Jen
returned with her newly done hair and the house was stirring with activity
again as she ushered me into the bedroom to do her makeup. Her vanity
shelf had been updated with a little stand that existed only to elevate me
level with her face as she sat in a chair in front of the mirror. Her hair was fragranced
from the salon and smelled great.
I found
myself compliantly stroking a mascara wand against the fan of her eyelashes
while she analyzed my work in the mirror. At the same time, saying that Scott
and Tasha were off the wedding guest list.
"What?”
I said. “You kicked them off?" I felt surprised but also not really
surprised.
"HEY,"
she stopped me with a softly reproaching look (in the mirror, because she
couldn’t turn her head while I did her eyelashes). "THEY PULLED OUT,
SWEETIE. HUGE DIFFERENCE."
I stood
back, meditating on this. My best friend, Scott, refusing to attend my wedding?
Before I'd met Jen, and been shrunk, it would have been unthinkable. But a lot
of unthinkable things had happened since then.
Plus, since
I'd been shrunk, he and Tasha had gotten married but they never invited me to
their wedding. I'd been so caught up in my own issues and never paused to
consider that before. Maybe he thought I couldn't physically get to the ceremony.
Which was untrue, obviously Jennifer could take me. Unless that was the
problem.
In reality,
there was always a kind of passive aggression between Scott and Jennifer, and
it went both ways. Sometimes the way he talked about her outside her presence made
me uncomfortable, but I was too chicken to say anything.
And when we
took the GPR party to Scott’s house, early on she had removed herself from the
conversation to make and serve cocktails. That was her; sometimes she was the
life of the party and making people laugh and other times she could be
inexplicably aloof and wander off. It just seemed she wandered off more when
Scott was around.
I came to
find her bright green eyes blinking patiently at me in the mirror, waiting for
me to carry on defining her eyelashes. Then, bored, she brushing her hair to
the side and said quietly:
"HE
DECIDED HE DIDN'T WANT TO COME UNLESS I SUSPENDED THE CONSERVATORSHIP."
"Why?"
"BECAUSE
ISSUES.”
"He
never mentioned them to me."
"HE
THINKS I’M CONTROLLING? –AND, YOU
KNOW, NEXT THING HE DECIDES WHERE WE HONEYMOON. MY BUSINESS IS NONE OF HIS
FRIKKEN BUSINESS!"
Once she
quieted down, I went back to fixing her lashes. She shifted in her chair,
turning her head to switch sides.
“THAT’S NOT
EVEN IT,” she grunted, “HE WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE YOU OUT FOR YOUR BACHELOR PARTY,
THEN WE WERE ALL GOING TO MEET UP.”
“Bachelor
party?” I glanced at her eyes in the mirror, which was slightly disorienting
since I was practically staring right into her eye before me.
I went back
to combing the wand through her lashes, and over my shoulder, sensed her mirror
reflection eyeing me suspiciously.
“CAN WE
CLEAR SOMETHING UP,” she said flatly, “I MEAN, ALL THE PARTIES IN ST PALMA;
THIS IS NOT THE JERRY I KNOW.”
“Well I’ve
overshot my party quota that’s for sure.” Then I grinned at her. “Anyway, did
it bother you that I had a life while I was away?”
“OH NOT
EVEN TRUE. YOU WERE IN WAY OVER YOUR HEAD AND YOU KNOW IT… AND YEAH,” her voice
began to rise with sarcasm, “YOU ONLY WENT TO SKYROS AND YOU DIDN’T INVITE
ME, SO –”
"Hey,
you want to hear something funny?" I said suddenly, flicking the mascara
wand through her lashes with such distracted abandon her eyelid began to wince.
"When I was at the Firebird Hotel I think I saw one of the Kardashians by
the pool!"
"YOU
WHAT?"
"From
behind. And below. Who cares?" I bowed my head. "You were
right."
She looked
puzzled.
"ABOUT?"
"It's
like you said – I mean, ages ago you said I need a round-the-clock PA." My
voice reeled out. It was easier talking to a single magnified eye. It didn’t
have the licentious twist that her lips did. And I was so close to her eye that
my features would have been blurry to her.
"After
Anya took me, it made me realize I can't be left alone, I...I was trying to
party to catch up with everyone else. Scott was cool and social and always
invited me to things. Then I got shrunk. No more invitations.”
Her brow
lowered.
“WHEN DID I
STOP BEING COOL AND SOCIAL, ACCORDING TO YOU?”
“But I
mean, I think he wondered what I could get invited to anymore, if I could even
leave the house.”
“WELL, YOU
SURE SHOWED HIM.” Slight sarcasm.
“I’m
beginning to feel like if can’t get there on my own then it’s like I don’t
belong there. Or I don’t belong anywhere, at least that’s not—”
“YOU HAD NO
BUSINESS BEING AT ANY OF THESE WILD PARTIES, I AGREE WITH YOU THERE. BUT CAN
YOU RELAX? YOU DO BELONG SOMEWHERE…” There was a little tap of reassuring
pressure between my shoulders, which turned into a rub. “AND NOT EVERYONE SEES
YOU THAT WAY.”
“Okay.”
She
advanced, pouting lips almost touching upon my face. I thought she was going to
kiss me but then had a lipstick tube stuffed into my hands. I began to diligently
paint over her lips.
Once I
finished, I asked:
“What do
you have planned tonight?”
She leaned
back.
“MY BACHELORETTE
PARTY IS STILL ON – AND JUST THE THING I NEED RIGHT NOW.”
“Well, have
fun.” I put down the lipstick tube for a second. “And don’t get wrecked.”
Wow, I
considered, I was settling right into the house husband role and I wasn’t even
married yet.
She turned
on me and said playfully:
“MAYBE I
NEED A CHAPERONE.”
I looked at
her.
“Me? –You
want me to come? Why?”
She
shrugged.
“WELL..YOU’RE
SMART. YOU FIGURE IT OUT.” She plucked me up, stood me on my feet and this time
gave me a delicate kiss on the lips, leaving behind a stamp of lipstick when
the broke contact. My body surged with warmth, and not just from her breath. I shook my head.
“Blindfolds
and male strippers and dick balloons. No thanks.”
“OH, I SEE,”
she laughed. “WELL, CHRISTINE’S THE ONE ORGANIZING IT. I’M SURE IT WON’T BE LIKE
THAT…AND IF IT IS, BLAME HER.”
“Yeah…no
thanks.”
“THE MOST
IMPORTANT THING IS THAT WE HAVE FUN.” Then she whispered, “AND I’M GOING TO
‘FORGET’ TO WEAR PANTIES.” She was joking. She swatted me pleasantly on the
butt.
I finished
with the lipstick and finally got a moment to stretch my arms. She began trying
on some jewellery in the mirror and then took out the shimmery panther ring and
slipped it on. I watched it, mesmerized, trying to imagine myself being inside
it.
She was
quiet for a moment. Then she said:
“IT FEELS
WEIRD GOING OUT AND KNOWING YOU’RE BACK HERE ON YOUR OWN. ONE OF YOUR OTHER
FRIENDS HAS GOT TO BE AROUND TO TAKE YOU OUT. WHAT IS NATALIE UP TO THESE
DAYS—?”
“Natalie…”
I complained. “I used to have a crush on her.” It came out of nowhere, and felt
so remote now; no ache of unrequited love or anything.
“OH MY GOD.
I KNEW IT.” She gave me a gentle poke, causing me to stumble.
“Genius,” I
said, dancing away from the offending fingertip.
“SHE’S
LOVELY,” she said with forced thoughtfulness. “BUT THERE’S NO SHAME IN
ADMITTING I’M MORE CHARMING.”
“Of course
you are. But it’s mid-semester, so she’s going to be in St Palma.” After a
pause I added, “Everyone I know is basically in St Palma.”
Jen finished
preening herself in the mirror and then said:
“LOOK, IF
YOU REALLY WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS, I CAN GIVE YOU A RIDE TO THE
AIRPORT.”
“Are you
sure?”
A flight
would be about an hour and half. I thought about it.
“It could
be late getting back.”
“IT’S GOING
TO BE LATE FOR ME, ANYWAY.”
She swept
her arms out in an exaggerated declarative gesture:
“AND THIS
IS WHAT IT’S ABOUT: A NIGHT TO LET LOOSE BEFORE THE BIG MERGE.”
“Yeah, what
the hell. Okay, but I really can’t stomach a big insane party after everything.
Last party I had a literal heart attack. And not Natalie. She’s fine, but that’s
over and we’re not best friends.”
Jen eyed me
and this time her thoughtfulness wasn’t forced.
“AW…ACTING WASN’T
KIND TO YOUR SOCIAL LIFE, HUH?”
I shrugged.
“No, I
just…I was closer to her than she was to me.”
I stepped
forward to kiss her but instead got scooped up and got incapacitated in the
center of her palm, with my arms pinned to my sides as the thumb of her other
hand entered my central line of sight and dragged softly around to clean up
some stray lipstick marks around my cheeks.
“I THINK I
CAN TRUST YOU FOR TONIGHT. JUST DON’T HAVE TOO MUCH FUN WITHOUT ME.”
Then, I was
kissed and carefully tucked me in place within the soft lining of a pocket of
her handbag, where I would be insulated from jostling by other objects.
Above, her
face filled the bag opening, peering down at me to check I was in place. The
angle made her truly gigantic and made me feel like a petty belonging. Her
fingertips brushed me back and forth a moment, and repositioned me a couple of
times, trying to find a place I wouldn’t move around too much, and finally let
me be, and the bag interior went dark as the opening was shut.
Then my
dark pouch began to lift and spring against her hip in time with her footsteps.
I gripped the inner lining tight, trying hard not to be rolled over. Her hand
slipped in a second time, probing at my face and chest to check where I was
before retrieving the car keys and then she drove us into town to go our
separate ways.
I didn’t
complain. With my bachelor party –that I didn’t even know about—no longer
operational, going out seemed like a fun way to pass the night. And I couldn’t
make myself dinner.
"SEE
YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!" she thrilled.
*
I waited at
Arrivals to be collected from the St Palma airport, SPX. The customer assistant
had taken me off the plane and carried my booster seat to a waiting area.
A pair of
women fronted up. It was Samantha and Darcy, both casually dressed and with the
earthy, modest appearances of no makeup.
“HIIIIIIIII!”
Darcy said with a big sunny smile.
“HI THERE, SEXY,”
Samantha said, with the hint of smile.
Darcy
fussed over my small booster seat as the aide unbuckled me, and then I was
slipped inside the containment of her hand as the assistant took my seat away.
As we went
back through the airport, and all people sweeping past, Darcy held me up in
front of her beaming face and said to me:
“I WOULD
REALLY LIKE TO PUT YOU IN MY POCKET. I MEAN, IF I HAD A TINY BOYFRIEND, THAT’S WHERE I’D PUT HIM. THERE’S NOT A
LOT OF SPACE, BUT THERE’S JUST ENOUGH FOR YOU, AND WHO KNOWS, YOU MIGHT LIKE IT
IN THERE.”
Her
inquiring voice sounded like she wanted me to say something like, ‘Your pocket
looks great, thanks for the offer!’ But before I could respond, she hooked her
thumb in the pocket of her jeans and pulled it open, and I dropped neatly into
the pocket at her hip and became wedged there at her upper thigh. It was tight
but her jeans were slightly elastic and not uncomfortable, and I could move my
limbs and head. Her fingertips slid down over me, over my head and chest and
even passing over my bulge in an accidentally sensual way, before touching on
my feet. My heart raced and I tried to urge myself to not become erect. Then
she gently wiggled me a little to check the space. As her stroll carried on
without a beat, I lifted and plunged in step with her leg. Each step bounced me
against the wall of her firm thigh muscle, but the impact was softened by the
fabric inner lining.
Samantha
drove and Darcy sat in the passenger seat. I sat on Darcy’s shoulder, holding a
lock of her hair, and looked out the window at the streets rushing past.
The car
stopped at a light. Suddenly, a huge vehicle came to a stop beside us, with its
windows down. A bunch of girls were staring at me and then they pulled their t
shirts up and flashed their boobs against the window, laughing.
I said
through a creeping blush:
“This
happens in SP. I forgot.”
“THAT’S LITERALLY
NEVER HAPPENED TO US BEFORE,” Darcy replied. I wondered what would’ve happened
if I wasn’t inside the car. Maybe Darcy thought the same; she held me closer to
her chest in a protective way, but ironically pushed me up against her own ample
boobs.
“…SO WE’RE
THE BACHELOR PARTY,” Darcy was saying, someway down the road. She jiggled me
against her breast without thinking. “WHAT WOULD YOU NORMALLY DO; GO TO A STRIP
BAR?”
If a
stripper tried to give me a lap dance in a dim, smoky venue, I could get
accidentally squashed.
Samantha
answered,
“NO, NONE
OF THAT. COME HOME WITH US, JERRY. NO MORE BIG FLAMINGO PARTIES I CAN’T TAKE
IT—”
“Fine by
me,” I replied.
That was
convenient because it turned out they had their own ideas on how we would spend
my bachelor party.
On the way
home the women got some drinks and then we came back to Samantha’s house with takeout.
In the dining room, the drinks were laid out in preparation for some drinking
games.
After some
‘droplet’ shots of whiskey done out of a teaspoon, the room seemed brighter and
warmer, all the women looked a notch sexier and I began to laugh easier.
We played
strip poker, the women played taking no prisoners and I was aggressively
de-clothed. Actually, I was pretty sure one of the women had cheated but I
couldn’t prove it. They both laughed suggestively down at me as I was forced to
remove my briefs and present on the table naked.
“THIS IS
THE FAMOUS PENIS!” Darcy said. The first time we met she was shy and giggly but
that was in the past now. Now I was the shy one; the internet-borne rumor about
my endowment being out of proportion with the rest of me, still embarrassed me.
As I looked at her she gave me a little wink. My face burned under her warm but
scrutinizing eyes, and I shifted on the spot. She moved right in close to me,
taking my penis head between her fingertips and stretching it out to maximum
length. Every beat of my heart was a painful squeeze. She was leaning in so
close that her breath fanned directly onto the top of my head. I didn’t know if
she was attracted to me or even if she was into guys at all which made her
attention strange and confronting, like a best friend suddenly admitting to a
crush.
As I
prevaricated on how to respond, she calmly lifted my now half erect member to take
a look at my balls. One of her fingertips slid around my waist and rested on my
tailbone to keep me still. I concentrated on her glossy pink lips which were
slightly scrunched in concentration, as they swam dizzyingly in front of my
eyes, while my member strained for Darcy’s soft warm touch. I clenched my legs
to keep the blood circulating my body normally. Her pinky finger gently slipped
beneath my scrotum and rested there, testing its weight on the tip of her
finger. My manhood thickened with joy.
Once I was
out of the game, I found myself looking out at the world from the inside of a
glass for a drinking game. The women had to take slugs from my glass, and every
time they did, a stream of alcohol was rained on my head to top the glass up.
Then the
glass rose into the air bringing me eye to eye with a massive pair of lips
which attached to the rim and began to suck. Like a pool filter switching on, a
current moved through the liquid, repeatedly dragging me head first against the
lips of whichever woman was drinking. Samantha left darker lipstick stains on
one side of the glass rim, and Darcy left lighter marks on the other side.
The alcohol
fumes combined with the tilting motion and the women’s’ warm pummelling breath
was dizzying. Alcohol accidentally went down my throat and burned my insides,
but not unpleasantly. It had a numbing effect and I happily tolerated the
constant backwash baths and mouth massages as I was swished and dunked around
like the olive in a martini. I paddled around helplessly in the glass,
Afterward
Samantha went into the kitchen to make some snacks while Darcy took me into the
living room to start up a movie. She lay back on the sofa, and I sat beneath
her right breast, leaning against its underside, enjoying its warmth and softness.
Midway into
the movie, with the room darkened, the women squeezed onto the one sofa.
Samantha stroked me against Darcy’s breasts, and Darcy would giggle and try to
swat me away. Then they were tightly entwined, making out, and I was still
being stroked against Darcy, while her giggling turned into deeper moaning. Her
hand covered me and stroked my face. Samantha shifted and the warm weight of
her pressed on my other side until I was sandwiched between them. The two women
were thoroughly invested in each other and I had become an afterthought. Their
breasts softly grinded me on either side, and several times I got pinched
between them, before one of them searched for me and put me in a new position,
but I kept getting stuck between them, and rolled about.
The women
felt me rubbing back and forth against their breasts and it only heightened
their arousal; their nipples became harder and began to poke and bump me. I was
also getting hard and my erection kept getting grinded by their nipples or
caught and squeezed between their breasts.
Samantha
picked me up and returned me to Darcy’s chest. Her shirt was off, and her brown
erect areola pointed at my face. The point of her nipple ran over my face like
a fingertip. Then my erection was touched to her nipple and brushed delicately
back and forth to further stimulate the tight bud. Her nipple was silky soft
and like fingertips upon my member. My body tightened and raced. Darcy let out a
series of low, pleasured sounds. My entire view was one ample round breast,
meeting and stroking up and down my dick, and at moments, touching to my face.
Without thinking I licked and sucked her nipple and she let out a jubilant cry.
While the women kissed each other, I was being compelled to make out with this
huge full breast, I was nothing more than a surface to happily cup her breast
and trace its outline and titillate her.
The sexual
energy and compulsion was like a powerful drug. The thrusting of her chest wall
and her moaning was making me crazy. My head pounded and my face was given no
rest from being invaded by the probe of her tight nipple. Every so often one of
them fondled and tweaked my erection, keeping my balls dense and begging to for
relief.
In
desperation, I crawled up the cleft of Darcy’s chest and sheltered in the
depression of her neck while the women carried on kissing. Samantha’s hair
lashed me a couple of times and then the women settled down to watch the rest
of the movie.