Their residence was shrouded in darkness. Even relief from pale moonlight was not present, for the moon itself was new. Luckily for Andrew, navigating such a dark atrium would not be a challenge. The worst that could happen would that he would be lost, requiring him to regain his bearings.

His footsteps were light as he snuck through the kitchen. From the soft, but booming snores he heard through the wall, it was necessary for him to stifle unnecessary noise.

Wait a minute, I’m the size of an insect to her, I can stomp around the house like a bull in a China shop, and I won’t wake her up.

Force of habit compelled Andrew to maintain his soft gait. There was a small growl from within his stomach. Despite this, he did not venture towards the refrigerator, situated at the far wall, nor the pantry, which lay adjacent to the back porch. He instead, took a sharp turn to the right, towards the entrance to the bedroom.

His wife’s deep, booming snores had grown more apparent as he stood in front of the towering door. With little trouble, he slipped underneath the crack in the doorway.

Caitlin’s hulking form rested atop the bed. She was on her side, presenting a bare, chiseled back to Andrew. The only article of modesty she had bothered with were a pair of white panties, which struggled to contain her bulbous bottom. Stocky, sinewy legs were slightly bent, allowing the calloused pads of her feet to face out. Even in the dark, the soft ambient light of their alarm clock provided just enough for him to admire the scenery.

Her torso slightly rose and fell as she slumbered. After a pause, Andrew resumed walking, assuming a brisk pace. His brow furrowed as he waded through scratchy carpet fibers, some which proved too friendly with his office suit; a white, collared shirt and black pants.

As he drew close to the bed, the structure loomed over him much like his office building. Regardless, his pace did not let up. Soon, the mattress was his ceiling, obscuring him in near darkness. With confidence, he navigated his way underneath the bed.

Near a wall lay a doorway his size. It led to a small restroom, one of appropriate scale for his use. His own lavatory was arranged in much the same way as Caitlin’s, except the surfaces of each appliance, from the sink, the toilet and the shower were practically immaculate and spotless. As Andrew washed his face, his reflection was perfectly portrayed in an oval-shaped mirror, clear as crystal. He did scrunch his nose upon discovering a small watermark near the edge of the glass, and made a note to get rid of it once he had time.

But now, there was no time. Exhaustion clung to his limbs as he disrobed and stepped into the shower. Hot, steamy water and cleansing solutions did little to rejuvenate him.

Despite a thorough washing, Andrew’s shower lasted not even five minutes. He had neatly folded his discarded office wear, and set them aside. Clothed in nothing but his boxers, he marched swiftly out from under the bed, towards the platform leading up to the top of the nightstand.

Ascending the lift allowed him to gaze upon his wife at rest once more. Luscious dark locks flowed over her neck, and fell upon a pillow fit to be a basketball court. Her head lay at half-court, causing the surface to dip down to accommodate its great mass. His wife, even among her peers, certainly possessed a thick skull.

Andrew had ventured over the gap between the nightstand and the mattress. His feet sunk into the bedsheets. As he traversed the soft terrain, he found his head turning southward.

The dark of night could not conceal the rather fantastic sight of Caitlin’s panty-clad rear. Andrew was as a crossroads, as he gazed back at the pillow. He only needed to travel past her head, and pick a spot far enough from her so that he would not be trapped under a cheek or drooled on. It was a simple task, and as sleep hovered over his eyes, a most needed one.

However, while Andrew was a man of pragmatism, he was also a man of culture. Beauty was something he indeed could appreciate, and with it staring back at him, he had to answer its call. With cautious footfalls, he traveled alongside the length of his wife, admiring the great dunes of muscle that shaped her back. Dark eyes traced the valley made by her spine, and took note of every vertebrae that jutted out from her skin.

The wall of her back narrowed as he travelled further south. Andrew remained fixated on his destination. Caitlin’s buttocks strained against their white fabric containment. Her panties indeed, conformed to the bulbous shape of toned, taut glutes. Material appeared to bunch and fold over in the crease between.

Such a sight could not be taken in all at once. Andrew remained nearby, for if her were to back away to capture even more of her glorious derriere, he risked getting knocked off the bed. Yet, the close proximity possessed several advantages. The office man could make out the texture of skin not concealed by underwear. A faint, but rather unpleasant smell tickled his nostrils, but it was nothing that could dissuade him.

The mattress shifted beneath him. Caitlin’s movements stirred the soft, but vast tectonic plates that he stood on.

What he witnessed before him resembled a tsunami rolling over a coastline. Caitlin was tilting over on her back. Her bounteous rear was along for the ride, and it threatened to completely engulf Andrew underneath its tantalizing tonnage.

Bulbous buttocks fell like a meteorite to end the era of the dinosaurs. Snapping out of his trance, Andrew sensed danger, and sprung into a sprint. As he huffed, he could only admit out loud, “That’s what I get for taking the scenic route.”

He was headed towards her thighs, counting on the gap between them to spare him. But as her monolithic glutes drew close, the sight of the gap began to fade.

Despite his efforts, it became increasingly clear that he would not evade the great descending cheeks. Still, even considering the hopelessness of the situation, Andrew leapt forward.

Immediately, he was entrapped by white fabric, and pressed into the mattress. Andrew had managed to position himself beneath the seam of the paired globes, yet still, the overpowering mass of the rump above had effectively immobilized him. The impact almost knocked him unconscious, for the shock of being smashed by something of immense heft was indescribable. In utter blackness he lay, compressed on all sides by warm, white fabric.

A fermented, rotten smell began to invade his nostrils. This was combined with a stale odor that wafted from the cotton material that was currently oppressing him. Curious, he continued to sniff, as it was the only movement his body would be allowed for the next couple of hours.

“Heh, three days,” he commented, “old habits die hard eh?”

Luckily, as he lay in between glutes, Andrew was able to find more wiggle room. His shoulder’s shimmied, and he felt himself able to drag his body gradually forward over the bedsheets.

His progress halted at the sound of a rumble that had come from above.

Andrew sighed as best he could, “Just my luck.”

The rumbling only grew in intensity. Rotten odors also increased, forcing Andrew to take in more of its foul smell.

Finally, what lay within the resting rear was unleashed. A stream of gas shot through like a thunder strike from the sky above, blasting Andrew further into the mattress. His bones screamed in pain, for the pressure assaulting him was significant.

The rotten, foul odor that had been barely detected earlier, was now the only scent Andrew could perceive. So intense, the smell of the hostile gas was, it had taken upon a completely different nature. Hot air burned his nostrils and moistened his eyes. Briefly, did he wonder if he would be able to differentiate anything else, other than the smell of waste and rectum.

“And I just took a shower!” he fumed, although Andrew’s lamentations were muffled by fabric and flesh.

Soon enough did the flatulence pass. Andrew still lay in a predicament, yet after suffering from such an assault by his sleeping wife, his progress in freeing himself would be delayed. She doesn’t mind if I go sightseeing. Still, if I’m caught like this in the morning, I’m going to be late for work.

Lightning rarely struck the same location twice. But the thundercloud that he found himself under was no ordinary nimbus.

When a second fart thundered through her almighty sphincter, Andrew’s constitution shattered. The force, the smell, the pressure, all overwhelmed his senses. He was banished to a state of unconsciousness, nothing but the musk of his wife’s putrid innards on his brain.

…

Clear blue skies and a sun at its apex gave the lakeside sands a pearly white sheen. While the lake itself at its deepest parts was a comforting dark blue color, near the shoreline, it had taken on a dirty, muddy brown hue. A few boats, both sail ships and motorized speeders, raced across the shimmering surface at varying velocities. Meanwhile, at the shoreline, a plurality of beach-goers splashed and floated within a bob-lined zone.

Of course, the more water-wary occupied the grainy sands. Several children constructed, or attempted to construct sand-castles. Those in the throes of puberty found less amusement in building up structures, instead settling to bury their friends, or their enemies from the neck down in the soft terrain.

Others took the time to indulge in romance. A man looking over the shoreline with his girlfriend, waxed poetic on his negative disposition towards sand, He found the course, rough, irritating granules, that managed to find themselves anywhere and everywhere, a putrid reminder of his labor-intensive childhood.

To the side, a mile’s high chain-link fence sectioned off a piece of the shoreline. The fence was more a marker than an actual barrier, for the links provided large enough openings that nearly three people could file through. A great sign was attached to the intersecting metal wires, reading “Giantess Zone: Enter at Your Own Risk”.

There were risk takers among the beach goers, some simply toeing the line as to aggravate authority. Others completely ignored it, for a variety of reasons. On the opposite side, towering woman thundered about, although their numbers were limited. They were clad in the same kind of articles as their smaller counterparts. The sand they stepped upon was as powder to them. There was a curious addition of several red splotches. These peculiar aberrations were rare among the pale canvas of sand, but to some of the more cautious, they served as an even more blatant warning than any large sign ever could.

None of these crimson stains lingered near a particular giant. She was resting face-down upon her slanted beach chair. Much like many of the beach goers, her modesty was limited. She wore a pale olive two-piece swimsuit. Her trunks were shorts in the most generous sense, covering the smallest amount of thigh possible. The waterproof material strained and stretched over her generous rear, leaving little to the imagination.

Her top would have covered her sculpted dorsal expanse in a crossing pattern, were it not for the fact that the straps to do so were undone. Thick auburn locks, meanwhile only made it to her neck. Only a few strands rested on the great plain.

Meanwhile, her mountainous bosom lay concealed by both the thick threads of her chair, as well as the front of her swimsuit. The giantess’s swimwear overall required greater imagination than most others who settled for skimpy bikinis. Still, her hardened physique was being admired by at least one other beach-goer.

He was an insect compared to her. While the giantess’s complexion appeared quite acquainted with the sun, his appeared less so. Despite this, not a mark of red appeared on his skin, for he was doused in a thick, greasy, pale substance. He wore only black swimtrunks, revealing a skinny, yet not quite emancipated build.

In a great puddle, the sunscreen was gathered, precisely in the middle of her shoulder blades. Skinny arms moved frantically, spreading the grease around her vast terrain. While he found the skin smooth, he would occasionally have to slather the substance most judiciously around a volleyball sized dimple, or across a small hill of scar tissue.

While the comparatively diminutive man worked diligently, he would take small breaks in regular intervals. Dark eyes would scrutinize the landscape. Each time, a small, mischievous smile would form upon his thin lips.

Caitlin’s booming alto rattled the organic ground beneath him, “This honeymoon stuff, I kinda don’t get it. I’d much rather be working on the house. I just need some painting and wiring done, and bam, we’ve got ourselves a residence!”

Andrew nodded, although such a gesture would be unseen, “I kinda feel naked not being in the office for so long.”

A small chuckle rumbled from beneath, “Andy, you’re married to that office. I’m a bit jealous.”

Her husband returned the chuckle, “What can I say, it’s quite spacious and curvaceous, although ...”

He stole another glance down her back. Of particular interest was a pair of pale-olive hills. It was while he was entranced by this auspicious sight, he continued, “… The vista of this place is better than advertised.”

The world tilted, forcing the miniscule man to find some form of purchase. Caitlin’s skin had been rendered slippery from the sunscreen, and her athletic physique ensured it was tight and taut. A few stray hairs prevented Andrew from sliding down into the curvature of her spine, his thin arms gripping them most tightly.

Caitlin, however, had merely attempted to look back, and had to raise her torso to do so. As she glanced out into the shimmering lake, she curled her lips.

“I dunno,” she countered, “The lake’s a bit swampy. Not complaining about the price though.”

Silvery eyes then focused upon her puny passenger, “The service on the other hand is top notch.”

She shot Andrew a wink to emphasize her intent.

With such a small stature, however, the gesture had flown over his head. “Seems a bit bare bones, if I’m honest.” he disagreed.

For a moment, the ambiance of the flowing lake, and idle chatter of beach-goers, big and small, was all that passed between the two. But, it was for only a moment. In the next, both burst out laughing, Caitlin’s own chortle sending Andrew sliding down a few feet before finding other place-holds to secure him.

“Something caught your fancy?” he asked, after allowing himself to calm.

“Yeah,” she responded, shooting her husband a smile, “the hunk greasing up my back is looking real tasty.”

Andrew’s eyes quickly darted around, as if he expected to have company upon his wife’s backside.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, perhaps a bit too quickly, “There’s no one else here.”

His cheeks had turned a bright red, but this was not from sunburn.

Caitlin let out an aggravated huff, “It’s you, dor-”

Her attention was immediately drawn directly down. In the shadow cast by her beach-side chair, a small crowd of a dozen or so stood. Much like the beach goers, these particular individuals wore very little, but instead of revealing bikinis and wavy swim trunks, their attire was made of hand-patched cloth wrapped haphazardly around their waists. They were made of mostly men, but there were one or two women. The women wore their scraps of clothes in the same manner of the men, showing off their bare chests.

At least half of the group clearly enjoyed food and drink more than exercise, and wished to hide their skeletons as best they could under great folds of fat. The other half, meanwhile appeared to be repulsed by the very idea of eating, content on showing off their own bones underneath a thin layer of skin. Almost all were poorly groomed, sporting wild matted hair, and scraggly beards.

There was one clear leader, for he stood out among the rest. Along with his cloth wraps, he sported a white sash covering one shoulder, crossing his chest to his waist. The distinguishing sash rolled over broad, rounded, bulging pectorals and crossed abdominals sculpted from diamond, putting even Caitlin’s mountainous core to shame. His beard, while still visible, was neatly trimmed, while his thick, brown hair was pulled into a ponytail.

In one aspect the group was uniform in was the eyes. There was no concrete description that Caitlin could give them from her vantage, but they looked as pilgrims upon reaching a holy shrine. Each pupil glowed with something strange, alien, but in some ways, familiar. It was similar to viewing a cross-bred animal, for their wild glares were in-between the spectrum of pure reverence, and deadly lust.

Two arms, fit to be official military branches themselves, rose to the heavens. His followers quickly prostrated upon the ground.

“Oh praise be!” he cried out in a deep bellow, “Allow us to do homage to your divine image, oh mighty goddess!”

The so-called mighty goddess, felt an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, as she murmured, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Caitlin didn’t care that her voluminous vocal chords carried her booming slander down to the ears of her apparent apostles.

“We are truly blessed by the sight of you goddess!” he continued, spitting out every consonant and singing every vowel of his sermon, “Behold, the hills and valleys of your incredible muscles! The soft curve of your breasts! The great plain of your thighs! And the enticing image of your sumptuous feet! Truly, you are a statue of heavenly perfection! We humbly ask that we, wretched souls here, may gaze upon you goddess.”

Large ears picked of a caustic cackle. Upon her back, she felt a tickle. Turing her head, she saw that Andrew was rolling on his own back, laughing up a storm. He rolled about her greasy skin, unable to quiet the tumultuous tremors his cheerful diaphragm had bestowed him.

A lead-colored glare was shot at her newly-wed husband, who took noticed and ceased his merry-making. He still sported a mischievous smile, something Caitlin wished to set aside time to simply admire, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

“Someone is trying to kill me,” she seethed, “My heart is going to crush itself into a singularity from all this cringe.”

Andrew only widened his smile in response. Rolling her eyes, the giantess returned her attention to the cultists, who had intensified their worship. Each member appeared content to allow their head to smack the sands as they bowed. Even their leader, once proud and tall, had now begun to degrade himself as much has his followers. Praises and hosannas were sent her way, and there was nothing Caitlin could do to avoid them.

Stuttering greatly, she stated, “Uh … buddy … I’m not quite into the goddess thing.”

The Leader paused his prostrations, “Oh, a test my goddess. I shall prove our fealty to you, oh mighty matriarch!”

“You people need Jesus,” she rebuked.

“I have shed the need for our mortal, feeble superstitions,” spoke the man most sacrilegiously, “You, oh mighty one, are the only thing I believe in! It is you who possess power, real power, here on earth! Not our vain imaginations of divinity!”

So much for being a goddess, I can’t even control my own followers. I don’t know why other gals my size indulge in this stupid crap.

Shifting her eyes, and shifting trains of thought, Caitlin decided to settle upon her trump card, “What if I told you guys, I ain’t indulging whatever you’re doing here? I’m married!”

She presented her hand to the crowd. Her fingers spread, so they could catch the golden brand that had been bequeathed to her most recently.

Her actions took immediate effect. The cultists froze, not daring to bend another inch. Several members gasped. A few threatened to faint.

“Blasphemy!” bellowed the leader, shooting an accusatory finger to the sky, “What putrid bug had the gall to try to enslave you to that defunct mortal institution? We shall relieve that stain of humanity from your divine presence goddess!”

The man’s muscles bulged as he cracked his knuckles. His followers appeared eager, on the tips of their toes, as if to spring into action. Eagerly they awaited his command, for whichever daring, if reckless, scheme he had in mind.

At this sight, Caitlin clenched her teeth. Her brow furrowed, while her eyes widened and grew bloodshot. She felt her hand’s grip the frame of her chair, as pure fury pumped through her veins. Her formidable muscles bulged, almost on instinct, allowing her to assume a threatening posture. As her frame had taken up the entire sky, Caitlin certainly did resemble an angry deity, ready to pass down a most vengeful judgment.

“That ‘stain of humanity’ is my fucking husband you dick!” she spat, allowing insult after insult to fly out from her mouth without much thought, “Fuck off and trash-talk some other lady’s guy, or I’m gonna stomp you into the sand you little shit!”

Andrew could only witness the scene with an amused expression. Upon hearing his wife’s foul abuse, he commented in a playful manner, “Language.”

His half-hearted attempts at politeness would go ignored.

There was a moan, a most obscene noise that left little to interpretation. Immediately, the cult leader began to grovel. From within his tattered robes, it was clear he had comprehended most deeply the threat that had been erected before him.

“Oh dear,” he lamented, in a tone that was more fit for a seedy hotel room, “we have offended the goddess! It is clear, we are not worthy of your mercy! We offer our lives so that your righteous vengeance might be sated. Our destiny is to be but red stains, smothered within your bounteous breasts, flattened under your all-encompassing ass, and annihilated under your perfect feet!”

As he listed the various, racy ways he and his fellows would meet their ends, the group had begun heaving in a manner similar to rabid dogs.

Perspiration poured down Caitlin’s face, but this was not due to the afternoon sun. Her eyes darted to and fro, attempting to avoid the ravenous throes of people before her.

“These guys literally are gluttons for punishment, aren’t they?”

Andrew’s voice rang clear in her ear. He had made his way up to her shoulder, though he had positioned himself so that her collar would obstruct the cultists’ view of him.

Out of the corner of her mouth, she whispered back, “I was just gonna bury these guys in the sand, and maybe scare ‘em off, but I think they’re real loons! It doesn’t matter what I do, they’re gonna like it! Fuck! It’s as if God created these guys for the sole purpose of putting me in a jam!”

Her husband offered no recourse, although he appeared to be taking the matter more seriously. The moans of the people below were growing louder. There was no telling what they had in store next, and Caitlin was not eager to find out.

She caught herself continuing to stare behind. It was better this way, for she could avoid the burden of looking down on the cultists. Her eyes lingered upon her husband, taking in his now glistening skin, a result of his sunscreen sponsored expedition around her back. A cool, lakeside breeze caught his jet black hair, causing some strands to fly across his face. Unconsciously, her mouth had begun to water as she took in the sight.

As she pondered, a devious idea had crossed her mind.

“Let’s make some lemonade from these lemons,” she snickered.

Andrew was plucked from her back. He was dropped on the seat, directly below her face. Through gaps in the material, he could view the desperate cultists and hear their howls, although he wished he could not.

He let out a sharp exhale in surprise, for Caitlin’s face had drawn close. Hot air shot from her nostrils, blasting the top of his head. Her lips were an arm’s length away, and were slightly parted. As she breathed on him, his nose was filled with the scent of raw onion and saliva.

For a mere moment, her mouth hovered close. It then shot forward, trapping him in a juicy kiss.

A moan escaped her lips, as Caitlin pressed her luscious maw into Andrew. Not an inch of him could escape her ravenous affections. Saliva coated him, while occasionally, her tongue tasted the bitter aftertaste of stale sunscreen.

The cult had ceased their worship. All stood still, mouths agape. Some appeared on the verge of crying. Their muscled leader let out a few pathetic squeaks, before finally speaking out. “Goddess? What about our punishment?”

For longer than necessary, his question had gone ignored, as the giantess’s lips continued to smother her husband. Loud, juicy smacks rocked the heavens, while joyful mewls sent small vibrations into the sands below.

Cailtin managed to pull away for just a moment to snarl, “Clamp it, don’t you see I’m a bit busy?” Every syllable of her insult blasted Andrew with hot rank air, causing his bones to rattle. It certainly did his ears no favor, for they rang with the sonorous roar of her voice.

She then returned to her business, wetting the plastic bands that kept Andrew pinned against her active lips. His arms shoved against her advances, yet his strength proved utterly ineffective. This was not a deliberate action, it was a spark of the nerves reacting at being subject to power, unlimited power.

Consciousness began to fade from him. The air Andrew swallowed stank of pungent raw onion, and stale beef. His environment was easily twice the temperature of the beach, and there was no benefit of a fresh breeze.

Slowly, but surely, the cult began to retreat. One by one, they turned away, with heads hanging over, and feet, dragging through powdery ground. Among the last to leave was the leader still gazing upwards, as if doing so would draw his goddess’s attention back to him. When it became clear that would not be the case, he too, began to trudge away from the scene.

One remained, a rather thin, lanky man, who’s bare head had attained a luster gold grew green at the sight of. One of his bony hands had been plunged down his robes. It moved in a rhythmic motion, although what it had grasped remained hidden. A wide, drooling smile kept his mouth open.

When not leaking with drool, it leaked out praises, “Oh yes, the utter humiliation of being ignored while her affections are occupied by another man! This is the greatest high!”

Upon hearing this, Caitlin immediately stood up. Her movements caused shifts in the terrain below, although it was not enough to disrupt anyone’s balance. Andrew, soaked in a thin puddle of saliva, and on the verge of fainting, was yanked from the chair as well. The giantess had managed to use her other hand to keep her swimtop adhered to her torso.

She shook her head as she declared, “I’m retreating, this is getting real weird. I should have run away from these fucks from the minute they showed up.”

“Oh yes, discard me like a piece of trash!” begged the man below, his rhythmic motions increasing in frequency.

Before his task at hand reached its natural conclusion, a mighty hand steadied his wrist. “Brando!” shouted the cult leader, addressing the troubled man much like parent would a child, “Come on! We have other duties to fulfill, and other goddesses to worship!”

Brando did not acknowledge his superior. It was only after he peeled his head back, and let out a high-pitched whine, that he began limping towards the leading cultist. The built man scrunched his nose at the sight, but appeared content that at the very least, his words were eventually heeded.

By then, Caitlin had walked away a few paces. Of course, a few paces was all that would be required for her to outrun those who had just antagonized her. Andrew had been set on her collar. A few strands of sun-blasted hair tickled and teased him, but the broad muscles beneath provided adequate room to balance.

Slowly, his senses had begun to return. However, even the sun-blasted skin of his wife, along with a thin coating of sweat, delayed his recovery.

Caitlin redid the straps of her top, as she looked out to the lake. Unlike the smaller beach-goers, she would not be able to experience much of a swim, for the deepest part of the lake would only wet her calves.

Luckily for the newlyweds, the rest of the day was uneventful. Both had a chance to escape the grind of sleepless nights and tired days at an office, or sweltering under a blazing sun, caked in dirt and sawdust. Neither were as enthused at the prospect as they should have been, and while their chosen location was not the most glamorous, they made the most of it.

But, as the sun grew orange, and drew close to the horizon, it was time for the them to make it back to their residence. Accommodations for a giantess visitor consisted of a duplex of one-room shacks. These shacks were fitted with a twin-sized bed, at least, in a colossal sense. Wooden night stands flanked either side of the bed. A small closet, fitted with a paneled door, provided room for any packed luggage, although Caitlin often traveled light. The floor was of a cheap wood, as were the walls, providing the aesthetic of a cabin.

The entrance swung open, as Caitlin strode through. Andrew had still been perched on her shoulder, although he had taken the opportunity to rest his head against it. This action resulted in Caitlin becoming most distracted on the way back, forcing her to correct course, lest she allow her eyes to linger upon the minuscule man laying against her.

She eyed the bed, and took in the sight of the evening sunlight streaming through the window across. Upon her freckled cheeks, a small blush had begun to form.

Caitlin approached the edge of the bed. Gingerly, she pinched her husband most delicately from her shoulders, and set him on the pillow. Despite his relatively insignificant weight in comparison to the colossal cushion, Andrew still sunk into its surface, creating a small, folded divot where he sat.

Dark eyes consumed the sight of the towering titan before him. Caitlin’s entire physique glistened in the evening light, both from an expired coating of sun grease, mixed with her usual perspiration. Her smell had always been present, but even now, from where he stood, the intensity of estrogen-laced musk could almost be tasted. It was this reason, why Andrew was glad he was sitting, for he lacked the ability to stand her stench.

It was unknown if his wife could read his expression from her vantage on high. Despite the pungent odor assaulting his nose, Andrew rendered his expression a blank slate. Within his view, he could observe her blush, and felt his heart begin to flutter in anticipation.

A small chuckle escaped the giantess, “Boring day, I’ll say, aside from those wackos. At least they gave me a good excuse to smooch ya!”

Andrew’s lips forced themselves into a smile, as he inhaled another whiff of rank air, “Yeah, nice.”

His demeanor did not go unnoticed.

“Andy, you okay?” Caitlin inquired. She bent down, while narrowing her eyes, as if doing so would allow her to read her husband’s hidden thoughts. Her gray irises wove around in introspection, before she brought a hand to her mouth. Letting out a small exhale, it was not long before a cough exited her gut.

“Hoo boy, that’s nasty, even for me.” she commented, flashing Andrew a mischievous smile.

“You really like to pile it on with that double cheeseburger, don’t you?” he snarked back.

“Andy,” Caitlin scolded in jest, “How could you forget? It wasn’t a double cheeseburger, it was a double-bacon cheeseburger! Do you even know when my birthday is?”

A bout of jovial laughter was shared between the two. As the din of chuckles died down, Caitlin looked away, but for only a moment.

“I’ll hit the showers Andy,” she announced, “Then we’ll resume what I had planned for tonight.”

“Planned?” Andrew responded, yet Caitlin had already begun gathering her toiletries, as well as a change of clothing.

The shower was a most rudimentary structure. There were three tiled walls, and a curtain. Space for changing clothes was limited, and often times, an unfortunate giantess would have her modesty violated. For some others with a different mindset, however, this was to their benefit.

Caitlin’s clothes had taken on some moisture as the shower head spewed and sputtered. Her frothed hands scrubbed her skin most vigorously. Of particular interest were her armpits, in which she spent the most time lathering up with soap. The spontaneous waterflow of the shower provided much difficulty in completely washing off any excess suds. Yet, as Caitlin gave herself a sniff, she could tell that almost every accumulated odor for the day had been washed away.

One, however, remained.

From a vendor, she had purchased a pack of mints, immediately popping one in her mouth once the transaction was finalized. The moment she had returned to her room, the mint had been chewed up, filling her maw with its chilling essence.

Andrew’s eyes followed Caitlin as she entered. She had thrown on a white tank top that appeared to barely contain her athletic form. Knee-length khaki capri’s covered her legs, allowing her bulging calves to remain visible. Auburn hair appeared wet and matted. There was a scent of fresh lavender, something that rejuvenated his tired body.

As she made her way over to the bed, Andrew could not help but ask, “So, what did you have planned for tonight? They have a concert or something going on?”

A smirk crossed her face, “C’mon Andy, we’re on our honeymoon, at the beach, watching the evening sun. There’s only one way this day’s ending.”

Andrew’s porcelain skin had taken on a shade of red, although this was not due to the scorching sun. He was still clad in his swim trunks, although a strange anomaly had made itself visible waist-level, straining the waterproof material.

Upon witnessing his wife throw him a knowing smirk, Andrew’s hands immediately moved to conceal the lecherous gesture.

“I’d still like to know,” he pried, hearing his own heart beat like a drum in a heavy metal romp.

“You must be camping, because that’s a big tent your pitching,” Caitlin observed, her smile growing ever wider, “I think your little buddy there’s using his head more than you are.”

Her arms crossed, gripping the hem of her shirt. It was a mere five minutes the tank top had the pleasure of being worn by Caitlin, before being scrunched up her torso. Andrew became mesmerized by the formation of six square hills that lined his wife’s stomach.

The hem of Caitlin’s tank-top snagged on her chest, inadvertently lifting her mammoth mammaries. Once pulled free, the great hills that were contained within, wove and jiggled.

Andrew’s eyes widened, for he had come to a realization that underneath her tank-top, Caitlin had not bothered to wear any undergarments. Her bare bosoms, each larger than a suburban residence, stared back at him. The engorged glands at both of the mountains’ apex almost resembled a pair of erotic eyes themselves. Red in the face already, he discarded his concern in preserving his own modesty in favor of preserving her’s.

Wet locks waved in the air, as the shirt was pulled over her head. Caitlin threw the cotton article aside without much ceremony. It smacked the opposite wall, before falling in a messy heap.

Andrew would have scolded her to not leave such a mess on the floor, but for some reason, he found himself otherwise occupied.

Methodically, the titaness lumbered even closer to the bed. Her heart thumped with a thunderous cadence as she witnessed her husband’s absolutely smitten expression. He lay in the center of the mattress, having moved off of the pillow once he had felt well enough.

An eyebrow rose as she witnessed Andrew shielding his own eyes. “Whatcha doin’?” she inquired, with a hint of annoyance.

“Sorry!” Andrew apologized, “Force of habit.”

A raucous roar exited Caitlin, “Oh please! I’m your wife! Oogling these tits are your fucking right!” To make a statement, she swung her chest in an oscillating pattering, creating a most titillating sight.

Her approach allowed her thighs to tease the edge of the bed. Sinewy muscle tensed and relaxed, creating an image of living columns supporting a grand temple. And what a temple that lay before him, rising and falling, from the bulging, sculpts of her arms hanging by her side, to the heaving dunes of abs at her core, and of course, the great mounds of flesh, shaking over her chest with a mind of their own.

Caitlin let her body fall forward. Her titanic stature cast a grand shadow over her husband. Andrew instinctively backed away, witnessing this towering, shirtless, juggernaut plummet towards him. Her torso formed a great wall, becoming like the sky as it stretched over the bed. The atmosphere was a rich tanned hue. The clouds were voluptuous and toned, and drawing ever closer.

At the last minute, Caitlin’s arms were brought out. Her palms dug into the mattress, sinking down and forming craters of folded cotton. From the length of her wrists to her arms, they bulged as they supported her incomprehensible weight. Andrew lay between her two paws, as he felt the terrain below dip to accommodate the titan. Massive fingers splayed out, forming an incomplete entrapment which vaguely assumed the shape of a triangle.

Andrew could have easily vaulted over her digits to escape, or even sprint through the gaps out of her reach. But, under her imposing gaze, witnessing the vast body that hung above, there would be no escape.

“Dang Cait,” was all he could say, “Seriously …”

A wide grin was plastered on her face. He witnessed the tip of a red tongue emerge from between her lips, coating them in a fresh layer of moisture.

“That being said,” Caitlin purred, “You are mine, Andy. Which means I also have my fucking rights! Show me your stuff!”

Andrew widened his eyes, then shook his head, “Not much to show I’m afraid.”

Still, he complied. He untied the string holding the trunks at his waist. He discerned a low growl as the trunks made it past his knees. A cool breeze tickled him, and he felt the uncomfortable wave of flesh that lay between his legs.

“Andrew, you’re a terrible liar,” Caitlin accused, still keeping her mischievous smile.

“About what?” Andrew asked, although he dared not look her in the eye when he did.

Her elbows bent, lowering her torso. It was a gentle descent, yet still most imposing, for the sky was indeed falling. Andrew still looked away, not in modesty, but in uncertainty. Where would he look? Too many sights, from head to waist, were of interest.

Soon, all he could view was Caitlin’s encompassing expression. And still, she drew ever closer, expanding beyond his line of sight, until all he could discern was her mouth.

Upon impact, Andrew was pressed into the sheets. Again, in the same day, his wife had trapped him in an oppressive kiss that left not one inch of his body untouched by full, wet lips. However, this time, he was not subjected to rank, pungent breath, but instead an intense minty breeze.

Once he had taken in the heat of her exhale, Andrew let out an excited squeal of pure instinct. She did this all for me? Caitlin, you shouldn’t have.

With no other souls to observe her initiation of consummation, Caitlin allowed herself several moans as she continued to feel her husband’s diminutive struggles. Andrew’s motions were notably not as desperate as they were upon the beach. Indeed, from the circular motions of his arms, the swaying of his chest, and the steady rock of his hips, it appeared her husband was attempting to enhance the sensations his lanky physique could offer.

A growl exited Caitlin in response, and her tongue emerged, batting Andrew around, tussling his hair, soaking his chest, and circling his waist. Even from her vantage, she could hear, no, feel, her husband’s breath hasten.

The evening was young, however, and as a result, Caitlin pulled away. Andrew found himself briefly stuck against her monstrous maw, yet gravity proved sufficient to free him from her binding grip. He lay back, aware that the area around him was soaked in his wife’s spit.

The young man considered but for a moment a pause in the action so that he could wash off the offending spittle, before resuming. As he pondered, however, he recognized what a futile gesture that would entail, considering what he would be attempting later.

Caitlin pulled her body across the bed, so that her chest was directly above Andrew. Her neck bent down, taking in the sight of him splayed out as a result of her passion. She sent her chest in a subtle sway, allowing that which hung from it to swing. A discerning eye caught her husband’s head following the movement of her titanic bosoms.

Let’s give you a closer look, shall we?

The titan allowed her torso to fall against the mattress once more. Andrew widened his eyes, for the ceiling above, a mammary that would have been fit for him to sled down in the winter, descended on top of him. Of particular note, her darkened, wrinkled, areola, fell like a streaking meteor. Darkness swallowed him up, before the bounteous mound did.

There was a creak as the mattress took on the weight of Caitlin’s chest. An excited squeal exited her. Andrew’s body was quite enticing when it was mushed against her lips. Against such an erogenous area, however, her husband’s delicate touch sent her heart into overdrive. Earth shattering beats rumbled the bed, and Andrew through her taut, all-encompassing flesh.

Breath was short for him. Now more than ever, high-pressure assaulted him on all sides. Miraculously, the mattress was the softer of the two, giving way as Caitlin’s bosom advanced. Bedsheets tugged at his back, as Caitlin moved her torso, dragging her chest across the surface of the bed. Andrew, a mere insect that barely outclassed her engorged, crimson nub, had no choice but to go along with the ride.

She was not precise in her targeting, however, for the flesh of her nipple lay a few agonizing inches from her husband’s entrapped position. Her elbows still took the brunt of her weight, for she feared her marriage, ‘till death do them part, would end early if she allowed her full, unrestrained mass to fall upon her husband. Despite her restraint, her vocal adorations of passion left her mouth unimpeded.

Caitlin allowed herself respite, although she granted Andrew none. A thin slick of sweat had started to coat her body. Blood and adrenaline rushed through every vessel of her body. Even now, laying still, Andrew’s physique, from his thin arms, to his rich, yet messy hair, to his slim torso and sleek legs, not to mention, a throbbing member that left nothing of his own desire concealed, made a significant impression in her flesh. If she could, Caitlin would hold him there for eternity.

But, such a choice would deny her other desires. It was then, that she rose, utilizing her worked arms to lift her chassis off the bed. Within the impression her mammaries left, however, Andrew could not be located.

He could be felt. Against her bulging skin, he was stuck, this time more securely. The young man pulled his face away from her slick exterior, gazing up the glossy plain of flesh. From his vantage, his wife’s face was concealed. The only thing keeping him company was her gland, pent up with anticipation.

It did not take long for Caitlin to realize where her husband had gone. A mischievous smile took form on her face. With far more measured movements, she swung her legs over the top of the mattress. Her back, meanwhile settled down upon the bed. There was no bedframe, just a finished wooden wall that lay beyond the pillow. The giantess’s head came to rest against it.

A bit dazed from the shifting of his wife’s body, Andrew nevertheless retained a strong grip. Had he been less composed, his mouth would have remained hung open. No matter how many times he had witnessed it, the movement of Caitlin’s titanic joints appeared to be motivated by magnificent miracles. From the tilting of her abdomen, and the sweeping of her legs, Andrew was beginning to understand the sentiment of the cultists they had met earlier that day.

Once the leviathan settled down, Andrew raced up her bosom to its apex. There sat before him the evasive mammary gland, untouched by hands other than Caitlin’s own.

Dang, wait, let’s reassess here. I’m letting my little buddy down there do all the thinking for me.

Andrew paused, allowing the heat of his mind to pass. He granted himself a simple smile, for the scenery before him was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Behind the form of her nipple, lay Caitlin’s face; gray eyes memorizing each one of his moments. It was as if he was peering at Mount Everest from the perch of a lesser mountain.

Her orbs did narrow as she saw him hesitate.

“C’mon Andy, these tits are yours!”

Despite her encouragement, he remained still.

Andrew noticed the flesh of Caitlin’s breast take on a darker hue. Dark eyes widened upon realizing this was the result of it being cast in shadow.

Before he could look to observe what caused the shadow, an unrelenting force smashed him into her breast. Andrew’s face was molested by firm, wrinkled skin, while his body was compelled to sink into tough yet blubbery flesh.

Caitlin’s hand groped her bosom, allowing the pressure from her fingers to dip and dimple her skin. Andrew’s struggles were frantic and spirited, which only encouraged her actions. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her breath became quite audible.

“Oh Andy!”

Her sensitive nubs were the most frequently serviced of her great tracts of land. A feminine squeal would exit her mouth every time an arm, leg, or third leg would acquaint itself with the engorged gland.

Sweat upon her exterior was now becoming something that Andrew could not simply ignore. As his head was kneaded directly into tender flesh, he could both taste and smell the estrogen-laden liquid. Under such great force, with little air, he began to feel woozy once more.

Caitlin must have taken notice, for her hand relented. Andrew was left on the inner slope of her mammary, and thus, he tumbled down, landing upon a firm sternum. As he came to, he took in the grand canyon he found himself in, walled off by udders that appeared to stretch into infinity. To his front, an exasperated, blushing face stared right back at him. Hot, yet pleasant breath assailed him, giving his stomach and sense of balance a reprieve.

“Sorry,” she murmured, “I was really looking forward to this. I didn’t know you would feel this good.”

Andrew wondered if his heart beat’s magnitude could actually exceed that of Caitlin’s, for even though the thunderous organ drummed forcefully under his feet, guarded by thick layers of muscle and bone, his own blood muscle was working much like an overclocked computing processor.

“Y-you don’t have to exaggerate Cait,” Andrew hastily replied, averting his eyes. Everywhere he could look, however, was her in a sense, and thus there would be no relief. Caitlin was his world in the truest sense of the phrase.

“If anything, I’m sellin’ you short.” A snigger escaped her, “You know, despite...”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Andrew responded, allowing a humored smile. He turned his gaze southward, down the dunes of abdominals, to the concealed territory that would mark his journey’s end.

It was no mystery to Caitlin where Andrew’s attention had been drawn to. A single finger descended down her cleavage, and poked the infinitesimal mite of a man who stood over her conquered heart. He stumbled from her gesture, despite her efforts at being gentle.

Still, she cooed, “Go on ahead Andy. Let’s start building this family.”

No words were returned to her. She witnessed his bare form begin to take several careful steps, making his way towards the band of her capris. Biting her lips, Caitlin’s hands raced past him, teasing her waistline. Her fingers found the button securing the articles to her, and with desperate bravado, snapped it open. The titaness's pants were then pulled past her generous thighs.

A great forest of dark, curly hairs revealed themselves. Breath failed Andrew for but a second, as he remained transfixed, no longer paying attention to his wistful gait. Of such volume and thickness were the pubes, he could not discern what lay beyond. Of course, despite this, Andrew could venture a most educated guess.

From the shadow of her breasts, he emerged. Caitlin’s stomach proved easier terrain to traverse, for it was of a firmer constitution. Grand dunes of muscle flanked him, as he made his way within the defined valley the muscles provided. They were flat landscapes, their tops not even making it past Andrew’s waist. But, as with everything else Caitlin possessed, they were vast, worthy of being called plateaus.

His nose picked up a rather peculiar scent. It was not that of Caitlin’s own perspiration, but the smell was definitely of her. The temperature had noticeably risen, even though the sun continued to descend, and he was in open air. Each step he took, however, intensified the sensation. The musky odor would not just invade his nostrils, but also his mouth and his eyes. Andrew found himself blinking away tears as he made his way.

Pungent, passionate stench eventually invaded his brain, and balance became precarious. As the forest drew near, Andrew found himself stumbling off course, before correcting himself. Even at her worst, he never imagined a more intense sensation. So heavy, the odor was, the air appeared determine to hinder him, for it was evocative of trying to walk through water.

“Hey Andy, you’re okay right?” he heard his wife call from afar, “I’m gonna be real gentle with you. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I’m fine,” Andrew heaved, “I’m fine…”

At the border of her forest, her musk grew more powerful than ever. An erotic aroma mixed with a bouquet of perspiration, creating a powerful pincer of putrid perfume that Andrew felt would stain all of his being for eternity. It was hard enough to ford through the great tangled prairie grass that guarded her privates, but his senses were on overdrive. His vision blurred, and the hairs appeared more numerous than ever, for he was seeing double.

Andrew let out a hack that strained his throat as he soldiered on. As unpleasant as this was, he was a stubborn man. His gaze was hard, yet sullen, full of dutiful determination. If he had to lie back and think of England, he would do so to fulfill this sacrament he had undertaken.

Alas, the spirit may have been unyielding, but it was limited by the weakness of flesh.

Within his own gut, he erupted. A spew of the day’s meal shot out from his mouth, coating some of the nearby strands. Just when he thought he was done, another bout of barf burned his throat, some landing on his chest. The World tilted and teetered, before going dark.

“Andrew!”

A horrified exhale exited Caitlin, witnessing her husband’s slight form collapse within her pubis. Even from her vantage, she could tell what he had done. The haze of passion immediately subsided, and her great hand was brought forth.

Her fingers prodded through her own forest, bringing Andrew’s body out from it. He was hauntingly still, out cold. The titan’s massive mind raced by the millions, daring not to settle upon the frighting implication.

I’m so disgusting I caused Andrew to puke.

She placed his body upon her pillow. His skin had taken an even paler shade, appearing to cancel out the slight tan he picked up from the beach. A rough, yet careful finger, wicked away some of the chunky regurgitated matter that had coated his torso.

Of all the girls that could have satisfied him, I’m the one he has to put up with.

Caitlin fought away tears that welled up within. But, she could not help but let a few fall as she contemplated the future, a future where her husband dared not even touch her.

…

Awareness returned to him. The sensation of the soft pillow against his back allowed him easy breathing.

Above him, loomed the troubled face of his wife. Immediately, Andrew turned away, hiding his face. A sickening feeling emerged from within, although it was not due to an overwhelming odor.

“Y-you okay?” she queried, feeling her heart freeze as he curled up.

“I – I’m sorry,” Andrew returned somberly, not daring to look the woman he disappointed in the eye.

Caitlin let out a sigh. Some of her hair had hung over her eyes, thus she brushed the offending bangs away. Why is he apologizing? Why is he acting embarrassed? I’m the disgusting pig here!

Andrew's troubled demeanor gradually began to relent. His own mind, upon grasping consciousness, had begun working furiously as a result of the conundrum he had encountered. In that moment, a breakthrough sparked. The energy of innovation rejuvenated his spirits.

“I won’t let you down next time, I promise.”

Andrew had sat up. A determined glint was in his eye. Something had changed. Even in her enormity compared to him, Caitlin could almost observe that his brain had begun working on something.

Still, she shook her head, “It isn’t your fault Andy. If I’d just clean up a bit, you wouldn’t find me so repulsive.”

“Repulsive?” Andrew shouted back, most aghast, “That’s ridiculous! I fainted because I couldn’t take it! But this shouldn’t be a problem. I’m not ruining our consummation just because I can’t handle some odor!”

Caitlin rebuked him, “But it isn’t your-”

“- This is a problem, and it’s solvable.” Andrew interjected. A subtle elation overcame his face.

“You ever visited one of those farm fairs?”

Caitlin furrowed her brow, “I kinda grew up on a farm.”

A finger was placed under his chin, “Huh, well, I grew up in the city. But going to one of those fairs, I nearly threw up as a kid. My parents told me to tough it out. And guess what, by the end of the day, I got used to it.”

His wife allowed herself a small, somber giggle, “Are you saying I smell as bad as cow manure?”

“If you insist,” Andrew jabbed, raising an eyebrow as if fascinated by something, “But you showered, and I still fainted. All we need to do, is a little priming.”

A great hand began to squeeze the pillow he sat on, “What do you mean?”

“If I spend a couple of days consistently smelling up the worst you can give me, I’ll be able to handle anything you throw at me.”

“Are you crazy? You want to throw up again Andy?” she practically shouted. The bed shook from the mere force of her voice and the contractions of a diaphragm fit for a blue whale.

“You don’t need to do this for me. You don’t need to do this to yourself! I hit the jackpot when I married you, so I’ll be the one making good on this and cle-”

Andrew let out a guffaw. It transformed into a knee slapping laugh that sent him lying down on the pillow. His legs kicked out, powered by pure amusement.

Caitlin should have felt insulted. Yet, for some reason, upon witnessing her loved one in so much high spirits after such an experience, she could not help but smile.

“Something funny about this?” she inquired, folding her muscled arms, attempting to look peeved.

“Yeah,” Andrew smirked, “You stole my line you big stinky ogre.”