Greg awoke before the two slumbering beauties on either side of him. He sighed, and stretched, and grinned broadly. Last night had been a lot of fun. He reflected that he wasn't scared of losing anymore. A million dollars for this experience? Hell, it was worth everything he owned, and more. If he lost, he thought he might offer to double his payout just to keep the suit.
And if he won....well, he'd damn well be keeping the suit, thank you very much.
He wondered if there were any others out there who'd experienced this, or even dreamed of experiencing this. Not the shrinkingSir George didn't crap this technology out of his ample ass.
But the sexmy God, it was better than anything he'd enjoyed beforeand he'd enjoyed quite a bit. He wondered if anyone else out there had considered how good it could be?
If not, he had some work cut out for himself, and if sowell, those were his peeps. He swore to himself that he'd make sure others got to experience this. It was too good for him to hoard.
That thought gave him pause; he wasn't used to selfless thoughts. Up until this trip, he'd primarily been interested in leveraging his fortune to purchase high-grade snatch. But now...well, he'd seen some women in situations that weren't exactly perfect, and he'd helped them in some small way.
And it felt good. He liked helping. He liked that he'd been able to help Anna through her crisis of faith. He liked that his mere presence had helped these two connect.
He was enjoying doing for others. And he realized that he could enjoy this all much more if he won the billion dollars.
What could he do with that? He didn't know yet. But if he won this, he was going to do something for others.
And if he lost? He lost. He wasn't afraid.
And that made him a tremendously dangerous competitor.
* * *
It was Heather who stirred first, a slow rumble and stretch, followed by bleary, hungover eyes opening and looking across the bed at her naked friend.
There was the slightest of frowns as Heather replayed the events of the night before, followed by a growing, expansive grin. She wasn't quite ready to give up on boys altogetherthere was something to be said for the rougher sexbut Andrea, and more to the point, Andrea's tongue had been quite persuasive.
And something told Heather that her friend wouldn't need a lot of cajoling to find a guy to hang withjust to spice things up.
Here I am, thinking like we're married or something, thought Heather as she smiled at her newfound lover. Then again, she realized, why would that be so weird? They'd shared over a decade together. They were close friends. Perhaps they could get married, someday.
Would that really be so odd?
She leaned over and stroked her friend's hair, causing the little man on the bed to jump backwards.
"Oops," she whispered, smiling at him. "Sorry 'bout that. I kinda forgot you were here."
"no worries," he said to her. "i was just getting up."
"What's that?" murmured Andrea.
"It's time to get up, beautiful," said Heather, quietly.
At that, Andrea's eyes popped open, as the previous night's events came to her in a rush.
She looked at her friend and lover, and smiled a somewhat sheepish grin. "Beautiful?"
And with that, she leaned over and kissed her friend, hard.
Moments later, she realized that she and Heather were sort of smooshing their diminutive friend. Rescuing him from his position between four breasts (a position he did not desire rescue from), the three of them regarded each other for a few minutes.
And thenwith a quick break to relieve themselvesthey were back at it for a good hour or so.
* * *
It was a little bit after one when they finally started saying their goodbyes.
The plan was foolproof; Heather had long-ago agreed to take Pat and Jenny to the airport with them. Their planes were leaving reasonably close to each other, and it just made sense. And from the moment that she had agreed to drive the newlyweds, she had been scheming with Andrea on what to sneak into their luggage.
The box was small enough to be slipped into the carry-on unnoticed, but full of all sorts of assorted condoms, dental dams, lubricants, and other sundry marital aids.
And, in a last-minute addition, a four-inch-tall man.
"I know it's not perfect," Heather said, "but hopefully you can sneak out once the flight's airborne. I just don't want them seeing youI mean, they just got married. They're going to be into themselves."
"That's the truth," said Andrea. "Let me tell you something, Mike," she said, using Greg's assumed name, "when Heather and I have our honeymoon, you are invited along."
"That a proposal?" asked Heather, with a sly smile?"
"Dear, when I propose to you I'm pulling out all the stops. But Mike, seriously, when you get unshrunk, please look us up. We like you. And whatever size you are, you're always welcome for a weekend getaway."
Greg swallowed. Hard. "don't worry," he said, "i'm not gonna pass up that opportunity."
The girls both kissed him sweetly, then placed him in the box. Before they closed it, they kissed each other sweetly, just to give him a little going-away present.
Greg was sorry to see the box lid close.
* * *
The drop went like clockwork. Heather and Andrea picked up Pat and Jenny and took them straight to the terminal; Andrea slipped the box into Jenny's carry-on while Heather distracted the two of them.
They didn't announce their couplehood quite yet; Heather and Andrea were very much in love, but they were also very much aware that this was going to raise the eyebrows of more than a few people. Their true friends would be surprised, but then would accept it; they weren't worried.
But it was going to be a shock, and they didn't want the happy couple to be distracted by thoughts of another happy couple.
But as Andrea was set to board her flight to Louisiana, she and Heather damn well did share a long and lingering goodbye kiss. And if anyone had a problem with it, the two women could've given a damn.
Soon enough, Andrea would move to Harrisburg; soon after, they'd both move out to Boston.
Their wedding would be one to remember.
But that is another story for another time.
* * *
Greg whiled away his time in the box, aware only of the occasional movement of the bag by the titanic bride. He had decided to wait and make his escape after take-off; once the bag was stowed under a seat or in the storage bin, he'd have a chance to navigate without fear of being jostled and having a bottle of Astroglide pin him down.
It wasn't a bad decision. Pat and Jenny were far to into talking about the upcoming trip to search their carry-ons for wildcat gifts. No, when Jenny parked the bag in the bin above her seat, Greg's patience had become a terrific decision.
As the plane taxied down the runway, Greg began to survey his surroundings. And he had a good idea of where he should go. He started to move, just in time for his vest to signal another size change.
And then, the plane took off, and Greg found himself pinned by G-forces, almost right up to the point when the vest counted down 3...2...1....
And the plane leveled just as he shrunk to four millimeters in height.
Greg surveyed the now cavernous box, with tennis-court sized condom wrappers and house-sized bottles of lube, and he sighed morosely.
After a few minutes of looking, he decided his best bet was to stay put. After all, even if he climbed out of the box, he'd be lost in an enormous carry-on with no easy way out. No, best just to wait for the lovebirds to get to the hotel. He'd escape there.
He hoped.
* * *
It was hours later before Pat and Jenny landed at McCarran International Airport. Happily, they grabbed their stuff and headed for the limousines. It was extravagant, surebut you only get married once.
They checked in at the Luxor with plenty of time to go out and get dinner, or go to a show, or play craps, or whatever else it was they wanted to do.
They intended to do none of that. Not tonight.
Instead, they went up to their room and, after throwing their bags to the side, proceeded to make out passionately for a little while.
After about ten minutes, Jenny whispered, "Let's get unpacked. I have something to show you."
She'd stowed away a rather devastating bra-and-pantie set in her carry-on; she hoped she could pull it off to Pat's liking. And besides, she'd seen Andrea slip something into her bag. If she knew the two of 'em, it had some good things for she and Pat to play with.
So she grabbed her carry-on and headed to the bathroom; five minutes later she came out, dressed in just enough red lace to cover a Barbie dollpositioned perfectly to accentuate her voluptuous beauty--and carrying a small red box.
"It looks like Andrea and Heather decided to give us another present. There's some fun stuff in there; you want to play with it?"
"As long as I get to play with those, too."
Jenny looked down at her breasts. "Oh, Patrick. I think they would like to play. They like you a whole bunch."
* * *
Greg, for his part, was well aware that he was in big trouble.
When the box lid opened, he hid himself under a huge bag of something. He looked out at the bride, and he hoped that she just happened to have noticed it; he hoped she'd be in an evening gown.
Instead, she was in a wisp of a bra, and he knew instantly that his little cubbyhole was going to be ground zero shortly.
He wasn't surprised when the couple dumped the box out onto the bed between them; it seemed about his luck. He found himself sitting on top of a packet of something, but thankfully obscured by a condom which provided a slight overhang. He hoped that the couple would find something else to entertain them.
He listened as the two discussed the relative merits of "warming" lubricant versus flavored condoms, when he heard the woman rumble something about candy.
"STRAWBERRY FLAVORED, THAT COULD BE INTERESTING...OH, AND THERE'S BUBBLEGUM!"
Greg heard the woman talking, and thought little of it, until he happened to glance down at the bubblegum pink package he sat on.
"Oh, shit," he said, as the condom was knocked away and the woman lifted the package carelessly. Greg clung helplessly as she tucked the packet and him into her hand and pulled the top off.
"I THINK WE SHOULD START WITH THIS, PAT. TRUST ME, YOU'LL ENJOY IT."
* * *
Pat loved his new wife, and she was certainly fun to play with. The only complaint he hadand it was a minor onewas that she didn't like to give him oral sex.
Oh, she'd do it. But she didn't like it much.
He was okay with that; she was pretty good with her hands.
But when she suggested he remove his pants so she could try out the bubblegum flavored candy on him, wellhe knew his wife was a nut for bubblegum.
He was fairly well aroused by the time she removed his underwear.
She licked him up and down, preparing his tumescent cock to have the candied sugar stick to it.
And then, when she was satisfied it was ready, she poured the package over his genitals, and began to give him the best blowjob he'd ever had.
* * *
Greg thought he was going to be okay for a moment.
The bag had been picked up by the giant woman, but she simply held itand himin her hand. For a moment, Greg actually thought he was going to avoid disaster.
But then, abruptly, she turned her hand over and began to pour several tons of sugar down into infinity.
Her hand was slightly moist from perspirationjust enough for Greg to be unable to stay secured. Instead, he slid out of her hand and quickly joined the rivulet heading toward a towering phallus below.
"Oh, shiiii...." he cried, as he fell into a thicket of wiry hair.
He was just north of a guy's junk.
Disgusting.
He looked up at the towering cock, and saw that the sugar covered it, glistening pink in the dim light. Suddenly, the woman descended upon it and ravenously devoured it.
Greg held fast; he watched in awe as the woman's mouth slipped over and back on the cock. He was quite certain that she was giving him a lot of pleasure. She kept at it, and Greg was starting to feel somewhat safe.
That was a mistake. After a while, the woman pulled off of the cock and began licking it. She started on the other side, worked her way to the tip, then back down....
He didn't think she'd come all the way down, but her tongue slid into the hair and caught Greg dead-center, and suddenly, he was being lifted up by a massive muscle, and then, suddenly, they were careening down toward the cock.
They hit with powerful force, and he was quickly dislodged. He did anything he could to grab onto something solid, which was all relative given the heat and the suction and the pulsating tower and her saliva and teeth...but he found himself holding on to something, and then, suddenly, that something began to quiver and pulse and then, suddenly, it began to pump regularly and quickly, and a towering fountain of white burst forth.
He was just south of it, but he quickly found himself covered in the goo. He panicked, and fumbled for the recall button....
...only to find himself suddenly spit into a massive kleenex.
He gasped for breath as the kleenex was wantonly tossed into a waste basket along with its tiny passenger. This was not at all the way he expected to enter Las Vegas.
* * *
It took him the better part of the night to make it out.
If the can had been metal, he never would've stood a chance. But it was plastic, and better yet, had a can liner; the going was slow, but he was patient.
Besides, halfway through, he grew to three inches tall. That made it a snap to get out.
Now, it was nearing morning. The giant couple hadn't left the room all night, and he was trying to figure out the best way to escape. After a while, he gave up. He was here. He had four days to make it to his destination. And he was going to win this thing.
He tucked himself into a corner of the room and dozed off. The billion was as good as his.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the early morning light, Sir George was in a foul mood.
The bloke had made it to Vegas. He had to hand it to him; he never thought the young punk would make it this far.
But Sir George had a few plans up his sleeve. He'd put them into effect soon. He was not going to lose a billion dollars.
He played to win.
Giantess World
