Muscles in Paradise
by Moxie
On a deserted island


The Miami Herald and the Ft. Lauderdale Sun Times printed a brief 
summary of the following story in the last section, on one of the last 
inside pages, as if even they did not believe what was reported: 

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

She swam regular powerful strokes that propelled her through the 
dangerous rip currents like a torpedo, actually appearing to toss 
whitecaps from her wake.  No one on Ft. Lauderdale Beach realized that 
she actually wasn't returning to shore - that she actually had begun her 
journey from a far away shore.  

She emerged from the tide, stood at the water's edge and squeezed the 
excess water from her long golden hair.  She was an incredible vision, 
around 6 feet tall.  The warm South Florida sunshine felt wonderful as 
it began to bake her darkly-tanned skin.  Once the hair wringing was 
complete, she put both her hands on her hips in that oh-so-familiar pose 
and looked up and down the beach.  She was more muscular than a top 
female bodybuilder.  The leopard-skin bikini barely covering the 
"required" areas of her body, the triangular swatches of animal hide 
only managed to cover about a third of her rounded, DD-cup breasts, and 
the bottom of her outfit essentially was a thong. 

Lucky drops of sea water ran down her strong muscular body, tracing her 
tantalizing curves.  Speeding up and slowing down as they ran over her 
generous curves, the droplets seemed to stop and savor wherever breasts 
or muscles curved out at practically right angles before reluctantly 
choosing another path. 

Between the bikini, her body, and the pose, the stranger was quite a 
sight, as the normally bustling beach front in front of the Riviera 
Hotel quickly came to a hushed standstill.  Every eye was fixated on 
her, as male and female alike dreamed of being with her, of tasting her 
passion.  Within just a few moments, about 200 Speedos - this beach was 
historically populated predominantly by Europeans - began to bulge 
embarrassingly, eventually stretching to reveal a gap between cloth and 
thighs as the hidden prizes strained to poke through. 
 
As she turned to run left to the south, the studly lifeguard leapt from 
his tower to run after her, his latest prey of the day.  He had to 
sprint to catch up with her casually powerful strides, admiring the 
perfectly-shaped golden orbs of her ass that looked incredibly firm.  He 
marveled at how each step made her hamstrings and calves flash 
unbelievable definition.  Finally catching up, he ran astride and paced 
her speed, which was nearly as fast as he could run.  He was a little 
surprised that despite the swim and this quick running pace, she did not 
appear to be out of breath at all. 

"Hey foxy, like what's your hurry?" he said trying to make conversation 
between heavy breaths.  She turned to look at him, practically 
expressionless.  Then turning to look back down the length of the beach, 
she accelerated to an impossible speed, leaving him standing alone on 
the sand with a gaping mouth as she kicked up a rooster tail of sand and 
sped down the beach.  Within just a few seconds, she was totally out of 
sight. 

She ran southward until she reached downtown Miami, slowing to stroll 
down Brickell Avenue.  She looked up at the skyscrapers and down the 
gritty streets.  People rushed by her and stared, some cars honked at 
her.  She walked around South Beach for a while, actually not looking so 
out of place in that neighborhood. 

In all, she strolled around downtown Miami for over an hour, finally 
deciding it just wasn't for her; she preferred the jungle and her 
island.  She felt like a fish out of water.  This hardness, this 
falseness...this...this civilization simply did not seem so civilized to 
her.  She sensed deceit, aggression, greed, and malevolence.  Lies, not 
love.  Sure, she had been lonely, and was seeking companionship, but not 
at this cost.  Living in civilization was a price she was not prepared 
to pay.  Besides, she had already proven she could always come back here 
any time she wanted.  With that, she stepped into the surf of Biscayne 
Bay and began to swim her powerful strokes again, eventually returning 
out to sea. 

**********         A Few Months Later, Over the Southern Caribbean 

"SHIT!" the pilot said as he realized that another vital system had gone 
down.  

The old DC-3 had seen better days.  First, the running lights went dim 
last month.  Then, the ventilation shorted out last week - the cockpit 
had been hot as a furnace ever since, and the radio went dead this 
morning, taking about most of the cockpit gauges with it.  Lovely. God, 
how he hated to fly blind.  And today, the hydraulics began to short 
out, causing the old cargo plane to lurch, yaw, and handle terribly.  

"What else could go wrong?" he muttered as he wrestled the stick.  Just 
then, the starboard prop began sputtering and spewing oil and smoke.  
"HOLY SHIT!" 

"I knew it...I knew it" the pilot cursed as he wrestled the stick, 
scanned gauges, and flipped switches, "I knew that damn Medina had it in 
for me...Dammit, Mom was right, I shoulda gone to veterinary school." 

Casey O'Connor was just a tool of the drug cartels, or actually a mule, 
not a tool.  Once the product was produced in South America, it followed 
a path through various and sundry Caribbean islands to eventually find 
its way into the good old US of A.  And Casey helped make sure it got 
there, covering the Columbia to Caribbean leg of the transport.  Not 
that he supported the cartels' goals, in fact, he'd never even taken any 
drugs other than an occasional bit of marijuana.  (He joked that he 
didn't really inhale that much, so he could still run for President 
someday.)  But the money was good, the flights were beautiful, and it 
kept him just out of the reach of the federales in Miami.  

Casey wasn't a criminal, per se;  he preferred to say he was just 
tragically misunderstood.  It was just that he'd had several run-ins 
over the years - barfights, traffic tickets, misdemeanors, gambling, 
petty stuff, really - finally getting tired of it all, the unrelenting 
bureaucracy of the American justice machine.  "I fought the law, and 
the...law won" he used to sing.  That's when he decided to chuck it all 
and fly the friendly skies of Central and South American. 

Casey was a ruggedly-handsome, rogue-ish fellow.  With his devilish good 
looks, and a natural love for adventure, he was also a bit of a 
scoundrel.  Little did he know that his landing strip ground crew chief, 
Medina was his name, had arranged for Casey's premature demise - 
something about his two eldest daughters mysteriously getting pregnant.  
Casey tried to convince Medina that the pregnancies were miracles of 
immaculate conception, and that the Catholic Church should be notified 
at once.  However, Medina obviously didn't find that humorous since he 
had ordered Casey's plane to be packed to 30,000 pounds take-off weight, 
nearly a ton more than its official capacity, and then arranged for its 
mechanical sabotage.  

And now after 16 months of being the cartel's primary mule - during 
which time his Swiss bank account had swelled nicely - Casey was losing 
altitude over the blue Caribbean Sea with a cargo hold full of cocaine 
and several bales of marijuana, but no raft or parachute.  

"DOUBLE SHIT!"  

Between the extra weight, one less prop, and no hydraulics, the old DC-3 
had all the aerodynamic maneuverability of a rock. 

Casey frantically scanned the horizon for potential landing areas as the 
plane veered downward.  He preferred someplace remote because of his 
illegal cargo.  His plan was to set the plane down on an uninhabited 
island and then use the radio in the life raft to call for help.  "Let's 
see, there's the Grenadines...that's Union Island...that's Palm 
Island...there's Petite St. Vincent...there's Cariacou..."   All those 
islands were too populated. 

"There's...what the... what's that?"  he didn't know what that shadowy 
object in the distance was.  It appeared to be a small mountainous 
island, probably 50 miles northeast of Cariacou.  For some reason, it 
wasn't on his map.  Maybe it was private, whatever the reason, it 
couldn't be too populated.  He decided to take a closer look. 

Despite being only about 10 miles across, the mystery island appeared to 
have a wide diversity of terrain:  tall mountains, deep secluded 
valleys, plateau highlands, mysterious lowlands, dense jungle, and, of 
course, beautiful beaches. 

After another quick look, Casey confirmed that the island wasn't on the 
charts.  With the grin of someone that had just pulled an inside 
straight in a high-stakes poker game, he looked into the camera and 
said, "Perfect." 

Casey was making his approach to a clearing at the edge of the 
highlands, when his other prop blew.  "TRIPLE SHIT!"  He hated the 
thought of doing a dead-stick landing when the plane was this heavy with 
cargo. 

The aircraft lost altitude quickly, and never made it to the highlands, 
instead crashing into a ravine at the edge of the mountain that marked 
the boundary between jungle and highlands.  Palm fronds smacked the 
cockpit windscreens and shattered them.  The craft shook furiously as it 
careened off one tree and then another with violent force.  The right 
wing was sheered off by a large banyan tree just before the fuselage 
came to rest in a peaceful lagoon at the base of a waterfall. 

Casey was groggy and his face was bloodied.  He fumbled with the buckle 
on the safety harness as the water rose in the cockpit.  He was on the 
verge on unconsciousness when it seemed like a pair of slim hands 
reached around him from behind and ripped the seatbelt strap in half.  
"No, that...can't be...must've been dreaming."  Moments later, he 
dreamed that he was being carried from the wreckage in someone's arms.  
He tried to look up at his rescuer, but could hardly see through his 
blurred and bloodied vision.  It looked like a girl, like a beautiful 
gir......  And then Casey's world went black. 

********** 

When he awoke, his head pounded like a tribal drum.  He was woozy, but 
tried to sit up.  He was in what appeared to be some kind of cave.  As 
his eyes cleared and adjusted to the darkness, he realized that it was 
pretty fantastic if it was a natural rock formation.  It seemed to have 
rooms, storage areas with shelves, even furniture, formed out of stone.  
There also were some chairs and tables made from bamboo.  He stood on 
wobbly legs and tried to walk outside, finding assistance in a crutch 
that had been crudely formed from some thick tree branches and bamboo. 

Outside the entrance to the cave was a clearing, where a woman knelt 
beside the a campfire.  Casey hobbled out into the sunlight and 
announced himself, "Hey, whatever you're cooking sure smells great."  
She jumped to her feet and spun around with a fright.  Quickly catching 
herself, a confident look returned to her face as she stood with her 
hands on her hips.  

For Casey, the next few moments went in slow motion, as his eyes feasted 
on the beauty of this jungle woman.  She was about 18 years old, tall, 
tan, and strong.  Her straight amber hair hung over her shoulders and 
mid-way down her back.  The way it captured and reflected the sunlight 
was dazzling.  The graceful, muscular contours of her darkly-tanned body 
were erotic to look at, and gave testament to the physical demands of 
living in this rugged environment.  She had a flat, firm stomach and 
large round breasts.  Her bright green eyes disclosed a simple purity.  
She wore a bikini - if you could call it that - made of a leopard-skin 
animal hide that covered very little, but suggested a whole lot. 

After a few uncomfortable moments, Casey realized how overtly he had 
been checking her out, and he felt self-conscious.  Then he realized she 
had been checking him out, too, he became embarrassed.  Ever trying to 
control situations that he secretly knew he could not control, he tried 
to speak, "Uh...hi...my name is..." 

As he spoke, a wave of nausea rocked him, and he began to faint as his 
vision went fuzzy.  When his legs began to buckle, the jungle girl 
jumped the ten feet to where he was standing.  She grabbed a handful of 
his tan button-down shirt and supported his weight.  A few moments later 
his nausea passed, and his senses returned.  He looked down and realized 
that she was holding his entire body about a foot off the ground...with 
just one hand.  With a look of obvious surprise, he looked at her 
gorgeous smiling face, and his eyes traced their way down her strong 
shoulder, over a bulging bicep, along a flared forearm, to her grip on 
his shirt.  She was holding his 220 pounds straight-arm in front of her, 
and did not appear to be straining at all. 

"Careful, I'm not sure you're ready to do a lot just yet," she said with 
a soft voice that was practically melodious.  "My name is Jenna, and 
you're on my island.  Let me help you.  Do you think you can stand by 
yourself for a moment?" 

He nodded, unable to speak.  She gently returned his feet to the ground 
and walked over to a large L-shaped boulder.  It was five or six feet 
across, and probably weighed close to 1,500 pounds.  She bent over and 
wrapped her hands around it, and then, just a casually as she had held 
Casey off the ground, she slowly straightened up, and lifted the 
tremendous boulder.  She turned and carried it over to where Casey was 
standing and set it down very unceremoniously in front of the fire.  She 
looked over her shoulder to confirm the location of the sun, and turned 
back to adjust the alignment of the boulder for the most advantageous 
position.  When she was satisfied it was positioned properly, she 
motioned to Casey, "Would you like to sit down?" 

Casey's head was spinning.  How could she have lifted such a weight so 
easily?  Was he hallucinating?  He noticed for the first time that the 
shape of the rock reminded him of a living room recliner.  He cautiously 
inched over to the stone and sat down, never taking his eye off the 
remarkable muscle girl. 

He had decided to sit down out of deference to her, but fully expected 
the chair to be hard and uncomfortable.  To his surprise, it was not 
uncomfortable at all.  Like one of those new-age chairs that looks 
strange and harsh, yet provides the proper support in all the right 
places, the rock chair was actually quite comfortable.  Casey sat back 
and let the rock support his full weight. 

He looked back at her, "How did you lift this?  Who are you?" 

She smiled back at him, "As I said, I am Jenna, and you are on this 
island.  I've taken care of you since your plane crashed here.  You've 
been unconscious for three days." 

"THREE DAYS!?!" 

"Yes, you had me quite worried.  I cleaned you up and tended to your 
wounds.  You're a very lucky man, having received only cuts and bruises 
from a crash like that.  I tried to feed you food and water, but I 
couldn't get you to swallow." 

"Well, that would have been a first," he said jokingly. 

"What?" she said, not understanding the hidden meaning. 

"Never mind.  How did you lift this rock?  It must weigh a ton?" he 
asked. 

"Oh, it isn't really that heavy for me.  I'm actually quite strong, 
which is how I've managed to survive here.  We can talk more about that 
later.  Are you hungry?" 

Casey was amazed by her honesty and openness.  She seemed like a truly 
genuine, nice person.  And that body, my God, what a body.  He was 
mulling over all of this, when her last question suddenly registered and 
he felt a hunger pang in the pit in his stomach.  "Hell yes, I'm hungry, 
I haven't eaten in three days, right?" 

She smiled at him and turned to get him a plate of food.  There was some 
kind of meat skewered on a spit above the flames, from which she cut off 
a large drumstick.  Then she spooned some vegetables out of a pot.  The 
aromas of the food smelled wonderful.  The gorgeous bikini-clad goddess 
smiled and handed him the plate, "Hope you like it."  

Casey looked up at the goddess that was his waitress and silently 
thought to himself, "Oh, I could get used to this." 

Jenna stood there watching the handsome man eat, and realized she felt 
happy for the first time in years.  She had become lonely here on her 
island, and having Casey there made her very happy.  For years, she 
longed for someone to hold her, and for someone to hold.  For someone to 
spend time with, someone to love.  She dreamed about having someone to 
take care of, someone who would worship her.  Jenna knew from the way he 
looked at her that he found her attractive.  She sensed that he was 
attracted to her strong muscular body, and she very much wanted to share 
it with him.  

Jenna smiled and silently thought to herself, "Oh, I could get used to 
this." 

********** 

After he ate, they talked for a long while.  He introduced himself 
properly, and told her about his background.  He wasn't proud when she 
asked about the cargo his plane was carrying, and he had to reveal his 
work for the cartel.  

Then, it was her turn.  She explained how her American parents had moved 
to Martinique when she was 8 to manage a large plantation estate.  When 
she was 15, she had gone with her parents on a sailing vacation.  In a 
storm, they had shipwrecked off this small island.  She lost both her 
parents when the boat went down, and had lived here alone ever since. 

"Would you like some coconut water to wash that down?" she asked him as 
she listened to his story. 

"Uh, yeah, that sounds good, thanks," he replied.  "So, don't you get 
lonely living here all alone?  Don't you ever want to go back to..." 

As he was asking her that question, she grabbed a coconut and thrust her 
strong fingers through the tough outer husk with a loud crunch.  Then 
she "peeled" the coconut with her bare hands more easily than you or I 
might peel a banana.  Casey paused with amazement in mid-sentence when 
he witnessed her open the tough coconut so easily.  Then she held the 
hard inner shell in her left hand, and used the pinkie finger of her 
right hand to poke a hole in it to drink from. 

He looked at her awkwardly as he tried to comprehend her amazing display 
of strength, but tried to continue as if nothing had happened, "uh...to 
go back to the States, or to civilization." 

"Actually, I was in Miami a few months ago," she said slowly as she 
looked down.  She paused, then "I swam there, didn't like it, and swam 
back."  She looked back up into his eyes, waiting for his reaction. 

"I...I see," was all he said, still trying to process this revelation.  
Then after a few moments, "I guess I would like to talk to you more 
about your strength sometime."  He sensed that she was uncomfortable 
with this conversation, so he changed the topic, "Hey, could you show me 
around this island, maybe take me to my plane?" 

"I suppose so, but ... I don't know that you're strong enough yet.  I 
may have to...carry you.  Would that be OK?" she asked tentatively. 

He just smiled and nodded as their eye contact lingered for a few 
moments.  Little did she know that it was a secret fantasy of Casey's to 
be carried by a powerful woman.  She bent over and cradled his bruised 
body in her powerful arms, easily lifting his minuscule weight off the 
stone chair.  He immediately became turned on, and inhaled her sweet 
fragrance.  He turned his head to nuzzle his nose into her hair.  She 
didn't resist, but whispered, "...mmm, we'll have time for that later, 
babe, but for now, let's get going." 

He was amazed at the exotic tropical beauty of the island.  She showed 
him mountains, waterfalls, jungles, and beaches all the while carrying 
him as if he weighed nothing.  Some of the time, she ran as she carried 
him, and Casey estimated they were traveling at over 40 miles per hour.  
Throughout the two-hour tour, she was never short of breath, or showed 
any strain or fatigue at all. 

They were walking through dense jungle, when Casey asked, "hey, can we 
take a break for a second?"  

"If you must," she answered as she set him down on a fallen log. 

He carefully search for the right words, "Jenna, I want to learn 
more...about your strength.  I mean, lifting me and that stone chair, 
husking the coconut...just how strong are you?  And how'd you get so 
strong?" 

This was the question she had dreaded.  But she knew she had to face it.  
Now she would know whether or not he was the one; whether he would be 
attracted to, or scared of, her strength.  She turned away from him to 
consider her response.  He looked at her body with awe, her strong 
curves so erotic, her breasts so firm and proud on her chest.  The 
tanned globes of her ass looking so defined. 

"Well, compared to you, yes, I am very strong....I've never exactly 
measured it, but I would guess I'm probably 400-500 times the strength 
of a normal person.  I've been that way since just after my parents 
died."  And then she waited, for his response, for the bomb to drop.  
Would he think she was a freak?  Would he be intimidated?  Downright 
scared?  The silence was practically painful to her as the moments 
dragged on. 

She felt his hand gently caress her shoulder, and his warm breath on her 
neck.  She tingled with anticipation as he stood right behind her. 

Then he whispered in her ear, "You know, I find superhuman strength so 
becoming in a woman...Don't you?" 

She was so relieved, she turned around and lifted him off the ground 
with one hand, as she put her other hand on her voluptuous hip.  With an 
impish grin on her face, she giggled and said, "Oh, so that's how you're 
going to play it, huh?  How about if I just throw you into orbit?" 

"No, please no, supergirl," he teased back.  Then more seriously, "But, 
would you be willing to show me your muscles?" he said as his eyebrows 
gave a wiggle like Groucho Marx.  

"I've been hoping you'd ask that," she said with a breathtaking smile. 

"All right!" he said trying to imitate the Robin Williams Genie from 
Aladdin.  As she held him two feet above her head, he caught glimpse of 
something just ahead through the dense underbrush.  Something metallic. 

"Hey, put me down a second, I think I see something up ahead."  His tone 
was more serious now. 

She lowered his feet back to the ground and said, "Yes, I know what it 
is...its your plane.  Casey, do you really think you ready to see it?  
It may be tough for you to see it." 

"Yeah, I think I'll be OK," he said as he pushed his way through the 
brush, shoving branches and fronds out of his way.  

Suddenly, he was in a clearing next to a lagoon surrounded by dense 
tropical vegetation that bordered a sheer cliff.  The highlands must've 
been just above there.  A waterfall cascaded down the face of the cliff 
and emptied into the lagoon.  The shoreline had a large clearing 
littered with huge boulders, most likely that had split off the mountain 
face.  The battered hull of his old DC-3 lay three-quarters submerged in 
the water. 

"That is where I found you," she whispered as she pointed to the 
partially-submerged craft.  Then, noticing his entranced expression and 
how unresponsive he was, "Are you sure you're all right?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine.  But I wish we could get her out of the water." 

"Ask and you shall receive," she said mysteriously. 

She confidently walked past him and around the edge of the lagoon.  He 
admired her body as she walked, "Man, she is hot."  When she reached the 
shoreline near the plane, she walked into the water.  First knee deep, 
then waist deep, then shoulder deep.  Then she swam to a point near the 
plane, took a deep breath, and dove underwater.  Casey, wasn't sure what 
she was doing, until he started to hear a creaking sound. 

"Holy shit!", Casey whispered in disbelief.  A moment later, the 
fuselage began to level itself, the nose becoming level with the tail.  
Then the whole plane began to rise up out of the water, and gradually 
moved towards the beach.  Gradually, as the bottom of the fuselage 
cleared the waterline, he could see Jenna underneath the middle of the 
plane, supporting the entire weight on her two powerful arms. 

Water drained and streamed from every opening on the airplane's skin.  
She carried the DC-3 up on the beach and gently set it down.  Then, she 
returned to where Casey was standing.  She stood before him dripping 
wet, but significantly pumped up, put her hands on her hips in the 
classic supergirl pose, smiled and said, "piece of cake." 

For perhaps the first time in his life, O'Connor was speechless.  This 
girl was truly remarkable. 

"If you're still interested, now might be a good time to check out some 
muscles, now that I'm pumped up that is," she said as she flexed 
softball-sized biceps, a brick wall of abs, and tree trunk thighs.  
Casey had always been an admirer of femuscle, and she was larger than 
any woman bodybuilder he had ever seen.  He was so aroused, he felt like 
he was about to explode. 

Casey moved closer to her, "You mean, you wouldn't mind being with a 
weakling like me?" 

"Casey," she replied, "I WANT you to worship my muscles.  I WANT to take 
care of you, and use my strength to help you survive here in the island 
with me.  I WANT to perform feats of strength for you.  I WANT to please 
you.  Basically, I want to be your supergirl.  Any questions?" 

"Just one:  can I be your love slave, too?" he whispered, smiling.  He 
reached around her and untied the bikini top, releasing her beautiful 
breasts.  She flexed her pectoral muscles in order to present her 
breasts to him, and he began to suck them.  They were firm and round.  
She moaned appreciatively for several minutes.  

While he was sucking her chest, Jenna reached down and ripped his pants 
in two with her strong hands as easily as if the denim was wet tissue 
paper.  His penis was large and throbbing; he ached to sink it deep into 
her.  She reached down and worked the shaft with one hand, at one point 
casually applying a grip that took his breath away as it felt like she 
would crush him flat. 

She put a finger under his chin and lifted his lips to hers.  She began 
to kiss him, more deeply than he had ever known, while she massaged his 
shaft.  Casey's head began to spin, he Casey had never felt anything 
like this before, this girl was truly amazing. 

A few minutes later, Jenna put her hands on his hips, and gently lifted 
him off the ground, raising his penis to her mouth.  She took him deep 
within her mouth, and sucked him harder than he had ever thought 
possible.  

When it was finally over, she set his feet back on the ground, and put 
her hands on her hips.  "Well, was that a decent first try?" she asked 
facetiously, grinning like a catbird and raising one eyebrow.  

Casey, could barely breath, let alone talk, "Well, let's just say we'll 
need quite a bit more practice.  Now, let's have a look at that plane, 
shall we?" 

As they walked toward the 65 foot aircraft, Casey commented how it was 
too bad she hadn't put it far enough on the beach, and that the nose was 
still in the water.  So Jenna walked to the front of the plane until she 
was knee deep in the water.  She put one hand on her him, and placed one 
hand on the nose, and began to push.  Slowly, she shoved the cargo plan 
backward, the hull scraping and scuffing across the rocks and sand as it 
scored a deep groove in the ground, until it was up on the beach and 
clear of the water. 

"Better?" 

Casey was practically dumbfounded.  "Uh-huh...Jenna, do you realize that 
plane probably weighs close to 30,000 pounds?  That's 15 tons, that you 
just pushed around with one hand."  She just smiled back at him proudly.  
"Honestly, Casey, it just isn't all that heavy for me." 

He walked to the mid-fuselage door, but found it jammed shut.  He began 
to struggle with the door handle, but to no avail.  "Here, let me help 
you, babe," she said.  With one hand, she pressed inward the skin of the 
aircraft just outside of the door frame.  When it was bent in enough, 
she gripped her hands into the edge and literally tore the entire metal 
door from the frame of the aircraft.  As she peeled the door open, water 
from inside the cargo bay poured out onto the sand.  Aluminum screamed 
and creaked as she easily worked the metal to her needs.  

When it was finally separated from the frame, she began to play with it, 
testing her strength.  She folded it in half, as her arms and pecs 
flexed powerfully.  She worked the metal as if it was tin foil, 
deforming it at will.  Practically disappointed that it didn't provide 
her with more of a test, she looked up to see Casey staring at her and 
smiling.  "What?" she asked. 

"God, I love to watch you do stuff like that," he admitted. 

"Then I'll have to do it often," she teased. 

They salvaged as much as they could from the plane and set it on the 
sand.  By the time they were done, it looked like too much to carry by 
hand. 

"How're we gonna get all this back to the cave?  It'll take several 
trips," he said. 

"Naw, pack everything onto one of the pallets that's in the cargo bay, 
and I'll just carry you and it back," she offered. 

"Geez Jenna, I'd feel like I was loading you up like a pack animal.  I 
can't do that, honey" 

"Don't be silly, you know it won't be heavy for me.  In fact, if you 
want, I could just carry the whole plane home, although it would be a 
little awkward to carry through the jungle." 

Casey admitted that wouldn't be necessary today, so they loaded up a 
pallet and headed back to the cave, one of her powerful arms holding the 
pallet overhead with over a ton of salvaged provisions, and the other 
holding Casey next to her. 

********** 

That night, they ate well.  Jenna went speed swimming and caught a large 
swordfish with her bare hands.  They also had scallops, pumpkin, green 
beans, and salad.  Later, they sat around the fire and talked.  For 
desert, they had fresh fruit and some homegrown coffee - there were 
definitely advantages to her having been raised on an agricultural 
estate. 

Under the moonlight, and the illumination from the campfire, Jenna was 
breathtaking.  He tried to appreciate all her radiance, but doubted that 
he could.  Her golden silky hair cascaded across her strong brown 
shoulders.  Her light green eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, and 
her smile was brilliant white.  

"Jenna, you never did tell me how you got so strong," he asked. 

"Its the juju fruit," she said in between bites as she held out a piece 
of melon-like fruit. 

"What?  Eating a fruit made you that strong?" 

"Yep.  Here, try some." 

"Will it make me strong, too?" he asked. 

"I don't know, I guess we'll find out," she said as ate some of the 
fruit. 

"How long does it take?" 

"In my case, it took about an hour for it to be fully absorbed., but my 
muscles began to grow after 15 minutes." 

An hour later nothing had happened, and Casey was getting impatient.  It 
was becoming apparent that the fruit had no enhancing effect on men, and 
Jenna sensed his frustration and apprehension.  "Don't worry, babe, even 
if it doesn't work, I've got enough muscle for the both of us."  

She walked into the cave and came out with a small jar.  "Why don't you 
have this for desert instead."  It was full of honey.  She spooned some 
at the top of her thighs.  As it started to drip down her thigh, she 
flexed her enormous muscles.  Since her thighs were amazingly cut, the 
honey flowed into the channels and clefts of her thigh muscles, flowing 
first to the left and then to the right.  Casey crawled to her and began 
to lick the sweet honey from the creases in her tantalizing muscular 
thighs. 

Then, she poured some onto her abs and began to flex them, too.  As the 
honey flowed around her six-pack abs, Casey attentively licked and 
sucked up all the honey. 

Lastly, she drizzled some on the top of her bicep muscle.  As is started 
to roll down the side or her arm, she began to flex the bicep.  Because 
her arm was flexing upward faster than the honey was rolling downward, 
for a moment it looked like the honey was rolling uphill! 

Then she swept Casey up in her arms and carried her into their cave.  

"Boy is this ever a role reversal," Casey joked. 

There was a large animal skin on the ground in front of what looked like 
a fireplace.  Jenna carried a large log in and split it with her bare 
hands.  Then she took two pieces and pressed them together, her arms and 
pecs looking very thick.  As she began to rub them back and forth while 
maintaining the pressure, the friction began to build.  Soon wisps of 
smoke began to rise, then thicker smoke, and a few moments later, small 
flames.  She place the infant fire logs in the hearth and stoked the 
fire with kindling.  A couple of minutes later, she added a larger log.  
Within 10 minutes, there was a crackling fire in the fireplace. 

Jenna turned back to Casey and smiled - God she was beautiful - and 
said, "Who needs matches when you've got these?"  She flexed the two 
largest biceps Casey had ever seen, gorgeous curved mounds of feminine 
muscle.  Both were the size of softballs, and nearly rivaled the size of 
her breasts.  "Now, where were we?" she said.  Suddenly she looked like 
a tigress, as she lay upon him. 

That night, she took him.  There's no other way to describe it.  As much 
as his male ego was unwilling to accept it, she took him.  And Casey was 
a very willing participant.  All he had ever wanted was couched before 
him in an animal skin bikini.  That night, she pleased him in ways he 
never even dreamed were possible, his body and spirit lifted to new 
heights.  He was there for her bidding, but let's be honest, he got 
plenty out of the deal, too. 

When they were finished, he held her. Her broad shoulders and full chest 
making it nearly impossible for his hands to clasp on the other side.  
He would always remain in awe of her beauty, her muscles, and her 
strength.  Most of all, he was awed by her devotion to him, which he 
truly felt he did not deserve.  As he traced his fingers along her 
voluptuous curves, and he knew he was hers forever.  And she knew it, 
too. 

And this jungle supergirl had found what she wanted, too:  someone to 
take care of, someone to share herself with.  She loved it when he 
marveled at her muscles when she worked out.  He worshipped her muscles 
when the made love.  And for all her strength, he loved her for her 
weaknesses, too.  She needed him to make her whole, to make her one.  
Virtually anything he needed, she would get for him, so strong were her 
muscles, and so deep was their love.  She defended him, protected him, 
nurtured him, and loved him.  And he worshipped her for it all. 

********** 

In time, she rearranged the boulders of their "cave" into a more 
conventional house.  In  some sections, they even had bricks, made from 
a mortar she formed by crushing rocks with her bare hands.  She even 
used her powerful fists to pound out more stone furniture.  She used a 
large flat boulder to dredge a large swimming area in a dense part of 
the jungle near the cave.  Casey watched her using her muscles so 
powerfully and wondered if a Caterpillar could have done such a good 
job.  In time, she had to form a crib out of stone.  Their new arrival 
was a beautiful little baby girl with blond hair.  They fed her formula 
with crushed juju fruit mixed in, and watched and waited. 

Their stone bungalow became a home, the home for Casey O'Connor and his 
goddess.  They woke up each day in this island paradise, next to the one 
they loved.  They swam in its sapphire waters, made love under its 
tropical sunshine, napped under the cool Caribbean breezes, and slept 
under a dazzling blanket of twinkling stars.  Together they drank in all 
of the exotic tropical paradise until the juices ran down their chins.  
They also tasted each others' nectar, and filled each other full. 

Casey watched another fiery sunset splash into the ocean as he thought 
about the new life he had found with his goddess.  He was totally 
devoted to her, and she to him.  There was really no need for either of 
them to return to "civilization", for they both had all they needed 
right here on their beautiful island.  

Casey had found paradise on Earth with his love, his muscles in 
paradise. 


THE END (for now)