GITJ Post 308: Alone in His Apartment

Melissa Monroe, Office Manager of what was once Far Horizons Medical Associates, was alone in the small studio apartment of her boss and new boyfriend. He’d peeled himself off of her, out of bed, about a half hour ago. He’d thought he was being discreet in cleaning his seed from her skin, getting himself ready for work and leaving after an adorable little kiss, all while thinking she was still asleep. So cute! And it made her smile, picturing him working away downstairs while she lazed away in his sheets. It made her feel like a pampered housewife and she giggled, rolling to and fro on his silly little bed. She needed to get down to the office too, but there was no rush.

She had some time to kill, in fact; it’d be a little wait for someone to bring her clothes. So, standing, she stretched herself up and out of bed to her full 6’5” - or 6’6”...she had trouble keeping track haha! - arms reaching up, smiling as she surveyed her work on his ceiling. The “I Love You” was still painted there above. She wriggled her fingers at it playfully. She could almost reach it. Soon.

“I do love you..!” she said to the empty apartment as she lowered her arms, looking around and examining the old little hovel that, yes omg, had so much of him in it. Casually, pulling the hem of his old, overstretched t-shirt down as far as she could over her bare hips - modesty still had its pull - she began to wander around. She ran her finger over the windowsill; the glass had exploded outwards, at least. Woooops haha..! she giggled to herself, We’ll have maintenance come up and fix that this afternoon.

It’s a mess, his place, she began to realize. There was a pile of his dirty clothes in the corner, dishes in the sink, a few old soda cans on the counter. Like a little boy, she couldn’t help but think, he couldn’t keep his apartment tidy. She’d teasingly scold him, she decided, next time she saw him. Tell him to go clean his room.

In the meantime, though, she couldn’t help herself. She began to pick up for him around the apartment a bit, putting away a few things. He had a closet, a small one, and she opened it. She hung a shirt, she smelled his clothes. Ahhhhhhh…! With a deep breath she pulled in the scent of his laundry detergent and, underneath, his smell, sealed into the fabric of them. They did smell like him, if she inhaled deep enough

She wanted more.

She closed his closet, and stepped over to his small dresser of drawers. On it, two new, unopened packages sat on top, three-packs of boxers, one size XS, and one XXS. She giggled. They were new ones, not worn yet; it looked like he just had them delivered.

She opened his top drawer, and found his underwear. With interest, she rustled through it. Mostly “mediums”, a few “smalls”. She shivered, excited not only that he was obviously getting smaller, but that he knew it, and was preparing to get even smaller still. “Oh my godddd…” she cooed and - unable to help herself once again - tore open the top package. “They´re so tiny…” she marveled aloud, sliding out one pair of fresh boxers and stretching them up for inspection. Her large hands made the XS men´s boxers seem so small. She was, in fact, tempted to try them on but haha knew she certainly wouldn't fit inside them. In fact, maybe not even one of her gym-muscular thighs could fit in through the waist; the elastic waistband would have a really hard time encircling her single leg. And this would fit him, around his hips? she realized with wonder, picking up the other, still unopened package, maybe even these smaller ones? He was…he was getting smaller. And she, she knew, was getting simply enormous, HUGE. Her proportions had grown since she’d started working here. This tee-shirt, an oversized college shirt of his from years back, was stretched near to bursting over her new curves. She made adult men’s clothing - like these little undies - look like doll’s clothes. To her these boxers looked like they were for a small child, not something she could even attempt.  But, really, this morning she wasn't looking for something to wear, she was looking for…

“Oh my…” she whispered as she found exactly what she was seeking. She turned her head to the side and saw his pile of dirty laundry in the corner. She crouched down, her bare, muscular thighs bulging, and dug into the very bottom of the pile. Beneath it all she found a used pair of white briefs, size S; even on him they’d be a tight fit. She picked them up as if they were a trophy.

She caressed it with her hands, rubbed it with her fingers, played a little with them. She turned behind herself, making sure she wasn’t haha being watched and then unabashedly rubbed the little briefs to her face. She’d had enough wits about her last night to ask Marisela to turn off the kitchen camera, and was now then able to enjoy a private moment there, just she and his underpants, covering herself with his smell. Satisfied, finally, like a junkie after an early morning hit, she stepped to the living area and - grabbing the purse that she’d thrown into the couch last night - immediately stored the briefs inside. Snapping it shut she felt a little naughty smile grow onto her face, knowing it wasn’t right to steal his clothes. But haha, she decided, a girl’s got needs.

Melissa looked around her boyfriend's apartment again. The pink walls looked good, she thought with pride. She’d still need to gather her clothes, which she’d thrown somewhere, and wait for her new outfit to arrive. The jeans, at least, would have to go back on. In the meantime, she was getting hungry. She stepped back to the little kitchen space, and placed her purse on the table, surveying the crack across the top with another giggle of reminiscence. She’d have to get him a new one, like she’d said.

I can’t wait to make love to you again, little man, she thought, maybe break a few more tables. She giggled in surprise at her own naughty thoughts and opened his fridge…

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