"Speaking of fitting..." Joanne laughed, depositing her boy atop the long blubbery dip of her cleavage. Tommy's legs slid into the divot like quicksand, though it was still too tight of a space for his whole three-inch self to enter. Helpfully, his mom clutched her hefty assets, one saggy mass cupped in each hand, and spread the valley wider. Immediately her boy yelped and lurched another inch deeper into the jiggly trap, thanks to the lack of friction from his naked shape, then was frozen abruptly in place when Joanne released her grip and let her buoyant rack clap back around her son, so only his tiny head poked out the top of the crack, and the rest of him was fossilized in greasy cellulite. "Well, would you look at that. He's a perfect "fit" after all!"

            "You're quite a Cinderella!" Roberta joked, at which point both mothers shared a hearty laugh together, swiftly becoming friends, while their sons respectively wallowed in the clutches of hands and tits. Kyle was actually grateful when the therapist cheerfully called the couples' meeting to order, even knowing that the upcoming discussion of his life's bane would only lead to more horror. But for the moment, it was going to drive him crazy if he had to listen to his mom and Joanne deriving any more vocal entertainment from stripping their puny sons down and popping them into various crevices like human jewelry.

            The early rounds of the talks went much like the old group, only with the couples diving into their intimate relations more directly even than Kyle anticipated. All this airing of dirty laundry was sweetly coached along by the therapist, and encouraged with empathetic smiles from the other giant ladies present, which helped bring at least the female halves of the couples out of their shells. Kyle learned the thirty-something blonde, Betsy, was working on mending her relationship with her husband Bill, who'd agreed to be shrunken after he was caught cheating with three other women, as his own desperate bargain to avoid divorce and try rebuilding their marriage, until she could trust him with any responsibility for himself again. The little guy showed only teary remorse, seemingly rehearsed, while Kyle sensed that Betsy was really coming into her own as the top dog in their relationship. Meanwhile Olga the cat-lady wasn't married to her jump-suited shrinker Wayne, predictably, but had purchased the rights to "guardianship" of the little guy at a police auction, where after twenty years of major fraud, he'd avoided life in a cell by, ironically, choosing life in what Kyle knew to be a very different, and possibly worse, type of prison. Hearing Olga tell it, though, her little criminal was resisting his station by having the gall to turn down her last three marriage proposals.

            Then at last it came time for Roberta and Kyle to share, which of course meant the former got to have her say first, while the latter was couched on his mom's roomy thighs. The boy's pulse unhealthily hastened before she even opened her mouth.

            "Things are generally very good between my baby and I," Roberta said. "I'd simply hate myself if I led with whatever complaints I may have, when largely our relationship is better than it's ever been before. And Kyle deserves so much praise for all his understanding through these changes. Truly, I've grown closer to my boy than I ever dared dream I would again, since he spent most of his teenage years pushing me away. Now we're constantly finding new ways to connect, and bring one another happiness. It's marvelous, yet... well, the reason we're here is because we've been hitting some snags lately that I believe will only be corrected with the help of like-minded people."

            "Go on," the therapist murmured. "No one will judge you. Just tell us what's on your mind, Roberta."

            Every other woman present nodded in confirmation.

            "All right. Ours is... certainly not limited to an ordinary black-and-white parent-child relationship, if it ever was. My baby and I have "shared" ourselves in ways I honestly can't imagine doing with anyone else on Earth, all as a result of his poor choices and my desire to help him, with him at his proper size now. It was meant to be. And the closer we've become, the more fondly I've felt for Kyle in other more... intense ways. It's a different, better love that we've found for ourselves. We've "explored" that new love in more conventional marital ways, yes, but also deeper and more involved methods that, well pardon my language, really do it for me. I know he feels the same at his core. But now, just to come right out with it... since you all have been so welcoming... our sex life has been hitting a roadblock lately on Kyle's end. He's, well, gotten a case of stage fright, so to speak, asking for delays in our pleasure and taking much longer than usual to reach completion himself. I so badly want to help him overcome those obstacles, whatever may be causing them, and get us back on track. I only hope that's the right thing to do..."

            "Thank you for sharing, Roberta," the therapist said. "Openness is the first step to solutions in this room."

            "Darlin', not to jump to conclusions, but... I think it's really beautiful what you've built with your little boy, and you have nothing to justify to anyone," Joanne interjected. "You're a lovely couple. I don't think I'm stepping out of line to say that we all understand exactly where you're coming from, too."

            "Yes, you're both so precious," Betsy agreed, then with a sarcastic glance to her husband, added: "If everyone in a relationship cared that much about mending bridges, you'd see a couple in love on every street corner."

            "Taboo-shmaboo," Olga said with a wink. "Who wouldn't see things this way, given all ya been through together?"

            "I'm so glad you all understand," Roberta said, exhaling in relief and placing a hand over her heart. Notably, none of the shrinkers had spoken up, but it was plain to Kyle that his mother only cared for the opinions of the full-size humans in the room. "That's a huge weight off my shoulders. You have no idea."

            "Are you kiddin'? Roberta, first you give me a great tip before the session even starts, and now you're just opening my mind to the possibilities," Joanne said. Her husky voice was rife with inspiration. Openly sifting her cleavage like a sack of overgrown watermelons, she watched Tommy's head finally slip out of sight into the sweaty ravine of her bulbous chest, then reached in to pull him back up again. "Listen, I've been trying to find the way to make things click with poor Tommy here ever since that good-for-nothing skank-in-law ran off with his money and pride. The way we've been trying to make things work together up to now, we're still like a couple of puzzle pieces that don't quite fit, you know? But what Roberta and Kyle have... this is something I never considered until now. Maybe the answers have been right in front of us all along."

            Looking at her, Kyle could've sworn Joanne was perspiring more now than when they'd all entered the room. It took hardcore denial to reassure himself that she wasn't sweating in pearl-clutching rapture at Roberta's account, because that concept was just too sickening to handle.

            "If it was possible for us, I'm sure it's possible for you two," Roberta said with a smile. "Kyle and I started from such a difficult place, but we've come so far now. There's already so much love that I can see between the two of you, and we've all barely gotten acquainted."

            "Wow..." Joanne dreamily crooned. She kept on staring at the three-incher with his head sprouted up from between her slippery breast walls like a budding flower, her mind clearly awash with ideas now. "My boy deserves so much better than that lying low-down thief. And... Tommy, sweetie... I think it would be wrong of us to keep denying the goodness we'd find if only we followed the example of these nice people here. Don't you agree? There's so much more I can do for you, just like there's a lot I'm sure you'd have to offer your mama in return. After all, I'm as young and fit right now as I'm ever going to be in this life, and sure, maybe I'm not like those girls on magazine covers with all their hips and wrinkles erased, but they're all liars anyway, just like the woman who had the nerve to call herself your wife. It's not like you've got much say in the matter, anyway, dearie, since you're stuck like this... stuck with me... for the long haul, so why not make the most of it? You know, unlock our full potential? Let's face it, you've never been much of a decision-maker, Tommy, as anyone can see based on how you ended up before I took you back in... maybe it's time someone else made some decisions for you instead. For your own good."

            Throughout this substantial epiphany of Joanne's, as the words of wisdom rolled off her tongue, the rest of the ladies patiently waited, perhaps even a little inspired themselves, while every male present, Kyle most of all, only turned paler. Punctuating her declaration to Tommy, Joanne gave her breasts another slap from both sides that made them wobble like Jell-O molds, in turn vibrating the entrapped shrinker every which way, but still keeping him clamped in place.

            "By the way, I beg your pardon for going on and on while it's still your turn, Roberta," Joanne insisted, showing some real guilt for the first time, even after happily theorizing the benefits of turning her shrunken teen son into a lover. "I tend to get long-winded. Forgive me..."

            "Oh, there's NO need for apologies, believe me," Kyle's mom replied. Her fingers idly massaged her own boy's bare abdomen, coming dangerously close to groping below his non-existent belt. "I'm just so glad to have such supportive new friends, and so is Kyle."

            "I'd say we're all making wonderful progress," the therapist said, then refocused on the newest couple. "Roberta, I believe Kyle is suffering from the usual anxieties any new couple will have when finding their groove together, intimacy-wise, though perhaps to a slightly greater degree since he's still adjusting to his new size and your evolving relationship. Naturally, this is only a setback, and one that can be overcome, because there's so much love and devotion as the basis for your relationship, on both sides, as anyone can see."

            Kyle had no clue where the hell the therapist had gotten that impression, since it was literally impossible to keep the thousand-yard-stare off his traumatized face. Nobody objected to this assessment, though, and in fact all the ladies leaned forward with bated breath for more.

            "Exposure therapy is the answer, plain and simple," she continued. "However much you're becoming intimate as a couple right now, it's not enough yet, because Kyle still hasn't broken through that mental barrier, where he can allow himself to consciously enjoy it as well as unconsciously. But once it becomes a part of a constant routine, as necessary as eating, sleeping, and breathing, he'll soon get over his hang-ups."

            "We... make love nearly every day already," Roberta admitted, blushing like a schoolgirl.

            "That's certainly a good start, but to be straightforward with you, it's got to be not only every day, but multiple times daily. And not just the usual menu of activities, whatever those may be for you, but new positions, and especially foreplay. I find that exploring roleplays is a popular and highly effective method for couples."

            The group leader's soft silky voice hit Kyle like a ton of bricks, word by word. It terrified him so astutely, it almost felt like an out-of-body experience. Multiple dailies? New positions? Roleplay? Only fear-paralysis kept him from getting violently sick here and now.

            "That sounds perfect!" Roberta blurted. Giddy over the new possibilities laid before them, she began to tap her feet off the ground, in turn making Kyle quiver via the tremoring of her thick thighs, which he was in danger of slipping between. "Baby, isn't that a great idea? Oh, it makes so much sense now! Just think of it. We've been repeating a lot of the same positions recently... which, well, feel way too good to give up permanently, of course, but there are so many ways we haven't tried using you. Missionary, cowgirl, sixty-nining... granted, those will all take a little imagination, given how small you are, but it's all possible. I'd like to see what happens when we send you inside me backwards, or strap you in with my panties, or try leaving you "tucked" into my happy place for a long while first to let the anticipation build for both of us. Maybe we ought to try some new locations, too, like the kitchen table, or the bathtub, or the car..."