Blissfully unaware as usual, the woman’s face loomed overhead, and soon those perky lips dominated his siteline. Yet again, the pink leviathan made its debut; Andrew had barely registered the gathered crumbs scattered across Amelia’s lips before they were wiped away in a quick, easy lick from her tongue.

‘Please don’t drink me...please don’t drink me...I don’t want to be swallowed, I don’t want to die…!’ He began to repeat in his mind, forming the words with his mouth but never actually uttering them this time. The lips parted again as they made contact with the cup, pressing against the surface in a light kiss before they parted. The cup began to tilt again, this time more drastically, and the gentle current that had accompanied him for the last several seconds took a dramatic turn, both in direction speed. The winds began to blow again, Amelia’s gentle inhale to begin the sipping process assaulted his ears again, but he was far less concerned about the sound as he was concerned about his proximity to her encroaching mouth.

Lips parted once again, Andrew was given a distinct view of Amelia’s cavernous mouth, cast in shadow, with hints of the danger within catching bits of light. A flash of white from a tooth, the pink of her gum line, tongue, and uvula, pools of saliva gathering everywhere. The deep red of her throat, barely discernible from within the cup, served as a final warning to any who would dare venture near. The mouth of the girl grasping his world in her palm was daunting, even more so than his encounters at the woman’s feet.

Andrew clung to his makeshift flotation device with all of his might, though he heavily considered abandoning it to try surviving the current under his own power. He wasn’t stronger than the pull of the sip, but he had a will to survive, unlike the mindless breadcrumbs that practically threw themselves into Amelia’s gullet with all abandon. ‘The cowards.’ he thought, looking for a scapegoat of any type to justify why he was unable to escape the situation. It wasn’t his fault he’d been shrunken to such a pathetic size. It wasn’t his fault Rachel sat on him, or that both of the girls nearly stepped on him. And it still wasn’t his fault that Amelia was about to swallow him alive with her breakfast.

He was close now, close enough that looking directly up, he could see Amelia’s nostrils above, even darker than the depths of her mouth. He quickly looked away, back into the void beyond her lips. He caught snatches of her glistening tongue that resided beyond the warm, supple guardian lips, hundreds of gallons of tea disappearing beyond them each moment.

His heart sank. It was over.

The deluge of tea carrying his crummy raft toward Amelia’s mouth finally reached the point of no return. The woman’s lip, now almost directly above, puckered gently to increase the efficiency in which she sipped her tea. Her upper incisors above, only the very tips visible at this juncture, threatened to collapse around him the moment he passed through the chamber they guarded with such dedication. Darkness began to consume him, as he prepared to also be consumed by Amelia.

*Bzzzt, Bzzzzzzt!* It all happened rather quickly, a distant, but distinct buzzing from somewhere far below. Enough to pause Amelia’s sip, enough to save his life. As Andrew and his improvised sea vessel crested the brim of the cup, Amelia’s slight shift in position caused both he, and a single drop of tea, to slip from the cup, and drip onto the woman’s lower lip. Caught in a rogue trickle of tea, Andrew, desperate to find a breath of air, spent milliseconds stranded within the dribble of tea resting on Amelia’s lip, before, as one would expect, her leviathan tongue made a tertiary visit outside of its personal realm.

The tongue, riddled with taste buds as tall or taller than he, lashed out with the speed and grace of a dancer, attempting to snatch what tiny bit of tea had not become enveloped within the warm, moist cavern of Amelia’s mouth. Andrew, breaching the surface of the drop, watched helplessly as the monumental pink muscle attempted to capture him and drag him between the teeth, to become a toy to toss around, and ultimately sacrifice to the chasm of her throat. But lady luck had granted Andrew one last chance.

As the tongue slipped out, it caught only the tiniest taste of the droplet of tea. The rest of the droplet, unfortunately for the tongue, was propelled forward, just enough to roll across Amelia’s lower lip, and begin to slip along her chin, carrying a tiny, helpless little jock along with it. Before he knew it, he was rolling along the surface of Amelia’s chin within the drop of tea, which left a trail of tea in its wake.

Saved. Once again, what should have been his demise at the unwitting presence of the woman above was simply another nightmare inducing set of events that he had lived through. And below...what terrible fate awaited directly below?

From Amelia’s chin, Andrew’s body floated within the precariously resting drop of tea. He was not heavy enough to cause it to fall, but nor did he want to tempt fate again. He didn’t need to look to find out what was below. He could already imagine it. He could already feel himself exploring it, sliding around and traversing it like a mountain climber’s wet dream, in every sense of the word. Was it worth it? Did he dare?

He did.

Despite his lack of air, and lack of blood reaching the proper brain, he began to wiggle, struggle, and fight. There was a prize to be claimed for surviving this long. Two glorious hills of perfectly formed woman flesh, begging to be explored and conquered. He would start by charting a path between the mountainous mammaries, identifying every curve, every freckle, every possible path to reach the twin summits. From there, he would climb, risking life and limb to ascend the unending globes of flesh, rounder and softer and objectively more magnificent than Rachel’s rump could ever hope to be.

He would circumnavigate the areola, brazenly marking the territory as his own, before conquering the last trial that towered over his head, ready to plant his flag and shout in victory as he stimulated either of the sensitive mounds of perfectly pronounced femininity...Amelia’s nipples.

He kicked and swung, despite the protests of his now discolored and swollen shoulder. He swung his hips around and threw his weight from left to right, anything to dislodge this drip of tea that had so graciously offered him an opportunity to explore his tiny, personal Valhalla. And for once, his efforts bore fruit.

Practically screaming in excitement as he felt gravity take him away, a non-stop journey to the forbidden mountains, he nearly forgot that his oxygen within this single drop of liquid was nearing the point of suffocation. He withheld his scream of joy for this reason, and awaited his glory. He’d land near her collarbone, exposed and giving a perfect shot for the glorious mounds, barely hidden by the thin top Amelia had chosen to wear on such a wonderful day. ‘Thank you.’ He prayed to the goddess.

And, surprisingly, his estimations on his landing point were as precise as they could be. With Amelia unable to act fast enough, his trickle of now lukewarm team had landed just at her collarbone, and seconds later, the ride began. Finally catching his breath, he was given a prime perspective of his destination, the exposed bosom of the woman whose very body he had been exploring. Carried along with the drip of tea, he only wished he could record the moment to remember time and time again.

He closed his eyes, ready to reopen them when he was deep within the valley of cleavage that Amelia had so unintentionally provided for him to appreciate up close. It wouldn’t be long now. A shadow settled around him...he must have entered her top. Next, his pleasure ride would slow to a halt and… It came to an end rather suddenly, and instead of the warm sensation of Amelia’s breasts surrounding him, he felt himself pressed into a dry, paper like surface, his wet body adhering to it like glue. His eyes opened wide, and horror filled his mind.

A tissue paper. Instead of the unending joy of the luscious, perky breasts that he’d been promised, he was stuck to a piece of tissue paper, as is collected him and the trail of tea left above Amelia’s chest, guided by her fingers. “NO! No, no, no! God DAMN IT!” He threw a tantrum, slamming his fists into the paper, which no doubt had the support of Amelia’s fingers within it. Thwarted, plans ruined so easily by a quick swipe of a pair of fingers. He was heartbroken yet again, and hardly even registered the following seconds as Amelia dried her chest, then placed the napkin on the coffee table against her plate.

***

Amelia, having chewed only a bite or two of her strawberry toast before taking a long sip of her tea, was startled by the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the table, indicating a text had come in. She felt herself miss the last drop of her sip, and tried to catch it with her tongue before it fell, but missed. Setting her cup down, she reached for the table and snagged a napkin, just as the escapist drop of tea fell to her chest. She wiped it up easily, then set the napkin back on the table and grabbed her phone. A text from Rachel.

‘I felt a few drops of rain...coming home. I guess it’s a short jog today. Could you put on some coffee for me?’

‘Yep!’ Amelia replied back, getting to her now bare feet and heading to the kitchen to get the pot started. Rachel was really having a rough morning, the least she could do was make a pot of coffee for the poor girl. With the remnants of her strawberry toast in hand, she took another ravenous bite and began surfing through the Netflix catalog. Maybe they could watch 300 tonight after all.

***

Andrew lay on the slightly crumpled and used napkin defeated. Sure, he was safe now, safer than anywhere else thus far, but it was bittersweet. Coming so close to a very different kind of victory, only to have it snatched away had really taken the wind out of his sails. He wanted to stay here and just vegetate, pretend that this admittedly soft napkin was actually his bed, and that he was not under the threat of a couple of giant girls and their butt cheeks, sneakers, sandals and mouths. He wanted to really, truly make up with Kate, and then show her just how much he was capable of loving her.

The thought of it the same situation from moments ago, except with Kate, is what got him started. With no shame and no one to see, he whipped out his manhood. Amelia’s breasts were nice, but Kate was a well endowed woman, and she had no qualms about letting him get hands on with them. He would regularly grab her boobs or pop her bra straps when she wasn’t paying attention. Kate would always giggle and nod affectionately, giving her breasts a delightful jiggle. He imagined her doing that, but with him wandering through the landscape of her cleavage as she did so. An earth-shaking movement like that would be phenomenal. A simple boob wiggle, or when she bounced on her toes and made those fantastic breasts bounce, or that time when she tried to suffocate him under her chest…

Exhausted after his moment of sex-charged fantasy, he rolled over onto his chest, ready to snooze for a few minutes, a satisfied grin on his face.