Welcome back! I’m seriously proud of my writing in my next installment of this gentle erotic love story between two sizeshifters at a coffeeshop. They decide to tease and dare each other not to grow while in public. They’re just friends, haha… unless~
This began as a Kinky Scribble, but I found myself so enamored with the characters and the way they were enamored with each other, that I allowed myself the luxury of months to write and explore. To go more in depth, you know. (Pun intended.)
I was so excited to write this story that I sought out Girl Sex 101 by Allison Moon and K.D. Diamond to better understand and write about the way women have sex. I may have been in more than one relationship with other women, but I also have an inkling of just how much I don’t know. I keep meaning to start blogging my book reviews, but if you’re interested, I kept up a twitter thread with my thoughts on the book and its value to anyone who wants to have sex with women. I found the “Embodied Yes” and “Difficult Conversation Formula” sections especially useful. The pages on techniques for hand sex and oral sex with different kinds of bodies are definitely dog-eared and already well-loved in my house. It’s such a wonderful resource!
I commissioned art for this story by the lovely LadyEgg. Isn’t it gorgeous and so sweet? As of this writing on November 9th, her comms are still open, so please go support her if you are able! She is lovely to work with, and has been so kind and patient with me on not releasing the art for the five months it took me to finish rewrites and edits. Here’s a closeup to enjoy.
I also commissioned a sensitivity read with Ana Valens, a reporter and member of the size kink community. She gave me feedback and additional insight on my pairing between a cisgender woman and a transgender woman. I’m pleased to report that she said it was “incredibly hot and well written,” and that she “utterly adored it.” I’m grateful for her suggested changes and nuance on experiences that hopefully made this story stronger and more true to life for trans women.
When I asked her thoughts on tags for this and for my latest article, “Content Tags: Accessibility, Edgeplay, & Surprise Sex,” she recommended I use either F/f or CF/tf in my gender tags. Though TF is also used for transformation kink, we decided that having it in the slash format would clear that up, and she pointed out that TF is commonly used at places like r/GoneWildAudio and r/GWASapphic. As of this writing, Ana is open for more sensitivity readings on: kinky relationships, lesbian relationships, trans women & trans feminine experiences, and queer friendship.
Friendly reminder: if you seek out a sensitivity reader to help you gain more perspective on your work, please pay or barter with them. Do not ask for free labor on this, even if they are your friend. Perhaps especially so!
This story will run for six chapters, ranging from 1200 to 3400 words each, with content tags for each chapter as well as for the story as a whole. I plan to release them weekly. Here’s a teaser for you:
- Chapter 1: Going Right For It
- Chapter 2: Inside Her Mouth
- Chapter 3: Mixing Signals
- Chapter 4: Straddling A Strawberry
- Chapter 5: Mapping Her Pleasure
- Chapter 6: Touch Yourself for Me
(Discussion of food play, mouth play, and vore.)
A note to my readers who enjoy size kink associated with food, with the full-body kissing we call mouth play, and with oral vore. I greatly enjoy the first two topics, but for me the third topic is a hard limit. For whatever reason, my body does not respond in a sexy way to oral vore and this story will not go in that direction.
In the past when I have talked about how badly I want to be inside someone’s mouth, or how a partner licking my finger makes me feel instantly small because of my beloved mouthplay fantasies, I have been called a “tease” for not taking the “logical next step” to make it vore. That has made me reluctant to play in these ways for years. But sometimes people enjoy food and mouth play for their own sake, as more than just foreplay for vore. They’re two of my all-time favorite topics and I think it’s time for me to reclaim my love for them.
So this is my disclaimer that I am not trying to be a tease, just wanting to enjoy my loves of erotic food and mouth play more often, on my own terms. I fully support and celebrate anyone with a vore kink who wants to imagine this story with those themes, and I ask that you use the content tag “vore” for any discussion on posts that tag my username. Thank you! Happy reading~
Tagging is the only way I know for people online to be able to opt in or out of a sexual experience with fully informed consent. Learn more about why and how to use content tags, and browse tags important to the size kink community in my article “Content Tags: Accessibility, Edgeplay, & Surprise Sex.”
I welcome help in tagging—please let me know when I have missed anything important.
Tags for this story include:
F/f, CF/tf – Growth, shrinking, gentle, public play, teasing, mention of foot play, mild dissociation, so much sexual tension, a panic attack averted, pocket riding, hand held, romance, feelings, relationship, the L-word, love, licking fingers, kissing, mouth play, food play, chocolate, cake, strawberry, singing, music, handheld, body exploration, panties, cunnilingus, insertion, trans femme masturbation, full-body licks, breast play, aftercare
Tags for Chapter 2 include:
F/f, CF/tf – Growth, shrinking, gentle, public play, teasing, mild dissociation, so much sexual tension, a panic attack averted, pocket riding, licking fingers, kissing, mouth play
Read the story
TEXT VERSION: Read the text version of the story behind the cut.
AUDIO VERSION: I am saving up to commission a voice actor to read this story. If you’re as excited by that as I am, please buy me a coffee to help it become a reality sooner!
Chapter 2: Inside Her Mouth
By Elle Largesse
Copyright 2022, all rights reserved.
I took a deep breath and reached out slowly to touch the softest part of my friend’s throat. Her pulse thrummed under my fingertip.
“You know…” I leaned in closer so I could speak more freely. “The day you rescued me? And you carried me home in your shirt pocket?”
She nodded, her head turning slightly, her gaze searching for mine out of the corner of her eye.
“I remember the sound of your heartbeat. It was like leaning against a speaker at a concert. Big. You were so, so big to me.” I rested all four of my fingers against her throat and smiled when I felt her swallow. “Your heartbeat? It did things to me, Rae.”
She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. A human touching her wouldn’t have felt it, but as another sizeshifter, I could feel the way her skin trembled with potential. Like the kind of seismic activity that only special equipment could sense. Right before the big quake.
I smirked and pressed my advantage. I tilted my head, let my breath slowly warm her skin. Let my lips graze her throat near my smallest finger. Kiss. Then moving down so my lips touched beside my ring finger. Kiss. Then down by my middle finger, another lingering kiss. She moaned—quietly—and began to shake.
“You felt so big that I got lost in the sound of you…” I opened my lips in a wet kiss at the base of her throat, just above her collarbone. And then I used my tongue.
Rae made the smallest sound, barely a whisper of a whimper, and gave way to the earthquake inside.
When Rae sizeshifts, she looks like she aches for it. For those who can sense it, for those lucky enough to touch her while it happens, growth seems to come from deep inside. Like magma swelling up and pushing the tectonic plates of her outward in all directions. Under my lips she went white hot, and the first burst of size was intense enough that it actually pushed me back. She grew a whole head larger, filling up her overalls until the buckles slid all the way to their limits. My lips were now even with one of her breasts, and I might have nuzzled them if it weren’t for the fact I could see a panicked look in her eyes.
I grabbed her wrist with one hand and her knee with the other. I pressed down. HARD.
“Hey,” I said casually. I smiled up at her, as if I couldn’t feel her about to burst through her clothes and the ceiling. Rae usually had better control than this. “You’re okay. You’re here, and I’m here, and you’re safe, and I’m safe.”
I inhaled a big, slow breath and let it out through pursed lips. Still pressing hard. She wobbled a smile back at me and took her own breath. She inched larger as she did it, the circumference of her wrist pushing my fingers further apart ever so slightly.
The mid-century modern couch beneath us creaked as if announcing that it was having the best worst day of its life.
“Tell me what you smell right now,” I said.
“Coffee.” Her eyes flicked down and caught mine. “And you.”
My heart fluttered. “Mm hmm,” I said reassuringly. “And what do I smell like?”
“Like lemons. Or citrus. Maybe oranges.”
“Good, yeah. That’s my leave-in conditioner. It’s supposed to ‘increase shine and touchability,’ or something.”
She smiled. “So that’s your secret. But it’s sweeter than just oranges. Like a creamsicle.”
“That would be the vanilla lotion,” I said with a grin. She laughed, and then gave a sniff and a small sigh. “What can I say? I know what I like.”
Her skin felt steady, with no more hint of aftershocks, so I released her.
I pulled away but she reached for my hand. “Hey,” she said, giving me a quick squeeze with a hand large enough to make my own feel dainty. “Thank you.” My heart clenched as if she was wrapping her hand around my torso and holding me in place. I should be so lucky, I thought.
I thought I should give her an answering squeeze. Instead, I flashed a quick smile. “That’s what friends are for.” She said nothing, but I saw a muscle move in her jaw as she released me.
We both jumped as one of the other customers began packing up their laptop, oblivious to us and our sizeshifting shenanigans. Rae huffed a laugh, scrubbed her face, and looked at the ceiling. Still intact.
Neither of us acknowledged how close she’d come.
“Speaking of vanilla, I think you owe me a latte.” The grin I gave her wasn’t as triumphant as I thought it would be. I didn’t want to stop playing with her, didn’t want this to be the last round of teasing. But it would be really unwise to keep pushing her like this, wouldn’t it? What kind of friend would I be?
“Like hell I do,” she said. She pulled an incredulous face with a single arched eyebrow. “You shifted too.”
“You grew more than I shrank.”
Rae leaned forward until her breast squished into my arm like a big, warm, water balloon, and I had to stop myself from nudging it just to watch it jiggle under her overalls. “We both know if I got one more round, I’d shrink you into next Tuesday with a single move.”
I gasped. “How dare!” My heart should not be lifting at the prospect of another round. That would be really stupid, right? I should not rise to this bait. I should be smart, and end the bet, and we’d go back to whatever we were doing before I opened my stupid mouth.
Rae studied me, and reached a hand down to curl a finger in a lock of my hair that had escaped from my braids. “Very shiny,” she said. “Soft and so, so touchable.” She loomed like only Rae could loom, and held my hair close enough to breathe in the aroma of my citrus conditioner. I became aware of her scent, too. She smelled like summertime to me. Like fresh laundry and Skittles in sunshine.
“I would really like to keep touching you,” she said. “But it’s okay if you need to back down, I understand if you’re not up for the challenge. I’d dare you to go another round, but I wouldn’t want to have to carry you home in your own purse.” She released my hair and began to pull away.
“Bring it, bitch,” I growled.
“That’s more like it, little lady.” Rae grinned triumphantly down at me, smug as fuck. I melted a little at her pet name for me, but this was no time to turn into a puddle. I set my jaw, planted my feet firmly on the ground, and promised myself that whatever she did to me, I’d keep my feet on the ground. I could do that.
Just had to hold onto my size with an iron grip, and not give in.
I pushed my hands onto my thighs like I was bracing for impact.
“I should punish you for using such an outdated insult,” she said. “Tools of the patriarchy are beneath you. Though when I’m done with you, I think you’ll be the one beneath, well, pretty much everything.”
I was barely listening to her. Her hand moved closer, already so large compared to my own. I doubted I could fit my thumb and forefinger even halfway around her wrist.
She trailed her hand over mine. Petting me. She stroked again, using one finger and moving slower. I watched as if mesmerized. My eyes were drawn to the little hashmarks she had tattooed along the side of her index finger as a joke. Ostensibly they were for sewing. But half the time they weren’t accurate to scale. And she used them more to check her own size, rather than the spacing on her stitches.
Rae slowed down even more as she touched my trembling middle finger. Down the largest knuckle, over the skin, over the smaller knuckle, circling the cuticle and the bright purple polish. Then she changed the angle of her touch and pushed up underneath, against the pad of my fingertip.
She lifted. My hand followed.
She raised my middle finger higher and higher. To her mouth. It seemed to take a long time, and it also seemed like this was happening to someone else. As if maybe Rae was merely describing this to me, a story about what she did with a lover, that she was now relating to me as her best friend, and maybe this was just my overactive imagination, because surely, surely, I wasn’t about to feel my best friend put my finger in her mouth, surely this world couldn’t be real, surely I wouldn’t be so stupid as to let myself become so aroused in public that I dissociated right out of my own body—
Rae licked her lips and made a little “O” and pushed my fingertip against her soft, wet mouth.
“Oh my God,” I said.
I slipped inside.
I slipped inside her mouth.
My finger slipped deep into the soft, wet, close, sensual confines of Rae’s warm mouth.
Tongue, cheek, soft palette, different textures of skin, sliding like the waves of a storm over my finger. I was practically lost at sea within her.
I moaned softly. I held my size. I held to it tightly. Feet on the ground. Look, a coffeeshop. A person reading. I counted the ten petals of the succulent on the coffee table. The four cupcakes left in the bakery case. The six strawberries on the chocolate cake, so very far away.
But then, God help me. She started sucking.
My whole body lit up with a dazzling tingle of undeniable arousal. If Rae was an earthquake, I was a sparkler shoved into a bottle rocket.
It felt so good, so bright, so YES—
I shrank so fast that the world blurred. I’ve never done that before, never surrendered to it so completely. Why now? Why this moment? I didn’t measure myself inch by inch, didn’t take slow careful sips of the hot shrinking energy always threatening to burn me. Tonight I gulped down the fire. There were no numbers and no holding back any more. Because I didn’t want it to be my damn finger in her mouth. I wanted it to be me. All of me.
And so I shrank towards her.
In fucking seconds, a couple heartbeats, I had vacated my clothes and transported myself into her hand through the sheer intensity of my own desperate sizeshift, shrinking towards that focal point of my single finger slipped into her exquisite mouth.
Inside. Pushing through that liminal space where lips become mouth. Warmth, heavy wet heat. Sloping downward. Slipping within.