A man named Peter had consistently come first in English classes at school, and was now a writer working on one of his books. One day, while walking in a forest, he discovered a trans-dimensional tube, and walked into it. It was like a space warp. When he stepped out of the other end, he was in a scenic world in another dimension. He sat down in a clearing of large lovely plants. He felt it was the best atmosphere to write, and came there every day for two weeks.

One day, he was sitting there writing, when he heard heavy footsteps and looked around.

"Hello," said a voice.

He looked up to see a gigantic woman looking down at him. She lifted him up and he saw that beyond the plants was the grass of a gigantic garden. 

"Are you a writer?" asked the woman.

"Yes. I come here to concentrate,” said Peter.

"This garden and its holiday house belong to a friend of mine called Isabel, who's quite an accomplished writer too. I'm visiting her today. She comes here to write on weekends, usually for one day at a time, and then goes home. I think she'd like to meet you,” said the giantess.

"Sure, I'll come,” said Peter.

The woman took him to her friend Isabel's house in her pocket.

When Isabel welcomed her in, she sat down on the couch and said, "I made a little friend on the way. He's a writer too."

"Really? You should have invited him to join us,” said Isabel.

"I did," said the woman, and took him out of her pocket.

"I'm pleased to meet you," said Isabel. She was in her 20s, and very beautiful.

"Thank you, Isabel. I came through a trans-dimensional tube which links my land and your garden."

"Well you're welcome to come over, whenever you like. We can write together. I may be able to help you, and vice versa,” said Isabel.

"That’s very kind of you," he said.

"Would you like to read us something you've written?" asked Isabel.

He read a poem.

"That's very good," said Isabel, "I tend to write a mixture of short stories and multi-chapter novellas."

"I'm about the same, except that I sometimes do poetry, when my ideas are only enough for short stories. It's not surprising really, since I'm so short, compared to you,” said Peter.

"I liked your poem, and I'm sure you can write just as well at any size,” said Isabel.

He farewelled her giantess friend, that carried him back to the trans-dimensional tube.

"Now that you know the way, you can walk over to my house, whenever you like. I'm usually here in the daytimes on weekdays,” said Isabel.

"Thank you. It will be nice to come here again,” said Peter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter would often visit the giantess Isabel, and she would place him on her desk, where he would write on his notepad, while she worked on her own stories. Sometimes they would read paragraphs or verses to each other and ask for feedback and suggestions. She kept her house well stocked, as she ate a hearty lunch in the middle of every day, and would feed him as well.

Today she was spooning some pavlova onto a plate for him, and some slipped off the spoon and fell on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, and picked him up.

She suddenly licked pavlova from his face! He had admired her beautiful sparkling tongue for weeks, and watched it eagerly when she was eating or reading. Now he loved the feel of it.

"That's got most of it, but you're still a little sticky," she said, and licked his face twice more, until it was clean. The third lick gave his clean cheeks direct contact with her tongue.

"I couldn't have been happier, if I'd been her boyfriend!" he thought.

She had no idea how thrilling it had been for him.

"How's that?" she asked.

"I feel perfectly clean, thank you. Your tongue was very gentle with me."

"Good,… except I've left all that moisture on you. I'll dry you off," she said, and rubbed him against the dress of her soft shoulder. It was lovely.

They ate their lunch, and went back to writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter had continued his visits to Isabel’s home away from home. She had provided him with so much giant food, that he had not needed to work long hours back on his own earth. So he had taken a part time job two days a week, and devoted the rest of his time to writing. 

One day Peter and Isabel were writing, and he was often looking up from his own work at her mouth, having enjoyed the licking experience and fondly remembered it from that day at lunch.

"Peter, do you mind if we take a break for a while? There's something I'd like to ask you about."

"Sure," he said, and put down his book.

She looked down at him, and seemed to be thinking how to express herself about something.

"I've been thinking a lot about the day I cleaned the pavlova from your face."

"I have too," he said, “I’ve never forgotten it.”

"Really? What made it remain in your mind?"

"Well I've never been licked by a giant lady's tongue before," he said, "I guess it was very unusual."

"Did you find it at all unpleasant?"

"No, not at all. A giant sized tongue is just as soft as any other."

"I enjoyed it a lot," she said, "and I enjoyed the third lick most of all, because all of the pavlova had been removed, and it was just your little face I was licking. What I'm really saying is that I think you're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

This was wonderful, he thought. She was probably going to ask him if she could lick him every time he visited her.

"Thank you. I think it's a nice compliment," he said.

"Well Peter, I liked the taste of you so much, that I'd like to ask for your permission to eat you."