I woke up Sunday morning, and the first thing I thought about was Jackie. Her endless legs. Her cascading, glossy blonde hair. Her nimble height. Her voice, her soothing, sexy voice. It was enough to make me leak a little bit thinking about it. Then my mind shot to her phone number on the piece of paper she gave me.
Shit, the phone number! Where is it?! Fuck, I’m never gonna see her again because I lost her damn number, I thought.
I tornadoed through my entire room searching for her number. I tore off my sheets, threw my mattress off the bed, and rummaged through every one of my drawers (even my roommate’s; hey, maybe I didn’t know my drawers yet). Thoughts of losing her pinged through my head nonstop, and I felt like I was going to throw up at any second. I was bordering on having a nervous breakdown.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing? It’s 8:30,” Greg asked, now awake.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just…go back to bed.”
“Tell me what the deal is. You’re obviously pissed off.”
“Do I have to tell you?”
“I guess not, as long as you’re quieter, I’m fine with whatever you do—”
“This girl I met yesterday gave me her number and I can’t find it anywhere! I’m losin’ it, man!” I blurted out.
“What do you mean? She wrote out her number for you on a piece of paper or something?”
“Yeah, I guess she’s a bit old-fashioned.”
“And you didn’t thin to put the number down in your phone as soon as she gave it to you? What the hell were you thinking?!”
“What the fuck was I thinking?” I asked myself aloud.
“Did you check your pants?” he asked.
“Check your damn pants! That’s where I always forget stuff. Many pairs of earbuds went to die in the washing machine at my house.”
“Ok, ok! I’ll check.”
The idea seemed ridiculous. I never left stuff in my pockets, I always—holy shit. There it was! In my back pocket all along, like Greg had suggested.
“You’re a genius, man,” I said, “I love you!”
“Don’t get mushy with me. I’m going back to sleep,” he said, cranky.
Greg saved my ass! What if I never found it? I would’ve never seen her again. After three days she would’ve forgotten me entirely, and then it would’ve been like we’d never met at all. All that tension, all the flirting, for nothing. Stop it, you idiot! You found the number, there’s no need to run alternate scenarios where you didn’t find it.
The bizarre celebration in my head was almost immediately overshadowed by a storm cloud of fear. Now that I’d found the number, it was real again. She and I. Me and her. It could be real. But now the pressure was on me to bring it into fruition. She didn’t have my number—so if I wanted this (whatever this was) to go forward—I would have to work up the balls to actually text her.
This time I put Jackie’s number into my phone, and I tapped ‘new message’. I put her contact into the subject bar and began typing.
ME: Jackie it was really nice meeting u yesterday and I—
No! That sounds stupid, D-E-L-E-T-E.
ME: What’s up?
Thought I’d text u to see if you wanted to hang out?
That’s a boring text! Be a little playful.
ME: Hey, it’s College Boy!
Hope you aren’t too busy dreamin’ to hang out sometime!
Perfect! It’s playful and flirtatious and callback humor always works like a charm!
I went to hit ‘send’, but hesitated. I was scared to fail. Jackie was such a beautiful girl, and a girl of her caliber showing even the slightest bit of interest was unreal. It felt like stage fright. If you don’t say your line right everyone’ll laugh at you. In my case, if I say the wrong things, she’ll be gone. I’d say it’s a much worse fate than having some people make fun of you for flubbing your lines on stage.
I also didn’t want to seem like a desperate little boy whose life depended on whether or not she wanted to hang out with me (even though that assessment was totally and completely true). I had to play it cool, act aloof. So, I left the message written but unsent for the time being. I told myself I would send it eventually.
Today was Georgetown’s Look Fair: a chance for everybody to wander aimlessly from table to table trying to find a club that spoke to them. If not for my mother’s nagging, I would’ve gotten the remainder of my school supplies at the book store and sat in my dorm room all weekend. Even hundreds of miles away she was able to force me to go; I knew I wasn’t going to be able to lie to her about it if I stayed home.
I hoped that Jackie and I wouldn’t cross paths at the Look Fair today. I wasn’t ready to meet her standing up. And she would probably be with all of her super-tall volleyball girlfriends, making me feel even more short and inadequate. In fact, I had a vivid daydream of myself shrinking in front of the entire volleyball team. They encircled me like a swarm of preying piranhas, pointing at me, laughing at my pathetic shortness.
I decided that I would text Jackie after the Look Fair, eliminating the chance of her suggesting we meet up there. Hopefully, we would strike up a text conversation after the Fair lasting a few days before I had the panache to set up a date.
I had to shower, something I was dreading. It was largely because it was a communal bathroom with eight showers. I hoped to God that there wasn’t anyone in there showering.
I opened my door with a towel around my waist and carrying my bathroom bag, only to walk out and immediately smash into something. Or more accurately—someone. I crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. This person was solid, no give. I looked up and saw a girl.
As I fidgeted on the ground trying to cover my privates and tighten my towel around my waist, she leaned down and said, “Are you ok?”
She had an even thicker southern drawl than Jackie. Embarrassed and unable to look at her, I said, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”
The contents of my bathroom bag were scattered across the hallway on account of the collision.
“Let me help you pick this stuff up,” she said.
“No, it’s ok. Thanks.”
“No, no, I insist.”
God damn southern hospitality. Why can’t she just leave me alone? I let you off the hook, but no, you have to help me anyway.
I was boiling with anger. My skin had to have been bright red.
And then my frustration evaporated. All it took was for her to bend over and present her tight little ass to me. As she was reaching down to get one of my belongings strewn across the room, I could swear she wiggled it a little. Was it the flesh just bouncing from the naturally vivacious way she carried herself? Or was it intentional? Was it a private show just for me? Maybe she was just a tease; maybe she did that to every guy she knocked over.
It was then that I realized that I was still on the floor staring at this girl’s butt, and I didn’t even know her name. I rose up slowly, gauging how stark the height difference between us was going to be. I made an estimate while she was continuing to pick up my stuff, and I was simultaneously filled with dread and excitement for what was coming next.
It was as if I was paralyzed, her curves ensnared me. She bent down for what must’ve been the fourth time, and I audibly said, “Wow.”
Thinking I had said it under my breath, I continued staring at her. At first, I didn’t notice that she was staring right back at me while I eye-fucked her. She abruptly jumped to her feet, my eyes still locked in the spot where her ass had been. Before I could get myself out of this extraordinary daze, she was standing right in front of me. With one finger, she lifted my chin so I could meet her gaze.
“I know I asked you before—but—are you ok?” she asked.
Words eluded me. So, I just shook my head yes.
“Good,” she smirked, holding back a laugh, “you had a vacant look in your eyes. Was just makin’ sure you were still there.”
She was taller than I expected she was: a head taller, at least. I was looking up at her chin. Well, at least she wasn’t as tall as my sister or my mother.
“Umm, I think I’m still here.” I let out a heavy exhale and sheepishly looked away from her. I tried to get around her to pick up the rest of my stuff, but she blocked my path. She poked my chest and ran her finger down between my pecs.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
I didn’t answer by saying ‘Desmond’. Rather, I asked ‘why’. Why did she want to know my name?
“Because,” she paused, visibly thinking about what she was going to say next. “We’re neighbors, silly!”
“Are we now?”
“Yes! I’m Maggie! The name on my birth certificate is ‘Gretel’, my mom was fond of the fairy tale.”
I was confused, “How’d you get ‘Maggie’ from ‘Gretel’?”
“So, here’s how it goes. You start at Gretel, which is an old short form of Margarette. And then from Margarette, you get to Maggie. A name that I’m not embarrassed about.”
“Even your name is a story.”
She frowned, and then I realized what she wanted.
“Oh, I’m Desmond.”
She quickly smiled again, and I had a thought. I never wanted to see her frown again.
“Can I go shower now?” I asked.
“Yes, Des. Ooh, that rhymed!”
I realized that I had no one to go with to the Look Fair since my roommate Greg was sleeping in. So, I asked if she was going and if she wanted to head over together.
“Absolutely! Don’t take too long in bathroom, I like to be early!”
She sure is chipper.
Apparently, the boiler wasn’t up to par, because there wasn’t a hot drop of water in those pipes. Hot water was integral to the start of a good day for me, so I despised whoever was responsible for the lack of it.
The one upside was that I took the quickest shower in history. It was shorter than a shower in basic training.
At 10:15 sharp, I knocked on Maggie’s door. I heard some rumblings inside the room, but there was no answer. I knocked again, this time, harder. She must’ve gotten the idea because she threw the door open soon thereafter.
“My roommate is sleepin’, and I’d rather her stay that way.”
“You don’t like her?”
“Did I make it that obvious?”
“No, no, just guessed,” I said sarcastically.
She huffed in aggravation, then stepped out of her room and closed the door gently. As we walked to Copley Lawn, I felt like a conversationalist. She was easy to talk to, and the sarcasm rolled off the tongue.
She did most of the talking, while I added in (hopefully) witty comments to push the conversation forward. She was in pre-med, studying to become a doctor. It was something I knew nothing about.
What I did know was that most people who wanted to be a doctor have an inherent desire to help others.
I, in turn, wanted things from others: companionship mostly. And I wanted female companionship above all else. That base desire made me put girls on a pedestal (I didn’t need to for most girls because most girls were taller than me, but I did it nonetheless). The ‘pedestal’ status I gave them made me totally afraid to mess up the slightest thing. I was no Casanova in high school, but I dated. I was never under the impression that my relationships would survive past high school, but I liked all of the girls I dated. And they all broke up with me. I never broke up with them, because it was my nature to try to make it work. Even if the relationship was brutally unhealthy and unsalvageable.
I was jittery because I was still a virgin and I was at college. I had the idea that I was supposed to have had sex before the end of high school. I probably got that idea from the movie Superbad.
I was behind, so I scolded myself for not fucking every pretty girl that walked past. Some part of me knew it was irrational, but I scolded myself regardless.
But I wasn’t scolding myself for not sleeping with Maggie, and I wasn’t completely sure why. She was an attractive, black-haired girl with the kindest heart on the planet. Also, her ass was to die for. Maybe it was because I knew her on some level, and I didn’t know the pretty girls walking by me. The demystifying process had already begun with Maggie.
“Copley Lawn, here we are!” she said.
“Time to get involved,” trying to sound as excited as her.
She took my hand and led me along, undoubtedly sensing my apprehension. Ostensibly, every club had a table on Copley Lawn: a small, neatly manicured plot of grass. I wasn’t sure what 200 tables looked like but judging by how many of them were smooshed together, it was entirely plausible. The crowd was a beehive: people buzzing about, going frantically from one thing to another, fearing they were going to miss out on something awesome.
The first table that piqued Maggie’s interest was the Ballroom Dance Team’s. She ran over with me, still clamping down on my hand. She talked to the ballroom dancers, and I started looking around for things I would actually be interested in.
“Hey, check this out,” she said. Maggie took my other hand and started trying to do the waltz with me. I tried to wrangle my hands from her grip, but I quickly found that I couldn’t. She was stronger than I thought. I was forced to waltz with a girl in front of hundreds of people. I could feel their eyes boring into me, and I could feel my face flushing red. While my internal freak-out was slowly bubbling to the surface, Maggie was holding back giggles. She was leading me, which was embarrassing in and of itself, because I didn’t know how to waltz. Apparently, she did.
Finally, she let go of me, laughing maniacally. She went back to the table, presumably to sign us up to do ballroom dancing. Oddly enough, I didn’t go stop her. I liked dancing with her, and maybe if I mastered dancing, I could woo a girl. I let it be, allowing the winds of fate carry me like a fallen leaf.
When she was done, she walked back over to me saying, “Practice is at four on Wednesdays, and you better be there. It’s gonna be real fun to teach you how to dance.”
“You didn’t mention you are a ballroom dancer,” I mused aloud.
“Uh, Desmond, we’ve known each other for like an hour. But yes, I am a decent dancer.”
“Decent? You were fabulous! You made me look like an idiot!”
“That’s just because ya have no idea what you’re doing. Ya will learn all there is to know about the wonders of ballroom dance.”
“I’m afraid I won’t really be able to twirl you around m’lady.”
“We’ll have to get you shoes with lifts, shortstuff.”
Fuck, now I got her calling me ‘shortstuff’.
“Then you gotta wear flats.”
“Oh, I always wear 2-inch heels dancing.”
“You are impossible,” I sighed.
I spotted a badminton club, something I actually could see myself not getting embarrassed doing, so we went over and checked it out. It wasn’t a huge commitment, so we signed up. In the back of my mind, I was hoping that Maggie sucked at badminton like I sucked at ballroom dancing.
“You any good at badminton?”
“I can find my way around a racket,” she said.
I looked at her, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ll see,” she said with her best evil grin. I actually trembled a bit. Hopefully, she didn’t notice.
Maggie took me to at least a dozen more tables. I was zoning out, thinking about what Monday would bring. It was the first day of classes, and I wasn’t ready. I wanted to go back to my dorm and relax, or maybe just go somewhere else with Maggie and get to know her. She was ambitious though. She wanted to hit every table that she was remotely interested in. And I knew I could’ve left if I really wanted to. I could’ve made up an excuse, but I had nowhere to be.
The sun was no longer illuminating the lawn. A curtain of clouds obscured the sky, and rain was inevitable.
“Maggie, we should go inside. It’s gonna rain in any second,” I said.
“One more table, ok?”
I nodded, hoping she would make it quick. As she talked endlessly with club representatives, I felt a drop on tip top of my back. It rolled gently down my back and along my spine.
“Come on, let’s go inside.”
“You can go inside if you want, I’m not ready yet.”
I didn’t want to get separated from her. She was the only person I considered a friend at that point.
“Ok, I’ll stay with you,” I said begrudgingly.
I began seeing people of various clubs quickly breaking down their tables and running for the nearest building. Did everyone understand that it was about to pour rain except Maggie?
“Do you have an umbrella?” I asked.
She turned to me and grabbed my cheeks.
“Can you relax?” she asked. “You’re not gonna die if you get a little wet!”
“Jeez, I know! I’d just rather not get wet.”
The dam in the sky burst in one go, dumping gallons of water on us both in a matter of seconds. She shut her eyes and looked upward and laughed uproariously.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Race you inside!” she said.
She burst into a sprint to the nearest building. I was caught off guard and started running after her. Unfortunately, I slipped, and I spiraled head-first onto the muddy field. The unexpected fall knocked the wind straight out of me. I croaked and gasped, yet the precious oxygen I so desired didn’t find a vacancy in my lungs.
All my previous concerns and worries vanished from my mind. Everything else seemed petty when compared to the fact that I was completely unable to breathe.
I managed to roll over onto my back, still gasping, still scared out of my mind.
I heard her! Maggie’s voice! I was never so glad in my life. Barely able to move, I waited seconds. I didn’t know how many more seconds my lungs would be able to bear being empty.
When Maggie got to me, she stood, confused.
“Des, are you ok?”
“What? I can’t hear you!” She kneeled down.
I pointed to my throat. “Can’t breathe,” I wheezed.
If I was able to speak in full sentences, or move for that matter, I would’ve stopped her from doing what she did next. She effortlessly hoisted me into a fireman’s carry. As she started running with me on her shoulders, I was beginning to regain my ability to breathe. And talk.
“Maggie!” I said as loudly as I could, “put me down!”
“We’re almost there!”
“Exactly my point! I cannot have a bunch,” I paused for a breath, “a bunch of people seeing you carry me inside.”
She silently kept running.
This bitch isn’t gonna put me down, I concluded. I wriggled in her arms, trying to break free. She noticed my futile struggles, and said, “I’m not putting you down!”
I tried to get momentum forward to push her down to the ground, but she was too strong. I couldn’t budge her. I tried to trip her with my leg, but they were dangling far too high to do anything of the sort. She must’ve been holding back laughs because my attempts to stop her pitiful. I was so insignificant, unable to put her in her place. All I had left was compromise.
“Put me down at the door! You hear me?”
“I said, ask nicely!”
“Maggie, would you please put me down in front of the door? Please?”
She said nothing.
“With a cherry on top?”
“Pretty please!? Please, Maggie!?”
“Ok! Ok! Ya know I was going to put you down at the door either way, right?”
“Then why did you make me go through all that?”
“Because I thought it was kind of funny to see you freak out like that.”
Suddenly, I was back on my feet. We had gotten to the door.
“You should try to care less about what other people think,” she said.
I scoffed. Was I supposed to be fine with a girl carrying me like a baby in front of all my college peers? Apparently.
As we got inside, I said, “Let’s just not talk about this, ok?”
"Mum’s the word, little guy. Just one question. Do you register on scales?”
“Shut up! I’m not that light!”
“I just carried you—I think I would know.”
“Hey! Listen, I bet I could carry you.”
“We’ll have to test that theory later.”
“That theory? What, you don’t think I can do it?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “that’s why I said we’ll test it.”
“You are unbelievable.”
There must’ve been two hundred people crammed inside the lobby of whatever building we had run into. None of them were as wet as we were. Some had actually anticipated the rain like I did and were bone dry.
A girl with wet blonde hair stood out among the rest. She was at least a head taller than everyone else around her; it was impossible not to notice her. Then she turned and exposed her face.
Jackie! Shit, I can’t let her see me.
I kept my head down, but I found myself sneaking quick glances at her. I couldn’t help it. And she had that look in her eye; she was searching for someone. Who was she searching for? A guy? Had she met someone amazing already? I was convinced that I was but a faint memory in her mind.
“Maggie, let’s go back to the dorm.”
“We just got out of the rain. You want to get even more wet?”
“I might as well have jumped in a pool. What’s the difference?”
“The rain should stop soon, what’s the rush?”
“Maggie, please! I’m asking you a favor! Do I have to explain every little thing to you?”
Before she could respond, a guy approached her. His intentions were obvious, and I could tell Maggie was totally uninterested. Unlike me, this guy had six inches on Maggie, and I assume she would struggle to put him in a fireman’s carry. He was a ‘man’ in the traditional sense of the word. It was harder for her to dismiss him. So, I did something stupid. I confronted the ‘man’.
“Hey buddy, she isn’t interested. Walk away.”
He shot a cursory glance my way, then looked at Maggie and said, “Is this your—”
“No!” she cut him off.
Jeez, is the idea of dating me that revolting to her?
He looked back at me, “I guess we don’t have anything to talk about then, pipsqueak.”
“Listen, I’m her friend. I don’t have to be dating her to defend her from assholes like you.”
On a dime, the guy was no longer a smartass flirt anymore. He was a guy ready to make my face one with his fist.
He pushed past Maggie who was standing in between us and moved frighteningly close to me. He was audibly snarling at me.
I was fairly certain that there was no chance for me to calm this guy down. It would’ve been fruitless for me to apologize and ask him nicely to leave Maggie and I alone. I decided to send him over the edge.
“Ooooh, I see you’ve got a temper. Think that’ll make her go for you, stud? I got news for ya, you’re compensating, and your tough guy act is a load of shit! Go on, tough guy! Hit me! Fuckin’ hit me! What’re you scared? Hit me! HIT ME!”
My furious outburst had the opposite effect. I fully expected him to start wailing on me. And I was prepared for it too. What was a couple of punches compared to not being able to breathe for what seemed like hours? Or being humiliated by a girl carrying me without so much as breaking a damn sweat. But I got him to back down. He walked away.
“Jeez, this guy has a death wish.” He stuck a finger in Maggie’s face and said, “Not worth it,” then started walking away. I tried to run after him to tackle him, but she blocked me with her arm.
“It’s over,” she said.
I scanned the room. It was silent and all eyes were on me. Some people were looking at me like I should’ve been wearing a strait jacket and my dorm should’ve been a padded cell. Others had faint smiles as if they had been rooting for the underdog. Others had their mouths agape, barely able to process what they just saw. They all had something in common though. They were curious: fascinated even. They were wondering where a tiny guy like me drew all that nasty energy from.
To avert all their prying eyes, I finally rasped, “What’re you looking at?”
Everyone’s eyes shot down, up, at the friend next to them, or at their phone. Basically, every direction that pointed away from me. This was the most control I had ever had over a crowd of people. Usually, I was invisible.
Jackie didn’t look away though. In fact, she started walking toward us. And boy, did I have good reason for not wanting to stand next to her so soon. She was taller than I thought. Much, much taller.
If I were to raise both my arms in the air, my fingers would reach just beyond her shoulders. Both of my legs could fit into one of her arms. And not only were her arms twice as thick as my legs, they were longer too. She was dressed in a Georgetown volleyball t-shirt that somewhat de-emphasized her chest. I emphasize ‘somewhat’ because the undersides of her tits were staring me straight in the face. And I was staring straight back. How could I not? They were bouncing and jiggling inches from my eyes.
“Hi, I’m Jackie,” she introduced herself to Maggie.
“Do I know ya?” she said. Understandably, Maggie was a bit on edge after what had just happened.
Taken aback by Maggie’s caustic tone, Jackie simply responded, “Uh, no. I just met Desmond yesterday, and I thought I’d come over and say hi.”
Maggie not so subtly punched me in the shoulder, as I was still in a boobie trance. She saved my ass again.
“Oh uh, hi Jackie. Didn’t see ya there.”
She had to put her chin all the way down to her sternum to even look at me. Even she looked surprised at how short I was. She knew I was short, but by the baffled expression she had, I could tell that it hadn’t yet registered in her mind.
“You didn’t see me there? Me? The tallest girl in this whole place?”
Her presence alone rendered me incapable of rational, reasoned thought. She cast a shadow on me (literally) that left my mind in the dark. She bankrupted my wits, and there was nothing I could do but rely on the autopilot portion of my brain formulate responses to her questions.
“You’re not…that tall,” I said.
“Really?” She booty bumped me, causing me to stagger back into Maggie’s arms.
“What is going on with you two?” Maggie asked.
I let Jackie field that question because I honestly did not know where I stood with her. Sure, she had given me her number. That was certainly a step, but we hadn’t gone out on a single date yet. We were two people whose relationship brewing and brewing fast. At least, that’s what I hoped.
Jackie’s answer to the question was quite encouraging, “We’re gonna go on a date and see how things work out.”
“Yes, we are,” I said in disbelief. I would soon be going on a date with a girl that could saw me in half with her legs.
“I understood what she said, smart guy,” Maggie said.
Jackie, from what I could tell, was a bit uneasy. In the same way I had protected Maggie from the shithead from before, she was now protecting me from Jackie. Even if she didn’t perceive it that way, that’s what she was doing.
“Are you two involved?”
“No!” Maggie said fervently. “We literally met just this morning. I think we’ve become fast friends though.”
“I’ll say,” Jackie began, “I saw you carrying him across Copley and I—”
“Shit, you saw that?” I interrupted.
She bent her knees slightly, saying, “I was one of the last ones to get inside, so yes, I did see. And it was cute. Nothin’ to be ashamed of…” she gently patted me on the shoulder.
Jackie’s one-of-a-kind beauty blinded me in many respects, however, my vision was still clear enough to recognize that she was patronizing me. She was poking fun at me, and it was well-deserved. That’s why I had implored Maggie to put me down. But I held my tongue and simply smiled. Rather than giving the topic new life by getting offended about it, I pretended it didn’t at all wound my male pride. If I couldn’t be strong, I could feign it.
“I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t be able to carry her. We’re both strong.”
“I’d like to see that,” Jackie said.
“That’s what I said!” Maggie concurred right away.
They were both doubting me. I didn’t know how to respond. First, Maggie was on my side, but now they were ganging up on me by subtly asserting that I was a total weakling (which I was). There was no getting out of this.
“When this rain stops, we can go to Volleyball House and have a test of strength. In fact, we have an entire weight room. What do ya say?”
“I’ll take ya up on that. You comin’ Desmond?”
I couldn’t believe what I had gotten myself into. There was no getting out of this. If I didn’t go, I’d be forever known as a pussy too afraid to lose to girls. If I did go, I would be courageous enough to lose in a strength contest to girls my own age. There was no workaround. I was either a going to be a pussy or a mildly courageous weakling. I decided on the latter.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” I said.
“Hey, you know what? We’re already soaked. Do you guys wanna make a run for my car? When we get to the house we can dry off.”
Maggie agreed. This ‘test of strength’ thing was happening whether I wanted it to happen or not. Really, I had no else to blame for this but myself. I brought this about by insisting that I was strong.
As we followed Jackie through the crowd, Maggie whispered in my ear, “Do you need me to carry you to the car?”
I didn’t even dignify her jab with a response.
Once we got to the door, Jackie told us to follow her Jeep Wrangler. Then, she counted us down.
“3, 2, 1, go!”
She flung the door open and leapt outside with the grace of a gazelle. Maggie followed, and I went after her. Less than an hour earlier, I was carried across this lawn. This time, I intended to make the journey to the car without tripping, falling, or being carried.
The rain had not let up, but the wind had kicked up significantly since we had gone inside. The rain drops were little razor blades nicking our skin.
“I can barely keep my eyes open!” Maggie shouted over the wind.
“We’re almost there!”
I hoped Jackie wasn’t just saying that to make us feel better, because I was running out of stamina. I was going to be exhausted before this strength contest even began.
When the Wrangler was in sight, I yelled as loud as I could, “Shotgun!”
Jackie reached the driver’s side door before I was even twenty feet to the car. The engine roared to life, and the headlights came blaring into my face. I was lagging ten to fifteen feet behind Maggie as she flung herself into the backseat.
The first contest was over. It was the speed contest, and I lost. When I finally jumped up into the front seat, I asked, “Do I get a participation trophy?”
The resulting giggles from Jackie made the whole ordeal worth it. I looked back at Maggie who winked and gave me a thumbs up.
The drive took all of ten minutes. The house was a two-story Georgian colonial in Arlington, Virginia. The brick was impeccably dark and new. There was even some ivy crawling up the sides. Amazingly, I could make all this out in the pouring rain, so I could only imagine how beautiful the house was in clear skies.
Once inside, Jackie handed us towels and new clothes.
“There’s two bathrooms upstairs, y’all can change up there. Lay your wet clothes on the radiators in the bathrooms. I’ll be waiting for ya downstairs.”
Maggie and I hustled up the stairs, wanting to get out of our wet clothes. I stripped, toweled off, and unfurled my new clothes. My face soured.
The clothes were Jackie’s. She gave me a shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a pair of socks. No underwear, (that would’ve been too good to be true) I hoped no one decided to pants me. That concern took root when I slipped the pants on, because they were less than an inch from my nipples. The bigger problem was that my whole body could easily fit into one pant leg. Probably with some room.
How does she expect me to wear these?
The even bigger problem was that I was getting an erection. But it wasn’t a normal one. It was a crippling, raging hard-on. I merely touched it and nearly blew my load.
I let my giantess pants pool down at my feet and tip toed over to the toilet. I wrangled my dick with two hands and stood over the toilet. I tried to bend it down, but it snapped right back to attention. The only way I would be able to cum in the toilet was if I was held upside down above it. Consumed by lust and unable to think straight, I started stroking my cock. It was bigger than normal, veinier too. I couldn’t fathom it. It was as if my very anatomy had changed just by touching her sweatpants.
I exploded all over myself in ten seconds. My entire body tensed up like a rock, causing me to fall back into the wall and slam my head on the towel ring. Never in my life was I so aroused, so instantaneously. Jackie had a stronger hold on me than I ever thought possible.
I wiped my chest and neck down with some toilet paper and made sure to double-check that I didn’t have any cum left on me.
I slipped on the pants again and waddled around the bathroom looking for something to hold up the pants. Before I could find anything useful, my dick swelled and elevated to full mast.
“What the fuck? How is this happening again?”
I relieved myself yet again, but my dick remained hard as a rock. The only solution my primitive, sex-crazed brain could think of was to tape my dick down with a roll of masking tape. I stared at myself down in the mirror.
What the fuck is happening to you? Get yourself together! You need to stop thinking about her every five seconds. Go downstairs and be a man.
“Des! You ok in there?”
It was Maggie. I dashed to the door.
“Maggie! Go downstairs and stall her, alright? Tell her I got a call!”
“What the hell’s going on in there?”
“I’ll tell you later, maybe. Just do it please! I will owe you big time!”
She obliged, which bought me some time, but I needed to figure out how I was going to simultaneously not jizz all over Jackie’s clothes and keep her pants from falling down.
I searched and searched and searched. There was nothing in the bathroom that I could tie around the pants to keep them up around my chest. And then I noticed something…
The pants seemed to be higher up on me. When I first tried to put them on, they almost covering my nipples. Now, my nipples were covered below the waistline. In fact, the pants were mere inches from my shoulders.
I did what I normally did when I freaked out. I paced the floor. Back and forth, to and fro. I was upstairs losing my grip on reality, and the girls were expecting me to come down as my normal, lighthearted self. I considered squeezing through the bathroom window and falling down into the hedges surrounding the sides of the house.
Just when I was about to cry, someone knocked on the door.
“Hey, Desmond, it’s Jackie. Are ya alright in there?”
I’m going to kill Maggie. She sent her up here.
“Jackie! I’m just fine,” I said as I wiped the wetness from my eyes and trying to sound as though I wasn’t moments from crying, “Someone called me.”
“Um, this might sound weird, but can I come in? Maggie said ya might be having trouble with the clothes. Are they too big?”
She knows me frighteningly well already…
“Uh, well—yes, actually. Do you, by any chance, have anything that’s smaller?”
“No, sweetheart. I’m a big girl, and I don’t want to go through the other girls’ stuff while they’re out. I’m new on the team and I’m still learning my way around. I wouldn’t want to offend anyone.”
I sulked, “I understand. I’ll figure something out.”
“Listen, I can help. Just let me in, and we’ll sort this whole thing out.”
I walked over to the door, and said, “Ok, fine. Just promise me you won’t laugh.”
I clicked the lock off on the doorknob, and there she stood—spectacular—she filled the entire doorway. Her dazzling curves were the only reason I could get a glimpse into the upstairs hallway. The way she looked down at me was almost too much to bear. Back home, nearly every girl was taller than me, but this? This was a whole new experience.
It was difficult to quantify how I felt in the presence of this dazzling woman. I was quivering, both in fear and arousal. Why was I scared? Why was I turned on? Those two questions had the same answer: her power.
What she decided to do with me was entirely her choice. She could snap me in two, or she could make me hers. And to a certain extent, I was already in her possession. Her tall, southern cowgirl beauty made me melt inside.
Looking up to see her bewitching smile made me forget that she was the same height as LeBron James. It was a petite girl smile: a cutesy, reserved smile. The kind you see in a classroom where two students are smitten with one another. At that moment, she might as well have been 5’2” because everything else went out of focus. That smile made me fall in love with her.
My heart sank when she covered her mouth with her hand. I was enthralled with her lip-sticked grin. She laughed through her nose, closing her eyes and turning away.
“Hey, you promised you wouldn’t laugh!”
“I’m sorry,” she said in between sniggers, “It’s just…you’re swimming in those!”
My hands were on my hips, and I sulked. “Am I? I really thought we were the same size, damn it.”
“Don’t get defensive, Des. I’m gonna fix this.”
“What’s your miracle solution to all of this?”
She took out what looked like a headband and handed it to me.
“Uh, what do you want me to do with this?”
She took it back from me and stretched it around her head, “It’s stretchy. Put it around your waist.”
“There’s no way that’ll work,” I said.
I knew it was going to work, and that was the alarming part. Her head was big enough that a headband of hers could easily serve as a makeshift belt for me.
“I guarantee that it’ll work just fine. Do you want me to do it for you?”
“No, no, I’ll do it.”
I held the pants with one hand and tried to slip the headband past my head and shoulders. It proved more difficult than I thought.
“You’re killing me,” she said, “Just let me do it.”
“I can do it! Jeez!”
She laughed again, “Don’t get defensive, Des. I’m just trying to help.”
“I got it, I got it!”
The pants, believe it or not, were quite heavy for me. I wasn’t used to pants being that big, and I lost my grip. I was exposed for at least a second before I was able to crouch and cover myself.
“This is why I told you to let me help ya,” she said.
“Did you see me?!”
She sighed, “No. No, I didn’t. Now let me help ya.”
“Fine!” I begrudgingly gave in.
I got the pants up around me again, and she slipped the headband around the waistline. It kept the pants in place, just like she said.
“What did I tell you?” she said, “You should listen to me more often. Give me the shirt.”
I didn’t protest.
“Arms up,” she said as if I were a baby.
The shirt floated majestically down and down to finally cover most of my body. The shirt wasn’t low cut for Jackie, but it definitely was for me. The pants were so high up on me that they were visible through the neck hole of Jackie’s shirt.
“How do I look?” I asked facetiously.
“I look ridiculous. This shirt goes to my knees.”
“Should I tuck in the shirt?”
“Definitely not! I would be nothing but pants!”
That mental picture threw us into a fit of hysterical laughter. Laughter was welcome; it distracted me from my dormant sexual hunger.
I then sat down and pulled the socks on. They were long socks, so Jackie had to help me roll up the pants while I pulled the socks up further and further. The heels of the socks stretched all the way up to my calves.
When I was finally fully dressed, I looked like a little boy who had raided his big sister’s closet. Not really the look I was aiming for, but it was better than stewing in soaking wet clothes.
My heart was in my throat as we approached the weight room. It wasn’t in my nature to exercise, so I was little nervous. I readied myself for the fact that I would be much weaker than I thought. My expectations were very low.
Stretching was my time to shine, because I was quite flexible. Sitting down, I could easily reach the soles of my feet. Both Jackie and Maggie were impressed. Their praise gave me the necessary boost to my self-esteem.
It would’ve been nice to stretch for longer, but the girls wanted to see me struggle to lift things. That was the show.
Jackie had me warm up by benching the 10-pound bar. She quickly loaded on more weight. However much it was, I was still able to lift it, so I wasn’t panicking yet. My next set was 50 pounds. It was getting tough, but I was still able to lift it.
After that set, Maggie asked Jackie what her max bench was. Nonchalantly she said, “250 pounds.”
My balls shriveled up and died at the sound of that. Was I even a man? I definitely couldn’t bench my body weight. And I was fairly sure that Jackie was not 250 pounds, which meant she could be benching far above her own weight.
And what was the point of working out? If I stuck to it, maybe I could get strong, but I would never match the strength of Jackie. Even if I worked out, the power imbalance between she and I would still exist. Acceptance was the only realistic option.
The next set was 80 pounds, and I was genuinely afraid I wouldn’t be able to lift it. Especially because Maggie had gone before me and did 10 reps. She struggled a bit, but she did it.
I laid on the bench, psyching myself up. Jackie was behind the bench to spot me. She winked at me. That wink could’ve meant so many things. Who knows if it was even serious; she could’ve been being completely sarcastic? As you can see, it’s in my nature to overanalyze things.
I took the bar in my hands, holding the bar as wide as I could (I heard it makes it easier to lift that way). I lifted the bar off, and it was heavier than I thought, but I was determined. I did one rep, and it took me a while to lift it back up from my chest. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be do It again. But I couldn’t just do one rep, that would be pathetic.
It was a mistake. The bar didn’t come up again. Jackie had to lift it off my chest. I sat up, blushing. I didn’t know what to say or if it was better to keep my mouth shut, but it didn’t take long for Maggie to break the silence.
“Ya know, I don’t usually openly talk about my weight, but I do feel comfortable saying that I’m heavier than 80 pounds. I just wanted to let you know that.”
I had to come up with a quick bullshit response.
“I’m pretty sure lifting a barbell and lifting a person are two different things.”
“So, ya still think you can lift me?”
I nodded hesitantly. I got up and walked over to Maggie who stood up for me. I got really close to her, but before I could wrap my arms around her, she said, “Ya look different.”
I backed up: “In what way?”
“I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it. Ya just…look different.”
“Ok, crazy. I’m gonna lift you.”
“Wait!” Jackie said, “I’m coming over to watch!”
I bent down, encircled my arms around her just underneath her butt, and lifted. I glanced down to check if her feet were in the air, but they didn’t budge. I tried again, this time with a grunt. Again, her feet were glued to the floor.
After two minutes of grunting and panting and heaving, nothing got accomplished, and I was thoroughly emasculated. And I couldn’t help but feel that I was weaker now. I was pretty sure that I used to be able to lift an average sized woman, even if it wasn’t for that long. But I couldn’t even lift her. Not even a little!
I reached my breaking point. I turned from Maggie and Jackie and walked out of the weight room. I sat down in the living room contemplating what had just happened.
My confusion outweighed my embarrassment. I couldn’t explain how I felt, just an unnerving sense of bewilderment. Maybe I was always weak, and I never realized how weak I was until I was forced into a strength contest with two girls. My problem was that I had nothing to compare this to. I didn’t normally go around lifting women.
I looked out the window, and it was still pouring. I was stuck in the volleyball dungeon.
Jackie came into the living room, I assume to talk me down. I got up off the couch to leave, but with an elegant stroke of the arm, pushed me back into my seat. She situated herself on the chair across from me and I knew enough not to get up again.
“I don’t want to talk, Jackie.”
“Listen, I told Maggie to leave ya alone for a little while and let me talk to ya. What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know. I feel weird. I’m embarrassed, but I’m more confused than anything else. I feel weak. Weaker than normal. Have you ever felt that before? Like have you thought you were stronger at some other point in your life, but then all of a sudden, you have spindly little arms and can’t lift a thing? Because that’s how I feel now. I could’ve sworn I was stronger a couple of days ago. I mean, of course, I’ve never been an especially strong guy, but I’ve never felt feeble or fragile. Do I sound crazy?”
“No,” said Jackie, “And I think I have a theory as to why you’re feeling this way.”
“Giantess?” I interrupted.
She paused, “Hmmm, I like that. A giantess. Yes, that’s what I am. Have you ever met a giantess, Desmond?”
“No. Not like you.”
“Don’t you think that maybe I’m having an effect on you? Maybe you’re scared of me and it’s making you unsure of yourself.”
“I mean, I guess it’s possible. But it kind of feels like I’m smaller, thinner. Could it really just be you?”
“It’s me, sweetheart. I’ve had this effect on many other guys. Guys think they’re super strong, and then they meet me. I lift more than them, or I beat them in an arm-wrestling match, or I accidentally lift them when I give them a hug. I’ve made many guys feel like total weaklings. You are not the first.”
I wanted to believe her, but I felt like there was something else at play.
“I don’t know, Jackie. I’ve always been a weakling. My kid sister throws me around like one of her toys. I’ve never been under the illusion that I’m a strong guy.”
She stood up, and once again, her momentous figure loomed over me. She plopped her bubble butt next to me on the couch. The impact of her ass and her weight made me tumble down the couch into her waiting arms. She shifted me onto her lap and pulled me close. I could smell her now. I can’t describe it but…she smelled exactly how I’d imagined she’d smell. She had a scent of nobility, of power. And the way her flesh molded to mine as I sat on her lap, oh! it drove me crazy. The masking tape was now struggling to hold down my dick. I could feel the adhesive gradually unsticking from me.
She purred in my left ear, “I like you, Desmond. I trust you. That’s something I can’t say of most guys.”
Her breath and her words were going in my ear and travelling through the core of my body straight to my cock, which was now throbbing underneath her sweatpants.
She moved over to my right ear, “I want to have our first date now.”
My lips weren’t moving. My vocal cords weren’t vibrating. My throat was bone dry. I was nothing but a broken toy.
“What do you say?” she asked.
I managed to say in a strained tone, “Class starts…tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’re right,” she said in a breathy whisper, “I’ll let you set the date and the time.”
“What do you...want to do?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” she kissed my neck, “All I want...is you.”
“Unnnghhhgh!” She knew how to levee her power over me and force me into a corner. I was certain that the entire inner fabric of her pants was now lined with my seed.
Jackie retreated back into the couch, and said, “You can keep my sweatpants, naughty boy. It’ll be a souvenir.”
I wanted to say something sexy back to her, but I couldn’t get over the fact that she actually wanted me. Me! A tiny, weak little boy. I had to make sure that this was real.
“Are we really doing this? I mean, you just met me, and we don’t even know each other yet. And you don’t care about the height difference? All the girls I ever went out with were taller than me, and that was always a big problem. But none of my girlfriends were ever as tall as you. Not even close.
“Just think about it,” I continued, “Can you imagine us walking on campus as a couple? We would look ridiculous! I wouldn’t even be able to kiss you standing up, you would have to lift me.”
She smiled thinking about doing that. I took her hand, and asked her, “Jackie, how do we do this?”
“The only question I need you to answer,” she said, “is whether or not you want to do this. Because that’s the only question that matters.”
Of course, I wanted to. My psyche was fully infected with a sick infatuation for Jackie. The idea of not acting on it was suicidal. This romance was completely out of my hands now. The last decision I was going to make, was going to made right now. I either succumbed to the most intense, wounding love I had ever felt, or I walked away from it. And her tone was clear; it was now or never.
I hated her for putting me in that position. We hadn’t even gone on our first date yet, and she was already imposing ultimatums. Granted, the way she posed the ultimatum made me even more frenzied with lust for her. Basically, anything she did or said made me collapse deeper into a lewd hole I dug for myself.
Her authoritativeness reminded me of every strong woman I had ever known. My mom and sister came to mind. Even though I hated my sister, she got her commanding nature from Mom. I admired that in a woman.
I saw that same spirit in Jackie. It scared me, but my love for her won out.
“I want to do this.” I decided.
“Ok,” she said. “I’m glad.”
I looked out the living room window to see the rain had stopped.
“Well, I don’t want to spend too much time together before our first date. I should take you and Maggie back to campus.”
It took all my willpower to suck it up and agree with her. I wanted to spend every waking moment with her, but I knew she was right.
She must’ve seen the sad expression I had on my face. She pulled me in for a hug and said, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, sweetie.”
She mushed my face in between her magnificent boobs, and she could’ve held me there for an eternity.
“You smell...so good,” I gasped through her tit vice.
She pulled me out abruptly, “Thank you. Are you done?”
With her nod, I dove back into her breasts. Over and over again, I inhaled deeply, hoping her intoxicating smell would linger in my nostrils until the next time I saw her.
Once again, she lifted me out of my incomprehensible daze.
“It’s time, Des. It’s a school night.”
“Don’t go sounding like my mother,” I teased her.
“Ya need to go home early and get a good night’s sleep. What time’s your first class?”
“Exactly. I’m gonna get you back on campus so you can prepare and have the best possible day tomorrow.”
I was a bit thrown by the nurturing side of Jackie. I hadn’t seen it present itself earlier, but boy, she had a mothering complex.
“Ok, mom. Are you gonna pack me a lunch too?”
“Stop it! Is that really how I sound?” She asked incredulously.
I gave a short laugh, “A little bit, Jackie.”
“Ok,” she cracked up, “I’ll try to work on it, I guess.”
Maggie barged into the living room, apparently done working out.
“Hey guys—uhhhmm—am I interrupting something,” as she saw me on Jackie’s lap.
I piped up, but Jackie interrupted me and said, “No. Not at all. I think I’m gonna take you guys back to campus now.”
Clearly, she was confused. It all seemed quite sudden. “Ok... I guess I’ll wait for you guys at the door.”
As Maggie jogged into the foyer, Jackie started to stand up with me still on her lap. She wrapped her arms around me, and I stayed attached to her, at the hip. My feet dangled a foot or so above the ground, and my head was just above her breasts.
She just held me there for a couple of seconds: hugging me, nuzzling my neck with her head. My mouth was hanging open in utter ecstasy.
When she let my feet return to the ground, she swiveled me around to face her. She looked down intently at me. It was like she was looking for something specific about me.
And it was then that I noticed that Jackie was taller than before. It was slight, but the difference was there. Back at school, I was eye-level with the undersides of her breasts. Now I was staring straight into the middle of her torso. I looked down at her feet and found that she was barefoot. I couldn’t explain what was before my eyes. In the span of a single afternoon, Jackie grew taller. Taller than she already was! Perhaps I was descending into lunacy, and if I was, she was the one causing it.
Either way, this was going to be a week consumed with thoughts exclusively about Jackie. She had me. I was hers.