Warren's Tangerine

Human: Warren
Giant: Tangerine
A sweet a peach as there was ever, my Tangerine. My twenty foot tall Tangerine.s We sat near a campfire out in the woods just listening to the woods around us. Well, ‘sat’ is what I did. Tangerine laid on her side taking in all the heat she could to her face. She was a giant, modern and dignified with clothes and purpose in the world. She worked on a citrus farm earning her nickname that everyone called her by. Her real name was long and guttural, a cultural hang over from the days her people raided towns and stole virgins for lonely wizards. Nowadays they could be their own people and do their own things. She, as my luck would have it, chose to travel with me.
We met on the plantation she worked on. It was the end of the season and Tangerine, having collected and boxed the fruit already, essentially was given until the start of next season to do her own thing. Farmer Daniels damned any notion of her helping local competing farms so every year he’d pay her a stipend to just take the rest of the season off and do her thing. That’s when we met. She loaded her fruit onto the back of my cart and asked if she could join me to the city. I gave it serious thought. She was civilized, yes, but not all of humanity was if you catch my meaning. Still. No bandit in a hundred miles would consider challenging a convoy of fruit protected by a freaking giant- so I agreed to the matter and said she could tag along. Not that I could’ve stopped her if I wanted but it was great knowing that it was respected between us in any case.
I thought about her as she laid on her side by the fire. The flames were large and impressive- she’d helped with stick collecting so it resembled a bonfire rather than a campfire. It was impressive all the same though. With the light and nothing else to do, I got a really good look at her. She was easy on the eyes. Large troll-hide clothes. That made me smile- trolls were annoying bastards and their ability to regenerate made them horribly frightening to encounter alone. But a giant like her could just pick one up and snap it’s head clean on. Regenerate from that you hairy bastards.
“Did you make that yourself?” I asked her, trying for small talk. She looked at me, the first real moment of conversation was between us now.
“No. I…I got it from my parents.” She told me.
“It’s impressive.” I noted.
“Yeah its…it’s troll hide. It’s funny, when you tear it, it actually regenerates back into its proper shape.” She was opening up to me now. “You know how dragon hide resists fire?”
“Yeah.” I answered. She sat up someone, propped up on her elbow.
“Well, troll hide has magical properties as well. Dragon hide has to be treated in either the dragon’s own blood during the tanning process, which is gross and expensive, or you can condense the residual magic and oils into an essence and use that. But trolls are different, they regenerate but never from fire, so you have to boil their fat and use that to…” She grew quite. She was shy, a strange trait from someone that could crush me in an instant. “Sorry.” She continued. “I should’ve just said it was troll hide. It’s been a while since I met my folks and…well sometimes I miss them.”
“No! I like hearing from you. It seems like you know what you’re talking about.” I said.
She smiled at my reassurance. “Warren…” she said.
“Yeah that’s me.” I replied.
“I’m Tangerine.” She said.
“Good to meet you Tangerine.” I said. We knew who we were. There was a something in the air between us now. Not sure what it was but it was there.
“You know Warren. These farms are pretty remote. Even for a farm. And a farm that hires a giant? Well, I can’t imagine how many days you’ve been on the road alone.” Tangerine said.
“That is true.” I thought bitterly. Citrus in the kingdom was valued for preventuing scurvy. But it’s value came from having to actually ship it at least three hundred miles away by road. The cooling spell on the wagon would only last two months before it needed recharging so I’d had to travel as far as possible by daylight without spilling anything. A good season could have me hauling citrus, melons, nut squash and snozzberries. “We’ve gotta be at least thirty to fifty miles from the next person.” I didn’t tell her I was saving a fortune by having her around. With a giant around one didn’t need to hire armed crossbow men for protection, which is what I typically did heading out from the farm way out here.
“Nothing out here but the owls. And the trees.” She paused to sit up, looking at me. “And each other.” She turned away. There was a smile on her face that I didn’t miss. She said it in a way to give her plausible deniability but I caught her meaning.
‘Oh.’ I thought. This was different. She was…hitting on me. Shy. A bit. But clearly, at an advantage.
“That’s true.” I said trying to steer conversation through these uncharted waters. “The privacy of being alone in the woods is second to none.” The inside of my head ran wild. I felt something and I took a shot at it- “You wanna…I mean we could talk so more or…” I was flopping I didn’t know what to say I had no idea what the fuck was going on oh fuck oh shit.
She turned to me with a sparkle in her eyes, an idea. “I could do that. I can tell you all about my people.” She said.
I was curious to know where she would go with this.
“My people,” she continued “used to live in the woods. We were a savage people. We wore what we found and took what we wanted. Now we make buildings and clothes. My family makes outfits that repair themselves. I’ll show you.” She tore at the collar of ‘shirt’. It was a loud, distinct ripping sound. It took me out of the moment and let me know that she could rip me clean in half like that if she wanted. But that thought drifted away like a feather in the wind when I saw what she was doing. She was making a series of tears down the middle, showing two curves of breasts clearly in the fire and the moonlight. “See? Watch this.” She said to me. When she pulled the tear open a bit further I could see more of the curve of her breasts beneath. She stopped and sure enough the shirt began mending itself, pulling it tighter and from what I could see briefly- her cleavage up higher.
“Like that.” She said. “Of course nowadays we have to. Wear clothes I mean. But…I mean.” Even in this light I could see some part of her daring to come out and just take control. “I mean. The whole shirt can fix itself. Can I show you?” She asked me.
“Yes.” I said simply, not moving or expressing beyond what I was probably poorly containing.
In one swift movement she tore open the whole front of her shirt. For a moment I thought I saw something but then she was holding her shirt like a vest now. The points of her breasts hid and concealed just ever so slightly, right there beneath her hands holding her shirt right at that place. She seemed to stumble in place, moving forward and backward and went through with it. She casually took off the shirt and held it forward in front of her. She was utterly topless now, staring very intently at the self-healing shirt in front of her as it stitched itself together. Her attention on the shirt was about as intense as my attention towards her breasts now. Nipples pointed in the air and casting the tiniest of shadows on her from this angle.
“Like that.” She said. She looked up at me. A smile trying to hide itself but doing so poorly in her excitement.
“Well,” I went along with her fake professionalism. “all things considered it’s probably best to give your shirt a rest for the moment. Healing probably takes a lot out of it so maybe you just let it…dry by the fire. And we are in nature. It’s only natural.”
She had a shit eating grin on her face now. She bunched the shirt in her hand and tossed it by the fire.
I made my own go of things. “You know Tangerine. Without a shirt though, you might be pretty cold over there. If you want I could help warm you up by the fire.”
She looked at me and pretended to give it some thought. “Yeah that makes sense.”
I stood up and walked over to where she was, as I did she laid on one elbow again. All the better to have full access to her without having to climb up anything. I stood by her face, silently appraising the view. I put my hand on her face and walked down the length of her, my hand making a trail along her body. My hand traced along her neck, down her front and over the curve of her extended breast. I made sure to be slow as I walked there, grabbing one of her nipples firmly and expressly for as long as I could before letting my fingertips trace away from it. Down her stomach I heard and felt her breathe deeply. I turned back briefly to see that she’d closed her eyes, focusing on my touch. Down to her pants, I tugged briefly at her beltline before finishing up to lean on her ankles. She looked at me now. “So.” I said, casually as ever. “Do these pants repair themselves too?”