Amy stood in front of the bathtub, considering. Her eyes darted between the drain and her husband, her brain doing quick measurements. “Be right back, babe,” she said while placing Steve down gently on the counter next to the bathroom sink. She headed into their kitchen, rifling through the hodgepodge drawer of larger kitchen utensils. Moving spatulas and ladles out of the way, she found what she was looking for near the bottom: a strainer. The sieve grating on it was fine enough that Steve probably couldn’t even manage to get a hand stuck in it, let alone slip his entire body through. It was used primarily for straining pulp out of juice. This should work perfectly, Amy thought while taking note of the strainer’s round shape.

She walked back into the bathroom, affixing the strainer just above the drain at the bottom of the bathtub.

“Wow…good thinking, Ames,” Steve said from his perch atop the counter.

Amy turned around and looked at him, an annoyed question in her eyes. “What’s the ‘wow’ for?”

“Just that, uh, I wouldn’t have thought of it!” Steve answered quickly.

“Uh huh,” Amy responded flatly. Permanently convinced he’s the smartest person in the room. The same dynamite attorney that had won the MicroMD case had also managed to shrink himself to an inch tall. Book smart…maybe, she thought while smirking inwardly.

She started running the hot water, flipping the switch on top of the tub faucet to redirect the stream out of the showerhead. Placing her hands on her hips, she frowned.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Steve asked.

“I’m trying to figure out the best way to do this. Maybe I should just get you a little cup of hot water and squirt some body wash into it and you can take it from there. Even with the drain issue sorted, this seems…dangerous, somehow.”

“Booooooo!” Steve jeered at her. “That is WAY less fun. Just cup your palm and if it gets tricky, I’ll stand on the soap tray.”

“Steve, the stream from the shower alone could probably blast you out of my hand. I’m one bad slip away from rinsing your paste off the bottom of the tub.”

She saw his cheeks flush a bit as he turned away from her, his hands blocking the view of his crotch. Oh come on, how is THAT arousing? I literally just said I was gonna smash him to paste. She recalled, however, the peculiars of her husband’s giantess fetish. Suddenly, it seemed less surprising to her. He was into all kinds of stuff. He had asked her to step on his face while he laid on the floor or sit on his face while they were in bed together, simulating the crush aspect of the macrophilia. I will truly, truly, never understand the appeal.

Amy unzipped her hoody and placed it on the counter near the sink, bending down afterward to peel the still-damp socks off her feet. She glanced up at Steve and saw his eyes move from her bent-over butt to her now exposed toes. The butt thing I get. The feet thing will always be a mystery to me. She felt her cheeks flush under the attentive observation. She had stripped down in front of him hundreds of times over the course of their relationship. Why did this feel different? More…intimate? It’s because it feels like the first time, she realized. Everything he saw about her was in a completely new light. She suddenly felt self-conscious, not knowing what her body looked like from this new perspective for her husband. Maybe those wrinkles she convinced herself she saw in the mirror every morning were magnified a hundred-fold. Maybe the little paunch on her abdomen (which was, in actuality, non-existent) stuck out more.

Never missing a chance to dial up the flirtation, Steve smirked as he saw her blushing and turning away from him. “Awwww, Ames, that’s so cute. You’re shy again.”

“Shut it mister, or I’m filling the sink and letting you take it from there. I’m already nervous about this shower thing,” she responded. Inwardly, however, she was smiling faintly. The playfulness was reminiscent of the beginnings of their relationship, when Steve was a nobody with big dreams and she was along for the ride. Could this actually end up being good for us? Amy immediately chastised herself for the thought. Her husband was now entirely dependent on her, and every day of his life would be rife with mortal peril, at least until they found a solution. It felt a little selfish to be getting a rise out of the situation, but at the same time, Steve was clearly having fun with it.

She removed her tank top and leggings next and, taking note of the sweat under her breasts, felt self-conscious once again. Steve, on the other hand, was practically drooling. His eyes were bugging out of his head so much that they brought to mind a cartoon wolf salivating over a pretty woman. The look gave her the confidence boost she needed. She smirked at him and slowly, ever so slowly, peeled the sports bra off.

“Let me lick it…” Steve asked.

“Lick what?” Amy inquired with genuine confusion.

“The sweat under your tits….let me lick it.”

“Okay, nope. Nope! You’re being gross again. Not a chance in hell,” she responded. But as she went to place her sports bra with the rest of her discarded clothing, a playful whim entered her mind and, instead, she threw it at Steve, burying him under the damp cloth. She took that opportunity to slip out of her underwear as well, at last fully nude. She approached the sink and gently lifted up the sports bra, only to see Steve laying on his back clutching the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply as though he were a drowning person cresting the surface of the ocean for the first time in minutes. It was harder to make out details with his current size, but she could’ve sworn she saw a flash of pink as his tongue darted out of his mouth.

But then he noticed that he was discovered, and quickly relinquished his grasp of the fabric, instead standing straight in genuine awe of his colossus of a wife. The girl who had to stand on her tippy toes just to kiss him now dominated his point of view like a sunrise. No makeup, she had bags under her eyes from the stress and lack of sleep, her hair a tangled mess that was still damp with sweat, complimented by a sheen of sweat giving her body an oily glisten. To Steve, his wife had never looked more beautiful.

Of course, Amy caught him ogling her voraciously. It’s not like he made any attempt to hide it. Her confidence was bolstered even further, seeing Steve’s small (but massive at his size) erection standing at full attention. Amy decided to lean wholesale into the moment. She bent down so that her nipples almost made contact with the sink, looking Steve dead in the eye as her gaze narrowed and she smirked at him.

“You know,” she said while moving her open palm over his head, hanging like an executioner’s axe, “I could squash you like a bug in an instant. I’ve killed roaches twice your size by accident,” she said in a sultry whisper as she lowered her palm enough to make contact with his hair. She leaned in so close that her breath washed over his naked form. “I could’ve fit 10 of you on my toast this morning, and you know what the crazy part is? I would’ve still been hungry,” she breathed at him, her voice barely above a whisper.

As though he were under a spell (and perhaps he was, of sorts), Steve slowly walked forward with his hands extended, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers over her plush lips and climb inside the moist warmth of her mouth. But just as he extended his arm, she backed away and stood up.

“Uh-uh-uh,” she taunted him while wagging a mocking finger, “this Goddess doesn’t eat trash.” She hadn’t even touched him yet, and Steve was on the cusp of bursting. This is wayyyyyyy too easy, she thought.

“In other words, I ain’t licking your dirty ass. Hop on,” she said while extending her hand, palm upward as a platform. Still in a sexual stupor, Steve ambled forward and practically collapsed in Amy’s hand. Reveling in the effect she clearly was having on him, Amy couldn’t resist a little more teasing. She closed her fingers around his diminutive form, clenching her fist gently as she lifted it to her mouth and whispered between her fingers, “one squeeze….that’s all it would take.”

She heard a faint groan and felt a touch of liquid warmth on her palm. She immediately unclenched her first and looked at a red-faced, thoroughly-embarrassed Steve, witnessing his erection dwindling slowly. “Jesus babe, you came from that? I guess one squeeze really is all it takes,” she said with a playful grin. “At least this is way less of….uh…a mess.”

“Oh, don’t worry Ames,” Steve responded, “I’ve got plenty more in me if you’re gonna keep this up.”

“No promises…bug.” Amy couldn’t help herself throwing that one last jibe out. And she was not surprised in the slightest when she saw his member twitch to life once more. With that, she stepped into the shower.

------------------------------------------

Dear sweet Mother of God does this woman know how to push all the right buttons, Steve thought to himself. Already he felt the flickering in his loins when Amy carried him into the shower. After his ordeal in her sneaker, the hot water immediately felt good on his raw, red skin, and he felt like he could feel the layers of filth washing off him. From his perch on Amy’s palm, he glanced upward and saw a look of careful deliberation on her face.

“What’s the hold up babe, I’m ready to be your sponge!” Steve hollered up at her over the sound of the rushing water.

“First of all, no, you’re gross. Again. Second, I’m trying to think of the best way to do this,” she responded.

“Just do what you’d normally do, but with one hand,” Steve suggested.

“Duh, that part I had worked out already. I’m talking about YOU,” Amy said while looking him over. He could practically see the gears turning in her head before she announced, “alright, got it.”

Amy reached over to the bottle of body wash and pumped out a tiny dollop on her thumb. She then pinched Steve’s body between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing him up and down gently but firmly. It wasn’t lost on Steve that she only had to move her fingers slightly to cover his whole body. He felt his arousal grow even more as her thumb brushed over his genitals, easily bringing him to a solid half-mast. Amy, of course, noticed immediately, and sighed.

“Lift your arms up,” she instructed. He complied as she continued to use her thumb and finger to scrub his miniscule form.

“What about, you know, down there?” Steve asked with clear suggestion in his voice.

“Nuh uh, you have hands. Use them. I’m not jerking you off twice in 2 minutes, and I’m certainly not playing with your butt.”

“Rats, can’t blame a guy for trying,” Steve responded. He saw Amy was smiling, genuinely, for what felt like the first time since this whole ordeal started. He found himself smiling in response. They had nothing even approaching normalcy at the moment, but they had at least achieved some level of rapport and understanding.

Amy then pumped out a tiny dollop of shampoo and smudged it on his mop of hair, similar to how a mother would lick her finger to scrub dirt off her child’s cheek. He took it from there, lathering and rinsing himself off. Amy then began to clean herself with the rough, exfoliating loofah sponge she loved using. Thank God she didn’t use that. That thing fucking hurts. I don’t get it.

Steve still couldn’t help but watch in awe as Amy cleaned herself off, the mundane activity she had done countless times in his presence suddenly taking on new meaning. Watching everything happen at this scale was like being in a domed IMAX theater. Her eyes were closed as she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, but shortly thereafter she cracked one open and saw him gawking. He seized his opportunity.

“You know, that sponge offer is still on the table. I won’t hurt your skin like that masochistic self-flagellation device you insist on inflicting on yourself daily,” Steve coaxed.

Amy’s eyes narrowed briefly as though she were actually considering it, before she sighed and he saw the hesitation. “Steve, I appreciate that we’re having fun. It’s just…well…the way you’ve been lately doesn’t exactly make me feel…wanted. It makes me feel like I’m not enough unless you’re so drunk your urges take over.” She knew he hated it when she asked insecure, inane questions like this, but she couldn’t help asking: “am I still…pretty?”

Steve was shocked. Is she fucking serious? I can’t be in the same room as her without popping a boner. Where is this coming from? But then he saw the look of shy concern on her face, perhaps even a little fear of the answer that would be forthcoming. Have I really made her feel that way? He replayed recent weeks in his head, realizing for the first time that he had stopped kissing her goodbye on her way out the door each morning, had stopped talking to her at night when they lay in bed, hadn’t taken her out for dinner, hadn’t spent time with her meaningfully unless it was to gratify himself. And she was right, those moments were basically only when he was drunk. Fuck, I’ve been a bit of an ass, haven’t I?

“Ames, I wish you could hear what’s going through my head right now. Maybe retiring this early wasn’t the right call. I thought it was what I wanted, but I thought it would lead to us spending more time together, at least time together outside of the office. But you’re right; it seems to have made things worse. The simple fact of the matter is this: I’m in awe of you each day. You can’t leave a room without me following you like a lovesick puppy. And just before, when I was standing on the sink, I realized that you had never looked more beautiful to me. Somehow, you’re more gorgeous than the day I met you, and that’s saying something. So no, you’re not ‘still pretty.’ You are, and always have been, much, much more than that.”

He saw her tearing up as he told her how he felt. “Thank you for saying that,” she responded sincerely. “I felt like I wasn’t enough for you anymore.”

“Well, if you weren’t enough for me before, you certainly are now, Queen Kong,” he quipped at her.

“Watch it mister,” Amy replied as she gave him a playful poke that knocked him on his butt. “I’m no sniper, but I’m pretty sure I can sink you in the toilet with a shot from here,” she said as her eyes glanced outside the shower.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Steve said with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, just…ew. Nope, nope, nope. No golden showers, no Cleveland Steamers, no blumpkins, none of that nasty stuff you’re inexplicably into.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Babe, do you even know what a blumpkin is?”

“I know it has something to do with a toilet, and therefore whatever it is, it’s disgusting and vile.”

“Hey…don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Steve responded.

“You can NOT be fucking serious right now,” Amy said with an apparent look of disgust.

“I’m not, I’m not. Just messing around,” Steve conceded. “That said, I can definitely clean you better where the sun doesn’t shine than that sponge. Small hands and all that,” he offered half seriously.

“Hun, I am not putting your inch tall self anywhere near my butthole, so get that idea out of your head right now.”

Darn. “Well, worth a shot at least,” he said while maintaining his grin. “We gotta have some fun though, right?”

Amy rolled her eyes and sighed in genuine exasperation. “Okay fine, we can, er, fool around a little.”

Steve started jumping up and down like a 5-year-old on Christmas morning.

“Just stop doing…whatever that is,” Amy chided.

Steve visibly forced himself to calm down. I still can’t believe we’re doing this. Like, yes, life is deeply fucked up for both of us right now, but I’m quite literally living the dream.

With that, Amy cupped Steve in her hand and began to move him toward her chest.

---------------------------------------

Amy had second thoughts. In her head, every miniscule, perceived flaw would undoubtedly be exacerbated a thousandfold with Steve’s new perspective. But, she felt buoyed by his comments from earlier.

Guess we might as well do this, she thought.

She moved her hand containing her tiny husband in front of her right breast, letting him take over from there. I’ll bet I’m just one big playground to him right now. Still concerned about dropping him, she kept a close eye on him as she watched him stand reverently and slowly walk toward her nipple.

He reached out and gave it the slightest caress. With the tremendous size discrepancy, Amy barely felt it. But in an area that sensitive, her body responded nonetheless. She felt the nipple harden immediately under his touch.

He then reached out both hands, and began a circular massage of the areola, his touch sprouting goosebumps everywhere his hands moved. It was ticklish at first, but Amy resisted the urge to scratch at it and continued to let him do his thing. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation. You know, I could actually get used to this.

It felt more like a tease than actual foreplay, however. Subconsciously, her left hand moved up to her left breast and began a similar massage, albeit one that covered the whole tit. With her eyes closed, she didn’t even realize that her right hand had mimicked the movement until she heard muffled grunts. Her eyes flew open in shock as she saw that she was pressing Steve into her nipple. She immediately relented.

“Oh my God, babe, I’m so sorry!” she said with a tinge of panic.

“Don’t be,” Steve responded with his trademark lopsided grin, “that was fucking great.”

She knew he got off on asphyxiation. He was quite tall, at least he used to be, and even though she had a noticeable bubble butt, her frame was very petite. When he would ask her to sit on his face, a request she always felt uncomfortable indulging, she could usually still see his chin from her perch. But she always noticed that he went rock hard the moment his face was buried between her cheeks. He would even urge her, on occasion, to smother him. It was tough to do at her size, but she usually tried to accommodate. She always felt weird doing it though.  

Shortly after Steve had retired, that particular sexual interest had reached a breaking point, of sorts. On one of the days she was working remotely, he had floated a deeply unhinged suggestion. He wanted his face to be her chair during a meeting. She had been dressed professionally from the waist up, but knowing his preference for soft pants when sitting on him, she was wearing her floral-patterned flannel pajama bottoms at the time. He had laid down on the couch, and she had perched over him holding her laptop before descending onto his face.

Steve’s primary pitch was that the added sense of naughtiness added something to it. The fact that she would be staring the rest of the law firm in the face over camera while her husband’s face was buried between her asscheeks. She had very, very reluctantly agreed to the proposal. She was deeply concerned about a wrong camera angle showing what was going on, or about her giving it away with a blush or look on her face, to the point where she moved all the mirrors in the house to another room and closed the curtains. Doing something so intensely private, albeit secretly, in a public setting had put her on edge. But she agreed that the added sense of taboo brought something new to the equation.

She remembered hoping that the meeting wouldn’t go long, as the lumps of his face, particularly his nose, touching her butthole was quite uncomfortable. The regular couch cushion was vastly preferable. It was to her surprise, then, that she actually kind of got into it. His nose touching her butthole, his hot breath on her vagina, the movement of his lips and chin as he teased her, knowing she couldn’t do anything about it after the meeting had already started it. She felt her face flushing, and started to grind into him a little bit, finding that she actually had enjoyed the stimulation more than usual.

And that’s where it went spectacularly wrong. While her petite body normally posed no real threat of smothering him, they hadn’t accounted for his body sinking into the couch a bit and messing with the angles. When she would give him a blowjob, his signal to expect imminent cum was slapping her on the arm. So, visibly seeing his boner quivering, and feeling his slaps on her thighs, she thought he was just getting super into it. It was when those slaps turned into claws pulling at her that she realized something was off. When his struggles slowed and then stopped completely, she panicked. She had told her coworkers on the call that a delivery person was at the door, and she frantically turned off her microphone and camera, flying up from her perch on Steve’s face.

She remembered him looking a little blue, and she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. She thought she had killed him with her butt, a tragic and catastrophic loss coming from something so silly. She flew over to him to commence CPR, but the moment her lips connected with his, his eyes flew open and he drew in a massive, shuddering inhale. Amy’s relief was palpable. She had chastised him at the time for the stupid idea and swore they would never do anything like it again. That didn’t stop Steve from heading to the bathroom to promptly jerk off over the hot idea that his wife’s little bubble butt had almost killed him for real.

All of this informed Amy’s shock and fear in the shower. That’s why the next words out of his mouth stunned her.

“Squish me,” Steve said without a hint of insincerity.

“What??!! Are you nuts??!!” Amy nearly shouted at him.

“No, I’m dead serious. Put me between your boobs and squish me.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely not you psycho. Remember the Couch Incident?” referring to that particular instance of nearly lethal facesitting with the name they had given it subsequently.

“I’m not telling you to smother me, I’m asking you to surround me with squishy boob flesh. Not for long, just for a few seconds. What you did a few seconds ago with pressing me into your tit was…fucking incredible. I want more of it. I want ALL of it.”

This guy’s out of his fucking mind, Amy thought. But, she saw little harm in accommodating the request. It wasn’t like it was going to kill him, particularly if she didn’t do it hard. Her perky little B-cups weren’t anywhere near big enough for titty fucking, nor were they even big enough really for motorboating. But at Steve’s current size, they were positively monstrous.

She moved her hand from in front of her right boob and positioned him in the center of her chest, using her elbows to squeeze her boobs together. She stifled a giggle as his tiny form disappeared instantly. I may not be one of those BBWs men talk about, but these are plenty big for him right now.

She hadn’t accounted, however, for how soapy Steve still was. Almost as soon as she felt her tits make contact with each other, she felt something squeak out between them like a slippery rocket. She reacted immediately, frantically trying to grab Steve as he fell down, but he was propelled with significant speed and was quite small. Her palm ended up smacking him against the back of the shower, his body then falling down to the floor and spiraling toward the drain.

Oh my God, this time I’ve actually killed him, she panicked mentally. “STEVE??!!” she shouted.

She saw him bounce back up instantly and energetically, grinning ear to ear, as though he had just gone down a water slide. “Let’s do it again!! Smack me around a little more this time!!”

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared that he wasn’t lying when he said he could survive a fall from her full height, and considering he didn’t seem to have any broken bones or even visible bruises, it seemed like he could actually take a bit of punishment as well. Amy leaned into the moment, quite literally.

“Hold on, there’s a bug in my shower I have to squash.” She slowly and deliberately moved her foot over his body, lowering it until she felt his form pressed under the ball of her foot, his head between her second and third toes. She applied just a tiny bit of pressure before letting up. But then Steve surprised her again.

“Harder!” his muffled shout came out from between her toes.

“What??!”

“I said HARDER! I told you to squish me and you’re failing miserably.”

“Oh, okay hotshot. Just remember, you asked for this.” She started to press down a little more, bringing to mind their initial test of his durability with her thumb on his leg. She was doing it carefully, but she now had a rough sense of how much he could take. She could feel his body giving slightly under the ball of her foot, the hair on his head ticklish between her toes.

She leaned forward, pressing her foot down more and more, albeit slowly and gradually, until she finally heard a faint “oomph.” Amy lifted her foot back up to see a red-faced Steve, his erection fully restored despite having ejaculated only minutes prior.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask for, uh, some help with my…situation?” Steve asked while gesturing vaguely to his privates.

Amy resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. This man is insatiable. “What did you have in mind, exactly?”

“Uhhhhh….a blowie? Maybe?”

“And how exactly is that supposed to work considering your entire body is smaller than my tongue?” Amy asked genuinely.

“Dealer’s choice, I guess. Get creative.”

“Okay but, yet again, remember, you wanted this,” Amy cautioned. Steve had an anticipatory ear-to-ear grin as she picked him up off the floor of the tub and lifted him upward to be level with her face. And then, she unceremoniously popped him into her mouth like he was a pill.

----------------------------------

Despite the rapid-fire chain of events, for Steve, everything seemed to move almost in slow motion. He took in all of Amy’s monolithic visage: her drenched hair, her dainty plucked eyebrows, the little mole high on her cheek that he loved to kiss playfully. But more than anything, his eyes were drawn to her lips. Those plush, pink cushions that had pressed against his own lips countless times, and that had frequently wrapped around his cock to extraordinary effect. Over their time as a couple, Amy had learned how to push all the right buttons. He was too large, and she was too small, for her to really ever deepthroat him, but she knew how to work her tongue like a magician.

Of course, she could deepthroat ALL of me now, Steve mused. What if…what if she swallowed me by accident? The brief jolt of fear was quickly subsumed by an increase in his arousal. Jeez, she’s right. I really AM fucked up. Why does the thought of being her food turn me on? He supposed it had something to do with the dramatic reversal of their power dynamic, with his insignificance. They weren’t husband and wife; she was hungry and he was food; she was a predator and he was prey. He knew he wouldn’t even be enough to satisfy her. Somehow, the thought of stewing in Amy’s gut while chewed bits of salad rained down on top of him in the digestive slurry was even hotter. I should see a therapist. Well, after we figure this shit out.

Though from Amy’s perspective she had just callously tossed him into her mouth, from Steve’s perspective, he took in every minute detail. Her elevator of a hand drawing him ever closer to her open mouth. Her straight, white teeth that always dazzled when she smiled. Her pinkish, red tongue, the small depression in the middle and the tastebuds scattered throughout. Her palate, the ridge running down the middle and the ribbed texture evoking an image of some great beast’s spine and ribs. And, of course, those cute, dainty little lips. Those cute, dainty little lips that were now the entrance to the underworld. Amy’s world.

Steve stared up in wonder as those lips passed over his head before he was dumped onto her tongue. The pliant, spongy texture gave a little as he fell, but supported his weight enough for him to quickly scramble to his knees and turn around. He wanted to take it all in. He could see the backs of Amy’s teeth, her gums ringing around him like he was an animal in a circus ring. And most significantly, he could see the wall of the shower. His last look at the reality he had been in moments ago before he entered an entirely new one of Amy’s sole design. This is a view nobody’s ever had before…probably because human beings were never meant to be food. Maybe for some wild animals, but certainly not food that can be swallowed whole.

The light streaming in between Amy’s lips rapidly dwindled to a pinprick before he heard the distinct clack of her jaw slamming shut. He suppressed a shudder, the noise sounding eerily similar to the closing of a casket in his mind. Remember, you’re supposed to be enjoying this. And he found, with little surprise, that he was. Not only did his erection stay rock hard, but it was pulsing of its own accord without any physical stimulation. That situation was quickly remedied though.

Sealed in the darkness, his other senses took over to inform his surroundings. For the first time he noticed her warm breath enveloping him with every exhale, a faintly stale, lingering aroma of the toast and jam from hours earlier wafting over him. The toast that she threatened to put me on, he remembered lustily. He realized for the first time that, despite how hot the interior of a mouth normally is, he wasn’t struck by the warmth. Probably a result of coming in from the hot water in the shower.

But with his vision gone dark, his tactile senses were in overdrive. The rubbery, spongy texture of the tongue beneath him that gave slightly when he pressed on it, the thickness of the saliva as compared to the water that had been flowing over him moments prior. He felt like if he could see, spreading his fingers apart would show strands of the thicker fluid connecting them now like spiderwebs. And while he wasn’t ordinarily one to let a woman toss his salad, the stimulation of the gooey warmth underneath his cheeks was surprisingly pleasant. The inside of Amy’s mouth was a sensual wonderland.

Until the tongue moved. The first thing Amy did was press him against the inside of her cheek like a gumball, her tongue dragging him across the cushiony, springy surface as he felt himself get fully coated in the saliva for the first time. Amy wasn’t taking it easy on him either. He was rolled like a barrel, bringing to mind his experience in her shoe from earlier this morning. She continued to toy with him, the tip of her tongue pressing him down between her lower gums and the inside of her lips. Amy’s tongue then tossed him to the other side of her mouth, repeating the same procedure of smearing him across every conceivable surface.

Okay, this is significantly less enjoyable than I thought it would be. Then the tongue vibrated underneath him as he heard a booming “mmmmmmm.” To Amy, the guttural sound was faint. To Steve, it washed over him in a vibratory wave. Wait a minute…is she TASTING me? He rapidly put together that this performance was for his benefit. There was no way he tasted like anything other than faint soap after having already cleaned himself off. Knowing that allowed him to get into a little more. It was difficult to coordinate in the constantly shifting darkness, but he tried to get one of his hands around his cock. He briefly succeeded, before he found himself getting pressed between the tip of Amy’s tongue and the inside of her upper lip, a sudden influx of light shocking his system.

Amy was poking his head out of her mouth like she was blowing a bubble with his body. He felt her teeth grip him slightly as he heard a cute giggle. Haha Ames…glad you’re enjoying yourself.

Amy sucked him back in like she was pulling on a straw, the vacuous suction effect putting pressure on his eardrums suddenly. But then, the actual play started. Amy’s tongue curled upward and inward, dumping Steve to the wet, encompassing flesh below the inside of her lower gums, a place that would normally be covered by the tongue. And with a surprising amount of dexterity, the tongue spun him around so that he was facing it, his back sinking into the soft flesh at the bottom of Amy’s mouth, the back of his head resting against the stiffness of her lower gums, his whole body resting in a small pool of saliva.

He was curious what she was going for, but it became apparent in an instant. The tip of Amy’s tongue, ever so gently, began to slide up and down his body, slathering him in saliva. And then it focused on his genitals, the tip of Amy’s tongue describing short, circular motions as she played with his entire package in one small motion. The stimulation, both from the tongue on his cock and the environment he was in, had an immediate effect on Steve. He felt his bloodflow rising, the flood of hormones and neurochemicals that signify an imminent orgasm filling his body with warmth. He lasted a grand total of less than 30 seconds once Amy actually started trying to get him off.

It took a second for his miniscule load to register with Amy’s tastebuds, her tongue continuing to lap him up and down like a child with an oversized lollipop. But she must have tasted his cum on some level, ar at least felt his erection subsiding, because the motion gradually stopped. Her tongue scooped him off the bottom of her mouth, depositing him in her cheek again like dentist gauze.

“Really?” Amy’s voice boomed around him. “That’s it?”

Steve felt his face flush with embarrassment. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he responded nonetheless. “Sorry babe! That was really fucking hot.”

Still pressed down inside her cheek, he heard Amy speak once again. “Hey hun, I figured out a way to get you your own jacuzzi at your size!” Steve was deeply confused until Amy’s mouth suddenly opened wide, the light from outside blinding him briefly. She moved her open mouth below a stream of hot water coming out of the shower head, the hot water rapidly filling her mouth as she held back from swallowing it. Now that his lust was abating, however, the possibility of Amy swallowing suddenly became all too real. He glanced behind him hesitantly, a spike of fear in his belly as he was able to fully see Amy’s tonsils and, most significantly, the currently (and fortunately) sealed entrance to her esophagus. The gateway to hell.

He was about to shout out to Amy that this wasn’t funny, until she started to gargle him like he was mouthwash, her head tilted back and her mouth open. It wasn’t inconceivable that she would swallow him by accident at this point. Her head was tilted all the way back; it was a straight shot down her throat from here.

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Amy felt herself giggling again as her husband’s tiny body was tossed around in her mouth “jacuzzi” like a pinball. If he gets to have his fun, repeatedly, then I get to have mine too. But suddenly, her thoughts took a much darker turn. She remembered slicing the piece of wedding cake, only to find her new, tiny husband on her plate instead. She remembered her jaws closing inexorably around him, seemingly of their own accord. And she remembered tracing the lump of food that used to be a person down her throat as it was deposited into her stomach for digestion like every other meal she had ever consumed. And all it would take to reenact that right now would be to open the gates and just…swallow. The dream she had of eating Steve whole suddenly became frighteningly real. It wasn’t funny anymore. He’s probably terrified…or insanely turned on. One never knows with that man.

She gently reached in and plucked Steve out of her mouth between her thumb and forefinger, and then spat out the hot water. “Sorry babe…I got a little carried away there for a second.”

“No shit,” Steve responded angrily. And then he added, “but it was kinda hot though.” I fucking KNEW it! Is there anything that doesn’t turn him on?

“You know Ames…now that I’m all lubed up…” Steve hinted while waggling his eyebrows.

“Unless those were tears I tasted, by my count you’ve now cum twice in five minutes,” Amy responded. “You can’t possibly have more in you,” she said with a dubious tone.

“Right but like…you haven’t gotten off yet,” Steve stated matter-of-factly. It was true. The stimulation on her breasts earlier and the ad hoc jacuzzi power trip DID have Amy’s blood boiling a little bit. “What did you have in mind?” she asked him.

“I have an idea. Sit down in the tub and spread ‘em,” Steve instructed.

“Okay…” Amy said while going along with his plan. Balancing Steve on her upturned palm, she gently lowered herself to the floor of the tub, feeling more than a little self-conscious as she scissored open her legs and displayed her pussy in full. The hot water from the shower continued to rain down on their naked bodies.

“Now put me down,” Steve told her. Amy placed him gently on the floor of the tub between her open thighs. Steve immediately began heading on a beeline toward her vagina. Amy’s cheeks flushed as she covered herself with her hands.

“Wait, babe…I’m not 100% on this,” she said quietly.

“Why?” Steve asked with genuine confusion.

“Because you’re tiny and it’s gonna be like…big and gross. It’s been a few weeks since I waxed. I probably have hairs longer than you and like…I’ll bet the uh, ahem, scent is seriously potent at your size,” she said with the hesitance clear in her tone.

“Ames, I’ve practically had my nose up your butthole before,” Steve said while Amy felt her already blushing face grow a shade redder at the thought. She knew he was into that kind of stuff, but it didn’t exactly make her feel…ladylike. “I’ve buried my face between these legs more times than I can count. Ain’t nothing I’m gonna see, smell or taste that I haven’t reveled in before,” Steve said with utmost confidence. “Besides, you literally JUST washed it, and you know I prefer it when you’re dirty anyway. How bad could it be?”

Amy did still feel a lingering sense of arousal, and he was right that, up to this point, she’d mostly just been teased while he got off repeatedly. “Yes, and you’re truly disgusting for enjoying that,” she said flatly. Steve continued to stare at her, awaiting authorization to proceed.

“Okay, I guess, but….I’m gonna close my eyes and, please, just don’t SAY anything about it,” she pleaded.

“That’s the spirit!” Steve shouted back enthusiastically. With that, Amy removed her hands from her privates and rested them on her thighs, tilting her head back and allowing the hot water to flow over her face.

For a few seconds, she didn’t feel anything, to the point where she considered cracking an eye to see what he was up to. But then she felt it…barely. His tiny hands running up the inside of her thigh as he slowly approached the holy grail. Much like when he touched her nipple, it was slightly ticklish but also titillating. And that was before he touched her pussy directly. He applied more pressure with his palms as he ran appreciative hands up and down the exterior of her labia, the noticeable touch scintillating and alluring.

From all their exploits together, Steve knew how to push Amy’s buttons the same way she did his. While he gently teased her by stroking the outside of her pussy lips, he did eventually make his way to her clit. She felt a brief tugging sensation as he must have grabbed a hold of pubic hair to hoist himself upward, massaging her clit with both hands. The sensation was electrifying, like the naughtiest possible kind of vibrator.

Amy wasn’t one to make a ton of noise during sex, usually feeling self-conscious and animalistic whenever they got down to business unless she was drunk. But she couldn’t suppress the moan that slipped out when she felt his touch stimulating her. She found herself biting her lower lip as she moved her hands up to her breasts and began massaging them simultaneously.

Suddenly, she found that she CRAVED having something inside her. Steve always knew how to find her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy, sticking his pointer and middle fingers inside her while doing a “come hither” hook motion against the roof of her insides. The sensations coming from her clit right now felt almost like an unfulfilled promise. She needed the satisfaction.

She carefully maneuvered her right hand away from her breast and around Steve’s body so as not to smush him against her pussy, sticking her fingers inside of herself and simulating the hook motion he was so adept at performing. With her petite hands and small fingers, and with the weird angle around his body, however, she found she couldn’t fully reach the spot. And it was driving her mad.

Steve knew what she was trying to do and felt bad that he could no longer do it himself…until the seeds of an idea planted in his head. “Ames…let me take over,” he stated.

She cracked one eye and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Here, take your fingers out and put them under me,” Steve said. Amy followed his instructions, Steve hopping down from her clit onto the tips of her fingers.

“Okay, now try it again,” he told her.

This time Amy opened both eyes before narrowing them and glancing at him. “What? No.”

“Why not?” Steve asked.

“Because number one: it’s dangerous. Number two: I just feel…weird and gross about having your whole body…you know…” she trailed off.

Steve smirked up at her. “Do you wanna get off or not? Just go with it, Ames.”

She was already in peak arousal, and the hormones suffused her judgment at that point. “Okay…but let the record reflect that I wasn’t totally on board with this idea.”

“Hahaha…’let the record reflect.’ You know any lawyers?” Steve quipped.

“Har har, are we doing this or not?” Amy asked in anticipatory frustration.

“Oh, we’re fucking DOING this alright.” With Steve dangling on the tips of her pointer and middle fingers, Amy slowly began to stick them both inside her. Not far, just enough for Steve to reach her g-spot. And she felt it immediately. Holy fuck…fuck….fuck this is fucking hot, Amy thought to herself as she felt her husband’s tiny hands and feet going to town on her g-spot like a rock climber scaling a mountain. Steve was on his back, flailing and kicking his arms and legs in the air like a toddler. Dimly, Amy recalled the famous story about Michaelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel on his back. This was the precise opposite of good Christian behavior, however.

She began to make circular motions on her clit with her thumb, pressing down and flitting back and forth like Steve’s tongue used to. She felt her body flooding with the hormones and warmth that precipitated an imminent orgasm, her insides pulsing and quivering. She applied more pressure with her thumb, rapidly approaching climax. She heard herself repeating, “yeah…yeah…oh fuck…fuck,” briefly feeling embarrassed at the outpouring of emotion but being too caught up in the moment to really care.

It was the flurry of frantic movement against her g-spot that pushed her over the edge. She squeezed her thighs together, her toes curling and a slight yelp coming out of her mouth, not realizing that while she had been applying more pressure with her thumb outside, she was doing the same with her fingers inside her. Steve was getting buried in vaginal flesh as she came forcefully, bunching her knees upward and leaning forward almost into a fetal position. She bathed in the afterglow of her orgasm for a few moments before reality set in. Oh shit!!! Steve wasn’t moving anymore. She quickly pulled her fingers out to inspect them, immediately wondering how she was going to administer CPR at his size, a replay of the Couch Incident going through her head and exacerbating her fears.

What she saw was a frazzled, red, wet Steve, his hair a matted mess, his dick standing at full attention yet again, an immensely satisfied and knowing grin on his face. He just got her off harder than possibly ever before, and the little bastard knew it. She experienced a brief moment of confusion as he quickly hopped down off her fingers to the floor of the tub, before backing up a few inches and taking off at a sprint toward her genitals. She thought he was about to leap ALL the way into her vagina, and so she was completely surprised at the next sensation she felt. She let out a shocked, little squeak as she felt her husband’s miniscule form slip under her pussy and between her buttcheeks, now slightly opened from having brought her knees up and leaning forward. If her face wasn’t red before, it must’ve looked like a beet now as she felt him slip into her butt and start fiddling around near her anus. She practically jumped out of the tub in surprise.

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Yes, Amy was pressing him hard. And yes, the friction was a little uncomfortable. But boy was Steve ever in heaven. Much like his brief journey into her mouth, Steve made sure to take in every little detail on his way inside Amy. Her two fingers were already a little sticky with vaginal discharge, and as he was brought closer to her labia, he was breathing deeply to take in the scent. He was half-tempted to lick her fingers, but he knew he’d be getting a much closer and personal experience than that. And did he ever.

He remembered glancing upward as she brought him to the entrance to her vagina, seeing her clit partially protruding and her smooth, toned belly rising above her pelvis, her tits on full display and her head arched backward enjoying the moment. And he took in every detail around him. The change in skin color, the little wrinkles, the faint, wispy pubic hairs that encircled the area. And then he was in front of the entrance. It didn’t exactly look “open” to him, contrary to some porn depictions of a gaping vagina. He knew he’d be squeezing in a little bit, and he loved the idea of it.

And just like that, he left planet Earth behind and entered Amy’s World for the second time since they had gotten in the shower. An abrupt absence of light, and then the slick, silky walls pulsating gently around him as her fingers dexterously guided him further inward, her heartbeat barely detectable and even then, only because of him literally being inside her. It wasn’t something he would have ever noticed with his fingers. The scent and taste of Amy all around him, her juices clumping his hair together, the faintly sweet saltiness as he licked his lips. He had tasted her countless times before, but at this scale, Amy became his entire world. There wasn’t an up or a down, a left or a right, a higher or lower, it was just…Amy’s pussy, everywhere, surrounding and enveloping him. And the heat. Of course you would expect her insides to be warm, but in her current state of arousal, her pussy was like a miniature (or, at his size, a massive) furnace.

He felt his dick twitching to life once again, shocking himself with his own virility. He had thought that, as his age, his days of marathon sex sessions were long over. But nothing could have prepared him for how much hotter everything was at his size. I could get lost in here, and that’s amazing. I could probably squirm all the way to the cervix and there’d be no way of getting me out. He knew that plan was totally infeasible. He needed to breathe, after all, and he knew Amy would never forgive herself if her husband died inside her.

Speaking of which…Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting, exactly, but he had assumed there would at least be SOME airflow being so close to the entrance of her pussy. But the walls closed around him and Amy’s fingers, abruptly robbing him of vital oxygen. He took an enormous inhale in the little pocket he had left, before that too slipped upward and outward. He figured he maybe had a minute, tops, before he would need to breathe. We probably should’ve talked about this in advance. There I go, thinking with my dick again. He hoped Amy would sense his struggles when the time came and know to take him out, especially after the Couch Incident.

And yet, as her two fingers hooked upward and began to mash Steve’s one-inch body into her g-spot, pressing the air out of his lungs and smushing his face against her velvety interior, the juices almost flowing up his nostrils, he found he wasn’t asphyxiating. He had thought there was just sufficient airflow in Amy’s sneaker when he hadn’t died under her foot, but maybe there was more to it than that. The enhanced durability, the lessened need to breathe, this shrinking thing has its perks. He was certain there was some scientific rationale behind it, but he wasn’t going to trouble himself with the details. For now, it made everything awesome. I could probably hold on long enough to jerk off on the wrong side of her butthole, he thought. He mentally chastised himself, both for the shamefully gross (but equally hot) idea, and for the embarrassment Amy would feel if he even HINTED at something like that. She’s so put together, so cute, so demure…she should get a little dirty now and then. It’s probably good for her. Amy’s pride in her hygiene made it inexplicably sexier when he thought about her bodily functions and secretions. Like with the Couch Incident, that kind of stuff being generally taboo for women made it so much hotter to him. The sweat on her feet, the occasional whiff of armpit B.O. he would catch when he’d hug her after she returned from the gym, her morning breath, the vague staleness in her panties after she slept in them, her private time on the toilet….

Jeez, maybe I AM gross. Okay, enough. Let’s be in the moment here. Amy was certainly in the moment. He could feel the walls clenching around him, could vaguely hear what sounded like a moan, and he went to town on the spot above him. Steve extended both legs and arms, digging his fingers and toes into the g-spot and moving all four limbs with as much speed and ferocity as he could muster. The response was gratifying, as he felt Amy’s flesh quivering around him, seizing and shaking him in equal part as he was further bathed in vaginal fluid.

It was going great, until Amy got perhaps a little TOO into it. Suddenly, she started pressing down with her fingers and moving them along with his body. She may not have been able to fully reach the g-spot in a truly satisfying way, but she had enough reach to mash Steve into the roof of her vagina. Bringing to mind his experience in her mouth just moments earlier, and his experience in her shoe earlier in the day (which feels like a lifetime ago), he was mercilessly rolled back and forth, almost like his wife was using him as a paint roller for her insides. And now the lack of oxygen started to matter a whole lot more. While he could hold his breath longer than was possible at his full size, his enhanced capacity had its limits, and it was reaching those limits even before Amy squished the remaining air out of him and exacted a tremendous physical toll on his body.

And she showed no signs of stopping. She was only speeding up, clearly approaching orgasm and bulldozing on ahead like a freight train. He started gasping for air, instead sucking in flesh and pussy juice, the viscous fluid coating the inside of his mouth and jetting down his throat, causing him to cough…which made the oxygen deprivation even worse. He felt like his one chance at this point was to do whatever he could to help the process along, and he started violently flailing his limbs once more, even licking when his head made contact with her flesh, knowing his tongue was too small to really make a difference. But he ran out of energy rather quickly, and he could feel his limbs slowing….slowing…

And then he was completely gassed, but Amy kept going harder and faster. Just when he was about to lose consciousness, he could vaguely make out what sounded like vocalizations from Amy, something he knew was exceedingly rare during sex for her. And in that moment, he felt like a man again, a grin spreading across his face even as the world was fading out around him. Suddenly, all of the slick, hot flesh that had been quivering and shuddering around him clenched into an extended vice grip that must have lasted over 10 seconds. There was a brief pause as his vision was starting to fade, before the fingers below him speedily dragged him out.

The shock of the comparatively cool shower water and bright lights immediately brought him back to full consciousness, and Steve noticed that at some point, he had gotten hard again. Maybe asphyxiation does it for me even more at my new size. He looked upward at Amy’s flushed face, her wet breasts heaving inward and outward rapidly with her accelerated heartrate. His grin grew wider. He knew that look. She just came HARD. He imagined he had a similar look on his face.

He glanced around and saw Amy’s knees were now drawn up, likely clenched inward with her orgasm, and her torso was leaning forward. And he could make out the faintest little shadow under her vagina, where there was the tiniest of gaps between her buttcheeks. He was thoroughly lubed up, and before the shower washed it off him (and while he still had the element of surprise), he seized his moment. He was way too horny after what had just happened to pass this up.

Steve nimbly hopped off Amy’s fingers down onto the bottom of the tub and took off at a full sprint toward the little gap of darkness below her vagina. He knew he must have timed it right, because Amy made no move to stop him. She was probably still coming down from her orgasmic high, paying half attention to his actions.

Like an Olympic diver, Steve put both hands in front of him, his arms making a “V” formation, as he dove forward into the little dark space between Amy’s lower crack. And boy, did he ever hit his mark. His body slipped easily between the wet flesh, especially with her juices still lubricating him, and he felt the sensation of flesh above him change from a pillow, jiggly softness to almost a hard, creased rubber. He knew he didn’t have long (unless she randomly decides to indulge me…ZERO chance of that) with Amy’s sensitivity about that area in general, a self-consciousness that was no doubt magnified a hundredfold by her current size. If she was worried about pussy odor, there was no chance in hell she was letting him anywhere near her anus anytime soon.

So, he took full advantage of the brief moment he had. Amy’s puckered little star was clean, having just showered, so he immediately dug his fingers into the crevices that formed the wrinkles around the entrance to her backdoor. His fingers slid along the little divots, tracing a line directly to the center, where he heaved himself up to get in a quick lick. He heard the alarmed squeak Amy let out, immediately followed by a sense of weightless vertigo as he felt the cheeks collapse around him while he was lifted upward. He felt two fingers pinch his abdomen rather forcefully, plucking him out of his position.

And then he was yanked skyward, staring now at Amy’s even redder face, anger written plain across it.

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THIS FUCKING PERVERT!! Amy thought angrily as she dug her fingers into her butt, extracting her overexuberant husband.

She brought him up before her, looking him dead in the eyes. “You have GOT to be shitting me!!” she practically yelled at him.

Steve offered a sheepish grin in response, clearly not all that bothered by what he’d done. “Actually, I was kinda hoping it would be YOU shitting ME,” he offered jokingly.

“EW!! Just….ew again!! Steve, I can’t keep an eye on you 24/7, and I have to know that you understand that no means NO. If you’re going to pull a stunt like that, how do I know I’m not gonna smash you one night while you’re climbing all over me and I roll over in my sleep?”

And then she caught the telltale sign of Steve caught with his hand in the cookie jar: he looked away, refusing to make eye contact, suddenly finding the ground to be very interesting.

“Oh my God….you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

“Just a little!” he responded defensively. “I was…really excited and you were out like a light, so I figured I’d do a little…you know…exploring,” he said, still not making eye contact.

“Steve, look at me,” she commanded. He still wouldn’t make eye contact. “LOOK at me!!” He finally glanced up. “That’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s not charming. It’s both scary and violative. In fact, it’s more than a little…rapey. Setting aside for a moment that you could be killed, I never said yes. That’s objectively fucked up.”

That last point she made landed, as she saw the understanding and contrition dawning on his face. “You’re right Ames, I’m sorry. Really. I won’t do it again.”

She cooled down a little at the look on his face, but she had one more point to make. “Good. And also, it’s just…gross, Steve. Like, I know I’ve said that a lot, including a bunch of times today alone. But you KNOW I’m not really into the whole…butt stuff thing. I do it because you’re into it and I want you to be satisfied. But to be clear, my preference would be if you were never anywhere NEAR that area. You know what that’s used for, right?” she asked sarcastically.

“I thought you said girls don’t poo?” Steve asked jokingly.

“We don’t. We ABSOLUTELY don’t. We don’t fart either. Ever. But still. Exit ONLY. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve answered. She was inclined to trust him as he was looking her in the eyes still, the apology evident on his face.

“Okay, good. This was…scary. Scary, but fun.”

“I know right?!” he responded enthusiastically. “10 out of 10. Would recommend.”

This man is a total boob. “Would recommend? What does that even mean? To who? All of my other one-inch husbands?”

“It’s just a thing the kids say,” he said looking a little embarrassed.

“Oh my God, you are nowhere near old enough to start talking about ‘what the kids say.’ Retiring really did a number on you, huh grandpa?” Amy said with a wry grin.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Let’s get out. My whole body looks like a prune.”

“First thing you’ve said that makes a lick of sense today,” she paused, unable to resist landing one last jab after seeing he was still erect. “You know, prunes are delicious…”

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