Anastasia, Part One
By Sonofjack, sonojackwell@gmail.com
When Bart responded to that online ad to meet beautiful women from Eastern Europe, he got more than he bargained for - a lot more!


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This is my latest story. I hope that you like it. It is adult material and
should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen.

If you like my writing style, I also write custom stories on commission. I can
turn your story ideas into actual stories if you like. To commission a story,
email me at sonofjackwell@gmail.com.

Even if you don't wish to commission a story, I'm always open to comments on
my stories. Send your comments to sonofjackwell@gmail.com

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As Bart sat starring at his computer screen at the beautiful smiling face and
the sturdy but very sexy, feminine body that was looking back at him, he began
to have second thoughts. When he originally responded to the computer ad that
read "Meet beautiful single women from Eastern Europe" he clicked "OKAY" on a
whim. The ad promised to "hook up American men with beautiful women from
Russia, Ukraine, Belarus and the other countries of Eastern Europe." As he
replied to the few questions regarding his preferences when it came to female
companionship he considered it a goof. Ten minutes after answering the
questions, he pretty much forgot all about it. He had no real intention of
following up on any of this.

The night he'd responded to that ad, he's had three glasses of wine which was
two more than he usually drank. He was also thinking that night of his failed
marriage. The divorce had been final for just over eighteen months, but Bart
still felt the sting of rejection like it was only yesterday. Plus, when he
saw that ad on his computer the words of his late mother began to echo in his
ear.

"Find yourself a nice Eastern European girl," she always told him. His mother
was originally from the former Soviet Union Republic of Belarus. She escaped
the Soviet Union a few years before it fell and made her way to the United
States. That's where she met and married his father.

"Eastern Europe women are strong," his mother often told him, "And they know
how to love a man." She also told him, "Eastern European women are loyal, and
they always keep their men warm at night." She must have been on to something
because whenever she said these things, Bart noticed that his father just sat
there with a huge satisfied smile.

Despite the words of his mother, Bart didn't really think he'd find his soul
mate by answering a computer ad. However, when a message appeared in his email
in box a few days later, he couldn't help being curious. "This is probably a
malware scam," he told himself, "How could I have been so stupid as to give
them my real email address?" But then he thought, "What the hell? My computer
is loaded with the best anti-malware protection that money can buy. I might as
well put it to the test."

He decided to give the message a look-see. Now he was looking at an image of a
beautiful young woman wearing traditional Eastern European garb. She had an
open, beautiful face with the warmest blue eyes Bart had ever seen. Her body
was best described as "big boned" which is to say that she could not fairly be
called fat, but she was not petite either. That was fine with Bart. He never
liked petite women anyway.

She had honey blonde hair done up with a single thick braid off the one side
as well as broad shoulders and more than ample breasts. One look at that
picture, and Bart was definitely tempted to email her back. "Maybe Mom was
right," he thought.

Bart's mother was the second strongest woman he'd ever known. She wasn't just
strong willed although she certainly was that. She was physically strong as
well. It's not like she possessed superhuman strength, but whenever Bart's
parents had to settle any kind of disagreement, his mother would challenge his
father to an arm wrestling contest. It didn't happen that often, but when it
did happen, Bart's mother always won. Always.

That was understandable since his father was only 5'6" tall and barely weighed
135 pounds. This meant that his mother was four inches taller and outweighed
her husband by about ten pounds. If this bothered his father, Bart never heard
him complain about it. His father didn't even seem to mind losing all those
arm wrestling matches over the years. Bart's father was the most easygoing man
he'd ever met. Besides, Bart was convinced that his father rather enjoyed
being married to a woman who was physically stronger than he was. Bart could
relate to that.

Bart's parents got along better than any married couple he knew. Together they
made a decent living. They loved each other and their only child, and they
were very contented with life. That's all Bart really wanted out of life""what
his mother and father had.

The decent living part was already taken care of. At age 26""Bart was born
December 26, 1991, the day the Soviet Union collapsed""he was financially set
for life. Bart developed a phone app when he was twenty-two that.... Well, it
really isn't that important what it did. Let's just say that it caught on and
a year later he sold it to a big company that paid him very well upfront and
continues to pay him royalties. Bart isn't filthy, buy-your-own-private-island
rich, but he is a millionaire. He's actually kind of embarrassed to be so well
off for contributing something so trivial to the world.

But the good thing about being independently wealthy at such a young age is
that Bart was free to concentrate on finding the right woman. So far his
search that search hadn't gone so well. He thought he found the woman of his
dreams when he married his now ex-wife. She turned out to more of a nightmare.

Even before meeting his ex-wife, Bart's taste in women was somewhat
unorthodox. Because of the relationship between his parents, Bart was always
attracted to women that were bigger and stronger than he was. Women like that
were not always easy to find since, unlike his father, Bart was 5'11" tall and
weighed in at a healthy 165 pounds. He was no star athlete, but he did
exercise, and he was in reasonably good shape.

Bart's first girlfriend was when he was thirteen years old. Puberty hadn't
quite kicked in for him yet so he was short for his age. On the other hand,
puberty had been kind to his girlfriend at the time. Her name was Emily
Hudsucker, and even though they were the same age, Emily had the body of a
sexy full-grown woman. When they were both standing up, Bart had to stand on
his tippy toes to kiss her. Some of their classmates made fun of the height
difference between them, but Bart loved it. When they got to high school,
Emily dumped him for an 11th grader.

Once puberty hit Bart, he had a hard time finding girls who were taller and
stronger than he was so he didn't date much in high school. However, things
began to look up (pun intended) when he got to college. He met a beautiful,
tall and strong black woman named Tyshae McDaniel who happened to be the star
of the university's women's basketball team.

She was 6'4" with a fine ass, big muscles and big tits. They carried on a
passionate three year love affair. Bart loved his mighty African goddess, and
Tyshae loved her subservient white boy.

The only thing that Bart loved more than watching Tyshae lift weights was
watching her big tits bounce as she straddled him and rode him like a saddle
pony. Tyshae always insisted on taking the dominant top position when they
fucked (which was often), and Bart enjoyed the view from below much too much
to complain.

When Bart's parents died in a car accident during his final year of college,
it was Tyshae who was there to comfort him. He got the phone call about his
parents while he and Ty were in bed together making love. He spent the next
four hours sitting on her lap and sobbing at his great loss.

After graduation, Tyshae became a WNBA star and she and Bart drifted apart.
Meanwhile, less than a month after his 22nd birthday Bart developed the phone
app that made him a millionaire. He was suddenly, young, boyishly handsome and
rich. He no longer had any trouble finding women who wanted to be with him.

That's when he met his ex-wife, Stella. Stella was 6'2", beautiful and lean
except for her very large breasts and muscles. She was a competitive
fitness/bikini model who routinely won every competition she entered. It was
easy to see why at just a glance. Stella had it all""a beautiful face with
full, pouty lips, a muscular, hard body, ripped abs, long, shapely legs, full,
round, large natural breasts and an ass that looked like a perfect peach half.
It wasn't quite accurate to say that she was Bart's ultimate fantasy girl
because he never even fanaticized he'd meet a girl so sexy and beautiful.

He couldn't even remember exactly how they met. It was as if she simply
appeared in his life when he became rich. And once Stella was in his life, she
quickly took over. Looking back, Bart believed that if his parents had been
alive""especially his mother""she would have been able to make him see that
Stella was not the right woman for him. She had sex appeal to spare and she
knew how to use it to get what she wanted from Bart. But she didn't feel any
of the tenderness that Tyshae had felt towards him. Bart could look back now
and see that Stella never really loved him.

But at the time, Bart was so captivated by Stella's strong, dominant nature
that less than two months after they met, Stella told Bart that they were
going to be married, and Bart readily agreed. Looking back, he wonders now if
he even had a choice.

Bart was so intoxicated by Stella's dominant and confident manner. When he
told her that she was beautiful and sexy, Stella's usual response was "I know
it." And he loved the way that she flaunted her superior strength. Even before
they were married, she often required him to get down on his knees and beg for
sex. This was okay with Bart though. He enjoyed this kind of role playing. At
least he thought it was role playing.

The big problems came after they were married. He was required to wait on
Stella hand and foot. Also, she stopped working completely and began to spend
money as fast as it came in. And even though she made Bart grovel and beg to
have sex with her, she usually turned him down anyway.

This is a typical evening just months after they were married.

Bart was just finishing up a task in Stella's bedroom when she walked in. "Hi,
honey, what have you been doing all say?" Bart asked.

"Shopping," was Stella's curt reply. "What are you doing in here? I told you
to stay out of my bedroom unless I gave you permission to enter."

"I ... I was just taking some measurements to see about expanding your walk-in
closet for you like you asked me to do," he lied. Changing the subject he
asked, "Did you find anything nice to buy?"

Stella looked at him skeptically and said, "I brought some new lingerie, but
I'm already bored with it. I might as well throw it away."

Bart became excited. "Is there any chance I could get you to model it for me?"
he asked.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said in a voice that could not sound more
disinterested.

"Of course I would," Bart replied, "What man wouldn't want to see you dressed
in sexy lingerie."

One side of Stella's lush lips curled in a tight smile. "That's true. I am
very sexy," she agreed. She thought about it for a few seconds and said,
"Okay, wait here while I go put some of it on." Bart began to follow his wife
into her closet/changing room. She turned sharply and asked, "Where do you
think you're going. I told you to wait here."

"I just thought I'd watch you change," Bart said cheerfully.

"Nice try," said Stella. "Do as you're told, or I'll send you to your room."

Bart bowed his head. "Yes, dear." He sat on the bed and waited just as
instucted.

A few minutes later Stella returned wearing a lacey bra and thong panties
combination. Bart got instantly hard. He started to stand up. "Who said you
could get up?" Stella asked.

"Uh ... no one," Bart admitted. "C-can I get up?" he asked timidly.

"Get on your knees," his beautiful, muscular wife commanded. Bart did as he
was instructed.

"I suppose you'd like to fuck me now," Stella said.

"Is it so strange that a man would like to make love to his wife?" Bart asked.

"'Make love'? You want to FUCK me. Just say it."

"Okay ... . I'd like to fuck you," Bart agreed. "Is that so strange?" he
repeated.

"Not when your wife looks as hot as I do," Stella agreed. She gave her body a
little shimmy to emphasize her hotness. She was driving him crazy with desire.
She loved frustrating him like this, and they both knew it.

"So ... ?" Bart pleaded.

"Crawl over to me on your hands and knees and beg me to fuck you." Stella
instructed.

Bart crawled over and begged, "Please, Stella, please, fuck me."

"Why should I?" she asked.

"B-because you're my wife," Bart replied, "Don't you want to make love with
me? Don't you love me?"

Stella ignored his questions. "I understand why you want to fuck me so badly.
I'm the sexiest woman you've ever seen. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Stella, of course," Bart replied.

"Tell me, what is it about me you find so desirable?"

"Y-your beautiful face, your sexy body"""

"Be more specific," Stella demanded.

"I love you long, sexy legs and your big, round firm tits and your round, firm
ass," Bart began.

"But what is it about me that makes me really special?" she asked.

"Your muscles," Bart replied. He knew what she wanted to hear. "It's your
beautiful, big, feminine muscles that make you so special."

She turned her back to him. "That's right. Look at that ass," she said as she
stuck it right in his face. "Have you ever seen a more perfect ass than that?"

The truth was, Tyshae's ass was just a spectacular, but he wasn't about to
tell his wife that. "No," he lied.

"Maybe you'd like to kiss that ass," she suggested.

"Please, can I? Can I please kiss your perfect ass?"

Doing her best to sound like she could not care less she replied, "I guess
so." Bart gratefully covered his wife's ass with kisses and licks and even a
few light nibbles. After a few minutes of this, Stella announced, "That's
enough!" as she walked away.

"But ... but, Stella," Bart protested.

"You bore me," Stella said, "Get out of my room now."

"But, Honey, that's not fair," Bart whined.

"I don't care what you think is fair. Get out of my room. NOW!"

"W-what if I refuse?"

Stella laughed at that. "Refuse? If you refuse to do what I tell you to do,
I'll beat the shit out of you. You know I can, and you better believe that I
will." Bart wasn't really sure whether his wife could beat him up of not. He
knew that she was stronger than him, but he didn't know for sure if she could
beat him up. He suspected it, however, and besides, he couldn't imagine
actually fighting back. Defeated, he went to his room and masturbated.

What Stella didn't know was that Bart had secretly set up a hidden camera in
Stella's room that operated by remote control. He pushed a button in his
pocket to activate it. He'd recorded that entire encounter. The really twisted
part was that after retrieving the recorded disk later, Bart would go back and
watch that scene many times while he jerked off to it. Stella just looked so
fucking hot in her bra and thong panties that he couldn't help be turned on
despite the way she humiliated him. In fact, he was even more turned on
BECAUSE she humiliated him.

After that, Stella stopped having sex with her husband altogether. The best
she would do is sometimes she would let him masturbate while she posed sexily
in front of him in lacey lingerie or skimpy bikinis. She obviously didn't care
about his feeling at all, but it still pleased her vanity to know that he
desired her. Besides, reminding her husband just how strong and sexy her body
was made it easier for her to control him.

Before long, things grew even worse between Bart and Stella. Stella began to
throw frequent parties at the house. Bart could not stand most of Stella's
friends, and he was not allowed to invite his own. Stella's friends were a
bunch of shallow, moronic jerks whose only topic of conversation seemed to be
what was going on with the Kardashians or whatever other idiotic reality TV
show was popular that week.

It was at these parties that things really began to turn ugly. Stella began to
openly make fun of Bart in front of her friends. She told them how pathetic he
was and how he was willing to get on his knees and beg her for sex. She told
them how she refused him and only allowed him to masturbate to her sexy body.
He told her friends all this just to amuse them.

As if that wasn't bad enough, she began to openly flirt with other men right
in front of her husband. If the other men became uncomfortable, she would tell
them, "Don't worry; my husband won't do anything. He knows who's boss around
here. Isn't that right, "honey"?" If Bart didn't respond quickly enough to
suit her, she would get in his face and repeat, "Isn't that right?"

Bart would bow his head an reply, "Yes, Stella." He wished he could stand up
to her, but he was legitimately afraid of her. Besides, despite (because of?)
all of the torture and humiliation she put him through, he still loved his
wife.

Then, one night, it happened. Stella was flirting very heavily with this tall,
handsome jock type. He was taller than Stella and had bigger muscles. She was
hanging on his arm and laughing at every idiotic thing he said. When Bart
passed close by, Stella told him, "This is my husband Bart; Bart, this is what
a real man looks like." The man looked at Bart and smiled arrogantly.

A little while later, Stella announced, "The party's over. Everybody go home
now. I'm going to fuck my new boyfriend." All of her other idiot friends
thought this was hilarious, and they all cleared out like she told them to do.

When it was just the three of them left""Bart, Stella and other man""Bart
said, "Okay, Honey, your little joke had gone far enough."

"What joke?" she asked. "I fully intend let him fuck me. In fact, why don't
you watch him fuck me? You might learn something about how a real man fucks a
woman. Besides, you'd probably enjoy watching a big stud like him fuck your
wife wouldn't you?"

"No, Stella, I don't think so," Bart replied. He turned around and started to
walk away. When his back was turned, Stella grabbed his arm and twisted it
behind his back. "Not so fast," she said. "I want you to watch him fuck me."

The other man chuckled his approval and said, "Alright!"

Bart had no doubt that Stella would break his arm if he did comply. So he went
to his wife's bedroom with them and watched another man fuck his wife. After
they fucked the first time, Stella took her lover's dick in her hand and said,
"Look at that dick!" She turned to her husband and said, "This is what a real
dick looks like." Then she proceeded to suck the other man's hard
cock""something that she'd never done for her husband. After round three, Bart
was finally allowed to leave,

Despite Stella's prediction, Bart did not enjoy watching another man have sex
with his wife. In fact, it made him sick to his stomach. He went to his room,
closed the door and began to cry. Eventually, he fell into a restless sleep.

That night, his beloved mother came to him in a dream. "She's not the right
woman for you," she told him. Though Bart made a half-hearted attempt to
defend Stella to his spectral matriarch, he failed miserably, and he knew it.
Before she left her son and this mortal realm, Bart's mother repeated her oft
given advise, "Fiind yourseeelf a niiice Eastern Europeaan giiiiiirl."

When Stella returned home from next day's shopping spree, Bart informed her
that he'd hired a lawyer and was seeking a divorce.

"You're divorcing me?" she asked. The bitch had the chutzpah to sound shocked
at the prospect. Perhaps she really was surprised. After warning Bart that she
would take him for everything he was worth, she did what she threatened to do
many times. She beat the shit out of him. Unlike as he had imagined it, Bart
did try to fight back, but not only was his wife stronger than him, she turned
out to be a much better fighter. He did stand a chance.

Stella did indeed take her husband for most of what he was worth. Fortunately
for him, however, Stella was shortsighted enough to trade an immediate cash
payout in favor of possible future earnings. In other words, she agreed to
forgo any claims on any future royalties for the app that Bart invented (which
he invented BEFORE they were married) in favor of four-fifths of his assets at
the time of their divorce.

It didn't matter much to Bart. He moved into a small house and waited for
royalties that were still rolling in to accumulate while he lived a modest
life. Within a year he was a millionaire again. Unfortunately, he still
couldn't completely get over the memory of his ex-wife. He still occasionally
watched the disk of the night she made him kiss her ass and refused him sex
and jerked off to it. He still thought about her frequently. Worst of all,
since they'd been divorced, Stella had come to him twice for money.

As insane as it sounded, his ex-wife still had some kind of spell on him that
he could not quite shake. She'd come around and through a combination of
seduction and the threat of physical punishment, she would leave with a check
for a large sum of money.

Now, tonight, as Bart looked at his computer screen at the image of the
beautiful, fresh faced, earthy young woman from Eastern Europe, for the first
time, he thought that he might be able to get over Stella. "But that's crazy,"
he told himself, "For all I know, some fat guy living in Florida sent me this
picture." He started to delete the email, but decided to sleep on it instead.

That night, once again his beloved mother came to him in a dream. "Why don't
you give that nice girl who sent you the picture on your computer a chance,"
she urged her son.

"But, Momma," he argued, "I don't know anything about her."

"So email her back and find out about her," she countered. "I have a good
feeling about her."

"I don't know, Momma ... ."

"Bartek (which was his full first name) do what your mother tells you to do!"

"Yes, Momma."

The next morning right after breakfast, Bart took another look at the pretty
young woman in the email. Her name was Anastasia. "Pretty name," Bart thought.
She was twenty-two and from a country called Amazslovia. "Hmmmm ... never
heard of it." Bart whispered.

He immediately began searching on his computer for information about the
country Amazslovia and was surprised that in this information age, he found
almost nothing. It was a tiny microstate located right at the place where
Belarus, Latvia and Lithuania came together. According to Wikipedia Amazslovia
had been an independent, sovereign nation "for at least the last thousand
years".

"I wonder how they managed that," Bart wondered. He knew enough about world
geography to know that microstates as small as this usually remained
independent as a result of geographic isolation and/or because they were under
the protection of some more powerful country that they maintained close ties
with. While Amazslovia was indeed surrounded by mountains, it apparently did
not have very close ties with any of its surrounding neighbors. According to
Wikipedia, Amazslovia was something of a land of mystery.

It was roughly 500 square kilometers in area, slightly larger than the tiny
country of Andorra, but its population was estimated to be about one fourth of
Andorra's or about 22,000. Its chief exports were goat's milk and yellow
onions. They had little industry there and imported most of their tech
products.

"I wonder how they managed to remain independent during the soviet era." Bart
grew up to stories from his mother about the oppressive government of the
former Soviet Union. If Wikipedia knew the answer to this puzzle, it was
keeping it to itself.

The final line in the two paragraphs about Amazslovia intrigued Bart however.
"Amazslovia is known as a land of robust women."

Cautiously, Bart emailed Anastasia back. He told her a little about himself
(leaving out the part about him being a millionaire) and about life in
America. He told her that he thought she was very pretty. He did not include a
picture of himself nor exactly where he lived in that initial email.

Two days later, Anastasia emailed him back. She thanked him for returning her
email. She thanked him for saying that she was pretty. She told Bart a little
about life in Amazslovia. For example, she explained that she would have
returned his email right away but that she didn't have her own computer. She
had to email him using the community computer which she had to share with the
rest of the people in her village. Not only did she have to wait her turn, but
she had to walk just over eight kilometers from the farm where her family
lived to the village square where the village computer was kept.

This was the beginning of their online relationship (their E-romance?). Bart
asked Anastasia to email him more pictures if it wasn't too much trouble.
Anastasia replied that if wasn't too much trouble. She knew someone who owned
a digital camera that she could borrow who only lived twelve kilometers away.

When Bart opened his email a few days later, he was happily surprised that
Anastasia had sent him a picture of herself dressed in a bikini. As bikinis
went, it was not very revealing, but it was still a bikini. He was further
happily surprised that Anastasia's breasts were bigger then he thought and
that she also had some muscles. Her breasts were not as big as Stella's nor
were her muscles as defined. Still Anastasia was quite impressive.

Besides, Bart knew that it was unhealthy to keep comparing every woman to
Stella.

In her email, Stella explained that she had her friend use her camera to take
the picture of her. She asked that Bart never let her mother or father know
that she had sent him "such a shameless photograph." She even chastised
herself for being so forward.

Bart emailed her back and assured Anastasia that there was nothing wrong with
sending him a bikini photo. He asked her why she had sent it if she felt
embarrassed by it. She replied in her next email that she did it because she
wanted him to find her attractive and that she understood that American men
were used to women dressed in revealing clothes "like they dress on Baywatch."

Bart found Anastasia's modesty charming and refreshing. He really began to
open up to her after this. He assured her that she had succeeded in making him
think that she was very attractive. He told her that he thought she had a very
nice figure without going into any lurid detail. He also promised her that he
would never show her bikini photo to anyone else.

In addition, Bart emailed Anastasia three photos of himself. One was of his
smiling face. Another was of him standing by the front door of his house. The
third was on him in his swimming trunks. "It's only right that you see me
dressed the way they dress on Baywatch," he wrote.

Anastasia told him in her next email that she thought that he was very
handsome. She said that he had a very warm smile. She also wrote, "I had no
idea that you were so tall and virile." Bart suspected that he was trying to
flatter him, but whatever. It was working.

Bart and Anastasia emailed back and forth like this for several weeks. As they
continued writing, their words became more and more personal and intimate.
They revealed more details of their separate lives and more of their private
thoughts and dreams. Anastasia revealed that even though she loved her
homeland, that she longed to see more of the world. She wanted to travel and
experience more than her small village had to offer.

Bart wrote about how much he missed his parents and about his love for old
movies and great books. He even told Anastasia a little about his relationship
with his ex-wife. He didn't tell her too many of the embarrassing details, but
he did reveal that Stella had treated her disrespectfully and that she had
cheated on him. He even told her that his full name was Bartek.

Finally, Bart mailed Anastasia a prepaid satellite phone so that they could
talk to each other. Bart wanted to know what Anastasia's voice sounded like,
and the first time he heard it, he was completely enchanted. She sounded so
sweet with just the slightest hint of an Eastern European accent. "You speak
English very good." He told her.

"Excuse me, Bartek, I don't mean to criticize, but don't you mean that I speak
English very well?" Normally something like this might have put Bart off a
little, but the way Anastasia said it sounded so sweet. It also indicated to
Bart that she was very sharp and that she would challenge him. He liked that.

"Yes," he responded, "I think you're correct." That first conversation lasted
four hours. They talked about everything from the Earth to the sun and back
again. The one thing neither of them talked about, though they both felt it,
was that they were falling in love.

Finally, Anastasia said, "I'm sorry, Bartek, but I must go now. It is time to
milk the goats." With a promise to talk again soon, Anastasia was gone. Bart
was in heaven. He was certain that he was falling in love with this woman.
There was only one thing that bothered him. He knew that she was beautiful and
strong looking, but he didn't know how tall she was. None of the pictures she
had sent him contained the right kind of background for him to be able to
judge her height. He knew that it was superficial of him to place such
importance on this one detail, but he couldn't deny that it was important to
him.

One time he casually asked her in an email how tall she was. She wrote back,
"I'm the tallest woman in my village." When he asked her how tall that was she
wrote, "I am just over eight kushnecs tall. I hope that's not too tall for
you."

That didn't help Bart one bit. He had no idea how long a kushnec was. And even
though he tried for days, he could not find any feet to kushnec conversion
table on the internet. She was the tallest woman in her village, but for all
he knew, the women in Anastasia's village were the shortest in all Eurasia.

Still, the more Bart talked to her over the phone, the more he could feel
himself falling. Talking to her made him happier than he could remember being
since going out with Tyshae. After mulling it over, he decided that he didn't
care if she was taller than him or not. She was sweet and smart and fun to
talk to. She was beautiful with a very sexy figure, warm, inviting eyes and an
enchanting smile. Plus, she had a considerate disposition, an adventurous
nature and a winning personality.

That night, he fantasized about being with Anastasia. In his imagination she
was tall. She was taller than Stella. She was even taller than Tyshae. She was
at least 6'8" or 6'9" in his mind's eye. He dreamed that she loomed over him
with her big breasts swaying in his face as she straddled him the way Tyshae
used to do. Only, in his fantasy, Anastasia was bigger and stronger.

Yes, he was falling in love with this woman.

Still, it took him another two phone calls before he worked up the courage to
tell her that he thought he was in love with her. When he finally got it out
Anastasia said, "Oh, Bartek! That makes me so happy because I am already in
love with you."

"But we haven't even met me face-to-face. How can you know?"

"I knew by the time I read your second email" she replied. You westerners make
everything so complicated. But Amazslovian women know when they meet the man
that they should marry. They just know, and, Bartek, I've known that you were
the man I wanted to marry for quite some time."

"Why didn't you say anything like this before?"

"I sent you a picture of me in a bikini didn't I?" she asked. Then she added,
"Besides, it is not the place of the woman to tell the man. A woman should
wait for her man to say something first." Given his history with women, Bart
was not used to a woman that waited for the man to make the first move.

Anastasia went on, "It is a woman's place to do whatever she can to make her
man happy. Bartek, I hope that you will let me be the woman who makes you
happy."

"Uh ... well, sure. That sounds nice," Bart said. He didn't know quite what to
think. It occurred to Bart that she was acting demure and yet kind of
aggressive at the same time. He knew for sure though that he wanted to explore
this fascinating and beautiful woman further. He wanted to know her better. He
asked her, "Do you have a passport?"

"Yes," she replied, "I went and got one soon after your second email."

They quickly made arrangements for Anastasia to travel to America so that they
could finally meet face to face. Bart explained to Anastasia that this was not
a proposal of marriage. "I hope you understand that I think it's important for
us to get to know each other a little better in person before we make a
life-long commitment," he explained.

"Yes, Bartek, I will wait for you to make up your mind. I understand. You're
first wife decieved you so you are reluctant to marry again so quickly."

"Yes, that's it exactly," Bart said. He was convinced that Anastasia really
was as sweet and genuine as she sounded. He added patient and understanding to
her list of growing virtues. "Thank you so much for understanding."

"It is okay, Bartek, but I want you to understand that if you do ask me to
marry you, that is it. We will marry, and it will be forever. Once you ask me,
there will be no turning back."

"I ... I understand," Bart said. This was the first time he had ever heard
Anastasia say anything as forceful as this. It made him a little hard.

"There is one other thing you should know before I come to see you, Bartek,"
she said seriously.

"What?"

"I think that you deserve to know that ... I am not a virgin. There was a boy
in my village""a boy that I grew up with""named Perchik. We fell in love when
we were still teenagers. We planned to get married eventually, but first
Perchik won a scholarship to go to the university in Riga. The night before he
left, we made love. We convinced ourselves that it wasn't a sin because we
planned to marry anyway. I never saw Perchik again."

"What happened? Did he die in an accident?"

"No, the little bastard fell in love with some puny little slut from Latvia.
He never even had the courage to return and tell me to my face. So you see,
Bartek, you are not the only one who has been cheated on. And that's why I
say, once we decided to get married, there's no turning back."

"I understand," said Bart. This time he really meant it.

Of course, Bart offered to pay all of Anastasia's travel expenses. However,
she insisted on paying her own way to Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. "I
have money that I have saved up from selling my special goat cheese," she
assured him. "A woman that insists on paying her own way," Bart thought,
"That's a refreshing change."

Anastasia agreed to let Bart purchase her plane ticket from Vilnius to the
United States. Bart arranged for Anastasia to fly first class. He could hardly
believe how excited he was on the big day of her arrival. He got to the
airport an hour early. When the plane that Anastasia was on arrived, Bart went
to the gate to meet her. His heart was all a-flutter and his stomach was full
of butterflies.

As the first few first few first class passengers got off the plane he heard
one of them telling his wife who was there to meet him, "Wait until you see
this passenger who was in first class. You won't believe it." Bart turned to
question the man. If something was unusual about one of the other first class
passengers, he wanted to know what it was just in case Anastasia might be
upset about it.

While his back was turned, he heard a sweet voice behind him say, "Hello,
Bartek."

He turned around and gasped. The pictures she posted did not do her justice.
She was far more beautiful. She was wearing the same traditional clothing and
hairstyle she was wearing in the first picture she emailed him. Anastasia held
out her hand and said, "It's so nice to finally meet you in person." Bart put
his hand in hers only to practically lose it. Anastasia's hand was soft and
warm and almost half again as big as his.

That's when Bart realized that the conversion of feet to kushnecs was roughly
one to one. Anastasia was approximately 8'1" tall! Unlike many people who are
unusually tall, Anastasia was perfectly proportioned""just as she appeared to
be in her emailed pictures. She was a beautiful, perfectly proportioned, 8'1"
woman. And though it might have been shallow of him, the first thing that Bart
thought once he got over the initial shock was that Anastasia's breasts were
actually much bigger than Stella's. Hell, each one of them was bigger than his
head!

"Uh ... how was your flight?" he asked awkwardly.

"Very cramped most of the time," she said good naturedly.

"I ... I guess we better go get your luggage," Bart said.

"Bartek, I travelled thousands of miles to meet you. Don't I even get a hug?"
Anastasia asked.

"Oh ... sure," Bart replied. He WANTED to give her a hug. The problem is, he
didn't know quite how to go about it. His head barely reached her breasts.
Somehow, wrapping his arms around her sexy hips and snuggling his face into
her lower breast ... . While that was the fulfillment of one of his life-long
fantasies, it didn't seem quite appropriate in a crowded airport.

The solution was quickly taken out of his hands when Anastasia effortlessly
picked him up in her arms and pulled him into her body and kissed him tenderly
on the lips. The feeling of his body being pulled into her breasts was
extremely pleasing. Of the male bystanders who witnessed Anastasia hugging
Bart this way, 97.8 percent of them would have risked pissing off their wives
and girlfriends if it meant they could trade places with Bart. In fact, 74.85
percent would have gladly broken up with their wives and girlfriends in order
to trade places with him.

As they walked to the baggage claim area together, Bart's mind was racing.
Foremost in his thoughts was whether or not Anastasia's strength was
commensurate with her size. She certainly looked strong and healthy enough. He
soon got a hint when he saw a large trunk on the luggage conveyor belt.
Anastasia pointed at it and said, "There's my luggage."

Bart chivalrously said, "Let me get that for you." It was so big that he could
barely grab the handles at each end with his outstretched arms. When he tried
to lift it, it wouldn't budge. "What's in there?" he joked, "Bricks?"

Anastasia grabbed one of the handles on one end and said, "Don't be silly.
You're a man. You can't lift something that heavy. Here, let me." She didn't
say this in a way that sounded condescending. She said it like it was obvious
and natural that a woman should be stronger than a man. She easily lifted it
off the belt with one hand as if it was filled with feathers. "Where are we
going?" she asked sweetly.

Bart showed her the way to his car. If Anastasia had any trouble at all
carrying that heavy trunk through the parking lot, she did a great job of
covering it up. Bart was glad that he owned an H1 Hummer. After his parents
died in that car crash and he became a millionaire, Bart wanted a car that
would give him the best chance of walking away if he was ever in a crash. It
came in handy now because it was big enough to stow Anastasia's trunk. It was
almost even big enough for Anastasia.

Bart moved up the front passenger seat as far as possible and helped Anastasia
squeeze into the back seat. "Are you comfortable?" he asked suspiciously.

"I am comfortable enough," she answered. "Don't worry, I am used to it." The
ride home to Bart's house was mostly awkward silence.

When they got there, Bart was thankful once again that he had always preferred
high ceilings. Of course, Anastasia still had to duck to get through the front
door. "Please, have a seat," Bart said before realizing that what he
considered a big, comfy couch before was ridiculously undersized for the
Amazon goddess in his house. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked.

"Do you have onion juice?" she asked. When he told her that he didn't, she
said, "That's okay. I'll just have goat's milk." When he explained that he
didn't have that either, she settled for a glass of apple juice. Though Bart
filled the tallest glass he owned, it still looked ridiculously small in
Anastasia's big but lovely hand. Bart sat in a chair opposite her.

"So ... how was your trip?"

"You asked me that already," Anastasia said. She didn't seem annoyed, but she
did look a little worried. "Is there something wrong, Bartek?" she asked. Her
eyes were pools of concern.

"No," replied Bart, "I'm just happy to have you here."

"You don't seem very happy?" she observed.

"I'm sorry. Please, don't think that I'm not pleased to have you visit because
I am." He wasn't lying. "I guess that it's just that I'm a little ...
overwhelmed by you."

"It's because I'm too tall, isn't it?" she asked. Her eyes were beginning to
get moist. "I told you in my email that I was just over eight kushnecs," she
said.

"I didn't know how long a kushnec was," Bart explained.

Anastasia burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to deceive you. Living
in Amazslovia, made me forget that men from the outside world are not used to
such tall women."

Bart stood up. "Please, don't cry, Anastasia." Then her last statement sank
in. "Are ... are all the women in your country as tall as you?"

"No. I wrote to you that I was the tallest woman in my village," she said.
"Didn't you even read my emails?" Now she was beginning to sound slightly
annoyed.

"Of course I did," Bart answered, "It's just that I had no context for what
that meant at the time."

Anastasia explained, "Most of the women in Amazslovia are between seven and
eight kushnecs tall."

"Geez, the men must be enormous," Bart responded.

"On the contrary," Anastasia said, "Most of the men of Amazslovia are around
five kushnecs tall."

"So your old boyfriend Perchik was ... "

"Ha! Perchik was the smallest goat in the herd (an old Amazslovian
expression). He was only four-and-a-half kushnecs." Bart's imagination ran
wild with the possibilities.

"So that means that you're used to men who are much shorter than you," Bart
concluded.

"And you are used to petite western women like Pamela Anderson and Yasmine
Bleeth. To you I must seem like a freak," Anastasia sobbed.

"No, Anastasia, to me you look like the most beautiful and desirable woman in
the world. The reason I've been so quiet is because I thought you must be
disappointed with ME."

"But how could I be disappointed with you, Bartek? You are so tall and
handsome!" Bart was not about to correct her. He went over to where she was
sitting and began to lean in for a kiss when Anastasia lifted him off the
ground and kissed him passionately on the lips. To feel her full, soft lips
completely cover his mouth was a like nothing he'd ever felt in his life. His
cock was instantly hard and a wave of hot, electric, erotic pleasure like he'd
never felt before swept over his entire body. His cock almost erupted from
just that first kiss.

Anastasia placed Bart on her lap and they made out for the next two hours.
Bart hadn't spent this much time just kissing a girl since Emily Hudsucker in
eighth grade. But this doesn't mean that he was disappointed by the
experience. It was as if he was falling in love for the first time all over
again. Plus, he'd never felt so warm and snuggly as he did sitting on
Anastasia's enormous lap, kissing and kissing her more.

"Oh, Bartek, you are so big and strong," Anastasia whispered as she nibbled on
his ear. It seemed a little ridiculous to be hearing that from her until he
remembered that her only other serious boyfriend was on 4'6".

"Anastasia," Bart whispered back, "I never thought I could be so turned on by
a woman." This wasn't just sweet talk on his part. Bart found Anastasia more
intoxicating than any woman he'd ever been with, and so far, all they'd done
was kissed. But she was just so big and strong and sexy. After being with
Anastasia for just a couple of hours, he was sure that he was over Stella for
good.

"Oh, Bartek, I can feel your hard struchok pressed against me. You struchok is
so big," Anastasia whispered. "I've never felt a struchok that was so big
before." From the context, Bart concluded that "struchok" meant "penis". She
gently rubbed it with her hand over his pants. "Oh, Bartek, you are so hard.
Is that all for me?" Feeling the gentle touch of Anastasia's big hand on his
cock set Bart aflame with desire. He thought of how easily she carried her
trunk earlier, with one hand when he couldn't lift it using his whole body. He
thought of how strong she must be, and yet her caress was so tender and
loving.

"Oh, Anastasia, please, baby, please ... ."

"Please what?" she giggled.

He could not articulate exactly what he wanted to say. "Oh please, baby ... ."

"I will do whatever you want me to, my darling, but why do you call me baby?"
She lifted him off her lap and cradled him in her big, strong arms. "Isn't it
more like you who are my little baby?"

Being held like this drove Bart insane with lust. "Please, Anastasia, please
carry me to my bedroom and fuck me," he begged.

"What does 'fuck' mean?" she asked.

"It means make love, have sex, make whoopee," he replied.

Anastasia stopped fondling his cock. "I'm sorry, my darling, but we have to
stop now," she said. Bart looked at her face. She looked ashamed and
disappointed and sad all at the same time. She was still cradling him in her
arms.

"I'm sorry, Anastasia," he said, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Bartek, I am to blame. I shamelessly used my body to get you too
excited," she replied solemnly.

"But ... but what's wrong with that?" he asked.

"We must not do that thing you said. We must not ... fuck. I have followed my
goat down that path once before, and it went badly. I won't act in so
shameless a manner again."

"But, darling," Bart pleaded. "You're just so sexy and beautiful."

"And you are so handsome and tall, Bartek. I desire you as much as you desire
me." Bart doubted that. "But please, don't remind me about how shameless I've
been behaving."

"But, sweetheart, you haven't acted shamelessly," Bart protested.

"Yes, I have," argued Anastasia, "For example, the way I carried my trunk with
one hand."

"You mean to say that it wasn't as easy for you to do that as it seemed?" Bart
asked.

"Oh yes, it was very easy for me to carry it that way. But that is not the
point. I should have pretended it was harder for me. I was showing off my
tremendous strength for you so that you would be more attracted to me."

"So ... you knew that I would be attracted to your strength?"

"Of course, my sweet man, I come from a country where it is normal for the
women to be stronger than the men. I know that most men like strong women."

"How strong are you?" Bart asked.

"Far stronger than you can imagine," she replied, "But there I go bragging
again! You see what a brazen woman I have become! I can't help it, Bartek; I
am so attracted to you."

"That's okay with me, Anastasia. I like women to be a little brazen, and I
love women to be attracted to me." Bart leaned in and kissed Anastasia
tenderly on the cheek. "Anastasia, you're the sweetest, most honest woman I've
ever met. It's not a sin for you to do things to try to impress me and attract
my attention. I'm flattered by it. And, by the way, it worked because I love
your strength, and I think that you're the most beautiful, sexiest woman in
the world."

Anastasia pulled Bart in for another passionate kiss on the lips. "My darling
Bartek, I feel the same way about you, and I do want to fuck with you. But
it's a sin unless we are married."

"In that case," Bart said with a disappointed yet understanding tone, "We
better stop what we're doing now."

"Yes, I think you are right," Anastasia agreed.

Bart showed his guest to the master bedroom. It had the biggest bed. He hoped
that it would be long enough to accommodate her if she slept diagonally. Then
he moped off to sleep in the guest room. He brushed his teeth and slipped into
a pair of clean boxer shorts and settled into what he was sure would be a
restless night of fitful sleep.

He was in bed when he heard a light tap on the door. "Come in," he said. The
door opened and yet was still filled with Anastasia's giant form. She ducked
into the room and Bart switched on the light near the bed. Anastasia was
dressed in simple sleeping attire that resembled an old style flannel
nightshirt. Although her nightgown was simple, it hugged her body and her huge
breasts pushed against the soft material. The helm reached to about her
mid-thighs and showed a generous portion of her sexy legs. Her hair was loose
and flowing. She looked incredibly scrumptious.

"What is it, Anastasia; is something wrong?"

Though her voice was quiet and timid, she came right to the point. "I think
that it would be okay for us to fuck if we were at least promised to each
other."

Bart bolted up in his bed. "You mean ... ?"

"Yes, my darling, it would be all right to fuck if we were engaged to be
married."

This was the biggest no brainer decision of Bart's young life.
"Anastasiawillyoumarryme?" he blurted out as if it was a single word.

"Yes, Bartek, yes!" Anastasia cried. In one smooth motion she bent over and
lifted her fiancé out of bed and brought him up to her lips where she again
kissed him with passionate intensity. Her oversized tongue filled his mouth.
She then effortlessly shifted his position so that she was once again cradling
him in her powerful arms. Even with her enormous size, Bart marveled at the
ease with which Anastasia tossed him around. He could not believe he was lucky
enough to be engaged to such a big, strong, sexy woman. "Come, my precious
little baby-man," she said, "I am going to fuck you now like only a powerful
Eastern European woman can."

She carried Bart into the master bedroom and tossed him onto the bed. The look
of wanton lust in her eyes was unmistakable. She was so anxious to get naked
for him that she didn't take the time to pull her nightgown over her head.
Instead, she grabbed the nightie by the collar with both hands and ripped it
off her body.

Anastasia stood before Bart in all her naked glory. Her body was spectacular,
and there was so much of it. She was all lush and thick curves. She looked
strong and yet unmistakable feminine. "Do you like?" she asked in a deep,
throaty whisper.

"I like very much," Bart replied.

Anastasia noticed his hard cock poking out of the hole in the crouch of the
boxers he was wearing. "I can see that you do," she giggled

She sat down on the bed and placed Bart in her lap. She took his stiff cock in
her hand. Though her hand almost completely enveloped it she said, "My
goodness, your struchok is SO BIG!" Bart knew that his cock was only average
for a man his size, but he saw no reason to contradict his future wife.

"I must have that big struchok in my mouth," she said and she lifted Bart up
and took his dick between her soft lips. She had no trouble fitting his entire
inflamed cock in her mouth. Bart had never felt such an amazing sensation in
his life.

They spent the next several hours exploring every inch of each other's bodies.
Bart could not get enough of sucking tits that were bigger than his own head
and caressing big, hard muscles covered by satin smooth skin. Meanwhile,
Anastasia caressed, licked, kissed and generally pampered Bart's "struchok" in
as many different ways as she could think of.

The feeling Bart got when he was lying on top of Anastasia with his cock in
her pussy was an amazing combination of erotic and yet comforting feelings.
Despite her size, Anastasia's pussy felt tight ... warm ... inviting. Being
enveloped between her thick, powerful legs and feeling her immense pulsating
body beneath him made Bart feel safe ... secure ... protected. To feel her
body respond to every thrust of his hard shaft and to hear her howl and moan
as if his cock was as long and as thick as a prize stallion's made him feel
like the biggest stud on the planet. And when the love making was over, to
fall asleep with Anastasia's big arms around him squeezing him tightly against
her massive breasts made Bart feel loved and completely satisfied.

Just before drifting off to sleep, Anastasia whispered to Bart, "You have made
me so happy, Bartek, and I am going to make sure that you are happy too from
now on. I am so lucky to have found you."

Bart responded by saying, "I'm the lucky one." He was doubly sure this was
true after he fell asleep and his mother came to him in a dream. She smiled at
him and, "Now, aren't you glad that you listened to your mother?"

"Yes, Momma," he replied.

What could possible go wrong?

... To be continued.

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