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“Going down!”
Simple as that. My roommate has this annoying little thing she does. She always plays coy when I ask how she does it, so I’ve stopped asking how. The simple fact of the matter is she can shrink people (and grow them back to normal, but she’s a lot less impulsive about that). The annoying part is she doesn’t bother to ask. I was supposed to go to book club tonight, and I sure as hell can’t use this as excuse for a no-show and expect to be taken seriously.
So yeah. Simple. Hand on my head, two taps and a wink, and then just piles and piles of the nice clothes I chose for a social night out. The dress that fits just right, suddenly impossible to wear. All for a laugh. Ha ha. Am I being too flippant about this? Sue me, it happens at least once a week. The novelty has more than worn off by now, and I hate when plans change so suddenly.
“Awh, that’s such a cute look on you!” she teases.
“Do you have to?” I shout back as I poke my head out, to no avail. I know at this point, she’s going to do what she’s set her mind to, but maybe if she feels bad about it she’ll cut things short.
“Come on, like you’d let this power go to waste if you had it.”
Touché.
“Now, I know you had a thingie tonight, and I proooomise I’ll make it up to you, but like…”
Oh no, she’s getting bashful. Shifting her weight back and forth, twirling the string of the pajama pants she’s been wearing all day. My chances of a regular night out sink to zero percent. She tugs at the string, undoing the knot, and letting loose a fuzzy purple landslide. She’s wearing stretched out pink striped panties, her worn out favorite pair, and is obviously at full mast beneath them. It’s impressive, frankly. She’s confided that not much gets her there anymore. This she told me after the first time she did this.
The second layer comes down, resting at her ankles like an elevator with its doors held open. She’s looking down at me, sticking out her tongue and blushing way too innocently. She really, really wants this.
It’s not like I hate it. If I really made a fuss, she’d plunk me on a shelf and handle things on her own. Shrinking me at all seems to be more important to her than whatever she decides to do with me after, though it takes about four times as long without my help. She does mean it, too, the bit about making it up to me. Last time she spent extra on all my favorite pizza toppings. She never said it was related, but I always get a gesture like that between these things. I just wish she had a better sense of timing.
But she is, regrettably, stupid fucking hot. I’d rather have some front-row fun than pout and listen to her grunting for the next few hours. So I clamber out of my clothes and into hers, but I cross my arms while I do it. She hooks her thumbs so they catch both layers, and starts to raise them in unison. It knocks me down, of course. You can’t stand up in a moving hammock. I land sideways in a spot that’s already slightly damp and sticky. I wonder how long she restrained herself before doing this. It’s weirdly sweet (not the smell of her pre-cum, though that too). It’s sweet thinking of her trying really hard to keep it to herself. Not quite considerate, but only because she was so desperate for me. I wouldn’t tell her this, for risk of it going to her head, but I’m kind of flattered that she’s still like this towards me.
Shadows fall across her unshaved legs as I ascend the world’s softest elevator. This is the part where I choose my final stop. The back, trapped between her cheeks? They’ve filled out impressively since she started her injections, cellulite dimples pocked into each of them. Theres some really adorable freckles speckled deeper between them, which I won’t be able to see, but for some reason they add some sway into its favor. Towards the front, her sack swings back and forth with the sway of her hips. You wouldn’t think such a place could be so heavenly plush, but I know it is, and mind-meltingly warm too. It’s a bumpier ride, that way, where I run an almost guaranteed risk of ending up plastered to her cock just from the way she humps her pillow. Once I somehow got trapped under her foreskin, which I swear she did on purpose but she vehemently denies.
“Oh shoot—” She stops the ride before I’ve made my mind up, distracted by a buzz from her phone. I feel like I’m stuck at the top of a ferris wheel, suddenly aware of and uncomfortable with my distance from the ground. I ask what’s wrong, but I’m not sure she’s listening.
“Yeahhhh, okay, change of plans. Forgot I agreed to a movie night call with the girls tonight.”
“So, you’ll let me out?”
“Yeah, I guess,” but she cuts herself off. She stands ominously still for a few seconds. “Well. We’re already this far…”
My heart sinks. I shout her name, I punch at her thigh, but the pit through the leg-hole of her underwear is dizzyingly dark, so I don’t throw a second.
“It might be kinda nice just… leaving you there. Yeah. Yeah, you don’t mind, do you?”
And we’re moving again, and my decision has a new variable: hours wedged in the crushingly hefty cushioning of her ass, or hours of casual rubbing between surreptitious mutes of her microphone. I’m locked by paralysis, and the light is going as she pulls both waistbands up past her hips. Unfortunately, no decision is still a decision. I have to make a break for it, but it’s already too late. I gasp and get a mouthful of the thin strip of skin along her perineum, trapped in the best and worst of both worlds, the limbo of her crotch.
And she’s already moving, giggling to herself, I feel the shifting and tugging of each step all around me, and the awful, final rush of motion as she slams down into her chair, winding me as she seals me to her taint for the remainder of her night. Above, I can just about make out the shift in her tone, from the playful voice she uses on me to the casual one she puts on with friends.
“Sorry! I totally got caught in the middle of something and lost track of time! Uh huh? Yeah. Oh yeah, totally. Wait that’s such a good idea! Its been like a week or two since I last got high. Yeah, gimme just a sec, I’ll go grab my gummies!”
If I’m really lucky, I’ll be out in time to see the sunrise. More likely, she’s gonna forget about me here until about this time tomorrow. I console myself with the knowledge that she’s going to have to outdo herself with her next pity-gift. But now, the pheromone-rich air is getting to me, and shows no signs of letting up soon. Who knows how long I’ll be here? May as well make the most of it.