“My, you look ravishing this evening. Do you come around here often?” Miriam teased, sitting cross-legged on the beach.

            “Thanks. You, uh, look ravishing too,” Lanz responded. He sat across from the woman on a flat-topped rock, large enough to be used as a table for the two of them.

            “Oh man, we’re off to a rough start.” The coast was awash in the yellow glow of the setting sun. The crashing waves and squawking seabirds provided the soundtrack to the couple’s first improvised dinner date. “You can’t just repeat back what I say and call it a compliment. You have to be genuine. Make a girl feel special. Try again.”

            “Uh, your hair looks nice?”

            “Too cliché. And why did you phrase it as a question?” Miriam leaned her elbow on the “table,” resting her chin in her hand in a sultry manner. “Again.”

            Lanz looked her up and down, fishing for something to compliment. First thing he noticed was her chest, the nipples prodding at her black tank top a pleasant reminder that Miriam never wore a bra, but even someone as inexperienced with women as Lanz knew mentioning her funbags wouldn’t fly. His view shifted left to the bent elbow, Miriam’s thick bicep flexing as she held up her head.

            “I see you’re keeping fit. Have you been working out more lately?”

            “Much better!” Miriam soft clapped for him. “For a second, I was worried you were gonna say something about my tits.” Lanz’s face glowed red as a tomato, eliciting a giggle from his date. “Save those kinds of remarks for the bedroom. They’re more than welcome there, but we want to keep things classy at dinner.” Miriam got up and walked a few feet to the tree line, grabbing two leaves off the ground and returning to the table. She handed Lanz the smaller, mango tree leaf while keeping the larger monstera leaf for herself. "Drinks are on the front, entrées are on the back."

            Lanz studied the menu, deciding which of the imaginary listings sounded most appealing. "What do you recommend?"

            "Definitely the spring water. Salt water will make you delirious, and piss ain't worth the price." Miriam looked over the back of her monstera leaf, reading its veins. "I can't decide: fish or pork?"

            "Pork sounds good. We had fish this morning."

            "Pork it is." The two set their leaves on the table, laying them out like unfolded napkins. Miriam grabbed a canteen from beside her and poured some water into the cap, handing it to Lanz. Then, she stood and walked over to a pile of tarps. Surplus fish, roasted pig, and fallen fruit were wrapped up and stored by the campsite for later use. Miriam unwrapped a half-eaten pig and, using her combat knife, carved off a big chunk of ribs for her and a sliver of chop for her date. Returning to the table, she placed the meat on each of their makeshift plates. "Dinner is served."

            The couple dug in, covering their faces in greasy foodstuff. Under normal circumstances, Miriam would reprimand Lanz's lack of manners as he shoveled pork and water into his gullet, but certain formalities could be overlooked given their situation. Besides, her mouth was too full of chow to say much anyway. 

            "So, tell me about yourself." Miriam said after swallowing, spattering out chewed bits of rib.

            “My name is Lanz Ocel. I’m twenty-six years old. I’m a Master Sergeant in the Fidelphian-”

            “No! No! No! I know all this already. Tell me something interesting about yourself. Nothing military related.” Miriam waited while Lanz grasped for a response. “Think of a hobby, something you do for fun.”

            “I like movies,” he finally said. Miriam’s face lit up.

            “Perfect! You have any favorites in particular?”

            “There’s one I’ve seen at least twenty times. ‘The Man Called Revolver.’ A skilled gunslinger infiltrates a band of outlaws to rat them out to his gang, but in the end, it’s revealed he was actually a government agent double-crossing both sides.”

            “Starring Patric Laine, right?” Miriam asked with glowing eyes. “That one’s a classic. The cinematography’s unreal.”

            “You’ve seen it!?” Lanz almost leapt off the rock. “The acting was stellar, and the shootouts were so thrilling.”

            “That film pioneered so many types of shots and editing techniques, a lot of which are still used today. It revolutionized the genre while also telling a gripping story of camaraderie and betrayal.”

            “And the effects were really good. All the explosions and the blood. It was like the characters were actually getting shot at.”

            “It’s well-paced too. Even on repeat viewings, I’m always on the edge of my seat.”

            “And the best part are the gun tricks.” Lanz unholstered his revolver and spun it with his finger. “I’ve memorized every one.” Lanz subtly flicked his wrist, keeping the rotation going. Then, he tossed his gun once in the air, caught it, and tossed it again under/over his other arm, catching it like juggler would a rubber ball. He held it vertical and horizontal, at his waist and up to his chest. It soared across his body like a helicopter propeller. He flicked the gun backwards, looping it under and around his shoulder and into his waiting hand where it continued spinning. Then he flung it behind his back to the other hand, spun it some more, tossed it again to his right, and slid it seamlessly into his holster. Miriam forgot where she was, mesmerized by the spectacle.

            “You have to show me how to do that!” She pulled out her handgun, emptied the magazine, and started twirling it, but it wobbled off her finger after two rotations.

            “Take it slow,” Lanz advised, walking over to her right arm. Miriam picked up her gun and held it out next to him. “Hook your forefinger through the trigger guard and keep your other fingers straight.” He pushed against her finger until it was bent into place. “You want to keep your hand straight while making the circles. The wobbling comes from moving side to side. Try again.” Miriam tried again at a slower pace, getting through five rotations before her pistol started wobbling. “Keep it straight.” Lanz pushed against her wrist as it drew closer to him, keeping it steadier. The gun straightened out, and in no time, she was spinning it like a real cowboy.

            “Holy shit, I’m doing it!” Lanz stepped back and admired the performance. Feeling confident, Miriam tried to holster it like Lanz did, but dropped the gun as soon as she lowered her arm. “Guess I still need some practice.”

            “You’ll get it,” Lanz assured her. “You’re picking it up faster than I did.”

            “Having a great teacher certainly helps.” Miriam grabbed her gun and holstered it without the flair. “It’s incredible you learned that from watching a movie. I’m surprised you could even see it; I’d think Fidelphi would ban anything produced by bigs.”

            “Normally, that’d be the case. But a doctor I knew was a fanatic for foreign films, and he had enough political sway to import illegal goods like that. He’d let me watch them during downtime.” Lanz walked back to his side of the table and sat down to face his date. “How about you? Got a favorite movie? I might’ve seen it.”

            “I doubt it. ‘April 30th’ doesn’t seem up your alley.”

            “The musical? That’s the one where the spy falls in love with the man she’s ordered to tail.”

            “That’s right!” Miriam leapt up, hands slamming into the rock as she leaned forward. “I idolized Louise Chambell growing up. I’ve memorized the lyrics to all her songs.”

            "You can sing?" Lanz asked. Miriam sat back down, holding her fist to her mouth in a demure attempt to hide her embarrassment.

            "No. I mean, I can, but it's been a while and…" Miriam tried to avoid the gaze of the tiny smiling below her. "You don't expect me to- I'm telling you, I'm too rusty. You could probably sing better than…" Lanz sat quietly, waiting. "I couldn't perform without music, anyway. It'd be terrible. You really don't want to listen…" The tiny soldier didn't waiver. Sweat droplets formed across Miriam’s blaring red cheeks. "Fine! I'll sing! But I warned you." Miriam cleared her throat and closed her eyes, distant words popped into the forefront of her mind.

            "~I think back to the day, when you first said to me~…" Miriam’s voice faltered as she recalled the melody. “…~‘On you, dear, it all looks lovely’~” It was a love ballad from the film, one in which the main character comes to terms with her unsanctioned attraction to the male lead. It was apparent that it had been a few years since Miriam last sang for someone, and her parched throat took its toll on her neglected talent. But as she progressed to the chorus, dormant memories returned alongside her confidence, and the woman shone brighter than the setting sun.

            Her voice snatched Lanz away from the island and into the set of the film: a big city hotel room on a rainy night. Miriam was a young woman with reddish-brown hair in a scarlet dress, inhibiting the form of Ms. Chambell. She sang to Lanz, a framed photograph of the man the spy was sent to tail, resting on the nightstand. A bittersweet melody filled the air, one of unbridled joy swamped in doubt. Miriam made it as far as the bridge before coughing, ending the spell.

            "Sorry," she said between coughs. "Haven't gotten much practice as of late."

            "That was beautiful."

            “You’re just being nice.” Miriam held one hand along the side of her cheek, flapping the other one forward in modest dismissal.

            “I’m serious! You sounded just like the actress. Maybe better!” Granted, it had been over half a decade since Lanz last saw that movie, but to his ear, Miriam may as well been the greatest singer in the world.

            “Thanks. That means a lot.” Miriam held out her hand, beckoning Lanz to climb aboard. “If we ever get off this island, we should go see a movie together.”

            “Absolutely,” Lanz said from her palm. “I’ve never been to a theater before.”

            “You could lounge in my popcorn bucket.” Miriam licked her lips, imagining the tiny coated in butter and salt. “Hell, I could sneak you in and not have to pay for the ticket.”

            “It’s a date, then. But for now, are we having dessert?”

            “See, there’s a problem.” Miriam raised Lanz to eye level. “We don’t have enough dessert for the both of us.”

            “Oh, you can have it, then.” An impish grin sprawled across Miriam’s cheeks, her yellowed teeth reflecting the lingering sunlight.

            “I was hoping you’d say that.” She peeled Lanz’s tank top off like a candy wrapper and forced his head into her mouth. Her tongue, a veritable bed of tissue and tastebuds, dragged across his torso, drenching him in her warm, savory saliva. Her lips clamped around his upper abdomen, squeezing him between the plentiful pillows. Lanz returned the favor, kissing and licking the extensive muscle in the mixed sized couple's equivalent of swapping spit.

            Miriam fell backwards into the sand, mashing Lanz against her slobbering lips. She moved down his body, starting at the head and migrating to his chest, suckling on his shoulders and pecs. Lanz fumbled with his belt in Miriam’s grip and slid out of his pants and underwear. Miriam continued to drift downward, her lips grazing over his abs to reach his crotch. The inch-long erection slipped between her pearly gates, throbbing as the woman tugged at it. She sucked on it for a couple minutes, sending a tidal wave of pleasure cascading through Lanz’s miniature frame. After a few more tugs, she eked out the salty-sweet filling she had been craving, dowsing her tongue in her partner’s jizz.

            Miriam set Lanz down on her thigh, sitting up to remove her tank top. Her naked rack hung tantalizingly over him, supported by her herculean shoulder muscles and perched above the fine grooves of her six-pack. Miriam picked him up and laid down once more, setting the man loose onto her chest.

            “I forgot, there is enough dessert for both of us,” she purred, pointing to her left nipple. “In fact, you’ll have enough for seconds.” Lanz crawled onto her breast. Despite how fit she was, Miriam’s boobs were notably plump, more than enough to fill a large man’s hand and beyond what a tiny could grasp with their entire arm span. Lanz bit into her nipple, grinding his miniscule teeth against the rubbery flesh. Miriam bucked and moaned. She reached down to her belt and tore out of her pants and underwear while Lanz chewed on her. His intensity was perfect: strong enough to fire her nerve endings on all cylinders, yet tender enough to not inflict unpleasant pain.

            “That’s enough,” she groaned. She grabbed his ankles and dragged him down her abs to her groin. “You need to save some room for the rest.” Lanz glided over a wiry forest of black pubes as he was pulled past Miriam’s crotch. She draped him over her glistening pussy, leaving him at eye level with her clit. “Lick right here,” she instructed, pinching her clitoral hood. “Are your orders clear, soldier?”

            “Aye-aye, ma’am.” Lanz wedged himself into position and lapped at her pearl. The tiny tongue sent shivers through Miriam’s whole body. She smashed her thighs together in response to the electrifying stimulus, crushing much of Lanz’s body between the thick walls of muscle. The force was enough to bruise, but if anything, it only spurred Lanz on, further intensifying his efforts as his erection kneaded between the overwhelming thighs. Miriam writhed in the sand while an outpouring of cum drenched her little lover.

            Lanz felt the brick walls relax around him, and Miriam lifted him from her vulva and onto her chest, laying him in the valley of her cleavage.

            “Shit. I don’t think I can go back to guys my size,” Miriam remarked between heavy breaths.

            “Same. Not that I’ve ever been with a woman my height, but there’s no way one could compare.” The two lied together and stared at the stars popping into the encroaching night sky. Miriam caressed Lanz with her finger, tracing the tip of it up and down the center of his torso.

            “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” she asked. Lanz didn’t respond, unsure of how “personal” she intended to get. “How’d you get this scar?” She tapped the center of his chest and traced the long line to his groin. “Sorry, it’s been bugging me for a while.”

            “Heart transplant,” he spat out. “I sustained a critical injury, so doctors carved it out and put a new one in.”

            “You could just say you don’t want to tell me,” she pouted. “You don’t have to lie.”

            “It’s not entirely a lie.” Lanz paused and reflected. Hellish imagery, cold steel and sterile rubber, flashed past his empty eyes. The warmth of Miriam’s chest and finger was the only thing grounding him to reality. “I can’t tell you. I just can’t.”

            “Because it’s classified?”

            “No. I mean, it is, but that’s not why.” Lanz weighed the repercussions. His past hung over his throat like a Sword of Damocles. “You wouldn’t understand.”

            “Not if you keep it all bottled up.” Miriam sat up and cupped her hands beneath her chest, holding Lanz so she could look him in the eye. He wanted the conversation to fizzle out, but he couldn’t refuse the face bearing down on him.

            “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just…” Lanz stared at his hands. A thick malaise overcame him. “You couldn’t know what it’s like to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. It’s only when I’m with you that the aching goes away. I know it’s just pretense, but…” Lanz leaned against the spot beneath her chest, her steady heartbeat offering him some semblance of relief. “…I don’t want to let go of this tranquility. One day, I’ll tell you everything, but, please, let me enjoy this fantasy for a while longer.” Miriam lifted him to her face and planted a kiss on him.

            “You’re right. I don’t really understand, but that’s okay for now. Take your time. I don’t mind indulging you, so long as we address this once you’re ready.”

            “Thanks.” Lanz kissed her back, reveling in the warmth of her embrace. “Can we talk about movies some more?”

            “Of course,” she giggled, thoughts of Lanz’s secrets dancing restlessly in the back of her mind.