The sinking feeling Pacho got as soon as Tloche straightened herself, lifting him dozens of feet into the air was only one of the many odd sensations he had in a space of a few seconds, all of them equally unexpected, exhilarating and terrifying: the sweltering, rosy-sweet smelling darkness that surrounded him, the tip of her enormous tongue bracing itself delicately on his face, tasting him and probing his features, the tip of his dick being rubbed by the soft hairs under her lower lip, the slight, wet suction of her cushion-like lips around his waist, holding him in place (and keeping him from falling to 20 meters to his death, and keeping his abdomen just away from the sharpish cusps of her lower incisors), the vibration he felt as she took a few steps with him on her mouth, his legs kicking free in the air outside, and the protracted growl-like moan that shook his bones, yet it was utterly feminine and maddeningly inviting.

After a very confusing set of ups and downs, twirls and experiencing a few gs which left him dizzy, she finally settled, and he felt his feet alight on soft, warm ground. Light again entered his world as she slid her tongue under him and opened her mouth. He braced his hands against her lower teeth and pushed himself out of her maw, sliding easily off her tongue.  Looking around, he saw he was standing on the slender muscles of her right shoulder, her peach-like fuzzy body hair tickling his toes. She was laying on her bed, head propped on pillows. After being in her sweltering mouth, Pacho felt the outside world as almost chilled, soaked as he was in her perfumed, thick saliva from the waist up.

Her agitated, blazing breath washing over him, he looked up at the erotic spectacle of her moist, opened giant mouth, full glistening lips and white teeth, slick, delicate strands of saliva connecting the lower to the upper reaches of her mouth. Even higher, he could see her glazed eyes, half closed, looking down at him through foot-long eyelashes. Her mouth closed, biting her lower lip as the two lovers stared into each other eyes. Then Pacho could not help himself and got closer to her mouth once again. Sensing his intent, she tilted her head sideways towards her shoulder, closing her eyes, pursing her lips slightly.

Pacho kneeled on her shoulder, bracing his hands on the soft skin of her chin and upper lip, taking just a moment to take in her scent and admire up close the incredible texture of the velvety, pale (if slightly flushed) skin of the giant woman, and the equally enormous, sexy meter-wide lips just inches in front of his eyes, and the glossy and beguiling vertical slit that awaited him as she tilted her head expectantly.

 First, he tasted her lips, licking them up and down, delighting in the sweet taste of her, and the infinitely soft and desirable texture of her lips, trembling himself as he felt a noticeable tremor shake her whole body in anticipation. He then plunged his whole face into her lips, rubbing his head sideways until his whole face was enveloped inside, up to his ears.

It wasn’t long until he felt her tongue reappear, questing for his mouth, and he offered it eagerly, opening as wide as he could. Tloche explored his lips and teeth carefully and with incredible precision, and as he himself brought his own little tongue into the fray, she again shook him with a throaty, protracted and undeniably needy, womanly purr which on itself almost made his loins explode right there and then. Pacho almost flinched as he felt the unexpected pad of one of her fingers lightly land on the back on his head and press almost imperceptibly.  He acquiesced and pushed his head all the way inside, feeling her lips settling wetly on his shoulders.

He enjoyed the surreal sense of being lightly sucked on like a living lollipop, as he made up with a giant eager and nimble tongue. He ended the kiss, gasping almost as hard as she was. Then her husky voice begged him:

“I’m all yours, my dear Pacho, yours to use and explore… yours to command, today and always… please tell me what to do… please… please…”

Trembling with more desire than he ever felt, he turned his head to watch the bodyscape before him. Tloche was languorously kneading her left breast with her left hand, the right one on her forehead as she gasped. Her parted legs in the distance were slowly sliding against the sheets and against each other impatiently. Her chest and abdomen swelled and fell quite a few feet with her agitated respirations.

Pacho crawled to her unoccupied right breast, delighting in the feeling of yielding titty-flesh under his hands and knees, slightly moist with perspiration, her whole body quivering in anticipation. He stopped right before her pink areola, almost two feet wide. He sat atop her breast with her nipple between his legs, looking incredulously at the wrinkled nub, sticking out almost a handspan out. Then, glad his back was to her as he was sure it would look gross, he spat as big of a dollop of his own saliva on top of her nipple as he could. He was almost dislodged from his perch as she gasped and jumped when his spit made contact with her nipple.

Pacho then proceeded to carefully and slowly lather his spit on it, squeezing and sliding his fingers on the sides as he felt it swell, wrinkle and respond to his touch until it was more than a foot long, tingling between his fingers. Tloche’s breath became more and more ragged, and her chest heaved so much he had to lay on his belly as he continued to caress her, getting his face closer to her nipple, licking, pulling and squeezing and rubbing his bearded face and lips on it, looking from time to time down her belly to her shapely thighs, alternately fidgeting close only to flail open anew as she squirmed uncontrollably under him, increasingly agitated. The bitter yet alluring scent of her sex wafted towards him. He looked uneasy at her other breast, which was being lifted, squeezed and dimpled so strongly under her nimble fingers that he knew he would not survive if he was there.

Suddenly Tloche hunched and grunted very much unlady-like, and then she squirmed in an uncontrollable paroxysm, gasping and giving out barely contained little moans. It was all he could do to grab onto her nipple, as she heaved and tossed, while Pacho looked in disbelief as her angelic face contorted and scowled, eyes tightly closed, while her mouth opened in a feral grimace of pure pleasure.

She slumped on the bed, out of breath and unable to speak, but a trembling hand pulled on Pacho’s legs, away from her too-sensitive nipple, only to rest lightly and lovingly on top of him, pressing her against her breastflesh, awash in the scent of her. A few seconds passed… then her voice returned…

“Please… more… Paat-shoh… more… I’m begging you…”