Humidity hung in the evening air. This was not due to natural means. In the middle of a thick forest, lay a clearing. It was clearly man made, for the clearing’s dimensions were that of a neatly arrayed rectangle.

Within the clearing lay several structures that towered over the thick canopy of the forest. These were not buildings, however. In many aspects, these colossal landmarks resembled workout equipment. Benches, pull-up bars, dumbbells of incredible mass, all occupied this clearing. A large, stand up sign near the edge was marked with great bold text reading, “Ginormous Gains”. Smaller signs at the edge were covered in red, warning “Restricted Area: Giantess workout zone. Proceed at your own risk”.

The equipment was being put to good use. Several women who had the size to match, were taking advantage of the colossal athletic amenities. All, of great size, or even greater size, were covered with a thick layer of perspiration. It was they who clogged the evening sky with moisture.

One in particular, was working up a furious sweat. With a monumental barbell slung across her back, Caitlin performed a ferocious set of squats. Her eyes were widened with focus, and her teeth were clenched. Her generous quadriceps and calves nearly burst through her skin as they worked, while abdominal musculature pulsed and puffed when she bent down.

Rivers of electrolyte-enhanced liquid flowed as waterfalls from every single one of her pores. Musky liquid dampened and darkened her gray tank-top, causing it to cling to her skin, revealing just how bounteous and bouncy her chest area could be. Her navy blue nylon shorts nearly rode up to her waist. The athletic fabric wicked away her sweaty downpour as best it could, although this resulted in vast droplets and streams crashing down upon the mat below. Already, there were sizable puddles a normal-sized man could swim in.

Right in front of her stood Jackie. She too, sported a substantial coat of sweat, which caused her dark skin to glisten in the light of the setting sun. The giantess clapped encouragingly as Caitlin progressed on her set, while at the same time, a boisterous voice bellowed out phrases of encouragement.

As the end of the set neared, Caitlin’s breaths became far more audible. Steel eyes shut underneath heavy strain. Her muscles burned, a satisfactory sensation that was addicting in its own right. Upon finishing her final squat, a yell of triumph was shouted out, and she threw off the conquered barbell.

The great mass of metal thundered as it smashed into the gym mat. Those lacking great stature would have felt a low magnitude earthquake linger for nearly a minute after impact. Such sensations, however, registered as merely annoying vibrations to the titans in the area.

Upon witnessing such a flagrant display, Jackie’s cheerful disposition soured.

“Cool it girl! We ain’t power-lifting meatheads!” scolded the taller woman. Her hands were placed upon her hips, in an attempt to impose upon her fellow, pumped-up colossus. While her own musculature possessed greater definition, even so far as to split her formidable deltoids into two sections, her own bulk fell just a hair short of Caitlin’s.

Her peer responded with an exaggerated shrug, “Okay Mom! Whatever you say!”

Despite the cheeky comment, there was no sense of mischief within Caitlin’s voice. In fact, the titaness appeared almost despondent. While her expression betrayed sheer frustration, within her eyes, something was missing.

There were two others who were making use of the workout equipment. Both had ceased what had occupied them, for the commotion nearby was too great. One was a woman of East Asian descent, featuring angled dark eyes, and straight, jet black hair pulled into a ponytale. There was no visible muscle underneath her thin arms. She was midway through a tricep lift, utilizing a rather small dumbbell, when the confrontation began.

The other was a clear veteran, for she too possessed a sculpted athletic physique. An annoyed expression crossed her face, as well-worked arms gripped the pullup par. She then dismissively shook her head, tussling her short pixie-cut dirty blonde hair.

At these two, did Jackie train a nervous eye on, “We’re gonna be kicked out if you don’t get your act together.”

Caitlin had taken a seat on the floor. She brought a white towel to her face, wiping it across her forehead.

“Their loss,” she dismissed.

“Seriously girl,” Jackie pressed, her tone becoming quite serious, “What’s the matter with you? I ain’t seen you like this since… Oh…”

As realization crossed her friend’s face, Caitlin indifferently took her canteen. Greedily, she gulped down the liquid within, not caring that some spilled out of the corners of her mouth, landing upon her chest.

Steel gray eyes veered over, giving Jackie a deadly glare.

“Two fucking weeks!”

Levity returned to her partner. Jackie’s smile puffed up her cheeks, granting her a smug expression. Dark eyes glowed knowingly with forbidden knowledge, as well as a teasing spirit to match. Such was a dangerous combination, for she knew exactly where to hit.

“Damn, that withdrawal’s hitting you hard?” she rhetorically commented.

Caitlin let out a harsh huff. “Stop smiling!”

The taller titan’s legs straightened and snapped together. A crisp salute, evocative of military discipline and precision, greeted Caitlin.

“Yessir!” shouted Jackie, her tone betraying her ridiculing intent, “No joy for me sir!”

A huff escaped the frustrated woman. Despite herself, she could not meet her friend’s mockery with vile retribution. Thus, her expression softened, and her head fell. She fixated upon the gym mat below. Slick, dark hair hung over her eyes as her head hung down.

“Gosh, I knew this was coming,” she admitted, “Andrew was fuming about it all last month, and making arrangements. I … I thought I would have been prepared this time.”

Her friend joined her on the floor. Jackie leaned up against Caitlin’s moping form, initiating unwelcome contact.

“Aw babe, don’t worry,” she consoled, bringing one of her arms around Caitlin’s shoulder, “He’s coming home tomorrow ain’t he? You can hit the dance floor with gusto once he comes in.”

“Oh, he’s coming in all right,” responded Caitlin most cryptically.

“I mean, next time, I reckon,” began Jackie, lowering her voice, while her eyes darted about, keeping track of the other two gym-goers.

Once she was sure there were no other ears to pry too keenly in their conversation, did she continue, “They sell some pretty stiff cucumbers at Giant’s Grocer’s. Those things fill out every nook and cranny. Can’t beat your man I bet, but desperate times call for des-“

“I hate cucumbers, and they don’t do a thing for me anyways.”

After shooting Jackie a glare, Caitlin resumed pondering upon the ground. It’s not just that, the house is just … empty. Lord, I can’t wait for today to end.

Meanwhile, the dark-skinned woman decided it was best, to maintain a certain distance from her distraught companion. A troubled thought, however, haunted her. Her misgivings were muttered at a volume just below Caitlin’s perception.

“Can’t believe you hate cucumbers, they’re fresh pickles for goodness sake.”

…

Mighty mechanical roars of jet engines soared overhead, as Andrew exited the airport. Through the throngs of people either arriving, or departing, it was clear he was a step or two quicker. Effortlessly, did he weave through the crowd, until he reached a busy street. Lines of yellow cars picked up awaiting passengers, before speeding off into the high way. Andrew himself peered into the organized mess of vehicles, squinting his eyes most diligently.

Upon finding what he was looking for, his eyes widened. His hands waved in the air, before one of the taxis parked near his position at the curb. The driver was an elderly man. Wrinkled wise eyes, initiated a friendly smile that Andrew was obliged to return. A cap covered his head, allowing a few strands of snow-white hair to escape. His mouth was barely visible beneath a full bushel of pale facial hair.

The driver took Andrew’s compact luggage, a small black, wheeled bag, and placed it in the trunk of the taxi. Andrew, however, was insistent that his black leather business bag was best left with him. With all his relevant belongings stored, Andrew entered the passenger’s side.

For a man of his age, the driver was swift in getting himself back in his own seat. As he shifted the car into gear, he nonchalantly buckled his seatbelt. With the skill and sense of a surgeon, he maneuvered himself through the sun-stained traffic, before speeding off onto the highway.

Over the hum of the engine, the driver commented, “Nice suit you got there, business trip?”

Andrew blinked in surprise, upon hearing the driver’s voice. Nevertheless, he responded, “Not anymore, thank the good sweet Lord.”

“Oh, one of those kinds eh?” inquired the driver with a sympathetic inflection, “They’re at least around some good bars?”

The office man’s thin lips formed into a knowing smile, “Oh the bars were a riot. We’d get fired for half the stuff we said in there if we were in the meeting.”

As he continued, his expression soured, as did his voice, “But these corporate mission statements just keep getting more gag-worthy by the year. And so many!”

“I know what you mean,” the driver nodded, as he performed a lane switch, “I once worked in corporate. Good money, but I was gonna die of boredom. Or an anger stroke, there are some fucking arrogant pricks that squirm around there. At least with this gig, I can drive, and meet some interesting people.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, “Am I among the interesting ones?”

“Everyone’s interesting,” responded the driver, “If you dig deep enough.”

“I suppose,” Andrew commented, leaning back into the fabric seat.

Few words were exchanged for the rest of the ride. Soon enough, the taxi exited the highway, bringing itself into the suburbs. Even in the dimming light of evening, Andrew could still pick out his residence, a residence barely fit for his titaness of a wife.

As the structure drew close, Andrew pointed towards it within the car, “Right there, that blocky looking structure.”

A snow-colored eyebrow was raised. “Man, that’s a mansion!” the driver observed, “You probably make some good money to afford that!”

The office man shook his head, “Nah, I’ve got a big lady back home.”

He retracted his pointer hand, and splayed it out for the driver to easily see. His wrinkled eyes could pick out a lustrous ring of gold upon Andrew’s third finger.

Upon observation of the matrimonial band, a warm smile spread across his bearded lips, “Big lady eh? Be careful, big ladies give big welcomes!” His statement was punctuated with a hearty chuckle that shook his belly.

In the shadow of Andrew’s residence, did the taxi come to a stop. The old man was rather fond of major shifts in momentum, for there was a distinct screech as he slammed onto the breaks to negate his vehicle’s velocity.

Andrew exited as swiftly as he had entered. He barely devoted enough time to dispense with the customary farewells, as well as payment. The old man was kind enough to retrieve his luggage from the trunk. His service was punctuated with a slap upon the back, a gesture than Andrew appreciated in retrospect, but couldn’t help but feel a bit peeved in the moment.

With luggage and bag in hand, he approached the towering structure. From his vantage, he could observe light within the large windows. A troubled instinct immediately made itself known within. It was a thought without form, an feeling that he forgot something. Andrew quickly checked his pockets, but saw that his wallet, his personal phone and house keys were in place. Furrowing his brow in confusion, the sensation still remained.

If I've left something in the taxi or the airport, I can give them a call when I figure out just what it is. Looks like I have everything important.

What Andrew forgot, however, was not something he had misplaced in his travels back home, but something that already was stewing beneath the surface, within his very home.

A storm was approaching.

…

Caitlin greedily ate of the cold chili within the plastic container. Several flecks of meat had dribbled out of the corner of her mouth, staining her already sweat-tainted tank-top. She barely had the motivation to even chew the cold contents before swallowing. Its spicy flavor and chunky texture barely registered upon her taste buds. Neither did she express fulfillment nor disgust upon her consumption of her frigid leftovers. Her meal was purely a mechanical affair.

Another spoonful was shoveled into her mouth. Caitlin was covered in a thick layer of sweat, all thanks to an intense workout session she had just walked home from. A forearm fruitlessly attempted to wick away a few drops that had settled upon her forehead. They fell to the ground, leaving puddles where they had splashed. A fresh layer of perspiration soon replenished the depleted area.

Caitlin eyed the cracked door to her bedroom. Even though she had already consumed a great deal of her leftovers, the giantess still felt empty within.

While she considered pieces of rubber and other artifacts of a similar nature poor junk food for the gnawing hunger that resided within her very soul, there were other small aspects of Andrew’s presence that had left her parched. The mere sight of her husband’s miniscule form upon the pillow she rested her head on was a luxury sorely missed. Even more so, was his feather-light touch whenever it was decided that she would be his bed for the night. It mattered not where he lay; snuggled within her bosoms, resting upon her stomach, or slumbering upon other such places. This mere thought sent a thrill of longing that rattled her very bones. Sleep had been a cold, barren affair for the past two weeks. The prospect of spending one more night alone was somberly anticipated.

Gargantuan ears picked up a rather faint, but distinctive sound of a door opening and closing. Her grip on the container of leftovers loosened, allowing it to fall upon the kitchen island. The plastic vessel rattled audibly for a few seconds before finally settling down upon the vast surface. Her other hand released the grip on her spoon, allowing it to dangle from her mouth. A few specks of chili still stained the corners of her lips.

She swung around, until she faced the entrance which her husband typically used. Keen eyes spotted the quaint form of Andrew, dressed in a white, button-up shirt, black belt and black dress pants. He had removed his business shoes before venturing into the house. Andrew’s small roller, containing all his changes of clothes, had been left at the door, but his black leather business bag was still slung across his shoulders.

Upon meeting his wife’s steely-gray gaze, Andrew froze in place. He had become aware of her musk, and sweaty state, but her sweltering odor was not what had compelled him to cease his pace. Neither, was the scene of Caitlin’s messy sense of table manners when it came to eating her leftovers, of any concern to him. Her eyes, the windows to her soul, had captured something rather terrifying. The vision of a ravenous beast resided in her orbs.

It was then, Andrew had remembered what he had forgotten, and it was not something carelessly left on a plane, nor an airport.

Husband and wife allowed silence to permeate the kitchen. Caitlin’s breathing had noticeably deepened. Her cheeks, once flush with the results of a good workout, were now bright red with something vastly different. Andrew noticed that the air now, while humid and musky, had acquired a sense of mass. He was finding it difficult to maintain a straight posture.

Caitlin was the first to break the silence, “I … I thought you were returning tomorrow.”

There was no trace of mischief or boyish mocking. Her gruff alto tone had become strained, scattered and breathy. Andrew could have written it off as Caitlin recovering from her exercise. But, now with the full knowledge of his folly, he knew there was something more to it than athletic exhaustion.

“We finished early” he replied, with clear hesitation apparent within his own voice, “… surprise I guess.”

At once, Caitlin’s spoon slid out of her mouth. It landed with a metallic clang on the kitchen floor. One leg lurched forward. A foot, covered in a damp, black sock thundered upon the ground.

Andrew almost lost his balance, for the impact of a single step sent deep tremors through the wooden floor. It was most unusual for him, for her crashing gait was one of the first things he had adjusted to. Now, it was as if he were a virgin to such titanic steps.

As the giantess rumbled over, a vast shadow was cast over Andrew’s diminutive form. He was only but an inch, perhaps even less so in Caitlin’s view. Now, he felt positively microscopic. There had been only a few times in his life where he had wanted to flee from his beloved, and this moment would be among them. His muscles screamed from within to break out into a sprint, so that he could flee from the approaching titaness.

However, Andrew was a man who possessed a firm grasp of reality, even when his instincts bellowed the opposite. From the minute he had entered into his own home, the moment Caitlin had caught sight of him, he had thrown himself into the path of an approaching hurricane. Escape was not an option.

He saw another foot slam a few feet from him, and immediately, was he knocked on his rear. Such an event resembled rumblings in close proximity to the epicenter of a mighty earthquake. Caitlin was consciously placing weight into her paces, far more so than usual. Another massive step, and her opposite foot fell to the other side of his faintly visible form. There was plenty of space that he could venture to escape his wife’s vast entrapment, but Andrew couldn’t help the feeling that he was walled in. Even the toes of Caitlin’s feet would be a rather stiff climb to clear, for he was only slightly taller than her large toe, if even that.

The office man could only marvel in awe at the two gargantuan pillars that flanked him. Dark eyes veered upwards, taking in the bulging calves that loomed above. Even higher, were two overwhelming thighs, barely covered in loose navy blue nylon. They might as well have been stuck in the sky itself. The sky itself was Caitlin’s hips and waist, musty and muggy, even from the great distance it was from Andrew. His most discerning nose was not only picking up sweat. A lustful taint permeated the air around him, and it was no secret where the source of such odors originated from.

Caitlin then began to squat down. Her form blocked out even more of the light from the overhead bulbs. Andrew could already feel the weight of her body, even though not a single cell of it had touched him. A spread hand reached for Andrew. Even from his vantage, he knew her hand could swallow up an entire residence, and it was he who would be caught in its all-encompassing grip. It was necessary to fight all of his urges to run. Running would only drive her even more crazy.

Her index and thumb dropped. Such a sight was evocative of watching the trunks of two sequoias converging upon him. Immediately did the pads of her digits swallow up his torso, and he was yanked into the air. Andrew was not trapped there for long, for Caitlin turned over her hand, allowing him to roll down her curved fingers, before coming to rest on her palm.

The lines that ran across Caitlin’s palm were rather significant trenches from Andrew’s viewpoint. There would be no way he would be stuck in one, for Caitlin was not that immense. Still, there was a depth to them that he could not perceive upon his own hand.

Pressed against the calloused terrain by sheer momentum, he was lifted up. Caitlin too, had risen up along with him, although for her, the experience proved more mundane. Soon enough, she had returned to standing at her full height. The hand holding her husband lay just underneath her chin.

Caitlin’s face was a massive wall, projected in front of him. It was much similar to gazing upon a picture in an IMAX theater. Her deep, bass-boosted breaths even rivaled the chest rattling surround sound such establishments usually possessed. Somewhere along the ride from the ground to her face, Andrew had been sure to discard his business bag. It would not survive what was about to happen.

For a second, The World stood still. Time ground to a halt. Seven seconds passed, then afterwards, motion returned.

Her hand tilted, drawn towards her face. Andrew beheld Caitlin’s lips, puckered and desperate, advance ever closer. Upon meeting them, his miniscule form was pressed into their wet suction, an overwhelming kiss that stole his breath away. From behind, Caitlin’s hand had imposed itself on him, oppressing his body against the wrinkled wet skin of her lips.

Hot breath blasted its way through small openings in her mouth, scented heavily of chili. Fresh strands of saliva adhered themselves to his shirt. In the first few seconds, he had been soaked thoroughly. And still, the hot, musty moisture kept piling on. On occasions, Caitlin’s monstrous slimy tongue would emerge like a beast from the deep, squeezing between her imposing lips to catch a taste of her husband. Even the tip of the tongue would leave a massive, soaked impression upon Andrew’s chest.

The sounds of her mouth dominated his ears. Throaty breath teamed with the squelching of saliva, and the writhing of tongue. And, every so often, a powerful moan would shake every fiber of Andrew’s body.

He was unable to move. With both Caitlin’s hand pressing him from the rear, and her lips assailing him from the front, her titanic strength was enough to render him immobile. All he could do was ride the kiss out. Oxygen was thankfully not an issue, although he had to seek it out when Caitlin would occasionally blast him with her own exhale.

It felt an eternity, but finally, he was released from the confines of her kiss. As Caitlin pulled her palm back, Andrew lay flat, feeling his now salivating work clothes stick to his skin. His own breath was rapid, desperate, and his heart could not help but to be audible to his own ears.

“Cait…” he exhaled, sounding frantic. He gazed into her great eyes, finding some semblance of restraint within.

“Fuck …” he heard Caitlin eject. The profanity was felt, as a puff of odorous sound blasted him back flat in her palm, “I’m gonna fuckin’...”

Relief was only short lived, for Andrew was pulled back into another moist embrace of lip and tongue. His body strained as her lips slightly parted to allow air through, as if she were attempting to stretch him like taffy. Her tongue was far more active this time around. The red slimy muscle would press him against her opposing palm, sliding him around the vast terrain in circles.

Eventually, she was able to pull him away once more. Caitlin had settled down, for how long, was the operative question on Andrew’s mind.

“Andrew,” Caitlin said, her voice strained, even frightened, “I’m going crazy. If … if you don’t wanna …. I-I can let you sleep on the couch. I … I just need to settle down.”

Her speech had practically dissolved into whimpers. Caitlin felt her legs instinctively cross, attempting to contain the burning fire that she had felt ignite once Andrew had entered the house. With her gaze alone, she was practically begging her husband, who already had been overwhelmed by the first bout with her. Within, she fought her own desire, not to overcome it, but to buy time.

Andrew sat up, his gaze sympathetic. He saw the fingers, fingers that rose up like great trees themselves, tremble. His wife’s teeth, great ivory structures themselves, bit down upon her bottom lip. He looked down upon his own soaked form. The black fabric of his pants hid nothing, for he himself was conflicted as well.

“Sleep on the couch?” he finally responded, getting Caitlin to widen her eyes just a bit, “I’m not going anywhere. Might as well get this over with.”

Caitlin shook her head, causing her hair to fly out. Her husband was hit with a few droplets of sweat. At his current state, however, it made little difference.

“Andrew,” she moaned, “I’m gonna absolutely destroy you… I’m serious, I can’t hold b-.”

Her eyes squeezed, and her words were lost to another uncharacteristically high pitched whine.

Something stirred within him. Andrew stood up, tall and proud, even as his wife now cowered. As he looked upon the vast face before him, the bounteous body of his beloved below, a new expression grew on his face. It was that of bravado, of masculine daring. Perhaps the same expression crossed great Alexander’s face, as he gazed at the vast expanse of the Persian empire. Perhaps Caeser was compelled by a similar instinct, as he set to tame all of Gaul by the sword. Perhaps Washington felt a comparable sense of daring when faced with the frozen Delaware river that lay between him and British fort.

Andrew was David, defiant and provoking, as he faced down Goliath.

“Oh come on!” he jabbed, crossing his soaked arms, “I can take anything you throw at me, you big, stinky ogre!”

The trembling ceased. A small smile formed upon her lips. The smile continued to grow, threatening to split her head open. Eyes, once desperate and pleading, were now mischievous, and even malicious. If Andrew was to face the hurricane, he would do so with gusto, and Caitlin would provide the apocalyptic wind.

“Stinky eh?” she repeated, feeling a certain bubbling within her gut, “Like this?”

Her mouth opened wide, and Andrew was brought before it. He did not have much time to admire the great interior, which would have been quite roomy to a man of his stature, before a supreme belch was ejected from its depths. Rank, rotten air shot from Caitlin’s mouth, and pounded Andrew back upon his own back. Odors of onion, spices, meat and saliva washed over him, the scents almost given mass and form themselves. After the last of Caitlin’s burp exited her great gullet, she let out a hearty laugh.

There was no pause, as her palm dropped down. Andrew felt his lips flap in response to air resistance, as he was brought even with her chest. She then swung her husband to her side, while her opposite arm rose up, exposing a hairy armpit. The wiry threads glistened with fresh sweat, and a fresh assault of musk assaulted Andrew’s senses.

The musk would grow far stronger, as he was slapped against her perspiring pit. While he had serviced such an area before, there were rare instances, if at all, that it had run with such a quantity of sour liquid. Andrew felt her electrolyte-enhanced fluid invade his eyes, his nose, and his mouth. He tasted the bitter foul sweat, but knew it to be futile to eject it. Thick, matted axila teased and touched every corner of his body. His soaked work suit provided inadequate protection from the assault of hairs.

Caitlin allowed herself a blissful exhale. Every muscle in her worked body began to loosen, all from the stimulating sensation of her husband’s puny form against her mighty underarm. Her palm was an imposing platform, keeping Andrew stuck against the musky area, even if he so desired to pull away.

Slowly, her arm lowered, before it was trapped to her side. Within the tight chamber, Andrew was captured in an aromatic armpit sauna. The temperature was easily twice of that in the kitchen. Hairs that had teased his body earlier, now threatened to envelop and entrap him in their soggy embrace. As he too, perspired, the line between Caitlin’s sweat and his own was unconditionally ambiguous.

“That stinky enough for you?” Caitlin mocked from the outside world.

Another giggle escaped his wife, as she felt him squirm within. Another gurgle erupted from her gut, but this time, its orientation was in the opposite vector.

At last, did she raise her arm again, taking care to place her opposite hand underneath her musky armpit. There was little need to, Andrew was adequately tangled and stuck in the area. He was able to pull his head away, and pull in some comparatively clean air. There was a certain shock that his body was no longer subject to Caitlin’s whims, but such a state would not last for long.

The rest of his body eventually detached itself from the sticky underarm, and he fell upon the vast plain of palm his wife had set underneath him. She would keep things moving, however, and he felt her palm swing around. He kept himself flat as he descended, fearing that his person would become detached from her hand, and float away should the momentum become too great. Such a fear was unfounded, as he had arrived to his next destination.

Bracing himself up on his arms, Andrew scouted his surroundings. It did not take him long to see where he had been transported to. Before him lay a vast dark structure. It was as navy blue as Caitlin’s shorts. He beheld two great hills, straining the nylon material that contained their bulbous contents. The valley between them was dark, as the dark side of the moon. It was this valley, that began rapidly approaching him.

Andrew was pressed into the slit flanked by Caitlin’s gigantic glutes. A far different scent, far more rotten, far more potent and far more gag inducing, invaded his senses. He did not require a sharp sense of hearing to pick out the rumblings that lay behind the nylon material. Dread filled him, but it was augmented by something else most contradictory.

As the thunderclouds drew close, Andrew was pressed even further into the valley of her tush. The smell had reached an intensity to a level such that Andrew could no longer register it. He could only determine its magnitude, and anticipate that it was going to become far worse.

“Maybe this’ll blow your nose off loser!” Caitlin shouted, a teasing prelude to what was to come.

Thunder struck. A blast of gas, with a magnitude to blow a hole through the earth, soared through the hidden sphincter, and smashed into Andrew. Gale force winds turned his head back forcibly, and even compelled his own shut eyelids to flap open. He could even feel his chest compress and his ribs rattle as the gas passed over him, or more accurately, through him. Smell was the least of what had assailed him.

Despite such a killer ripper, life and limb clung to Andrew. Energy sure did not.

The force of Caitlin’s gas had knocked Andrew back into her palm. He was listless, daring not to move a muscle.

Brought before her magnanimous face again, Caitlin took a long sniff through her nose, almost compelling Andrew into her nostrils. Her sniffer then scrunched as a result.

“Pee-yew, now you reek Andy!”

Her playful demeanor gradually faded. Once more, her hand lowered, bringing Andrew to her bounteous chest. Caitlin’s great tracts of land had thoroughly soaked her dark gray tank top. Incandescent light revealed the sheen of moisture that lurked within the cotton material.

There were no more words exchanged before Andrew was brought against her breast.

“Better wipe it off of you,” she muttered, as her hand began kneading her bosom.

The massive mound gave under pressure. Andrew too, made an impression in the fabric-covered mammary, although his contribution would go unseen. Caitlin’s breast, something that was noticeable in her figure, but not obnoxious, was an absolute monster of a landscape to Andrew. He had personally enjoyed the nights he was tasked to scale such a hill.

As he was brought across the titillating landscape, occasionally, Andrew would meet resistance on the path his wife’s hand had sent him on. Her nipple had become quite engorged, and even her own powerful movements struggled to get Andrew over the significant nub as she continued to rub her husband into her breast.

Each squeeze of pressure released some of the perspiration that lay within. Sweat soaked into his already soaked clothes. Andrew knew not whether sweat was replacing spit, or was being repelled, for it was all the same to him. The musk of her muggy shirt, proved a refreshing reprieve after being subject to the essence of her bowels, just minutes earlier.

Above, he could hear her breath growing ragged. A new desperation had taken place within, resembling a predator that needed to feed. So far, however, this beast was merely playing with its food. Its hunger, however, would soon be satiated.

Caitlin’s hand drew away from her bosom. A fresh layer of sweat coated her hand, as well as the minuscule man that lay against it.

Her free hand, then lifted the hem of her shirt. The vast terrain of Caitlin’s belly was revealed before Andrew’s eyes, and he could not help but gawk at the organized dunes of abdominals that strengthened and supported his wife’s core. Trails of sweat streaked down her textured stomach, before ending at her waist.

Caitlin almost slapped Andrew against her abs, and treated him the same as she had treated him against her breast. Pressure had become a concern, for the muscles of her belly were not as tender as the softness of her mammary. Despite the initial shock, Andrew maintained himself, as he was swept against rivers of musk, brought over plateaus of tensed muscle, and lead into the grand valleys between them.

The giantess’ motions had become more relaxed, more casual. She had begun sauntering over to the bedroom. Caitlin felt her hips swaying, even though at his current position, there was no way Andrew would be able to appreciate such a gesture. Great heat was emanating from her waist. Even though Andrew was currently being rubbed against her own organic washboard, there were still many other places he had yet to venture.

Caitlin flicked on the lights, before making her way over to the bed. Balance was becoming an issue for her, for desire and passion had been accumulating from the first instant she had caught sight of her husband. Leaning her rear against the bed, Andrew was dragged even lower.

He passed over the band of her nylon pants. No longer against taut, toned skin, he found himself embraced in a plain of silky fabric. No longer was he guided by the palm of his wife’s hand. Now, two oversized digits, both her pointer and middle finger, enveloped his form as he traveled southward. From the seam that ran from his feet to his head, and from the overwhelming odor of a sensuous nature, Andrew immediately knew where he resided at that moment.

With a moan, Caitlin pressed her husband against her groin.

Up against her loins, with only a two-tiered barrier of panties and sport shorts separating them, Andrew felt a sensation of heat like never before. Even the sauna of Caitlin’s armpits had never been quite as searing as what he experienced now. The material oppressing him was moist, but it was not due to the excretion of an intense workout. Something completely different stuck to him.

Andrew then realized heat of the same nature was coursing through his own body.

Pressure from Caitlin’s fingers only appeared to increase. Andrew could not determine from texture alone, what lay beyond the barrier of nylon. Only heat and intimate moisture provided him an indicator. That, and the stifled moans that roared from above.

Caitlin was finding it increasingly hard to remain on her feet. Her legs, powerful and toned as they were, had turned to jelly. Her breathing, once simply heavy and labored, had become desperate and rapid. Even the simple act of staying silent proved a formidable challenge, for the sensation of Andrew pressed into her privates overloaded nearly all other motor functions. She savored this most exquisite experience, even though her shorts had dampened what pleasure could have been derived had they been out of the way.

Her pace hastened. The silky athletic material had felt pleasant moments before, but was now becoming an irritant upon Andrew’s skin. Air had become rare, and every time he had an opportunity to draw breath, Caitlin’s smell, her own unique mark of unconditional passion, flowed into his system.

The giantess’ mewls rapidly rose in pitch. Silver eyes squeezed shut, as her head leaned back. Soon, ecstasy spilled over. Andrew could feel the area he had been smashed up against overflow with moisture. He was held with such pressure against his wife’s crotch, that he could drink of the discharge from her shorts like a soaked cloth. Such liquid possessed a funky tang, tempered with an underlying sweetness. Once tasted, did Andrew thrust his head forth, if only to acquire a greater sample of his wife’s flowing nectar.

Finally, did Caitlin bring her finger away. Strands of viscous liquid still clung to the massive digit, as well as its passenger. From under her waist, Andrew ascended. His skin felt chilly, for there was a dramatic drop in temperature he experienced, having been released from the confines of her nylon-covered nethers.

The office man allowed himself to lie back. His soaked body rolled down from Caitlin’s fingers, before coming to a stop in her palm. Andrew’s ribs felt a tad tense, while his left knee proved a bit painful to bend. With no broken bones, he would have to consider his experience a triumph.

Caitlin too, had to rest. Her legs were hoisted up, before settling down on the comforter covering the bed. Meanwhile, her back rested against the bedframe, trapping the pillow between her and the wall.

Before her face, he was brought before it once more. He gave his wife a knowing smile, and even felt a clever comment on the tip of his tongue.

His tongue, however, had been caught in his throat.

Andrew’s own eyes widened in fear, palpably etched into his dark irises. Frenzy was still apparent in Caitlin’s silvery orbs. The beast within was as potent as ever. Not a limb of his could move, for fright alone paralyzed even the slightest of actions. It was even necessary to force himself to breathe.

The storm had not passed over him. He lay within its eye, the sole spot of calm within the fiercest areas. The easy part was over.

Caitlin was mute. The only sound she made was that of ragged breath. A fresh sheen of sweat glistened upon her forehead. Slowly, was Andrew drawn towards her mouth. It proved a measured motion, as heaving lips grew in size, while shrinking in distance with each passing second.

Her mouth parted ever slightly, revealing the ivory sheen of her teeth. Pants had transformed into growls, as she eyed the fresh piece of meat splayed out on her hand. Andrew’s black pants betrayed apparent enthusiasm, despite the man’s anxieties. But, there was no knowing if his wife noticed. Perhaps, it did not matter.

Hot breath washed over him once more. Heavy lips slid over Andrew’s face, giving him a fresh coat of fluid that did not compare to the sludge he endured moments before. He winced as flat enamel scraped against him, brushing against wet articles of clothing.

Caitlin’s growls were growing desperate, as her teeth continued their assault on Andrew’s diminutive form. He groaned in pain, for his wife’s teeth were rather hard. His hands beat against her lips. Yet, he did not voice a single objection. His logical side concluded it was useless. His other side … had far different reasons.

A fold of Andrew’s shirt was then caught between massive blocks of incisors. His back ached as he was briefly yanked off of her palm. As he witnessed her imposing rows of teeth clench down, a frightful voice, driven purely by his instincts of flight, squeaked out from his quaking mouth.

“C-cait? What are you-”

With a mighty tug, his shirt, and undershirt tore. Gone too, were his pants, the shreds of which mingled with the pale ribbons of his shirt, a black and white modern art masterpiece. His belt snapped, and fell away. Even Andrew's dark briefs were not spared, annihilated by his wife’s bite. The only articles remaining on the office man's person were his black socks.

The tattered debris of his work clothes hung from Caitlin’s mouth like a mangled corpse.

Released from her enamel grip, he fell back into her palm. A gentle breeze flew over his mostly nude form. Thick black hair was splayed against his wife’s skin. As her hand retreated, Caitlin spat out her husband’s mangled outfit, letting it crash into a heap on the bedsheets.

She looked upon the defeated form of her husband. Her eyes memorized his young, anguished face, and his moist, porcelain-pale skin. Never before, had he appeared so delicate.

Her heart could only race faster. Upon viewing him, helpless, weak, vulnerable, it was clear that she had triumphed in this contest. She was the victor. And to the victor, go the spoils.

The sweaty hand curled around Andrew. Trapped again in a muggy canopy, he felt his own heart racing. Caitlin’s mighty arms moved quickly, subjecting Andrew to unforgiving vertigo. He was deposited just above her waistline, which now lay flat upon the bed.

Andrew could only gaze ahead of him, memorizing the dunes of abs he had been subject to that evening. The weight of his wife’s fingers pressed down upon his back. Her torso curved up, past the mounds of bosoms, and up to her face. Never did her eyes leave him. The hunger he had witnessed had only grown.

The hand that oppressed him so slid him against her skin. Andrew dared to look what lay above. Caitlin’s free hand had lent a thumb that had pulled back the waistline of her shorts. Also caught in its grip stretched the gray fabric of her panties. Strands of a viscous liquid clung to it, originating from a dubious destination that lay beyond.

She guided him down a thick forest of hairs. Andrew had frequently compared such an area to prairie grass, but now, it was more akin to a swamp. Moisture clung to the wiry strands. In a similar manner to her armpits, they tickled, teased and touched his bare body. The skin underneath had notably transitioned from taut and firm, to tender and moist. Andrew’s waist was pressed into the steamy ground below, and as a result, his journey across such terrain proved a tantalizing experience.

Shadow had overtaken him, for the sky had gone a dark gray. If the ground was her exposed private area, the ceiling was her underwear.

As the forest thinned, the ground grew even swampier. A mass of flesh opposed Andrew’s path, causing Caitlin’s finger to pause.

The bead of flesh crowned a maw that served as a vast entrance to a vicious cavern. Caitlin’s great digit, along with her passenger, began to slowly circle around the nub. Soggy flesh grew sweltering and tender as he was pressed against the sensitive area.

Another moan escaped her maw. Caitlin had dispensed with such feeble attempts to enjoy herself in a quiet manner. She could not view much from her vantage, just the outlines of her hand within the nylon furiously racing over her loins. Her tender, private flesh experienced all that her diminutive husband had to offer. Each limb, torso, or even the fleeting sensation of his own loins, sent uncontrollable shivers down her spine. At her feet, toes had begun to clench, bunching up the bedsheets beneath them.

Rapidly did her fingers work. As she did so, her breathing hastened. A second wave of ecstasy was upon her, and she was in a hurry to claim it while it was hers to take. With a mighty push that plunged Andrew’s face directly into the tantalizing musk of her clitoris, climax was upon her once more. The gateway of her womanhood was opened, and discharge flowed freely.

For a second, she rested. She mouthed a couple of frustrated fowl exclamations, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” while her other hand decided to dispense with ceremony. Soaked shorts and soppy lingerie were yanked down her legs. Caitlin did not bother kicking of the discarded articles, allowing them to be bunched up at her knees. Light revealed a hairy pubic mound, crowning an engorged, red-hot entrance to her most intimate area.

Andrew was slid even further down. Fleshy lips massaged his own tired tissue. Lecherous liquor leaked out of the massive entrance, coating him in a layer thicker than perspiration could even hope to.

Caitlin peered over the incline of her chest, her hungry eyes consuming the erotic image before her. Two fingers guided Andrew around her groin, absolutely dominating his scant silhouette. His limbs flailed helplessly as a result of sudden shifts of momentum, while his face remained buried in scorching hot flesh. Such helplessness fueled the fire that blazed with in, and her efforts increased in ferocity.

Her mind was a haze of consciousness, surrendering to the passionate sensations of the one she had devoted her life, her own soul to. The man she treasured above all others was subject to her mighty womanhood, drinking of its thick waters, and massaged against its tender surface. As her eyes were forced shut by pleasure itself, she gave into pure instinct.

Andrew was pulled away from the swollen labia. He took advantage, drawing in great breaths, as he gazed at the cave before him. At this point, his destination was inevitable. Even now, subject to the absolute whims of his wife’s gratification, he was determined to survive the hurricane.

As her fingers shot forward, he was plunged into the fierce, roaring clouds of the hurricane. His fate was out of his hands.

The depths of his wife were dark. His eyes could not behold reddened, swollen flesh that made up the canal he resided in, nor could they perceive the rivers of nectar flowing through the cavern. He could, however, experience such things on every inch of his own skin.

Caitlin’s fingers furiously massaged him around the edge of her titillating tunnel. Waves upon waves of juices swallowed Andrew’s form, threatening to drown him in a sticky mess. The digits that pressed him into flesh gave the impression that if they used enough force, he would be merged with the loins that had swallowed him up.

In many ways, Andrew could no longer distinguish himself from his hot and heavy surroundings. Truly, two beings had been united in one flesh. Each of his senses was that of Caitlin, and only of Caitlin. His sight, when light was allowed to seep in, could only perceive red folds of flesh, and opaque strands of nectar. His ears picked up the sloshing of liquid, the slithering of her innards, the drum of her heart, and distant howling of her voice. He touched only of her walls, and the pads of her fingers that forced him around. He smelled her dominating pungent musk that was beyond arousal at this point.

The giantess began to involuntarily buck her hips, while her fingers thrust even further, drawing Andrew deep within her. Her speech, when not punctuated with mewls, whines or howls, repeated only her husband’s name, putrid profanities, or sacred hosannas to the Almighty. All of this was exclaimed with the decibels necessary to notify the entire neighborhood.

Soon enough, it was clear her present position would prove inadequate for her pleasure. Caitlin turned over, burying her face into her now sweaty pillow, while using her knees to proper her waist high into the air. Her shorts and underwear, bunched at her knees, now rode down to her calves, and lay stretched across the bedspread.

Andrew did not detect the shift in orientation. In fact, he was in no position to detect anything whatsoever that occurred outside of his moist prison. The fingers that were his slavers, were also his protectors, guarding him every time Caitlin’s pulsating cavern clenched up to claim him. Between massive releases, her fingers were generous enough to allow him time to draw breath, before plunging him back in again. While there was no doubt to the ecstasy experienced by his beloved, Andrew had also, by instinct, provided his own paltry contributions that mixed into the torrent of liquid that assailed him.

As the night drew on, the luxuries of fresh air grow less common for Andrew, as he was thrust deeper inside. Now, as Caitlin rested on her knees, and her fingers pumped up to their base like an organic piston, Andrew could only breathe of the concentrated air of his wife’s carnivorous cavern. Such was his depth, that every thrust bashed him against another entrance, a tight portal of flesh that guarded an even more precious chamber within.

It was against Caitlin’s cervix, where her final climax was reached. It was the ninth of the night, and the greatest of all. A roar that could have shaken apart the planet exited her mouth, as her intimate innards sent a flood of fluid in a torrential downpour. Massive drops of liquid soaked the area under her thighs, as the tide of passion overcame her.

The storm had finally passed.

As fluid continued to leak out of Caitlin, Andrew found himself sliding down the length of her fingers. The digits still lay embedded deep within. Slowly, she drew them out, dragging Andrew along.

He crossed the threshold, emerging from her tired lips in a free fall. Andrew did not scream, for he did not have the energy to. Instead, gravity took him the span of his wife’s thighs, before he bounced upon the soft mattress. A puddle of liquid awaited him, and his impact was wet. There was some difficulty raising his head from the thick discharge, but at last, his breathing was unimpeded.

Caitlin felt her heart slow. A warm glow emanated from her loins, as well as her chest. Exhaustion had emerged like a sleeping beast, and threatened her eyes with closure.

Just before slumber took her, in a groaning, tender voice, she muttered, “I missed you so much Andrew…”

When Caitlin fell asleep, her hips had begun to lower upon the bed. Andrew lay directly under her crotch, and could only gaze up hopelessly as her bushy privates descended on top of him. Feebly, he raised his arms in defense, the logical side of his mind far exhausted by that point. Heavy flesh and wiry hairs pressed him into the mattress, as his wife’s titanic form settled down. Every plea that he could have made would have been stifled underneath the mammoth mass of musk.

Caitlin’s sleeping position appeared most undignified. Resting on her belly, her mouth hung open, already leaking drool. Her legs were splayed out, one of them hanging on to her discarded shorts and underwear. A bare behind, taut, yet bounteous all the same, lay stuck into the air for all to admire.

There Andrew lay, drenched in his wife’s putrid, womanly discharge, smothered by the flesh of her privates, and entangled in the wiry hairs that guarded her still-leaking cavern. The bed springs below bore the majority of her countless tonnes of buttocks and waist that rested on top of him. Had it not, Andrew would be but a crimson smear coating her pubes. Every bone in his body ached, yet the pain resembled the burn of an intense massage, not the pang of popped joints or splintered limbs. All of his reserves, from his energy, to his own loins, had been sapped dry.

Perhaps he should have felt humiliated, not merely being dominated, but utterly, thoroughly ravaged in the most lopsided manner possible. Yet, within his spent body, lay a warmth that possessed little distinction to that which loomed above.

In his last act, he craned his neck, so his face would meet the musty blanket above.

Upon her flesh, he laid a kiss. It was a small, almost insignificant peck. Her warmth was tender on his lips. It compelled him to redouble his efforts. Multiple caresses serviced the pubic ceiling that draped over him. His act was punctuated by burying his face into her skin, before his body relaxed.

Before he drifted to sleep underneath the sanctuary of Caitlin’s mons pubis, he murmured to the tangled sky above, “I missed you too, honey.”

…

At the break of dawn they laid there, husband and wife, snuggling against each other as best as they could. Caitlin was the first to wake. Her night’s rest had gone undisturbed, and she had not even moved from her original position. She groaned as she observed the clock, indicating early morning. Her eyes remained half-lidded, as they adjusted to the new day. With sluggish fingers, a few of which were coated in a suspicious, brittle crust, she massaged her temples. There was a tingle on her rump, for her skin there was exposed to the cool bedroom air.

Caitlin’s back arched, as she struggled to lift her fatigued torso off the mattress. An exquisite thrill stirred within her thighs. The woman paused, for she did not know where, or in what way this sensation began. Instinctively, her hips pressed down, enhancing the effect.

Her lips trembled, as her waist began to rhythmically buck into the musty sheets below. Pleasure pulsed in her loins, only encouraging her to redouble her efforts. A hazy mind, meanwhile, attempted to recall just what had occurred before she was lulled to sleep.

Andrew was now fully awake. He had to be, for the motions he had been unwittingly strung along were great enough. The bedsheets underneath were still moist, unable to evaporate under such weight and pressure. His legs were pressed by something that jutted out from the privates that loomed overhead. He was dragged across an expanse of cloth, back and forth, up and down, as the tender area above smothered him even more so. A desperate hand grasped the skin above. He could feel it pulse in his grip, and even experience the distant vibrations of an enormous heart.

Pressure continued to mount as Caitlin humped the bedspread. Andrew’s hands beat against her pubis, shouting out, “Hold your horses Caitlin!”

When it was clear his own diminutive voice had no effect, he made sure to grab on to stray hairs, fearing what would happen if her inverted forest lost its grip on him.

The giantess bit into her pillow as she reached the conclusion of her curious morning movement. Release flowed down her passionate folds, washing anew her trapped husband.

He returned, didn’t he?

As clarity returned, Caitlin rotated her head to the side, finding Andrew’s usual spot empty. While not as level headed as her beloved, it did not take long for her to put two and two together.

Rapidly, she turned on her back. Light hit her unshaven crotch, and immediately she could pick out a shape that did not normally reside there.

Rose red became her cheeks in an instant she made her discovery. Caitlin’s lips quivered, causing her to stutter as she quipped, “H-hanging out down there alright?”

There was no confidence the toothy grin she flashed. A few fingers gently wove through her bush, untangling her husband from the wiry mess. With a firm, yet almost delicate grip on his chest, he was extracted from her privates. Over the landscape of her physique he traveled, before being brought before her face. He smelled entirely of her, for a thick coating of sensuous syrup etched into every fiber of his form.

Caitlin’s expression was a clear foil from the night before. Where hunger lay, now there was humiliation. Where ferocity prowled, now lurked regret and sorrow.

No words escaped from her massive maw, forcing Andrew to break the silence.

“Had fun last night?”

Caitlin’s eyes desperately darted around, attempting to avoid eye-contact with the man held in front of her face.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlin said, slowly shaking her head.

“Sorry?” Andrew inquired, “What for?”

“I might as well have treated you like a chew toy,” Caitlin explained, letting out a sigh that sent Andrew swaying in her grip.

Andrew reflected his wife’s sigh, “Cait, you sweat it too much … heck, you sweat too much in general, I was swimming in it.”

“I know, I’m sor-“

“But, I’m really glad about what happened yesterday,” he finished, “There’s no better way to return to the woman you love. Also, your breath stinks.”

A soft, hearty chuckle, escaped his wife, as relief swept over her. Andrew was pulled in for a kiss, a soft, tender embrace that was far from the passionate assault of the previous day. Caitlin’s mouth morphed into a bright smile. The heart that beat behind her bounteous chest seemed to flutter.

“So … you think nine months from now … we’re gonna be waking up little Andrew Jr. for the first time?”

It was now Andrew’s turn to blush, and blush furiously he did.

“Uhh,” he giddily faltered, “I hope so. I was literally spraying and praying last night.” A hearty laugh then wracked his body.

His wife’s face drew close, closer than ever before. But, she wasn’t pulling him in for another kiss. In a breathy whisper, did she put forth her own suggestion.

“Maybe, uh, before I make breakfast, one more round just to be sure?”

To his back, Caitlin’s great pillars of thigh had begun to part. Her breathing was beginning to become heavy.

Andrew rolled his eyes, before flashing his wife a knowing smirk, “Oh bother, might as well.”