***Ta Da***

"Ta-da!" 

Jane looked triumphantly at Quinn, a cute little expectant smile etched on her face. A strand of brunette had fallen from her magician's hat, and she kept her eyes locked on him and she tried to blow it out of the way, unsuccessfully. The trick had been clumsy, over the top, and ham-handed (a funny expression, considering how thin and willowy Jane was), but it had amused Quinn none the less, if not out of principle- a simple card trick that was predictable as it was clumsy, and he had seen her palm the card even from his own vantage point. His girlfriend had been practicing such things, parlour tricks and prestidigitation and the like, ever since she went back home to Baton Rouge for fall break- Quinn had lent her a copy of American Gods (whose protagonist did coin tricks), and it had apparently stuck. 

"Well," she said, petulantly, the edge of anticipation lining her voice, "what did you think? Was it good?"

Quinn nodded his head and pursed his thin lips together, not quite, she noted, looking her in the eye. 

"It was," he lilted, "something else, that's for sure. It was definitely, well, technically a trick."

The look she gave him could've soured milk, if not for the hinting smile beneath it. She had screwed her face up and twisted her mouth in the most delightful of ways, he saw, and the whole process of her getting upset with him was, if not a safe or within reasonable error, kind of fun. He was a teaser, he knew, and she knew that as well, had admitted it on several occasions. She had deduced it on their first date to the bell tower that early spring evening, when the flowers had just begun to bloom and the air around them was more pollen than anything else. They had written, as if in defiance to the modern age of conveniences, correspondences on paper and pen over the summer instead of email (except that one time they had met up in Birmingham), and Quinn knew it was going somewhere when she had started placing perfume on her letters (which she of course wore the next time they physically met). 

She tapped her toes, wrapped in their black and lacy stocking, loudly as she might on the bedroom carpet- one of her tells that she was playfully upset with him. 

"Yesss," she drolled, "and I worked very hard on it." 

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact." She bit her lip. "I spent all of the weekend working on that trick- my roommate, God bless her, knows it inside and out." She pulled off her tophat, a long and tall and black silken thing that looked like found at a novelty joke shop for effect, and looked at him, squinting her little hazel eyes at him. A teasing, if not knowing, smile passed Jane's lips. Quinn was unsure if he should be enthralled or slightly worried.

"Well," she began again, the annoyance seemingly gone and replaced by something else more quiet and more confident, "I suppose I'll just have to bring out the big guns and really wow you."

"You certainly wowed me with that last, er, trick."

"I," Jane said, walking over to Quinn with her feet rasping on the soft carpet, reaching over to toss the hat on his head, "will straight up smack you, big guy. I totally will." The hat settled on top of the mat that was Quinn's blonde locks.

"I believe it."

"Totally." 

"Totes."

"Tooooooootes magoates. Tooooootes..." She pulled a startlingly black handkerchief out of her pocket, and it caught Quinn's attention. She cupped her fist, closing it around her false thumb that stuck in betrayal out from the top of her fist, and she stuffed the blackest cloth he'd ever seen into it. He noted, with delight, that it was not all black- on one side, sure, black as the first sin in god's creation, but the cloth flashed a nebula of prismatic colors as she pressed desperately to hide it in the false fetish. 

"Maaaaaaaaaaaa..."

She finished and held her hands out, as if to show that no cloth remained and wiggling her fingers to attempt the illusion that he left thumb was not intact so much bigger than the other, trying to distract him with her auditory drone. Quinn smiled- Jane was getting better at misdirection. She then pulled the cloth out again, flipping it and spinning it in front of her, catching it dexterously between two hands and pulling it taut, the near vandablack side facing him. Then, with practiced panache, Jane pushed one hand into the cloth, and scaring the piss out of him, felt a tap on his head.

"Goats!"

Quinn jumped in his chair, yanking the top hat off of him. He shot Jane a sharp look of disbelief. 

"What the hell?"

He glanced into the hat, peering into the inky blackness. It was almost as dark as the cloth Jane held, who wore wicked and self-satisfied smile when he looked back up at her.

"How in the..." He bit his lip and peered at her through slatted eyelids. "How did you do that."

Jane reached up and pulled a lock of her long and wavy brunette down and twirled it coquettishly. She twisted her toes down on the soft carpet, making the soft rustling noise permeate the silence, giggling to put the cherry on top.

"Well," she drew out, a tone that Quinn knew to be both unnervingly endearing and unhelpful, "I suppose I COULD tell you..." 

Quinn looked back at the silk hat, then back at the black cloth. It had to do something with that.

"But," she continued in that singsong of hers, "a magician's gotta have some secrets, y'know. Lance Burton or that... Simon Copperfield fella never gave away their secrets."

He squinted his eyes at his girlfriend, predictably unsatisfied with such evasive argument. There was something. A mechanism in the hat, controlled by a button in the cloth? Colorful cloth would make it distracting, easy to hide a remote. But then, he thought, re-examining the hat, it would be heavier. 

Unable to make a good theory, Quinn set the hat slowly back on top of his head, making sure to note any thing, any movement that happened as he did so. Any off kilter or off balance motion.

He sighed deeply and glared at her once again. 

"Do it again, please."

Jane smiled a mile wide, twirling the cloth around and hopping from one foot on to the other. 

"Ha haaaaa, I've entranced you!" She affected a Parisian accent, the kind only an American might. "Hon hon hon, Monsieur, you vish to see more of zee magic oui oui? No no? Hon hon hon... Oui, ouiiiiiiii, you vish for Madame Le, uh, Mysterioooooo to reveal her seecreet, nooooo? Maybe if I do zis, vous can see how Monsieur Brady gave zee dicking to Atlanta on zee second half, hon hon hon-"

"Not funny, Jane- i lost two hund-"

"Silence, leetle man!"

Jane brought the cloth out again, and twirled it garishly above her. It seemed to... Get bigger, somehow. 

"I shall once again give monsieur sore loser a wee taste, no? Honhonhonhon"

 She brought it in front of her and again made the exact same motions- Quinn watched it like a hawk, paid closer attention to any feeling on his head. He watched as Jane flipped and snapped the cloth, feeling the faint air current ripple through the room and onto his face, though he tried his damnedest to keep his eyes closed. He watched her stick, part of the cloth in her teeth and in her hand to keep it steady, and then with her free mitt, wiggle her fingers down, down, down into the cloth...

...only to feel a sudden scratching on top of his hair.

"Okay, dude... Let's..."

He yanked the hat off again, peering inside to see something, anything, that would explain what just happened. Sure, it was one thing to poke him on the head- a machine could do that. But tussling his hair? That complex of a motion? 

"Jane, you gotta tell me. How."

She rolled her eyes, barely hiding the toothy grin she kept inside her mouth. 

"Oh calm yourself, it's okay." She whipped the cloth again above her and let it drift slowly down before her. "Here, maybe this will calm you down. Do you like birds?"

Jane placed her hand below the falling cloth, which then rested on her thin wrist. Quinn looked from her to the hat, where from materialized a very lithe, very thin, and very familiar upturned fist, the single middle digit skyrocketing into the air. The first thing he thought was 'well that's rude,' followed by...

He threw the hat away, and shot up out of his chair, shaking his head. He made Jane jump and startle but laugh, her rosy cheeks inflating with jovial delight. 

Quinn realized that he was saying something, and felt his mouth move, but it took him a second realize just what he was saying.

"What the freak David Copperfield Blaine Blair witch gypsy Roma bob Ross bob sagat Diablo Mongolian monk horseshit fuckshit is that, what the fuck, Jane"

She was practically rolling on the floor and sucking air when she tried to calm him down, putting her lithe hand out and over to him, trying to get words out.

"Ha ha, Quinn, calm down... Ha ha ha..."

She walked over and picked the hat up, casual as can be, and set it on top of her head once again, completing the outfit of stockings, silk shorts, and white tie dinner jacket. She wore a serene smile on her lips, as if she didn't just bend time and space. 

Quinn shook his head, defiantly, a quick motion that said a whole lot in a short amount of time. 

"No, no, no way, Jane... You just stuck a hand into that cloth and it came out of the hat. I am a hundred percent sure that it was yours."

"Yes," she nodded helpfully, casting her eyes up and seeming to think about it, "it would certainly be discomforting if it wasn't... Weren't? Weren't my hand."

"How."

She sighed and shook her head again.

"I told you, big guy, a magician never reveals..."

"Jane. Please."

She huffed once and set her hands to her hips, her smile turning from one teasing to almost flabbergasted. She shook her head, making her hair bounce all around her shoulders and beneath the hat. 

"So impatient..."

She pulled the cloth in front of her and held it up, showing him both sides of it. To confirm his suspicion, one side was indeed blacker than gallows humor and the other as kaleidoscopic and prismatic as they could be. The design was decidedly beautiful.

"This is half of the trick," she announced, turning it again and again. "It goes with this hat."

Setting the cloth partway in her pocket, she pulled off her top hat again and flipped it around, showing him all sides and inside of hat- still inky black. 

"My Oma gave me these when I went home over the break."

"Wait... Your Oma?"

Her lips curled into a tight curve, a smile. 

"Yes, the very same. My dad's side is Greek Roma, remember?"

He nodded, flushing his checks slightly. 

"Oh. Then, that comment I made about gypsy magic..."

She came over and rested a hand on his cheek. She shook her head.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that. But it's okay, I'm not mad. Well," she bobbed her head side to side, "not too mad. You can buy me some peanut butter cups tonight after dinner."

"Dinner?"

She nodded enthusiastically. 

"Uh huh! You feel so bad about what you said, you decide to treat me to some Chinese food too, instead of that frozen pizza you have sitting out on the counter."

He chuckled, despite himself. 

"Oh. Huh. What a good boyfriend I am."

Jane pulled away and twirled the hat on her finger. 

"The very best. Anyway,"

She presented the hat and cloth to him again. 

"This... This really is gypsy magic, actually."

He raised an eye brow. 

"Uh huh."

"No, it is- really! See, watch..."

Jane had sauntered over to the table, where his laptop computer lay. On the side, next to a half-eaten snickers candy bar was a can of coke that was unopened- your average and expensive and nutritionally void college student lunch. She fiddled with the cloth, and then tossed the starry and colorful side of the bit on top of the can. She then walked back over to Quinn, still twirling her hat on her finger.

"I put the cloth over that can of coke, right?"

Quinn nodded. She then handed her hat over to him, which he took hesitantly. 

"Go ahead and take a look. Make sure im not hiding a can of coke in there. Y'know, along with a fist and fingers that look exactly like mine."

He scrunched his nose up at her jab, but then inspected the hat anyway. All sides, the felt round bit, the soft sides. The white silk back just above the brim, which stuck out a good and wide two inches. Inside, conspicuously devoid of any maker's mark or tag. Tentatively, wry cautiously, he put his hand inside of the hat, to the tune of Jane's lilting giggle. He felt around, dragging slowly a finger through all the sides and the very top of the hat. 

The whole hat seemed just that... A hat. Satisfied, he gave her back the hat with pursed lips, feeling like he was missing... Well, something. He just had no ideas as to what. 

She took the hat from him, and I'm her typically playful flourish, she held it, hole up, in front of her and waved her hand over it, all mystical-like. With a wiggle, both fingers and her hips, she reached into the hat, deep in, further than her hand should have gone. There was a noise at the table, and Quinn glanced over. The cloth which covered re can had fallen down, and lay flat on the table, the snickers bar just half covered. He heard the unmistakable sound of a can opening, and looked back to see Jane bring the can to her lips, smirking as she drank and not taking her eyes off of him. 

"Whoa."

"Mmhmm," she agreed, wiping the dribble of coke that splashed down her chin, "you're not in the matrix anymore, Neo."

"But how?"

"I told you," she lilted, "gypsy magic. My Oma gave it to me, as she told me my great great grandpa used to perform with it. He could literally pull rabbits out of his hat!"

She shook his head, his hand at his chin and mouth open. 

"That's crazy. I can't believe it."

"You literally just saw it."

"No, no, I mean... That really happened. Magic. Is that really the coke on my desk, though?"

Jane huffed and tossed him the hat, and retrieved gracefully the cloth that was on his desk. She held it between teeth and spare hand, and winked at him.

"See for yourself."

She pushed the can of coke into the starry side of the cloth, and to Quinn's amazement, her arm, coke in tow, came through. The hand beckoned at him, and he saw the faint imprint from the red lip gloss she used still on the rim of the can. He took a sip. 

"Holy shit."

She pulled the come back out and grinned at him.

"Yuh huh! Pretty cool, right? My Oma told me that my grandpa used to keep the hat next to his chair in the living room and the cloth inside a stash of beer in the fridge."

"Y'know, I was actually thinking..."

"Ha. You men are all the same! Beer, boobs, and... Uh, bussy."

Quinn laughed at that, taking the can and watching as Jane's hand fell through the hat again.

"Well. Biological imperatives and all."

She furrowed her brow at him, contorting her mouth adorably to one side. 

"Doesn't give you the right to be basic..."

"Truuuue, but you're the same- you've grabbed all sorts of my parts. Bros, butts and..." He smirked. "Beenis."

She nodded in agreement, playful frustrated.

"In fact," he began, "put that cloth on your chest."

When she realized what he was asking, she rolled her eyes but seemed to be atwitter by the suggestion, and the way she delicately laid the cloth on her not-so-famished cleavage suggested the same. 

He grinned evilly, and then wiggled his fingers in pantomime of her, then said, 

"Hocus pocus, you're the best, watch me pull out of this hat a brea-"

His words stopped short as he felt his hand collide with the soft fabric of the hat. It moved forward, his hand unable to transport somehow to where the cloth was deposited.

"It... Doesn't... Feeeeel squishy..."

"That's because, you dolt," she teased, pulling the cloth up, "it won't work for you... You're not an exotic, sexy, lovely Roma goddess like me!"

Despite the frustration, he chuckled and set the hat back on his head. 

"Well, certainly not a goddess. That whole... Bait and tackle thing."

She laughed, a deep throated and full melodious sound. 

"Mmhmm... Speaking of..." She walked over and pulled him by the arm, pulling him over to the bed, pushing him down to his back and leaning over him. She traced a finger around his face and down his neck, chest, and stomach. Her curly little smile and squinting eyes hinting, quite playfully, at the real magic to come. She pulled back up, her hands pulling down on his stomach and thighs and then finally resting on his crotch, kneading and pressing down on his half-tumescent penis already whetted by the flirtatious teasing. She  began to undo his belt and zipper, pulling up his shirt and kissing him on the stomach. He reached down and lovingly caressed her shoulder and tussled her hair, guilty payment for such sudden wonders. 

By the time she had pulled off his shoes and jeans, she had stood up and pulled the cloth out. She waved it  and teased it in front of him, then finally set it down over his junk and pulled the hat off. 

"Something tells me..." He began, to which she finished, 

"That you're gonna like this? Yes, I would agree with that..."

Jane put her hand in the hat and, true to the magic, she began to knead and stroke his erection and testicles. She grinned and bit her lip, blushed like a southern rose, as she worked his balls. Her hand worked its way up the hot and stiffened flesh, the nerve endings in his head and shaft ringing so loudly it drowned out everything else. He looked up at her, to see that she wasn't even looking at his junk but at him smiling that little satisfied smile of hers. He smiled back, bit his lip as she twisted her hand, and found himself very happy on a lot of levels. 

Then, almost cruelly, she stopped, only leaning over to give his tip a playful kiss.

She giggled as he moaned, and instead pulled the cloth away from the erection. 

"Was that good?"

He shot her a frustrated glance. 

"Why did we stop? And yes!"

She grinned, setting the hat down on his erection.

"That's good..." She pulled the cloth up and began, unless his eyes deceived him, to stretch and stretch it, until it was nearly three times the size of its original dimension. She set this on the ground, kneeled, and looked at him. "Because we've only just begun!"

The notion hit Quinn, and instead of falling into the obvious pleasure that was about time afforded him, he lifted the hat and peered in. What he saw made him... Well, gasp. 

He saw a tiny effigy of Jane, alive and moving her arms about, stare back at him from inside the hat! She was leaning on the side of the hat, blow him a literally tiny kiss from inside and grinning like mad. 

"Jane!"

He looked over to the cloth and saw her chest deep... Submerged? Yes, submerged into the cloth. She pulled herself up and laughed.

"How... How in the hell?!"

"I told you, you silly goose! Gypsy magic."

"But you were so tiny!"

She smirked at him and set her hands on her hips- bobbing her head back and forth. 

"Kinda cool, isn't it? I about freaked when I learned I could do that. I made myself so small, I slept in my shoe that night!"

Quinn shook his head, still trying his damnedest to take everything in. 

"Your shoe?"

She nodded, leaning back over and lolling expectantly down at the blanket. 

"The new Vans I got, so they were still soft and not smelly. So are we going to do this or are you just gonna let the bus leave without dropping off the passengers?"

"Oh," replied Quinn, as if that made the whole thing okay. "I guess."

Jane frowned, pulling back up and setting her hands on hips once more. 

"You don't sound too enthused... I suppose I should try and change your tune in that..."

Jane reached over and motioned him to look into the hat again, then leaned forward and dipped herself into the blanket once again. Quinn hesitantly looked into the hat, and saw her pressing her boobs into one another, biting her lip and whistling at him.

"Let me at 'em," she squeaked, her voice sounding far off but not quite distant, "let me at that giggle stick of yours, big boy!" 

With a wry smile, Quinn placed the hat back onto his halfrect penis and felt tiny digits strike against it, tiny kisses caress it. It was certainly a novel sensation, and one he'd never thought he'd ever feel or see in his life, but to be jerked and sucked off by his girlfriend, now one half of her comparatively the size of an action figure? He shuddered a bit, even as he felt her agile tongue work its way across the head. 

"...Jane?"

No answer. 

"Jane!"

Still no answer. He took the hat off and peered into it. She seemed surprised and looked at him not without a little frustration. He apologized for interrupting her, but made a motion for her to come up out of the hat. She huffed at him, and came up, keeping that adorable little pout when she pulled herself out of the blanket. 

"Yes?" She asked expectantly, petulantly. The look she had was not dissimilar to the one he might have worn when she first stopped her handjob. "What's wrong?"

He grinned sheepishly, and to be honest he was not exactly sure why he would ever say something like this, but he said

"It just... Feels weird. You were, like... Tiny... You know?"

She was silent for a few seconds but then nodded and smiled serenely at him. She seemed to cock her head over and look him up and down, and then back into the blanket. 

"Kind of a novel sensation, right?"

"A bit..."

"Uh huh."

She looked down at her lap and then blushed at him. 

"Would you... Um. Well, I know it's not kind of normal, I guess but... Would you be willing to... Maybe... Go opposite?"

Quinn squinted at her.

"How do you mean?"

She sighed, biting her lip raggedly. 

"well... Give me the hat."

He did so, and she came over and sat on the bed next to him, giving his penis a little tug when she saw it was starting to droop. He laughed, and then half-laughed half-chuckled when he saw Jane pull off her stockings, her pink and lacy Victoria's Secret panties flashing at him. 

Once her stockings were on the side and out of the way, she stuck her pointed foot into the hat, and caused her five little toes to pop out of the blanket, all cute and short and chubby.

"Oh man, I need a pedicure..."

Quinn laughed and stood up, his hands going to his aides and landing on his hips.

"Wow. Janezilla. Are you gonna squish me?"

She he him a look, a smirk that all at once belied adoration and frustration. She wiggles her toes and looked at them. 

"if you don't go over there and do something about it, I just might."

Quinn went over to the giant foot, reaching out with both hands and taking hold of the big toe that was the size of his head. He marveled at the idea of it, the truth that this woman's toe was in his hand, and it was enlarged. He could see the tiny ridges of her skin's imprint up close, enlarged to the naked eye. As she rubbed his hand over the digit, it twitched and Jane had giggled over to his side. He thought about how surreal it was to touch her enlarged foot here and see her laughing, this comparatively tiny girl, all the way yonder. 

He patted the tips of her toes, and rubbed his erection across them like passing a stick along picket fence. She flexed her toes as he did so, her hand reaching down and brushing herself through her lace panties. She bit her lips and moaned, a little smile curling her lips.

Sensing it was a positive thing for him to do, he leaned over and kissed each of her toes, each of them twitching and responding to the lightest of his touches. 

She giggled and looked him up and down.

"Put your hips forward," she commanded, biting her thumb and flexing her toes. He did so, thrusting his crotch out, sticking his cock out. She shifted her foot down, and grabbed the little rod between her index and pointer toes. He gasped when she did.

She worked up and down like that, stroking his sensitive skin up and down, making him shudder with delight. Soon enough, once his pre-ejaculate had oozed out onto her blue toenails (her favorite color, though they were half-chipped away thanks to her penchant for open-toed sandals), she released him much to his playful but very frustration. 

"Jaaaane."

"I know, I know!" She consoled, pulling her foot out and looking down at it. She watched as the pregame jizz drizzled down her foot and onto the carpet. Once done, she stood up and sauntered over to where the cloth was. 

"I'll finish you soon... I just want to try something." 

She pulled up the cloth and flipped it over, the black side facing her. She turned over to her boyfriend and gave a wild smile. 

"I'm gonna wrap this... Yeah."

She did so, leaning over and wrapping the bit over him tightly. He found that the cloth held fast in place, despite his experimental efforts to tug it off. 

"Another one of those Roma things," she shrugged off. 

Once firmly round him, Jane alighted back to the hat she left on the bed, snatching up the headwear with glee. 

"You know," she droned, in a rather matter-of-factly tone, "most guys like handjobs because they think it makes their junk look bigger."

"I'm fairly sure that's not true."

"Shaddup. I'm tryin' to be sexy here..."

She brought the hat up and blew into it... Making him twitch. The wind, seemingly amplified by the sudden size change, blew past him and up his chest, pushing his hair up.

He smiled at her and just saw her hand enter the hat. Despite seeing this, it still surprised him when he felt four and a thumb wrap around his waist, the inside crook of her thumb resting on his erection. He laughed, possibly out of nervousness, but relaxed when she started to rub him. She stood back up off the bed, and walked towards him, still twisting and circling her thumb around his cock and balls, stroking the shaft and twiddling it. She came over and kissed him full in the lips, pressing her tongue into his mouth and behind his cheek. She continued to move her hand up and down and around, pulling and tugging and pressing his  legs and body and penis and testicles. His body was being, in a literal sense, stroked off by an enormous hand. 

She stroked, he kissed, and then...

It happened. He came, spraying his hot spunk onto her fingers and knuckles. She giggled as his did, and as his brain came back together from its liquified state, she pulled out her hand from the hat and placed it back on her head.

He sat down on the chair that was next to his computer, and sighed, a soul-releasing sigh that one got after only the most tantric of activities. He opened a solitary eye over at her and smiled. He saw her just in time lick the semen from off of her hand, sucking it down her throat with abandon. She blushed when she saw him watching her.

"Don't look at me like that!" He laughed, coming over to sit on his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and smecked him on the forehead, hugging him close.

"Semen is potential people..."

"Hush."

"So I guess eating semen is potential cannibalism, right?"

"Hushhhh."

He laughed when he hushed her back, and smacked her ass when she got up. She giggled and flittered around, then, spinning on the ball of her foot (the very one she had gigantified), turned to look at him.

"Stand up, you." A forceful command. He complied, ambling up to his feet and trying to not fall over on account of that load, er, mind-blowing orgasm. 

"Yes, Madame?"

She came over and wrapped her arms around his waist, never quite unlocking her eyes off of him. He felt her slender hands undo the magic that held the cloth fast. She shook it off of him, and he shuddered delightfully when he felt the cold breeze lick his shaft and eggs, shrinking them down further.

"I've got one more trick for you. Okay, two, I suppose. Are you ready?"

Quinn nodded, and Jane looked him up and down once more. She began to stretch and pull and yank at the cloth, expanding it even further and more, it growing bigger and bigger. What could she have in mind?

"First, a disappearing act!" 

She tossed the cloth over his head, stars filling his vision. He only realized what was happening as she fell into the cloth and into a freefall, screaming and putting his arms out to catch himself. 

He landed, shortly, on a very soft and fragrant cushion of silky ropes- a smell that was quite familiar to him- as he tried to push himself up, he could not. His arms and legs tangled in the taut cords, and he found himself panicking. He shot straight up, however, when he hear a purr rumble throughout his entire. The ground shook as the purr morphed into a laugh, and he soon realized that it was coming from below, and then, like dawn, it all fell into place.

The silk hat flew off of Jane's head and onto the unkept bed, exposing Quinn to the harsh lights of his own room. The view was breathtaking- all of the familiarity and surroundings that seemed so familiar, but all of the scales of it were completely changed. It was huge! Enormous! Gigantic!

And, he realized, most of all...

Jane's hand rose up from the horizon of her head and wrapped itself around his body, the hand curling around him into a fist. He felt the sudden vertigo of movement take hold of his stomach, but soon the ride was over and the finger cage opened and before him was the billboard, Olympic-sized face of his girlfriend. Her eyes flashed at him and she grinned wider than anything he'd ever seen. He looked around, and saw that he was only the size of her thumb, and the rest of her fingers towered over him. 

"Well well," she said to herself, a over coming up to rest between her teeth, "you didn't quite disappear. But I guess... Well," she smiled, "I'm working on that."

Quinn breathed once. Twice. Then smiled.

"I'm not sleeping in your shoe."

She laughed, throwing her head back and gave a full throated. She looked back down at him and licked her lips, Quinn hoped, voluntarily. 

"Oh no, little Quinn. You'll be sleeping close to me tonight. But it's not quite time for bed yet, because I've still got one more magic trick for you."

Quinn cocked his eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She sighed, contentedly. "You know how magicians are always pulling rabbits out of there hat? Well, I thought it would be interesting," Jane said, reaching down to pull her panties off, "if maybe we could reverse that- but instead of a rabbit, it'd be you. And instead of a hat..." 

Jane walked over to the bed and held him to her lips, smooching him deeply and the looking him with her prodigious orbs. 

"Well," Jane continued, lowering Quinn down down down to her crotch, "you get the idea."