Actually, Becca was bluffing. She was afraid of heights but had long gotten over her rookie fears after all the helicopter travel and jobs he had to do over the years. In any case, she tried to suppress a shiver of fear at the prospect of being dozens of feet in the air… and nothing between the hard ground and herself but a hand… a giant hand, but how trustworthy was it? A single slip and she would be splattered on the hangar’s driveway… not everyone was indestructible like Zava.

… which again made O’Leary recall perhaps the thorniest subject in this interview, besides the giantess’s intimate activities with her fiancé: how had Zava survived what should have been a deadly explosion and a napalm inferno completely unscathed? Needless to say, this was not normal, and it had a lot of people worried, with good reason, Becca thought. The world is not prepared for an invulnerable, immortal being, and even less prepared for a giant, invulnerable, immortal one. And speaking of immortal, it was not inconceivable that the giant woman’s life span would be much longer than those of humans… human earthlings, at least. Zava’s very existence challenged humanity’s place in the universe, the sense of what was possible or not, and she was bound to have a big impact in humanity, perhaps with a presence spanning many future centuries. Everything about her was unprecedented.

Which begged the question: Was not an indestructible, deathless, supremely strong being, that can perhaps live forever, effectively a god, or a goddess, in this case? How long until people started worshipping her? And how long until the power, the years, got to the giant woman’s head? What would it be like outliving every acquaintance you made? Would she start to think of people as lesser, inconsequential and transitory beings?

“How shall we do this?” Zava’s sweet voice inquired from above, stopping Becca’s quick musings. “I’m told being picked up by me can be quite unsettling. To be sure, I do not like the idea of having people standing in the palm of my hand. I’d be afraid of dropping you. Grasping you only with two or three fingers also seems unsafe; also, my hands can sweat if I hold you for too long and that would stain your clothes”.

“Well, it would be only for a short time, as it would be awkward to talk to you from inside your fist longer than a few minutes, and all of us puny earthlings are going to get a crick on the neck real soon if we keep talking from your ankle’s height. Perhaps it would be best if you grabbed me with your whole fist from the waist down.  I’d keep my arms high, so they are not pinned, and I’d hold a handheld camera to take my POV of you picking me. We’d make a few takes from there and from the ground and then you could maybe sit down, and I would continue the interview from the upper platform of the scaffold once you put me there. Speaking of POV, we’d want to make a few takes of you looking down at us from your POV as well, though we’d have to think where we can strap the camera on your head”.

“Sounds cool. I think I’ll kneel to pick you up as bending over with this dress could be construed as indecent, and the height will be less for you as well”.

Becca and her crew set everything up and then she gave the thumbs up with both hands. Becca was a little dismayed when Zava, clearly unfamiliar with the gesture, looked at Mark for an explanation and he, from a distance, lifted his arms over his head with hands open, fingertips touching overhead in what was apparently the equivalent signal in Zava’s understanding.

Then the titanic brunette kneeled, and her hand, fingers splayed, extended towards the comparatively diminutive redhead.

**********

It had been a while since Zava had touched and picked up a little person other than Mark with her bare hands. Handling the clearly apprehensive and wide-eyed mini-woman was much different than grabbing her fiancé. Becca was much softer, and noticeably lighter; she also felt way more fragile than the brawny Mark. Zava deftly grabbed her first with three fingers and accommodated her in her fist before raising the little woman in front of her face with a slow but smooth movement. Zava could feel the little body in her hand tremble like a bird, warm and pliant between her fingers. Up close, the redhead was incredibly cute, with fiery, curly hair, very pale skin and extremely delicate, beautiful features with very red lips. This hair color was not very common in Bitagweh, Zava’s homeland, but it was not rare across the sea in the Eastern continent of Lur, and especially in the mountains south of Casibare.

Zava scrutinized the little woman, looking at her, wide, eyed in her hand, quite conscious of the redhead’s protuberant chest being flattened against her thumb. She remembered that time she had seen Mark’s friend, Betty, naked, and found herself curious of how Becca would look like nude in her hands. Out of simple curiosity, and not of any sexual attraction, Zava thought it would be interesting to be able to undress, examine and touch at leisure a naked little woman like Becca. Zava’s fertile imagination fueled by a healthy libido also thought it would be very exciting to have a little couple, man and woman, at her disposal to observe their sexual coupling in her hands, up close. When alone at home browsing the net she had inevitably found, rather by accident, porn, and had watched for a while, wide eyed at the incredible variety, before remembering all those people doing unspeakable things to each other were very small and not as big as they were projected in her big screen.

All this lasted but a few seconds before she remembered herself. The little redhead was looking at her in no less wonder.

“Are you comfortable?” Zava asked.

“Y-you were right, this is kind of scary. And being in your hand gets really warm, even hot”.

“Let’s drop you off, then”

Before things became awkward, and with a wistful smile, Zava reluctantly and very carefully dropped the reporter atop the scaffold.

******

Becca also scrutinized the giantess from within Zava’s fist. Zava’s hand felt soft and smelled really nice, but it also was terrifyingly strong, clearly capable of squeezing the life out of anyone without even trying. Each comparatively slender finger was more than half as wide as Becca’s torso and probably able to stop a full-sized car in its tracks and picking up a locomotive as if it was a toy.

Zava’s face was young and beautiful. She’s blushing again?  Her enormous eyes, full of intelligence looked serenely back at Becca’s, and she was put at ease by the giant being’s regard, not unlike someone looking at a cute kitten; Becca was the kitten. Looking into the vast brown eyes of the giant woman, guileless but sparkling with intelligence, and looking back at her was surreal.

The titaness’ complexion was flawless except for a little scar on her left cheekbone. Her face was tanned and smooth, with high cheekbones and full lips; fine, half-inch or so blond, almost iridescent, hairs were however visible on her face, even on the tip of her nose. Becca looked for any residual damage from the explosion and fire that had been unleashed on Zava just a few days ago, but there was absolutely no sign of any harm whatsoever. Not even her eyebrows look a bit singed…

Her hair was of course thick, completely straight with absolutely no hint of curliness and very shiny. On the way up to Zava’s face height, Becca tried not to stare at the enormous and conspicuous cleavage in front and below, rising and falling with the giantess breathing, the dark cleft between the impossible to ignore, enormous mammaries compelling the eyes to look. Becca found herself fascinated by the giantess’s lips when talking and it took her a second to register what was said and to answer. Then the moment ended, and she was let go. The interview continued.

****

A few hours later, Mark and Zava were lounging on their bed, watching the interview in their big projected screen directly from the Boston Globe YouTube Channel. Mark was lying on his favorite spot, between Zava’s breasts, idly stroking the underboob he was reclining against with his fingers, sending a delicious thrill all the way through her breast to her now almost painfully erect nipple…

Later... she thought, biting her lower lip. Zava watched herself answering the many questions put by the reporter. As always, she was amazed how big and strange she looked on camera from the earthlings’ perspective. Becca had said the camera people were a little over their heads at first trying not to make Zava look monstrous and looming and filming up Zava’s nose was not exactly flattering. They had mostly succeeded, but Zava was more than a little embarrassed at seeing inevitably, how big her feet and how thick her calves looked in the takes shot from ground level. Her breasts were also in the way except in the shooting done from the scaffold. The takes made from Becca’s perspective when she was in Zava’s fist were also unsettling as Zava’s features filled the whole screen. They had filmed also with a camera strapped to Zava’s forehead, but most of that footage had been discarded as, again, Zava’s boobs were a bit too much into the frame and too bouncy; the humans looked too puny and distant at her feet.

She had been asked many things about her world, other countries in Lur, how technologically advanced they were (not much, compared to Earth), etc. Many of these things had already been asked during her quarantine by the government. Becca, no doubt realizing this, steered the interview towards more personal affairs, like Zava’s people expected lifespan, which nobody had thought to ask about yet. Becca had been shocked to realize Zava would likely live almost three centuries more. This was one of the most painful realizations Zava had made early in her relationship with Mark, and she was almost inconsolable for quite a few days after Mark had told her that he was only likely to live for another 50 of his years, perhaps 35 in Lur’s reckoning of years.

Zava had been skillfully teased by the seasoned interviewer about more intimate details of her life with Mark, and she recounted the way she had met her now fiancé by actually capturing and kidnapping him, how she had rescued them from her sadistic friend Millan, and how they had been briefly reunited. Buz Zava, ashamed of her actions when she groped Mark dick against his will, glossed over that part, blushing noticeably, Zava realized with chagrin, watching herself squirm uncomfortably while trying not to stutter through that part.

Then Becca edged around the issue of her bodily intimacy with Mark, slyly suggesting Mark was well over his head. Here Zava laughed and assured Becca and her audience, with a twinkle in her eye, that she was more than satisfied and had been for the last few years, as Mark was very creative and athletic, she asserted, adding that Mark was ‘not afraid to plunge into a woman’s heart, and elsewhere as well’, eliciting a nervous laugh from the fiery reporter.

Afterwards the interview moved to other matters, such as how they had made it to Earth, which Zava again answered she had no idea, and the fact that all her friends and relatives back at Lur were likely thinking she had been kidnapped, or was lying dead on a creek or had been mauled and eaten by a forest animal. Here Zava teared up a little, and her voice broke as she acknowledged she did not know if she would speak with her parents and sister again. But, brightening, Zava said Mark had an idea for that and the US Military had promised to allow supervised trials to send messages to her family.

“How is being the only one of your race here on Earth” Had asked Becca. “Aren’t you lonely?” Zava answered that Mark and Zava had each other, but it was a bit daunting to be surrounded by such small, fragile beings all the time and that the most difficult thing in relating with earthlings was that most people were afraid of her at first. However, she said, “in the internet everybody is the same size”.

Nonetheless, Zava admitted, she was deathly afraid of hurting someone, as it was all too easy to inadvertently step on someone, kick someone with her toes when taking a step or sit on someone if she was not careful.

Finally, Becca asked about the aftermath of the attempt on Zava’s life and the implications of her coming entirely unhurt from such a violent, destructive event. Zava however assured Becca that she had felt the fire and the explosion and wasn’t looking forward to repeating the experience. She hoped, however, Zava said fiercely, that those responsible had gotten the message that she would not be denied her vengeance by anyone, if something happened to Mark.

The interview ended in a lighter tone when Becca had asked Zava about more mundane things as her favorite Earth foods, and things like that. Zava also said that if they wanted to know more about Mark and her they would have to wait for her book, which she hoped to have ready within the year. The last take was of a grinning Zava and a clearly lovestruck Mark standing on her cleavage as if in a balcony.

They had not mentioned in the interview that Zava had insisted on Mark making a few tests of her purported indestructibility, as Zava was worried that her grooming was going to be a problem if, for instance, her pubic hairs (and upper lip hair, which she wanted Mark to remove before the interview) were now unbreakable and unshavable; she also did not want to end up like a madwoman with her uncuttable hair growing all the way and beyond her feet (and what about her nails?). But Mark had shaved her lip and other parts with no more trouble than it ever had been. At Zava’s insistence, he had even drawn blood from her left pinkie’s fingertip with the razor. That left both of them puzzled and worried.

It was only by accident that they discovered that Zava seemed to only be susceptible by harm when it came from Mark. When taking a walk outside with Mark on her cleavage, as always, Mark head a terrible snapping sound and insisted on being let down to examine the ground at Zava’s feet. To his dismay and amazement, he discovered that Zava had stepped on a knee-high tuft of grass, underneath which there was what seemed to be a bent 20-inch long, three-inch thick bezeled steel flange. It had gone all the way through Zava’s sandal; the snapping sound was the concrete base of the flange shattering under the stress. At Mark’s prompting, she showed him her foot sole, which was completely unmarked.  Looking around the grass, Zava found another steel flange protruding from the ground, which Mark said seemed to be the foundations of an old electrical or radio tower, which had been carelessly cut in the past, leaving a part on the ground.

Despite Mark’s protests, Zava pressed her fingertip against the sturdy metal edge, bending it effortlessly and flattening it against the ground, without drawing blood or making a scrath in her finger. More experiments proved Zava’s skin and hair seemed to be impervious to burns, cuts and scratches… as long as anyone but Mark was doing the harm; not even Zava could do herself any harm. This had enormous implications, as it meant Zava was no longer able to cut her own hair, do her eyebrows, nose hairs, armpits, her fingernails or shave herself anywhere. All this would have to be done by Mark, likely for ever… or for as long as he lived… and then what?  She thought, with a twinge of hurt in her heart. Will I, could I withstand centuries in this world after his inevitable death?