HI! I never wrote a giantess story before so sendme your feedback. If you have a formula for dimensions, height/mass ratios etc,please help me out. New installments will show up every week or so. Enjoy!William was boring. His scope of life didn't extend beyond his trivial passions:video games, sci-fi, anime, spy paperbacks, cable TV and keeping on top of thelatest in technology. He hadn't slept with a woman since college and the fewtimes he tried to get out of his house in Palm Springs were pitifullyunsuccessful. Invariably he would retreat to a corner or hand around the edge ofthe dance floor nervously bobbing his head and shuffling a little to thewhumping beat as he stared at the girls. He wanted them, the blondes, goths,trendies, asians, and glamour girls, but the haughty way they held themselves,their tight clothing- sophisticated or outrageous- and their cruel red lips heldhim back. Too intimidated to approach, he'd watch helplessly as they strutted,danced, and invariably disappeared with a group of chattering girlfriends or aprowling alpha male. Returning home he'd breathe a sigh of dissapointment andrelief and turn on Dragnet or cartoons, trying not to berate himself for being ashameless lecher as well as an impotent coward. He was, in short, a looser.

But William was a very wealthy looser. His immaturity and countless hoursfrittered away in front of the computer had made him somewhat of an expert ontechnology and youth trends. He'd helped finance the extension of Telletubbiesfrom the U.K. to America, invested in the import of Sailor Moon and the evenmore lucrative introduction of Pokemon to US children. He was on top of thelatest in life enhancement, from better cell phones reception to clearer TVimaging. In his most successful venture he had brought over the Tomogachi crazefrom Japan. He had built up the project from the ground level; it was under hisinfluence that the model marketed to westerners was developed (featuring aressurectable chick to accommodate the irresponsibility of American kids). Inspite of bastard rip-offs like Giga-pets, he'd made a fortune, and now enjoyedthe cushy job of trying out prototypes of computer games and gadgets andpredicting for the companies how to modify, if possible, their product forAmerican consumers.

So it was no surprise to William when UPS dropped off a package the size of amilk crate plastered with cautionary stickers warning FRAGILE in both Japaneseand English from Ban Dai Corporation, Tokyo. Ban Dai was high tech, but most ofthe stuff they'd sent him was way too weirdly Japanese to ever market in the US.

As far as really Japanese products went, the manga and anime doo-dads wereusually a safe bet, but William had learned that the Japanese have a verydifferent idea of what's fun than Americans. The only item of theirs he'd beenable to push in the US was the Tomagachi, and even that was weird enough thatthe craze, though lucrative, did not last long. He thought back to the lastproduct they'd sent him, almost a year ago; he vaguely remembered a small andtechnologically sophisticated hologram generator which produced some verylifelike but bizarre cutesy things doing… well, he'd never been able to figureout what the hell was going on. The music was way off, too; spooky but reallycatchy. The irksome jingle came back to him as he carefully cut open the boxcontaining whatever it was they'd been cooking up in the year since he rejectedthe toy.

Inside the box, nestled in layers of foam packing, was a package full ofbrightly colored pills and a second packed with white pills, a small blacksealed baggie and an instruction sheet along with a request for evaluation fromthe people at Ban Dai. He'd nearly forgotten this job in the weeks since thecompany had contacted him; fifteen hundred dollars for his expert opinion.

William smiled smugly, satisfied with the knowledge that he'd come so far thatmoney rolled into his bank account for playing with a new toys. He settled backto examine the products more closely.

While the business letter was written pretty fluently, the enclosed instructionswere a mess of typically garbled English. He scanned them; they seemed simpleenough. “OK,” William said “I am opening black baggy of SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KOwith gently and put in lighted place.” He carefully opened the airtight plasticbag and took a look at SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KO.

It was an egg. Slightly larger and more round than a regular egg, the thing wasspongy and white but pearly. The multicolored sheen of the opalescent surfacelooked tacky, and William decided it was a girl toy. Typical “chibi” and “kawaii”.

He turned it around, couldn't find any buttons or seams and, shrugging, set iton the counter under the kitchen lamp.

Nothing happened. After ten minutes of staring at the damn thing, Williamflipped on the TV, glancing from time to time at the soft, shiny egg.

When “Three's Company” broke for commercial, he looked again, aware that he'dgotten too absorbed in the show to check on the egg for some time. He couldn'tsee any change from his seat but he went over to check more closely anyhow. NoAmerican kid would be patient enough to sit around this long waiting for theirnew gadget to start working. Something must have happened by now, he thought.

And indeed it had. A small part of the egg was protruding slightly; he couldactually see the distended part moving subtly. The tiny pulse in the spotintensified into a definite push from the inside. Hatching, William figured.

Makes sense. He grew juvenilely impatient, shifting his weight from one foot tothe other, anxious to see what the hell was going to come out.

He had predicted something ridiculously cute, befitting the girly shimmer of theegg, but nothing prepared him for the tiny figure that finally broke out fromthe spongy shell and crept out, gleaming wetly with the egg's thick fluid, ontothe counter to lie, heaving, in the light of the kitchen lamp. It was a girl. Atiny, naked girl- no, a woman; she had full breasts and a wisp of pubic hairthat matched the dense purple hair on her head. “Jesus H. Christ,” Williammumbled aloud, “how the hell did they put that together?” What was it made of?Was it- she- alive? Whatever she was, it wasn't human; she looked exactly likean anime babe: huge eyes quivering with beads of light, shiny purple hairfalling into perfect soft spikes, enormous (well, proportionally) tits, theworks. He was dumbfounded. And then she spoke.

“Mika!” It was a small, high-pitched voice. What did “Mika” mean? Was that hername? Did she need something? Without taking his eyes off the little livingdoll, he stepped away and quickly fumbled for the instructions. Under “care” heread that, according to the shitty language of the directions, he was supposedto give it food and water, like a pet, and the instructions referred him to thebag of colored pills marked “esa na ni naru”.

On closer inspection, he realized that the brightly colored contents were notpills but some kind of solid pellet; they looked more or less like really bigrainbow sprinkles. What the hell was in those things? Worry about that later,William decided, and scuttled back to the counter to feed the tiny girl, who waslying limply from the exertion of hatching. At his approach, she picked up herhead and fixed him with those unnaturally huge, dilated eyes. “Mika!” shewhined. He selected a blue candy-pill-thing for her and extended his hand.

“Mika! Mika!” she yelped and sprang to her feet, dancing from one foot to theother and raising both arms to grab at his fingers. She snatched it eagerly andimmediately started biting into it with greedy hunger.

William took out his notepad and tried to think how to record what had justhappened. Under the last entry of “No change” he noted the time and recorded theamount of food given, the utterance that was, presumably, her name, and adescription of her features. He searched around in his desk and finally found aruler to check her dimensions. No tape measure, but he figured he could measureher proportions with string and then measure that. Getting her to stand stilllong enough to be measured was tricky, but with some coaxing she stood uprightand he measured her height at 3.8 in. The string method worked pretty well, herdimensions came out to 2.5, 1.3, 2.2 inches. Outlandish for a human…. well,outlandish for an ordinary woman. He weighed her in at just over a pound, withMika more or less cooperating. She was a little skittish, but seemed tounderstand that he wasn't going to hurt her. What did she make of all this?Could she even think? William was at a loss. She whined again and he gave heranother colored “esa”. He watched as the downed the second, then began toexplore his messy countertop.

She sniffed around in circles before making her way over to Mike's Dilbert mugstill half full of sludgy coffee from this morning. Her fingertips just barelyreached the rim, and she stepped back, cocked her head and asked “Mika?” A fewmore steps took her to the handle, which she shinnied up to perch on the rim ofthe mug, sniffing and wrinkling her all-but-invisible nose. She gave a littleyelp of delight when she saw her reflection in the murky coffee, and begantilting her head and admiring herself with a satisfied insect purr. Reaching upto coyly brush her hair, Mika lost her grip and fell foreword into the mug. Plip.

Michael quickly emptied girl and coffee into the sink. The girl, purple hair allmuddy with coffee, was spitting and gagging at the bitter taste but seemedotherwise ok.

“You're lucky that shit wasn't hot, little Mika-thing,” Michael said as herinsed her gently, wondering what he was supposed to do with her. He referred tothe instructions and saw glossy pictures of plastic SODATSU NA ON'NA NO KOhabitats ranging from tiny to enormous “depending on how much roaming space youwant her to have,” Michael figured. Well, he wasn't going to shell out for oneof these plastic playgrounds for a test sample, he decided. Not when he stillhad the terrarium left behind by Basilisk, the iguana that had escaped andturned up dead under the couch three weeks later. It was three and a half feetby two and a good two and a half high, with a little lamp, fake rocks and awater dish. “Well, baby,” he told Mika, “it aint a little jap penthouse, butit'll have to be good enough for you.”It was not good enough for her. Mika held her tiny nose and, gesturing at theiguana crap encrusting the glass walls, yelled “Mi-KA!” at him. “Sorry, babe,”Mike said, placing the screen cover on the glass tank. He dashed off a few moreobservations, then watched Mika circle the terrarium, finally curling up catlikein a corner. He stared at her tiny body for a long time, watching her impossiblebreasts rise and fall as she breathed in and out. He couldn't help thinking thatif she weren't a toy-pet-product and if she were life-sized…. He suddenlysnapped back to reality and shook his head, aware of his slight but waxinghardness and unnerved by it. “Sweet dreams, Mika,” he whispered, and snapped offthe light as he left the room.

At three am he was awakened by an insistent cry of “Mika-Mika-Mika-Mika-Mika…”He groaned, rolled over and tried to sleep through it, but she seemed to havesensed that he was awake because her cries changed in pitch; her calls becameinsistent, demanding. “Mmmrrrgh,” and he was out of bed, fumbling for the lightswitch. “Like a goddamn Tomogachi,” he thought. Like a baby.

Mika was no baby. He could see from her indignant expression when he approachedher terrarium that she was all woman, and a high-mainanance one at that. Shescowled at him as though he'd stood her up for a big date, and her womanly furyactually made her even more unbearably cute; her breasts bobbing as she huffed,sticking out her lower lip and tossing her head. “Heh heh heh, all riled up,huh?” “Mika,” she said coldly, her wide eyes narrowed to thick-lashed slits withderision. “What what what?” he asked, taken aback, then realized he was beingrebuked by a toy, whipped by less than four inches of a girl. No fucking way.

But a second glance at Mika, fuming like an incensed cat, rattled his feelingsof domination, and he reached for the bag of colored food pellets, eager to getthis over with.

“There, ya happy?” he asked, proffering a green one. The little vixen snatchedit from his fingertips and gave him a disdainful, yet forgiving “Mika.” Hetossed in a couple more in case she got hungry again, and filled the dish withwater. As he was replacing it, he noticed how dirty the bowl was and, withoutthinking, immediately returned to the kitchen to scrub it before offering it tohis demanding ward. She seemed pleased with the water dish and, after admiringherself in the reflection yet again, rinsed her face and hands, and even allowedhim to very carefully stroke her hair with one fingertip. It was softer than arobin's breast. He remained caressing her, transfixed, until she rose to herfeet, stretched her lithe and voluptuous body and dismissed him with a nod.

Michael returned to his room and crawled back into bed. Lying, waiting forsleep, he could still feel her smoothness against his fingertips.

Morning found Mika still curled up and dozing in the slice of sunshine that fellacross her body from the chink in the blinds. Her glossy hair was rumpled.

“Morning, sweet thing,” Mike said, and Mika mumbled and snuggled her headfurther into her folded arms, clearly determined to wake up when and only whenit suited her. Smiling, Michael went through the coffee-making ritual andmunched on a frosted Pop Tart, unfolding the newspaper. He forced himself toread most of the cover stories, a facsimile of adulthood he'd purposely adopted,before allowing himself to flip to the comics. Today's Ziggy made no sense andthe Family Circus, as always, turned his stomach, but he read it anyway.

“Too bad she's too little to cook,” he thought, remembering the stacks ofpancakes and those little sausage patties his mother used to churn out. Theplace could certainly use a woman's touch; the house was masculine by defaultand sloppiness. Where worthless nostalgia like Happy Meal toys weren't crowdingthe tabletops, empty beer cans, CD and DVD collectors edition boxes stood undera film of dust alongside vestiges of manliness, like the enormous lighter shapedlike a tiger (Mike didn't smoke) and expensive hunting knives that were lucky tosee use if he needed to open a bag of Fritos. Movie posters took up thewallspace along with a Jimmy Hendrix, an M.C. Esher print, a blacklight spiral(throwbacks to college days he couldn't part with) and a mounted pair of stagantlers, which he couldn't remember acquiring. Yessir, if she were life-sized,his little woman could really make the place a little tidier, at least. Mike hadnever fully adjusted to independent living, and in spite of degree, career,bulging bank account and house, Mike still lived like he was a college student,slumping around while waiting for the next deadline or party. That's anotherthing, he thought, becoming once again acutely and uncomfortably aware of hisloneliness. I'd screw her little jap brains out if she were life sized. In asecond. He glanced at the tank and was gratified to see Mika stretching andrubbing her eyes.

“Hey, you.” Mike approached the terrarium and inspected Mika. She flashed him asmile and held out her hands for another pellet. Damn, she'd finished both theextras he'd thrown in last night and still she wanted more. How long was shegoing to keep eating like this. He handed her a pink pellet, teasing “you'regonna get fat if you don't look out, sweetie.”He did a double take. Had she gotten fatter? He examined her more closely. Nope,still trim and curved like an obscene hourglass, but she did look heaviersomehow. Bigger, he realized. He mulled that over. Makes sense, he thought, theprogram has to have some sort of direction or, personality aside, she'd be nodifferent from any pet like his late iguana. Go over well with girls, too- thewhole mothering thing. Good design feature, he decided, and waited for her tofinish the two yellows he'd fed her before attempting to measure her. When she'dfinished licking her fingers, Mike lowered his hand into the tank, palm open andMika, understanding, stepped into it. She seemed to be catching on to the rulerbit, too. She stood up straight and grinned as he checked her height. Was sheaware she was growing? It would seem so; she gestured towards her expanded chestand held her head high. Well, high being 4.5 inches, but what a spurt for lessthan a day! Incredible, Mike thought. At least he now knew why she was eating sodamn much; he'd been wondering if maybe she weren't like on of those goldfishthat just keep eating as long as you feed them, right up to the minute they gobelly-up with a busted gut.

Mika strutted for a few minutes, and further explored the countertop. She gavethe coffee a wide berth, and instead scrambled nimbly up a pile of empty pizzaboxes and food containers, surveying the room from the top. She then leapt likea deer, diving towards and grapping ahold of, the telephone cord. She shimmiedup the coils, examined the entirely uninteresting mouthpiece of the telephone,and then clambered back down to the lowest point of the loop, where she swungidly back and forth, legs braced against the wall.

Michael observed her play and added “physical coordination and activity” to hisnotation on her size increase. No wonder Ban Dai offered such big pens for thesethings, all full of ladders and wheels and swing-bars. These SODATSU NA ON'NA NOKOS were highly active and curious; he would have to teeny-girlie-proof hishouse, the thought, surveying all the potential dangers on the countertop andlying on the floor. Those hunting knives, the lighter, the outlets…. He checkedback to make sure Mika hadn't already gotten into trouble and was shocked to seethat, still braced by her legs against the wall, she'd straddled one side of thephone cord loop and was grinding her pelvis against the plastic cord between herlegs. “Jesus H. Christ!” he said, and approached his brazen pet, who continuedwriggling and emitted an audible purr and short squeaks of pleasure. Mika turnedher head and saw him standing beside her, mouth open, and slid him a sexy, slowsmile through sultry, half-closed eyes. “Meeeeeka,” she cooed in a husky,breathless voice, and spread her slender legs wider. He could smell her desire,rising off her in waves of sweetness underscored with the thick, raw femalescent of a heated animal. Christ! They could never sell such a thing to kids,Mike decided as his mind recovered from the shock. He shook his head to clearit, trying not to be overpowered by her sweet-musk sex smell, and pulled hercarefully off the phone cord. A filmy smear of her wetness shone on the cord asit settled against the wall.

Mika, however, did not cease her motions, but continued to thrust her pelvis atnothing as he held her, facing away from him, by the waist. She emitted a smallwhine at the cessation of stimulation, and twisted her hot, moist body in Mike'shand, so that she lay on his palm and coiled her legs around his index finger.

Mike watched helplessly as she began to slowly humping his finger, nuzzling hissecond knuckle with her silky purple head. What was he supposed to do? He couldfeel the warmth and sticky dampness of her crotch, and her (proportionally) hugeand perfectly round breasts bobbed with a frenetic motion that was both lewd andexquisite. His feeling of shock was being superceded with an intense fascinationthat was more than purely academic. Mike had never seen a woman so genuinelyturned on before, so shamelessly pleasure-drunk, and his body responded,heedless of the strange nature of the source of his arousal. Unconsciously heurged her on, as her thrusts became more frantic and her huffing and gasps werepunctuated by short, sharp squeaks of “Mika! Mika!”.

Before he could decide what to do, Mika's body made a final, violent thrashagainst his finger, and she climaxed in a spurt of girl juice and a shriek ofagonized pleasure “Miii-kaaaaa!”. She collapsed, sprawled across his palm, legsdangling, and gazed up at him through sated, half closed eyes, still panting.

She giggled and chirped “Mika” softly like a naughty child. Mike set her downgently on the arm of the sofa and collapsed against the cushions, unaware thathis left hand had found its way to his crotch. She slowly, mindlessly pumped herlegs against the soft upholstery, and let her hands wander to her big breasts toaimlessly caress their still-stiff nipples, as her body wound down from herviolent climax. Mike slumped, dazed, and wondered what to make of it all.

Plaything Part IIKateMike, a young and wealthy investor and product tester for a Japanese toycompany, has been given a prototype for a new product, a tiny anime-modeledwoman who “hatches” from a synthetic egg. She lives on synthetic food- brightlycolored pellets- and has a vocabulary of a single word: Mika. One day afterreceiving her in the mail, Mike is surprised to find that she has grown from 3.8to 4.5 inches. In spite of her limited size and vocabulary, Mike discovers that“Mika” is not only cognizant but temperamental and sexual.

Part of Mike was shocked at what he had done. Mika was a product, he toldhimself, not a person- well, not human, anyway. And yet… he watched her snuggledreamily into the leather sofa… she was a woman. A tiny woman. A growing woman,at that, though he was sure the developmental phase of her program had beencompleted. Well, she certainly wouldn't do as a toy for little girls, he thoughtdryly. Maybe that's not what she was designed for. A living anime babe, a livewoman who ate, slept, grew… and fucked. Jesus Christ! Maybe she was designed forlonely men. Lonely single men, certainly, since the little wife would never carefor such a thing. But single men worked; how would they go about handling theconstant maintenance? Lonely old men, then. Like me, he thought. Twenty six andalready curled up to sit on my pile of money and stare at the ceiling.

Mike's head snapped up as a mug full of pens scattered on the carpet, overturnedby Mika, who yelped, then met Mike's gaze and giggled apologetically. She turnedher attention towards the range of desktop clutter that must have been alandscape to her. She explored the surface of the desk with a fearlessness thatmight have been innocence or boldness, her curiosity matched only by theshortness of her attention span. She picked up an unbent paperclip and showedoff her strength by bending it into a circle, unbending it again and stabbing itinto a gummy eraser. She sniffed out a wad of chewing gum stuck to a post-it andlicked it tentatively. Her tiny mouth spread into a skull-splitting grin whenshe discovered its pliability, and Mika began forming the gum into variousshapes: now a pancake, now a tube, now an egg. Her interest already dwindling,she made to toss the gum aside and her shiny blue eyes widened when it remainedstuck to both hands. Mike chuckled as she whimpered in distress, thenfrustration as she unstuck the gum from one hand, only to transfer it to theother. Long strands of gum stretched between her hands and fingers as she triedto extricate her little hands, and as her frustration peaked, her little facecrumpled and she let out a tiny “Meeee…” that grew into a wail “KAAAAA!!”, andshe began screaming with impotent rage, shaking her purple-haired head andpounding her gummy fists in a bull-blown tantrum. “Ok, Ok, calm down, sweetie,”Mike shushed her, using a wet paper towel to wipe her sticky hands off. Hershrieking died down to a whimper, and she snuffled as she wiggled her cleanfingers and rubbed her hands together. She hiccupped a few times and wiped hernose with her hand. “There there,” Mike said, petting her pretty hair with twogentle fingers. His fussy little girl smiled up at him and said “Mika” with adistinct tone of gratitude. Then, her fit over and her curiosity rekindled, shestruck out to explore the rest of Mike's messy desk, ignoring him completely.

She opened an inkpad, wrinkled her nose at the odor and abandoned it,unwittingly planting one foot on its surface as she moved on to examine theNewton's Cradle, leaving tiny perfect left footprints across a sheet of paper,each one smaller than a thumbprint. She seemed perplexed by the metal ballssuspended from the wooden frame, which was level with her head, and gave the rowof six balls and experimental push. When they swung back and forth, she gave alittle scream of glee: “Meee-ka!” She circled the Newton's Cradle, and gave themetal balls another shove. Mike said “Hey, little Mika, check this out. This iswhat you do,” and her stopped the thing's motion, pulled back the suspended ballon the right end and let it go, allowing it to make contact with a click andmaking the ball on the left end swing out. Mika's eyes widened with amazement,and her head ticked back and forth, following the movement. When it slowed, shequickly moved to do what Mike had done, setting the device into motion again.

Dear God, she was so cute, Mike thought, watching her bright-eyed fascination.

Then, seeing that she was totally engrossed in this new toy, he flicked on theTV and settled into the patchy leather sofa to watch Topcat.

A few minutes later, Mika called out to him. With a little reluctance heabandoned the program to attend to her. “What?” She was saying “Mika Mika”, botharms extended and nodding towards the kitchen. “Oh, right. Food.” Mike rustledher up a small handful of pellets, and set them, and Mika, on the coffee table,where she fell to with startling voracity, making smacking sounds that told himthat, whatever they were, those giant sprinkles were tasty as hell. He licked ablue one with the tip of his tongue and found it unbearably sweet. “Eeech. Youcan have those for yourself,” he told her and settled down at the computer tofritter away the rest of the day.

Dinnertime found Mika snuggled in Mike's womb chair, idly rolling a small rubberball back and forth, one of those twenty-five cent jobs you buy from the littlehopper outside supermarkets. She'd worn herself out bouncing it across the floorand chasing after it, crawling under chairs and into corners to retrieve it.

Mike nuked a Hungry Man TV dinner of Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes, stucka Mad Max DVD in the player and settled on the sofa with a beer. He seldom drankmore than one unless he was watching an action flick. He missed gettingshit-faced drunk with his buddies like back in his college days, but what wasthe point of drinking if you couldn't round up your friends and raise hell? Orpick up a girl at a party and keep refilling her gay-ass wine cooler till shewas tipsy enough to sneak off to a bedroom. He missed that, too: crazy, sloppydrunken sex. Well, any sex for that matter. He finished off the can of Millerand stared gloomily into his potatoes. What the hell, he thought, and poppedopen another. It wasn't until Mel Gibson was kicking ass well into the chasescene that he realized he'd finished the six pack. “Shit,” he said to himself insurprise. Six wasn't a lot, but he hadn't had more than a couple in a rowsince….shit, how long? He tried to think, staring blankly at the widescreen.

He snapped out of it when he felt a tug on the leg of his pants. It was Mika.

She scrambled up his trousers and perched on his knee. He absentmindedly pettedher soft purple hair and reached for another bite of… hey- how the hell did shedo that? He judged the distance from the floor to be some two feet, and Mika wasonly 4 and a half inches….wasn't she? Maybe he had measured wrong- she lookedbigger than that. His blurry brain thought back. Yeah, she shouldn't be- shecouldn't be…big enough to be blocking his view of the screen like that. But shewas.

He lifted her onto the coffee table next to the plastic tray of food (she feltheavier. It wasn't possible.) and he headed back to the kitchen for the rulerand another beer. She stood up when she saw the ruler and held herself straightagainst it. Six and a half inches. She was two inches taller. And she knew it.

She was beaming smugly, proud of her growth. Mike took a deep breath. How couldshe be growing so fast? Was there something wrong with her? Maybe she was…defective. She was only a product, after all. But she no longer seemed that wayto him. She hopped from the coffee table onto his lap and smiled at him, eyesshinning.

Was she a toy or a woman? He couldn't decide. He slowly looked her over. A liveanime babe. Unbelievable. Eyes like supershiny blue saucers, big bouncy titsthat moved like flesh just doesn't move, purple hair, purple pubes…. It wasn'tuntil Mika shifted and gave a little cry of surprise that he realized he wasgetting hard.

Christ he thought drunkenly. Jesus fucking Christ. She was so beautiful. Hecracked another can of Miller and took a long drink, watching her. She shiftedon his stiffening crotch, and, as if sensing his arousal, began to rock slowlyback and forth, her big breasts, now bigger, move as she breathed heavily.

Before he knew it the can was empty. He tossed it over his shoulder. “Meeeeekaaaaa,”she purred, rubbing herself against his crotch. She was getting more and moreturned on; her hands strayed to her breasts, cupping, squeezing, licking herfingers to rub her stiffening nipples. Mike ran a finger down her back and shearched her back, thrusting out her chest. His finger grazed her ass and shemoaned, not like some plaything pixie: like a woman.

She pushed her breasts against his finger. “Mikaaaaa,” she said in a thick,throaty voice. He rubbed himself through his jeans. His throbbing hard-on feltstrained against his pants. Mike was drunk and he knew it, but he couldn't helphimself; he unzipped his pants and freed his aching cock. Mika gasped andstopped moving. Her little jaw dropped. Ever curious, she crept closer andreached out. The contact of her tiny, moist fingers made his penis lurch. Ittwitched when she ran her hand along it. Mika was transfixed, fascinated. Shehad obviously never seen one before, but her body responded without needing herunderstanding. She wrapped her arms around it, her hands just barely meeting,pulled forward as it rose to its full height, bigger than she was. She strainedto reach the head, where a pearl of pre-cum quivered. A groan escaped Mike asshe ran her little hands from the bottom to the furthest she could reach, and hecould not resist picking her up and holding her eager groping hands against thehead. She licked the bead of fluid. Just a drop, but it spilled down her chin.

She thrust her whole body up against it and began humping his dick. It partedher breasts and bobbed up and down as she first rubbed, then slammed her tinypelvis against it. “Mi- Mi- Mi- KA!!” she gasped and all of a sudden he surgedpast the point of no return and he was moving his hips as she bucked up againsthis hard dick, riding it as he groaned, straining towards release.

He came. He surged over her back, on her face, against her breasts as shebrought them up to meet his spurts. He came until his balls ached and Mika'scontinuous caresses became so intensely pleasurable it hurt, badly, and hetrembled. She was still going; her hands sought out the patch of purple betweenher legs, working franticly, her breasts swinging crazily. Mike caught hold ofher and brought her up against his mouth. He licked the wetness from between herlittle legs, ass to stomach, and the taste was unbearably candy-sweet. Shescreamed. He licked. He licked and she came in a gush of sugar juice, shriekingand thrashing, her entire pelvis sucked tight in Mike's mouth. Shuddering, shewent limp. They both lay, panting, sticky, dizzy. Mike was beginning to sinkinto a sodden drunken fog. He was going to pass out any minute. The tinypurple-haired girl swam in his vision, now two, now three. “Mika,” he moaned andhe was gone.