Ivy struck the keyboard idly. Her bikini hung on the closet door a few feet away, dripping onto the towel that lay underneath. It had been sitting there for an hour or more, but she had long since lost track of time, instead solely immersed in her own thoughts. Even the screen, bright back-lighting glaring on her face consumed little of her focus. She had returned to a newly discovered website, offering sexual and fantastical images of a recent preoccupation.

Her mind wandered back to the beach. When she had arrived, Sam and Ivy were already in the water. She stood with Zeke, hair still mopped over his face, looking out to the water. He had taken her hand, a romantic gesture of encouragement, as he dragged her out to the waiting surf. The waves weren't particularly intense, an easy playground for the beginner swimmer. Zeke towed her to the ocean side, explaining the absolute basics of strokes. Hand raised, he demonstrated the pulling motion that would allow her to propel herself forwards along the surface. Ivy remember it vividly, the combination of fear at a new and potentially embarrassing experience, mingling with her distracted psyche. Even as he stood in front of her, clad only in a knee length pair of green swim trunks, she imagined him standing there at ankle height. She could carry him out to the water, a massive ferry for a miniature being, him tangled in her hair, holding tightly as she waded, tossing gentle splashes of salty brine over her head and spraying him. Zeke would hold onto the lengthy strands, wrapping them into a harness that kept him safe from a drastic fall into unforgiving waters. Ivy wanted to take him along as she relaxed into incomprehensibly long strides, brushing aside entire lakes with each step. The power of a giantess to dominate her surroundings, protecting the tiny male that was her burden and her joy. And when she returned from the water to the air, she would have to conceal him, protect him from prying eyes. He would have to go somewhere inconspicuous, and she would have little to offer. But Ivy knew this as the most enjoyable part of any little adventure. After all, when it came to hiding her miniaturized man, any choice meant his body crammed tightly against her creamy flesh. Into the folds that lined her breasts, or nuzzled against her awaiting vagina, it would be her decision to make. And he would stay there, pleasuring her as she willed, or being inserted if it took her fancy...

She snapped back to the present. Her screen had faded to black, and she waved her index along the track pad to return. The screen reopened before her, and her eyes scanned hungrily. With anticipation, she let the pointer rest on a minimized image, tagged as 'Underwater Giantess', and double clicked.

The image blew up across her screen. Ivy melted. The image depicted a large woman, full breasts resting along the surface of the water. The buoys of flesh held two towering nipples that jutted from the front, detailed on the tan patch of areolas. A single hand was held up against them, palm splayed out and pressed into her left breast, enhancing the sensations of the scene below. Her head was thrown back into a laugh, water drizzling from her shoulder length blonde hair onto the waters surface, rippling around her in all directions. It set the scene so perfectly, yet her eyes only held above the water's edge so long. For beneath, she was similarly nubile and exposed, her long legs reaching all the way to the sandy floor below. And held in her right hand, clutched between fingers that surrounded his entirety, was a young man. Her fingers had expertly worked his shorts down to his ankles, and they were beginning to drift from the tips of his toes, rendering him moments from nakedness, his small cock crooked upwards by the buoyancy of the water that encased him. Ivy let her hand drift from the keyboard, sneaking underneath her laptop and prying forwards the elastic fold of her panties. They were dry, a welcome change from the itchy damp of her discarded bikini bottoms. Not that she intended for them to stay as such. Her middle finger drove past a thin stubble of pubic hairs, the grit rubbing against the length of it, until the tip reached her vulva. It was already wet, she knew, and the viscous texture of her fluid confirmed it. She took some of her own lubricant, and smudged it along her labia, working the moisture in to facilitate her increasing pace.

Then Ivy closed her eyes. It was always her favorite part. In her mind's eye, her image was reflected, thrown back in ecstasy, her bikini floating along the surface. Zeke was clenched between her fingers, cheeks inflated as he held his breath, bathing suit subtly absent. Deep below the surface, his tiny body approached her vulva, slowly casting off thin strands of mucusy delight as it flittered in the undersea current. Ivy brought him close, mashing his face into the thin bands of bright pink flesh, his hair rubbing against her own, smearing him with her anticipation. Then she plunged. Her body remained very afloat, but his would disappear, swiftly immersed in the lengthy vault of her womanhood until he was gone entirely. Ivy cooed softly into the darkness of her chilled room. The shiver extended to her toes, accentuating the deep-seeded ice within her, the result of her afternoon swim. Her fingertips now rested just inside her vulva, imitating Zeke's vanishing act within her sex. Ivy let the base of her knuckles rub against her clitoris. Like twisting the faucet of her nether, her body reacted in kind, a floodgate of pleasure accompanying a more literal flow. The gargantuan Ivy ejected a luxuriously thick jet of creamy delights as Zeke was immersed. Fingers that dwarfed his body patted lightly against the flap that sealed him within. He was a cream filled pastry, mashed within her, a succulent taste for a ravenous vagina. His thin bulge was all but gone, yet she knew he was in there, struggling furiously, fighting against the walls that saved him from inhaling cold salt water yet gave no chance for him to catch a breath. His face, his chest, his legs, all previously moistened from being held deep to the water's surface were now layered with the very same viscosity that dribbled steadily from the pursed opening just below. Ivy thrust her fingers in to the second knuckle. From her position, it was the maximum length she could invest, and Zeke was carried along, then forced into the recess of her fornix. His body wrapped around her cervix, and it wobbled, battering against him like a plushy chandelier. The walls were not lit for him, yet she could picture him in crystal display, lodged deep in her pelvis, pulsing as her walls closed in against him, plastering their yielding length against his skin, rubbing along him and extracting whatever pleasure they could from his obtrusive form. Her fingers worked zealously now, entirely focused on the bead of her clitoris. As she circled, the image grew brighter, perfectly clear, expanding until it filled the entire theater behind her shut eyelids. It burst, and so did she. As ragged breaths were drawn in vain, the form of a slimy encrusted man was spewed into the pitch blackness from the lips of a satisfied goddess.