Monday, June 27, 2022

Holding Space - Pt. 3


CW: NSFW, M/m, male shrinking, honorifics, dudes being awkward, dudes doing it~


3.

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge.  You know where the bottle opener is.  If you’re going to play music, don’t make it too loud or the neighbors’ll complain.  Oh - and throw down a blanket on the couch?  I just had it reupholstered.”  Jordan gave us a knowing smirk, and walked wincingly off toward her bedroom, her steps awkward in her too-tight shoes.


“You’re not planning to join us?” I asked.


“Huh?  Oh, maybe later.”  She glanced again toward the back of her apartment.  “I wanted to give my two favorite guys a little private time.  Besides, I’m seriously going to die if I don’t get these clothes off.  If I’m lucky I’ll be able to accomplish the feat without an extraction crew.  I’ll holler if I need you to fetch the Jaws of Life or something.”


She left.


Casey and I stood together in the entryway.  My arm was around his shoulder, his hand was in mine.  


“Do you, um.  Want another beer?” I asked.


“No thanks.”


He led me over to the couch.  In silence, the two of us spread Jordan’s big grey afghan over the surface.  I was tucking it carefully into the cushions when Casey touched my shoulder.  “Hey.  Sit with me?”


I nodded, my heart beating very fast.  On the first attempt, I left the acceptable-for-friends six inches of space between us.  I corrected, and moved closer, until we were almost touching.


The AC unit in Jordan’s window made a funny clicking noise, then settled back into a low hum.  Somewhere on a floor beneath us, a man laughed.


“Want to put on a movie or something?  Or, the west coast games might still be on.  The Angels are playing the….”


“I have a confession to make.  I don’t actually like baseball.”  Casey gave me a sad little smile.  “Scott.  We don’t have to do this.”


“No.  No!  I want to, believe me.  I just… don’t know how to start.”


“I could go ask Jordan to make me a little smaller.  Would that help?”


I considered it.  Seriously.  The idea did cause a certain amount of stirring inside me.  But then I shook my head.  “Maybe later.  This is a good height for you.”


He smiled serenely, and leaned against me.  Resting his head against my shoulder, placing his hand on my chest.  “Yeah.  I think so too.”


I pulled him a little closer.  And then we just… sat that way.  For a long time.  His body rose and fell as he breathed against me.  His hair tickled my chin.  At first my brain worked through the calculus of how to initiate things with him.  But then I relaxed, and just enjoyed having him so close.


I wasn’t thinking anything at all, when he started to kiss my throat.  My body just responded to the sensation.  My head tilting back to give him better access, my arm around his shoulder, drawing him in tighter.  His lips were soft, and warm, and he placed them on me with slow precision.  Working his way from my sternum, to the bottom of my chin.  Up the line of my jaw.  I followed his progress, orienting toward him like a compass as he explored me.


He started to unbutton my shirt, and I let him, my hands resting at my sides.  Everything about this moment felt crisp, and immediate.  I was very aware of the way his fingers worked to free each individual button.  We made eye contact, and I saw his curiosity, his concern.  Asking without words if this was good.  I smiled encouragingly.  


Casey kissed his way down my chest, peeling back my shirt as he went.  Running his lips over me, down the trail of hair to my stomach, nuzzling me with his cheek as he went.  I held still, breathing deep.  He ran his fingers along the rim of my jeans, then began to struggle with my belt.


“Wait.”  I touched his chin, then motioned for him to stand.  “You first, okay?”


His clothes were so laughably baggy.  Understandable, since he’d lost eight inches of height.  It was such a damn cute look on him.  I stood behind him.  Resting my chin on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind.  When I leaned against him, my groin pressed against the small of his back.  He arched toward me, going up on his tiptoes, and let the firmness of his ass shove against me.  I growled a little moan into his ear, squeezing him tighter.  


He kept grinding into me this way as I lifted his shirt over his head.  It came easily, and then I just held him against me, one hand rough on his shoulder, the other across his tummy.  The two of us, moving together.  The sounds of our breath intermingling, sharing little gasps of pleasure and anticipation.  


My hand stroked lower.  Worked the button of his jeans, snapped it free.  Immediately his pants slipped several inches down his hips.  They probably would have fallen to his feet if I hadn’t been there to hold them in place, and if he hadn’t been so hard.  Carefully, delicately, I slipped beneath his waistband.  He froze, holding his breath, as I tugged at the soft fabric.  Searching, in the folds of his too-big boxers.  And then, my fingers brushed against the hard arch of his penis.  He cried out in a long note, that slowly decreased in pitch as I traced my thumb down the length of it.  Exploring him.  It was silky, and warm, and it pulsed ever so slightly with my touch.  I let my whole palm cover it, cupping him, running my fingers through his short, coarse pubic hair.


“It’s not too small, is it?”


I kissed his ear.  “Well it’s the first one I’ve ever touched, other than my own.  So it isn’t like I have a lot of, ah, opinions just yet.  Why, is that something you’re worried about?”


Casey grinned dreamily.  “It’s something I considered, yeah.  Given the present circumstances.”  He inhaled deeply, and breathed out through his nose.  “Besides.  I think it’s about to get smaller.”


He turned then in my grasp, moving away from me just a little.  His pants failed to fall away easily, catching for just a moment against his erection, and he was obliged to play with them a little before they dropped around his ankles.  He braced against my shoulder, leaning his naked body against me so he could lift himself high enough to kiss.  It was immediately apparent he’d lost a few inches in the time I’d been touching him.  As I held him, I could feel him continuing to shrink.


That damn near pushed me over the edge right there.  For a moment, I barely inhabited my body.  My hands gripped his ass savagely, directing him to thrust against me.  My tongue parted his little lips, wrestled him into submission.  Leaning over him, the weight of me forcing him down, even as he dwindled in my grasp.  I was on fire, mad for him, and from the sounds he was making, he felt the same way.  


After a few seconds, we managed to slow things down.  I let him kiss me, finding myself bending lower, and lower, to keep in contact.  My hand drifted, reached below, found his cock.  My palm pressed into it, so small now that I could cover it completely.  I let him buck his hips against me, grinning as I felt it shrinking in my grasp.


I was a head taller than him.  Then he slipped beneath my shoulders.  Then I was leaning forward, and his face was pressing against my bare chest.  He was huffing, making cute desperate sounds with his nose.  


“You’re getting close, aren’t you?  Little guy.  Just a couple more seconds of this is all it’s going to take, huh?”


Casey moaned.  Trembled against me.  Then with what must have been a huge amount of effort, he pulled away.  He was a red-faced, sweaty little mess.  He looked scared, and excited, and very turned-on.  I wasn’t in a headspace to take measurements, but I would have guessed he was around four and a half feet tall, and still visibly getting smaller.


“If it’s okay,” he said, in a tiny little voice.  “I’d like to, um.  Touch you too.  Before I get too little.  Is that okay?  Sir?”


That last word.  It had… an effect on me.  


Smirking, I made him step back.  Had him stand still as I slowly removed my belt, and slipped my pants down my thighs.  His eyes widened at the sight of me.  I don’t know which of us would’ve been bigger at normal size, but that was irrelevant.  To me, he was tiny, not much longer or thicker than my two biggest fingers put together, and that was so sexy that I could hardly see straight.  To him, though?  I must have looked enormous.  He watched in a haze of excitement, hands curling in my direction, but waited for me to tell him when to move.    


I took my time.  Sat.  Got comfortable.  Spread my legs, stretching out.  Then at last, beckoned him.


He was on me at once.  Dropping to his knees, an almost worshipful posture.  I had time to think he was the perfect height for this position, and then coherent thought became difficult.  His little hands, moving over me in circles, as if he was polishing an altar.  His eyes softly closed, his lips parted.  Moaning, and kissing, and nuzzling.  He could’ve pushed me over the edge in only a few seconds like this.  But he wanted to savor this as much as I did, and he seemed to know every button to push.  Fingernails along the underside of my shaft, making me twitch.  Lightly caressing my balls with his fingertips.  A gentle little nibble just beneath the crown of my penis.  


My voice cracked.  I saw stars.


I’m not sure how long this went on before I realized just how small he was getting.  It was probably when he was obligated to stand up to reach me.  It was awkward for a moment, as we tried to figure out how we fit together.  He was too small to reach me comfortably from his knees, but too big to easily reach me with his mouth if he was standing.  But then he reached out, cupped the backside of my dick with both hands, and eased me toward him.  He arched his hips, brought us together, and massaged his tiny little cock against mine.  


I groaned, placing both my hands on his back.  Giving him purchase, pulling him closer.  Lifting him higher as he thrust.  As he got smaller I was more and more in control of his motions, until I was using him like a toy.  He groaned in satisfaction, looking up at me with soft, needy eyes.  He shrank, and I gripped him tighter.  Not even half my height, his little moans delightfully high in pitch.  Getting louder, reaching a crescendo.


I braced against the couch, flexing my thighs.  My toes curling….


In the next room, something crashed.  Jordan screamed – her voice much deeper than I remembered.  It was not a sound of surprise, or pain.  But of terror.  Casey and I looked at each other.  I’m ashamed to say there was a moment of indecision.  Though probably, not more than half a second.


The half-sized man almost tripped over his pants as he started to run toward Jordan’s bedroom.  I quickly got him free.  Then, hiking up my own jeans, I hurried after him.


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