pausing to stare appreciatively at her adorable toes, all lined up and scrunched in front of some truly voluptuous soles. Wow, the balls of her feet looked like a loveseat he wanted to stretch out on. More bizarre thoughts: what would it be like to fuck another woman on top of the balls of his ex-girlfriend’s feet? Would she ever consider shrinking down another woman to keep him company? That’s assuming he survived the night here, and it further assumed Bruce would be totally chill or uninvolved with Ricky living in Miranda’s possession. Unlikelihood piled atop unlikelihood… still, it was an incredible thought. Imagine, fucking another big-ass chick doggy style, while looking up at Miranda’s powerful ass, looming right overhead. He’d probably cum so hard, he’d burst into flames.

Unwittingly, the tiny man stumbled too close to the erotic tableau. The tip of Miranda’s fingernail brushed his arm, and in a flash she seized him. He resisted the reflexive urge to shout at her, lest Bruce hear his tiny little pipsqueak voice, but he still struggled to push away her clutching fingers. His head and shoulders stuck out of the bottom of her fist, with her pinky wrapped around his chest; her large thumb ran over his feet, brushing lightly over each of them a few times, and then she brought him into her butt crack. She rubbed his bare feet against her twitching asshole.

“Holy shit, what the fuck is this,” Ricky said, despite himself. All he could see was the sloped horizon of her broad and spreading ass above him; the ceiling was as far away as the night sky. She continued to bump his feet against her butthole; the radial wrinkles leading into her orifice tickled his tiny soles, and his toes kept getting caught in them. It was sexual and playful and just fucking weird, altogether. “What the fuck are you trying to do, Miranda? Are you using me to tease yourself? I really wish I knew what was going through that enormous head of yours.”

Far off in the distance, he heard her voice say, “There we go, much better. Now hold on.” With that, Miranda’s long, curving spine rose into view, crowned by her raven mane of curls. There was so much giantess piling up in front of Ricky, it was mind-boggling. His eyes strained to contain it all, and his brain reeled to comprehend it. And to think, he nearly stumbled under that enormous ass right before she sat up and buried him beneath her… It was difficult for him to decide whether that was desirable.

From her fist he watched her body sway, watched her butt cheeks throb and tense and rise, one after the other; craning his head almost painfully around, he could only just see the massive logs of Bruce’s legs close beneath him. Miranda was reaching blindly, brushing his feet against her inner cheeks in an attempt to guide him… Holy shit, he realized. She wanted to put him literally in her ass! His mind filled with scatological worst-case scenarios. Was this a punishment, somehow? Had she been playing nicey-nice until she had the chance to shove him up her poop-chute, in a grand gesture of revenge?

Her asshole was hot and a little sticky, against his soles. She was talking, way off in the distance, but it was just the usual sweet-talk babble lovers make in bed, to distract themselves from how awkward it all is or to coax each other into… well, Bruce was already lodged deep inside her. And now he was about to be too, if Miranda had her way. Fleetingly he wondered how jealous Bruce would be to know that Ricky was being inducted into the off-limits zone.

“Come on, come on,” Miranda murmured, bouncing gently on the long blond man’s hips. The good thing about this position is that he left her to do all the work, so he could go as deep (or not) as she wanted. He was content to lie there with that shit-eating grin on his face and watch her boobies bounce around. “Come on, get in there…”

“I’m in about as deep as I can go,” Bruce said, smirking. “I thought you didn’t want me to go in too deep. It hurts your service.”

“No, it’s…” Her light laughter was strained, to anyone who cared to pay attention. “Just trying to shift around and get all of your manly meat inside me.”

Bruce sighed contently and closed his eyes, likely thinking of other, unrelated erotic images while she worked his cock. The problem was that that little fucker Ricky couldn’t take a hint if you shrink-wrapped it over the hood of a Charger and drove it into him at over 80 mph. His little feet were squirming around her butthole, but she could’ve used his cooperation to get him inserted. He just wasn’t going along with it, for whatever reason. Yeah, it would be stinky and messy, but if she could just hide him in there and they got away with this, she’d clean him up for days. All she had to do was get Bruce off and cuddle him to sleep, then sneak out of bed to the downstairs bathroom and poop Ricky into her hand. Then she’d take care of him and everything, get his clothes later. At least he’d survive.

But he was fucking with her! He wouldn’t crawl inside when she was sucking Bruce off, and he wouldn’t slip inside when she was nearly crushing him in her fist! It was like he wanted to get caught. Just get the fuck in my asshole, she thought savagely. Some part of her brain was stunned to realize that she’d gotten to a circumstance where this was a reasonable thing to say.

Ricky winced. “You’re hurting me!” he cried, when his foot rolled the wrong way. It was bad enough, trying to breathe with these huge fingers, stronger than steel, were constricting him, but now she seemed to be trying to break his feet off unless he… “All right, fine. If that’s what you think you want…” He looked up at the immense throbbing buttocks. “I guess I have to trust you. Not like I have any options right now.” Pursing his lips in anticipation of disgust, he pointed his toes and rubbed his feet together, guiding them into her puckering asshole. Her skin was seamy down here, and wet tissues slurped at his skin up his ankles, up his shins. The giantess’s hand adjusted her grip on his frail little body, fingertips running up his spine and a thumb on his chest, the better to insert his thighs up to his waist. It was freaky and bizarre to watch his body slowly disappearing into the all-consuming kiss of Miranda’s asshole. There was his cock, no longer hard, flopping around until a ring of pink and raspberry tissues encroached upon his abs. And inside her… inside her once again… it was so hot, so sticky, and he tried not to think about what was waiting for him in there.

As her fingertips planted upon his shoulders and his face rubbed against the pad of her thumb, he started to wonder about how deeply Miranda needed him inside her ass… and for how long.

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