tiny

r | sexual content

She felt tiny.

Not short; that was a fact of nature. Tiny. Irrationally tiny.

Everything else was too big. His room, his bed. His legs, underneath her. His back. His back, slick with sweat, and her tiny hands clutching on to him. She arched her own back, curved her neck, trying to stretch herself out.

But then his fingers were - God. Too big. Not painful, uncomfortable. And some of that must have come across when she moaned, because then he wasn't touching her anymore. She opened her eyes as he grasped her hips and lifted her off him. His sheets were soft against her back - softer than hers - and then he was leaning over her. The bed was huge and he was huge and she wasn't scared, just overwhelmed.

He touched her neck, kissed his way down her jawline. Cupped a breast and murmured something in her ear, something she couldn't make out. She touched him - his side, his hip - and he gave up her name. A fragment of her first sandwiched in between the halves of her last, as if he couldn't decide whether or not this act granted him permission to use her given name liberally.

She was ready, but he was still taking his time. It took most of her strength, but she managed to flip him over. He squirmed beneath her and she pinned him down, knowing if he really was uncomfortable, he could easily get out of the position.

"No, no, this is - this is fine. This is fine. I just - "

She eased up, released him. He propped pillows up against the headboard and inched backwards, pulling her with him. She was still on top, but now with him sitting up, they were face-to-face.

"Okay?"

She nodded as she reached between them, began to lower herself onto him. He wasn't really that large in proportion to the rest of his body, but compared to her - too much, too much. She had to stop, backtrack, go again, lather, rinse, repeat, and then she was full, too full, there was more, but she couldn't take it. Her forehead on his shoulder, his hands on her back, her hips, up, down, up, down.

His breathing was ragged, his grunts desperate, but she wasn't there, wasn't close. When she started to pinch her clit, he leaned back; she saw him glance down between them and that was it. She stopped rocking her hips as he emptied into her, fingers moving more quickly, there, there, there, and she spasmed around him.

Her body seemed to fold in on itself; her toes curled and her head fell back down to his shoulder, her back curving in. There was pleasant warmth spreading though her body, but his arms were enveloping her while her hands barely seemed to take up any room on his back and he was still inside her, smaller now, but still stretching her, and she never felt so tiny, tiny, tiny -

He whispered her name and she lifted her head, met his eyes. They were wide, so wide, and he cupped her face, staring at her as if he had the entire universe in his hands.

- and the feeling began to dissipate.

(fin.)