So I was sitting at home watching Tiger King – I know. And I’m also late to every party. So sue me! And my phone buzzed.

I fished it out of the couch cushions. The screen said Kyle; Hanna’s husband. Immediately I thought: something must be wrong. Hanna and I chat all the time, Kyle and I not so much. And since he shrunk, not at all. What do you say to a guy who’s recently shrunk down to a couple inches tall?

But I picked up. “Kyle? Is everything OK?”

“Sharon,” he said, talking fast. “Who is Hanna seeing?”

“Um, Kyle, I don’t even know what you’re –” I began, but he cut me off.

“I know she’s seeing someone. I’m there now! Listen, I’m almost out of battery!”

Something in his tone told me this was not a fishing expedition. He knew. “It’s John,” I said. “But listen, she –”

He cut me off again. “Sharon, please! You listen.” And he proceeded to tell me a truly insane story, of how he suspected his wife of cheating, and stowed away in her panties, and then – WHAT?! I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“You’re WHERE?” I choked. But the line went dead.

I sat back, Tiger King forgotten. Kyle was in trouble, and he’d reached out to me to help. I had to do something. I thought fast. And then I came up with a plan. It was pretty good, I thought, cracking just the hint of a smile.

So I crashed into action. Sweatpants, tee shirt, fuzzy socks – off. Lacy bra, matching panties, little black dress, stockings to just about – there – and black heels – on. God, I felt like a superhero, quick-changing into my alter ego.

Fifteen minutes later, I was looking in the hall mirror as I applied my lipstick. I’m not the most confident woman when it comes to my looks, but I thought I might be able to pull this off. And Kyle was counting on me.

I called John; thank heavens I still had his number from last summer’s barbecue. He sounded confused as he picked up. “Sharon?”

“John,” I said, letting my voice catch. “Hanna just texted me and she says she left something at your place earlier tonight. She asked me if I’d come and get it.”

“Hanna?” John sounded scared now. “I don’t think that we – I – ”

“It’s OK,” I soothed. “I know what’s been going on. Hanna told me.” And then, going for sultry: “We share EVERYTHING.”

That did it. “Sure, sure, come on over!” He didn’t even ask what it was she’d left there.

Another 15 minutes and I was ringing John’s doorbell. He came to the door in exactly the amount of time that a man would if he was waiting for you but didn’t want to seem like he was waiting for you. Was it going to be this easy?

“John! Hi!” I gave him a big hug. I couldn’t help but think: Down at crotch level, that’s where Kyle is right now, lost in John’s cock, and waiting for me to save him. Supergirl to the rescue!

“Come on in,” he said smoothly, having had time to compose himself after my original call. “Can I get you a drink?”

“That would be lovely,” I cooed. “Can you bring it to the living room?”

“Uh, sure,” he replied.

I headed there, sat on the sofa and carefully arranged my legs. I took a pair of glasses out of the top of my stocking and put them on the table. John returned with two tall glasses of red wine.

“Ooh, thank you!” I said, taking a long sip. “And here’s Hanna’s glasses!”

“I didn’t know she -”

“She needs them for reading,” I said quickly. “She’s kind of self-conscious about it.”

John nodded, and sat down. There was a moment’s silence, and I decided to fill it.

“So, you know how I said Hanna and I share everything?” I giggled. “I was wondering if maybe we might add something to that list.” I stared at him pointedly.

John was instantly interested. Men, I thought.

I kicked off my heels, and started peeling back my dress. “Can I ... see what’s got Hanna so worked up?” John nodded dumbly, and I shimmied over to him and started undoing belt, zipper, pants. He had a huge bulge already, and I was pretty astonished by the size of it when I got it out. I started stroking it gently. He reached for my breasts and began fondling me. Both of our breaths quickened. He started kissing me. And then he pulled back and stared at me hard: “I need you to go down on me,” he said.

Now, normally I’m not one for oral. That may surprise some readers who didn’t think creatures like me existed, but there it is. Eating me out is a different matter, mind you – you can stay there all day, honey!

But I was on a mission, and this was important. I slithered down John’s chest and took his massive cock between my lips, and began to work it up and down, gyrating ever so slightly, and growing more excited in spite of myself. I mean, I said I wasn’t into oral, but sometimes the moment takes you. This was one of those times.

Faster and faster we moved, John’s moans growing in intensity, his cock bucking and throbbing inside my mouth. And then, with a final shout, he came – hard. I felt his cum filling my mouth, and something else as well. I fought back the urge to swallow, and looked up at him. His head was back, and he was lost in post-coital bliss. I only had a few seconds. I spat into my hand – and there was Kyle, wriggling and alive, thank heavens. But what to do with him? I hadn’t brought a purse. I had no pockets. There was really only one option. I reached my hand into my panties, and pushed Kyle into my pussy. From one set of genitals to another, I thought. At least I know he’s there.

John finally looked down at me, and smiled blearily. “My god, that was fantastic!” he breathed.

“It certainly was!” I said. “You’re – well, you’re huge!” I laughed.

I don’t remember much of the rest of my time there. I finished my wine, recomposed my dress, and we chatted about Hanna. I may have suggested we try something together, the three of us. But I kept thinking that I had her husband in my pussy. I had to get him home. As soon as I could manage it, I begged off, barely remembering to grab “Hanna’s” glasses on my way out. Then I was in the car and headed for her place.

Kyle was inside me. What a crazy thought! I have to admit, I’d been curious about this shrinking situation ever since I’d heard of it. Hanna had said their sex life was a problem – hence John – but I’d found myself wondering: What would a tiny lover even feel like?

Turns out: Pretty good. He was moving around in there, trying to get out maybe, or trying to communicate, I don’t know, but it felt GOOD! I felt my muscles stirring in response, squeezing him inside me. And then, heaven help me, I pulled off the road into a parking lot and just let go. I was horny as hell, and wet from my time with John, but I hadn’t had any release there, and this was too much. A tiny little man – my friend’s husband! – was trapped in my pussy, squirming, and I was in complete control of him – and – and –

Well, by the time I was back on the road again Kyle wasn’t moving as much, but clearly I hadn’t crushed him in my passion. And so I drove up to his place and fished him out, setting him on the dashboard. What to say?

“Thank- thank-you,” the tiny man stuttered, clearly awestruck by his evening. “My pleasure,” I replied primly, and then guffawed. Yes, it had indeed been my pleasure! “Can I, um, walk you to the door?”

Kyle said he would try to get back inside on his own – he didn’t want Hanna to know he’d even been out, if he could manage it. And so I set him on the ground next to my car and watched his tiny form approach the house. My pussy was still tingling from having him inside me.

“Supergirl,” I said out loud. “Looks like you just had a fling with Antman!”