The uneventful (at least to outside viewers) situation between Tloche and Pacho lulled them into a comforting, if dull routine. By now, Tloche had been able to speak to her little guest enough to gather that he was not part of the spearhead of an alien invasion (or at least that is what he would say, Trano’s voice in her head seemed to argue).
In any case, Pacho was so cute and helpless, and seemingly so guileless that it was impossible (to Tloche) to imagine him a part of a nefarious plot to enslave humanity. He did not have any advanced gizmos or uncanny powers to show off, he had no (visible) mechanical parts and his animal and human needs seemed human and undeniable enough… as were hers.
Tloche was now in an almost unbearable state of attraction towards Paat-shoh. This made her mind and heart a jumble of conflicting emotions. On one hand, Paat-shoh was clearly an adult man, grown up enough to be doing atmospheric research in a university, as he hastened to clarify after her asking him if he was an astronaut; he was clear that his downed craft, though advanced relative to what Lur had to offer, was not an interstellar spaceship.
On the other hand, their size difference would make any advances toward him (and Gods, was she ever poised to advance) an abuse if he did not initiate, as the power imbalance was too high. It was too easy to force herself on the tiny man against his will, as he would be powerless and possibly too afraid of the repercussions of angering a giant, lumbering monster like her to be completely honest with Tloche.
Even more, her own twisted night dreams (there was plenty of daydreaming about it, too) about having the little man explore and climb her body as that commercial she saw on the big screen when a teenager made her both incredibly turned on and ashamed of herself. She had even facilitated things for him when she decided to put the chair he slept in touching her bed so if he wanted to hop to the mattress when she was asleep he could do it safely. So far, he had either not caught on or had been unwilling to try it.
So tonight, as every night before, she bid Paat-shoh good night and turned her back on him on the bed as she could not take her eyes off him if she lay down facing him. She even ditched the covers except to warm her feet and slept in loose shorts and a sleeping camisole with nothing else under, and she imagined, quivering with excitement, Paat-shoh’s eyes looking her over, being seduced and, finally deciding to willingly bridging the gap between them.
Her thighs and breasts tingled with pent excitement as she imagined the incredible thrill of feeling Paat-shoh’s warm, manly body squirming under the covers, making contact with her skin and crawling up her shorts’ leg, how her nether hair would tickle as he crawled through and parted with his body her splooshing unmentionables, or she imagined him wriggling between her breasts, or latching his burning hands and mouth into an itching nipple…. Cut it out!, she thought, this fantasies are getting you nowhere, and you will end up losing control around him and making him fear or be disgusted by you!
Indeed, her greatest fear was that her giant body, hairs, fluids and pores (not to mention the smell, face heating with embarrassment) and who knows how many details she could not even perceive about herself would be too gross and in-your-face to be sexy. She had barely restrained herself to take off her shirt with him around as she changed for bed, thinking her jiggling chest (each one was way bigger than him) could be grotesque to him.
She was certain that no man could find exciting to be plunged headlong into the musky, slimy crevice between her mammoth, fatter than tree-trunks thighs to be drowned by the sticky goo she knew she could generate embarrassing amounts of. Even her most delicate, chaste kiss would probably seem slobbery to a poor, overwhelmed Paat-shoh, and she did have in mind well beyond that, her lips and tongue quivering with anticipation as she imagined her exploring his face, mouth and indeed entire head with her mouth…. I said stop! And you’re thinking only of himself… how will he be able to get release from me? I do not trust my clumsy fingers to jerk off his cute thingy, and my mouth and tongue would leave him raw…
The guilt and repressed sex drive (it had been over a year since she last had sex) had her mentally exhausted and about to explode, and also very cranky. The ladies’ room was always too crowded at work and at the boarding house to be able to give herself much needed release in the form of a good self-fondling session. Paat-shoh was always in her room with her. She could not leave Paat-shoh for too long in the library with anyone inside her fanny pack to go explore elsewhere in the campus for a secluded, less used place to masturbate… it was driving her crazy. In this uneasy frame of mind, she finally fell asleep to dream of the same.
***
Paat-shoh was not as wound up, as he had taken the time when he bathed alone to relieve himself a few times, with no less shame than Tloche, and taking good care of making any evidence of his seed disappear before she caught him. He thought he would die of shame if she even suspected he was jerking himself off atop her table, in the bathwater and of course, thinking of her. He was, as always, staring at Tloche’s magnificent thighs, hips and back facing him as she fidgeted in bed. It was tantalizing that he had only to take a few steps and he could be touching her bottom. Unable to sleep, he got out of bed, leaving his ridiculous purple pants on his makeshift cot. He stood there, naked in the semidarkness of the colossal room, staring at the colossal beauty in front of him, and before he even knew it, he had stepped of the chair and was standing on the sheets.
He could smell her perfume and feel the amazing heat she gave off. Her hips were several meters tall, looming round, shapely and inviting, just meters in front of him. He snapped out of it, aware he was committing an indiscretion, and conscious that his throbbing arousal was not conductive to thinking clearly. He just stood there for a few moments, drinking in the unbelievably sight of a scantily-clad, young and hot girl in bed beside him, and yet so out of his league, he who was dwarfed by any of her tits, her mere nipples longer and thicker than his dick, even as swollen as it was now.
Before he turned back to his bed, Tloche tossed in bed and ended up on her side facing him, the bed creaking ominously and her arm landed with a thud too close for comfort, almost giving him a heart attack. He looked anxiously at her face, but she was adorably asleep, with her mouth half open, breathing heavily. Then, eyes widening, he realized one of the buttons of her camisole had come undone and he could see the round contours of a heavy breast, flattened by Tloche’s titanic weight, laying on top of the other. Face flush with shame, he averted his face and started to turn away when the arm that had almost squashed him before moved and, with slow but irresistible force, knocked him out of the bed.
He barely had time to suppress an unmanly scream as he plummeted to the floor. But he did not die. Although it was a fall of more than five meters, amazingly, he landed on his feet and barely stumbled. He looked up in amazement as he realized that the lower gravity of this planet, Lur, as the natives called it, had saved him. He jumped, again amazingly lifting more than a meter from the floor, but the covers and therefore the means to climb the bed and to his chair again were still out of his reach. Annoyed at possibly having to spend the night on the cold tiles and too embarrassed to call for help while naked and having to explain himself, he looked around for options, when he noticed light ahead, coming from under the bed.