She slips the little man into her labia. He’s her best toy, and it’s only a few moments before his tiny, ineffectual struggles to break free from the overpowering grip of her sex make her wet. Her hands float between her legs; she can’t decide if she wants to keep up with the foreplay and let him keep squirming where he is or if she should go ahead and get down to fucking.
After a few minutes, however, his flailing has turned her on too much. All it takes is one of her fingers to press down, and suddenly the tiny body that had been struggling in her lips is now in a fully fledged panic deep in her cunt. Mmmmmmm. Despite his insignificance, or perhaps because of it, he’s able to make her lustfully drunk. He’s so small that his whole body fits entirely insider her vagina; in other circumstances, that wouldn’t be pleasurable, but here, she’s swallowed a living man completely, and that feeling of power is virtually divine. She’s basically his goddess.
That thought is enough to bring on orgasm, but she resists. Her rush to push him in notwithstanding, she wants to make sure that her little toy gives her her due. The longer he’s in there, the better she’ll come. And even after that, he’ll stay in her for a while longer: his struggles just feel too good.
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