Tags: sex, insertion, soft vore, etc etc etc

The title used for this chapter is the name of the tune (the one by Disclosure ft Sam Smith) that was the primary fuel for this tale, and is still one of my alltime favorites. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 10 **Latch**

The little man took a couple of tentative steps in the direction of his love. The lights had dimmed, giving the room a soft ambiance that drew out comfort. Moonlight streaming in from behind the closed silk blinds. A song played on her phone connected to the speakers, one of her favorites, he remembered. Before him was the impossibly tall woman, one he cared for deeply and in ways appreciated by him alone, presenting herself to him for the very first time. She had taken off her lacey black panties and sat in front of him, her legs and feet stretched out before her. He marveled at the great walls of smooth skin surrounding him, seeing the minute shifts of muscle that rippled as Darcy wiggled her feet or toes in excited anticipation. At the end of the soft corridor was her sex, a set of warm lips that beckoned him to come forward, inviting him to come and see, and worship at the altar. Even from this far a distance, she saw her already wet with anticipation. Her fragrance, the natural and heady musk that women had was in the air, enticing and arousing, calling the wild from within.
As he walked, he reached out and lighted a finger along Darcy’s leg, sending a titter through the girl. He looked up and saw that she had her eyes closed, but her wide smile told him all he needed to know. He kneaded the soft skin further, eliciting a sharp breath from above.
“Oh…” a purr from above. Andrew looked up and saw her biting her lip. “that feels wonderful…” she looked down at him through a smile, “but won’t you keep going?” He didn’t need to be told twice. Still sliding his finger along, the little man leisurely sauntered forward, his head spinning from the marvelous scent of woman.
In anticipation of his arrival, Darcy slipped a hand up her leg to her crotch, lightly brushing her sex. Her finger reached down and slid up the opening between her labia, showing the bright pink insides that glistened with wetness, slick in anticipation of what was to come. Andrew continued forward on the bed, dragging his finger along the skin. The bed was soft, spongy, but he somehow managed to keep his footholds, never stumbling or breaking contact.


“Come on over, little guy.” She bit her lip, suppressing a tremor that crept through her, her mind awash with pleasure, the flood of endorphins that rushed through her.
Andrew drank deeply the air then. This was happening. It was really happening. He felt himself stiffen, both his neck and his member. It was a stomach pit of wonderful mixture- excitement, nervousness, eagerness. He found himself almost jogging to her, to his woman, and treasure that lay before him.
The waiting prize at the end of the corridor was only a bit shorter than him from tip to tip, and was robed by a truss of curly black hair, the very same that adorned her head. Crowning her womanhood was her clitoris, erect in anticipation and glimmering wet. Andrew’s heart pounded so fast he thought it might burst from out his chest. He couldn’t believe this was happening, but he was even more ecstatic about it happening with this girl. This felt… natural, to him. Like it was the best thing that could possibly happen, was meant to happen, what he had always wanted to happen. He couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot.
“Well,” Darcy’s soft voice tittered high above, “someone seems pretty excited…” She smiled at him and giggled.
“What can I say?” he retorted. “I can’t keep the grin off my face.”
She chuckled. “yeah, and you can’t stop smiling down there, either.” She took her free hand and made a motion with her finger. ‘Look down there, big boy,’ was the unspoken hint. He looked down, unsurprised to see himself engorged. What can I say, he thought. I’m only a guy, after all, tiny or not.
He continued his walk and slowed down the pace as he arrived to the soft folds of skin that comprised Darcy’s sex.
Darcy’s hand had moved back down to her crux and in front of Andrew. She gave Andrew a playful poke in his stomach and smiled at him.
“Hey there, little pal.” She shivered and ran her finger to split her labia again. “You like what you see?”
Andrew remembered nodding as maybe saying something as he reached out with both hands and softly gripped both lips softly. The woman shuddered wildly, inhaling with sharp breaths and a sharper smile on her other set of lips.
She moaned softly as he redoubled his grasp, sliding his hands up and down the silken skin and making her quiver.
“Oh Drew…” Came the distant warble from somewhere above.
He stuck his hands deeper inside her, eliciting another shake snaking through her. His fingers played up and down the wet inside, with each passing moment becoming more lubricated. She responded in kind, making the bed tremble as she struggled to keep her legs in a position that would not crush her little lover.
He leaned over and kissed the crowning fold of skin atop Darcy’s sex, and he saw her chew raggedly on her lip above her.
“Oh my god… Andrew…” Her voice lilting ever so slightly into another falsetto gasp.
Darcy reached down a hand and began to stroke Andrew along the back, pressing him forward ever so slightly. His body run up against her labia, engulfing him in her folds and dousing him in the wet discharge. The heady aroma became more heady still.
He went in to his shoulders, sticking his hands and arms deep into the surprisingly warm opening- he wagged and waved them rhythmically, sometimes at odds with one another, stroking and pressing and pulling and rubbing. The thought passed his kind briefly, that it was like  running yours hands across a wet silken sheet- but so much more the warm.
On a whim, he enfolded the piece of wet flesh, her clitoris, her crown jewel, into his mouth. Even at this size, it wasn’t too hard a task. He worked his tongue across and around it, writing his name like he always did when performing such an act.



Darcy shook, a soft moan and contented sigh issuing from her lips. She seemed to be enjoying this newfound attention to her little bean.
Pleased with the results, Andrew found his rhythm then, massaging and sucking. He used his tongue masterfully, and, unbeknownst to him, giving his new girlfriend quite possibly the best cunnilingus of her life. A thought, more a dare, in fact, popped into his head- he began to bite softy into it. It was not much at the first- barely a nibble. Darcy yelped and laughed, her voice lilting across the room. That worked, didn’t it, his little experiment?


He again found his rhythm, his groove- Bite, knead, suck. Bite, knead, suck. As he did so, some of the natural wetness spilled into his mouth- she was… slightly salty. Sour.


She was delicious, he realized, then finding it funny- the little man was eating the giant. He then thought, with a bit more than embarrassing relief, that she wasn’t in fact eating him. Not that she would… Right? Right. Trying to take his kind off such strange thoughts, he again poured into his work. Bite, knead, suck. And, occasionally, slurp.
He found, in a brief moment of clarity during his oral sexery, that he felt wonderfully… Comfortable. At home. It had never occurred to him that sex with a person several dozen times your height and many more times your weight would be a whole different dynamic, and by God it should have been- but here, despite that ‘should have,’ he felt in his element. On his own turf, so to speak. Like he wouldn’t turn into paste between Darcy’s magnificent thighs because she was far too careful. He’d had many partners prior to this, more than he could reasonably remember- but here it was familiar. Again, it felt so natural to him- Darcy was home.
A yelp above shocked him out of his reverie. He unlatched his mouth from her clitoris and looked up at her slightly concerned. He found, to his relief and delight, that she was smiling very widely, and looking down at him with some kind of mix of adoration and wanton lust. She cocked an eyebrow down at him and grinned.
“You keep surprising me tonight, big guy…”
Her hand ceased to caress his back and instead plucked between her index and thumb. She brought him to her face and kissed him tenderly, her lipstick starting to run. It left a slight smudge on his chest.
“Oh,” she giggled, rubbing her thumb of his chest, “sorry about that…”
He shook his head and smiled at her.
“It’ll wash off.” And then, impishly grinning, “Unlike those stains you left on the couch.”
She moaned as rolled her eyes at him.
“Oh, come on,” she lamented at him, “that was a year ago. And those stains came off…” She bit her lip, embarrassed. “…mostly.” She smiled sheepishly as Andrew held up his arms play-reproachfully.
She kissed him again and swallowed.
“So mean, making a girl anxious like that in a first date.” She flipped him over and held him by the two legs. Andrew noted, with much relief and a bit of a chuckle, that Darcy held her other hand below him to catch him, lest he fall or her grip fail.
“Someone ought to teach you a lesson.”
She poked her tongue out and gave Andrew a playful brush across his face. He held out his arms and hands to push against the wagging tongue, but it only got his arms and hands wet in the process.
She smooched him on the face once again and then flipped him over once more, holding him again in her hand.
“And I think I know just the punishment.”
She held him above her head and lowered him to her mouth. She slightly opened her wide red lips but then closed them again. She flattened her mouth, and then, with a swallow going down her throat, she purred at him softly,
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not,” came the reply, not entirely convincing in its tone.
She seemed satisfied as she stuck out her tongue again and lowered him onto it, setting his legs on either side of the writhing muscle. He straddled her tongue, like a bullrider on his first attempt. Andrew looked into her eye with a confused visage until it dawned on him, a wide grin passing over his face.
Darcy, with Andrew still sitting on her tongue, began to push her tongue up and down, down and up, the massive muscle fondling and manipulating Andrew’s genitals. A soft breath drew into Andrew, and he gasped. With the tenderness of a longtime lover, and a sweetness that she had never maybe felt before, she massaged him gently, occasionally breathing and letting her exhale wash over him like the tide. She, through the machinations and mechanics of her tongue, felt him stiffen, and she was pleased- with him, with herself, with the now.
She drew him in, her lips wrapping around him at his waist, as tickling his feet with her tongue. Then, pulling him out, she held him between her face and bare her teeth at him.
“Darcy… You make-gaahh!”
His praise was cut off by a wild shiver that shot through his body like cold water down a bare back on a hot summer’s day. She had pursed her  mouth, he found, and was blowing on him.
She laughed as he shivered.
“So,” he stammered, “c-c-cold. So m-m-m-mean.”
She wrapped both her hands around him and held him to her breast. A gesture that didn’t make raise his temperature so much as provide comfort.
“I know, I know… But that’ll teach you to tease me like that, huh?” She saw him peer up at him and offer a warm smile. She was comforted by the idea that he wasn’t afraid or that he understood. She also noted, with utter and toe curling delight, that his new size had given him a maybe more humble perspective- he was tiny, and he knew it. More so, he acted as though Darcy was not only his lover but his mountain, and his all, as well.
Again, that bigness. That feeling of potential and wonder. Gigantic.
She was his giantess, she knew, and he was her little man.
She withdrew him and gave him a little peck.
“I know a good way to warm you up,”


“As long as it doesn’t involve your mouth.”



“Hush, you.”
She lowered him back down to her still wet, still ready pussy. They both moaned as she pressed him against the soft folds, his penis erecting despite the cruel and cold jape she had put him through. Even considerably reduced, Darcy thought she felt him penetrate her. Or maybe it was her imagination. But to her, did it really matter?
She was happy, and she thought he was too.
She closed her eyes and felt him there, working to please her and get his body warmed up. With her eyes closed, she felt that the ever sensitive nerve endings down there could pick up more tactile and minute movements, be it hands, fingers, penis, or, dare she hope, tongue and mouth.
She felt him rhythmically work there, enjoying the ride she was getting. But, she realized, that it had suddenly stopped. Maybe he tuckered out- disappointing, considering she was only halfway to what would no doubt be a glorious and singularly spectacular orgasm. Maybe, she thought, more worryingly, he got lost. Or caught. And, as she might’ve known, a guy no smaller than your thumb could easily get into a whole mess of trouble between the thighs of a woman much bigger than him.
She had just opened her eyes when she felt two hands grab hold not softly her outer labia, followed by an object thrusting suddenly deep into her womanhood.
To say she was surprised would be… An understatement, much in the same way that saying a world war was at most a minor cultural disagreement is an understatement.
She had never felt anything so simultaneously shocking, pleasurable, awkward, delightful, and surreal as she had feeling Andrew literally jump feet first into her vagina.
She yelped and moaned and blushed and gasped all at once, and her fingers dug so far into the bedsheets she may as well have ripped them.
“Andrew… J… J-J-Jesus… What… Ohhh!”
A minor shift in his feet caused her to curl her toes and writhe her legs, stopping effectively any statement of reproach or praise (she hadn’t decided which it would be) she might have been forming.
“Sorry,” came the unsorry apology from Andrew. “Couldn’t resist.”
She finally got the wherewithal to look down and spy just what her little lover was doing- his face, etched with a grin usually reserved for rascals who had just raided the cookie jar, was sitting atop a chest that just barely poked out of her sex, anchored by two arms that prevented him from entering any further.



She grimaced slightly, gritting her teeth.



“Andrew… this is too weird, man…. Mmmm.”



He nodded, shifting slightly- a shudder ran down her spine, despite herself. He cracked a smile then, realizing just what exactly he had done then. He wiggled his foot again, deep inside her recesses. Again that shiver.



“Drew…?” she offered, starting her hand down but then clenching her fist and biting her lip- she couldn’t decide, he realized. She grinned sheepishly at him, almost like she was ashamed of enjoying it so much.



“Stop tha… oh…”



She melted as she felt him twist and turn inside of her. He turned round and round then, torqueing himself with all his upper body strength that he could muster. It was a strange sensation, feeling the pleated skin inside, slick, wet, and comfortably warm. How it caressed his skin softly, how the slightest touch could make Darcy move and shake and croon like some blushing virgin. More discharge fell into his mouth, but he didn’t mind the heady scent, or the sour taste. Or was it basic? He couldn’t tell. But, all the same. He loved it.



“Andrew… oh, my god, Andrew…”



He slowed down his little spin cycle, instead turning up to her and watching her. She kneaded her breast lovingly with one hand and was reaching down with the other. Without ado, she plucked him up with fore and thumb, pulling him up and out with a wet popping noise and a sharp inhale- the rush of cool air entering her. She brought him, once more up to her face and planted a large kiss smack dab onto his chest. She licked him from his crotch up to his chest, redoubling the erection he maintained and slightly diluting the lubricant that wet her sex.



“I,” she said with a smile, “I want to try something. Hold on tight.”



He did so, and was glad he did- she lifted him high into the air and wrapped her fingers around him. He watched as she turned round on the bed, arching her back like a cat and getting into position. She then, pressing up on one arm, held him before her face.
“I’m going to put you inside like…” she blushed, her eyes fluttering to behind her, indicating her now outstuck rear, “like… y’know…”
Andrew nodded.
“Is… is that okay? Can I do that?”
Andrew nodded again, but decided to vocally speak out as well, if not to just ease her mind.
“Yeah. Let’s do it.”
Darcy grinned at him, and then, with a small kiss, she slid him in hand under her breasts, stomach, and up to her waiting womanhood once again. She then lay her front end down, splaying her breasts and setting one arm in front of her, all the while resting on her knees. Andrew recognized the form she was attempting, even from his underbelly position- back entrance. The manner of dogs. Coitus more ferarum.
With lithe fingers, she navigated him and flipped him over, and he straightened into position. With a deep breath, she slid him into, once again, the wet and wild place. Andrew, after a brainwave, clenched his legs together and tried to make as straight a rod possible. He was greeted by warm flesh enveloping his feet, legs, then hips and finally chest. It was slick, it was warm. It was better than anything, he found.



The rhythm was slow at first- testing the waters. No doubt, she was concerned for his safety during this new and exciting method. Slowly, but ever so building confidence, Darcy became faster, more consistent in her penetration. With the new speed came the sharper, more desperate breathes that accompanied approaching climax. In. Out. In. Out.
Andrew, as well as he could, reached his own sex and began to stroke. It wasn’t perfect, but the feeling was outside the realm of normal and very pleasurable.
In. Out.
More than once, Darcy had let him slip inside past his head. She did this by gripping him by his chest and back and let him slide in very deeply. It was during those times that Andrew had the hardest time pleasuring himself. But, in consolation, he found that if he thrust his hips out just slightly, his head would rub against the vaginal wall.
In. Out. Keeping out.
He opened his eyes, lost in the feel of it all, and saw Darcy not an inch (to him, not her) from his face.
“Pull my hair, will you?” she half asked, half demanded. A kiss planted on his body, a tongue flicking across his skin. Andrew could only blink, dumbstruck.
Her eyes slowly opened, and then she passed across her face a look of sudden realization. She… had misunderstood, instinct had taken over her- she realized that her lover wasn’t exactly in that position that normally necessitated that body placement.
“Wait, uh, shit… nevermind. Forget I said that…”
She reached back down and continued.
In. Out. In. Out.
Haggard breathing.
He continued stroke himself when suddenly Darcy’s vaginal muscles clamped tightly around him.



“Oh, oh,”
Darcy herself found her breath being caught inside of her- the repeated act of in, out, pressing him against herself and sliding him across her clitoris had finally triggered that glorious feeling of cresting and going past the event horizon of orgasm, that event potential that released floods of serotonin and dopamine. She had felt it begin when he was inside of her, her muscles closing tightly around him. Concerned for his safety, but also wanting more, Darcy slowly slid him out and brushed her button one last time. The act sent explosive waves of neurotransmitters rippling through her womanhood, spine, and brain.
She gasped, a happy, very fulfilled gasp, rasping and she grit her teeth as she rode the sensation higher and higher. Despite what she had ever felt, what she had learned about her climax, this one persisted, endured, far longer than any she had ever felt before. Ever higher she rode the wave, even starting to shiver, to shake even, shutting her legs in a vice. Even Andrew, safely enclosed in her hand below her stomach, was squeezed a little too firmly for comfort.


“Oh, oh, oooooohhhhh my gooood, Andrewwwww!”
Finally, mercifully and happily, she reached the peak and began the leisurely descent back, her mind blanking to the white hot like it never had before. How long had that lasted? One second? One year? She did not know. All she knew then, as she fluttered back down on a cloud, her mind awash in the pleasure that was orgasm, was that she wanted very much to kiss the man who had given it to her.
She brought him, still quivering and her legs turned to jelly, up to her placid and serene face.
“You, little man…” She pressed him to her lips, squeezing his body in a warm and loving embrace, the heat washing off of her and onto him.
“You… Have… Me… Like rocked…” She raspberried her lips in exasperation at him. She got onto her knees, sitting on her feet. Her legs still felt like they wouldn’t be usable had she tried to stand up on the floor. “See what you do to me?”


Andrew wore a bigger sized self-satisfied smile than was probably warranted. Darcy let it slide, her brain being scrambled too much anyhow to think of a coherent retort.
“I rock you so hard that you can’t even speak?” Andrew offered with probably a little too smug of a shit-eating grin.
“Yuh-huh.” She smiled at him, brushing a stray lock of curly black hair that found its way into her eyes. “Eeeeeexactly, little guy.” She then, a smirk passing across her lips, took him by the legs and held him upside down. The motion took Andrew by surprise, and he yelped aloud as she did so. His arms hung limp below his head, and he gave up after a few tries of lifting himself up to grip onto Darcy’s thumb or forefinger.


“But don’t you dare think,” she began, bring him close to her face and letting her tongue pat his head from below, “that I’m done with you. You’re not the only one who can make someone else like putty in their hands…”


With a laugh, she hung him above her head and lowered him into her cavernous mouth, closing her lips around his ankles. She pulled him out then, slowly, her muscles and lips and tongue wiping across him as he emerged from out of the mouth.


“Mmmm…” she moaned, laying him then her in her hand. She brought him close to her face, and blew softly from pursed lips- he stiffened, the sudden chill shooting through Andrew like lightning. But, Darcy saw, he was all smiles. She kissed him again up and down, engulfing him in a shower of lips and small suctions, pulling his body slightly up off the hand each time. It was irresistible, doing this.


For good measure, she dragged her tongue around his arms and legs and chest, his chest, and even between his legs.


She noticed, with no small delight, that his member was still erect, standing there high and proud like it was on display. She gave him a grin as she spied and then flicked it softly with her tongue. She realized that he probably hadn’t released yet… how sad.


I ought to change that, she told herself, shivering anticipatorily at the prospect.


“Hey Andrew…”


He looked at her, completely intoxicated by the love she was giving him. She narrowed her eyes and smirked at him.


“Did I ever show you that thing I could do with cherry stems?”


She didn’t wait for an answer- her head lowered and his waist was completely enveloped by a pair of soft red lips. He felt those lips close on him, narrowing their scope and wrapping around one particular part of him. He felt the tongue, lithe like her fingers, dexterously navigate up his inner thighs and under his testicles, fondling them up and passing up and up until they stopped and she continued up his shaft.


He moaned, his hands reaching out and touching Darcy on the face, trying desperately to not claw marks into her skin. He grabbed, instead, her upper lip, again, not too hard. She did so again, and he felt himself stiffen even further, harder than he had ever been in his entire life. Her tongue moved then, far more deftly than any tongue had a right to be (though Andrew would be the last to complain, like, ever)- she had cupped, twirled, smooched, fondled, played with, nibbled at, and even caressed his balls and penis like no other had ever done so.


He bit his lip, almost reverentially. He got lost in that oral pleasure, her tongue caressing him back and forth, up and down, occasionally feeling the rush of air pass by him was she breathed. Slowly, but ever so surely, he felt himself begin to build up. It was unmistakable. As he did, he tightened his grip on her lips, clench his glutes, curled and wiggled his toes. He began to inhale sharply, just as Darcy had, feeling the heavenly crest just round the corner. Higher and higher he flew on his own cloud.


Just before he came, right before the plateau, he tapped Darcy on the lip- surely she could stop now, the work was done.


“Darcy, Dar, jesu—fffuck, Darcy. Let go…” he clenched his lip between his teeth and almost drew blood.


He felt her smile and saw those big, beautiful, brown pools of love look up at him. He perceived, he thought, a shake of her head.


“Mm-mm!” she hummed, refusing his request. The vibration was too much; it sent ripples throughout his body, but moreso through his sex organs- the vibration was beyond pleasurable, and he finally released his load.


“Aaa…. Oh god…” he sharply gasped, biting his lip in pure ecstasy. His breathing became rapid and shallow, and he gritted his teeth and smiled. His seed shot out in a stream of brilliant white past Darcy’s lips and deposited right at the center of her tongue, the nerve-endings there suddenly detecting salt.


His body shook, finally reaching the apex of his climactic orgasm and he finally released the tension of all his muscles firing at once and relaxed. He unarched his back and lay down flat in Darcy’s soft hand, his penis drooping already to one side and covered in the afters his explosive load.


Darcy herself removed her lips from her side and smiled down on him, swallowing the load whole down to her stomach. Andrew thought he saw the lump in her throat move down and down, but he couldn’t be sure.


There part of me goes, he mused.


Darcy watched with amusement as Andrew ran his hands down his face, utterly spent.


“Mmm,” she began, prompting Andrew to look up with one eye up at her. She licked her lips when she knew he was watching. “You really do taste good, you know…”


She heard Andrew chuckle at that.


“Well,” he croaked out, softly, “you are welcome at Buffet Andrew anytime you damn well please, darlin’…”


That made her laugh, and she flipped over and plopped down on her bed, laying down. She set Andrew on her stomach, who simply collapsed on her belly and moaned. She sighed contentedly.


This is perfect, she thought. A girl could get used to this.


Her finger reached up and began to stroke Andrew on the back, eliciting soft breath release from the tiny man under her finger. After what seemed not fifteen seconds, he began to snore softly.


Her heart melted. She loved it. She knew it. She knew that this was the right choice that she had made. Any doubt she may have had was suddenly erased from her mind. She knew, she realized, that she could grow to love this man on her stomach, this little man who had so much love in his heart and who gave everything he had to her- he gave so much, and for it, she adored him.


She began, she thought, to see the seed of love blossom between them. Not just carnality, the wonderful biblical knowledge they had just learned of each other… but real love. Tender feelings. Deep and resounding affection.


There would be challenges, she knew- real ones. Dynamics, logistics. Physical danger. Maybe even social challenges. The most pressing, she knew, arriving very soon- tomorrow, actually. She glanced at the clock, the red phosphor lights read 11:34 P.M. In short eight hours, they knew they’d have to deal with the social worker coming to pick up someone who they thought was coming with them.


She knew, or rather probably guessed, that Andrew could whip up something real quick that would negate the forms he signed in the clinic during his check up. She really… wasn’t worried. Diminished people had the same basic rights, she knew, she learned from the recent court cases. Surely, they’d find away. If there were boundaries, they could knock them down.


She reached over to her phone, and pressed a few quick buttons in quick succession. An alarm was set, for an hour or two. Setting the phone right back down on the nightstand, she looked down at the man on her tummy. Her hand, perhaps in part predatory, part maternal instinct, reached over him and covered him like a warm blanket of flesh. She felt his body move up and down ever so imperceptibly with his respiration. He was warm to the touch, she found delighted.


“Amazing. All this time, little guy…” She smiled softly and lay her head back, closing her eyes.


“You’ve been right under my nose.”


She eventually drifted off to a peaceful sleep, and dreamed wonderful dreams.