Andy was 4 feet, 2 inches tall and weighed 60 pounds when the shrinking disease started to take its toll emotionally. He was sure everyone at the meeting didn't care for his report and didn't respect his professional judgment. The feeling in the conference room was palpable. The silence that his presentation received, the tilt of a chin there, a condescending voice there. It added up. His authority at work was rapidly diminishing along with his size.

Andy's coworker Paul stopped at his office later in the morning. "You doing okay, Andy?"

He had been trying to focus on answering client emails, but his mind was preoccupied with the meeting, and it showed in his troubled mien.

"I don't know how much longer I can put up with this," he grumbled.

Paul sat down so he wasn't looking down so much on his friend. They were about even in height before the shrinking started. "What are you talking about?"

"The meeting! It was awful."

"You're imagining things. You were great in there."

Andy shook his head. "I know my short-term disability doesn't kick in until I'm 3 feet 8 inches, but I'm thinking about taking vacation time until then."

"Don't do that, Andy. It would make a long summer here without you even longer. Hey, I know what'll cheer you up. Let's go to lunch."

Andy checked the time on his computer monitor. 11:08. A mite early for lunch, but allowed. Maybe he could clear his head and get some actual work done this afternoon.

"Why not?" He slid down from his chair and followed Paul to the elevators. Paul hit the down button, which was at eye level for Andy.

"Where are we going?"

Paul grinned. "You'll see."

"I can't believe you picked Twin Peaks," Andy said when they were seated.

Paul rubbed his hands together eagerly. "You'll thank me when you see the waitress."

Andy buried his face in the menu. His feet dangled from the height of the chair, and his chin barely cleared the tabletop. To further his shame, the hostess had asked Paul if "the little guy" needed a booster seat. "No!" the men had said in unison.

"Let's just eat and get out of here," Andy said.

Paul looked behind Andy, and a look of blank contentment etched across his face.

A familiar, feminine voice sounded behind Andy. "Welcome to Twin Peaks. My name's Kim. Can I start you guys off with some drinks?"

"Andy, why don't you order first," Paul said.

Andy looked over his shoulder. His jaw literally dropped as two pale breasts rotated into view. They were pressed together by the traditional Twin Peaks plaid, cutoff blouse. Andy followed the line of dark cleavage up to a long, graceful throat. The bigger shock, though, was when he registered the girl's face.

"Kimberly?!" he said.

When the girl recognized Andy, she was equally thunderstruck. "Mr. Speed, is that you?!"

Paul's smile fell off his face. "You two know each other?"

Andy felt his face turn crimson. "Kimberly is Brooke's best friend."

"Your daughter Brooke?"

Andy nodded. "That's the one."

Kimberly's eyes goggled at Andy's size. "Mr. Speed, what happened to you?"

Andy reluctantly slid out of his chair and looked up at Kimberly over the diagonal slope of her jutting breasts. "I have the shrinking disease."

She took half a step towards him, as if standing closer would confirm his reduced stature. His shoulders were even with the narrowest part of her tapered waist, his nose even with her bust line.

"I'm—I'm so sorry!"

"That's okay. And you're waitressing at Twin Peaks."

She bit her lower lip nervously. "Yeah. I just started."

Andy felt guilty for the judgment he was implying with that comment. He smiled brightly. "Well, since you're our waitress, I feel better about eating here." He climbed back into his chair. "I'll have an ice tea."

Kimberly was relieved at Andy's ability to transcend the awkward moment with a compliment. She looked at Paul, forgetting all about Andy and applying herself to the task at hand. "And you, sir?"

"Uh, a coke."

She flashed a pretty smile at Andy and turned on her heels to get their drinks. He noticed Kimberly's round butt wiggle in the small khaki shorts they made the waitresses wear here. They also did little to conceal her long, toned legs.

He noticed Paul was staring at him. "Is that the waitress you were telling me about?" Andy asked.

"Well—yeah! What do you think of her?"

Andy scowled. "I think she's Brooke's 18 year-old friend."

Paul sat back. "But that body! Her face. Those legs. Those tits!"

"Please," Andy said.

But Paul couldn't contain himself. "You should have seen her when she walked up behind you. Each of those gazongas is bigger than your head."

"They'll only get bigger," Andy said, and he flushed red again. "I mean, because of the shrinking—”

"I know what you meant," Paul said. He stifled a chuckle. "I wouldn't want to trade places with you, Andy, but you have to admit there are advantages to getting the shrinking disease."

"What do you mean?"

Paul clamped his mouth shut as Kimberly returned with their drinks. She smiled at both of them, but gave Andy an especially big smile. Playing the role of the flirtatious waitress to the letter. Paul leered as the beautiful teenager bent at the waist to put Andy's ice tea on the table in front of him, her pert, large breasts wobbling in her overmatched blouse.

"I mean," Paul said when she was gone, "that the smaller you get, the bigger her tits get."

The rest of Andy's day went by relatively smoothly. Alecia picked him up from work at 4 and they drove home. Andy told her about his day, leaving out the trip to Twin Peaks, of course. When they got home, he changed into some comfortable clothes and measured himself. Four feet, 1 inch.

He stopped by Brooke's room to see her. He wanted to make sure to show her that even though he would shrink to as little as 1 inch tall in the next month or so, Daddy was still the same person.

As they were talking, the doorbell rang and they heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Kimberly walked through the bedroom door. She had apparently changed out of her Twin Peaks uniform, and was now wearing a conservative, elbow-length, blue blouse and a black business skirt.

"Oh," she said, stopping when she saw Andy and Brooke together. "I'm sorry."

She started to back out the door, but Andy said, "That's okay. We were done talking, right sweetie?"

He winked confidently at Brooke as he headed out the door. "Hello, Kim."

"Hi, Mr. Speed."

He looked up as he passed her in the doorway. Thankfully her blouse covered a lot more skin than the Twin Peaks uniform, but the sheer mass of the girl's breasts that he had glimpsed at lunch was evident, pushing her blouse well beyond her chin.

He went to the office and logged onto the computer to look over some financial statements. He and Alecia had discussed what to do to make end's meet while he was on short-term disability leave. She had found a temp job at a law firm of an old friend, whose legal secretary was about to have a kid. It was the best job she could get after being out of the workforce for 10 years. She had worked part time as an orphan's advocate until Brooke entered middle school.

Anyway, Alecia should be able to make enough money so that their family income would stay roughly the same. However, the house routine would certainly change, with Alecia going to work 40 hours a week and Andy set to stay home for the next 3 months or however long it would take to grow back to his normal height. He just hoped he wasn't completely useless when it came time to help Brooke move to college.

A knock at the door brought Andy out of his private thoughts. "Mr. Speed?"

"Come in."

The door pushed open just wide enough to allow Kimberly through. She shut the door behind her and approached him slowly, her hands clasped below her waist.

"Hi," she said, her voice meek, eyes on the floor in front of him.

Andy smiled wanly. "If you think I'm angry, Kim, I'm not. In fact I'm not even upset."

She looked surprised. "You're not?"

He shook his head. "Whatever you do for work, it's not my business. Lunch today was awkward, but that's not your fault. It's just… how things go sometimes."

She nodded contritely. "Brooke didn't tell me you had the shrinking disease."

"It's kind of embarrassing, so we're only telling people on a need-to-know basis."

They looked across the room at each other. Kimberly seemed like she wanted to say more, but couldn't. Andy had a feeling what she wanted, so he made it easier for her.

"I take it from your new outfit that you're not telling your parents where you're working."

She looked relieved and the words, which she had composed in her mind beforehand, came rushing out. "If they found out, they would be really upset. They've been stressing a lot that I be modest."

"If you were my daughter, I'd tell you the same thing," he said.

She wiped a strand of hair behind her ear. "They think I'm answering phones at an office downtown. Do you think… I mean, could you keep—"

"I won't tell them," Andy said. "But as a man with a grown daughter, let me give you some advice. I would encourage you to either tell your parents where you work, or find another job."

She looked slightly cross. "Why would I do something else? I thought you weren't upset with me."

"I'm not. But you still live under your parents' roof. Their house, their rules."

"But this is the best-paying job I could find."

Andy held up his hands defensively. "I'm not going to debate you, Kim. I'm just giving you your parents' perspective. You can't keep them in the dark all summer."

"I guess you're right," she said, sullen.

Andy felt a little guilty. He hadn't meant to come across as harsh as he sounded. "Don't worry. It'll be our secret," he said.

She smiled a heart-stopping smile, which made Andy feel a little better. She stepped closer and started to lean down for a hug. Andy gulped as he watched her wide chest cast a shadow over him, her blouse stretching from the heavy bosom it concealed.

Kimberly stopped as if to reconsider, then she dropped to one knee so her face was level with his. "Thank you, Mr. Speed."

She pressed into him, a little tightly, he thought. Maybe she didn't realize how much stronger she was than him since he had shrunk. He sank into her yielding flesh, her large breasts flattening against him, easily covering his chest and abdomen. Her body was very warm, and even though the embrace lasted only a second, Andy's skin felt balmy.

She released him and stood up. Andy watched her rise, his heart pounding as the shelf of her breasts passed within inches of his face. With his eyes he followed her swaying hips and tight butt as she walked to the door. Despite her best efforts to dress conservatively, she was still obviously a knockout. He wondered how he could have missed it all these years she had been coming over to visit Brooke.

Kimberly looked over her shoulder coyly. "I wouldn't be embarrassed if I were you," she said.

"Why not?"

That smile again. "You're really cute at this size."

Before he could react, she was through the door and had shut it behind her. He heard a giggle before she descended the stairs.

Over the next 2 weeks, Andy continued to shrink. The following Wednesday was his last day at work, and Alecia went to work the following Monday. With Brooke working her third summer at the ice cream shop at the mall, Andy found himself home alone for the first time since he was a bachelor. So he did what he used to do as a bachelor: play video games and watch movies and porn.

Since his sex life with Alecia was nonexistent, Andy masturbated at least twice a day. He found himself attracted to fetish sites featuring tall women with large breasts. The fantasy scenarios didn't seem so unreal, as Andy knew any woman now could physically dominate him, and even modestly proportioned women were now huge from his perspective. Occasionally visions of Kimberly, who was NOT modestly proportioned, wearing her Twin Peaks uniform would replace the model in the online porno he was watching. He came especially hard to these visions.

Andy was 2 feet, 6 inches tall and weighed a mere 14 pounds when something terrible—or wonderful, depending on how you look at it—happened. After dinner he was upstairs doodling on the computer when he heard the doorbell ring. Then he heard Alecia call Brooke down from her room. Then he heard a girl sobbing. He hopped down the stairs to investigate.

Alecia and Brooke were consoling a weeping Kimberly. A large suitcase rested next to Kimberly. Alecia told him the story. Twin Peaks had mailed Kimberly's first paycheck to her house. Her parents had found it before she could hide it from them. They confronted her, she continued to deny it, and they searched her room. They found her Twin Peaks uniform under the mattress, and kicked her out of the house.

"She needs a place to stay," Alecia said. "Until she finds an apartment."

Andy nodded. "The guest room should be okay."

Andy slept in as was becoming normal for him. It was mid-morning when he roused out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower. At this time of day, the house should be empty, with both Alecia and Brooke at work. He didn't know Kimberly's schedule, so she might still be in the house.

He noticed a bright red bra hanging on the shower divider. Not wanting to get it wet while he showered, he pulled it down. He jumped up to catch the dangling strap and it slid off the divider as he landed on his feet.

The bra cup landed on his head. "What in the world?!" he exclaimed. The bra cup was enormous, way bigger than his head. He lifted it off his head and checked the tag. "38F," it read.

It had to be Kimberly's bra, he thought. Alecia was a 36C, and he didn't know Brooke's exact size, but she was smaller up top than her mother.

"38F. Jesus." He turned the bra over in his hands, feeling the silky material, admiring the craftsmanship in the thick strap. It would have to be thick to support Kimberly's hefty payload. He imagined his daughter's friend's large breasts filling each cup.

Paul's words echoed in his mind: "The smaller you get, the bigger her tits get." How small would he get?

He set the bra on the bathroom floor and climbed into the tub to shower.

After drying off and getting dressed, he hopped downstairs to see if Kimberly was around. He found her in the kitchen, sitting on a stool at the counter, looking over some paperwork.

"Hey Kim, how are you doing?"

"Fine, Mr. Speed. Just filling out some paperwork." She sounded tired, weary.

Andy grabbed a cereal bar from the bottom shelf of the pantry. He and Alecia had worked out a way for him to take care of himself without having to access anything high up. It remained to be seen if the current system would work when he shrank below a foot tall.

He started heading back towards the stairs. "I'll leave you alone, then."

"Wait, can you help me? I don't understand this."

He stopped next to her stool and gazed up at her massive form. She was wearing a white tank top and flower-print pajama pants. "What is it?" he asked.

She lowered the paper so he could see it. "Direct deposit form. I can't have my paychecks sent to my parents' house anymore."

Already it was her "parents' house," Andy thought. Yesterday it would have been HER house.

He took the single sheet of paper, which was as long as his torso, and looked at it. "Okay, this should be easy. Ah, um, do you want to join me down here, or should I join you up there?"

Wanting to spare him the indignity of forcing her to join him on the cold floor, she said, "Up here. I can give you a lift, if you—”

"No thank you, Kim. I got it." Andy walked over to the stool next to her and started climbing up the footrests.

Kimberly smirked as she watched the tiny man grunt and grapple his way first to the seat of the stool, then the top of the counter.

He gave a self-deprecating bow after the performance. Kimberly clapped with amused admiration, her bra-less breasts jiggling inside her shirt. She picked the direct deposit form up off the floor and spread it out in front of her.

Andy walked around to the bottom corner of the form so they could read it together.

"I don't know what numbers it's asking for," she said.

"Do you have a check?" he asked.

"Yeah." She stood up to reach for her purse. Her large body stretched over him. Andy watched her face until it was out of view, then lowered his gaze to her long neck and collar bone. His gaze fell a little further to the profile of her right breast, its shape outlined by her taut, white top. 38F, he thought.

She sat back down and placed the checkbook in front of him.

"This number here is the routing number. And this number here is the checking number," he said, pointing out the digits on the bottom edge of the check.

"Oh, okay." She took her pen in her left hand and pressed it against the paper. Andy watched the pen trace the digits neatly into their allotted spaces.

"There," she said, holding up the paper triumphantly. "Now I don't have to get my paycheck from my parents' house."

"Kimberly—"

"I know what you're going to say, Mr. Speed. I tried telling them, but I couldn't. They wouldn't understand. I mean, look, they kicked me out!"

Andy became stern. "Look, Kim, I think they understand quite well. That kind of job—”

"They said it was like being a stripper, which it totally isn't," Kimberly said. "Waitresses don't take their clothes off for customers."

Andy kept pressing. "That's true, Kim, but you have to admit the similarities. Strippers get paid to titillate and tempt men. In essence, that is the same thing you're doing at Twin Peaks. More innocently, perhaps, but it's the same."

Andy's words cut Kimberly deeply. "But—”

"You have to admit it's not a very modest outfit."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean your—” He gestured vaguely at her chest. "Look, all I'm saying is men are thinking of only one thing when they see you in that uniform, and it isn't their lunch."

Kimberly glanced guiltily down at her chest. Her voice rose an octave, the little girl emerging from within the woman's body. "I didn't ask to be like this." Tears started to well up in her eyes. "Momma says this is how God made me."

Andy felt terrible. He touched her upper arm. "And you shouldn't be ashamed. But you should be aware that how you dress affects people, and the kinds of looks you invite by your clothing choices."

She sniffled. "Momma told me that so many times. I guess I never took her seriously, but now that you're saying it…" Her voice trailed off and she grabbed a tissue out of her purse. Andy stayed where he was, caressing her upper arm consolingly.

She wiped snot from her nose. "Does how I dress affect you the same way, Mr. Speed?"

Andy wasn't prepared for the question, but he knew right away he should be honest. "Yes, to tell the truth."

She looked about to burst into tears. Andy pre-empted her. "It's not your fault, though. If I'm being honest here, it doesn't matter, ah…"

"What doesn't matter?"

Andy saw the trap that he had set for himself, and he decided he had no choice but to walk right into it.

"It doesn't matter what you wear, Kim. In my condition, a girl your size is going to affect my thoughts no matter what."

She wiped her nose again. "You mean, because of the shrinking disease, or because of my…" She shrugged her shoulders to indicate her breasts, which lifted an inch from the counter before resettling in their previous position.

Andy chuckled nervously. "Both. But that's not your problem. It's my problem. Understand?"

She nodded. She started playing with her fingers, avoiding eye contact with him. The little girl again. "How small will you get?"

"Worst case is about an inch. Then it should start to reverse itself."

"Wow." She absently separated her thumb and index finger, measuring out an inch.

Andy realized he might be small enough to stand on her thumb soon. "Yeah."

"Well, as long as you're letting me stay here, it's going to be my problem, too. So whatever you want, Mr. Speed, I'll help if I can."

Andy felt a little teary-eyed himself. Kimberly's parents raised a great girl, he thought. He hoped they saw that, and not just Twin Peaks.

"Thanks! You can start by helping me down from the counter."

Kimberly laughed. "Okay!" She stuck her large hands through his arms and lifted him off the counter. Standing up, she rotated until he was over the kitchen floor and bent at the waist to lower him down. Andy could not look away from her neckline, which fell farther from her chest the lower she bent, affording him a breathtaking view of her deep cleavage.

His feet touched the ground, but Kimberly still held him in her soft hands. Her thumb wiped gently over his ribs. "Mr. Speed?" she said liltingly.

"Uh, yes?" Shit, had she caught him staring?

"Just to let you know, I don't mind."

Andy fought hard to maintain eye contact, knowing how close her neckline was. His mouth was dry. "Don't mind what, Kim?"

She shimmied her shoulders, sending her round breasts side to side under her shirt. They were so close, Andy could hear them rubbing together, fighting over the limited space between her athletic frame and tight tank top.

"When you look. In fact, I like it." Releasing him, she straightened at the waist until her breasts were literally between them. He could see the outline of her hard nipples through the stretched material of her shirt.

She giggled, turned on her heel, and headed upstairs, leaving Andy in awe.

Little did Andy know it at the time, but Kimberly's temporary addition to the household had inaugurated a sexual contest between them, one that he had unwittingly started deep in the hole. He was obsessed with Kimberly, and she knew it because he'd told her! He had thought he was talking to a girl in need of fatherly reassurance and guidance, and had forgotten he was dealing with a woman learning just how powerful her charms could be.

Kimberly masqueraded about the house all afternoon, teasing him relentlessly with her body. The beautiful teen drove him to distraction with glimpses of her legs, backside, and chest. Her magnificent curves were magnified at least twice from his vantage point, and he was in a state of constant excitement and arousal.

Part of Andy wished Kimberly wasn't staying with them, so that he would still have the image of her in the Twin Peaks uniform preserved in his memory. Now that she was always around, his imagination wasn't good enough to satisfy his sexual cravings. He wanted the real thing.

But how?! He had given her all the cards.

Well, not ALL the cards. He was a 40 year-old man, after all, and she was only 18. What she boasted in form, he boasted in experience and tactics. And she had left him one little something. She had said if he wanted anything, she would help him if she could.

Before she left for work, Kimberly presented herself to him, wearing her Twin Peaks uniform. She was working night shifts now, a sign of recognition from management that she was popular with the customers. She turned to the side, giving him a stunning view of her body in profile. "Why do you think that is, Mr. Speed?"

Andy wasn't about to complain about the view, but the girl's attitude was a big turn-off. This behavior was irritating, presuming that she could dominate him with a visual offering of flesh anytime she wanted.

A part of him was too proud to be dominated so easily. He said archly, "That the clientele at night is fonder of throwing away their money."

Kimberly pouted playfully. "Come on, Mr. Speed, I was only teasing. I thought you liked—"

"Remember what I said about men and their thoughts, Kim. And remember alcohol reduces inhibition."

Serious now, her hands came together below her waist, that gesture of meekness. "Yes, Mr. Speed. See you tomorrow!"

Andy set to masturbating as soon as she was gone and blasted his biggest load yet.

Then he began to formulate a plan for Friday.

"Good morning, Mr. Speed." She was sitting at the kitchen counter, eating an orange.

"Good morning, Kim."

"I got the newspaper for you." She patted the folded newspaper, lying on the countertop.

"Thank you." In a repeat of yesterday morning, Andy climbed the stool to the counter, while Kimberly watched him with girlish fascination.

He feigned interest in the newspaper for a minute before facing her. "Can I ask you a favor?" he asked.

She brightened and put down her orange slice. "Sure!"

"I was thinking I'd like to have a real breakfast. I'm sick of cereal bars. Do you know how to make eggs?"

Kimberly smiled broadly and jumped down from her stool, her breasts bouncing under her pink T-shirt. Andy guessed from their more subtle movements compared to yesterday that she was wearing a bra, possibly out of respect for him after their parting words yesterday. Maybe his hand wasn't as weak as he thought.

"I sure do! How many do you want?"

"Just one." He patted his belly. "All I can stomach, I think."

She ran to the fridge and opened the dairy drawer. She was wearing black volleyball shorts that covered just a few inches of her thighs, and clung like a second skin to her tight butt.

Ten minutes later, she put a scrambled egg on a saucer plate in front of him. She watched closely as he ate his egg with a fork as long as his arm.

"Pretty good," he said judiciously. "Can I have a glass of orange juice?" This was the critical part of his plan.

He watched her walk to the refrigerator again, a spring in her step. She liked doing things for him, he realized. That was good, because he had designs for her to do more things to him later.

Kimberly filled a glass half-full of orange juice and set it in front of him. She put her plate of two eggs next to him and they ate facing each other, him sitting cross-legged on the counter, her sitting on the stool.

He reached both hands around the orange juice glass and lifted it to his mouth. "Ah!" he cried out as he let the glass slip through his hands. Orange juice splashed all over him and ran towards the edge of the counter.

Kimberly leapt to her feet. "I got it!" She tore off some paper towels and sopped the juice off the counter, while Andy stood the glass up. He looked down at himself, pretending frustration. He was drenched.

She looked at him as he stood dripping in front of her. "Oh, poor thing. Do you have a change of clothes?"

"This is my only set of clothes at this height," he said. He looked up at her. "Could you wash these for me?"

She seemed startled. "Sure, Mr. Speed, but what will you—ah, wear?"

She hadn't finished the sentence before Andy had removed his shirt and his pants, leaving him in just his 13-inch-waist boxer briefs.

Kimberly looked at him, mouth closed, face blank. "Something wrong?" he asked, smirking.

Her voice had a husky quality as she said, barely above a whisper, "I've never seen you without your shirt on, Mr. Speed. I didn't know you were so fit."

"I've been curling toothpicks in my free time."

She giggled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She'd recovered from her surprise and was ready to play. "And what I said before is truer now."

"What's that?" he asked.

She lowered her face towards him until they were inches apart. Her eyes gleamed as they scanned him head to toe. He felt her warm breath on his half-naked body. "You are really cute at this size."

Andy shivered in arousal when she turned away. She picked up his soiled clothes and started to go to the laundry room. She stopped, though, and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Do you want to come with me to the laundry room?"

Andy did, but he wasn't sure he liked this. It was a small thing, going to the laundry room, but it was her idea, not his. She was asserting her will, asking him to cede control to her. But he couldn't say no. For the first time Andy appreciated how difficult it was to keep the upper hand with a woman over twice your height.

"Okay," he said, lacking conviction.

She approached the counter, turned to the side, and bent her knees a little. Andy watched her, uncertain what she was doing.

"Come on," she said, lifting her arm.

Andy cautiously walked towards the edge of the counter. Kimberly's arm fell behind him and pushed him gently into her body. Then she tucked the same arm underneath his butt and straightened her knees.

Just like that, she had picked him up, like an infant, his legs straddling her hip, his torso balanced between her chest and the crook of her arm.

She didn't even need to use her other arm. Walking to the laundry room, which was just off the kitchen, she pushed the door open with the same hand that held his soiled clothes. Over the short distance, Andy's cock achieved most of its 3 inches from rubbing against Kimberly's ribs.

In the laundry room, she set him down on his feet on top of the side-loading washer. She tossed his clothes in the washer and started adjusting knobs to start the wash cycle. Andy sat with his legs sprawled and watched her breasts appreciatively as she reached over him for the knobs, not even trying to hide his arousal.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked, stepping back from the washer and putting her hands on her hips.

He shrugged innocently. "You put me here. I'm just making the best of it."

Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled into a smirk as she considered her next move.

Suddenly her hands gripped the bottom hem of her T-shirt. She pulled it away from her body and looked down in mock-dismay.

"Will you look at that! Some orange juice got on my shirt. We may as well wash this, too."

Andy's heart leapt into his throat as Kimberly pulled the shirt up, over her toned abs, over her 38F breasts, and over her head in one long, slow, sexy motion.

Andy immediately recognized the red bra she was wearing. Kimberly was bigger than he had given her credit for. She more than filled each cup.

Hair askew, Kimberly threw the shirt in the side loader and pushed the button to start the cycle, exaggerating her reach to give Andy a better view. The little man sat frozen in place, as if he was an animal in the wild, aware he was being hunted.

She leaned forward on top of the washer, resting both arms on either side of Andy. The washer's motions caused her breasts to tremble.

"If that's all right with you," she added belatedly. She blushed, feeling his eyes devouring her. "I figured it would be all right, since yesterday you said it makes no difference how I dress. I affect your thoughts no matter what. Isn't that what you said, Mr. Speed?"

Andy tried to say something but all that came out was a croaking sound.

"Are you all right?" she asked quizzically. She moved her hands closer around him, as he looked a little piqued and could collapse any second. This action squeezed her round breasts closer together, making her incalculable cleavage even longer.

"I'm fine," he gasped.

"Well, what do we do now?"

Entranced by the smooth swells of flesh each half his size, expanding from her neck to abdomen, bursting from the tops of the F-size cups, Andy saw then the futility of his plan. He was clearly overmatched, and they both knew it. He was bluffing with a shit hand, and she held pocket aces. Any sexual release he imagined he could get from her would be dictated by her.

"Mr. Speed?"

Andy closed his mouth. "Uh, yes?"

"I asked what do we do now?" Her voice was husky with arousal. She liked being in charge, he thought.

"We could watch a movie?" His voice rose at the end, sounding like a question, inviting her to veto him if she preferred to do something else. The movie was the next step in his plan. He would make his move on the couch as they watched. He had subconsciously given up on the plan; however, his brain was currently on autopilot.

"What movie?" she asked.

Andy pinched himself, forcing himself to focus, to think. "Gone with the Wind?"

Kimberly felt pity towards the creature before her. Here was the man she had harbored a crush for since she was 12, shaking like a leaf, barely able to speak just from seeing her in her bra. She sensed he was suffering, and her flirtations were hurting him. It would be cruel to go on.

In the blink of an eye, Kimberly's attitude changed. Mercy, some would call it. She dropped the seductress act and became the happy servant again. Business-like, she lifted him up in both hands and carried him to the couch in the living room. Before Andy's sex-addled brain could register what was happening, they were seated together on the couch, separated by a seat cushion, watching the opening credits of Gone with the Wind. Kimberly had even pulled a throw blanket across her chest, obscuring the twin mounds that had reduced him to an infantile state moments before.

Andy had not really wanted to watch this movie. He had picked it because it was Brooke's favorite movie and it was the first movie to cross his mind. He was too embarrassed, though, to tell Kimberly, so he decided to suffer quietly.

Over time, his heartrate came down and the adrenaline from the laundry room encounter subsided. He was quite cold without his clothes, and shivered in his half-nakedness.

Kimberly saw Andy shiver and, unbidden, took him underneath the arms and placed him on her lap, facing the TV. She spread the throw blanket over her waist, tucking him in against her flat belly.

Andy was surprised at how gentle and motherly she was. She had shown true affection—not lust—in moving him onto her lap to keep him warm. Perhaps she was turning over a new leaf in her treatment of him, as in no more teasing. If she was, he was both relieved and disappointed. But it did not surprise him at all. Before he'd seen this sexy side to her, Kimberly had always been perceptive and accommodating of others' needs. She had always been mature beyond her years in that regard.

"Thank you, Kim."

"You're welcome, Mr. Speed." She rested her large hand on his chest, another source of warmth, and they settled in to watch the movie.

Some minutes passed, and Andy forgot he was in Kimberly's lap, nestled against the body he had been lusting after, a millimeter's worth of tight fabric between himself and her privates. Her breathing had slowed, and now she was snoring. He tried to look up at her, but all he saw was the undersides of her bra cups.

Quietly he pulled out from under the throw blanket and crawled off Kimberly's belly onto the couch. From this angle, he could see her eyes were closed. She was fast asleep. He didn't blame her. Gone with the Wind was a pretty shitty movie.

Andy knew if he were take advantage of Kimberly on his own terms, now was the chance to do it. Her black shorts were painted on her delectably firm thighs and butt. The smooth swells of her magnificent breasts called out to him, beckoning him to slide his small body between their giving forms.

But he didn't have it in him, not after the way she treated him since the laundry room, probably not ever. Here was a girl that he would always think of as a second daughter. To despoil her to satisfy some erotic fantasy would be a scumbag thing to do.

That, and what about his wife? He loved her dearly, but as he'd lost stature he'd somehow lost his feelings for her. At the beginning of this process, Andy and Alecia had assured their daughter Brooke that Daddy was the same person, no matter how tall or short he was. Andy was beginning to appreciate how difficult a standard that was to maintain. Shrunk to less than half his height—and with a lot more shrinking to do—his thoughts and feelings towards his world had completely changed, to the extent that he had planned to cheat on his wife with his daughter's best friend.

Unfortunately for Andy, while he was thinking about his life, Kimberly had grown hot and uncomfortable. Still asleep, she pulled the throw rug off her lap and slid down the back of the couch to rest her shoulder against the cushions. Then her shoulders rolled over until she lay on her chest, trapping Andy under her.

Andy didn't know what happened, just that he was under Kimberly, pinned to the couch somewhere between her hip and armpit. When he opened his mouth to breathe, the teen's supple flesh filled his mouth. The gripping fear of being killed under daughter's best friend's body kicked in.

Andy thrashed his limbs. Only the lower half of one leg was free, and he kicked frantically, hoping to wake the giant girl up. He managed to twist his head to the side, but whatever air he managed to suck down was stale and warmed by her hot skin. He noticed the pressure on his chest, which made any air making it to his lungs all but impossible. He started to feel light-headed. He knew he didn't have much time left. He screamed and kicked for what felt like minutes.

Over his screams he heard a buzzing sound, then movement from above. Andy’s flesh prison ascended as Kimberly sat up and adjusted her breasts, which had fallen partway out of their cups in her sleep. Peering through her cleavage, she saw the little man on the couch, his skin bright red, gulping air.

Her hand went to her mouth. "Oh my gosh! Mr. Speed, I'm so sorry!" She fell to her knees next to the couch. "Are you all right?"

Andy coughed the warm, putrid air out of his lungs and relished the cool, oxygen-rich air of the living room.

"I can't believe I did that!" she said, eyes welling with tears. "I'm so sorry!" She started sobbing.

"I'll be fine," Andy said, sitting up after a minute. "I was more scared than anything else. I don't think I would have actually suffocated."

His reassurance wasn't very reassuring. She prodded his limbs with her fingers, inspecting each one. "Did I break anything?"

"Just my pride," Andy said with a wry smile. "Seriously, Kim, don't blame yourself. I should have told you I was moving. From now on, I'll stay where you put me unless I tell you otherwise."

"Oh, Mr. Speed!" She scooped him up in her hands and hugged him to her chest, kissed him.

Andy reveled in the sensation of being held close against her, inhaling her sweet perfume, her large lips smacking against his face. The sensations of the last 5 minutes were making him delirious.

"Easy, easy. You can set me down now." She set him gingerly on the couch. "What made you wake up?" he asked.

"It was the washer. It buzzed, so the spin cycle must be done."

Andy couldn't believe it. She hadn't felt him struggling underneath her. He was saved by the washer buzzer.

"Why don't you put the clothes in the drier. Don't worry, I'll be fine here by myself."

She looked reluctant to leave him. She stood up and ran to the laundry room, threw the clothes in the drier, and returned to his side as quick as she could.

"Tell me how I can make it up to you," she said, in a protective, almost commanding tone.

Andy by now had caught his breath. "Kim, it was an accident. You don't need to make up anything. These things happen all the time to men with my condition."

She sat back on her haunches next to the couch. "Men with your condition," she echoed. His words seemed to give her an idea.

"Kim, what are you doing?"

She was crawling onto the couch on her hands and knees, moving deliberately towards him. "I'm going to make it up to you, Mr. Speed." That husky, seductive voice. Where did she learn that? Or was it natural to her?

"Kim, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I know what you like, Mr. Speed. You told me yourself." She moved over him, pushing him onto his back. Her neck and collar bone passed over his body.

"Kim," he said plaintively, his sense of powerlessness rising to despair. "Please—"

"Shh, it's okay. Just relax. Let me make you feel better. I know this is what you want. This is my gift to you."

Andy's eyes widened in astonishment as she dragged her soft breasts over his diminutive chest. The red bra was not made for such acrobatics, and struggled to hold them in as gravity pulled them toward the couch until they formed a crawlspace narrower than his shoulders.

"You can play with them if you want," he heard her say. Her voice seemed distant, muffled by the mass of her imposing bosom.

They hovered over him, tantalizingly close. Even though they were touching him, caressing his chest and shoulders, he knew there was more weight than he was feeling. She was holding back—for his safety. That mortal fear kicked in again, but this time tinged with the eroticism of the moment. He tilted his head down. He couldn't see past his waist. She was so close, he felt like her cleavage was going to swallow him up. He wanted to touch her, to bury his body deep into her flesh—

But he couldn't. He couldn't do this to her, no matter how much she wanted him to.

Kimberly's body jumped in surprise as the sound of the front door slamming shut sounded throughout the house. "Sorry!" she whispered, and Andy's world turned to darkness as she flattened herself against the couch, hiding him under her chest and thighs.

"Hey love," Brooke said, entering the living room.

"Hey," Kimberly said, acting natural. "Slow day at the mall?"

"No. I switched shifts with that guy, Eric, so I'll be working like 12 hours next Tuesday. Hey, Gone with the Wind!"

Kimberly twirled her hair. "Yeah. I haven't seen it in ages."

Brooke watched the TV screen for a minute. "Have you seen my dad?"

"No. I think he slept in. He slept in yesterday, too."

Brooke snickered. "Or maybe he's somewhere around here and you just haven't seen him."

"Ha," Kimberly said. "That would be embarrassing."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure your boobs are as big as he is now." Brooke looked askance at her. "Bet you would like that."

Kimberly blushed. It had been years since she had talked about her attraction to Andy with Brooke, but a best friend never forgets.

"I'm gonna go change," Brooke said.

As soon as she disappeared up the stairs, Kimberly raised herself on her elbows, revealing a very red, very angry-looking little man underneath her.

"I'm so sorry!" she whispered.

He sat up, glaring daggers at her. "Why'd you do that? It wasn't any fun the first time."

She moved onto the floor beside the couch so she wasn't towering over him. "You didn't hear? Brooke is home! She almost caught us."

"What do you mean, 'us'? I asked you not to… do what you were doing."

"I was just trying to make you feel better." Who is he kidding? she thought darkly. He wanted her, whether he would admit it or not.

"Well, thanks a lot," he said bitterly. He stood up and brushed off the dust from the couch cushion that had stuck to his sweaty body. "Wait, where's Brooke now?"

"In her room changing clothes. She thinks you're in your room." She lifted him up by the armpits. "We need to get you to your room."

"Hey—" Andy started to protest, but Kimberly already had him riding on her hip and was moving quickly towards the stairs, her long, coltish legs requiring only four steps to cross the room.

"Sh-sh," she said, treading softly up the stairs. The hallway on the second floor was clear. The door to Brooke's room was shut. Kimberly tiptoed past Brooke's room and pushed open the door to the master bedroom.

"I'll bring your clothes later," she whispered, hurriedly depositing him on the carpet. He stumbled forward and struck his chin on her leg above the knee. Her expression was a mixture of mortification and embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said for the umpteenth time.

With that, she backed out of the bedroom and shut the door.

It was Friday night. Typically that meant dinner with the family at a restaurant and a trip to the movies, but since Andy caught the shrinking disease, they'd been dining in and playing cards. Despite the break in routine because of his reduced size, it felt like old times, just the three of them.

Saturday Andy spent the day with Alecia, generally avoiding Kimberly. They had acted cautiously around each other since the close call the day before. For his part, Andy didn't know what came next for them. Could he control himself around her? Could SHE control herself around him? He had been in the grips of such maddening lust, he was capable of lapsing back into it at any time, if Kimberly were to repeat her couch tactics or something equally devastating. He knew if something like that happened again, it was only a matter of time before he answered her flesh with his. And that frightened him.

The situation reminded Andy of how he started learning about girls in his late teens. Before he met Alecia, sometimes there was a certain girl in his life whom he was infatuated with. He would be recklessly in love with her one day, with the Wedding March playing in his head, and he would hate her guts the next day, if she had done something—anything—that signaled disinterest. He recognized a similar dynamic with Kimberly. He had to have her or he had to have nothing to do with her. There was no in-between.

Saturday night, with both girls out of the house, Andy and Alecia had a grown-up talk.

"Kim told me what happened on the couch yesterday," she opened.

Andy blinked. Uh-oh. What had Kimberly told her? How much did she tell? "What do you mean?" he said, playing dumb.

"Andy! She almost crushed you."

"Oh, yeah." Twice, he didn't say, and the second time was deliberate. Kimberly must have prudently left out those details.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I guess I was embarrassed."

"Andy, you need to take this seriously. You need to factor your new size into your decisions. This shrinking thing is going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

Andy didn't like her condescending tone. "What do you want me to do, Alecia? Stay off the couch? Avoid normal-sized people for the next 2 months?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Staying off the couch is a start. And I think it's time we find a new place for you to sleep. All it would take is for me to roll over in my sleep and you'd be dead."

He looked around the bedroom. "Like where?"

"I was thinking I'd get Brooke's crib out of the attic—"

"A crib?! I'm not a child, Alecia!"

Her voice was stern and guttural, suppressing anger. "You need a child's protections, dear, if we're going to keep you safe."

He tried to imagine how sleeping in a crib would play out. "Assuming I go along with the crib idea, how would I go the bathroom at night?"

"Pretty soon you won't be able to go to the bathroom on your own. Get it?"

She had a point, and it unsettled Andy deeply. In the future he would be dependent on others for EVERYTHING, even to take a leak.

"We can try it," he said defeatedly.

"That brings me to something else. About Kim. I think we're very lucky to have her help around here."

Andy stared at her as if she was speaking an alien language. "Huh?"

"Hear me out before you say anything. I think it's a blessing in disguise that her parents kicked her out. She can stay here and take care of you while Brooke and me are at work." She paused to register his reaction. "I know we told her she could stay until she found an apartment, but I want to ask her to stay with us—until you can take care of yourself."

Andy couldn't believe it. It was the perfect solution to their problem. How could he say no? What reason could he give? She can't stay, honey, she's too sexy, I don't trust myself around her. Yeah, right.

Andy's mind lit on the couch incident. "But she's a total klutz. She almost killed me on the couch."

"Kim assures me she learned her lesson and she'll be more careful. Frankly, that you've already had a close call makes me confident she'll be extra careful around you."

Andy sat before his wife, dumbstruck. His wife was telling him that the girl with the flawless skin and the 38F+ breasts and the legs of a thoroughbred, the girl who effortlessly dominated his thoughts, HAD to stay with them. Alecia must look at Kim and still see the 12 year-old girl Brooke invited over to play, Andy thought. Which was plausible. Until a few weeks ago, he didn't see Kimberly any differently than his wife did.

"Hey," Alecia tilted Andy's chin so he was looking up at her. "I know it seems like you can get along on your own now, but you're going to get a LOT smaller. You still have 40 percent of the height you started with. The doctor said you won't start to recover until you get down to between 1 and 3 percent of your original height. Won't you be glad to have Kimberly around then?"

The image of Kimberly literally holding him in the palm of her hand, eyeing him like a piece of candy, flashed in Andy's mind. He shrugged it off. "I bet if we asked Brooke to quit her job to stay home with me, she would."

Alecia pursed her lips. "Brooke wants to pay for a new car. We decided as a family that's what she'd work towards over the summer before going to college."

"Dammit, then the plan should change! Look at me!"

Alecia stayed calm. "With Kimberly working nights at Twin Peaks—" She shook her head in mild disgust. "—we know someone capable will be here in the morning and afternoon when you need them."

Andy was dejected. It sounded like Alecia had worked all of this out on her own. When did he lose his say in the arrangements? When I became an insignificant pipsqueak, he thought.

"Are we in agreement?" she asked.

Andy accepted his powerlessness over the situation. "Yeah."

"Good." She sighed. "That brings me to the hardest part." She took his small hands in hers.

Oh boy, what next?

"The law firm I'm working for has a hearing in Virginia starting the week after next. A government client is going on trial in federal court. They want me come."

The hits, they just kept on coming. "But you just started a week ago."

"I told the partners my reservations, and they heard me out. They offered me a raise."

Andy's ears perked up. "Really? How much?"

"I'll be making double my salary while traveling, plus travel expenses and a $1,000 bonus if they win the case."

Andy scratched his head. "Wow."

"I know. What do you think?"

Andy's mind turned. "How long will you be gone?"

"Sunday afternoon to Friday night. Maybe Thursday night, but that's a long shot.

"Sunday to Friday," Andy said. "So I'll be about 16 inches tall when you leave—"

"And 10 inches when I get back on Friday."

He nodded. "I… think the girls can manage that."

"Forget the girls. Can YOU handle it?"

Andy shuddered. He felt very lonely all of a sudden. He touched her long, warm leg, which was tucked underneath her.

"I think so."

"I love you." She leaned over and kissed him on top of the head.

"I love you, too. Alecia?"

"Yeah."

"We're gonna make it through this."

She kissed him again. "I know."

After midnight Sunday night, Kimberly arrived home from work, exhausted. It had been a long night serving drinks to rowdy men and getting ogled every second and occasionally hit on. But the tips were really good. Tonight she had finally made enough money to afford a deposit and first month's rent on a single-bedroom apartment.

On her way to the stairs, she found Alecia asleep on the couch in the living room, curled up underneath a blanket, the bright TV screen lighting up the room. Kimberly stepped quietly towards her and noticed dried tears on her cheeks.

She turned towards the TV. On the screen a 23 year-old Andy was playing with his infant daughter Brooke on a bed. He was dressed as if he'd just gotten home from work, his shirtsleeves rolled up his muscle-corded forearms and the tie around his neck loosened.

He looks the same as he does now, Kimberly thought. A little slimmer, perhaps. A little paler. But the same.

On screen, Andy was sitting Brooke on the bed, then letting go to see how long she could stay up before falling over. Kimberly heard Alecia's laughter play through the TV speakers. She must have been behind the camera. 23 year-old Andy let go of his daughter and waited, but she remained upright, smiling at her dad. Andy pushed the bed down in front of her, and Brooke fell forward onto her face.

Kimberly giggled, but the younger Alecia in the home movie wasn't happy. "Andy!" she admonished.

"What I would give to relive those days."

Kimberly was pulled out of the home movie and back into the living room. She turned and saw Alecia was awake.

"Sorry, Mrs. Speed. I'll leave you alone."

"No. Stay. Sit." She patted the seat cushion next to her. Kimberly sat down, felt Alecia's eyes flit to her chest, and she awkwardly trying to cover herself in her barely-there Twin Peaks uniform.

Alicia passed the blanket to her. "Seems like yesterday Brooke was learning to sit up. Children grow up so fast. You'll learn when you have children of your own. Andy and I planned to have more kids after Brooke, but…" Her voice trailed off. A fresh tear rolled down her cheek.

"Mrs. Speed?" Kimberly said. Alecia met her eyes. "Mr. Speed is going to be just fine. By the end of the summer, you'll forget any of this had happened. Everything will be back to the way it was."

As she said the words, Kimberly felt sadness in her heart. Did she want things to go back to normal, before these… possibilities—for lack of a better word—opened up between her and Andy?

Alecia smiled tenderly. "That's sweet of you, Kim. But I don't think things will be the same again. Brooke is going to college. We'll be empty nesters soon." She wiped her face. "God, I didn't think I'd feel so old at 39."

Kimberly sat still, said nothing.

"You've grown up fast, too," Alecia said. "If it were any other girl working at… THAT place, I'd tell her she was out of her mind. But I know who you are, Kim. I know who your parents raised. They know, too. They're just scared for you. There's a lot of traps the world sets for girls like you, which is why your parents set boundaries. Those boundaries are practical, even if they don't seem fair. For most girls, a job that calls that kind of attention to themselves is a mistake. Not for you. If there's a girl who can manage attention without compromising herself, it's you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Speed."

She patted Kimberly's leg. "Andy and I have talked it over, and we want to invite you to stay with us. For Andy."

It took a moment for the offer to sink in. "You mean live here?" she asked.

Alecia nodded. "Rent-free. For the next 2 months or so. You've shown great patience and tenderness to Andy these past few days, way more than I would expect from a girl your age. When this shrinking thing started, I thought Brooke and I could handle it ourselves. But now I can't imagine doing it without you."

Kimberly was overwhelmed with guilt. Whoever this virtuous, trustworthy girl Alecia was describing, it wasn't her. She was a girl who lied to her parents and got kicked out of the house. She was a girl who took money from men to indulge their weakness for flesh. She was a girl who basically tried to seduce her best friend's dad, using his disease to fulfill a schoolgirl fantasy. What kind of person uses another's disease to their advantage?

"Mrs. Speed, I don't deserve the trust you're putting in me…"

Alecia's bottom lip quivered. Kimberly hesitated, realizing Alecia hadn't considered she might say no.

Alecia reached out and touched her hand. "Please, Kim. We need you."

Kimberly's heart was touched. It was like God's grace. She didn't deserve this chance, but it was being given to her anyway. She knew from experience she couldn't be trusted. But by receiving the gift of Alecia's trust, she would find it in herself to serve in a manner deserving of her trust.

"I'll try not to let you down, Mrs. Speed."

Alecia held Kimberly's shoulders and looked at her fondly before pulling her into a hug. She stifled a sob. "I know you won't Kim. Thank you."

Alecia looked at her again, a look of great warmth and pride. She let go of Kimberly's shoulders and stood up. She walked to the TV to turn it off.

"Andy has an appointment with the shrinking specialist tomorrow at 10. Use the car seat in the garage."

"Yes, Mrs. Speed. Good night."

Kimberly's eyelids lifted. The radio alarm was playing, she didn't know for how long. She turned onto her other shoulder to check the time. 9:06.

She turned off the radio and sat up, spotting the crib next to the bed. Alecia must have rolled it into the guest room before she left for work. Kimberly crawled to the edge of the bed and looked into the crib. There was Andy, sleeping peacefully like a baby, barely 2 feet tall.

She felt a warmth in the pit of her stomach that only a woman can feel. She resisted the urge to touch his cheeks, to pinch his little arms. "Wakey, wakey, Mr. Speed."

Andy stirred but did not wake. Kimberly puckered her lips and blew her warm breath directly on his face, ruffling his hair. He opened his eyes. There couldn't be many better ways to wake up. Kimberly's tousled, chestnut hair hung in strands, framing her beautiful, makeup-free face. Her bright, adoring eyes watched him intently.

"Good morning, Mr. Speed."

Andy stretched his arms and stayed reclined on his back, relishing the view. "Good morning, Kim. Did I oversleep?"

"I think we both did." Her eyes flickered down to his morning wood, tenting his boxer briefs obscenely.

Andy cleared his throat and rose to his feet. The crib bars came to just underneath his armpits.

"We need to hurry or we'll be late," Kimberly said. She reached out to pick him up, but Andy was already pushing himself up on top of the crib bars. Kimberly watched excitedly as he jumped to the top of the bed and then slid down the bedcovers, lowering himself arm over arm.

She smiled and knelt next to him, her knees hitting the floor on either side of him. "Do you need to use the bathroom, Mr. Speed?"

He gazed up at her pajama-clad form. "Uh, thanks Kim. I can still take care of that myself."

"Okay. I'm going to get dressed. I'll be in here if you need anything. We need to leave in 25 minutes."

Andy nodded and ran to the bathroom. He pulled himself up onto the toilet lid and urinated in the bowl. He walked around the lid and reached up to the lever to flush, even though you could hardly tell anyone had peed in there.

He ran to his bedroom and went straight for the bottom dresser drawer, the one with all his little clothes. Placing both feet against the dresser, he pulled on the edge of the drawer until it slid open a few inches. He vaulted over the side and found his clothes in the right size.

He wanted to eat something before they left, so he ran to the top of stairs and was about to jump down. But he stopped and looked at Kimberly's room. She thought he was still upstairs. If he wasn't where she thought he'd be, she'd have to look for him. He should at least tell her he was going to the kitchen. Better yet, he should just wait and go downstairs with her. This was part of his new thought process, to help others help him.

Kimberly's door was partly closed but open enough to allow him through. "Kim, before we go can I get—"

His mouth stopped working after that, as he witnessed a pair of blue jeans sliding up Kimberly's shapely legs and settling above the flare of her womanly hips. But not before he mentally recorded the pink panties that receded into the cleft of her butt cheeks.

Kimberly turned around as she was buttoning her jeans. "What, Mr. Speed?" As if him catching her in her underwear was completely normal.

"I was saying, ah, those are really nice jeans!"

She looked over her figure in the mirror. "Thank you."

"And that's a very nice blouse you have on, too." She would make any blouse look good.

"Thank you, Mr. Speed." She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "Are you ready to go downstairs now?"

Andy rode on her hip to the kitchen. She perched him on the counter while she got him a cereal bar and a cup of water, while making a quick snack for herself. She found the car seat and tried to install it in the backseat of her car in the driveway.

Andy was standing on the backseat, watching her struggle with the car seat. "Tighten this strap first. Now put your weight into the seat and pull hard on the other strap," he advised her, remembering how it worked when Brooke was little.

With the car seat finally secure, Andy climbed in. He gawked at the pillowy bulges of Kimberly's breasts as she pulled the straps over his chest and buckled him in. She stuck her tongue out at him and flicked him in the forehead with her finger.

"Hey." He tried to grab her, but his little arms couldn't reach her. He was strapped in, so he wasn't going anywhere until she let him out. Kimberly chuckled as she shut his door and got in the driver seat.

"Which way to the doctor's, Mr. Speed?"

"Your blood looks very average, Mr. Speed," the doctor said cryptically.

"Average is good," Andy said. "Can you tell how short I'll get?"

"Not until the analysis of the bacteria responsible for your shrinking is complete. We'll call you tomorrow with the lab results. But what I'm seeing here is a good red blood cell count, a good white blood cell count, a good iron count, no evidence of any other pathogens. You've told me you're eating well, it doesn't hurt when you urinate, and you've experienced no dizzy spells." He shut Andy's file. "For a shrinking man, you're in perfect health."

Andy let out a sigh of relief. "That's good."

"How have you been sleeping?"

"About 10 hours every night."

"Any midday naps?"

Andy shook his head.

"You're entering a critical period of your shrinking, Mr. Speed. Even though you've already lost 96 percent of your weight, the weight loss over the next 2 weeks will proportionally be much bigger than before."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked.

"Suppose that you shrink down to an inch tall. Well, given what we know about the pace of your shrinking, and how abruptly the shrinking starts and stops, you could lose over 80 percent of your body weight in that last day."

"That's going from 2 inches to 1 inch tall in 1 day?"

The doctor nodded. "Only about 20 percent of men get that small. You'd weigh a fraction of an ounce. You could literally mail yourself to anywhere in America for the price of a postage stamp. I wouldn't recommend it, though."

"People have tried that?"

"Sure. I've read reports of men trying to sneak on planes in their wives' carry-on luggage, another report of a man hiding in his wife's bra."

"Wait a minute. In her bra, like in the bra cup?"

"Sure, or in her cleavage, wherever he fits."

Andy's mind reeled. Alecia was flying to Virginia in a week. He imagined riding in her bra cup, his body hidden under her soft breast as she underwent one of those annoying patdowns at the TSA checkpoint.

"Anyway, Mr. Speed, what I'm getting at is, even though you feel tiny already, the worst of the shrinking pains is still to come. Don't be alarmed if you start sleeping 12 hours, sometimes 16 hours a day. That's rest your body will need when it starts burning energy to regrow. Have you made proper arrangements at home for your care?"

"Yeah."

"Have you taken advantage of the free counseling your health insurance provides?"

Andy scoffed. "I don't need a shrink. I just need my body back."

The doctor pursed his lips, looked ready to make an argument, but then let it drop.

"In my experience, Mr. Speed, it's about this time in a man's prognosis that he starts asking about sex."

Andy stared at him.

"In many cases I've seen, the man, if he's married or has an active sexual lifestyle, will try to abstain from sex until he's returned to his normal height. But there are two problems with this. One is time. Four months may not seem like a long time, but when you can't feed yourself, can't clean yourself, can't do anything without someone's help, that 4 months can drag on and on."

"What's the other problem?"

"The man's new stature presents novel sexual opportunities that are too irresistible to pass up. Now, there are pros and cons to sex at a reduced size. Care to hear them?"

Andy shrugged. "Why not?"

"I'll start with the pros. Number one, it's a great workout. Men can get lazy when they shrink, and who can blame them? They feel powerless, they have no control, no reason to work for anything. Number two, sexual stimulation makes you happy, and it makes your significant other happy. Sex produced endorphins that strengthen your body for regrowth."

"Okay. You sold me. What are the cons?"

"You could die."

Andy laughed.

"Seriously. I've had a patient die because his girlfriend crushed him under her butt. When the police asked her why she did it, you know what she told them? 'He asked me to.' Actually asked her to sit on him, someone 10,000 times more massive than him."

Andy wasn't laughing now. He'd almost been crushed without the benefit of having sex when it happened.

"So what do you recommend?"

"Have sex, Mr. Speed. Just don't be stupid."

Kimberly accepted Andy from the nurse and carried him through the waiting room to the car outside. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"I'm as healthy as a 2-foot man can be," he said self-deprecatingly.

"That's good."

He also recommended I have more sex, Andy was tempted to say, but didn't.

After they got home, Andy asked Kimberly to make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She ended up eating the sandwich herself and cutting off a quarter of it for him.

"I haven't eaten one of these since I was little," Kimberly said. She was sitting at the kitchen counter, while Andy was sitting on it, cross-legged, facing her.

"Are you saying little people have a thing for PB and J?" Andy said.

Kimberly smirked. "Aw, did I offend you?"

Andy regarded her. He liked the rhythm they were in. Now would be a good time to clear the air between them, which had so recently been clouded with sexual tension.

"I want to apologize to you, Kim."

She took a bite of her sandwich. "For what?"

"For my behavior the other day. Here in the kitchen. I was trying to do something I ought to not do."

Kimberly felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She was wondering when he would bring it up. "You don't have to apologize, Mr. Speed. You already told me why you did it, before it happened. It was my fault for… for thinking you'd want to take it further."

"I did, for a mad moment. I came very close to making a terrible mistake. It's to your credit that I didn't."

Kimberly keenly felt disappointment at these words. A "terrible mistake" is not how she would have described how she felt about him. To express her affection to the kindest, most handsome man she knew, that was not a mistake. But she knew what he was referring to: his family. He had a life with his wife and daughter that was more important to him than she was. Kimberly tried to suppress the surge of jealousy rising in her stomach.

"Well, it's not like you could have stopped me," she said thoughtlessly.

Andy shuddered. There it was, all her cards on the table. She was large and in charge.

He wiped a hand through his hair. "Even now, it's hard."

Kimberly's eyes darted to his crotch before she realized what he meant. "Oh," she said, sitting up straight. She had been eating with her elbows on the counter, the edge of the counter pulling her blouse tight over her bust, creating an impressive overhang. "Sorry."

But she wasn't sorry. She got a thrill from the way he looked at her, from being desired by him.

"Well, what do we do?" she asked.

"We both need to stay disciplined."

She stuck her tongue in her cheek skeptically. "Sounds simple."

Keeping her eyes on him, she pushed the stool away from the counter and planted her feet on the kitchen floor. She grabbed her dish and walked it over to the sink. She felt his eyes follow her across the room, burning into her backside. She prayed for patience. "Discipline, Mr. Speed."

Andy looked away. "Oh, right."

She turned around to face him, spreading her hands wide on the counter. "Your wife talked to me last night, Mr. Speed. She trusts me to take care of you. If I can't do that without you cheating on her with your eyes every second you're around me, this isn't going to work. I can't be responsible for your infidelity."

Andy clocked her chest before looking into her face. "Right, right."

Exasperated, Kimberly raised her hands to her neck and started to unbutton her blouse. "Does it feel hot to you?"

"What? Kim—"

"I must have forgotten to turn the A/C on when we got home." She unfastened the third button of her blouse and popped her collar, exposing her white bra and some dark cleavage.

"Kim, stop. What are you doing?"

"Just following your example, Mr. Speed. Would you like a better look?" She cupped her hands under her heavy breasts and pushed up, causing them to balloon cartoonishly up to her collar bone.

"That's enough, Kim," Andy said sternly.

She let her breasts fall back into place. Her face burned with shame and frustration. "You have no idea how it feels to be looked at by you. You can't keep flirting and then hide behind fidelity to your wife when I flirt back because you can't handle it."

Andy took a deep breath to calm himself. "What you and I are doing are not on the same playing field."

"You know what I mean. You compliment me all day with your seductive stares, then cry foul when I play up what you obviously find attractive in me. It's hypocritical."

"No it's not," Andy said defensively. "It's apples and oranges. You said it yourself, I couldn't resist you if I tried. Look at me. I can't do anything."

Kimberly balled up her fists, her blood boiling. "So this is your rationalization for making me responsible for all the… the stuff between us. It's more complicated than that, Mr. Speed. YOU have an effect on ME, too. And your size is not a license to toy with my feelings for you!"

Her voice rose to a shrill cry at the end of her tirade, and she ran out of the kitchen in tears.

Andy felt Kimberly's scorn all day Tuesday. She didn't look at him, didn't say a word to him, hardly even acknowledged him except when he asked for food or water. Even her movements, so accommodating and considerate of his size just yesterday, were now quick and abrupt. Normal speed to her, but borderline frightening to him, as he had to dodge her feet several times. He learned to give the giant girl her space. He kept to himself most of the afternoon.

When nature called, he went to the bathroom. The bathroom light was on and he found Kimberly in there, applying makeup to her face.

"I have to pee," he announced.

"I don't mind," she said coldly, not looking away from the bathroom mirror. Andy climbed onto the toilet lid. With his back to her, he drew his little pants and boxer briefs down and let loose a thin stream of urine into the toilet bowl.

Maybe it was a good thing that she hated him now, Andy thought. Killing the possibility of a romantic tryst now would prevent a lot of heartache later. She could move on from her schoolgirl crush and focus on fostering relationships with boys her age, and he could put her back in the realm of fantasy where she belonged.

He flushed the toilet and then climbed on top of the water tank. He ran and jumped the 2-foot gap to the edge of the sink. Kimberly hardly paused to register his new position.

"What's with the eyeliner and the lipstick? I thought you had the night off," he said.

"That's right."

"So what are you getting dolled up for?"

"If you must know, Mr. Speed, I have a date."

He hated how she said "Mr. Speed." She used to say it respectfully. Only recently had he heard her whisper it affectionately. Now it dripped with scorn.

"A date," he echoed. Could she move on from relationship drama that quickly? he wondered. It seemed unlikely, given her inexperience. Probably she was taking revenge against him.

"With who?" he asked.

She looked down at him. "Why? Are you jealous?"

"I'm not jealous, Kim. I'm trying to protect you."

She chuckled and turned back to the bathroom mirror. "You protect ME? That's hilarious."

"Who is he, Kim?"

"A friend of yours, if you must know."

The color drained from Andy's face. "Not Paul."

She organized her makeup kit and held it loosely in her left hand. "Why not?"

"Because he's a creep, Kim. He's almost as old as me."

"So? You're not too old to be attracted to me."

She had him there. Andy tried a different tack. "He doesn't care about you, Kim. He—"

"Oh, and you do? That's what makes you different?"

"Forget about me! Paul's a womanizer. He has a new girl every other month. He doesn't want to get to know you. All he wants is to get in your pants."

"Well at least he knows what he wants!"

She left the bathroom in a huff. Andy gave chase. He jumped on the toilet paper roll and hung onto the bath tissue as it unrolled to the floor.

He ran to the hallway and pounded on the door to her room. "Kim, we're not done talking!"

"Yes we are," her voice came from the other side.

Andy sighed and slumped against the wall. Brooke wasn't this headstrong. Then again, he'd always been bigger than her.

Andy waited outside Kimberly's room for what felt like hours. He was dozing when Alecia got home and plodded up the stairs with her briefcase. She stopped when she saw him. "Hey, what's going on?"

Andy stirred awake. "Uh, nothing. Just resting."

"In the hallway? Not the safest place to catch some Zs, Andy," she said disapprovingly.

"I was waiting for Kimberly to come out of her room," he said lamely, standing up.

Alecia knocked on the door. "Kimberly."

"Just a minute," the teen called from within.

A moment later she opened the door, stunning Andy and Alecia with a shimmery, blue-gray dress. The dress complemented all her winning features. The thin straps highlighted her graceful neck, broad shoulders, and long, willowy arms. The matching belt showed off her large, perky breasts and slim waist. The short hemline ended above the knee, featuring her fantastic legs and just a hint of her muscled thighs. Even the color worked well with her natural, sun-kissed tan. She wore matching shoes with a decorative floral pattern and modest 2-inch heels, bringing her total height to 5 feet, 10 inches.

In short, she was a vision.

"Don't you look pretty!" Alecia said. "Do you have a date?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"A boy from school?"

Kimberly glanced at Andy, standing far below them. "Yes."

"Oh, that's wonderful." Alecia glanced at Andy. "He was waiting in the hallway to ask you something. What was it, Andy?"

He scratched his head. "I, uh, don't remember."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I think his brain is getting smaller, too."

Kimberly snickered. "Actually, Mrs. Speed, his brain IS getting smaller."

"I can hear everything you're saying!" Andy called up from below.

Kimberly ignored him. "I should get going. I don't want to be late."

"Are you driving yourself?" Alicia asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, good. Well, good luck. Don't break his heart. Andy, I'm going to start dinner in a few minutes."

"Okay," Andy said. He watched his enormous wife step past him and walk into their bedroom. He heard Kimberly pound down the stairs behind him. He ran after her and caught up to her at the front door.

"Kim, Paul's going to take one look at you in that dress and he's going to think you want to sleep with him."

"You're crazy. Not every man thinks like that."

"I've known Paul for years, Kim. I've heard him talk about you. Trust me on this. He's going to think you want to sleep with him."

"He's not necessarily wrong."

"Kim, don't go!" But she didn't hear him as she shut the door in his face. Her heels clacked as she followed the walkway to her car. In the driver seat, she paused to consider Andy's warnings. She had absolutely no intention of losing her virginity tonight. What if Paul thought differently? What if he became pushy?

I won't let it get that far, she thought. She put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

It all went back to Kimberly's parents' kicking her out of the house. Andy knew you shouldn't push your daughter away when she made a mistake. It increases the odds she'll make another mistake, which was proving true tonight.

When Kimberly moved in, Andy's intent was to provide a sturdy, fatherly presence through this trying time. He had no idea then how much his lust could undermine that goal. He saw in Kimberly's date with Paul the culmination of his failure, which was why he was desperate to make sure she wasn't hurt. It wasn't that Paul was a bad guy. Just that young, inexperienced women weren't themselves when showered with affection by experienced men.

Andy swallowed drily. He knew that firsthand.

He ran back up the stairs and went into Kimberly's room. He climbed the bedsheets and looked around the room, looking for anything that might point him to Kimberly's whereabouts. She kept a clean room, a lot cleaner than Brooke's, so there wasn't much to go on. If it had been Brooke, he could have called the cell phone company and have them give him her location to within a hundred feet. But he couldn't do that with Kimberly, who was on her parents' cell plan.

As Andy settled down, all the reasons why he couldn't protect Kimberly entered his mind. It was a job for her father, not him. His motives might be impure. Kimberly didn't trust him. She was a legal adult. He was smaller than a midget. His wife was overprotective of him. Et cetera.

Foremost, though: He couldn't protect her from his lust, so why did he think he could protect her from herself?

He sighed dispiritedly. Kimberly's scent wafted through his nostrils. These sheets probably hadn't been washed since she moved in. For a minute, he allowed himself to envy Paul. He must have been working on Kimberly for weeks, going to Twin Peaks at least every other day to butter the young woman up. It was kind of pathetic. But it had worked.

Andy wondered if Paul had the balls to ask her out while she was at work, or if he talked her into giving him her number so he could call her later. That's how he would have played it, in his younger days.

So if Kimberly gave Paul her number, he wouldn't have called last night, Andy reasoned. She didn't get off work until midnight, sometimes 1 am. He would have called her today, when she was here at the house. Late in the morning, maybe lunchtime, to give her enough time to sleep but also enough time to get ready for their date—if she said yes.

Andy knew Kimberly had spent most of the afternoon here in her room. He looked around the room again, imagining her by herself. A paperback was lying open on the bedside table. A Terry Pratchett novel. She had good taste. He pictured her lying on her back, reading the book, when her phone vibrated. She put the book down, sat up, answered the phone. It was Paul. He was asking her out. A man twice her age, asking her on a date! Her breath quickened. She twisted her hair nervously, light perspiration on her face and neck giving her flawless skin an enticing glow—

Focus, Andy.

Dinner where? she must have asked. What time? She would have written it down. An inexperienced girl wouldn't leave the details of a big date to fickle memory. She would need to look up directions if it was a place she'd never been to. Her phone, which she'd taken with her.

Andy jumped onto the bedside table. There was a pencil next to the book, but not a scrap of paper in sight. He sighed and kicked the book. It fell to the floor, and that's when he noticed the bookmark on the table. It was a library receipt, folded width-wise. The bottom of the receipt had been torn off.

Andy knew on that torn part of the library receipt Kimberly had written the directions to her date with Paul. He made out faint indentations on the thin paper. Like a carbon copy of a check.

He grabbed the pencil and the library receipt and jumped to the floor. He spread the receipt over the book cover and held the pencil, as long as he was from head to waist, presenting the broadest part of the pencil lead to the receipt. Holding the receipt still with his foot, he wiped the pencil back and forth on the paper.

After a minute, Andy paused to see what he could make out. He had etched over about 3 square inches of the receipt and revealed two faint markings, an "M" and a "7." Her date was at 7. The restaurant started with an M.

Andy continued to work with the pencil. The indentations of an "a" and two "g"s revealed themselves.

"Maggiano's," he said to himself. An Italian restaurant, upscale. It was on a hill overlooking the city. He had taken Alecia there for an anniversary dinner a few years ago. After dinner, they drove to one of the overlooks on the hill and fooled around in the car.

Andy slapped his forehead. Would Paul attempt the same feat with Kimberly? There was no reason to doubt it.

He felt sick. He couldn't help but dote on the series of missteps he had made that led to this. He had to make it right.

He checked the alarm clock. It was 6:56.

He could call in a bomb threat to the restaurant. No, that wouldn't work. Paul would just suggest another place to eat. And if the restaurant had caller ID, they would call the police and Andy would have some explaining to do.

There was no choice. He had to get to the restaurant.

He ran to the office. His cell phone and wallet were on the desk next to the computer. He looked up a taxi service online. He rang them and gave them the address for the house on the corner. "I need the car as soon as possible. When can you get here?"

7:30, the man said. Andy hung up and jumped to the floor. He ran downstairs to the kitchen, where his wife was in the midst of dinner preparations. Andy slowed down to catch his breath before walking up to her.

"Hey, honey."

Alicia's head darted up, eyes scanning the floor until she spotted him. "Hey, Andy." She wiped her hands on a dish towel and lifted him to the counter next to the range.

"Isn't it great that Kim's going on a date?" she said, continuing with her preparations.

"Uh, yeah," Andy tried to say enthusiastically.

"I'm so glad she's going out with a boy her age, and not some money-throwing lecher she met at work."

Andy shook his head in mock-indignation. "Cradle-robbing perverts."

"Amen." She smiled at him. "I hope you brought your appetite. I'm making spicy chicken and potatoes and gravy."

Andy grimaced. His favorite. He would have to make it up to her later. "Actually, I was thinking I'd go to bed. I'm really tired."

She looked disappointed. "Oh. Okay. Everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just feel tired is all." He yawned, not too theatrically.

"Well, the doctor told you to expect that."

"Yeah." Now the hard part. "Do you think you could move the crib into the office?"

She looked at him. "Why the office?"

"I think I'd sleep better in there. The window in there doesn't face the neighbor's dogs. They keep me up sometimes."

"Hm, I didn't hear them last night…"

Andy held his breath.

"Okay, hon, if it'll help you sleep, sure." She picked him up and carried him upstairs on her hip. She rolled the crib from their bedroom to the office and lay him down to sleep. She stood at the open door, the hallway light silhouetting her body.

"How's that?" she asked.

Andy pretended to settle in for a long night's sleep. "Good."

"Good night," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Good night," he returned. She shut the door, plunging him into darkness. He waited a minute, then climbed down from the crib. He listened at the door. She was gone.

By getting Alecia to move his crib into the office, she was much less likely to notice his absence. Now he just had to get out of here.

There was a wastepaper can between the desk and the door. Andy pushed it underneath the doorknob and climbed on top, balancing on the thin edge. He reached out to the doorknob, but his foot slipped out from under him and he fell into the can.

He stood up gingerly, knee deep in garbage. He threw himself against the side of the wastepaper can, knocking it on its side. He crawled out and on top of it. He was better able to keep his balance on the broad surface. The sacrifice in height meant he would have to jump to reach the doorknob.

He jumped and snared the doorknob in both arms. He tried turning it. Not enough torque. He tried pulling himself up one side, to turn it with his weight. He didn't weigh enough. After a minute of effort, his arms gave out and he fell to the carpet.

He looked up at the doorknob. Why had Alecia shut the door? If he couldn't get out of the office, he wasn't going anywhere. Not out of the house, and certainly not to the restaurant.

The window. Andy climbed the desk chair onto the desk. On his way to the computer monitor he passed his wallet. Of course! He needed money. Had he managed to open the door, he would have left the house without any cash. The cabbie would have laughed at him and sped away. He took out all his cash, $116, and folded it into his pocket. The desk clock caught his eye. 7:19. He needed to hurry.

He climbed onto the computer monitor. A bookcase stood between the desk and the window facing the front yard. The top of the book case was neck high on Andy. He ran and jumped and his chest slammed into the side. Stabilizing himself with his arms, he waited to catch his breath before pulling himself over the ledge. From there it was an easy traverse to the window sill.

He flipped the window latch and pulled up on the window. It creaked but did not budge. He rubbed his hands together and tried again. He managed to open it a crack, just wide enough to stick his small hands through.

Sweat stood out on Andy's head. He was already exhausted. He knew if he couldn't open this window on the first or second try, he wasn't going to make it.

He budged it open an inch on his first try. Momentum helped him raise it another 3 inches. It was enough. He squeezed his body through the window and walked out onto the hot, pitched roof.

The fall from the roof to the ground at his normal height would have scared him. Now it looked three times as far and it terrified him. The doctor had told him when he was diagnosed that falling when he was shrunk wasn't any different than falling at normal height. His body wouldn't fall any faster just because the distance looked greater. The difference was only in his mind.

Andy eyed Alecia's bushes planted against the side of the house. They were dense bushes, as he well knew from trimming them every spring. They were dense enough to slow his fall.

Andy didn't think about it long. The hot composite roof was scalding his bare feet. He threw his body off the edge of the roof and pulled his arms tight against his chest. He shut his eyes and quicker than he expected he slammed back-first into the bushes. The air blew out of his lungs and his body tumbled through stems and leaves, scratching and twisting his small body, until he stopped.

Nothing hurt—not a lot, anyway. He opened his eyes. He had stopped just a few inches off the ground. He untangled himself and walked out of the bushes. He looked up at the house. There was no turning back now.

Energized from making it out of the house, he crossed the front yard and ran down the sidewalk to the corner. The neighborhood was quiet, as people were either sitting to dinner or waiting for twilight for it to cool down.

After reaching the corner, he paced back and forth. He'd made it this far. He was going to make it to the restaurant. Now what was taking the taxi so long?

He heard a rustling behind him. He spun around. A white, black-spotted cat was frozen mid-stride on the neighbor's lawn about 10 feet away.

Andy raised his hands over his head. "Shoo!" he hissed. The cat looked at him, unimpressed. It took a step in his direction.

He ran toward the animal screaming. The feline's curiosity abated then, as it bolted across the yard. Andy kept his eye on it, and was relieved to see the cab come around the corner.

When the cab stopped at the curb, Andy looked down the street to make sure he wasn't seen. He walked onto the street around to the driver side and pounded on the door. The cabbie opened the door and peered down at him.

"You call the cab?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm Andy."

"I've never given a tiny a ride."

"You have a car seat, don't you?"

"Yeah." The cabbie popped open the trunk to get the car seat. He fastened Andy in and got behind the wheel. "Where we going tonight?"

"Maggiano's on Weathertop Hill. What's your name?"

"Mike," the cabbie said.

"Mike, there's an extra $20 for you if you can get me there by 8."

Andy wanted to avoid the restaurant's front entrance, so he had Mike drive around to the back. Mike unbuckled him and he stepped down from the taxi.

"Want me to stick around?" the cabbie asked.

"No thanks, Mike. Have a good night." Andy gave him a wad of bills.

Mike drove off, and Andy made his way to the back door. He had to wait only about 10 minutes before a bus boy opened the door to take out the trash. Andy ducked through the door and made his way into the kitchen.

The floor of the kitchen was a sticky, greasy mess. Andy hid behind a bread warmer to observe the foot traffic in and out of the kitchen. He surmised the door to the dining room was directly across the kitchen.

Avoiding the hurried stepping of feet to and fro, Andy crossed the kitchen in short runs, using the numerous food prep surfaces to hide from the cooks and waiters. When he was close to the door, he waited for it to swing open and dove through.

The lighting in the dining room was dim, which was good for him, as he scampered behind a fake plant unseen. Genial music was playing over wall-recessed speakers. He heard muted chatter and clinking silverware everywhere.

Now all he had to do was find Kimberly.

He looked out from behind the plant. About half the restaurant patrons were seated in booths, the rest at tables. Paul would have reserved a table, not a booth, he thought. A table was more romantic.

He didn't see Kimberly, but then he couldn't see half the patrons in the place. It was a big restaurant. And he was less than 2 feet tall. He would have to conduct a table-by-table search.

When the coast was clear, Andy ran under the nearest table, where three women were eating. Under the table were with three pairs of feet and three pairs of sharp, pointy heels Andy had to avoid.

He ran under the next table, a couple in their 60s, judging from her wrinkled gams.

Andy looked around at the nearby tables. It was mostly couples from here to the far wall. That's when he noticed the 2-inch blue-gray heels with the decorative floral pattern, one table away. Kimberly's heels.

Andy risked sticking his head out from under the table to get a look. He saw Kimberly, listening eagerly to something Paul was saying. She smiled and forked a piece of shrimp into her mouth. Andy clocked Paul. He had spiked his hair and was clean shaven, probably to help Kimberly forget his age. He needn't have bothered. Kimberly looked a vivacious 25 in her smart dress and tastefully applied makeup, just the right balance of blush and eye shadow to complement her features. She exuded maturity and intelligence, not to mention beauty. Paul couldn't keep his eyes off her.

Andy held his breath and ran underneath their table. Paul's feet were tapping the restaurant carpet at a million miles per hour. Kimberly's legs were crossed, with her raised foot bobbing in the air hypnotically. Andy broke his attention away from her long legs to catch what they were saying to each other.

"Did you play any other sports in high school?" she asked.

Andy snorted. Paul thought being the starting quarterback his senior year in high school made him a stud with the ladies, even now, 18 years later, and still boasted about it to male and female alike. To Kimberly, for whom high school was very close in the rearview mirror, it probably boosted his appeal.

"Just soccer, but I wasn't very good, and it was low-priority compared to football."

"I played soccer, too."

"Really? What position?" Paul sounded impressed.

"Forward. Varsity all four years."

"I wouldn't have figured you for a soccer player."

"Why not?" she asked.

"A soccer player's strength is his speed and low center of gravity. You have a high center of gravity."

Andy had to pick his jaw up off the floor. It may not have been necessary for him to come out here. Paul might sink his chances at getting laid all on his own.

Surprisingly, Kimberly responded well to the awkward, backhanded compliment—or she didn't get it, Andy couldn't tell. "I can run down anyone when I want to," she said huskily.

"Really. What about now?"

"I'm not the one doing the chasing."

Paul chuckled. "Touché."

Andy had to jump back as Kimberly's foot wiggled out of her heel and reached out for Paul's shin. He had just complimented her for having large breasts, and now she was playing footsie with him. She didn't know what she was doing!

The silence above the table was deafening. Andy yearned for someone to say something, as every second of silence seemed to assure the ending to this date Paul hoped for.

Above the table, Paul had covered Kimberly's hand with his. After determining her eyes were saying "Fuck me, Paul," he signaled to the waiter for the check.

"Wait," Paul said. "Do you want more wine?"

Wine! She's 18, Andy fumed.

"No thanks. This is the first time I've been able to keep wine down. I better not press my luck."

"It's not the only time you'll swallow tonight."

Kimberly smiled awkwardly, again seeming to not catch his lascivious meaning. This blew Andy's fuse, though. He roared and delivered a hard kick to Paul's foot.

"Ow!" Paul jumped, looking at Kimberly accusingly.

"What?"

"Did you—" Paul ducked his head under the tablecloth. Kimberly quickly smoothed her dress over her thighs to protect her modesty.

"Holy shit! Andy?"

Kimberly looked under the table. "Andy!"

Paul looked from Andy to Kimberly, bewildered. "What are you doing here, buddy?"

Andy walked out from underneath the tablecloth, a sight to behold. His face and plain, off-white clothes were covered in dirt and sweat. He addressed Kimberly. "This jerk just cracked a joke about you giving him a blowjob, Kim! That's the kind of girl he thinks you are. I told you coming on this date was a bad idea."

Paul chuckled nervously. "Andy, calm down, buddy. It was all in fun."

"How did you get here?" Kimberly asked shrilly. "Are you spying on me?"

"I'm here to take you home. Let's go, Kim, right now!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Paul said, sensing his date was at risk of ending prematurely. "Let's calm down for a minute. Kim, what's he talking about? You live with him?"

She touched her face, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I've been staying with the Speeds, helping take care of Andy since he got really small."

Paul grinned toothily. "Aw, I think he's got a little crush on you."

"Get bent, Paul! Are you out of your mind, dating a girl half your—"

"Hey, Kimberly's old enough to choose her friends," Paul said.

The patrons around them were staring. The waiter came by with the check. "Sir, is this… gentleman bothering you?" he said.

"It's okay. He's a friend." Paul fished his wallet out of his pants and left a wad of bills on the table. "I should say he used to be."

He stood up and looked expectantly at Kimberly. "Ready?"

She looked from Andy to Paul. "And just leave him here?"

"He got here on his own, didn't he? He's a resourceful guy. Let him figure out how to get back home."

Kimberly nodded acquiescently. She hooked her arm through Paul's and they walked together out the front door, into the warm night, to his car.

Andy ran after them. "Kim, think about what you're doing! Be smart!"

She looked over her shoulder, concern etched onto her face. Paul tugged on her arm, and she quickened her step to keep up with him. He held the passenger door for her.

Andy chased after Paul to the driver side. "She's just a girl, Paul. Don't you dare treat her bad."

"That's where you're wrong, Andy. She's ALL woman." He looked down at Andy with his hand on the door handle. "I can't believe you tried to ruin this night, for Kim and for me."

He opened the door and settled into the driver seat. Andy caught a glimpse of Kimberly inside.

"Kim!"

The driver door shut, and the engine roared to life.

"Jeez, I can't tell if he's your dad or a little boy with a crush," Paul said.

"Is he still out there?" Kimberly craned her neck to see out the window. "Don't run him over, Paul."

"He'll be fine," Paul said coolly, but he couldn't hide his anger. He reversed out of the parking space and sped out of the parking lot, proceeding up the winding road. A small figure clung for dear life to the bumper.

Paul parked the car a mile up the hill at an overlook. The sun was setting behind the city, and there were no other cars or people in sight. Perfect.

He smiled disarmingly at Kimberly, who he could tell was uncomfortable after the run-in with Andy back at the restaurant. They sat in silence as the sun sank towards the horizon, bathing the partly cloudy sky in orange and yellow.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.

"Yes it is," she said.

Paul took her hand and held it for a minute. He waited for her fingers to interlock his. "You are, too."

Kimberly turned her face towards him. "Thank you."

She knew it was coming, and she let it happen. His other hand reached across his body to touch her cheek. He leaned towards her, tilting her chin so her lips met his.

She pulled back after a few seconds. Paul looked intently at her, reading her face. She decided she wanted more, and she leaned into his lips.

They made out for a few minutes. He was a good kisser, and she liked the roughness of his mouth and chin. Paul's hand fell from her cheek to her shoulder, bare except for the thin strap of her dress. Then his hand moved slowly down to the curve of her hip, then up her front to palm her right breast.

She shrank away from him, breaking the kiss. "Slower," she said.

"Okay."

They continued making out. The sun fell below the horizon, turning the sky above them a red-tinged purple. Paul's hand stayed on her shoulder this time, but seemed preoccupied with pulling the dress strap down her arm.

She broke the kiss again and gave him a chastising look as she pulled the strap back over her shoulder.

"Eager, aren't you?" she said, keeping the mood light.

"I plead guilty."

"Am I going to have to discipline you?"

"Yes, please."

She laughed, regarded him for a second. He wanted to go further than she wanted, but it was hard to not keep going. He clearly wanted her. And she enjoyed kissing him a lot.

She tucked her legs underneath her and stood up on her knees. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back, hard. His hands reached around her and pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her soft body into his hard chest. His hands moved down her back but stopped respectfully shy of her firm butt.

Kimberly was getting more into it, her inhibitions beginning to crumble. Her body settled into a subtle, rhythmic motion, keeping time with the turning and twisting of her head as the kiss became more passionate. He was giving her tongue, and she gave him tongue right back.

An alien zipping sound broke her concentration. She opened one eye to see Paul's hand opening the fly of his pants, tented by his erection.

She pushed herself back into her seat.

"What?" Paul said.

"I just… I need a minute."

Andy cupped her cheek. "Kim, I need you."

She shook her head, brushed his arm aside. "Just give me a minute. I need air."

She swung her legs through the open door behind her. She stood up, shut the door, and leaned against the car. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, welcoming the air adrift on the night breeze to cool her clammy skin.

"Kim?" She looked around, startled. "Down here."

"Andy!" She lowered her voice, lest Paul hear them from inside the car. "You shouldn't be here."

"Nor should you. How's it going in there?"

Her face colored. "Okay, I guess. I think he wants me to…" She didn't finish the sentence.

"Surprise, surprise," Andy said ruefully. "What'd he say when you told him no?"

"I haven't yet."

"Well, why not?" he demanded.

"He just… he really likes me, and I don't want to… to disappoint him."

"He'll still like you if you tell him no, Kim. In fact, he'll respect you for it."

"What if he doesn't? What if he gets angry?"

"Then let him get angry. You don't owe him anything, Kim."

Inside the car, Paul was stewing. He zipped up his fly. That cock-blocking bastard Andy had scared the girl back at the restaurant, and now she wouldn't go all the way. God, she was so hot, just oozing sex and innocence from every pore, primed and ready to take his throbbing cock inside her.

Now it looked like it wasn't going to happen. She was going to come back into the car, thank him for the lovely evening, and ask him to drive her to her car. He'd get one more kiss in the restaurant parking lot, and that would be it. She'd probably accept if he asked her out again, but her initial triumph would embolden her to make him wait even longer, make him develop a relationship with her before getting serious. Just what he didn't want.

He heard her voice outside the car. Was she talking to herself? He got out and walked around the front of the car. "Who you talking to?" he said playfully.

Kimberly looked at him like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Paul clocked the small figure of Andy standing next to her.

"Oh, great," Paul said, shrugging his shoulders. "What the hell, Andy?"

"Get back in the car, Paul," Andy said.

Paul lost it. He step towards Andy. "Excuse me? You crash my date with Kim and then order me around like you're the boss of me? I don't think so."

"Please, just let us have a minute," Kimberly said.

Paul scoffed. "You're going to let this little freak run your life for you? He's not even your dad!"

"Back off, Paul!" Andy shouted manfully.

"No, you back off, Andy!"

Kimberly shrieked as Paul's foot shot forward and Andy's small body took to the air, bouncing on the asphalt 10 feet away. She wheeled around and slapped Paul hard across the cheek, making his ears ring. She reached back to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrist. She struggled to free her arm, sending them both off-balance and their bodies crashing against the car.

"Kick him in the nuts, Kim!" Andy shouted.

Kimberly thrust her knee up between Paul's legs. He gasped and his knees buckled. He stumbled into her body, trapping her against the car.

"What do I do?!" she screamed, in a panic.

"Kick him again!"

She grabbed him by both shoulders and rocketed her knee into his crotch, flattening his testicles between her toned thigh and his pelvic bone. Paul groaned hoarsely as his legs went limp. She let go of him and stepped back, letting him fall to the ground, holding his groin.

Kimberly ran over to Andy. She knelt beside him. "Oh, God, Mr. Speed, are you all right?"

Andy lay on his back, holding his chest. "I don't know. I might have broken a rib."

"We need to get out of here. Can I pick you up?"

"Yeah."

She slid her hands underneath him and lifted him off the ground like he was made of paper mâché. He weighed only 6 pounds.

"Oh, shoot. My heels and purse are in the car."

"Go get them, then," Andy said.

Holding him against her hip, Kimberly stepped around Paul, who was writhing on the ground, and leaned through the passenger door. She grabbed her purse and heels, and they started down the dark, winding road.

"What should we do about him?" she asked.

Andy smirked. "He's a resourceful guy. Let him figure out how to get home."

They followed a bend in the road. They heard Paul retching in the distance.

"I would not want to be him right now," Kimberly said.

Andy looked down at the long legs responsible for Paul's agony. "You have no idea."

It was dark when they got down to the restaurant. During the 20-minute walk, Andy regaled Kimberly with the story of everything he'd been through that night.

At the car, she put him in the car seat but surprised him by sliding in on the bench seat next to him.

"I should have listened to you, Mr. Speed. You can say 'I told you so' now."

Andy gave her a fatherly smile. How could he tell her how much her safety meant to him as a father of a girl her age? Tonight felt like redemption from his misdeeds of the past week, and the truth was he'd rarely been happier than he was right now.

"All I want to say is 'I'm glad your safe,'" he said.

"Are you sure that's all you want to say?" She scooted closer to him, her long, gorgeous body in that figure-hugging dress overwhelming his senses. Was this a signal of rapprochement between them? Andy was too cautious to assume anything.

He shook his head. "Let's go home, Kim. I'm beat."

She kissed him demurely on the cheek. "Thank you, my little hero."

Tuckered out from the night's adventure, Andy slept until noon the next day. With Brooke having the day off, she and Kimberly hung out in Brooke's bedroom all morning chatting. Kimberly told her about her date with Paul—except the parts when Andy appeared from nowhere under their table, and when Paul punted him like a soccer ball at the overlook. Kimberly's selective recollection left out the parts she was fondest of, and the story she ended up telling seemed empty to the story she knew. Thinking about Andy coming to her rescue really made her juices flow. It took all her willpower to not tell her best friend about her dad's heroics.

"Guess Paul won't be calling you back," Brooke laughed, crossing her eyes and clutching imaginary testicles between her thighs.

"I hope not!" Kimberly said, laughing with her. She added, "Your dad was right, though. He warned me about older men. I didn't believe him."

Brooke nodded soberly. "Do you still like him?"

"What?" The question took her aback. But she couldn't play dumb on an issue she had been open about with her friend in the past. "You mean your dad? A little, I guess. I haven't thought about it in a while."

Brooke pursed her lips. "I've seen him look at you when he thinks no one is paying attention. Since you moved in," she added.

"Really?" This Kimberly already knew, but it worried her that Brooke noticed it, too. "It's probably something to do with his size."

"And your size by comparison." Brooke grinned devilishly. "I have an idea of how we can tease him."

Kimberly blushed. "I don't think we should."

"Oh, come on, Kim! He's so little right now. Don't you want to mess with him? We'll never get another chance like this. I can tell you want to. Look, you're blushing!"

"Am not!"

"Are too! I bet you're dying to shake those big boobs of yours in his face."

Kimberly turned a darker shade of red. Her friend certainly understood her proclivities. The idea of teasing Andy, of intimidating him with her size and her blossoming body, which she knew he liked, aroused her. After last night, she was more infatuated with him than ever.

But she also knew there was a line he wouldn't cross with her. And she was hurting both of them for trying to get him to cross that line on his own.

Brooke expected her to jump at the opportunity to make Andy squirm, but Kimberly couldn't share her reasons for refusing. A lot had transpired in the last few days. A week ago, giving Andy a thrill would have sounded like a fun way to pass the afternoon. That was the girl Brooke thought she was talking to.

Kimberly forced a smile, accepting the role she had to play, for her friend's sake. "Tell me your idea."

Kimberly pulled her car into the mall parking lot, which for a Wednesday afternoon was pretty empty. She parked near the mall entrance and turned off the engine.

"We're here," Brooke said in a sing-song voice. She got out of the car and let her father out of the car seat.

Andy jumped down from the car onto the hot asphalt. His thin shoe soles offered little protection from the heat radiating from the blacktop. He looked up at Brooke and Kimberly, expecting one of them to pick him up.

"What's that?" he asked. Brooke was strapping on what looked like a backpack, except the pack rested on her chest and had holes in the sides and bottom.

"This is the baby carrier I'm going to carry you around in, Dad."

Andy snickered. "You've got to be kidding. I'm not riding in that thing."

"This is the easiest way to carry you around the mall, Dad. Come on. Up you go."

Her hands reached down and lifted him up. He winced as her hands pressed into his sore ribs. "Ow. Be gentle, Brooke."

Kimberly winced herself at how roughly her friend was treating Andy's fragile little body. It occurred to her that Brooke had little experience handling her father. It had been mostly Alecia and Kimberly who had taken care of his needs so far. That would change when Alecia left town on Sunday.

Brooke positioned Andy's legs and arms in the holes of the baby carrier and tightened the straps. "Hm, it's really loose."

"Babies are a lot fatter than a shrunken adult," Kimberly said.

"That makes sense. Is that too loose, Dad?"

Andy was facing out from his daughter's chest, his legs splayed out like an infant. He twisted his body in the baby carrier, trying to free himself. "Get me out of this thing, Brooke. I look ridiculous!"

Brooke smirked. "Aw, I think you look cute, Dad." She looked at Kimberly.

"You look real cute, Mr. Speed," Kimberly said convincingly.

Andy felt a little better when they reached the welcoming air conditioning of the mall. As the girls walked through the mall chatting, he even started to enjoy himself. The baby carrier was actually pretty comfortable, better than being carried over the shoulder or on the hip. Plus, most people didn't look twice at him, so he didn't have to worry about being recognized by anyone he knew. Strangers just assumed he was his daughter's baby.

The girls stopped next to a clothing store. "Kim, does your bathing suit still fit?"

"Brooke, you know my bathing suit hasn't fit since last fall."

"You should get a new one. You can't go the whole summer without using our pool."

They entered the store. Kimberly rummaged through racks of bikinis and ducked inside the dressing room with an armful of her favorites.

Andy craned his head up at his daughter, eyeing her suspiciously. He hadn't missed the scripted nature of the conversation just now. He knew they were setting him up for something. "What's going on, Brooke?"

"What do you mean, Dad? Kim's trying on a bathing suit," she said innocently.

"Uh-huh."

Inside the dressing room, Kimberly was looking at herself in the mirror. She had on an aqua-colored two-piece bikini that left little to the imagination. It was way more revealing than her Twin Peaks uniform. She self-consciously pinched the sides of her belly, where she still had a little baby fat. She began to doubt herself. They had come into this store to tease Andy. Maybe they were taking his attraction to her for granted. What if he didn't like how she looked? What if he laughed at her?

"Come on, Kim. What's taking so long?" Brooke said.

Kimberly took a deep breath and poked her head out of the dressing room. "I need a second opinion."

"Okay!" Brooke headed into the dressing room.

Andy started struggling in the baby carrier. "What? Brooke, no—"

Kimberly backed into the wall of the small dressing room as Brooke and Andy came through the door.

"Hubba hubba hubba!" Brooke exclaimed.

Kimberly posed with her hands on her hips. "It doesn't show too much skin?"

"It shows just enough."

"You think a guy would like it?"

"I don't know. Let's ask a guy. Dad, you're a guy." Brooke struggled to contain her laughter. "How does Kim look in her bikini?

Andy's mouth was hanging open. Kimberly's body was nothing short of spectacular. From the top of her pretty head to her bare feet, and everything in-between, she was a feast for the eyes, a walking, talking wet dream.

He recovered his dignity quickly. "Brooke, let me down from here!"

"Aw, don't be shy, Dad. How does she look?"

"Let me down!"

"Okay, I'll let you down in a minute. First, tell us how she looks."

"Yeah, Mr. Speed," Kimberly said encouragingly. She felt a tingle between her thighs as Andy calmed down and looked her over.

"You look nice," he said sullenly.

Brooke clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter. "Just 'nice,' Dad? I think she looks hot!"

Kimberly felt Andy's eyes on her again, and was inspired to put on a show. She rolled her shoulders back, thrusting her round breasts out from her athletic frame, filling—then overfilling—the 38F cups of the bikini top. She ran her hands across her slim waist and down her long legs, hamming it up to her friend's delight. "Don't I look hot, Mr. Speed?" she asked sweetly.

"Uh, you look very nice and hot," he conceded, shifting to accommodate his solid erection. "Now will you let me out of this thing, Brooke?"

"Lemme just check the boobs first."

Andy's voice was shrill. "What?!"

"What?" Kimberly said at the same time.

Before Kimberly could react, Brooke raised her hands to Kimberly's breasts, pushing them against her chest and squeezing them from the sides, causing them to twist and bulge in the small bikini top. Kimberly gasped at her friend's boldness. This wasn't part of the plan.

Andy pulled his head back, as he was inches from Kimberly's deep cleavage, and her soft swells exploded between his daughter's probing hands towards him like some sensual 3-D film. "Brooke, what the hell?!" he yelled.

"The top's a little tight, but it'll do." Brooke released her friend's breasts, leaving them quivering. "Now the butt."

"What?" Kimberly said.

Brooke grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. She kneeled down, and the exquisite curve of Kimberly's tapered waist filled Andy's vision until his face was literally surrounded by Kimberly's pale, round butt cheeks, which Brooke proceeded to squeeze in a similar fashion.

Andy just about lost it at the sight of Kimberly's firm backside, which needed little support from the thin, aqua-colored bottoms she was wearing. He tore his eyes away long enough to relearn how to speak. "That's enough, Brooke! This isn't funny."

"I'm finishing up now, Dad," she said. She slapped Kimberly's juicy butt as she stood up. "There. Passed inspection. Want to try on anymore bathing suits, Kim?"

Kimberly was incredibly aroused, and, scantily clad as she was, she was afraid Brooke would be able tell. It was time to end this.

"I don't think so. I'll get this one."

Brooke and Kimberly bought some Chick-fil-A at the food court and sat down for lunch. Brooke let Andy down from the baby carrier and he jogged around the mostly empty food court to let off some steam.

"We should get some ice cream," Kimberly suggested, keeping an eye on the little man roaming among the tall tables.

"Sure. Eric will hook us up," Brooke said. She lowered her voice. "Where did you learn those moves? In the dressing room back there."

Kimberly shrugged. "Twin Peaks, I guess. Some of the other girls flirt like that for better tips."

"Those moves were pretty advanced for Twin Peaks," Brooke said. "I think my dad really liked it."

"You do?" Kimberly asked. She knew, of course.

Brooke lowered her voice further. "Did you like it?"

Kimberly decided her best friend knew her well enough to tell if she was lying, so she answered honestly. "Yeah, I did."

"What did you like about it?"

Kimberly played with her fingers. The questioning was getting too intimate, but by not answering she'd only reveal more than if she did answer.

"I liked… him being overwhelmed by me… cornered, like a little mouse." Just talking about it made her wet again.

Brooke sat back in her chair, grinning slyly. "I knew it. Don't let my mom catch you teasing him. Not that you'd take it too far, but I've seen her get jealous around the women my dad works with."

Kimberly exhaled softly. This was a dangerous tightrope, being so open about her crush on Andy, especially when she was still learning the scope of her attraction and figuring out what to do about it. She felt no more of the anger at the little man for the double standard he'd tried to hold her to a few days ago. He was so small and helpless, there had to be different standards for him. He was indeed like a mouse, and how she dealt with him depended disproportionately on her feelings towards him, not on his actions. And those feelings now were the strongest she'd felt in her young life.

Again she saw a parallel with her faith. Whether man was sinful or virtuous, his life depended on God's character, full of grace.

Andy depended completely on her, and they both wanted the same thing. It was in her power to provide it. Kimberly felt the logic propelling her towards certain conclusions that troubled her. The more she thought about it, though, the more inevitable it seemed. Her heart pounded in her chest. She was thrilled and disturbed at this revelation. This wasn't who she was, was it?

A woman pushing a stroller sat down a few tables away. She set her toddler loose on the floor.

"Look," Brooke said.

Andy and the toddler stood looking at each other. The chubby, curly-headed blonde boy was about 2 feet, 6 inches tall, head and shoulders taller than Andy. The contrast in their body proportions was notable. Despite only being 8 inches taller than Andy, the boy was probably four times his weight.

The toddler had never seen a shrunken man before. He looked back at his mom uncertainly. "It's okay," she said, but her eyes were on both of them like a hawk.

Andy walked up to the boy, giddy from the surreal experience of looking up at a toddler. "Hey, kid." He stuck out his hand like he was meeting a colleague.

"High five," the boy's mother said.

He slapped Andy's hand. Andy shook his wrist. "The kid doesn't know his own strength!" He crouched into a martial arts stance.

"Doll!" the boy shouted. He stepped forward and pushed Andy in the chest. Andy fell back and landed with a thud on his butt.

Brooke burst out laughing. Kimberly felt a flutter in her stomach and fought down the urge to run to Andy's rescue.

"I'm so sorry," the mother said, walking over to her son. "Come here, Prescott. Bad boy. We don't push."

Prescott smiled at Andy as his mother led him away.

Brooke walked over and stood over her dad. "Aw, did the bully hurt you?"

"Haha," Andy intoned, standing up.

She fastened him into the baby carrier. "Let's keep you in here where it's safe."

They walked over to the ice cream shop. "Hey, Eric," she said to the young man behind the counter.

"Hey, Brooke!" the young man answered. "Thanks for covering for me yesterday."

"No problem. You remember, Kim."

"Sure. How's it going?" He nodded curtly to Kimberly.

Andy observed all this with interest. He'd first met Eric when he took Brooke on a movie date when she was a freshman and he was sophomore. He had filled out since then, had let his hair grow out. He looked more the part of slacker than nerd, which Andy pegged him as 4 years ago. Moreover, he seemed to still be really into Brooke, as he hardly looked at her taller, bustier friend.

"Who's the little one?" Eric asked, turning his attention to Andy for the first time.

"This is my dad."

Eric squinted, then his eyes widened in recognition. "Mr. Speed? You have the shrinking disease?"

"Hello, Eric. Unfortunately that's the case."

"Wow, Brooke didn't tell me. That sucks."

Andy nodded. "We're keeping it to people who need to know."

"Right."

Brooke leaned in close to Eric. "Can you hook us up with some macadamian vanilla?"

"Sure. Two scoops each?"

"Yeah." Brooke looked at Kimberly.

"Yeah," she echoed, distracted.

Eric gave them their cups of ice cream and they strolled toward the mall exit.

"You okay? Brooke asked.

"Yeah. Just a little tired, is all." Kimberly faked a yawn. "I should take a nap before going to work."

A group of girls walked through the glass doors in front of them. "Kim!"
one of them shouted.

"Hey!" Kimberly perked up at seeing her old soccer and volleyball teammates. "What are y'all doing here?"

"Shopping, of course."

"We're looking for something for Debra's birthday party," another said.

"Birthday party?"

"Yeah. She didn't invite you?"

Kimberly realized the invitation must have gone to her parents' house. "Oh, right, Debra's birthday party. I forgot. When is it again?"

"Next Saturday."

"What'd you get?" one of the other girls asked.

Kimberly pulled the aqua-colored bikini out of her shopping bag. The girls murmured in approval.

"I bet that'll give your parents a heart attack!"

Kimberly bit her lip, discomfited by the reminder that her parents had basically disowned her, and that none of her friends except Brooke knew.

Brooke was hovering on the edge of the group. Most of her friends were in marching band. Kimberly was one of her only connections to the sporty set.

"Aw, who's baby is that?" one of the girls said.

Brooke stepped forward, shedding her shyness. "This is my dad, you guys."

Shocked cries all around, and then an explosion of excited chatter.

"He's so cute!"

"Can I hold him?"

"It's the shrinking disease, right? How small will he get?"

"He's like a little baby!"

Andy found he couldn't get a word in with the girls, who fawned over him and touched his arms, legs, and hair. His gaze darted frantically between the girls' large, painted faces and their enormous, protruding bosoms. Brooke seemed to know what was happening and took advantage of this last chance to tease her dad.

Kimberly found herself suddenly on the outside of the group. Seeing all the female attention Andy was receiving, how the girls took liberties touching and fondling him, she felt a dense, dark pit of jealousy displace the soft spot in her gut she had for Andy. Because of the forbidden and secret nature of her feelings, she had to share him with others.

She was relieved when Brooke broke away from the mob of girls and started heading for the exit. "Okay, that's quite enough. My dad appreciates it, he really does."

Kimberly followed after her. "Bye, you guys."

"Bye, see you at Debra's!"

They emerged from the mall's shadow into the bright sunlight as they walked to Kimberly's car.

"I had a good time. Did you have a good time, Dad?" Brooke asked.

"It was an experience," Andy said diplomatically.

"What about you, Kim?"

Kimberly didn't answer. She had a lot on her mind.

Thursday morning, Kimberly was very… attentive to Andy. She was no more helpful than usual—that is, she was still very helpful—but she hovered closer to him than usual, innocently (or so it seemed) dominating him with her size. She was constantly on the periphery, teasing him with tight angles of her statuesque, conservatively dressed body, inviting him to imagine what he couldn't see. She watched him alertly, eager to meet any need, big or small, to the point of holding a napkin to wipe his chin during breakfast. Her behavior was simultaneously unnerving and sexy. She had something planned for him and he didn't know what.

The shrinking specialist called and reported there was a 95 percent chance Andy would shrink to between 3/4 inches and 2 inches tall, based on the blood analysis. For the first time, Andy dwelled on the possibility of being less than an inch tall.

Kimberly shook him out of his preoccupation. "I'm going to catch some rays by the pool," she announced. "Want to join me, Mr. Speed?"

"No thanks, Kim."

"Suit yourself. I'll be wearing my new bikini, if you change your mind."

It wasn't until she went outside that he realized what she'd said. The bikini she'd modeled for him yesterday? Against his better judgment, he walked out onto the pool deck.

All 20 feet of her beautiful body—proportionally speaking—was reclined on one of the deck chairs. She was rubbing oil on her arms and chest, her skin emitting a warm, lustrous glow.

"There's my little hero," she cooed.

Andy walked up to her. "Is there room up there for me?" he asked.

"Sure." She sat him next to the ball of her hip joint. Sitting up, he could just see the pool and the rest of the backyard over her legs. Her smooth thighs extended well beyond his feet.

She lowered the chair back. "Can you do my legs, please?" She put the bottle of oil next to him.

Andy looked from her pretty toes to her aqua-colored bottoms, an enormous expanse of tantalizing flesh. He stood up gamely and stripped to his boxer briefs.

"Don't want to get my clothes oily," he explained.

"Very sensible," she said. She placed a pair of sunglasses over her eyes and settled in.

Andy tipped a glob of oil into his hands and started on the side of her left thigh. Her skin was soft, smooth. Pressing hard into her he felt hard muscle underneath. She had shaved her legs recently.

He poured out another glob of oil and climbed on top of her left thigh, her flesh offering little stability for standing. He got on his knees and started rubbing in the oil, going right up to the edge of her bikini bottoms.

She sighed. "It'll take you forever doing it like that."

"How else should I do it?"

"Use your whole body."

Andy looked past her breasts at her face. Her chin was tilted down so she could see him. Her expression told him she knew very well what she was asking.

Andy's inhibitions couldn't say no to this chance of a lifetime. He dropped down on the deck chair and poured the oil out on his head, back, and chest. He climbed back on top of her and went to town, rolling over, crawling on, and otherwise practically humping her perfect pins.

"That's it, Mr. Speed," she cooed softly.

Andy was having the time of his life. Periodically he had to stop sliding against her to keep from blowing his load in his underwear. It should have taken him 10 minutes per leg, but he took double that time.

"My feet, too," she said.

Andy obliged. He rubbed his back and chest against her arches. Giggling, Kimberly spread her toes for him, and he used both hands and even his face to oil each dainty toe one at a time.

Before he finished, she pivoted left her foot forward, knocking Andy on his back. She lowered her sole on top of him, covering his groin and torso. She gently pressed and twisted her foot on his chest.

"I'm not hurting you, am I, Mr. Speed?"

"No."

"I can feel your erection on my heel. Is my foot giving you that?"

Andy wasn't into feet, but if anyone could convert him, it was Kimberly. "No, it's… it's all of you," he said breathlessly.

"Mm-hmm. Let's play a game." She pulled her leg up to vertical and ran a hand down from her knee to her firm butt.

"Climb to the top of my foot," she commanded.

Covered in sweat and oil, and hopelessly aroused, Andy walked around to her hip and crawled on top of her toned belly. Standing on the edge of her bottoms, the musty scent of her arousal hit him full in the face. It amazed him that she was enjoying this as much as he was.

Her leg extended straight up in the air, 11 or 12 feet by his estimation. The length of her leg wasn't the hard part, though. It was the slickness of her legs, which he had just coated in oil.

He started out by jumping up and locking his arms above her knee. Once he did, however, he couldn't find purchase with his feet to push himself up. He slid down and landed on his butt on her crotch.

She giggled. "Is my leg too challenging for the tiny man?" she said.

Andy crawled onto her belly again. "I've climbed harder than this," he boasted.

"Climb me, then."

He tried again. This time after locking his arms above her knee, he wrapped his legs around her wide thigh and squeezed his legs together, providing enough leverage to raise his arms a few inches up her tapering calves.

She felt his junk move up her leg. She urged him on in mock-delight. "That's it! You're doing it!"

Andy pulled his legs up and stood on the hard, narrow ledge of her kneecap. He extended his arm from her ankle to see what the best way was to reach the sole of her foot.

"Uh-oh, what's he going to do now?" Kimberly continued her teasing commentary.

Andy showed her. He shimmied up her calf an inch at a time and spread his arms over the sole of her oily foot. His chest muscles screaming, Andy pulled his legs up and rolled onto his knees. He couldn't believe it. He was standing on her foot!

He looked down at her over her toes. "Tada," he said, grinning toothily.

"Very impressive." She noticed him leering at her bikini top. She would give him something to leer at. She cupped her supple breasts together, creating a mouth-watering valley of cleavage.

"How will you get down?" she said with a teasing pout.

"I dunno. I need a big, soft landing pad."

She smiled. "I have a better idea. Hold on, Mr. Speed."

Andy felt her foot tilt towards her heel. He fell onto his chest, wrapping his arms and legs around the top of her foot.

Slowly Kimberly lowered her leg until it was parallel with the deck chair. Then her leg reversed direction, going up past vertical, then continuing until her thigh pressed flat against her belly. Andy held on tight to her foot as he was turned completely upside down, looking at the back of Kimberly's head through the gaps between her toes.

"You're really flexible," he said.

"Mm-hmm. The girls on the volleyball team called me Limberly."

"Heh."

She continued the rhythmic kicking motion. All the while Andy held on, marveling at the sensual playground her body had become for him. His erection reemerged and tickled the sole of her foot.

"Am I making you hot, Mr. Speed?" she said, not missing a beat with her kicks.

"Yeah."

"Would you like to cool off in the pool?"

"Actually, I'm kinda liking this—"

"I think you should cool off in the pool."

Andy felt her foot and ankle muscles tense up on the next downswing. Then her foot rocketed skyward as she swung her leg up hard. At the top of her leg's arc, Kimberly flicked her ankle, and Andy's arms and legs lost their grip from the overwhelming centrifugal force.

Andy tumbled through the air and hit the pool with a jolting splash. He surfaced the water, sputtering, and looked around. He had landed in the deep end, 20 feet from where Kimberly was sitting. But she wasn't sitting there now.

"Kim?" He treaded water in a circle, looking around the backyard. She was nowhere in sight.

"Kim?" he repeated. It was only a 250 square foot pool, but it seemed 10 times as big to him now. He wondered how well his small voice carried over the water. That's when he noticed a large form underneath him, getting larger.

Kimberly's head and neck rose out of the water right in front of him, eclipsing the house behind her. Her features from this close were enormous. Andy found himself looking up just to see her full, pink lips. She shook her head, flicking water droplets from her long, brown locks. It was a dazzling demonstration of her size advantage.

Her eyes settled on him, her expression intense and spookily inquisitive. "Did you like that?" she asked.

"Yeah." He could feel the movements of her limbs, conveyed by underwater currents. She was moving a lot more water than he was to stay afloat.

She dipped her mouth below the water and tilted her chin up, squirting a jet of water into his face. Andy laughed and splashed her back. They splashed at each other for a minute until she stopped.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"Not really."

She drifted away from him, into the shallow end. She never took her eyes off him. "Swim to me."

She didn't have to ask twice. Andy put his head down and swam towards her, turning his head to breathe just above the waterline, just like when he swam competitively in high school. After 20 seconds he picked his head up to see where she was. He was in the shallow end, but she was behind him, in the deep end again.

"Tired yet?" she asked, smirking.

"Not even."

Andy followed her back and forth three times. He began to lose track of which end of the pool he was in. Since he couldn't touch the bottom, his position relative to the house would have been the tell-tale sign. But with exhaustion setting in, the world beyond Kimberly and the pool's edge became blurry.

He picked his head up again, and was surprised to find himself right in front of Kimberly.

"Tired?" she asked again.

He breathed heavily, struggling to keep his head above the water. "A little bit."

"Don't move." She took a breath and dropped underneath the water. Andy watched the shadow of her body move almost directly underneath him.

Her head broke the surface of the water again, slowly this time. As the water matted her hair to her face and ears, she reached up with both hands to pull her hair back. As she did so, her long neck and toned shoulders cleared the water, glistening in the noonday sun.

Her fantastic chest followed the rest of her up out of the water. The lush expanse of her slick hills grew before his eyes. The slope of her buoyant breasts, hidden underwater like the proverbial 90 percent of the iceberg, gathered up his legs and knocked him backwards. As she rose each round orb arced over him, pushing against the aqua-colored cups by her flexing arms and shoulders. As her bikini top cleared the water, Andy was swept up against her lightly muscled belly, where her breasts rained on top of his head.

For her, it was only standing up in the shallow end of the pool. But it was no small thing for Andy. It was the most erotic experience of his life. His heart was racing even faster than before.

"Whoa," he gasped.

Kimberly looked down at him over her huge, wet breasts. "Would you like to get out of the pool now, Andrew?"

He was too mesmerized to notice her using his first name. "Yeah."

She took the back of his head in one hand, his legs in the other, and cradled him like a baby in her arms. She walked up the steps out of the pool and carried him back to the deck chair. She lay a towel on the chair so he'd be more comfortable. She set him down and sprawled out next to him on her side, so their faces were close together.

"Do you mind if I call you Andrew?" she asked.

Andy was still short of breath, but managed a simple "No."

"I figured out a way for us to both get what we want, Andrew. The only way, really."

His eyebrows furrowed. "What are you… talking about?"

"You don't have to worry that you're cheating on your wife." She drew her finger across his small chest. "You see, cheating on your wife means you made a choice. I'm not going to give you a choice."

Distracted by her big body, Andy's brain could not compute what he was hearing. "No choice?"

She nodded. "If you can't stop me, then what happens won't weigh on your conscience. It's my decision, not yours. It's the only way."

"Kim—" He tried to sit up, but she firmly pushed him down. "Think about what you're doing, Kim."

"I've been thinking about it since the night you saved me, Andrew. This is the only way I know how to tell you that I love you. I've always loved you."

Andy couldn't believe his ears. "Kim, there are a million men out there, guys who are better than me, younger than me, who want to be with you. Flirting with you has been a lot of fun, but it can't go any further. Please, don't do something you're going to regret."

"My mind's made up. This is happening whether you want it to or not." Her hand slithered down to his boxer briefs. She stroked his erect penis through the wet material. He grunted with pleasure. "You should try to enjoy it."

She was going to rape him. An unspeakable terror came over Andy. It wasn't for his sake he was concerned. He knew he would enjoy it. It was for Kimberly's sake. She was in the grip of obsession, a borderline psychosis. He hadn't seen it before in her meticulous seduction routine because he was horny as hell. Now, he greatly feared this could be a point of no return for Kimberly, a step down a path into a personal hell of infinite darkness.

"Want to make me happy, Kim?" he said, thinking very quickly.

She hooked a finger into his underwear. "Yes, I do."

"You know what would make me the happiest man in the world?"

"Tell me."

"Stop this act at once."

She pulled her finger out of his boxer briefs, which snapped back against his skin. "What?"

"You heard me. Leave me here. Go inside and take a cold shower."

Kimberly was nonplussed by this sudden turn of events. Why, only a minute ago she had him eating out of her palm. Now… what had happened? "Mr. Speed, don't you want—" She was pleading now. She had lost command of the situation.

"I want to be alone right now, Kim," he said sternly.

Her eyes darted around, frantic, searching for a way to get back on track. She scooted up the deck chair, gathering her heavy breasts, gravity nearly spilling them out of her top, next to his small body. Andy recoiled from the hungry cleavage moving aggressively towards him.

"This isn't about what you want," she said. "I told you, you don't have a choice."

"But I do, and you know it, Kimberly. That's why you haven't forced yourself on me." He rolled out from underneath her and rose to his feet defiantly. "Your conscience tells you rape is something you could never forgive yourself. Well, that's what it will take if you want me, Kimberly. I won't sleep with you of my own free will. You know why? Because I love my wife!" He raised his arms as if in triumph. "I love my wife! She's the best thing about me! And I don't plan on getting rid of her any time soon."

Kimberly drew back. It was clear to him she hadn't expected anything more than token resistance from him. But he had challenged her to actually carry out her threat, and her morals were simply too strong for her to go through with it.

She blinked, as if coming out of a trance. "Mr. Speed, I—"

"Not a word, Kim," Andy said, the adult in him in charge at last. "Go inside and take a shower. We'll talk about it later."

Kimberly looked down at her body. She darkened with shame and stood up, brushing past Andy as she ran for the back door. "Oh, God!" she cried out. The sliding glass door banged behind her.

Andy collapsed onto the deck chair and shook uncontrollably for 20 minutes.

Andy woke up feeling hungover. He looked around and saw he was in Kimberly's room, but there was no trace of the beautiful teen. The bed was made, the closet was empty, the Terry Pratchett novel was gone. Even her unique scent was absent. There was but one thing out of place: a piece of notebook paper by the door. Andy climbed down from the crib and walked over to it. He recognized Kimberly's penmanship. It was a letter addressed to him.

Dear Mr. Speed,

I can't express to you how sorry and embarrassed I am for what I've done. I was entrusted with your welfare and I abused that trust in the worst way. I pray that one day you'll be able to forgive me.

I talked to my parents last night. I've decided to quit my job and move back in with them. I clearly still have a lot of growing up to do. They know about my urges, but they don't know the details or how far I went. Just so you know, they don't blame you for anything.

I admire the devotion you've shown to Mrs. Speed through all this. You showed courage yesterday in standing up for yourself and for your marriage. I pray I will be blessed with that kind of marriage when I'm ready to marry.

Thank you for not taking advantage of me, when I'm sure you wanted to. Your actions under pressure are a credit to your faithfulness. I need to work on my faith so it will be strong, too.

Love is supposed to be selfless, not self-seeking. (1 Corinthians 13) My actions yesterday were an example of what the opposite looks like.

Don't think ill of me for not coming over to visit Brooke for awhile. I understand my temptations enough to know I need to avoid them. Maybe after you've recovered from the shrinking disease and after I've mastered my demons, we can tolerate to be in the same room together, and treat each other like normal people.

Sincerely,
Kim

P.S.: I left food and water under the crib.

Andy read the letter a hundred times. When Alecia got home, he ran to the bathroom and flushed it down the toilet. He gave Alecia a G-rated, Cliff Notes version of why Kimberly had left. She seemed happy that their daughter's best friend was reconciling with her parents, but lamented that they would have to contact the insurance company to hire someone to help Andy during the day until he attained his former height.

Andy told himself Kim's leaving was for the best, but in his heart he didn't believe it.

Andy measured a scant 17 inches Saturday. He was now shorter than a newborn baby. But he would be seriously underweight for a newborn. He weighed 2.4 pounds. Alecia had to weigh herself and then hold him with her on the scale, as his meager weight alone wasn't enough to trigger the scale.

All the mundane tasks that he'd been doing on his own he was still able to do. They were just harder. Climbing to the kitchen counter, getting up and down the stairs, eating, peeing, pooping, showering… It all was taking more and more effort and was becoming rather tedious. Especially frustrating to Andy was closed doors. After the night Alecia trapped him in the office (wink wink), he didn't even try opening doors anymore. Instead he'd lobbied to have all doors left open at least a crack so he could have freedom of movement throughout the house. This didn't prevent Alecia or Brooke from forgetting, though, forcing him to ask for their help to go places or, worse, wait for them to come for him.

To top it off, the bright spot of his shrunken days, Kimberly, was gone. Not just from the house, but from the world. She was a terrific young woman, just confused about who she was and what she wanted. If Andy was being honest, he had the same issues. He hoped she wouldn't change too much, just work on her flaws.

Saturday night Brooke was working at the mall, and Alecia was sitting up in bed working on her laptop, formatting a brief for her boss.

Andy climbed onto her pajama-clad thigh. "Honey, can we talk for a minute?"

She kept typing for a few seconds, then shut the laptop. "Sure. What is it, Andy?"

Andy decided it would be easiest if he just came straight out with it. "We haven't had sex in a long time."

She smirked. "Do you think sex is a good idea, at your size?"

"The specialist recommended it, as long as we're careful. Having sex releases endorphins into the blood, which helps the fight against the shrinking disease. And… I'm tired of jerking off by myself. I want to be with you."

She moved the laptop to the floor beside the bed. "Okay, how do you want to do it?"

Andy looked up at her. She had always been the submissive one in the sack. How could he tell her he needed her to be dominant, which she'd never been as long as he'd known her? It was so much easier with Kimberly, who was naturally confident around him in his shrunken state, and uncautious when it came to pushing his buttons.

You did not just compare your daughter's friend to your wife, Andy admonished himself.

"Take off your clothes and lie on your back," he said.

Alecia complied. She stripped to her panties and lay back against the pillows. Andy discarded his clothes on the bed and walked onto her chest.

Her head jerked up. Andy lost his balance and fell on his butt on her soft belly.

"What?" he asked.

"You didn't tell me you were going to do that."

"Sorry. I'm going to try again." He crawled between her small, round breasts. They were modest compared to Kimberly's mountains, but plenty big at his size.

Andy shook the comparison from his mind as he rested his chest against Alecia's left breast, coming face to face with her nipple. After all these years, she still had fantastic nipples. He could feel the steady rhythm of her heartbeat through her chest.

"I'm going to suck on your nipple now," he said. She loved it when he played with her nipples. Maybe that would get her in the mood.

"Mm-hmm," was all she said. She didn't sound excited.

Her soft nipple filled his mouth, and he sucked, nibbled, and pinched it to his heart's content. He felt her sigh underneath him.

"Is this doing anything for you?" he asked.

Alecia raised a hand to her forehead. "It's hard for me to get into it when I know how easily you could be hurt."

Andy crawled farther up her chest and stood on her collar bone. He looked into her eyes. "You have no idea how beautiful you are."

He got on his knees and bent over her chin to kiss her. Her pink lips were as wide as his head. He aggressively made out with her, coating his face in her saliva, trying to force her mouth open with his head.

She pursed her lips together and laughed. Andy smiled. "What?"

"I can feel your cock on my neck."

"That's because you're making it bigger." He thrust his small erection over her chin. He badly wanted her huge tongue. "I can think of a way to make it smaller."

"I'm going to sit up now."

Andy backed up onto her belly as she propped herself on her elbows. "What's wrong?"

"I know what you're trying to do, Andy. You're trying to get me to be more assertive. Maybe you'd like that, maybe that's the only way people with our size difference can make love. But I just… I can't right now."

Andy's erection started to wane. "This is so frustrating. There are like a million things I'd like to do to your body."

"But you can't do them on your own," she said, finishing his thought.

"Yeah."

"And you could tell me what you want, but you're not comfortable communicating that way."

That was true, too, but small Andy was not as shy as big Andy. "Oh, I can tell you what I want. I want you to lick me up and down like a candy cane. I want you to squeeze your boobs together with me between them. I want to go waist deep in your vagina. I want to use your legs as a slip and slide—"

Alecia was laughing. "Stop, stop." Andy stopped and waited impatiently as she composed herself. "I'm leaving for Virginia tomorrow. Why don't we start small? Then when I get back on Friday, we can try out all your kinky ideas."

That seemed reasonable. "What do you mean by starting small?"

"Let me get you off. With my hand," she added.

Andy crawled off his wife and lay on his back next to her. She shifted onto her side and ran her fingers gently up his inner thighs and over his hips, teasing his semi-erect penis.

"Can you lick your fingers?" he asked. She dipped her fingers in her mouth and resumed fondling him, twisting his penis between her wet thumb and forefinger. She blew her warm breath over his body. Andy grunted with pleasure.

Alecia removed her hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Keep going. Bring those tits closer."

She snickered. As her moist fingers continued working his shaft, she scooted her chest closer to him, her 36C breasts pressed together by the bed and gravity, forming a line of cleavage that dwarfed his torso. It was easy to forget, with Kimberly around, that Alecia's breasts were each a handful for him at his normal height. His eyes goggled as he took in her size, and his body spasmed, edging closer to the point of no return.

She stopped again. "What? Did I hurt you?"

Andy's eyes refocused. "No, you were doing great."

She covered her face with her hands. "I'm afraid I'll rip it off."

Andy scoffed. "Come on, you're not going to rip it off." Although in the back of his mind he knew it was possible, if she got carried away.

"I can't. Can you finish on your own?"

Andy rolled his eyes and masterbated under the ledge of his wife's rack. Despite his disappointment, he came hard, spurting semen on his chest and the bed. Alicia was impressed.

Shortly afterwards she put him in the crib in the office and went to sleep.

Alecia's flight left at 3 on Sunday. A nurse named Maria arrived at the house and accompanied them to the airport. She would be Andy's daytime caretaker from now on.

The lawyers Alecia was traveling with joined them in the ticket line. One was in his 50s, the other in his late 40s. The younger lawyer's wife and two kids were seeing him off. Andy got introduced to everyone, including the younger lawyer's 4 year-old daughter, who said he looked like her Ken doll. The adults except for Andy had a good laugh at that. Hardy har har.

After kissing Alecia goodbye, Andy watched her enter the security checkpoint with the lawyers. When he could no longer see her, Maria took him home.

Brooke got home from the mall and Maria left, with promises she would be back in time for Brooke to open the ice cream shop in the morning.

They didn't reach that point. Andy's cell phone rang before midnight. He jumped from the crib to the desk and answered it on speaker.

It was a Hanover County, Virginia, sherriff's deputy. Alecia was dead.

Andy and Brooke took the first available flight to Richmond, having to layover in Charlotte, North Carolina, for an hour. Brooke rented a car at the airport and they drove to the Hanover County coroner's office, attached to the regional hospital in Mechanicsville.

The sheriff's deputy who called Andy met them at the coroner's office. He explained in more detail what he had summarized on the phone last night: Alecia and her coworkers were involved in a 3-vehicle collision on I-295 at about 10 pm local time. One of the other vehicles was a 22-foot moving truck. Alecia and the younger lawyer, Robert, were dead at the scene. The older lawyer, Tom, was in an induced coma. The deputy showed them black and white infrared photos taken last night on the highway. They showed the rental car on its roof in the highway median, the front end completely smashed in. Alecia and Robert had been sitting in the front seat.

Brooke was hysterical, hearing the devastating news for the first time from someone other than her dad. It hadn't seemed real when her 16-inch tall father woke her up in the middle of the night. Now, the child's fervent hope that it was all a mistake ended in one fell stroke, and she could hardly breathe through the sobs that shook her body. Andy desperately wanted to hold her against him, to reassure her, to be the rock upon which the floodwaters broke. It was unbearable to be unable to do that while his daughter struggled to cope.

When she was calm, the sheriff's deputy escorted her to the hospital cafeteria and brought Andy back to the coroner's office.

"Did anyone in the other cars die?" Andy asked.

"No."

He choked down his anger as he asked the question he'd been thinking about all day. "Whose fault was it?"

"It was no one's fault, Mr. Speed. Robert was exceeding the speed limit and wandered too far into the next lane, according to witnesses."

"Was he drinking?"

"Blood report says he was stone cold sober. It was an accident, Mr. Speed. They happen every day."

It was a major letdown, not having someone to blame, other than reckless driving. Even that was a stretch. Sheer bad luck more than anything else had ended two lives, potentially three. Bad luck had turned his family upside down. What was the difference between Alecia dying and Alecia living? Two seconds? One second? A moment lost in time like a drop in the ocean, until it came and then was gone before you could do anything about it.

Andy started to choke up. "Do I have to identify her?"

"No, but you can see her if you like. The coroner's cleaned her up."

The deputy carried him through a set of double doors, beyond which the air was cool and smelt sterile. They entered a gray room with four long metal tables, two of them occupied by bodies covered by long, green sheets.

At the far table he pulled the sheet back, revealing Alecia from the neck up, mercifully hiding her crushed chest. Andy looked at face. Her expression wasn't peaceful; anyone who says a dead person looks peaceful is lying. The dead's faces look blank.

He hardly recognized her without the light in her eyes or the warmth in her cheeks. This body, this flesh and blood he'd shared for 19 years, was empty. She was gone.

The deputy discharged the body to Andy, and he arranged to have her cremated at a funeral home in Mechanicsville.

On their way out of the hospital, Robert's wife came in from the sweltering afternoon heat, looking as terrible as Andy felt. She and Brooke exchanged a few words, condolences mostly. Andy was in a fog. He couldn't remember what was said.

At the funeral home, Brooke asked to see the body before they torched it. They let her have all the time she needed. She held Alecia's hand and stared at her face for over an hour. Andy joined her in the viewing room and rubbed her calf comfortingly.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

"No, Daddy. I'm not okay."

"Me neither."

Brooke started to weep silently. Andy stood by her, unwilling to leave her by herself. His place as her father was right here, by her side.

"I didn't say goodbye," she said.

Andy looked up at her. "What?"

Brooke wiped her cheek, hid her face from him. "When she left to come here. I didn't say goodbye or 'I love you,' nothing."

Andy swallowed, recounting his last night with Alecia. Her hesitancy to initiate sex because of his size. His comparing her to the younger, nubile Kimberly. It was a humiliating punctuation mark to their otherwise rock-steady marriage. She deserved better.

"You can tell her now, Brooke," he said. "She can hear you. You can tell her you love her whenever you want."

She squeezed Alecia's hand. "I love you, Mom."

They were both too tired to travel that night, so they got a two-bed hotel room near the airport, intending to fly back in the morning. Brooke lay on her bed, eyes glued to the TV, but she was really daydreaming about Alecia, replaying memories in her mind.

Andy was wiped out from the day's events. He'd slept only a few hours the night before, and his shrinking body yearned for rest. But he couldn't sleep, not with so much to do. He had to plan Alecia's memorial service back home. He still had to contact Alecia's family. He dreaded that phone call to his mother-in-law, but it had to be done.

"Brooke," he said. She awoke from her daydream to look at him. "Why don't you walk down to the convenience store and get us some junk food?"

She rose wordlessly from the bed and grabbed Andy's credit card on the way out.

Andy jumped down to the floor and went to his wife's purse. He needed Alecia's cell phone to call her mother, as he didn't have her number saved in his phone. He reached down and rummaged through the purse's contents but couldn't find her phone in the mess of his wife's stuff. He pushed the purse over and dumped everything on the floor.

"There," he said, lifting the heavy phone from the middle of the pile. He heard a crunching underfoot and glanced down, just long enough to warrant a second look.

He was standing on a condom.

Four condoms, actually. Still wrapped.

It took Andy a minute to work through the implications. He and Alecia hadn't had sex since he contracted the shrinking disease. Roughly 6 weeks. She'd expressed less romantic interest the shorter he got. All of a sudden he saw their last night together from a different angle. No wonder the bitch wasn't in the mood. She was fucking some guy—probably one of the lawyers she'd come to Virginia with!

"No, Alecia," he groaned. "Please tell me you didn't…" He couldn't say the words that went with his thoughts.

He looked at her cell phone, which he still held in his arms. If she was cheating on him, the evidence would be on her phone.

He turned on the phone and navigated to her text messages. Her most recent message was addressed to Brooke, at 8:02 last night. "Just landed in Richmond. Love you!"

A tear rolled down his cheek. She wasn't dead for 24 hours, and already he was betraying her memory by snooping through her phone. But he HAD to know.

The second most recent text conversation was with Robert, the younger lawyer with the family.

Andy scrolled past several texts containing legalese. It read like ancient Greek to him. They'd last texted Saturday about the briefs on her laptop.

Then he came across some language that he could understand. "Is that all you've got counselor?" It was sent from Alecia to Robert last Thursday night at 11:20.

Andy eyed the previous text from Robert, at 11:17: "B===============>  =)"

He scrolled down frantically, reading their conversation in reverse.

Alecia, at 11:16: "What did it look like?"

Robert, at 11:13: "Your skirt made my dick so hard. I had to hide it under my desk all day"

Alecia, at 11:11: "What do you mean?"

Robert, at 11:05: "Why do you torture me so?? =("

All this was preceded by more legalese until Tuesday night.

Alecia, at 9:50: "Can't wait"

Robert, at 9:44: "I'd like to show you someday"

Alecia, at 9:41: "I wonder what it's like to be loved by a REAL man  =)"

Robert, at 9:37: "Shorty doesn't know what he's missing"

Alecia, at 9:35: "I had BIG plans for him afterwards, if you know what I mean ( .  )(  . )"

Robert, at 9:34: "That's a shame"

Alecia, at 9:30: "so I ate alone."

Alecia, at 9:29: "The little man was too tired to eat the food I made for him"

Robert, at 9:26: "That bad?"

Alecia, at 9:22: "It didn't"

Robert, at 9:18: "Just put the kids to bed. How'd it go? Tell me all the juicy details"

Last Tuesday. That was the night Andy escaped the house, the night of Kimberly's date with Paul. Alecia was trying to rekindle their romance, but he'd been too preoccupied with Kimberly's date to see it. She'd made his favorite meal, too. Andy's disinterest had driven her to make herself feel better by attracting the attentions of another man.

Andy felt sick. It was entirely possible Alecia hadn't cheated on him. There was no evidence in these texts that they had done the deed. She was probably thinking about it. Planning on it, maybe. Just as he had thought about sleeping with Kimberly, and had come awfully close—twice—to following through with it.

He dropped the cell phone and slumped to the floor, shaken by the sham his marriage had become in what he had no idea were its final weeks.

When he was all cried out, he pushed everything back into Alecia's purse, except the condoms, which he flushed down the toilet. Brooke would never know what he just learned.

She returned with bags of soda, assorted chips, and candy. They sat on Andy's bed and stuffed themselves. It was kind of fun, just the two of them, pigging out. They never would have done something like this with Alecia.

"Daddy, can I sleep with you tonight?"

She didn't want to be alone. Andy's fatherly instincts told him he couldn't say no, as his self-preservation instincts told him she could kill him just by rolling over on top of him.

But she'd thought of that already. "I'll hold you so you won't get hurt."

They dressed in their pajamas and Brooke turned off the light. She lay on her side on the bed and pulled Andy against her chest, enveloping him in her arms. Her firm, perky breasts—huge compared to him—spread against his back and spilled over his sides. Was she growing, or was it just a matter of him getting smaller? He was literally between his daughter's breasts, from his shoulders to his waist, and she was at most a C cup, as far as he knew. He covered his arousal with his hands so she wouldn't feel it.

But she already had. "It's okay, Daddy."

"Uh, what's okay?"

She patted his crotch with her pinky. "I know it's not me turning you on. It's just body parts, at your size. Like Kim in the dressing room. Mom told me to expect it. So it's okay."

Andy did NOT need to be reminded of how Kimberly looked in her bikini. The fleeting image spurred his arousal into a fully fledged hard-on.

She kissed the top of his head. "Good night, Daddy."

"Good night, sweetie."

She was snoring within minutes, but Andy was awake for most of the night, his mind ill at ease with what his life was becoming.

Andy didn't need a babysitter. Well, actually, he did need a babysitter. But he wanted someone he trusted, someone who knew him when he was normal-sized, not some stranger to whom he was nothing but a burden. Which is what Maria was.

Brooke returned to work Wednesday. Andy decided he was cool with that, even though she technically didn't ask his permission. If throwing herself into work helped distract her from losing her mother, he wouldn't protest it.

But he didn't like having Maria around, even though she was very kind. He had a big argument with Brooke about it. She ended the discussion by saying he needed help, and her decision was final. She used those words: "My decision is final." In that moment, Andy had a sinking feeling, looking up at his humongous daughter. There was a new family dynamic in play, with Brooke at the top, and him on the bottom.

He didn't leave the office all day, not even to eat. He hadn't eaten much since binging on chips and sweets with Brooke in their Richmond hotel room. He wasn't sleeping, either, despite feeling utterly exhausted all of the time. Having lost his wife, and having lost control of everything in his sphere of influence, including his own daughter, he was losing his will to take care of himself. He hadn't bathed since Sunday. He hadn't shaved since Saturday.

Brooke got home in the evening and dismissed Mary. She trudged up the stairs to look in on her dad. Andy heard her approach on the other side of the door and readied himself for another fight.

Her tone was gentler than he expected, and it disarmed him of the anger he'd been brewing all day.

"Hey, Daddy."

"Hey, Brooke."

She collapsed into the desk chair and leaned back. Andy, seated between the computer keyboard and the edge of the desk, turned around to face her.

They sat in silence for a few beats. Andy realized she was waiting for him to initiate the end-of-day pleasantries, one of those trite, accidental routines that structure daily life.

"How was your day, Brooke?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Normal."

"Normal is good."

She snickered. "Yeah. What did you do today?"

Andy looked sheepishly down at himself, dressed only in his 6-inch-waist boxer briefs. "Nothing much."

"Mary said you didn't eat anything."

"That's because I didn't feel like eating," he said glumly.

She sighed. "I'm sorry I was mean to you this morning, Daddy. But you have to trust me with Mom gone." She paused. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"What?"

She gestured at his thinning form. "You're not eating. You're not sleeping. You smell awful. I can smell you from here. And—look at you! You're like a caveman." She took a deep breath before plunging ahead. "Why do you hate Maria?"

Andy's defenses went back up. "I don't hate her, I just… What I don't understand is why this ice cream job is so important to you that you leave me alone with her. If it's because you want to buy your own car, your mother and I—" He bit his tongue. "I mean, we can make up the shortfall. You don't HAVE to work 30, 40 hours a week. We have plenty of money in savings."

"No," Brooke said firmly. "We agreed that I could work to make enough money to buy my own car before leaving for college. That was our deal."

"We didn't know I'd catch the shrinking disease, Brooke. You have to be flexible."

She crossed her arms, jostling her young breasts under her shirt. She was definitely hitting a late growth spurt, Andy thought. Compared to a week ago, she was at least a cup size bigger.

"I am being flexible, Dad," she said snarkily. It was "Dad" when she was upset with him. "It's you who's refusing to be taken care of by people trained to deal with people with your condition. I'll ask again, why do you hate her?"

"Because she doesn't know me for who I am, when I was big. I need that connection to the real me. To Maria I'm just an invalid."

"Guess what, Dad? You are an invalid. Maria can offer specialized care, tailored for your needs."

"Yeah, but she's not like—" He stopped himself again.

Brooke's expression changed. "Not like who?" Her voice cracked. "Not like Mom?"

"Brooke—"

"Mom's dead, Dad!" she shouted, hurting her father's ears. "No one could be like her, even if they tried. She's dead!"

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Andy stood up on the desk, wanting to comfort her, but seeing no way how.

"I know, Brooke. I know. No one can replace your mother. I wasn't saying that."

"Then what were you saying?" she cried, between sobs.

"I was thinking of… of… Kimberly." Andy swore under his breath. What are you saying, idiot?!

She looked at her small father through red, blurry eyes. "You want Kim to come take care of you?"

Andy scrambled for words. "Well, no. I mean, I—I'm comfortable around her. I knew her well before I started shrinking. And she did a good job when she was staying with us. I was thinking maybe we could… get someone like that." I'm such a retard, he thought.

Brooke's sobs had subsided. "Do you want me to ask her?" she said.

"No. She went back home to her parents for a reason. We shouldn't mess that up."

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

He was adamant. "No. That's not a good idea, Brooke."

She furrowed her brow in consternation. "Why not? You just said she did a good job taking care of you."

There was no way out of this one. Brooke already looked convinced of what she should do, and it was up to Andy to dissuade her. But what argument could he make that she wouldn't ignore? Only the truth that he dare not speak: Kimberly was an impressionable girl with more raw sexual power than she could handle. She needed protection from herself, and he was the last person to provide it. If she tried to seduce him again, he was afraid of what he might do.

Andy would sooner die than open up this dark corner of his soul to inspection by his teenage daughter.

"You're scared of her. Is that it?"

"What? No, I—"

"I get it, Daddy. She's like the prettiest girl in my class. I'm used to how boys act around her."

Andy had to right the ship, quickly. "Whoa, timeout. What does that have to do with—"

"She only teased you because she used to have a little crush on you when she was, like, 13. She wouldn't try to take advantage of you or anything."

Yes, she would! Andy thought. His daughter must be preternaturally chaste, maybe even asexual, to speak about attraction so openly and treat it as no big deal. She didn't know how powerful a force it was in most people.

"I know what to do. Let's not talk about it anymore," she said. She wiped her tear-stained cheeks and stood abruptly. "I'm going to order a pizza. Okay if I use your credit card?"

She didn't wait for an answer. "Thanks, Daddy." And she was gone.

Kimberly was lying on her bed in her room, reading, when her phone vibrated. It was a text from Brooke.

"I have a big ask. Can you come over tomorrow and watch my dad?"

Kimberly considered how she should respond, if at all, but the phone rang before she could put the right words together.

"Hello?"

"Hey, love, it's Brooke."

"I know. How are you doing?"

The question took Brooke off guard. "Okay, considering."

So, pretty bad, Kimberly surmised. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Did you get my text? What do you think?"

She paused a second topinion think. How could she tell her best friend no without telling her why not? "I don't think I can."

"Why not?!" Brooke whined. "You should have heard my dad earlier. He was saying how great you were at taking care of him. He was practically begging for you."

Kimberly seriously doubted that. She had said in her letter that it would be best if they stayed apart. He wouldn't intentionally try to reestablish contact with her.

"Are you sure about that, Brooke?"

"Okay, I had to talk him into it," she admitted. "But you should see him. He's really depressed. He hasn't eaten or slept in days."

Brooke sat up in alarm. Not eating or sleeping could seriously jeopardize Andy's recovery from the shrinking disease. She tried to hide the worry in her voice. "Is he sick?"

"No, just sad, you know? Like he's got nothing to live for."

Kimberly twirled her hair. She envisioned Andy helplessly dwindling away to nothing. The image was enough to move something deep inside her.

"You think if I came over he'd, you know, get over it, be happy again?"

"Yeah. I do. Please, Kim? I need your help. I don't know what to do for him. He wants me to quit my job and stay with him, but I know that wouldn't be enough. He needs YOU."

Kimberly closed her eyes. Just days ago she'd taken drastic steps to lock down her urges, especially around Mr. Speed. Now here she was, considering opening Pandora's Box all over again.

There would have to be controls, she thought. Strict boundaries that neither of them could cross. That's the only way it was going to work.

"If I say yes," Kimberly said, "it's just for a day, okay?"

"Yeah, just one day, then we'll see how he's doing."

She sighed. "Let me ask my parents. I'll text you later."

"Okay. Thanks, Kim. Love ya." Brooke hung up.

As Kimberly made her way downstairs, she told herself she was doing this for the right reasons. It was because she wanted Andy to be healthy that she was going back on her promise, not because she wanted another chance to requite her love. She did love him. That was undeniable. But her motivation was selfless this time. She didn't care about validating her feelings for him anymore. This was about helping him feel better so he could have a normal life someday.

She found her dad, Roy, alone in the living room, grading papers. She would have preferred to talk to her mother, but she'd gone to bed early with a headache.

"Hey, Dad. Can we talk?" she asked softly.

"Yeah." He cleared a space on the couch next to him. She sat down.

"You know how I was staying with the Speeds while I was working at… Twin Peaks?"

Hearing the name of her former workplace discomfited her father. "Mm-hmm," he intoned.

"Well, I just talked to Brooke on the phone. She asked me if I would babysit Mr. Speed tomorrow."

Roy's eyes scrutunized her. "At their house?"

"Yeah."

He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you think, Kim?"

"I think… Mr. Speed needs someone who can care for him and lift his spirits a little."

"You're saying you basically did the same thing while you were living with them."

Kimberly twisted her fingers in her lap. "Yeah, but at the time he had Mrs. Speed caring for—"

"At the time, Mr. Speed was married. Now he's not. And you're proposing putting yourself in a situation that's very personal, very intimate, with a single man."

Roy reached for her hand and squeezed it. "You know we love you, Kim. We want what's best for you. We want you to make the right choices. But part of letting you grow up has been to admit that, at times, we don't know what's best for you. We don't know what the right choices are. Sometimes, only you can know that."

He paused to measure out his words. "If you were asking for my permission, I'd say no. I'd say you could only do it if you brought Mr. Speed here, to be watched by your mother and brother also. But it's not up to me this time. It's up to you. So, what are YOUR reasons that you want to… babysit Mr. Speed?"

Kimberly's eyes welled up as she spoke from the heart. "When I was helping him before, I was really nervous at first. But he made it feel like the most normal thing. He looked out for me, gave me advice. He was… he was like you, Dad. It was after talking to him that I decided to come home. If I had asked to stay with any other family, I know things would have turned out worse. Brooke and I teased him about his size, but he took it in stride. He didn't let shrinking change him."

She took a breath. "Brooke said he's not eating and he's not sleeping since Mrs. Speed died. You know what he told me once? He said Mrs. Speed was the best thing about him. And I know it was true." She smiled fondly at the memory of him standing up to her and rejecting her once and for all. Ironic how she admired him even more for that.

"He just lost the best thing about him. I'm someone he trusts, someone he can be himself around. I know when he shows his grief to me, God will give me the right things to say. I don't want him to feel like he has to suffer through this alone."

Roy pursed his lips and nodded soberly. "Those sound like the right reasons to me." He squuezed her hand again. "I'll follow you over there in the morning to see him myself. My first class doesn't start until 9:00."

"Thank you, Dad." She leaned in for a hug. Her chin settled on his shoulder and he squeezed her tight.

"Don't thank me, Kim. Thank yourself. You're doing the right thing. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you for believing in me."

She broke the hug and ran upstairs. She picked up her phone and texted Brooke. "I'll do it"

Brooke replied immediately. "Thank you! =*)"

Kimberly checked herself in the mirror. She was satisfied that she looked as unattractive as possible without looking like she was trying to look that way. She had on no makeup, except for a touch of base around her temples. She'd moisturized her chestnut-colored hair so her natural curls had none of the bounce or volume that she knew boys liked. She wore a frilly, long-sleeve blouse that covered her arms and chest, and obscured her protruding bust. Underneath that she wore a sports bra to tame the rebellious movements of her heavy breasts. She wore a pair of loose jeans that made her butt look flat and unremarkable. Some sneakers completed the ensemble.

"Kim, you ready? We need to get going. It's after 8," her dad called from downstairs.

"Coming." She grabbed her purse and left her room.

Roy followed in his car. The drive to the Speeds' house took less than 5 minutes. They walked to the front door together.

Brooke opened the door. She was dressed for work and in a rush. Kimberly and her dad gave her a hug.

"I'm so sorry about your mother, Brooke," Roy started saying. "If there's anything—"

Brooke breezed past them. "I'm running late. He's in the living room watching TV." She ran to her father's car, started the engine, and sped off down the street.

Roy looked at Kimberly. "She seems to be taking it well," he said.

"That's just Brooke. She's not," Kimberly said. They stepped into the house and closed the door behind them.

Kimberly tiptoed into the living room. The TV was tuned to one of the network morning shows. Roy looked around the room. "Where is he?"

"Over here." Andy crawled out from between the couch cushions. "Had to get the remote."

Kimberly colored. Andy was more adorable than ever. His clothes would fit her old Ken dolls. And he was growing a little beard!

Roy got down on his knees next to the couch. "Hello, Andrew."

"Roy," Andy said curtly. "I wasn't expecting you, too."

"Well, I came to pay my respects. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"When's the memorial service?"

"Tomorrow at 11. St. Luke's."

"I'll try to make it, but you know… summer classes. Trina and Kim, at least, should be there. As I was telling Brooke, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. God didn't make us to deal with these things on our own. The Lord is our shepherd. If you want someone to talk to, or pray with you, let us know, okay?"

"I will."

"When you're ready, Trina and I would love to have you over for dinner. It's been too long since we got together. From what Kim has told me, you've shined a light in her life during a dark time, and I want to thank you properly."

Andy's demeanor softened. "Thanks, Roy. I'll have to take you up on that when I'm not so…" He didn't need to finish.

Roy stood up. "I leave you in good hands." He kissed Kimberly on the forehead. "Bye. Good luck."

She followed her dad to the threshold and locked the door behind him. She returned and sat on the couch a fair distance from Andy, chastely folding her hands on top of her knees.

He spoke up first. "Can I say something up front?" He had to raise his voice to be heard over the TV.

She nodded.

He kicked down on the remote, switching the TV off. "I didn't want you to come over. This was all Brooke's idea."

She smirked wanly. "It's good to see you, too, Mr. Speed."

Andy sighed. "Of course I'm glad to see you, Kim. I was referring to your letter. You said you needed to spend time away from me to get your stuff sorted out. I respected that. I'm telling you Brooke orchestrated this, not me. Which brings me to ask: Why are you here?"

He sounded angry, as if by walking through the door she'd tried to rape him all over again. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. You're here for his sake, not to validate your feelings, she told herself.

"Brooke thought you'd be happier having me here rather than a stranger." She arched her eyebrows. "Was she wrong?"

Andy sat on the couch and stared forward, conflicted. "It doesn't hurt."

Kimberly snuck a long glance at him. He was really small, no taller than a foot. Despite that, she could see dark circles under his eyes, and recent loss of fat and muscle in his hips and shoulders in the way his tiny clothes hung off his frame. Brooke was right. If he carried on like this much longer, he wasn't going to live long enough to experience being a normal-sized person again.

"I appreciate your offer to help, Kim. I do," Andy said. "And all things being equal, I'm glad you're here instead of the woman the insurance company sent." He looked at her. Hurt lined his face. "But Alecia's gone. My wife is gone. You can't fix that, can you?"

Kimberly said nothing. They sat for awhile, trying to let the silence speak for them.

Andy studied her face. It had only been a week, but it looked like she'd aged 5 years. Her outfit was a vain effort to play down her looks. He knew she was beautiful. Now there was something intriguing about her as well. There was a reservedness, a self-awareness that wasn't there before. There was also pain below the surface that he knew he was responsible for.

She cleared her throat. Andy looked away. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking how different you look."

Her voice was very controlled, almost robotic. "Since I'm going to be here with you all day, we should establish ground rules about how we act around each other."

"Ground rules… sound like a good idea."

She recited the litany of rules from memory. It was a painful, even hurtful, talk to give. But she knew the pain that she could inflict on him or herself otherwise, and this motivated her to continue to the end.

Andy listened without saying a word, and agreed to the terms. "Now what?" he asked.

She stood up and walked around the couch, giving him a wide berth, self-conscious of how she appeared to him. "Now, I'll make you breakfast."

"I'm not really hungry, Kim—"

"I'll make eggs and bacon and toast, and you can eat however much you want."

Andy shrugged.

Kimberly's goal was to not let Andy spend the day alone. She kept him engaged all morning. Even though he only ate a few bites of egg, she was able to keep him at the table until she finished eating, and for 20 minutes after. She did most of the talking, more filling the air between them with her voice than carrying a real conversation. Then she got him to help her wash dishes. He cleaned one glass in the time it took her to clean two plates, the frying pan, and the silverware. Then they played cards.

Before they knew it, it was noon.

"Would you like to go for a walk, Mr. Speed?"

"Now?" He looked out the window. "It's kinda hot, isn't it?"

"Swimming, then."

Andy recalled the last time they went swimming. "You want to go swimming?"

She recalled it, too. She blushed. "The rules, Mr. Speed. I will not be going swimming. I was suggesting it as an activity for you."

"Right," he said, crestfallen. He was a fool for hoping. "I don't think so. I think I'll head upstairs—"

"No, I know what we'll do." Kimberly scrambled for something, anything. "We'll, uh, go to the store. Yeah. I thought the pantry looked empty. That's it, we'll go shopping. Let's make a list."

They made a shopping list, and she drove them to the grocery store. Andy was now so short that she couldn't see him in the rearview mirror. He needed an adapter to fit in the overlarge car seat.

On the way to the store, Kimberly questioned what she was doing. What if she was making Andy feel worse? What if she reminded him of how he was almost unfaithful to his wife? What if she was teasing him and didn't know it? What if her rules were too strict?

She realized her eyes were watering as she parked the car, so she wore sunglasses inside the store. She pushed Andy around in the shopping cart. They went down every aisle, crossing items off their list as they went. Then they went through checkout. No one noticed Andy, and if they did, they pretended he was invisible.

When they got home, Kimberly had Andy direct her where to put the groceries. Then she made lunch, sandwiches. Again, Andy said he was full after only a couple of bites.

They washed the dishes and Kimberly checked the clock. 2:30. Only 3 hours to kill before Brooke got home.

"You look tired," Andy said.

I feel tired, she thought. She wondered absently if this is what being a stay-at-home mom was like.

"Let's relax and listen to the radio," she suggested. The radio was in the living room with the TV. She tuned it to a classical station.

"Beethoven's seventh," she said, swaying to the sound of the strings. She stopped when she realized Andy was standing underneath her. He was very stealthy at this size.

"Beethoven's fourth," he corrected.

They sat on the couch and listened to the music. Kimberly curled her legs up underneath her and lay her head on the headrest. She was asleep within minutes.

She awoke some time later and sat up. Andy was gone.

"Mr. Speed?" she said quietly. If he was asleep, she didn't want to wake him. Her eyes scanned the couch. She checked under her hips and thighs, just in case. She made sure the floor was clear before planting her feet and standing up.

She walked into the kitchen. "Mr. Speed?" she whispered. Nothing.

She crept up the stairs. The door to the office was open a crack. She put her eye to the door but couldn't see much of anything. She couldn't hear anything, either.

She placed her palm on the door to push it open, stopped. Maybe she should leave him alone. He'd come up here for privacy. But, what was she here for, if not to help him bear his burden?

Let him choose whether to have me for company, she thought. She backed away from the door to the top of the stairs. "Mr. Speed?" she called out.

A minute elapsed before the door inched open and Andy walked out into the hallway. "Yeah."

"It's clouded over. We can take that walk now,  if you want."

Andy considered her. "No thanks, Kim. I'm good."

She stepped into the vertical shaft of light coming out of the office. "You're sure? I think you could use some company."

His voice was heavy with sadness. "I'm sure."

She stood there, wondering what she could do or say to convince him to go with her. The invitation to use her shoulder to cry on was there, if only he would accept it! If there was a way to shake him out of his malaise, just for a minute, it would be worth it, if it led to some catharsis. She decided she could bend the rules just this one time to persuade him.

She took another step forward and kneeled close to him. The soft curves of her hips and chest stood out through her tautening blouse. She reached around him to rub his back with her fingers.

"Are you really sure?" she said.

The suggestion was as subtle as she could make it, but as subtle as a freight train to Andy. That was the disadvantage of having only guns in a knife fight.

Andy scowled and shrugged her fingers off his shoulders. "I'd like to be alone, Kim."

This was a mistake, she realized. He wasn't ready to share his grief, and she'd insulted him to boot.

"Mr. Speed, I was just trying to—You know, you shouldn't—"

"Kim, you've been a great friend today. The best that I could hope for. But I'm asking for some space right now. You understand, don't you?"

She nodded contritely. "I do, Mr. Speed. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Kimberly sat at the kitchen table, thinking, reviewing the situation. Andy needed her, she just didn't know how. She was at a loss for what she should do, and it was driving her crazy. But she wasn't ready to give up, not by a long shot.

Brooke walked through the door in her ice cream shop uniform. "Hey." She searched the table and the countertop with her eyes. "Where's my dad?"

"Upstairs."

Brooke slipped her purse off her shoulder and sat next to her best friend. "How'd he do?"

"Better, I think. But still distant. I was thinking, maybe I should stay here for awhile."

"That'd be great," Brooke said. "Will that be okay with your parents?"

"It should be." She stood up. "I need to go home and pack my suitcase."

Brooke caught ahold of her hand before she walked away. "Thank you for doing this, Kim."

She smiled back. "It's nothing," she replied, but really it meant everything.

Twenty-four hours later, Kimberly was no closer to figuring it out. 

Andy had another sleepless night. In the morning he, Brooke, and Kimberly went to St. Luke's with Alecia's ashes. Mourners started arriving at about 10. They met with everyone who came. Brooke and Alecia's brother spoke before the gathering. Then they had a reception in the church gym that went on for 2 hours after the memorial service ended. Kimberly held Andy in her open palm at chest height for most of the event. 

The worst part was seeing Alecia's mother and siblings. Kimberly noticed Andy struggling to keep his composure around his deceased wife's family as they peppered him with questions about the accident in Virginia and his health. And who was this young girl in the black dress carrying him around? Using the social arts mastered by the fairer sex, she deflected their attention from him more than a few times. 

During the reception someone tugged on Kimberly's sleeve. She turned and had to look down to see who it was. It was a man she used to have to look up to, but now he was almost a head shorter than her. 

"Paul?!" she said, shock registering in her voice. It was uncanny. He was the size of a prepubescent boy, but his face was much older. "What are you…? You have a lot of nerve coming here!" 

Paul, who was at eye level with Kimberly's smooth collar bone, looked positively sheepish. 

"Cool it, Kim," Andy said. He turned to face his friend. "So how long has this been going on?" 

"The shrinking? Ten days or so." 

"Wow, what a coincidence," Andy said. It was unknown how the shrinking disease spread. Human-to-human vectors were the first to be ruled out when the disease first appeared. 

"Yeah, that's too bad," Kimberly said mockingly. 

"Look, I came to apologize to both of you, and to give you my condolences," Paul said. "Alecia was a great woman, Andy. She lit up a lot of people's lives." 

"Thanks."

He inclined his head. "And I'm sorry I was a jackass and kicked you." 

Andy glanced at the girl behind him, the one with the implacable glare. "I don't think it's me you need to apologize to." 

Paul raised his eyes to the beautiful teenager. "I'm sorry, Kim, for everything." 

"I forgive you," she said coldly. She drew herself up to her full 5 feet, 10 inches in her short heels. "Fortunately Mr. Speed wasn't seriously hurt. If I were you, when I'm small I would hope I'm treated better than how you treated Andy." 

Paul took her scolding. He probably felt he deserved it. "I really feel terrible about what happened," he said. He began to move away from them. 

"I know. I made sure of that." She bent her knee and smoothed a hand over her thigh, a reminder of how she'd cut their date short on Weathertop Hill, and an implied threat of what she'd do if he came near her again. 

Paul's face flushed red and he dissapeared into the crowd. 

"That was unnecessary," Andy commented. 

"That dirt bag could have killed you." 

"If only he had," he muttered under his breath. 

"What?"

"He learned his lesson. He apologized. Let it go," he said sternly. 

When they got home, Brooke and Kimberly took naps. Per his new normal, Andy tried to sleep, but ended up lying in the crib with his eyes open, thinking. He'd been dreading the memorial service all week. He was glad it was behind him. Now, what was next? 

He'd known the answer to that question for so long. Alecia, Brooke, accounting. That was 90 percent of his life. Now, Alecia was gone. He was losing Brooke to college. Shrinking had merely made his loss of authority over his daughter more acute; it wasn't the cause. As for his career, it held little meaning for him outside the context of supporting his family. 

What was next? He pondered the question all night long.

Andy had to take a leak. He jumped down from the office desk and walked to the bathroom. The toilet bowl was now taller than him, but he could still climb up to relieve himself. He and Alecia had talked about him needing her help to use the bathroom someday. If I were to kill myself, he thought, it would be the day I rely on someone else to wipe my ass.

His mind roamed as he arced his stream into the toilet bowl. He'd spent several hours online googling what happens to men when they are single as a result of death or divorce. All the reputable sources he found showed that newly single men die sooner, make less money, have fewer connections to society, commit more crimes, and use more drugs than their still-married peers. And most of the research didn't factor shrinking. It was a bleak verdict on middle-aged singlehood, and it read like a prophecy to Andy.

He flushed and headed back to the office. When he reached the desk, he realized the toilet in the bathroom was still running. He ran back, climbed onto the toilet bowl, and jiggled the handle.

It didn't stop running. In the past he would just lift the lid off the tank and adjust the chain or whatever was out of whack. The tank lid weighed literally a ton. He needed Brooke or Kimberly to take off the tank lid.

If I were to kill myself, it would be the day I have to ask my little girl to fix the goddamn toilet, he thought. He jumped up and bore all his weight down on the flush handle. The handle slipped through his hands. 

The air left his lungs as he landed hard on his side on the toilet lid, bending the ribs Paul bruised 2 weeks ago. He sprawled out his arms and legs, hoping to catch himself on anything to arrest his fall. Somehow his feet found purchase on the opposite rim of the toilet lid. He came to a stop. His 9-inch tall body was stretched across the diameter of the toilet bowl. 

"Shit," he grunted, struggling to hold on. He couldn't move. His shoulders burned to keep his upper body level. He couldn't take much more of this. He gambled by kicking his legs as hard as he could, aiming to land his chest on the toilet lid to gain enough leverage to pull himself up. 

Not even close. He tumbled into the bowl, slid down the side, and plunged into the water. 

Sputtering, he stood up, feet in the deepest part of the toilet bowl, where the flush valve curved towards the wall behind the commode. The water came up to his arm pits. He tried to scale the bowl to its broad opening, so close above him, but the wet porcelain was too smooth, too slippery. And he was too short to reach the top of the bowl. He was stuck. 

The good news was the toilet had stopped running. He could still handle that aspect of his domestic duties on his own. Yay. 

"I'm going to drown here," he thought aloud, knowing fully well he wasn't, but imagining it would be preferable to being rescued by Brooke or Kimberly. A fitting end to his shrunken life. He thought out how his obituary would read. 

Widower Andrew Speed, 40, drowned in toilet water after attempting a routine but ill-fated home repair. He was found by his daughter, Brooke Speed, 18, his last remaining kin, and new owner of a used 2013 Nissan Altima.

"If I were to kill myself, I wouldn't drown in the toilet," he said. 

There was nothing to do but wait.

Brooke had left for work by the time Kimberly woke up. The first thing she did was to check in on Andy. 

He wasn't in the crib or anywhere in the office. He wasn't in the master bedroom, either. He must be downstairs, she thought. She wondered if he got any sleep. A weight had seemed to lift off his shoulders as soon as they left the memorial service. It was the most content he'd looked since she returned. Maybe it signaled he was beginning to put Alecia's death behind him, and would finally be able to rest his mind.

She went to the bathroom, peeled her pink panties down her thighs, and sat on the toilet. She propped her elbows on her knees and her chin on her hands, and released her bladder. She heard a faint wailing sound over the trickle of urine, coming from the toilet bowl. She lifted her butt off the seat and looked in the water. 

"Mr. Speed!" 

His skin was blue, and he was shivering. Soaked to the bone, and haggard from nearly a week of personal neglect, he looked like a homeless man caught in a downpour. 

She reached into the yellow water to pick him up and carried him to the sink. His little body was freezing. "Let's warm you up," she said. 

She plugged the sink and filled it with hot water. It was like an oversized jacuzzi to Andy, a vast improvement over the toilet. He submerged himself and kicked off his clothes, including his underwear, and let the warmth from the water permeate his small body. 

He surfaced and looked up at Kimberly. "You peed on me." 

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Speed. How long were you in there?" 

"I dunno. Hours." 

"Why didn't you call for help?" 

"I did. No one heard me." His tone was accusing. He stood up in the knee-deep water. Kimberly blushed at his nakedness. 

"Can I have some soap, please?" he said. 

She grabbed the bar soap and rubbed it between her fingers until she had a good lather. Andy didn't fail to notice the motion of her large, perky breasts. She was wearing a white, low-cut tank top. No bra. He knew he wasn't supposed to look, but neither was she supposed to wear those kinds of clothes around him. Whatever, he wasn't complaining. 

She offered her soapy hand to him. He grabbed an armful of suds and proceeded to wash himself. She giggled through her closed lips. 

"Something funny?" he said. 

"Yeah, you. You should take yourself less seriously. You'll live longer." 

"My wife just died. Living longer isn't high on my priorities list." 

Kimberly hid her dismay while Andy continued to bathe. She didn't know such extreme bitterness and self-loathing was possible. He was even worse off than she thought.

Andy climbed out of the sink onto the counter. "Can I have a towel, please?" 

A towel was too big, so she got him a dry washcloth. Andy dried himself and wrapped it around his waist. She carried him to the guest bedroom. 

"Hey, my clothes are in my room," he said. 

"Your clothes can wait. Let's talk for a bit." She set him on her bed and knelt down on the floor to face him. 

"What's there to talk about?" he said, drawing the washcloth tighter around his waist. 

"I dunno. Whatever you want." 

"You start." 

"Okay. Why haven't you slept in 6 days? Are you punishing yourself for Alecia's death?" She had to say something shocking to break him out of this cycle of pretending he could work through this trial on his own, and doing more harm to himself in the process. She needed him to react to her, not the other way around. It worked, but seeing him so hurt and angry wasn't the greatest feeling. 

He clenched his fists. "Trust me, Kim, you don't want any part of what I'm going through. Just let me mourn in my own way, will you? Is that too much to ask?" 

"This isn't mourning. This is suicide, Mr. Speed. You're never going to get your normal height back if you continue on like this." 

"You don't know anything!" he lashed out. "Alecia was going to cheat on me with some jerk from work. And it was because of me!" 

This revelation took a moment to sink in. "Truly?" she asked. 

Andy buried his face in his hands, upset with himself for letting slip his wife's infidelity. No one was supposed to find out, least of all Kimberly, the source of his own infidelity. 

"Why was it because of you?" she asked. 

He shook his head. How could an 18 year-old understand? "It just is." 

"Why?" she insisted. 

"Because I pushed her away. Because I wasn't a good enough husband. Because for weeks all I could think about… was you. Take your pick." 

They were quiet for a minute. Kimberly clenched her jaw, resolve displacing sympathy. "So what?" she said. 

He scoffed, "What do you mean, 'So what?'" 

"I mean, what difference does it make? She died. It's in the past. Forget about it." 

"I can't forget." 

"You should try." 

"Well, I don't want to!" 

She looked down at him impassively. "Do you want to die, too, Mr. Speed?" 

That took him off guard. "Excuse me?" 

"Do you want to die? There's lots of ways we could do it. I could help you make it look like an accident." 

Andy glowered. "I don't want to die, Kim." 

"Are you sure? Your actions in the last week say otherwise." She straightened her long legs until she towered over him and dropped heavily onto her butt, very close to him. He bounced on the mattress, losing the washcloth, and tumbled into her smooth thigh. 

"I could sit on you. At your size I could crush your skull pretty easily. I don't think it would hurt." 

He stood up and backed away from her, naked, seething with wounded pride. "Shut up, Kim. I don't want to die." 

"Prove it." She calmly extended her large hand over him. 

"Hey!" he shouted. He jumped to the side and her hand came down with a loud thump, shaking the mattress. He fought to keep his balance. "What the hell are you doing?" 

She slammed her hand down again. He dove out of the way. "Are you crazy?!" 

"I am, Mr. Speed." She extended both hands over him. He stood up, tracked her threatening hands with his eyes, body tensed to avoid her next strike. 

Her hand came down quickly. He tried dodging it, but his leg caught under her thumb. She raised her other hand over him. He kicked free and rolled away. He felt a gust of air as her open palm crashed down on the spot where he'd just been. 

He leapt to his feet, heart racing like mad. He was trapped on a corner of the bed. A hand shot out, fingers extended, trying to grab him. He ran to the side, then hurdled over her forearm, seeing an opening to outflank her. He looked over his shoulder to see what she was doing, but she had vanished. He stopped, mistified. 

"Kim?" 

Kimberly's huge body rose up next to the bed behind him. Seeing Andy on the bed reminded her of the home video shot by Alecia 18 years ago, the one where Andy bounced an infant Brooke on the bed, making her topple over. She was inspired to recreate that moment, but with a role reversal.

Andy turned around in time to see both her hands slam into the mattress next to him. He lost his balance and fell to his knees. She giggled and pushed the mattress down, then allowed it to recoil, bouncing him like he was on a trampoline. His small body was tossed to and fro. 

"Okay! Okay, stop!" he cried out. He rolled to his feet and looked at his captor. She was sitting on her heels on the floor, smiling wickedly, her arms extended to either side of him. A cat toying with a mouse. 

"Or you'll do what?" she said. She pushed the mattress down again, testing his balance. He lurched to the side. 

She was breathing heavily with excitement. He saw the tops of her breasts, thanks to her plunging neckline, rising with each breath. He had a naughty idea, and he figured he owed her one for all the times she almost flattened him under her hands. 

"Or I'll do… this!" He ran towards her at full speed and jumped headfirst from the edge of the bed into her shirt. 

His back hit her soft chest and he slid face first into her warm, shadowy cleavage. He stopped sliding as his torso became wedged between the heavy, convex walls of her breasts. The thrill of jumping down Kimberly's shirt gave way to the realization of where he was. He didn't think he'd actually get stuck in here. He figured he would just ride her like a slide and fall out the bottom of her shirt. But he was completely engulfed in her breasts.

She peered down her shirt. All she could see of Andy were his little legs poking out of her neckline, kicking. He was squirming around, trying to worm his way farther between her breasts. It tickled. She laughed girlishly and squeezed her breasts together, making his whole body disappear between her fluffy mounds. 

Andy felt, more than heard, her laughter from the vibrations in her chest. All of a sudden the walls of flesh around him closed in, and he was plunged into total darkness. He could feel himself being squeezed from head to toe, like getting a bear hug from a giant sumo wrestler. TWO giant sumo wrestlers. His chest ached from the intense pressure, and his arms and legs went numb from lack of blood. He screamed, but he was walled in. His voice didn't carry.

Kimberly gave him a few more squeezes before deciding he'd had enough. As she played with Andy's naked little body, the answer to the question that had been bothering her since Thursday revealed itself. At long last she knew exactly what he needed and exactly how she could provide it. 

She pulled her shoulders back to separate her breasts and pulled Andy out of her cleavage. She dangled him upside down in front of her face. His penis was hard as a rock. 

"Kim, put me down," he said, struggling to free himself. "I'm sorry! I was just playing around!" 

How cute. He thinks I'm angry with him, she thought. She set him on his feet on the bed. 

"The rules are for your protection, Mr. Speed," she said patronizingly. "If you break them, you could get hurt." 

He shielded his erection with his hands. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get stuck… in there." 

She snickered, "It's okay. I liked it, too." She climbed onto the bed, crowding him with her huge body and long limbs. "Now, how would you like me to get you off?" 

His face screwed up in confusion. "Huh?" 

"How would you like me to get you off?" she repeated, like an adult repeating herself to a child. "I could use my legs…" She extended her long legs and ran her hands over her silky calves. Andy recalled oiling her perfect pins a week ago, when they seemed less than half as long as they seemed now. 

"My feet…" She placed her foot next to him and wiggled her pretty, fuckable toes. Her foot was as long as he was tall. 

"My soft, soft hands…" She poked him in the chest. The pad on her fingertip covered half his chest. She ran her finger down his belly and flicked his crotch, still protected by his hands. 

"Hey—" 

"My mouth…" She raised her finger to her glistening, pink tongue and licked it sensually, from base to tip. 

"Or my butt." She turned over and stuck her firm butt at him. Her pink panties hugged her slender hips and dug a deep, delectable trench between her round cheeks. 

Suddenly her butt accelerated towards him, ramming his chest and knocking him on his back. Kimberly looked over her shoulder, recognizing the internal battle between desire and trepidation reflected on his face. 

"You can have me any way you like—except here." She raised her hips higher, showing off the triangle of pink fabric covering her vagina. "This area is reserved for my future husband. You can't go there." 

Her hand ran delicately over the forbidden area. She turned over so she was sitting on the bed again. "Other than that, I'm all yours. So what'll it be, Mr. Speed?" 

Andy retained enough of his senses to immediately recognize she was attempting another sexual coup. Well, he had stood up to her once before. He could do it again. 

"No, Kim. I won't let you do this to yourself." 

"This isn't about me. Right now it's all about you, and how you want me to make your little dick go pop." She smacked her lips loudly on the "pop." 

"My answer is still no, Kim." 

"You don't want any of this?" she pouted. 

"No." 

She touched her chin, feigning concentration. "What could he possibly want, then?" A knowing smile passed over her lips. "Oh, how silly of me. I've known for a long time he has a soft spot for THESE." 

She arched her back and ran a hand over the top of her toned belly, molding her tank top to her round breasts. They bulged from her neckline and stretched the thin, white fabric even thinner. Her lofty nipples jutted half an inch through the shirt. 

Andy was stunned as she brought her magnificent chest closer, blotting out the light. He had been almost crushed to paste between her breasts a minute ago. They were so fucking BIG, his mind couldn't process it. 

He came back to earth when she suddenly pulled away from him, grabbed the bottom hem of her tank top, and lifted it over her shoulders. 

"Oh my God," he croaked, as her pale, teardrop-shaped mounds topped by beige nipples shook free, swaying hypnotically from her strong, broad shoulders. This is it, he realized. She's going to do it. 

She dropped her shirt to the floor. "Where are you going, Mr. Speed?" 

Andy was crawling backwards across the bed, trying to create some distance between himself and the giant, gorgeous girl, now naked except for her pink panties. 

"I'm—" 

She reached around him and stopped his progress with her hand. Andy's head bumped into her palm. "You're not going anywhere." 

"Kim, remember what happened at the pool. You don't want to do this!" 

She lowered her chest on top of him, pinning his feet to the bed with her stomach. Her soft right breast slowly rolled up his legs. 

"I love you, Mr. Speed. I can't stand to see you suffer. So I'm giving you what you need most. I'm giving you… me." 

Andy grunted as the hard nub of her right nipple, as big as his fist, pressed into his junk. 

She giggled, "Oops, sorry." She lifted off him a bit, giving him some relief from the crushing weight of her breast. Holding herself up on her elbows, she dragged her naked breast over his small body. He looked so cute. His little arms, spread wide, couldn't span the girth of just one of her huge breasts. 

"Is that better?" she asked. 

Andy forgot his objections. He moaned as her doughy flesh flattened him against the bed. His hard dick thrummed like a piano string against her hot skin. 

"I'll take that as a yes." She offered him her other breast and repeated the massaging motion. 

Andy felt her left nipple slide up his chest and neck. When it cleared his chin, he tilted his head up and mashed the nub between his teeth. It was firm and fleshy, like a ripe peach, and just as sweet. 

"Oh!" Kimberly felt a sharp pain in her nipple and lifted up completely. 

Andy stared up at her heavy breasts, hanging over his small body like the sword of Damocles. "I'm sorry! I thought—" 

"It's okay," she said. The pain was subsiding, and was soon replaced by a new sensation, deep between her legs. 

She repositioned herself. "Try that again." 

Andy raised his arms to embrace her enormous tit, and made out with her nipple as if he was making out with Kimberly herself. 

She tilted her head back and moaned in pleasure. A damp spot spread out from her pink panties. She didn't imagine she'd get something out of this, too. But Andy at his size could still please a lady. 

"Let's change positions," she announced. She slid her hand underneath Andy's body, and held him against her breast as she turned onto her back. 

Andy was disoriented, as the world to him turned upside down. When Kimberly removed her hand, he was thrilled to find himself on the wobbly surface of her left breast. He crawled across her buxom chest and belly-flopped onto her chin, planting wet kisses on her plump bottom lip. 

It made her happy to see him so eager. Her lips broadened into a loving smile wider than his shoulders. She ran her large, pink tongue over pearly white teeth, which stood in contrast to the dank, sensual cave of her mouth. 

"Not so fast, big guy. You're not done yet." 

She pinched his little foot between her fingers and pulled him off her chin. Andy's torso bounced on her soft chest, and she dragged him between the enormous swells of her breasts. 

She proceeded to pleasure him with every square inch of her supple breasts. As Andy glided over the hills and valleys of her majestic bosom, he left a thin trail of drool and precum on her flawless skin. His ride ended with him face to "face" with Kimberly's right nipple. He mouthed it passionately. 

This time Kimberly couldn't help herself. Holding Andy against her breast, she reached between her thighs and rubbed the surface of her clit. Her body shook as she quickly brought herself to orgasm, soaking her pink panties through. 

Andy was having his own fun. The sensitive underside of his erect penis found Kimberly's soft underboob irresistible. Still slobbering over her nipple, trying to fit the fleshy nub in his mouth, he wildly thrust his hips into her giving flesh, and roared at the top of his lungs as his testicles convulsed and he sprayed a torrent of thick, creamy cum all over her pillowy breast. Load after load spurted from his satisfied member until he was certain there was nothing left. 

He was wrong. After a minute of post-sex euphoria, Kimberly sat up. He lay limp in her hands. 

"Kim…" he said, drawing ragged breaths. "My God… that was incredible." 

Kimberly lay him on his back on the bed. She eyed his penis, which hadn't softened much, hungrily. He watched her rub her pointer finger under her colossal right breast, gathering what he imagined was quarts of cum on the tip of her finger. Her eyes never left his small body as she raised the finger to her mouth, wrapped her lips around it, and sucked it clean. 

She traced her wet finger down her chin and throat. "You taste good," she purred. "Do you have any more, big guy?" 

His voice was hoarse. "I don't have anything left!" 

"I beg to differ." She lowered her face towards him, smothered him in a long, deep kiss. Her wavy hair fell down, forming an intimate, dark curtain around their passion. Her hot, moist breath condensed in his beard and in his hair. She worked her lips over his once muscular chest, then over his emaciated belly. 

"Oh, God. Kim," he moaned. His penis swelled to full length again. 

Her huge tongue snaked past his member, and lifted his hairless scrotum between her plush, pink lips. 

"Unh!" Andy's torso bucked off the bed. He was almost sitting straight up, but she gently pressed him back down with her hand. The aroma of her juices on her fingers filled his nostrils. Her blue, saucer-sized eyes hovered above his face, watching his reactions. 

Holding his balls on her bottom lip, she slowly levered her jaw to raise her top lip up and over Andy's inch-long erection. Her top lip met his pelvis, making an airtight seal. His cock and balls were now completely inside her mouth. 

She closed her eyes and sucked him deep and hard, lifting his hips partly off the bed. Her agressive, wet tongue coated his balls and shaft with thick saliva, the perfect lubricant. He felt the pressure of another orgasm building in his loins. 

"Kim!" His arms shot straight out from his sides, and his body arched unnaturally so that only his feet and forearms touched the bed. It was like his whole body was redirecting blood to his penis. As he briefly teetered on the edge, his dick became painfully hard. His glans landed on the tip of her tongue and he blasted the back of her throat with a continous stream of thin, watery jizz. 

His body collapsed against the bed, then tensed again as he dumped a second, equally large load in her mouth. Darkness crept in around the edges of his sight. His field of vision shrank to little circles until all he could see were Kimberly's eyes, squeezed shut in concentration as she wrung every last drop out of his dried up little body. 

Kimberly herself was seeing stars. She raised her head, and Andy's soaking wet cock fell from between her lips and flopped onto his belly, still dribbling cum. She reached between her thighs, felt a fresh slickness there. She had come again, without even touching herself this time! 

She considered sharing the news with Andy, but he was unconscious on the bed. Oh, God, did I kill him? she thought. 

She pressed her cheek to the bed to see if his small chest was moving. It was, barely. Poor little thing was sleepy, that's all. 

She went and showered the odor of sex off her and returned to the room to get dressed for the day. She carried Andy to his crib, tucked his naked body under the sheet, and leaned down to give him a tender kiss. 

"I love you, Mr. Speed," she said to his unconscious form. Saying the words out loud filled her with a sense of contentment. She felt like everything was right with the world, because she loved this man, and would do anything for him. Love, the most powerful force on earth. It could overcome anything. It could overcome age. It could even overcome shrinking. 

"I love you," she said, just to hear the words again. 

Andy tossed his head as if in a dream. "I love you, Kim," he mumbled. 

Kimberly had to stay her jubilation. She'd heard it. There was no doubting he said it. But it was too good to be true. She had to hear it again. 

She turned her ear towards his still sleeping body. "What did you say?" she whispered. 

"I love you, Kim," he said, his words clear as day. 

Kimberly brought her hands together. She looked up and said a prayer of thanks. Tears welling in her eyes, she bent down to give Andy one last kiss and then floated out of the office, feeling like the most cherished girl on earth. 

Andy slept for 26 hours straight.

Kimberly's family stopped over for a breakfast of tacos and coffee at the Speeds' house on their way to church. Kimberly prompted them to not make too much noise because Andy was upstairs sleeping. "So he is sleeping again? Oh, good!" Trina, her mother, exclaimed. "Is he eating better too?"

Kimberly chuckled, "Not since he fell asleep."

"When was that?"

"Yesterday morning."

Trina held a hand to her mouth. "My goodness. Are you sure he's all right?"

"You remember when the dean of the department got the shrinking disease," Roy said. "He said at his smallest he was sleeping 14, 16 hours a day."

"Maybe we should wake him up so he can eat something," Trina suggested.

"No. Let him rest," Kimberly said.

"Listen to her, Trina. She's his caregiver, after all." Roy's eyes shifted towards her. "What did you do?"

Kimberly went still. "What do you mean?"

"What got him to finally fall asleep?"

She took a bite and chewed slowly to give herself time to come up with an answer. "Catharsis."

"What's catharsis?" Brandon, her brother, said.

"It's a Greek word. It means a release of strong emotions, which the Greeks believed were like poison to the body," Trina said.

"It's a fancy way of saying Mr. Speed talked to Kimberly about Mrs. Speed, and he felt better," Roy explained. Again his eyes shifted towards her. "Is that what happened, Kim?"

She wiped her brow. Technically Andy did talk to her about his wife, and later he did feel better. But the latter had little to do with the former, and everything to do with the two transcendent orgasms she gave him. Her parents and little brother didn't need to know that, though.

"Yeah, more or less." She raised her coffee mug. "Can you pour me some more cream?"

Andy yawned. His tongue felt like it was super-glued to the roof of his mouth. How long was I asleep? he wondered. Daylight was shining directly through the east-facing window. Saturday morning. Not long, but it was a start.

He looked under the sheet at his flaccid penis and the dried, crusty semen on his belly. The fuzzy image of Kimberly mauling his stiff cock replayed in his mind. He hadn't had a dream like that since he was a teenager.

If only some dreams came true, he thought.

He heard a stirring next to him. "Rise and shine, Mr. Speed."

Andy flopped over to find Kimberly lying on the bed, looking at him through the crib bars.

He sat up, with effort. His whole body was sore, like it had been through a meat grinder.

"Morning, Kim." She was wearing a knee-length black skirt and a satiny, dark blue blouse. It was the same outfit she was wearing the day he saw her at Twin Peaks, the outfit intended to deceive her parents. A necklace hung around her graceful neck. "What are you dressed up for?"

"My parents were here for breakfast. They left to go to church about an hour ago."

Andy did a double take. "Church? You mean it's Sunday?"

She nodded. "You slept a whole day."

Andy studied her oval face. Something about her big, blue eyes captured his attention. The way she looked at him, adoring and purposeful, like he was the first and last thing on her mind. Her eyes sparkled with devotion.

"The dream was real, wasn't it?" he said.

Kimberly smirked. "That depends on the dream. What happened in it?"

"I… I can't say."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "Like you can't put it into words? I had a dream like that, too. It was wonderful."

"Oh, man," Andy said. It had happened for real, all of it. He felt dizzy. He put an arm down to support himself.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

It took a moment for the dizzy spell to pass. "Yeah. Actually, I feel great." He smiled. "But I'm hungry. And thirsty."

She jumped to her feet. "Let's make you something, then." She reached into the crib to pick him up. He reflexively drew the covers higher on his chest.

"Oh, right. I forgot you were naked." She went to the master bedroom and got Andy's 8-inch tall clothes out of the bottom dresser drawer. She brought them to him and turned away while he dressed. His eyes drank in the vastness of her curves when she wasn't looking.

"Ready."

She picked him up and held him, facing her. He could make out the lines of her sturdy bra, moving with her heavy breasts. She descended to the kitchen, being careful to not jostle him in her palm. She was conscious of how much bigger and faster she appeared to him.

She pulled a plastic bottle cap out of the recycling bin, washed it, and filled it with water. She set it in front of him.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Spaghetti."

"Coming right up." She boiled five long spaghetti noodles, strained them, and melted a glob of butter on them.

"Can you grind some salt?" he asked.

Kimberly turned the salt grinder over the spaghetti. The little, white rocks scattered over Andy's plate. He picked up the end of one noodle and took a bite. He gagged.

"Too much salt?" she guessed.

"It's like chewing rocks," he said, bending down to drink from the bottle cap and wash the bitterness out of his mouth.

He felt the spaghetti noodle leave his hands. He watched as Kimberly lifted the spaghetti high up in the air, tilted her head back, and lowered it into her gaping mouth. She closed her lips over it and pulled it out slowly, sucking the salt off.

She dropped the spaghetti into a coil at his feet. "There you go." She did the same to the other noodles.

Andy shook his head in disbelief at her. "You are such a minx."

"Whatever. You can't get enough of it."

He snickered. She was right, he was a sucker for her sensual antics.

He devoured his meal hastily, finishing off four of the spaghetti noodles and taking just a few bites of the fifth. He washed it all down with two capfuls of water.

"Careful, you're going to make yourself sick."

Andy smacked his lips and burped. "That was the best meal I've ever had."

"It's the only meal you've had in a week," she exclaimed.

"Want my leftovers?" he said jokingly.

Kimberly's eyes lit up. "Sure. But I have an idea. Take that end of the spaghetti." He picked up the spaghetti in both hands. "Now hold on."

She lowered her puckered lips to the plate and sucked the end of the spaghetti into her mouth. Andy was yanked forward across the plate, his feet sliding on the slick, buttery surface. She was reeling him in like a fish. He accelerated towards her and slammed against her face. He lost hold of the spaghetti as it was sucked through her lips, and he landed on his butt on the plate.

Andy stared forward as her lips parted in front of him, and he saw the spaghetti noodle, as long as he was tall, bobbing on her pink, wet tongue. Then the tip of her tongue pitched upward against the ridged roof of her cavernous mouth, and the spaghetti disappeared down her throat.

"Mmm." She licked her lips and smiled down at him. "Did you like that?" she said throatilly. A redundant question. He liked everything she did.

Andy sighed, half in arousal, half in fear. "I… I need to use the bathroom."

It wasn't the reaction she was looking for, but as always his needs came first. She switched seamlessly into caregiver mode. "Here, I'll take you." She cupped her hands next to him and waited for him to hop on.

"I think I can manage, Kim."

"Mr. Speed, the last time you tried to use the toilet, you fell in and couldn't get out."

Andy couldn't argue with her. He knew this day would come. He and Alecia had talked about it, needing help to use the bathroom. He had put it off for as long as he could.

Something inside him died as he stepped into her hands. "If it makes you feel better, I've already seen you naked," she said helpfully.

She carried him to the downstairs bathroom. He walked off her palm onto the toilet lid. Crouching on the lid, his butt hanging over the toilet bowl, he let loose his bowels.

When he finished, Kimberly tore a square piece of toilet paper in half and handed him one half. While he wiped his butt, she moistened the other half under the faucet. He washed his hands with it and dropped it, too, in the toilet bowl. 

She pulled the flush handle, and his tiny excrement swirled down the drain. She sensed his humiliation as he hid his face from her. She sat down on the bathroom floor.

"Mr. Speed, I want you to tell you something."

"What?"

"No matter how small you get, no matter how incapable of talking care of yourself are, you're no less dependent than me or anyone else."

"How do you figure that?"

"We all need love to get through life, Mr. Speed. I need God's love every day. You do, too. No matter how big we may seem to ourselves, we are both specks to God. But you are His son and He will never stop loving you. And I will never stop loving you."

Andy regarded her. He felt weak in the knees. He couldn't believe what he was feeling, but there it was, unmistakable, and gathering force inside him like nothing else in this world. It was way beyond lust, way beyond gratitude. That this beautiful creature was so selflessly devoted to him made his heart sing soprano.

"Kim, you're… you're amazing. No one's done for me what you have. What I'm feeling right now, it's… There's no other way to describe it. I—" His voice caught. As much as he wanted to say it, he knew, once he said it, he couldn't take it back, for whatever reason. And this was an 18 year-old girl's emotions he was dealing with. She was still vulnerable, despite her size advantage.

But in so many ways she wasn't 18 anymore, not to him. She had an ageless wisdom and an ageless beauty about her. And she was flawed enough to make her real, and not some simplistic, wet dream fantasy girl. He didn't feel old around her, and she didn't feel young around him. When it was just the two of them, it was perfect.

But there was a world beyond them that saw a shrunken 40 year-old widower and an 18 year-old virgin. And this presented challenges that could stretch love to the breaking point.

Kimberly saw him struggling with the words. "Why don't you show me what you mean," she said.

She carried him up to her room. She flipped the light switch so the only light came through the window.

She set Andy on the bed and removed her skirt, revealing her long, toned thighs and a pair of black panties. Swaying her hips, she unbuttoned her blouse slowly, revealing her flat belly and a black, halter-style bra. His eyes bulged out of their sockets as she turned her back to him and reached down to touch the floor, so that her pert butt pointed towards the ceiling. He couldn't tell where the shadows of her butt cleavage ended and the string of her black panties began. She rose back up and reached around her back to undo the bra clasp. She covered her bust with one arm as she let the bra fall to the floor.

The striptease was over. She turned around, naked except for her necklace and panties. She lowered her arm from her ample breasts. "How do you want me?"

Enraptured, a disrobed Andy said, "Turn around."

She did as instructed, presenting her juicy backside to him.

"Back up."

She walked backwards until the backs of her thighs touched the bed. Andy reached for her butt, but it was too high.

Kimberly heard his frustration. She bent her knees, lowering her butt to his level. He squeezed her taut flesh in his arms, rubbed his face against her warm left butt cheek.

She crawled backwards onto the bed, tipping Andy onto his back. Supporting most of her weight on her elbows, she lowered herself onto his small body. Andy moaned as her big butt smothered him, mashing his hard cock against his belly. Her gyrating hips spread him across the bed comforter like jelly being spread on toast.

She continued her backwards crawl and settled onto the bed, so he was positioned deep in the V of her thighs. To his astonishment, she raised her hips and legs into the air, and pulled her black panties over her ankles. She let her legs drop into the bed, shaking the mattress violently.

Her fingers delved through the wisp of light brown hair, like caramel-flavored cotton candy, cloaking her private parts. She parted her folds, opening her pink, glistening vagina to him.

"Show me how you feel, Mr. Speed. You're just the right size." Her voice was husky and tense, almost fearful.

The one place I can't go, Andy thought. He walked towards her pussy, her musky aroma hitting him in the face like a stiff wind. He ran his fingers on her smooth thighs. She shivered at his delicate touch.

He hesitated at her opening. If he went feet first, he'd get as far as his waist before he started to stretch her. Head first, and he'd barely break the surface. She was a virgin, after all.

A virgin, he thought. I can't do this.

"What are you waiting for?" she said, voice cracking. "I want you, Mr. Speed. I've chosen you."

He scrambled over her thigh and walked alongside her huge body to her head. She turned her face to the side to look at him. Tears were streaking mascara down her cheeks.

"What's the matter? Don't you want me?" she asked.

"I do."

"Then fuck me!" she cried.

"You've given me everything already, Kim. I don't need this."

"But I need this," she said through clenched teeth. She rolled onto her side, expression changing to worry. "What's wrong? I thought this is what people who are in love do."

"You know better than that, Kim. Your first time should be with the man you marry."

"But you love me, don't you?"

"I—Things aren't supposed to move that fast. People who think they are in love break up all the time. You should wait, until you know it's not a fluke."

"Is this a fluke?"

"I dunno. It could be. Look, I'm not going to stay small forever. I'm not going to need your help forever. In 3 months my life will look completely different."

"But we can still see each other, can't we? You won't stop liking me just because you're taller than me."

He touched her cheek. "I'll always like you, Kim, no matter my size. But the relationship dynamics will be competely different when I'm big again. Will you be the woman who's blessed me with so much, or the cute, shy girl I knew just a month ago?"

Kimberly's mind turned over what he was saying. Her notions that Andy's shrinking hadn't changed him were undergoing a major revolution.

"We won't be around each other all day. I'll go back to work," he continued. "And then there's our age difference. You're 18. I turn 41 next month. There's so much of life that you won't get to experience being saddled to an old fart like me. Do you want children? We'd have to have them soon, because I can't keep up with toddlers in my 50s and 60s. And I'll be in my 70s when you turn 50. Can you handle being a widow at 50? What will your parents think when we tell them about us? My God, what will Brooke think? Do you really want your best friend calling you stepmom?"

She took in all that he said. Hearing Andy talk about children dulled the sting of the truth he was preaching. She wanted to have lots of babies.

"I see what you mean," she said soberly. "I guess I should keep my expectations in check."

Andy could see he'd gone too far in throwing cold water on her passion. "All I'm saying is I don't want to make a promise with my body that I can't keep, hurting you in the long term. These are evolving circumstances we're dealing with. But we might be able to work through them. I WANT to work through them. I meant everything I said downstairs. I love you, Kim."

Her breath caught. He'd said it. It wasn't the first time she'd heard it, nor the second time, but it was the one time she would remember forever.

"I love you, too. And you're right, Mr. Speed. Thank you… for looking out for me."

"You don't have to call me that anymore, Kim. 'Andy' is fine."

"Okay, Andy."

They looked at each other for awhile, wondering what to do next. They were still really horny.

"We won't know what a normal relationship will be like until I'm normal sized again," he said.

"I dunno. I kinda like you at this size." She reached behind his back to hold him steady, and she stretched her neck to kiss him. Andy felt like his face was being sucked off.

"Then we should enjoy it while it lasts," he said breathlessly.

She lifted and pivoted her chest on top of him. Her breasts, pancaking against the bed, pinned his arms to his sides and practically entombed his body below the shoulders in her cleavage. She felt his prick stiffen under her.

"If we're not going to have sex, we'll have to find other ways for you to stimulate me." She lifted a large nipple to his face. "Any ideas, Andy?"

Andy smiled. "I got one or two."

"Let's play a game," Kimberly said.

Andy had grown fond of hearing those words from his girlfriend over the last few days. When he wasn't sleeping or eating, Kimberly kept his slate full of activities. It wasn't just the creative ways she found to stimulate him with her voluptuous body. It was the endless fun his ever diminishing size allowed them to have.

One game had him climb her tall body and then swan dive into a bucket of water next to her. Another game had him bench-press her fingers. Another had him navigate a maze/obstacle course she had set up using books and furniture. Yet another had him hold onto one of his old rock albums while it spun on the record player. When it rained, Kimberly took him outside and he dodged balloon-sized water droplets on the driveway. There seemed to be no limit to the amusement one could derive from interacting with familiar objects.

None of the games involving heights were truly dangerous, since the acceleration of gravity didn't scale up with everything else in his oversized world. So falling what looked like 80 feet from the top of Kimberly's head was really falling less than 6 feet. Once Andy got over the inate fear of falling to his death, he felt invincible.

"What are we doing this time?" he asked.

"First I need to put my swimsuit on. Meet me in the pool."

He rubbed his hands together eagerly. He hadn't seen Kimberly in her swimsuit since he was 20 inches tall, and married. She was five times bigger in every direction now, five times the sexy playground she'd been just 2 weeks ago.

Remarkable how distant his 19-year marriage with Alecia seemed to him now. It was to Kimberly's credit that he was almost completely over losing his wife. Almost. Occasionally, when he was around Brooke, he felt the loss of the maternal things Alecia used to do that had fallen to him to do, or at least emulate. Kimberly was a great help in this regard, giving him advice and offering a female perspective on things. She was becoming more qualified as a stepmom by the day. Just the day before, Andy and Kimberly had a grown-up talk about hiding their relationship from Brooke for awhile, as well as keeping Alicia's presumed infidelity under wraps forever.

Kimberly's massive form came down the stairs and headed out the sliding door into the backyard. From the floor, Andy couldn't see her face over her large breasts, supported in the aqua-colored bikini top. That was becoming more of an issue lately, even when she carried him around in her palm. He assumed if they were going to have a future together, he would have to talk more to her face than to her buxom chest.

She left the sliding door open and dove into the pool. It took Andy a minute with his 2-inch strides to reach the pool. He removed his voice amplifier, which Amazon had delivered a few days ago, to avoid shorting it in the water. It took another couple of minutes to swim to the deep end, where Kimberly treaded water, waiting for him.

He stopped next to her billboard-sized face. "What are we doing?" he asked again.

"You're going to swim through my legs."

"And what's my prize when I do it?"

"I'll tell you when you do it."

Andy dipped his head under the water to see how far down he would have to go to get through her legs. All he saw was Kimberly's pale mammaries forming a floor directly under him.

His head popped up out of the water. "Haha, very funny."

"Having trouble seeing that far down, big guy?" She scooped up her soft breasts in her hands and lifted them up. Andy rose completely out of the water on his hands and knees, her shelf-like breast trembling under him. She lowered her lips to engulf his head in a teasing kiss, and let her breasts fall back against her chest. He slid down her slippery hills back into the water.

Andy swam a ways from his girlfriend and looked under the water. Her bikini bottoms were at least 30 feet down, which wasn't bad. When he was a competitive swimmer he routinely free-dived to depths of 50 and 60 feet. But that was 20 years ago.

He looked at Kimberly skeptically. She wouldn't challenge him with something easy. "What's the catch?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she said innocently.

"You're going to stay still, right? You're not gonna make me swim after you or dive all the way to the bottom?"

"I promise," she said, holding her hand up, like she was taking a pledge.

Andy took a couple of deep breaths to saturate his lungs, and he dove under. He took an angled path through the water, using his strongest stroke, the breaststroke. Kimberly's graceful neck, then her round breasts rose above him as he went past 15 feet (proportionally speaking). He pinched his nose and swallowed to equalize the pressure in his inner ear. He reached her toned belly and turned straight down, passing her belly button, then her smooth pelvis. Her tan thighs were two thick pillars, which met at her puckering pussy lips, visible through her soaked bikini bottoms at this close range.

He pulled himself through the narrow opening of her thighs, his body tipping past vertical until he was floating face up in her shadowy crotch, less than inch from her huge labia. He reached up and touched it.

All of a sudden, Kimberly's thighs closed around him, shutting out the sunlight from above. He let out a gulp of air in surprise, tried to pry her meaty gams apart with his arms. But his squirming against her pussy only excited her further. Her legs bent and twisted, rolling Andy between them. He lost all his oxygen reserves as his body was squeezed and tossed around in the dark, deep water. He no longer knew which way was up.

His lungs burned. He had maybe 30 seconds before he drowned. He went still, and the pressure instantly eased. The sunlight reappeared. He drifted out of the cleft of Kimberly's tight, round butt, right behind her vagina. A huge hand reached through the front of her legs, searching for him. He turned upright and kicked to the surface.

"Andy!" he heard her shrieking, as she searched the water.

"Kim, behind you!" he shouted, so he could be heard over the loud, sloshing water.

Her broad shoulders turned, and relief came over her. She cupped her hand behind him and pulled him into the hollow of her neck. "Thank God! I thought I lost you."

He lay across her collar bone, catching his breath. "No sweat, Kim. It wasn't that hard."

She held him in front of her face, eyebrows angled towards her nose. "Why did you touch me there?! You could have drowned!"

Andy could feel the force of her anger surging through her body, and he was genuinely frightened. She could shake him to pieces without even trying.

"Kim, I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd react like that."

She touched her forehead and closed her eyes, forcing herself to mellow. "It's okay. You're okay, that's all that matters. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

He wanted to kiss her, to hold her, to make her feel safe and protected. It was times like this where he most acutely felt his size deficiency.

"I'm guessing I won't be getting that prize."

She chuckled, releasing the tension in her body. "Oh, yes you are. A deal's a deal, Andy."

She carried him back into the house and upstairs to her room. She set him on the nightstand and undressed. His eyes bugged out as she stripped completely naked in front of him and dried off. She pulled on a flesh-toned bra, panties, and tight-fitting jeans.

"What's the prize?" he asked.

"Brooke buys nothing but junk food, so I need to go to the store to pick up some real food. You're coming with me."

Andy's shoulders sagged. "That's it?"

She took a yellow blouse out of the closet and sat back on her heels in front of the nightstand. "I didn't tell you WHERE I'll be carrying you."

He perked up. "Where?"

She stood up on her knees, elevating her breasts to his level. Her hard nipples stood out through the sheer bra cups. "In my bra, of course."

"You're going to carry me in your bra, in public?" His mouth felt dry.

She pulled her hair back and to the side. "Isn't that exciting?"

Very, he thought. "Won't people notice? I don't think I'm small enough that people wouldn't notice."

She smiled as she reached around her back to unhook her bra. "Oh ye of little faith. You don't think my big bra is big enough for you, Andy?" She raised the bra by the thick strap and dropped it. Andy cowered as one of the enormous cups fell over him. "What do you think now?"

He stood up and looked around him, gobsmacked. He was in another world, Kimberly's bra cup! The soft, flesh-toned hemisphere was 15 feet in diameter (proportionally speaking) and had a curved ceiling that he had to jump to touch. It was bigger than the office.

He ran around the bra cup's circumference, imaging Kimberly's enormous breast residing in this space. It was becoming difficult to keep up with the pace of his shrinking, as the daily changes, once undetectable, were now redefining his physical relationship with reality.

He noticed the tag on the inner rim of the bra cup. 36G. He crawled out from underneath the bra. "You're a G cup?" he said.

"Does that surprise you?"

"Well… Your red bra said 38F."

She giggled playfully. "Andy, have you been sneaking looks at my bra tags?" 

"It was an accident, but yeah, of course I looked. I'm a guy, aren't I?"

She picked up the bra and pulled the loops over her arms. "Since the summer started, I've lost a few pounds. Before, my 38F bras were a touch too tight for my bust. Now they're loose around my chest, too. 36G is more comfortable, because it doesn't hurt my boobs, and the strap doesn't move around."

She pushed the cups flush against her breasts and modeled the fit for him. "See?"

She filled the cups. Filled them, the same cups that dwarfed his body. "Wow, Kim. A G cup. That's…"

"Yes?"

He swallowed. "Big." And not a hint of sag, a testament to her underlying muscle tone and overall fitness.

She secured the bra clasp. "A G cup means my bust sticks out 7 inches from my chest. And you're about 4 inches tall. So, as you can see, it's not even close. You can fit easily next to my boob inside these cups, and no one will notice. Even if they did, who wants to be the guy to ask a stranger in public what she's got in her bra?"

Kimberly could be very persuasive when she wanted. "Okay, Kim," he said, feigning reluctance. "If you insist, I'll let you carry me in your bra cup."

"Good. Now, left breast, or right breast?"

Was there a wrong answer? It was like a reverse Scylla and Charybdis.

"Left."

"Are you ready to go?"

He nodded. He climbed into her palm and she positioned him over the slope of her left breast, where the flesh-toned cup subtly transitioned to her skin.

"Oh, and I forgot to mention." She scooped her fingernail inside his tiny waistband and ripped his underwear down. "You're going naked."

"What? Hey—"

"And I can't have you talking, either. My boobs are pretty amazing, but if they start talking, people will get suspicious." She tilted his head into her palm and shook the voice amplifier out of his ear. She placed the tiny device gingerly on the nightstand.

"Careful, Kim!" he shouted.

"In you go." She peeled the bra cup off her chest and tilted him off her hand. He rolled off her giving flesh and disappeared under the cup, gaining speed as the grade steepened. He came to rest a jumble of arms and legs above her nipple.

She lowered the bra cup gently against her chest. She giggled at the amorphous bump on her breast, like a massive, mutant second nipple. "You have to lay flat, Andy." She smoothed her hand over her hefty globe.

Andy adjusted himself so his front faced her breast, his legs sticking almost straight out. Her passing hand pressed him deep into her. Her skin, rough from the swimming pool, billowed around his body and between his legs. His stiff cock spasmed once, but he stayed on the edge. That was close, he thought.

"I can barely see you, Andy. Are you enjoying yourself in there?"

"Yeah!" he shouted, rolling his head to the side to avoid getting a mouthful of doughy breast.

She could see and feel his tiny body moving around, and her heart swelled with maternal pride. Was this what it was like to carry a baby in her womb? she wondered.

"I'm going to put my blouse on now," she said. She put her arms through the arm holes and buttoned up the front. To Andy, it seemed as if someone had dimmed the lights.

"How's that, Andy?"

"Fine!"

She checked herself in the dresser mirror. She was just another girl out on an errand. No one would know she had a man in her bra. Andy was invisible on her. She shuddered with arousal, felt a dampness in her crotch. It boggled her mind that he was going to get even smaller.

She pressed her large breasts together. She wanted Andy to feel their weight, the power of her womanly charms that had won him over long before they fell in love. She still wielded that power, and she got a headrush reminding him of that. If only there was a way to keep him like this forever, they could make each other so happy.

She felt a sudden, spastic movement and a spreading warmth on her left breast.

"Andy, did you just ejaculate?"

"Yeah," came his muffled response.

That didn't take long, she thought slyly. She slung her purse over her shoulder and headed out to her car.

It took all of Andy's concentration not to blow his stack again in the grocery store parking lot. The quaking of Kimberly's breasts with every step she took felt like he was being dry-humped by a moonbounce.

His prior load had smeared and dried between his belly and her enormous left breast, forming an adhesive. He pulled his knees up and pushed against her to peel his lower abdomen off her skin. "Ah," he groaned, relishing the feeling of air on his privates.

She giggled as she entered the store. "Someone is having entirely too much fun in there."

He didn't answer. He had to change his position, or he'd be coming all afternoon in her bra. He braced his arms against her supple flesh and pushed his back against the bra. The G cup was flexible and bowed out half an inch, creating enough space for him to turn his tiny body sideways.

Kimberly was testing avocados for ripeness when she felt a disturbance in her bra cup. She glanced down at her chest, saw her yellow blouse distort as Andy moved around. She flushed red and looked around at the women standing next to her in the produce section, certain that they had detected the little man struggling inside her bra. But they all went about their shopping, none the wiser.

Andy had succeeded in turning himself around so his front faced the soft interior of Kimberly's bra cup. But his movement had caused him to slip down, so that his legs straddled her areola.

Kimberly pushed the shopping cart into the frozen goods aisle. She opened the door to the freezer to get a package of frozen green beans.

Andy shivered as cold air washed over his naked body. Goosebumps the size of grapes stood out on Kimberly's skin, and he felt a hardness behind his knee. He pushed his head out to look down. Her beige nipple had stiffened. It was football-shaped, and over a foot long to him. He smiled wickedly and squeezed it between the soles of his bare feet.

A shot of white-hot light streaked from Kimberly's left breast through her body and exploded between her thighs. Her knees felt weak, and she clung to the shopping cart for support. She pushed herself up straight and looked down at her rock-solid nipples.

"Quit it!" she hissed.

A man in his 80s wearing a Korean War veteran hat stopped next to her. "Are you all right, miss?"

She looked up from her chest and smiled and nodded effusively. "Yes, just a little dizzy, that's all."

"You're not getting enough nutrients," the old man said. "Girls your age should eat more. You'd be healthier. Forget about looking skinny. A healthy, full-figured woman is what men are after."

"Thanks," she said. "I'm very healthy."

He saluted and moved past her. If he had been a younger man, she would have been offended at the unsolicited advice. But there was an innocent charm that men from fading generations had that made it impossible to be angry at anything they said.

When he left the frozen goods aisle, she checked her crotch for dampness. She flicked the tiny mass above her nipple. "You're going to get us caught!"

The tip of Kimberly's huge finger jabbed Andy in the throat, causing him to choke. "Sorry!" he rasped.

Kimberly continued shopping. Over the next 10 minutes, Andy remained relatively still, and she was able to focus on getting the items on her list.

She passed a boy shopping by himself in the bread aisle. As she was checking expiration dates on loaves of bread, she felt the boy's eyes watching her. She glanced at him, and he looked away nervously.

That's not a boy, she thought. "Paul?"

The 4 foot, 5 inch man forced a wan smile. "Hello, Kim. I thought that was you."

She walked towards him, forgetting her enmity. "I don't believe it."

"What's going on?!" Andy shouted.

"Shush," she said to her breasts. She stopped a couple of paces away from Paul. "Why aren't you at work?"

"I went on disability leave yesterday," he said. Speaking seemed to give him pain. He looked sick, frailer than Andy was when she saw him at roughly the same size a month ago. He had none of the liveliness or charisma of the 6-foot tall bachelor she had gone on a date with. He was taking it hard, his shrinking.

"You look well," he said.

"And you look…" Her voice trailed off.

"I know," he said with a shrug. "It's been tough. Tougher than I thought it would be."

"Amazing how a little change in perspective reveals defects in your character." She covered her mouth, surprised at herself. She didn't know she could be that cruel. The words had come out of her without conscious decision.

"I'm sorry, Paul. I—"

"It's okay, Kim. It's nothing I haven't told myself a hundred times since I started shrinking." His voice regained some confidence. "I realized so much of my self-image depends on my worldly stature. The shrinking disease has temporarily robbed me of that. I see things more clearly now."

She beamed. "So you're using this as an opportunity for reflection."

He nodded. "It wasn't a choice. It just happened that way."

"Well, I think that's great."

They stood in front of each other awkwardly. They'd cleared the air, but they both sensed there could be no true reconciliation between them. He wasn't a bad man, he'd just done something bad that she couldn't forget.

"So, how's Andy doing?" he asked.

"He's doing fine. Better than fine, actually," she added with a smirk.

The conversation was difficult for Andy to follow, as every sound that didn't come from Kimberly was muffled by her bra and her blouse, and every sound that did come from her he received through vibrations in her soft breasts. But he knew they were talking about him. He squirmed in the bra cup at hearing his name. The movement was enough to catch Paul's attention, as his face was even with Kimberly's bust, each breast as voluminous as his head.

Her breath caught. Did he see Andy? Did he know? Her apprehension curtailed her discomfort at Paul's obvious gawking, affording him a longer look than was proper.

He blushed, looked away. He was embarrassed that he still wanted her after all that had happened. On their date she was so close to becoming his, and here she was, looking effortlessly sexy, standing just a few feet away from him but out of his reach forever.

"That's good to know," he said finally. "The shrinking disease is a challenge in itself. I can't imagine losing someone close to me at the same time. If he needs a friend to talk to, if he still thinks of me as a friend…"

"I'll tell him," she said, recognizing the offer as Paul's own way of asking for help himself.

"Thanks." Another stretch of silence. "Well, see ya." He turned away, effectively ending the conversation.

He's so sweet, Kimberly thought. Like a lost, little puppy. She resisted the urge to ruffle his hair.

She started to head back to her shopping cart, but she spotted the brand of bread she was looking for on the top shelf next to Paul. She leaned forward and stood on her toes to reach it. Her large shadow fell over Paul's boyish frame. Conscious of her massive form behind him, he turned around, only to plant his face in her buxom chest.

"Oh!" she cried. Her yellow blouse pulled taut as his head slipped into her cleavage, and the tops of her soft breasts molded to his features. He lost his balance and was about to topple over backwards, but she instinctively brought her hand behind his narrow shoulders to keep him upright, holding his small chest against her toned belly, and smushing his face between her mounds.

The flesh-toned dome of Kimberly's bra cup pressed in on Andy and pulled him to his right, towards her cleavage. Paul's cheek, two layers of fabric away, was an immense, black shadow against the already dark confines of her left bra cup.

"Excuse me!" she said, mortified, lowering onto her heels and pulling her chest away. For Andy, the black shadow brushed past him, and the bra cup resettled over the center of Kimberly's left breast. He slid lower, his butt and back sliding over her areola. What the hell was going on?

He writhed in her bra like mad, and there was no mistaking that Paul saw it, the form of a tiny man, who could only be Andy, wiggling meekly against her round breast. A breast so vast and so imposing that it overpowered a grown man with its sheer mass and raw sensuality.

Paul looked up into her eyes. It took a moment for the full implications of what he was seeing to dawn on him. And then in a brilliant flash all the erotic possibilities of shrinking to such a small size flooded into his brain at once.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body twitched. Kimberly backed away, considered calling for help. Hunched over, Paul grabbed the shelves behind him to control the convulsions, which were more pronounced below the waist. It wasn't a seizure. He was coming in his pants.

"Shit," Paul muttered, looking with shame at the spreading stain on his crotch.

Kimberly felt embarassed, scared, amused, and aroused all at once. She had to get out of there. She touched her forehead. "Oh, wow. Uh, I have to go!"

She ran to her shopping cart, bouncing Andy nearly to the point of unconsciousness, and left the store as quickly as she could.

In the car, she released the top buttons of her blouse and lifted Andy to the top of her bra cup so they could have a chat. She told him everything that happened with Paul: the good (his personal character growth), the bad (his seeing Andy in her bra), and the ugly (his faceplant in her breasts and spontaneous ejaculation).

"Sounds like two goods and a bad to me," Andy joked.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Andy. He knows about us. Unless you've changed your mind about going public with our relationship, we need to make sure he doesn't tell anyone."

"We made that decision together, Kim. Remember?"

"The point is, we need him to keep quiet. What if he tells someone? What if he tells Brooke?"

"How would he tell Brooke? And WHY would he tell anyone? You seem to think he's a swell guy now."

"Well, yeah, he is," she said defensively.

"So what's the problem?"

She sighed. "I just feel like… It's hard for me to keep this a secret. My life has completely changed, but I have to pretend for everyone that things are the same. I'm afraid it's going to get out somehow, and I don't want my parents to find out from anyone but us."

Andy stood up on her breast, his feet making small dents in her supple flesh. He weighed practically nothing to her.

"It's too soon, Kim. I'm not ready."

"I know. I understand." She sniffled. "I won't rush you."

He climbed up to her collar bone. He pet her graceful neck and stroked her unkempt, chestnut-colored hair. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

She played with her fingers. A tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't know. I just… I want to start my life with you, you know? For years I've imagined what it would be like to be with you." She took a deep breath. "But I realize it's still a new idea for you. And we need to work through a few things before making it official. But…" Her upper lip stiffened. "Don't make me wait long, Andy."

"I won't."

She sighed with relief and lifted him to her mouth for a kiss. He pecked her lip, but she opened her mouth and offered him her wet, pink tongue, as long as his body and many times stronger. He mouthed the tip of her tongue, which smothered and lapped his face. Her plump, pink lips gradually encircled his head and neck as they made out. Her moans rang loudly in his ears. Andy felt himself being drawn in deeper by her hot, powerful mouth. His little feet lifted off her hand, and quickly his shoulders and chest passed between her lips. She wanted him. ALL of him.

He tapped her upper lip with his hand. Kimberly levered her jaw open and he pulled himself out of her mouth, falling on his naked butt in her palm. He was coated in her sticky saliva. "Easy, there, tiger."

"Was that more than you could handle, big guy?" she said sultrily.

"It was your breath. You could use a mint."

She puckered her lips and blasted him with her breath. The gale-force wind pushed him across her palm. He clung to her pinky to keep from going over the edge.

She giggled. Her eyes flicked past Andy's kicking legs at a woman walking in front of the car. She was looking through the windshield at them.

She gasped, and she closed her hand around Andy to conceal him, while crossing her arms to hide her exposed chest. The woman scowled at her and kept walking.

When the woman was out of sight, Kimberly opened her hand. "What happened?" Andy asked, standing up.

"Someone saw us," she whispered.

He walked onto her chest. "Us, or you? I'm kinda hard to see."

"As if I needed reminding of that. Let's get out of here." She took her keys out of her purse and put them in the ignition. She glanced down at Andy and cleared her throat.

"What?" he said.

"Are you going to go back in my bra or not?"

"Come on, Kim. I've spent enough time with your breasts. I wanna spend time with you."

"Aw, that's sweet." She lifted her bra cups and shimmied her shoulders, sending a ripple through her corpulent flesh that shook Andy off his feet and sent him rolling on his side down her steep hills into her right bra cup. Andy's back hit the bra cup and he slid to the bottom, watching Kimberly's face above him be eclipsed by her massive, pale orb.

"You will, when we get home," she said, smoothing her hands over the bra cups. "I can't have you roaming freely in the car. If we get in a crash, you'll bounce around like a pinball."

"I suppose getting crushed to death in your breasts would be a better way to go," he shouted up at her sarcastically.

She poked him in the back, plastering his tiny body in her soft, expansive underboob. "Don't be a smart-aleck." She started the car and headed home.

Brooke, driving Andy's car, pulled into the driveway at the same time as Kimberly, so she had to keep Andy in her bra for a little while longer. Brooke helped bring in the groceries and stock the pantry, all the while chattering about her day.

"Where's my dad?" she asked.

"Uh, he's sleeping. You shouldn't wake him up." It wasn't technically a lie. Andy had fallen asleep in her bra during the car ride home.

"I'm glad he's doing better. It's all thanks to you, Kim." Brooke shut the pantry door and winced.

"What's the matter?"

Brooke lifted her hands and squeezed her swollen breasts through her ice cream server uniform. "My boobs are so sensitive."

"Are they still getting bigger?"

She nodded. "And they're stiff as a board. Here, feel." She reached for Kimberly's right hand and pulled it into her young, left breast.

Brooke acted too quickly for Kimberly to resist. Before she knew what was happening, she was holding her friend's breast in her hand.

"They're, uh, really firm," Kimberly said, trying to sound clinical. Brooke had always been a flirty girl, but her behavior had gone to new extremes this summer. And it had nothing to do with the emotional trauma of her mom dying, because she had felt Kimberly up in the dressing room at the mall before that.

"I know. I don't even need a bra. They practically support themselves." Brooke pushed the back of Kimberly's hand, squeezing her healthy, D-cup breast against her chest. Kimberly felt her friend's nipple rising into her palm. She blushed.

"Mine were pretty firm when I started growing last year," Kimberly said. "They softened up after a few months."

"I hope mine do that. I love your soft boobs." Still holding Kimberly's hand against her chest, Brooke reached out with her right hand to sample what her best friend had to offer.

Kimberly panicked as Brooke moved towards her, hesitating a fraction of a second to decide which of her breasts to cop a feel of. If she felt Andy, it was game over. There was a 50-50 chance she chose the breast he was on, a 50-50 chance all their secrecy and all their discretion blew up in their faces.

Kimberly raised her hand to intercept Brooke's, and she guided Brooke's hand to her left breast. Part of her was disappointed in her decision. She wanted Brooke to feel her dad on her, to know that they were in love. But he wasn't ready, and she respected that. He wanted to go slow. Slower was probably better.

Brooke, thinking she'd been invited to do so, proceeded to squeeze and massage Kimberly's massive tit, which overflowed her dainty hand. "I can't believe you've been on one date in your whole life with these boy baiters."

"Maybe I'm not interested in boys," Kimberly replied absent-mindedly, her mind on the 40 year-old man currently napping under her other breast.

"Me neither," Brooke said, focused on her ministrations to her best friend's bosom. "At least, I think I like girls just as much as boys. And if we're being really honest, girls are more attractive than boys in general."

Kimberly looked at her, thinking she hadn't heard her right. "What?"

"Boys are so dirty and rough-edged. Their bodies are made for hunting and fighting. Girls' bodies are made for sex and childbearing. We're curvier, softer. God made us to nourish," Brooke explained. She gently traced her thumb around Kimberly's left nipple, visible over the stretched, yellow blouse. "Don't you think?"

"I dunno. I never thought of it that way."

Brooke sighed longingly. Her hand left Kimberly's bosom to caress her toned upper arm. "Well, it's a fact. That's why there are way more lesbians than gay guys."

Kimberly regarded her friend, backed away from her so both their hands fell to their sides. "I… think I'm going to take a nap before dinner."

Brooke nodded. She went to the living room and turned on the TV. Kimberly took Andy upstairs, removed him from her bra, and placed him in the crib.

"I heard Brooke's voice," he said to her, half asleep. "How's she doing?"

"Fine." A little nuts, but fine.

He shut his eyes and rolled onto his side. "Thanks for all that you do, Kim. I love you."

"I love you." She set the voice amplifier next to him and went to her room. She checked herself in the mirror. Before crawling into bed, she checked herself in the dresser mirror. Given how strangely the afternoon had played out, she was glad to see she looked completely normal.

Next morning, Kimberly made sure Andy was clothed and fed. Then she had him do that thing with his feet on her nipple, which brought her to a satisfying orgasm. As her body shuddered in ecstasy underneath him, he lost his balance and fell between her naked breasts. She had a time of it, getting him out of her cleavage without hurting him, especially since Andy, who was unaware of the danger her unsupported 36G breasts posed to him, was reluctant to leave.

But she knew better. She knew her breasts must be very heavy to him, heavy enough to flatten his tiny body should gravity or any of Newton's three laws of motion unpredictably shift her teardrop-shaped swells into his fragile form. Letting him ride in her bra cup was one thing. The strap bore most of her payload, and the cups evenly spread out the rest. Her cleavage was a different animal. When she gave him a ride in her cleavage 5 days ago, he was three times as tall and 27 times as massive. She could be a little rough with him back then; now, she didn't even want to attempt such a thing.

She needed to be extra cautious, as she was at a dangerous size in relation to him. Her most casual movements could crush or suffocate him. And the worst of it was still to come. It would be a great relief to her when he started to grow back.

All that being said, there were other ways she could please him. The opportunities afforded by his size were by no means exhausted. After her orgasm, she let him put moisturizer on her feet. With her feet pointing up, he squeezed himself between her big toe and second toe, and thrusted his hard penis over the top of her second toe. When he came, she pinched his little dick between her toes and it had the effect of sticking your thumb in a garden hose. Andy's cock sprayed all over the top of her foot, semen landing as far as her ankle, a relative distance of 20 feet.

Playtime was over. She carried him into the bathroom and made a bath for him in the sink. The sink was now bigger than the swimming pool, from his perspective. After he bathed, she cut his beard to a manageable length with some infant toenail clippers. They brushed their teeth together, Andy resorting to his finger, as his toothbrush was over twice as long as his body. 

"Remember that girl Debra's birthday that I missed?" she asked as she flossed. The specks of food that came off on the floss were snack-sized to Andy.

"Not really," he said, spitting into the sink.

"Well, her birthday party was supposed to be Saturday, but one of my friends called last night and told me she called it off the day of the party."

"Why?"

"Well, my friend said it was because Debra's boyfriend cheated on her with some slut he met at college orientation, and she took it hard. They'd been a couple since they were juniors in high school. My friend just found out about it yesterday." She looked at him. "Would you mind coming with me to visit with her?"

"To Debra's house?" he asked. She nodded. "I dunno, Kim. She's probably not feeling high on the male sex at the moment."

"It'll be okay. I'll leave you with her mom or something."

Andy felt weird about being left with a stranger while Kimberly comforted Debra, but by now he was used to trusting her judgment, so he didn't voice his doubts.

Unfortunately, because this was an "official" visit, he couldn't ride in Kimberly's bra to Debra's house. He had to settle for a ride in a drink koozie, nestled in the cup holder of her car.

When they got there, Kimberly cupped him in her palm and carried him to the door. Debra answered the door. She was a pretty girl, tall and athletic, like most of Kimberly's volleyball teammates, but she looked like she hadn't seen the light of day in a week.

"Hey," Kimberly said warmly, hugging her teammate and friend. She presented Andy. "I brought a friend."

"Hey, Mr. Speed. I'm sorry about Mrs. Speed."

"Thank you, Debra."

"Can I leave him with your mom?" Kimberly asked.

"She's out running errands. You can leave him with Alice, if you want."

"Who's Alice?" Andy asked, wanting to be involved in the discussion. He disliked it when people talked about him like he wasn't there.

"My sister," Debra said.

Kimberly recognized her boyfriend's nervousness. "Would you like to watch TV instead, Mr. Speed?" She still called him that in public, to keep up the appearance of a Platonic, caregiver-dependent relationship.

"Yeah."

"He can watch the TV downstairs," Debra suggested.

Kimberly carried him inside, through the entryway into the living room. "Your dogs are outside, right?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Good. We don't want Mr. Speed to be mistaken for dog food."

"Ha ha," Andy intoned.

Andy walked off Kimberly's hand onto the coffee table. He ran over to the TV remote and jumped on the power button. It didn't move a millimeter. He was so light, he couldn't even press a button to turn the TV on.

A huge finger descended from the sky and crushed down on the power button on the remote. The TV flicked on. Andy watched the finger, as long and as thick as him, lift back up into the sky.

"Thanks, Debra."

"No problem, Mr. Speed," she said gaily. "Can I get you anything?"

"A cap of water, please."

"'A cap'?" she mouthed to Kimberly.

"A bottle cap," Kimberly explained.

"Oh." Debra went to the kitchen and came back a minute later with a red bottle cap full of water.

"Thanks, Debra," he said.

"You're welcome." She and Kimberly pounded up the stairs to her room, their heavy footfalls shaking the house. "He's so cute," he overheard her saying.

"I know," Kimberly replied.

Andy turned his attention to the TV. It was tuned to the Game Show Network. The next hour flew by. He made himself comfortable on a stack of magazines and played along with the shows, shouting at the TV with his voice amplifier turned off. He slaked his occasional thirst from the bottle cap. It was like drinking water out of a large salad bowl. To Andy it was 2 feet in diameter and held about 2 gallons of water.

Someone came down the stairs in the middle of Lingo. At first glance it looked like Debra, but this girl was shorter (which meant marginally less astronomical to Andy) and younger. She was wearing athletic shorts and a large, white T-shirt that hung over her chubby body. She was at that stage of puberty between sprouting bountiful, shapeless breasts and growing those last couple of inches when baby fat converts to lean, nubile flesh.

The girl stopped and looked at the TV, then she walked over to the coffee table, picked up the remote, and turned it off.

Andy turned his voice amplifier on. "I was watching that."

She startled and looked around the living room wildly. "Who's there?"

"I'm down here, on the coffee table. On the magazines," he added.

Her eyes went wide when she saw him. "Oh my gosh, a little man!"

"I'm Andy Speed. I'm a friend of a friend of your sister's."

She put her hands on her knees and bent down to get a closer look at him. "Hi Andy. I'm Alice. How did you get so small?"

Andy resisted looking down the neckhole at the young girl's large, amorphous breasts. "I ate some bad fish," he said.

Her face screwed up. Andy could tell she wasn't used to wry humor, let alone from 3-inch tall men.

"I'm kidding. I have the shrinking disease," he explained.

"Oh." She turned the TV back on and walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a Coca-Cola from the fridge and looked out the window into the backyard. She opened the backdoor and two dogs trotted into the living room.

Andy's body tensed. "What are you doing?"

"Letting Ruffles and Toby inside. It's hot out there."

"Keep them away from me!"

"It's okay, they don't bite."

"They don't bite people, but they don't know I'm not a chew toy!"

The dogs made their way to the coffee table, their eerily large heads pointed curiously at Andy. Their jowls smeared drool over the glass top. The sound of their breathing and sniffing was terrifying.

Andy ran to the other side of the baseball diamond-sized coffee table. One of the dogs, a boxer, jumped and landed his front paws on the table.

"Ruffles! Be nice to the little man." Alice yanked him back by the collar so he was on all fours on the floor.

"You heard her. Shoo!" Andy shouted in his most authoritative voice. The brown lab, Toby, whined and backed away. Ruffles was unfazed. He jumped on the coffee table again. The sharp impact of the boxer's nails on the glass hurt Andy's ears.

Ruffles lowered his head towards Andy, sniffing loudly. Quicker than Andy realized, the dog was way too close for comfort. A huge, wet tongue darted out of its man-sized maw.

"Alice, help!"

A hand came out of nowhere, wrapped around Andy, and lifted him up rapidly. Alice's arm hung against her side as she disciplined the dog.

"Ruffles, if you can't play nice with Andy, then I'll have to play with him myself."

Oh, great, Andy thought.

"Let's play in my room," she announced. With her hand still gripping his body, she ran up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms. Being held tightly in her stuffy, unsteady fist made him nauseous. It made him appreciate the trouble Kimberly went through to make him feel comfortable.

Alice set him down on the carpet in the middle of her pink-walled bedroom. He looked around, finding himself surrounded by Barbie dolls and a tall pile of miniature clothes.

"Barbie?" Andy said, holding in laughter. "Aren't you a little old to be playing with dolls?"

"I'm only 12." She picked up one Barbie doll, who was dressed in a short skirt and halter top, and stood her next to him. She giggled, "You barely come up to Barbie's knee."

He looked up at the 23-foot tall doll (proportionally speaking), with the long legs, cartoonishly narrow waist, large bust, bright blue eyes, and blonde ponytail. Just a couple of weeks ago Kimberly had looked as big to him as this doll. He felt a sudden shortage of space in his tiny underwear.

God, what's wrong with me? It's just a doll, he thought.

"Barbie's never seen such a small man before," Alice said. She manipulated Barbie's legs and neck so it looked like the doll was inspecting him. The realism was uncanny.

"I got an idea!" she exclaimed. She started taking the doll's clothes off. "You're an Ewok on the planet Endor, and astronaut Barbie is the first human visitor to your planet." Her hand plunged into the pile of miniature clothes and pulled out a spacesuit.

"Why do I have to be an Ewok? Can't I be a Tusken Raider on Tatooine?"

"No, Andy," she said. "You're the perfect size for an Ewok."

"If we're on Endor, Barbie wouldn't need a spacesuit. The air is breathable," he pointed out.

"Shut up, Andy! This is my game, so I make up the rules." She had the spacesuit assembled. She raised Barbie high overhead and made a whooshing sound deep in her throat as she lowered the doll to the floor.

Alice flipped Barbie's helmet off and shook her blonde hair free. Barbie looked around, her movements natural in Alice's practiced hands. "What a strange place," Alice voiced in a high pitch.

Barbie started walking around. Her leg bumped into Andy.

"Oh! Who's this?"

"I'm Andy the Ewok," Andy said, humoring the young girl.

"Cool, an alien lifeform!" Alice squealed. Barbie's stiff, manicured hand reached out and touched his face, surprisingly gentle. "I think I'll call you Cuddleston, because you look so cuddly."

"Uh, okay. I'll call you Princess…"

"Alice!" Alice interjected.

"Okay. Princess Alice. What brings you to my planet, fair maiden?"

"I'm with my boyfriend exploring the galaxy for new worlds."

Andy's face screwed up. "Boyfriend?"

Alice reached behind her and moved a Ken doll, wearing an identical spacesuit, next to Barbie. "Who is this, Princess Alice?" she said in a comically deep voice.

"Ken, this is Cuddleston. He was just about to offer to show us around his planet. Cuddleston, this is my boyfriend, Ken."

"Welcome to Endor, Mr. Ken," Andy said.

"Stay away from my girlfriend, you alien scum," Ken said, shaking his fist menacingly.

"Technically, you're the alien, Mr. Ken," Andy replied.

Barbie stepped between them, her back to Andy. "Ken, don't be jealous. Cuddleston and I are just friends."

Andy snickered. This girl Alice either had a vivid imagination, or she had a little experience already with boys. Probably both.

"I mean no harm, Mr. Ken," Andy said. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you and Princess Alice to my village."

"We're not going anywhere with you, Cuddleston!" Ken bellowed.

"Jeez, Ken, you need to mellow out," Barbie said.

"Yeah, it's a wonder you survived the rigors of space travel with that temper," Andy said.

"Do you want to fight, alien scum?" He crouched low and held his hands up.

"Ken, if you get in another fight, I'm breaking up with you!" Barbie said.

Ken growled ferociously and moved towards Andy, punching down towards him. Andy darted under Ken's huge legs, avoiding his blows. "I don't want to fight, but I will if I have to!"

"That's it, Ken, we're through!" Barbie cried.

Ken turned around to face Andy. He kicked his foot out, but Andy knew to dodge it from past experience. He tackled Ken's other leg below the knee.

"Ahhh," Alice said, tipping Ken onto his back. Andy climbed up the toy, straddled his chest, and unleashed a series of haymakers to Ken's huge, smug face.

"No one dishonors the Ewoks!" he declared in a warlike cry, losing himself in the act.

"That's enough, Cuddleston!" Barbie said.

Andy climbed off Ken and bowed towards the alien visitor. "I'm sorry, Princess Alice. I had to beat him up. A threat to one Ewok is a threat to us all."

"Oh, Cuddleston!" Barbie's arms reached stiffly around Andy's shoulders and the doll's painted lips struck his face. "I've been trying to get rid of him for ages. You're my boyfriend now!"

Alice smothered Andy with kisses from her Barbie doll. Andy fell on his back as Barbie's baseball glove-sized face pecked him repeatedly. He could feel Barbie's hard, plastic breasts through her spacesuit, sliding over his belly and around his cock.

"Okay, okay, that's enough!" he shouted, laughing with delirium.

Alice was laughing, too. She stood Barbie up and regarded the little man before her, her favorite new toy. "Let's play another game."

"I need a minute to recover from the last one," Andy said.

"What is that?"

Andy looked up at her. "What's what?"

"Cool! Is that an erection?!"

Andy looked down to see he was sporting a massive woody. "Uh, no."

"Yes it is! That's an erection!" she said excitedly.

Her voice was so loud to him, he was sure the whole house could hear. "Shh! Keep your voice down," he said.

"We learned about erections in sex ed. Can I see it?" She scooted on her butt closer to him. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he was in this enormous girl's possession, alone. 

"No way," Andy said. "And it's not an erection."

Alice pouted. "Please, Andy? I'll show you mine."

He backed away from her. He didn't want to know whether she meant her vagina or something else. He needed to get out of there before something terrible happened. Without another word he turned and sprinted for the door.

"Hey, we're not done playing yet!"

He underestimated the distance. At full size, two steps was all it would have taken to reach the door. At 3 inches tall, it was like a 40-meter dash. Fortunately he got a decent head start on her. He could hear her crawling towards him, could feel the impacts of her hands and knees on the floor. The door was shut, but he was only 3 inches tall now. He dove towards the crack under the door, burning his belly on the carpet as he slid face first into the hallway like a baserunner stealing second.

"Andy—I mean, Mr. Speed!" Kimberly exclaimed.

Andy jumped to his feet. Four long legs belonging to his girlfriend and Debra surrounded him, supporting their massive bodies high above him. He couldn't see his girlfriend's face past her jutting breasts. "Hey," he said, acting casual.

"What were you doing in my sister's room?" Debra asked.

"Uh…"

The door opened and Alice came out. "We were playing Barbie."

Debra slapped her forehead. "You and your Barbies, Alice. When are you going to grow up?"

"I'm only 12!" she cried.

Kimberly knelt down and cupped her hand for Andy to climb on. "You're just in time, Mr. Speed. I was about to come get you."

"Really? Well, good timing, then," Andy said.

She carried him downstairs and hugged Debra before walking out to her car.

"Did you have fun playing Barbie?" she asked with a smirk.

"Don't laugh, Kim. When you're my size, Barbie is seriously underrated."

Andy had a nightmare. In it, the 12 year-old Alice was demanding he look at her vagina. He held out for as long as he could, but she was too big and scary to resist for long. When he looked between her pudgy thighs, the giant head of a dog appeared in place of her pubescent anatomy. The dog lunged and its jaws closed around him and lifted him off the ground.

He bolted upright with a shout. "Thank God," he said, realizing he was safe in his crib in the office. The neck of his shirt was soaked in sweat. It also hung down to his chest. He'd shrunk noticeably in his sleep. Kimberly had taken account of his dramatic overnight changes and was leaving his clothes out for him so he wouldn't have to start every morning naked. He discarded his oversized clothes and put the new clothes on. They weren't the best fit, but they were functional.

He put his voice amplifier in his ear and jumped to the floor. Out in the hallway, he could hear the shower running behind the bathroom door. He wandered into Kimberly's room to find her gone. She must be in the shower, he thought. He sat with his back to the dresser to wait for her. Better someplace out of the way than someplace where he might get stepped on.

The dresser felt rough, even through his shirt. The unfinished wood grain was greatly magnified at his reduced size. He ran a hand over the wood, found he could fit most of his fingers in the narrow, shallow grooves. He reached his arm straight up, found a handhold, and lifted his feet off the floor. His arm started to hurt after a few seconds. He moved his feet into grooves just above the floor. He could support his weight easily.

I can climb this thing, he thought, his loins tightening at the prospect. What better way to show off his climbing prowess to Kimberly? He remembered the look in her beautiful blue eyes when he climbed the kitchen barstool that first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it was less than 4 weeks.

He stepped back, angling his head to see the top of the dresser, 130 feet straight up, a sheer, wood cliff. He spit on his hands and went to work.

He fell once one-fourth of the way up, and that was because he'd climbed the drawer side of the dresser instead of the side. The wood was difficult to grip on the curved, buffed corners of the drawers. But the fall was only 10 inches, not the 30 feet it looked like. He started up again on the dresser's flat side, and summitted 10 minutes later.

"Woo hoo!" he shouted in triumph. He looked around the room from his new perspective. The guest room looked pretty ordinary, except for the white, passenger jet-sized bra coiled up on the plateau of the dresser.

Heady from the exhilarating climb, he walked over to Kimberly's bra. He crawled up the strap to the base of the left cup, which was turned up to form a deep bowl. He clocked the size tag, 38F, before jumping into the bra cup and sliding to the bottom.

He felt really, really small, sitting in the bra cup that Kimberly's breast overflowed. It was about 20 feet deep and 30 feet in diameter at the base. It was the size of a small house, and it was made for just one of her amazing breasts. To any guy, they were big, but to him they were monumental.

He ran halfway up the slope of the bra cup and fell back into the soft cotton padding. He lay in it like it was a giant hammock, luxuriating in his girlfriend's scent.

Thinking of being under Kimberly's breast brought a dreamy smile to his face. The level of arousal he experienced in her bra 2 days ago had reduced him to an infantile state of mind. He felt like one of those lab rats with electrodes attached to their testicles, who when given the choice between pressing a button for food or pressing a button for sexual stimulation, chose sexual stimulation repeatedly, until they starved to death.

He shivered, not wanting to think of the base level subsistence he would be willing to tolerate just to be with her, to have his libido constantly stoked and constantly satisfied, as had been the case for the last week. At his current size, the intensity of his desires were way out of proportion with what a romantic relationship should tolerate. His lust, piqued by his feeble state and Kimberly's willingness to do everything to make him happy, was capable of crowding out all his other, better emotions. He feared that if he let it go unchecked, something would go wrong in the wiring in his brain. He'd never be able to see her as the woman he loved, but always as the vehicle to his next sexual fix.

Intellectually, he wanted this childlike fascination with her body to pass. She had already shown him enough of her beautiful personality to make him fall in love with her, a selfless, tie-knots-in-your-stomach kind of love. He wanted that love to build their future on. He was certain it would survive his regrowth and serve as the foundation of a happy marriage. Yes, marriage. It wasn't just a possibility. It was more likely than not, at this point. He had to regrow first, though.

His mind alighted on something she said the other day, before she dropped him in her bra. Her breasts were capable of many things, but they couldn't speak. Well, maybe they could, he thought. He looked around at the giant bowl of her bra cup. What were the odds she didn't notice his 2-inch body in here before putting her bra on? Pretty good, he figured. His clothes were off-white, blending in well with the white cotton. It wouldn't occur to her he would have scaled the dresser and snuck into her bra. He turned off his voice amplifier, lay down in the base of the bra cup, and waited.

At some point, the shower stopped, and then the hair dryer started. Then it too stopped. The door opened, and Andy felt a large presence in the room. He couldn't see anything over the rim of the huge bra cup.

A feminine arm reached over him and took hold of the bra strap. The bra cup wobbled dizzyingly. He clung to the cotton fabric to stay in the base of the cup. A mountain of pale skin rose above him, topped by two large, perky domes with pink nipples. Her face was hidden, but a fringe of dirty blond hair was visible. Andy held on tight as he was lifted closer to the celestial orb of his teenaged girlfriend.

He realized too late. Pink nipples? Dirty blond hair? "Brooke!" he squeaked.

His daughter didn't hear him, as her engorged left breast was already upon him, and his voice amplifier was turned off. At any rate, her attention was on her reflection in the dresser mirror, seeing if her newly aquired assets matched Kimberly's yet.

Not quite, Brooke thought. Before her breasts could fill out the bra cups, the edges of the cups dug into her chest. The strap was loose, too. A jog or a brisk walk would cause the bra to slip down. But it would do for lounging around the house on her day off.

Despite being smaller than Kimberly, she was pretty big up top. She'd grown three cup sizes in 3 weeks, a delayed blessing of puberty. Her breasts barely wobbled and were very firm and perky. She really didn't even need to wear a bra.

She posed in front of the mirror, squeezing her breasts together in Kimberly's bra and making kissy faces. Much like Kimberly last fall, she had become a knockout almost overnight. She crossed her arms over her narrow waist, framing her chest and admiring her long, dark cleavage.

Andy's back popped as his daughter's huge hand crushed him into her firm breast. When her hand lifted away, he reached for the voice amplifier in his ear. All of a sudden her breast separated from the bra cup, and he fell upside down to a pressure point in her bra cup, somewhere below her pointy, pink nipple. He raised his hands to protect his head. His arms became wedged under her heavy breast, and his body turned to the side, stretching the ligaments in his wrists and arms. An incalculable weight bore down on his hands. They went numb but for the creaking of his fragile bones. His daughter's breast was going to mangle his hands. He screamed.

Brooke felt, more than heard, something in the left bra cup, sliding over her sensitive bosom. She touched her fingertip to the area below her nipple. There was definitely a bump there, something foreign and small. She tilted the bra cup forward off her chest to identify the source of discomfort. Squinting up at her, a tiny man lay weakly on his back in the base of the left cup. "Daddy?"

Light flooded the bra cup as Andy was peeled back from his daughter's body, and her freckled, heart-shaped face appeared on the horizon of her smooth globe like the sun at dawn.

Relieved to be out from under her crushing breast, he touched his ear, activating the voice amplifier. "Brooke, why are you wearing Kimberly's bra?"

"Dad," she scolded, "I've been wearing Kim's bras for over a week." She lifted him from the bra cup and set him on top of the dresser.

He wrung his aching hands to restore feeling and blood flow. "You're a 38F now?"

"No, I'm only a 36E."

He snorted. "Only."

"I've been borrowing Kim's old bras while my boobs have been growing. I'm almost as big as her. Check it out. This 38F bra is only a little loose." She pulled at the loose bra strap. Two inches of slack came off her ribs. She let it go and it snapped loudly against her body. "And I almost fill the cups." She shimmied her shoulders, bouncing her weighty breasts in their slightly larger confines.

Brooke's young breasts were nothing if not spectacular, that's for sure. They stood proudly out from her thin body, full and firm. They were almost too big on her waspish 5 foot, 5 inch frame, and pale against her already fair skin.

"You should be careful with those things, Brooke," Andy said evenly. "Remember, with great power comes great resonsibility."

"I know, I know. I don't try to flaunt them around or anything. They're just so huge now and they're hard to hide. I've been noticing that guy Eric look at me more since I've gotten bigger. I'm pretty sure I gave him an erection, kinda like how I gave you an erection at the hotel in Virginia. Except I didn't even touch him!"

She glanced up at the dresser mirror, caught her reflection next to her father. Wow, I make him look so tiny, she thought.

"Well, it's hard for boys to control what happens down there. That's something you'll have to get used to, sweetie," Andy was saying. This was a conversation she really should be having with her mother, or a mother-type figure. "Now, if a boy treats you with disrespect, that's a different story."

She ignored him, continuing to prattle about her breasts as if it was the most normal topic of conversation. "Daddy, why do boys like boobs so much? I mean, every girl has them, so you'd think boys would be used to it. I started noticing it with Kim during senior year, when she started to really develop. Every boy in school liked her, even the male teachers. And I know it was because she has big boobs, because I overheard guys talking about her. So is it only when they're big that boys get all weirded out about them?" She clocked herself in the mirror as she drew in a deep breath, inflating her chest to fill the bra to capacity. "Big like mine?"

Andy watched his daughter's breasts burgeoning towards him, weapons of mass distraction in the hands of an 18 year-old girl. Was she teasing him, or was she really that naive? He was upset—furious, even, that she would act so boldly around him. But the important thing was that she know he would never look at her in a sexual way, so he kept pretending that she wasn't affecting him.

But it was beyond him to not fantasize about her disembodied breasts, the same shape as Alecia's, with the same pink nipples, but younger, firmer, and bigger. Way bigger.

"They must look really GIGANTIC to you, Daddy. You were just a little bump on my breast a few minutes ago. I thought you might be a bug or a balled up piece of thread, but nope, it was you. That's how big I am to you now. I know it must be difficult, being around me and Kim all the time, getting erections because our big boobs look even bigger to you. I think Eric went to the bathroom to… you know, relieve the pressure. Is that what you do, Daddy? Do you masturbate to relieve the pressure of the erections me and Kim give you?"

"Uh…" Andy knew he should stop her, but she spoke so quickly, and she kept rocking back and forth on her heels, repeatedly stunting his thought process by drawing his attention to her bouncing breasts.

Poor guy, Brooke thought, studying her father's distressed expression. These boobs must be torturing him. I wonder how long he's been angling for a better look at me. He took Mom's death hard. He's been so lonely. Maybe this will make him feel better.

She hunched forward and landed her exceptional rack on the dresser next to Andy's tiny body. He backed away uneasily as his daughter's E cups thumped solidly on the dresser.

"You must masturbate a lot, Daddy, because I hardly ever see you with an erection around me or Kim. Well, it's either masturbate, or have sex. And I know no one's having sex with you at your size!"

God, where is this going? he thought. Please let it end soon.

She inched forward until her ribs touched the dresser. This caused the oversized white bra to slip a little, exposing the tops of her pale mounds. A jagged, blue vein ran diagonally across her left breast. Her dirty blond hair flowed like a golden waterfall over her swells.

"I understand that if boys masturbate a lot, they get cramps in their hands. Does your hand cramp from masturbating so much, Daddy? I would lend you a hand, but your penis is so small, I'm afraid I'd accidentally squish it between my fingers."

She pressed her thumb and pointer finger together under his face to demonstrate, inviting him to look past her fingers at her gaping cleavage. The white bra cups were hanging on to her nipples for dear life.

"Right. Good thinking, Brooke."

She brightened as something new occurred to her. "Guess what, Daddy? I was doing the math during my break. If you've been shrinking an inch per day, that means you've lost 99 percent of your mass in the last week. So my boobs are a hundred times more massive to you than they were a week ago. Compared to you, just one of my boobs weighs about 45 tons."

"Forty-five tons?" Andy echoed. Impossible. But then, she almost filled those bra cups, didn't she? The same bra cups that were like two small houses to him. No wonder Kimberly was wary about letting him play in her breasts. If Brooke's one breast weighed 45 tons, how much did hers weigh? Fifty tons? Sixty? And growing exponentially by the minute, as he gradually shrunk.

Brooke rolled her shoulders back and tilted her torso forward, watching in the mirror her breasts lift off her chest as far as possible, her cleavage open wide enough to swallow her father whole. It was the same technique she'd seen Kimberly use in the dressing room at the mall, and one she'd practiced by herself in her room every day since. She'd never imagined the first boy she tried it on would be her father.

"Yep. And if you shrink another inch, one of my boobs will weigh 360 tons. Pretty scary, huh?"

Andy gazed at Brooke's two smooth, ivory spheres, feeling their gravitational pull like he was an astronaut orbiting a binary planet system in space. He could feel his resolve beginning to unravel. He didn't care who these perfect tits belonged to; he wanted to ravish them.

"Terrifying," he said.

She heard the reverence in his voice. That should be enough material for him to jerk off to for a few days, she thought. A pair of nice jugs could do a lot for a man. Good thing he has me around to blow off some steam every once in awhile. Kimberly's way too shy to try anything like this.

She pulled her blouse over her chest and fastened the buttons. Andy breathed a sigh of relief as the tantalizing flesh disappeared under her shirt. He felt like he'd dodged a bullet. Only now did he realize his brow was soaked with sweat. How had he raised such a weirdo?

He needed to have a stern talk with Brooke when he was big again and his words carried some weight. This kind of behavior wasn't going to pass muster in college, where there would be thousands of horny young men looking to take advantage of his little girl.

"What were you doing in Kim's bra, anyway?" Brooke asked.

"I was… playing a practical joke on Kimberly."

"By hiding yourself in her bra?"

"It surprised you, didn't it?"

Brooke stuck her tongue between her teeth. He recognized that pixyish look from when she dragged him to the mall. "I know how we can get her really good," she said.

"How?"

"We make her think she ate you."

Andy's stomach twisted into a knot. "I don't think so, Brooke."

"Why not?!" she squealed.

"Because I suspect there's a chance any prank that involves someone thinking they ate me could result in someone really eating me."

"No one's gonna eat you, Dad," she said, rolling her green eyes at him.

"My answer is no."

Her nostrils flared in anger. "Tell you what, Daddy. Help me play this prank on Kim, and I'll let you jerk off on my boobs."

"I don't want to jerk off on your boobs, Brooke."

"Where, then? On my legs? In my mouth? In my hair?" She examined her split ends distractedly. "Eric really likes my hair, too."

Andy exploded, "Not anywhere, Brooke! I'm your father. What you're talking about is completely inappropriate."

She growled in frustration. "Why are you being so immature about this, Dad? I told you before, it's just body parts. It doesn't mean anything."

Something about her logic was sound, but at some basic, emotional level she MUST understand, if not respect, his paternal demand for boundaries. If she didn't, she had a sociopathic lack of empathy.

She started to unbutton her blouse. "We're going to settle this right now."

"Brooke—"

"Quiet. You asked for this, Daddy, by refusing to listen to reason. All I want is to relieve the pressure that I know is building up inside you, making you sick. You keep pushing me away, but what you need is to accept what I can do for you."

Her blouse was off and she reached her arms around her back to undo the bra clasp. The bra groaned from her shifting weight.

"Brooke, stop!" he shouted shrilly. "I'll do it!"

She paused, the disconnected ends of the bra strap in her hands. "You'll do what?"

"I'll go along with your prank. Just, please, keep your clothes on."

Hmm, maybe he's not like all the other boys after all, she thought.

She clapped her hands happily. "Oh, Daddy, this'll be so much fun. You won't regret it."

Andy covered his eyes as the white bra dropped off her chest, and her naked, 45-ton breasts bulged and quivered between her arms.

"Your clothes, Brooke!"

"Sorry, Daddy." She bent down to pick up the bra. After she put herself together, Andy uncovered his eyes.

"So what's your plan for making Kim think she ate me?"

Brooke's plan was simple and elegant. She would prepare lunch and serve Kimberly's food and Andy's food on the same plate. Brooke would talk while they ate and distract Kimberly. When Kimberly wasn't looking, he would jump off the table and hide. Then Brooke would ask where her dad was. Kimberly would come to the horrifying conclusion that she had eaten Andy on her own.

It was a good plan, but Andy had a better one. Except the mark for his prank wasn't Kimberly. It was Brooke.

His daughter carried him downstairs and out into the backyard. He had to crouch low to keep from being blown off her palm. Brooke's normal walking pace was close to 100 miles per hour to him. She wasn't as haphazard as Alice at carrying him, but she wasn't as smooth or as practiced as Kimberly.

She slowed down to remark, "You're so light, Daddy. I barely feel you."

"That's because I weigh 1/16th of an ounce, Brooke," he replied to her looming, freckled face. "The shrinking specialist said you could stick me in an envelope and send me anywhere in the country for the price of a postage stamp."

"Wow."

Outside, Kimberly was cleaning the swimming pool, one of Andy's responsibilities that had to be split between the two teenagers.

"Hey, Kim!"

Kimberly looked up. "Hey, Brooke. Do you have Mr. Speed with you?" she asked, squinting. She couldn't actually see him from across the yard, only Brooke's hand hovering at waist height and parallel with the ground.

"Yeah. We're really hungry. Do you want lunch?"

"It's kinda early for lunch. What are you making?"

"Chicken fajita tacos." She winked at Andy.

"I'll have some," Kimberly said. She resumed her chores, and Brooke took Andy into the kitchen. She set him next to the dish strainer and started gathering what she needed to make chicken fajitas.

Andy was sure he'd never seen Brooke make anything more complicated than popcorn. "Do you know what you're doing, Brooke?"

"Yeah. I've watched Mom cook chicken hundreds of times."

Andy's heart plunged to his stomach. Alecia. She would have known the correct response to this overt sexual phase Brooke seemed to be going through. Kimberly had proven herself invaluable to him by providing insight into what Brooke was going through, but would that translate into being a mother-type figure herself? It was the one doubt left in his mind about this relationship. He hoped he wasn't hurting Brooke by getting serious with her best friend. Because, in the end, his only child's happiness was more important than his own.

He saw Kimberly walking through the sliding glass door. "Brooke, I need to use the restroom," he announced.

"Ew. Get Kim to help you."

"Help do what?" Kimberly said, joining them in the kitchen. Andy marveled at her bigness, her quickness. Standing about 200 feet tall (proportionally speaking), both girls were overwhelming.

"My dad needs to go poopy in the potty," Brooke cooed, like she would to a baby.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. "That's not nice, Brooke." She lowered her palm to Andy. "Come on, Mr. Speed."

She carried him to the bathroom and shut the door. She brought her enormous face close and stole his breath with a full-body kiss from her plush, pink lips.

"There's a proper morning greeting for my little man," she whispered.

"Thanks, Kim. I have to tell you something quick, so listen carefully." He told her Brooke's plan to trick her, and how he needed her help to turn the tables on Brooke.

"This is why I love you," Kimberly said when he was finished explaining.

"So you'll do it?"

"Of course. Just wait for my signal, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Kim, don't eat me for real, okay?"

"I'll try not to."

She flushed the toilet to cover for the fact that he hadn't really used the restroom, and brought him back to the kitchen. Smoke was rising from a frying pan on the stove.

"Burn the house down yet?" Andy said.

"I got it under control," Brooke replied, turning down the burner.

He looked at the seared surface of a solid block of chicken in the frying pan. "Did you defrost it?"

She flushed red with embarrassment. "How do I do that?"

"Use the microwave," Kimberly said. She programmed the microwave to defrost and stuck the chicken on a plate inside it.

Brooke shooed them out of the kitchen. This was her meal, and no one was going to show her how to do it right.

They sat to eat at the dining table 20 minutes later. Brooke had overestimated the amount of chicken to cook. She placed a community plate of chicken in the middle of the table, while leaving over a pound of chicken in the frying pan in the kitchen. All in all, though, she did a pretty good job. They had shredded cheese, fresh guacamole, and diced tomatoes to go with their chicken fajitas.

"I served a little piece of chicken on Kim's plate for you, Daddy, so we'll have one less plate to wash," Brooke said. As far as she knew, all was going according to her plan.

Kimberly set him on the table. A hunk of chicken that was once as big as him lay in a hundred, fist-sized pieces on the edge of her plate. "Thanks, Brooke. It smells good."

The girls served themselves. Andy watched Kimberly reach an arm over him to spear a few pieces of chicken from the community plate and drop it into her tortilla. The tines of the fork she used were as long as his body and glinted menacingly. He winced at the ease with which the tines penetrated the tough chicken. When she finished preparing her taco, she raised it to her huge mouth for a bite. He heard the chicken crunch and grind between her teeth as she chewed methodically. She tilted her head back, and the muscles in her graceful throat flexed as she swallowed.

"What's the matter, Daddy? Haven't you seen  a giant eat before?" Brooke teased.

Kimberly put her taco back on the plate. The bite she had taken out of her taco was bigger than him. He could see the outline of her teeth in the bite left in the taco, each tooth mark wider than a clipboard.

He looked at his daughter. "Can I have some cheese, please?"

"Sure!" She took a pinch of shredded cheese and dropped it on the edge of Kimberly's plate, next to Andy's hunk of chicken. A few strings of cheese landed on his head. "Oops!"

Kimberly snickered. "Be careful, Brooke. If Mr. Speed gets mixed up with the food, he's liable to get eaten."

"And we don't want that, do we, Daddy?"

He pulled a string of cheese off his head, balled it up, and popped it in his mouth. He winked at his daughter. "Definitely not!"

Kimberly's mouth opened to release a throaty belch that made Andy's ears ring. "Excuse me." He looked at her uneasily, and seated himself with his legs over the edge of the plate and proceeded to eat his chicken bit by bit with his hands.


As they ate, Brooke prattled about everything under the sun, but Kimberly kept a close eye on Andy, so he had an excuse for not making his escape. Kimberly finished her taco and was picking at a pile of shredded cheese on her plate. Brooke sensed she was running out of time to buy her father a chance to break free before lunch ended.

"Kim, did you bring in the paper this morning?"

"Yeah. It's on the counter. Since when do you read the newspaper?"

"I want to look at the car ads." Brooke grabbed the paper off the counter and spread it out in front of her. "Hey, look at this!"

Kimberly didn't budge from her seat. "What is it?"

"It's a great deal on a 2013 Altima. It's perfect! Look." She jabbed her finger down on the ad, willing Kimberly to focus her attention on her side of the table.

Kimberly glanced casually at the ad. "Forget the Altima. What about that cute, yellow Jeep?"

Brooke looked down, priorities suddenly changed. "Where?"

Kimberly looked down at Andy, her blue eyes screaming, Run! "There in the upper right corner," she said.

With Brooke distracted, Andy sprinted for the edge of the table and jumped. He bounced off Kimberly's thigh and settled in the gully between her crossed legs, next to her crotch. Her bungalow-sized breasts, secured in her green blouse, formed a verdant ceiling above him. He silenced his voice amplifier for stealth.

Brooke saw the used Jeep Kimberly was talking about. She clucked her tongue in disappointment. "It's a stick shift. I can't drive stick."

"Your dad never taught you?"

Brooke glanced at Kimberly's plate. Her father was nowhere in the vicinity. "I don't think he knows how to drive stick himself," she said.

I can drive stick, Andy thought. It's just been about 15 years since—Whoa!

Without looking down, Kimberly snatched him from her lap and lifted him to her cheek. She casually leaned her head into her hand as she listened to Brooke and continued snacking on cheese, hiding the fact that Andy was nestled in her palm. Andy slid to the heel of her hand and looked up at the pale cheek of his teenage girlfriend, covered in short, downy hair. Her sweat from working outside in the still, morning heat was sour in his nostrils. He marveled at how big and alien her body felt to him at this scale.

When Brooke wasn't looking, Kimberly angled her wrist away from her face, letting Andy fall out of her hand onto her rough, green blouse, directly above her breast pocket. The pocket was 3 inches square, more than enough room to accommodate him. Like hiding from your mom between the racks at the department store when you were a kid. But the subtle shifts of Kimberly's hefty bosom stretched her blouse and caused the pocket opening to snap down over his waist.

Andy's upper body was exposed on the slope of Kimberly's green blouse, and he couldn't move. She glanced down. What is he doing playing on my boob? Does he want Brooke to see him? she thought. She lifted her shoulders imperceptibly, which buoyed her perky breasts and bunched her blouse above her bust. The pocket bowed open with newfound slack, and Andy fell out of sight.

A minute passed before Brooke said, "Hey, where'd he go?"

Kimberly looked expectantly at the spot Andy was standing at a minute ago.

"Dad?" Brooke called out. She started lifting things off the table, looking for him.

Kimberly ran her fingers under the rim of the plate in front of her. She opened her taco, the size of a school bus to Andy, finding only chicken, tomatoes, and guacamole. He could easily fit inside the taco and accidentally become part of her meal. "Uh-oh. You don't think I…"

"What?" Brooke said.

Kimberly emitted an anguished half-groan, half-howl. She stood up, knocking her chair back. "Oh, God! Brooke, your dad! I—I think I ate him. What do I do?!"

"I dunno!"

Kimberly ran her hands over her flat belly, as if she believed Andy was inside her, his tiny body digesting with the rest of her food. She squeezed below her waist, as if she could force him back up that way.

"Make yourself throw up!" Brooke suggested.

Kimberly picked up her glass and gulped down the rest of her water, spilling some on her cheeks and blouse in her haste. Then she ran to the sink, bouncing Andy like a rag doll in her breast pocket. She forced her fingers down her throat, causing herself to gag. At least, that's how it looked and sounded to Brooke.

Kimberly refilled her glass from the tap and gulped down more water. She started heaving into the sink.

Brooke had seen enough. She didn't want to see Kimberly actually throw up. She dug her knuckle into Kimberly's side. "Gotchya!"

Kimberly looked at her, eyes red and teary. "What?"

Brooke smiled smugly. "It was a joke, Kim. You didn't eat my dad. Come on out, Dad."

"How could you joke about something like that?" Kimberly said, sounding wounded. She's a good actress, Andy thought. He wiped his face on his sleeve. It was stifling hot. Heat was radiating from Kimberly's breast, and little fresh air made its way down into the pocket.

"Dad?" Brooke got on her hands and knees to look under the kitchen table. "Dad, prank's over. You can come out now."

Kimberly crossed her arms over her chest. "Where is he, Brooke?"

"He should be right here, where I told him to be." She looked around the counter, which separated the kitchen and dining area from the living room. "Dad!"

Kimberly followed her friend around the kitchen, still in character. "Did you see him go under the table?"

"I—I thought I did." She envisioned her dad running to the edge of the table while Kimberly wasn't looking. But that wasn't what happened, was it? It's what she had assumed happened. She never actually saw her dad move away from Kimberly's plate. One second he was there, and in the next second he was gone.

She checked the bottoms of her sandals for bloodstains. "Check your shoes."

Kimberly sighed, lifted her tennis shoes up for inspection. "This better not be part of your lame joke, Brooke."

Brooke wheeled on her friend. "It's not a joke anymore! I can't find my dad!"

"Maybe his voice amplifier died."

As if on cue, Kimberly's tummy gurgled audibly. A smile threatened to break through her placid face.

Still on her knees, Brooke's head swiveled around. Her horror-stricken eyes stopped mere inches from Kimberly's belly. Her vivid imagination pictured her tiny father inside Kimberly, passed out from lack of oxygen, digestive fluids slowly breaking down his flesh into nutrients to be absorbed into her best friend's body. He had told her he was afraid of getting eaten for real. And she hadn't listened.

She jumped to her feet. "Kim, he's inside you! I can hear him!" she cried.

"It's not funny anymore, Brooke—"

Brooke grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "I'm not fucking joking! You really ate him!"

She pulled her friend to the sink. "We need to make you throw up, NOW!" She shoved the glass of water in Kimberly's face. Then she stood behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, joining her hands over Kimberly's belly button.

"You drink, and I'll give you the Heimlich."

"The Heimlich is for a blocked windpipe, Brooke."

"We have to get him out of there. Now shut up and drink!"

"Okay, okay." Kimberly lifted the glass to her lips and pretended to drink. Brooke jammed her hands hard into her belly. "Ow."

"Keep drinking!" Brooke screamed.

"Okay." Brooke lifted her a few inches off the floor this time.

Kimberly landed unsteadily on her feet. "This isn't working, Brooke. I can't throw up on demand."

Brooke let her go and started pacing around the kitchen. "What are we gonna do?" she whimpered. She stopped in front of the pantry. She reached into the medicine shelf and pulled out a white bottle.

"Take these!" she said, forcing the bottle into Kimberly's hands.

Kimberly looked at the label. "Laxatives?" In her breast pocket, Andy howled with laughter.

"If you can't throw up, he has to come out the other end," Brooke explained.

"He can't go through my intestines, Brooke. My abdominal muscles will crush him to death."

Brooke flailed her arms in frustration. "We have to try something! I can't lose him. I can't let him… let him…" It was too ghastly to say aloud.

"Digest?" Kimberly said.

"Shut up!" She grabbed the laxatives and threw them across the room. "Forget that. We need to find something to make you throw up."

She turned to the pantry again, knocking things off the shelves, looking for something, anything, that could help them. Kimberly felt sorry for her. Typically it was at the point that you stop having fun that you abort a prank. This prank had gone on long enough.

"Brooke—"

Brooke seized a plastic, half-gallon jug of vegetable oil. "Chug this."

Kimberly shook her head. "I'm not going to drink that."

Brooke grabbed hold of her blouse so she couldn't get away. "If you don't throw him up, Kim, I'm going to cut him out of you." Her thumb flipped the cap off the jug and held it up to Kimberly's lips. "Drink."

"Brooke, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. What's wrong with you? My dad's dying inside your stomach!"

"Your dad's fine. He's been here the whole time."

"Where…" Brooke's jaw dropped as Kimberly reached two fingers into her breast pocket and pulled out her dad, twisting from her fingernails by the scruff of his ill-fitting shirt.

"Gotchya!" they said together.

Brooke was dumbfounded. Her eyes darted between her 2-inch tall father and her sexy best friend, her mind working through what just transpired. The two dearest people in the world to her had taken her juvenile prank and used it against her. Her face turned purple with rage. It wasn't being the subject of a prank that angered her, but rather the trust between Andy and Kimberly that such scheming required. Somehow, she was jealous of both of them for the bond they'd evidently formed without her as an intermediate.

She shoved Kimberly hard in the chest. "You bitch! He was in your pocket the whole time?! I really thought you ate him!"

Kimberly held Andy over her open mouth, her pink tongue wriggling below his swinging legs. "Ahhh."

Brooke covered her humiliated face. "Stop it!" She spotted the full glass of water next to the sink. She grabbed it and splashed the water over Kimberly's face and chest.

Kimberly gasped as cold water soaked through her green blouse and ran in rivulets over her round breasts, showing the outline of her 36G bra. Her hand closed loosely around Andy's body as she lifted her arms away from the wet spot on her chest.

The exhilaration of the prank's success was joined by surprise at Brooke's retaliation. Kimberly grabbed the nearest thing within reach, the frying pan full of cooked chicken, and swung it like a tennis racket at Brooke.

Brooke backed away out of the frying pan's range, but chunks of chicken and brown, slimy grease soared through the air and spattered her face, neck, chest, and legs. "Ugh!" she groaned, looking down at her ruined outfit.

Kimberly tossed the empty frying pan on the counter and giggled.

A wicked smile crossed Brooke's lips as her hand tightened over the jug handle. She lifted the vegetable oil jug over her head and tilted it towards Kimberly. Kimberly lunged for it with both hands, forgetting she was holding Andy. She halted the jug's descent, but the viscous, yellow liquid poured out of the upturned container, drenching both girls.

Wanting no part in the titanic teens' playfight, Andy shrewdly rolled out of Kimberly's open hand the instant before it made contact with the heavy jug. He fell off her forearm and landed somewhere on Brooke's head, where he was not spared the deluge of vegetable oil. He tumbled through layers of Brooke's blow-dried blond hair, barely able to breathe through the thick globs of oil that covered his mouth and nose.

The jug clattered to the kitchen floor, and the girls grappled with each other, grunting and squealing. Neither of them was able to grip the other, on account of their slipperiness. Kimberly, who was 3 inches taller and about 20 pounds heavier than Brooke, lowered her shoulder into Brooke's chest and forced her smaller friend onto her back. She landed on top of her in a tangle of hair and limbs.

Andy held onto Brooke's scalp as she went horizontal. When the world came to rest, he climbed up a strand of her hair, hand over hand, like a rope. The steep angle of her head moderated and he crawled the rest of the way up. Soon he found himself on the crown of his daughter's head.

Kimberly raised up off Brooke's firm chest, pulled back her thick, sopping hair, and laughed.

"That was SO wrong," Brooke said.

"It was your dad's idea," Kimberly replied. Aching from the fall, and wondering where Andy had gotten off to, she didn't notice what was happening to her friend.

Brooke was breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from arousal. Her chest heaved, she bit her lips, she grinded her crotch on Kimberly's toned thigh. She could feel every curve of her childhood friend's wet, nubile body pressing into her. Her tender flesh couldn't help but respond. The stress of losing her mother and believing she had lost her father, too, caused years' worth of suppressed desires that had been bubbling under the surface to leap out of her like a humpback whale breaching the ocean surface. Impulsively, she slipped her arms around Kimberly's slim waist and pulled her in closer.

Kimberly felt the pressure on her lower back, saw Brooke's pale, freckled face approaching, mouth angling up to meet hers. Their lips touched. She gasped and raised herself onto her arms, breaking Brooke's hold on her. "What are you doing?"

"Kissing you." She moved swiftly, turning Kimberly's shoulders with her arms and pushing off the floor with her legs to roll Kimberly onto her back. Now Brooke was on top, straddling Kimberly's waist.

Andy held onto Brooke's hair as his world turned 180 degrees. He tumbled over the side of Brooke's smooth neck and down her shoulder. The strand of hair he was holding onto uncoiled and slipped through his hands when it pulled taut. He dangled inches above the summits of Kimberly's green blouse, which clung tightly to her large, oily breasts and canyon-like cleavage.

Having stolen the initiative, Brooke moved her hands over Kimberly's luscious body, and lowered her face for another kiss. There was nowhere to escape to for Kimberly this time. Brooke's mouth smacked and sucked her pursed, pink lips. The sensation was not unpleasant.

The space between the two girl's bodies was suddenly very narrow. Andy dropped from his daughter's hair onto Kimberly's soft mountains. He looked up to see Brooke's own well-endowed chest suspended over him, undulating with the effort being put into what sounded like a fiery, lesbianic kiss going on up by their faces. This, in addition to all the odd slurping noises that the girls' slick, supple bodies made as pockets of air were trapped and released by the intimate crush of their flesh, made for a unique sonic experience.

The girls seemed to have completely forgotten about him. Two hundred tons of breasts surrounded him on all sides, poised to squish him if he lingered too long. The only outlet was through Kimberly's slippery cleavage, which rumbled open and shut like the jaws of a trash compactor in response to Brooke's caresses.

He made a run for it, taking quick, short steps to keep his footing in the ankle-deep vegetable oil. He ducked as Kimberly's heavy swells slammed together at shoulder height with a sickening splat, with enough force to pop his head like a grape. He crawled on his belly the rest of the way out of her cleavage, stood up, and ran around her right breast to her collar bone. He jumped to the cold tile floor and ran a safe distance away, slipping and sliding in oil.

Brooke was moaning softly in delight. She propped herself up on the floor and lifted her head so she could see Kimberly's eyes. "How was that?"

Kimberly frowned and licked her lips. "You taste like chicken."

Brooke laughed and puckered her lips for another kiss.

"Wait, wait. We shouldn't do this."

"Why not? It's just kissing."

Kimberly couldn't think of a good reason why not. She glimpsed Andy gawking at them from 2 feet away.

"What about your dad?"

Brooke followed Kimberly's eyes to the diminutive form of her father. "Let him watch. He's been through a lot lately. He deserves to see this."

Kimberly brought her hands up to Brooke's thin shoulders, holding her at bay. "I really can't, Brooke."

"Why not?"

She looked at Andy again uncertainly. "I… have a boyfriend."

No, don't tell her, not like this! Andy thought. He waved his arms frantically, trying to head her offcourse.

The tiny man's actions were invisible to his monstrous daughter. She snickered, "Yeah right."

"I'm not kidding. I really do have a boyfriend."

Brooke sat up, eyeing her friend skeptically. "Who? What's his name?"

"Andy."

"'Andy'? You mean my dad?" she scoffed.

Kimberly's hand reached towards him. Andy hung his head, conceding his fate to the circumstances. There was no turning back now. The time for hiding their relationship from Brooke was over. If she was going to know about them, she needed to know how serious they were.

"It's true, Brooke. We're in love," he said wearily.

Brooke's face scrunched up in thought. "Dad, you and Kim?" she asked.

"Yes."

She looked at Kimberly. "You and my dad?" Kimberly nodded.

Andy studied his daughter's inscrutable expression. "We're not teasing you, Brooke. This is real. After your mother, Kim is the kindest, most thoughtful woman I've ever met. She helped me find that spark inside that passed away with Alecia. I love her with all my heart. The thought of not having her in our lives tears me apart. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want her to be a member of our family, permanently. What do you think about that?"

Kimberly felt faint. It was the first declaration of his love all over again. She ran the tip of her thumb over his neck and chest. He bent down and kissed her thumb affectionately.

"Kim, do you feel that way, too?" Brooke asked.

She looked at Andy, continuing to rub her thumb in slow, counterclockwise circles on his chest. "I do. The past month has been the saddest time of my life, and the happiest time of my life. Every time, your dad was there to give me the support I needed. I don't know how or why I chose him. But once I did it came so naturally to love him, and to be loved back."

Andy sobbed. He had no idea Kimberly was capable of such spontaneous poetry.

Their eyes turned expectantly to Brooke, who still sat atop Kimberly, dripping with vegetable oil, wet clothes hugging her young curves. She held a finger to her pouty lips, trying to figure out how she felt about all this.

After what felt like an eternity, she beamed brightly. "This… is going… to be… AWESOME!"

When Andy went to bed, the grilling started. "How long have you been a couple?" Brooke asked.

"Since Sunday," Kimberly answered.

"Have you told him 'I love you'?"

"Yes."

"Has he said 'I love you'?"

"Yes."

"Aww! Have you had sex with him yet?"

"Of course not."

"'Of course not' because he's shrunk, or 'of course not' because you want to wait until you're married?"

"We both want to wait," Kimberly said, wishing to present a unified front.

"So what stuff have you done with him?"

"Brooke! That's between me and your dad."

"Okay, you don't have to tell me. You are doing stuff, though, aren't you? How could you not be? He's so little!"

The 18 year-old in Kimberly wanted to tell Brooke everything they'd been doing, because she'd been holding it in forever, it felt like. The prospective stepmom in her, however, wanted Brooke to treat sensitive subjects like sex with more maturity and sensitivity. Her new relationship with Brooke would be the most difficult adjustment, if she and Andy were going to make this work.

"That's really none of your business, Brooke."

"Uh-huh, just as I thought. Oh, how I would love to have a little man all to myself, to do whatever I wanted with." There was a longing in her voice.

"They're not slaves, they're human beings."

"I agree they're not slaves. More like pets."

"Brooke!"

"Come on, Kim. You're going to sit there and tell me you don't get a thrill from having a man who is totally subservient to you?"

As usual, Brooke had taken something true and found the worst way of expressing it.

"If I had a little man of my own, I'd make him go along with whatever I want," she continued. "He would accept that I am the master and wouldn't think of opposing my will. Like a pet dog."

"What would you do?" Kimberly asked, curious. She knew Andy was approaching his minimum size, and she wanted to do something special for him. Maybe Brooke's twisted mind could provide some inspiration.

Brooke shut her eyes, imagining it. "I would dominate him. I would keep him on the edge of fear and arousal constantly. I would become his whole world, his whole reason for living."

Kimberly whistled. She hoped, for shrinking men's sakes, Brooke's dream didn't become reality.

"When are you going to tell your parents?"

"I dunno. Andy—I mean, your dad and I aren't ready to go public yet."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"It's too soon. Between the shrinking disease and losing Mrs. Speed…" She decided prudently not to delve into that subject. "It's a hectic time. When things calm down, we'll tell them."

Brooke nodded, respecting her friend's adult decision.

"No one can know about me and your dad, Brooke. You're the first person we've told." Aside from Paul, kinda sorta.

"My lips are sealed." Brooke made a motion of locking her mouth and throwing away the key. "As long as you tell me about the stuff you've been doing with him."

"No! He's your dad. I can't tell you that."

Brooke smiled. Kimberly didn't have to tell her. She knew her best friend's best attributes, and the best way to use them. She furtively recalled how small Andy looked in Kimberly's big bra. He was so small, Kim's jugs must be… She got lost in the calculations.

Her hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Have you been letting him ride in your bra?"

Kimberly blushed. "How did you know about that?"

Brooke punched the air exuberantly. Her father's actions made perfect sense now, in light of his relationship with Kimberly. "That's why!"

"'That's why' what?"

"I've been borrowing your old bras for the last week," Brooke explained. "I hope you don't mind. My boobs just won't stop growing and there's no point in buying new bras if I outgrow them after a few days. Anyway, this morning I found my dad in my—well, your—bra. He was waiting for you to put it on, hoping to surprise you." She snickered. "He got me instead."

Kimberly frowned. Good going, Andy, she thought. Your fascination with my boobs almost betrayed our relationship to your daughter.

"I'm sorry he saw you like that, Brooke," she said.

"I don't mind. If I had known he was getting his rocks off with you, I wouldn't have messed with him."

Kimberly looked at her. "Wait a minute. YOU messed with him? How?"

"I just talked to him some and gave him a peek at my boobs in your bra. For what it's worth, he stayed true to you. He didn't take the bait like I thought he would."

"Yeah, because you're his daughter! What were you thinking?" The idea of tempting her father in a sexual way disturbed her to her core. Over the years Kimberly's mother had repeatedly stressed she wear modest clothing and not "compromise" herself around Roy or Brandon, because a woman's wiles exerted a power on boy's imaginations that she couldn't fathom. It wasn't until she got her job at Twin Peaks that she realized her mother was right. And it wasn't until she inadvertently turned Andy into a drooling idiot with her forwardness that she realized how right her mother was.

"Boobs are boobs, Kim," Brooke countered. "They're objects, and they're meant to be objectified. The fact that I'm his daughter doesn't change that. From my dad's point of view, we're as human as a photoshopped model on one of those building-sized poster ads downtown. I teased him a little, and he enjoyed it. So what?"

Kimberly was certain her friend was wrong. In her Sunday Bible class they would have called Brooke's ideas Gnosticism, and categorically rejected them. But attacking Brooke's thinking on these grounds was risky, since she was unchurched. Kimberly was alarmed to hear she had taken her ideas so far as to attempt to seduce her own father.

"Brooke, in all seriousness, it doesn't work that way. As his daughter, you're both your personality AND your flesh and blood. There's no definite separation between someone's body and who we are as a person. They kind of run together. That's why Paul says in First Corinthians our bodies are temples for the Spirit. Your body isn't purely an object, it's an extension of your will, your soul."

Brooke looked at her, defiance in her eyes. "That's not what my mom said."

"What did she say?"

"She said that the smaller Daddy got, the easier he'd get distracted. That when he reacts to our bodies, it isn't wrong. It's just our bodies, it doesn't mean anything."

Kimberly sensed her future in the family was on the line. She wasn't talking to Brooke as a friend anymore, but as her father's girlfriend, as a woman who hoped to co-lead his family.

She composed herself and said, "She was right. Your dad has been challenged by that. But that doesn't give us license to participate in his distraction. If you don't want your dad to treat you like an object, you need to ACT less like an object. Know what I mean?" She held her breath and waited.

Brooke shook her dirty blonde hair after weighing her words. "I guess you're both right," she said finally.

Relief washed over Kimberly at this small victory. Maybe she'd make a decent stepmom after all. Since they became close she'd been trying to get Brooke—and by extension her parents—to come regularly to her church, so she could share with them her faith in the mercy of God. This was a positive step in that direction as well.

Brooke yawned. "I think I should go to bed. I have to open at the mall tomorrow."

"Okay. Good night." Kimberly gave her a friendly hug and went to the office. She found a slip of paper and a pen. She wrote on the paper, "In case you want to read more =)" She tucked the slip of paper in her Bible at First Corinthians and put it on her nightstand.

Andy slept through the night and most of the morning, too. Kimberly was on pins and needles. His shrinking could stop at any time, and she didn't want to miss it. Before she went to bed, she set a tape measure by his increasingly pathetic body. He was a hair over 1.6 inches tall. Twice during the night she woke up to measure him. 1.5 inches. 1.37 inches. He kept shrinking.

When Brooke left for work in the morning, Kimberly wheeled the crib into her room, as had been the custom since her first stint as his caretaker. The crib was overkill at this point. It was as big as an airplane hangar to Andy, and the widely spaced bars couldn't stop him from falling out. But it was HIS bed. Kimberly knew she would find him there every morning. As an added bonus, seeing him in the crib also stirred her nascent maternal feelings.

He was 1.25 inches tall on the dot. She ate breakfast and mowed the front lawn, which didn't really need it, but it kept her occupied. She measured him again. A hair over 1.2 inches tall. When would it stop? The shrinking specialist had said there was a 95 percent chance he could shrink to as little as 3/4 inches tall. She showered and, with nothing better to do, she prayed to God that He would stop Andy's shrinking and grant her peace of mind.

She willed herself to wait an hour before measuring him again. He was the same, just over 1.2 inches. She measured a second time to make sure. The shrinking had stopped. Finally.

She checked the clock. It was 10:20 in the morning on July 22. Andy Speed was 40 years, 10 months, and 29 days old. He was 1.21 inches tall and he weighed .0138 ounces.

Now started a period of 24 to 48 hours where his size would be stable and he would experience long periods of wakefulness like a healthy person, after which he would start growing again. She shed happy tears and thanked God. They had made it. The end of this ordeal was in sight.

She texted his final height to Brooke, who replied a few minutes later, "Your boobs weigh 600 tons to him. Proceed with caution =P"

Kimberly looked in the dresser mirror and turned to the side to view her breasts in profile. She was a lot of woman, but 600 tons? That was insane. And that was just in her bra.

The pen she used last night was on the nightstand. She took off the pen cap. It was about Andy's size, maybe a bit bigger. She returned to the mirror and held the pen cap next to her body. She bent down and dragged the pen cap over her calves and up her silky thighs. Andy really liked her long legs. She held the pen cap next to her panties, below her salivating vagina. There'd be no issues fitting him inside her, if she chose.

She removed her T-shirt and dropped the pen cap between her copious breasts, supported in one of her new 36G bras. It disappeared in her deep bosom. She shimmied her shoulders, felt the pen cap bouncing around between her breasts, behind her cleavage. Oh, wow, she thought. She could fit him in there, with room to spare.

She fished the tiny pen cap out of her bra and touched it to her throat. She ran it over her plush lips, licked it. She popped it in her mouth and turned it over and around on her tongue, pressing it against her cheeks, her teeth, and her rough palate. She spit it out in her palm and held it in front of her eyes.

This could be him, she thought. The dimensions of her body were the stuff of myth and legend. At her size, she could make her boyfriend's wildest dreams come true. Or his nightmares.

"I guess I'll go naked until my one-inch clothes fit me," she heard his amplified voice behind her. She pulled her T-shirt back on and approached the crib slowly. Andy was standing naked in the vast crib between two sets of miniature outfits, one set obviously too big, the other set too small.

"Those 1-inch clothes will never fit you," she said, pausing a beat to hold him in suspense. "You stopped shrinking about 2 hours ago."

"Yes!" Andy stretched his arms out and fell back on the crib mattress.

"That's no excuse for going naked, though. At least not all day." She took his 2-inch outfit and cut the arms and legs to a suitable length for his short limbs. He used a piece of floss to cinch his loose trousers to his waist.

"I want a momento of how small you are." She put her Bible in the crib next to him. He ran a hand over the black, marbled leather and the gold lettering. The book binding was taller than him.

Kimberly took out her smartphone. "Strike a manly pose. Pretty please?"

Andy had forbidden any pictures being taken of him while he was shrunk, but the joy of finally reaching the turning point of the disease overrode his shyness. He flexed his arms in a body builder pose and growled menacingly.

"Very cute," Kimberly said lowering her phone. "Are you hungry?"

Andy took a moment to gauge his hunger level. For the first time since his depression, he wasn't hungry. "I'm not," he said, surprised at himself.

"Good. That means I can give you your surprise now."

She put him on a corner of the bed and left the room for a few minutes. Then she came back in and rummaged through the closet. "Close your eyes. No peeking," she said. Andy covered his eyes. He heard the ruffle of fabric sliding over skin and hitting the floor. She was changing clothes. Then a heavy creak as her body joined his on the bed. The bending mattress rocked him like a rowboat in 10-foot seas, throwing off his equilibrium.

"Okay, Andy, open your eyes."

He uncovered his eyes. Kimberly's pretty face was in front of him, her cheek resting on the comforter, her plump, painted lips pursed in a catty smile.

"What's the surprise?" he asked.

"This." She scooped him up in her hands and turned onto her back, holding him above her body. More of her came into view as he gained altitude, lying on his belly looking through a gap between her tree trunk-sized fingers.

After her face, the first thing he saw was her graceful neck. It seemed impossible that her neck could support such a huge weight as her head. Locks of her bouncy, chestnut-colored hair tumbled to the bed and over her strong, broad shoulders, which went way out to the sides and made her head look normal by comparison. He recognized the cut-off blouse she was wearing as belonging to her Twin Peaks uniform.

Her opulent breasts started high on her athletic frame, and very far apart. Lower down, their preposterous girth brought them together in a tectonic collision of pale, pillowy flesh. Her abundance burst from the red-checkered top in the only direction it could, out from her chest. Below the bowed neckline, her round orbs swelled towards his tiny form like a pair of hot-air balloons. They were 4 storeys tall, doing justice to the name of the restaurant where he had first seen them in their glory.

Her flat belly followed. Her long, lean body went on forever. Years of varsity volleyball and soccer had toned her core and all but eliminated her baby fat. Her belly button winked as her abs flexed. Her skintight khaki shorts hugged her fertile, womanly hips and tanned thighs. Her crotch curved under her pelvis into dark shadow, forbidding access.

And finally her unblemished gams, bronze obelisks, so smooth and strong, prettier than the collonades of St. Peter's Square. They ran down, down, down, over half a football field in length. White tube socks came up to her calves, covering her elegant feet.

Andy gaped at the beautiful giant girl, synapses misfiring in his brain. He couldn't remember the shy girl she used to be just 2 months ago. Had he still been 6 feet, 1 inch tall, Kimberly would have appeared 342 feet long, a felled skyscraper of eroticism. There was so much of her, everywhere he looked. It was impossible to take all of her in at once, and yet it was impossible to look away. She was a goddess.

She inclined her head to see him over her epic décolletage. "I never got rid of my Twin Peaks uniform. What do you think?"

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," Andy said truthfully.

She chuckled, confidence in her charms off the charts. Of course he was in heaven. She was so hot, and he was so, so tiny. She could feel his worshipful gaze, full of awe and fear. She understood Brooke's fascination. Kimberly could do anything she wanted with her boyfriend, and he would go along with it. He was her willing captive, addicted to her largesse and his own desire for her. She had him wrapped around her finger, literally and figuratively. The power was as close to absolute as you could get, and it was intoxicating.

She set him down on the bed next to her crotch and turned onto her side. Her socked foot impacted the bed, far from Andy but close enough to make him jump. She extended her arms, raising off the bed and stretching her smooth abdomen out. He backed away, sensing the potential energy of her enormous body hanging above him. She extended her long, willowy left arm over her head, running her hand through the mass of her wavy hair, and gyrated her hips in a sensual dance.

She whispered, "It won't be long before you start growing, little man. You're as small as you're ever going to get. We won't have another day like today. Whatever you want to do, we should do it."

It took him a second to register that she was talking to him. "What?"

"I said whatever you want to do, we should do it. Our time is short."

"I… I'm drawing a blank, Kim. We've done everything."

She thrust her huge crotch towards him. "Not everything, Andy."

He steeled himself. "We agreed we would save that for later."

How easily he fell for her misdirection. "I didn't mean that." She twisted around until it was just her face in front of him again. Her minivan-sized tongue wet her red, juicy lips. "I meant my mouth."

Andy blanched, his sphincter clinching with fear. "What about your mouth?"

She smiled broadly, her white teeth sparkling. Her bright blue eyes stared him down like he was her next meal.

"I want to experience you in my mouth, Andy. All of you."

It was tough on Kimberly, Andy being so tiny. She communicated her affection for her boyfriend mostly through physical touch, but he weighed next to nothing now and she couldn't even feel him in most contexts. If you can't feel someone, how can you touch him? She figured the best answer was to take advantage of the most sensitive parts of her body. Her nipples had led the way so far. Her virgin pussy was strictly off-limits. But the one thing they hadn't tried was her mouth.

Andy was on the verge of a nervous breakdown at her suggestion. "I don't think I can do that, Kim."

"What's the matter? Are you scared?" she said. Her voice was measured, determined. The decision was already made. He was going in her mouth.

"Hell yes, I'm scared!" he snapped.

"What are you scared of?"

He looked past her parted lips, into her dark, muggy mouth. At the back of her mouth was her esophagus, and at the bottom of that, her stomach.

"I… Oh!" He balled his fists in frustration. It sounded so childish, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Going into my mouth cedes the last bit of control of your life to me, is that it?" she said.

He nodded. It wasn't being eaten that he feared. It was the absolute helplessness of putting your life in the jaws of another person. Hearing her give voice to that fear provided instant emotional relief, and helped him to cope with it.

"You're 1.21 inches tall, Andy. Don't you think it's time you surrendered control and put your faith in something bigger than yourself?"

He started pacing on the bed, glancing occasionally at her huge form. He couldn't believe he was actually considering going into her mouth. He was going to have to get his head examined when all this was over.

"If I do this, what assurances will I have that you won't swallow me?"

"What assurances would you like?"

He hitched up his miniature pants, felt the floss dig into his waist. That gave him an idea.

"I want a lifeline. I want it tied around my wrist, so you can pull me out if you need to."

"Deal." She stood up and went to the bathroom. She returned with a foot-long piece of floss. He undressed, and she tied a loose knot that Andy stuck his minuscule right hand through. She tightened it slowly over his wrist.

"Tell me before it starts to hurt."

He flinched as the waxy cord dug into his skin. "Keep going. It needs to be tight."

When he was satisfied that the knot was tight enough, she picked him up and sat on the edge of the bed. She held him below her face. "Ready?"

He trembled with fright. "No. Take me to the nightstand." She did. "Bring that Bible over here." She retrieved the Bible from the crib and put it next to him. He climbed onto the cover, floss trailing behind him. "Put your chin down there next to the Bible."

She smirked. He was so adorable, giving her orders at his size. She got on her knees and rested her chin on the nightstand, so her lips just cleared the binding.

"Go real slow, okay?"

"Okay." She exhaled softly. Her breath smelled like toothpaste.

He became a blur on the periphery of her vision as he walked up to her face. Closed, Kimberly's lips were 2 feet tall and 10 feet wide to him. She was wearing a cherry red lipstick that made them look extra plump and glossy. There were soft, vertical folds in both lips packed with touch receptors. He touched his penis to one of those folds.

"I can feel you," she moaned. The anticipation was killing her.

The movement of her huge, red lips as she spoke made him stumble back. "Let's do this before I change my mind," he said.

"Relax, Andy. This will be fun, I promise."

"Remember, go real slow." If he died, those would be his last words. He took his voice amplifier out of his ear and put it on the Bible.

He walked down the width of her beautiful face, patting her plush bottom lip, deliberately rubbing his body into it, smearing lipstick on his skin. Her lips twitched, then relaxed, opening about a foot from his perspective, chest high on his tiny body. Kimberly's nostrils, directly above him, blew his hair back with every exhale.

He reached his hand through the dark gap in her lips. Her deep mouth allowed more and more of his arm. When he was in past his elbow, his hand touched a tooth. A bottom tooth. He felt its rough surface, its serrated edge.

Her lips puckered, billowing out and taking in his arm up to the shoulder. His arm pit met the curve of her plump bottom lip. He grabbed the serrated edge of her tooth, almost as deep as his fingers were long.

Kimberly felt Andy's little arm probing her teeth. She ran her wet tongue inside her closed lips. His arm was like a toothpick—a sliver of a toothpick—on her tongue. She couldn't stand it. She sucked gently, urging more of him into her mouth.

Andy felt an uncanny force pulling on his arm, causing his belly and head to sink into her puckered lips. The force relented, and her upper lip levered open, admitting his tiny head into the entrance to her mouth. It was very humid and dark in there. Andy appreciated the darkness. He did not want to see the teeth that could grind his body to pieces.

With her lips and teeth parted, she rocked her head forward on her chin, sliding her upper lip over the top of his head, the size of a kernel of corn. The fine hairs on his head tickled. His head, shoulders, and one arm were inside her. The rest of him would follow quickly.

Her lips came down around his chest, and her cheeks pressed in from the sides. The air pressure in her mouth dropped. His ear drums crackled at the sudden change in atmosphere. She was sucking him again.

He had to laugh. Kimberly was so big, she had her own weather patterns. Next, she'd get her own ZIP code.

His feet lost contact with the leather Bible. He held onto the floss for dear life as her lips worked down to his waist. Something wet and heavy slapped him in the face. Her tongue.

Only Andy's little legs were left. Kimberly held him in place with her lips as she slid her tongue underneath the delicious morsel that was her boyfriend. She curled the tip of her tongue up between his legs, tilted her head back, and lifted the rest of him into her mouth.

Kimberly's tongue slithered under his chest. There was nothing in normal-sized life that he could compare her huge tongue to, except maybe the pink ooze in Ghostbusters II. The powerful muscle lifted him off her bottom lip, wrapped over his butt, and pulled his legs inside her mouth. Her lips closed behind him, immersing him in total darkness.

If ever you've been swimming at night, that's what Kimberly's mouth sounded like. But it was less moist than Andy thought it would be, more tropical rainforest than underwater cave.

He reached his arms out over the slick, dewy surface of her tongue, looking for something to hold onto. He wanted to turn around, to face towards the entrance to her mouth. He remembered the floss tied to his right wrist and trapped between her lips. If he pulled it taut, he could use gravity to turn his body. But that would mean intentionally falling deeper into her maw. Before he could make a decision, the front end of her tongue rose and pinned his lower body to her palate.

Holding Andy steady against the roof of her mouth, Kimberly rose from her crouch and climbed into bed. She lay her head on the pillows and slid her khaki shorts down. While she played with Andy in her mouth, she fingered herself to oblivion.

Her tongue angled forward, spilling Andy into the bottom of her mouth, in front of her frenulum. He sat with his back against her inner gum line, while the tip of her tongue lapped his belly. He thrust his hips to feel her tongue on his member.

After that, he wasn't sure what happened. Her tongue tucked under his balls and catapulted him to his left, raking him over her bicuspids and sinking him into her right cheek. Up and down became meaningless as he was bombarded from all sides by her oral cavity. It wasn't pleasant at all and went on for several minutes. Furthermore, he was running low on oxygen, as Kimberly was breathing exclusively through her nose and kept her lips shut. He felt like he was going to throw up when all of a sudden the floss pulled taut and he was yanked upwards.

Still jerking off with one hand, Kimberly tilted her chin up and grabbed the floss between her fingers. Relaxing her lips, she pulled on the floss, lifting Andy to her lips. She opened her jaws wide, allowing him to twist in the wind, so to speak, inside her gaping mouth.

Andy took a welcome breath of fresh air. Straight above him was Kimberly's hand holding his lifeline, and past her hand, the ceiling fan of the guest room. The sight below him was less conciliatory. He was hanging in the air like a worm on a hook, surrounded by two rows of sharp, white teeth. Under him was a cataclysm of pink, voracious flesh, runny with spit.

Andy felt goosebumps on his already pruned skin. It occurred to him that digestion started in the mouth, and that Kimberly's saliva had begun a process of chemically decomposing his body that continued in the stomach and ended eventually in the intestines. So, in a sense, she had already begun to eat him.

She aspirated through her mouth, a horrifying sound, like a lion's roar, only much quieter and closer. Her mouth seemed to expand even deeper, as the top of her esophagus opened up, allowing him to peer straight down her throat. Her bright pink uvula writhed in the gale-force wind of her breath.

The floss was digging hard into Andy's right wrist, cutting off circulation to his hand. He reached up with his left hand to try to take some of the weight off his right, but the floss was too slippery to grip. That's when he noticed the tied end of the knot on his wrist dangerously close to unraveling.

"Kim, the knot!" he screamed, but, close as she was, his little voice couldn't reach her ears.

Her esophagus closed, and her massive tongue reached out for him, a shark rising to the bait. It touched his back and rolled into a soft, quivering cylinder, cocooning his body. Her tongue proceeded to give him a full-body massage. He closed his eyes and imagined himself full-sized, wrapped in Kimberly's willowy arms and lithe, athletic body. For the first time since he entered her mouth, he was aroused.

The knot slipped free, and Andy fell. He clawed desperately, but there was nothing firm to hold onto. He slid down her tongue and plummeted past her uvula to the back of her throat. He looked up, towards freedom. Her mouth had to be at least 30 feet deep. Under him, he could feel the air rushing through her adjacent nasal passage. Completing his nightmare, her jaws closed, plunging him into darkness once again.

Any moment now, he thought, she would consume him. He supposed it was inevitable. For her to eat him was the natural course for their relationship to take, his final act of devotion to her. She was his entire world. He would give his life for her, a sacrifice to his goddess. In her was where he belonged.

Once he accepted it, the fear ebbed away. He was happy, not for himself, but for her.

Holding him behind her tongue, Kimberly studied the empty floss with a sense of irony. How silly, to trust your life on something so flimsy. She wondered how Andy felt without his lifeline. He was so tiny, so helpless, as reliant on her providence as a little baby developing in her uterus, deep inside her, surrounded by her nurturing body.

She sighed through her nose. It would be so easy to contract her throat muscles, to swallow Andy, the love of her life, to make him part of her… forever.

These thoughts were more stimulating than she anticipated. Suddenly she was on the cusp of release. Moaning gutturally, she kept up the pace with her hand. The mental image she projected of Andy disappearing down her throat was the final straw. Her virgin pussy squirted sweet, nectar-scented juices all over her thighs and on the bed.

Andy fell on his belly on the soft, quivering flesh of Kimberly's throat, several inches deep in saliva. Her intense moans rattled his world. Bereft of his senses, he attempted to press deeper inside her. He WANTED to become one with her, WANTED to be eaten. There was no better way to die than this. He humped her soft flesh, howling like a madman. The orgasm rocked through his tiny body, releasing all his demons, purging all his sins and worries. Catharsis.

Awash with delight, Kimberly touched her forehead, forcing herself to focus after the mind-numbing orgasm. She tilted her head forward and unfurled her tongue. Andy's flaccid body drifted out of her mouth like flotsam and landed in a puddle of saliva and semen below her collar bone, gravity dragging him down deep between her heaving breasts. A few more aftershocks from her pulsating pussy shook her body before she blacked out.

The jingle of the doorbell brought Kimberly back to the world of the living. She sat up on her elbows and looked around the room, her mind piecing together where she was, reconstructing the events leading up to her loss of consciousness. Her panties and the bed sheets were still soaked in her juices. She couldn't have been asleep for long.

She noticed the floss on the bed. Andy. She touched the base of her throat. She had been swishing him around in her mouth when she climaxed. She didn't swallow him, did she? No. She vividly remembered spitting him out.

The doorbell rang again. Kimberly pulled her khaki shorts on and looked around the bed. "Andy!" she whispered. He could be nearby, and she didn't want to deafen him with her big voice. She checked the creases in the sheets, under the pillows, under her hips and thighs. Where was he?

An insistent knocking came from the front door. "Kimberly!" a woman's voice called out.

She scooted to the edge of the bed and lowered her feet to the floor, trying not to touch anything she hadn't inspected first. She moved slowly towards the hallway, eyes scanning every surface Andy could be standing on.

The voice amplifier, nothing more than a speck to her, lay on her black leather Bible next to the bed. Without it, Andy had no voice. He was all but invisible at his size. He could be right next to her, but if she didn't see him, she couldn't find him.

More knocking. "Kim, it's your mother!"

Uh-oh, she thought. She moved into the hallway. "Coming!" she called down from the top of stairs. She looked down at her tight, revealing top. If her mom saw her dressed like this, she would throw a fit. She ran back to the closet in the guest room and pulled a T-shirt over the cut-off blouse. She glanced at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked at least half-decent. It would do.

"Coming!" she called out as she pounded down the stairs. As soon as I get rid of her, I'll look for Andy, she promised to herself.

Andy was jostled awake. He tried to move, but his limbs felt like they were tied down. He could only move his neck and head. Whatever he was tied to, it was moving fast.

He opened his eyes, and he was welcomed mostly by darkness but for a flexible, narrow strip of indistinct light that ran vertically across his field of vision. "Where am I?" he said. His mind was still foggy from experiencing Kimberly's mouth. She must have swallowed me after all, he thought ambivalently. This sure was different from what he expected.

The strip of light suddenly intensified.

Kimberly opened the front door. "Hi, Momma." She looked down at her little brother. They were both dressed for church. "Hey, Brandon. Where's Dad?"

"He had a meeting," Trina said. "We haven't seen much of you this week, so we decided to stop by on our way home, maybe take you out to lunch." She glanced disapprovingly at her daughter's shorts, which left a lot of her long legs uncovered. "Sleeping in late for a Sunday, aren't we?"

In all honesty, Kimberly had forgotten it was Sunday. "It was a long night," she didn't lie. "Mr. Speed finally stopped shrinking."

"How small did he get?" Brandon asked excitedly.

Kimberly held her fingers apart. "About 1.2 inches tall."

"Cool! Can I see?"

"No, Brandon," Trina said. "Mr. Speed probably wants to rest."

Andy tilted his chin towards his chest. The muscles in his neck told him he was hanging upside down. He heard his blood pumping in his ears. He was under some kind of pale cloth, which filtered the light. He could make out shapes and shadows beyond the cloth.

I must be in Kimberly's purse, he thought. That would explain the narrow slit of light above him. Thoughtful as always, she had kept her purse zipped open so he could see out, but also draped a towel or napkin over the opening so no one could see in.

But why am I naked? he thought. She should have dressed me before leaving the house. And what am I stuck to? I feel like a fly caught in flypaper. And why is my heart pounding?

"I don't suppose you want to go out to lunch with us," Trina said.

"I really should stay here with Mr. Speed," Kimberly replied, affecting remorse.

"What if we came inside and whipped something up in the kitchen? If Mr. Speed's asleep, he shouldn't mind, right?"

It wasn't the first time Trina outwitted her daughter. Seeing no alternative, Kimberly grudgingly held the door open, letting her mother and brother into the house. She looked up the stairs on her way to the kitchen. Andy was somewhere up there, all alone. Maybe he was fine, or maybe he needed her. For the past week she had known exactly where he was at all times. Not knowing where he was left her with an empty feeling. I'll be there soon, she thought.

The light dimmed, and Andy heard a door close. Kimberly was indoors somewhere. He heard muffled voices, one voice in particular louder than the others. His world swayed gently, then quaked to a halt, as he assumed Kimberly was setting her purse down somewhere.

At last he peeled his arm free. He held it in front of his face and sniffed. It smelled like mint. His arm hair was matted to his skin. Some kind of liquid adhesive had crystallized all over his body. "What the hell?" he said. He ran his fingers through his stiff, matted hair.

He touched the surface he was stuck to. It was warm and firm, covered in short, downy hair. He looked up towards his legs, noticed another light source far above him. He was in a narrow tunnel with peach-colored walls.

"You've got to be kidding," he said, looking at his surroundings with a new appreciation. The cloth canopy was Kimberly's shirt. The slit of light was the gap between her colossal breasts. The tunnel above him was the deepest part of her cleavage. The palpitations of his heart was really the beating of Kimberly's humongous heart behind her sternum. He was stuck to her chest, INSIDE her bosom.

Kimberly and Brandon sat at the dining table and waited for Trina to serve them lunch. She was at home in any kitchen and worked quickly.

"What is this on the floor?" Trina said. Kimberly jumped up to her feet to look, thinking possibly Andy had made it all the way to the kitchen on his own. But her mother had merely found the spot where they had spilled vegetable oil yesterday.

"Grease spill," she said dejectedly, sitting back down. She really missed her boyfriend.

"Hm," Trina intoned. She served their sandwiches, led the family in prayer, and they ate.

Andy made a racket in Kimberly's roomy bosom. He shouted at the top of his lungs and banged his fist on her chest. It was no use. He was so insignificant, she couldn't hear him, couldn't even feel him.

He peeled his other arm free and pushed against Kimberly's chest to break the saliva adhesive that held him in place. It was like ripping off a poster-sized Band-Aid. His efforts were too successful, as his back separated from her skin, and his legs became the only points of contact between himself and her chest. He fell head first through her cleavage, into deeper darkness. He rolled onto a stiff, concave surface and slammed against a softer, but no less solid, wall. He was on the built-in bra band of her cut-off blouse, under the left edge of her round right breast.

Kimberly didn't have much of an appetite, but ate anyway to keep up appearances. She sleepwalked through conversation with her mother and brother, preoccupied with finding Andy and praying that he was okay.

She couldn't take it anymore. She stood up abruptly. "I should check on Mr. Speed, see if he needs anything."

"Okay. Let me put away these dishes and we'll go," Trina said. Kimberly watched her antsily, then decided to help clean up. She would do anything if it got them to leave sooner rather than later.

Andy didn't stand much of a chance against Kimberly's mighty breast. As her body rose, it surged forward into her top, opening a small gap that he sank into up to his waist. When she straightened her back, it rolled on top of him.

He sucked in air as her breast weight came down on his legs above the knees. Tendons popped; bones creaked and shifted. Somehow, his legs didn't deform completely. They held up under the pressure. The pain was shocking, and he had to remind himself to breathe. He pushed and punched against her underboob, but of course it didn't budge. It was too massive, too pliable for him to have any effect on it.

Relief came less than a minute later as Kimberly reached for a clean dish out of the dish strainer. Again, gravity elevated her breast a fraction of an inch off her inverted chest, freeing Andy's delicate body. He pulled himself using only his arms to the middle of the bra band, dragging his benumbed legs behind him. A split second later Kimberly's right breast settled back with a doughy crash.

I bet Kim doesn't even know I'm in here. She's lost me, he thought. And she wasn't going to find him because he was in the last place she would look. Later she would give him up for dead, step into the shower, and wash the bloody entrails that were his remains off her breasts. She would think she was on her period as he washed down the drain.

"Bye, Kim. Don't be a stranger. Tell Mr. Speed our offer to have him over for dinner still stands," Trina said, as she and Brandon were leaving.

"I will," Kimberly said, shutting the door behind them. Finally! she thought. She sprinted upstairs. She slowed down outside the guest bedroom and hesitantly took a step inside. Unsurprisingly, everything was just as she left it.

"Andy, if you can hear me, move towards the door," she said, loudly and clearly. She waited a few minutes, standing stock still, eyes continually running over the floor. She bunched her toes on the carpet. Could he even walk on carpet? she wondered.

"Check your top," Andy groused, rubbing the feeling back into his legs.

Kimberly turned the guest room upside down. First thing she did was to shake out the comforter, sheets, and pillow cases. Then she checked under the bed and searched every square inch of the floor. Then she pulled the dresser and the nightstand away from the walls. Andy was nowhere to be found.

After an hour's fruitless search, she was in panic mode. She started to wonder how long Andy could survive on his own. It only took a day or so to die from dehydration. If he could crawl across the carpet, he would try for the bathroom, where a single stray drop of water from the shower was enough to last him for days, long enough for him to regain a few inches.

She went out into the hallway. It was a 6-foot walk to the bathroom, longer than a soccer field to Andy. It would seem even longer than that if he was hurt, or if traversing the carpet was like wading waist deep in cat hair.

She turned red as she remembered tramping through this hallway twice since she realized he was missing. She checked the bottom of her feet. No sign of him, but that meant nothing. She could have grinded him into the carpet.

She searched the hallway floor on her hands and knees. It would be better to find him dead than to not find him at all, she thought bitterly. Tears clouded her vision. She was in deep trouble, and she needed help.

She called Brooke on her cell phone. "Having fun?" Brooke answered.

"I lost him, Brooke! I have no idea where he is!"

"Hold on." Kimberly waited while Brooke found a quiet corner in the ice cream shop. "When did you last see him?"

"About 2 hours ago, I think. We were… in bed, in the guest room, and I fell asleep. My family came over and I had to humor them while they stayed and ate lunch. Brooke, I looked everywhere! I don't know what to do."

"Where did you look?"

"In the guest room and the hallway."

"Did you check the bed, under the sheets?"

"That was the first place I looked."

"What about his crib?"

Kimberly paused. How could she have forgotten about the crib?

"Hold on." She tiptoed into the guest room and searched the crib. She pulled away the sheets and lifted the small, thin mattress. No Andy.

The last bit of hope in her, rekindled so briefly, died. "He's not here!" she wailed.

"What about your hair?"

She went to the bathroom and searched her chestnut brown locks in the mirror. She shook her head until her neck hurt, in the vain hope her 40 year-old, 1.21-inch boyfriend would fall out.

"Brooke, I need your help. Can you get off work and come home?"

"Did you look in your clothes?"

"You mean in the closet? No, why would he—"

"The clothes you're wearing, Kim."

Kimberly was silent. The first thing she did when she woke up was pull on her shorts. Could he be…?

She unbuttoned her shorts and slid them off her legs. She checked the crotch and the pockets, then removed her still wet panties. She poked her fingers in her tender vagina, in her butt crack.

"Well?" Brooke asked.

"Wait a minute." She took off her T-shirt, turned it inside out. She pulled the cut-off blouse up over her head. 

Andy detected the change in lighting when her T-shirt came off. There was one less barrier between him and the open air. Then the elastic band he was on started to stretch and move. He sunk his fingers into the plaid, polyester blouse and hung on as he was flipped down and out into the harsh light of the bathroom. He ascended past her teardrop-shaped breasts, which jumped for joy at being freed from the cleavage-enhancing top. Ropey strands of chestnut-colored hair cascaded around him as he was lifted up over her head and arms. Then, a sight for sore eyes and an even sorer body: Kimberly's beautiful, compassionate face.

"Andy!" she cried, tears of elation flowing down her cheeks.

"You found him?! Where was he?" Brooke's tinny voice blared from the cell phone.

"In my blouse."

She laughed. "See? Playing in your boobs again, I'm sure. Such a guy. Okay, I gotta get back to work before Eric notices I'm gone. Love ya." She hung up.

Kimberly set her phone down. Forgetting her state of undress, she cupped Andy in both hands like he was made of glass and carried him to the guest room. She urged him to walk off her palm onto the nightstand, but he just reclined on his back, looking up at her.

She scooped up the voice amplifier on her fingernail and offered it to him. He nodded gratefully and put it in his ear.

"Can you hear me? Are you all right?" His magnified voice, full of concern—for HER—caused a new spate of tears to flow down her cheeks.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" she asked.

"I've been better. I can't move my legs. Your boobs almost crushed me."

She cupped her right breast self-consciously. "I'm so sorry, Andy. How did you get in there?"

"I dunno. I was in your mouth and, next thing I know, I'm stuck to your chest."

"Covered in my spit, probably. Would you like to take a bath?"

He touched his crusty hair. "Yeah. I can't swim, though. We need to find something shallow enough for me to lie down in without drowning."

Kimberly looked down at her huge, naked body. "I have an idea."

She slid her panties on and got a cup of warm water and a fingernail of soap from the bathroom. She lay on her back on the bed and poured a small amount water over her flat, toned belly.

"In you go." She lifted him by the arms and lowered him butt first into her belly button. It was like sitting in an inner tube. Only his head and feet were out of the water that filled her navel. He took the soap from her and started to scrub himself clean.

She watched her miniscule boyfriend between her breasts, his bath rising and falling with her belly as she breathed. The stress of almost losing him receded into the background, leaving in its wake her heightened libido, all the more acute.

"What was it like, being in my mouth?" she asked.

"It was like you said. It was like… living or dying wasn't important anymore, and I was fine with whatever happened," he replied.

She bit her lower lip, remembering the thrill of feeling his tiny body squirming in her gullet. "Do you want to do it again?"

He rolled out of her belly button. He labored to push himself up onto his knees. "Not for awhile, Kim. I'm tired."

"Are you too tired to play with these?" She kneaded her massive breasts in her hands, rolling them in circles on the plateau of her chest. They rumbled like volcanoes, sending tremors through the surrounding terrain.

He chuckled. "It's not a question of motivation, Kim. My legs don't work."

She smiled slyly. She reached for the floss from their earlier mouthplay and tied one end around her stiffening left nipple.

"I don't believe that, Andy. Remember, you have a limited time at this size. My boobs will only get smaller from now on." She draped the floss over her bosom, letting it fall to her ribs.

Andy's heart raced at the sight of her lofty teat and the tacit challenge she had set before him. Seriously, was there a luckier guy on earth than him?

She licked her finger and smeared saliva over her hard nipple. "Prove your weakness, Andy. Prove to me you're physically unable to make love to the biggest boobs you've ever seen."

He crawled up her slick, warm belly while she urged him on with her teasing voice.

"Your little brain thought my gigantic boobs crippled you, but your other little brain has a different opinion. I wonder which one is right. I guess we'll see."

He arrived at the base of her prodigious left breast. He grabbed the floss and tried pulling himself up using only his arms. Not even halfway up, his hands gave out and he fell back down to her chest.

"Aw, you're not going to let my 600-ton boobs get the better of you twice in one day, are you?"

Six hundred tons, he thought, shaking his head. Three hundred tons apiece. Where did she come up with that? His crazy daughter, probably.

He grabbed the floss again and planted his aching feet on her soft underboob, and he was standing perpindicular to its vertical face. Step by step, he scaled her sheer breast.

"That's it, Andy," she purred. "Your legs are working. See what miraculous healing you're capable of? That's what my giant, sexy boobs can do for a little man like you."

"You have divine powers, my goddess," Andy said breathlessly, playing along. Her beige nipple rose above the curve of her breast. He crawled up to it and stood on his knees on her firm areola. The nipple rose to the level of his chin and was thicker around than him. He untied the knot and tossed the floss off her breast, somewhere down into her deep cleavage.

He wrapped his arms and legs around her nipple. His body left impressions on its peachy surface. He stared down the eye of her milk duct. He stuck his tongue inside. She tasted sweet. He wondered if it was possible for her to produce milk for him. The notion made him very hard.

She shuddered at his delicate touch. He felt softer than a feather. "Your goddess gives you permission to make love to her," she said.

So he did. He humped her teat like a puppy, and within a minute his testicles dumped their contents onto her child-sized nub, leaving behind a white, filmy glaze. He collapsed onto his back, his bodyweight not even denting her pillowy flesh.

Kimberly didn't wait for him to catch his breath. Her fingertip grazed his ear, knocking out the voice amplifier.

"Okay, little man. You've had your fun. Now I'll have mine." She picked his tiny body up and unceremoniously popped him in her mouth. Sucking him inside her cheek, she went to town on her primed, wet pussy.

Andy was at his smallest for a little over a day. On Monday afternoon he started to grow at the same pace as he shrank. With the worst of the disease behind them, he and Kimberly continued to have fun at their ever-changing respective sizes. The use of floss was a revelation, and they introduced it to their repertoire of games.

But all was not well. Underneath the smiles and the folly, Kimberly felt tense and uneasy. The import of the promises the two lovers had made to each other seemed suddenly upon her. Now that Andy was growing, their idyllic, island-like romance was falling further under the weight of an impending return to reality. Lurking in her mind was the fear that his love was an aberration, and his feelings for her would fade as he regained his stature and his normal way of life.

She didn't want to kill Andy's jovial mood, so she kept her concerns to herself. It wasn't hard to hide her deepest emotions from the shrunken man. The size difference at this extreme fostered an emotional disconnect, whereby anything that wasn't related directly by voice or touch was missed by both of them: by her because her eyes weren't sharp enough to read him, by him because there was so much of her that her body language was too much information for him to process. But for how long could she hold her emotions in check before Andy noticed them? For when he did notice them, it surely would prompt a serious talk about the future, the result of which she wasn't sure of.

For his part, Andy felt no sense of urgency, no fear of a return to normal, because there was no normal to return to. The shrinking disease was a line of demarcation in his life. Before, there was Alicia and Brooke's childhood. After, there was Kimberly and Brooke's adulthood. He was a brand new man.

On the third day of his regrowth, as he was belaying down Kimberly's back from her bra strap, the house phone rang. She ran to the kitchen, swinging him like a pendulum over her round butt cheeks.

She was giggling as she answered the phone. "Hello?"

It was a woman's voice, but deep, and tight with sorrow. Her accent was from somewhere in New England, maybe Canada. "This is Madeline Prater. Can I speak to Andrew Speed, please?"

Kimberly smile faded. She looked down at Andy, whom she'd placed on the counter. "Do you know Madeline Prater?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," he replied.

"What is this in regards to?" Kimberly said.

"My husband was Robert. He worked with Alecia Speed."

Andy remembered. Madeline Prater was Robert the lawyer's wife—widow, now. The last time Andy had seen her, she was picking up her husband's body in Richmond. So far away the recent past seemed to him. 

He gestured to Kimberly to place the handset next to him. He said into the transmitter, "Hello, Mrs. Prater. This is Andy Speed."

"Hi, Andy. Please, call me Madeline. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

He glanced at Kimberly. "Not at all. What's this about?"

"I have information about your wife."

"What information?"

There was something like a shudder or sob on the other end of the line. "I feel like we should discuss it in person. Can you meet me at 2 o'clock. Mirkwood Park?"

"Uh, okay."

She hung up without saying goodbye. Kimberly held the receiver to her ear to make sure. She hung up. "What do you think she wants?"

"She must have found out about Alecia and Robert."

"I mean what does she want with you?" she clarified. He shrugged. "Are you going to meet her?"

"I said I would."

She nodded resignedly and looked at the clock. "It's one, and the park is on the other side of town. We better get going."

He touched her arm. "You don't mind taking me, do you, Kim?"

Her look was business-like. "Why would I mind?"

Madeline was easy to spot at the park. It wasn't crowded, it being the hottest part of the afternoon. She was sitting by herself on a painted wood bench, wearing all black, watching her kids playing languidly in the midday sun.

Andy hadn't noticed how attractive Madeline was the first two times he'd seen her. She was tall, taller than Kimberly, and had a glamor-model physique that her conservative, black attire couldn't disguise.

She stood up when she saw Kimberly approach with Andy standing in her palm. "Hello, Andy."

"Hi, Madeline."

The widow looked at Kimberly the way a lady of the manor would dismiss a servant. Kimberly glared back at her and held her ground, letting the older woman know she would leave when her boyfriend asked her to.

"I'll be fine on the bench, Kim," Andy said, oblivious to the nonverbal jousting going on above him.

She lowered him to the wood bench and Madeline sat next to him, her black skirt sliding up her stockinged legs. Kimberly walked to a bench 20 yards away and watched them out of the corner of her eye.

This was Madeline's meeting, so he waited for her to speak. She stared placidly at the kids playing on the jungle gym, including her son and daughter. A few other women tended to their toddlers or chatted while their older children tired themselves out. Birds were chirping loudly in the thick, leafy trees.

"She's very pretty. Is she your daughter?" Madeline finally said.

"My daughter's friend, actually."

She frowned slightly. "Oh."

"What?"

"The way she held you, I thought… never mind."

Andy smiled thinly, waiting for the awkwardness to pass. Yes, he was head-over-heels in love with an 18 year-old girl. No, he didn't feel like talking about it to a recently widowed woman he hardly knew.

"One of my brothers had the shrinking disease last year. He shrank to less than 2 inches tall. How much smaller will you get?"

"I'm actually growing now. I was 1.2 inches tall just a couple of days ago." He cleared his throat. "So, you said you had information about my wife."

She sighed. "There's no easy way to say this, Andy. Your wife and my husband had a lot more than a professional relationship. Yesterday I found emails and text messages he was sending to Alecia. They were very flirtatious."

"I know," he said.

She did a double take. She half expected him to disbelieve her, and her hand was already halfway into her purse where she kept the printed emails to prove her claim.

"You do?" she asked, perplexed.

"Yeah. Well, not about the emails. But I've known about the text messages basically since she died."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"My priority was protecting my daughter from what happened." He weighed his next words carefully. "For what it's worth, Madeline, I knew my wife very well. She was a very reserved woman. I don't think she slept with Robert."

The widow laughed mirthlessly. "Well, I knew Bobby. If he didn't sleep with your wife, it was because he died before he got the chance. This isn't the first time he wandered outside our marriage."

"You're kidding," Andy said. What idiot would cheat on a knockout like Madeline? Then he remembered how close he'd come to cheating on his wife. Nobody in this situation, it seemed, was innocent, except maybe the woman sitting next to him.

A black crow alighted on the back of the bench, a pink worm wiggling in its gray beak. The bird's head moved jerkily as it eyed Andy on the seat. Madeline reached instinctively for him, encompassing him in her warm hand and holding him tight against her firm body. At her sudden movement, the crow hopped off the bench and flew away.

She opened her hand, palm up. "I'm sorry."

Andy looked over her bust at her made-up face. Big hazel eyes sparkled at him through long, dark lashes. High cheekbones arched from her pouty lips, forming a soft, feminine jaw line. She truly was a breathtakingly beautiful woman.

"That's okay. Good reflexes," he said.

She set him on his feet on her taut, black skirt between her spread thighs. "I'll keep you here, in case it comes back."

He sat down and folded his legs under him on the trampoline-like skirt. "It's partly my fault, what happened between Alicia and Robert."

She scoffed. "How?"

"When I was shrinking, I wasn't the easiest person to get along with. I pushed Alecia away. I think Robert became an outlet for her frustration. From there it grew into infidelity—or the possibility of infidelity," he corrected himself.

"You're not responsible for her choices, Andy."

"I don't believe that. No one makes choices in a vacuum. I'm not saying it's not wrong, I'm saying people have reasons to do what they do." He had to smile. It sounded like something Kimberly would say. He was recognizing more of her in himself every day.

"Well." Madeline pulled the emails out of her purse. "I don't suppose you want to see the evidence? Some of it is pretty steamy."

Andy looked from the sheaf of papers to Madeline's composed face. He saw past her captivating features, saw desperation there, and anger. Her motive for the meeting immediately became clear. She was furious at her dead, wayward husband, and she wanted him to be furious, too, so that they might put the memory of the dead behind them in each other's company. It was an ingenious plot that probably would have ensnared him, if he weren't content with where he was, thanks to Kimberly. He smirked wanly. Not so innocent after all.

"I hope one day you can forgive him," he said.

The mask fell from her face. A sob shook her body, and she lifted her hand to dab away a tear.

"I'm ready to go now. Can you wave her over?"

Madeline nodded as she put the emails back in her purse.

"What was that about?" Kimberly said when they were in her car, air conditioner running.

"It was as I thought. She found Robert's text messages and emails to Alecia. Apparently he cheated on her before. But I told her I didn't think she and Robert—"

"I mean her picking you up and putting you in her lap," Kimberly interrupted. "Do you let just any woman handle you like that?"

Andy was taken aback. She was jealous! He almost laughed. "Trust me, Kim, it was entirely innocent." Only it wasn't. "She was afraid the birds would eat me."

Kimberly harumphed. "Did you at least tell her we're a couple?"

Oh, boy, this is going south in a hurry, Andy thought. "I didn't want to make her jealous," he said lamely.

She blinked her eyes, as if absorbing an uppercut to the psyche. "That's the first lie you've ever told me."

"I'm not lying, Kim! She just lost her husband. I didn't think it would do her any good for me to talk about how I've moved on already. What would she feel if she knew I suffered the same loss as her and I was already dating some—some…" His voice trailed off.

Kimberly glowered. "What?"

"Don't do this, Kim—"

She forced the issue, wanting to know at least where the relationship stood and where it was going. "Some… WHAT, Andy? Finish your thought."

"Some tart who's half my age! There, I said it, are you happy?!" He took a deep breath to calm himself after his outburst. This was ridiculous. He loved Kimberly with all his heart. There was no one else for him.

"Look, you have nothing to worry about from Madeline," he said. "You're the only woman in my life. I love you, period."

Kimberly played with her fingers. "I know you do. I just wish your love didn't embarrass you. It doesn't embarrass me."

"I'm not embarrassed, Kim. It's just… what we have is a lot to explain. I don't think people would get it."

"Who cares whether they 'get it'?!" she erupted. "You don't have to explain yourself to anyone."

"But we do, Kim. We have to explain all of this to your parents. They have the power to make or break this deal. I need your dad's blessing to marry you, or it won't get done. I can't take you from them."

Kimberly's expression changed. "You want to marry me?"

Andy searched deep in his heart for any doubt. There was none. He couldn't pinpoint when exactly he knew this is what he wanted. He supposed it went back to being in her mouth. His soul had become intertwined with hers in that moment.

"Yeah," he said.

"You're not afraid to tell my parents?"

"With you by my side, I'm not afraid of anything."

Eyes watering, she fought herself for control. She'd dreamed about this moment all her life. It had come sooner than she expected. She was supposed to be in her 20s, not 18. And he was supposed to be a couple of years older than her and 6 feet tall, not 22 years older and 3 inches tall. But she was willing to compromise there. What she couldn't compromise was how she wanted to be asked.

"What makes you think I'll say yes?" she said coyly.

Andy got down on one knee in her quivering palm, his voice strong and purposeful. "Kimberly, I love you more than my own life. For better or for worse, I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?"

"Of course!"

She plastered him against her hand with a passionate kiss. He fought for breath between smacks from her plush lips. "Easy, Kim!" 

"Sorry." She put him on the dashboard. "You don't have to tell my parents on your own. We can tell them together."

"How? When?" These were riddles he hadn't been able to solve.

"Sunday. Come to church with us, to show them you're serious. Bring Brooke, too. We'll have lunch at my parents' house afterwards."

"You realize this means you can't stay at our house anymore, don't you?"

A burden visibly lifted off her shoulders. "Yeah, but a lifetime together is worth it!"

They told Brooke that they were engaged. It was the only way she would agree to quit her job so she could spend all day with Andy, allowing Kimberly to move back in with her parents. She was one paycheck shy of being able to afford the used car she wanted, but the excitement of her dad marrying her best friend offset her disappointment.

Sunday loomed large on the calendar. Both families would go to church in the morning, then have lunch at Kimberly's house. Somehow, during or after lunch, they would tell Roy and Trina that they were in love. Andy had no clue how that was going to happen.

Saturday night he bathed in the bathroom sink while Brooke straightened her dirty blond hair. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?" she asked him as she trimmed his beard.

"How can you tell?" he joked. He hadn't been able to stomach any food, and in general he just didn't know what to do with himself, so he ended up pacing around the house all day, deep in thought. He still had a limp from his near-fatal encounter with Kimberly's breasts.

"You'll do fine. You've done this once before, right?"

He smarted at the oblique reference to Alecia. "Yeah."

She gathered his tiny, severed hairs and tossed them in the garbage next to the toilet. "Tell me how it happened."

He smiled. It was one of his favorite stories. "I was still in college. I was a junior, your mother was a sophomore. We'd been dating since the spring, and your grandpa invited me on the first hunt of the season, out on his lease. Somehow, in the middle of the day, sitting by ourselves in the deer blind, we got to talking about girls, how a good girl stands by her man and gives him the space he asks for and all that. And I just blurted out that I wanted to marry Alecia. I don't know what I was thinking, I hadn't even asked HER yet.

"So grandpa looks at me, and he's still holding his rifle, the spitting image out of every boy's nightmare of meeting his girlfriend's dad. He goes, 'For the long haul, huh?' in that gravelly voice of his." Brooke nodded, captivated even though she'd heard the story a dozen times.

"Before I know it, he aims his rifle and drops a 10-point buck a hundred yards away. Then he goes, 'Rutting son of a bitch,' and he looks at me with this strange smile and asks me if I'm serious about committing myself to one woman the rest of my life."

"What'd you say?"

"I don't remember. But he goes, 'It can't be helped who a girl falls in love with.' And he told me he was fine with me asking Alecia to marry me, but he'd have to run it by your grandma first."

Brooke chuckled. It got better with every telling. "When Mom told it, she left out the 'Rutting son of a bitch' line."

"You've only heard the G-rated version until now," he said. He stepped closer to the mirror to examine the work Brooke had done, running his fingers over his flaxen beard. He couldn't have done much better with a beard trimmer at full size. Brooke had been exceptional since taking over his daily care from Kimberly. Was it unusual for her to be so cooperative with his moving on romantically from her mother?

He turned to look her in the eyes. "Thank you for being so mature through all this, Brooke. You know, your mom was one of a kind. What Kimberly and I have, it's different. I'm not doing this to replace her. There will be some similarities in the way she fits into our family, but a lot of the things that Mom meant to us we'll have only memories of. It's okay if it hurts. Understand?"

"I do, Daddy." She leaned over and pecked him on top of the head. "I'm happy for you. You shouldn't worry about tomorrow. Whatever happens, it will be okay. Paul says submit your requests to God and God's peace will guard you."

You could have tipped Andy over with a feather. He'd never heard Brooke talk like that before. "Paul told you that? My friend from work?"

"No. Paul the apostle. In Philippians."

He marveled at his daughter. Would she ever stop throwing him curveballs? "So you've been reading the Bible."

"Yeah. Kim loaned hers to me. Is that okay?"

"Sure," he replied, still dazed. It was better than okay. It was fantastic.

The 50-foot teen (proportionally speaking) looked up from her small father at her reflection to see if she could do anything more with her hair. It looked fine, but she detected an assymmetry in her overloaded nightshirt. Her hands darted over her chest to adjust her hefty bosom. Kimberly had also loaned her 38F bras for her to keep wearing. She filled the cups now, but the strap was still moderately loose. She had to shorten it by folding it back on itself and securing it with a paperclip.

"I'm still here, sweetie."

"Sorry, Daddy." She cupped her large hand under his body and took him to the crib in the office. She was getting to be less clumsy with him, he noticed. That, or he was less sensitive at his increased size. Compared to when he was 2 inches tall, interactions with his daughter now felt almost routine. He wasn't the size of a bug anymore. Just yesterday he had put the voice amplifier away for good, because Brooke complained his artificially increased voice was hurting her ears.

"Can you bring me my phone?" he asked.

She left his cell phone next to him in the crib and turned out the light. He dialed Kimberly. The buttons on his phone were as big as his palm.

"Hey," she answered.

He filled with warmth at the sound of her voice. "Hey. How was your day?"

"Fine. Momma and I went to a baby shower, and I took Brandon to the skate park."

"Sounds droll," he commented.

"It was. I miss you."

"I miss you, too." He decided to lead off with some gladdening news. "You know, Brooke is quoting the Bible now because of you."

He heard her bolt upright. "She is?"

"Yeah. What did you do to make her pick up the Bible? She doesn't have a religious bone in her body."

"It wasn't anything I did. It was God's Spirit working in her. Have you considered reading with her?"

"You think I should?"

"Yes! It would encourage her. And when we're married, I'd love for us to read the Bible as a family."

Andy's brow furrowed. He knew religion was a big part of Kimberly's life and character, but it wasn't that big a deal to him. He believed there was a God, but he didn't know much about Him. He wondered if, in middle life, he could change and develop the kind of faith Kimberly had.

"IF we're married," he reminded her, refocusing on the task at hand. "Have you spoken to your parents?" He had been nudging her to hint to her parents that there was something between them, so it wouldn't come as a complete shock when they announced they were in love.

"No, they just know you're meeting us at church and coming over for lunch. They know I've been trying to get Brooke to come to church. The fact that you're coming, too, when you're still so small, ought to impress them."

He sighed. It was a weird feeling, being in this position again at his age, trying to curry favor with the parents of the woman he loved. Just thinking about it gave him the willies. "I hope so."

"I thought of a way we can tell them," she said.

"How?" He was all ears.

"We divide and conquer. You talk to my dad, I'll talk to my mom. Separately. While Brooke distracts Brandon."

Andy considered her proposal. It seemed more tactful than gathering everyone in one room and dropping the news in their laps. It also seemed he would get the easier job of the two. He suspected Roy would react better than Trina.

"You don't like it?" she said doubtfully.

"No, I do. I just… I'm realizing now that we're not going to come away with a definitive answer from your parents tomorrow. The best we can hope for is that they won't be upset. They're going to want to observe us together before they're sure of our intentions. That could take months."

"I know," she said soberly. "Do you think you can wait that long?"

The irony wasn't lost on him. Two Fridays ago he wasn't ready to go public with their relationship, and he had asked Kimberly to wait for him. Now that he was ready to start his new life with her, HE was being asked to wait for her parents' approval.

He gritted his teeth. "I'll wait as long as I have to."

They sat listening to each other breathe for a minute. The prospect of not being constantly in each other's presence for an extended period of time was daunting, and cast a pall over what should be a joyous occasion. But at least they could still talk on the phone.

"Are you alone in your room?" he asked.

"Of course."

"What are you wearing?"

She lowered her voice. "Panties and a tank top."

He closed his eyes and envisioned her lying on her stomach on her bed, bronzed legs kicking the air, tank top bunched at her hips, panties clinging to her succulent butt. His hand started to slide over his prick.

"What color are your panties?"

The families met outside the church auditorium, in the foyer. Andy sat on Brooke's shoulder, where his presence was more discreet and she had the use of both hands.

Kimberly was on the lookout for them and spotted them first. Her eyes met his briefly before she hugged her best friend, their heads touching over Brooke's other shoulder. They separated and greetings went around. Roy, who had seen Andy at a foot tall, was more impressed by Brooke's recent physical development, and did a poor job of hiding it. Trina appeared just as flummoxed greeting the doll-sized adult man who was riding his daughter like an amusement park ride.

It didn't get any less awkward as Brooke cought Brandon by the arm and pulled him into her, crushing his head against her full, firm breasts, which were much too obvious in her purple dress. Roy looked at his feet and scratched his balding pate to avoid staring.

"Lemme go, Brooke! Gross," the 12 year-old boy said, pushing himself away. He was undersized for his age and had yet to develop a man's fascination of the female form. "Hi, Mr. Speed."

"Hello, Brandon."

"Can I hold him, Brooke?" he asked.

"No, Brandon," Trina said. She looked around, as if she was embarrassed to be seen with the extravagantly busty teen and her 8 inch-tall father. Roy was turning towards the auditorium, trying to lead them inside.

"It's okay, just don't squeeze too hard," Andy said, trying to inject some levity into the situation. He wanted to be this kid's brother-in-law, so it wouldn't hurt to get on his good side, either.

Brooke pulled back her hair and bent at the knees. Brandon snatched him off her shoulder.

Trina shuddered. "Gently, Brandon."

"He's okay, see?" he said, showing Andy to her. Andy sat down and dangled his legs between Brandon's fingers, which were as wide as his thighs.

They walked into the auditorium, greeting people as they made their way towards their regular pew. Nobody paid attention to Andy, if they noticed him at all. Brandon sat between Trina and Kimberly, with Roy and Brooke sitting on the ends.

Andy stood up in Brandon's palm to see over the back of the pew in front of them. He smiled at Kimberly, and she smiled lovingly back. It had been 3.5 days since they'd seen each other, and they'd yet to say a proper hello. She held her hand with her wrist limp like she was the Queen of England receiving a visitor. He kissed fondly the painted blue nail of her middle finger, which he wouldn't have dreamed of doing in public before today.

"He's as small as your hand, Kim," Brandon whispered.

"You should have seen me a week ago. I was shorter than your sister's thumb," Andy said.

"Small enough to eat," Kimberly added with a wink.

Brandon compared the thumb on his other hand to Andy's present size. "Whoa."

The service started a minute later. After a few songs the communion bread and wine was passed out. The collection was taken up, then a few more songs, and then the sermon. It was mostly about the Book of James, but the preaching minister spent time in Colossians and Galatians, too. Brooke listened attentively and flipped the pages of Kimberly's Bible to find the verses the minister was citing.

After the service ended, the families moved in the general direction of their cars. "I have to take my dad now," Brooke said as they emerged into the summer sun.

"Can't he ride with us?" Brandon pleaded.

"He needs to ride in his car seat."

The boy wasn't about to let his new toy be taken from him so easily. "Mom, can I ride in their car?"

Trina looked at Brooke, who nodded. "Go ahead," she relented.

"Yes!" He closed his fist around Andy and skipped after Brooke across the parking lot.

Lunch was waiting for them in the oven, warm and ready to eat, when they got to the house. Andy devised to sit across the dining table from Kimberly so they could communicate via facial expression if necessary. He sat on the table between Brooke and Brandon, and ate off a saucer that held a square of lasagna that could have fed a tribe of people his size.

After Roy led everyone in prayer, they dug in. Brooke immediately steered the conversation towards the sermon they just heard. Roy and Kimberly batted her questions back and forth, with Trina occasionally entering the fray. Most of the talk went over Andy's head. He listened, but only for an opening to bring up Kimberly. From that point, he figured, it shouldn't be difficult to transition to speaking about his strong feelings for her. Before that, though, he had to get Roy one on one. Somehow. Connecting all these dots on the fly was proving itself to be the mental chore he dreaded. But it was necessary, because he didn't have the nerve to cut to the chase, not with the stakes this high.

Trina connected the first dot for him. "So, James is laying out what the Christian life looks like AFTER you accept Jesus?" Brooke was asking.

Roy responded: "Right. What he's describing isn't the legalism Paul condemns. They're really saying the same thing. James discusses works not as a means to salvation, but the fruit of salvation."

"It's like how Kim sacrificed a good portion of her summer to stay with your dad," Trina said, providing a tangible example. "She was baptized when she was 11, so there's no advantage to her to do something like that. It's not going help her score points with God. It's selfless. That's the kind of selflessness James says to treat widows and orphans with."

"Momma," Kimberly said, blushing.

Andy seized the opportunity. "Don't be so modest, Kim. You're the most selfless, terrific young woman I know. You came to us in our time of need. You've inspired me and Brooke to be better people."

Brooke smirked, and Kimberly glowed from his praise. All eyes at the table except Brandon's were on Roy and Trina's faces, trying to read their expressions.

Roy sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his mouth. Trina nodded and continued addressing Brooke's question.

"God freely gave His Son, and we're called to freely give to others, not out of obligation, but out of love. That's what James is writing about," she said. She looked at Roy to back her up, but he appeared lost in thought, his eyes settled on a point in space. "Right, Roy?"

He snapped out of it. "Yeah, yeah." He took her hand in his. "I couldn't say it any better." He looked at Brooke. "It's exciting to hear your passion about the scriptures. I wasn't exposed to all this until I met Trina, and I wanted to learn as much as I could, as fast as I could. The promises of God are too important to be uneducated or lukewarm about. You're welcome to come to church with us any time you want. You, too, Andrew."

"I will," Andy said, meaning it.

Brooke hunched her shoulders. "I'm going to college at the end of the month, so…"

"Well, whenever you're in town." He balled up his napkin and dropped it over his empty plate. Lunch was over.

"Brandon," Brooke said, remembering her part, "I heard you're into roller skating."

The boy made a face. "It's roller BLADING."

"Well, I brought my skates with me. Want to take a spin around the neighborhood?"

"Sure! Can Mr. Speed come, too?"

"No. Skating can be kinda violent. I don't want him to get squished."

"Yeah, that would put a damper on things," Andy snarked.

"You're going skating dressed like that?" Trina said, referring to Brooke's borderline dress.

"I brought a change of clothes," she replied, following Brandon out to the garage.

"Go slow, she's a little rusty," Andy called out.

Brooke looked over her shoulder at him. Do it, she mouthed.

"I'll help you clean up, Momma," Kimberly said when her friend and brother were gone.

"Thanks, Kim." She shared a bewildered look with Roy. They had the distinct feeling they were being set up, like they were unwitting players following someone else's script.

The women started clearing off the table. Kimberly picked up Andy's saucer, which held his virtually untouched lasagna. "You better get off the table, Mr. Speed, before I clear you off with the dirty dishes."

"Yes, ma'am." He limped to the edge of the table and jumped down to the empty seat next to Roy. Second dot connected.

"What happened to your leg?" Roy asked.

"Stress fracture, I think. Lost a battle with a bar of soap." A noble lie if there ever was one.

"Let's move to the living room," Roy suggested. He offered his palm, as he'd seen Brooke and Brandon do. Andy spared his would-be father-in-law the trouble and jumped to the floor. He walked ahead of him to the living room sofa, which was a cinch to climb.

Roy settled into his easy chair. "You seem pretty comfortable at this size, Andrew."

He sat in the middle of the couch cushion with his legs splayed out. "Thanks. It hasn't been that bad, all things considered."

"You mean, considering Alecia." It was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah." Andy glanced at the kitchen, where Kimberly and Trina were cleaning. The noise of dishes and glasses clinking and water running obscured their conversation.

"Looks like you left an impression on Mr. Speed," Trina was saying.

"He left an impression on me, too."

"How so?"

Kimberly put a clean dish in the cabinet. "When a person gets that small, that helpless, they can't hide anything from you. They depend on you for everything. You see what makes them tick."

"Did you see what makes Mr. Speed tick?"

Kimberly nodded. "Actually, I call him Andy now."

Meanwhile, in the living room: "You may not want to hear this now, Andrew, but some good can come of this. Brooke seems to be tackling the serious questions of life. And I see you taking an interest as well. Pain can be unbearable, but it can lead you to the eternal things that really matter."

"I agree. Some good has already come of it," Andy said.

"Like what, if you don't mind me asking?"

He drew a deep breath. "Like your daughter, Kim." Third dot connected. Things were moving fast. There was no turning back now.

Roy shifted uncomfortably. "What about her?"

"I love her."

"So you two got pretty close," Trina surmised. "I guess that's normal."

"No, Momma, it's not normal," Kimberly replied, taking her mother's soapy hand in her own. "I've never felt this way about a boy before."

Trina blinked. "He's not a boy, Kim. He's a 40 year-old man."

"Age is just a number."

"People say that, Kim, but—"

"But it's true, Momma. Our age differences, our size differences, I don't notice them. Neither does he."

Trina hissed, "What are you saying, that you're in LOVE with him?"

She jutted out her pretty chin. "I am, and so is he. In love with me, I mean. He's telling Dad now."

Trina glanced at the living room, where her husband's body had gone very still.

"I love her, too," Roy said cautiously.

"Not like I do," Andy replied. "It hit me about 2 weeks ago. I was in a dark place that I couldn't climb out of—that I didn't want to climb out of. Kimberly saved me. She saved my life. You have an amazing daughter, Roy. She would make the man she marries the happiest man in the world. There's nothing he wouldn't lack with a wife like her."

Roy tapped his hands on his knees, eyes affixed to the floor, listening. "What are you saying, Andrew?"

"I'm saying I know who I want to spend the rest of my life with."

The wheels turned behind those hooded eyelids. His next words were clipped, biting back on anger. "My 18 year-old daughter stays in your house while she's working at that… restaurant. She comes home, tells us she made a mistake. Credits you with helping her get her thinking straight. Then she goes to live in your house to help you while you're sick. And today you tell me that you want to marry her. How do you think that looks?"

"She feels the same way as I do."

Roy's lip curled into a snarl, defending his daughter. "She does? So after all that she did for you, you thank her by taking advantage of her teenage emotions?"

Andy should have been afraid, but he wasn't. He was at peace, so assured of his purpose he was. He spread his hands in front of him, a gesture of supplication. "If I really wanted to take advantage of her, would I come before you like this and make a fool of myself?"

Trina looked at her young daughter. "Kim, please tell me this is a ruse."

"I'm serious, Momma. Do you know why I came home this last time? It's because Andy asked to marry me. I told him yes."

"Oh!" Trina held the kitchen counter to steady herself. Kimberly rubbed her back between the shoulder blades.

"I couldn't live in the same house as the man I'm engaged to," she explained softly.

Trina's face looked like she'd eaten something sour. "How could you make that promise, Kim, to a man you hardly know, to a widower?!"

"Because I love him, Momma. When I'm with him, I feel cherished. I feel God's fullness, like there's no limit to the love that I can give him."

"You're too young. You don't know the meaning of what you're saying. This could be a phase you're going through. The Florence Nightingale Syndrome."

Kimberly was prepared for this objection. "If that's the case, then we'll fall out of love when he gets his height back. And our lives will take separate tracks."

Andy could hear Trina's voice rising and falling in the kitchen. She wasn't screaming, which was good. He plunged ahead.

"I know what a shock this comes as, Roy. It came as a shock to me, too. When something this good comes along, you don't shy away because of a little contact. You take it. I know one conversation with me isn't going to convince you that this is for real. I'm prepared to wait. I'll answer any question you ask me. I'll jump through whatever hoops you want me to jump through."

Roy pursed his lips. He looked at his wife in the kitchen. She looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown. Kimberly must have told her the same thing Andy had been telling him. They planned this! he thought, scandalized.

"Tell me this first, Andrew. Did you sleep with her?"

"We've been intimate, but we haven't had sex."

Roy didn't look happy with his answer, but it was important to be honest and trust that the depth of his and Kimberly's love would ultimately win him over.

"I think you better leave. I need to talk to my family."

"Yes, sir." Without hesitation Andy jumped down from the couch. He walked across the living room, partly dragging his left leg behind him, and headed out of the house through the garage.

"Bye Kim, bye Trina. Thank you for lunch," he said on his way past the kitchen. He felt Trina's hard stare on his back. A rough afternoon was in store for Kimberly. It was very hard knowing that, and being unable to help her through it.

He walked out onto the hot, concrete driveway. He spotted Brooke down the block, stumbling after Brandon in her old, worn-out roller skates that she hadn't used in 3 years.

"Let's go home," he yelled when she got closer. He jumped out of the way when she tried to stop and ended up falling on her butt on the sidewalk.

"How did it go?" she asked, bending her legs to untie her skates.

"I don't know."

"You told them, right?"

"Of course."

Brandon glided up next to them. "Hey, where you going? We just got started!"

"Sorry, Brandon. We have to go. Hopefully I'll get to see you soon, Brandon," Andy said.

"What do you mean?"

He looked at the house. Somewhere inside, Kimberly was being interrogated by her parents. "You'll find out."

Brooke picked him up and strapped him into the car seat. She ruffled Brandon's hair. "See you later, bro."

And they drove away, unsure whether they would ever be coming back.

The house phone rang around mid-morning. Brooke raced to answer it. "It's for you, Dad." She put the handset next to him.

"Hello?" Andy said.

"Hi, Andrew. It's Roy." He sounded upbeat.

"Hello," Andy said again, in a cold sweat. Moment of truth.

"My class ends at 1. How would you and Brooke like to come out to the campus and meet me for lunch?"

"We'd love to." He didn't need to ask Brooke.

"Meet me at the faculty parking lot behind the quad. I'll have a parking pass for you." He hung up.

"What's going on?" Brooke asked.

"We're meeting him at the college for lunch," Andy said. It could only mean one thing: He still had a chance of marrying Kimberly. He couldn't believe it.

Brooke could. She raised her hands over her head and screamed with glee.

Kimberly, Roy, and Trina arrived at the Speed house bearing food and gifts. The occasion was Andy's 41st birthday. One guest hadn't arrived yet, which was fine because Roy and Trina wanted some private time with Andy before the party started.

Standing on the arm of the couch, he hugged each of them as they walked in. He held Kimberly a touch longer than was noticeable to inhale her sweet perfume and nuzzle her buxom chest, her parents none the wiser; by rote, they gave the toddler-sized man the benefit of the doubt.

They had gone on half a dozen "dates"—some chaperoned, some not—over the last 4 weeks. He attended regular family functions like church on Sundays and Wednesdays, and was their guest for dinner on Thursdays. She was allowed to call him whenever she liked, but it was usually no more than twice a day and 15 minutes at a time.

Every day Andy was getting a little taller and a little stronger. Normal activities were coming back to him. He could use the bathroom and shower on his own. He could feed himself on his own. It wouldn't be long before he would be able to return to work and drive a car again. He was wearing normal clothes now, albeit clothes designed for 3 year-old boys. Long gone were the plain, ill-fitting shrinking fatigues that came in inch-tall increments.

On his last visit to the doctor, they took an X-ray and found a fracture in his left fibula that had healed incorrectly. His limp was permanent, an ever-present reminder of what breasts like Kimberly's could do to a shrunken man if he got too careless.

Brooke took the food and gifts and put them on the dining table with the cake she had baked (with practice, she was turning into a decent cook), while Roy and Trina stepped out the back door to talk to Andy alone. They walked to the far side of the pool to stand in the shade under the trees.

"We have a special gift that we didn't want you to open with the others," Trina said. She reached into her skirt pocket and handed him a small, felt-covered jewelry box.

Andy accepted it from her, looking questioningly from her to Roy.

"Open it," Roy urged.

He flipped the lid of the jewelry box open. Inside was a diamond engagement ring on a white gold band. The stone was cut in the shape of a heart. His mouth fell open.

"It was my grandmother's engagement ring," Trina explained. "She wanted Kimberly to have it."

"Does this mean…?"

"Yes," Roy said, smiling down at him. "I'm sorry we doubted you, Andrew, but your relationship came as a shock to us. We had no idea all this was going on while you were shrinking. I was concerned about Kim acting impulsively around you, based on the issues she came forward with earlier this summer, but that you would return her affections never crossed my mind. And, frankly, the age difference, more than the size difference, made me suspicious. But now that I've gotten to know you better and I've seen you two together, I believe it."

"WE believe it," Trina corrected, putting her arm around her husband's waist.

"Welcome to the family."

Andy took the ring out of the box. The clear, heart-shaped diamond reflected the tree leaves and the clouds in the sky. He slid it over his ring finger. It was only a little loose.

"It's already fitted for Kim," Trina said.

Andy's hand closed around the engagement ring. Heart thumping rapidly, he raised his eyes to his future in-laws.

"May I—"

"Yes! What are you waiting for? Go get her!" Trina said mirthfully.

The proud parents watched Andy turn and run into the house to officially propose to his fiancé.

During the commotion going on inside, a middle-aged woman parked her car on the street, strode up the walkway to the front door, and rang the doorbell.

Brooke broke off from the others to answer the door. "Can I help you?" she asked the stranger.

The woman held up her hand. "I'm Catherine, with All Sizes Home Care. I'm here to drop a visitor off for the night."

Brooke looked down at the 3-inch tall man standing in the woman's palm. She had to look closely to tell who it was. "Hello, Mr. Briggs!" she bellowed to the tiny figure.

Paul cowered as the girl's powerful voice rang in his ears like a jet taking off from an aircraft carrier. Who was this vixen standing in the doorway? She obviously knew him. Why didn't he remember her? She was obviously worth remembering.

She recognized the confusion on his face. "Don't you remember, Mr. Briggs? It's me, Brooke Speed."

"Brooke?" Paul said, his voice amplified. There's no way this is Brooke, he thought. He had met Brooke a grand total of three times since he got to know Andy. She was a scrawny kid, with bee stings for breasts. Not anymore, appsarently. Nothing could have prepared him for the foxy babe who stood before him now. She looked like Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad, but with a bigger rack and minus the hideous makeup.

"In the flesh," she chimed. And what flesh! The blonde bombshell wore a sleeveless, light-gray blouse that hung loosely over her narrow waist, and a pair of cut-off jeans that showed off her long, silky legs.

Catherine handed Brooke an overnight bag and a wrapped present.

"For me?" she said, batting her eyelashes coquettishly.

"His clothes and everything he needs for the next 12 hours are in here," Catherine said, ignoring the flirty teen. "His shrinking pace is 1.4 inches per day, so he could reach his minimum while he's with you."

"How small is he projected to get?" Brooke asked breathily. The opportunity to spend time with a shrunken man who wasn't her dad reignited her yearning for a tiny man of her own. All the things she wanted to do to Andy but couldn't reoccurred to her knowledgable but inexperienced mind.

"One to 2.5 inches, based on the recent numbers from the specialist," Catherine answered. "He just woke up from a nap, so he shouldn't require sleep for at least a few hours."

"Aww, did Mr. Briggs have a good nap?" she cooed, as if talking to a baby.

Catherine's eyebrow ticked up. She handed Brooke a form. "I can't release him to you until you sign here twice. I also need your verbal consent, Mr. Briggs."

"I consent," he said.

After Brooke signed the form, Paul walked off Catherine's hand onto hers.

"Someone from the agency will be along to pick you up between 7 and 8 in the morning."

"Thank you." He watched Catherine drop the form into her shoulder bag and walk back to her car.

"What a stiff," Brooke snorted.

"She's okay," Paul said. "She's a professional. She cares for little guys for a living."

"Does she watch you all the time?"

"Only from breakfast til dinner. She alternates days with another woman, Marybeth. That's who's picking me up tomorrow."

Brooke stepped inside and shut the door. "It must drive you crazy, being around such big women who treat you as nothing more than a paycheck."

Paul disagreed, as he didn't find either woman all that attractive and didn't expect them to be.

"Nevertheless, we'll treat you better here. I promise."

She emphasized the point by holding her hand under the shelf of her imposing bust. Her mammoth dimensions filled his vision. He could hear the gray blouse stretching as her enormous breasts wobbled with each step she took.

"Oh, there you are!" she teased, bringing her palm out in front of her so she could see him. Paul chuckled light-heartedly, but he was clearly flustered.

She set his gift on the dining table with the others and took him to the unused room off the kitchen. She set him on an ottoman that rose to below her knees and stood before him, probably closer than was necessary, forcing him to look over her distended blouse.

"My dad and Kimberly just got engaged."

"That's great!" he exclaimed.

She regarded him suspiciously. "You don't seem that surprised."

"I saw them at the funeral and again in public about a month ago. It didn't seem that far-fetched that they would end up together."

She put a finger to her pink, pouty lips. "So you're not jealous?"

Paul played it cool. "Of Andy? No. Kim and I went on one date. We were hardly a thing."

"I see. And how are your testicles doing?"

"My… What?"

"Your testicles. Kim told me what happened on your date, how she kicked you in the nuts. It must've hurt. She's an athlete, you know, soccer and volleyball. She has very strong legs."

"Yes, I remember. They're fine," Paul said, blushing. He had missed a day of work to nurse his injured balls, and he didn't masturbate for over a week. But when he did, he thought of Kimberly.

"Did she tell you… everything about our date?" he asked.

"Well, yeah. She's my best friend. Personally, I think she mistreated you."

"You do?"

"Of course. You're a guy. You can't be expected to control yourself around a total babe like her, in that type of situation."

"So you're not angry about what I did?"

Brooke sighed. "Mr. Briggs, one thing I am not is like Kim. She's very reserved. So you felt her up a little. For most girls on a first date, if they like the guy, that's no big deal. Heck, if it was me and a cute guy like you tried to touch my boobs, I'd say, 'Go ahead. I don't mind. They're meant to be enjoyed.'"

She jutted out her firm chest, which was pleasantly disproportionate to her thin, hourglass figure. He took a long, wanton look at her bosom before lifting his gaze back to her big, green eyes.

"But that's not how Kim is," she continued. "She took it the wrong way and you paid the price, didn't you?"

Paul was nonplussed. Brooke evidently hadn't heard the full story from her friend, how Andy interfered on their date and Paul lashed out at him in anger.

"I guess it wasn't meant to be," he said with a shrug.

She nodded, as if in agreement. "If it was me, I would only kick a guy down there if he hit me or one of my friends. Now, my legs aren't as strong as Kim's, but they're skinny. They can fit into tight places, like the space between a guy's legs where his testicles go up and hide when he's cold. If he hit me or one of my friends, there's no place his little balls could hide."

She bent her knee and thrust her shapely, shipping container-size thigh into the air, simulating the castration she apparently had planned for the first man who crossed her.

Paul gulped. It wasn't difficult to imagine himself on the receiving end of Brooke's righteous, ball-crushing knee, what with the trauma of Kimberly's kicks still vivid in his mind, and considering what he did to deserve them. This girl was out of her mind, though. If she found out the truth about what happened on his date with Kimberly now, a kick in the balls was the least of his worries. She could murder him with a flick of her wrist. Or any other appendage.

She rambled on, delighting in making him squirm. "Anyway, I'm glad your testicles still work after the beating they took. It's funny how a man can be so big and strong, and yet his very essence as a man is so tiny and vulnerable." She looked at him quizzically. "You don't mind me talking about this, do you?"

"Um…"

"I can see I'm making you uncomfortable. You really are a gentleman, Mr. Briggs, despite what happened between you and Kim. I just wanted to say, if your nuts start to hurt again, or you want to test them on something more interesting than your fist, don't hesitate to ask for my assistance."

She walked away, her butt sashaying in her cut-off jeans. Did he hear her right? She wanted to help him "test" his testicles' functionality? No one offered to help you come and meant it at face value. He'd only been given the green light like this once in his life, and he had to butter up the girl for months. Brooke basically propositioned him as soon as he came through the door.

It was out of the question, of course. He was only 3 inches tall. But holy cow, what a body on her, so tight, with such juicy tits, and only 18 years old! he thought. The freckles brought out her youth, while the rest of her screamed maturity. Sure, she was Andy's daughter, but what did that mean to him? He bet she was a freak in the sack. He imagined all the fun he could have with her if he was full-sized. Then he imagined all the fun he could have with her at his current size.

Oh, yeah, he thought, recalling the sight from the grocery store, of Andy as a small bump on Kimberly's huge breast. This archetypal image had risen to the top of his mental stock, and was usually the last one to pop into his mind, before he jerked himself off to completion. That could be me, but with Brooke, he thought. She wasn't that much smaller than Kimberly, now that he thought about it.

He adjusted his miniature trousers to disguise his hard-on. That's when he spotted a figure just outside the room, watching him. It was Kimberly, wearing an engagement ring on her left hand. She'd heard their whole conversation, and there was a cold, expressionless look on her face.

Paul waved. She said nothing and disappeared down the hallway.

Paul jumped down from the ottoman and ran after her. "Kim, wait!"

It took him quite a few strides to advance across the room. He rounded the corner and almost ran into Kimberly's giant, sandaled foot. His eyes traveled up her body to her concerned face.

"I don't know what you're up to, Paul, but if I were you, I wouldn't let it go any further than this," she said imperiously.

Paul shrugged. "What on earth are you talking about? I was gonna tell you congratulations."

"Don't change the subject. I'm talking about Brooke. You should stay away from her." She pointedly did not pick him up or stoop to his height. She spoke to him from on high. This was a command, not a request.

He looked down at himself. "Kim, seriously, what does Brooke have to fear from me?"

"I wasn't thinking of her welfare. I was thinking of yours."

He scoffed, his male ego unable to admit to a girl that another girl posed a threat him. "Don't you think you're being a teensy bit hypocritical, Kim?" he countered.

She folded her arms over her expansive chest. "How so?"

"You're hooking up with an older man. Why shouldn't your stepdaughter be allowed to do so?"

"Because she's different than me."

"In some ways, yes. In other ways—" He stretched his upper body suggestively. "—you and her are quite alike."

She bristled. She felt betrayed. "I thought you had matured past this. I thought you were making strides."

"I don't know what you think you heard me say, but I will never stop being attracted to women."

She pointed her finger at him. "I'm warning you, Paul. Don't let her get to you." She turned on her heel and strode into the kitchen, the floor trembling with her footsteps.

Before Paul could process this strange encounter, Brooke returned from the other direction with hurried steps, her 130 foot-tall body moving astonishingly swiftly. "There you are! I'm sorry I left you, Mr. Briggs."

Her bare feet stopped on either side of him, giving him an unobstructed view of her crotch. Her long, lean legs formed a vaulted ceiling high above him, topped by her skimpy jean shorts that ended just under the modest curve of her butt cheeks. She bent at the waist until her V-shaped torso was parallel to the floor, her long, dirty blond hair hanging down.

"Whatchya looking at?" she said in a sing-song voice.

"Just getting used to my new surroundings."

She held the pose as she studied him like a prize behind the ticket redemption counter at Chuck E. Cheese. "And what do you think?"

"Looking better every minute," he said, turning up the charm.

She swung her arm down and plucked him off the carpet. She held him in front of her pixyish face, thumb and forefinger firmly squeezing his chest. He hung in the air above her neckline, which was cut low enough to show a couple of inches of cleavage from his angle, enough to gobble him up.

"That's because you're shrinking, Mr. Briggs. Everything looks bigger to you than it did a minute ago. This house and everything in it, for example. The ottoman, the carpet, even me." Her other hand glided deliberately up the side of her body and over her throat. "And you know what they say: Bigger is better."

Paul's tiny boner saluted her. Brooke was bigger than big. If bigger was better, then she was the best, or close to it. She could give Kimberly a run for her money. Part of it was because of her pornstar-quality looks, but most of it was due to her kinky personality.

She pulled him in closer. For a second he thought she was going to kiss him. He stuggled against her iron grip as her pouty lips approached, but her mouth and chin moved up and to the side. She deposited him on her shoulder, on top of the collar of her blouse where her bra strap ran underneath.

She turned her head, almost knocking him down. "You stay there, Mr. Briggs. I'm going to need to use my hands to cut my dad's birthday cake."

He steadied himself by holding onto her hair. He leaned forward, trying peer down her blouse and glimpse her full mounds in motion as she walked into the kitchen. The other guests were standing around the dining table. He assumed a relaxed, unassuming demeanor.

Kimberly's blue eyes smoldered when she saw him. Now that she was off the market, there was something about her that he hadn't noticed before. He couldn't name it, but it was a turnoff.

"Look who's here, Daddy," Brooke said.

Andy, who's eyes barely cleared the table, spotted his friend on his daughter's shoulder. "Paul! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm easy to miss," he cracked.

"I mean, I didn't hear you come in," Andy clarified. "Well, I'm glad you made it. Roy, Trina, this is my coworker and best pal, Paul. Paul, these are Kimberly's parents—"

"Roy and Trina, got it. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you as well," Trina said. Roy said nothing. He was trying to look at something else. The sight of a 3-inch man juxtaposed to Brooke's large, perky breasts was too much for him.

Brooke lit the candles on the cake, and Kimberly turned out the lights. After they sang "Happy Birthday," Andy blew out the candles. Everyone started serving themselves. Roy and Trina had brought pot roast and green beans. Kimberly had made bacon-wrapped asparagus.

"Don't fall," Brooke whispered to Paul, as she leaned over the landscape of food and started cutting the cake. Her advice was redundant. He didn't need to be warned to not become part of someone's meal.

After she made her plate, she sat at the table and commenced eating. She took a bite of pot roast and pulled a string of meat off her fork. She gave it to Paul. "Eat up."

He devoured the meat, as he was pretty hungry, and licked his fingers clean. Nothing, however, compared to his appetite for Brooke's massive body. He walked along her thin, round shoulder to her neck and ran his hand over her skin, fascinated by the contrast between her dimplish pores and smooth, light brown freckles. Her jaws worked powerfully as she chewed, pulverizing more mass than constituted his whole body. Above him, a white earring stud glinted in her ear lobe. Below, her chest sloped over the table toward her flying saucer-sized dinner plate piled with food. A slim girl like Brooke shouldn't be able to consume such quantities, but everybody's plate looked like that.

"Why don't you open your presents now," Kimberly suggested.

"Okay," Andy said. "I'll open yours first."

Paul ignored the proceedings, and it was safe to say the rest of the party ignored him. He had bigger things on his mind, anyway. Two bigger things, to be exact. Looking down Brooke's chest, the opening to her spacious cleavage was like a black hole, from which nothing, not even light, could escape. He was a smidgen under 3 inches tall now and could easily lose himself between her heavenly orbs. How much bigger they would be if he shrank to 2 inches tall, or 1 inch tall, or 1 centimeter tall. He found himself wishing that the shrinking specialist's estimate was wrong, that he would continue to shrink until tits such as these could truly become like worlds to him.

Letting go of her hair, he ventured farther and farther out from the safety of her shoulder to get a better view down her blouse. He could make out the edge of a sexy, black bra pressed against her pale flesh.

"A Jerry Garcia tie! Thanks, Kim!" Andy announced, showing everyone atthe table. "I'll wear this on my first day back to work."

"Open mine next, Daddy," Brooke said. She half-stood and pushed her present towards her father.

It was enough movement to cause Paul to lose his balance. He fell down Brooke's buxom chest, missing sliding down her cleavage by millimeters. Instead he slid on his belly over her taut blouse and ramped off her bust. He somersaulted through the air and landed on his back on a sticky, crispy substance.

Brooke giggled at Paul's frosting-covered form lying on top of her cake. She looked around at the others. They were all watching Andy and didn't notice Paul's predicament. Acting natural, she speared the side of the cake with her fork and lifted the large piece containing Paul to her mouth. Opening wide, she fit the whole piece of cake through her lips.

Paul spat the sweet frosting out of his mouth. He was coated with the stuff and could barely move. He felt the heat rising from the warm cake into his prone body. His world suddenly rocked and he knew he was being raised up. He wiped his eyes in time to see Brooke's pearly whites descending over him. He screamed, but no one heard him. The frosting clogged his ears, rendering the voice amplifier moot.

Brooke held still as she watched her father unwrap his gift, keeping the bite of cake on her warm tongue, letting the frosting liquify and the cake to break apart. She felt Paul moving around. He didn't taste like a shrunken man. He was more like a piece of food that was alive. She swished him around her mouth, cleaning cake and icing off his body with her teeth and tongue, and sucking on his limbs—his arms or legs, she couldn't tell.

"Three tickets to the home game against Wisconsin?" Andy said, looking at her.

Brooke smiled behind her pursed lips. She tilted Paul into her cheek so she could talk. "You and Kim can come visit me that weekend."

"Let me see that." Roy, a bigtime college football fan, took the tickets from Andy and studied them under his glasses. "Second row, 40-yard line. Well done, Brooke."

Brooke inclined her head, deflecting his praise. "Happy birthday, Daddy."

"Thank you, Brooke." He stood up to reach Roy's and Trina's gifts.

Ensuring no one was looking, Brooke pushed Paul to the front of her mouth and pulled him through her lips by his arm. He came out gasping for air, and she set him on the dining table.

Covered in melted white frosting and saliva, and energized with rage, Paul belted out a string of curses at her.

Kimberly noticed his demonstration. He was barely audible over the crinkling of wrapping paper. She had no clue where he'd just been, or what he was saying. "Uh-oh, I think Paul's voice amplifier stopped working."

"Run upstairs and get my old one, will you, Brooke?" Andy responded.

Brooke stood up. "I hope I can remember where I left it."

"I'll help her," Kimberly said, glancing at Paul before heading upstairs, too.

Paul grunted in anger and nibbled on a green bean while the party went on hold until the girls returned.

Roy's birthday present to Andy was a pair of adjustable leather dress shoes, sizes 5 to 10, for when he returned to work, and Trina gave him a study Bible. They visited in the living room for an hour after dinner ended. Talk revolved mostly around Andy and Kimberly's wedding, and Brooke's expectations for her first semester in college. She, Andy, and Kimberly were heading out in the morning to move her into her dorm room. Paul contributed to the conversation occassionally, but for the most part he was the third wheel.

After Kimberly left with her parents, Brooke excused herself to go shower, leaving Andy and Paul alone.

"She's grown up fast," Paul said.

"Too much and too fast," Andy admitted, shaking his head. "And she wants everyone to know it, too."

"She's gonna drive those poor college boys crazy. Are you worried at all?"

"No. She's smart. And she has a stronger will than I gave her credit for. I don't know if it's a new thing, or if I just noticed it lately because of the shrinking. She can handle herself."

He regarded his long-time friend for a minute. "Thanks again for coming, Paul."

"Thank you for inviting me. I haven't had this much adult interaction since I started shrinking."

"The hospice nurses aren't very good company, huh?"

"Let's just say I'd rather have a girl who works at Twin Peaks taking care of my every want." He couldn't keep an edginess from creeping into his voice.

Andy smiled thinly. "We can't all be as lucky."

Paul cleared his throat. It was time to address the elephant in the room. "When I see you and her together, it reminds me of what a jerk I was."

Andy knew what was coming and had already crafted an ice-breaking response. "To be fair, if you hadn't acted like you did, Kim and I probably don't end up together. You did me a favor."

"You say that in hindsight because of all that's happened since then, good and bad. It doesn't excuse what I did."

Andy held up his hand in a stopping motion. "Paul, enough. You're my friend. We all have low moments. I forgive you. Kim forgives you."

"I wish your forgiveness was good enough. But I can't forget that night."

Andy sighed. His and Paul's attitudes toward religion were basically identical until recently. Should he share what he was learning at Kimberly's church, that God can pardon every sin? No. It was still new to him. He wasn't as informed about it as Kimberly, or Brooke, even.

So he changed the subject. "What's the best part of shrinking so far?"

Paul sat up. If he answered honestly, he'd say it was flirting with his nubile daughter. But before tonight, without a doubt it was the solitude that he enjoyed the most.

"I like how it's like being in a different world as everyone else. The freedom of knowing that no one will notice you, and you don't have to meet their expectations."

Andy listened, replaying his experiences in his mind. Paul was right. When you were shrunk, you could do anything you wanted and no one would notice.

"Take tonight, for example," Paul continued. "I bet there were stretches of time where you forgot I was there."

Andy bit his tongue between his lips as he searched his memory. "You're right. I did. Heh, makes me wonder what you were up to that whole time."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Like to know what?" Brooke said, bounding down the stairs and into the living room. Her hair was wet from her shower and cascaded behind her back to her waist. She was wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of bright red booty shorts with the name of her high school band branded across her butt.

"What Paul was doing while we all weren't paying attention to him," Andy said, turning towards his daughter.

Brooke grinned like the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland as she looked askance at him. "What WERE you doing, Mr. Briggs?"

Paul wagged his finger with condescenscion. He was still a tad upset about how she almost ate him. "If I told you, it would ruin what makes the shrinking disease so unique, that must be experienced to be believed."

Andy chuckled. "Paul was just telling me his favorite part about shrinking."

Brooke snorted. A guy's favorite part about shrinking? Duh, that's easy, she thought.

"Your turn, Andy," Paul said. "What was your favorite part about shrinking?"

Andy blushed in front of his daughter. "I'd tell you, but it's for mature audiences only."

Brooke put her hands on her hips. "I'm mature! I'm 18 years old."

"There's more to maturity than your age," Andy intoned loftily.

You know that better than anyone, don't you, Andy? Paul thought reactively.

Brooke sauntered up to him. "Let Mr. Briggs be the judge." She cocked one knee and drew her elbows back to clasp her hands together, conforming her shirt to her perfectly round breasts. "Am I mature?" she asked melodiously.

Paul smirked. She loved it, exhibiting herself with her father just a few feet away, teasing an older man with her young body, tweaking his libido. Like taking a new car out for a spin, she was seeing what her charms could do. It was hard for Paul to stay mad at something so beautiful and so eager to please.

"I'm going to need more evidence before making a determination," he said coolly.

"Ha, I'll show you some evidence." She planted her knee on the couch inches in front of him, denting the cushion. Her white, supple thigh leaned over him like the Tower of Pisa. He watched her, unphased. What was she going to do, strip in front of him with her dad sitting right there?

"Good night, Brooke," Andy said harshly, pre-empting whatever she had in store for him.

She backed off and leaned down to hug her father, butt flexing in those tight, red shorts. "Good night, Daddy."

She returned to Paul and bent way, way down to touch her lips to the top of the head. "Good night, Mr. Briggs."

"Good n-n-night," he stammered, the gaping neck of Brooke's T-shirt acting as a portal through which he could observe the top of her delicious, naked bosom. But the true wonder was what she had surreptitiously hidden between her bulbous swells: a tampon, in its wrapper, almost twice as long as he was tall, and tucked inside her deep cleavage with room to spare. The incredible sight blew a fuse in his head, instantly reversing years of speech therapy to correct a childhood stutter.

She waited a moment to make sure he saw and understood just how big she was, how easily she dwarfed him. And that bigger was always, always better.

"Good night," she said again, and raced back up the stairs.

The waning adrenaline rush left Paul feeling suddenly depleted. He yawned. "I should go to bed, too," he said.

Andy stood up. "Of course. Let me show you the crib." He picked him up in both hands. Paul appeared twice as large to him, since he'd yet to recover roughly half his height. Still, his body was feather-light. So this is what it's like to hold a shrunken man, Andy mused to himself.

He paused mid-stride and sniffed the air above him. "Why do you smell like cake?"

Paul shrugged. "It was really, really good cake."

"Brooke will be glad to hear that. She baked it herself."

Brooke, Paul thought fondly. Everything kept coming back to Brooke.

Tired in body, but not of mind, Paul lay in the crib, staring at the dark ceiling of the guest room. The house was silent. He didn't know what time it was. It could have been 10 o'clock or midnight. He lost all sense of time when he was masturbating, which he had successfully done, twice, since being placed in this ridiculous crib. He didn't know why Andy hadn't let him sleep in the guest bed. No one else was using it.

That's not what he was thinking about, though. He was thinking about going to Brooke's room. Her signals couldn't be clearer. She wanted him. Tonight. But not knowing what would happen when he got there worried him a bit. He had no way of controlling the course of events, not with a girl that much bigger than him, and getting relatively bigger every minute, as she had deftly pointed out before dinner. (His clothes were already starting to hang off his diminishing frame.)

And there was also Kimberly's warning to consider. He believed she was sincere. She really did seem afraid what Brooke could do to him. If she was that dangerous, though, why invite him to the party? Why leave him alone with her? If she was truly demented and evil, why didn't Kimberly act with urgency to protect him? The only explanation he could come up with was that she was acting irrationally, like most women. Most likely she was discombobulated by the potential of Brooke's sexual aggression jeopardizing her treasured alpha female status in her new family. Thus, she saw sabotaging a hook-up between Brooke and himself as essential to maintaining the present family dynamic.

Well, he didn't give a damn about that. He would go to the young maiden's lair and what happened, happened. If she wasn't a murderous temptress, which she wasn't, then the most danger he faced was from himself, from his lack of familiarity being with women at his present size. But he wasn't worried about that at all. He wasn't stupid. He weighed one-fifth of an ounce. He knew his physical limitations.

There was a time in his life when 18 year-old girls terrified him. Now was not that time. They weren't that much more complicated than children. He'd bedded college co-eds well into his 30s based on his operational understanding that he was talking to a child. He could always rely on his wits when dealing with girls like Brooke.

It was settled. He was going.

He crawled out from under the bedsheets and walked to the edge of the crib. He leapt through the bars, plunged through the darkness, and landed easily on his feet on the carpeted floor. One of the "superpowers" that came with shrinking was the ability to fall harmlessly from seemingly incredible heights. This would qualify as his third favorite thing about the shrinking disease, behind solitude and sex (he hoped, fingers crossed).

He walked into the hallway. He hadn't been upstairs in Andy's house often, so he stopped to get his bearings. There were four rooms, not counting the guest room: one to his right, one directly across the hallway, and two to his left. He remembered the bathroom; that was easy, it was the first door on the left after you reached the top of the stairs. The hallway ended at the door to his right. It was probably the master bedroom, Andy's bedroom. That left two rooms to choose from: the one across the hallway, and the one next door to his left.

Door number one, or door number two, he said to himself. He could see a faint glow coming from underneath door number two, so he headed in that direction.

He reached the looming, wood-paneled door, like the sheer face of a 20-story building. He stopped in his tracks. Uh-oh. If she was expecting him, why did she close the door to her bedroom? Maybe she wasn't expecting him after all. What if this whole night she was just toying with him for fun? What if she laughed at him for thinking he had a real shot to be with her? It would be humiliating to be rejected by an 18 year-old girl. He stood in the hallway for a minute, unsure of what to do.

If his instincts were right, he would be rewarded with the best night of his life. If they were wrong, his shame would be acute, but brief. It would make a funny story to tell her friends, and would be forgotten in a week. He saw her rarely enough as it was, she might not get a chance to hold it over his head.

As if it mattered. He couldn't go back to bed on his own anyway. He was committed to this course of action the second he left the crib. There was no turning back.

Welcome to Jurassic Park, he thought. He got on his hands and knees and wormed under the door.

An open, 25 foot-tall cardboard box blocked his view of the room. The word "INTIMATES" was scrawled in black marker on its side, each letter as tall as him. He walked around the corner of the box, the room coming into view. It was simply furnished with a collapsible writing desk, a dresser, and a full-size bed. Pictures of Brooke with her friends and a Johnny Depp poster adorned the walls. A trombone case leaned against one corner. A 40-watt lightbulb burned under a lampshade on the nightstand. The ceiling fan turned slowly. It was warm.

Paul wound his way through a maze of moving boxes and piles of clothes. If Brooke had intentionally made reaching her as adventurous as possible, she could not have done a better job. He couldn't see the sleeping beauty, but he could hear her breathing. When he reached the bed he looked back at the door. He could still abort this mission and no one would know.

"Mmm," he heard her moan softly. Her hand appeared over the edge of the bed, long fingers curled but relaxed. Just a couple of hours ago she held him between her fingers, high off the floor and at arm's length so he could appreciate her scintillating body in its fullness.

Fuck it, he thought. He grabbed a hold of a loose sheet corner and climbed up to the mattress. His knuckles fit through the machine stitching, making for easy climbing.

A minute later he stood on top of Brooke's bed. The bedspread was laid out before him like a half-acre lot, with her majestic form occupying the center, lying atop a mess of bedsheets. She slept on her left side, diagonal to the length of the bed, her elbows tucked in against her chest. Her top, right leg was bent but her lower, left leg stuck straight out.

He walked around her dainty foot and along her left leg towards her butt. She had boasted she had skinny legs, but they looked powerful enough from his vantage point. They were the color of vanilla ice cream, and absolutely hairless. Her scrumptious posterior looked like a world record-holding strawberry in those red booty shorts. She was a 140 foot-long strawberry sundae. Needless to say, he was erect.

The first warning that Brooke was stirring in her sleep was the groan of the mattress springs. Then one by one the letters printed on her booty shorts disappeared underneath her as she started to roll to her right. Thigh muscles rippled under her skin. Paul backed away as the back of her right leg came down where he had just been standing. Hundreds of tons of teenage girl settled into a new arrangement on the bed. She now slept on her back, both legs extended, with her arms folded over her belly.

Dare he? Yes, he dared. He climbed up her booty shorts to the top of her right thigh. The material was slick under his bare feet. He padded cautiously over her narrow crotch and looked up towards her head. Her T-shirt was bunched up in the valley that bisected her buxom chest. Between him and the promised land were her folded arms.

He padded across Brooke's soft, flat belly, his stance wide as he rose and fell with her every breath. A light sheen of sweat covered her fair skin. He paused to admire her cute belly button before continuing on. He climbed over her left wrist, grasping her fine arm hairs for purchase. He slid down the other side and walked over her wrinkled shirt into her cleavage.

Holy shit, I'm standing between her tits, he thought. He slowly turned 360 degrees in wonder of his surroundings. He could make out both her feet sticking up over her hands to the south. To the north were her throat, chin, and seductive lips. He couldn't see the rest of her face. And to his east and west were her firm, bra-less breasts, which while inverted and unsupported still retained their splendid, semispherical shape. He sank to his knees and raised his hands, as if in worship of an idol.

Brooke stirred again. Her arms moved off her belly to her sides, pulling her T-shirt taut over her bust. The material popped up between the highest points of her breasts. Paul launched into the air as if he was attached to a bungee cord. Brooke's lovely face rushed up to meet him as gravity pulled him back to earth.

"Agh!" he screeched, as his knees came down on either side of her nostrils, racking himself on the hard, thin bridge of her nose, sending his balls up into his throat. The shock left him unable to breathe. He clenched his thighs as he slid backwards down her nose until his shins met her cheeks.

Catching his breath, he pushed his chest off Brooke's nose. Not again, he thought with a groan. He lifted his leg over the side of her nose and scooted down her freckled cheek on his butt. He landed on his knees and rolled onto his back, coming to rest on a fan of straw-colored hair.

As he waited for his breathing to return to normal and for the nausea to pass, Brooke's head rolled to the side and her eyelids fluttered open. Her big, curious eyes focused on the 2.75-inch tall man reclined on the pillow next to her face.

"Hello, little one."

"What are you doing in my bedroom?" Brooke asked, voice buttery smooth.

Paul pushed the pain between his legs to the back of his mind. He stood up, with effort.

"I came to see what the hubbub was about. I heard you're the one shrunken men come to to make sure their plumbing still works." The cringeworthy line played well for the teenager. She smirked playfully.

Her head rose off the pillow, yanking her long hair out from under him like rug. He tumbled down to the bunched up sheets, warmed by her body heat.

"You heard right," she said, indifferent to his plight. She rolled out of bed and crossed the minefield of moving boxes in three graceful strides. She opened the door and stuck her head into the dark hallway to make sure there was no light coming from her dad's room. There wasn't.

She shut the door softly and slinked back to bed. She crawled onto the mattress and walked forward on her knees until Paul was directly below her crotch, the dark crease of her pussy showing through her booty shorts.

He held his ground bravely, but her immensity and sexy aura were unnerving. He reminded himself that she was putting on an act, that inside that bodacious body was an insecure little girl seeking his approval. Wits, don't fail me now, he thought.

She sat back on her haunches, giving him a modicum of breathing room. Her meaty thighs surrounded him like a gauntlet, his only escape route directly behind him, through the opening between her knees. But he had no intention of escaping.

"What now, Mr. Briggs?" she asked, holding out the proverbial reins.

He looked up at her striking countenance. "I dunno, it's up to you. I'm just a lowly guest," he said, yielding the reins right back to her.

"Well, I suppose the first thing we need to do is inspect your testicles, make sure Kim's strong legs didn't cause any long-term damage." She leered at him and carressed her silky thighs.

Paul grimaced. Brooke liked bringing up his emasculation for some reason. "I assure you, my testicles work just fine."

"Then demonstrate for me," she replied. "I've never seen a boy ejaculate before. I want to know what it looks like so whatever I do later on, I know I'm doing it right."

He pinched himself. Nope, he wasn't dreaming. He loosened his miniature trousers. "I'm gonna need some motivation."

"What kind of motivation?" She didn't wait for an answer; as soon as she asked, she knew. "Oh, I see." She inched her shirt up her soft, alabaster abdomen, pausing to gather the material under her bust. "I'll show you my boobs, and you'll jerk your little dick for me, is that the deal?"

"I want to see all of you naked," he countered greedily, because why not?

"Aren't my boobs enough?" she asked, flashing her doe eyes at him.

"Fine." Negotiations completed, he let his trousers fall to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. His penis jutted out proudly. "Your turn."

Brooke's head disappeared behind her swollen, 36F breasts. The stretched, white fabric slipped, millimeter by millimeter, over her underboob and pert, pink nipples. Time slowed down for Paul, whose hand involuntarily began stroking his cock. Her half moons waxed gibbous as the shirt, meeting little resistance, was raised off her now bare chest and over her head, and was discarded on the bed next to Paul like a deflated circus tent.

Such a gaudy display of femininity had never been seen before by man. Paul's eyes dilated as endorphins saturated his bloodstream and coursed his arteries. He stumbled backwards into Brooke's smooth, inner left thigh, continuing to work his hard prick in his right hand.

Knowing he was watching closely, she put on a show while he masturbated, lifting and squeezing her juicy melons. "Well," she said huskily, "am I mature, Mr. Briggs?"

"V-very."

"Are you sure you don't need more evidence?"

"N-no."

"Good." She basked in his lustful gaze. He was so small, so bowled over by her beauty. He made her feel all-powerful. "I don't think I'll catch up with Kim's big hooters, but I'm pretty happy with what I have to work with. Aren't you?"

"What?" It was difficult to follow everything she was saying, between ogling her fantastic breasts and trying to make himself come for the third time in as many hours.

"Aren't you happy with what I have?" she repeated.

"Oh, uh, yeah."

"All of this—" She shook her humongous tits; Paul swore they made shockwaves. "—happened in the last 2 months. Did you know that? Some of my friends who haven't seen me all summer think I got implants. I actually thought about getting them done before college. Not too big, of course. D cups, maybe. A respectable size. But I would have had to put buying a car on hold."

"I'm glad you waited."

"Me too! They're bigger than I could have dreamed. I was upset at first at how hard and firm they are, but that just means they'll stay perkier longer. Guys like that, don't they?"

"I do," Paul said. His concentration on her words came at his cock's expense. He regrettably softened.

"I knew you were a breast man, Mr. Briggs. That's why you went to Twin Peaks all those times to spy on my best friend in her sexy uniform. If I had these puppies at the start of the summer, I might have applied to work there, too. I could have bought two cars by the end of the summer from all the tips I made."

Paul believed it. He nodded dumbly.

"It's fate that we should meet at this particular time, don't you think?" she continued. "Here you are, smaller than you've ever been since you were conceived in your mother's womb, and here I am, on the tail end of a late growth spurt, sporting the biggest boobs you've ever seen up close."

She was too cocky for her own good. He decided to take her down a peg. "Well, second biggest," he corrected her.

Her nostrils flared. "Did Kim LOOK this big to you on your date?" As if it was necessary, she dropped her shoulders, propelling her full breasts towards him, stopping a few inches above his head.

He smiled inwardly. Only a child with Brooke's physical gifts would continue to fish for complements. She doesn't like that she's not as busty as Kim, he thought. There was a rivalry there. He filed this information in his memory bank for later use.

"So far, hers are still the biggest I've touched," he pointed out.

She sat up, taken aback by his moxy. "Oh, really?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Yours would easily be the biggest."

"Easily," she echoed, grinning impishly.

He wiped his forelock back, unable to hold back his enjoyment. How cool was this, openly discussing breast size with this horny 18 year-old? And at his scale, too, when everything was thousands of times more massive than usual. He was living a fantasy.

"Earlier you said you wouldn't mind if I touched them," he said.

"That's if we're on a date," she reminded him coyly.

"You've already shown me the goods. If this isn't a date, I'm left to conclude that you're easy."

She gasped in mock umbrage. "Well, a girl has to protect her reputation."

She straightened her legs behind her and lowered herself down onto her forearms. Her breasts floated over him like two Hindenbergs and impacted the bed behind him. Her pink nipples disappeared around her burgeoning swells.

"Enter at your own risk," she said. Her voice sounded far away.

He walked upright under the pale ceiling of her belly towards her shadowy cleavage. The space was narrow, but at no point did he have to duck or turn sideways. She was THAT big.

Once again, he was awestruck by where he was. This time he was standing under her chest, as opposed to standing on top of it. It made him respect her size all the more, knowing she could end his life by simply settling her weight onto the bed.

"Touch them," she purred. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Briggs. I promise I won't mangle your little balls like Kim did."

Why did she keep returning to his least favorite subject? "You couldn't. Your legs aren't that skinny, Brooke," he said.

"Oh, yes I could. There are other ways."

"Fortunately you're not like her."

"I could be, if you wanted me to."

What the hell does that mean? It can't be good, he thought. He put it out of his mind, as more pressing matters commanded his attention. He rested his palm on her unblemished skin. Her breast was solid and unyielding, indicative of its unsurpassed size—or his infinitesimal strength. Both, probably. He could feel it pulse in rhythm with her racing heart, which was working almost as fast and as hard as his.

"Look out!" she cried in a low voice. Paul snapped to attention. He saw Brooke's upside-down face peering through her cleavage. Suddenly a pink log entered the space and came to rest between his legs. It looked about 12 feet long and came up to mid-calf.

He jumped out of the way, then laughed at himself. It was the tampon!

"You looked a little lonely in there, so I gave you someone to play with," she said.

Paul kicked the plastic-wrapped tampon. Geez, if her vagina was this big, he could go spelunking in her underwear. His cock reacquired its hardness.

"Not as lonely as you think. I was just getting aquainted with the twins."

"Ooh, are they treating you nice?" she panted.

"So far."

"Don't make them angry. They can grind little men like you into dust." The words as they left her mouth had a profound effect on her because of the godlike strength they betokened. The power! It was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

She felt something tiny and insignificant banging away at her right breast. "Are you molesting my boobs, Mr. Briggs?"

Paul was thrashing his body against her, as if trying to burrow inside her, like a tick. He had no pithy comeback this time. Brooke's slammin' body was causing his IQ to plunge below room temperature.

"I can't help myself. They're perfect. I love them!"

"Aww, they love you, too." She scooted her elbows forward, allowing her chest to sink a little lower to the bed. Her breasts spread out and closed in on Paul from both sides, grasping his tiny body above the waist. He kicked his feet, which were still in contact with the bed, but no longer supported his weight. Her cleavage had him.

"Brooke, help!"

"It's all right, Mr. Briggs. My twins are returning your love. Isn't that adorable?"

"I can't breathe!"

"Oh dear, maybe you should come out of there, then." She shivered and closed her eyes. Her pussy never felt so empty. She needed to feel something, anything, inside her. But it wasn't time yet. She had to be patient. She had all night to carry out her lascivious plan.

Time was working against Paul. He could breathe fine after all. Not only was he rapidly losing his wits, he was rapidly losing his boner. He'd been at least semi-hard for the last 30 to 40 minutes. It wouldn't be long before blue balls set in.

"Come out of there, little one," Brooke encouraged.

If he was going to get out, he needed to pry these monstrous breasts apart to loosen their grip on him. He pushed at her right breast with all his might. It gave a little, but her left breast made up the difference. A double-team! He tried pushing her breast with one arm while twisting himself down and out of her cleavage, like a cork. It took a herculean effort and a couple of breathers, but he finally fell on his back onto the bed. He arm-crawled through her cleavage into the dim light of Brooke's bedroom.

As soon as he was free, she turned him on his back with her fingers. He could see her billboard-sized face and nothing else.

"I forgot to tell you my boobs like to play rough."

"No harm, no foul," he said. He melted under her steady glare. Her model-esque bone structure and puffy, pornstar lips at this close range was like looking straight into the sun. Damn, she's so—fucking—hot.

"Where'd your erection go, by the way?" she asked, noting his softness.

"I lost it in your breasts," he quipped.

"That's a strange place to lose an erection. Let's see if we can find it."

She flipped her hair forward over her shoulder, dragging her citrus-scented, blond tresses across his body. His sides tickled.

"See it anywhere?" she asked.

"Not yet."

She raised her long leg and turned her body so she faced away from him, her skinny, strawberry booty spanning her heels, with him lying prone between her feet.

She looked over her shoulder and gyrated her hips rapidly. Twerking, the kids called it. Her tight butt shook like it had a mind of its own, the white letters a blur. The bed trembled. She slowed down her movements and grinded her crotch over his legs, smearing him with sweet nectar from her dripping shorts.

"How about now?"

"Getting warmer." Hell, who was he kidding? She had him right where she wanted him.

"I think we found it," she said approvingly. His worn-out penis had come alive. She turned to face him again. She made a jerking motion with her fist. "Keep going, Mr. Briggs."

Paul touched his bright red penis. His arousal was undeniable, but so was the irritation of his overworked member.

She licked her fingers and played with her nipples while she watched him strain to bring himself off. "I was holding a lot back when I had you trapped in my cleavage, Mr. Briggs. Imagine if I wanted to keep you in there forever. Wouldn't that be nice? Of course, there's nothing an itsy bitsy man like you could do to stop it from happening."

He watched her pink bullets grow to the size of traffic cones. Her right breast touched down next to his body and her nipple poked him in the ribs. He reached for it with his free hand, but she retreated. Her left breast snuck up on him from the other side, nipple nudging his shoulder, moving up his neck, and tilting his chin up. Her teasing was incredible, but he wasn't even close to coming. He let go of his penis and yelled in frustration.

She pulled back. "What's the matter?"

"I'm chaffing," he moaned.

"What's that?"

"I need some lube. There's too much friction."

"Oh. Why didn't you say so?" She stuck out her tongue. A globule of saliva descended on a viscous string from the pink, writhing muscle and struck Paul in the chest. He cupped a handful of it and continued to work his member. Her warm spit felt refreshing on his sore shaft.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Does it always take you this long?"

"No. I jerked off in the crib before I came over, so my reserves are a little low," he boasted, pretending his lack of self-control wasn't as pathetic and shameful as it sounded.

"Aww, that's sweet. You couldn't wait until you saw me again, huh?"

That's one way of looking at it, he thought. "Yeah," he said.

"Well, how about this?" With a flick of a finger she knocked his hand off his throbbing penis. "You don't make yourself come anymore. From now on, I make you come."

"Sounds great, Brooke, but we only have—what, 6 hours together? Marybeth is taking me back to my apartment in the morning, and you're leaving town to go to college. How many times can you make me come between now and then?"

Challenge accepted, her expression said. She snatched him from the bed and lifted him, passing him over her crotch and belly and through her cleavage like he was an airship performing low-altitude maneuvers. His journey ended on top of her titanic right breast. On three sides her globe dropped towards the bed. The fourth side rose to meet the flat part of her upper chest, a vertical wall until it slanted back overhead to meet her prominent chin.

She bent her head forward and kissed his tiny body flat against her firm, young flesh. His hard-on sank into her plump bottom lip.

She lifted her head a fraction of an inch. One gorgeous green eye hovered over him. "I'll make you come as many times as I want, Mr. Briggs. Don't underestimate me." She blinked, and her blond eyelash swept over his chest like the bristles of a broom.

He smiled. "You can call me Paul."

"Okay, Mr. Paul," she replied. That's cute, he thought.

She resumed the kiss. He returned it inasmuch as he could. Her lips were twice as wide as his chest. She turned her head side to side, keeping him pinned to her breast with her mouth, but moving his erection into and out of the shallow groove between her lips. He humped her face, using up the last bit of her undried saliva to reach the edge of release. Just a few more seconds…

A knock came at the door. Brooke's head turned towards the noise, abandoning Paul as he thrusted desperately into lips that were no longer there. The door handle started to turn.

"Brooke, can I come in?" said a voice on the other side of the door. It was Andy!

"Just a second, Daddy," she called out.

She grabbed Paul off her breast and held him in her tight fist before her panic-stricken face. "He can't find you in here! It'll ruin everything. You have to hide," she whispered.

He laughed wryly, "So hide me."

She frowned and glanced around the room, trying to find a hiding spot for him. She wanted him out of sight, but also close by, so she could keep track of him. Because she wasn't done with him by a long shot.

The giant girl rolled onto her side and pulled on the elastic waistband of her booty shorts. She dropped him on her right hip, above her butt cheek.

"Make a sound and I'll pinch your little balls off," she said, and let the waistband snap back into place, plunging Paul into darkness.

With Paul stashed in her booty shorts, Brooke pulled her T-shirt on to cover her chest. "Come in," she said.

The door creaked open. Andy, all 3 feet, 2 inches of him, stepped into the bedroom. "Hey, sweetie. Did I wake you?"

"No, Daddy. I can't sleep," she said plaintively. Daddy's precious, little girl. No hijinx going on here.

"I'm sorry." He shut the door, walked over, and sat next to her on the bed, legs dangling over the side. She turned herself around to face him while remaining reclined on her side, mindful that any sudden movements could crush her little quarry.

Her tight shorts weren't tight enough to hold Paul in place on her curvaceous hip. As soon as she moved, he fell off her hip and slid across her tight butt cheek down into the crack between her legs. The sweet, musty scent of her arousal dominated his olfactory senses. The only thing between him and her holy of holies was a triangle of red, patterned lace. Strange sleeping attire, he thought, unless she wore it for him.

Andy winced and reached under his thigh, pulling out the pink, plastic-wrapped tampon. He shrugged and tossed it on the nightstand. Brooke looked down and saw Paul's doll-sized pants on the bedspread. She covered them with her hand and shuffled them under the sheets.

"Crazy day, huh?" Andy said, unaware his friend was in the room with them, let alone stuffed down his daughter's shorts next to her nether regions.

"Yep." The shorter she kept her answers, the sooner he would leave, and the sooner she could resume playing with Paul.

"What do you think, of me and Kim making it official?"

"It's great. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but I asked how YOU felt about it."

Brooke blushed. Andy didn't solicit her opinion on matters often. She forgot about Paul and poured out her emotions. "I'm happy for you, because I know how happy Kim makes you. At the same time, it doesn't feel fair."

He touched her knee. "What do you mean it's not fair?"

"I mean, you're getting back a wife, but I'm not getting back my mom. It's like you've forgotten about her." She sniffled.

"I haven't forgotten, Brooke. Your mother is part of who I am. She's part of who you are. She'll always be my first love. Kim will be my wife, but she can't be who Alecia was. And I don't expect that from her. That wouldn't be fair to her, would it?"

She lowered her face to wipe tears out of her eyes. "I guess not. I thought, with you and Kim, not having Mom would stop hurting."

"It'll hurt less, over time." He put his arm around her. He couldn't reach all the way across her back, but it was the thought that counted. She squeezed him against her large shoulder, and they held each other for a minute.

Balancing on Brooke's left butt cheek, Paul was touched. Andy had a deep relationship with his daughter. He wondered if he could ever be in a relationship as selfless as the one he was witnessing. It wasn't too late for him to settle down and start a family. He was only 36. Up to now, though, girls were too much fun to take seriously. Maybe after I'm done shrinking and things get back to normal, I'll turn over a new leaf, he thought. But not until then. He had unfinished business, starting with Brooke.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Andy asked.

"A little," she said with a shrug.

"College is a big adjustment. It was for me, when I was your age. You have more freedom than you've ever had before. You'll have to manage yourself."

"I know."

"And you know you can call or text me anytime, day or night."

They held each other for a little longer. Andy slid off the edge of the bed to the floor. "Good night, sweetie."

He was just about to close the door when Brooke called out, "Daddy?"

He stuck his head back in. "Yes?"

"Why didn't you tell me you and Mr. Briggs got into a fight?"

She knows? Paul thought, a sinking feeling in his stomach. She's known this whole time?!

"What do you mean?" Andy said.

"You tried to stop Mr. Briggs's and Kim's date, and he beat you up, when you were just 2 feet tall."

Andy stepped back through the door, his forehead crinkling in concern. "How do you know about that? Did Paul tell you?"

"No, it was Kim."

"That bitch!" Paul hissed, seething with anger.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Brooke said innocently.

"I heard something."

"Oh. That was me. I tooted." She forced out a wet, high-pitched fart. "Excuse me."

Paul's eyes and nostrils burned, and he gagged on the smell of rancid eggs. Girls' farts were the worst. Who knew such pretty creatures could give off such offensive odors?

Andy shook his head. Kim, what were you thinking? he thought. "It was a misunderstanding between me and Paul. He apologized, and I forgave him. There's nothing more to it than that."

"Oh, okay."

"I was never in any real danger. We were arguing and he just got careless."

"Mm-hmm." She clenched her butt cheeks, trapping Paul in her creamy flesh, punishing him with her noxious fumes. She felt him struggling mere millimeters from her watering pussy.

Andy looked at her warily. "This is ancient history as far as I'm concerned, sweetie. Don't let this upset you, and please don't bring it up with Mr. Briggs. As a favor to me. Okay?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Get some sleep." He finally left the bedroom. As soon as he was gone, she spread her legs and shook Paul out of the leg hole of her shorts. He slid down his back through a tunnel of bright red nylon, and the pillar of her leg rushed past him before he bounced on the bed next to her knee.

He rolled onto his back and looked up at the saucy teen. She had a scary, determined look in her eye.

"You k-k-knew?" he said, voice trembling.

"Of course. Kim and I tell each other everything." Kimberly actually didn't tell her the whole story until tonight, when they were looking for Andy's voice amplifier. She hoped it would dissuade her from having a liaison with Paul. Brooke was only encouraged, as Paul's secret was just the kind of ammunition she needed to execute her plan.

He crawled backwards, cognizant of what she had told him she would do to a man if he hurt one of her friends or loved ones. Her later references to hitting him in the balls now made sense. This whole night, he thought, from the very beginning, was one long set-up, intended to lure him, entrap him, and unman him.

"I did s-something bad. I've p-paid for it and apologized. Don't make me pay f-f-for it again," he pleaded.

She placed her hands far apart on either side of him. A strand of dirty blond hair fell over her face. "Mr. Paul, what am I going to do with you?" she said, voice soft and menacing.

He stopped crawling. Any attempt to run for it was futile. His best course of action was to beg. He stood up on his knees and held his clenched hands above his head. "P-please don't be m-mad, Brooke."

"I'm not mad, Mr. Paul. Just very, very disappointed."

She moved quickly for a giant, knocking him on his back and spreading his legs with her pointer and middle fingers. She flipped his limp penis onto his pelvis and placed a sharp fingernail, as long as a butcher knife, over the shriveled neck of his scrotum.

"Do you know how lucky you are that I wasn't there when you tried to kill my dad?" She tucked her nail under his shirt and shredded it with a flick of her finger. Her face was too close for comfort, her fierce glare penetrating his soul.

"P-please, Brooke." He was in a cold sweat. He felt like he was on a dissection table.

"Kim let you off easy. Just two kicks to the balls?" She tsked. "Kim's always been a bit of an underachiever."

"Not really. She does have bigger breasts than you," he gibed, trying to lighten the mood and gain back some hand.

"Quiet," she commanded. So far she'd let him think he had control. Not anymore. She lifted her glossy nail over the length of his shaft. Despite himself, he became hard.

"Oh, God," he moaned.

"Yes, little one?" His fear turned her on. In the Bible, to fear God is to love God, and that's the love she felt from Paul, which gave her such a high.

"D-don't do this."

"Don't do what? Kick you in the balls? Don't worry, I won't. My legs aren't skinny enough, like you said. My fingers, though…" She straightened her knuckle, flicking her long pointer finger at his groin, stopping just short of his testicles.

"Anyth-thing but that," he whimpered.

"Anything?" she echoed. "Are you sure about that, Mr. Paul? There are worse things than losing your balls. I could flush you down the toilet. I could bite your head in two. I could feed you to the neighbor's cat. He's always lurking around in the front yard. I could smother you in my gigantic boobs. Have you already forgotten how your little body got stuck between them?"

She swung her dainty finger, more than his match, over his crotch, threatening him with the emasculation she had promised. This she alternated with edging him with her smooth nail, immersing Paul into a paroxysm of visceral emotions so debilitating, it effectively froze every muscle in his body.

"P-p-please, Brooke. I s-said I was sorry." He was 10 years old again, apologizing to his domineering father for leaving his bike in the driveway behind the family car.

"Do you know how my dad got the hitch in his step?" she continued, mercilessly. "Kim lost him in her blouse and her boobs crushed his leg. Imagine that: boobs that can break your leg. That's how big us little girls are compared to you."

Why isn't he trying to run away? she thought. Could it be he actually enjoys being tormented like this?

"Does that excite you, my little breast man? Does getting close to a pair of jugs that can literally crush you make you hot?"

She removed her shirt and stretched across the bed, sliding her breasts like two dragracing battle tanks on either side of Paul's small body. Her waspish frame popped off the bed and she violently pressed her hefty globes from the sides, resulting in a resounding plop that only he could hear. The displaced air from her collapsing cleavage ruffled his hair. He pictured his frail body disappearing in her bosom, being mashed to a bloody pulp by her abundance. He felt a perverted attraction to meeting his end this way.

Mother of God! Her shapely hips, her narrow waist contrasted with her voluptuous rack, all at such fantastic proportions! No hyperbole would do her justice. She looked even more marvelous topless than she did just a few minutes ago. That's because she was. He was still shrinking, which meant she was still growing. Tomorrow, if he didn't stop shrinking, he'd be one-eighth the man he was now. And the next day, if he didn't stop shrinking, he'd be literally nothing. Gone.

He had arrived at what medical experts called the "asymptote," the point at which the rate of shrinking almost equals the amount of size left in a man. It was well-documented in the rarest of cases, when men shrank to half an inch tall or less. The asymptote was a physical as well as a psychological phenomenon, and affected men by varying degrees depending on their mental preparedness and their final size. Basically, the body's rapid dimunition outruns the mind's ability to perceive three-dimensional space.

"I g-guess it comes with the t-t-territory," he stuttered.

"What does?"

"The bigger, the better, right? But the bigger, the more dangerous, too. You can't have one without the other." What am I saying? he thought.

She nodded judiciously. "That's a very sensible way of looking at it."

"You gotta weigh the pros against the cons." He laughed manically.

She flipped over on her butt and swiveled around, bringing her enclosed legs down around him like a cage. She started pleasuring him rhythmically with her nail. He was at full mast in seconds. "Would you like me to make you come, Mr. Paul?"

"Uh-huh," he said. No need to elaborate.

"What'll you do for me if I do?"

"What c-can I do?" he said, his shortness of patience giving rise to the admission of the hard truth. There was nothing he could do for her. He was the size of a bug, helpless, a nuisance at best. He couldn't even go to the bathroom on his own.

"You could come with me to college and let me be your giantess," she suggested.

Paul instantly sobered and looked into her green eyes. "What?"

"You heard me." She was serious. This was her endgame. She wanted to keep him, like a pet. "For at least a week, until you're too big to hide in my dorm room," she added. "The girls in college will have way more experience than me. I need to catch up, quickly. I need a boy to coach me in what boys like."

Could have fooled me, Paul thought. "I c-can't go with you. I—I have a life here."

"No, you don't, Mr. Paul. You sit in your apartment all day waiting to recover from the shrinking disease, counting down the hours until you'll be able to masturbate again. You'll never have to masturbate when you're with me, though. I'll take good care of you."

She paused her finger over his testicles and pressed down. His eyes bulged.

"Go to college with me, and I'll let you come as many times as you want. Wouldn't that be nice? Think of all the things my big body can do for you. You'd want for nothing. There's more of me than you know what to do with."

His cock twitched. His hand reflexively reached for it, to give it those final tugs that stood between him and ecstasy. She intercepted his hand, pinned it to the bed.

"I told you, only I can make you come, Mr. Paul." She rubbed the soft pad of her finger over his belly, torturing him with the prospect of release. He thrust his hips, trying to touch his cock against anything. He felt like his balls were going to explode.

"You want to come so bad, huh? The pressure is getting to be too much for you, isn't it? I can relieve the pressure for you. All you have to do is let me be your giantess. And I promise I'll bring you home after the first week of classes."

Paul's eyes darted frantically inside his head. His physical exertion, his fear and arousal, his weaker than average constitution, his size all worked together to initiate a mental breakdown. He felt like he was being dissolved from the inside out. Nothing was matter anymore, only energy and sensation.

"It would make your giantess so happy if you said yes," Brooke continued in her seductive tone. "Say yes, Mr. Paul. If you say no…"

His mind filled in the blanks. He knew what she would do. She'd pinch his balls off! Kill him between her gorgeous breasts!

"Yes!" he gasped. "F-fuck, yes, I'll d-do it! Please, do it!"

She smiled. "Excellent choice, Mr. Paul. I'm going to take your voice amplifier now."

"Why?"

"Because when you come, I don't want your screams to wake up my dad."

"Okay." With that, the last bit of resistance left him. The girl who rivaled infinity in his mind could do whatever she wanted with him.

Brooke turned his head to the side and pulled the device out of his ear. Then, in one fluid motion she lifted her legs and pulled her booty shorts off. She gingerly lifted his body between her thick thighs and pressed his back against the red lace covering—or not covering—her young womanhood. With three fingers wrapped around him, she lifted him up and over her overripe clit, while rubbing his penis between her fingertips. Her folds eased open to allow his entrance, but the thin veil of lace protected her virginity. At any rate, the friction was so good and right where she needed it. She orgasmed within seconds. While her juices flooded down his back, he trembled like a man possessed, and his load flew an impressive distance across the bed. 

She lifted him up to her face. He was passed out, the trauma of the orgasm shutting his body down. "You're not going to regret this, Mr. Paul," she whispered.

Yes, he would.

She cuddled him against her freckled cheek, and sniffed the air. He smelled like one of her farts. "You stink, Mr. Paul. You need a bath."

She took him to the bathroom to clean him up.

It was an usually chilly morning for late August, so Kimberly wore yoga pants under a knee-length, blue-gray summer dress. She pulled into the Speed's driveway behind Brooke's new used Nissan Altima shortly before 8 am as Andy and Brooke were carrying boxes out the front door.

"Hey Kim!" Brooke said giddily. She had some pep in her step. She was excited to finally be going to college.

"Hey," she replied.

"I made biscuits. They're in the kitchen."

"Cool, thanks." Cake, biscuits, breasts, reading the Bible… Brooke was unrecognizable after the changes she went through this summer.

"Hey, Kim," Andy said gruffly, lagging behind his taller, stronger daughter. He was carrying a box that weighed almost as much as he did.

"Good morning, my love." She kissed him on the mouth, took the box from him, and dropped it in the trunk of Brooke's car. "Did Paul leave already?" she asked.

"The woman from All Sizes came and picked him up about an hour ago, right Brooke?"

"Right," Brooke said. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

Kimberly sighed with relief. She had lost sleep during the night, worrying what the little man might let happen if he came under Brooke's spell. She remembered all too clearly what Brooke had confided to her, how she wanted to dominate a shrunken man of her own. It looked like restraint won the night.

Andy grabbed Kimberly's hand and led her into the house. "I need your help with something."

He led her through the living room into the kitchen. "Did you tell Brooke that I was at your date with Paul?" he whispered.

Kimberly blushed. This was the risk she ran in trying to head off Brooke, and she was prepared to defend it. "I did."

Andy paced and ran his fingers through his hair. "Why did you do that?! Brooke can't know what happened between us before Alecia died. I thought we were in agreement on that!"

"We were. I'm sorry. I only told her you tried to break up the date and he got violent. She just thinks you were trying to protect me from a creepy older man. I didn't go into what happened before or afterward."

"But she could ask, couldn't she? She could put it together on her own."

"Andy, will you listen to me? There's a reason I told her."

"What?" he demanded.

She sighed. "Brooke was flirting heavily with Paul last night. If things went any further, they would both do something they would regret. I knew I couldn't stop her, so I tried to change her mind."

Andy scoffed. "I would have noticed her flirting with him."

"I saw it with my own eyes, Andy. She talked to him about helping him come."

"And you believed she would—would… with Paul?" He was struggling to understand.

Kimberly nodded. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes!" This was his little girl they were talking about. Well, maybe not so little, but still…

Kimberly bit her lip. She didn't want to bring this up, but she had to. "I know about your little rendezvous in my bra, the day we played that prank on her."

It was Andy's turn to darken with shame. "Whoa, whoa, hold it right there. It's not what you think, Kim. NOTHING happened. She—"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. She told me what she did, and she also told me some other things, about how she would use a shrunken man if she ever got her hands on one. I couldn't let that happen to Paul. Remember how aggressive she was with you? Think how much more aggressive she would be with him."

Andy was still recovering from the revelation that she knew about the incident between him and Brooke. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. It was humiliating, to lose control of your body like that in front of your child—because of your child. What must Kimberly think about him, about Brooke? And she still wanted to be part of this family. She must be insane. They were all insane.

He shook his head to clear it. "Looks like we haven't been as honest with each other as we should have been."

She carressed his cheek. "You don't have to apologize. This whole thing is my fault."

He held up his hand. "Kim, please—"

"I should have pulled you aside, but the evening was going so well, you were so happy, I didn't want to ruin it for you. I thought I could take care of it on my own." She inclined her head. "I'm sorry."

Andy reached his short arms around her waist. "I'm sorry, too."

Some time elapsed. It could have 3 minutes or 30. It had been an emotionally stormy summer for both of them. But storms reveal the sturdy rock upon which future foundations should be built. Andy and Kimberly had a firm foundation in each other and the providence of God.

Brooke walked into the kitchen, came up short when she saw them embracing. "Car's loaded up, Daddy. Ready to go?"

"In a minute, sweetie." Brooke left, and Andy looked up at the woman he loved most in the world. His love for her made her glow. "Let's go to college."

The drive to Iowa City took 3 hours. It was moving day for a lot of students, and the campus was bustling with incoming freshmen and their families, many of whom were there for the first time.

Kimberly and Brooke parked on the street in front of one of the freshman dorms and started unloading Brooke's car. Gobsmacked 18 year-old boys and their fathers gawked at the procession of two beautiful girls (sisters?) and the small man (kid brother?) carrying stuff up the stairs to the second floor. Andy was relegated to carrying sheets and pillows on account of his inability to lift heavy objects.

The 150 square foot room was empty except for two bed frames and two tall dressers. Brooke had texted her roommate and learned she was moving in tomorrow, so she would have the first choice of bed. She chose the bed against the far wall, underneath the window. The room was on the corner of the building, so with two windows there was plenty of natural light.

Brooke and Kimberly made four more trips between the room and the car. Andy, who wasn't much use, started unpacking Brooke's things and setting up her room for her. She tapped the box labeled INTIMATES with her toe. "Don't touch this box, Daddy."

"Don't worry, I won't," he assured her. Handling his daughter's undergarments was the furthest thing from his mind. He set up the writing desk and hooked her laptop up to the Internet.

Amidst her desk supplies, he found two framed photos. One was of him, standing next to Kimberly's Bible, flexing his arms like a wrestler. The other was of him, Alicia, Brooke, and Kimberly, in the stands at a football game. Brooke was in her marching uniform. She was 16 in the photo, still a young girl. Hell, she still WAS a young girl. Just… grown up. He looked at Alecia in the photo. If you could see our daughter now, you'd be so proud, he thought.

The door flew open and the girls walked through the door with armfuls of clothes. He wiped away his tears, covering up his mixed emotions. "Is that everything?" he asked, voice cracking.

They hung up the clothes in the closet. What didn't fit on a hangar was dumped in the bed.

"There's just one box left. Stay here, I'll be back," Brooke said.

As soon as she left the room, Andy and Kimberly looked at each other. Alone at last. She'd been waiting all day for this chance. Something she had overheard Brooke teasing Paul with last night had given her ideas that she couldn't wait to try out.

She put her hand on top of his head, then moved her hand laterally towards her hip to compare his height to hers. "My legs are still longer than you are tall," she said.

"Not for long."

"You say that like it's a good thing." She sidled next to him, giving him an eyeful of her perfect pins juxtaposed to his small body. She lifted the bottom of her blue-gray dress, letting him see the form-fitting yoga pants clinging to her butt and thighs.

"I have this theory that every man has the shrinking disease," she said.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Remember when I kicked your friend Paul in the balls?"

Andy smirked. "How could I forget?"

She stepped towards him, backing him against the wall of Brooke's dorm room, next to the dresser. Her right knee brushed against his crotch and thudded against the wall between his legs.

"I could feel his balls on my leg when I kicked him. They were small—not just small, but tiny. Tinier, in fact, than you when you stopped shrinking."

Andy wondered where she was going with this. It was definitely someplace new, someplace exotic. He decided he would let himself be strung along, for now.

"What's your point?" he asked, looking up at her pretty face.

"My point, Andy, is men are small. Even 6-foot tall men, like Paul, they have small testicles. Us big girls have to be careful around them so we don't hurt them, the same way I had to be careful around you when you could fit in my hand."

She tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear and placed her hands on his shoulders. Holding him steady, she pushed her knee into his junk. His boner sprang to attention.

"So even when you're big again, Andy, you'll still be small, because your balls are small."

She slid her knee up the wall, her leg lifting his 30-pound frame off the floor easily. He grunted as his bodyweight was added to the pressure on his testicles.

"How small do you feel, Andy?"

"Real small."

She pressed her crotch into his chest and flexed her quadriceps, grinding her strong leg into his groin. His torso bent forward reflexively.

"How small do you feel?" she repeated huskily.

"I'm… tiny," he gasped, hugging her toned thigh, which was thick as a telephone pole and tenderizing his precious gonads.

She bounced her knee. "Do you feel helpless, Andy?"

His voice rose an octave. "Yeah." He knew he should stop her, but all that they'd been through had built in him an unshakeable faith in her. He'd ceded control a long time ago.

"That's because your balls are small. So, so small. I could flatten them with my leg. It wouldn't be that hard for a big girl like me to take away that which makes you a man. Does that frighten you?"

She was driving him wild with her voice. Her dirty talk was elite since she moved back in with her parents. That's what weeks of phone sex will do.

"A little," he moaned.

She chuckled. "It would frighten me a lot, for my manhood to be so small and so helpless, to be at the mercy of my big fiancé. I mean, what if I made her upset? Or what if she didn't look where she was going and accidentally—" She jerked her leg lower and his package landed on her bony knee. "—squished them?"

He mewled pitifully, his anticipated orgasm ruined. She stroked the back of his head like he was a child.

"Oh, did that hurt you? I'm so sorry. I guess your balls are pretty weak, huh?"

She reveled in the power, the ease with which she controlled him. It was such a little thing, to lift her leg this way, to bob it that way. But such minutiae comprised Andy's whole world at the present moment. He really was a helpless little man.

She whispered in his ear, "You're lucky I want children, Andy, or I would take your nuts just for my edification."

She slid her knee higher off the floor. Andy's head followed the curve of her chest and he went vertical against the wall, face engulfed in his confident fiancé's curves.

"Oh, allow me to introduce you to my boobs, Andy," she said, nonchalant. "They're what identify me as a woman. Kinda like your nuts, but much, much bigger."

Keeping him pinned to the wall with her body, she pulled her dress over her head and unfastened her bra, uncovering her teardrop-shaped breasts and pepperoni-sized areolas. His face fell in the shadow of her deep cleavage.

"They're big, huh Andy?" she purred.

He licked his lips. "Oh yeah."

One of her large hands went around the back of his head, keeping his face pointed at her bare breasts. She twisted her knee gingerly under his testicles. Her coltish leg could dole out pleasure as well as pain. His penis woke up from the dead.

"How big are they, Andy?"

He rubbed his right cheek against the inner swell of her left breast. How he wished to be tiny again, just to curl up in her warm, sumptuous bosom, despite its dangers. His voice reverberated in the hollow between her mounds. "Fucking huge."

She turned her shulders, buffeting his face with her soft breasts. "I know. So very, very big to a tiny man like you. They almost crushed you like a bug, remember? How small do they make you feel now?"

"Microscopic."

She liked that. "Let's test that theory," she said. She lowered her leg to the floor, holding Andy's body against the wall with her buxom chest alone. She loosened his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees. He felt cool air on his exposed genitals.

"Ooh, you could be right, Andy. I can barely see your microscopic balls. Hold onto the dresser, I need to take a closer look."

Kimberly lifted Andy by his hips until his stiff, 4-inch cock pointed at her long cleavage. She turned 90 degress to her left so his lower back was up against the dresser, and he could support his meager form on his elbows on the dresser top. She held his hard, little penis against his belly and cupped his bald ballsack in her hand, closing her fist until she could feel resistance from his gristly testicles floating loosely inside.

"They both fit in the palm of my hand, Andy. Can your hand hold even half of one of my huge boobs?"

"Unh," Andy groaned, incapable of forming words as her strong hand fondled his nuts.

"So fragile, so tiny," she cooed. She pumped her fist around his nuts at short intervals, like he was a stress ball. His scrotum turned red as it distorted in her grasp.

Andy's body jolted like he was being electrocuted. A visceral fear joined his sexual excitement. Did she know what she was doing? Did she know to stop before she crushed them?

She thrust out her chest and gathered her heavy breasts around his junk. His cock and balls disappeared in her flesh. She panted with excitement, "Do you feel that, Andy? You're so small, I can fit all of you between my huge boobs. I could flatten your balls with my boobs, that's how microscopic you are." She squeezed him in her cleavage and tugged upwards.

Andy's brain, awash with conflicting sensations, was barely functional. The pain from his stretched nutcords was contradicted by the sublime friction she applied to his sensitive cock.

Kimberly kissed his chest through his shirt. Her tone was less playful and more serious. "I don't know how long it will be before we have more time alone together, Andy. So I'll leave you with this so you won't forget what you have to look forward to on a daily basis when we're married. Even though you're getting bigger every day, I'm still bigger than you'll ever be. You can't resist me, and you never will. Happy birthday, baby."

She jerked his hard penis up and down, side to side, between her lucious baps. The pain from before converted to a sharp pleasure that started at the base of his balls and worked its way up to his glans. His loins tightened and he geysered all over her swan-like neck. He would have hit the ceiling were it not for her chin getting in the way.

Hot, watery jizz streaming down her chest, she continued to milk his erection even when the spasms stopped, in case he wanted to go another round. But after a detonation like that, he wouldn't be coming again for awhile.

She lowered him to the floor. His legs crumpled underneath him and he fell on his butt. She wiped his semen off her breasts with a tissue.

She had been a little concerned that Andy's growth since they were last together would diminish their passion. But the level of interaction with his larger body was so much better, it more than made up for the loss of her perceived proportions.

She put her clothes back on and helped her fiancé to his feet. He looked dazed. She giggled girlishly, pleased with herself. "You gonna be okay?"

She was so casual about it, so matter-of-fact about giving him the tittyfuck of his life. There were times, like this, when she scared him. She knew he loved her, knew her body fired him up. But could she ever know—could she ever REALLY understand—just how powerful she was?

"Come closer," he said.

She knelt next to him, concerned. "Did I go too far? I'm sorry, I—"

He touched her cheek. "You will always be a giant in my eyes, Kim, no matter how big or small I am, because I love you." His hand went around her neck, and he pulled her in for a kiss. More accurately, she felt him meekly tugging on her neck, and she followed his lead.

Before their lips touched, however, his small hand darted over her right breast and twisted her pointy nipple, outlined in her dress.

"Oh!" She fell back on her haunches, holding her right breast protectively.

Andy frowned coquettishly. "What's the matter, Kim? Did my big, bad hand hurt your tiny, little nipple?"

Her shock turned into a playful smile. "You cheeky—Ah!"

He tackled her chest, sending her onto her back. She may live rent-free in every nook and cranny of his mind, but he would not have survived this relationship without knowing a thing or two about what made Kimberly tick. He wasn't totally helpless, after all. Hell, when he was 3 inches tall, he reduced her to puddy by jerking off her nipple with his feet. He could hold his own against her, and it would do her well to remember that.

He delved under her dress and pulled the 36G bra cups up off her breasts. He latched into her right nipple like a starving infant, stimulating the other nipple between his fingers. His other hand reached all the way down across her washboard stomach to grope her pussy through her yoga pants.

He'd never stimulated both her nipples at once, because he could never reach both nipples at once before. Now he was doing it AND stoking her fire down below. Hugging Andy's little body against her, Kimberly covered her mouth with her other hand and moaned uncontrollably. Parents helping their daughters move into adjacent dorm rooms stopped and wondered what the hell was going on.

The door opened and Brooke walked in with the last box of her stuff. "Jeez, I can't leave you two alone for 10 minutes!"

Andy jumped to his feet. "Don't you knock, Brooke?"

"Not when it's my room, Dad," she said reprovingly.

Kimberly was slower in getting up. She pulled her dress down. "Sorry, Brooke. Don't tell my parents, okay?"

She clucked her tongue. "I'll think about it." She let the box drop to the floor next to the dresser. "That's that last of it!"

They looked at each other. The moment had arrived. It was time to go.

Kimberly hugged her best friend and future stepdaughter. "Good luck, Brooke."

Andy was next. He hugged her legs, turning his head to avoid getting a faceful of her crotch. "I love you sweetie. Be a good girl. Call if you need anything."

"No sweat, Daddy. I'll see you next Friday." She followed them to the door and locked it behind them. She spun around and leaned her back against the door. "Finally!" she cheered.

She ran to the box labeled INTIMATES. She dumped its contents—an assortment of bras, panties, and strappy heels—in a pile on the floor and pulled out a rolled-up pair of black, thigh-high nylon stockings. She unrolled them on the bare mattress.

"Hello, Mr. Paul," she said to the 1.9-inch lump entangled in one of the stockings. Good, she thought. He hasn't stopped shrinking.

The nude man looked up at his giantess's audacious form, shaded by the mesh of the stocking like she was Athena peering through the clouds from atop Mount Olympus. He was cold and hungry and thirsty, but seeing her made him forget everything. When he was with her, he wanted for nothing.

"Hi, Brooke," he said.

She saw his lips moving, but she couldn't hear him. She turned her Volkswagen-sized ear to him. "What was that?"

"I said 'Hi!'" he shouted.

"Oh." She turned her freckled face towards him again. "Guess what? There was an upperclassman handing these out in front of the building." She pulled a yellow flyer out of her jeans pocket to show him. "I've been invited to an off-campus party!"

That was quick, Paul thought, but not altogether surprising.

"You're gonna come with me to make sure I don't blow it with any of the guys there, okay?"

Sounds good to me, he thought. He was up for whatever.

"The party starts at 6, so we're going to get dressed now."

She took off her blouse and jeans, and posed in her underwear in front of the mirror hanging on the closet door. "Should I wear this bra, or another one?" She turned to view her profile. "I really like the shape of my boobs from the side in this bra, but it covers so much. You can't see any skin or cleavage."

Paul couldn't confirm or refute her observations from his persective. She walked over to the bed and lifted up the stocking. He twisted in his nylon confines in front of her chest.

"I guess it depends on whether you think less is more," Brooke said. "Guys in the digital era already know what big boobs look like. They masturbate to it all the time."

This is true, Paul thought.

"It might be better to let the guys at the party know I have big boobs, so they can try to imagine what they look like naked. That way I'll hook them and leave them wanting more."

He nodded in agreement. Her logic was sound.

"This bra it is, then." She shimmied her shoulders, sending her house-sized breasts into motion, stressing the bra's elastic band and Paul's credulity. His wolf whistle reached her ears.

She smiled smarmily. "You know, my cleavage feels tight in this bra. I wonder if it's TOO tight. Would you help me test it, Mr. Paul?"

She opened her cleavage and tucked the end of the stocking deep between her breasts. She reached underneath through her bra, grabbed hold of it, and pulled it through. The nylon flattened as it passed through her bosom. Paul sank into her tight cleavage up to his armpits. He had time to look up at her serene, heart-shaped face before she tugged on the stocking from below, submerging him in her flesh. Her full, sensuous breasts pressed in from everywhere, their supernatural perkiness his only savior from their crushing weight.

He emerged on the other side, next to her waspish belly, short of breath and stupid with bliss.

"Was that too tight?" she asked. He shook his head. "Good. Now, before I pick a skirt and a blouse, I'm going to put on my stockings. Hang on."

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she pulled one stocking, then the other, over her shapely legs. Paul found himself face down on the soft, erotic mass of Brooke's left thigh, the nylon pressing against his back and holding him securely in place.

She walked to the mirror. The wind whistled by. Paul felt like he was hanging off the side of a building in the middle of a hurricane AND an earthquake.

"Aww, you look so cute in my stocking. You blend in with my skin. I think I'll keep you there all night, what do you think?"

She tapped his tiny bottom, then pinched the nylon over his body between her fingers and lifted. Paul tumbled down past her knee to her shin, where the stocking ran out of slack. He was now caught upside down and facing out from her leg.

Brooke returned to the bed and lay on her back. She stretched her left leg from the hip, rotating her long, skinny gam 180 degrees until her shin, the one Paul was stuck to, was in front of her face. His hard member wagged through one of the thousands of holes in the mesh.

"Is that erection for me?" She batted her eyelashes and stuck out her wet tongue. It covered him like a thick, wet blanket. She licked him like a popsicle from bottom to top, giving a little wiggle under his balls. It was enough. With a moan his hot cum squirted onto her pouty bottom lip.

"Ooh." She spread his load like balm over her her lip and dabbed it on her tongue. "Salty," she observed.

She stood up and put on the rest of her outfit. She ended up wearing a conservative pink blouse with a black miniskirt that ended where her stockings began. When she walked, the skirt waved, allowing titillating glimpses of her creamy thighs—and, for Paul, glimpses of her panties. Some black pumps brought her height to 5 feet, 9 inches. His approval was sought in every aspect of the ensemble.

"I think it's time we met the twins," Brooke announced.

What is she talking about? I'm already well-acquainted with her twins, he thought, still hanging upside down on her shin.

She left the room and ventured boldly out into the hallway, Paul hidden in plain sight on her stockinged leg.

"Slow down! I'm gonna be sick!" he screamed. She didn't hear him.

The neighbors' door was propped open. Rock music was playing softly. Brooke stopped on the threshold. "Hello, Anna," Brooke said.

"Oh, hey! It's Brooke, right?" answered a high-pitched voice with a Missouri twang.

Paul turned himself upright to gain a better view of the owner of this voice. All he could see were two tan, athletic legs wearing high, white socks and ending in a pair of yellow athletic shorts.

A matching pair of pins wearing the same shorts lumbered up next to the first. Paul shook his head. Was he seeing double?

"This is my sister Isabel."

"Bella for short," the new girl said. Her voice was more nasally, but their accents were indistinguishable.

"I'm going to a party tonight. Want to come?" She showed them the flier.

"A party? I dunno. No one invited us."

Brooke snorted. "Girls on basketball scholarships who look like you don't need to be invited."

"But I'm still sweaty from practice. I need at least an hour to get ready."

"We should go, Anna. Our first college party. I bet there will be a ton of cute guys there," the voice belonging to Bella said.

"Coach wants us back at practice at 7 in the morning."

"So we'll leave by 9," Brooke said.

"I'm going, even if you're not," Bella decreed.

"Fine, I'll go," Anna sighed.

To Paul's chagrin, Brooke angled her leg out and talked down at him. "Did you hear that, Mr. Paul? Anna and Bella are going to the party with us."

Paul saw two faces, haloed by fiery red hair, tilt towards the floor. Twins! Actual identical twins. And they were stunning. The only visible difference between them was once wore a headband, and the other had her hair in a bun.

The sisters looked at each other like Brooke was crazy. "Uh, who's Mr. Paul? You're imaginary friend?"

"No. He's my real friend." Brooke raised her left knee to her chest. "Look."

Anna and Bella bent at the knees to get a closer look at the deformity on Brooke's shin. Paul's spine tingled as two regal redheads, mirror images of each other with long, muscular arms and stilts for legs, examined his Lilliputian body.

One of them—the one called Anna, wearing the headband—frowned and said, "Why is there a little doll man in your stocking?"

"That's not a doll. He's real. That's a shrunken man," Bella said, her brown eyes glowing.

"Shut up!" Anna's face moved closer. Her breath bathed him in her lilac-scented body odor. Her black sports bra bulged formidably. Holy fuck, these chicks are big, he thought.

"She's right. Check this out." Brooke's monolith of a finger approached him from 4 o'clock and nudged the underside of his soft penis. It was like pressing a button. Paul ejaculated on demand. His spunk arced through the air and fell into the seemingly bottomless pit between Anna's fluffy mounds.

"Ew! His sperm landed on me." She recoiled in disgust, hands covering her breasts as if a man had just walked in on her while she was changing.

Brooke laughed. "He likes you. He's a horny little devil, but deep down he's a sweetheart."

"Who is he he? What are you doing with him?" Bella asked.

"Like I told you, he's Mr. Paul. He's showing me the ways of the world. How experienced are you with boys?"

Anna shrugged. "I kissed a boy once."

"I made her boyfriend come in his pants," Bella said, too proudly. "A case of mistaken identity."

"We agreed you wouldn't bring that up again, Isabel," Anna said, stressing every syllable of her sister's name.

"Hmm. If he's up for it, maybe I'll loan him to you. Would you like that, Mr. Paul?" Brooke touched the soft pad of her finger to his groin again. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he ejaculated weakly. A small amount this time, but still satisfying.

"I thought you would." She held her jizz-stained finger up to Bella's lips. "Taste?"

The statuesque redhead smirked, took hold of Brooke's wrist, and sucked her finger clean.

Kimberly turned into a parking garage instead of heading towards the highway.

"Where are we going?" Andy asked, trying to push himself up out of his booster seat to look out the window.

She parked the car in a dark, secluded corner of the garage and shut off the engine. She climbed into the backseat and lifted her dress over her head. She snaked her large hand over Andy's groin and unbuckled the latch.

He cocked an eyebrow at his fiancé. "What's up, Kim?"

She lifted him up and set him on her lap, facing her chest and straddling her thighs. "You're going to finish what you started."

Looking furtively through the windows to ensure they were secluded, she flipped her bra cups up. Her fat breasts flopped out, nipples pointing at him accusingly.

Andy's face lit up. "If you insist."

Twenty months later…

"Tara's Theme" from Gone With The Wind played through the church speakers. Brooke's entrance music. Andy exhaled heavily and looked at his daughter, a vision in her white wedding dress, her distractingly large breasts tastefully played down in a minimizing bra. He looked into her bright green eyes. There was eagerness there, and nervousness.

"Ready, honey?"

"I'm ready, Daddy."

He hooked his arm through hers and raised on his tiptoes to kiss her veiled forehead. She was taller than him in her heels.

The doors opened, the people stood, and Andy walked his daughter down the aisle.

Matching her stride for stride, despite his limp, Andy locked eyes with the tuxedo-attired groom. Eric bent his knees and bounced on the balls of his feet. Five months ago he'd asked for Andy's blessing to marry Brooke, and he'd given it without hesitation, having already discussed it with his wife. Brooke was an odd girl, but with Eric she was almost normal. The young man brought out the best in her. For that reason alone, Alecia would have loved him.

Andy required one more qualification for the man who would take his daughter's hand. He had to be able to provide for his family. Eric had worked full time as an assistant manager at the mall ice cream shop while earning his associate degree in graphic design. Andy admired his motivation and work ethic. He was well-qualified to marry Brooke.

His eyes drifted left to the maid of honor, his wife. Kimberly was beautiful in her blue bridesmaid dress, but she looked almost ordinary standing next to the two amazons who were second and third down the line. The last year had been amazing. Kimberly wasn't the same as Alecia, but she didn't have to be. She was exactly who Andy needed in his life. Every day validated the risk he took in asking the much younger woman's hand in marriage. He didn't know it yet, but she was 6 weeks' pregnant with the first of three sons.

In the fifth pew from the front, sitting on the aisle, was Paul and his girlfriend. Andy didn't understand why Brooke wanted to invite him, considering they barely knew each other. While the shrinking disease had left Andy 6 inches shorter than his original height, the disease's effect on Paul, psychologically, was more profound. He returned to work when he grew past 5 feet tall and was clearly not ready. He was distracted, fidgety, and short-tempered. He lasted a month before quitting his job. Andy heard through the grapevine that he was day-trading from home, and doing fairly well. His professional dominatrix girlfriend, 6 feet, 5 inches tall and north of 300 pounds, stood next to him, tears streaming down her face. Andy shook his head. How did he go from dating girls like Kimberly to dating girls like that? Oh well, they looked happy.

He and Brooke stopped at the front pew. "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" the pastor said.

"Her family and I do," Andy said. Eric stepped towards them. Andy felt Brooke slip free of him and take hold of Eric's arm. They both faced the pastor, and Andy sat down in the pew to his left, next to Alecia's mother and Kimberly's parents.

Roy smiled and patted his son-in-law on the arm. "Welcome to the club, Andrew."

Andy clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He'd done it. He'd given his daughter away.

Weddings made Kimberly super horny. After the reception, Andy whisked her to their hotel room and had his way with her.

She was his equal in bed, being an inch taller and only 20 pounds lighter than him. She helped his stamina with playful squeezes and kicks to his scrotum, preventing him from releasing but keeping him long and hard for her benefit. After she climaxed twice, she made him come via their favorite method. She sucked him off, taking as much of him in her mouth as she could, and guzzled down his salty load. Afterwards, they spooned.

"Do you think Eric and Brooke are having as much fun as we are?" she asked, when the afterglow passed.

He chortled as he played with her nipples. "I doubt it."

In the honeymoon suite, Brooke collapsed on the bed next to her naked, sweaty husband. His eyes were as big as saucers.

"Where did you learn to do all that?" he said hoarsely.

"Sources," was Brooke's cryptic answer. She was glad to see her 2 year-old research on Paul paying dividends. She pulled the sheets over them and moved her no longer virginal body closer to his, her manicured fingers dancing over his belly and along his enthusiastic cock.

Eric felt her feet intertwine with his. His face screwed up. "Have you gotten bigger?"

She gasped at his lewd question. "Aren't I big enough already?" she giggled, crushing her ample breasts against him.

He sat up. He'd always been a few inches taller than Brooke. She had looked taller than him at the wedding, but that was because she was wearing high heels. Or was it? Here he was looking his bride straight in the face, and her toes were touching his toes.

"Stand up. I want to see something."

Brooke smirked and slid the sheets off her glistening body. They stood nude in front of each other next to the bed. Eye to eye.

He looked down past Brooke's ivory bosom to confirm she wasn't wearing heels or footwear of any kind. The reality of the situation dawned on her before him.

"Eric, you're shrinking!"

THE END…?