The roof of my shed was only seven feet high, so the woman had to bend over to fit into it. On the floor lay the mattress on which I slept, supported by some planks. She knelt down next to it and laid me down on it. I was breathing fast and sweating hard, and hoped like hell she wouldn’t notice I’d just had a climax while she was carrying me. But then she asked me if I could smell something, and when she saw the moist spot on the front of my pants I knew it was over.

“Oh…my …God!” she exclaimed, as I closed my eyes and curled myself up. “You sick little bastard! Can’t you control yourself?”

“I’m sorry!” I moaned over and over. This time I couldn’t prevent myself from crying. I began to sob like a child and wished I’d never gone out of my goddamned house in the first place. The woman stared at me for a few seconds, then grabbed me by my jacket and yanked me upright. I felt like vomiting.

“Stop that!” she said angrily. “Do you hear me? What’s the matter with you?”

“I…I’m so sorry…”

“Uh-huh. So what happened, hmm? Were you aroused when I carried you like that?”

I nodded. She heaved a sigh and threw me down onto the bed. Then she stood up, only to bang her head against the metal ceiling. She cursed loudly.

“Who the fuck lives like this?” she said, looking around. I just kept on sobbing. She knelt down again, and when she spoke this time her voice was softer.

“Okay, look, little man – you’ve clearly got issues, and I think we ought to talk sometime. But it’s getting late, and I’m parked pretty far, so why don’t you call me sometime, and we’ll talk then. Okay?”

I nodded, not looking at her but at the ground. She took a pen and a piece of paper out of her purse, and wrote down a cellphone number. She gave me the piece of paper.

“I’m Jessica, by the way,” she said. “And you? What’s your name?”

“Andy,” I whimpered.

“Andy,” she repeated. “Cute name. You take it easy, okay, Andy?”

She wiped my face dry with her gloved hand, which was much bigger than my head. Then she stood up, more carefully this time, and looked around once more.

“That your computer?” she asked. I nodded, and she said: “Why don’t you check out my website? It’s called Giantess Jessica; I bet you’d find it interesting.” She winked at me and said goodbye. Then she left, leaving me lying there without having said a word. It was getting cold now, so I turned on the electric heater. I limped over to the ‘kitchen’ section of the shed and began to prepare dinner.

After dinner I turned on my computer, barely able to contain my curiosity much longer. I wanted to find out all I could about ‘Giantess Jessica’, but there was something else that was bothering me too. She’d never told me how tall she was, but even I, with my limited general knowledge, could tell that she had to be one of the tallest people in the world. I went to Wikipedia and typed in “List of tallest people”.

Number one was a Chinese man who stood 278 cm (9 feet 1.5 inches) tall. I’d never heard of him before, but when I saw number two my eyes widened. Standing 276 cm (9 feet 0.5 inches) tall, which made her the tallest woman of all time, was Jessica Paige. I clicked on her name without bothering to check on the rest of the list. Considering that she was the tallest woman in the world, her article was surprisingly short. I learned that she was twenty-two years old and that she had a sister, Alicia, who was also of great height, though it didn’t say exactly how tall she was.

Jessica became a fashion model when she was nineteen, being already over eight feet tall by the time she left school. There was a picture of her in some type of red, flowery garment, standing next to a row of other supermodels, none of whom were taller than her chest. She was apparently world-famous, and if my life wasn’t so sheltered I’d probably have heard of her long ago. At the bottom of the page was a link to her website, and I clicked on it.

The Giantess Jessica site had several photo galleries, filled with pictures of her in all kinds of sexy outfits, posing next to celebrities, etc. I stared at all of them, aware that I was slowly becoming aroused again. I learned that she was even available if one wanted to engage in ‘role-play’ with her. Apparently there were lots of men whose fantasies included being humiliated or wrestled into submission by a giant woman, because Giantess Jessica listed these as her most requested activities. But the website made it clear that these activities did not allow sexual intercourse, or even any nudity, and the sums of money she asked for were huge.

That night, in bed, I masturbated while thinking of Jessica, trying to picture what she would look like naked. Afterwards I found it difficult to sleep, so I went to her website again. I was completely infatuated with her by that time; I couldn’t stop thinking of her, and of how fucking arousing it had been when she carried me. And I remembered how scared I had been when she was yelling at me. She could have killed me in seconds, I was sure of it. I looked at the piece of paper with her number. Should I call her, perhaps, or had she already forgotten about little old me?

In the end I decided not to call her. At least, not until some time had passed. I definitely didn’t want her to know how much I was attracted to her; she might be furious if she thought I was some kind of pervert who was unhealthily obsessed with her. So I spent the week at home, trying to prepare myself for when I would have to talk to her again. Apart from a brief visit to Grandpa, I spoke to no-one that week; I certainly didn’t tell Grandpa about her. I reckoned she would probably have plans of some sort for the weekend, so I waited until Sunday to call her.

Her phone rang for several seconds before she answered it with a simple ‘hello’.

“Um, er, h-hi, Jessica,” I said. (“Be brave,” I told myself. “Don’t give up now.”) “It’s…it’s me, Andy. How, um, how are you?”

“Sorry? Could you repeat your name, please?”

“It’s Andy, Jessica. You, well, you…you helped me get back home…Monday afternoon. You g-gave me your number.”

“Oh, of course!” she exclaimed loudly. “Shit, I’ve completely forgotten about you! Busy week, I guess! So, had any more wet dreams about me, you little perv?”

“No!” I exclaimed, a bit too quickly. “I-I-I’m…I just want to say hi and…and apologize, you know… Could I, I mean, could…could we, you know, m-meet somewhere and talk?” My voice trailed of, and I wondered if I’d just done the wrong thing.

“Really? You have that much to say, huh?” She paused for a few seconds, then continued. “You know what? I’m not doing anything today, so how about I come and pick you up at…eleven, okay? I’m sure you don’t mind coming with me to my place, right?”

“No, I don’t mind, I…”

“All right! Then that’s settled. See you in an hour, little man! Bye!”

“Goodb…” She’d hung up. Now what was going to happen? There was no way I could back out now. I put on my best jacket, shirt and trousers, which wasn’t saying much – they were clothes for a two-year-old, brightly coloured and all, and they were much too big for me. When I looked in the mirror I thought I looked ridiculous, and I knew any normal guy would be mortified if someone, especially a woman, saw him like this.