Chapter 2

It was a challenge setting up possibilities over the weekend.  By Monday morning, I had my proposal put together.  I drove out to the Yoders’ after calling ahead to Mr. Yoder’s cell number.

When I got there, Sarah was already waiting outside.  The clothes she wore were smaller on her, and she came further up the barn.  She had, indeed, grown more than a foot in height in the last three days.  I got out of may car, carrying a laptop case.

Sarah actually ran toward me, which meant, at her height, that the gap was closed in about five strides.

“Mr. Bell,” Sarah said, beaming down at me, “it’s good to see you.”

“And you, Miss Yoder,” I said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Well,” she said.  “Bigger, but well.  And you?”

“Well as well,” I said. Seeing her father approach, I said, “Howdy, Mr. Yoder.”

“Howdy,” said Yoder.  “You well?”

“I am indeed,” I said.  “And you?”

“Well enough,” he said.  He looked up at Sarah.

“Let’s head to the barn,” she said.  Leaning down, she placed her hands in front of us.  “Would either of you like a ride there?”

While I wanted a ride, I looked to Yoder.  As head of an Amish household, this was his call.

Yoder nodded, a slight smile on his face.  “Go ahead,” he said.  “I’ll catch up.”

I stepped onto a hand that was nearly as long as I was tall.  I smiled up at Sarah.  “Ready when you are,”  I said.

Sarah lifted me up, taking her time so the momentum wouldn’t knock me flat.  She held me up to her shining blue eyes.  As she did, I could see they were slightly larger than three days earlier.

The huge smile grew larger.  “Not a flinch,” she said.  “You trust me.”

“Yes,  I do,”  I said.  “I hope I’m worthy of your trust, too.”

Sarah smiled coyly -- flirtatiously, I thought.  “We’ll see,” she said.  “Let’s go.”  In a few strides she was at the barn door, ducking to get in.

Sarah placed me on the loft, then sat on her mound of straw.  It was even more apparent she was bigger now.  Her head was higher in relation to me, and her top was clearly even tighter.  She was right; her breasts were growing faster than the rest of her.

“So, what’s your proposal?” Sarah asked.

“First things first,” I said. “you’re just under forty-three-foot-eight right now, right?”

Sarah looked to her father, who had just entered the barn.  He apparently had heard the question.  “He’s right,” Yoder said.

“Very good,”  Sarah said, looking at me.  “How did you know?”

“Simple math -- well, maybe not simple math, but easy enough,” I said.  “That confirms your growth rate.”

I took a dep breath.  “Miss Yoder, Mr. Yoder, what I am going to propose is pretty radical, but I’ve used some contacts to put things in place that we can make things happen if you agree.”

“Miss Yoder, you’re going to need a method of getting into the world, and doing it credibly.  I can get a representative of the authoritative book of world records, as well as representatives of the broadcast, print and Internet media, here to verify the situation.  That will be a media event, and one sure to draw international attention to your plight and your message.”

“A media event,” said Yoder, standing like he was saying a bad word.

“But that’s only part of what I’m proposing,”  I said.

“Go on,” Sarah said.

“You’re going to need someone to look out for your interests in the English world,”  I said, “someone who knows the ins and outs of things in the media and can mange how you appear.”

I took another deep breath.  “I’m proposing that person be me.”

“Will your job let you do that?” Sarah asked.

“I would quit my job,” I said. “Working with you and for you would be my job.”

“How would you get  paid?” Yoder asked.

“Once word about Sarah is out, media outlets will be cloring to book her -- and willing to pay to do so,” I said. “I would take a percentage of those fees.  The standrad set up varied from 5 to 20 percent.  The majority of the money will be Miss Yoder’s.

“But there is another consideration.  Aside from leaving the community, some of the offers you would get -- I venture top say, will get -- will involve dressing in ways that are anything but plain.  Some offers might well involve not being dressed at all.

“You would be free to accept or reject any deal.  Personally, I plan to reject any offers involving nudity unless I hear differently from you.  But much of what the English world considers dressed leaves very little to the imagination.”

“Such as?” Sarah asked.

I pulled out the laptop and clicked on an image file.  “This is a bikini swimsuit,”  I said, handing it to Sarah.

The giantess blushed on seeing it.  “Oh, my!” she said.  She looked at her father, who simply shook his head, before handing the laptop back to me.

“As I said, you would be free to accept or reject any offer,” I said.  “My job would be to negotiate the deals and work to get you before people inb a way that presents you and your message most clearly -- as well as aming sure we’re keeping you accommodated.”

Sarah looked down to her father, who was still on the barn floor.  “Papa, what do you think?”

Yoder paused for a moment.  “I don’t like it,” he said, “but I think it may be the best thing we can do for you.”

Sarah nodded, then looked up to me. “Mr. Bell, I would like to hire you,” she said.  “When can you start?”

“Today,” I said.  “I’ll get the arrangements made.  Oh, and people in my position are usually called by their first names by the people they represent, so call me ‘Wesley’ or ‘Wes.’”

“Very well, Wes,”  Sarah said, standing up.  An you can call me Sarah -- is that allowed?”

“It’s not only allowed, it’s common,” I said.  “Thank you, Sarah.”

“Thank you, Wes,” Sarah said.

“I have a contract in the car, if that’s appropriate,” I said.

“It is,” Yoder said.

Sarah carried me to the car.  I got out a contract written in inch-high letters on a roll of newsprint.

Sarah’s jaw dropped.  I can read this,” she said.

“You need to so you can sign it,” I said.

Tears were streaming down Sarah’s face.  “It’s been months since I’ve seen anything with big enough  print for me to read,” she said.

“Well, take your time and read through it,” I said.

After she got through the contract,  I handed Sarah an eighteen-inch-long giant pen.  It looked like a small pencil stub in her hand.  She signed the contract, and I did the same.

“I’ll get things set up and I’ll be in touch,” I said.

Sarah kneeled down beside me, lowering her head near me.  “May I?” she asked.  I couldn’t tell who she was asking.

Yoder nodded. Sarah kissed me with lips as big as my whole head.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said.  “Wait ‘til the event is done first.”  Then  I said my goodbyes.

I didn’t stop blushing until I was everal miles down the road.  My heart raced for a few miles beyond that.

Chapter 3

Unfortunately, it took most of my two weeks notice to get the details set up.  It wasn’t until the second weekend of October that I could get the records book people there.  I hated that it was a weekend, but hoped the story would still get good play.

I visited with Sarah every day in the meantime, seeing her creep closer and closer to the peak of the barn.  By my math, she wasn’t going to be taller than the barn when the reocrds people got there -- but she would be two days later.

It was Friday, the day before the event.  If anything, Sarah was becoming more lovely and voluptuous with every passing inch -- and she was now growing nearly six inches a day.

It was getting dark.  Sarah, now 49 feet tall, was holding me up to her face, something she was doing more and more often.

“Now, tomorrow’s the big day,” I said.  “After this, we’ll have a consultant in to check out your physique -- your body type -- to see what we can do for clothes for you.”

I looked into Sarah’s massive eyes.  “Are you ready for this?” I asked.

She started to tear up, shaking her head.  “No,” she said, “but we need to.  This place is becoming too tiny -- really tiny.”

“I understand,” I said.  “This is -- no pun intended -- a huge change, and it’s been forced on you to some extent.”

“Yes,” said Sarah, “but God gave me a gift to help get me through this.  He gave me you.”

Sarah kissed me for what was now the second time.  There was no mistaking that her lips were bigger.  While my heart raced with the kiss, this time I didn’t blush.

“Thank you,” Sarah said.

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Now, I think you have some company here.”

Instinctively, Sarah looked to the barn door.  “Mama!  Papa!” she said,, then turned and looked at me.

“With what’s coming tomorrow, I thought you should have some time together tonight.  Your brothers and sisters and their families are on their way, too,” I said.

Sarah’s eyes widened as tears flowed.  We both knew that Sarah’s path meant she would be leaving behind the Amish was of life -- which meant that, after tonight, none of her family could ever have contact with her again.

Sarah lifted me back to her lips.  “You dear, sweet man,” she said, and kissed me again.

As she put me down, I said, “Have a good night.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Yoder stopped me on the way out and took me just outside the barn door.

“I doubt I’ll have time to tell you this tomorrow, but thank you,“ Yoder said.  “You’re taking care of my little girl under extraordinary circumstances.  I’ll probably never get a chance to say it again, but I appreciate it.”

Yoder offered his hand, and I took it.  “Im glad to do it, sir.  It’s an honor,” I said.

“You take good care of her,” he said.

“I can do nothing else,” I said.

Realization seemed to dawn on Yoder.  He suddenly knew why I was doing what I was doing, and he showed it in his expression.  Beaming for the first time since we’d met, he said, “Yes, I believe you will.  You know, I think she may be right about you.  You may just be a gift God has given her.”

“I’m the one who got the gift in her, sir,” I said.  “I just hope to be worthy, and I’ll work to do it.”

He patted my hand, and we parted as he returned to the barn.

The next morning, Sarah was nervous.  She was a few inches taller than the previous night, and was really beginning to feel claustrophobic waiting in a barn in which she could no longer stand up straight.

With no noon noewscasts, we had timed the records person’s visit and media coverage for mid-afternoon.  As I was waiting with Sarah, I could see her height increasing.  She was growing about a quarter of an inch and hour now, and her outfit -- the last made for her by the Amish women -- had gone from a good fit Friday morning to being slightly snug by Saturday afternoon.

The reporters and record book representative were obviously confused on arrival.  I stalled them until everybody I knew was coming was actually there, then made the big announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the biggest person in the world!” I said dramatically.

Crouching into almost a crawl, Sarah emerged from the barn to gasps and frantic alls to their camera people to, “Pan up!  Pan UP!”

As planned, Sarah sat down on the grass, identified herself, spelled her name and explained the situation.  She answered questions until I thought they were getting repetitive.  Then I stepped in.

“Here’s the thing,”  I said.  “Miss Yoder has grown so large that she can  no longer function in the Amish world.  She needs help from the outside for basics like clothing and shelter.  And she is available for interviews and photos.”

While Sarah was getting measured by the records people, I gave out our contact information.

The word came back:  Sarah was now 49 feet, 6 inches tall;  her waist measured 14-foot-10;  her hips, 22-foot-6; and her bustline a whopping 36-foot-8.

Soon everyone was leaving.  The media were going to file their stories.  But I was surprised the records people were leaving so soon.

“But can’t you stay for a few hours?” I asked.  “She is still growing, and it would help to document that.”

Lou Ann, the woman from the records book, looked up at Sarah, who was sitting nearby.  “As big as she is, I believe you,” she said.  “But I’ve got another record to verify in Chicago, and this took so long I’m running late.  I’ll be back in the area Monday.  I’ll measure her then.”

“In the next 48 hours, she’ll grow a full foot,” I said.

Lou Ann looked up at Sarah, who waved.  Then the records book woman leaned in to me and whispered, “Does she know you’re in love with her?”

“Is it that obvious?” I asked.

“From down here, yes,”  Lou Ann answered.  “From up there, who knows?  Look, kid, you’re doing a great job here.  I’ll check with my people, too.  Hang in there.”  And then she left.

Sarah leaned back against the barn.  “I’m glad they’re gone,” she said.

“Me, too,”  I said.  “Still, be ready for it.  Even though I’ve got Sunday marked as a day off for the Sabbath, the national media may try to track us down out here.”

“What about the clothes person?” Sarah asked.

“She’s coming Monday,” I said.

“Will you come to see me tomorrow?” Sarah asked.

“Sure,: I said.  “I’ll be here after church.”

Suddenly Sarah began to sob, and I knew how the White Rabbit felt when confronte3d by Alice’s tears.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” the giantess sniffled.  “It’s just that … tomorrow is meeting Sunday and, after today, I can’t go and nobody can come here.  I’m going to be all alone for the morning on meeting Sunday.”

I’m so thick! I thought.  I knew the Amish alternated between a meeting Sunday and a visiting Sunday.  I hadn’t taken Sarah’s needs into account. By tomorrow afternoon she would be a 50-foot woman, and she would be all alone on a day that she shouldn’t be alone.

“Sarah, I’m sorry,” I said, touching her ankle.  “I didn’t think about that.  And I can’t thinbk of any better was to worship tomorrow than here, with you.”

She looked down at me.  “You’d do that for me?”

I’d do anything for you, I thought.  I said, “Gladly.”

Suddenly Sarah caught her breath.  Her cheeks flushed for just a moment.  “Oh, my,” she said.

“What is it?” I asked.

Sarah’s left hand came down to hewr breasts as her right reached down to me.  Her index finger caressed my cheek.  “You’re so much smaller since we met -- to me, anyway,” she said.  “Yet you’ve become the biggest man in my life … In some ways, the biggest man I’ve ever known.”

I shrugged.  “Just doing my job,” I said.

Sarah carefully stretched out on the ground, putting her head on her crossed arms right in front of me.  “No, you’re not,” she said in a tone I’d been longing to hear.  “You’re doing much more.  Why are you doing so much more?”

I looked at the colossal lips, lips that had kissed me now three times.  I yearned to find a way to kiss them that would have meaning.  I walked over to them … and caressed them with my hands.

Sarah closed her eyes, a look of pleasure crossing her face.  Then she opened them again and looked at me.  “Oh,” she said, smiling.  “That’s why.”

“I don’t know all your customs, just some,” I said.  “I don’t know what I can safely do or say.”

“Your touch said it,” Sarah said.  “Your desire to please me said it.  And, the truth is, I started feeling that way toward you by bthe second time we met.”

“I beat you by one day,” I said, holding up my right index finger.

Sarah shifted her right hand free.  Her fingertip caressed my face again.  “Wes,” she said.  “Stay with me this evening.”

“Just for the evening, yes,” I said.

Sarah gingerly scooped me up in her ever-growing hand.  “Now,” she said, We’re going in my barn.  I’m going to lie down on my bed.  First, you’re going to rub my lips, like you did a few moments ago.  Then we’re going to figure out a way to kiss each other at the same time.”

Even if I’d wanted to resist, I couldn’t have.  “Yes, miss,” I said.

I left shortly after 10 p.m. We had kissed and caressed each other’s faces that night -- nothing more.  Nothing more was needed at this stage.

I was at the barn at sunrise Sunday.  Sarah greeted me.  We worshipped together in a makeshift service and spent the rest of the day talking between deals I was forced to negotiate.

At the end of a long day, I went home.  Sarah now stood about as tall as her barn home, and she was still growing.

When Lou Ann arrived mid-morning Monday, Sarah stood 50-foot-2.  Her waist was 15-foot-1, her hips 23 feet even and her bust 37-foot-8.  Everything else on her body had grown by 2 percent in two days, but her breasts had grown just slightly more.

After the measurements, Lou Ann said, “You know, we have records museums in Canada and Florida.  I’ve checked.  We’d be glad to have Sarah there.”

“Maybe after the initial rush,”  I said.  “We’ve got gigs -- paying gigs, which is what she needs right now.  Most are providing her some clothes she can keep.”

“Well, it’s standing offer,” Lou Ann said.  She looked up at Sarah, then pointed to me.  “He’s a cutie, isn’t he?”

Sarah chuckled and nodded.

“She feels the same way you do,” Lou Ann said to me.  “Lucky dog.”

By afternoon, fashion expert Ariadne Wombaugh had arrived to work on determining the clothes that would be most flattering to Sarah’s body type.  I was sent out of the barn for the first part of that process.

While I waited outside, I checked emails and returned phone calls.  In the midst of a lot of junk, there were a few legitimate offers, including one that would potentially make Sarah a superstar.  But it might take her out of her comfort zone, even though it wouldn’t involve what the English call nudity.

Ariadne opened the barn door.  “Wesley, she would like you to come in, please, and I’d like you to see this.”

For an instant I was afraid.  Did they find something that would be a danger to Sarah, something that would be even more dangerous than her condition?

I walked in to see Sarah with her hair down.  It was blonde and straight  and appeared to be growing in the same way as the rest of her body.  It was, as with everything else about her, beautiful.

Her clothes were off -- the first time I’d ever seen Sarah without her Amish clothes -- but she was strategically covered with large pieces of canvas.  Her upper chest was covered, as was her pelvic area.

Sarah tipped her head up.  “Hi, Wes,” she said.

I couldn’t help grinning.  Big as she was, she was cute at that moment.


Ariadne was standing by Sarah’s midsection.  “Here’s what I wanted to show you,”  the stylist said, beaming.  “Look!  Look at these wonderful abs!”

I looked.  There was no doubt about it.  Sarah’s midriff was totally ripped.

“And these magnificent breasts!” Ariadne continued.  She turned to Sarah.  “You say they’re growing faster than the rest of you?”

“Yes,” said Sarah.  “My teats have gone from being almost nothing to things that look like small melons to me, at my size.  And these melons keep growing.”

Ariadne shook her head.  “Wes, this woman would be magnificent, even at normal size.  Her bottom is so petite for her height, her legs are proportionally long and that face!  That hair!  She’s going to be a gem to work with.”

“But, Aridane, she’s growing so fast,” I reminded her.  “Bu this time tomorrow, she’ll be six inches taller.  Soon it will be seven inches a day, then eight.”

Ariadne flapped her hand down and vocalized a “Pfff!” sound.  “Her growth rate is stable, yes?  We can plan for this.  She will look spectacular in almost anything.  I will be glad to work with her.”

I nodded.  “Great!  But I need to talk about an offer with Sarah now, if I may.  This one’s pretty urgent.”

“Of course.  I will make some calls and be right back in,” Ariadne said as she pivoted and left the barn.

Making sure to keep her breasts covered, Sarah sat up.  “What is it, Wes?”

“OK,”  I said.  “We have an offer from the biggest sports magazine in the country.  They do an annual swimsuit issue, and they’ve asked to have you be one of their models.”

“Me?” Sarah asked.

I nodded.  “Even before seeing you abs, there’s no denying you have a body that a lot of men would like to see in a swimsuit. -- and that’s why this magazine sells its swimsuit issue.  Men would be ogling your pictures in swimsuits like the one I showed you on my laptop.”

Sarah tilted her head flirtatiously.  “I don’t think I’d fit them,” she said.

I laughed.  “Obviously, they’d be scaled-up versions,”  I said.  “Actually, Ariadne could help with that.”

“We are paying her, right?” Sarah asked.

I nodded.  But this photo shoot would be a paying gig -- a well-paying gig, especially if you wind up on the cover.  And I would think they’d want you on the cover.

“And the magazine is willing to pay to have you brought to where they’re shooting.  The bad thing is, it’ll either have to be in a train car or the back of a semi trailer.  “You’re too big for any other transport.”

Sarah tilted her head to the right, her loose hair falling over her shoulder sexily.  “What do you think I should do?” she asked.

I took a deep breath, in part because this was the hottest I had ever seen the woman I loved look.  “I think you need to decide,”  I said.  “This would be a lot of money and would get us off to a fantastic start -- and would get you out of the dangers of cold weather.  But it’s a clear break with your Amishness.”

Sarah nodded, causing the golden waterfall of her hair to ripple even in the dim light of the barn.  “Is there anything else that would help us as much as this would?” she asked.

“Frankly, no,” I said.  “Especially not when they see those abs.”

Sarah chuckled.  “Then let’s do it,” she said.

“I’ll get the ball rolling,” I said, starting to turn to leave the barn.

Then a realization struck me and I turned back.  “Sarah,” I said, “Has any man seen your hair before?”

Sarah took a deep breath, making her mounds briefly even more prominent.  Then she shook her head, sending the golden waterfall into ripples.  “You’re the first,” she said.

I knew what that meant.  In the Amish tradition, only one man saw a woman’s hair down without her bonnet.  That man was her husband.

“I’m honored,” I said.  “Are you … sure about this?”

“Yes,” she said.  “Are you?”

My joy bubbled over into a laugh.  “Absolutely!” I said.

“Does that mean --”

“Let me be clear,” I said, getting down on one knee, dirt floor in the barn and all.  “Sarah Yoder, will you marry me?”


She scooped me up and held me to her enormous bosom, still covered by the canvas.  “Oh, yes!  Yes!  Yes!”  Sarah said.  Then she pulled me up to her lips and kissed my face.  I managed to get my lips to her lower lip and kissed back.

She pulled me back.  “I felt that!” she said.  “You kissed my lip and I felt it!”  She hugged me to her cheek.

After the initial fervor of the moment, I asked, “When are we going to do this?”

Suddenly Sarah looked worried.  “It should be soon,”  she said, “before I’m … too big.”

The elation I’d felt earlier was stripped away as my heart sank.  Sarah was right.  If she kept growing, sooner or later she would be too big for us to have any relationship -- and her growth had no end in sight.

“Right,” I said.  “I’ll get some arrangements made.”  I turned to go out to Ariadne, then turned back again.  “Hey, lady,”  I said.  “I love you.”

Sarah bit her lip, then smiled.  “Oh, I love you, too,” she said.

I went out to Ariadne, who had a puzzled look on her face.  “What was going on in there?” she asked.

I gave her a quizzical look.

“A few minutes ago I heard her yell, ‘Yes!  Yes!  Yes!’ very passionately,” Ariadne said.

“Oh! That,” I said.  “We’re engaged.  You heard her answer to the proposal.”

“Congratulations!” Ariadne said.  “Good luck finding a diamond big enough.”

I smiled.  “Fortunately, the Amish don’t do engagement rings,” I said.

Chapter 5

Sarah’s accommodations for the trip were an open-topped semi trailer with a tarp stored inside and lots of cushions.  I drove behind in my car while a professional driver got Sarah there.

I knew from the plans we would be arriving well in advance of the planned photo shoot, but there were other events set to take place in between, and the photo shoot was going to be a stretch.

Because of Sarah’s size and physical needs, we stopped at night, adding time to the trip.  I would join her in the trailer with the tarp on, enjoying the advantages of being married.

I quickly realized that there were new ways for me to gauge Sarah’s growth.  I could tell from one night to the next that her nipples were enlarging, and I was having to put a just a little bit more of torso into her private parts each night to reach her “sweet spot.”

We arrived at our new home just as Sarah hit 60 feet tall.  She was now growing well over seven inches a day, and the acceleration of her growth was picking up.

Home was a converted dirigible hangar off an old airfield.  The building had 200-foot ceilings and was about 500 feet long.

On arriving, Sarah spotted the most prominent pieces of furniture -- a sofa with cushions 30 feet off the ground and movie theater screen set up to project TV shows.

“Oh, my!” Sarah said.  “Look, Wes!  A sofa I actually have to climb onto!”

I smiled at her youthful joy, but a corner of me was sad.  I knew what Sarah had to know -- that, all too soon, the sofa would be small to her.

Bed was a section of the room with a huge mattress, 200 feet by 200 feet.  There was a sheet made from sewn-together parachutes and a blanket that appeared to be made of heavy canvas.

Sarah was holding the blanket.  “This material is so fine,” she said.

I chuckled.  To her huge fingers, the canvas would feel soft, and the silk of the parachutes would be amazing.

The next four weeks were a blur of interviews, photo shoots and glorious sex.  Sarah even landed a part as a giantess in a science fiction movie.  We had to warn them since filming wouldn’t start until January, just how big she would be.

Through it all, Sarah’s growth kept speeding up.  She was still growing only one percent of the previous day’s height each day, but that amount meant she was skyrocketing up.

Sarah’s photo shoot was actually set for the day after Thanksgiving.  She was now 80 feet tall, and growing more than 9 ½ inches each day.

Sex was becoming an increasing challenge as my wife increased.  I was now up to my shoulders inside her and beginning to have trouble reaching those sensitive spots with my toes.

Surprisingly, Sarah could still tell when I’d come, even if it happened at a time when my body wasn’t giving her the usual cues.  It thrilled her when it happened.  I noticed that her outplay with me was becoming more delicate.  I wasn’t much bigger than a mouse to her, and she didn’t want to break me.

Meanwhile, I was changing, too.  I realized along the way that I was getting ripped, and then adding more and more muscle to my frame, despite the fact that I wasn’t exercising any more than before.

I soon realized that it was the sex.  Part of it was undoubtedly the sheer rigor of my sexual workouts; to satisfy Sarah in any one small area was, for me, a full-body workout.  But I believe it was also the nature of vaginal sex for us, that the constant coating of my skin in her juices was adding pounds of muscle to my frame, making it grow.

Sarah had, of course, noticed my own growth.  She loved it, especially since my “shtucka,” as she called it, had grown larger as well.

It was also during this month that I learned that Sarah hadn’t menstruated since she started growing.  She was embarrassed when I asked her about when her period was due to start and resisted talking -- a strange experience when the then-79-foot-tall Sarah was intimidated by a man less than a thousand times her size when all three dimensions were considered.

“Sarah,” I finally said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sarah sniffled.  “A woman is supposed to bear children for her husband,” she said.  “I was afraid that, if you knew, you …”

“That I might not marry you,” I said.

Tears running down her cheeks, Sarah nodded.

I climbed the stairs that were built for me into Sarah’s sofa, which now fit her well.  “Dear, don’t you know better than that?  I married you because I love you, remember?”

Sarah looked at me, giving me the biggest “doe eyes” the workd had ever seen to that point.

“Besides,” I said, “I kind of figured we couldn’t have kids anyway.  Do you know how far my semen would have to travel to impregnate you?  I don’t think it could last that long.”

Sarah was still crying, but now she was smiling.  “Oh, I do love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I said.  “Man I wish I could hug you.”

Sarah’s smile was tinged with the emotions that cam with the 80-ton gorilla of her growth.  “I wish you could, too,” she said.  “But I can still hug you.”  She gingerly scooped me up in one hand and gently pressed me to her left breast.

I smiled.  “That will do nicely,” I said.

After a few minutes, Sarah pulled back her hand.  Her breasts were so full, big and firm now that I simply stood atop the one I’d been hugged to.  Then I started chuckling.

“What?” Sarah said.

“You are so Amish,” I said.

Sarah cocked her head in mock anger.  “And what’s wrong with being Amish?”

“Absolutely nothing,” I said.  “I fell in love with an Amish girl, remember?”

Sarah gave me one of her dangerously sexy looks.  “Just don’t forget that,” she said.

“Not a chance,” I said.

Sarah was actually a bit confused by the Thanksgiving holiday.  We hadn’t even messed with Halloween, but a Thanksgiving celebration made no sense to her.

“We should give thanks to God every day,” Sarah said.  “I do.”

I hadn’t missed Halloween particularly, but I was missing Thanksgiving a little -- until my mom and brothers arrived with the meal.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It sounded like this was important to you,” Sarah said.  ‘I got Will at the photo shoot last week to call Josiah.  He called your mom and made the arrangements.”

“I love you,” I said.  “Thank you.”

“I love you, too,” Sarah said.

Mom was looking stunned.  That wasn’t really surprising; Sarah was about 20 feet taller than at our wedding, only a month earlier.

“It’s good to see you, Sarah,” Mom yelled.  “You’re looking … well.”

“Mom, she can hear you fine,” I said.  “You don’t need to shout.”

Sarah knelt down.  “I’m fine, Mother Bell,” she said.  “And, yes, I’m a lot bigger.  I’m afraid the growing is still picking up speed.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” Mom said.  “You know we love you.”

“I know,” Sarah said.

“I’ve never seen Wes happier than since he met you,” Mom said.  “No matter how big you get, you’ll never be as big as the good you’ve done him.”

Sarah’s eyes started to fill with tears.  “May I give you a hug?”

Mom gave a nervous but willing shrug.  “Sure,” she said.

Sarah gingerly scooped Mom up and held her to her cheek.  “Now I see where your wonderful son gets it from,” my wife said.  Then she gently put Mom down.

Mom beamed at me.  “Wow!” she said.  “That was … fun!”

Most of us ate, but not Sarah.  It wasn’t a religious issue.  It was days, if not weeks, before Sarah would need to eat again; her metabolism was slowing as she grew ever larger.  Besides, she was so big that joining in the meal with so many normal-sized people would have been impractical.

Mom made sure to get another “fun hug” before she left.  After my family had gone to their motel, I looked at my wife.

Sarah was now growing so fast that there were moments when I could see her breasts or  nipples -- the fastest growing parts of her -- get slightly bigger.  She was already growing 19 inches every 48 hours -- and, as big as she was now, that was going to start increasing rapidly.

I had told Sarah what I had seen.  Now she took advantage of it.

“Darling,” Sarah said, “I need your help.”

“What is it, dear?” I said.

Sarah sighed, sending her mounds -- as big as many house’s rooms -- heaving.  “I’m afraid my nipples are having growing pains,” she said.

I chuckled.  “Growing pains,” I repeated.

“She nodded slowly, sensuously.  “Yes, growing pains,” she said.  “I need someone to rub them, massage them.”

“Um, won’t that make them grow more?” I asked.

Sarah shook her head, making ripples in the golden waterfall.  Her eyes looked big (for her face), innocent and irresistible.

“No. silly, that won’t make them grow,” she said.  “It’ll just make them stand up.  And you know what happens when they stand up?”

“You get aroused?” I asked.

“Well, yes, that, too,” Sarah said.  “You said earlier you wanted to hug me.  “Well, you can hug my nipples -- and, believe me, I will feel hugged.”

I chuckled.  “Well,” I said, “let’s see what we can do about those growing pains.”

Chapter 6

Sarah rode to the swimsuit photo shoot in the same trailer we had moved to California in.  It was impossible not to

notice how much smaller it was for her now.  She could no longer stretch to her full length lying down inside it.

Ariadne had provided a thigh-length robe for Sarah.  She was wearing one of the swimsuits for the shoot underneath.  I could see her discomfort with it, but she had opened up considerably when she saw my undeniable delight at the sight of my gorgeous wife in a sexy bikini.

I rode in the trailer with Sarah on the way to the beach.  I realized we were riding that I could see her breasts getting bigger.  In fact, they added about two inches during the ride.  I could see that Sarah was aware of it, too.

“I hope I don’t grow out of some of these tops before I’m done with them,” Sarah said.

I patted the side of her left breast.  “Dear, you’re growing very fast, but even you aren’t growing that fast,” I said.

Sarah smiled.  “You’re right, of course,” she said.

On arrival at the beach for the photo shoot, Sarah emerged.  A half-dozen spectacular-looking models were there -- all of whom went slack-jawed when they saw Sarah.

Then Sarah took off her robe.  Her huge, impossibly firm breasts hovered above the rock-hard abs of her midsection.  She was a vision.

“There goes the cover,” one of the models said.

“Why do they have us all here at once, anyway?” another model asked.

The shoot went quickly.  Sarah and the other models made several changes of suits and posed a bunch.  Whenever Sarah felt uncomfortable she would look to me and I would do something to lighten her mood -- make a goofy face, leer at her, blow her a kiss.  Once I gave her a thumbs up, which made her laugh.

It was clear we were nearing the end of the shoot when Sarah approached the photographer.  “I know I’m new at this, but can I make a suggestion?” she said, bending down to look at the photog.

“Sure,” said the lead photographer, Murray.  What else would he say?  Would you want to argue with an 80-foot woman?

“If the other girls don’t object,” Sarah said, “what about taking a picture of all of us together?  I think it would be a great shot.”

The other models were talking immediately.

“She just wants to make us look small,” one of them said.  “The bitch!”

“No, wait, think about this,” another one said.  “This shot would be so unique -- especially if we all struck poses, like, not just around her, but on her.”

“It would be cool,” a third model said.

“It will be the cover,” the second model said.  “She’s giving us an opening to be cover models -- for the swimsuit issue, no less.  Think how that’ll look on a credits list.”

Before the photographers could approach the models, the women had all agreed to do it and were coming over to let the photographers know.

I gave Sarah another thumbs up.  She had actually broached the idea to me days earlier.  I told her she should try it.  I knew a winning concept when I heard it.

Sarah first sat on the beach, allowing some of the models to climb on her legs.  Then she pushed up on her right hand while leaning on the ground with the other hand.

I drew in my breath at this shot.  All of the women looked spectacular, but Sarah was so amazingly hot it was almost inconceivable.

There were other poses -- Sarah holding a posing model in each hand, Sarah holding two models on one hand, Sarah holding two models on each hand.  In every shot, she was posing, too, and in every shot she and all the other girls looked amazing.

As we wrapped for the day, Murray looked at me.  “I think we’ve got a first,” he said.  “I think all the models will be on the cover this time.”

I approached Sarah, who picked me up to carry me to the trailer for the ride home.  “Nice work today,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said.  “Would you like me to bring one of these swimsuits home?”

I raised my eyebrow.  “I’d rather see you without them,” I said.

Sarah giggled.  “You’ve got it,” she said.

The ride home was reminder of the herd of elephants always in the room for us.  Sarah had grown about six inches during the photo shoot, making the ride home just a little bit more uncomfortable.  It was a reminder of the rapidly expanding problem of Sarah’s burgeoning size.

I started running the mental math in my head.  By the time the magazine was due to come out, Sarah would be more than 140 feet tall --and, depending on the actual release date, might be more than 200 feet tall.

We didn’t say much for the rest of the ride home.