I bought the ticket like I had before. 3:30 show on Friday, something safe like the new Star Trek movie. Nobody would question it.
It had been over a year since I was given the device. I'd used it eighteen times. The longest stretch was over a week in the home of my next door neighbors. The shortest time was seventeen minutes with a young waitress whose shift ended far too soon. But each time was grand, and I felt more confident with each attempt.
Tonight's activation would last a few hours. Perhaps, if I found a suitable subject, a day or two.
I tossed the ticket stub in the garbage, and being careful to see I was not being watched, ducked into the theatre next to the one whose ticket I held. The late matinees of The Woman of Windsor would start in an hour. I'd have plenty of time to get myself hidden before the women started coming in droves.
* * *
Chick flicks were the perfect venue to find women to watch. Lots and lots of women. The first few times, I'd bought a ticket, taken my seat, and waited until the film was running to shrink. A single guy at a chick movie attracts attention, though, and I realized I was taking a chance of being noticed in the shrinking process. So I hit on my perfect plan--sneak into the theater early, hang out and wait.
I balanced myself on an armrest. This was a new position--I usually was on the floor, save for that one unfortunate time I'd been sitting on a seat--the sudden lessening of weight catapulted me into a bucket of popcorn, and I barely avoided death. I wanted to be up a little bit, to see the face of my target right away. Checking quickly for any ushers, I activated the device, and took the wallop it gave me.
Instantly, I was shrunk down to the size of dust. The narrow armrest was now dozens of feet wide. I sat down and went through my backpack, making sure I was ready. I checked my watch--about two hours until the first showing. Satisfied, I picked a book out of my backpack and started to read.
* * *
The Woman of Windsor was the story of a young woman in eighteenth century England, blah blah blah. It starred Meryl Streep, Sally Field, and all the other usual suspects. It was clearly the women's movie of the year.
The first people through the door were a beautiful woman and her moping significant other. Soon, others entered--women and men, groups of women, and women by themselves. It took a while before the theater began to fill up, and for a while, I was concerned that the seats on either side of me would stay empty. Finally, they appeared.
That they were enormous goes without saying. There was an immediate family resemblance--something about the faces that said instantly these were sisters. The older one was wearing jeans and a tight top that showed off her growing assets. Her blonde hair was cropped short, but styled in such a way that it was obvious she was a feminine woman. I assessed her age at somewhere between twenty and twenty-five. Her younger sister entered the aisle first. She wore her raven hair long, and wore a denim skirt and a halter top that left her flat, toned stomach on display. Her breasts were small, but firm. She appeared to be somewhere between a high school junior and a college sophomore.
As the youngster slid herself along, she passed in front of me, her spectacular, firm ass resting ever-so-briefly on the armrest, shaking my position significantly. She tarried but an instant before sitting down next to me. He sister sat down moments later, and placed a stadium-sized soda between me and the screen.
Well, I didn't care about the movie anyhow.
I tried to decide which one of these beauties to focus on. It wasn't easy. The older sister had grown almost completely to womanhood. She was almost unbearably sexy. But then there was the girlish face and figure of her sister, which was alluring as sin. I decided to let the girls decide for me. I can't say I was disappointed when little sister grabbed for the pop first.
I moved toward the edge of the armrest nearest my mark and looked up at her. She was lovely. I decided now was the time.
Leaping, I reached the material of her shirt. The size of her breasts were mammoth at my size. I was glad I'd chosen the older sister.
I climbed slowly up the side of her shirt as the lights dimmed. I was being careful, but more than once her arm pinned me firmly to the side of the shirt. Finally, I got to more level ground as I reached the top of her breasts.
I relaxed and settled in. feeling the woman's tits through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. I looked up at her face, gazing intently at the screen. Occasionally, she'd reach for a sip of her soda, but mostly, she just sat, hushed, looking at the weeper on the screen.
Carefully, I climbed up to the collar of the shirt. I had decided already that I wanted to feel those breasts without shirt interference. I carefully pulled myself up to the border of collar and girl, drinking in the fading scent of perfume and rising scent of woman. I slid along her skin and found myself back on top of the left breasts, weighted down by the shirt above me.
I slid along the skin, bathing in the feeling of her titflesh. Knowing that she was unaware of my existance just aded to my arousal. I moved slowly toward her bra, hoping I could find my way to her aereola.
Her heartbeat reverberated through her breast, and the ground rose and fell with each breath she took. Slowly, I pulled myself into the total darkness of her bra cup. It was a tight squeeze, but it didn't take long for me to reach my destination. Her nipple was soft, but grew slightly erect as I touched it with my foot. Lying down on top of it, I pulled out my cock and began to masturbate.
After completing my business, I rolled over and kissed her nipple, and found myself dozing off.
I awoke with a start as my world changed to motion. The woman was getting up--the movie was over. Dim light showed the outline of the edge of the bra cup. With each step, the breast swayed monstrously.
I wasn't overly concerned. I had taken the bus here, and I knew that being taken home was a possibility. Still, I wanted to control my destiny. You never know when the person you're with is, say, boarding a plane to another city (that one time with the stewardess was almost enough to get me fired for a no-show--although my return flight with the sorority sister going home for the weekend was worth it). Carefully, I used the rough bumps of the aereola to climb to the top of the breast.
When we finally stopped moving, I clambered up the breast toward the collar of the shirt. Reaching it, I pulled myself up so I could see the world around me.
We were in a restaurant. An enormous, two-football-field-tall menu told me that we were at Applebee's. Well, boring, midscale food is what you find in the mall I was at. Across the table sat sis, sipping on a Coke.
I pulled myself over the top of the collar. I would climb down the woman, to the seat of the booth if need be, to the floor if possible. Once they were gone, I'd try to get somewhere I could grow back. If I had to, I'd wait out closing time; I'd done it before.
The descent was slow, but I was patient. I was just below the table, hanging just below the height of the booth's table. I could see the killer legs of little sister in the shadow of the table. Damn, they were perfect. She uncrossed them, giving me a glimpse of her lacy pink panties before crossing them again.
I was distracted enough that I didn't hear the older sister mention she was going to the restroom. I didn't realize it until she was rising, her tummy scraping briefly against the booth.
I was nearly dislodged by the sudden jolt. As it was, I lost my grip with my right hand, and was struggling to hold on with my left hand as the woman strode purposefully to the bathroom. As she turned, my strength gave out and I went whizzing through the air, impacting on something soft.
I groaned. It was hard to get seriously hurt when you were this size--something about the process made it almost impossible to get squashed. But that didn't mean you didn't feel it. I slowly got to my feet, and wished I hadn't.
I'd landed on a bar stool at a satellite table. Immediately, I began to move to the edge of the stool. If someone came....
My luck ran out almost immediately. A titaness suddenly appeared, laughing with some firends. She was an Asian beauty wearing a short, almost invisible khaki skirt and a white blouse. Without a thought, she turned the stool and plopped down.
I ducked and covered. She couldn't have sat down any more perfectly for my purposes. One thigh came down inches from my left, one inches from my right. The sky was cut off by a pair of perfect, bare maize legs.
Daylight reappeared as she crossed left over right, giving me the opportunity to flee in the space under tons of girlflesh. I decided against it. This girl was hot, and I knew she didn't know I was here.
So I moved in toward her.
Before long, I'd come to the edge of the skirt. It was a short, easily climbable wall. As I pressed on, her smell became more intense. The going got tougher as I got closer to the Y of her legs and pussy. I was pushing my way through delicious girl, until suddenly, I found myself up against warm, damp white cotton panties.
They were of a relatively loose weave. I pulled myself through the first layer into the reinforced cotton crotch. Then, carefully, I pulled myself through the second and third layers, finally finding myself directy next to her vagina.
I carefully reached out and touched her pussylips, and a small earthquake was my response. She was a sensitive one. I pulled myself inside, and using her own lubrication, I jacked off again. I knew I was in no danger of impregnating her--my semen was decidedly the wrong size. As I moved around in the folds of her vagina, I felt more earthquakes. I wondered what she was thinking of her sudden arousal.
I started to move out of the area when we were moving. She stood up, clenching her vaginal walls tightly. I cursed, but knew I wasn't going anywhere for a little bit. Before too long, we were sitting again, then moving. Then we were getting wetter.
I heard some noises from outside, like scraping . Suddenly, the panities pushed back into the vagina. Something--a finger, maybe--was behind them. It wasn't too much longer before the panties came off, and a young man's face appeared.
Well, apparently I'd made the girl horny.
I moved as deep as I could, fearful that he meant to penetrate her. Fortunately, he was just showing her a good time. I could hear the slurping of his tongue above me as he licked her vaginal lips. The liquid around me rose quickly as he began to work her clit. When she finally came, it was with a rush of liquid that washed me clean out of the vaginal canal onto her sheets.
He pulled himself back up, and I watched her shift to return the favor. As she did, I quickly high-tailed it out of there. Taking advantage of the disheveled blankets, I climbed down to the floor of wherever I was.
It was quickly apparent that I was in a college dorm room. And from the relative cleanliness, it was the girl's dorm. I smiled to myself. I loved dorms.
* * *
I spent the rest of the night spying. Girls dorms have dozens of attractive women, doing all sorts of fun things. By the time the dorm was silent, and I was slipping out the front door and returning to normal size, I was worn out. I quickly identified the college and headed down to catch a bus. I didn't smell so great, but I doubted they'd notice. It was a fun night, just one of many. Well worth the four hundred dollars, I thought. I looked forward to doing it again.