World's Oldest (And Thickest) Cosplayer Giantess/Shrinking & Farts chapter 5 by maximally

Xóchitl’s cheeks kept flexing around Max’s limp body, two sweaty, living pillows grinding him deeper into her steamy crack while the kitchen rang with laughter. The last wet bubble of her breakfast fart oozed out right against his face, hot and sticky and reeking of mole and beans. She gave her hips a smug little wiggle, then let her huipil fall back into place.

 

“Poor little pervertito,” Xóchitl cooed, patting her massive rear. “Abuelita’s big spicy toots knocked you right out, hmm? That’s what you get for sneaking into my tetas.”

 

Still sandwiched between Lillian and Jen at the breakfast table, Blaise looked mortified. “Abuela, seriously, I’m sure he didn’t mean to—”

 

“That’s enough of that, mijo.” Xóchitl clicked her tongue. “Now, what were you children talking about before I came in?”

 

“Storm Valley Anime Con!” Lillian grinned, pulling up a poster on her phone. “We all got weekend passes, and today’s the first day.”

 

“Anime…” Glancing down at Lillian’s phone, Xóchitl squinted. “Con? Blaise, can you explain?”

 

“It’s like a big meetup for people who are into Japanese cartoons and video games,” said Blaise, blushing redder than ever. “Some people dress up, there’s a big costume contest… It’s a whole thing.”

 

“Speaking of costumes,” Cindy piped in, “we never decided who gets to be Sailor Moon.”

 

“Sailor… Moon?” Xóchitl raised both eyebrows. Beside her, Miriam stifled a laugh.

 

“You might have to spell things out a little more, sweetie.” Miriam offered Cindy a knowing smirk. “Mom’s never been big on cartoons.”

 

“Oh, right,” said Cindy, trying to temper her own enthusiasm. “Well, we all agreed to dress up for the con, and we ordered a bunch of Sailor Soldier costumes. They’re a team of… I guess you can think of them as superheroes. But Lillian and Jen both want to be the leader.”

 

“It’s this girl, here,” said Lillian, helpfully gesturing to the heavily distorted picture of Sailor Moon on her crop top.

 

“Oh,” said Xóchitl, crossing her arms. “Blaise, what do you think?”

 

“I don’t know, Abuela,” Blaise sighed, audibly eager to avoid having to decide between his two best friends. “Maybe you should be the tiebreaker?”

 

“You know, that’s not a bad idea…” All at once, Lillian’s eyes lit up with characteristic mischief. “Cindy, you’ve still got Zuemy’s pass, right?”

 

“Yeah,” said Cindy, offering Lillian a wary nod. “I couldn’t get it refunded in time. Why?”

 

“Well… since she can’t make it, and we’ve still got her pass…” Lillian’s eyes sparkled with a familiar devilish glint as she clapped her hands together. “Maybe Blaise’s grandma can be our Sailor Moon!”

 

Blaise swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “What?!”

 

Miriam barely managed to stifle another laugh, shoulders shaking. “Huh?!”

 

Xóchitl blinked, a spark of genuine intrigue lighting her face. “¿Qué?”

 

“Come on, Miss Xóchitl, you’d be perfect!” The more Lillian tried to sell Blaise's grandmother on the idea, the more she seemed to get into it. “I mean, you’ve got the curves for it. The skirt’s super short, the top’s all tight and shiny… you’d look like a total badass moon princess. Please? Pretty please?”

 

Xóchitl’s thick eyebrows shot up as she patted the shelf of her enormous rear where Max’s limp form was still wedged deep between her sweaty cheeks. A slow, amused smile crept across her round face. “Me? Ay, mija. These old hips have never been in a superhero costume before.”

 

Miriam burst out laughing first, slapping the kitchen counter so hard her own thick thighs jiggled. “Oh, Mom, you have to! Just for the story!”

 

Sheila was already wheezing, her planet-sized Brazilian ass wobbling side to side as she doubled over. “Yes! Yes! Do it! I saw the costumes when Lillian ordered them… all those poor little nerds are gonna lose their minds when they see a real Aztec goddess rocking that skirt!”

 

Blaise waved his hands weakly from between Lillian and Jen’s overflowing chests. “Abuela, you really don’t have to—seriously, it’s fine if you just—”

 

“Shush, mijo,” Xóchitl cut him off with a warm chuckle, already intrigued enough that her free hand was absently smoothing the front of her huipil over her heavy breasts. “If my girls want their abuelita to be a superhero, who am I to say no? Besides… it sounds like fun.”

 

Lillian squealed and leapt up from the table, grabbing Xóchitl’s arm. “Yesss! Come on, I’ll show you the costume upstairs. It’s in my room—I got the deluxe one with the real satin gloves and everything!”

 

Before anyone could say a word, Lillian was already dragging the towering GILF toward the stairs, her yoga-pants-clad ass swaying like she was leading a parade. Xóchitl followed, laughing, every heavy step making her monumental cheeks ripple and sending another wave of warm, spicy musk rolling over Max’s knocked-out face.

 

Up in Lillian’s room — walls plastered with posters and anime memorabilia — Lillian flung open her closet and yanked out the plastic-wrapped Sailor Moon costume. “Here! Take your time changing, Miss Xóchitl. It might feel a little tight in some places, but that’s the point!” She winked, then bounded out, slamming the door behind her.

 

Xóchitl hummed to herself, setting her purse on the dresser. She reached back and hiked up the back of her huipil again, giving her cheeks a little shake. “Time to get you out for a second, pervertito. Abuelita needs to squeeze into this silly outfit…”

 

The thin fabric lifted, and a rush of cool air hit Max’s sweat-soaked skin. Suddenly, the pressure vanished. Still half-blacked out from the earlier blast, he slipped free like a tiny, damp rag doll and tumbled straight down to the carpet. Fortunately, a pile of clothes on the floor broke his fall. Unfortunately, it was a pile of Lillian’s used panties and socks.

 

“Oops! Careful, mijo,” Xóchitl cooed, turning around and scooping him up. Max’s head lolled, eyes fluttering open just in time to see the most surreal sight of his shrunken life.

 

Xóchitl had already squeezed herself into the costume. The white leotard was stretched to its absolute limit across her massive D-cups and soft belly, the blue collar and red bow straining so hard it looked like someone had spray-painted them on. The tiny pleated blue skirt barely covered the bottom curve of her enormous ass, riding up with every breath so the thickest part of her cheeks peeked out. Long white gloves hugged her arms, red boots made her calves look even thicker, and her black braid hung over one shoulder. The blonde wig and matching tiara sat a little crooked on her head, but somehow, it all worked. She looked like a fertility goddess cosplaying an anime icon: curvy, powerful, and completely ridiculous in the best way.

 

Max just stared, mouth hanging open, still convinced he was hallucinating from the fart fumes. His tiny cock, traitor that it was, twitched visibly against her palm.

 

Xóchitl noticed immediately, smirking as she tilted her head, letting the short skirt swish against her thighs. “Ay, look at you. Even half-dead from abuelita’s spicy breakfast, you still get all excited seeing me like this? Such a naughty little pervertito.” She gave him a gentle poke in the chest with one gloved finger. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you nice and warm where you belong.”

 

Without another word, she reached back, tugged the leotard and skirt aside, and pressed Max face-first into her still-sweaty crack. Her massive cheeks swallowed him instantly, the thin satin doing nothing to block the heat or the earthy, lingering scent of mole and beans. She shifted her hips, seating him deep until only the faintest outline of his tiny body showed beneath the skirt, then smoothed everything back into place.

 

“Much better,” she murmured, admiring herself in Lillian’s full-length mirror. The Sailor Moon skirt fluttered, her ass clapped once, and she blew herself a kiss. “Now let’s go show the girls.”

 

Downstairs, the reaction was immediate and deafening.

 

“Oh my GOD!” Lillian squealed, nearly dropping her phone.

 

Jen’s jaw actually fell open, her H-cups heaving. “Xóchitl… you look insane. Like, hot-insane.”

 

Cindy pushed her glasses up, blushing furiously. “The boots… the bow… It’s perfect. You’re serving absolute moon princess realness.”

 

Sheila and Miriam were both howling with laughter, tears in their eyes. “I can’t breathe,” Miriam gasped, clutching her massive belly. “You’re gonna be the best Sailor Moon Storm Valley has ever seen, Mom!”

 

Blaise just sat there, face redder than any tomato, staring at his grandmother in the skimpy anime costume while his friends catcalled. “Abuela… I… uh…”

 

“Cute, no?” Xóchitl struck a dramatic pose, one gloved hand on her hip. “It’s tight, alright… but I like it! Makes abuelita feel young again.” She gave her hips a slow, rolling twerk that sent her cheeks clapping loudly around Max’s head. Then, her belly gave another long, ominous groan.

 

 

The Aztec GILF’s latest fart ripped out hot and wet, blasting directly into Max’s open mouth through the thin leotard fabric. Thick, spicy, bean-loaded gas flooded his lungs, making his eyes roll back. The force was so strong it actually pushed the crotch of the Sailor Moon leotard outward for a second before it snapped back, sealing him even tighter against her still-quivering pucker.

 

Xóchitl sighed happily, fanning her skirt behind her like it was nothing. “Ay, these beans are really working today. Good thing I’ll have my little seat cushion to soak them all up.”

 

Blaise looked like he was going to pass out—either from shock or gas exposure. Meanwhile, Miriam, Sheila, Lillian, Jen, and Cindy were all laughing. Xóchitl just adjusted the blonde wig on her head, gave her ass one last proud slap that made Max’s whole world jiggle, and declared, “Alright, let’s go to this anime thing! Abuelita is ready to have some fun.”

 

A few minutes later the whole crew was filing out the front door: Lillian in her own Sailor Mars costume (the red skirt doing nothing to hide her huge ass), Jen as Sailor Jupiter with her crop top barely containing her chest, Cindy as Sailor Mercury looking adorably nerdy, Blaise in a simple Tuxedo Mask jacket that somehow still made him look mortified, and Xóchitl bringing up the rear as the most gloriously overstuffed Sailor Moon in history. Every step made her cheeks clap softly around Max, the short skirt swishing and letting little puffs of warm air escape.

 

Sheila tossed Xóchitl the keys to the big silver minivan. “You drive, Moon Princess! Have fun—and don’t let the girls get into too much trouble!”

 

Xóchitl slid into the driver’s seat with a happy sigh, her monumental ass spreading across the leather and pressing Max even tighter into the stinky abyss beneath the Sailor Moon leotard. She adjusted the rearview mirror, gave her hips one last little wiggle that ground him deeper, and turned the key.

 

Max, trapped once again in the sweltering, fragrant darkness of Xóchitl’s ass with the faint scent of her breakfast still clinging to every breath, could only squirm helplessly as the van rolled forward. The convention was still an hour away, and Xóchitl’s belly was already gurgling again.

 

*

 

By the time Lillian, Jen, Cindy, Blaise and Xóchitl made it downtown, the Storm Valley Convention Center was absolutely packed. Thousands of fans in every kind of cosplay swarmed the entrance — catgirls, mecha pilots, and plenty of Sailor Scouts — but none of them turned heads the way Xóchitl did in Lillian’s borrowed costume.

 

An hour stuck in traffic hadn’t done a thing to loosen up her costume. Xóchitl’s heavy D-cups spilled out of the white leotard, dark areolas half-visible every time she took a breath. The pleated skirt was a total joke, riding up with every step and showing off the full, sweaty, jiggling shelf of her ass—and the tiny black thong that had long since vanished between her cheeks. Max was still trapped tight under the crotch panel, face mashed right up against her puckered asshole, arms pinned, legs kicking uselessly. Every waddle she took just ground his nose and mouth deeper into the hot, sweaty ring, smearing fresh ass-sweat all over his face.

 

“Ay, so many pretty costumes!” Xóchitl clapped her hands, making her tits bounce and squishing Max even deeper. “Look at all the little anime people! Blaise, mijo, you have to explain everything to abuelita.”

 

Lillian grinned and waved the group forward like an excited tour guide. “C’mon, the check-in line’s this way! Zuemy’s pass will get you straight through, Miss Xóchitl.” She led the charge with her usual bouncy stride, Sailor Mars skirt swishing around her own huge ass, while Jen, Cindy, and a mortified Blaise trailed behind.

 

The second the towering Aztec GILF waddled up to the entrance, every head within fifty feet snapped in her direction. Within minutes, a crowd had formed. Phones came out. “Holy shit, that’s the thickest Sailor Moon ever!” “Can we get pics?” “Dude, her ass is massive!”

 

Xóchitl beamed, still completely clueless about Sailor Moon but loving the sudden flood of attention anyway. “Ay, of course! Come, come!” she laughed warmly, striking pose after pose—hands on her wide hips and chest thrust proudly forward so her overflowing breasts jiggled dangerously, then turning around, bending slightly at the waist, and letting the short skirt flip all the way up to expose the full, clapping expanse of her gigantic cheeks. The crowd went wild, cheering and snapping photos while Xóchitl giggled and chatted in her thick accent, serenely ignoring the struggles of the shrunken man in her ass.

 

For Max, every movement was a personal earthquake. Each time Xóchitl shifted her weight or struck another pose, her massive cheeks clenched and rolled around him, grinding him even harder against her asshole. He could only pray she’d remember he was down there before the next round of beans hit.

 

After nearly fifteen minutes of nonstop photos — and several very bold fans asking if the Moon Princess would sit on their faces — the group finally managed to squeeze through check-in. Lillian flashed Zuemy’s pass; the flustered attendant barely managed to stamp them all in without drooling, and they were inside the bustling convention hall.

 

“Okay, Miss Xóchitl,” said Lillian, turning to her best friend’s grandmother with a big grin. What do you wanna do next? There’s a big panel starting soon, or we could hit the dealer’s room, or… honestly, whatever you’re feeling!”