More Disclaimer: This work is my own. The characters are my own. Do not repost this story beyond the limits of the Fair Use standards of Copyright Law (quotes, examples, ‘you gotta read this’ excerpts, the usual). the author is not making any kind of profit from this fanfic.
I tend to work with size-themed fiction, which includes overwhelming control issues and outrageous differences in scale. Such disparate sizes between partners is not for everyone, so be warned.
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Rachel was starting to regret moving to the city. Part of it was probably the season. Christmas was for families but she had none close by.
Her roommate, Carolyn, was nice enough, sure. But the girl worked three jobs to save money for college so it was more like an apartment ghost that ponied up rent every so often.
Her boyfriend was present more often, but right now he mostly ranted about what a ripoff Christmas was. Pagan holiday, subverted imagery, Coca Cola Santa Claus, commercialism and man's inhumanity...Dell had seven rants that rotated through every date or time spent together.
And the city, while magical in postcards or on local network station breaks...was more grey than twinkling. More slush than snow. More boring than bright.
She'd never have imagined crashing an office Christmas party, but she was starting to get desperate. A bit more depression and moving back home would start to sound good. And if that wasn't a depressing thought nothing was.
Carolyn had a ticket to the big company party of her day job but it was being held while she worked for a caterer at another big to do. She offered the ticket as the girls passed in the hallway.
"Free food, open bar, try not to seduce anyone that I'm senior to," she said and then she was gone. Rachel looked and looked at the ticket. Then she stalked purposefully towards her closet.
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The array of people was almost as daunting as the city itself. She couldn't imagine how many people Sparkles and May employed just to run the party, much less how many people actually belonged there.
She sucked on a cracker and moved through the crowd as if searching for someone. The cracker was a prop. If anyone asked a question about the company, she chewed on it. The noise indicated her mouth was full and gave her a moment to think of a reply.
Most people weren't in the mood to wait. She considered it a win when the strangers moved on without her even speaking.
She'd been there an hour when she saw the Figurehead. It was an image that burst into her brain. A very imposing figure of a mature black woman coursed across the floor. People edged or were moved out of her way.
Rachel thought of sailing ships, and the large figures carved out for the prow. The Figurehead strode ahead on straight lines, tacking only for actual walls and large bits of furniture.
The dress was a white fortress, bands of material woven into something like armor, wrapped around her body and secured in place, possibly with rivets. Maybe something from the age of steam. Did steamboats have figureheads?
She was musing on the image of this woman on a Mark Twain riverboat when something snapped her back to reality.
Cleavage. The Figurehead was standing in front of Rachel, who found herself staring between the woman's breasts. They heaved gently under steady respiration. She snatched her gaze upwards. The woman was looming overhead and smiling patiently.
Rachel glanced to the side. Was she in the way? But she was leaning on the wall. There was no way through her. The woman had to have intended to come straight up to Rachel.
She had to say something. But her mouth was full. She swallowed, coughing as the entire cracker went sideways down her throat.
A hand the size of a plate slapped her back. "Are you okay, miss?"
"Yes, um, yes, I just..."
"I'm used to men forgetting to breathe around The Twins, but not women." Rachel looked up to see laughter in bright, deep eyes. "Even those that are interested usually have a pair of their own. They get greedy but not incoherent."
"Um...." Rachel's mind was a complete blank. Should she compliment her? Or run?
That great big hand caressed a shoulder, then turned to hold her by the chin. Her head was twisted up to the side so the woman could admire her profile.
Or her jugular, she thought. Too many vampire movies...
"Would you like to come home with me, little dancer?"
"Dancer?" Rachel asked.
"I saw you walk. You have poise, balance, a sense of your presence. Do you dance professionally?"
Did the company hire professional dancers? Was she outed already? The thumb and forefinger on her jaw brought her back to a face-to-face gaze. She was taking too long to answer.
"I'd...like to," she said, realizing it was true.
"Like to dance? Or like to come home with me?" There was a smile but for some reason Rachel was reminded of her cat more than anything else.
"I'd like to..." God, what was she saying? She wasn't into... or was she? This was all going to quickly, for all that it seemed to be in slow motion.
The hand lowered, resting on her shoulder, turning her body, then gathering her into a titanic underarm. "I'm Mallah," she heard. "I think I'm going to like getting to know you."
The company had hired a motel's convention center for the party and made several rooms available. Mallah sailed to the elevators with Rachel tied alongside.
The crowd parted before them. Before her, Rachel realized. She got a few glances and appraising looks as they passed.
She was still looking at the people looking at her when the elevator doors closed. She tried to glance at the button to see what floor they were going to, but her head was turned again.
Mallah had scooped one proud breast out of confinement. A nipple the size of a toasting marshmallow was in profile as Rachel was drawn to it.
"You have thirty seconds," Mallah said.
"Yes," Rachel whispered. She leaned down, but not very far, to take it into her mouth.
She licked and sucked, nursing on Mallah. She couldn't believe how hot it was getting her. She'd never imagined doing anything like this.
When she snuck Dad's Playboys out of his workroom stash, she was looking at the dresses, the hairdos, the opulent settings. Not the boobs.
Two strong fingers pinched slowly at her ass, lifting her up onto her toes even as she bent down to the breast.
Then there was that gentle lift of a slowing elevator. She released the nipple just as Mallah pushed her gently away.
The woman's other hand was tugging at her dress and covering the breast. Rachel felt a bit of regret blossom as she lost sight of the dark black areola.
She also felt a spike of thrill. She'd tried something new. It may or may not have been her choice... But Mallah was definitely something that wouldn't have been found in Lewiston.
She swallowed and turned as the doors opened. The hotel hallway was very short up here. There were only three doors. Suites. Well. At least Carolyn need not fear that Rachel had seduced a receptionist in her place.
Hands on her hips steered her to the second room. The door was slightly ajar, waiting, inviting. She pushed it open and led Mallah inside.
She had a brief glimpse of the room, the first hotel room she'd ever been in where the bed wasn't visible. There was a dining table with a small buffet set up, two sofas facing each other in a conversation pit, and a fireplace.
Then she was tugged back to the door. Mallah grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her bodily into a kiss.
Long, deep and slow, they touched tongues and gently explored each other. It was sweet how hesitant Mallah's mouth was, compared to the power in her hands.
Rachel wrapped arms around her neck and lifted some weight off that grip. Mallah moaned.
There was a cough somewhere behind her. Mallah finished the kiss and lowered her. Rachel turned. A man with oriental features leaned in a doorway, watching the women. He had a gentle smile on his face but his eyes were alight with desire. He was a small man, almost exactly halfway between Rachel's petite height an Mallah's lofty elevation
"Rachel, this is my husband, Wen."
"Pleased to meet you, Wen," Rachel said. She completely missed the fact that she was supposed to be Carolyn at the party. And that she'd never introduced herself by either name.
Wen simply nodded back. Then, rather than reverse the introductions, Mallah said, "Wen, I brought you a present."
Rachel was briefly absorbed by the phrasing of the introduction. Obviously, the woman meant that she'd done the heavy lifting or the selection, to get her man a lover. Or perhaps the gift was that she was allowing her man a chance at a fling, with permission, maybe even with participation.
But just for a second, Rachel's mind blossomed with other possibilities. Like the idea that she could be owned, claimed, passed around from person to person. Unwrapped and played with, then regifted.
She imagined the party as a petting zoo, Mallah paying for a ticket then wandering around to select the little woman who'd fill it, like filling a hunting tag.
Or maybe she could be under the tree? Hell, she could probably fit into Mallah's stockings. Hanging before the fireplace, placed there by Santa, waiting for the family to wake up and run out to see what there was, new, to play with.
"A gift, huh?" Wen said. "That has possibilities." He pushed off the doorway and stepped over.
Mallah pushed gently at a shoulder blade. Rachel obediently spun to give Wen the full view. The strap of her dress fell of her shoulder as she turned. She automatically replaced it and continued until she faced Wen once more.
"Hmmm," he said with an approving nod. "I may just put a leash on this one."
Rachel laughed, happy to see that she wasn't the only one having odd thoughts about the strange situation. Strange to her, anyway. The other two smiled and shared a look.
She felt connected to the couple, on the inside of a least one joke. One that Dell probably wouldn't have gotten.
There was a small bump sound as Mallah kicked off her shoes and left them near the door. Rachel copied her. Even the shoes thought that the foyer would be more comfortable. They slid off her feet as if greased.
She moved them with her toes to line them beside Mallah's elegant flats. There was a touch and she found Wen taking her hand. He nodded towards a sofa. When they moved there, Mallah stepped around them to go to the buffet.
"Sit down, put up your feet, relax," Wen invited her. There were throw pillows on the coffee table. Rachel obeyed his instructions, thinking how scandalized her mother would be. Feet on pillows? Feet on a table?
Then again, she was being seduced by a married couple. Tables would be below Mom's radar.
It was terribly comfortable position. Wen sat at the other end of the sofa, arm across the back, looking at her.
"So, dear, what do you do?"
She'd expected that question at a business function and had a ready answer. "I, uh, don't really feel like talking about work," she said. He took it at face value and nodded. She almost felt guilty for the deception.
Mallah walked behind the sofa and handed a plate to her husband. It had a selection of fruit slices on it. Rachel licked her lips. Mallah laughed as she took a seat on the far sofa.
"You're hungry?" Wen asked. He lifted a slice of pineapple. "Would you like a piece?" She nodded. He leaned over to feed it to her.
The fruit was cool and juicy. Tart flavor burst on her tongue and ran over her cheeks. It was strong, more powerful in flavor than she remembered. She hummed happily.
Wen scooted a bit closer and offered her a slice of strawberry dipped in chocolate. She opened her mouth and let him place it.
Then a grape followed. It was huge. "The rich are different from us," she said softly. "They get gigantic fruit." The couple laughed.
Wen selected a slice of melon. As she was taking bites, her feet fell from the table. The pillow slid across the edge and dropped her.
"Whoopise!" she said.
Wen leaned back. She thought she'd offended him somehow, but he was smiling. "I think that's enough of me feeding you," he said. "After all, you're my pet."
"Gift," Mallah corrected. He shrugged.
"Anyway, if you want more, come get it."
Rachel smiled and moved to comply with his request. She was going to scoot along the cushion, but when she tried to push with her feet, they swished through the air, never touching carpet.
She threw out a hand to steady herself and looked up with alarm. It was like she was drunk or something! But Wen was dangling a slice of banana.
Rachel wanted that banana slice. She started to crawl towards him. Her skirt caught under her knees and slid down to her waist.
She blushed and pulled it back up. Nothing that they probably weren't going to see soon enough, but she didn't want to seem a slut.
With one hand holding her neckline she crawled carefully towards Wen and the fruit.
The rich have different furniture, too, she thought. Wen had struck her as a small man, but somehow the sofa gave him a roomy lap.
She sat there and leaned against the armrest. He fed her the slice of banana bite by bite. Rachel purred and squirmed a little bit against him.
He lifted a huge ripe red strawberry and held it over her face. "Now, little gift, what would you to for me? For this fruit?"
She clenched and relaxed her butt cheeks in reply. The muscles of her ass stroked his lap. Something beneath her started to throb.
"Nice," he said. He lowered the fruit long enough for her to take one bite.
"What's nice?" Mallah asked. Rachel was surprised to find that her hostess was sitting on the sofa, in the spot she'd left. Leaning against the far armrest, playing with a pair of panties.
They didn't look her style, but Rachel lost interest as Wen stroked her shoulder. "She's squirming for me, for my little missile."
"Little?" Rachel laughed. "That thing's poking at both of my thighs!"
The couple laughed. "I think we'll stop here for a while," Wen said. Rachel was about to protest when she realized he wasn't talking to her.
His wife nodded and sat back. Wen's hands stroked his gift and peeled her shoulders clean. The straps and part of the dress sank easily down to Rachel's waist.
"Very pretty," he said, stroking her breasts. She squirmed happily. He placed the remainder of the strawberry in his mouth, sticking out between his lips. "Fom fake a vite," he said.
She obediently sat up and leaned over. She worried the fruit with her teeth but wasn't trying to bite it. She bruised it, softened it, sucked the mush down.
He squeezed with his lips and juice ran down her cheeks, her chin, dropping to her bared breasts. Hands smeared it over her skin. She figured he'd probably want to lick that clean later on.
The fruit wasn't at quite the best angle, so she twisted around. She ended up straddling his lap, lifting herself up to meet his mouth.
Wen finally swallowed what was left of the fruit. "Aw," Rachel said, disappointed.
"Not to worry," Mallah said. Another strawberry was placed in his mouth and they nibbled at each other some more, juicing Rachel liberally.
"Are you hungry, little nibbler?" Wen asked. She nodded, licking at his cheeks for bits of fruit. "What shall we do about that?"
She ground her pussy against him as an answer. He laughed and moved her back a bit on his thighs. Then he undid his belt. She helped him with the pants. The zipper wasn't fashionably small, not like some she'd fumbled with. A big, handy piece of metal, she tugged it playfully.
He rose, before and below her. Firm and straight, it poked up at her belly. She giggled and moved back. Mallah's hand moved briefly into her sight and poured some chocolate from the fountain into her husband's lap. Wen sighed.
"Isn't that hot?" she asked, breaking briefly out of the moment.
"Deliciously," Wen hissed.
"Let her be the judge of that," Mallah said. She gestured and Rachel dipped her head.
"Well, let's see." She grabbed and kissed even as the chocolate sauce cooled and hardened. "This'll be different."
Rachel lipped and nibbled, alternating a taste of chocolate with a taste of Wen. Salt and sweet started her mouth salivating. She tongued him to spread it around.
She wriggled a bit to get a better angle. She realized her ass was sticking up at Mallah when the other woman started stroking her.
A strong, powerful thumb worked gently between her thighs, rising up to tickle her pubic bone. She wriggled, trying to get that touch in a better position. Mallah knew that, though, and avoided anything more erotic with professional skill.
Wen moaned and Rachel realized she'd been paying attention to her lap, rather than his. She widened her tongue and tried to make it up to him.
Fingertips ran through her hair, smoothing it over her skull. Gentle pressure slowed her rhythm. She cooperated, moving her head at his direction, but she doubled the speed of her licking.
The chocolate was almost entirely gone, now. But Wen's sauce was about to flow. Going and coming, she thought with an inner smile.
For some reason she feared letting his come stain pants or furniture. As his testicles tightened under her fingers, she rose until only her lips touched him, just covering the tip of his cock.
The come exploded out, nearly choking her. She sucked and swallowed, stroking her fingers from the edge of her lips down to the base.
Some was smeared, the rest filled her and warmed her. Then she remembered the chocolate sauce and the fruit juices. If this man's pants were a worry it was too late now.
Still, he seemed appreciative of her efforts. When the last drop was sucked up and out, he lifted her to his face and kissed her. It was soft and gentle, like... Well, like nothing Dell had ever done, that was certain.
Then Wen lifted her a bit higher over his lap. She wasn't surprised as he licked at her breasts, sucking up the juice, smearing the stains over her petite boobs.
Mallah had scooted closer. No, she stood, a foot between Wen's feet and her arms slithering over Rachel's shoulders. Her massive hands collected and cupped breasts, pointing the nipples at Wen's nose.
Rachel squirmed and gasped as the man sucked almost directly at her soul. Where his mouth wasn't, a thumb twirled his spit around a lonely, exposed nipple, cooling as the saliva dried.
Then everyone let go. Rachel sat up straight and looked up at Wen's face. He had a reassuring smile. But why reassure her about the stop, why not just-
Spade-sized hands speared under her arms and lifted her armpits. Mallah took Rachel up into the air. She started to kick automatically, but hands grabbed her, seized her, calmed her.
Wen guided her feet over his shoulder and smiled. She relaxed and smiled back. And leaned back. Her head was pillowed in hot, soft cleavage. She realized Mallah had exposed The Twins to the air. She turned but couldn't quite reach a nipple with her mouth.
That would require twisting, and Wen wouldn't have allowed it.
She reached up with her arms and stroked Mallah's forehead. To her surprise the forehead kissed her fingers. She could only reach up to Mallah's cheek.
"Wish there was a mirror," she murmured. "This must be some crazy angle..."
The couple giggled at her comment. She giggled some more. That developed into a small laugh, then they laughed, and she laughed louder and then Wen leaned down and laughingly slid his tongue in her up to her spine and she stopped laughing.
The gasp sucked in air so fast her ears popped. She'd never had a lover penetrate so deeply with a tongue. Admittedly, her trysts back in Idaho, oral sex was hard to come by.
And Dell only licked her pussy as a promissory note. Wen filled her, probed, wiggled the end of his tongue in places she'd never suspected... were... capable...
She pushed herself against him, lifting with her legs, pushing down on his shoulders. She simultaneously tried to spread his legs to give him more access and to tighten her grip, clamping on his face so he'd never escape.
Mallah's face leaned over hers with a knowing smile. "He does know what he's doing, doesn't he?"
"Nmrgh!" Rachel replied.
Mallah changed her grip, moving one hand at a time to cup the tiny breasts once more.
Rachel briefly wondered what was supporting her body. If Mallah was holding her up, she'd have tipped or twisted when she let go with one side.
But then Wen closed his lips around her pussy and started to suck at her sex. "Szhrr!" she said encouragingly. His tongue was still trying to find her rib cage, sliding out a tiny bit, then thrusting back to where it was and searing a line of heat inside her.
Her hands dropped to cover Mallah's... But she could only grab two fingers at a time. That was enough, though. She twisted the firm, hot skin under her grip and raised herself another inch or two against Wen's face.
He grinned (she felt it against her skin), then grabbed her knees and spread her wide. So wide it hurt, but she wouldn't complain, couldn't complain. He might stop.
"Please," she gasped.
"My, my, my," Mallah's voice rumbled, shaking Rachel's rib cage. "She still has the power of speech. You're losing your touch."
"Nmm hmm," Wen moaned.
"No," Rachel whimpered. "He has.... hasn't. Not... No."
Fingers wrapped around her hips and squeezed. She flew. No, she floated.... No, she was supported. Loving hands at hips and breasts, lips at her pussy and breasts beneath her had.
Pinned in place, three feet up in the air, they finally squeezed and twisted and licked and brought her off. She screamed, her head flicking back and forth, hands clutching Mallah's, heels pounding Wen's shoulder blades.
Then she was dropped. Slowly and gently lowered to Wen's lap, then arranged like a limp, sweaty rag doll over his belly and chest.
She dropped her head to his sternum and just breathed. He said something to his wife, something Chinese. Or Japanese, maybe. Hell, she thought, it could be Klingon, she didn't know or care.
But his tone was relaxed. Mallah's reply may have been in the same language and she spoke playfully.
Then something pushed at her ass, lifting her a bit higher on the torso beneath her. She realized Wen was hard again and Mallah was taking care of that.
The slurping came at a beat that matched Wen's heart. Hairs lightly tickled her ass while the ribs throbbed in time. She purred and melted in place.
Wen came and Mallah left. Rachel heard footsteps whispering across the carpet then a door opening and shutting. She remained in the man's lap for a while. His fingertips stroked her from shoulder, down spine and ass and around to the back of her thigh, then back up again.
They lay like that for a long, lovely while.
