With the current state of his house guest, Chris really didn't need the phone call he was having right now. "Yes. Yes. I understand Mr. Hatfield." The truth was he was having trouble at work before he'd taken his vacation. He half expected to come back to a severance check. As his boss raged on, he wondered how his career had even lasted this long. Almost ten years ago he had parlayed his it-crowd party attitude into a marketing career. In these recent years, however, he was beginning to wonder if he was getting too old for the game. His latest gig at Pink Ice Vodka was a longshot, and one that wasn't working out. 

"Look, I've got something huge planned, and it's going to happen soon. Real soon. You'll be pleased." He held the phone away from his head as his boss barked something loudly. Chris looked around his living room, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this mess. He didn't need to hear his boss drill into him about unreasonable expense accounts and lack of results for him to understand his predicament. When the phone went silent he was glad to have been hung up on. Chris sat with his head in his hands for a moment just to calm himself.

When he looked up, he couldn't help but have his spirits lifted a little. His girlfriend Suzanne was bikini-clad and standing in the the doorway. Still over seven-feet tall, she had one hand casually hanging from the door-frame as if to illustrate how low it seemed to her. Nothing would take his mind off his little work problem like chasing her into the bedroom. 

He almost did it too, but he had resolved to get her back to her normal size and her normal life. Having restraint wasn't easy. Not only had she not shown any signs of shrinking down in the last couple days, her attempts to rile him up and make herself even bigger were constant. At the moment he was thankful he'd been able to find an ill-fitting bikini to provide her at least some coverup. 

"What do you have planned, Chris? I could use something huge about now. Or even just something average-sized." He glared at her flirtation, his look reminding her to stop making this so difficult. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry." She relaxed her pose, making her way to the couch to sit next to him. "That call sounded serious, what's the problem?"

"It's nothing." Chris sat up as tall as possible, but she still towered over him. Looking far up into her eyes, her determined stare said his answer was not sufficient. He wasn't sure what was harder to resist, aggressive advances from across the room, or her mere proximity. Even now he was finding it impossible to ignore her massively oversize breasts, insufficiently covered and jutting towards him. He wanted to touch her, and it didn't help that he knew how much she would welcome it. Maybe he'd mis-judged himself. Maybe he didn't have this much restraint

When they decided to abstain and get her back to normal size, he'd considered leaving the apartment. He could have compelled her to stay here and out of sight, and a few days later she'd be back to normal size. It seemed wrong though, to leave her here alone, especially when he was the cause of all this. He thought he could certainly control himself for a couple days around her. Right now he was dangerously close to failing. He decided talking about his work problems might keep them from having sex. 

"I think I'm getting fired." Her face quickly shifted to shock. "It's okay. I'll be fine, I have enough put away, and I'll find another gig. It's just, I'm having more trouble delivering for these party brands. For almost a decade I've been making a killing partying it up and convincing young alcohol buyers that what I'm peddling is the new rage." Suzanne leaned back against the couch cushions, which he was thankful for, as it became easier to think straight. "I'm not exactly in my twenties anymore, and neither is my network. I've been doing everything I can think of to push Pink Ice Vodka, and the market is just not responding. Which is fine, it's really no big deal. It's just that this one is more than just a brand. It's going to be my reputation. I've made big promises to these folks, and I don't know if I can deliver." 

"So what do you have planned? Something huge? or just something average sized?" Chris glared at her continued references to sex, even if this one was just a joke. "Ha. Sorry. Seriously though, what do you have planned? Anything I can help with?" Chris was distracted again, but not for the same reason. Suddenly her bikini top didn't seem so overstuffed. Was she finally shrinking? He looked carefully at her chest, watching to see if he could notice a change. She waved a hand between the two of them. "Hey mixed signals, if you are going to stare at my tits like that, I'm going to gladly bring them out to play." 

"No no. I think it's happening. I think you're returning to normal." Suddenly both of their eyes were glued to her body. Not for the sex appeal, but looking for signs of change, and they got them. It happened much faster than he realized. One moment the fat-lady bikini was barely big enough to provide coverage, the next she was swimming in it. It almost looked like she was deflating and being swallowed up by the couch. Less than a minute later, she looked positively small, though he realized it was mostly an illusion because of how big she had been moments before. 

"Joy. That's a sexy look." There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice, as she looked positively silly in her now oversize swim-wear. "At least I can finally go to work now." She looked back at him, and he struggled to re-remember that this was her normal size. "So what do you have planned?"

Chris receded into himself and responded, "absolutely nothing."