GITJ Post 297: Painting His Apartment, p3

I felt every inch of my nudity now, naked and exposed.

My legs had failed, yes, through my climax in her hand. Their strength was now slowly returning, but my new Office Manager and even more newly-appointed girlfriend Melissa Monroe still held me up. It was the casual strength of her left arm down across my chest that supported me as we gazed at the spectacle of ourselves in the mirror. My massively outsized cock was deflating in her right fist as she towered over me from behind, now resting her chin atop my head and smiling with a grin that was huge and satisfied. She had just made clear to me how excited she was to have a new man in her life that could make her feel so big and huge and strong. The television was still broadcasting the enormous rallies of women across the country who likewise were striving to gain the same thing.

”you w-want to feel big?” I asked, as my eyelids fluttered under the attention of her obliging right hand, which still gently squeezed and massaged my spent, sagging member, floppy and goopy with my own come. It felt nice, indulgently warm.

My query brought her smile a new sparkle, and she answered me with honesty after a moment of thought. “Every time, Jay, that I walk in front of a mirror these days, or watch myself as I step out of the shower,” she began, “I can see, little by little, how my body is changing. Expanding. Getting taller.” She watched my face, how I listened to her with rapt attention. The concept of her growing, the experience of every day her waking up as a larger and larger woman was exciting not only to her but obviously to me as well, and she enjoyed how enthralled I appeared. “Every time I step on a scale I’m heavier,” she continued, “Every day I’m putting on more mass, more weight.” At that she paused and regarded me with a new tenderness. “And with each pound I gain, I always say to myself, ‘It´s for him…’”

That came as a surprise. “F-f-for me?”

“Yes, for you,” she smiled.

“B-but…why?” I asked, half in disbelief again that I had the attentions of such an incredible, beautiful woman. My fantasy girl, in so many ways. What was I but a middle-aged schlub, destitute and failed, sickly and small? A physician still, yes, her employer and erstwhile boss. Maybe my education and accomplishments were attractive to her, a simple girl of little sophistication. But I was older than her by more than a decade, ruined by divorce, and had seemingly so little to realistically offer.

“‘Why?’” she repeated, “Why do I want to keep growing through clothes and busting through bras and - haha ripping through jeans? It’s so I can be more for you, Jay. It’s so I can take better care of you, protect you.” Still she gently massaged my softened member in her hand, all squishy, comfortingly. “And, besides…it just makes me feel sexy,” she giggled, “because I know you like big boobs.”

At that I flushed, in chagrin, caught dead to rights. ”Jesus, Melissa, you are sexy, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, already…”

”mmmm thank you…” she purred, her eyes flashing into mine in the mirror, contented, “go on…”

In my post-orgasmic bliss I didn’t need any encouragement to continue singing her praises. “…a-and this w-weight you’ve, uh, put on…the height you’ve g-gained…”

“Yes?” she urged, lowering her head, now, leaning in a bit more on my left so our faces were right besides one another in the mirror - hers larger than mine, jaw strong, cheekbones perfect and eyes bright.

“…it’s all…it’s all,” I struggled, fighting my hardest not to sound the sniveling simp but failing miserably, “…it’s all so amazing.” I felt her big warm breasts pressing into my back.

“You think big is sexy, do you?” she asked, eagerly curious, “Big women? Amazons?”

“oh g-god yes,” I admitted, all caution apparently gone.

My confession made her smile grow, to that of a jungle cat’s, feral. “Well, if big girls turn you on then I, little man…” she purred, still staring me straight in the eye, still casually playing with the wet, flaccid smushiness of my spent member in her right hand, “…I want to be the biggest.”

I groaned, despite myself, and felt myself somehow starting to waken, in her hand. Maybe it was what she was insinuating, or maybe it was her tits or her pretty face or her perfume, but - though my legs still felt weak and unsteady - my cock was coming back to life.

“Oooo, you think I should do that?” she laughed, obviously feeling a pulse of my new vigor in her hand, and hearing it in my throat, “You think I should go to the gym more, eat healthy, eat lots, get nice and big and strong for you?”

“oh, god, Melissa,” I moaned, eyes fluttering again and leaning back into her strength. I was so far past gone I didn’t even realize what I said next until it was too late. “Is it…is it just that you want to feel big..?” I stammered, now unable to keep her gaze and letting my eyelids droop, “or…d-do you like seeing me be small?” It was like all my submissiveness was pouring forth, the floodgates opening.

“Oh, honey, yessss…” she growled, her eyes flashing again into mine in the mirror, her mouth dropping open in thrill. With that, she delicately peeled her palm away from my now-spongy cock, taking with it a handful of my thick jism. In one smooth motion she slowly wiped it across my belly and lower chest, frosting me with sticky glaze, and showed me her hand. It still shone with wetness.

“oh god, Melissa…” I sighed. I knew - I fucking knew - how pathological the deviant psychology of this moment was. I tried to wrestle with it, resist, exert myself…but it was also just so fucking hot, sinking into this meek, obsequious role.

“Here, do this," she chirped with a new smile, holding her hand up with all five fingers extended, as if to indicate the number "5", “It’ll be fun…”

Compliantly, I mirrored the gesture, and she placed her hand against mine, sticky. My eyes widened at the revelation that my hand was roughly a full digit’s joint smaller, in terms of extended size, than hers.

"Now, you've got really nice hands," she continued, "smooth, soft...and small." She smiled, coyly and innocently, looking down at the size comparison, her hand being so much bigger, and then into the mirror, to watch my own reaction.”Haha, I bet that makes you feel pretty small, huh sweetie?  Seeing my hand look like it’s gonna absolutely swallow yours?”

At the word “swallow,” Melissa had curled her fingers down over the top of my fingertips,  wrapping her long fingers around mine, emphasizing even more obviously our size difference; it actually did look like her big hand was about to “swallow” mine. And worst of all, my reaction to all of this was to feel even more aroused.  Why was I getting turned-on by this craziness!?  What was sexy about Melissa dwarfing me?? Despite the ignominy, I answered her.

“y-yes…” I replied, “I…I feel small.” I looked up to see her staring intently into my eyes in the mirror, still holding my hand, threatening to fully engulf it in hers as the two stuck together with the crust of my climax.

She cocked her head, watching me, and then gently released my hand. “Here, turn around,” she said, using her hands now to move me by the shoulders, spin me until I faced her.

I wobbled a bit, my legs now on their own in supporting my weight now that she was no longer holding me up with her left hand. But they found purchase, and I found myself staring into her chest, mere inches from her formidable bosom in her big black bra. Jesus christ her tits were enormous, filling my vision.

“Y’know what else would make you feel pretty small..?” she next offered from above as she stood up straighter in front of me, once again absolutely dwarfing me, my head now barely at the level of her breasts. I needed to lean back for fear of being knocked over, and I watched as she put her muscular arms out to the side above me and continued: “...This.”

At that, she clenched both her hands into fists, curled her arms and flexed, producing two solid, round biceps that I could not believe were that of a female, let alone my Office Manager and new girlfriend. “I’ve been working out a lot, for years, and more since I first met you,” she said, flexing again and watching as my line of vision had moved from her tits to her arms, right, then left, my mouth gaping in awed admiration, “And I’m pretty proud of the results so far. What do you think?”

My jaw trembled, and I watched as she continued to flex, to pump her arms up even larger, smiling proudly as she swelled up with the efforts of her hard work. It was ture, watching this woman demonstrate her strength and size above me like this was making me feel absolutely small and meager, bubbling with insecurity. “I…I don’t know what to s-say…” I finally admitted, piteously.

She smiled knowingly. "Not bad for a girl, huh?" she quipped, flexing once again, making her biceps dance and peak with muscular rhythm. “Here, give them a feel," she offered, standing straight and now posed in a perfect, double-biceps pose. Because of her distinct height advantage, her raised upper arm was above my eye-level and I needed to reach up to my right, raising my hands to place one on top and one below the swell of her muscle. Even with both hands I could not fully encircle the bronzed upper arm of this young, voluptuous beauty. Spellbound by her brawn, I squeezed, and then gulped audibly. She was soft, her skin smooth and warm, but below she was solid as oak, and her bicep didn't budge one bit to my effort. As I held on she lowered, then raised her forearm. flexing twice, and then laughed loudly at my amazed expression as my tightly gripped hands moved in sequence to her actions.

“You like that, hm?” Melissa chuckled, “You like my ‘gains’?”

“It’s incredible, Melissa,” I said, honest and earnest.

"Well, then, since we're on the subject of ‘gains’,” she beamed, as she lowered her arms and begin to turn around, presenting her huge, amazing rear to me, “how about checking out some more of my progress?"

“Whoah,” I couldn’t help but gasp, as her butt turned to meet me, halfway up my chest. Torn asunder as the seat of her jeans were, the glorious cheeks of her monumental ass cleaved by a black thong  bloomed out from ripped, time-faded denim under the dramatic light.

She posed, like a professional figure model, lower back arched, shoulders back, presenting her rear for my inspection. I fought with all I had for self control to keep from grasping my hands onto her stupendousness and planting my face on her. I struggled with the urge…but then she invited me to do just that.

“My butt’s gotten so big. Can you help me, hun,” she asked, “to get these ripped up things off it? It needs a kiss…”

My heart leapt, and I let out the feeblest of little cries. She giggled, looking down over her right shoulder at me, seeing me absolutely overcome by the sight of her. Her waist, so narrow, and then the giant, muscular swell of her rear was a sight not meant for mortal eyes.

“Is that a yes?” she asked, with another giggle, and pushed her butt out another fraction of an inch towards me.

“Y-y-yes…yes, okay…” I managed, raising my hands now to take hold of the hem of her jeans on either side of her broad hips. I took a moment to marvel at the sight; she was wider across than me, possibly twofold. What would that feel like, on me? Me gripped to her, hanging on like a baby monkey to-

Shaking myself back to reality, I tugged down, tentatively, and immediately knew this was going to be a harder task than it sounded. I tugged some more, and then with all my strength. She giggled, because all I was doing was sending jiggles through her hips and flesh, cheeks bouncing up and down with my efforts.

“Do you need some help, sweetie?” she cooed, still looking over her shoulder and down at me, “Is it too much?”

I eyed her, and tugged again. “Yeah a little,” I admitted.

At that, her hands came behind her to join mine and, with a few giggles, wriggles and jiggles, together we were able to lower the jeans off her massive hips and begin to scooch the torn jeans down. Peeling them down her butt slowly, her big, vigorous glutes were grabbed lower by the tension and then *bounced* back upwards with seismic energy when the taut hem cleared their biggest swells.

“*Boop!*” she giggled, as her cheeks quaked mightily and caused me to gasp, her ass now free of confinement. Lord god in her black thong little was left to the imagination, each tan cheek presented proudly like it’s own small planet. She stooped, a bit, bending at the knees to allow the jeans down her thighs, to her knees. Pushing me back even further her butt was huge, wider by far than my entire body. If I’d thrown my arms around it I’d have little hope of encircling her hips.

“Making you feel small, sweetie?” she cooed, as she dropped her tattered jeans to her ankles, wriggling her hips at me.

“Jesus Melissa you’re big,” was all I could answer, marveling at the perfection of her round, majestically muscular ass, “so much bigger than me.”

She seemed to like that, and with a series of giggles off came her sneakers and socks, allowing her to kick the ruined pile of denim across the room. Next, she spun me around again so we were both facing the mirror, stepped next to me, her left side to my right, and put her left hand on my right shoulder.

"Do this," she chirped, and extended the toes of her left leg, stretching it out and planting her bare foot a pace or so in front of her. Following her lead I imitated the move with my right leg. This time, she actually seemed to embarrass herself with the volume of her laughter, a sudden snort. "I'm sorry baby, but jeez! Look at the difference." She was actually holding her hand to her mouth to stifle her nearly uncontrollable giggling. Smiling along as best I could, I actually had to agree that the comparison was almost comical. Out of shape, my lower limbs were thin, yes. But not terribly below average for a guy of my, uh, size. Five-two? Last I checked…But, anyway, compared to hers my leg looked like a children's stickball bat, almost a full foot shorter. By simply wiggling her toes, Melissa was able to generate a ripple of well-defined muscularity that put my own leg to shame. Her thigh was toned and tan, thick and long, smoothly perfect and obviously powerful. Mine, lightly hairy, was thin and pale and weak.

“What do you think?” she asked, beaming down at the comparative sizes of our legs and taking my right hand, suddenly, and laying it on her thigh. She glanced again at the sight of us in the mirror, her smile changing, and then back down to my small hand on her massive leg. I had to shake my head, disbelieving the size difference. “How’s it feel?”

It was, this huge expanse of female muscle, so smooth and warm of skin I actually shuddered. “P-pretty impressive,” I praised, appreciating the strength I could feel through the soft upper layer of her thigh, “you obviously put a lot of work in at the, uh, gym…”

“Yeah my legs get big quick,” she agreed, flexing her quadriceps for my benefit, making them ripple and pulse under my hand. She then playfully swung her hip into my direction, catching me in the middle of my rib cage as an unspoken reminder of her considerable size advantage.

Smiling down at me, our eyes meeting again in the mirror, Melissa made another non-verbal gesture of her physical superiority by placing her right palm on my head, then moving it horizontally in her direction until it stopped an inch or so from the top of her broad left shoulder. I smiled wanly at her and once more gazed at our reflections, side-by-side in the mirror on the back of my door.

“I mean, godddd, look at us,” Melissa marveled, a new excitement deepening her voice. She’d pulled her leg back in again, my hand falling back to my side. She stood there, proud and tall, in her black thong and matching bra, while I stood naked, emaciated and emasculated.  I was struck again - and, I’m sure, so was she - by her blatant physical superiority over me. It set my heart quivering once more, and it was all I could do to keep from whining.

She took the moment, watching us in the mirror, to raise her arms and release her hair from its ponytail. Her huge mane of raven hair fell in great waves around her shoulders, making her seem even larger in the mirror and even bigger in comparison to me as she shook it out to full volume.

In an involuntary spasm of my own submissiveness, I had the sudden urge to give her what she wanted, to look even smaller, to emphasize and embellish even more the vast difference in our sizes. I gave in to the instinct and began to huddle myself, stoop, cave in my already thin shoulders, bend my neck, tuck in my chin.

“What…what are you doing?” Melissa asked, chuckling at first but then a husky arousal taking over her voice as she watched me seem to physically start to recede next to her in the mirror, “Are you…trying to look smaller?”

I decided I couldn’t say anything, and merely grunted a weak reply, huddling down even further, bending slightly at the knees. Jesus what was wrong with me?! This was pathological, but immediately I could tell it was working. Melissa’s pheromones began to fill the air again, and I felt her left arm reach around my shoulders. I shifted down, further, under her arm.

“Oh my GODDDD, Jay!” she groaned, wide eyed, putting her right hand over her mouth and stepping into my game, “You’re, like…you’re trying to be tiny!”

“I…uh…yeah…” I peeped, unsure of myself, inadvertently playing even further into this submissive role, “i-is that okay?”

“Yes yes yes please,” she urged, obviously excited, her voice dropping, and then adding: “do it some more.” She eyed me with new, aggressive eyes, and I could see her pick up her role in this little game…if it was really just a game, that is…and stand up demonstrably taller. “You’re getting so fucking small these days…” she breathed, nostrils flaring.

This shouldn’t…this shouldn’t have been a surprise to me. Women everywhere were getting into this “vulni” thing, looking for smaller, thinner, more submissive guys. It was the latest trend; why should I expect Melissa to be any different, right? I could…play along, right? But still, my male pride did have a bit of life left. “Hey, I- I mean, come on now,” I attempted, thinking I could maybe save some dignity with some ironic humor, “I’m not…not that small. Just smaller than I was...”

“Uh, compared to me, you are small,” Melissa insisted, her voice sounding dead serious, and not about to let me go. To prove her point, she again pulled me into her body, so that our sides were squished into each other, side by side.  Naked as I was, she in her undies, there was ample flesh contact, and I shuddered as I felt the pure pleasure of her warm, smooth flesh pressing all into me. Her thigh and her hip into my flank, and her JJ-cup breast plastered into the side of my head. I saw in the mirror that my cock, unsurprisingly, had sprung back to life. Melissa seemed to be focused on other things, though, and hadn’t acknowledged it yet.

“I mean, just look at us, Jay,” Melissa breathed. It sounded like she was as in awe of the comparison as I was, if not more. “Just a couple months ago we were basically the same height, maybe you were even taller than me,” she said, “And now, I’m so much bigger, so much taller, so much stronger than you.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered weakly, lapsing into the sullenness regret that I knew would spur her on into even greater indulgence.

“And now,” Melissa continued, taking the feed, her voice quickening, “I’ve gotta be twice your size, twice your weight. Wouldn’t you think? I mean, my thighs might weigh more than you. They’re thicker than your waist. My ass totally dwarfed you, and my breasts…”

At that, she pulled me tighter to her, using her left hand to press the side of my face and head into her left breast.

“…my breasts are bigger than your head, Jay.”

I groaned, losing my fight with the urge to just turn my face to the right, nuzzling my nose into her bra and the firm form of her enormous left breast, a swell of which was bare under her armpit. I closed my eyes, breathed her in, and mewed little words. The scent of her deodorant, the scent of her perfume, and the swell of her side tit had me absolutely enthralled. I’d thrown all caution and dignity to the wind and decided to become utterly obsequious to her breast.

“Oh my god, Jay…” she moaned, palming my head even more firmly into her, rotating her torso just a fraction so as to push more of her enormous breast into my face, “Wh-what are you doing…?”

My submissiveness was working, I was revving her up, and I felt myself responding in kind. As I nuzzled into her I fought the instinct to reach down and grab my stiffening rod, show her tribute by stroking myself to her. She would like that, I knew, but even I had enough self control to resist that urge. Instead, maybe I could get her to-

“Flex,” Melissa suddenly spoke, calling my attention to us again in the mirror. I’d opened my eyes, seeing myself hideously plastered into her left tit, and I met her heavy-lidded gaze with my own questioning one. What did she mean?

“Flex,” she repeated, her voice deep with arousal now, and as I felt the mass of her body alongside me seeming to gather itself for something, I immediately understood. To the best of my ability I did as she asked. Watching myself in the mirror, I curled my skinny left arm and flexed my bicep. I tensed my shoulders, stiffened my legs. The result was, yes, maybe you could now see through my pallid skin the meager framework of what muscles I had. It was pathetic, but it was me.

And then it was her turn.

Still with me nestled into her left breast, her left arm curled around me and holding me to her, Melissa began to flex. Not just the arm around me, not just the leg I felt alongside, the one I’d unconsciously started to straddle, but everything. I watched in the mirror, and felt all around me, as her musculature just swelled and grew, each muscle growing again to twice its size. Her shoulders ballooned, her lats flared. Her traps peaked and eclipsed her neck. Legs burgeoned, abs solidified. And all the while she watched me as I watched her, seeing me stare in rapt awe at the spectacle of a beautiful woman growing right in front of my eyes.

Melissa’s body had become superior in every way, to nearly every human on the planet. Her muscles were becoming bigger, her limbs were longer, thicker and stronger. Her breasts were freakishly huge and firm, hips and legs shapely beyond belief. Her body’s perfume was a powerful aphrodisiac, her hair grew like a god’s, and even her skin was smoother and tighter, with a healthier-looking sheen than any mere mortal I’d ever seen. But even beyond this, unbeknownst to me at the time, there were other things that were becoming plainly superhuman with Melissa. Her strength, already you’ve witnessed, was unnatural…but what we’ve seen so far, what she’d shown me, was at that point nothing compared to what she’d been able to do now in the secret gyms and labs in which she’d more-or-less been raised. Her lung capacity had grown to match or exceed even the most elite of the world’s athletes, her reflexes and coordination were becoming extraordinary. The list could go on - her immune system, the durability and density of her bones, the fucking strength of her fingernails, for god’s sake - and I don’t think even she realized what she was becoming. She still couldn’t add a simple column of figures, though, or alphabetize a stack of files. But physically she was becoming unparalleled, especially by someone who was becoming as…well…feeble as myself. It wasn’t that I was sickly or unhealthy per se, it was more that I just looked fantastically unimpressive in the mirror next to my accentuated and augmented new Office Manager, who was currently flexing every single fucking superhuman muscle she had to make me look like a twerp.

“It’s…it’s not even really close, is it?” chuckled Melissa, winking at our reflections and pulling my face more firmly into her massive bosom, “You and me?”

I mumbled something into her breast - I can’t recall what, now - and in the next moment she bent and I felt her pass her right arm behind my knees, her left coming to support my back, and I was scooped up into her arms. She looked down at me, and with a nod of her chin she directed my gaze back to the mirror where I was greeted by the sight of my girlfriend holding me in her arms like a small child. My head lolled, and I leaned back into her embrace, onto her strong left arm in an admission of my subduction. Her huge, beautiful smile beamed back at me, white and bright under the single light above us, as pleased as Punch at the figure we struck. “Look at us, honey,” she said, in fact, “It’s perfect.”

I had ended up in Melissa's arms again and - turned back up to my caretaker's beaming face, her brilliant white smile and her twinkling golden-green eyes - would have been content to stay there forever. She wrapped her embrace around me tightly, practically sandwiching my torso between her enormous breasts and spun me around in a circle, laughing a bit like a crazy lady. It made my stomach twirl and head spin, but before I could protest she’d plunged her mouth onto mine, parting my lips with her tongue. Waiting for my world to stop whirling I attempted to resist for a full half-second before I gave up and kissed her back. Well, Melissa did all the work, really. She made out with me passionately, squeezing my body into hers. She spun again, and again, as we kissed, overcome and overjoyed in the moment, but then after a particularly quick twirl-

oof!

She suddenly had me pinned up into the wall again, hands holding my by the shoulders, her face scant inches away from my own.. Thankfully, the paint behind me had dried. “Did you like this before?” she asked, a crooked smile full of mischief making my heart flutter.

“Oh god yes” I was just able to reply before she crushed me with another deep, soul-sucking kiss. My limbs stiffened  as - god lord - her tongue was once again nearly down my throat. I moaned into it, letting her know she could do anything she wanted with me.

She broke our kiss, though, after just a moment.

“I can’t wait to get even bigger for you,” she said in a low, lusty voice, consumed by a passion that seemed to be gathering more and more steam,. “It’s, like...oh my god...I just can’t wait.”

I throw any caution I still had to the wind. “I...can’t wait either,” I returned. I was so aroused that I was having difficulty breathing…plus my breath was caught in my chest because she had suddenly started massaging my torso, running her hands down my chest, holding me to the wall with the exertions of her affection.”I want you to get bigger too…” I further admitted.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, not quite believing what she was hearing, “I’m gonna do it…I’m gonna do it for you…”

“Jesus Melissa I can’t believe what you do to me already…”

“Yeah I can see…You’re so hard again...”

“Y-yeah...” I whispered back. It all seemed so crazy, and yet, somehow I could tell, to the both of us this moment had been a long time coming. I, at least, had just been too blindly proud, in my stereotypical thick male conceit to see it.

She kissed me again, and I seemingly had not a care in the world as I made out with this goddess of a woman. I didn't care that she was five, ten, fifteen, whatever years younger than me, that she worked for me, or that I was only recently divorced from a woman who would be hell-bent on ruining me if Melissa and I ended up together. At that moment she was my dream girl and exuded more raw sexuality than any woman I’d ever met. I was completely under her spell, and if she’d have me I was hers.

Now beyond any sense of reason - if you want to feel big, does this help? - I instinctively wrapped my legs around Melissa's waist, to get into an easier position and put my weight on her hips. This had the effect of making me seem to cling to her larger body, like a stripling. Of course, it also had the effect of pressing my crotch directly against her stomach.

She moaned, feeling me both hard up against her and my placing my smaller body on hers. “Oh god Jay yes let me carry you,” she sighed, kissing me and stepping away from the wall, sliding her arms behind me, under my bottom for support. She began to carry me around the room like that, me clutched to her body with thin legs wrapped around her lithe waist, her breasts ballooned voluptuously between us.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was gently bucking my hips against her. Melissa chuckled into our kiss, driving her tongue even deeper into my mouth again. She tightened herr embrace, essentially giving me the 'go-ahead' to keep doing what I was doing. She held me to her as she carried me around the room, each of us driving the other wild. She kissed me with abandon, but pulled back after a while to allow me air and speak to me.

"You know, I've…” she began; I could feel an unusual new trepidation in her voice, “I've done this a little before, as you can probably tell. Well, not like this haha but, y’know…”

“Yeah, I get it Melissa,” I said, my breath shallow, “y-you don’t have t-”

"But I never... I...I realize now that I didn't really like doing it until I met you,” she continued, a big smile now blooming on her face, gorgeous and earnest enough to melt my mind,  “and now I want to do it to you every waking minute! Some days it's all I think about!"

“oh god me too Melissa..!” I cried.

She groaned, and pulled me back to her mouth again, holding me to her like she never wanted to let me go. She kept doing that, driving me to the edge of madness with her kiss and the press of her breasts sandwiching themselves between us and covering nearly my entire torso, then gazing into me with such a lovestruck look and pouring out her heart to me.

“The only thing I can think about is turning you on,” she’d say.

"I want you every minute of the day," she’d repeat.

And finally:

"I love you more than anything," she admitted.

I stiffened, in her embrace, my eyes going wide.

She kissed my face, my cheeks, my nose and chin, my eyes and lips, in a frenzy of motion and emotion, and pulled my hips more firmly into her abdomen.

“You don’t have to say it back…” she said.

<smooch smooch smooch>

“…I know it’s really soon…”

<smooch smooch smooch>

“…and there’s a lot going on…”

<smooch smooch smooch>

“…but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“Melissa I-“

“Shh,” she stopped me, bringing a quick finger to my lips, “Not now, think on it. I just needed to tell you how I’ve been feeling.” She then took to kissing me again, first on my forehead, then down my face.

Thank god. For myself I couldn't think or move or focus on anything except those lips, those plushly exquisite lips, kissing my cheeks, my ears, moving all over my face and down my neck as she hoisted me higher in her arms, that and the rhythm I’d picked up, humping her waist.  Melissa had me bent backward by the irresistible force of her massive boobs, and I was hanging in her arms as she ravished my upper chest now with kisses, so insistent that all I could do was hang my arms back limply as I swam in the onslaught of her lips. .

She was tireless, never wavering, never slowing down in her urgent kissing, and her hands held me pressed into her, rubbing me against her strong abdomen, with these sexy little cries coming from her lips every so often as she kissed me, now back on my mouth.

“Oh god Jay I love you so much,” she gushed.

“J-jesus are you sure?” I stammered, caught in this hurricane of emotion that was Melissa Monroe, my new Office Manager. I was, I have to admit, a bit incredulous. Look at her, and then look at me. “I mean… “

“Shh!” she stopped me again, almost in a scold as she read my thoughts, "I don't want you to ever think you're not right for me, Jay." Her eyes searched deep into mine and she squeezed me into her boobs so hard I saw stars. "I love you as your funny, smart, friendly self, not someone worried about not being good enough, or rich enough,” she continued, “These last few months have been like heaven to me. I've never been treated so wonderfully by any guy - boyfriend, boss, whatever - and now that you're mine I never want to let you go-“

“Melissa I-“

“Please, Jay, let me keep going,” she said, earnestly, a wild look building in her eyes, “If you wanted to quit everything and move away together I would do it without a second thought. If you wanted me to drop to my knees and worship you from the moment I woke until I couldn't keep my eyes open, I would do it. Or I can be your Queen, if that’s what you want…”

“oh god Melissa, I-”

She was speaking more quickly now, right over me, her fervor building. “I would do anything for you, Jay. I want to be your perfect woman. I’d quit working out, or work out so hard I'd be a hundred times stronger than you. I’d make my breasts smaller, or grow them so big they’ll fill the room. I'd do it all. I'd do anything you wanted. All I want is for you to please please just let love me you and trust me. Don't worry about rich guys or bigger guys or any of that. They don't even exist to me."

“Melissa I…I don’t know what to say…” I offered. It was so overwhelming, and I felt both so confused and so on top of the world. This goddess was practically begging me to just be hers, and not worry about any of the stupid things I was so concerned about. Because what is there, really, but love?

“I told you, sweetie, you don’t have to say anything,” she repeated, once again looking into my eyes like she was trying to decipher me, a crazed, passionate intensity in her expression. “But, Jay,” she then asked me, “can you handle a girlfriend who's changing like me, with emotions like mine? I’m big, baby, and I’m only getting bigger.”

I looked into her face, overcome by the strength of her passions and seeing in her eyes the huge, cresting wave of her feelings and shaking with the thought of being swept away in her tsunami, taken into her ocean storm like fragile flotsam. Was I man enough to ride the wave out, surf her swells? God, I’ll stop with the wave metaphors but…yikes. You know what I mean?

What was my other option, though? To say no, pull away, be so cautious with my feelings and fragile frame that I’d rebuff her, tell Melissa that it was better for us to be apart? That way I could try to rebuild my life, my health, maybe start to repair my marriage. I…I knew what the reasonable, adult thing to do would be, and I knew already what my decision was.

“I want you, Melissa, I want all of you,” I said to her, “Get as big as you want - I can take it.”

At that, she basically exploded.

In a motion both smooth and violent, her hands slid up to grab me by the sides of my bony ribcage and I was lifted from her waist only to be <*SLAM!*> slammed onto my back onto my small kitchen table, which was right behind me. <*snAP!*> came from the tabletop below me, as she’d cracked the wood with my body.

As I regained my senses and, half-panicked, tried to sit, I felt her push me firmly back onto my back. I raised my head off the table to see what she was doing next. I followed her eyes to my own erection, which now stood once again huge and monstrous, rising up from my bony hips. Being manhandled by my girlfriend like this had thrown fuel on my excitement, and though I’d climaxed just a short while ago there was no denying how ready I was for her again. I felt the adrenaline of fear and arousal pump into my system as I watched her. Standing over me, towering between my outstretched legs in her pumped-up glory, her phenomenal musculature shadowed strikingly in the dim light, she looked down at me like a woman possessed. Her huge breasts heaved with each deep, mighty breath she drew as she looked down at me like a conqueror with their spoils. She’d grabbed my ankles and spread my legs.

“Did you like the movie?” she asked me, plainly.

“W-wh-whu-what?” I stammered, voice quivering, suddenly confused.

“Did you like ‘She-Hulk’?” she clarified, speaking more slowly, more evenly now, but still with the eyes of a woman of the wild, like someone unhinged. Her ardor and passion burned behind her eyes like flames inside two arcane gems. “The movie we just watched last night?”

“What? I-i-I uh…” I continued, still confused. I’d slept through most of it, but-

“You love the she hulks I can tell,” she said, cutting me off, raising my ankles now off the table in her hands, spread-eagled up high into the air. Suddenly I felt more exposed and vulnerable than I’d ever been, before her and her immeasurable strength and manic passion. My legs were spread nearly as wide as they could possibly stretch, and all my intimates were laid bare. She looked down at me, her mouth dropping open, my cock responding to the sight with a surge of new vigor. I felt like, as she held me like that, that she could snap me like a wishbone.

And then she started to flex.

“I’ll give you the fucking She-Hulk,“ she then growled, pulling my ankles up and towards her, doing a modified double-biceps pose while holding me akimbo. And then, with a deeply primal <*ROAR!*> of feminine rage, I watched as she suddenly redoubled again in size, muscles flaring all over her body, her frame quaking with the effort and the room around us shivering. My eyes watered, I turned my face away from the sonic assault, and if plaster began to fall from the ceiling or the windows exploded outwards from her impassioned fury I would not have been surprised.

As she continued to completely control me, she began to get even more aroused and her muscles continued to grow, every muscle in her body bulging. Her back arched and

it seemed that each muscle in her massive body was at least twice its normal size. My rear had been lifted off the table in the meantime, lofted into the air, and my cock waved wildly between my legs. Her eyes went once again to it and she became focused, like a laser, upon it.

<*SLAM!*> I was back on the table, my ankles still held aloft in her hands, and now her head was buried between my legs. Like a serpent dragoness she had struck, and impaled herself upon my already throbbing member. I was sunk down deep into her throat and I felt her lips and mouth and teeth spread wide and clamp themselves around my entire scrotum. She could have torn me out by the root with a single, fierce toss of her head, but instead she took to sucking on me, pushing my ankles back towards my head so my knees came closer and closer to me. This was an amazon-position blowjob if there ever was one, and I watched the mighty arms of my own personal Amazon Queen flex and ripple, surging and swelling as they held my legs up and my back down, helpless.

“oh god…!” I cried, “oh god oh god oh god!” My pleas, my whimpers and moans only spurred her on to greater brute force, and at a point I felt my legs might be torn out at the hip. But the pleasure was unearthly and my orgasm was imminent, and as I threw my head back I knew what she really wanted to hear. “H-how t-tall are you?” I asked, in a voice labored and cracked.

“I’m six-foot five, two-hundred and twenty pounds,” she snarled in a deep thunder, raising her face from my crotch for just the mere moment it took to answer before diving back onto me again.

In answer I craned my neck back, tilting my face to the ceiling and clamping my eyes shut as I prepared myself to be destroyed by my climax. “a-and how tall am I?” I retorted, whining, whining whining.

“You’re fucking tiny,” she told me, and I exploded in her mouth.

======================================================

big credit to Anuar at  https://artaibyanuartoraigyrov.tumblr.com for the original AI image, before my rework. And once again I have to tip my hat to authors, particularly Pac, whose style I am absolutely stealing here along with some blatant passages and lines of dialogue.