Jonathan woke up. The air inside the house was still cold from the night and the room still dark. It was early. He rolled around a bit, but sleep evaded him. The flashing red numbers on the clock indicated it was around six and a half. Annoyed, Jonathan sat up, pushed his covers and rubbed his eyes. He knew he slept about seven hours, he should be able to function today. Jonathan put his bathrobe on, put on a pair of socks and slowly went down the stairs to the first floor. He didn't want to wake up his guest, and so walked as soft as possible. Jonathan passed in front of the living room, quickly gave a side glance and everything looked fine. The room was dark but he saw the vague shape of Kayla sleeping soundly. It seemed she was completely spread out, and so Jonathan didn't feel comfortable in lingering on in this very private moment. He figured the sound of him starting the coffee machine might wake her up anyway.
Jonathan poured some grinded beans in the filter. The peculiar smell of coffee firing up his nerves in anticipation. The silence was broken with the mechanical click of the start button. The machine siphoned some water, boiled it and mixed the fine grain. Jonathan prepared two coffee mugs by dropping some sugar at the bottom. In a few minutes, the morning brew was ready.
"Smells good! You making some coffee?" boomed a strong voice behind him. Jonathan's heart skipped a small bit. He finished mixing the milk and took one mug to give to Kayla. He turned, and saw something out of this world. There, standing as best as she could in the door frame, hunched down to make sure her head did not hit the ceiling, stood the tallest human person Jonathan ever witnessed. Kayla had her arm over her head to protect it, her neck bent and almost touching the ceiling, her knees bent to try and give herself more room. There, contrasting against the pale wood of the walls, was Kayla's dark skin; a draft of air passing between her limbs brought to Jonathan the small distinct smell of distant sweat: left overs from Kayla's night ministrations. A few seconds passed in silence. Jonathan's stare gave way from surprise to confusion. His hand warming with the mug of coffee.
"Holy shit you're huge." delivered the surprised host, in the most deadpan voice he could manage. Kayla smiled. She shambled toward the kitchen table. The wooden floor cried at this moving weight, not felt in years. Jonathan simply eyed this beast of a woman stepping through his kitchen, seemingly taking the entire space available, if only through her presence. She pulled a stool. To her, it felt like a small child seat. Her behind, despite her lanky frame, was too wide, overflowing over the side of it. Both her knees were bent, bringing them over the table's height so long her legs where. Despite everything, Jonathan tried to act as casual as possible. But Kayla could see the red shade on the skin of his face. Jonathan was at a loss for words and it showed. She knew she would have to break the ice.
She took the mug. Her thumb and forefinger large enough to pick it not unlike a small tea cup. Jonathan was looking away in shame, trying to resist looking at Kayla's chest where the small outdoor breeze had hardened the thick nipples pointing out from her wide, black, areolas.
"Sorry for the lack of clothes. As you probably realized, they don't fit anymore. Don't worry, I don't care." Jonathan took a sip of coffee, and looked at Kayla.
The imposing woman counted her story: her previous life on the coast, her first spurts, how they happened, and her following run away towards familiar safety, towards the idea of a new life. As she recounted the past events in detail, Jonathan eyes simply fixed her with passion.
"... and that's about it,'' she finished.
