Pecs, chests and lots of...
-
Text (sorry
)So I love the image of a tiny lady on a man’s chest; sitting, reclining, lying down, just relaxing. They might each be doing their own thing, or he could be holding up a book or his phone so they can both share some leisurely activity. There are lots of great images out there with some take on that general idea - you could say it’s a bit of a classic scene.
As someone who sympathises with the tiny’s perspective, I like to think about the other sensory experience of being on a giant’s chest - the magnified texture of his shirt or skin, the whisper-roaring sound of his breath, the bassline rhythm of his heartbeat…other such wonderous things a tiny might pick up in such intimacy.
I like to daydream on my personal favourite: the sculpted mounds of a man’s pectorals. A tiny running her little hands over her surroundings, feeling and admiring their firmness. It’s a weird juxtaposing consistency of a soft solid and a solid softness, a muscle flexed but not tense. If the giant is feeling a bit cheeky, he’d press her into him, make sure she gets a more holistic experience of him; his finger on her back, holding her down, her entire body smushed into just a miniscule patch of his skin in comparison. She might squirm in a panic (or pretend to be in one) but he won’t budge, enjoying the feeling of her helplessness far too much to let the opportunity go.
It could go a few different ways from there, but I just wanted to focus on that initial contact. Also just wanted to send some appreciation to men’s chests : )
-
@miss-lillipants You got my nips all perky.
-
Playfully tumbling down each pectoral like a grassy hill. Feeling the soft texture of his cotton shirt that’s saturated with his scent soothes me like no other. Big appreciation for men’s chest
-
-
@SmolChlo said in:
Playfully tumbling down each pectoral like a grassy hill. Feeling the soft texture of his cotton shirt that’s saturated with his scent soothes me like no other. Big appreciation for men’s chest
“Hills and mounds, joy abounds.” -Arrietty, probably
-
When it comes to holding a woman, I prefer enough size that I can feel her, and I don’t have to worry about squashing her if I squeeze a little.
When it comes to a woman exploring me, however, I prefer that to be a bit more literal. Micro/macro, woman walking on a chest that isn’t just big, it’s enormous. Bigger than a house, bigger than a city, a living country in it’s own right.
I want to be so overwhelmingly more that I cease to be understandable and become an alien landscape.
-
Love the perspective
I imagine if I were to cuddle with a tiny, she’d shrink right into my chest, and I’d be able to hold her against me. Fun to think about scenarios both if she’s tucked into my t-shirt with her head sticking out or if I’m shirtless and she’s just exploring my body and finds warmth under my hand and chest. Ditto on the slice of life stuff where she’s watching a show with me or we’re just vibing and talking to one another and slowly feeling how each other feels to each other as we relax. These kinds of images are also motivating for me to work on my body as it’d be nice to be seen as “sexy” - I never had that feeling in a conventional sense, but I understand it when I imagine a tiny woman admiring me. Maybe she even shrinks as she feels so… weak? or womanly? in comparison to what I am to her, under my hands, feeling my heartbeat. I really enjoy giving a tiny that feeling of safety and comfort.
