The Size Anthology

by KT Morrison

  Matt’s mom had left his dad when Matt was eleven. She’d run off with Moric’s dad, Dominik Laszlo. He owned a forklift company and he did pretty well, so Matt spent his teen years in this house. This forty-five-hundred square foot modern box house with black-painted wood siding set in the centre of a five acre lot. Hidden from the other wealthy neighbors by towering conifers. Dominik was a good stepdad but Matt’s stepbrother Moric was a fucking asshole. He was two years older than Matt, twenty-four now, and he was a bully.

  “Come on,” Chloe said, “just get me in your bedroom already,” breaking him away from the stare he had locked on the big, black pickup truck.

  “Yeah,” he said, “let’s go.” He held her hand, drew her lips to him with his eyes and kissed her, put Moric right out of his head.

  They got out of the Ford and walked up the cedar stairs, across the deck to the back of the house. It looked out over a small pond, iced over now, rimmed with pine trees, boughs heavy with snow. Matt looked in through the glass doors, saw that the kitchen was empty.

  “Come on, quick,” he said, waving Chloe closer to him.

  She hopped next to him, peering over his shoulders into the big, open, modern house.

  “Coast clear?” she asked him, breathy and sexy.

  “Yeah, let’s go,” he said.

  He slid the door open and they slipped in. The house was quiet but they could hear some music upstairs. Something was in the oven, he could see the lights on and it smelled like roasting carrots and beef and something sweet.

  He held out his hand behind him for Chloe and she took it. Her hand was tiny in his. His mom was home, she was around here somewhere, but he had business to take care of before his happy homecoming. He had a forty-percent boner in his underwear since he’d put his arms around Chloe when he got off the bus.

  They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, listening, Chloe looking around, Matt looking up to the top of the white metal, open staircase lined with steel cables.

  “Okay,” he said and he led her up the stairs. He saw that his mom had bought new artwork. They paused at the landing looking out over the living room and there was a new painting above the massive stone fireplace. Some modern, abstract mess, must have been ten feet tall.

  “Okay,” he whispered, led her up around the landing, up another short flight of stairs then across the polished, bright, birch hallway floor.

  The music was coming from Moric’s bedroom, some pounding thunderous double-bass—Pantera or some other hardcore metal nonsense behind his solid wood door. He couldn’t help tip-toeing past. Old habits.

  Now they were in the home stretch. If Mom was in her bedroom it was down the hall to the right another fifty feet in the wrong direction from his.

  “Quick, Chloe, be quiet,” he whispered and they made it to his door and he opened it. They slipped in to his dark bedroom, and he closed the door softly behind him.

  Chloe was already pulling off her ski jacket, kicking off her sneakers, wanting to be naked. She had bare feet in her shoes.

  “You’re not wearing socks?” he said, throwing off his navy peacoat.

  She looked down at her bare feet on his wooden bedroom floor and she wriggled her teeny toes. She said, “No.”

  “Aren’t you cold? It’s winter—”

  “Who cares,” she said, and she put her hands crossed over on the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head. She had pretty, little B cups and she wasn’t wearing a bra. He watched them jiggle as she struggled to get the shirt over her wild head of hair. Her light pink nipples were full and plump but not hard yet. Her breasts were soft and creamy. He had gone to one-hundred-percent in his underwear just like that.

  She threw her T-shirt on the floor, exasperated by the effort. She stood in front of him naked, just wearing a pair of faded, red sweatpants, bare feet, hip cocked, pretty little titties thrust out at him. She blew a lock of hair out of her face with her pouted lips. He would marry her on the spot. Right now, a reverend here in his room, he would take this girl to be his lawfully wedded wife without a second thought.

  “Shit, Chloe, I fucking love you,” he said, overwhelmed with his feelings for her.

  He watched a smile creep across her face, and she said, “I love you, too, Matty baby.”

  She hopped to him, two little ones, making her titties bounce. She wrapped her long arms around his neck and kissed him. He let his hands explore her smooth back, felt her hair brush the backs of his hands. He felt the diamond shapes of her shoulder blades, tracing them with his fingertips. Chloe was working the buttons of his Oxford now, getting his shirt open. Matt’s hands went down her narrow waist then slipped under the loose waistband of her sweatpants and he felt the soft flesh of her rump through her panties.

  “Get this off,” she said, running her hands over his chest underneath his shirt, trying to push it off his shoulders. He pulled his arms out of it, let it fall to the floor while she worked the buckle of his belt. Matt watched her long fingers work, his heart pounding, his cock straining against the fabric of his khaki chinos.

  “I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he said to the top of her head.

  She looked up at him, ran her palm along the underside of his erection behind the cotton, she said, “I can tell.”

  Chloe got on her knees and undid his fly watching her own hands do it, waiting to see him revealed. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of his Jockeys and she slowly pulled them down with his pants then peeled them out a bit so his cock could spring up and bounce in front of her.

  “There’s my guy,” she said, and she smiled. She let his pants fall to the floor and ran her fingertips down his shaft making him groan and buckle. Then her hot mouth went over it, her plump lips making a good seal around his shaft, caressing the sides as she took him deep, all the way. Her mouth was so soft and wet he fell back against the wall and closed his eyes.

  “That feels so amazing, Chloe,” he said.

  “Mm-hmm,” she hummed as she went up and down him, taking him all the way until her nose was filled with his pubic hair, then right back so her pouted lips came to a point at the very tip of his throbbing cock. Then she plunged back down. Every time she did he trembled and his eyes rolled up in his head. Her hands clenched his buttocks, squeezed them and scratched them while she fucked him with her pretty mouth.

  His hands caressed the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her beautiful hair. He said, “Oh, stop, baby, I’m going to come.”

  Her mouth came off him, her fingers still stroked the underside of his cock pressing him into his belly. “You don’t want to come in my mouth?” she said, her eyes sultry, her tongue gliding down from his tip to his balls, sucking one of them into her mouth.

  “Ah, shit, Chloe,” he said, his head going back and hitting the wall again. “I need to fuck you.”

  3

  Chloe stood up and turned her back to him, took a few steps, swinging her hips, knowing he was watching. She put her thumbs into her waistband and twisted them up in the fabric, lowered her pants, swaying, revealing her perfect, tight ass to him and the ‘V’ of her bright pink panties. Matt stepped out of his pants, kicked them off, then pulled the socks off with one finger and threw them in the corner.

  Chloe climbed up onto his bed, walked across it on all fours, her sweatpants around her knees, her white rump tilted up peeking out from her tight undies. She rolled over onto her back, her knees up, and she pushed her sweats down and kicked them off the bed.

  Matt climbed up and between her legs, lowered his lips to her hard, tight belly, kissing her, then running his tongue down and onto her belly button. She put her little feet onto the tops of his thighs, her fingers ran through his hair. Her panties smelled like some sweet candy perfume and he pressed his lips into her mound through the cotton. He heard her moan up above him. His finger hooked into the front of them and he eased them down, his tongue running along in the wake as her skin was being revealed. Then his finger slid in between her folds, felt how wet
she was.

  He got up on his knees over her, pulled her panties off and she let him, lifting her rump up and twisting, holding her legs together while he slid them down and off. He looked in her eyes, told her how beautiful she looked, and she let her legs come apart, hooked a finger into her pouted lips, bit it, watched him as she revealed her most intimate part.

  She had a perfect pussy. Soft mound shaved bare, not a single blemish as if she just never had any hair there. Her little pink labia were bright and tight and neatly folded. Matt went back down, tasted her bare bitter flesh against his tongue, her legs came together around his ears.

  “Ah, shit, Matt, oh, baby,” she said. He worked his tongue through her, felt her hard button and teased it, pressed it with the tip of his tongue. But he couldn’t take it any more—he rolled and reached for his bedside drawer.

  “Oh, shit, Matt, that felt so good,” she moaned, her hands pressing and rubbing between her own legs, her thighs together, clamping and releasing.

  Matt got his condom from his drawer, tore it open and then squeezed the condom on, rolled it down his shaft. Chloe was already moving, up on her knees now next to him and she swung a leg over him, straddled his hips, reached behind her and took his latex cock and guided it to her hot wet opening.

  She gasped out as she found it, guided his tip in, then sat back on him taking him deep all the way to his balls. She held him in and she rocked her hips on him—not thrusting, just rocking and bucking, grinding her hard button into his pubic bone and feeling him all the way inside her. Matt lay flat and flexed his rump, pushed his cock out as far from his body as it would go, gave her as many inches as he had so she could work on it.

  “Mmmm,” she hummed, biting those plump lips, sucking them into her mouth.

  “You feel so good, Chloe,” he said, “you feel amazing.”

  “Shhhh,” she whispered, her mind elsewhere. She was going to come. Her eyes were closed and Matt never felt better about being used.

  “Ahh,” she cried out as she started to orgasm. She rocked quicker, harder, until his penis popped out of her and she sat on it, straight down and it hurt, made him sit up.

  “Ah, shit,” he said and she frantically reached back, scrambling to get it back inside her.

  “Ow, careful,” he said, still smarting from her banging on it, compressing it.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said and stuffed him inside her urgently. She was careful, swiveling and pushing on him but after a while she stopped. She collapsed next to him. She said, “Shit I lost it. I was so close, too.”

  “Sorry, baby,” he said.

  “That’s okay. We can go again later. I’m just glad you’re back. I haven’t been, you know ... I haven’t been touching myself since you’ve been gone.”

  “Really?” he said.

  “No, it’s been making me a little crazy. Sometimes I get so horny I feel like I might go out of my mind,” she said and she pulled up on the tip of his condom, watched it slip up his shaft.

  “I missed my little man,” she said and she curled up next to him, rested her head on his stomach and watched her fingers run up and down him. She traced the edges of his glans with the tip of her long index finger running it in circles around his hole.

  “Oh, Chloe,” he said and he rubbed her smooth back.

  “Have you been leaving him alone while we’re apart?”

  “I wish I could say I was like you, but I have to admit I touch him a lot. But I’m thinking of you, baby. Guys are different. I have to let it out or it’s possible I could end up murdering somebody.”

  “I don’t know if we’re that different, baby,” she said. She had her thumb and forefinger on his shaft, gripping him tight, making an OK sign and running it up and over his glans then back down into his pubic hair. “Girls have urges, too, you know.”

  “Ah, Chloe, ah, I’m going to come.”

  “I think we’re just like guys. Sometimes I want it so bad I could scream.” She slowed her stroking, went back to teasing him. “I get some crazy, dirty thoughts …”

  Now she went back to stroking him, going up and down, squishing her circled fingers over the top of his little glans. “Promise me you’ll save it up for me, baby,” she said.

  “I won’t be home until Christmas, Chloe.”

  “Save it for me, Matt,” she was slipping it around his end now, quick feathery strokes. She was letting him come, she was wanting him to, was wanting to watch it come out of him.

  “Whatever you want I’ll do it, baby, just don’t stop, don’t stop—”

  “Come for me, Matty, show it to me.”

  “Ah, baby,” he buckled, heard her giggling on his stomach while she jerked him now with just her thumb and fingertips, watching it spurt from him.

  “That’s it, baby,” she encouraged him, her touch so slippery on his sensitive glans.

  “Oh, stop, Chloe,” he said, overwhelmed, too sensitive to be touched, but she persisted, and he kept spurting, turning his hips and shooting into his bedsheets. She still had a hold of it, gripping it tight in one hand and making circles on his sensitive tip with the palm of her other hand. She kept giggling and tickling, driving him crazy until he brought his knees up and hunched over, drawing his penis back, hiding it from her so she couldn’t get to it. “Ah, oh, stop, stop, baby,” he was laughing, too.

  “You’re gross,” she said, scrunching her nose up, holding her hands up, his semen in strands between her fingers, running down her wrists. “Look what you did all over my pretty hands.”

  He looked over his shoulder at her, face down on the bed. She was sitting naked, one leg folded up under her, the other one up and her forearm resting across it, looking at the mess in her hands. Her dirty blonde hair hung straight down over her perky breasts.

  “You’re so juvenile,” he said.

  He saw her face fade to blank. She wiped her hands on his back.

  “No, I’m not,” she said and she lay next to him, turned her back to him and folded her arms.

  He watched her bare back breathe for a moment, then he turned and spooned himself in behind her. He ran a hand along her upper arm.

  She said, “Don’t.”

  “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I was playing.”

  “Not all of us go to Harvard, you know.”

  He put his arm around her, rested his chin in the hollow where her neck met her shoulder. “I love you, Chloe. I love you one-hundred-percent the way you are.”

  She put her hand over his and he lay like that with her for a while. They should get up and go say their hellos, his mom must be around somewhere down there. She wouldn’t come in and disturb them. She’d know what they were up to, being apart so long, seeing Chloe’s car in the driveway. He didn’t want to rub it in his mom’s nose though, but he would love to lay with Chloe in his bed until it was time to go back to school next week.

  He looked around the old room, the place where young Matt had lived. His Che Guevara flag, his original Vampire Weekend poster, back before MTV discovered them. He looked at his old books that he liked when he was a teenager, his trophies, photos of friends tucked into the edge of a mirror.

  “What did you do for fun while I was away?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “The usual.”

  “Hanging out with Chelsea?”

  “Yeah, we’ll go hang out on a Friday, Craig’s house, or go down and drink at the ravine.”

  “You still do that?”

  “Yeah, why?” She turned partly and he saw her troubled profile, her pretty upturned nose and her questioning eyebrow. He kissed her shoulder.

  “Let’s go get something to eat. Say hi to my mom.”

  “Aw, don’t you want to go again?” she flipped around and smiled at him, ran her fingernails along his chest. Her nails had been turquoise but they were chipped and pulled away from the edges. He took her hand up and looked at it in his own, her long hands and long fingers, leather bracelets and silver rings. He worried about her out la
te with her friends and some boys in the dark at the ravine. Drinking alcohol. She was a little sweetheart but she was very impressionable.

  “Eat first, then we’ll come back up and we’ll take more time.”

  “Okay,” she said and she smiled, cuddled up to him. “I didn’t dress like I was gonna see your parents, I just went to get you in what I was hanging out in.”

  “You look fine, baby. You look better than fine,” he said and kissed her forehead.

  4

  Matt watched her get dressed. She got out of bed naked and then looked around for her panties. She found them, slipped them on, then got her sweatpants and turned them around and around trying to find a label or seam that she could figure out the back from. She stood in just her hot pink panties, one hip thrust out, her pale globe cut with the hot pink fabric, her little toes scrunched up on the floor. He could have watched this show all night. He lay on his belly and held his head up with his hands, smiling at her. She got it finally, maybe, and she slipped her long legs in them, hiked them up, making her boobies jiggle. Then she found her T-shirt and did the same thing with it, going around and around trying to figure out back from front. It had a big black and white graphic on it but it spread all across the shoulders down both sides, not giving her any clues at all.

  “Aren’t you getting dressed?” she said, sliding the T-shirt over her head.

  “Yeah,” he said and he lifted himself off the bed, shuffled to his pile of clothes.

  “I can just go around in my bare feet, right? I don’t wanna wear my shoes in the house.”

  “Yeah, thats fine, baby,” he said, pulling his pants on. “I love your little tootsies.”

  She looked down at her feet and then wrapped one arm across herself, grabbing her other elbow; she bit her swollen lip nervously.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

  “I don’t feel like I’m dressed to meet your mom or dad. Is your stepbrother here? I’ve never even met him ...”

  “It’s okay, baby,” Matt said and he hugged her. “Mom loves you. I think my stepdad has a crush on you. You’re family. This is how my family dresses around the house. You look good, trust me.”