Giant Solidarity G/T

Chapter XLIX. Cheesecake

*Sexual content*

"Tell you what," whispered Rey sensuously, her breath tickling my neck hairs, smelling like spearmint from her mouthwash. "Go out to the kitchen and get the whipped cream." She teasingly licked the tip of my nose. "By the time you come back, you'll have a little sweet blondie waiting in the bed." As soon as she suggested the whipped cream, I was at full salute in my loose-fitting PJ bottoms. Walking out of the bedroom, nonchalantly keeping the tubular bulge flush with my thigh was difficult.

Doing some recon, I peeked into the living room, toward Larry's cushiony cat bed. Our cat was curled up in a snug ball, his flank rising and falling, in the fashion meaning he was asleep. As I tiptoed down the hallway passed the couch, I heard Alma's very light snoring and saw her little spindly arms embracing Larry's fluffy tail, like she nuzzled a comically massive stuffed animal won at the fairgrounds. Certain that the coast was clear now, I strolled into the kitchen, bestriding every creaky floorboard and collected the can of whipped cream and half empty squeeze-bottle of chocolate sauce from the refrigerator. Months earlier, while Reagan and I were getting frisky in bed, I commented that her nipples tasted sweet. Since then, one of our favorite sexual exploits was for her to be tiny and me to treat her like a tasty dessert. Having the condiments in my hands, it took restraint for me to run eagerly back into the bedroom for our passionate throes.

As she promised, when I returned to the dim bedroom, Rey's typical seventy-seven-foot frame was no longer splayed on the mattress. Her giantess T-shirt and booty-shorts lay discarded on the carpeted floor. Instead, I was greeted by what appeared to be an excited little nude pixie, with her hair down, sitting in the creases of the bedsheets like a sparrow on a nest. Immediately, I locked the door behind me, which was as absurd as a Billy Ballbuster cartoon, considering there was no way Alma could reach the doorknob and Larry lacked thumbs. In hindsight, Alma was thin enough to squeeze under our bedroom door, if she were so inclined. However, now I had very specific tunnel-vision, transfixed on my miniscule, naked blonde girlfriend. At the bedside, I dropped my pajama pants, hastily as if they were causing me unbearable duress.

"You could've put the chocolate sauce and whipped cream down on the bed before taking your pants off," tiny Reagan kidded me with giddy high-pitched laughter, after witnessing me fumbling with my pants, with my hands full, like a juggling pantomime.

"Don't mouth off to me, or I'll eat you!" I said, with a smirk and wink, laying sideways on the bed. "Well, I'm going to anyway. Cut me some slack though, I'm horny!"

Rey smiled frenziedly and scampered up from the bedspread to my pelvic bone, the size of a canyon wall to her. "What does sweet tooth fancy this evening?" she asked, seductively plopping her shapely nectarine-like rump on my pubes. Featherweight of her body provided just enough pressure to crank up my erection behind her further. "I see you brought chocolate syrup, yummy. Are you having a Rey sundae tonight?" She compressed her little raspberry-sized breasts together, cupping and squeezing them.

"Well, you know I love Rey sundaes," I said, running my mastlike finger around her finite curvy body on my waist. "But, I think you'll be a creamy piece of cheesecake tonight, with those little berry boobs." I ran the tip of my tongue across my upper lip. Not wasting another second, I lifted the bottle of chocolate sauce, half gone from the chocolate milk Rey made herself and Alma a few days before. I dabbed a drizzle of the dense brown goo over her little shoulders and into her cleavage. It oozed down her belly onto her thighs.

"Cheesecake, huh?" little Rey said, giggling from the chilliness of the refrigerated chocolate. "Babe, I know I haven't been in the sun much lately, but I'm not that pale." Wrinkling her nose, she scooped a sloppy handful of the oozy chocolate rubbed it between her thighs, a mouthwatering gesture.