“The game’s called Touch Me,” she says. Your wife sits up against the bed, her lingerie strapped nice and securely to her chest. “It’s….well, it’s pretty easy. Just follow along.”
“Okay,” you say, striding in the room behind her. You close the door and hear it click shut. “I’m a little creeped out, but okay.”
Her grin is saucy and mischievous. “Don’t worry so much, it’s pretty fun.”
“Whatever you say, dear.”
“More than you know,” she mutters under her breath, but you don’t question it. “Okay, come here. Don’t be shy.”
You walk closer, still a little unnerved.
“I don’t bite.” She laughed, throwing her hair over her shoulder. Then she adds, “Much.”
“You’re no fun,” she chides, but she’s still smiling so there must be something about this she finds amusing. “Fine, fine, let’s start. Touch me.”
You wait, and then you realize that wasn’t her saying the name of the game again, but a command. “What, like now?”
“No, next Tuesday.” She rolls her eyes and this time there is a semblance of annoyance. “Of course I mean now. Really, honey. I promise you’ll like what happens.”
Swallowing the sudden frog that gets lodged in your throat you reach out with one hand and hold her hand.
Her laugh is the thing of dreams. “Okay, either you’re really just this sweet, or you’re more worried about my game than you let on.”
You shrug, but don’t deny it. Her laughs send a small shudder through her, rippling in ways you know aren’t meant to be innocent. The strap of her bra seems to twang between her shoulder and boob more rapidly than you remember.
“Are your boobs…bigger?” you say, entirely without thinking.
“Not quite.” She cups one lace-covered boob and shakes it, tempting. “Why? Do you want them to be?”
You clamp a hand over your mouth, ready to apologize for insinuating you think they even should get bigger when you stop, seeing the mirthful shakes of her chest.
“Easy hun, I’m not mad.” She winks at you instead and, in a scene straight out of a bodice-ripper, she puts a finger to her lips, sucks on it, and then traces a line from the top of her cleavage down, a thin trail of spit drawing the eye. “You’ve never been subtle about it.”
Wow. Fuck. The way those tits moved…the ember in your gut turns hotter, warmer. You can feel yourself stir in your pants but make no move to acknowledge it.
“Touch me,” she says, softer but firmer than before.
This time you don’t shy away. You step in front of her and palm the outer fabric of one cup of her bra. You rub your thumb along the outside material, smooth as silk, but still easy to feel the warmth of her breasts. A small nub makes you pause, but running your thumb over it makes your wife gasp that sexy pleased gasp she loves.
She looks up at you, sensual and dark hunger clouding her eyes.
“Mmm, good boy,” she purrs. The words wrap around you, straightens your posture, and plants a promising kiss on the tip of your cock. “Finally getting into it then?”
She places a hand against your hips, pulling you closer. You are struck with the realization that she is the perfect altitude to suck you off, if only your pants weren’t still on.
But…wait….that’d never been the case before. Something feels strange, like your perspective is off by a point of reference it never knew it used.
The way she looks up at you wipes away all doubts you have.
She licks her lips, tongue escaping her petite mouth and tracing the upper and lower lips. You know, somehow, that even though she’d never managed before she could probably fit the whole head of your cock in her mouth now.
Your vision swim on the outside of your peripherals.
“Kiss me,” she utters. It comes out like a prayer but it rings like a command because there’s nothing you won’t do for her now.
She grabs you by the shirt, pulling you down, your struggle briefly at the sudden action but her lips taste like honey and there’s somehow so much to her mouth that it’s a fight not to throw yourself atop her and kiss her senseless.
“Touch me,” she says, in between kisses and rising for air. Her hands guide yours down from her shoulders where you’d been supporting yourself to her tits and though you briefly worry about pushing her down or hurting her, there’s so much your hands just sink in.
Her tits are definitely bigger. Somehow.
Your back hurts less than you expected from bending down so much and one brush of your thumbs against the material, brushing against her nipple-
“Fuck yes, baby,” she gasps, cupping your head. “Shrink for me.”
-sends an lust intoxicated message of Yes yes yes straight down the runway of brain to cock and it’s all you can do not to just fall into her.
You’re not bending down as much as you expected. Her mouth, her tits, her body….they just seem so big.
She breaks the kiss again, and you shake your head instinctively, looking to the side to establish orientation but her grip on your stays strong. Surprisingly strong.
She looks you in the eyes, punch drunk on lust, love, and something else, and you know it’s the same thing reflecting from your own.
“Touch me,” she says, pleads, begs. “Touch me, baby.”
Your hands travel from her tits to her hips. It’s a bizarre experience feeling them wider apart than you expected.
An arc, a zap of something passes between you two, and your wife gasps and you can see the absolute visible strain of her boobs against her lingerie. It’s then that you realize that you’re no longer bending down, but completely level with her, while standing.
Your mind feels like cotton as you process this idea. You recall the words she’d just said. Something…something about…
“Do you like them?” your wife says, pressing her tits together and groaning briefly. “Do you like how b-big they are, honey?”
Her tits seem to swell up and out at you. You go to grope one on instinct but her hands clamp down on both of yours, keeping you firmly entrenched, her legs on both sides and your hands on her hips. Which seemed to be making more and more of an impression in the mattress….
Your wife grunts, moves, and unclips her brassiere with one hand. Jiggalicious boobs fill your vision.
“Want to touch them?” she whispers. “Want to touch my big, big, boobies again, honey?”
At some point you’d removed your pants. Or maybe they’d just slid off. You are feeling awfully slim.
Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter because when she grabs your hard member all thoughts except for her jump into a volcano. She jerks you, once, and you can’t help the noise of helpless desire that leaves you.
The other hand cups one of her tits again, this time, as if offering it out to you. Her nipple is hard and appetizing and your mouth waters.
“Suck me.” It’s not a request. Her voice lowers into a loving coo. “Be a good boy, and suck my huge boobies, honey.”
Despite the phrasing, how much it turns you on, and the still prevailing questions, you pop her nipple into your mouth - what the fuck how were here tits level with your head - and suck.
She throws her head back and moans. “Fuuuuuck, yes, do it baby, fucking suck me. Suck my tits and- and-” the grip she has on your cock is absolute and you can’t help the buck and thrust of your hips into her hand. “Aww honey, you’re so fucking small.”
The word stops you momentarily, wrenching you from your bliss. Against every instinct, you release her nipple and gently push yourself away from her. You realize instantly the only reason you do is because she lets you.
“I’m so big,” she says, admiring her body. It’s true, she’s somehow become…more. More woman. More wife. More her. “You made me so big, baby.”
You are still painfully hard but that doesn’t stop you from gaping.
She stands above you. Well above you. Her previously large boobs, already well above average, hang from her her chest down to her navel, literally nothing but enormous fleshy pillows full of milk if the thin white stream leaking down her front and your gullet was any indication.
Her head brushes the top of the ceiling, a fucking eight foot tall ceiling and she’s sitting down, and her hips and thighs have overtaken the entirety of the bed. The front edge of it sink pitifully down, helpless to support such a large specimen of woman.
And you, you are…nothing. Well, not nothing. But you are half the size- no less, less than half your size. You can barely see over the edge of the already dangerously sinking mattress and the only reason you’d still been able to suck her tit, her nipple so big it almost took up your whole mouth, was because her tits were just that massive.
“H-How?” you croak, after taking it all in.
Your wife looks down at you and you are stunned with how much you want to just stop. Stop and forget and please her immensity.
She curls her finger at you in a ‘come hither’ gesture.
You step forward once more, servant to your body’s wants. Your hand reaches up…but fails to touch her immense tit.
Not to be stopped by this you rush close to the edge of the bed. You throw your hand up over the edge, scrabbling for purchase and skim across something wet, precious and perfect. A rolling maelstrom of sheer lust rolls down your wife’s body and there, encompassed by boob, leg and more woman than you ever dreamed of, you realize you’re never leaving.
She picks up, easily. She doesn’t bring you up to her face or anything so so mundane. She squats up, off the bed briefly, and then drops you in the same spot she’d been sitting in.
Ass like a mountain fills your vision before you are pinned with the weight of your wife, her body growing atop you and yours shrinking…shrinking….shrinking….
“Fuck,” she lets out, a susurrus of want and desire. “Kiss me.”
Her pussy is right atop you. It grinds against your body like a ride but you are unable to do anything about pushing her off. So, instead you do the only thing you can and pucker your lips, sloppily kissing every part of her your can, which isn’t much.
“Fuck. Yes. Good boy. Fuck.”
The words are all around you now. You don’t even know if it’s stopped, you just want to do more.
“Sh-shrink,” your wife says. Orders. “Shrink for - fuck - me, baby.”
You swallow and your heart skips a bit. More?
“Please,” she begs. “Shrink. Shrink. Shrink for me…”
Unbidden, your body begins to comply. Her ass cheeks grow huger and huger until suddenly you find yourself breathing easier and easier. The shape atop you, the sheer mass of pure sex and woman, grind and moans.
And then wetness touches your cheeks. Sweet, tantalizing, an ambrosia of dreams.
“Now,” she says, panting, “Fuck me, baby.”
You don’t even have to guess how, as she rises, squats over you, and then, angling herself just right, lowers her immense pussy over your tiny, diminutive body.
______________________________
A very fun game to play if I do so say myself.
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