Obsessed

A Transforming World Story

by D.X. Machina

June 12-15, 2005

"Anger and jealousy can no more bear to lose sight of their objects than love."

--George Eliot

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1

◘ ◘ ◘

Will Trenary sat in the bar, stubbing out his cigarette half in anger, half in frustration.

He hadn't intended to go to the bar tonight; heck, he rarely went to the bar as it was. Life for him had become numb routine—work, come home, watch television, sleep, get up,eat, work. It wasn't what he'd envisioned 27 would be like.

He'd figured by now he'd have met a nice girl, settled down. Maybe had a kid—or at least work on having a kid.

It would have to be the right girl, of course. He would have to meet the perfect woman for him.

Of course, that was the problem; he already had.

Unfortunately for Will, the perfect woman was Jill Belisle. She wasn't model-gorgeous, but she was cute, with a petite dancer's build, shoulder length dirty-blonde hair that bounced just-so when she laughed, deep blue eyes that Will thought he could stare into forever.

More than that, though—she was funny, smart, talented. She was easy to be with. Yes, Will believed he could live happily with Jill for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, Jill was married to Dan Belisle. Will's best friend.

And so Will did what any sane man would do when faced with this situation; he'd pushed his feelings deep inside him, especially when he was around Jill and Dan. Most especially when he ran into Jill when she wasn't with Dan. He would keep his fantasies to himself. He would never try to woo Jill away from Dan. He couldn't possibly.

But of course, the feelings that we bury deep have a way of bubbling up uncontrollably.

They'd been at a barbecue—their mutual friend Steve had invited a bunch of the gang over. It had been fun. They'd played bocce ball (poorly, but with trash talking aplenty), and tipped a beer or two, and had a good time.

And Will had done a very good job not noticing when Jill let her guard down, just a bit, and he could see straight up her short summer dress.

And he turned away calmly to go get a beer when Dan and Jill enjoyed a quick-but-passionate kiss.

And he gave no sign to anyone that there was a primitive part of his brain that wanted very much to smash Dan's head in with a rock and drag Jill back to his cave.

Will had behaved himself; nobody could argue differently.

Which is why he was sitting in a suburban sports bar an hour before bar time, trying to stay just buzzed enough to numb the pain, just sober enough to remain fit to drive.

"Tough night, I see."

He wheeled, and saw the man sitting a couple stools down from him, looking back with a blasé countenance.

"Meh," Will grunted, looking at his half-gone Capital Hefeweizen.

The man pulled out a card, and set it by Will.

Will sighed; he was not interested in becoming a Scientologist or Raelian or Amway distributor or whatever else this guy was pushing. Still, his eyes locked on the card,which was simple in its message.

GET THE GIRL OF YOUR DREAMS

Mr. Big Enterprises

MAKING FANTASY REALITY

414-555-1313

The card was blank save those four lines.

Will looked up at the man, and said, quietly, "I can't get the girl of my dreams. Wouldn't be right."

The stranger slid one chair down, and motioned to the bartender. "Tell me about it."

So Will did.

◘ ◘ ◘

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just the polish of the man, the salesman's charm behind the sangfroid. But Will found himself telling the stranger all about Gillian Scott—that is, Gillian Belisle.

"We were just out of college," Will told him, tipping back the fresh beer. "Dan and Steveand I were living in a small house we were renting—Steve was in business school, Dan was in law school, I was working my first job. We had a good time.

"Anyhow, after we'd been there a year we throw an Independence Day party. I mean, we were three twenty-three-year-olds with a house; it was a good time. Anyhow, our friend Rachel—she was two years behind us, going into her senior year—she brings her roommate for the next year to the party.

"I wanted to, man, I wanted to put the moves on right then. But I couldn't; my girlfriend was at the party and we'd been dating for about four months or so, and I thought I liked her. Dan, though—he was single. And he would've been crazy to pass on the opportunity."

The stranger nodded sagely. "Sounds like quite a woman."

"She is," said Will, wiping his eyes. "Anyhow, they hit it off, one thing leads to another, they get engaged two years later, got married last year. The punchline? My girlfriendand I broke up that August. Funny, huh? We hold a Labor Day party, maybe it's me chatting up Jill."

Will looked down at the bar. "No; no. I'm glad Dan got her. At least—you know, he's like my brother. It's just…."

"…You wish you could get a bit of a chance with her too, now and again," the stranger said, completing Will's sentence.

Will nodded mutely. "I—hell, I'd take one night with her, you know? Even if it didn't lead to anything else. Even if that was all I ever got. It'd be enough."

The stranger nodded, and smiled wanly. "What would you say if I told you I could get that for you? At least some of it, anyhow."

Will snorted derisively. "Yeah. You have a way I could be with Jill with her liking it? Without it hurting Dan? Without Dan hurting me? Right."

The smile on the stranger widened a bit; had Will been sober, he might have noticed the calculation in it. But the stranger simply said, "Right," and pulled from his pocket a pamphlet.

"Look this over," the stranger said, rising. "If you like what it says, call me tomorrow. If not—well, forget we ever met. Bartender, I'll pay for his tab."

Will stuffed the pamphlet in a pocket, waved thanks to the guy, and prepared never to see him again.

◘ ◘ ◘

He took a cab home; it was the only sane decision he could've made.

He wasn't stoked about having to take a cab back to get his car the next day, but he knew too many lawyers to think that risking a DUI was cheaper than calling a cab.

As the taxi pulled out of the lot, he reached in his pocket for the pamphlet; it'd give him something to read on the way home, he figured. Something to laugh at.

He read through the information quickly, including the not-insignificant price tag.

If he'd read it two years before, he would have laughed it off as fantasy. But such things were possible; the question wasn't whether it could be done, but whether the stranger could do it.

He tipped the hack generously, got out and headed into the apartment, his mind racing. He'd be insignificant; Jill wouldn't even know he existed in this scenario.

But that, he soon realized, didn't bother him.

Indeed, it set his heart racing in a new and different way.

He put the card and the pamphlet by the phone in the kitchen. He'd sleep on it. Maybe in the morning he'd find it was just a dream.

◘ ◘ ◘

His dreams were filled with her; they often were. Her smell, her face, her tits….

"Take me, Will," she said to him, licking his face like an animal. "Take me now."

"I love you," he said.

Jill merely smiled.

He woke up with morning wood and a wicked hangover. He got up, headed to the kitchen and started brewing coffee; remembered to his chagrin that he'd have to pick up the car from the bar.

He spied the pamphlet out of the corner of his eye; it hadn't disappeared.

He looked at it for a long time before he picked up the phone.

◘ ◘ ◘

2

◘ ◘ ◘

He still wasn't sure about this.

Even though he'd already spent the money; even though he'd already seen it demonstrated to his satisfaction; even though the man had answered all his questions.

It was a betrayal. He knew it, even as he knew he had to take the chance. No matter what the man had told him, even if Jill and Dan never knew about this, he would.

Could he honestly look at them the same after this?

No, he knew it would change him irrevocably. He knew that even if it never, never, never came out, it still could drive a wedge between him and Dan.

But just as he was aware that this could lead to terrible things, he knew in the knot of his gut that he had to do it. He knew that presented this opportunity, he couldn't pass.

And so he'd taken the bus as close as it would get to Dan and Jill's townhome—which wasn't very close. Still, he walked the two miles carefully, staying off the main drag where Dan might drive by. He'd studied the map closely, finding a back way in that would get him by the house right about nine o'clock in the morning.

It was 9:03 as he walked down the street, feeling the weight of the small crystal around his neck. He resolved that he was just going to hang out for the day, not do anything he'd regret.

He just wanted to bask in her presence.

He knew she'd be home; she was a schoolteacher. Her last day at work had been the preceding Friday; she'd been bubbly discussing her summer off.

Will saw the townhouse, now; he was coming at it from an oblique angle. He realized, belatedly, that for all of his thoughts of this moment, he had no idea how to get inside.

In a way, he was surprised to find himself standing on the front stoop outside the door, looking at the newspaper on the ground.

But as he looked at it, he knew that this was his portal. He just hoped Jill got up soon.

He closed his eyes, and whispered the incantation.

And he opened his eyes again to a new world.

◘ ◘ ◘

Time drug.

Will checked his watch repeatedly. It was 9:45. Shouldn't she be up by now? Shouldn't she get the paper in?

He tapped his foot nervously. He was, as promised, one-quarter inch tall. Too small to climb up to the door, too big to sneak in under the door. Should he grow back and ring the doorbell, then try to quick-whisper the incantation before Jill got back? Should he try to go through the garage?

Should he just get out of here, quickly, before anything bad happened?

Suddenly, there was a tremendous creaking and groaning above him. He looked upexpectantly, and watched as the storm door swung perilously above him.

It was her.

His heart was in his throat as he looked up at the behemoth. Jill's petite 5'4" frame had ballooned into a titanic 1536'. Her bare feet were immense, her toenails just beginning to flake away their coat of paint. Around her left ankle a silver anklet dangled—as per usual. It had been a gift from Dan on their first anniversary. (Don't think about Dan.)

From there, it got dizzying; her slender, toned legs climbed up into a ratty pair of grey shorts (for just a second, he could see her pink panties), an old blue t-shirt displayed her breasts a good quarter-mile or so above him. She leaned on the door with one arm and yawned.

And then she knelt down for the paper.

"Shit!" cried Will, who had been so agog at Jill's appearance that he hadn't been prepared for this. He dropped and clung to the front page as Jill lifted it, hoping that he was in a spot on the page she wouldn't spy.

He looked up at her, as she half-perused the headlines. She looked up and away, carrying the paper and her hidden companion into the house.

She dropped the paper on the kitchen table and headed off to get some cereal from the cupboard.

He sprung up as she walked away, diving off the paper and running to the cover of a salt shaker sitting in the middle of the table. He turned to watch her again; at the distance ofthe kitchen her scale became more normalized. He could take her in all at once, thoughin the way one can take in a mountain all at once. She grabbed milk out of the fridge and turned back toward him, covering the distance rapidly. Before he was even ready for it, a bowl was on the table and car-sized Froot Loops were dropping from the sky.

Will watched in awe as she set the box down and dropped into her seat, scanning through the paper and eating trailer-sized bites absentmindedly. It was staggering, watching a woman he knew to be smallish and dainty taking in tons of food with every bite—and yet, he realized, doing so with her usual casual delicacy. She was the woman he'd dreamed of, simply magnified.

Suddenly, there was a deafening, piercing alarm. Will jumped involuntarily, wondering what was going on, when the alarm stopped. And started again.

Jill was not so startled. She simply rose calmly, and walked back into the kitchen.

"Hello?" she said, picking up the phone.

Will was awestruck by the force of her voice—this was, in fact, the first word he'd heard her say. Even several feet (at her scale—over a mile at his) away, her soft voice was amplified, magnified into a dull roar.

"Hi Wendy! What's up? Uh huh. Yeah, just eating breakfast. Right, right."

Will listened to Jill's side of the conversation, wondering what Wendy wanted.

Wendy was Jill's younger sister—she was still in college, going into her…senior year, Will thought, though he wasn't quite sure of it. She was a cute girl, actually looked a lot like he sister. He'd only met her a few times. Once when she came to a party, a couple times watching football.

And of course, a couple times at the wedding. (Don't think about the wedding.)

"Yeah, that sounds good. Just let me finish eating and get a shower. Of course I haven't showered yet! It's the first day of my summer! Yeah. All right, see you soon."

Will spun through the conversation, pulling out the obvious—Wendy was coming over, or maybe Jill was going to meet her somewhere. If he was going to spend the day with Jill, he realized he wasn't just going to be able to hang out in the townhouse—he was going to have to go….

Wait a second.

Shower?

A slow smile crossed Will's face.

Yes, he was going to have to see that.

Jill returned to the table, and sat back down, eating a few more bites of now-soggy Froot Loops. Will, for his part, was slowly walking toward the edge of the table, looking for away to hitch a ride.

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3

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Jill walked up the stairs with a bounce in her step; she was relieved that the school year was done. It wasn't that she disliked her job—she loved it, in fact. But even a job you love can wear on you. And so she was looking forward to summer—indeed, she wasmore than ready for it.

She wandered into the bathroom, humming an idle tune, stripped matter-of-factly and turned on the water to get it warmed up. She liked her showers hot, and one downside of this townhouse was that the water heater always seemed to take its own sweet time getting going.

She scratched her butt, sighed, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was starting to show a few signs of age, she noticed disconsolately. Not that she'd ever thought of herself as overwhelmingly attractive—she wasn't ugly or anything, but she considered herself plain. Now, she was plain—and getting a bit beyond her prime.

She smiled awkwardly at her reflection. She wasn't even thirty yet! She shook her head a little at the tapes playing in her head, the legacy of a thousand little imperfections thather mother had perceived in her from day one, and had told her about from day two. She rolled her eyes, and reminded herself that Dan had never complained.

Thus calming her inner pettifogger, she stepped into the now steaming shower, leaned her head against the back wall, and let the water roll down her back, sighing contentedlyas the heat relaxed the muscles in her back, and the kinks in her spirit.

◘ ◘ ◘

Will was dazzled and dazed, and somewhat amazed to be alive.

He had lit off half-cocked, and in retrospect, he was fortunate that he hadn't found his way into the shower with the (naked! beautiful!) Jill. From the sound of the torrential downpour behind the mammoth curtain, he'd be washed away by now.

He had made a fateful decision on the table minutes before. He knew that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to see Jill naked. He had to figure out how, though. After all,she was wearing shorts and a t-shirt; he saw the bare skin of her left arm, her fine hairs magnified by her enormity, and he wondered if she would feel him if he hung onto them—but stealth would not be a friend to him there. And he couldn't let her find him. Not yet.

Then he saw it. The passageway.

It was bigger than him, but he could hide under it. Oh, it wasn't a good place for long, but it would do for the moment.

Still, as he approached it, his stomach did flip-flops. Not from the immensity of her left hand, laying, half-curled, gracefully on the table.

No, it was what leaned against the table, its owner paying it no attention.

It was a diamond. One attached to one of two rings on the third finger of her hand.

He found his way underneath it, his back against the cold gold, his vision the dazzling sparkle of what appeared to be a trillion-carat diamond. And his world in constant motion as Jill shifted her hand slightly this way and that.

She finally rose, and his world was too kinetic for him to process. He had a look up her long arm, which swayed slightly with each step. Suddenly, the hand gripped the banister, and then was free again.

And then the hand was reaching for the hem of the shirt, and then it was pulling. The motion was too much—he fell off into a sea of robin's egg blue, which was tossed unceremoniously onto the floor.

He pulled himself skyward quickly, toward a shaft of light. He emerged and stared up at Jill as she slid her pink panties off….

He gasped. He had imagined her naked, of course—more times than he could possibly admit. But of course, he'd never imagined her like this.

She stretched up magnificently, a goddess-like statue of perfect goodness. She was so far above him, he knew; it fit her.

She turned for the shower, and his heart swelled. He watched up the infinity of leg to the perfection of her derriere, and sighed as it moved away from him and out of his view.

He contemplated his mortality for a moment, before he started to wonder how he was going to get back onto her—this time, hopefully in a more secure location.

He was still wondering when she stepped out of the shower a few minutes later.

He watched her go through a typical post-shower routine—she tied the towel around herout of habit, blocking her lovely form from his view but paradoxically giving him a view up the towel that was more alluring than ever. She blew her hair dry, far above him, and he began to despair. He had just decided to try to climb onto her right foot (which sat nearby, like a gentle bluff) when fate conspired to place him higher on her form.

She had grabbed it from the counter carelessly; it was perhaps no surprise when it dropped from her fingers, falling toward him precipitously. But he wasn't afraid as it impacted a few dozen feet from him. He was just hoping to reach it before she picked itup.

◘ ◘ ◘

Jill bent down, and retrieved the scrunchie from the floor; it was a bit girlish, not something she'd generally wear to school. But today, as relaxed as she wanted to be, it fit perfectly.

She slipped the band onto her right wrist, and with the practice of a lifetime of repetition, she gripped her hair in one hand and slid the band on with the other, feeling the pony tail flop down agreeably.

She nodded at the mirror, then hanging up the towel, she returned to her room. Bra, new panties, jean shorts and a modest college T-shirt, socks and keds—she wasn't dressed up by any stretch of the imagination, but she was comfortable. And that was all she cared about today.

The doorbell rang, and she bounded down the stairs. Today wouldn't be a day of much accomplishment, but she didn't give a damn. She just wanted to have fun.

◘ ◘ ◘

He bounced right along with her.

He had reached the scrunchie; he now regretted it somewhat. He had ended up embedded in her hair, with just enough light coming in to tell him that there was a world outside. He breathed in the aroma of her shampoo, but he was disappointed. He wouldhave to get out of here.

But of course, Will was quickly realizing that as much as we're unaware of it, the human head is in almost constant motion. As Jill dressed (or so he surmised; he assumed that was what the bending and dropping motions were), her head turned and twisted and shook and bobbled until he was feeling motion-sick.

When he heard the doorbell, he began to dread what was to come. He had wanted a day with her, but not like this.

But that was the day he would have. At least for the next few hours.

◘ ◘ ◘

4

◘ ◘ ◘

Will had given up struggling a while ago; the hairs around him compacted between the scrunchie, and he realized that even if he managed to loose himself from his prison, there was no guaranty that it wouldn't be simply to drop from Jill's hair into oblivion, no more regarded than a fleck of dandruff.

He tried to put the best spin on it he could. After all, he was able to listen to her voice all day—all right, the conversation was one-sided, as Wendy's responses were largely blocked by Jill's head—but Jill's voice reverberated through her skull and his body, and he was aware of every murmur and aside she mumbled, not to mention every word she spoke aloud.

He tried to put the best spin on it, but let's be honest: he failed. He hadn't gone through this to be stuck in Jill's hair all day.

And so he stewed, impatiently, waiting on a chance that kept not coming.

He was about to swear a blue streak for the eighth time that day, when suddenly, all the hair around him pulled away, and he found himself falling.

◘ ◘ ◘

It was almost just what Jill needed.

She and Wendy had just kicked around—the bookstore, lunch, a bit ofshopping—nothing earth-shattering, nothing really very interesting to the casual observer.

Just a nice, relaxing day, with no kids and no grading and nothing on the schedule. A day to relax and have fun.

Indeed, it was so nice and relaxing that she couldn't conceive of any part of her day out that could be the least bit stressful.

At any rate, she was home at last, after bidding her kid sister adieu, and was cleaning up the house just a bit; Dan would be home soon (and taking her out to dinner), and she wasn't put together at all. Not that her husband demanded that—far from it. But she was a girl, and she liked to look good. And so she peeled off her shirt and shorts, and removed her functional bra and panties for a less functional, more decorative set. She had a turquoise summer dress hanging on the doorknob, and she looked at herself in the mirror, trying to decide what to do with her hair. She liked the ponytail, but it wasn’t dressy at all.

So sighing, she grabbed a spray bottle with water and reached back, sliding the scrunchie off with careless ease. Letting the hair fall, she began to spray the water, loosening the kinks and preparing it for combing.

◘ ◘ ◘

Will tried to grasp the hair as best he could, his hands slipping on the vines until finally he gripped the tawny rope near its end and held on as it crashed, along with a hundred thousand twins, against the back of Jill's neck.

He tried to think of where he could go now; he looked down the vast distance to Jill's perfect behind, and saw to his fascination and horror that she was wearing a white, lacy thong. What's going on? he thought to himself, and then had no time to think.

It came upon him like a sudden squall, a downpour of heavy, pelting storm that bashed against him all at once. He barely had time to realize it had hit him when his grip loosened on the rain-soaked ropes of Jill's hair and fell.

He reached out, screaming all the way, and hoping for a miracle.

He got it. Jill bent slightly and flipped her hair forward, combing it out. Will impacted just to the right of her left shoulder blade, and began sliding down the bare skin of her back, until he hit a small, two-foot deep ledge.

He grasped it and tried to figure out what it could be—why was there a white ledge on Jill's back? It wasn't until he looked to his right at the looming clasp that he realized hewas clinging to the back of her bra.

The next twenty minutes or so were slow going. Will had been immobilized for hours, and he was still trying to shake off the atrophy of it; he wanted badly to go home, have a dozen beers, and pass out.

But he knew that if he could just hang in there and make the journey, her left tit was within reach.

He couldn't get this close without seeing it.

And so he journeyed slowly, carefully around her port side, carefully traversing the dangerous area where her arm could come down at her side and crush him, holding on for dear life as she threw a dress over her head, and at long last he made it to the left cup, and exhausted, pulled himself inside.

◘ ◘ ◘

The dinner was nice, of course.

Jill and Dan went out to Patna, an Indian restaurant they both liked. They ordered Chicken Vindaloo, they flirted, they shared a bottle of wine.

Dan Belisle was not the most demonstrative man; his friends liked to joke that you could cut off his arm and his response would be, "Hey, guys, I don't like that much." But Jill had known him and loved him a long time. She knew him well. And she knew he was turned on as all get-out.

She was, too. She wasn't sure exactly why—oh, not that Dan wasn't enough, mind you,but she was a bit hornier than she got even when she was horny. She smiled at that; she felt good. Her bra wasn't even itching anymore.

They had talked about going to a movie, but Jill said, quietly, "You know, I think maybe we should go home after dinner. Do something there."

Dan took the hint. He wasn't demonstrative, but he wasn't stupid, either.

◘ ◘ ◘

Frankly, Will thought, he was lucky to be alive, much less where he was at the moment.

He had rested in her bra cup for some time, visiting her nipple, breathing in the scent ofher flesh, and just resting. He should've been content with that.

But at one point, for reasons he couldn't quite remember, he'd decided he wanted to seeher face again. He really hadn't since the morning. These could be the breasts of any girl with a B-cup.

And so he'd struggled to the top of her breasts, then up the strap to the collar of the dress, and then—

—then he emerged on her shoulder as she turned her head, her hair whipping against him and sending him sliding down, and then off her chest.

Where he landed was hot and sticky, and the smell was vaguely familiar. He tried toright himself, realizing to his horror that he was sinking into a quicksand made out of vindaloo.

Jill sat, goddesslike above him, spearing truck-sized chunks of chicken. He waved to her,but to no avail; it wasn't long before she scooped up some rice, some sauce, and some Will and began to raise it to her lovely lips.

Will had dreamed of touching them with his; for half a second he thought this would be afitting way to end it. But he shook off the fantasy and quickly bailed out just as the fork cleared the table, falling hard into a sea of white—the napkin on Jill's lap.

He lay there for a few minutes, breathing hard, before turning around and seeing her left knee, bare and smooth, peeking out from beyond the hem of her skirt.

The journey inside the skirt was inevitable from that point; he couldn't stop himself.

And so it was that he slid himself through the elastic of her panties and into the blast furnace of her crotch.

It was awesome. The gates of a beautiful temple, the portal to a magic world.

Or Jill's enormous pussy. Whatever. All Will knew was that this was something he'd always dreamed of.

He pulled himself up through her bush (trimmed and neatened, but not shaved into a landing strip, he noted approvingly—a girl should be human, he'd always thought, and girls had hair surrounding their vaginas) and toward his ultimate destination.

He wanted, just once, to give her a thrill. Even if she didn't know, he wanted to make her feel good.

And so he stroked her clit as he stroked himself.

And he wished he could do so much more.

◘ ◘ ◘

By the time they got home, Jill was horny enough to fuck a tree, and the tiny man she didn't know existed at that moment felt like he'd run a marathon.

Will was just about to finish. He had done everything he'd come to do. It was time to go home. He'd just sneak out of Jill's panties when she got undressed, and he'd find a way out tomorrow.

Jill, though, was nowhere near finishing. And unlike Will, she had a partner who was ready, willing, and able to help her out.

They had barely gotten through the door when she hit her husband with a forceful kiss, one that said in no uncertain terms that it was time to get a move on. Dan reciprocated in kind, already working on the buttons on his shirt as they broke and headed upstairs, laughing together in the unspoken language of love.

Will felt the first spasm, and then the bouncing of Jill as she ascended; he held on tight, trying to figure out his exit strategy, hoping she was going to the bathroom soon.

Dan pulled her dress up over her head and the two fell onto their bed together. They embraced and kissed, as Dan deftly unhooked her bra. Jill unbuttoned his pants and slid them off his waist, pausing to give an encouraging pat through his briefs. Then she removed those, too.

Will was surprised by the fall. What the devil had happened? Maybe Jill had decided to lie down, watch TV. Not that he had time to contemplate this, of course, as he had fallen himself, sliding away from her clit and onto her lips, which were slick with lubrication. He tried to right himself.

Dan pulled her panties off.

Will screamed.

Jill kissed her husband hard, and said just one word.

"Now."

Will watched, aghast, as his best friend's silo-sized cock aimed right for his position, and came toward him.

He was caught full in the chest and pushed deep inside her, coughing and sputtering. The penis pulled back, and he fell to the pelvic floor, before it slid back in, hitting him again, pulling out, hitting again…and again…and again….

As he lost consciousness, he saw the explosion of his friend's ardor.

It was, he thought, the last thing he'd ever see.

◘ ◘ ◘

Will awoke.

That in and of itself was surprising. The fact that he was full-sized, in a hospital bed, was more surprising.

He felt awful—his left arm was in searing pain, his left leg completely numb. He felt bandages on his head—he didn't even want to know what they were for.

The last moments of his memory flooded back just as he heard a familiar voice.

"Hey, you're awake."

"Huh?" he said, turning awkwardly to see the concerned face of his friend Dan.

"You gave us quite a scare, mister. We thought you were a goner."

"How—"

"Jill found you on the kitchen floor—man, you were frickin' small! Do you have any idea how you got into our house?"

"Uh….no," lied Will, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"Not surprising—the folks from the Society said you probably had been drugged, and you were looking for help. They didn't think you'd remember much. I'm just glad you're not dead, man."

"Yeah, uh…me too," said Will, not sure at all that he believed it.

"Anyhow, I've gotta get to work—I just stopped by on my way in to see how you were doing. You've been out for a week! Man, I hope you remember some of what happened. Now that I know you're alive I'd love to hear about what happened."

No, you wouldn't. "I hope so, Dan."

As his friend left, Will mustered up a question he didn't want to ask. "Uh—Dan, Jill found me…in the kitchen?"

"Yeah. She went downstairs for water after…uh…before bed, and she came up with you. Man, I'm married to a remarkable woman. She stayed calm while I was freaking out."

"No doubt," said Will, with a sinking feeling.

"Anyhow, she'll be by later today—I know she's been asking me if you were up and around yet. She's real interested in how you're doing."

"I bet," said Will. "Thanks, Dan. For everything."

"You'd do the same for me."

Will grimaced. "Yeah."

◘ ◘ ◘

The next few hours were a blur of doctors and nurses checking him, advising him about his broken arm, his shattered pelvis, the four different anesthetics he was on, the concussion that they hoped was healing, the broken skull, the laceration on the back of his head. Will took each one soberly, calmly, hoping that the injuries were enough to forestall judgment.

It was three hours later when she arrived.

She was back to normal—beautiful, radiant, amazing, and petite. She looked at him calmly, almost dispassionately. With a quiet "Hello, Will," she took a seat at his bedside.

Neither of them talked for a good minute. Finally, Will said, as he knew he had to, "Dan says you told him you found me in the kitchen."

Jill smiled wanly, and said, "Yes, that's where I told him I found you."

Will closed his eyes, wishing away the truth.

"We both know that wasn't where you were."

"I know. I'm sorry—"

"Sorryr52; Right. Will, what in God's name were you thinking?"

"Jill—"

"You were in my pussy, Will," she said, quietly. "Why?"

"Because I couldn't take it anymore, Jill. Because I had to get you out of my system. And that wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry. I just…."

His voice trailed off.

"So you've had a crush on me?" asked Jill, bluntly.

"Yeah," he said.

Jill frowned a little. And then said, quietly, "Nobody's ever had a crush on me before."

"Huh? What about Dan?"

"He loves me," said Jill. "But that's not a crush. He got me. A crush is unrequited."

"I guarantee you, Jill, dozens of men have had crushes on you. Possibly hundreds."

Jill smiled a bit at that. "Yeah, well, if so, none of them have shrunk themselves and explored my genitals. Will, you could've been killed."

"That's not what bothered me. Jill—I shouldn't have done that to you. I was wrong. And…whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. If you want me to take off once I get healed, go head to Arizona or somewhere and disappear…I'll do it."

"No," said Jill, firmly. "That's not what I want."

There was silence. At length, Will asked, "What do you want, then?"

"I want you to get healed. I want you to find a girl who isn't me, and I want you to fall in love. I want you to have a good life, Will, and be a part of our lives, because you're my husband's best friend, and in your own incredibly stupid way, I know you were trying to consummate your crush in a way that didn't hurt Dan or me.

"But Will, I figure you owe me two things."

Will's head was swimming. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Anything," he said, and meant it.

◘ ◘ ◘

Will was as good as his word.

Jill and Dan certainly benefited; he had promised Jill he'd try to "remember" some details—sketchy, of course—of being tiny, and relay them to Dan wistfully.

It had the desired effect, especially Will's vague-but-specific-enough "memory" of seeing Jill from the floor. That image had been all it took to convince Dan to contact theSociety and get his hands on some safer means of shrinking. Jill was pleased; oh, shrinking Dan to six inches tall wasn't good permanently, but once in a while it could be fun, and it gave her the same charge she'd felt when she pulled Will out of her pussy—initial shock, and then an incredible feeling of power.

And Dan got to shrink down and play with his wife. That was quite enough for him.

The second part of Will's promise never was acted upon. He had no intention of ever repeating his misadventure, so he had no reason to ever warn Jill of when he was going to.

No, he found as he recovered that he was quite cured of his need for Jill. Oh, he still found her attractive, still got cold chills sometimes when he looked at her. And there was more there now, of course—a shared connection that they would always have.

But she was no longer the unobtainable object of his affection. He'd had one night with her, and even though it didn't lead to anything else--it was enough.