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High Camp

 

by Rapscallion

 

I've heard quite a few theories about Camp Ketonga.  Some explained its unique properties came from the Indian mystics who once protected this land.  Some insist the lake was contaminated by chemicals that seeped into it from the film processing plant a half-mile away.  I've heard it said that the military long ago performed experiments to make super-soldiers there, or even that the military was experimenting on aliens.  Personally, I think these theories are nonsense.  But then, I have no better explanation.  I will say, whatever it really is, Camp Ketonga is not an urban legend.  It is 100% real.

 

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  The story -- or my part of it -- began four years ago, as I was trying to find a summer job.  Like all sixteen year old girls, I was impossible, and my parents didn't know what to do with me.  I had recently lost my virginity, and having had sex exactly twice, I was convinced that I was worldly enough for pretty much anything.

 

The only job I could find, though, was as a camp counselor at a sleep-away camp four hours away.  My parents thought the separation would be good for me, and I thought that being away for the whole summer with male counselors around might be fun.  I was sure to pack the six condoms I had left because I had high hopes for the summer.

 

When I got to Camp Ketonga, I was welcomed by two male counselors.  They were probably both nineteen, and they were the two tallest guys I'd ever seen!  I was only 5'3", so I was used to looking up at guys, but not this far up.  Both of them had to be close to seven feet tall!  What's more, they were hunky and gorgeous.  Their names were Jason and David, and they completely dwarfed my father as he handed them my bags from the trunk.  Immediately, I knew I'd made the right choice for my summer.

 

After Jason put my bags in my bunk, I went to the baseball field to meet the other counselors.  I could hardly believe it when I got there -- almost all of these guys were huge!  I could see only four who were shorter than six feet (my father's claimed height, though I think he was a bit shorter), and most were at least six inches taller than that!  One was even taller than Jason and David!  Most of the girl counselors were at least 5'8", but several were over six feet, too.  I felt tiny!  There was one other girl about my height (her name, I soon learned, was Caroline), and we exchanged a look of relief to find each other.  But I was happy to see that, though she was short like me, I had much bigger boobs and a much hotter body.  I needed any advantage I could find to score some of these huge guys.

 

During the first week, before the kids showed up, it quickly became obvious that I had nothing to worry about.  I used my first condom on Bret, who told me he was 6'8"!  (Seeing him next to Jason and David the next day made me revise their height estimates up a few inches.)  My second I used on Eric, my third on Justin, whose dick was so huge I was worried I wouldn't be able to get it into the condom or me!  (I managed the condom with some difficulty, but getting him inside me was pure pleasure.)  After that, it was Will, Asher, and Eric again, and inside of a week, my condom supply was gone!  I'm sure I seem like a slut, but this camp was just a smorgasbord of huge, amazing guys, and this little girl couldn't help herself.  Lying next to guys so big filled me with awe.  And it's not like all the other girls didn't seem to be partaking, too.  There was just something in the air.

 

I mentioned my condom predicament to Cynthia, a fellow counselor I had befriended while cleaning up the picnic area.  (She was 5'10" with an incredible body, and could certainly have been a supermodel.)  "Nobody's shown you the supply cabinet?" she asked.

 

She took me to a room behind the kitchen.  There were many shelves of counselor T-shirts and shorts, so many I figured they must have gotten a great bulk deal.  In the closet, toward the back, was a metal cabinet.  She opened it, revealing a selection of condoms that rivaled what you'd find in your local drug store.  Boxes upon boxes of condoms, all there for the taking.  I grabbed a handful, but Cynthia stopped me.  "Better take a few of these, too," she said, handing me a few of the oversized Magnum condoms and the even larger Magnum XLs.

 

"Really?" I asked.  "Because the regular fit onto Justin, and he was huge!"

 

"Justin's is impressive," Cynthia confirmed.  "But you're going to need bigger.  Trust me."  My mind reeled!

 

The arrival of the campers the next day didn't slow the sexual shenanigans one bit.  The pheromones were thick during the day, and at night, after the kids' curfew, the counselors would pair off anywhere we could find.  It was seven days before I found a guy -- Zac -- who was even bigger than Justin, but boy was the wait worth it.  Zac was huge all over, toned and taller than Bret, and I could hardly believe that I was having sex with such an amazing male specimen.  Where did all these incredible guys come from?

 

It was the next day that I noticed my shirt was getting a bit short.  I'd actually thought about it fleetingly a week earlier, but I figured it had shrunk in the camp wash.  Now, though, it was revealing a solid inch of my tummy.  When I saw Cynthia, she said that I'd better get a new shirt from the supply room.  While I was there, I noticed that my shorts were feeling tight, too.  I didn't feel like I'd gained weight, but I certainly seemed to be bloated.

 

A week of sex later -- including a mind-blowing second helping of Zac -- and again I could see that my new shirt was creeping up.  I complained about it to Cynthia, and she gave me a bemused look.  "You're growing," she told me.  "We all are."

 

"I've been this height since I was twelve," I scoffed.

 

"How tall?" Cynthia asked.

 

"Five-three," I told her.

 

Cynthia walked me back to the supply room, where there was a doctor's scale with a height measure.  "Stand on it," she commanded.  She lowered the metal arm onto my head.  "Hmm!  Five-five!"

 

"What?!" I shot back, turning back to look at the scale.  "That's not true."

 

"I thought you knew," Cynthia explained.  "About half of the new counselors seem to.  Camp Ketonga is a very special place.  It makes you grow."

 

I laughed.  She couldn't be serious.  "I am serious," Cynthia assured me.  "How do you think we all got so tall?"  She went on to explain what seemed to be a fairy tale.  All the counselors grow each summer, sometimes just a couple of inches, sometimes five or six.  For some reason -- they're guessing it has to do with hormonal shifts during puberty -- it doesn't affect the campers or anybody approaching twenty-ish.  Some counselors come back every year so they can to get bigger and bigger, while others drop out after a summer or two, happy with their new heights.  "Most girls leave once they're approaching six feet," Cynthia noted.  "Sometimes I think I was crazy to come back.  I don't think I'd want to be much over six feet, but it would be so cool to be an even six.  It just feels better than being average."

 

The story was outlandish.  It defied belief.  But how else could I explain the sheer size of teenager on display?  And it was clear that I had actually grown.  It was exciting!

 

"So I've grown two inches in three weeks?" I asked.

 

"That's a lot, even for here," Cynthia told me.  "I grew four inches my first summer, and three last year.  But I'm guessing you'll grow five or six at this rate."  Was it possible? I wondered.  Could I really leave Camp Ketonga five-foot-eight?  That would be so incredibly awesome, I could hardly stand it.

 

Suddenly, I didn't find the tightness or shortness of my clothes annoying... I found it incredibly sexy!  I could feel the fabric of my shirt stretch against my breasts and I didn't know how I was going to wait until curfew to ravish one of the huge, growing boys.  I measured five-foot-eight and marked it off against the doorframe of my cabin.   Imagine me, that tall!  That night, I skipped off into a clearing with Bret and had my way with him outside under a full moon.  It was the most intense sexual experience either of us had ever had.

 

I'll skip ahead here.  In only three weeks, I'd already hit the high end of Cynthia's estimate.  It was five-nine -- six inches taller than when I'd arrived!  Half a foot!  And there were still three weeks left in the summer!  Now standing taller than the mark on the door, I set my sights on Jason, who had so memorably dwarfed my father when I first arrived.  He was even taller now -- almost seven-foot-five!  He had outgrown his friend David this summer by two inches (David grew one, Jason grew three), and was just shy of Mitch for the title of tallest counselor.  "I don't think Mitch has grown at all this summer," Jason said.  "There's a chance I can overtake him."

 

Jason's dick was as massive as he was -- I needed the Magnum XL -- and I think if I was still just five-three, I could not have gotten it inside me.  But this was a new me -- a better, bigger me -- and the sex was off-the-charts amazing.  Afterwards, as we lay together and I played with his soft but truly massive ****, I asked Jason whether he thought the sex had anything to do with the growth.  "I mean, it feels so fantastic, it almost seems like it's giving me the power to grow."

 

"No idea," Jason replied.  "I guess the only way to test that would be to go without sex for a while and see if you stop growing."

 

"No ****ing way," I replied with a smile.  And just to prove it, I coaxed another giant erection out of his exhausted ****, stretched another Magnum XL over it, and sat on top of it until we both exploded in ecstasy.

 

Three weeks later, the kids shipped out and it was time for the ceremonial end-of-summer measuring.  Jason ended up being the tallest by 3/4 of an inch over Mitch, who indeed had not grown at all.  Mitch seemed bummed, though at just under seven-foot-six, he was still one of the tallest men on the planet.  The shortest counselor was Caroline, who had nonetheless grown nearly four inches and seemed happy to leave at just under five-seven.  Cynthia had grown past her target and now stood six-two.  "It's more than I'd wanted," she said with a smile, "but I'll make it work."

 

But some of the biggest cheers went up for none other than me!  I was measured at five-eleven, a full eight inches taller than when I'd arrived.  That was a new record gain, by an inch-and-a-half!  "We've never had anybody grow that much in one summer," David told me.  That night, I seduced all seven-foot-four of him.  I knew it was going to be some time before I found another seven-foot lover, and I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass.

 

My father completely freaked out when he saw me.  Hard to blame him -- two months ago, I was his little girl.  Now I was as tall as he was!  My whole world looked different from my new size.  Naturally, none of my clothes fit, but finding clothes in my size at the mall was not as easy as it used to be.  The whole world was smaller than I was used to -- guys I would have drooled about in May I now felt like I would drool on top of because they were too short for me.  Ketonga was amazing, and it made the rest of the world seem small.

 

But I loved my new size.  It didn't bother me being taller than most people I met, because I was way taller than the average girl and also taller than the average guy.  I was heavily encouraged to join the school's volleyball team, where I was teammates with the only girl in the school taller than me, Sharon, who had grown to six-two without any help from a mystical camp.

 

Certainly, I couldn't complain about my sex life, where I had a healthy variety of guys (including, for the first time, a few guys who were shorter than me) before I started steadily dating Brandon, who was six-one and gorgeous and had a sexual appetite that rivaled mine.

 

But I missed guys so huge they had to bend way down to get through door frames.  And I hadn't had to open the box of Magnums I'd taken from Ketonga.  And maybe these were shallow things to miss, but I missed them nonetheless.

 

And so, in April, just before the deadline, I impulsively did something I hadn't planned on doing.  I signed up for another summer at Camp Ketonga.

 

When my father dropped me off, I was wondering who would be back.  I was greeted by Bret, which excited me but didn't surprise me -- he'd left last summer just over six-eleven, and I knew he wanted to be a seven-footer.  Jason and David had not returned -- I think they were pretty much done growing -- but Zac was back, and at seven-three was now the tallest guy there.  Of my conquests of last summer, Eric and Justin were bringing up the rear at "only" six-nine, which amazingly made them only the sixth and seventh tallest!  I'd kept in touch with Cynthia, so I knew she had opted out ("Six-two is wonderful and quite enough," she told me), but Caroline was back, and no longer the shortest given some of the new counselors.

 

"I was hoping you'd be back," Bret told me.  "I couldn't stop thinking about how cute you were when you showed up last summer."

 

I pouted.  "I'm not cute anymore?"

 

"Nope," Bret replied.  "Little is cute.  Now you're gorgeous."

 

And so my second summer began, like my first, with awesome sex with Bret.  Well, it wasn't exactly like last time.  Now Bret's manhood required a Magnum.

 

I was having so much fun, and growing so fast, that I never even realized when I hit six feet tall and was more than six-one by the time I actually measured myself.  I joked with Jay, a nice and somewhat tubby six-five guy, that I was going to catch up with him this summer, and he stood up a little straighter every time he passed me from then on.  I was the reigning growing champion, so anything seemed possible.

 

Bret passed seven feet early on, but Zac seemed to be outpacing him and getting a comfortable lead, and I think it bothered Bret when he saw me seducing Zac.  He knew it would happen -- nobody at Ketonga was monogamous very long -- but I think he had a thing for me.  Nonetheless, Bret seemed to be enjoying himself fairly often with Allison, who at six-six was by far the tallest girl there, and Caroline, who had suddenly shot up to five-nine.

 

I also noticed that after only a few weeks, Eric was suddenly eye-to-eye with Bret, leaving Justin several inches behind.  That kind of growth made me hot, and that night I tore off Eric's clothes and ****ed him like there was no tomorrow.

 

Less than halfway through the summer, my joke with Jay was becoming more and more a reality.  He added an inch to six-six, but I had grown five and was six-four and gaining fast.  It was easy to lose perspective at Camp Ketonga, where six-four often felt short, but sometimes I thought about how my dad was going to freak when he saw me towering over him.  Right now, I cared more about Zac, who was nearly seven-foot-eight -- a Ketonga record, and the summer wasn't even over yet!  "You'd better watch out," I told him, as we lay naked together, on two mattresses thrown together on the floor to accommodate his unbelievably long body.  "You're going to be bumping your head on the ceiling."

 

"Another two inches and I'd better get out of this place," Zac replied, concerned.

 

"Quitter," I said, teasing him, though slightly disappointed.  I guess the thought of a guy too tall to stand up indoors was exciting to me.

 

With three weeks to go, Zac did indeed hit seven-foot-ten, and opted to leave before he grew even huger.  I was sad to see him go, but consoled myself in the arms of Eric, who was a very healthy seven-three.  At a little over six-seven myself, I was starting to bonk my head on doorframes, so I could see how scraping your head on the ceiling would not be what you'd want.  I was now slightly taller than Jay, and neck-and-neck with Allison for the tallest girl.  Allison was very pretty but skinny and flat, while my boobs seemed to be getting bigger even relative to my height.  I had matched last year's eight-inch growth record, and was still growing!

 

As a consolation to Jay for outgrowing him, I gave him what I called "the booby prize" -- I let him feel my big boobies.  For a heavy guy, Jay was surprisingly limber, and maybe because he felt like he had something to prove, he was one of the most attentive lovers I'd had there.  Sex with Jay was great, and I shouldn't have underestimated him.

 

Zac's absence from the year-end measuring ceremony meant that the competition for the grand prize was between Bret and Eric.  Bret seemed very unhappy when Eric beat him out by an inch, at seven-four.  But Eric couldn't be too ****y about it, considering Zac was an amazing six inches taller when he left.  Justin was a distant third at an even seven feet.

 

I was again the winner the biggest gain, shattering last year's eight inch record by a full two inches!  I was now six-foot-nine, ten inches taller than when I'd arrived, and two inches taller than Allison, making me the girls grand prize winner.

 

When we posed for group photos, I was now in the back row, being the seventh tallest person there.  I was aware of my big boobs pressing against whoever was standing in front of me.  It struck me not because of how big they'd become, but because of how unselfconscious I was that they were brushing against people that way.  At my size, I felt completely free to do whatever felt good.

 

That night, Bret made me feel incredibly good.  He was desperate for me, so even though it seemed like the girls grand prize winner should bed the boys grand prize winner, I chose Bret.  It was a great choice.  Bret was a magnificent lover, bringing me to orgasm twice with his tongue before his huge dick even entered me.  And it was huge, amazingly huge, somehow much bigger than it had been.  And it had incredible staying power, bringing me to ecstasy repeatedly before he finally exploded inside me, throbbing for what seemed like minutes on end.  I had had a lot of sex in my young life, but at that moment, I felt like it was my first time.

 

My dad completely freaked out when he saw me, but it freaked me out, too.  I knew I was big, but I guess living for two months among giants, I hadn't realized just how huge I was!  Even pushing his seat back all the way, I could barely squeeze into his car.  I was amazed at how small his hands were on the steering wheel, at how cramped our house suddenly felt, at how puny Dr. Minkman looked as I stood next to him, my bra at his face level, each of my boobs seeming as big as his head.  He could not explain my growth, and I was not forthcoming.

 

At school, I towered over the next tallest kid (Jim Dolman, a measly six-five) and could barely contort my long legs to fit into the one-piece chair desks.  Nothing was big enough for me -- no desk, no doorway, no bathroom stall, and certainly no guy.  I was introduced to Derek, a basketball player from Oak Bluffs, our rival school.  Everybody said he was my size, but he was only six-foot-seven.  (Amazing what I now considered "only.")  Still, he was as big as I could find, and while sex with Derek was hardly the earth-shattering experience it had been with Bret, it was good, and it passed the time.

 

In the spring, lying in bed with Derek's (average) dick in my hand, I got an idea.  Why not take him to Ketonga and maybe grow him a bit?  Spring break was two weeks long -- that was enough time for something.

 

I told my parents I'd need the car for spring break.  I don't think they were very happy about it, but that's a perk of being humongous -- you get to make the rules.  When we got near Ketonga, we saw that that part of the woods was gated off and locked from the inside.  But being six-nine, I was able to lift my leg high enough to easily climb the fence and open the gate.

 

The place was deserted, which made it sort of romantic.  But it made me realize that Derek was not for me.  He was nice enough, and almost tall enough.  But the fact that I so desperately wanted him to grow, like that would somehow make him the right guy for me, was proof that I was forcing it.

 

Derek did grow.  He grew an inch.  He talked about it a lot -- after three years, he had suddenly shot up to six-eight!  "Now I'm almost as tall as you, honey!" he would tell me.  I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd grown, too.  An inch and a half.  I was now six-ten and a half.

 

And I think it was Derek who made me realize I needed to be among real giants again.  It was crazy.  I knew it was crazy.  But I decided to spend one more summer at Camp Ketonga.

 

My father objected.  I think he'd put together that somehow Ketonga had turned his daughter into the giantess who towered over him now.  I tried to hide the smirk that said "Do you really think you can stop me, you puny little man?"  I felt bad for him.  I really did.  Having clothes made for a girl nearly seven feet tall was putting a real financial strain on him.  I didn't have the heart to tell him those huge clothes would soon be uselessly small.

 

While I'd left Ketonga last summer as the seventh tallest, I returned the fourth tallest -- only Eric, Bret, and Justin stood taller than me.  My off-season inch-and-a-half raised a few eyebrows, but I said nothing.

 

I couldn't even wait until night came to reach into Bret's pants and wrap my fingers around his fat ****, which swelled in my hand.  My boobs felt huge as I pushed them against his chest.  "You know," I said, "the first time we ****ed, I couldn't believe how gigantic you were.  And you were shorter than I am now."

 

"And I was a foot-and-a-half taller than you then," he replied.  "Now, I'm barely four inches taller."

 

"You'd better have a lot of growing still left in you if you think you stand a chance," I teased him, though we both thought it might be true.  Clearly, Ketonga had a stronger reaction on me than anybody who'd ever been there before.  Who knew how tall I'd get this summer?

 

While Bret had "only" grown seven inches since I'd known him, it seemed like his **** had grown nearly that much.  (Just as my tits had swelled four cup sizes, and the fullness of them as they pressed against my lacey bra turned me on.)  The sheer weight of his dick in my hands amazed me, and I wondered if Ketonga actually brought on some kind of super-puberty.  As I stretched the Magnum XL over the contours of his huge, hard meat, I wondered if it could actually contain his oversized manhood.  Why should they make them this big?  How many dicks could possibly be so huge?

 

As Bret slid his astonishing length deeper and deeper inside me, I completely forgot about little, inadequate Derek.  Was it possible, I wondered, to be monogamous at Ketonga?  I felt like it might just be.  Bret toyed with me, bringing me to the brink of a humongous orgasm over and over until he finally triggered the most incredibly intense climax I'd ever felt.  He came at the same time, but he stayed inside me for several minutes afterward, slowly throbbing within me.  When he pulled out, the end of the condom looked like a water balloon, he had pumped so much of his jiz into it.  Yes, I realized.  I could be monogamous at Ketonga.

 

I was very excited when I measured Bret a couple of weeks into the summer, because he'd grown two inches.  (I'd grown a half-inch, which was way below my average.  I figured maybe Ketonga's effect on me was dissipating.)  Despite purposely growing myself to six-eleven, I realized I could still be an old-fashioned girl who liked her man to be taller than her.  Eric had grown an inch, so he and Bret were tied, but I was rooting for my boyfriend to be biggest.

 

It wasn't even two weeks later that I saw Bret and Eric together in the office and couldn't believe my eyes -- Bret now seemed to be a good two inches taller than Eric!  Man, my boyfriend was on a roll!  How had I not realized how much he'd grown?  I asked them to stand back-to-back, to confirm.  And that's when I realized why I hadn't noticed.  I was now only about an inch shorter than Eric!  Bret and I were both growing so much, neither of us had realized it!  Bret was now seven-foot-seven, and I was only three inches behind him!

 

I could see this excited Bret, as his massive dick started to grow in his pants.  I was so turned on I couldn't contain myself!  I unzipped his fly, and with some difficulty given its size, managed to pull his swelling rod out of his pants.  If Eric wasn't intimidated by Bret's height, he certainly was by the size of Bret's monstrous erection, and he quickly made an exit.  I was dripping wet, partly from seeing even a giant like Eric frightened off by Bret's immensity, and partly from the realization that I now stood seven-foot-four!

 

I had no condoms, but I could not be denied that mammoth **** at this moment!  I slid my panties down my long, long legs and lay back on the table, my legs stretching all the way to the floor and my huge boobs straining against my shirt, my hardened nipples pointing straight at Bret.  He aimed his massive tool at me, and I reached forward and gently carressed it.  As I guided it toward my hungry pussy, I whispered "Get out before you come."  Bret nodded.

 

The feeling of his skin inside me instead of latex was amazing, and I actually felt closer to Bret than I ever had.  As he pushed deeper and deeper inside me, I was on the brink of a powerful orgasm.  But I started to get worried.  "Pull out!" I yelled at him, despite my every desire.  "Pull out!"

 

"Not yet!" he yelled back.  "I know what I'm doing!"

 

He continued to gyrate, his massive member pushing further and further within me, until all seven-foot-four of me erupted in a shattering climax!  In my screams of pleasure, I gasped "Get out!"  He pulled out (a move given extra suspense by his outrageous length) and just seconds later started spewing incredible amounts of his white goo across the room.  I couldn't believe how much there was, or how far he shot it, but it just wouldn't stop!  I grabbed his cannon in my hands and pointed it at a stack of Ketonga brochures.  Target practice!  Bret's man-juice drenched the brochures, then the medical forms, and then a stack of award certificates before he finally stopped spraying.  "Wow," I uttered in awe.  "You can really do some damage with that thing."

 

Though we were still technically camp counselors, Bret and I spent our days growing and ****ing and barely even saw the kids.  We had sex every way we could think of, on any surface, inside or outside, standing, sitting, forwards, backwards... and constantly.  More often than not, we lived dangerously and went without condoms, Bret pulling out in time each time.  It just felt better.  And despite the mess, I enjoyed watching him spew everywhere, onto everything.

 

Eric aside, the other counselors were seeming so small to us, but in the normal world they were towering!  Caroline was now six-one, and she seemed like a child next to me!  And in only a matter of weeks, I realized (to no one's surprise, given my history) that I had grown taller than even Eric.  It's not that he'd stopped growing.  I was just growing faster.  Bret and I were now the two tallest counselors at Ketonga, with me standing a full seven-foot-seven, and Bret seven-nine.  My only regret was that there was only a week left of camp.

 

At the year-end measuring ceremony, Bret was seven-nine and a half, the tallest on record, though still a half-inch shy of Zac when he left.  I was surprised to be measured at seven-foot-eight, because I hadn't realized I'd grown another inch in only a week!  The rest of the measuring was an anti-climax.  I was again the biggest gain, as if there could be any doubt.  (I was slightly miffed that I was a half-inch shy of my last year record.)  All other achievements paled in comparison to me and Bret, and me especially.  To keep our heads in the group photo, Bret and I had to lean over in the back row.  Even among the giants, we were now behemoths.

 

That night, as I sat on the couch playing with Bret's giant ****, I lamented that it was the end of an era.  No longer would we experience the thrill of growing together, of wondering how big we could get, the excitement of outgrowing our wildest dreams.  Soon, I'd be back by myself, in the world of the average, which seemed confined and tiny to me now.  That's when I got the idea.  I started to stroke Bret's manhood with long, passionate strokes, swirling my tongue around his massive ****head, until I could tell he was about to burst!  Then I stopped.  I stood up to my full height, my massive boobs in his face.  "Let's stay," I said.

 

"What?" he asked, completely at my mercy.

 

"What are we going back for?" I asked.  "When we can stay here and get bigger than we could possibly imagine!"

 

"But my basketball scholarship..." Bret protested into my cleavage.

 

"All those schools competed for you when you were seven-foot-three!" I told him.  "You really think they won't want you when you're eight-foot-three?"

 

"Are we allowed to stay?" he asked.

 

"Do you really think anybody is capable of stopping us from doing anything we like now?" I laughed.  Bret was so ready to explode I think an errant breeze would have made him come.

 

"Okay," he agreed.  "We'll stay!"

 

"Goody!" I exclaimed as I lowered my boobs onto his aching ****.  Immediately, I felt the canyon between my mountains fill up with his hot goo.  It was the feeling of victory.

 

The other counselors looked awed and a little scared when we told them we were staying.  When I saw little Caroline, I could hardly believe we were once the same height (and that height was a good ten inches shorter than she was now!).  But inside of a day, Bret and I had Ketonga all to ourselves.

 

The height measure maxed out at a woefully inadequate seven-foot-four, so we marked our heights off on the wall of the bunkhouse we'd chosen to stay in.  (I noticed another mark way down on the wall, and realized that was the mark when I'd hoped to grow to five-eight.  Wow, I'd set my hope low back then!)  We moved six mattresses together to form a bed, and quickly christened it.  Having the whole place to ourselves, to grow and **** to our heart's content, was exciting, and the sex was epic.  The weather was great, the woods were isolated, and for days on end, we never even bothered to put on clothes.

 

When we did decide to get dressed, we discovered that even the biggest clothes from the supply cabinet weren't big enough for us.  So we ordered some shirts and shorts online from a big and tall specialist, figuring clothes made for really obese people had a decent chance of fitting over us.  When the box arrived at the post office, we got a notice that we'd have to go pick it up... sort of a problem for naked giants.

 

Since he could go shirtless, Bret got the job.  I managed to squeeze a pair of gym shorts onto him, though they were so tight the outline of his massive meat was obvious as it snaked down only an inch or so from the bottom of the shorts leg.  "Whatever you do," I told him, "don't get turned on."  I nibbled on his ear to tease him for a moment, and sure enough, his rod swelled just enough to poke out of the bottom of his shorts.  "See?" I said.  "Don't do that."  And I tucked him back in.

 

When Bret returned with the box, he had a look of disbelief on his face.  "Holy ****, people are tiny!" he said.  "I mean, I knew we were huge, but then I'm standing next to them and they barely came up to my waist and they were staring, all of them, and I could tell they felt so stunted and inadequate..."

 

I glanced down to Bret's crotch, where his bulging **** was threatening to tear his skin-tight shorts apart.  "Did it turn you on?" I asked, eagerly.

 

Bret grinned.

 

"Well, you must have given them a hell of a show," I told him.  "I'd be worried, except I know I'm the only gal huge enough to take your monster."  I was breathing faster now, thinking about towering over the little people.  I pushed Bret up against the wall, my giant boobs pressing against his chest, and soon our tongues were intertwined.  As we did it, I noticed something that I could tell Bret noticed, too, though neither of us said anything about it:

 

I was now looking directly into Bret's eyes.  I was now as tall as Bret.

 

Of course, we were not the same height for long.  While Bret grew another inch to finally top out at an incredible eight-foot-four, I kept right on growing.  Eight-five, eight-six, eight-seven... it seemed like I was gaining an inch each week.

 

But now it was getting colder, and even the obese-people's clothes were getting too tight.  Bret said it first: "Maybe it's time to leave Ketonga."

 

"What is it, shorty?" I teased.  "Worried if I grow any bigger, I'm going to leave you for Godzilla?"  And I shut him up by smothering him in my boobs.

 

It was another two weeks before he brought it up again.  From my marking on the wall, I could see I'd only gained another half-inch in that time.

 

"We're almost out of food," he said.  "We've got to go."

 

"You're just saying that because you've stopped growing!" I complained.  "I haven't!  Who knows how much bigger I could still get?"

 

"Maybe another inch or two," Bret replied.  "You're slowing down.  And without any food or clothes that fit, we can't stay here all winter."

 

I knew he was right.  "Let's just stay through the weekend," I told him.  "Say our goodbyes to Camp Ketonga."

 

On the last morning, Bret and I skinny-dipped in the lake.  As we floated together on our backs, staring up at the clouds, my body felt relaxed and enormous, like I was soaking in the final effects of Ketonga.  My huge breasts floated above the water like islands, and I held on to Bret's massive erection like a handle, slowly massaging it with my fingers to keep it hard.  I had reached the end of my growth, but I couldn't help wondering what would have happened if I'd never left Ketonga from the first day I got here.  I could easily be fifteen feet tall by now!

 

There were no clothes that fit us, so we wrapped sheets around us, secured them with safety pins, and walked to the nearest town.  As we started passing people on the way, I realized that Bret had actually undersold the rush I would feel upon seeing the tiny people staring up at us.  I guess I hadn't realized just how high my perspective on them would be.

 

The first store we saw was a mini-mart, and we found that even bending our bodies down far enough to fit through the door was a challenge.  When we stood up, my head hit the ceiling much sooner than I'd expected -- again, I had underestimated just how towering I was.  The two of us hunched over, brushing the ceiling, looking down at the undersized man at the register who stared up at us in awe and, I think, fear.  "Do you have a phone?" I asked.  He instantly handed me a cordless, but I found my fingers were too big to hit the buttons accurately.  I handed it back to him.  "Call information for me," I demanded, surprised by my own lack of social graces.  I guess they just seemed unnecessary and patronizing.

 

I called Tony Loncar -- you know, the sports agent? -- and by that night we were in a hotel having clothes made for us.  It felt good to wear clothes again, and I felt sexy in them, imagining what the people who made this huge bra and world's longest minidress must have thought.  Tony is, as you may know, the most powerful agent in sports, but I found that nobody intimidates me anymore, and I told him matter-of-factly that we would be paying him half his usual percentage.  He didn't object.

 

By now, I'm sure most of you realize that Bret is Bret Nathanson, who'll be starting with the Lakers next week.  Highest salary in sports, period, not even counting endorsements.  (The Knicks offered a tiny bit more, actually, but I couldn't live in New York.  Too many awnings.  I can't duck down to seven feet every twenty yards.)  Right now, I've chosen to sit back and let the media have a field day with the eight-foot-four-inch wonder.  Nine inches taller than Manute Bol!  It's not even close!  Once the season starts, though, I imagine there will be quite a stir when they realize that, on the sidelines, their giant is accompanied by a girlfriend who stands five inches taller.

 

In the meantime, I'll keep as low a profile as a woman who stands close to nine feet tall can.  Bret and I got a house in Malibu, right on the beach, with ten foot ceilings.  I sun myself outside on the upper deck, and I'm sure people who see me just think they're misunderstanding the perspective.  I'm watching them as I write this, and it's kind of funny -- I can see on their faces that something doesn't make sense.  Soon, they'll all know, but for now I'm laying low.

 

Ooops.  There's Bret, pulling up in his convertible jeep (the only car we've found so far that can fit us).  I've been so horny for him all day, and seeing him loom over everybody around him now, and seeing their faces staring up in disbelief that a person could be that huge, just makes me that much hornier.

 

Little do those small, intimidated people know that just upstairs, there's a woman so big she intimidates even him.  I know he's been working out all day, but it's time for me to give him my own workout.

 

So I'm going to end this now.  Look for me at the Staples Center on the sidelines!  I'll be easy to spot -- I'll be the girl who dwarfs the entire NBA.

 

The End