Close to the Heart Pt. 04

Disclaimer: All persons engaging in sex are over the age of eighteen. This story contains a very voluptuous older woman with self-esteem issues doing fetish sex things with a sexy young six-inch tall man. The acts include: Tiny man in giantess's mouth, tiny man in giantess's cleavage, tiny man in giantess's vagina, tiny man in giantess's anus, tiny man being covered in giantess's sweat, tiny man being pissed on by a drunk giantess, tiny man fucking a giant nipple, nearly-fatal lady-orgasms, and fun with a 3D printer.

If any of that isn't your thing, don't read it. You've been informed.

******

Leanne stomped into their efficiency apartment, a thunderous look on her face and a six-pack of wine coolers hanging from each hand.

She dropped heavily into her recliner, and twisted off the top of her first drink, taking a huge gulp. Her purse was flung away, and the remaining eleven drinks were set on the floor near the sides of her chair for easy access.

Derek spun in his custom-made plastic office chair away from his workstation on her dresser top and took a good look at her state. "Rough day, Honey?"

Leanne glared at nothing in particular, took another deep draught, and rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I hate my fucking job."

Derek frowned in concern. "Anything I can do to help?"

Leanne picked at the label on her wine cooler with her short fingernails. "I could really use some stress relief. Would it be okay if I put you in my panties for awhile?"

Derek blinked. It wasn't like he was able to rub her back or shoulders. "Sure, Babe. Anything you need." He stood from his chair, removing the heavy soft cotton shirt and pants he'd painstakingly cut from handkerchiefs and sewn together. They weren't pretty, but they were comfortable and warm.

Leanne drained her first bottle, walked over to her dresser and picked up her naked boyfriend in a single, chubby fist, then stalked back over to her chair.

Leanne didn't bother to change out of her uniform, nor did she bother to clean herself up any.

She popped the button on her uniform pants, lowered the zipper, and shuffled into a slouch almost petulantly. Without another word and still looking like storm clouds were hiding in her expression, she shoved Derek behind the barrier of her underwear until he felt right.

Then she picked up another drink and opened it.

To a casual observer, nothing would seem amiss. Just a tired, irritated wage slave drinking alone and still in her work uniform, pants undone with blue panties poking out of the gap in a semblance of hurried comfort.

If a person would look closer, they'd notice the faint movements happening behind the crotch of her pants, as her six-inch tall boyfriend toiled away at her sweaty pussy.

Derek didn't know how long he was working on massaging and squeezing the agitated woman's clit. He thought she'd had two or three small orgasms, and she felt wet differently than the sweat he'd started with, but really he didn't know if he was even helping or not.

In any event, Derek enjoyed all of it. He liked the smell of her sweat, and the smell of her pussy, so it followed that starting with sweaty pussy was good, too. He labored in the heat and humidity beneath her panties without complaint, for an unmeasurable amount of time. He worked right up until a giant clumsy hand grabbed him and dragged him bodily up her fuzzy pooch until he was halfway out of the underwear. The elastic of Leanne's panties stretched across his lower back, and he sank into the fluffy curve of the lower portion of her inverted belly.

Derek tried to gauge Leanne's expression, but it was difficult due to his angle and the sheer size of the big woman's bust. Her eyes seemed to be in a little better of a mood, anyway. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nooooo," the big woman slurred. "Juss 'ad to work real hard today. Like, real hard. Got all sweaty."

Derek chuckled and nuzzled her softness with his face. "I noticed."

"Yeah. An' it sucked. Issa good thing mah boyfrien' don't mind no sweat." Leanne leaned in more towards him as though sharing a secret, and whispered loudly in an alcoholic exhale. "He likes mah sweat!"

"Leanne, Baby... How many drinks have you had?"

Her brow furrowed in thought, and she leaned over to the left, counting the empty bottles in the carrying box. "Five."

Derek's eyebrows raised. "Five?"

Leanne stared at him, glaze-eyed, then leaned over to the right. "Oops. I meant nine."

"Nine?"

Leanne finished the drink in her hand, emptying the bottle. Then looked to her right again, and then her left. "'Leven now. One leff'."

Derek buried his face in the ultra-soft fluffy fat of Leanne's tummy, and laughed quietly to himself. Her math skills were shit when she was tanked. Still, how long was he in his girlfriend's drawers that she had time to put down eleven wine coolers?

He finally got control of himself, and looked back up at her face. As soon as his eyes made contact with hers, her face lightened up with happiness. "'Err's mah sexy boyfrien'!

Derek humored her good-naturedly. "I'm sexy?"

"Uh-huh," Leanne nodded, and palmed her pussy to rub up and down it. In actuality, she was rubbing her cooch with Derek's legs, not that she noticed. "Ahm so glad I was wassa one 'oo saw you shrink, an' you let me bring you 'ome wid me. Sexiest man ever... in mah panties."

Leanne's eyes bulged, and she burst into drunken laughter. "Yeh got in mah panties!" she exclaimed, laughing even more.

Leanne's laughter, booze-fueled though it was, was incredibly infectious. Derek couldn't help laughing along with her as his platform wobbled and shook gelatinously.

She reached over the armrest, grabbed her last bottle and cracked it open, the cap fumbling out of her clumsy fingers. "Hey... Hey! Less' talk about de porn sellin'! Make bunches of money, righ? An'enn quit mah job." Her face darkened momentarily. She didn't seem to realize she was still rubbing her pussy lips with her boyfriend's legs.

Derek slowly shook his head. "I don't think making this decision when you're drunk and irritated is the best idea, Babe."

Leanne chugged half of her last drink in one long swallow. "Sure it is! Cause mah boyfrien' can talk me into doin' it now! Yer really smart, han'some man. I bet you gots loss' of idears. Whass' de one dat I'd haffta be dis drunk for?"

Derek sighed in defeat, and mentally ran through his list of ideas for the safest. "The pee one," he decided.

"Okay? An' whad I gots ta do?"

Derek realized there was no stopping her, not right now. "You have to set up the recorder on the bathroom floor, and get that enormous wine goblet you have, put it in front of the camera. Then you drop me into the glass, tell me it's a punishment, and pee into it."

Leanne snorted, "No, really. Whass de idea?"

Derek shrugged, the elastic across his back getting uncomfortable. "You asked which one you'd have to be drunk for. This is one of the themes. You just really have to wait until you think you're going to piss yourself, to fill that goblet as full as possible. If you really want to do this, you should finish that bottle and start drinking a bunch of water."

Leanne blinked bleary at the little man pinned to her belly by her underwear. Then she drained the last of her bottle, stood, and stumbled over to get the video camera, pants undone yet staying up due to her wide hips, boyfriend in the open gap of her zipper and forgotten about for the moment.

She managed to get the camera on the floor and turned on, then retrieved the giant clear-glass goblet, the container looking like a round wine glass but ten times the size, with a thick, stubby stem that led to a wide base on the bottom.

Derek found himself in a staring contest with Leanne's deep, dark bellybutton as she gathered the supplies.

She placed the comically large glass on the bathroom floor, right in front of the camera. Then she remembered the man in her panties. "Is'sat good?"

Derek craned his neck to look behind him. "Further out, Honey. More towards the wall."

It took time, but eventually Derek had talked her into taking her clothes off and guzzling glass after glass of water.

"How much more water do I gots ta drink?" she whined.

"Until you can't hold it anymore, Leanne. Besides, it'll help with your hangover."

"Oh," she stated dumbly. "Issa good thing yer so smart."

"Now remember, push record, put me in the glass, and tell me that I was a bad toy and I'm getting my punishment. Oh! And for the video, my name is Billdo, and your name is Goddess. Got it?"

Leanne snorted in laughter. "Like a dildo, but a Bill, too!" She drank more water and smiled happily. "An' I'mma Goddess! An yer- Uh-oh. Gotta go right now."

Surprisingly to Derek, Leanne remembered to do everything even though she was way past 'hammered' and on her way to incoherent. She grasped him in her clammy hand with a grip just a little too tight, and staggered into the bathroom.

She pushed record on the camera, dancing foot-to-foot in the international pee-pee dance, and staggered around to in front of the camera, feet on either side of the glass goblet.

"Yer... yer a bad toy, Billdo!" she slurred. "A bad, bad toy! An' now, yer gonna get yer p'nshmn't."

Derek begged convincingly in character as she dropped him into the enormous wine glass, the rim at least four inches above his head as he stood up in the center of the transparent encasement. He couldn't help but to stare upward as Leanne drunkenly squatted over the rim of his clear prison, her musky scents filling his glass tank with humid vaginal odor and stale sweat, and a few drops of hot piss dripped down on him before she simply opened up the floodgates and everything came shooting out in force.

The powerful, thick urine stream knocked him from his feet, and kept him under the surface as the mockery of an aquarium began to fill. As the level rose, he got caught in the current, swirling around and around the circular glass. Foam bubbled and rose to the top of the liquid, nearly mimicking a beer pour.

Leanne's piss was body temperature hot, and the alcohol content within it made Derek's eyes burn even though they were clenched shut. He held his breath and tried to scramble to the surface.

He made it once, before Leanne's still-powerful stream dunked him into the brine again.

He could hear the stream as it punched through the surface of the rising piddle, and he almost sighed in relief when it quit. A bubble still managed to escape his mouth, floating upward through the yellow liquid. Then a short burst of more pee shot down. Then one more.

Derek swam to the surface, grasping the rim of the goblet and wiping his eyes clean, coughing and retching. While he normally enjoyed Leanne's fluids, her booze-piss wasn't very pleasant at all.

He finally took stock, noticing that Leanne had filled the goblet to an inch below its rim, which was a sizeable feat. The glass was designed to hold at least two entire bottles of wine. Maybe three. He flung his arms over the side, holding himself up like he was in a public pool.

Derek glanced around the room, finding Leanne passed out, sitting on the floor against the wall with her head bowed low and her legs wide open, directly across the wineglass from the camera.

He heaved one last time, and spit the taste from his mouth over the side. If the video turned out as epically as he thought it did, it was going to sell really well. Not that it was any fun shooting it.

He looked at his snoring girlfriend, then at the vat of cooling urine he'd been deluged under, the foamy top dissipating, and then at the sink, so very high above his head.

"Aw nuts. Outsmarted myself."

******

Leanne awoke feeling about a hundred times better than she had any right to. She had an awful crick in her neck and back, she had a slight headache, was a little queasy, her bladder was full, and the room stank to high heaven. Still, after her binge the night prior, the woman felt pretty good, considering.

She cracked open her eyes, catching sight of the huge glass filled with her piss, which led to thoughts of Derek.

She'd passed out, and left him naked in a swimming pool of her urine! Leanne frantically scanned the room for any sign of her missing boyfriend.

He wouldn't have slid himself into my vagina to keep warm, would he?" she worried to herself. He KNOWS that my pussy tries to eat him!

She carefully checked with her fingers, uncomfortably wedging between the tacky lips, and found herself empty. Leanne breathed a sigh of relief. She carefully got to her feet and checked her butt-crack for a wayward half-foot man, again coming up empty-handed.

She edged her way around the Goblet of Yellow Fire, and sat on the toilet to relieve her bladder. She slowly hefted one breast, checking the fold beneath, then the other.

With still no sign of Derek, she emptied the glass into the toilet, flushing everything down, and rinsed it out in the bathtub just once.

She left the bathroom, being very careful where she put her feet down, and finally found her man sleeping in her discarded uniform top on the floor.

She nudged him with a finger, gently. "Hey, wake up Honey."

Derek cracked his eyes open and stretched. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Better than I should," she admitted. "I'll bet you'd like a bath."

Derek grinned ruefully. "You'd be right. Last night wasn't one of my better ideas."

Leanne chuckled and went to fill the bathroom sink, not moving as fast as she did most days. On their excursion to Derek's apartment, she'd gathered his own shampoo and body wash, so she pumped a small dollop of each on the rim for him to use.

Once Derek was in the water and scrubbing himself down, Leanne sat on the toilet to talk.

"I feel like I should be apologizing to you, Honey. I should never have pushed to make a video, and I really shouldn't have fallen asleep before you were cleaned up and someplace safe."

Derek paused with his hands full of sudsy hair. "I'm pretty sure that most of the blame falls to me. You were determined to make a video, and that was the only idea I had that guaranteed you wouldn't pass out with me trapped inside of you somewhere."

Leanne thought that over, and shuddered. She would have passed out, and the idea of him trapped in her pussy, or even in her ass, unable to breathe and slowly dying while Leanne drunkenly slept was horrifying. "Good thinking, Baby. This really was the best you could have done. Did... did you look at the camera at all?"

"No. Not yet. If you'll help me hook it up to the laptop, I can download it and see how it came out later. I had to try and dry myself on the bathroom mat, and then I slept in a pile of your uniform. You're going to have to wash those, sorry about that."

Leanne shrugged carelessly. "I was going to have to go to the laundromat tomorrow anyway. Do... do you think that we should try and sell it? The video, I mean?"

Her boyfriend kept scrubbing himself down with his body wash, scooped from the rim of the sink. It was his second pass. "I do, but that shouldn't be the first one we post. We can talk about it when you feel better. Are you calling in to work today?"

Leanne shook her head. "No, this wouldn't be the first time I went to work achy and hungover. I appreciate you making me drink all that water, I feel almost normal."

When Derek had finished his bath, Leanne carried him to the dresser top, holding him close to her face and taking deep sniffs. She loved how he smelled when he used his own bathroom supplies rather than hers.

She connected the camera to the laptop, as directed by him, and then went to clean herself and get ready for work.

******

Once upon a time, Leanne hated going to the laundromat. With nothing to occupy her while her laundry was washing or drying, she'd begin comparing herself to the other woman there, and would always leave feeling depressed.

For instance, that skinny girl at the arcade machine, the one with the beautiful red hair that held all the hues of a campfire? Old-Leanne would have hated her for making her feel fat and dull. But that was Leanne in the pre-Derek era.

New-Leanne had a much better outlook.

That redhead couldn't know what it's like to have her boyfriend do a gymnastics floor routine on her lumpy mattress for no other reason than to entertain her. While he was naked. She couldn't know what it was like to have that boyfriend not be angry when she laughed at his comical falls, but to instead laugh right along with her.

Those two college girls in the corner? Neither of those snickering bitches got an intense, gushing, G-spot orgasm every Monday morning to start her workweek. Neither knew what it felt like to have her boyfriend tap her clit for forty-five minutes straight, or how good the penetration felt right after.

That heavily pregnant, harried-looking woman, trying to both do her family's laundry and corral a rambunctious three-year old?

Well, Leanne was still envious of her. Some things Derek just couldn't fix.

But that blonde who looked like she'd just stepped out of the cover of a fashion magazine? Just seeing her would have sent Old-Leanne to a liquor store on the way home, to drink herself into at least one bad decision and an ovary-crusher of a morning.

New-Leanne knew better.

Supermodel-Blonde didn't have a man who both could and would lay in her panties like a hammock. Didn't have a man who would choose to spend hours slowly teasing her with caresses from doll-sized hands all over her most sensitive areas in the middle of a public laundromat until she felt like she was going to explode.

Leanne casually looked around, and seeing no one was looking her way, cupped her hand between her thighs and pressed her boyfriend in to smash his hard chest against her clit.

She rubbed him around in a slow circle, twice, and then just kept the pressure there while she silently came and came. That little bit was all she needed to pop the cork on her fireworks.

Once she'd finished, she gave him a single caress from her finger, through the layers of her sweatpants and her underwear, and went back to folding her clothes.

Most importantly of all, though, Supermodel-Blonde couldn't know what it was like to have such awful self-esteem, such self-disgust for decades on end. She simply wasn't old enough, for one. For another, she was too pretty to have ever felt as badly as Leanne. The blonde couldn't know what it was like to be so low.

So it followed that the blonde couldn't then know what it was like to have the most wonderful man in existence dropped in her lap like he was a gift from The Almighty Himself. She couldn't know what it was like to have that man inspire her to feel attractive for once. To feel sexy.

Supermodel-Blonde couldn't know what it was like to genuinely feel beautiful to herself after a lifetime of feeling not.

No, Leanne wasn't envious of the blonde. Not even a little. The girl didn't have Derek like Leanne did...

And she didn't have boobs like Leanne did, either. Blondie would have to stuff her bra to fill an A-cup.

Leanne set the folded t-shirt on top of the others, and picked up the laundry basket to bring to her car, the second to last. Her giving boyfriend began to tease her again.

As she backed into the door to open it with her arms full, Leanne caught a glimpse of the blonde's backside, and shook her head in pity.

The girl was shaped like a two by four, the poor thing.

******

#GTSGodBil0001

Watch Goddess slowly envelop her human dildo in her hungry cunt as she masturbates! Poor Billdo tries to get free, but Goddess's pussy is too powerful!