INTO THE WILD   - introduction -

“You’re short on ideas, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, funny, look who’s talking. You’re the one doing the driving, I remind you. Don’t blame me if we’re lost.” I kick her playfully in the neck. She hardly feels it, of course. I sit down again on her shoulder. Behind me the wall of her hair goes waving in vast undulations as she turns her head, to start her backward driving.
The road has turned into a dusty rut, and there’s no point insisting in that direction.  The sudden jerking motion of the car nearly topples me forth, towards the long slope of her neck, and the inviting hills below. I grab a stray hair, to prevent my falling into my girl’s generous cleavage (she’s wearing the white dress I purchased for her last birthday, an attempt at curtailing the current explosion of colours in her wardrobe these past few months. My hint went totally unnoticed, as she’s draped a flashy red scarf around her waist).
“Ouch! Mind my hair, will you?”
“Sorry, honey”, I say, a bit peeved inside that she noticed [i]that [/i]more than my most lethal karate kick (I can positively break a biscuit in two).

I regain my composure and sit again on the warm skin under the shadow of her neck. The way she’s turned now, her mighty jaw is a vast canopy right above me. In front of me, the impressive length of her left arm reaches out to the gigantic wheel of our little car. I let my gaze drift down to the vast landscape below. I have a good taste for dresses, I congratulate myself pensively. The full length of Noeleen’s thighs are well exposed , two smooth and tanned horizontal pillars, defying my sense of scale, like two vast hills of warm tender flesh. I mentally gauge their texture, warmth and scent, and driving directions are the last thing on my mind, for some reason. The skimpy dress is wedged between the thighs, revealing in their crease, a triangular region worth my attention..

 A bump of the road brings back to more prosaic thoughts. This time I do not dare holding to the lifeline. The fall is inevitable, un-avoided and vertiginous, as I topple from my comfy position into the very landscape I was admiring. A soft bouncing on a rounded promontory, a flash of a white cliff passing by, and I land exactly in the surroundings of my day-dream. I briefly glide to this nether region where the two thighs really become interesting. As I get my bearings, breathing hard on the soft dress, feeling the warmth of the flesh beneath, I feel the thighs parting slightly and the dress  I lie upon sinks deeper into a newly formed valley.
Above, the giant wheel is turning, I smell the plastic of the dashboard, the rubber of the floor carpet below, as if my nose was stuck on it. I am just about beginning to stand up when a sudden jerk of the car sends the thighs closing on me. They trap me in darkness for a brief moment.
“Yo, could you drive AND spare my life, princess? Aren’t you supposed to be multi-tasking with these feminine brains of yours?!” I shout with the first breath I get.
“ What are you doing down there? You’re supposed to help me for directions, not spelunking at your leisure!”
Two fingers set on my body, the rugged prints pressing on my hips. I’m back into the light and deposited on her shoulder again. “Now, just keep holding”, she says, and no pulling, thanks.”  I grab again a few strands of long brown hair, wondering if I shouldn’t just jump back [i]there[/i].

We’re lost all right. The territory is unfamiliar, mountainous, and wild. I love mountains. I always did. But ever since the Shrinking I feel I have a better connection to them. They just seem to treat me like they treat everybody. They just dominate everything and everyone, and to them Noeleen is just as tiny as I am. Somehow I find a strange comfort in the thought, that in the mountains, hell, we’re all small things…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

We get to the place just before sunset. The small camping site is isolated, on the right side of the mountain (we get the sun till late, from the West-orientated valley below) and a small stream is chirping away not twenty feet from our lot. This is good, as it it means Noeleen can talk to me without being heard easily, looking like a loony constantly talking to herself. She’s really excited with the outing, and I glow with a quiet pride from having found out this place in my stubborn web-surfing.

Noeleen has set me on a napkin on the grass as she busies herself unloading the car (one of the many advantages of being tiny is the exemption from such tasks, I say). From my vantage, my pretty girl is an impressive mountain of her own, carrying enormous objects, with an incredible ease. A whole paraphernalia of camping items quickly get strewn all over the place. The silk bras that fall from an open bag are not exactly camping item, but they certainly suit my mood. Always be prepared, I say.

Around me, tall leaves of grass prevent me from seeing much of the landscape, surrounding me like a green curtain, but who needs nature, when your girl is bending forward inside the car boot, her small dress lifting high enough to reveal the full back of her thighs and the white panties it was supposed to hide. The rosy light of the setting sun throws a warm glow on Noeleen’s skin, and she’d be growing a pair of wings just now, I would not be the least surprised.  I sigh with plenitude. “This weekend could well turn out just fine”, I actually utter aloud, my  minute whisper lost in the soft breeze.

Famous last words.

...................................................................

It’s getting dark now and Noeleen has set our gaslight on the grass nearby. To me, it ‘s a wonderful cylinder of warm light, sending its immobile rays far above my head. Pretty soon, lots of insects start flying around and bumping into the translucent glass, a sight I do not find over-poetic. A lot of these bugs are near as big as my torso, and I can’t help feeling vaguely threatened by their presence. (In my condition, a mosquito is a nightmarish concept).

Noeleen is finishing setting the tent, a vast dome of orange fabric, that looks like a closed stadium. Her vast body is crouched near me, as she sets the last peg in the ground. I watch in awe as she hammers the peg down, drilling a metal shaft twice my size into what feels to me like sheer rock. She often takes in my head the role of the mythic Venus, but seeing her now evokes rather the image of a female Thor or Hephaestus.  But her great bottom is well highlighted by the low lighting of the lamp, and my religious fervour, hardened by the rhythmic hammering, is somewhat slowly evolving into something completely different. Fortunately I’m now lost in her great shadow and I doubt she can notice the change in my physiognomy. When she eventually stands up to admire a handiwork, the sudden development of her beautiful and overwhelming form leaves me yet again gob smacked, and in this natural setting, gazing up at the impossible legs, I do feel indeed like a little voyeur earthworm staring at a Earth Goddess.

After much motion and arrangements, we have settled at last for our rural dinner. Noeleen has warm up a soup on a gaz burner that would shame a decent petroleum factory, and I sit on an upside-down paper glass between the  crossed legs of my girl (who has dressed up in a pair of torn jeans, the temperature is clearly dropping).  I contentedly dine on a few millimetres of the hot beverage, wearing the tiny jumper and  cotton trousers the custom designer of Noeleen’s company was kind enough to create for me. Not too far from us, giant shapes are busy doing the same thing, around the colourfully lit circus tents that pepper the field. Whiffs of conversation and laughter drift in our direction. I feel sad suddenly that to them, Noeleen appears to be a lonely girl, silently eating our diner. Probably won’t be too long before some kind soul asks her to join their group.

“Do you feel lonely with me, Noeleen?”
She looks at me, her face dimly lit by our small lamp. “That’s a new one. No I don’t…. Do you think I should?”
“Well, I don’t know, it’s not like I take too much room in the landscape.”
“No you don’t , laddie.  And it’s a beautiful landscape you found us for the weekend, so I won’t complain.”
“It’s not what I mean, I…..”
“But somehow I’ve never managed to find the switch off button for your chatterbox, so no, again, can’t say I feel lonely.”
A humongous finger brushes past my back.
That does shut me up for a second. She sure knows how to keep up with a deep meaningful conversation.

I can catch a few glances coming from the other tent. “Oh no”, they must think, “The loony next door is chatting to herself. Too long in the wild she stayed.” I sigh.
“It’s just that you always have to keep you voice down, to pretend you’re…”
Noeleen laughs now, a roar of a laughter that rings in my tiny ears.  I love that sound, obviously.
“Oh, my, you’re worried about the folks around, aren’t you? That’s rich.” She glances around. “Hey, wait till I take you inside” she adds, nodding in the direction of the Dome. “They gonna hear far more  than that”.
 I stare at her smiling face, my spoon frozen in mid course. Some people have no shame, I say.
“Hold your horses, your highness, this weekend is to be dedicated to Nature, Spirituality and a Zen approach to life, Remember ?”
“Ow, you’ve read “Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance” again, haven’t you? ….. Well, I’ve just added “Deep exploration of our inner nature” on your shopping list… I really buy that concept, you know”. She winks at me, and, moving her hips forwards, sits so close to my paper glass of a chair, that I could nearly touch the zipper of her jeans. On both sides of me, a wall of jeans fabric has obliterated my view on the camping site. The cliff of her body extinguishes half the stars. She’s driving a tough bargain.

We chat further for a while, till the night is so fully over us, I can’t see anything past the twin hills of her thighs. Noeleen has switched the burner off, and the sky beyond the mountains is all shiny with sparkling dots. I feel the same with the stars that I do with mountains. They totally accept me. Of all the things in the world, they never changed. Only the vast breathing behind me (and occasional deep grumbling within) reminds me of how little I really am. That,  and the fact that when I point at a star I like , Noeleen politely pretends she knows which one I’m showing , of course. The night is alive with the screeching din of the nocturnal insects, and when an owl flies by us, I instinctively set a hand on Noeleen’s thigh.

Inside the tent, the landscape is a confusing succession of blue hills of fabric (which used to be my trusty sleeping bag in times of yore) mixed with mountains of discarded clothes. I tread upon the complex folds of the cold fabric, till I’ve put enough distance between me and the tent opening. After a minute or so, the vast curtains of the entrance are pushed apart by the massive head of my girl, as she starts entering our little abode. I’m reminded of a certain T-Rex doing the same in the movies, except that this head is as large as the T-rex, and the smile that shines in my direction could have chewed the poor animal to pieces, it seems.

Now seeing Noeleen in any room is enough of a show. Seeing her enormous body enter the confined space of the tent is just as scary and wonderful as it gets. In a second the large body has taken all available space, plunging me in deep shadow. Noeleen’s’ face is moving far above, draped in a sea of brown hair that seems bent on toppling down on my. As her torso passes over my head, she smiles at me, repressing a giggle. The next moment, two huge knees are planting themselves on both sides of my little shape, shaking the cover I stand on, and sending me on my back gazing at the vast arch of a jeans-clad crotch.

Far above, Noeleen is stretching up to remove her top, her now naked arms scraping against the tent’s roof. A mountain of wool falls silently nearby. When she starts removing her jeans, the huge mass of clothes crumples down in my direction.  I should run, of course, but I do start to get a glimpse of naked thighs, beyond the crumbling mass of the descending jeans. I am no mouse, I tell myself, and hold my ground.

I‘ve had my share of scary moments, as the Shrinking sent me toppling down the scale of the living. It is a sad but true fact that during the early months of the process, when my mind was still fighting the constantly new and changing reality around me, I’ve been afraid of my girl.

I vividly remember how stunned I was that day, when , having spent two months in isolation in the Institute, I was allowed to see her again for the first time. I wasn’t tiny then, just an incredible midget a quarter her size.  I was sitting on the edge of a table in Professor Lawrence’s office, and Noeleen had burst into the room, searching for me. She had spotted me there and literally jumped in my direction. I was used to the slow calculated motion of the near-by scientists then, and the sudden onslaught of this familiar yet monstrous body in my direction, had triggered a fleeting but intense fright. Noeleen was as overwhelmed as I was at seeing me at this size, but her natural reaction was to come to me, not to shrivel away. I’m quite certain she never noticed my instinctive fear when she suddenly loomed high above me, her large hands coming to my sides, and that’s a real comfort. I thank the stars for that.

I’ve had moments too, when the situation had worsened still, and when, walking in the kitchen for instance, I’d hear the ponderous steps from the other room coming closer and closer, my mind calculating how far I was from the door when she would enter, feeling a cold chill as the large feet would come in crashing on the floor near me. Being stepped on by accident was a real issue for me, and one that remained so for quite a time before I fully adapted to the situation. I’ve had panic attacks, I’m sad to say, in the early days, when finding myself in the grip of warm fingers, I realized that Noeleen was asleep, and that whatever she’d do in her sleep could mean a crushing death. And there was of course the incident, when she had sat down on me, after too much drinking, the night I was kidnapped by Helen..

Yes, living in the presence of a giantess, no matter how delightful and sexy she is, was for a long  time a pretty traumatic experience.  I still can’t say whether it is sheer dumbness or absolute trust that eventually overcame this aspect of our relationship. In my warped mind, I still manage to play the tough guy, I guess, still believe I’m in charge of our safety together, and nothing Noeleen does now is really much a source of worries. Well…

Noeleen has backed away from me a bit to get space for her legs. As the jeans are tossed away in the dark recesses of the tent, I find myself lying on my back with a gigantic statue of flesh straddling my diminutive frame. Noeleen is smiling at me, her head lifting the roof , her hands on her hips, apparently quite please with the situation. Her white sports bra are accentuating the comfortable eminence of her ample chest, and if a man has ever been humbled by this feminine attribute, I’ve got to be this man.
“I’m ready for my first class, master” says Noeleen in a grave tone. Oh well, I might as well join in.
“This is a arduous path you have chosen” I respond in kind, “and many have failed me in my teachings. Do not disappoint me, little beetle.”
I stand up on the sleeping bag. The torchlight Noeleen hung from the roof of the tent is dancing to her movements, and keeps blinding me.
“Now, little beetle, we’ll start with the breathing exercises. First, you will…” I wish she’d let me finish my sentences once in a while. The huge chest is descending upon me like a collapsing Eiffel tower. On second, I look at my girl, the next all I see is that huge breast falling on to me, filling up all my view.
“Breathing under pressure, lesson …” is all I hear, as the tip of Noeleen’s breast is reaching me and I start sinking under its weight in the depth of our inflatable mattress. Noeleen is definitely past the early shadows of our relationship. She’s willing to give herself to me no barrels hold. As she lies down on top of me, obliterating my existence under her soft breast,  I reach out in a hurry for the meagre shreds of Zen buried in my being.

Tbc?

nostromo

INTO THE WILD   -  PART II

Sex in the woods is overrated, I thought for the longest time. I still remember with embarrassment my awkward attempts as a teenager, during my first camping trips with girls I had sworn my life to, and whose names I hardly recall now.
No, really, those rough blankets, the pine leaves under you, the uncomfortable rustling of the sleeping bags, the fear of the passers-by, and that damn stone digging into your side, all those things remain sharp in my memory. Romantic it may be, exciting it sure is, but practical? No way. I’m a man of comforts. Give me deep pillows, soft mattresses and / or hot bathtubs any day. The woodsmen can enjoy their fun. I’m a spoiled urbanite.

Now, when said mattress is a living, breathing ground of warm soft  flagrant feminine flesh, radiating its own heat and shaking with intimate tremors that would shame any decent  earthquake into suicidal thoughts, well, love in the wild does seem to take a different tint altogether.

…………………………………………..

Noeleen is reading the next play she’s due to direct this autumn. I thought her early moves tonite were indicative of a foreplay of “tsunamical” proportions, but hell, we’re both knackered, sleepy, and in the grip of this famous mountain fresh air, which, far from boosting our vitality as advertised,  is right now stunning us into deep apathy. Anyway, I was adamant I wasn’t going to perform any heroics tonight. (That how I call sex these days.)
 
 The tent is rustling to the whims of the wind outside. I also hear the quick pace of insect on the synthetic fabric, which never fails to irritate me. A lone little gnat (the size of my hand, mind you) is banging its head against the tent roof, far far above and that worries me a bit as well. But hey, we’re as snug as bugs in a rug, enjoying the unusual sounds from the camping site. I am lying on Noeleen’s breast, faced with the vast pages of her book. I can read it fine, as one does a torrentially verbose ad on a double bill board.

“This, Noeleen, is a crock of shite,” I sincerely offer (I am fond of astute and articulated critiques) .
“You think so?”  Her voice comes from somewhere high behind me, and every word brushes over me as a warm breeze.
“Positive. 100%. No doubt about it. Shite it is, and manure it should become. Give it up, sweetie, before it runs you, and everyone blind enough to follow you, into early retirement.”
“Oh.”
I wait in silence for any more comments. Instead, huge fingers turn the vast page,  that nearly brush my feet in its motion. I sigh, and look up to find the start of the next sentence above.
Under me, the powerful lungs are inhaling vast quantities of “Fresh Mountain Air” ™, lifting me up and down, like an invisible sea. In the confined space of the tent, I find myself worrying there won’t be enough left for me. The gentle thud of her heartbeat is puncturing the silence, like perfect clockwork. This is bliss with a capital B. I think I should spoil it, before it’s too late.
“All right. I predict that in the end, her sister will be locked up in a loony farm, her father will reappear in the last two pages and she’ll be considering self-termination as a viable career plan. Can we sleep now?”
The sigh she heaves just now is elevating me by a good three “feet”. I see the fingers reaching for the last pages. I close my eyes, concentrating on the smell of her nearby nipple, a deep meaningful literary pursuit if any. A minute later, the book closes with a sudden thunderclap that really startles me.
“Your highness?”
“She’s looking at a gun, her father is in the bedroom upstairs. The sister is gone to some asylum, it seems.”
 “Well, you should thank me, Noeleen. I saved you from sixty more pages of dross.”
“Looks like it, all right.”. I can “hear” her smile from here. “….Smartass”. She adds in a whisper.
“You’re welcome, my love” , I say, tapping her soft breast under me with the flat of my hand.

She’s starting the Yawn. I turn round to see this, as I do each time we go to bed. The vast mouth above me is opening up to an unbelievable extent. I get to stare in amazement at the complex geography of my girl’s mouth, with its tombstone-like teeth, the cavernous palate, the near sentient-moving tongue, and beyond, the hollow darkness of her incredible throat. I’m a-washed with a warm gale, carrying scents from a subterranean world too alien to contemplate. It goes on forever. I blink when I spot the tiny gnat that foolishly buzzes in at full speed and hits the wall of her palate, where it stays stuck. When the wondrous lips close again, a loud gulping noise announces the dispatch of any saliva (and of the unfortunate gnat) into the deep abyss of her being. She never even noticed the little intruder.
“Ten!” I shout. I always rate her yawning: it never fails to makes her giggle. That topples me down her breast onto her belly. I lie down pensively on it, wondering about the tiny struggle that must be taking place below the soft skin.

Two fingers set on my body.
“Okey, buster, the visit is over. Don’t forget the guide”. She places me in front of her lips, I bury my face in them, in lieu of a tip. Noeleen sets me inside the box she keeps near her pillow, where my make-shift bed is waiting. She adjusts the well needed mosquito net. We’re heading towards dreamland. I listen to the deep rustling of her vast body inserting itself into the sleeping bag. It seems ages elapse before she manages to find the adequate position. Our inflatable mattress is hardly the best defence against the uneven ground. For once, I’m thankful for my size, comfy as I am, in my little box.

I listen to the stream outside, and the soothing splashing of its waters. I just love camping. You feel the entire mountain is alive around you, and the night bristles with strange life and  uncharted events. Not a single engine sound or traffic can be heard. The full moon must have broken through the clouds, and permeates the tent with a …
“Noeleen, will you quit moving around? What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to fall asleep like a mass at this altitude.”
More motion occurs, and a grunt is the only answer. A minute later, I sense a shadow covering my box. When I open my eyes, the huge face of my girl is looming over me like a sudden and dark storm cloud.
“What’s wrong , sweetie? Finding it hard to sleep? Do you need anything?”
“I can’t find it.”, comes a deep whisper. More motion appears on my right. I stand up in the box , and see Noeleen’s hand rummaging through her stuff.
What? What you lookin’ for?”
“I was sure it was there”. Noeleen’s voice is plaintive and anxious, like a little girl’s.
“ What is it? Tell me, I’ll help you. Your earplugs? Do you need a jumper?”
“Damn, I was sure I had taken it with me.” Her voice is brimming with frustration.
“Noeleen, just tell me what…”
“My dildo, I can’t find it, I’m positive I took it with me”
“WHAT????!!!!! You brought what??!!! Here??? Since when do you….????.” My heart is in my throat with indignation and shock.
“Oups… Silly me… It’s right here.”
I turn my head in all directions, looking for the ignoble thing.
A large smile glistens above me for a second. Enormous thumb and index finger set on my sides and lift me out of the box, as Noeleen lets out a deep sigh of relief. I’m lifted briefly over her reclining head ( Her hair is like a black explosion around her moonlit face) before being introduced into the dark abyss of her sleeping bag. “Noeleen !!! You fiend!!!”

I am deposited in the total darkness of a hot cavern. I know I’m lying on her belly, because of the gurgling sounds below my feet. The air is warm and musty. The entrance of the cavern behind me widens up a bit and I see far ahead the twin shadows of her breasts obstructing the exit, as she introduces her other hand near me. A vast commotion takes place. I sense more than I see the motion of giant thighs lifting up in front of me, brushing against the fabric of the sleeping bag. Another sound of fabric. Cotton sliding against skin. It ascends up above me, fumbles at the knees and then comes down again along the legs. A sudden whiff of a very familiar smell comes to me from the darkness ahead. I brace myself against my animal side. I still need to go back out and let the fiend know what a lousy joke this was. My honor depends upon it, dammit…!. A second later, my lower self is in full flag, as I listen to the panties being discarded in the depths of the sleeping bag by the invisible feet.
Light pours in behind me as Noeleen is lifting the entrance. I see her eyes, focused on me, and her little girl’s smile again.
“Young lord of the dark mountains, you wouldn’t refuse a welcome party to your lands to this poor damsel in distress, would you?”
“Lady, our mountains are all for you to enjoy”, I say, “and your ungraceful “faux-pas” may still be forgiven, but, I pray thee, what will you offer us in return?”
“My lord, if you hasten Southwards, you will find a treasure I brought for you from my estranged kingdom. It’s freely given, and I prey thee in return to give it your full attention.”

I feel grasped by her right hand , briefly lifted in the dark and gently set on a warm bed of scented pubic hair. The aroma around me is pushing aside all social graces and I just give a glance back to my girl yonder (whose left hand has settled on her breast, I notice) before crawling on all four towards the deep valley of her thighs.

What is awaiting me down the road hasn’t always been easy to cope with. When Noeleen told me on that fateful day “Straighten up, will you.”, on that road , when she first had the feeling I wasn’t as tall as I should be, how could I have ever been able to conceive this simple sentence was not only inadvertently introducing me to a totally new world, but in a way to a totally new biology?

Like a lot of guys, I guess, my discovery of sex hadn’t found me exactly thrilled at the literal contemplation of the other sex. Fascinated, yes, definitely, aesthetically pleased, well, no, not really. The feminine sex seemed to me then a mysterious object, with its many folds and hidden promises, its unseen space and inner flesh. I never really took the time, as a newbie to the game of love, to really gaze at it, to really explore its strange biology. I was far more fascinated by the girl’s body I was seeing and touching, and by the final miracle of the penetration and its consequences. Yet came a time for me when I could not escape the geography of an organ that was quickly turning into… a place.

The Shrinking had brought much misery to us during the first stages, and our (partial) victory over the insidious enemy owes much to our mutual acceptance of the new rules of the game. Little by little, my dwindling self was confronted by the subjective enlargement of Noeleen’s sex. The act of love, which had  quickly  become the time for the thrilling exploration of a wonderful feminine landscape, had  also been at first a brutal confrontation between me and that hungry organ, that wet aperture, that vital space I could no longer adequately fill. It took some serious love and understanding and trust to cope with  the claustrophobic and  liquid world that was opening to me. The very first time I actually inserted my whole body in the hot and wet and throbbing cavern  of flesh, I had nothing but this love (and admittedly a zealous enthusiasm) to overcome a really tangible fear.

I love this part now. As I let myself hang from the strong pubic hairs, I cannot see anything yet all my body is moving to its goal with undeterred aplomb. I know what I want, and I’m gonna get it, that’s about the gist of it. The scent of Noeleen’s sex is so overwhelming, all playfulness has been replaced in my head by a primal urgency. In the increasing heat inside the sleeping bag, the air is so full of this smell my head is dizzy, my breathing laboured, and my joy unabated. I feel Noeleen’s slow rhythmic motion, feel the impressive presence of the crushing thighs around me. I only get apprehensive, when, my too feet already deep within the labia, I hesitate to let go of the hairs to find purchase below. I fear for a split second the fall backward in the darkness, the risky landing on the sleeping bag floor, in front of a crushing wall of flesh, as Noeleen’s is really getting agitated.

Of course, this is silly, and I do let go. And Noeleen’s fingers come of course in the nick of time to press me against  her burning cleft. My body is already totally drenched in her fluids, and I can hear her soft moaning far, far away. I tentatively begin to insert my foot inside, my dick raging against the warm flesh that begins to surround me, when suddenly the large finger pad in my back is pressing me hard, lifting me up and sliding my body against the swollen folds.

Damn, I guess I forgot to take care of an important step. Noeleen’s clitoris is shaming my dick into oblivion, (its all right, I’m used to the feeling) and it obviously needs my immediate attention. That suits fine anyway, cos’ I find I have developed a very good  working relationship with it over the past few years. Not to mention I do not wish to hear any complaint about machismo and insensitiveness to her needs from my enormous girl (in our arguments, she tends to get the upper hand for some reason). For a few enthusiastic minutes I make sure she understands I got her subtle message, and a loud gasp from beyond the darkness tells me she may not complain too much tomorrow. That box is ticked, now where was I? Oh yes, breaking and entering was my simple program…

The frenzy that greets me deep inside her is always an awesome reminder of the near symbiotic relationship we have achieved. My eyes and mouth closed, I immerse myself in a furnace of flesh where my simple presence triggers a wondrous response.  Every gesture I make, any contortion I go through is answered by the swift inner motions of her sensitive flesh. Noeleen’s vagina is espousing my very being with its flesh, reacting, pressing, and convulsing in a powerful crescendo. The world is nothing but scent, flesh and the increasing sloshing of Noeleen’s pleasure. I hear beyond the nearby liquid noises, the deeper gurgles of her body, the vast workings of her digestive system nearby. (I do feel at times so totally humbled, nearly erased, immersed as I am within her body, but that never lasts long : commandeering for a few minutes the sensations of this enormous world always brings my ego to inversely proportional heights, all things considered.)

After a few exhausting but immensely pleasurable minutes, the hot walls around me start pulsating in a less responsive way, pressing harder on me, taking on their own rhythm, as Noeleen loses her control in the overwhelming needs and sensations of her orgasm. Myself, I’m adding my tiny contribution to the torrential world around me, the darkness turning into a deep white tunnel of light. As the pulsations increase, I just have time to brace myself for impact….

I fall exhausted on the soaked sleeping bag, surrounded by the invisible but still trembling walls of the massive thighs. I hear Noeleen breathing deeply and chaotically still, as I crawl away from her heaving bottom. ( I was slow on the up-take once, and found myself neatly stuck between sweaty ass-cheeks, an experience that filled Noeleen with glee, but that I’m reluctant to repeat). The heat around me is unbelievable and I can only hope the damsel is going to remember her “ dildo” needs to breathe once in a while.

Just as I offer this silent prayer to the God of the Shrinkee, the sleeping bag is shaken by a thunderous ripping noise. Oh no, oh no. She didn’t dare, did she? As the vast cave fills up with the heinous smell, and as I duck for cover, I hear the roar of laughter explode somewhere in the outside world. A second later fumbling hands frantically unzip the bag, and the moonlit inside of the tent appears above me.
Noeleen is bringing my lifeless body to her lips, and give me a tremendous kiss (made somewhat chaotic by her laughter). Alas, I am dead to the world, inert in her hand.
“Ow, come on, stop it, you silly, you know it was accidental, and after all it was your good work that relaxed me so well.”
But she’s talking to a hero betrayed in the most ignominious way, and fallen in the line of duty. His body is all she can throw her sarcasms at.
“Oh, man, I feel another one coming. You’re so dead, you won’t mind meeting this one close and personal, will you, then? “, manages to hiccup the Fiend.
“Noeleen, do this, and I will kick your ass into kingdom come!” I roar, sitting in her palm like a doll on springs.
"All right, all right. Just kidding, don't get your panties in a knot, buster", she laughs. "Mmmmmm, what you did tonite was really great!" she adds with a purr in her voice, and a twinkle in her eyes. she sets me near her head, on a cushion of brown hair. "I especially liked the part where..." and on and on she goes, describing to me the last events, as if I hadn't been there.... Girls....

We sleep through our first night in the mountains like angels on their clouds.

tbc

nostromo

Into the Wild   

Part III

The first rays of lights are barely reaching the valley that Noeleen is busy preparing the breakfast. This is an ungodly hour and I resist the waking with all my usual stubbornness, burying my head under the pillow. However it is somewhat challenging to try and ignore the motions and cheerful comments of a girl the size of a building. “RISE AND SHINE, IT’S A BEAUTIFUL DAY!” Oh my, and she’s in a good mood…

Noeleen is well aware of my natural reluctance to early rising. But she knows how to use a soft approach and does what every girl does, when confronted with this problem: she takes me, my bed and my entire bedroom and brings us outside. I find myself staring at the sky, harassed by the chirping of birds and caressed by a cool breeze. I wanna die… Noeleen is softly singing to herself, in a melodious din of cooking utensils. Wrapping myself in my cotton sheet, I get up and risk a tentative look over the edge of the box. An enormous container of drinking chocolate lands three meters in front my eyes with a thunderous clang on our little metallic table. It now stands next to my “bedroom”, like a big silo of goodies. That sudden commotion sends my heart in my throat and achieves complete awakening. 

Noeleen comes up to me, huge and curvaceous, her brown hair long and flowing over naked shoulders. In a second, my bedroom is covered by her huge shadow, and I have to crane my neck to see beyond the twin hills of her breasts.
“Oh, you’re up. Great, we have plenty to do today, come up for your shower.”
I will keep my calm. I am Zen. I am a benevolent creature.
“Noeleen. Look around, everyone is still asleep. They know. They’ve done it before. It’s called a holiday. Extra sleep is included in the package.”
“Nonsense. How do you want to be in touch with nature, if you spent your time ignoring it? Come on, get a-moving, lazy!” Off she goes, warming bio goat-milk on our little burner.
I watch her tiredly, my eyes drifting along the long tanned legs that her denim shorts seem bent on exposing to the world. That sights warms me up to her again.( I am weak)

I climb out over the side of the box. Under my feet, the metal surface of the table is cold and unfriendly. I go round the chocolate powder box , and walk aimlessly around bowls and forks and spoons. I have a hard time waking up. Noeleen comes up to me and grabs me between her fingers. “No breakfast till you’re clean, buster.”
I rise in the air to be greeted in the heavens by cavernous nostrils.
“Wow, you smell funny! What have you been up to recently?” She adds with a wink.
“Risking my life pleasuring you?”
“Really? Oh , yes, now that you mention it, I think I vaguely remember some brief activity in the lower deck last night”.
“Some activity!! I was heroic! Crowds were cheering! The girls next tent begged for my assistance!”
“Did they, now? Well, you’re mine today, buster.”
“Has it ever been otherwise?” I sigh.
“Hell, I’m not too sure about that.”
My heart stops for half an hour. Could she know about the “incidents”? But she’s smiling and I don’t want to dwell on the idea.

She has filled in the bathtub with soapy water. As usual, I try and ignore the humbling fact my bathtub is a cat’s plastic bowl… The smelly water does the trick and the day takes its real colours.

Our breakfast is following the rules of The Safe and Nutritious Guidelines . As usual, Noeleen is using the tip of her fork to fill in the tiny cups and plates that suit my condition. No matter how hard she tries, she always gives me too much, and only my ultra-fast midget metabolism has prevented me from turning into a pink golf ball.

But all good things come to an end and it is time to tackle our training program. I am quite ready for it. I have lifted many weight (sugar cubes) and honed my body for the ordeal. Time to take it to the test.

I am standing next to the giant dome of our tent, when two large meteors come flying out through the opening. The big boots land on the grass, crushing the little green forest in its wake. I am well used to this type of  violent events, and am not too upset. I walk to the boot near me, which is lying there, like a sleeping elephant. The massive rubber sole is a black wall of convoluted crevasses and bosses. I walk around, with this natural wonderment that comes from contemplating the usual objects of life, magnified a hundred times. The surface of the boot is an intricate landscape of tough fabric and metal hooks. I can peer inside the dark cavern, from which emanates a strong smell of synthetic fabric and leather. I have a feeling this pleasant smell won’t last the day.

It is still a strange thought to me, knowing that this space where I could easily lie in will be in a few minutes entirely filled by the foot of my girlfriend. And here she is now, coming out of the tent, feet first. Two huge pillars emerge first and I have to move quickly out of the way, as one of them slides past me. Noeleen is ecstatic with energy and beams a wide smile in my direction. She grabs the shoe next to me and set her foot inside. I gaze at the length of her calf, smooth and muscular (her epilating budget could sink the economy of a small country I often remind her). Today is when we put those calves of her to good use, it seems.

She’s wearing a neat bluish tank top that leaves her bare navel winking at me from the centre of her toned belly. Give her two guns and she’ll be a regular Lara croft. I watch as she wraps her head in a colourful bandana, and starts dragging her backpack out of the tent. When she stands up at last, and looks down at me from her formidable height, I feel as frail as the blades of grass she’s trampling under her big boots.

At times, the Shrinking ebbs away from me. I often dream of us, about the way we were when we met, when I had to slightly look down when gazing at her eyes. When I’m lucky, I get to dream of moments of intimacy, when her body lies in my arms and when she’s as light as a mist against me. I recall conversation in dreamland when we evoke the strange times of the Shrinking, and we shrug it off in an embrace. That’s the way things should be. When I wake up, I always feel the whole world bearing down on my shoulders and the presence of my girl seem to both fill in the universe and at the same time recede away from me like a fleeing galaxy.
For a second, as I stand between her booted feet, looking up at her down-turned face , I do not know whether to laugh or to cry.

……………………………………

Two hours later, we are sweating buckets and hoping for a quick death. Well, technically,  Noeleen is. Myself, I have insisted on taking place between her breasts, my feet tucked into some meshes of the sport bra she’s wearing. My body is covered by the blue fabric of her top and only my torso and elbows are visible. So, I have to say that exertion is not my main worry just now.

The sun is already high in the sky and Noeleen is walking steadily on the path that leads to a refuge we spotted on the map (it took us some time to locate it on the map, since I was unfortunately sitting on it…). She’s  breathing slowly, and her skin behind me is radiating enough heat to cook me tender. I watch the rocky path flash by under me, as a  vast and powerful naked thigh appears every two seconds , swallowing what seems to me incredible distances. Right next to me, on my right and left, the two mounds of her breasts are alive with the motion of her gait, and would be bobbing up and down without the strong restraint of the bra that also encapsulates me.
As the amazing landscape moves past me, I feel like the pilot of a giant and powerful machine.

At times, I look up to fend the occasional drop of sweat that comes tumbling down Noeleen’s neck and into her cleavage, and I do my best to wriggle my way out of its trajectory. (Not always with success, and my back and legs are permeated with Noeleen’s scent. Far from being repellent, the experience is somewhat titillating and enhances the trip).
We do not talk much. Noeleen needs her strength and my early smart-ass comments about her slow marching met with a threatening thumb that pushed me deep inside her bra, and it took me a few minutes of extreme effort to overcome the strong elastic band and come out again in the open. I thought it wise then to let my girl do the walking without my enlightened directions. We’re a team.

The slope has taken a strong angle and the path is convoluting in a deep forest of evergreens. The canopy is so high, it’s pointless to even try and compare this to any gothic cathedral. The trunks of these enormous living things are probably part of the Zen experience we’re looking for, humbling and awesome beyond words. Early in the walk I had asked Noeleen to do a bout of tree-hugging. Hell, that seemed to be the adequate thing to at the time, I‘ll rationalize this later. So she set me at the foot of a vast pine tree and I hopped on the first roots to reach the complex wall of the trunk. I spread my arms to enlace the tree… Above me the large body of my girl came close and I marvelled at the span of her long arms, surrounding the tree in their embrace. We stayed like this for a full two seconds, and I was preparing myself for a flash f timeless wisdom, when the giggle started upstairs. There’s no room for metaphysics in this girl’s mind. 

Two hours later, the sun is getting hotter by the minute and the snacks Noeleen has steadily consumed along the way (bombarding me in crumbs) are now longer an excuse to postpone the lunch break. The plateau we have reached is pretty elevated, but harbours a magnificent pool of blue fresh water, alimented by a small waterfall.  All around us the rocky mountains beckon us in the hot shimmering air.

“I think we should ignore the temptation of this fresh and clean water, Noeleen, and press forward to a harsher environment. It will fortify our wills and bodies, and keep us focused on our errand”.
“I think I will bury you in a hole near that tree yonder, while I’ll go for a swim. I may dig you out later, if I can remember the spot”, comes the stern answer.

Noeleen groans when she sets her backpack down on the grass. A mountain carrying a building, that’s how strong she looks to me. She takes us close to the little lake. No one is in the vicinity and we are the privileged witnesses of all this glittering. A second later, a sudden lurch of my vast vehicle is bringing us down to a lower level. I watch as the entire content of the water bottle goes plunging noisily in the giant throat above me. Noeleen’s face is shining in the sun, and near me, lazily splayed on her breasts, some long strands of brown hair are wet with perspiration. Noeleen bends forwards to untie her boots. This sudden motion brings her breasts against her knees, and I find myself in the warm grip of a squeezing mass of flesh.  I struggle to extirpate myself from the deadly vice of her the twin mounds, and succeed so well that I fall between Noeleen’s feet.  Like most falls for me now, this is not so much a painful experience, as a disorientating one. But I find myself well protected by the green moss under us, and quietly attempt an elegant recovery, brushing my clothes (I don’t have any today) and straightening up my dignity.
“You could have waited for me to give you a hand to disembark”
“Well, I’d rather jump off the boat than be suffocated between your mammalian appendages, dear.”
“Humph… Most of the time they don’t seem big enough for your appetite, you little perv.”

At that moment, the first foot emerges from a tired boot and lands near my standing body. A flock of bird fall silently from the sky. Flowers around us wither in a sudden burst of disease. The very moss I stand in turns brown and shrivels away, in a vast expanding circle of death. I fall on my knees, stricken, my heart failing me.
“Ow, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
She proceeds with the liberation of the second dreadnought and I run for my life.

We have a simple lunch, the sort that would suit a horse I guess. I’m sitting between Noeleen thighs, contentedly eating the minuscule portion allotted to me. While enormous portions disappears within the body behind me, I ‘m content with the tiny one allotted to me. At least  no one will ever come and dispute my lunch. But I’m wrong. My gaze wanders casually to a motion I noticed on my left. Someone else is interested in sharing my lunch after all. My heart has turned to a spiky ball frantically trying to escape the confines of my chest. The thing staring at me (and my lunch, we’re very attached) is taller than I am. The globulous green eyes are fixed on me, and the long legs and pincers are so still, the thing looks like a sculpture. I’ve seen praying manta before. Hell, I’ve held a few in the palm of my hand. They’re an interesting mix of cuteness and cruelty. Just now cuteness doesn’t compute. This is a big one. I know they come in various size. This is the extra large type, and sitting as I am, the head of the thing is higher than me. I’d rather face a delirious Rottweiler.
My throat is so dry, I can’t utter a sound. Far above, the munching /gulping sounds from my hungry girl are punctuating our silent showdown. The insect moves a tentative arm in my direction, its head moving from right to left in a near interrogative fashion…
The pink mass of a stupendous foot crashes upon the monster. I actually have time to see it turn it head upwards, as the giant sole falls upon it, forcing down and crushing it into the green grass. The huge thing stays there for a few seconds while I stare at it.
“Oh my god, oh my god….” Comes Noeleen’s voice.
The foot lifts off and I see under the sole the remnants of the praying manta sticking to the wrinkled skin. Its head is stuck somewhere between Noeleen’s toes.
“Oh, Yuk!!!
Noeleen peels away the mangled body with a hesitant finger. The disgust in her face is already giving way to total distress.
“Ohhhhh….What did I do? What did I do?”
The indignation is bringing me back faster than any slap on the head.
“Well saving my life is what you did ! Would you rather have him take me for dinner?”
“No, no, of course not, but…”
I have a fleeting vision of my own body stuck under her sole. How can a being so powerful be so concerned about us little things?
“Noeleen, this poor beast was very sick, I tell you. It wasn’t healthy at all. I could see it clearly in its eyes, old age and all.  I promise you did it a favour by squash…by dispatching him before it suffered more. Honest, I swear!”

………………………………

The water is an incredible cobalt blue. The pool is created by the gentle stream accompanying our path. A small waterfall marks aliments it, about 5 feet tall, but to me it plunges into the pool like a majestic cataract. The stream resumes farther only to disappear in the forest we came from. Noeleen has finished eating another soja-based bio bar, her feet bathing in the cool waters. I’m sitting next to her in the shadow of her body, like a little rodent near Snow White (I expect white bunnies to turn up any moment now) . My girl, now oblivious of the recent drama under her foot, eventually gets up, and winking at me says: “It’s time , buster”.

Before I can react she’s already up, and from the heaven the denim shorts start the long trek down. I move back to avoid the fall of the crumpling mass of blue fabric. Above, the blue top is being removed as well, and I swear, the fiend is aiming at me with it. I walk back as it falls in my direction, missing me by an inch. My girl is standing akimbo, clad only with her panties, her breasts free at last to reveal their beauty to the natural world. The statuesque body is brown already from the past month of summer and its proportions are just… perfect. Noeleen whistles a song as she start wriggling her hips, her thumbs caught in her panties and slowly, oh so very slowly, starts to push them down. I probably had an interesting life, prior to this moment, but it all seem to dissolve into insignificance. I watch petrified the slow descent of the panties, along the wondrous thighs. Noeleen’s bush is wet with perspiration. A foot lifts off, then a second , and soon the pink panties are held high above ground, by a proud Noeleen.
“Put that away for me, will you?”
She aims at me and let the panties fall on top of me. The sky disappears and I find myself in a scented world of pink softness…

Our feet taste the water in unison. It’s sooo cold. Not that far away above us, the sheets of snow are a good reminder of the provenance of the clear liquid. Noeleen does not care at all, and in a jiffy she‘s already knee deep in the pool. I have recoiled back to the shore, mortified. Droplets of ice-cold water have stuck to my foot.  Ever since the Shrinking, I entertain ambivalent feelings about water. The surface tension is not something I can ignore any longer. The flow of liquid has followed suit with the rest of my environment, magnified, empowered, and weird beyond belief. At my size, the pool is a lake of blue sticky substance, the water a strange element trying to cling to my body. The buoyancy is also problematic. Water is a powerful milieu that can bear me easily, but the surface of my body is so small, it no longer brings stability. It has been agreed I would stick to the shore, and not venture further in the pool, and its underlying current.

Lying on the shore, the water lapping at my legs (you get used to it, after all) I observe the giant naked body of my girl, as she gathers enormous boulders (pebbles, really) and builds a small arena for me to swim in. The rocks land in the water with loud splashing noises, deposited by hands more powerful than any man-made cranes. When she crouches down to arrange her work, the sight I get sends shivers to my spine, and only the cold temperature of the waters prevents me from going into melt-down mode.

Swimming in the cool puddle is such a luxury after the past hours in the heat of the summer, I feel life coming back in my members (all of them, actually). The huge body is walking away, with a wave of  a hand in my direction and I realize how deep the pool is as it slowly disappear underwater. For a few minutes we swim together, myself feeling like a minute reflection of my girl, in my own private quarters. Beyond the wall of boulders, her mighty head is coming closer again, till she has to drag the length of her body on the stones at the bottom. As she nears me, her smile bigger than me, she pushes a tall wave in front of her.
“Noeleen , be you careful, you…”
But the wave is coming fast now and is higher than the little rocky barrier. Before I can brace myself, the blue hill comes toppling over the edge of my pool and crashes into me. I’m dragged to the bottom and onto the shore. That makes Noeleen laugh, of course, no point expecting a bit of sympathy in this world. Her two arms come to rest on the edge of my little arena, and her vast head settles on her crossed hands, overlooking my playground.

“Man this is sooooo good!” she purrs,” We’ve got to start meeting more often like this”
I gather myself up and go back in the water, swimming right under her chin.
“Yep, I could easily warm up to this out-door thing, sweetie, especially if I get to meet indigenous life form like you, au naturel ” I retort.
“Oh, you’ll soon need to do more than just gazing to really know this life form, you know. There is territory about me that could use a little exploring.”  That’s my girl.

The Tupperware container we used for our lunch makes for a pretty acceptable boat, and we’ve overcome our cautious decision to keep me ashore.  Sure, it is not very manoeuvrable, but hey, I’m afloat on the pool and it’s quite fun. My propulsion system is composed of a very large mass pushing me around. Noeleen is looking down at me and takes a malicious pleasure in dropping water on me. I don’t know whether she does it on purpose, but she’s keeping her crotch level with my boat, and I hear the scratching of her wet pubic hair against the plastic of the container. The cliff of her stomach is dominating my little craft, gently pushing forward. She’s heading us toward the clear waterfall.

All good things must come an end. I was just contemplating less than politically correct fantasies, when a sudden lurch of her body occurs. I yelp with total loss of dignity when I see the huge frame falling forward. Noeleen does the same as she tries to restore balance, but already her belly is on top of the craft, pushing it under water. The cool water brings me back from dreamland and into a submarine world. Noeleen is still sinking forwards, and my little body is rolled now against her descending belly, as the stones at the bottom of the pool come closer and closer. I could start panicking now, but then again, the soft ceiling above and the blue world around is so pleasant to watch that I forget to do so. I see Noeleen’s knees touching the floor of the pool. In the distance, a willowy curtain of brown hair is dancing in the water. The eddies makes me gyrate madly against Noeleen’s chest now and I bump against a breast, its nipple erect and hard in the cold water. Below, the long thighs are shimmering with clear blue reflections.

 The body above regains at last some verticality and I find myself swimming along its contours, in crystal clear water. As the passing cliff starts elevating again, I swim past Noeleen loins and hitch a ride on a passing hair. In a second, I’m hauled into the air, while buckets of water fall around me. Noeleen is looking down, trying to locate me, her hands searching under the surface. I hold for dear life on the strands of hair.
“Here you are! You gave me such a fright! ….. Hold on, jeez , you never lose an opportunity, don’t you?”
My grip is getting loose. “That’s a coincidence I swear!! Save your indignation for a better occasion, I’m gonna fall any second now.” I’m so low it’s hard to see her face beyond the curvatures of her belly and breasts. Under me the water is flowing between the pillars of her thighs, as my giant saviour is moving towards the shore. I instinctively try and get a hold with my feet on some rosy folds .
“Hey stop it! That tickles!” Two fingers grab me and set me on her shoulder.
We agree I’ll be better off on hard ground for now. I find a sunny spot and prepare for a nap, while Noeleen decides  to enjoy the pool a bit longer.

………………………….

Voices. We both turn towards the forest, in time to see two girls appearing from under the canopy and looking excitedly at our little haven. Their voices are clear and young, but expressing a language I do not recognize. The tanned skin and long blond hair seem to point at Nordic tourists. They carry little backpacks, too small to be loaded with sleeping equipment, and since we’re far from any road, I would surmise they come from our camping site. Noeleen has retreated in the water with a surprised squeal, masking her nudity (with moderate success, I fear).

I watch the two towering figures come closer to the shore, the booted feet trampling the moss garden. They are coming right at me, the vibrations clearly felt in my stomach.

“Hello! Looks great here! Mind if we join?” asks the first blond girl to Noeleen, as she wipes away some sweat from her brow. It is a rhetorical question obviously, as the backpacks are already dropping to the ground (I can feel the sudden shake), and the excited girls are removing their boots. Noeleen stays dumbfounded, and only nods to them, sending a worried glance in my direction. I have moved behind some rock. Safety is my first concern of course. Unaware beings can present a real threat to my little person. However my real concern, if truth must be told, is to get a good view of the two girls, as they quickly undress. Shorts are being casually discarded, tops are falling on the ground, and naked breasts are being liberated. In five seconds, the two girls are stark naked and advancing on my position. Nordics all right, beautiful, and blond  and brazen. They wave at Noeleen, who’s head is bobbing away in the centre of the pool.
“Yoohoo, hey, how’s the water?”
“Its’ fine, just… just watch where you step” answers Noeleen. I doubt the girls catch the slight anguish in her tone.

The girl nearest to me is towering above my spot, now, a sculptural monument to fitness and beauty. Her hair is loose, and nearly reaches the base of a perfect bum. Hell, she really doesn’t need to dress at all. Although there’s plenty to see, my eyes keep coming back to the smooth hips and blond tushes. But I nearly yelp, when an enormous naked foot suddenly lands on the rock I was using as a hide out, crunching the massive boulder deeper in the ground. I scramble away to the nearest one.
“Ow, its’ cold!!” giggles the girl, as she starts tip toeing around in the water. Her enormous soles are dancing awfully close to me, in an impressing crunch of pebbles and I’m getting a bit scared. But soon enough she moves further in the pool.

The girls are laughing and talking to one another as their bodies get deeper. I can see Noeleen is hesitating between rushing to me and protecting her nudity. Although often rash, she does not offer her body to everyone’s gaze. She bears an uncertain smile on her face. Soon the girls are circling around her, starting an enthusiastic conversation about mountains, and camping and things. They are very friendly indeed. I climb up the rock near me and wave an OK sign to Noeleen. She seems visibly relieved and warms up herself to the new-comers. Meanwhile I observe the ballet of these three naked bodies in the blue water, two blond heads circling Noeleen’s brown river of hair and emitting high-pitched laughter.

Noeleen is talking back to them, in English. (Although she does speak five languages, Norwegian is not one of them.) We learn the two girls are staying at the camping site, as expected, and seem intent on following the same path we had picked for ourselves. I feel this could be an annoyance, but at the same time, they are indeed very pretty and abundance of beauty is not a bad thing in my book. I gaze lazily on the Three Graces. 

This is one of these moments I really regret my natural size though, I’d love to be with them, swimming and laughing with those three beauties. Instead I have to restrict myself to the voyeuristic genre (a fine entertainment for sure, but not as satisfying as a playful flirt). I keep away from their sight, finding a way now among the boulders and back to the shore. I can see our things lying on the green moss, and reason tells me to go and seek refuge among those. Reason tells me so, but other parts of me tell me to stay put and enjoy the show…. Choices, choices…

The girls are laughing and playing, their slim bodies catch the sun in wonderful ways but also provoke so many eddies and waves in the pool, I have retreated from the water, for fear of being washed against the rocks. I go and pick a quiet spot and decide to wait it out.

I am half asleep already when a sudden commotion makes me check the pool. A vast body is coming in my direction, emerging step after step from the tumultuous waters. The girl is dreamily gazing in my direction, as she walks to the shore. Her chest is high above sea line, then her belly emerges and her crotch, thighs, her entire body seem to enlarge frightfully, as it gains altitude. Torrents of water flow across the sun-tanned skin and the long curves of her body. In front of her a big wave of clear water is rushing forward. She’s nearly looking at me and I have to make myself real small in the crevasse. I am lying on the ground, not daring to breathe when I sense the huge dais of stone near me vibrate under an immense weight.  Opening my eyes, I see the monumental form above me, shutting off the sun. Before I can focus and react, a massive double orb of pink flesh is descending upon me.

I had found refuge between two large stone flagstones, but had failed to identify those as an ideal location for sunbathing at regular size. One of the girls has obviously come to the same conclusion. The vast ass (not too big, muscular and quite pert, I notice, even in the midst of my confusion) is now on top of me. As it settles on the stones, the rounded flesh finds its way in the crevice I am lying on, and I fear it will fill the small tunnel it has created. But after a second, during which I could have touched a very intimate and flagrant part of our visitor, it lifts again to position itself more directly on the dais. More shuffling occurs above and I find that the space I hide is now being covered by the back of the girl. I keep low as the immense weight is pushing the stones in the ground. The crevasse does bulge a tiny bit, but thankfully, the stones do not get dislodged. I am now in near darkness, a ceiling of skin above me, and the exit of the sudden tunnel a few meters away. Except that if I try and crawl from under her, I may well be spotted by the giant sunbather. Drops of waters fall onto me from the fleshy ceiling and make the crevasse suddenly damp and cool. A definite feminine flagrance emanates from the soft cover above.  I hear the second girl coming closer.

After a moment, something very heavy settles also on the flagstones. Thank god, those are well buried in the ground and do not shift. Loud chatter has resumed between the girls, an avalanche of strange phonemes I cannot understand. I hear more than I see Noeleen coming out of the water, and who seems to be treading carefully in our direction. Noeleen and I agreed we’d never envision the worst unless absolutely necessary and I know she trusts my instincts when it comes to tricky situations (which she takes a rogue pleasure in creating usually), and although she knows I am more than probably in hiding, she’s got to be worried about me. Those two girls are after all unaware of my presence and present a real danger for tiny things like me.

“You’re looking for something?” asks one of the girls.
“Err , no , no… I’m fine” answers a hesitant Noeleen. I feel bad about this.
It has been agreed we’d avoid making people aware of us. Fame is just not our thing. And to be fair, running away from paparazzi might be tricky when they’re your size, running away from paparazzi the size of buildings is even more bothersome. Making ourselves known to the camping site could well prove tiresome and, I have learnt it the hard way already, even dangerous.

Noeleen is waiting this out graciously and the girls are enticing, friendly and not as boisterous as I expected. I suspect Noeleen is keeping an eye out for me, wondering where I am and is probably grateful the girls are not jumping all over the place. Still, none are aware I am indeed very close to their little group. Light comes pouring over me as the girl above is sitting up at last. All I see at first is the tall wall of her back, and the opening up of the tunnel is indeed a relief from my claustrophobic self. But to my surprise, the blond hair of the girl is so long that a second later, a flow of blond strands is slithering down her back and entering my hide out. I have to fend away the golden ropes to manage a space for myself.

 After a few minutes of sunbathing (not for me of course, that would be too much to ask), everyone is away collecting their things, and I get to chance a glance out of the crevasse. They’re a few meters away, encasing in cruel panties a temptation I would risk my life to fulfil. I sigh with frustration, as the lovely breasts also disappear under the light fabric of their t-shirts. Damn, that was lovely indeed, I swear.  Not far away, Noeleen is doing a good pretence of getting ready herself, and looking at her is melting my frustration away. Hell, no matter how pretty the Norwegian are, they look like trolls next to Noeleen. This world is keeping its priorities just where I would keep them.

I’m just about getting ready myself to come out of hiding when I see a silver reflection in the crevasse. A big ring of metal is resting at the bottom of my hiding place. Damn that wasn’t here before. I already know what’s gonna happen when a shadow covers me again, and  before I can search for an issue, large fingers are entering my space and fumbling about. Above, a large face has come hovering and is peering right between the flagstones. Deep blue eyes look right into mine.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!!
“Oh crap…“ I hear Noeleen say.

nostromo

INTO THE WILD   Part  IV

Noeleen is fuming. She marches ahead with a frightening determination in her step, in spite of the increasing slope (we’re nearing the refuge location, and the first sheets of snow are already within our reach). All I can see is her back and shoulders, where her long brown hair is dancing below the bandana, but I have an inkling that her face must present a interesting mixture of sulking and effort. It’s hard to keep up with her.
I observe the strong lean muscles of her calves, as they pump their way up the slope and the long thighs are glistening with a sheen of sweat.  She’s beautiful under pressure, my little Noeleen.

Hell, I don’t often get to race her up a hill, and I’m all excited. I’m goading myself to reduce the distance between us. I know I can win this race.  In practical terms, it means I’m planting my heels in the shoulder of Vicky, our blond Norwegian tourist, who had the unfortunate idea to offer me a ride and who probably wonders if I ‘m not mistaking her for some horse (Mmmm… I wonder if  I should refrain from yee-haaawing any longer). At any rate, Vicky is a very pretty horse. Under me the soft Scandinavian skin is awash in sweat , as she walks in the hard sun, and I have my hand on some long blond strands of hair, in case she collapses untimely from exhaustion. 

……………………………………..

The girls were mightily scared when they met me at first, but their display of distress was nothing compared to the glee and excitement when they realized who (well, “what” works too, I guess) I was. I’m well used to the reactions of the moving mountains, when they become aware of my existence. My entire life is a long walk in a corridor of glances, open mouths, dumbfounded faces. I’m still amazed with the ways my little presence is affecting these huge beings. As I crawled from under the rocks, I could see the vast girls stepping back in a hurry, their faces in shock, while Noeleen rolled up her eyes in annoyance behind them. I’m a rock star, really, girls swoon when I appear….except they don’t and instead recoil from me in disgust. And I used to be such a charmer…

The usual dance took place. Yes that’s us, blablabla, oh, you saw pictures, did you? Blablabla…. The Norwegian kept glancing at one another and giggling. I kept a composed face full of the dignity that fits my station, hoping in the back of my mind that they weren’t seeing me for the little voyeur I really am. After all, I did not even know their names , I already had a pretty good idea of their intimate loveliness . Formalities were no longer required, I suppose. So much the case in fact, that Vicky insisted on carrying me to the refuge. (Lana is somewhat shyer, a definitive shame, considering her beauty). Noeleen is not too pleased with the idea, I can see that. But she’s amused all the same. I try myself to refuse the offer, but hell, I’m too small to even count , ain’t I? The decision is taken by the girls, who insist so hard, we have to relent.

I find it hard at times to analyze the reactions of people to my condition. From fear to fascination, I’ve witnessed a wide variety of expressions related to the First Sighting. Guys are fascinated usually, and more than a little sorry for the poor son of a bitch who can’t even hold his pint properly. Girls on the other hand are fascinated and always seem to find me cuter than I really am (although I’m admittedly a stud, no doubt about that, I don’t think my sex appeal has been enhanced much by the development) . I suppose the appeal is the same as for the cute little kitten they can hold in their hands, for the boyfriend they can cuddle (and eventually dispose of maybe).

However, the sheer weirdness of the situation is even more striking when I am seen in company of Noeleen. The questions raised about our relationship range from bewilderment as to the stability of our couple, to a real and invading interest for our sex life. Hell, even in Noeleen’s presence, it’s quite amazing the amount of flirting I get to do since I live ankle-high. I suppose girls don’t feel threaten by me any more. I’ve a suspicion the dominance in the relationship is attracting them as well. Here is a guy who’s not about to boss them around, they think.. ( Well, can’t say they ever felt threatened by me when I was tall, as I wasn’t the pushiest of dates, anyway). Or maybe the enormous difference in size is making them forget I’m still a person who can blush or get “interested” in they antics.

Now, as Noeleen is walking ahead of us, I can positively hear every jealous bone in her body scream to her to reconsider the fateful arrangement. Any minute now, she’ll turn round, give a mighty uppercut to Vicky, and re-conquer her man whom she probably sees as straying off the path of faithfulness. There’s a tension in her, that I’m well used to read.  Myself, I’m extremely relaxed I must say. Vicky is delighted with the adventure, in spite of the hellish train Noeleen is running, and between gasps, she keeps giggling and trying to wink at me on her shoulder. Every ten seconds, her massive face is turning in my direction, asking me if all is well, and each time I see closing on to me a lovely scented cheek, that begs a kiss. I think it wise to wait till Noeleen is busy pummelling a bear into submission, to attempt the forbidden act. On we march.

……………………………………..

The blondness of our new friends is matched only by their chattiness. What they say, we don’t really know, but they have a lot to discuss apparently. They take turn carrying me to the refuge. I find that Lana’s hair is somewhat finer that Vicky’s, I need a few more strands to make sure I am not toppled over her shoulder during the ride. The landscape is nearly the same though, a vertiginous drop to an inviting shady grotto between two mounds of tanned skin under their white tops. (The landscape around us is fine too…) The same long thighs appear rhythmically below me, with a sensuous shine to them. Yep, they are still pretty much alike.  Lana’s long neck near me is now a heavenly sight, and I am getting happier by the minute about this unexpected turn of events.

On one occasion, I do lose my footing and slide off Lana’s tanned shoulder. That sends me flying at the end of the blond hair and then bobbing against a generous breast. That breast is happy to see me, t seems, and bounces with glee. As I balance right and left, big letters of some Norwegian brand pass by, a soft and bouncy billboard. I bounce along for an interminable minute while Lana is laughing. Off  I go, and then back, trying to stop the pendulum, my feet finding purchase at times on a very firm nipple that protrudes shamelessly through the thin fabric of her top.. I have the feeling the owner of the nipple does not dislike the gymnastic I’m doing. When the pendulum comes to a stop, I actually find myself astride the little mound, to the joy of my host. I’m splayed against the soft mound, that keeps bobbing up and down to the rhythm of the marching girl. Vicky comes closer, a walking mountain of a girl, and teasingly tries to push me off my anchorage point with a long painted fingernail. The girls are ecstatic, and well, I’m not that unhappy myself.
“You ok, back there?”, comes Noeleen’s voice.
A hand discreetly picks me up and sets me again on the shoulder. Wise, very wise, girls. Below me, the bouncing carries on without me.

…………………………………………………………………

The refuge itself is a disappointment. The small cabin displays some mattresses strewn about on an uneven stone floor, a large ugly wooden table reigns in the “salon”, and the kitchen is badly equipped. I sit on the edge of the table, with that ease that comes from long practice in high distances, observing the three girls as they take a well deserved nap after all this climbing. The way Vicky’s arms is thrown around Lana’s waist is very touching I have to say, and is to my little one-track mind nothing short but erotic, sending me to a contemplation of forbidden pleasures.  Shafts of lights come down from the ceiling windows, and myriads of dust motes dance in the over-heated room.

Noeleen is fast asleep in seconds, with that abandon and trust in Morpheus’ arms, that I liked so much about her, from the very first days we sleep together. Her hair is splayed about in an aureole of brown meshes longer than myself. She’s tired too, and has engulfed gallons of water before going to sleep. Of our little group, I’m the only survivor, it seems, my own fatigue coming mostly from the frustration my dick has been submitted to, surrounded as I was by so much beauty. (I ‘m all for enjoying life to the full, but hey, at times I can show some restraint.)

I drop to the floor, a frightening jump for sure, but since gravity doesn’t care so much for me any more, the landing on the padded back of a rucksack is hardly felt at all. I feel the urge to go and pay a visit to our new friends, as one would to the Rushmore monument. As I near Vicky’s feet, they take more and more the allure of sleeping dinosaurs. My tiny foot steps on the wooden floor are totally silent, so I do not fear awaking them, I must say. I have an easy time climbing the musty mattress, and when my arms finally come on top, I am greeted by the statuesque shape of the sleeper, feeling like a tiny Indiana Jones discovering his next adventure. The pink flesh is not that sweet smelling, but hey at my size, the world of smell is so much enhanced, I am well used to the flagrance of the human beings around me. A boulder of a toe is beckoning me, and I can’t help touching the soft surface of the undertoe, passing my hand over the ridges of the skin. I walk nonchalantly along the sole, a powerful wall of wrinkled flesh, crisscrossed with many lines, whose top I can just about touch. 

In front of me the length of her calf is stretching out in the distance. I follow the long wall of smooth skin, as one would the toppled down pillar of a fallen temple.(I do get near religious, in moments like that). The hairs on the leg are fine, and very blond. I refrain from tugging at one though, that, now, could well stir some trouble. The enormous knee looks powerful above me, and yet very fine and feminine. Hell, both girls could do the catwalk any day. The thigh is just awesome; I walk past the underside of it, letting my hand touch it lightly, while struggling a bit to keep steady on the rugged surface of the mattress. The pale cliff near me is round and inviting. Above, another thigh is piled upon it, too high for me to reach of course. (Vicky is sleeping on her side, nearly spooning her friend Lana) . The vast shape of the thigh disappears in the confines of her red shorts. When I reach them, there’s ample room between the fabric and the skin and I could easily crawl in there. The animal part of me is tugging at my left brain “Go on”, it says, “Just do it, will ya!” The right part of my brain is struggling for a while but wins the day. I decide to go round. 

I pass under the twin projections of Vicky’s comely bottom, the second cheek jutting above me like a rounded cliff. I accelerate my pace somewhat. (My heart does the same). The red short ends at last and I follow the long naked back. Vicky has stripped of her top and sleeps in her bra, whose string is just a few steps away. Her spine is nicely marked by a deep hollow line in the nape of her back. In a few steps, I get near the fabric string of the giant bra.(I wonder at the mammoth breasts this simple “rope” is imprisoning, and I’d love to go on the other side of the great body, but squeezing between Lana and Vicky’s bodies seems a bit risky, even for that prize). Too high for me to reach is a simple knot, in the middle of the brown cliff her back. I am dying to get to it and tug at the loose tie over there, I have to say. Just a healthy reflex, I’m sure. The whole cliff near me is swelling with her breathing, and I’m getting my feet already entangled in the long blond strands of hair that litter the matter. I decide to move away, when the mattress suddenly shakes.

Unseen from me, a vast body is moving behind Vicky, sending earthquake-like ripples through the ground. Hu ho. I start moving backwards already when the giant back start lowering towards me, in response to the commotion. Behind me, a vast thigh is shifting and landing on the bed, dragging the mountainous ass with it. A huge arm and shoulder have appeared above and are falling in my direction. The arm  is landing already on the space in front of me, cutting my retreat.  I still run towards it , feeling more than seeing the wall of Vicky’s back turning and coming to rest on the space I was occupying a second ago. I’m considering panic as a viable option when suddenly a huge shock send me tumbling on the dusty mattress while something unbelievably heavy settles on me. I am one with the mattress as it creaks and sinks under the newly settling weight. More motion and then near darkness.

I consider my situation. My legs are stuck under Vicky’ shoulder blade, my head and torso miraculously are free and positioned under the new and claustrophobic landscape of her armpit. Everything around me is flesh and sweaty smell. A dislocated snorting sound comes from somewhere above. Vicky did not even awaken during her move. Great stuff. Under me, long blond hairs are trying to imprint themselves into my chest (with success I fear).  Bloody hell, I think accurately, how am I to explain this to Noeleen?

Humility is a virtue. Trying to worm your way out from a girl’s armpit during her sleep is a humbling experience, if any. I tug and pull and groan and struggle, in the near obscurity between her back and the fat of her upper arm. If this girl moves another inch…. Already the arm in front of me has come closer, as she poised her left hand on her belly, closing even more the space left for manoeuvres. If she squeezes now, she’ll break my neck and smother me for sure. My sweet Vicky just now has acquired the unexpected sex appeal of a car compressor machine and I want out. So, more groaning, more pulling, more tugging, under the heavy swelling motion of the great back It takes me a good twenty minutes to get free, squeezing between her arm and ribs, trying not to touch any more skin than is necessary. Once my legs are free (I’m strong in many ways since the Shrinking I got to admit), I still have to cautiously crawl my way under the jutting overhang of her forearm. The ground is nothing but strands of hair and the slightest pulling could wake my unaware host. At least I don’t have to breathe her sweat any longer. At last I can stand up, exhausted and coughing out the dust from the mattress in the quiet air of the silent refuge. Bloody idiot, I keep repeating in my head. I stand there for a second, spitting out my lungs, in the shadow of the great sleeping body. Bloody idiot. Just then, an other upheaval starts, as the vast cliff of Vicky’s belly is coming in to view, a descending view of tanned flesh,  that rolls over and buries me under its weight. Oh, for fuck sake...

I cautiously walk past the enormous bodies of our Norwegian friends.
My head is dizzy from the fight against the Great Belly. I was saved by the depression created by a button in the mattress, that gave me head space and breathing air. I confess I had a moment when I sort of doubted my personal luck, as I lied there, in darkness, smothered under the flagrant skin, listening to the gurgling sounds of the giant intestines above my head (Vicky was digesting some protein-filled tablets, the only lunch she apparently needed). The noises are so close and overwhelming, I felt, pressurized on all side as I was, as if indeed I was inside this body, on my way to turdness. Still, I was well aware that death itself would never protect me from Noeleen’s wrath at finding me under another girl’s body and decided to try and crawl again my way out, taking advantage of the breathing motions to extirpate myself from under that belly. A sudden and deafening burst of activity in the nether region (I suspect her drinking the water from that spring earlier is going to produce some unpleasant results later) gave way to some wriggling about and created a window of opportunity so to speak for my launch back into regular space. I squeezed out at last, liquefied by the heat, like toothpaste from a tube. Standing outside again, retching, I did contemplate kicking at that great body, that seemed so bent on keeping me under its power, but I let my cowardly side take over and ran away instead, like a frightened cockroach. Humility indeed…

I shall circumvent by the North road, via the hills of the pillows. It’s Lana’s turn to hold on to Vicky’s waist now. These two are quite attached it seems. I tip toe around the blond domes of their heads, treading lightly on their pillows and aiming towards the brown river of Noeleen’s hair. Beyond her giant head, I can see the bottle of water and near the bottom of that great tower, the cup of water she’d prepared for me. I do indeed feel like a crash survivor. The past forty minutes have been nothing but struggle and heat and pressure. I’ am drenched in sweat , trembling from the exertion and I badly need a drink.

Noeleen arms is extended, and her hand is resting on the brick that serves as a table in this sauna of a room. Carefully, oh so very carefully, I climb on Noeleen’s arm and follow the great trunk to the brick, as one would cross a river on tumbled tree-trunk. Under my naked feet, the powerful pulse through her veins is reminding me this is indeed no tree-trunk. The water is there, fresh and limpid in the little cup. I need at least 1200 gallons of it. I am just about to reach it, savouring it already in my mind, bending over the edge to dip my face in it, when huge fingers close around my body and a dreaming Noeleen brings me close to the loving furnace of her bosom. I struggle against the fleshy pads that surround me, but Noeleen , not even waking up, just snuggles me closer against her throat, like a child would hang on to its favourite piece of cloth. The temperature rises another few thousands notches. Great. Just great….

When the girls wake up an hour later, all refreshed and revitalized, I am no more but a shadow walking on the brink of Oblivion. Noeleen is not too surprised to find me in her grip. Hell, she often enough snatches me at night when she’s afraid to have bad dreams, a fact she refuses to admit as true, despite the evidence of her awakenings. I need to get a camera.
“What were you doing again, buster?” She frowns. “Can’t you just stay on your own for one hour?”
“You know me, sweetheart, I was getting really bored and needed some close company for a change. And it was getting chilly out there.”
“You’re being silly again”, says a distracted Noeleen as she swallows in one gulp the content of the little cup of water.
“Noeleeeeeen!!!”
“What ? "

.......................................................................................................

Much later that day...

The air is so hot, I feel my body liquefy in the damp musky hole. Waves of juices wash over me, sticking to me, making me one with the flesh around me.  The walls are pulsating vigorously, in a din of squelching sounds and suction noises. Above me, gurgles and liquid displacement noises reveal the presence of a tremendous organism in full motion. My hands are pushing helplessly against the narrow fleshy folds. At times, a finger pries open the entrance of the dark tunnel, mercifully sending some air to my rescue. I’m quite at ease in this strange environment, and I should be pretty content to participate in the confusing upheaval.No really, I should enjoy myself here, yet, something is bothering me. Call me picky, but little details bother me at times, like the fact for instance, that I don’t really know whose vagina this is…

Tbc?

nostromo

INTO THE WILD       Part V

“So, you had your fun?”
“Well, it was pleasant,  what do you want me to say?”
“Nothing, nothing…”
I sigh, Noeleen is not that easy to handle at times. After all it wasn’t my idea to have those girls around. And honestly, it really was harmless, as interaction goes. (I won’t mention to Noeleen the close encounter with Vicky’s body in the refuge, during our “rest” period).
I watch the road drift away below me, my arms poised on Noeleen’s breasts as I inhabit her generous cleavage for transportation on our way back to the camp. The shaking is more intense than during the climb, as Noeleen is hardly trying to cushion her walking gait for my comfort. Below me the long thighs are pumping away through the unkind territory of the descending rocky path, and the hard crushing noises of her boots are marking the beat of our leisurely return.
Vicky and Lana are gone a good while now, as they did not find the courage to follow an over-energetic Noeleen into the final ascension of the mountain, and went back to the small lake instead.

So we reached the top alone, for a moment of silent communion with nature. Well, it would have been silent I guess, without the whooping sounds produced by an exalted girl, who jumped unceremoniously here and there, celebrating her victory over the mountain. Humility is not a virtue she’s developed, it seems. In an effort to give me the upper hand, so to speak, Noeleen had brandished my little body over her head, apparently mistaking me for a shaker, while shouting at the top her lungs “Yeah! You made it! You’re on top of the world! Yeehaaaww!”
I rearrange my internal organs the best I can and reboot my ears.
“Well, sweetie, this has been the case ever since I met you… of course.”

We sat looking at the vast and stunning panorama below, Noeleen on a smooth rock, and myself on her shoulder. Originally, I had tried to sit between Noeleen's legs, my back comfortably set against her crotch and her thighs protecting me from the wind, but she had pick me up with an annoyed look on her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked
"You have to stop being so careless with yourself, really. If I did the slightest wrong movement, fall asleep or anything, and my hips moved forward a couple of inches, you'd be mush under my butt. Do we really want that?"
I had to admit she got a point. I get so cozy around Noeleen at times, I forget she's also an enormous being that could squish me unware pretty easily. I make myself comfortable on her shoulder instead, her long brown hair, my billowing windshield.
Under me the big body was heaving and panting from the exertion, lifting and dropping the landscape in unison. I tried hard to get into contemplation mode, but Noeleen’s powerful jaws munching on a bar of chocolate bigger than me provided the wrong type of silence (not to mention her noisy finger licking). But hell, I got to dine on a crumb of chocolate too, and I figured a happy stomach was a proper path to enlightenment too. 

We’re an hour away from the camping now and my feet, tucked within Noeleen’s sport bra are positively swimming in her sweat.
“You sure you don’t want to take a break, princess?”
“Positively not : I’ve just thought of something I want to do to you as soon as we arrive.” She’s all smile again. Go figure.
“I see…errr…hurry up then, will you?”
A wink drops from above and a finger squashes me deep inside the bra. I am surrounded by  rosy flagrant domes. While I’m down there, I struggle hard to lift a bit the fabric from the soft globe on my right, in search of mysteries.
“Hu ho, I just spotted with my little eye something starting with an N” , I shout brightly, as I emerge again.
“Let’s see.  An apple?”
“Hey, nearly. You got the vowel wrong, though.”
“Look but don’t touch, my prince, I cannot come and go at the same time, you know.”
I ponder over this one for a moment. Damn, this outdoor trip is such a bright idea!

As we walk down in the forest now, we talk about my coming book. Noeleen is really enthusiastic about it. But I must say I have mixed feelings about this. I know it’s going to be a blockbuster. Everyone on Earth knows my name. I have gone from your average Joe in the sticks to household name status in a matter of days, once my story leaked out of the Science Institute. The damn thing is probably going to make us rich, too. I’m not comfortable with any of this. I have to consider that everything I write these days is probably going to be read by a lot of folks. And what do I have to write about if not my very life? I’ve tried to make a diary of the Shrinking, relating the events that took place during the early period. Hell, it was dramatic enough to provide material I guess. But it was hard work disguising most of the real events , to colour them with a tone that distanciated me and Noeleen from the narration. I never intended to publish our private life, we have enough trouble as it is. Yet, in spite of my efforts, Noeleen jotted a red line many times across my copies whenever she felt the tale was hitting too close to home. I never antagonized her on that. The latest version ends up being a fictional documentary inspired by my experience, remote enough to be harmless to us, I hope.
 
“Do you think Georges Clooney will play my part, in the movie? Or maybe, Johnny Depp?”
“ Naaaa, I think it’s gonna be Joe Pesci.”
“…….. Ok, in that case,  I’ll request Britney Spear to play yours.”
“Now, don’t be that cruel, buster, I’m 100% behind you on this, you know that.”
“Mmmm, Vin Diesel could work too, don’t you think?”
“For my part?!!!”
“No!! For mine, you dimwit! He could handle it, I guess, although he looks a bit frailer than me.”
“Oh Lord…..”
Her right hand comes up to her bra and pulls forward. The elastic ground under me suddenly disappears and with a yelp, I slide down the vertical wall of her abdomen, all the while trying to grab the fabric of the T-shirt in front of me. When I expect to stop at her hip, I see her panties being pulled away too, and I am swallowed by the darkness inside her shorts. The elastic band shuts above me with a definite clap. In my back, the soft hairs of her bush are sticking to my skin, while my face is pressed into the front of the sweaty panties. Just under me the huge working thighs are suddenly overwhelmingly present.
“I was just talking, you nincompoop!”
“ Well, Vin, this should be no problem to a man like you, I’m sure” comes a distant giggling voice far above.
And a few minutes later, a girl with a suspicious-looking bulge in her pants walks smiling into our camping site….

I like camping. Always did. Especially in places like this one, remote and isolated from amenities. No large families, no huge camping cars with their TV sets braying cheap ads and football matches. Just little tents, couples, friends and some loners, everyone in search of a piece of nature, away from the usual flotsam of modern life. I’m looking forward to a quiet evening around the fire. The Norwegian girls wave at us from their near-by tent, as we unpack and  lay our stuff in the sun. I really hope they did not advertise my presence to any one. But, seeing the indifference of our other neighbours, they obviously did not. Good.

I lay on our camping table, on a soft cushion Noeleen has set for me. I watch her walk away to the clear stream near-by to wash her top and socks. Looking like a queen even in the most mundane tasks, my girl. Her long legs are tanned, and smooth, and that pretty ass of hers, which rolls nicely in her gait hasn’t lost any appeal for the knowing. I realize also that I’m not the only bloke lost in the wonderment. Not far from us, two guys are making no secret in their interest in this rotund part of my girl. Hell, to them, she’s a lone girl, and I’m sure they can’t allow such a scandal to last. Soon enough, one of them, a big hulk of a guy, start walking to her, as she busies herself on the shore of the stream. I observe sullenly the conversation starting yonder. Noeleen is all smiles and chat, it seems. The guy is pointing at his tent. (I shall burn it later, I decide. Whether or not I allow him to survive will depend on my girl’s smile in the next seconds.)……….. OK. He’ll die. Noeleen has had this familiar gesture of setting her long brown hair around her right ear, a mimic she only does when flattered the right way. This guy is dead meat. I’ll beat his ankles blue.

The same old insecure feeling is back, the feeling I really don’t amount too much with my tiny stature and my 50 grams of hyper active self. The Californian surfer down there sure breathes more air than I do. Noeleen laughs at something he said, and disgusted, I go back to lurk on the two Norwegian girls, a better show if any. Vicky is washing her long blond hair in a plastic basin, wearing nothing but a flimsy bra and skimpy shorts. My, is she a sight to behold. Behind her, a busy Lana is preparing some meal, looking lovely as ever. I can see her glance in our direction. She says something to Vicky, who glances towards me too. I wave, although I think I’m too far for them to see me clearly. But somehow I feel I have evened the score with Noeleen for a few minutes. I’m caught in a sudden vice of flesh and lifted high in the air.

“They sure are pretty, aren’t they?” says a frowning Noeleen.
“Toads, Noeleen. Toads. Ugly warts and all. That what’s they are.” I answer sincerely, as I gaze at the beautiful face.
“Yeah, well, you better cool it, spermface, or I will have you for a snack before too long.”  A large tongue wriggles straight in front of my face, revealing behind a deep, deep throat.
 “So, what’s with Mr Hulk?” I answer casually, un-phased by this culinary prospect.
“Oh, him, he thinks I’m very pretty” says the fiend with a re assuring smile. “I’m invited later to have a night cap with his buddies. Isn’t it swell? Do I have your permission, my prince?”
“ We’ll have to sit at the negotiation table a bit longer, I’m afraid, your highness”.
“Hey, I know where that is!” She answers, already lunging inside the tent, and dropping me on the sleeping bag.

I find myself between the two huge knees, while above her gigantic body is covering my sky. Noeleen’s head scrapes against the top of the tent, as she struggles to remove her t-shirt. I watch the expense of her vast abdomen, a supple and tantalizing cliff of flesh, as it contorts right and left. Mountains have nothing on her, she’s a landscape worth admiring. I watch her trying to unhook her bra, while she smiles down on me with a definitive wanton look in her yes.
“Hold on, Mr Negotiator, I’m bringing my bargaining chips on the table.”
Her two breasts explode in my field of vision, large and heavy, two new moons in my synthetic sky, bobbing madly.
“”Errr…I need to inspect your offer more closely, if you want us to start compromising my position”, I say with a gulp.
“Sure, that can be….”

The mobile rings. We look at one another for a second. On the fourth ring, Noeleen leans forwards to grab it, but with such a deep motion, her left breast comes hovering an inch from my face.

“Oh shit…... Oh no…..You’re shitting me. ….Dammit!”
These are bad news coming in, I can tell from Noeleen’s  distraught face.
“Ok. I’ll see what I can do. Talk to you later.”
I look up to her face as she sets the phone back in its holder.
“Well, I think I need to go back home for a short while…”
It turns out the playhouse has been badly burnt. Something to do with a light falling from a ramp and various repercussions. Noeleen is expected back home asap for insurance procedures. Damn. Damn.
“Listen, she says, no need to interrupt everything”. (I glance expectantly at the naked chest bobbing high above, so single-minded I am, at times). “
“Come on, let’s go and see our new friends” she adds, already covering the promised treasures. I sigh.

Noeleen is waving at me from the car (as usual she misses the first gear and stalls. Nothing to worry about). I wave back from Vicky’s palm. It has been agreed the girls would take me in their custody for the night, and keep an eye on our things, while Noeleen checks out the damage and sorts out her business in town. She will be back around noon tomorrow. I still wave when the car has disappeared beyond the turn. Above me, two blond girls glance at one another and look down on me, smiles showing an abundance of perfect white teeth.

…………………………………………………………………………

I am pretty pissed off at the turn of events, with Noeleen gone,  but all in all we spend a nice evening together, the girls and I. I stay on their table and they sit on opposite sides, so that talking to me isn’t looking particularly suspicious to other campers. Lana has prepared a nice meal and we tuck in happily. I answer their questions the best I can about the Shrinking. ( Truth is, I’m so used to it, I feel like a museum guide reciting his stuff, at times). There is much slurping of noodles, and I enjoy the interesting shapes their lips take in the process.
The only incident is the visit our my good mate, Hulk himself, who comes checking on the girls, some beer bottles in lieu of chat-up line. Lana and Vicky look at him with a bright smile on their glowing faces. Without saying a word, Lana comes close to Vicky and gives her the mother of all kisses, a surprise move which leaves Hulk and I somewhat gob-smacked, I must say. The man retreats after some confused words, and I can come out of hiding . Vicky winks at me, as Lana sits down again on her side of the table. “Works all the time”, she whispers to me, giggling.  I quite like these girls. Later, we check the sky for shooting stars.

They have a huge tent, so large to me it seems like a hangar for the Space Shuttle. Inside, the sleeping-bags are neatly arranged, the ground covered in insulating foam, and my little bedroom box has been kindly set between the two inflatable pillows. A hanging lamp is dripping its light from above. Vicky sets me on her sleeping  bag. That strikes me as odd, as I still have to go to the box and climb into it. Frankly, I don’t like to perform this in public, as it really makes me feel like a stupid guinea pig. When Lana walks in, the space inside gets suddenly awfully cramped, and the vision of these two girls above me, these massive legs moving around, the commotion it brings into the mattresses, the shuffle around of the huge bodies really makes me feel like the mouse I am. Vicky is kneeling above me, and is already removing her top. I’m about to say something, like “Shouldn’t we wait till the light is off?” but already behind me Lana is sliding her shorts along the impressive length of her sumptuous legs. I feel compelled to start retreating towards the box, as various garments start landing around me. Damn, these Nordic girls are everything but shy, I think to myself, just as Vicky’s breasts come out of hiding. She smiles at me, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I smile back and pull myself together before I look like a salt statue with a drool.

I turn round just in time to see a stark naked Lana entering her sleeping bag, her body sleek and tone perfect, high supple breasts winking at me. There’s also no doubt now that both girls are real blondes (a fact I was aware of already since the visit of the pond). I start climbing up the side of the box, in the hope the effort will lower the sudden flag of my disposition….
 I am preparing my tiny bed, trying to be oblivious to the shuffling around me, when a vast naked butt comes hovering above for a second. It’s Vicky’s, who is crouching near me, preparing her alarm clock (I think). I’m glad she did not fall back, that would have been a heavy encounter. Her face appears soon above me and lifting the mosquito net, she lands a wet and humongous kiss on my face, “Good night!”
“Errr, good night, girls! Wet… I mean sweet dreams!” I hear myself say, surprised I’m able to articulate words at this stage.
The mosquito net is lifted by two large fingers again, and this time it’s Lana’s face which appears, and a second before her lips cover me, an avalanche of blond hair has already taken possession of my bedroom. When the light is killed at last, I stare at the moonlit ceiling, my primal senses in a severe state of turmoil. 

One hour later I still haven’t gone to sleep. Fresh Mountain Air, hey? I hear some heavy shuffling of synthetic fabric on my right. In the moonlit chamber, a sudden shadow passes over me, startling me. It’s Lana, who is leaning out of her sleeping bag and planting a kiss on Vicky’s lips. Ow, cute. A minute later, the kiss is still on going, and I’m wide awake. Looks like the men-deterrent trick wasn’t an act after all. Lana’s body is now entirely out of the sleeping bag now and I can see her long shape clearly highlighted in the tent, a pale and immense arch over my little box. Some serious slurping noises start coming from where their lips must be. Oh, boy. I pretend to be asleep of course. Let’s give them some privacy, it won’t last long, I’m sure. I’m wrong too. Vicky’s arms come into view, as they enlace the supple shape of her lover. Whispered words are exchanged in the foreign language.

All lights are turning red on my monitors when I see Vicky struggling out of her sleeping bag now, under the straddling and impressive form of her lover. It’s an all out debate now. Lying in my little bed, stiff as a wooden stick (in all senses of term), I hardly breathe at all. Lana is just now leaning forward to kiss Vicky’s right breast, and a subtle moan rises in the tent. Ok, keep cool, I think, you’re suppose to be asleep. The left breast gives the same result it seems. I feel like a small mammal from the times of yore, witnessing the coupling of ( very pretty, admittedly) dinosaurs. Ah stop it now!! Please! (Lana is licking Vicky’s navel now, who is arching her back in quiet bliss).

A sudden pause occurs. I dare look out again, nano-pervert on his preying grounds. Two vast faces are turned in my direction, their traits well defined in the strong moonlight. Four Scandinavian eyes are staring at me. I start retreating towards my bed, ashamed of my being discovered, and preparing all kinds of excuses in my head. Whispered words again, un-translated. A long arm detaches itself from the great sculpture of flesh and moves in my direction, deploying a crane of fingers that comes right on top of me. What’s up, now.

Two long fingers delicately press against my hips, and take me out of the box.
“Err, ladies….”
I find myself hovering over Vicky’s naked chest, while Lana’s body dominates me. The pillow below me is totally covered in golden strands of hair. Lana brings me to her face and a long finger comes to a vertical stop in front of her lips. “Hush……” A large smile follows. I do what I’m told. A sudden drop and I find myself on all fours on the soft pliant surface of Vicky’s right breast. In front of me a large face is gazing at me with an encouraging smile it seems, and she winks at me. I’m a bit at a loss here. I feel the breathing of the girl lifting and dropping my soft platform, feel the heat coming from under my feet,( but also from above, where a horizontal and curvy mountain is mirroring my immediate surroundings. I should not do that. It’s just not the deal, I’m sorry. The image of a smirking Noeleen blowing up those blond heads with a shot gun fleetingly traverses my mind. They are playing with fire, these two.

I must have looked like the dummy I am, ‘cos the next second two long fingers grab me and start gently pushing my body against an already hardened nipple. I protest formally for half a second, but what can you do. The nipple is bumping into my torso, firm and unyielding. On the left, a vast head has lowered down to the twin promontory and a delicate tongue is taking care of its lubrication. When it is my turn to visit it, my body gets covered with the slick saliva left by Lana. After a minute, I’m left panting between the vast breasts, while a gigantesque kiss is taking place above. I’m lost in the shadows between the great bodies.

Lana seems to be the one with the initiative here. She says something in Norwegian to Vicky, who starts opening a very toothy mouth. I find myself dangling upside down above it, not overly surprised. Lana is inserting me very slowly into her lover’s mouth, where a mint scented tongue is greeting me and licking me even before entry. I finally press my hands and torso onto the wet grainy surface, as it retracts deeper inside. In front of me all is dark, but it does get darker still, when Vicky’s lips close upon my hips. For a few seconds, the world turns hot and smelly and liquid. I feel at times mighty teeth grating against my skin. I shout at my captor to let me go now, and surprise, she does. I see the vast mouth diminish below me, but as I am lifted higher and higher, I witness the arrival of another mouth that opens wide and greets me in its depths. Lana’s mouth is more gentle , stroking my body  for a while, before a sudden sucking bout makes my ears pop violently. “Ouch!”. It becomes quickly obvious I am being mistaken for a lollipop for a few more seconds. Hell, this is great.

When I come out at last from this mouth, the body looming above me is no longer Lana’s. They must have switched places during the wet interval and the belly I land on is a place I haven’t visited yet. The soft ground is heaving under a deep undercurrent of pleasure. And I’m panting myself in perfect accordance, I must say. The vast canopy above me is coming quickly over me. And before I can shout a word, Vicky‘s belly is smothering me into Lana’s. The pressure mounts quickly as she lets her weight sandwich me between them, as she’s probably busy kissing Lana. The heat is intense, I cannot move at all. From above and below gurgling sounds resonate from inner depths hardly imaginable. I’m lost in biology for a few long minutes, except for some seconds of reprieve, where air is allowed to circulate between the great expanses of flesh. I am nothing but a tiny thing engulfed in the mammoth love making., and I can only hope they won’t forget about me, stuck between them.

The ceiling of flesh recedes suddenly from me, a cool breeze passing over my drenched body. I watch an enormous chest passing over me, like a vast cloud, as Vicky’s neck and jaw come closer, while she kisses lower and lower on Lana’s body. When she gets over me, she murmurs something I do not understand and her lips cover my entire body. She’s heading south by the look of it. Recovering from the smooching, I sit upon the belly, my feet inside a great navel. In front of me, Vicky face is coming level with me as it dips lower beyond the blond Venus mons. The two high hills of Lana’s thighs frame her lover’s face in their rosy embrace. I gulp hard when I watch Vicky’s lips press against Lana’s sex in a hungry open mouth kiss, her own eyes glassy with desire. The belly I sit on suddenly jerks high and nearly send me flying. Behind me, Lana’s breasts are rising high above while she arches back. The movement makes me slide down to the blond tuft of pubic hair, right under Vicky’s nose. Speaking of nose, a definite aroma pervades the air around me now, and a greedy smile rises just in front of me. As I recover my composure on the soft duvet, I begin to think this is all fun and all but is going a bit too far. I’m not an easy boy, goddammit. Kissing is ok, especially kissing those two beauties. But I don’t like the turn this is taking. We should have talked about it first, like civilised people. (“What a bloody hypocrite you are, really” whispers an inner voice)
“Listen Vicky, let’s call it a day,  I can’t be part of this. Hey, do you hear? Lana, can you guys stop now?!”
A few words of Norwegian are exchanged between the girls. Before I can do anything (like what, really?) fingers grab me again and this time it’s my turn to be acquainted with a fully burgeoning clitoris, that won’t discuss anything with me but its imperious needs. Vicky is rubbing me against it expertly, keeping her eyes locked into Lana’s. I feel very instrumental in the connection those two girls are having right now. After a flew sliding and exploring moments against the wet folds of Lana’s sex , I am covered in sexual juices and the girls are really turning up the heat.

I should enjoy this I guess, but things are getting more confused by the minute. Under me I think it is Lana’s mouth that pushes its tongue on my back. So it must be Vicky’s sex that comes looming above me, the labia dripping over us. This is the 69 of death, and I’m done for. I am pushed against it now, feeling elated but scared also as the vast body is now fully poised over me. Lana’s tongue is pressing me harder and harder against the complex ceiling of flesh and at times the terrible weight of Vicky’s body is reminding me I could well be hurt between the joyful girls.
 I am getting a tour of someone’s inner thigh, leaving a trail of juice behind me, as I fight the pressure fingers are exerting on my body. The other thigh is requesting my attention it seems, too.
A great re-shuffling is happening, mountainous bodies rotate all around me, the air in the tent is hot and moist from the combined breathing. I have a fleeting thought of concern for our direct neighbours, who must not lose a minute of the happy upheaval nearby. Then again, they might be doing the same thing, everyone high on the rarefied air, at this altitude.

I start sliding on a long slope of blond hair , between two raised shoulder blades, towards the twin hills of a naked tremulous ass, which is shaking with ecstasy below me. When I reach its edge, tumbling down madly , I land on the soft sleeping bag.. As I turn round on my back the large sex attached to this prodigious ass is lowering itself onto me and proceeds in rubbing me to oblivion. This is all pretty intense, even for a stud like me.

And then it happens of course, long fingers start pushing me inside a dark hot wet cavern, the moist flesh slowly opening to the contact of my head, sliding against my body, as my hands try to find purchase on the inner folds. It’s like trying to hold on to gelatinous and viscous coils, and I cannot prevent the entry in any way; Whose vagina it is I have no idea. I just know it is hungry for my presence and the sexy game has turned into something more serious, demoting my friendly self to the rank of dildo for these crazed lesbian chicks. I should have seen it coming. Or maybe I did, maybe I was hoping for it, as the whole bargain was struck between us earlier during the day. Noeleen is going to have me for breakfast, that’s for sure. Meanwhile I just have to make sure I come out of this fleshy tomb in one piece. My struggle is fuelling the inner motions of the cavern, my ears are full of squelching sounds and I try to keep mouth shut in the midst of all the oozing spurts. Above me, a vast body is reaching a momentous climax. When I try retreating back up, I am greeted by a muscular obstacle. It’s wet and grainy and pushes me backwards. Damn, I am being tongued back into the depths of the vagina. I pummel the ungrateful tongue with my tiny fists, but it only retreats for a stronger comeback. Everything around is alive with palpitations.

Great vibrations start around me, the walls hardening suddenly to rock solidity. I brace myself. More earthquake-like waves traverse my little liquid world for a minute or two, before I sense the opening is once more accessible. I crawl out of this relaxing pussy, a sight for sore eyes, I’m sure.
A few seconds later, the orifice that greets me is not half as friendly, as I am being squeezed through a muscular ring, into a foul smelling tube of flesh. This is fucking insane. I struggle desperately for a few seconds, before being mercifully drawn out, a great laughter rocking the tent. I swear and shout and spit, but I don’t get to voice a coherent protest, as two vast breasts already position themselves on either side of me and I disappear in their soft embrace. I scramble up, my head emerging from the squeeze. Above me the long necks are close by and I watch from beneath the languorous kiss between the girls.

I shout at them to desist, stopping just short of begging, really, as I am truly exhausted. There’s only so much sex I can handle. One of them reclines on the sleeping bag (pretty wet, the sleeping bag, I must say) and sets me on her belly. She says something to me I do not understand, stroking my back, and smiling reassuringly at me. Damn, I even get a chance to recover proper breathing. Hey, that was fun. I start walking towards the smiling face, trying to decide whether I will shout abuse or take it lightly with a killer joke. Which ever way, I need to get the last word on this. But I seem to forget something somehow. I am grabbed from behind and gently dragged all the way down, across the soft belly, brushing against the blond bush and before I can say any profundity, I am being gently inserted me deep into another vagina. The folds are already slick with lubricating juices and is opening to swallow me like a hungry mouth. As I touch the end of the fleshy tunnel with my outreaching hands, a great shudder occurs and the entrance folds close behind me with a definite slurping noise, more juices starting to flow from everywhere around. Yeah, I have forgotten something all right. It takes two to tango… and three to make it more fun.

A few minutes later, after a last tour of the girls’ anatomy (they like to stroke each other after love, and I’m invited to do the same and that means a lot of surface…), I get to breathe again, lying between the two lovers, level with their hips, in a great canyon of flesh. Everyone is caught in a serious post-orgasmic bliss.

“Thank you!”, she says, as she lands a kiss on my wet heaving body and sets me back in the box. Vicky has a radiant look on her moonlit face.
“Thank you”, comes the second set of voice and accompanying lips.
I’m blinking stupidly for a second. “You’re welcome” I managed to say. Powerful last words. Well done, man.
The night swallows us all at last.

…………………………………………………………………………….

The morning finds us all refreshed and happy.
I have spent quite some time reviewing the action from yesternight and I can’t believe I made it through alive. Yet again, I came so often during this colossal intercourse, and derived sqo much excitement from it, that I can’t be fully ungrateful for the experience, no matter how unwilling I was, or confused I feel about it all now. The girls are incredibly cool and natural about it, asking me if I enjoyed myself, what part I preferred, are surprised  I didn’t quite favour the anal bit,  ask me if I have done this before (I have actually, but I do not say it), and if I’d like to try again before Noeleen comes back. I kindly refuse. To them sex is just as free as a good bath. They do not seem to worry about any moral implication. (I actually feel necessary to ask them to keep a lid on it, as I suspect they’d be only delighted to narrate everything to my better half, in great details, even asking her to join in later, unwittingly curtailing their life span by a great number of years.) Hell, this is fine by me, as it helps me unclog my conscience regarding Noeleen and our couple. It shouldn’t take too long to classify this one under the “secret best left alone” file. Or so I hope.

We spend the morning getting a tan and drinking herbal tea. It occurs to me Zen is not too far away, after all.

When Noeleen comes back, looking far less distraught than I expected (the fire was in fact a minor incident), we all share a nice bio meal the girls have prepared, while Noeleen feeds us a superb lemon pie she has picked up on the way in the village down the valley.
The girls later leave the camp site for other adventures, after much kissing and exchange of address and mail (Do I really want to see them again, I really don’t know). Noeleen is soooo grateful to them for the great care they have taken of me, that makes me feel a bit queasy. Oh come, great forgetfulness, come.

Their car had just gone beyond the turn that a sullen voice comes from above.
“So, they took good care of you, did they?”
Gulp.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, they really did, Noeleen, thank you for asking.”
“I guess you did not miss me too much then.”
“Princess, every minute that passed by was tearing a hole in my soul… How does that sound?”
“That will do fine actually, thank you!” answers a beaming Noeleen. She’s a good audience.
We go for a stroll along the little stream near the camping site and I get to travel cleavage again, a favourite of mine. The Universe unfolds at my whim, I think, at times.

“Now that you’ve ruined my plans for the autumn show, how do you intend to compensate me?” asks Noeleen.
“ What? What do you mean?”
“You were right,  the play I had in mind is shite. But I do need an alternative now…. How about you write it for me?”
That takes me aback. Hell, that’s an idea, now. “Hey, now that you mention it, I could probably try. Do you trust me for it, though?”
“I do. I really do. You have four months; the repair on the playhouse is pushing everything back.”
“Deal, but I’m free to choose the topic of course.”
“I don’t know why, that sounds like a scary thought, but OK it’s a deal!” laughs Noeleen.

We walk on for a moment.
 “Oh, and there’s something else”, she adds suddenly.
“What?” I ask somewhat apprehensively (I knew there was a catch, dammit, I knew it!)
“Remember I told you yesterday I had thought of something I wanted to do to you?” says the smiling fiend.
“Err… oh yeah, that’s right. What about it?”
Ten minutes later, in the intimacy of our closed tent, she tells me all about it…