Chapter 28:

Jackie commanded me to kiss every millimeter of her giant feet. That might not seem like a huge task but trust me, it was. Her feet were as long as a basketball court would’ve been to me when I was still five feet tall. Imagine kissing every single spot on a basketball court. It’d take a while. 

For me, kissing Jackie’s one foot was a three-hour long task. Sometimes she watched me with a lovey-dovey look in her eye, and the rest of the time she caught up on her homework. The first two hours of foot smooching, I enjoyed myself wholeheartedly. I put an enormous amount of effort in, really pressing my lips against her skin so she would feel me. 

“Do you feel me?” I asked every few minutes to make sure.

“A little,” she said, smiling down at me each time. 

For the last hour, my lips were getting sore. I slowed down enough for her to notice and point it out. 

“Are you getting tired?”

“No, Goddess,” I breathed heavily. 

“You’re getting tired. Take a rest.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Get back to kissin’. I’ll be done in a few minutes with this assignment. Then we can do something else.”

The way she toyed with me was so fucking hot. The casual authority she projected sent tingles of pleasure all throughout my body. From then on, I had no problem pushing through my exhaustion.

As I continued kissing her feet, Jackie was clacking away on her laptop keyboard. Since our mutual size kink normally dominated our conversation, I decided to show some interest in her assignment.

“What are you working on, Jackie?” I asked. 

She looked away from her computer screen and down at me. She was surprised. Surprised that I’d even asked her. 

“Do you really care?”

I was almost offended. How shallow did she think I was? I paused my foot worship and stood up to return her gaze. Right then was perhaps the first time I saw real insecurity on her face. Her eyes were shiny with the first showings of tears. She was neither smiling nor frowning. She was waiting. Waiting to see what I would say.

“Of course I care! Lift me up so I can proofread whatever you’re doing!”

She wiped her eyes, wetness spilling over onto her gorgeous white cheeks. She smiled once again, her insecurity melting away with my enthusiasm for something other than her looks or her size. 

“OK,” she said in choked-up voice.

She plucked me off her foot and sat me in front of her computer screen. She was working on a story for the school newspaper, The Hoya. It was about how the school was unfairly sparing athletes from tickets when they parked illegally. My interest was piqued even though I couldn’t even drive a moped, let alone a full-sized car.

Jackie actually had to zoom in so I could even see the words, because my tiny eyes couldn’t read the words from what was around 50 feet away for me. 

She let me read the whole story in silence, scrolling down when I told her to. When I was done, I turned to her and said:

“Will you let me give you feedback without squashing me?”

She rolled her eyes at my joke. “Yes, Desmond. I won’t squash you.”

“The body of the story is great, Jackie. You have all important facts and information. But you don’t have a strong lede or a strong kicker. You have to draw people in, then leave them with something pithy.”

Her mouth hung open. “You’ve been listening when I go on and on about what I learn in my journalism classes?! Ledes, kickers? You know about all that?” 

“Yup, I know all about it. Ledes are introductory statements that are meant to give all the most important information, and kickers are the ending lines that summarize the whole story.”

She fell back in her chair, staring at the speck sitting on her desk that was her boyfriend. I could tell she was genuinely impressed.

“Wow, you really do listen when I talk. You’re so different than Carter.”

“Your ex-boyfriend?” I asked, trying not to sound panicked at the mere mention of the man she used to date. 

“Yes, he is.”

“So, I listen better than he does?”

She straightened herself in her chair then leaned over me, covering me in her shadow. “Much better, Dessy. I would tell him about my day, then next thing you know he was texting his buddies about mountain biking or going to the gym. He was always so scatterbrained. Never able to focus on one thing at a time. Unless it was beer or mountain biking. God, did he love that stupid bike of his.”

Ironically, as she was talking about how well I listened, I wasn’t really listening. All I heard was mountain biking, going to the gym, and beer. That was enough for me to categorize him as more manly than me. All I ever did when I was five feet tall was play video games, read books, and get my ass beat by my younger sister. 

When she was done soliloquizing about her strapping ex-boyfriend, I blurted out a question I regretted as soon as I asked it.

“Why didn’t you shrink him?”

She didn’t seem too perturbed by that question though. She saw it as an opportunity to flirt. 

“I didn’t shrink him because, unlike you, he wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

I was elated. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? Before I had my epic growth spurt that made me five whole inches taller than him, Carter was a twig. Just like you. I mean he was a lot taller than you, but that’s beside the point. He saw that I was getting bigger and stronger than him, and he felt he needed to compensate. That’s why he went to the gym constantly. To get bigger and to avoid his girlfriend, who he knew could kick his ass. Carter was never secure about our relationship, and that’s why I dumped him when I went off to college. In fact, I should have dumped him way sooner.”

“Well, what about in the limo to the party for me when you said you’d entertain striking up a romance with him if we didn’t stay together?”

“Oooh, you remember that?” she asked, tutting her tongue at me. She poked me playfully, knocking me on my ass. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy here?”

“No! I just, um, wanted to, um, know why you said that.”

She picked me up and dropped me into her palm. I zoomed right up to her eye level, and her gorgeous, shiny blonde hair closed like curtains around me and her giant face. This level of intimacy could only be achieved between an inch-tall man and a damn near 12-foot-tall woman. 

“Dessy, you have absolutely nothing to worry about, OK? I said that to him to placate him. Carter was not, is not, and will not ever be the guy for me. You are.”

I blushed, feeling silly for betraying my envy. “OK.”

“You do realize that if I shrunk Carter, all he would do bitch and moan about not being able to reach the handlebars on his bike and how he couldn’t do deadlifts anymore and how I was so much taller than him. Ughh, it would be horrible! But you never complain. You…like being smaller than me.”

“And you like being bigger than me,” I said. 

“Yes, I do.” She kissed me, rubbing my naked body all over her lips. Her lipstick began coating every inch of my skin, but I didn’t mind. All I cared about was having my face pressed up against her pillowy lips. 

But she stopped making out with me quite abruptly, moving her palm out of the sanctuary her hair provided me, and rested it back on her desk. I climbed off at her direction. 

“So, I know we both wanna keep kissing, but I’m on deadline here. So, tell me, how can I make my story better, my little copyeditor?”