Once we were signed in we had to get our stuff to our room. Obviously we would need bellhops to help. The two cute guys working near the desk at the time were quick to offer their services. I realized pretty quickly of course that they were totally flirting with me (I tend to bring that out in guys of all heights!) and I don’t mind. I hugged them both and even playfully pinched their cheeks implying they may get me to kiss them (or more!) as they dreamily carried our baggage up to our room. As they put the stuff down, I did in fact kiss them, as I knew that would only insure their continued good service. I may be tall, but I know how to flirt too, using my height and guys’ fascination with it, to my advantage!
So as the guys left and Georgie and I began to unpack, my suitcase on the bed, his on the floor, and we began to move the beds around, one mattress to the floor, I hadn’t noticed G get all undressed and head to the bathroom. He came out, though, barefoot, and a small hand towel wrapped around him, a minute later. I was still bent over my suitcase on the bed, my back to him, so hadn’t even heard him as he cleared his throat and said, “Umm, Lexie, we kinda need to talk.”
I turned around, looked way down in his direction, and said “Shoot. What’s up?”
“Well,” he started, stammered really, “I kinda need your help in the bathroom. I can’t reach the toilet, sink or shower at all.”
“O my God, what a bummer, right? Here, even in this great hotel with conveniences for little people they still haven’t gotten everything right. OK, what kinda help exactly?”
Basically he asked me to get him an infant (extra-small) toilet seat and a higher mini-stool so he could reach. Otherwise he’d need to relieve himself in the bathtub. I told him that should be no problem, I’d have room service bring up appropriate accessories.
But then he asked me if I could hold him in the shower because the stool didn’t help him reach the faucets, let alone the shower head, and it would be too difficult to maneuver there on his own, even if I had left them on for him.
At this point, I got a little bothered. “Wait, “ I said, as I stood up to my full height, looking down at little G, standing there barefoot, nearly shaking in his hand towel, looking way up at what must still be to him my awesome, intimidating, stature. I had my arms crossed, with a scowl on my face like an annoyed 6 year old, as I stared down hard at him. “You want me to hold you in the shower as I stand naked too, just so you could shower?”
I realized I was intimidating him, not just because of the awesome differences in our heights, and the added humiliation of his being nearly naked and barefoot, but for begging me for a rather unusual filial request. But I couldn’t help it. He was asking for something that was rather unusual, even if it was simple and a rather easy thing for me to do. I mean I’ve seen him in all his little glory, and he’s seen my boobs before, but I had never before been stark naked with him at the same time. Taking a shower together was kinda pushing the limits of what a brother and sister should do. Even if one of them was insect size.
In the end, though, I broke. I love him too much and he was asking from a very innocent place, so I couldn’t let him down. What else was he supposed to do? Go a few days without showering just because he couldn’t reach the faucets? Seemed too harsh.
As it was, I needed to shower too, so I quickly undressed and walked in to the bathroom, Georgie shuffling in behind me. As I walked into the tub, and reached down to pick G over the edge which he couldn’t step over -- I realized too late that my boobs pretty much jiggled right in his face, but what could I do? -- and let him down near my feet, I looked down at his tiny, umm, self, and thought, wow, this is sooo wrong. The hair on my head is auburn (had I mentioned that yet?) but my bush is black and it was staring down at him and his nearly entirely hairless body as smooth as a newborn’s, as he stared, unabashedly, way up in its direction. As I said, he’s seen my boobs before, perhaps not so recently since they’ve grown a bit in the last few weeks, but probably never my bush, and definitely not both at once. I realized then that one of my boobs was larger than his entire head. While this had probably been true for a while already, I guess I had never put the two, umm, together. He swallowed hard, I could tell, but tried not to let my womanhood, and the awkwardness of the situation, distract him from our shower plans.
And, then, almost magically, as I examined him far below me, and he upwards at me, we both burst out laughing! “You know,” I teased him, “even for a little guy, dude, you are really really small!” “Well, thank you very much for reminding me, LexieTooLong. You know for a tall girl, you are really really huge!” As we laughed some more, he hugged my calf muscle (in gratitude?), clearly rubbing up against it a bit more than necessary. I wasn’t gonna call him on it, but I got why he suddenly felt the urge to do so. It was an emotional moment for the both of us and his tiny self hardly has moments of sexual relief.
“You have to lift me up, because there is no way I want to wash off of your dirty water.”
Haha, he is so cute, but he’s right: if I had left him down at my feet the only water reaching him would’ve been what had run down and over me. I picked him, held him as he sat, legs outstretched on my palm, under the stream and washed up. Then I asked him to hold onto the shower pipe above my head as I had to shampoo myself. He clung to the pipe, his tiny feet pretty much in my eyes, as I shampooed, while begging me forgiveness for having to go through this with him. I told him he’d owe me one, haha, but that it was fine. What else was a giant sister good for? Afterwards I gently placed him down near my feet so I could finish up washing out the shampoo. Looking down at one point, I suddenly started feeling kinda aroused – here was an adult man in front of me in all his glory! – and my calf muscle near his body tensed, and I felt and fingered myself up far above him. Had he noticed? I wasn’t sure, but I was relieved when I felt ready to leave the tub. I’d like to think he was too.
After we dried off, he again begged me forgiveness for having almost forced me to do that, but I waved him off, telling him it was fine, and, besides, we would probably have to do that a few more times before the convention ended. I’ve been naked, or partly naked, before with him, but it has never been so sexually arousing as that first day in the shower. He’s my brother, I know, but as a tiny almost doll-size man, it’s often almost too easy to think of him, I’m embarrassed to say, but as a sex toy. He is obviously too big (ha! Funny hearing that about G!) to fit anywhere *in* my body, but his being undressed near me at the same time that I was undressed as well, awakened in me desires I had never realized before. I hope he can forgive me for these thoughts.
Once we were cleaned and dried up, we made our way down to the convention center proper. G walked on his own to the sessions he had signed up for, and me, I decided to take it easy and head over to the café. I was suddenly surrounded by lots and lots of little people. It seems a giantess like me (haha) attracts crowds of little people. Not sure why they hadn’t gone themselves to the sessions, I was only expecting the other non-LP family members to be there, maybe some friends as well, or even non-convention guests, but somewhere deep inside me I was glad it was more than just the non-LPs. Eric was there too, cute guy, and as I sat down in one of the comfy couches in the lounge away from the crowd he walked up to me, put his arms around my knees and stretched out his tiny arm as in an invitation to pull me up (as if he could physically do that! Ha!). I declined, looking down at the little man, telling him I was tired, and just wanted to sit. Besides, it was easier to talk to him from this height – I was still much taller than him as I sat, but it was obviously much less than it would have been had I stood. I think it would have required too much maneuvering for him to climb up onto the couch, and he hadn’t thought it worth the trouble. I didn’t want to embarrass him by offering to help him up so he just stood there while I talked to him (was that wrong of me??).
After a while of chatting, I stood up, and Eric looked really excited as he stared way up and said, “hey, can I get you a drink?” I’m not sure how long Eric’s legs are but they seem really very short, probably because, being so much heavier than Georgie’s although probably not much longer, they seemed tiny in comparison to a normal person’s - so as I walk he literally has to shuffle - maybe waddle is a better verb, although its implication isn’t too flattering - to keep up with me. I walked him all the way to the nearby bar and smiling, looked down at him as I tried to mentally estimate the calisthenics it would require of him to climb up the bar stool.
“Eric, darling, how are you ever going to get up here?”
Without missing a beat, he said, in as suave a way as possible for an adult who is just 2’6, “you may just have to lift me up there, Stretch!”
I laughed and reached down. Now, lifting Georgie is no problem as the little guy weights less than 9 pounds, but Eric was much heftier, probably something like a bit less than around 40 pounds. I did it, but it did require a bit more effort than I was used to. I seated him on the stool and, still standing, looked down at him and asked, “You know I’m only 17 so I can’t really drink here, right?” He knew, and told me he would get me a soda, whatever I wanted. We sat, talked and drank together for a bit and then I asked to be excused so I could use the bathroom.
When I returned my little friend was nowhere to be seen. At least, that is, from my height. I scanned the floor all over and finally noticed him trying to lift himself up into one of the chairs in the hall. I called to him and he shuffled (waddled? wobbled? One of those) over to me, probably only too glad not to have to humiliate himself more. I told, rather than asked, him to keep me company as I wanted to walk outside in the open air (unfortunately there’s no beach in Boston!). He readily agreed. So my 2’6 little friend and I went walking outside. At his size, he probably doesn’t get to walk alone outside too often with anyone other than his “handler” so I could tell how welcome the opportunity was to walk with me.
A minute into our walk, however, the little man surprised me by looking up and just declaring, “I want to see your boobs!” To say I was flabbergasted would not be an exaggeration. Eric was my friend, I thought, and friends don’t just say that to one another. I think. Am I wrong about that? Well, not to let him see me surprised, I just looked down at him, and said “you know, Eric babe, I am fine with showing guys my breasts, but the guy has to at least be able to touch my ass. I am afraid, little man, you don’t qualify!” With a resigned look, but a good humored smile, he responded “oo man! Sooo not fair!” I bent down and gently touched his shoulder, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Them’s the breaks, kid.” I did like his spunk, even if I wasn’t exactly in the mood just then to expose my girls to a knee-high man.
Then, at one point I saw a girl, probably close to my age, walking her dog, so I wandered over in her direction. She was a redhead, on the tall side, probably 6’ or 6’1, so I felt like I may finally have someone I could talk to without feeling like a giant. Kimberly, as I was soon to learn, was a native Bostonian and was intrigued to hear there even was such a thing as a little peoples’ conference, let alone one so close by in the nearby hotel. She was walking her dog, a large Great Dane, clearly over a foot taller than Eric. As I walked up and introduced myself and Eric, I could tell she was a bit shaken at seeing two people of probably the greatest variations of height she had ever seen. As she bent down, and then squatted, to shake Eric’s hand with one of her fingers, he told her “wow, you’ve got a really big dog!” To which she smilingly responded, as she stood tall again, “I have a feeling most dogs would look big to you, Eric!” Thankfully, Eric took this very well.
We walked together, perhaps even in synch, although much slower than we would have normally thereby letting little Eric walk with us, between us really, nearly knee height to us and behind the tall dog and its leash. We talked and laughed; I quickly felt that I had found a real friend. She was surprised to learn that I had come to the conference for the sake of a family member. “You mean not everyone in your family is so amazingly tall?” I told her no, that my older brother was a little person, and then she confidently whispered to me, “ya, but I bet he’s nowhere as small as Eric, right?” Well, at this point, Eric looked up defiantly towards us and started laughing. “Wow, tall girl, you’ve got a lot to learn!” I told her how G was eight years older than me but more than a foot shorter than even Eric, and that he was the recognized world’s shortest living adult, and that in a year or so when I turn 18 and become eligible, we both would be entered into the Guinness World Records for siblings with the greatest variation in heights.
Kimberly was excited to hear this, and mentioned how eager she was to meet Georgie. “And what about me??,” pouted Eric in good nature. Kimberly, from far above, smiled down and mouthed “you are so cute, baby.” “Eric, darling,“ I said, “how often do you get to walk with not one but two really tall beautiful women such as us? So stop pouting little man! And, Kim, definitely stop by the hotel in the next day or two and I will be happy to introduce you to lots of great people, including my teeny tiny brother.” Kim squealed with delight at this, and then, because Eric had grown tired of walking (tiny legs only have so much energy), we decided to turn back to the hotel. We hugged our goodbyes (Kim’s dog even licked Eric on top of his head) and I walked side by side with a cute bearded man who couldn’t reach my ass if he tried.