GITJ Post 299: A Monday After, p1

What the…where am I? I thought, slowly sitting up on my kitchen table and gazing up at the ceiling, And what the hell is that?

I’d fallen asleep, apparently, on the kitchen table. Well, passed out is more like it. What time was it? It was morning? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was naked underneath the thin blanket Melissa had obviously put over me, my cock hurt and the room smelled like paint.

And now there was some of it on the ceiling.

What did she do? I marveled, lamenting at the fact that now I’d somehow have to paint my ceiling too but also, I must admit, smiling like a love-struck kid at the gesture. She’d painted a huge ‘I love you!!!’ above where I’d slept, meaning for me to see it first thing when I woke. I found myself grinning, despite myself.  No one had ever done anything nearly as romantic as this for me before and it made me a little giddy. She’s a nut. No, actually, she may be crazy. Like, really. She could have - as unconscious as I was - carried me into bed. But no she left me sleeping on my kitchen table and somehow got that painted right above me, in ‘Twilight Blush’. Plus there was the whole wanting to be bigger and able to toss me around like a rag doll thing too which should have made me nervous since the woman was apparently some sort of superwoman. But…jeez…this is too cute.

She said she loved me.

I mean…yesterday was pathological, I thought, We each have something wrong with us, and together it’s…yikes. That was crazy. I mean, I’ve known I’m a bit strange in my tastes, kinks, fixations. I’ve known that for decades. Plus, I was physically changing, losing weight, and wasn’t nearly as concerned as I should have been. But she, Melissa too? She had said she was in some sort of ‘growth spurt’, and I knew girls everywhere were into this ‘vulni-chic’ thing - being bigger than your partner was the trend - but I always figured it was some sort of fad. The stuff Melissa was saying yesterday, though, and the things she got me to admit? This is going to be deeper and weirder than I may be able to handle. What would it mean for us, for me, I wondered, if I let this continue?

Wow what time is it?

But she said she loved me!

Okay okay okay. Yes I had to consider the possibility that she might have been a little mentally imbalanced, or a lot. And she’d been evasive, since we met, about her past. I kinda sorta thought there was some trauma there and I was going to hope that, as we got more comfortable around one another, she’d open up and share. I knew for myself there were things about my own past, my family, my childhood that I hadn’t shared yet, either. We were maybe not at that point in our relationship, where we could be totally honest with one another, but I could see that changing, already. But - is it somewhere I feel comfortable going? I fretted, Is a deeper connection something I want to pursue with a girl like Melissa. I mean…we’re so different. She’s - I forget - ten, fifteen years my junior? Little-to-no education. Horrible speller. But, does that matter, if we’re…in love?

But - was I in love with her, the way she said she was in love with me? I, for sure, had strong feelings - but were they love? I was…obsessed, yes. Fixated, for sure. Furtively worshipful? Maybe. But she honestly made me feel…like no one else ever had before. Yes she was built like a wet dream but also she was so warm and earnest with me, accepting of (and maybe, I admit, even encouraging of) my weaknesses. Sheryl was never like that; no one’s ever been like that, and it felt, now…nice. Is this love? Maybe? I wondered, Or maybe the early beginnings of it?

Yikes it’s a Monday. I have early patients today. I hope it’s not eight o’clock yet.

I looked at myself, now that I’d sat up on the kitchen table, feet dangling off the end, in the mirror on the back of the door. The same mirror in front of which Melissa and I had posed yesterday, comparing our insanely disparate sizes. I immediately felt a pang that I recognized…I felt the aching absence of her. But also, looking at my reflection, my sunken chest, my pipe-cleaner arms, I felt the shock of how small I appeared, I felt a rush of shame. This is what she likes? I puzzled, I’m so…puny. Puny everywhere except…

I pulled the thin blanket, which had been laying across my lap, away from myself.

I’m not, I said to myself, as I looked at the cock hanging between my legs, shadowed aside my thigh, I’m not all little. In my own way, in fact, I’m big. I watched as if, with the sudden attention, blood had started to engorge my manhood, causing it to stir. I may be small now, a short man. I may barely stand as tall as her chest, I was telling myself as my cock began to rise off the table, but at least I have this. It’s big, and she likes it.

I marveled at it, at myself, as the thing slowly rose up, like a schooner’s mast, past my belly. Rather than the concern or chagrin I usually felt in facing it, beefy and hearty in contrast to my skinny frame, I instead felt a surge of pride. I watched it, thickening still, realizing that blood was draining from the rest of me to feed its growth. Melissa likes it big, I reminded myself, hardness surging as I recalled the husky timbre that came to her voice when she addressed it, or the flash in her eyes when she watched it swell for her. I was, here, restoring some of my fleeting male ego, gaining pride from my cock. She likes my erection, she likes my come. She licked it off me, she slurped it from her hand, I advanced, and I can make so much for her.

I should really check my phone, the time…

With one hand I reached for it, left for me on the table, and with the other I grabbed my shaft.

There’s some pictures of her on here…

It was then that I saw the text from Melissa:  “Good morning hun 😊 Marisela and Randi and me won’t be in the office til later. There helping me at a photo shoot for new offises.”

“Huh, okay,” I said, nodding to myself and acknowledging that little sense of disappointment: I was going to miss her. But if I was going to have to struggle to put her out of my mind for a few hours, looking at a few photos of her here might help….

But anyway, I should first check the time…

…ten-thirty!?! Holy crap!

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