My Lovely Sylvia (Complete)

[pseudoclever]

Hey folks. I've been leeching for too long now, and I felt the itch to get back into the writing game. So here's something I've been working on for a bit. Incidentally, the genre was decided by dice rolls. This is part 1 of 4. The rest will be posted over the next few days. Comments/criticism welcome. Enjoy!


My Lovely Sylvia

From the moment I saw her, I knew she was special. I was walking into my first college lecture when our eyes met from across the room. That one glance felt like a moment of stark reality, like waking from a long dream. We both looked away quickly but, as she would tell me later, that instant was all it took. I crossed the room, trying to look casual, and took the empty seat next to her.

I turned toward her, mouth open with some empty pleasantry. The words caught in my throat as I found her staring right back at me. We both looked away, blushing. But at least I'd gotten a better look at her this time. Her hair was bright red, like crackling fire. She had a cute face, with perfect skin and a nose with just the slightest hint of an upturn. Her body was firm and trim, with curves in all the right places. Her breasts appeared just a bit overlarge on a girl so thin. An ex-girlfriend once told me that that was a dead giveaway for implants, but somehow I didn't think that was the case here. She wore a skintight black top that showcased her assets beautifully, and a matching skirt.

After another moment, my hormone-addled brain made another connection, one that should've been obvious. This girl was incredibly tall! My driver's license says I'm 5'10?, but I guessed she was nearly a head taller than that. Normally I prefer shorter girls. In this case however, I was willing to make an exception.

Our professor started class. During the dull half-hour he spent reading the course requirements, I snuck glances at her whenever I could. And sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I thought she was doing the same. At last Mr. Whoever finished, then suggested we spend a moment getting to know our neighbor, in case we had to miss class. My heart leapt into my throat.

?Wow, that took forever!? I opened. ?I've never understood why teachers feel like they need to read the syllabus to us.?

She laughed. ?I know! I mean seriously, this is college. Do they think we're illiterate??

Her name, she said, was Sylvia. Her voice reminded me of maple syrup ? warm, sweet, and dark. We were both from metro Chicago. We both played World of Warcraft. We were attending on the same scholarship. I'm normally a little shy around new people, but with Sylvia, the words just poured out of me. We were both smiling at each other, saying ?yes? a lot.

Class ended, and we packed up. This moment felt significant. It was as though I was about to decide which reality to live in ? the one where I asked Sylvia out, or the one where I didn't. Easy choice.

I swallowed, and tried not to notice how far up I had to look to meet her eyes now that we were standing. ?Hey, I don't know if you'd be interested,? I began, trying to keep my heart-rate down. ?I don't know anyone on campus yet, and I thought maybe you'd like to get together sometime....?

?Sure!? she interrupted. ?How about tonight? I saw this interesting-looking place on my way to class today, The Wooden Nickel. You know it?? As it turned out, the bar was only a couple hundred feet from my dorm. After exchanging numbers, she turned to leave the room. Just before she walked out the door, she gave me one last look. She smiled again, and adjusted her shoulder strap.

Later that evening, I sat at a secluded table in the corner of the Nickel. I was trying to decide what the manliest drink was for her to find me sipping, when she walked in. Her height made her impossible to miss. But no matter her size, she would've drawn attention. She wore a gorgeous blue dress that perfectly accented her curves and made her hair stand our like a beacon. She surveyed the room and, noticing me, made a bee-line to the table. Her smile was a thousand-watt lightbulb, and it made my insides feel warm. She ordered a Long Island, and I asked for a beer.

We chatted for awhile. Warcraft girls are so easy to talk up...what server do you play on? Alliance or horde? Don't you hate gankers? Our conversation gradually bled away from such well-trodden territory. The drinks arrived, and with them our talk became more comfortable.

?Let me tell you my philosophy of life,? said Sylvia, setting her drink down with a thud like a gavel. We'd been drinking for an hour, and we both a bit south of sober. ?A lot of things have happened in my life. Some good, some bad. But I wouldn't give up any of them ? not for anything. Do you know why?? I shook my head no.

?Because, some day we're all going to be dead.? I let out a snicker, and she playfully punched me in the shoulder. ?I'm serious! There's nothing any of us can do about it, right? If you're lucky, you see it coming. You're in your death bed, and you get to think about what you've seen. At that moment, all you have are your experiences. Your memories. If you've lived a good life, you drift into eternity surrounded by happiness. Otherwise....? She shrugged, and took another long sip from her beverage.

?What about the after-life?? I asked.

?I don't know what that is. People think they know, they pretend they know. Maybe it's there, maybe it isn't. But I think you need to act like it's not.?

I parried with Pascal's Wager. She explained with a straight face that Pascal was a douche. This caused me to laugh so hard that I nearly fell out of my chair.

Sylvia was so warm, so fun to talk with. Most girls can't hold my interest for the length of an anecdote, and I find myself wishing they'd just shut up. But here was a lady who had a mind. I hung on her every word, and when I talked she seemed to really listen instead of just waiting for her turn to speak. Still, I sensed that on some level she was a bit uncomfortable. It was subtle. But once in awhile, she'd look down and frown ever so slightly, or self-consciously adjust her dress. I'm no mind-reader, but with a couple drinks in me I was ready to trust my feelings. And they told me that it had something to do with our height difference.

?So, I wanted to ask you about something. You're really tall....?

?You noticed, huh?? she replied dryly, though not without humor.

?Yeah well, it'd be hard to miss. Anyway, I remember a psychology class I once took, where we were discussing mate height and gender. Men don't really care how tall or short girls are, as I recall. But women do. And specifically, most tall girls don't want to be with guys who are....?

?Shorter,? Sylvia finished. I nodded. She took a pull from her drink, and seemed to consider this. ?I guess you can say that I'm not most girls. It's...complicated. But the simple answer is that I'm a lot more interested in a guy's personality, and whether we have any chemistry.? Here she reached across the table, and confidently rested her hand on top of mine. ?And I can tell you, you don't have anything to worry about.?

Holding her hand made me feel better than I could have imagined, and again I felt warmth spreading through my body. Our talk grew more intimate. I found myself telling her things that even some of my best friends didn't know about me. She listened thoughtfully, and her answers showed a real depth of understanding. Still, I couldn't help but think that she'd dodged my question. And she kept fiddling with her outfit.

We talked late into the night. At midnight, the waitstaff began to put chairs on tables, and the bartender gave us a significant look. We took the hint. ?Mind walking me back to my place?? she asked, with the barest hint of nervousness. ?It's late, and these streets are too dangerous for an unescorted lady.? How could I refuse?

Outside, the night was pleasantly warm. I could smell the faint aroma of burning leaves. A half moon was rising, big and orange on the horizon. Once more she slipped her hand into mine, causing a giant grin to cross my face. We walked on in silence, enjoying each other's company. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was off. I thought about it, but the closeness of Sylvia's body made it difficult to concentrate.

?This is me,? she said at last. We stood in front of an elegant two-story house. The building looked like a relic from a long-past era, and I took note of a plaque marking it as historic. In any case, it was far nicer than my tiny dorm, and way too big for one college student. ?I'm renting it with a couple other girls,? she explained, sensing my confusion. ?They haven't shown up yet.? I followed her up the sidewalk, not knowing what else to do. I definitely didn't want the night to end. We climbed the porch and stood together, the foot between us feeling like a chasm. This was another nexus point between realities.

?I had a great time tonight,? I offered lamely. I turned, hoping for a good-night kiss, when all at once it stuck me; Sylvia no longer towered over me. We were nearly the same height ? maybe I was even a bit taller! My mind lurched, trying to make sense of this development.

Our eyes met, and I started to sputter out a question. She silenced me with a look. ?Please, don't ask,? she whispered. ?Just....? And with that, she placed her hand behind my head, and drew me in for a kiss.

Time seemed to slow down as I felt her lips pressed against mine. I've been with other girls before, but never have I been aware of so many details in a moment. Her hot breath against my face. The warmth of her skin. The tightness of her body. And her lips ? soft, wet, and delicious. I wrapped my arms around her, and she sighed in contentment.

A happy eternity later, our kiss ended. I beheld the girl who, in the past twelve hours, had managed to capture my heart. Sylvia's hair was slightly our of place. She was panting just a bit, and the way she was looking at me, I could tell that our evening was just beginning. I also noticed that her dress was hanging off her now. Where hours before it had been form-fitting, it now appeared several sizes too big. With a shock I realized that in the time we'd been kissing, she'd lost at least another inch of height.

This development was so intriguing, and so strangely erotic. I burned to ask her what was happening, and why. But instead I held her hand as she fumbled with her keys. She unlocked the door and led me inside.

[Ninja In The Night]

Wow.... that's an amazing beginning. I really hope to see more. Your use of words is grade A. Good job & keep up the great writing.

[LOD]

You sir are a great storyteller. You've definitely peeked my interest.

[scidram]

WOW! What a great start! And I love her telling him not to ask, like she obviously knows what is happening to her and why. Very intriguing.

Thanks for sharing. Can't wait for more.

[toigye78]

nice sweet slow shrinking, i look forward to more

[Nom Anor]

Great kick-off and a very nice style; well done.

[Clickme]

Wow. You did a nice job in the first part, and now I can't wait for the next. ^_^

[strawman1985]

you got me interested, more please

[Transformationist]

I absolutely love this. Well-written, nice descriptions, good dialogue. It's believable.

That, and I -love- slow shrinking, especially when the girl starts out taller.

Terrific.

[TB Tabby]

Oh yeah, I love this. I love any SW story where the love in a relationship isn't based on Stockholm Syndrome.

[wilkem101]

great start so far. can't wait for more!!

[pseudoclever]

Thanks for the comments guys, I really appreciate it. The story gets pretty mature from here on in. You've been warned. Enjoy.

The house was dark and smelled musty, as though it had spent a summer standing vacant. For a brief moment I regarded the room, lit by the ruddy orange glow of a streetlight. The floors were carpeted, and old-fashioned chairs and a couch were arranged about the room. I barely had time to take in these details before I was being pressed hard into the door by an incredibly beautiful woman. It was not unpleasant.

Sylvia took each of my hands in hers and gently but firmly pushed them above my head and against the wall. ?While I still can,? she said cryptically. She began to kiss me, softly at first, but with ever-building passion. Her movements became more frantic. Her lips pecked mine again and again, then she pressed into me open-mouthed for a long moment. Our tongues met, and I tasted her saliva mixed with the delicate flavor of vodka and triple sec. As far as I was concerned, it was the best thing I'd ever tasted. Gradually she migrated, finding my cheeks, my eyes, my neck. She nibbled briefly on my ear, and tugged on my earlobe with her teeth. The feeling of her warm lips against such a sensitive part of my body made my head swim, and I moaned loudly.

Somewhere in the middle of this she'd let go of my hands. I used this new-found freedom to touch her amazing body. My hands stroked her back, up to her neck. I ran my fingers through her long red hair. Opening my eyes, I found her looking right back at me. The stare she returned, the expression of adoration on her face, spoke volumes. This was more than a fling. This was something special.

I continued to her shoulders, running my palms across her arms, down to her hips. I felt compelled to touch every inch her, and I think she approved. The loosening fabric of her dress clearly indicated that, whatever had made her smaller, it was still happening.

My hands rubbed her sides, and inched up to trace the edges of her bosom. She responded by stepping back slightly, giving me free access to her chest. I spent a moment teasing her, letting my fingers draw circles around and between her boobs. Sylvia's eyes glazed over, and she clung to me tightly. When at last I could wait no longer, I gently took hold of her ample breasts. I fondled them, savoring their firmness, and squeezed them lovingly. She gasped in pleasure, and in that moment I actually felt her body dwindle in my arms. For some reason, this turned me on even more, and I redoubled my efforts.

Eventually she took my hand in hers and gave me a slight tug. ?Come on,? she said, her voice hungry, ?let's get more comfortable.? As she walked, I took the opportunity to gauge her size. The top of her head was now roughly level with my nose. My geometry isn't great, especially when another part of my body is sucking all the blood away from my brain. But I estimated that she was just a bit less than 5'6? tall now. That meant she'd lost nearly a foot in height since the evening began.

Her outfit, by some miracle of architecture, still clung to her frame. Its straps looked like they would desert her shoulders with the slightest provocation. Following along behind her now, I nudged one of them mischievously. Just as I'd hoped, any principles of physics that had been holding her dress up failed. Sylvia turned, a mixture of shock, humor, and lust on her lovely face, and I got my first glimpse of her unclothed. Her skin was creamy and flawless. Her body showed a surprising amount of tone, from a flat stomach with visible definition to subtle projections on her arms and thighs. Her breasts were huge and tear-dropped shaped, and in the instant that she'd spun to look at me they'd bounced in a way that was almost impossibly enticing. I was a bit disappointed to find a pair of silk panties, the same blue as her dress, still hanging to the generous curves of her hips. All in good time, I thought.

?No fair!? she pouted. ?If you're going to undress me....? And with that she began to slowly unbutton my shirt. It took awhile, because in between each button she paused to kiss the portion of my chest she'd exposed. I didn't mind waiting. Her lips felt so warm, so dainty against my flesh. As she worked her way lower however, an issue arouse. The sensual way she was kissing my stomach was really turning me on, and I began to wish I hadn't worn such tight jeans.

Sylvia noticed the uncomfortable bulge in my pants. ?What have we here,? she cooed. ?I wonder what I should do about this.? Her hand cupped my swollen manhood, and she massaged me gently. My moan was so loud that I startled myself, and I took hold of her shoulders for stability. She gave me one last pass with her palm, from tip to base, then abruptly stopped. The whole incident had lasted, at most, three seconds.

?Speaking of no fair,? I groaned. She stood, smirking. With a quick motion she unbuttoned my pants, mercifully relieving some of the pressure. Then she turned, and with her hips swaying majestically, sauntered to the couch.

I followed her quickly, the way a puppy follows its mother. Sylvia had lain down, spread-eagle, arms crossed behind her head. The view was easily one of the most inviting things I'd ever seen. I moved to join her, but she held up one hand to stop me, grinning. ?This is the no-pants couch. Only people who aren't wearing pants are allowed on the no-pants couch.? I laughed, and complied with her request.

I climbed on top of her, letting my body rest on hers. The feeling of our bare flesh pressed together, the soft pillows of her breasts beneath my chest, her lips once more against mine ? if this wasn't heaven, it was as close as I would ever get. We playfully wrestled, just enjoying being so close. Before long my erect member brushed against her womanhood and we thrust together, with only two thin pieces of cloth separating us. We pressed harder, building up steam. Our noises of pleasure mixed together, filling the room with the music of love.

Before long I noticed that my weight was getting a bit uncomfortable for my little lover. I sat up and, lifting her surprisingly light body, pulled her on to my lap. I kissed her again, with a slow, gentle precision, trying to convey the depths of my passion for my beautiful Sylvia. My hand caressed her inner thigh, drawing closer and closer to her sweet honey pot. At last my fingers came to the loose, silky folds of her panties. After a quick trace of anticipation, I stroked her firmly. She purred like a contented kitten, and wrapped her arms around my neck.

Before long her underwear were damp with her juices. With almost no effort I pulled them down and tossed them across the room. With her defenses gone, I began to finger her dripping little pussy in earnest. I teased her outer lips, then ventured inside, and thrust in time with her ragged breathing. She whimpered, and clutched me tighter. I pressed upward into her g-spot for a long moment, then pulled out to massage the hard nub of her clitoris. She bit her lip cutely, her eyes clenched shut. And again I became aware of Sylvia dwindling away. I could just barely feel her tightening around my finger, and if I looked close, I thought I could see her whole body getting smaller. I was beginning to formulate a theory.

Without a doubt, Sylvia was a few steps ahead of me here. Before long she rolled off my lap. The look on her face was diplomatic, almost pleading ? aren't I small enough already? She stood in front of me, and once more I was startled at her loss in height. It was difficult to judge from a sitting position, but she couldn't have been much more than five feet tall now. More evidence to support my hypothesis, I thought with a smile.

Sylvia knelt before me. With the slightest pressure she parted my legs, and began to rub my cock through my boxers. I groaned and leaned back, feeling all my muscles relax as she set to work. The lady was good, no question. The way she used her fingertips to tease me. The way she varied her speed. And she seemed to always know the best place to touch. Before long I was bucking my hips in time with her motion, lost in ecstasy. All the while she looked at me with a condescending smirk on her face. Somehow this made her all the sexier.

Before long she tugged at my underwear. Removing my undergarments was somewhat more difficult for her than removing hers had been for me. I lifted off the couch obligingly, and she slid them down my legs. Now that there was nothing between Sylvia and my rock-hard penis, she attacked me with everything she had. She stroked up and down my shaft while massaging my balls with her other hand. Periodically she'd rub the sensitive spot behind my head with her thumb, and whenever she did this my vision blurred.

She began to lick the sides of my cock, covering me with her hot saliva. By the time she finally took my length into her mouth, my reality was an incoherent mass of pleasure. Her tongue swirled crazily. She swallowed me deep into her throat, and pressed her lips tight against me. That was all I could bear. I came explosively, harder than I ever have in my life. I was scarcely aware that I was gripping her hair in my fists, or that I was howling at the top of my lungs. Sylvia, for her part, gulped down every drop, and managed to smile at me the whole time.

I laid on the couch, gasping for air and feeling my heart pound. The French call it la petite mort ? the little death. For once in my life I understood why. Sylvia crawled into my lap. Her body felt good against mine, soft and warm. She nuzzled my neck, and we cuddled together while I recovered. Meanwhile, I noticed that she was nearly the same height now as she had been when I stopped fingering her. My strength returning, I decided it was time for a test.