As Mark laid between Zava’s breasts, both fell into a companionable silence. Eyes closed, she languorously kept caressing and feeling Mark’s tiny, hard body with the tips of her fingers, running her very fingertips up and down his lover’s frame, back, bottom and legs, sometimes pressing only a smidgen harder when she wanted to feel him up some more.

Mark, on his part, lying on his side, tried to snuggle close to Zava’s left breast, running his arm and hand against its warm, supple surface, covered by very small, soft, transparent little hairs. Zava was almost purring like a cat in her contentedness and Mark felt without a care in the world, like those alligators in the circus that the tamer hypnotized by rubbing their bellies.

Despite her size, Zava’s touch was light as a feather and softer than down. Her only slightly long nails added a slight more substance to her touch but their round edges did not hurt Mark. He felt himself dozing off… however, he resisted, he wanted to enjoy more of his massive lover. He now felt Zava’s hand had stopped moving and her warm fingers now rested on him.

“I think I know where I’ll live” he offered, sleepily. “I wouldn’t mind camping among these beauties for a week”, he added, patting her pliant tit.

No answer.

Thinking perhaps his boob pun had fallen flat, he tried to turn and see Zava’s eyes, but from his perspective he could only see the underside of her chin. He tried to extricate himself from the girl’s limp fingers… only to be slightly trapped between them and her left tit falling on him as Zava rolled to her right side, unconsciously grabbing him a little tighter against her bosom to prevent his fall onto the mattress. After a prolonged exhalation, she then stopped moving, and her slow, deep breaths confirming Mark’s suspicions: she was now out cold. Not really wanting to wake her, with some effort, he finally emerged from her grasp, sliding off her body into the mattress.  As the snoozing giantess felt him escape him, she sleepily moved her arms forward, her right arm sliding on the pillow, her left arm remaining on the mattress, extended in front of her. He could now see that Zava had curled her left leg towards her chest, her knee touching her right hand, while the other leg was curled backwards.

Mark wanted to reach the pillow to lay there and watch her sleep and be ready when she woke up. He also did not want to remain where he was as Zava was obviously a restless sleeper, and he did not want to be trapped under her. His former misgivings of being crushed by her when sharing a bed were now somewhat assuaged, as her womanly flesh was probably too supple to flatten him without feeling his struggles.

In a pinch, he thought wryly, I could pinch her, anyway, if need arises. Rising to his feet, he bumped into something soft with his head, bouncing off it. Standing back a little and looking up, he realized he had hit her right nipple with his head.

At rest, Zava’s nipple was now only roughly the size of his fist, though now that it was in front of him, he saw the areola was as large as a truck’s hubcap. He raised his hand and ran his fingertips lightly on her areola, seeing with satisfaction how the nipple slowly but visibly contracted and grew as a reaction.  

He also ran his other hand on the underside of her breast, but stopped as Zava started to fidget. He did not want to disturb her rest. He kissed her nipple and turned from it to consider what route to take to get near her face on the pillow. The direct route was blocked by her arms, and he did not want to climb over them and wake her. He then headed for the foot of the bed, to surround her legs and approach her head.

Passing under her sprawled left thigh, Mark caught sight of her slit as the giant woman lay carelessly sprawled sideways on the bed. Now that she was asleep, he gawked uninhibited at the moist crevice. It was at least as long as he was. Enthralled, he thought he could stare at it all day. It started near him and teasingly near his face and in reach of his eager hands with her protuberant clitoral hood. The black curly pussy hairs were a lot sparser towards her vaginal opening, barely visible among the farthest commissure of her thick labia.

Now that he had been partly inside her, he was completely sure Zava’s love tunnel was completely capable of swallow him whole, without a trace and without any complaints on his part. It was almost impossible to resist the temptation to reach out and cop a feel of what he could of her alluring womanhood, but he was sure any touch in her more sensitive area would surely startle Zava awake.

Snapping himself out of the pussy-gazing induced trance, he headed down the bed and, surrounding her sprawled left leg, and finally made it to her pillow near Zava’s winsome face. Unlike the first time he had seen her sleeping, Zava’s dreaming countenance was now sporting a contented little smirk that brought a simper to Marks lips. Things had gone, incredibly, well beyond his wildest dreams. He vowed to himself to make her happy, whatever the cost to himself. He approached her face even more, and deposited a loving kiss on her lower lip, while caressing her upper lip, nose tip and velvety cheek. 

Feeling his caresses, Zava’s lips parted slightly, and Mark observed, amazed, how her large, pink tongue came out and licked lightly at her lips before retracting inside her cavernous mouth, inside of which he was sure he would leisurely fit. Mark’s lay down, snuggling against the cheek Zava had against the pillow, and after a few minutes of enjoying her scent, softness and warmth, fell deeply asleep.

A few minutes later, Zava slowly came out of the most soothing nap she had had in months. Rolling on her back, she again stared at the ceiling. Her mind still sluggish, Zava felt something started to nag at the back of her awareness…

Suddenly, she touched her chest, distressed when she remembered who should have been laying there. Her fingers groped at her boobs fruitlessly. She was alone. Had it all been a dream, AGAIN? Or worse… Shit, don’t tell me I… is he… had she rolled in her sleep and crushed him?

 She did not want to look, so, fighting back panic and tears, she gingerly started to feel around her around the mattress, her body rigid and very still, praying to the Gods she did not believe in not to feel the mangled little carcass of the man she loved under her fingers. Again, nothing. Propping herself on her elbows, she lifted her head off the pillow.

The experience of having Mark again with her had felt so good and fulfilling as to feel unreal… the touch of his little hands in her most sensitive areas, his tight body in her fingers, the sight of his eager eyes enjoying her nakedness… and the (so nice!) feel of his little, hard and throbbing manhood in her fingers and mouth…. the mindless desire coursing out of her to please and be pleased by her lover… had it all been real?

An even worse thought bubbled into her mind: Maybe he changed his mind or maybe he lied… he used me and left… or instead… was he afraid after I used him down there and decided to escape before next time I lose control completely and smother him with my cunt? Where is he?

Looking sideways, Zava caught sight of Mark’s backpack on the nightstand and then, with infinite relief, she saw him laying sprawled on the pillow, next to the hollow left by her head on it. The little guy had moved there, no doubt wanting to be nearer her face. Getting off the bed and kneeling beside it, she put her hair behind her ears, so it did not fall down on mark as she got her face closer.

She then carefully dragged the pillow to the edge of the bed so she could look at him closely. He was deep in slumber, lying on his back. She could still see some of her fluids caked to his short-cropped blond hair and the fuzzy, likewise dark blond chest hair.

From his chest, which a tempting strip of darker hairs ran to his belly button and beyond, through his ripped and slim stomach to nestle between his thick, muscular and now lightly parted thighs, from between which his member sprung, laying flaccid on his abdomen, slightly sideways to the left. It changes so much in size and girth when it rises!

Getting her face closer to her tiny paramour, she contemplated his delicate figure silently for a few minutes, still as a statue. I have a lover! I have a man in my bed! And he is so handsome, so kind, so brave!

He had given so much up to be with her! Zava could feel her chest almost bursting with love, affection and tenderness toward the little guy, her eyes blurry with tears. She could only imagine what he had to go through to reach her and leave behind everything and everyone he ever knew! Zava felt that she had to rise to the challenge of caring for Mark and making him keep loving her while keeping his sanity, as well.

She knew their life together would not be easy, particularly for Mark, who would now be completely dependent on her for her sustenance and safety (not that I mind!), and Zava would likely be, for the foreseeable future, his only contact to human society, as it was unlikely that she could show him (or talk about him!) to any of his friends, or even her parents, any time soon.

If and when they went outside together (I cannot keep him here on the house as a prisoner forever, I in his place would go mad in mere days from boredom!), he would have to remain carefully concealed, as if ANYONE caught sight of him the SID and the police would fall on them. She would go to prison for quite a few years, and Mark would surely perish under torture and the dissector’s scalpel... it was too horrible a fate to be contemplated, and she was determined to spare him that at any cost to her own comfort.

She could not have him in her fist all the time, he would get motion sickness and all sweaty from her hands. She supposed she could carry him around in a special purse or pocket inside a coat, or perhaps on her cleavage for a while. That is, if the day was not too hot, she could get quite sweaty and funky between her tits in the dry season.

Maybe we could fashion some kind of saddle attached to… I don’t know, the back of my head under my hair, my shoulder or the inside of my thigh if I wear a long skirt? We’ll discuss this together.

While she mused on all this, her fingers had found their way unbidden to Mark’s prone body, lightly caressing him from his face all the way to his tiny feet. She marveled at his delicate toes and fingers, delicately feeling his hands between index and thumb, and dabbing at his mouth with her fingertips, glimpsing his white little teeth.

She gazed long at his manly features despite his size. Before long, unable to contain herself, she held her previously moistened index finger to his (still) unaroused penis. Too small now, she struggled to hold it between her index and thumb, gazing in awe at this most alluring piece of his. I am already addicted to his cock… I feel like I could hold it, stare at it and kiss it all day long.

Incredibly, Mark did not wake up. Thank the Gods he is not a light sleeper. She wanted to play with him a little more with him helpless to stop her have her way. His member was starting to come alive at her efforts to get a rise out of him. She could feel it getting harder and her eyes opened wide when its moist, minute pink head started to peek from inside his foreskin.

Now fully erect, Mark’s cock throbbed red and swollen above his belly. Zava did not want to wake him up or startle him, but…  I want to see it shoot its load, she thought, wickedly. She did not want to hold his prick between her fingers, as they were too big and would cover most of what she wanted to see.

I’m pretty sure you did not finish when you went inside me last time. Let me return the favor!

She opened carefully one drawer from her nightstand and got out of it an old earring adorned with colorful little feathers that would fit on the tip of her finger. Carelessly ripping one of the feathers out of the earring, she deftly grabbed it in her thumb and forefinger and brought it up to the underside of Mark’s little cock and started tickling it.

Under her delicate attentions, his cock grew even redder, thicker and bigger, to her delight, throbbing and dripping its spidery threads from the tip on Mark’s belly and the feather, as she tickled it with the feather. She tickled the underside of its pulsating head, and twirled the soft feather on the head, a bit more rapidly.

Zava was breathing now as fast as Mark was, hypnotized at the sight of his beating member about to explode with her feathery tickling. After a surprisingly long while, and with a groan, Mark finally came, shooting a surprising amount of pearly liquid over Mark’s chest and as far as his chin…

Zava looked open mouthed as the erotic spectacle, gasping when she saw the result of her efforts. Dropping the feather in the nightstand, she reached out with her index and held the fleshy straw against Mark’s belly, rolling it under her finger and feeling it pulsate in release against her pad. I can’t get enough of him! I could eat him up right now!

Indeed, she wanted to feel him… all of him in her mouth… and elsewhere… but she contained herself. Mark was now awake, a groggy grin on his mouth… Zava’s gigantic, beaming face hovering above him was the first thing he saw, and she could see he was glad.

“What just happened??” He chortled, wiping his chin.