Ricardo was exhausted and out of sorts. The flight from Brazil back to Chicago was over fifteen hours, and he felt like he'd exhausted his bring-along entertainment just a few hours into it. The rest of the flight had been an endless monotony of little plastic soft drinks with too much ice, and claustrophobia inducing containment. 

That isn't to say it wasn't worth it. He was happy to get home over the holiday to see his family. It had been a few years, and he found his missed home as much as his parents, brother, and sister. Brazil had been hot hot hot, as is typical during December, and it far preferred it to the frigid winters he had to endure in Illinois. In fact, it seemed like most of the year there was winter, with a speckle of crisp spring, a smidge of hot summer, and a trickle of leaves in the fall, before it was right back in frigid cold. He was certain to settle somewhere warmer when college was over.

He tried to close his eyes and rest back into the seat, but it was cramped, and as soon as he'd nod off, his head would fall to the side and wake him. Frustrated, he gave up, and pulled back out his laptop. When it came out of sleep, he saw the email from his girlfriend that had him both frightened and excited. 

It was almost unthinkable, staying faithful to a far-off girlfriend while in Brazil. The summer in Rio brought out the hottest girls, and the smallest thongs. What's more, it was not uncommon for women to proposition you out in the open -- something which had happened twice to Ricardo in just the short two week trip home. He had told Kat all about this when he left; told her that while he really liked her, he didn't want to hurt her. That they should just see about picking things up after the holidays. 

Kat just wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, that he she was going to keep him. That even halfway across the world, she'd make him want her. Kat was a pretty girl for sure, but honestly, she didn't hold a candle to the tanned Brazilian bodies that had paraded around him over the holiday. What she did have though, was fire and spunk. She was sexy, fearless, completely uninhibited. At just 19 years old, she already had nine piercings. Four in her lips and tongue, four in her ears, and a belly button ring. She also had a serpent tattoo running down her spine. Ricardo hadn't every been into the punk or goth look before, black hair, black nails, but Kat drew him in. She was just so different than other girls, so much sexy confidence.

And keep her she had, right through his holiday in the land of sex. He clicked to one of her earlier emails, which opened, "I bet you're excited for the beach today. I took a look at some pictures of Rio on the Internet, so I know what I'm up against. Hot tanned bodies flaunting themselves, begging to show you what a real man you are. Enjoy it. I just want you to remember what you can come back to if you look but don't touch. Remember that heading home blow-job I gave you that lasted over an hour? How I kept pleasing and torturing you without making you come? I bet you wish you could get one of those right now. Massaging the softness of my tongue against you, then flicking you with that hard metal bead. Mmmmm. I can almost taste you right now." Kat had teased on for a couple more paragraphs, but Ricardo felt self conscious at the growing reaction in his pants, looking to his left and right to be sure his neighboring passengers were fast asleep. 

He flipped through the messages to another gem that kept him going. Mid-email she admitted, "I've decided something. There is really no reason you should have to decide between beach hotties and my talents. It's time for me to experiment with girls. I've always found the female form beautiful, just not exactly arousing. However, yesterday I told your roommate you needed me to print and turn in an essay you forgot, so he let me alone at your computer for a while. I accidentally stumbled upon a little stash of pictures you so cleverly hid under the folder name 'superhotties'. Subtle. I admire your taste in... breasts. Seriously, I was envious. I've always hated being flat. I totally get why men want some volume to grab onto. Maybe after I get out of school and get some money I can pay some black magic wiccan to grow me some tits, that or a plastic surgeon. However, in the meantime we'll need to find someone else's tits to play with. I'll get something to look forward to for when I have my own, and you'll get the chance to watch me lick and suck a lucky girl's big fleshy tits. Maybe we could do it at a strip club, or maybe next time you head down to Brazil you'll bring me with you and we can take home a beach 'superhottie'. xoxo"

Ricardo stopped there, surprised as much at the length Kat would go to keep his interest with just email as he was with how well it worked. There were almost a dozen emails in total, all of them filled with her flirting and vivid description of what she had, or would, do to him. There were for sure moments he was tempted to sample the local flavor, thinking Kat wouldn't ever know. She had a way though, a way of seeing right through him. He wasn't even sure she would stop seeing him, after-all, she hadn't actually forbid him from hooking up. It's just that She was already so far beyond the best sex he had ever imagined before he left. Each email had made him more and more hungry to get back, and he couldn't risk pissing her off. 

As he flipped through them quickly, he was reminded of how each email pushed the boundary of outlandish tease further than the last. That is until the last email. As he stopped on it, he still felt a bit torn open. Like she'd ripped him open in a way he wasn't ready for her to see. "Got on your computer again yesterday. Found myself thinking about one of the pictures I saw earlier, a sexy brunette with knockers so big they're bubbled up and busting out of her black patent leather corset. I'm sure you know the one. I wanted to diddle myself off to it. Plus, it's a look that could work for me one day. Anyhow. I did some more digging, prying through your personal stuff. (That'll teach you not to leave me here and head to Brazil alone!) I found some of your, ahem, shall we say, other interests..." 

Just like the first time Ricardo read it, he felt his pulse rising, not with arousal, but with concern, fear. These were private things he didn't want other's seeing. He had a thing not just big tits, but big girls. Not fat, but impossibly big, maybe twice his height, or a few stories tall. He'd gone to lengths with passwords and encryption to keep this hidden. Having read the letter already, he knew he hadn't done enough. "Amateur of you to use 128-bit encryption but only a six character passphrase. It took me a whole two hours on the campus computing cluster to break it. If you're going to..." She rambled on a bit about the mathematics behind passphrase entropy and security. Damn her for being a computer science whiz. 

"Now I'm seeing you in a whole new light Ricardo. I thought Brazil was the home of machismo. I had no idea your female ideal was so, progressive. Don't worry, it's not like I'm going to send this stuff to your parents and friends or anything, at least not if you do exactly as I say. Ha ha. Sorry, that's a bit sinister even for me. I would never. Really. Don't be worried. In fact, you should be pleased. It's giving me a bunch of new material to work with. You thought I could get under your skin and turn your cock hard before. Watch this." 

Ricardo knew what was coming, and like standing on the tracks watching a train run you down, he couldn't stop. He just checked that his neighbors were both still asleep and continued reading. "I especially liked a story I read where a girl finds an amulet that she can use to make herself bigger. How tall are you? About five-ten right? If I had that amulet, I think I'd start with just a couple inches. I'd pick you up at the airport about five-nine wearing that ornate black dress you like, you know, the one with the white hem accents. Of course the amulet would let me affect my clothes and jewelry too, so it would fit perfectly. You'd think it was just my boots making me extra tall and sexy. 

"You'd stop in the bathroom, and when you came out, I'd be five-ten and sporting a sexy grin. Before you could notice or say anything, my tongue would deliver a dose of Kat-welcomes-you-home that would make others around us entirely uncomfortable. As we walked through the airport with locked arms, you'd check out the cute female travelers like you always do. You probably don't realize how much I notice. This time though, I'd be happy for your distraction, as I'd take the opportunity to grow again. Not a lot, just an inch at first. Enough that I could feel taller than you, but not so much that it's obvious to you, yet. By this time other travelers would be checking us out, actually me really. The six-foot-tall goth chick and her slightly shorter boyfriend. Even the hot girls would check us out, and you'd just think they were looking at you. 

"At baggage claim, I'd subtly steer us to stand somewhat near the tallest hottest chick from the flight. A plane back from Brazil aught to have a good selection. Once I know you're checking her out, that I picked the right one, I'd get your attention back. I'd nibble on your ear and whisper, asking if you liked my emails. I've got three inches on you now, so it's hard for you not to notice something is different. But you're tired from the long flight, and it doesn't take much to distract you. I kiss you again. Then I whisper how serious I was about the girl thing, and suggest we take home the tall hot chick so you can watch me taste her boobies. I'd use the word 'boobies' out of kindness, because I know if I suggestively whisper 'tits' into your ear it'll make you rock hard right there in the airport. 

"But this is fantasy right? So go ahead. Picture me, holding your arm, my lips so close you can feel my breath. You know I'm a few inches taller than you, you just haven't admitted it to yourself yet. I whisper into your ear, 'What about her over there? The girl in the white crop-top? Maybe we should bring her home, so you can come in her tits and then watch me lick it off them.' You're not thinking about my height anymore, or even the girl, you're looking at the conveyor wondering when you're bag is going to come out so you can get me, you, and your raging hardon to somewhere a little more private. Lucky timing too, because it just popped out. 

"You excuse yourself, not sure how to handle my turned-up-to-10 libido now that it's turned-up-to-12. I take the time to saunter up to the hot chick. She's taller than I thought, about six-one, and I can't be shorter than her. I add another couple inches. In my boots I'm six-two now. That's two inches taller than you barefoot, if you're cock is taking too much blood for your brain to do the math. I make some quippy smalltalk with her, something about the brutally long flight. Pretty girls have a bond, you see, and tall pretty girls even more so. By the time you grab your bag and head back towards us, you can see she's already giving me her number. You're not sure what to be more turned on about, the chance that she's coming home with us, that we're both inches taller than you, or that you've now realized I'm just as hot as her. and even taller. 

"She introduces herself, but you don't even hear it, don't even see her hand outstretched. You're too busy looking up at me, wondering how my eyes are staring back from five inches above yours. Did I say five? Now six. I politely apologize for you, tell her you're wiped from the flight, and introduce you. She understands, and gives you a flirty brush of the hand before she excuses herself and heads over towards her bag. You want to know what's going on. You want to confront me about it. But there are so many people around. I lean in close, challenging for you not to worry. You should just get us home so you can enjoy it."

At this point in the email, Ricardo is not just rock hard, but feeling a little faint, and sweaty -- some of which might be from the long clammy flight. The email goes on, and he knows exactly what's coming. He looks again to his left and right. The whole plane is dark except for light creeping in under the window shutters. Everyone around him is asleep. He can't stop reading. "On the way to the car, I notice you have a little more spring in your step, a little more urgency. I figure either I've distracted you from the initial shock, or that you have to work harder to keep up with my longer strides. Not that it matters. As you put your luggage in the back, I stand next to the passenger door, making it clear you should drive, watching you repeatedly eye me with a combination of amazement, hunger, and disbelief. I don't blame you. You're formerly petite girlfriend stands six-foot-three, the car roof between us making our height difference just as apparent as when I was standing right next to you. We both get in at the same time.

"Inside the car you ask me how this is possible. I just nod my finger at you. I'm not giving you any answers. It would spoil all the fun. I just lean over and suck at your bottom lip, simultaneously slipping my hand down the front of your pants. I know rubbing my fingers against the bare skin of your cock will answer any question, solve any problem. As I do it, I tell you how much I missed you, how much I know you missed me. I suggest maybe it's a good idea to head home, like the stroking is some kind of mind control. It is. I suck and lick at your lip suggestively. You know exactly what I'm implying. Right now you want to come so bad, you wouldn't care how I did it, but you're a good sport, and you're playing the game. I keep stroking you for a solid two minutes longer, just to prove to you that you won't move a muscle until I stop. 

"As soon as I sit back in my chair, it's like you're hyped on speed and meth. The car is out of the parking space and whizzing away from the park toll gate before I even have my seatbelt on. I inch my dress up suggestively high, and you glance over at the revelation of skin. Not much of it mind you, as my boots are thigh-high. I tip my seat back, and ask you if you mind if I get started a little early. The question is rhetorical. I spread my legs and start fingering myself. I see you glance over enough to register that I'm not wearing any panties. I'm enjoying the sensation, and sounding like it, but I'm not distracting you enough. It's surprising how much even in just the last twenty minutes, I enjoy the different way you look at me. So I decide to give you something more to look at.

"I adjust the seat again, pushing it back as far as it will go. I wait until you peek over at me, and I grow. Not slowly this time, so you'll hardly notice, but a full three inches in just a few seconds. I have to do it fast for you to notice, because we're on the expressway, and your attention shifts back to the road pretty frequently. You've always been a good driver, I'm thankful for that. However, with the way you're darting your eyes back to me, I'm wondering if this all too much for you to keep that reputation. I take a break from massaging my clit long enough to remind you to not to kill us both in a car accident. I ask if I should stop, but you insist I shouldn't, which is good, because I wasn't going to anyhow. It feels too good.

"I did tone it down though. Just enjoying rubbing myself wet as you pull off the exit-ramp. You're apartment isn't far and the streets are pretty empty, so I figure I can give you another treat. I pick up the moaning to get your attention, and as you look over, I add another three inches in as many seconds. As if the masturbation is making me do it. You're stolen glances at me are now scattered, my legs, my arms, above my head. I know I'm now a natural six-foot-seven, and since the heels of my boots have grown along with them, probably six-ten with them on. The car seat probably looks unnaturally small underneath me, as my head now extends several inches beyond the headrest. My legs feel cramped, there being hardly enough room for them. 

"I hear the car engine turn off, and realize I was into myself enough to miss the last few minutes of the drive. Oops. I look over, and you're just staring down at me like something you just want to sit and admire. I love it. I shift my body posture and hold the dress fabric away from my crotch, showing you the fully waxed and shaved treat I had done for you while you were gone. I make a joke about how I wanted to make sure I reminded you a little of home. I let the dress fabric down, and open the door. A moment later we're both out of the car, and I'm looking around to check if I can make it to your apartment door unseen. Being a sexy amazon for you is one thing, ending up on youtube as a freak is another. You seem to get it, as we both make a break for it, leaving your luggage in the car."

"Sir?" It was a loud whisper. Ricardo was so involved in the story and his mind's eye, he failed to notice the stewardess come by. She was obviously trying to be quiet, gesturing at a glass, asking if he wanted a drink. He waved her off, thankful that the tray-table covered the response in his pants. He thought over what came next in the story, fumbling for keys, kissing her inside the doorway. He wasn't sure why he was torturing himself. He'd wacked off to her emails dozens of times during the trip, but it's not like this option was available to him right now. Still, he couldn't stop. He needed some closure. He forced himself to skip past the actual sex. As steamy as it was, reading her describe how every bit of what she would do to him, every moment of her demonstrating her final seven foot tall height, was just too much. He was afraid he would come in his pants. A mess he literally didn't want to deal with.

The final paragraph wrapped it up in a neat package for him. "So you see. It's good I found you're badly secured 'private' stuff. That wasn't the only story I liked either. Seven feet is just the beginning. I wonder if that black magic wiccan knows anything about giantess growth. It'd be kind of fun to hold you in the palm of my hand. One compromise I'd have to make though. The truly goth looking chicks seem to always be bad asses, smashing and killing people. That's not me. I mean, if I was as big as a city, someone might get hurt, but I wouldn't mean it. I just want to be a sexy powerful giantess. I think I have to change my hair color. What do you think? Pink? Blue? Maybe white? I'd want all those little people down there to know I was friendly. I'm looking forward to you coming home tomorrow. Don't make too much a mess of the airport lavatory. Te he. Catch you at the airport."

Ricardo closed his laptop feeling really lucky. Lucky that he had found Kat. Lucky that he had dismissed the Brazilian beauties. For whatever they had, they didn't have this. This ability to rile him up from halfway across the globe. The desire to know his secrets, and cherish them. He heard the pilot coming onto the PA. "Folks, we're about 45 minutes out from O'Hare International Airport. Looks like there is a bit of a ground radio issue, so we may be slightly delayed or diverted." The passengers around him were instantly awake. Sun blasted through the window shades as they began to open everywhere around the plane. They were in the clouds for a few seconds, then the sky cleared as they dropped out of them. "Looks like a clear and sunny, what the holy fuck?" 

Passengers seem to look around at each other, shocked at the Pilot's language over the PA. Some looked a bit afraid, worried something might be wrong with the plane. Apparently the pilot was so engaged he forgot to turn off the cabin loudspeaker when he began using the radio again. "Tower, this is Kilo Whiskey Foxtrot Seven Niner Heavy. I see a huge. Ohh christ Pat, is this real? I see what looks like a huge. Christ Pat, I can't say this to a tower. I'll lose my job. That's a fucking giant teenage girl. Am I having a psychotic break?" By now many of the passengers were looking frantically at each other. Some of them were wondering if they were going to die. Pilot gone crazy crashes plane into Lake Michigan. 

Ricardo, on the other hand, craned out the window. What he saw, he was entirely unprepared for. Twenty five thousand feet below them was the city of Chicago, dwarfed by his girlfriend Kat. She was absolutely huge! Her hands were bigger than entire city blocks, and her dress covered a few square miles of the south west side. She was just sitting there, like she was waiting. Waiting for what? Waiting for him to come home? She turned and looked right up at him, or at least at the plane he was in. It felt like she was looking right at him. Then she smiled a little. 

He was glued to the window, craning uncomfortably to get a better look. A moment later she stood up, the airplane's altitude a bit more than waist high. Then he saw a hand approaching from below. What was she doing? Her palms was open, and for a few moments her hand hovered slowly up from below the plane, tracking it as it sped along at close to 450 miles per hour. The closer it got, the less it looked like a hand, and the more it looked like a patch of ground, like the plane was land. Except it wasn't landing. Out Ricardo's side of the plane, her arms and body in view made the truth all too apparent, she was reaching up under the plane. He realized he had judged incorrectly, and her hand was the size of five or six city blocks, more almost three times the size of the plane in each direction. The plane was like a matchbox, too small for her to even grasp. 

A shadow, the force of the sun beading through the window crushed. Her other hand was descending from above. For the first time Ricardo wondered if Kat, as well intended as she might be, was going to kill them all. Several seconds later, the near darkness of the shadow lifted, and Ricardo made out her hand just feet below the plane and what looked like a thumb coming down from above. She was trying to gently grab the plane. However insane the pilot might think he was, at least he had the good sense to fly straight and level. 

Then the entire cabin jolted, the metal of the plane creaking and groaning, passengers screaming. The whole plane seemed to be falling out of the sky, and with the overhead bins shaking and engines sending off a terrifying high pitched whine, Ricardo guessed every one of the passengers thought they were about to die. As for him, he hoped otherwise. However traumatic the sounds, he could still see her hand through the window. Kat was simply bringing the plane in for a landing, her kind of landing. With the entire cabin turning and falling, it was hard to get a good look at anything else. 

The plane was still vibrating violently when the falling stopped. Then they all heard a voice over the sound of the still whining engines, booming through them all like it came from a city sized subwoofer. "Captain. I recommend you cut the engines before someone gets hurt. And I don't mean me." Both the high-pitched whine and the vibration calmed and slowed. Ricardo was able to get another look out the window, and from what he could see, it looked like Kat was sitting again, holding the plane at shoulder height. When the engine sounds were almost gone, the plane turned to the side, and a woman a few rows up let out a loud shriek. A moment later Ricardo could see the cause. Out the left side of the plane, Kat's face came into view as tall as a skyscraper, staring right at them. 

"Ohh Ricardo," her voice boomed with a lyrical cadence. "Would you mind stepping outside so I can properly welcome you home, and so we can let these fine folks get home to their loved ones." He felt like she was staring right at him, even though it seemed impossible for her to pick his tiny face out among the hundreds of passengers staring back at her through the window. Passengers were turning their heads back and forth in disbelief. After all, the entire situation was incredibly unbelievable. Ricardo just gave in, and unbuckled his seatbelt. Passengers stared at him as he pushed into the aisle and walked towards the front of the plane, some in shock, some in anger, some in awe. A pit began to well up in his stomach, demonstrating the terror that was well hidden below the surface. He stepped up to the airplane door, and silently gestured at the emergency release handle. A stewardess who was still bucked in her seat nodded. The fright on her face demonstrating she had no intention of getting up out of her seat to help him.

It took some effort, but the handle turned, the door popped open, and he was buffeted with wind as a bang and hiss deployed the plastic emergency slide out in front of him onto Kat's hand. He stood there at the door, watching her crinkle a smile as she saw him appear, shocked that this was happening. It was really happening. He must have taken too long, because he felt the entire plane lean over until he lost his footing and fell out the door, sliding down the plastic slide at a good clip. Seeing nothing but sky over the edges of the slide, his heart thumped again in terror, wondering if there was anything to land on, or if he was going to slip off, falling to the ground from eight thousand feet. 

Then he left the slide and tumbled over onto the firm ridged surface of her hand. He looked back in time to see four of her digits grasp the plane around the fusalage and wing. It made a terrible sound, as the metal bent and crinkled against her. A moment later she lifted it. Ricardo could see the wing was obviously damaged and twisted, the engines wobbling about, but the fuselage seemed mostly in-tact. He hoped nobody was hurt. Then an engine fell off, crashing to her hand violently no more than a few hundred feet from him. It scared the hell out of him, but she hardly seemed to notice. She was gently moving the plane somewhere else. Several seconds later, it disappeared below his horizon, the palm of her hand. 

Ricardo looked back up at her face, and it was obvious she was taking great care in placing the plane somewhere safe. It took her a minute or so to do it, and in that time he sat there on her palm, occasionally buffeted by a gust of wind. He could tell when she finished, because her eyes trained down on him and he felt g-forces pressing him down into her hand as she brought him closer to her face. Her massive metal lip rings stood out, each bigger around than the airplane fuselage. "Hey lover boy," even speaking softly her voice drouned out everything else, "bet you didn't expect this when I told you I'd pick you up at the airport. How do you like the Pink?" She snickered, sending a rush of fragrant air by him. 

She was referring, of course, to her full head of pink hair. It looked good, a little softer and less sinister than her normal jet-black. Something he was thankful for given the situation. Then he saw the back of her other hand cresting into view from below, her nails painted matching pink. They filled his view more and more as they rapidly approached. When they finally set down, he judged they were probably still seventy-five or hundred-feet away, but when each digit was a wide as a city building, it still felt uncomfortable close. To her it probably seemed like an inch. After admiring what seemed like several football fields of pink nail polish on display, Ricardo cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled at the top of his voice. "Ohh my god Kat. How did you do this? It's so amazing!" 

Her face winced with displeasure. "This is a less fun than I thought it would be. For sure it was fun grabbing that plane out of the air. I bet a few of your fellow passengers peed their pants at that." Even watching her lips move as she spoke was awe inspiring, each easily eight or nine stories tall. "I debated ripping the plane open for show. There was just too much risk of you getting hurt. And now, I can't hear you at all, and I'm afraid if I try to touch you," one of her massive fingers lifted and pressed back into her skin near him, "you'll end up a blood stain and I'll be out the best boyfriend in the world." Her face crumpled into a pouty look for a moment. "I hope you don't mind if I get a little smaller." 

Ricardo shook his head, not that she was asking for permission. Her painted nails lifted away and he could see her palm already getting smaller around him, the grain of her skin slowly moving closer as it shrank. At the same time, he felt himself falling, which after a moment made sense. She was obviously getting smaller, much smaller. After several seconds, he saw the horizon, the real one from the ground, coming up around him. He felt his falling slow, and noticed her standing up, as her transformation neared its conclusion. 

One thing he didn't anticipate, however, was how the smaller her palm became, the more he feared of falling off. As the edges reached only a few feet away from him, seeing the sixty foot fall to the ground made him wish she would stop getting smaller. Which thankfully she finally did. Not that she was small, it's just that minutes ago her palm was like a five city block island. Now it was only five or six feet across, his feet dangling off the edge. The previously noisy sound of gusty wind at eight thousand feet was gone, replaced by serene quiet. She looked down at him from twenty or thirty feet up, her face merely eight or nine feet tall now, as he tried yelling again, "I like the Pink." She smiled, obviously hearing him. 

He braced for safety as he felt himself rising, only stopping once he was held directly in front of her still oversize face. Here lip-rings down to the size of mere playground equipment. "I'm glad you like it, here." Huge fingers, complete with pink-painted fingernails appeared from below, two set down around him, another held in mid-air for him to admire. "It was tough not getting black, but I think they are friendlier, you know?" Her finger was not as wide as his body, but it might as well have been. He reached out to touch the thick edge of her nail, and feel something other than her palm for the first time. It was surreal that this round meaty flesh too big to span his hands around was his girlfriend's finger. "Well? Don't I get a hug?"

Ricardo felt a little perplexed at first, then staring at the huge finger held in front of him, he understood her meaning and felt silly. Her face told the story, he wasn't going anywhere until he hugged, her finger. He reached out and pulled it towards him in a motion that was familiar, applied in an entirely unfamiliar way. Her finger didn't so much approach him as bowl him over, as he was forced to lie back and hug around it's girth. A moment later he was squeezed and held, one finger lying flat against the length of his body, another against him on each side. "Ohh sweetie, I missed you so much." She tipped him up to face her, held vertically as she gently rocked her hand back and forth against him. 

The eighty foot fall to the ground was only a footnote to feeling her finger pressing against him from his face to his crotch. No sooner than he thought it, his body moved, instinctively rubbing into her. She obviously felt it. "Ohh, sweetie." Her voice thick with mockery. She rubbed her finger up and down against him suggestively. "Really? I've never finger humped someone in public before." She rubbed him again several times. "Wouldn't you prefer something more private?" He could tell she wasn't really asking, but he nodded his head.

In one smooth motion, he felt fingers recede from atop him, and her hand grip around him from behind. His arms draped over her grip, he got his first view straight down, and it freaked the hell out of him. He held onto the huge fingers gripping him for dear life. He yelled up to her. "Uhm, Kat. Please don't drop me." Her face had a sinister grin as she dangled him back and forth, threatening exactly that. 

"Ohh but Ricardo. You're going to totally love it." He was pretty sure she wasn't going to kill him, but he wasn't sure what that meant. She pulled him in, laying her lips into his tummy in an affectionate kiss, before he felt her grip loosening. He had a view over his shoulder as his whole body tensed, trying futily to hold onto her fingers as they peeled away. For a moment the curve and friction of her palm held him, as he tried to turn and scramble for anything to hold onto. Then he slid, fright filling him as he imagined the long fall to the ground below. He looked up to see her smiling down at him, wondering what she could possibly be thinking, when he felt himself falling towards her body. He reached out, hoping he'd grab a hold on something as he fell against her. Surely she was just toying with him. His hands and feet found skin, too slick to grab. Milliseconds seemed like to stretch as he slid down her, finally realizing what was happening.

Even before he stopped, he could see the neckline of her dress, held away from her body to make room for him. He slid for a few moments more on her chest before his feet hit the fabric, causing him to fall back against the inside of her dress. It cradled him directly opposite her bare breast and nipple. Suddenly, he felt even smaller. The areola was wider than he was, the size of a washing machine door, or a large peperoni pizza. "I know hun, they are still kinda flat," he looked up to see her peeking down at him through the opening. "But you have to admit they are bigger. Go ahead. No giantess fetish would be complete without a good giant nipple sucking." He looked at her, then looked at the shape of her nipple in front of him, daunted.

"Here, let me help you get started." He looked up in time to see her lick her fingers before sending them down towards him. He felt like he should get out of the way of a hand several times bigger than him as she ribbed her fingers against herself. A few seconds later, the giant hand rose away, revealing the hard protruding result. He was simply astonished that this was actually happening. He pressed against the fabric, unable to actually stand up, until he felt her hand helping from behind. A moment later he had his hands around it. It was a strange sensation. Subtle texture in the skin amplified to ridges; his hands not even wrapping around it; and firm, like grasping some caricature world's fair giant sausage. He set his lips against it to an even more awkward feeling. Almost like mouthing the arm of a giant warm leather couch. She jolted, and that nipple socked him in the chin and the chest as she giggled, "that tickled." He made another attempt, placing as much of his tongue against it as he could, licking the front of it. She giggled again, thankfully controlling her body movement this time. 

Her support ended and he fell back into the fabric again. "Well, is it everything you hoped?" He didn't want to admit it wasn't, but his face must have showed the answer. "No kidding right? This giantess thing is tougher than I thought!" Her lips pursed in frustration. "What do you say we just head back to your apartment, and I can shrink back to just abnormally tall and sexy?" She looked down through the gap she still held open between her dress and her giant bare breast.

"Watching you catch that plane was unbelievably sexy, but yes I think that would be excellent." He paused, finding the words, "but Kat? I'd like to ride in here if you don't mind." She just smiled back down at him before he felt fingers grasping at him through the fabric. A moment later he was held up against her breast, darkness descended around him as she let the fabric against herself, as he could feel the up-down cadence of her walk. Her nipple was still a little hard, pressing into his tummy. He clawed against her, trying to climb a bit higher. He figured she must have felt it, because she lifted him higher until the discomfort was gone. It was replaced by the much more erotic sensation of riding her huge nipple. He squeezed his legs around it, and she must have felt it because he felt it harden in response. It was there, cradled against a breast much larger than he was, that he fell asleep. 

"Ricardo," he heard the unfamiliar voice as he felt a poke in his shoulder. "Ricardo, wake up." His eyes opened, squinting at the bright light of his surroundings, trying to understand where he was. Bright holes of light, dark shapes. It was entirely unfamiliar at first, then he recognized it. "Ricardo, we're here in Chicago. Time to disembark." He was back on the plane. It had all been a dream. 

He grabbed his things out of the overhead bin. As he walked through the empty aisles of the plane, he thought about what he realized had been a vivid dream. It had been so real, so tangible. It was hard to forget it, hard to realize it had all been his imagination. He stepped from the jetbridge to see Kat smiling and waiting for him. He blinked his eyes hard. Her hair was Pink. It was a strange sight that seemed to make him wonder again about his dream. He stepped up to her, dropping his carryon and hoisting her into his arms. "Kat, you are serious trouble." 

She whispered under her breath, "so you liked my emails then?" He nodded mid-hug, before setting her down and re-collecting his things. They walked, hand in hand, through the airport. Ricardo felt like his bladder was going to burst, and on the way to the restroom he couldn't think about anything else.