Wedding Preparations - Hooking up with the Ex Part 3
By Pac  pac 
Billie and John get ready for their destination wedding


Well, less than four months after my divorce, there I was, engaged to my first
fianc'e again. She had gone from slightly pudgy, thickly-built hottie, to
impossibly musclebound goddess over the course of the last six years or so,
and our sex life was insane. Using her incredible strength and her endless
energy, she had lifted, thrown, bent, shaped and twisted my body in ways I
never thought could be done ... but in a good way.

The sex was just off the scale in terms of quality and quantity. The times we
did come up for air, she would exult in showing off for me, teasing me with
the unbelievable things her body could do.

Don't get me wrong, there were more mundane times as well, as much as you can
call being with a superpowered Amazon mundane ... but we did start up a new
life together remarkably well. The kids were reintroduced to me, and it was
scary how much they had grown in six years. Abby was now 12 and Jason 10, and
both seemed to have acclimated to their new life up north. They went to a
private boarding school, with frequent visits from their mother. They
cautiously warmed back up to me, but I'm sure they still had issues, and I was
okay with that. I would try my best to be the father figure to them their
biological father never would.

And then there were the living arrangements. I was loathe to give up my newly
acquired loft on the riverfront, but Billie's place was just so much more
livable space, so I broke my lease (at great expense, I might add), and moved
in with Billie at her Market Square condo. It was a four bedroom triple condo,
with Billie having spared no expense making the 21st floor her very own, and
being the full-floor penthouse condo definitely had its perks. There was so
much privacy, and the few times we made enough noise to be heard downstairs,
the people living below were very gracious. Maybe her physique had something
do to with that, but who knows?

So we got back into the engaged couple swing, dating, rekindling our old flame
and reacquainting ourselves with each other over the next few months. We
planned a getaway vacation to the Pacific Islands for our honeymoon and
wedding, with only a small group of close friends and family, set for one year
to the day from our first Market Square meeting, a very special date for us.

I still had to get used to the new and improved Billie, though, and there were
some growing pains, as there are with all relationships. For one thing, she
ate ALL THE TIME. Her specialized exercise regimen required her to eat six
full-sized meals a day, and she loved to cook, so the condo's pantry was
filled with the most wonderful assortment of drygoods, herbs, spices, and
ingredients for the excellent meals we prepared. We took a gourmet cooking
course about five months into our new engagement, and, ever since, we have
been whipping up at least three of the extraordinary culinary delights each
day.

It was a lot of fun, and we always played around sexually when we cooked,
teasing each other with pieces of food ... sort of 9 1/2 Weeks, Amazon-style.
It did take a lot of time, though, so every waking moment I wasn't cooking or
working out, I was either having sex or trying desperately to meet some of my
software development deadlines, which kept slipping farther and farther behind
...

Billie's real workouts were simply amazing. I had never seen a ballet of
weight lifting motion like hers, and she just intuitively knew which way to
isolate individual muscle groups for maximum effect, and how to vary exercises
to get the most out of every workout. The nicest thing about it was her
workouts got unbelievable results, but weren't overly lengthy. She once told
me she was of the "work smart AND hard" crowd, and she was living proof of the
results.

In the few months we had been engaged, she had gone from pressing me x3
one-armed overhead to me x4, and her bench was me x12! She used my body as a
reference, not caring that I had gained weight since we got back together. I
was her reference point, as I had been all those years ago when she first
picked up my abandoned free weights.

Her legs strengthened proportionately to her upper body, and the sheer amout
of steel she could lift with them was mind boggling. One of her happiest days
was when she had to have her old stationary leg press machine disassembled and
a new, bigger one, with about 1000 more pounds of weight, built on site to her
specifications. The team of guys that built it were just astounded at the
sheer massiveness of the designs they were given, and even moreso when it was
finally put together and Billie demonstrated just WHY it needed to be so
sturdy. The day she put up 3200 pounds on the leg press was one I fondly look
back upon, because the celebration that came afterward was one for the record
books, a marathon lovefest that left me half-dead and her thoroughly
satisfied.

Needless to say, I had to hit the stacks to even remotely keep up with her,
and I was now up to 230 pounds of solid muscle. Billie was now up to 280, but
she still looked like she did when I first met her, only bulkier. Everything
was in the exact same proportion, even her boobs!

I had asked her one time how she kept her huge boobs, when other weight
lifters had lost theirs through the fat burning their body did as a function
of the extreme exercise, and she said, "You just need to balance your intake
with your output, right? I keep my caloric intake higher than my output, and
the excess fat just seems to go right to my boobs. That, and I have a lot of
breast tissue."

Speaking of her boobs, she knew they were one of my biggest weaknesses, and
used them against me constantly. I would work in my office, the converted
fourth bedroom of the condo, and she would sneak in, impressively quiet for a
280 pound woman of steel, and just drop them on my head as I worked, burying
my entire head between her massive cleavage, then arching her back up and
hoisting me right out of my seat.

She said she only did it when I spent too long in my office.

Her tits were so big she didn't even need to use her hands to hold them
together, just flex her massive pecs with my head trapped between. It smooshed
the breast tissue around my face, but their mass was such that it held me
tight. She teased me and had me try to get my head out once, but of course I
couldn't, even pushing against her incredible abs as hard as I could ... like
she said, even her tits were stronger than me.

She actually found out once she could pick up nearly three hundred pounds by
squeezing one of her smaller weight bars between her tits, with plates stacked
below! It was the most incredible sight: she squatted in front of the bar,
wrapped her huge tits around it, flexed her pecs hard, and arched back a
little and up it came.

Of course, she had to do that with me, so one day I stepped on a 25 pounder
collared at the end, and she picked me and the bar up like that, too. It
didn't help her lift that I was playing with her tits the entire time, but she
was still able to do it.

But, one of the other growing pains was the fact that she was always in
motion, increasing her strenghth and flexibility ... always on the move, going
to visit clients, working on their routines, move, move, move.

I personally was more of a nester ... which, being a software designer and
programmer, meant spending lots of time in a chair, typing code. She always
came in to distract me, though, so the deadlines were piling up ... . I'm sure
it was only a matter of time before I started losing my freelance gigs, but I
figured with her income it didn't matter much. I would just become a
professional house boy.

"You need to balance your inert time, John. That is the key to everything ...
balance." She once told me, showing me how she could do a conventional curl
with five times my body weight, then alternating the curl to work the sides of
her biceps, then the triceps, then shoulders, then upper back, then pecs ...
all in the same series of motions! It was unconventional by any "professional"
assessment, and she took great pains to ensure it was not duplicated or stolen
by any of her clients, who were surprisingly numerous.

She also went on frequent trips, necessitated by her clients who did not live
close. She would fly out, stay over a few days, then come back, claiming she
needed to "get back her figure", and disappear into her weight room for a few
hours. Those were the only times when she did not want me with her, because
she needed the intense focus necessary to really isolate and achieve maximum
gains.

Which brings me to the timeframe of my current tale: our wedding was only
three weeks out, and Billie was finishing up talking to the agency that had
booked the destination wedding for us, booking the guests' tickets and
accommodations, and all of the final touches, including her wedding gown. I of
course had not been allowed to see it, but had been told it was stunning by my
mother, who had been coming and going over the last few weeks, fussing over
her son's wedding to his "real soulmate" a jab at my ex-, who she never could
stand.

I sat in front of my desk full of laptops, working of the final lines of code
for my dreadfully overdue process automation software contract, and I heard
the gentle footfalls of my wife-to-be creeping up behind me. Excited to see
what kind of slick "distraction" technique she has in store for me, I typed
away, pretending to be oblivious to her approach.

Without warning, the entire chair lifted up off the floor with me in it. My
hands quickly gripped the armrests as I rose quickly toward the ceiling,
stopping at her arm's extension above the ground. The chair's seat swiveled as
she tilted the chair at a forty five degree angle, looking up at me with a big
grin, her left hand on her hip, beautiful auburn hair pulled into a ponytail.
She had on workout gear, as usual, and it was drenched with sweat from her
latest mind-blowing regimen. I could tell her legs were super-pumped and
looked about half again as big as they normally did. I quickly tried to
calculate what 1.5 times enormous was, then just took in the breathtaking
sight of her as she held me and my chair over her head with one mighty hand,
gripping the post just above part with the castors on it.

"Hey, why don't you come down here and help me get all cleaned up? We have a
date tonight, remember?" she asked, giving the chair a little shake to try to
dislodge me.

I held tight, my own smile forming as we played our latest game, shake the
John from his chair.

"Okay ... but you have to MAKE me, and your handicap is that you can only use
your single arm, and you have two minutes, or I win," I said with a naughty
smile on my lips.

"You're on!" she said with enthusiasm.

"Here's your other handicap," I said, and unfastened my belt, lashing it
around the little post that held the seatback, and looping it through my belt
loops on my khaki shorts.

"Ooh ... I love a challenge," she said, and brought me back down to a less
lofty height, so she could survey my arrangement and formulate a strategy.
After ten seconds, she set the chair back on the floor, getting ready for the
speed round.

"Okay, I think I've got it ... when does the clock start?" she asked.

"Now!" I said, and she bent sideways at the waist and reached her arm around
the back of the chair. She gripped the post I had lashed my belt over in her
strong right hand. Then she stood straight up, raising the chair and my body
with her obliques alone, and lifted me up in a slow arc over her head, so I
lay on my back. I tilted my head backward to see her grinning up at me,
completely confident in her ability to win.

"Are you ready?" she asked, and I shook my head yes from my awkward position.

I heard the groaning of metal, and felt the seat fall away from my body: she
had just crushed the metal post in one hand! I didn't hear the seat hit the
ground though, so it must still be attached. She then set the seat back down,
tilting my body gently back to an upright position, my butt finding purchase
on the seat again. My body rolled around on the castors, as I could feel her
twist and bend the seatback post more with her super powerful arm alone. I
felt a little snap, and once again I felt my body rise up as her hand lifted
me and the seatback free of the rest of the chair, my belt digging into my
hips as I rose to the height of her shoulder.

The belt was now resting atop her hand, which still held the seatback like the
sort of traffic stop signal a crossing guard would use. I felt her fingers
against my back as she opened her hand, and I felt the seatback and the post
fall out of the belt loop, grazing my back as it did. She deftly dodged to the
side as the seatback fell, my body moving with her as she hopped lightly out
of the way. I could now see the ruined piece of junk that used to be my $600
dollar ergonomic computer desk chair, the metal post pinched down to about
1/10 of its normal diameter, and cleanly sheared off from her twisting it. I
felt her hand tighten on my belt, and she bounced me up and down a little to
celebrate her success.

"How long was that?" she asked, laughing.

"By my watch, it looks like a little over forty five seconds," I said, "and I
need to rethink my physical challenge strategy ... at least the timing. I
thought that post would last longer than that. They really don't make them
like they used to."

"Maybe you should get a solid metal tube in the back ... that would take me a
lot longer. That wimpy thing was like squeezing a piece of cardboard," she
said, looking at my chair.

"Nah, that one is super comfortable ... was super comfortable," I replied,
looking over at it. I wonder if they won't mind fixing it again, I thought.

"Besides, I don't want you to lose," I said, still hanging by my belt, "I kind
of like the victory requests. They're usually right up my alley."

"Haha, you said right UP your alley," she said, lifting me high over her head
as she said

'up'. "I think you are right up MY alley!"

"I'm ready to go up your alley, baby," I said in return, keeping up the sexual
tension.

She pivoted her wrist, swinging my body around the face her, then brought me
down for a strong kiss, her tongue probing my mouth, my body still dangling
from my belt.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, until she finally set me down.

"What do I get for winning?" she said, as I stood facing her.

"What do you want?"

"You in the shower in thirty seconds from ... now!" she said, and I took off
running, pulling my belt off as I went.

I dashed down the hall, full speed, past the weight room, and into the master
bedroom, leaping over the king-sized bed. I could hear footsteps pounding
after me, and I bounced off the door as I failed to round the corner to the
bathroom.

Billie was hot on my heels, vaulting over the bed completely and missing me by
inches, as I dashed into the bathroom. I could hear the heavy crunch of the
door getting hit by her weight at full-speed, and I pulled open the big door
to the walk-in shower in the master bathroom, sliding my pants down my legs
and kicking them backward toward Billie as I heard her advance.

I started peeling my shirt up over my head when I felt her big body press into
me from behind, her hands reaching up to capture my arms at the biceps, my
shirt halfway over my head. I felt my feet leave the floor, my body sliding
upward against her incredible tits. She lifted me until her arms locked above
her head, and started planting kissed on my bare back, my ass resting on the
huge shelf of her tits. They were so big I could almost sit on them like a
seat, much more comfortable than my now-defunct computer chair ... I wonder if
she wouldn't mind me working like this on my laptop ... ?

I felt her swing around, and she took one of her arms away. I then heard the
shower start up, hitting me right in the crotch with cold water. I jerked my
body, letting out a yell, and I heard her loud laughter.

"Woohoo, big boy ... how's that for a cool-down?" she teased, holding me in
front of the shower head, the cold water icing down my crotch. She had
replaced her hand on my other bicep now, and she held me out toward the shower
head, me squirming and struggling to get away from the freezing spray, my hips
bouncing off her big tits as she held me effortlessly.

After a little more teasing, she moved me out of the way of the shower's jet,
and lowered me back down. She pulled my shirt up over my head, turned me
around to face her, and pinned me to the wall with her huge tits. She must
have stripped off her shirt as she ran after me to the bathroom, but her pants
were still on. They were getting a light misting from the main shower nozzle
as it splashed on her right leg. I could feel it was starting to warm up, so I
pressed the little button beneath the temperature knob to start up the other
jets located strategically around the shower stall, and they came to life,
filling the chamber with their spray.

The shower warmed up quickly, but the first cold shots from the other nozzles
hit Billie full-on, dousing her body from both sides, drenching her pants, and
causing her let out a little yelp. Her big nipples beginning to go turgid. I
watched in awe as they rose off her huge breasts in an awesome display. She
and jumped back out of the water, and I watched as her big nipples lengthened
and thickened, sticking out an inch from her incredible heaving breasts.

"Payback's a bitch, honey," I teased, as I leaned over and licked her huge
right breast, starting at her nipple and tracing up the slope of her massive
breast, my tongue running over the goose bumps, up to her waiting mouth, which
closed on mine.

She pressed into me again with her tits, squeezing my body to the wall with
incredible force, her big arms pressing on the wall to either side of my head,
massive arms and shoulders flaring. I brought my hands up to the sides of her
tits, feeling their huge masses, running my hands over them and caressing them
while I probed my tongue into her mouth.

She brought her knee up to gently rub against my crotch and pushed my now
hardening penis to the side. Then she raised her huge thigh, sliding my body
up the wall. I craned my neck down to keep the kiss, but the distance became
too great and our lips parted.

"Now I have you right where I want you, baby," she said, "and I want you to
worship my body like you never have before. That's what I want for winning.
You can start right here."

She brought up her huge left arm, cocking it to make her bicep swell up to its
full massive height, the peak rising skyward. She twisted her torso, sliding
her big left tit over my lower chest and stomach, bringing her arm closer to
my face, her bicep coming within inches of my mouth.

I grabbed her massive upper arm in my hands, not even close to encompassing
half of its awesome girth, and begun kissing and worshipping the huge peak of
her bicep, tracing my tongue over the big vein that ran over its gigantic
head, running my tongue down its awesome slopes to the crook of her bicep and
forearm, and running my hands all over her triceps and up to her shoulder. She
moaned in appreciation, and slid her huge left tit all over my chest, pushing
my weaker upper body around as it rested on her thigh.

I felt her right hand slide up her big thigh to grasp my cock, and begin
sliding slowly down its fully engorged length. She let out a little moan as I
kept up the muscle worship, working up her forearm that rose majestically
above my head to end in her powerful fist, balled tight. As I got close to her
hand, she opened it and slid her arm down, sliding the back of her hand down
the side of my face and down to my chest. I felt her turn her hand around when
it reached my chest, and felt incredible pressure as she pushed her open hand
into me hard. She slid her big tit over so it wasn't touching my body any
more, and dropped her leg, holding me against the side of the shower with the
incredible pressure of her hand pushing my body into the wall.

It was not entirely uncomfortable, but not entirely comfortable, either. She
rested her forearm against my lower chest and stomach, and then slowly slid my
body up the wall, her massive shoulder flaring up ever bigger. Her left pec
also swelled up from the exertion, bouncing her big tit as she continued
lifting until I was at full extension.

My penis was now at the height of her mouth, and she gave the tip a little
kiss, then took it into her mouth, sucking on the head like a lollipop.

I groaned as she mouthed my penis, giving the head little nibbles that sent
shockwaves through my body. My legs banged against the shower wall,
involuntarily twitching as she kept up the assault. I felt one foot strike the
wall of muscle of her abs, bouncing off with no more effect than to bend my
toe in an awkward direction. I'm glad it was just a little spasm and not a
full-on kick, of I'd probably have some broken toes.

"Did you mean to do that, honey?" she asked, my penis popping out of her
mouth, "because you'll have to try a lot harder..." She shot me a little
smile, knowing I didn't mean to do it, but reveling in her absolute power over
me, her invulnerability to anything I could dream of, short of hitting her
with my car ... and even that I didn't think would do much.

I looked back out of the bathroom, noticing the destroyed bathroom door as
proof of my fianc'e's indestructibility. She hit that thing full-on, and she
just changed direction toward me. The door, though, was all but annihilated,
now leaning against the wall, completely ripped off its hinges, the center of
it crushed by the impact. I had done a little damage to it myself when I hit
it, but you couldn't see that from the massive damage she caused a second
afterward.

"No, honey, that kick was not intentional," I answered. "I don't want my foot
in a cast for our wedding, so I don't think I'll be trying to kick your belly
any time soon. If you want me to stress test your belly, I'll go buy an
aluminum baseball bat." She laughed at this.

"Besides," I said, "the last thing I want you to do is stop ... but your hand
on my chest is a little constricting." She gave another little laugh as I said
that, and lifted her right hand up the cup my armpit. She slid her other hand
off my chest until it held the other armpit, holding me up with both of her
awesome arms. At this point she could probably hold up ten of me like this in
her arms, so she had zero strain with me hanging like this. Hell, her massive
muscles barely looked flexed, and I ran my hands over them, feeling their
incredible hardness.

She backed away from the wall, holding me up, my penis at mouth height. She
took it into her mouth, and moved my body back and forth with her arms,
sliding my cock into her. My knees swung into her huge boobs, their pillowy
surfaces molding around my knees and pushing way out to either side.

She never slowed, never tired ... just kept swinging me back and forth,
sliding my cock into my hot mouth, sucking like a high powered vacuum on my
cock, her massive arms bulging with raw power, my weight nothing to them.

I started reaching my climax and she popped my cock out of her mouth, dropping
me down a little and burying it in the valley between her huge tits. She
pushed my body into the wall with her huge chest, burying my hips in her
cleavage so deep her tits almost touched the wall on either side of me. Then
she let go of my hands, and held me against the wall with her tits alone, as I
bucked and spasmed, blasting my come into that awe inspiring cleavage. I saw a
tiny bit of my semen make it all the way to the d'colletage. She craned her
neck forward and licked it out of there with a little, "Mmmmm"

She laughed at me hanging from her tits.

"Look at you up there," she said. "I'll bet I could give you a tit fuck up
there just by squeezing my tits together."

And, true to her word, she brought her big arms to the side of her tits,
pressing them together and lifting them slightly, and I felt my body rise and
fall with her exertions. Her power was simply unbelievable, and I loved every
dominating minute of it. I closed my eyes as I lie with my back against the
wall, the shower nozzle about two feet below the height of my head, spraying
water mostly over Billie's shoulder, but some landing on her face and breasts,
washing away my come from her huge fleshy chasm.

"Damn, honey, if I knew you liked this 'zero g' titfuck so much, we would have
done it before now." She said, keeping up the squeezing and lifting, bouncing
my body in time.

"It's fucking incredible, but I'm so sensitive right now, and you're driving
me crazy!" I gasped and her huge tits rubbed against my sensitive penis with
renewed fervor.

She laughed again, and, slowing down, bent her knees to let me stand on my
own.

"Now ... where were we?" she asked, flexing up her other huge bicep for me to
worship.

"Yeah, we got a little sidetracked, didn't we?" I asked, grasping her massive
arm and planting a kiss on it.

I worked over her entire awesome body, kissing and rubbing and licking, biting
here and there in the right spots, and finally found myself facing her pussy,
the hot water blasting down on us both.

I dove in, reaching my arms around her huge thighs as far as I could, stabbing
my tongue into her slit as far as it would go, getting a loud moan in
response, and feeling those huge pillars of power on either side of my
kneeling body quiver with ecstasy. I felt her hands come down and rest lightly
on my head ... she had been trying her best not to be too rough, which is
really tough for her, since she is so much stronger than me. A couple of weeks
ago, we were in a similar situation, her lying on the bed with me draped over
her thighs, eating her out, and she brought her legs together a little too
strongly and bruised my ribs. Just that one pulse of her thighs, which hardly
registered to her, was enough to really hurt me, so we have been more cautious
lately. The downside to marrying an Amazon muscle goddess, I guess. I think
I've said it before, but it's a small price to pay.

I kept up the intensity, working my tongue in and out of her tight pussy like
a penis, rubbing my hands all over her huge thighs, occasionally bringing a
hand up to work her clit, and her whole body began to shake in the throes of a
huge orgasm. I felt her huge body shaking above me, and felt her big tits
slapping down on the top of my head. She curled her body down toward me in her
orgasm, her incredible abs popping out like pavers on a patio. The striations
between the muscle groups were so deep I could stick my fingers into them
almost up to the first knuckle.

I held on for dear life, bringing my hands up to hold around her torso. She
was coming down from her orgasm, and the shaking was subsiding, but I still
held on in case one last aftershock came as I slid my tongue out of her pussy,
my mouth and chin covered in her juices.

She shivered as I pulled out, but no big movements to hurl me away happened,
thankfully.

Believe me, I'm more turned on by her sheer power than anyone, but there are
times when discretion is the better part of valor.

We were fooling around once in the weight room, Billie trying to find out how
high she could "shotput" my body with one arm using just her shoulder. She had
thrown my body up about five times, and got me about twelve feet off the
ground, but she had to try that one last time and really put her all into it.

Well, she got the arc wrong, so instead up going up in a more vertical arc, I
went up at about a 50 degree angle and she couldn't get under me in time. I
crashed down from about nine feet onto my back and shoulders, about fifteen
feet away, and that hurt like hell! The whole weight room is padded ... it has
to be, considering the kind of weight she's throwing around on the 21st floor.
The drop from that height, though, coupled with the momentum from actually
throwing my body up in the air was enough to blast the wind out of my lungs
and give me sore shoulders and upper back for a week.

I'm just glad we were on the side of the room where she normally works with
the free weights, because there were no big pieces of stationary equipment
around the smash into.

Since that time, though, we have been a lot more careful about our muscle
play. We have been considering fall protection, like belaying equipment. She's
been really into throwing me up in the air lately, and I've been coming very
close to the roof, which she had heightened in her weight room to thirty feet.

And the pole, thing, well, that never went away, either, since she was saying
it was such a good workout. She got a different, reinforced steel bar about
twenty feet long and now hangs more than my body weight off it, using her arms
to control the weight and move it around. I'm waiting for her to get it up
next to the now four foot high skylight windows up at the top of the room and
fling it right over the side of the building. I'll bet that will make
someone's day when 300 pounds of steel plates come flying onto somebody's car
from a few hundred feet ...

The one other thing she's been doing lately to really bulk up is her Amazon
version of shake weights. Ever since we did the one-handed front lifts with me
resisting in against her arm, she's been really excited about getting strength
from that type of exercise, so she had two big heavy canvas bags made, stuffed
with sand, and each one with some sort of electric motion generator inside.
You turn one on, and it dances across the floor in this weird spasmodic motion
... it looks like a cross between a Mexican jumping bean and a heavy bag.
Billie will grab one of those monsters in each hand, and hold them up and I
turn the damn things on, and she sees how long she can hold out with them
jerking and bouncing all over the place.

The first time she did it, I laughed like hell because she didn't have her
balance right, and they were tossing her all over the place. It was the first
time I ever saw her "overpowered" by anything. Hell, I can't hold onto one of
the damn things sitting on the ground, it literally takes off with me on it.

She can now lift them both up over shoulder height, one in each super powered
hand, and hold out for about five minutes before she has to drop them. It is
an awe-inspiring sight ... her massive body, practically bulking up before
your eyes, arms and shoulders shaking against the 250 pound bags, them shaking
an jerking way more powerfully than I ever could. The look of effort and ... I
don't know ... supremacy ... on her face as she does that workout makes me
about come in my pants just watching it.

The coolest thing it did though was make her so super powered in her lifts
that I was like nothing to her. She held me that first time for five minutes
before she fatigued, now it's like hours. The one day she just wanted to see
how long she could hold out, and it was so long she had to do other things
with me hanging from her hand, so she went around the house, just holding me
in her one super powered arm, hanging by the front of my shirt (really super
heavy cotton work shirt ... everything else just gives up), putting dishes in
the dishwasher, all kinds of mundane stuff. She actually ate one of her meals
like that, and then out of the goodness of her heart, fed me while still
hanging up there ... it was like she was just holding nothing, not a 230 pound
man!

Anyway, I digress. We were in the final motions of planning our wedding.
Neither of us had been to Palau, but both of us wanted to go, based on the
climate, watersports like SCUBA, and the remoteness from the "real world". I
asked Billie if she would be able to stand being away from any kind of real
workout for an entire two week period, and she shrugged.

"I will try to behave myself. A few years ago, I never worked out at all, so
let's see," she said, draping her big arms over my shoulders as she peered at
the computer screen containing our flight information.

"Besides, you and I can get a different kind of workout during our honeymoon."
She said, tightening her big arms around me, making my ribs groan from her
hug.

"I don't know if I'll survive that," I said.

"Sure you will," she said, smiling, "I'll be gentle."

We had about twenty people coming in total besides us and the kids, and were
just finalizing the flights and accommodations. We were excited about our
trip, and our wedding was planned to take place on a tall ship at sea, with us
exchanging our vows at sunset (her touch). We made sure to book in the
non-cyclone season, to keep our plans from being spoiled.

"I can't wait to go to the South Pacific with you, John. I want to get away
from it all, and just be with you and the kids for two weeks," she said,
nibbling on my earlobe.

"I think it's going to be an fantastic time, and I can't wait to be your
husband," I said, back, leaning my head back to kiss her lips.

The next few weeks saw a flurry of activity as we finalized the trip,
contacted the guests and got everything in place. Billie gave the thumbs up on
the dress, and the time of the flight and trip fast approached.

***********************************

We had a last-minute scare, when the passports for the kids seemed like they
were not going to make it in time, but we were able to get them the day before
and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Billie's and my visit to the local
courthouse where we filled out the applications may have had something to do
with it ... .

I can't help but recount: we jumped through all the hoops for the
applications, got the kid's photos taken, presented all the credentials and
the clerk who helped us was very nice. However, a few weeks passed ... no big
deal, right? Then a few more passed and we started to get concerned. I called
the courthouse and got a very snide person on the phone who said we and
everyone else needed their passports right away. I said I would be right down.
I know I'm not intimidating, despite being a pretty big guy these days, but
Billie on the other hand had a knack for getting her way, whether it was
through flirting, flashing her incredible cleavage, or through sheer
demonstrations of "persuasion".

We got to the courthouse and were directed to the office of a different clerk
than the one who helped us through the applications: the same smart-alecky one
I spoke to on the phone. Apparently the other clerk handled processing of
applications, then handed stuff of to this bozo who did the Homeland Security
background checks and all of the other bureaucratic bullshit to finalize the
process. I guess he was a true "civil servant" because his backlog with about
10x the other, more friendly person.

We were seated in front of the clerk's messy desk, and the balding overweight
slob walks into the office, not even acknowledging our presence, and flops
like a beached whale into his ill-fitting office chair. He looked across his
desk at us after a five minute wait, finally letting on that we were there.

"Yes, I take it you were the gentleman I spoke to on the telephone," he said,
drawing out the word gentleman like an epithet.

"I am. I would like you to meet my bride to be, Billie," I said, turning
toward her.

She was dressed very conservatively, except her long-sleeved shirt had a nice
deep v-neck, exposing an ungodly amount of cleavage. She looked like she wore
a bra two sizes too small, and her boobs were practically leaping out of the
"v" in her shirt... Approach One, gentle persuasion.

"Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you," she said, and leaned forward to offer the
clerk her hand, presenting her bounty in a most delightful visual.

"Um, hi," the man said, talking directly into her shirt, eyes glued.

"Sir, we were wondering if we could get our kids' passports expedited. We did
fill out the applications almost a month and a half ago, and were hoping that
paying the fee for fast processing would allow us enough time to have them for
our wedding trip," I explained, without so much as a nod by the mesmerized
clerk.

Billie smiled and gave her big boobs a little shake, setting them off in a
mouth-watering display of breast movement, and the clerk seemed to snap out of
it.

He then took on his best pompous ass air, and said, "Yes, well it may be
possible to further speed up this process, but you must realize that we get
hundreds of applications each day," he said, rifling through a stack of papers
on his messy desk. They were in no particular order, or so it seemed, and
after a couple of minutes of searching, he produced the applications, with
documentation attached. We could see the kid's photographs still attached just
as they looked the day we filled out the paperwork.

It actually looked like nothing at all had been done to move this forward, and
Billie and I both got a steely look on our faces as we noticed this.

"Yes, well it looks like we still need to finalize the background information
search that our Homeland Security Department has forwarded to us. These
typically take three weeks, but I should be able to reduce that to one week at
the most." He said, looking like he gave us some great prize.

"Sir," Billie said, with the look of thunderclouds on the horizon, "those
documents look exactly the same as they did when we left here over a month and
a half ago. I don't want to belittle the big workload you obviously have, but
shouldn't something have been done in all that time? Those folders look like
they haven't even been opened."

"I assure, you, madam," the clerk said with an effete smile, like he was
talking to a child, "we have conducted our most thorough background check and
have moved this process as expeditiously as we can."

The man then got a sleazy look on his face, and addressed Billie again,
"However, we do have several options for getting this done within your needed
timeframe. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement that will benefit us both."

She got a sweet smile on her face.

"Oh? Okay, what did you have in mind?" she said, and I could feel the tension
in the room growing with rise in her temper. The room suddenly felt smaller.
"Would you like more money?"

"Oh, madam, I think you misunderstand me. That isn't exactly what is needed
here." The man tried his best to not seem like a slimeball, but it just wasn't
working. His eyes drifted back down to her cleavage.

"I need your personal assurance that you can vouch for the applicants, and I
would like you to convince me that this favor I'm doing for you is
appreciated," he said, not taking his eyes off her boobs.

I have to give her credit; she held it together remarkably well. She smiled
again, and turned to me.

"Honey, could you wait outside for me ... I need to convince our friend here,"
she gestured toward the now-smiling clerk, "how eager we are to make our
case."

I put on my best confused and hurt look, "But honey ... " I said, playing
along.

"Please, sweetie," she cooed at me, fully in character, "can you get us a few
sodas from the machine in the hall. What kind would you like, dear?" She
turned her head toward the clerk with the question, who must have been feeling
very in charge now, what with this buxom soon-to-be bride sending the
soon-to-be husband away, for her to "convince" him of her desperate need. I
almost got a big grin, but I kept it in. The clerk requested a Diet Coke, and
Billie asked for one as well.

"Okay, honey, if you think this is best ... " I said, and got up to leave.

"I do, sweetheart. I really want to show my new friend how much we appreciate
his help," she said back to me.

I walked to the door, cast a last look back toward her, and she looked at me,
hiding her evil grin from the clerk. I looked back at him, thinking, buddy,
you have NO idea what you are in for ...

I closed the door, and stood outside, wishing the man's office had a window.

It did have one of those transom windows over the door, but it was about seven
feet off the ground.

I just considered moving one of the chairs in the waiting area outside the
office to be able to peek through the transom, when I heard the first of
several thumps. I heard some voices, not raised heatedly, just conversational
in tone. First his, then hers.

I then heard a sound like a lot of items sliding off his desk and crashing
onto the floor. There was the muffled voice of the clerk, not loud enough to
hear the actual words but it sounded like a shocked exclamation.

There were another thump, and I clearly heard, "OH MY GOD!" exclaimed by the
clerk. Then I heard him say, "NO WAY!", and I then heard a loud CRACK! Like
something big had been broken, and saw a shadow pass over the light coming
from the transom above my head. I heard one last thump, then some sounds like
hurried motion from the room.

The entire exchange took maybe two minutes from the time I closed the door.

The door opened, and the clerk looked at me, his ashen face looking like he
had seen a ghost.

"E ... e ... excuse me, but I need to get something ... " he scurried away
from me, as if being chased by the hounds of hell.

He came back less then twenty seconds later, with a couple of passports in his
hands.

"Thank you." I said, and took them from him.

"You are MOST welcome," he said in a squeak.

I looked in the office, and noticed that the desk was clear of paper. Billie
was sitting in her seat as she had when we left, but now had her long-sleeved
v-neck shirt off, her huge shoulders fully exposed. Her dress for Approach
Two: Forceful Persuasion was to wear one of her skimpy workout tops, this one
able to display her amazing cleavage like a push-up bra. It was also cropped,
so that her incredible torso was fully on display. But I'm sure it was her
arms and shoulders that had elicited one of the exclamations I had heard.

The other exclamation was almost certainly caused by the fact that the clerk's
desk now had a crack running along the center of the work surface that
extended from the side facing Billie to about four inches from where the clerk
would have sat. My guess was that Billie was the person who broke it, but
honestly I couldn't tell because the whole thing was covered with papers, and
it IS a government office, so hell it could have been that way. She glanced
over at me and then the clerk, and blew him a little kiss.

He looked like he had been slapped, and scurried around the desk, his body
visibly shaking.

"M-m-maam, we are very sorry for any inconvenience, and hope you don't look on
our service unfavorably," he blurted out.

Billie rose up out of her chair, and I thought the man was going to pass out.
She went around to where he stood, and gave him a big hug, making sure to
press her huge breasts up against his body.

"Honey, I think your service was just fine, and I'm glad you were able to help
us on such short notice." She said, and gave him a little peck on the cheek.

She then turned toward me, retrieved her top and put it back on, fluffing out
her hair once it was in place. She then took me by the arm and we walked out
of the building, passports in hand.

We got out of the building, and both burst out laughing.

"Okay, SHARE!" I said, looking at her at we walked toward the parking garage
with our car.

"Well, he looked at me with the smug look, expecting me to come over and undo
his fly or something, so I stood up and stretched out, and pushed my boobs out
for him to see. I put my hands down on the edge of his desk and gave him a
nice look down my shirt, then I told him there were two ways we could do it
... nice and easy, or hard." She said, giving my arm a little squeeze.

"He said he wanted it hard, so I said you got it, and picked up his desk by
the edge, about two feet off the ground, and tilted it so all the stuff slid
off the edge onto his lap. He had the most shocked look! I set it down and
took off my shirt to show him how deep he was in it, and then picked his desk
back up and held it over my head." She laughed.

"Well, I heard him exclaim a couple of times ... " I'm sure one was when you
took off your shirt, but what was the other one?" I asked, as we walking into
the parking garage.

"Oh, yeah ... well I took my shirt off and he said, 'oh my God', which made me
laugh a little, but what really set him off was when I picked his desk up over
my head and pulled it apart when I had it way up there. I thought his eyes
were going to bug right out of his head," she said, and gave a big laugh.

"I would love to have seen that. That big wooden desk must have weighed about
500 pounds. Did you have any trouble?" I asked, knowing the answer.

She laughed. "Honey, that's only about double what you weigh. I could have
picked it up with one hand ... but I don't think I could have split it down
the middle like that. I think he got the picture. He was really sweet after
that. I made a big show of setting it down slowly, but then I dropped it the
last four inches and he about jumped out of his skin!"

"Can I get a replay when we get home?" I asked.

"You bet, baby. What do you want me to pick up, your computer desk? That
flimsy little thing probably only weighs 200 pounds." She said.

"Maybe you can pick it up with me on it, and show me what you did," I said, my
pants growing tight.

"Only if you're a good boy," she said, and slid her hand down to the newly
visible bulge.

***************

We made our way to the airport in a small limo, Billie sparing no expense, the
kids, Billie and I anxiously awaiting our flight. Our trip through check-in of
our bags and ticketing was uneventful. I got my bags and handed them off for
check-in, as did the kids. Billie had a ton of bags, as a lot of women do, and
muscled them all to the checked bags area, lifting them all with ease, to the
surprise to the person checking us in. Billie tended to travel in cognito,
disguising her incredible figure in loose-fitting or dark-colored clothing to
not bring attention to herself. Today, she was in a loose-fitting sundress,
with a bolero-type top covering her big arms and chest. The sundress fell down
over her thighs, but her big calves were visible, and she got some looks for
them, but nothing too overt. She never had a problem with people looking
anyway, and neither did I. It was the comments that bothered us.

We went through the gate with no trouble and had some time to kill before
boarding our flight to Los Angeles for our connecting to Guam. We let the kids
roam through the shops, picking out some interesting items to while the time
away. I found a Wired magazine I hadn't read, and Billie found a (wait for it)
Muscle and Fitness. She leafed through at the news stand, chuckling a little
when she saw people who weren't clients bragging about their incredible
regimens.

While we were waiting for our flight, Billie bumped into a potential client. I
got that his name was Hassan and was really eager to begin working with Billie
since the Arnold Classic was coming up and she wanted to get some of Billie's
input of his training. Billie introduced me and told me Hassan was a
competitive bodybuilder. I definitely saw that. The other thing I saw was his
arms were not as big or defined as Billie's, and that overall, she was more
built than this guy, and he was definitely in the heavyweight or super
heavyweight division from his size. He was a little shorter, but much more
massive. I'm sure he had 50 pounds on me. He and Billie were probably close to
the same weight, but I had no doubt who was stronger.

Anyway, we boarded our plane and had a nice trip to LA. LAX is a shitty
airport, so I was glad we only had a short layover, but damn was that trip to
Palua long! We had to fly to Tokyo, then had an overnight layover. That was
fun, because we had never been to Japan. The Japanese are an interesting
culture, and we felt like giants roaming around, Billie at her 5'6" was pretty
normal height, but my 5'10" had me towering over most people, with the
exception of the tourists we saw. Billie of course got a ton of looks for her
build and her big breasts (the Japanese are breast obsessed, I think). We ate
really great sushi and the kids had steaks, which cost a fortune.

We finally got our flight from Tokyo and had a nice eight hour flight Guam.
From there it was a five hour flight to Palau.

Thank God we flew first class, with the nice big seats and legroom. The kids
of course got bored on every flight, despite iPods and laptops and movies.
They were well-behaved for the most part, so the whole trip was pretty
uneventful, even enjoyable.

We of course behaved like soon-to-be newlyweds, all cuddly and mushy. We got
congratulations from all of the flight attendants and concierges, and were
having a great time, flirting, holding hands and being in love.

My folks got in to Palau on the next flight from ours, and great folks they
were, took the kids off our hands so we could be a couple for a while. We
actually got to see some sights without any family or friends' interruption,
and set off on our little South Pacific Island adventure.

Palau is an archipelago surrounded by the Pacific. It's mostly white sandy
beaches, but it is all rainforest in the interior, and some parts are actually
rocky. We went prowling about the island we were on, running on the beach,
walking through the forest, even doing a little climbing on the rocky
outcroppings near our resort. It was bliss.

That night we had our wedding rehearsal and dinner and it was fantastic.
Billie was spoiled rotten by her family, since she finally got a "good" man.
My family was fine as well, but they all that "been there, done that" attitude
going on that made me want to leave them in the US instead of flying them to
the other side of the world.

The evening, though, was what I enjoyed the most.

We barely got in the door, when Billie grabbed me from behind and pulled me
hard into her, so I bounced off her super chiseled body. I started stumbling
forward only to be caught by her strong hands under my arms as she lifted me a
couple of inches off the ground, kissing my neck and slowly working down my
back as her strong arms inched my body slowly upward. I felt her huge breasts
slide down my back and squeeze against my ass as I accended. I quickly reached
over and flicked off the light switch, as the big, palm-frond ceiling fan was
right over my head.

Billie laughed, us now in the dark, with only the full moon, as huge a moon as
could ever be seen on planet Earth, shining through the huge panel of glass
that was the wall facing the ocean.

"Hey, lover ... did you think I was going to pick you up so the fan could chop
your head off?" she laughed loudly, dropping me back down to the floor and
turning me around, pulling me tightly into her embrace, her big arms wrapping
around my body. I was always amazed that her massive muscular frame made mine
feel tiny, even though I was four inches taller. When she wore heels it was
readily apparent, but only when we were in a intimate embrace did I truly feel
dwarfed by her body when she wasn't in heels.

"I know better, but safety first, right?" I joked, kissing her hard on the
mouth, my tongue probing into her mouth, meeting her own.

"You never struck me as a 'play it safe' kind of guy, John ... I mean you did
stick around after you realized it was me when we first met," she said, a
little teary-eyed all of a sudden.

"Oh, honey ... you know, they way things worked out way back when we first
were engaged feels like another lifetime to me. It was just such a bad
situation, I don't resent anything you did then. It hurt then, but you have
more than made up for any silly indiscretion, and I had second thoughts the
entire time we were apart." I said, looking her in the eye.

I think the reality of the situation was finally hitting her, and now that we
were less than 24 hours away from our wedding started making her reminisce
through all of the events in our lives. She put her head against my shoulder,
suddenly seeming the weaker of us, and I held her tight. She reminded me she
was not the weaker by any means a second later when she tightened her hug
unconsciously, and my breathing became constricted.

I knew she wasn't intending any harm, but when you are so much stronger, it's
tough to gauge, and she really seemed like she needed this, so I held her,
slowly fading into unconsciousness. I figured if I slumped over, she'd
realize, but it didn't take that long.

"Oh, honey, I love you so much. I just realized how tightly I was holding you,
and you didn't say a word. You didn't even flinch. You are the strongest man I
have ever known, and I can't believe how lucky I am to get this second chance.
I swear to you that I will never hurt you again like I did then." She said,
tears full-on streaming down her face, as she lay gently against me.

It kind of killed the mood, I thought, but life can't be just about sex,
right? What kind of relationship would that be?

I held her head in my arms, feeling that awe-inspiring body against me, a body
that she discovered in her loss of me ... a body that was inadvertently my own
creation. I felt a little surge of pride in the fact she would not have
discovered her full potential without me, but sad at the same time that our
cruel parting is what it took.

She raised her face up to look in my eyes, and smiled a happy smile. She
kissed me again on the lips, and my hands slid down from her head to rest
against her big shoulders, pulling her tightly into me.

I think the thing I found most erotic about our physical dynamic was that,
despite the immense strength she possessed, Billie was surprisingly compliant.
She wasn't some sort of musclebound monster, out to prove how much stronger
she was ... she really didn't have to. It was so implicit in the things she
did, there wasn't a need to crush me, or beat me down, anything like that. It
was a pairing of equals as a couple, and when I wanted her to move a certain
way or hold me in a way I found sexually exciting, she was only too happy to
comply.

Likewise I always tried to give her what she wanted, most of the time
succeeding. I was never really able to accomplish the incredible lifting feats
she could, but I could lift her up when I wanted, and even got strong enough
that I could hold her high in my arms, albeit briefly, but what she seemed to
like most was being able to rest against me, curling her head into my shoulder
or neck.

We made our way to the bed and made gentle, passionate love. It wasn't extreme
or intense, just comfortable and cozy ... almost like settling in for a long
nap in the winter, comfortable and warm ... like slipping on an old,
comfortable shirt and enjoying the sensation of being with something so
familiar ... so good-fitting.

Of course, Billie being Billie, she couldn't help using her incredible
strength at times. At one point when we wanted to switch up positions, with me
on her missionary-style, she simply lifted me off her, hands on my hips, then
got up herself. It was unconscious now, her limitless strength, and it was as
familiar now as her laugh or the light she got in her eyes when she was
excited about something.

She turned her back to me, lying down onto her belly, and I mounted her again,
my cock sliding deep into her from behind. Her legs slowly slid up from her
supine position, and my body slid upward as a result, my legs against hers as
they contracted, her hips rising ever so slowly off the bed. She worked her
body up and down this way, extremely slowly, the motion sliding my penis into
her with an almost excruciatingly slow rhythm, until I was buried in her to
the hilt. Then she would reverse, smoothly sliding back down, and I would
slide oh so slowly back out, until just the tip rested against her labia.

We stayed like this for what seemed like hours, she moans rising as the almost
tantric rhythm built in intensity, like a rising cyclone. I somehow felt it
was appropriate for the setting, considering where we were, even though the
last cyclone to actually make landfall in Palau was in 1932.

I slid my hands up and down her back, feeling the grouped muscles that danced
across her skin like summer lightning in the clouds, my hands working over
each ridge and slope, every little valley and boundary from one incredible
muscle to the next. They rubbed and massaged her as she continued her slow
ascent and decline, my own moans of ecstasy mixing with Billie's, the moon
casting it's light through the huge window on us both, bathing the room in a
pale blue glow.

My hands found their way around the sides of her body, working over the huge
latissimus dorsi, sliding slowly over her massive breasts, until my body lay
upon her own, my arms straining to reach over her deep, deep chest, until I
reached her fully engorged nipples. I took one in each hand, gently pinching
and rolling them in my fingers, and I felt her entire back tense, the muscles
rising off her like mountains growing against my skin, actually lifting my
entire body higher an inch or so. God, the power of this woman, I thought, as
I caressed her big nipples further, letting her control the pace of our sex,
her body beginning a faster pace, but still very slow.

As the pace quickened, so did the sensation, building like a rising storm, its
fury still distant, but the entire atmosphere charged and heavy with the
anticipation. My hands on her breasts kneaded into their huge forms with that
rising intensity, and my mouth descended upon her neck to kiss her, biting her
in between kisses on her shoulders and neck.

Her moans rose further, as did the pace, and her body now slid up and down the
bed with greater speed, her huge thighs pulsing with the untapped power of a
dozen of my body or more. My body slid up and down hers faster, the sweat of
our passion now making the friction less harsh, the motion more fluid.

We moved like a well-lubricated machine, her body the motor, mine the
resistance, and we kept that climbing pace for hours, the passion rising now
like a storm that had now landed ashore, its full potential yet to come. Her
body pistoned up and down on the bed, taking me with it, hands pushed deeply
into those big firm breasts, pinching the nipples harder now, sliding them
quicker between my fingertips, their huge masses completely engulfing hands.
They seemed tiny by comparison to the breasts that were larger than my head.

Her ass began tightening at the apex of her lift, clenching against my cock as
it fully penetrated her, tightening erotically against my member, then
releasing as she descended again. This added to the intensity, and the storm
rose again in power, its true fury beginning to reveal itself.

I began thrusting strongly against her at the apex as well, burying myself
deeper than I thought possible into her sopping wet pussy, the incredible
tightness threatening to build to frightening levels. It kept clenched even
during the withdrawal now, gripping me in its powerful embrace.

I marveled at her limitless strength and stamina, at how this constant motion,
even as it has built over all this time, appears to have barely sapped her
reserved in the slightest. She lay with her head on the bed, arms resting to
the side, a serene smile on her face, eyes closed, almost as if she was having
a wonderful dream. Her body, though, kept rising in the passion of its motion,
lifting my hips effortlessly against her own, my body molded over hers,
feeling every incredible muscle tighten and rise against me.

Our pace now reached the power of the waves crashing against the shore, and I
could almost hear the sound of thunder in my ears as I rose and fell faster,
building the strength of the storm to be unleashed at any moment. Her body
rose and fell still faster, my attention to her breasts rose with it, and I
was now gripping her huge breasts in my hands hard, fingers digging into that
supple flesh with a strong grip, kneading it in my fingers, sinking so deeply
into that flesh that my hands almost seemed to disappear, her moans the only
sign that she wasn't asleep.

Her smile widened and she stepped up the pace still further, now rising and
falling quickly, my body lifted and dropped in time. My grip now went from
fondling to holding on, as her pace began to overwhelm my ability to keep
tightly against her. My legs went from relaxes to gripping her hips,
stretching out to encompass those big full hips and gigantic thighs.

My body was now fully supported on her back, yet the pace only increased in
its speed and intensity, and now her moans were loud and frequent as her
motions. She began almost bucking against me, and my muscles strained to
maintain their mount as her true power began to manifest, rocking her body up
so quickly now that the satiny sheets of the bed were barely able to slide
against each other, the limits of their slickness met and exceeded.

The bed was now starting to come apart, and I heard the tearing of the fitted
sheet as it ripped from the now rapid contraction and relaxation of her body
as it continued to rise and fall ever faster, the sheets now sliding with
Billie's crunches, my body bouncing up off her despite my strong grip on her
hips with my legs.

Her intensity now was off the scale, and her moans were one long constant cry
as her face now showed the titanic orgasm the was near its crescendo, my own
following apace. She kept up the jackhammer pace until finally, finally she
let out a piercing cry and held at her apex, me buried crushingly deeply into
her tight, drenched slit. She trembled in the throes of the most massive
orgasm I had ever given her, and I responded in kind with my own yell as I
fired wave after wave of my seed into her, perched high atop her muscular ass,
legs dangling from her own, hands buried in her huge breasts, head pressed
tightly into that densely muscled back, holding tight to her with all my
failing strength.

We stayed like that for minutes, reveling in the orgasm, riding it to its
conclusion, then, with a big sigh, she slowly drifted back down to the bed,
her body sliding to its full length, my own draped over her like a blanket,
toes extending beyond her own.

She opened her one eye that I could see as her head rested on its side and
looked at me.

"John, you are the love of my life," she said, softly, her eye a step from
dreaming.

"And you are mine," I replied, resting my head against hers, my lips finding
purchase on the side of her mouth.

My deflating member was still buried deep between the cleft of Billie's
beautiful ass, having slipped from its warm sheath, and she massaged it with
her ass, her muscles raising my hips with their contraction. I shuddered at
the sensation, my still sensitive penis reveling in the feeling, and her
sleepy smile widened as she flexed up her back muscles, my body rising with
their inflation.

"God, that was so GOOD," she breathed, and I slid off her wide back to lie at
her side, and she turned into me, her full breasts pressing against my chest.
I held her in my arms, and she wrapped her own around me, steely sinews
tightening.

"It was life-changing," I said in response, my arms tightening on her, barely
denting that super powerful body. I leaned in and her lips met mine, and we
shared our last kiss before drifting off to sleep, the moon bathing us in its
cool glow.