Sheldon at Solstice

It ran off onto her neck, down the sides of her belly, and onto my crotch while I shimmied into position. With long, unhurried strokes, I stuffed myself between the giantess's breasts while she shut her eyes beatifically. The caress of her soft skin had my full attention at first. Then, I spared a thought to send one of my sucker-clad arms down her pants to graze her bits. Rubbing there yielded the first of several surprises that night: a seductive melody of pleasured moans and sighs. Pitched, seemingly improvised, flawless, and across at least a two octave range.

I'll tell you two things about the monsters of Spitzbergen. First, they get freaky in their caves up there, and second they've got some serious pipes on them. In singsong, Grýla was absolutely mellifluous.

"Faen," she cried, "I don't know what you're doing to my fitte, but keep doing it."

As a queer man, I'll admit, I've never taken titfucking all that seriously. I hated having it done to me as a teenager with barely sufficient boobs; I certainly had no grievance when HRT made my chest far too small to bottom the activity. But after Josefina's recent breast augmentation, I discovered topping it can be goofy fun. With Grýla's absurd knockers, and me with the extra-large space dick and a tentacle slithering into her cunt, it was doubly absurd and still pretty damn fun.

So when the giantess's eyes went as wide as a pair of softballs, and she began to cry out in enraptured soprano and dribble wetness from between her legs, I was already rather invested; and I was a bit bummed when she said she needed a few minutes' intermission.

"Creation," she said, winded, her voice assuming its usual old-as-the-hills timbre. "I could do that a dozen times. How about you, Blekksprutgutt?"

"I'm sorry, what?" I was standing over the mattress now, stretching out my limbs.

"It means, ah... Octopus Boy."

"I love it. Can I grab you some water before we go again?"

We didn't spend the whole night titfucking, but we went again a couple times, each time trying something slightly different. Me facing away, towards her feet, while she teased my asshole with a wetted fingertip; her looming over me while I sat at the couch, as I treated her to a reacharound with octopus and squid tentacles. When I slid my eager cock against her chest, the tip nearly reached her chin.

Her proportions were such that that didn't seem quite possible. But she could roll out her tongue like a red carpet to greet it, like nobody I'd ever met, save perhaps my mentor Kaesalpinnix with their bear snout.

Grýla tongue was soft and slick and warm. And it had a little canker-like bump that I could distinctly feel as it grazed my tip, slid past the tender bit of flesh that lovingly recreated circumcision scars of some of my partners, and halfway down the shaft.

Oh, fuck.

I looked into her eyes, which were nearly level with mine despite her kneeling position. They spoke volumes, on top of what I could already feel from her empathically: thrill, delight, and an aching desire to take things further.

"Grýla, I..."

"You want me to suck? I can tell, you're curious. This maw has swallowed baby seals whole, it is quite tough."

I grabbed my dick with both hands. Not so much to beat it off as to try and gain control of what it was trying to do. The giantess looked untroubled. Me, not so much.

"You're thinking about it right now, aren't you. How much of it could pass my lips before you're shoving my uvula aside and sliding into my... heh."

Oh. Oh shit, here we go. She stuck her tongue back out expectantly as the first spasm rippled through me.

"Shit!"

Warm cum, made sticky and briny and masculine by years of HRT, surged through my demon plumbing and erupted. Some of it hit her chin and tongue, some of it plastered the faint bit of peach fuzz above her upper lip, and some of it hit her neck and ran onto her chest. The rest dribbled down my cock and balls and left hand.

Grýla smiled from ear to ear, and she hummed a little ditty in that absurdly melodious singsong voice, as she wiped the jizz around and into her skin. "This stuff's marvelous for my wrinkles, you know."

I somehow doubted my cum was the reason, but actually, after going a few rounds, the giantess did look a bit younger. She was still a tubby 9-foot troll with warts. But her skin was a bit more like leather, and a bit less like tree bark. And her head didn't hunch over quite so low.

"I'm, uh, glad you don't mind," I said. "I try to ask folks first if they want it, and where."

"Relax, my little Blekksprutgutt. You're doing fine. If I could get my Leppaludi to do a quarter of what you do, I would never leave the mountains. I'd say fuck it, let's be fat lazy sex pigs together. Let my boys handle Yule by themselves, they're old enough."

4.

I went to the kitchen to grab my now-cooled coffee. I took a few sips on the couch.

"So," I asked as I set the mug down on a coaster, "you and he don't fuck anymore?"

Grýla shrugged and gritted her teeth.

"A few times in a century, nowadays. When I get my taste of outside sex, or bathe in the blood of a dozen children, I come home and... then he's attracted to me. 'My dear prune,' he'll say, 'what became of you? You look daisy fresh. Come to me.' And I let him fuck me, right then and there. I'm not needing it again so soon, but it's nice to have his full attention. But two hours later, it's over, and then it'll be a week before he feels the need. And then a month, a year, a decade, and I dry up and shrivel all over again. And the cycle repeats."

I reached down to where she was sitting, and stroked her enormous head of hair. I didn't know how she managed it, but she'd gone into the shower that afternoon looking heavily matted, come out looking decent and mostly detangled, and now, her head was an avalanche of shiny, arrow-straight white and straw-blonde strands.

"That, my mighty spruce tree of a woman, is tragic. If I could summon the dudes from Queer Eye, I'm sure we could fix your situation. But they're busy defending pink sauce, so fuck it. Assface and I will think of something. Did he tell you about the time we saved the planet?"

That seemed to lift her mood a little.

"Spruce tree, I like that. You can call me your Grantre."

"Grantre? Okay, sure. Come here, Grantre," I said, and I let my pants and briefs drop to my ankles. "I would love to see how you suck a cock."

Which brings us to the second big surprise of the night.

Her eyes had that inscrutable predatory look as she leaned in close, gave the dick a confident stroke or two, pursed her lips and slid it between them. Her mouth was hot and cavernous; save for those powerful lips and tongue, I didn't feel much, until she had taken half of my length and I brushed against something.

"Oh, that's nice. What is... that?"

I could feel her swallowing, but it was distinctly inhuman in more ways than just the scale of our body parts. She seemed to have precise control over the throat muscles; I felt them grab onto my cock, tugging at the skin this way and that. She barely moved her head, and my hands were fidgeting idly at my sides; but deep in her mouth it was like a big wet hand jerking me.

I tossed my head back, thinking I might get to enjoy half a minute of this before she came away panting for air. But she just... kept... going.

"Holy fuck," I said. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Only now did she lift her head to reply. "Another human, no way. You? Probably."

My eyes shut tight with anticipation. I must have looked the very adult version of a kid on Christmas.

"I don't think I can take much more," I said, interrupting her as she was sinking down on my cock yet again.

"Then bring it over here," she said conspiratorially. "Let me swallow it while I finger you." She lay back on the mattress, and gestured for me to come straddle her face.

It was a high-difficulty position for a blowjob, one I normally reserved for highly skilled dicksuckers like Josefina, and only at their request. However, as is so often the case in my "professional" life as a Morai-sa representative, human rules had gone out the window. I dropped to my knees, careful not to put weight on her neck; Grýla opened wide; and I turned out my hips, pushing me forward and into her.

I heard, and felt, the giantess fumbling around with something under her woolen skirt. Then I felt the huge finger, slicked up with her own lube, teasing my asshole.

How could anyone last two hours with this woman?

I had to sit still for a couple minutes, half buried in her face, concentrating hard to get my ass to relax. But then I was glad I had. That enormous finger reached up and into me and massaged my little pleasure button. I began to drip, dribble and then drool out a steady stream of thin cum, shivering with arousal.

Her free left hand started smacking my ass, goading me to thrust into her. Once she'd made clear what was expected of me, she went back to jilling off furiously, letting out little moans of ecstasy when a baseline human wouldn't know how to breathe, much less vocalize, with a dick stuck in there that far.

And as advertised, I could not keep it together. The next time she spanked my ass, I reached out and grabbed two fistfuls of her lovely hair and shoved it in to the hilt, and held it there, hips twitching involuntarily with the undulations of her throat. I let it drag the orgasm out of me. This time it felt as abrupt and pent-up as a shotgun blast.

"Mmmnnnnn!" Grýla intoned, swallowing it all up, overstimulating me further.

"Fuck, shit, oh fuck I can't take it, it's too good, please I..." I cried, rather louder than intended.

I stood up awkwardly--which, let's be honest, there's no way other than awkwardly to dismount that position. I think cis men who've had their ego filled to the bursting point, because domspace is a real and dizzying thing, are too high on life to appreciate the visual ridiculousness of it all. I mean I slid out looking like the saddest little shrinking elephant, my legs rubbery with exhaustion.

My smile was weak but myrthful, and hers was satisfied and strong, as I stumbled over to lie down parallel to her.

"Shit, I don't know about you but I think I need coffee and a snack. What the hell time is it even?" I checked my smartwatch. "Ten?!"

The giantess frowned. "We've only a little over half the night left."

I wasn't immediately sure what to say to that, so I asked myself what Tamaki Suoh would do. A host should always do his best to lift his guest's spirits.

I gave her a sympathetic look as I reached out to caress her left tit.

"For what it's worth? I'm having such fun here, I don't think I could let you go a century without paying me another visit. But we'll figure that out in the morning. For right now"--and here I reached out a squid tentacle, patting her loudly on the belly with its club, a move shamelessly stolen from the Anomaly--"tell me what you want to do. Sit on my face? Get fucked? Get podded in all your holes?"

She wrinkled her brow uncertainly at that last option. "Squid tentacles," I explained. "You'll see."

Grýla considered this carefully.

"Hmmm. My fingren in your raeva felt nice... I can think of some things to try."

5.

Dear reader, it bears repeating that I've been to other dimensions, I've had all my holes stuffed simultaneously by a horny shoggoth, I've been gangbanged by cosmic horrors and I've been dominated by a sadistic spider demon. It takes a lot to make me truly nervous nowadays.

But Grýla fit the bill. So when she asked sixty-nine, I made a couple of tweaks.

First, as I lay back on the mattress and propped up my ass with a pillow, I grew myself a couple of extra tracheal stomas out the sides of my neck. It's important to be able to breathe, should you find yourself with a half-ton monster on top of you. Then I added a little slack to the insides of my bottom holes. Doesn't matter if you can heal sexual injuries in seconds, they still take you completely out of the passion of the moment.

There was also the minor risk of breaking a rib, or suffocating under her weight, but for that, I could only hope my extra limbs would bear enough of the load.

"But first, me see this body your god gave you," she said, leaning over me to part the robe and trail her thick fingers down my body. I'd let the space dick vanish, replaced by my default hardware. "Ooh! Such manly muscles on my Blekksprutgutt. And down here"--I shuddered as she brushed against the swollen 2 inch long T-dick, and continued down my thighs--"you're as pretty as a girl!"

I blushed slightly as I pushed my knees apart. "I'll take that compliment. Anyway, I can play with it a little--"

"And deny me a chance to play with fitte? It's been centuries. You just use your hands to put your legs back."

I was starting to get tender in my bits after so many rounds of using the space dick, so the moment they felt her tongue's caress, I was bordering on overstimulation.

"Haaaaaah. Go slow," I said shakily.

And she did, or at least what counted as slow for a troll at mealtime. She ate it all, clit, cunt and ass, like an animal--using her whole mouth, and with the most feral of noises. I shouldn't have been entirely surprised if she'd gotten carried away and sunk her big, ragged teeth into my thigh meat. But no. If nothing else, she remembered and respected which kind of meal I was.

I inhaled sharply as she twirled one gnarled finger around between my labia, coating it thoroughly in spit and my own lubricant, and slid it into my cunt.

"Fuuuuck."

"You want fuck?" she said, between rounds of smacking my T-dick around with her huge tongue. "I'll show you fuck."

Her finger slid into me, almost but not quite up to the second knuckle. I'd widened the canal, but I hadn't made it any longer. This seems to have become my line in the sand. I'll consider wearing tits for a sex scene, but I won't pretend to have a normally proportioned clit and vag. These things don't trigger me anymore. But they aren't for sex, they are for education and performance art.

"Careful," I said, stroking their hair affectionately. "It's very shallow even by human standards."

The thought occurred to me briefly that this was, to Grýla, about as tiny of a motion as muffing Josefina was to me.

Soon, she had one finger resting calmly inside my cunt, and a second sliding deeply in and out of my ass. Overstimulation of my clit had ceased to be an issue, but now I felt so stuffed it was a wonder I had room to drop my diaphragm to breathe. She was a demanding lover, to be sure. But she topped off my batteries, and then some. Which meant there was no extravagance I couldn't attempt. I could see myself enjoying a night like that every few years.

"Alright, little Blekksprutgutt. Let's make this more interesting."

She slid off of me and shuffled around until she was kneeling, legs spread, cunt and ass nearly in my face.

"I'm read--"

The rest came out as a strangled murmur, reverberating from my other breathing holes. I could feel what must have been a hundred pounds or more pressing down on my face; I couldn't open my eyes, nor breathe from my mouth and nose at all.

Then the pressure let up a bit, at least sufficient that I could move my tongue around. There was something vaguely sweet and almost... gamey about troll cunt, unexpected but not unpleasant. Sheer proportionality dictated that her clit was about as large as mine, and it slid around quite freely when I batted it back and forth.

"Yes, my dear little manslut."

Again I felt her damp fingers slide into my holes, but this time with a bit more temerity. I suppose she didn't want me to get off too soon.

Not that it did much good. I must have had half a dozen little orgasms, with little to no ejaculation, while struggling under constraint of that weight to properly eat her out. But hey, she was clearly appreciating it. She began to rock back and forth, slowly and steadily at first, but increasingly in sharp little pumps of her hips. So, too, increased the fervor of her singsong, and the force with which she fingered my asshole.

"Naughty man, naughty man," she began to say as she tipped my chin back slightly and grinded her bits in my face. "Make me... make me... hnggghhh!"

The flood of watery spurt poured over my nose and face like I was being waterboarded in it. It was profuse, and it just kept coming.

"Naughty man," she said again with a coy, gentle smack to the side of my face. "Look what you've made me do now. And you're not even finished. Clearly, we'll just have to keep going until you cum again."

I'd had all of three breaths of fresh air when she sat back down on my face and began jerking off my T-dick in her fingers. I lost control before she could even get her finger back up my ass. This time, I made sure I tapped out, giving me a chance to actually vocalize where I was at.

"Fuck, fuck, oh my fuck... I actually got off a few times... Not all my orgasms come with jizz... That was awesome, but I need a breather."

We stopped for 2AM coffee and tea and donuts. While I was in there, I chanced to look at my phone, which I'd left silenced and plugged into a charger.

I had several texts from Jo. I took a moment to reply to the most recent one, from about 1:20AM, which simply said:

Misha says pls confirm you're alive. Something he saw when he got up to pee

Christ, that poor man. From the top of the stairs one might conceivably have gotten a glimpse of me getting faceridden to hell and back. Meesh knew I was a competent bottom, but still... oof.

I'm fine but not enough coffee in the world. Running on adrenaline. Coming upstairs to pass tf out at sunrise

"I gotta say," I said aloud as I returned to the living room, "I'm getting pretty excited to pound that fitte. And maybe that ass? But first... donuts!"

Or more accurately, donuts, latkes, hiroshimayaki, cider and red wine. I grabbed some petit fours and a slice of schoolbread as well. Two in the morning, and I was heating up a whole little dinner for us.

"These, you have to try. They're from Japan, another place that truly appreciates fried food like we Jews do."

She said nothing, because she was too busy going to town on it. High praise from a troll.

"Alright, so, the situation with Leppaludi. Spill. I've been with lots of men, so maybe I can help. What's different when you first come home to him? Is there something special about that first night that you can't seem to sustain?"

As it turned out, there were a couple things. For one, I didn't understand what sort of time-dilating nonsense made it possible for her to reach northernmost Canada in two days, set sail, and land in Svalbard in another two. But the trip left her limber and in excellent physical condition. She could be on top, she could do most of the work, and she could accommodate her man in any number of ways. Clearly that wasn't it.

And on a related note, the years when she'd managed to find a lover, she found herself better prepared to receive her husband's monstrous troll dick in whatever hole would please him. She enjoyed it all, but if a week went by without sex, as happens, it would be a lot more difficult to use either her cunt or her ass the next time... and Leppa could be lazy about foreplay, excepting when the sense of novelty really got him into a particular mood.

Not helping things was the fact that he sucked at communicating in the heat of the moment. They'd developed some understandings of blanket consent, which helped, and he steadfastly kept to those for her sake. But she still didn't love how rather than proposing them, he tended to just grab and take them. And if he decided he didn't want to do something, he didn't explain himself. He just stopped doing it.