There was a
dreary road made of asphalt which had faded to a light gray. On its surface, a
small economy car, a Honda Civic, rode lazily upon it. It was colored a dark
red, and sported a few scuffs and scratches upon its body. Suspicious white
puddles dotted the top, and the bulbs of its front lights were barely visible
beneath a layer of haze.
Still, the man
driving the vehicle was rather clean cut. Jet black hair was slicked back,
threatening to become a slippery mullet. While still appearing rather young,
the definition of his sharp jawline, and the general exhaustion of dark colored
eyes suggested some sort of experience. His shirt was white and neatly pressed,
and his tie was dull and uninteresting, a maroon fabric adorned with diagonal
white stripes. The black shoes that cautiously pumped the accelerator possessed
little luster, though unlike the car, they lacked scuff marks.
A lazy turn was
made, the man taking little care to observe his immediate surroundings. Such
was his distraction that only one hand lay on the steering wheel. Upon this
hand, on the third finger, was a simple golden ring. It glimmered, even under
the overcast evening sky.
What had caught
this man’s fancy was a rather large structure down the road. All other
dwellings, simple one-story houses, were absolutely dwarfed by the monolith.
Aside from its size, however, it was almost as plain as the others. Large panes
of glass which could have accommodated at least seven stories of windows graced
the street-side face of the building.
The rest was of a
dull gray material. A simple dark roof over hung the top of the structure.
The man eyed a
path leading directly to the building, about the width of his car. Pumping the
breaks, he performed a nonchalant one handed turn. The narrow road was long,
and the colossal building he approached appeared to black out the already gray
sky. As the Civic rattled alongside the building, it came to rest near a white
painted garage door. The paint upon the door was beginning to flake, and thus,
the man made a note to himself to schedule when he would have to attend to that
The walk from his
car was brisk. He did not even bother to retrieve his black handbag, which
rested on the passenger's seat. By the time he remembered where he left the
item, the man had already made it to the door within.
A pale hand
entered his right side pocket of the nearly smooth black pants. The tell-tale
jingle of keys had been made obvious as he rummaged through. He managed to grab
an object, but then curled his lips in dissatisfaction, for he had mistakenly
retrieved his detached Id badge.
Upon it lay his
indifferent expression, and the name, “Andrew”.
Storing away the
badge, his second attempt proved to be successful. With his curled lips now in
a small smile, the door was unlocked, and he wasted nothing on ceremony to
Before him lay a
massive room. Wooden floors with large panels appeared to stretch for an
eternity. Daunting walls, and several tall structures occupied the area. An
acute observer would note that these very structures possessed the appearance
of scaled-up versions of tables and chairs, as well as a kitchen island.
Peering across the vast expanse, one would observe a colossal, yet humble
electric stove and oven. And if they were to crane their necks high enough,
they would observe a black, finger-smeared microwave above it.
Andrew had taken
care to remove his shoes, before setting inside of the gigantic kitchen.
About five steps
in, he knelt down, and swiped a finger across what little of the floor he could
cover. Bringing the extremity to his face, he scrunched his nose upon observing
a faint gray tint.
Dang, it would
take forever if I tried to clean the floor again. I know Caitlin’s gone for the
day, but …
The thought ended
as the finger was dusted against the side of his pants. His opposite hand
crawled up to his neck, loosening the Windsor knot that had held his collar
hostage for nearly eleven hours. Andrew broke into a small jog, which would
have to suffice as his exercise for the day.
A dark brown eye
shot up, not able to peer at the top of the table that he now passed under.
To him, even as
he hastened his pace, the surrounding area appeared slow to pass by. A growl
from his stomach only provided further encouragement.
approached the kitchen island. Drawers with handles that would require his
entire wingspan to grab ahold of loomed menacingly above. Upon closer
inspection, the entire structure was made of a cheap polymer pseudo-wood. At
his income, such was necessary to accommodate the sheer scale it was built.
He let out a
satisfied exhale as the shadow of the island was left behind him. A
stories-high refrigerator now loomed above him, despite the fact that he stood
a great distance away. At the base of the great cooling unit, there was a
minuscule perforation, perfectly fit for him to march on through. Andrew jogged
towards it, but slowed down, for he observed a dark, shiny spot on the floor.
It was a dark brown, a shade that evoked either coffee or tea. However, this
particular spot did not tremble on his approach, nor did it shine like a liquid
would. Instead, it lay still, staining the floor below.
Part of him was
tempted to cease, and scrub away the offending spot. His growling stomach
forced him to leave that activity for later.
At last, his
destination had been reached. Cool air greeted him as he dragged open the heavy
door. Right at the entrance lay various containers, filled with leftovers,
although these were of scale for him.
Of course, if he
were to venture further into the fridge, the tubbaware would be far larger.
He enjoyed a cold
dinner quietly, and quickly, settling for eating just outside of the fridge.
Andrew eyed a massive doorway right next to the fridge. It was made from a
wood-like material that took up the massive height of the gigantic room. The
man let his glance linger a bit too long, before he continued shoveling
leftovers into his mouth, taking care to not allow a drop of food touch the
In far less time
than it took him to retrieve it, dinner was finished. Dishes were stacked in an
orderly manner, before being marched off to a mirror black dishwasher. Much
like the refrigerator, there was a ground level entrance to scale which allowed
him to deposit his dirty dishes.
across the floor once more, speeding past the central island, all the way to an
oversized white-painted door. Nothing but black could be discerned under it,
yet he ducked under the bottom, easily able to fit within the allotted room the
door allowed. He took care to avoid any splinters that passed by overhead,
before he had managed to enter the next room.
area he had entered was not floored with massive wood panels, but a thick
carpeting with strands than made it up to his knees. As such, Andrew’s steps
became comically large as he forded forward. To him, the material was course,
rough, irritating, and managed to drag everywhere, pulling upon his ironed
pants, his neatly pressed shirt, and even snagging his tie
Up ahead, much
like in the kitchen, lay familiar objects at an unfamiliar size. The looming
bed dominated the space in the room. A dark, thick comforter that could at
least cover a block of an average neighborhood lay on top, before drooping down
over until some of the material lay sprawled upon the carpet. Standing right
next to it was a nightstand, which held an alarm clock.
step, he nearly lost his balance, for the terrain had abruptly changed. Instead
of raggedy, course carpet fibers that loved to hug every nook and cranny of his
business suit, now he had trudged upon a smooth, silky nylon sheet.
steady himself, he narrowed his eyes as he viewed the edge of this new area
within the massive bedroom. Tight threading left the nylon bunched in a pattern
of distinct folds. If he were to take a step back, it would have been easy to
observe that these rhythmic folds formed a gigantic waistband … a waistband to
an equally colossal pair of shorts.
From the rather
stout width the legs of these shorts possessed, one could conclude such a
massive article of clothing would have only covered a fraction of the thigh of
whoever could fit into it. Its smooth nylon material easily captured every bump
and dip of the carpet.
bother to fold these, eh?” Andrew mused to himself. He bent down, grasping some
of the silky material. Immediately, a faint odor of musky sweat and a
suspiciously fishy taint reached his most discerning nose.
His lips curled,
before he puffed out a disgusted exhale. Taking a quick glance behind, it
wasn’t long before the material was brought before his face.
The silky fabric
was then pressed against his nose. A long inhale was taken, bringing with it
all the odors he had sensed before, amplified to a far greater intensity.
to be washed soon,” he noted to no one. Immediately, the smelly material was
dropped with little ceremony. The office man then trudged forward once more,
noting that the black material of his own pants appeared to hug his waistline
more tightly than before.
Andrew could only
discern the black outline of the clock, but didn’t have a chance to tell the
time. He trudged forward, making it to the side of the bed. A glance to his
side was met with the foot of the nightstand, with a thickness that challenged
even the mighty sequoia. This was also host to a small metal platform, with a
dark metal line leading up to the top of the stand.
It was here that
he had fully loosened his tie, before setting it upon the carpet, taking care
to hang it over one of the strands that had stuck out. A pale finger was
brought to his collar, and one-by-one, his white shirt was unbuttoned. He
worked carefully, lest he undid any of the threading as he made his way down.
The article was not merely set aside, he managed to fold over some of the
sleeves, before it too was set upon the carpet.
undershirt, belt, pants, shoes and socks were discarded in a similar manner,
each finding a designated strand of carpeting to balance upon. Andrew’s
physique was nothing impressive, as expected from an office worker. Yet his
strange, oversized lifestyle, and a methodical diet, allowed some semblance of
physical fitness. He was thin and lanky, yet there was evidence of wiry muscle
His wrists tensed
as he grabbed ahold of the overhung comforter. For a moment, he glanced towards
the nightstand lift again, before letting out a determined exhale.
provided plenty for him to grip. He could feel his shoulders, abdominals and
biceps ache, yet the pain of a good workout neither discouraged nor dismounted
him. Unlike the carpet, the comforter proved rather soft. The office worker
almost found himself falling asleep against it, yet the anxiety of falling from
such a height dampened such prospects.
With the grit of
his teeth, Andrew pulled himself over. A massive pillow lay before him, easily
the size of a house he could not afford. Running up against it, his hand traced
under, before touching a rather hard material. Grabbing a hold of it, he
inspected the hard cover book. It’s styling was simple, with a gold-emblazoned
word for its title, “The Silmarillion”.
Andrew had taken
a position on top of the mansion-sized pillow, completely absorbed in the
novel. Hours passed by, drawing the room into eventual darkness. The light of
the billboard-esque clock, which read “11:32”, allowed him to continue reading.
It was not long before he heard a couple of thunderous thuds from the kitchen.
Dark eyes tore themselves away from the novel, towards the entrance to the
adjacent room. The door remained closed, yet he could observe a moving shadow
from the light that lay visible underneath.
A loud creak was
heard, and the massive monolith of polymers moved. The bedroom was flooded with
incandescent kitchen light. A humanoid shadow blocked the way, filling in the
doorway from floor to ceiling.
There was a heavy
rustle as the figure made its way in. Earth-shaking thumps softened as massive
feet rolled over the ragged carpet. From the shape of the hips, and the curves
of the torso, which were somewhat hidden beneath baggy denim, it was easy to
assume the newcomer was female.
In an instant,
the heavy jacket that adorned this woman was thrown aside. In a massive heap,
it crumpled, giving off a loud rumble as it impacted the ground. With another
motion, her legs kicked off the loosened jeans that bound them. Warm light
caught curvy, bulging limbs, and smooth, slightly tanned skin.
The pants also
landed with a powerful thump. Andrew heard a small chuckle. Her voice was low,
gritty, yet possessed a distinctly feminine timbre. The discarded nylon shorts
that had caused him some trouble before were whisked off the floor, before
sliding up the massive pillars of leg the woman possessed.
Her shadow was
cast over its singular, small occupant as she approached the bed. Andrew caught
an off-white tank top that hugged tightly across her chest area, before falling
loosely over her waist. He heard nothing but the rustle of heavy footfalls and
tired breathing. With a snap, he closed his book, setting it down carefully
upon the bedsheets.
There was a loud
thud, and a great tremor that shook the bed. Andrew let out a surprised yelp as
he was launched into the air, making it to ten feet before falling back down.
The squishy pillow managed to absorb the impact, preventing what damage could have
been caused if the surface was far less forgiving. Brazenly, had the woman
leapt onto the bed. So desperate for rest was she, that the other occupant had
slipped beneath her notice. But, Caitlin was not always the most graceful of
For a brief
moment, there was silence. Andrew could no longer see the alarm clock, for the
massive form of the woman had blocked it out. What little light were was that
originated from the kitchen allowed him to discern deep auburn hair which fell
over a young, slightly freckled face. A steel gray pupil, almost obscured by a
heavy eyelid had turned to acknowledge him, an eye which would have put to
shame many large flat-screens he could care less to put in his budget.
As soon as she
had settled down, he heard and felt, heavy breathing. Its powerful cadence was
almost enough to lull her to sleep. Andrew took the time to slide down the
pillow, the pillow he now shared with this titan. Keeping an eye on the eye
that was in danger of closing, he opened his mouth.
“Long day eh?”
He received a
rumbling “Mmmmmh” that vibrated the material beneath. Andrew folded his arms,
doubting he could be observed in the shadows. He still felt such an action
would make an impact.
placebo, or an actual result, Caitlin’s face wrested itself from the grip of
the soft pillow. “Five demolitions,” she explained “Messy cleanup.”
Andrew’s own dark
eyes traveled from her face, down her exposed neck, to a breast tightly
compressed within the dirty tank top. Thought it was late at night, and he had
to be in the office by 5 in the morning the next day, the man could feel his
“Need me to help
you unwind?” he suggested, attempting to sound as innocuous as possible.
A loud yawn
blasted through the night. The woman’s voice had become even lower than before.
Bass registers rumbled, rattling Andrew’s bones. Hot, moist air teased his
skin, while the odor of onion mixed with human musk assaulted the senses.
Despite this, he remained enthused.
“Are you going to
shower?” he asked, wiping his nose.
rustling the sheets. “Tomorrow.”
“Well, I ought to
get some of that gunk off now,” he suggested. Andrew felt his bare feet trace a
circle upon the bed sheets. His arms, which had been folded once before, were
now clutched behind his back. Eyes that had been so focused keenly upon the
massive form before him were now averted from her tired gaze.
Upon his offer,
steel colored eyes harshly zeroed in on the man, as the brow’s upon her face
began to furrow. Yet, beset with such intensity, Andrew could only muster a
mischievous smile, and grow even more enthusiastic.
husband,” Caitlin declared, her harsh glare beginning to soften, “not my
“I’m doing this
for both of us. You’ll stink up the bed if I don’t.” he sheepishly justified.
One of his hands began to rub the back of his head, beginning to undo his
“Too late for
that,” she stated. Caitlin’s own eyes now had taken care to not stare at
Andrew, but focus on the bedsheets below. In a far more quiet, not to mention
timid voice, she continued, “but I suppose you might as well …”
The man had
already begun eagerly making his way down. As he trekked over the comforter, he
felt his progress slow as each step sunk into the soft fabric. A dark eye
veered back to his wife. Even on her back, she exceeded the height of most
houses. Of course, some areas reached higher than others, as he so lecherously
Andrew made it past
her dirty white tank top, and was currently walking alongside her waist. He
brought himself closer to her position, close enough to where he was but an
arm’s length away. The temperature had notably rose, and the faint sweaty odor
that he had detected when she first entered, became rather overpowering.
There was a shift
in the nylon, a ripple as Caitlin attempted to make herself more comfortable.
Her husband staggered as a result, requiring a steady hand against her
monolithic thigh to regain balance. He was able to maintain contact, even as he
progressed down to the point where her shorts no longer covered her skin.
He continued to
trace his hand against the skin, even as Caitlin allowed herself to remain
still. Her flesh was firm and taught, and if he pressed further, he would
detect sinewy muscle that had been well worked. Yet, the skin upon her leg was
smooth, more so than the slightly dirty wooden floors and a lot more pleasant
than the coarse, rough irritating carpet fibers of the bedroom.
In minutes, he
had left the thigh behind, and moved adjacent to her calf. The man had adjusted
to the steep indent his wife left by her sheer mass. Such weight was
formidable, easily lethal to men whom would be considered physical juggernauts,
of which Andrew himself was not. Yet, he continued to tease danger, tracing his
hand all the way to Caitlin’s ankle. By then, the skin there was dry, and
lacked the waxy smoothness of her thigh. Yet, Andrew was not deterred in the
Rounding by the
ankle, he was now face to face with her heel. His wife’s foot was a structure
in of itself, easily exceeding several stories. Scaling it would have been a
strenuous adventure, comparable to climbing smaller cliff faces. Even a good
amount of expertise and effort would have been required to even make it past
As he traced his
hand against the heel, Andrew detected many bumps and callouses. A nose was
brought against the thick skin. A deep inhale took in dirty, pungent odors. In
any other instance, he would have forced to upchuck his dinner after
experiencing such a scent. But now, he could only stand erect, determined to
treat his wife well.
motions his hands moved. Some dryer skin flaked off as he rubbed. A cheek was
brought against her heel, his softer skin giving way to the tougher surface.
The bedroom was relatively cold, as they were still in the winter months. Thus,
feet warmed from an entire day in heavy boots proved a comfort to him.
As he worked on
her heel, he felt his tongue slip out, and sampled the salty humidity still
trapped upon it. Such cuisine would have been fit for the most desperate of
street urchins. For Andrew, it was priceless. He stood even more erect, as to
not miss a patch of skin.
Caitlin felt her
tendon’s and muscles loosen upon her serviced foot. Andrew’s cool touch caused
her to let out a small exhale, blowing out the labors of the day she had
endured. Yet, this was followed by a frustrated grunt, as she thought to
herself, Dang it, I did need this. But Andrew needs to sleep …
And even as her
foot was able to cool down from Andrew’s efforts, something within her had
begun to warm.
There was a
pause, and she felt Andrew walk away. Immediately, did her spirits dampen. Her
foot felt hollow, as if a piece was missing. However, she was keen enough to
hear the small patters of Andrew’s walking, as he ventured towards her other
couple of minutes, Caitlin could only bask in the small, yet refreshing
sensation of her husband servicing her tired heels. She would feel a spike of
warmth for every small prickly lick against the skin. Unconsciously, she had
begun to bite down on her lower lip.
It was still an
unpleasant surprise when Andrew stopped again. Gazing upwards, he eyed the five
digits that lay above, bathed in faint incandescent light. He felt his arms
fold, debating if he had enough strength to make it to the top.
He shook his
head. Leaning to the side, he cupped his hands over his mouth, before shouting,
“Mind putting your toes down? That’s where the real nasty stuff is.”
His small voice
traveled far, and was received crystal clear by gigantic ears. Caitlin let out
a sigh, before muttering, “Honestly, by the time were done, you’re going to
acknowledged Andrew, keeping his eyes upon the toes, “but I’m not going to be
contaminating an area the size of a football field.”
relieved that her massive foot blocked out the view of her face. Her eyes
rolled, and if she wished it, they could have traveled back into her skull.
“Really underselling me there honey.”
Her knee, once
flat upon the comforter, now rose. To Andrew, it was as if he were witnessing
the ascension of a newly christened hill. As such, he had to watch the colossal
foot he was once up against, retreat from him, compelled by an overwhelming
force. Such an event provoked excitement, equivalent to watching elephants or
dinosaurs move; a pure fascination with how something massive and monolithic
moved with graceful ease.
By bending her
legs, Caitlin was able to bring her toes down to the comforter. Unconsciously,
they flexed, giving off the impression of some lovecraftian monstrosity
beginning to move. Cool air seeped between them, allowing the giantess a brief
refreshing sensation, though nothing what could prepare her for what followed.
Here we go again, thought Andrew as he approached the
first set of toes he had set to service. The putrid odor he had so judiciously
absorbed just moments before only intensified.
Each digit proved
formidable; her large toe was just outmatched by a large sedan, while the other
toes could be compared to far more economical vehicles, much like his own Honda
Civic. Andrew himself was taller than her big toe; it only came up to his chin.
He bent down,
taking in the odor wafting from the space between her big and second toes.
There was a strong vinegary quality that seared his nostrils. Both hands braced
upon a toe. He laid his left on the greatest of the digits, while his right lay
on the second.
His second course
had begun, as his tongue lapped up the grotesque sweat which had fermented all
day within heavy socks and bulky boots. The hands that held him up began moving
in circles, creating clear indents within the bony extremities.
Andrew veered to
the second toe, his tongue servicing it more frequently. He had taken his feet
off of the bed sheets, and had fully mounted his wife’s foot. Now his knees lay
suspended on the big toe, while he attended to the second. A tremor was sent
into his chest as his wife wiggled her toes by pure instinct, almost unseating
Deciding to move
on, he pushed forth, eyeing the space between the second and the third, but a
large dark shape caught his attention. He reached out with both hands, yanking
out of the gap. What he held was a wrinkled, mangled ball of black fabric. The
smell of course, was incomprehensible.
Caitlin had begun
to notice that the crushing exhaustion that had thrown her into the bed had
begun to lift. She especially perked up once she felt the quaint tickle of
Andrew’s lips graze her toes.
nearly an eternity as her husband continued to kiss, lick and rub her toes,
even as the old layers of pungent sweat were replenished. Once again, he had to
trek across to reach the other foot, so that the toes upon that pedal
monstrosity would not go neglected.
As before, he
threw himself on top of the foot, not even bothering to tease the matter with a
light message. Andrew headed straight for the sticky, fermented perspiration
coating the toes and in-between. The office man was better prepared to handle
his wife’s instinctual flexing and bending of the toes this time around. He
rose and fell with each digit, even embracing one to stay attached. By his
actions, Caitlin was made explicitly aware of her husband’s enthusiasm for this
At last, Andrew
had finished. The feet were as wet and smelly as before, yet he could tell his
services were no longer required. Looking past the gargantuan ankle, he began
making his way up her leg.
“I’m done here,”
he announced, “Now the pits.”
“You walked right
past them,” Caitlin pointed out. Despite this, her tired arms rose, until they
were tucked behind her head, compressing her thick brown hair.
Andrew nodded as
he continued, once more admiring the shadow of the immense leg. “I like to work
my way back,” he explained. He then began his trek back, going up the length of
her foot, making past her ankle to her calf.
slow, initially. His wife’s calf was smooth, with only spare hairs to grip on.
This became less of a problem, for Caitlin would see to it. Akin to a river
bridge lowering to reconnect the road after a passing ship had gone by, her leg
had begun to sink down back into the comforter. Andrew too, felt his stomach
sink along with the incline. As the angle had become less daunting, Andrew
found it easier to stand on his two feet.
His pace was
brisk upon her leg. Even the obstructing plateau of Caitlin’s knee cap was not
much of a challenge to climb over. However, as the plain of flesh widened on
her thigh, he had begun to slow for far different reasons. Once he had reached
the edge of his wife’s loose fitting sport shorts, Andrew had come to a stop.
One hand gingerly
gripped the edge. He lifted, similar to how one would lift a tarp. The man was
met with a massive heat wave, a blast of muggy air strong enough to knock him
flat. It arrived with a strong stench of a far different kind. All of this only
elicited a mischievous smirk from him, as he gazed into what lay beyond, up his
“What are you
doing?” Caitlin inquired, with a knowing inflection. She had attempted to sound
annoyed, but felt as if insufficient effort was put in to make such a phony
previewing,” Andrew answered in the most matter-of-fact way he could. The heat
and humidity had begun to make him sweat, and as such, he wished to bathe in
murmured, feeling hot blood rush to her cheeks, and other organs within, “I
don't mind if you dive right in, but I won't be able to help you out. I'm as
sleepy as a sloth.”
preview.” he ejaculated.
At this, Caitlin
rolled her eyes. She also bit her lip once more.
his hold upon the shorts, and begun to climb on top of the material. His neck
strained as he forced himself to look at what was ahead of him, lest wandering
eyes lead him away from his destination. A deep dark valley, obscured so
selfishly by silky fabric, tempted him with wild detours.
Still, he pressed
onward. Soon, smooth nylon transitioned to soft skin. There was a sizable
portion of exposed flesh in the expanse between the shorts and her tank top.
Caitlin’s belly button was slightly visible, for her top had ridden upwards. It
had been surrounded by small, organized hills of taut abdominal musculature.
Here, Andrew had
ceased once more, thought he did not attempt to pry open the waistband of his
wife’s shorts. Instead, his gaze was focused northward. Despite making it to
her torso, he could not behold his wife’s face, for something, or two, had
mountain I’m not climbing tonight.” he commented.
veered off to the side, sliding down the skin of his wife’s midriff. The
comforter made for a soft landing, although he had to roll to fully minimize
the impact. Once re-situated, the man had broken into a small jog, for his
destination was straight ahead.
estrogen-tainted odor dominated his senses. Andrew found the area here more
humid than in the foot. As he made it to under Caitlin’s shoulder, he could
observe the area of interest covered with slick, short, curly hairs. Only
flashes of wrinkled flesh could be caught between the maze of wiry fibers.
As with the feet,
Andrew thrust his head into just below the center of Caitlin’s armpits. Even
more perspiration coated his already soaked hair. His body was brought against
the area as well, forcing its way through twisted fibers, attempting to come
into contact with as much of her underarm flesh as possible. For a moment, the
bushel of axilla threatened to completely swallow him in.
“Hold on, fire in
Andrew broke from
his trance, hearing his wife’s voice booming from the outside of his little
world. There was a shift in the bedsheets, as she had lifted her legs.
A sound of
thunderous flatulence bellowed out from beyond. The man could have sworn he
felt the bed vibrate as his wife dispensed with all other grotesque odors
caught within her system. Luckily, she had directed the wind away from him, so
only the faintest scent of crappy emissions hindered him. Of course,
considering his current predicament, the smell would have gone on unnoticed.
on, taking in pints upon pints of salty liquid caught in his wife's hairy
underarms. In many ways, he could have compared it to a rather pungent oasis
that no desert traveler would partake in, lest they were on the brink of death.
Yet, like an unexpected spring of water in barren lands, each drop sent a new
spark of life within him.
He pressed even
further, as if he were trying to become one with the moist flesh. Some of his
hands unconsciously twirled a wayward hair, whose thickness could have been
mistaken for a small rope. His hair at this point was no longer neatly slicked
back, but had become soaked, tangled and messy, falling over his face on
briefly for a fresh breath of air, Andrew’s head was reintroduced to the sweaty
underarm far sooner than he had expected. An unrelenting force had pressed him
in, deforming the skin so that it folded around him. Slick hairs molested his
body as he had been compelled by this same force to travel across the vast
terrain of the odorous armpit in a circular motion. Movement quickened, and he
became short of breath. In his heart of hearts, he wished it would last an
A mere finger of
Caitlin’s was the only digit required to trap Andrew against her underarm. Her
heart raced like an accelerating drumbeat. She could feel her ribcage rattle as
her heart furiously worked to arouse her senses. The sensation of her husband
pressed into her armpit had sent her into a frenzy. Closing her eyes, she could
feel her breathing only becoming more desperate as she applied even more force
to the area.
managed to catch herself. A brief vision of her underarm hairs stained blood
red was the only thing that stopped her. In the dark, she knew her cheeks had
been flushed beet red, in a volatile mixture of embarrassment at her own
actions, as well as something else she would be addressing in a moment’s
As Andrew lay in
a forest of axilla, beaten and exhausted, he could only think to himself, the
things I do for love.
From the infernal
pits, he was lifted, held captive by an index finger and a thumb. Of such great
girth were these members, that they had nearly engulfed his frame, leaving only
his chest and head visible from above, and his knees from below. There was a
slight restrictive compressing within his diaphragm from the applied force of
both digits, yet he was sure his wife was attempting to be as gentle as
possible. Were her desires far more malicious, the grinding of organs and the
crushing of bones would only require a minuscule effort. It was this thought
that reminded Andrew that, despite the ride he had been taken upon before, he
was still quite erect with enthusiasm.
He was brought
before Caitlin’s face. Her hair was artfully splayed out, where if she were to
stand, it would fall messily down to her neck. Steel gray eyes pierced him with
such an intensity, he felt as if their mere glare would crush him before her
fingers would. Hungrily they focused on him, foreshadowing what was to come.
His view traveled
down her round nose, and to her slightly agape lips, an entrance to a maw that
would have made him a lesser snack. Yet, the hunger his wife experienced was
not of the sort that satisfied the stomach.
“You’ve done more
than enough there,” she declared, out of breath herself, “but there’s one more
place that need your attention.”
“Yeah, the other
side,” Andrew sheepishly suggested. But, all he was doing was delaying the
Caitlin shook her
head. Her mouth had closed, and sported a mischievous smirk. “Nope, wrong
words were not chosen so carefully, “I mean, if you wish, I could go anywhere.”
Caitlin felt her
heart skip a beat. “Your funeral.”
“Oh no...” was
all Andrew could vocalize. However, even though part of him was exhausted, the
other member he possessed still had some juice left.
“Lets expand on
that little preview you did, shall we?”
Night had fallen.
The stars were now fully visible. Yet, the large truck that maneuvered through
the neighborhood and to driver within, bright incandescent lights outshone the
vehicle was currently in the shadow of a more massive building. Multiple bins
of trash had been stacked neatly at its side. With little enthusiasm, the truck
driver maneuvered his truck, so that the carrying crane would retrieve one of
In an instant, he
began to feel a slight tremor. The truck driver’s eyes grew massive with
fright. In the distance, he heard a rhythmic pounding, and his head darted
around and about, attempting to locate the general epicenter of this unusual
He then heard a
scream, a woman’s scream that echoed with magnitude and intensity. Yet, this
was not the sound of despair. As realization dawned over him, the driver felt
his shoulder’s relax. A knowing smile crept across his face.
sniggered, as he continued his work undisturbed.
A loud klaxon had
shaken Caitlin from her slumber. Heavy eyelids rose, revealing a bright LED
display that read “4:30”. Reaching a lazy hand over, she slapped the top of the
clock, silencing its morning call.
murmurs, her head sunk back into the pillow, and she felt peaceful rest begin
to take over once more.
One detail kept
her conscious. Behind her head, upon Andrew’s area of the pillow where he
usually rested besides her, she could not hear a single rustle. Rolling over,
twisting bedsheets and comforters, she was greeted with the sight of empty
Caitlin let out a
sharp exhale and shot up, still seated within the bed. Alert eyes had begun to
systematically search the bed, glaring at the various folds and valleys for a
miniscule body, or even worse, a miniscule blood stain. Her heartbeat became as
a dreadful drumbeat within her chest, the perfect sound to her rising anxiety
as each passing second of the search proved fruitless.
With no sign of
her husband, Caitlin rotated to the side, allowing her feet to touch the carpet
below. That was when she figured out where Andrew had gone.
As she had
turned, she felt a peculiar bump within the depths of her shorts. A cautious
finger had begun probing the designated area, until she could feel the familiar
contour of her husband within the confines of the nylon.
It was then, when
Caitlin had recalled the last thing she had done before she had gone to sleep.
This particular memory saw the return of a mischievous smirk.
“Oh right,” she
could only say to herself.
Her finger then
gingerly brushed against the band of her pants. It then sunk even deeper,
sliding beneath the edge of her underwear. There was a slight sticky resistance
as she pulled both articles back.
the white strip of her panties lay Andrew. The surrounding area, however,
possessed an off color. Arms and legs moved, breaking away some sort of flaky
coating that had somehow adhered itself to him the previous night.
feel her face flush red once more as she admired the small shape of her husband
in the depths of her underwear. She could observe his head swivel, attempting
to ascertain his surroundings. Perhaps he too had difficulty with recollection.
At the sound of
her voice, Andrew’s head shot up. The environment was alien to him, the white
cloth he lay upon, the black background, and whatever strange ceiling lay right
above him, slick, red and covered with hair. He managed to catch a glimpse of
the thumb that had pulled back the canopy of his private prison.
While he knew
from where Caitlin spoke, he could not see her face, for something blocked his
responded, “Sleep was the only thing I could do after what you put me through.
Or, into more accurately.”
“I’m sorry … “
Caitlin apologized, turning her head away, “I got carried away.”
complaining,” Andrew reassured her.
His wife rolled
her eyes, even if her loving smirk never left her. She suppressed a giggle, for
that would only encourage him.
get you to the shower. You don't want the boys at work asking questions."
At this, Andrew
smirked, "I'm surprised you know what a shower is, stinky."
only sigh. She was slightly tempted to reintroduce her husband to his prison
for the night. However, she decided that such an action would have to wait
until after the workday was done.