The Big Day - Hooking Up with the Ex Part 4 By Pac pac Islands fun with John and Billie as they tie the knot We awoke, me sore as hell, Billie purring like a cat, and rose to greet our big day. It was the second marriage for both of us, and we were determined it was going to be the last. Billie was more wound up about the event than me. I had a nice wedding with my first wife, so I had done the whole church and reception thing. Honestly I would have been perfectly happy to have run away with the kids to Palau ourselves. Billie had had the misfortune of being married to hillbilly bum, and a deadbeat dad to boot, so she had a shoestring wedding her first go around, already three months pregnant during the ceremony. This time she wanted to do it right. It was a simple yet elegant affair, a sunset shipboard wedding, followed by a small celebration in the harbor and a landbound reception at the resort we were staying at. The nice thing about Palau was, no matter when the celebration occurred, there was always such a laid-back air about everything thoughout the archipelago, that there seldom ever was a catastrophe for these types of events. We made all of our plans through one of the nicer wedding services in Chicago, however (they came highly recommended), so that threw a wildcard into the mix. If we had gone specifically through a Palau-based service, everything would be arranged by someone on our island. As it turned out, the Chicago planner subcontracted the same Palau service, only they put their own signature "touch" on the event to justify the extra $5000 ... I wanted to tell Billie "I told you so", but after last night, I didn't care if I meteor fell out of the sky and hit the ship's captain during the ceremony, so contented was I. So we had our shipboard wedding, party, landbound reception, and the photographer basically followed us around almost from the time we woke up, getting us in our pre-wedding finery, driving out to scenic "spots" on Peleliu that would make the most spectacular images, his words, and more or less being a pain in the ass. There's nothing like having some twit snapping a picture of you spilling your Mimosa on your shirt at breakfast, or the nice cleavage shot that was inadvertently taken when Billie reached over to retrieve her dropped napkin. Memories ... I almost got my own DSLR out of my dive bag and snapped my own pics, but one look at Billie's glowing face made me forget all of the little inconveniences of having our shutterbug shadow and chauffeur. She did get irritated with him after lunch, though, when we went out to a dramatic rocky outcropping on the very southern tip of the island. Bkul Omerchel is this little rocky point with a picnic area, and volcanic outcroppings jutting out into the sea ... at the right moment, high tide will blast dramatic sprays of water 30 and 40 feet in the air, really making some great shots. The photog wanted us standing as close as we could to these little wave channels where we could have that drama as our backdrop for a wedding kiss picture. I thought it was hokey, but the guy's an artiste, right? Who am I to judge. So we drove out there in a rush, because the wedding service was loading our our wedding supplies onto the tall ship that just made port after storms had delayed its departure from Darwin, Australia. The schedule started getting tight because of the possibility of another storm that may delay another booking right after ours. The captain, a super friendly Aussie bloke, was bound and determined to get us our sunset wedding, so he planned to leave two hours earlier than the original schedule, give us our party before the wedding itself, then have us exchange our vows in time to beat a brewing storm that was to make landfall on Peleliu an hour after sunset. It was going to be tight, and the last thing we wanted to see was all of our wedding guests hanging over the side of the ship as it crested unseasonably high waves and navigated a coral reef that could tear the ship asunder. We were an adventurous couple, but our parents certainly were NOT, especially my mother, who got seasick floating on a swimming pool inflatable. We already got out the scop patch for her and held the Dramamine in reserve in case the patches didn't work. Well, bungle number one came when mr. artistic photographer guy roars into Bkul Omerchel as breakneck speed and actually drives the rental Jeep off the road, blowing a tire and banging up the front end on some of the volcanic rocks bounding the site. What's worse, the Jeep comes to a grinding halt on some of the volcanic outcropping and drops the front end down three feet off the road into a chasm carved into the rock by ages old volcanic magma flow. Everyone wore seatbelts, and nobody was hurt, and believe it or not, my own camera, and one of the photographer's cameras survived (the little bugger swore a blue streak when he found the destroyed lens on one and cracked housing on the other), but the tire was shredded, the rentals typically didn't carry jacks, and we would need a tow truck to pull the Jeep out of its nose dive off the road. Billie was totally unconcerned, and sweet-talked the now-irate photographer to worry about the perfect kissing shot, then deal with the Jeep. We already called Peleliu's version of AAA, a guy up in Attalabul who owned one of the two tow trucks on the island, but he was tied up pulling some rich trust-fund baby's private plane out of a salt flat at the airport when the drunken bastard drove right off the runway! Rich people ... the nerve. The other truck we called was in Klouklubed repo'ing a car! Even in paradise, I thought, and relaxed. The tow trucks wouldn't make it here in time for us to make our ship departure, but I rested easy, knowing I had my own personal car jack/tow truck standing near me in her beautiful sundress and light bolero sweater, her gorgeous auburn hair blowing with the ocean breeze. We took our shots, and Billie stunned the photographer by doing a few ... unconventional poses. We did the standard: kissing in an embrace, kissing with me dipping Billie dramatically backward, kissing while sitting on the rocks, the usual; but Billie did her own wedding poses: kissing while holding me over her head, kissing while leaning way back, my body hung over her huge chest, kissing while held upside down by my hips ... she got creative. The photographer of course was flabbergasted. Billie was covered up for the most part, and, though you would have to be blind to not realize she was very fit, the level of strength she nonchalantly showed off just rocked his world. I told him he should take some shots of her with her sweater off, and Billie complied, showing off her massive shoulders and arms, the photographer's eyes wide as saucers. She chuckled and hit a couple of poses, with him too stunned to snap, so I got my own camera out and got some fantastic shots of her on the rocks with her chiseled body practically glowing, her incredible body in peak form, and dramatic blasts of sea spray erupting from the mighty Pacific to frame her perfect body. It was a nice time. We finished up, the photographer just in a daze and I couldn't help but prime the pump. "You should feel her arms ... they are like a marble goddess' statue," I whispered in his ear as he was checking his shots. He looked up at me (he was a pretty short guy, about 5'3") and just gave me such a blank stare I laughed out loud. "I know I have a body you don't see every day," Billie said to him, "but seriously?" That seemed to snap him out of it a little, because he blushed a few shades darker on his Oceanian complexion, and apologized profusely for his unprofessionalism. "I got thrown off by the car accident," he said by way of apology in his South Pacific accent. "Oh, that's okay, we'll take care of that," Billie said, and we walked toward the Jeep where it sat, wedged into a crevice off the side of the road. She stripped off her pretty sundress, wearing an athletic pair of panties and her big bra sports bra, and hopped down into the crevice, standing in front of the Jeep. "What do you want me to do, honey?" I asked, looking down at her magnificent physique. "Why don't you put the Jeep in neutral, and sit in the driver's seat so it doesn't roll off the road in the other direction?" she directed, shaking out her big arms and legs, and rotating her shoulders in preparation. "You got it, gorgeous," I said. I hopped in the driver's seat, and buckled up. "Ready when you are, baby," I said. The photographer looked like her swallowed a spiny urchin. "Okay, put it in," she said, and grabbed the heavy anchor points behind the bumper. She squatted down pushed against the bumper with her shoulders, and lifted the front end of the Jeep up with her quads the three feet needed, and turned to look at the photographer, with a sunny smile on her face. "Do you think this is high enough?" she asked innocently, little strain evident from picking up the front end of a 4500 pound Jeep Wrangler Rubicon edition. "Um ... um ... uh ... " the photographer babbled, his mind non-functional. "Yeah, you're right, I should get it up higher than the level of the road, in case it wants to roll back in," she said and muscled the Jeep up to her shoulders with a combination of legs and biceps, and then gave a mighty effort and push-pressed the front end of the Jeep to full-extension, her incredible shoulders and pecs blowing up to the point where her sports bra was ready to snap off her chest like a rubber band. "Hey, dumbass! Get some pictures of this, too, you idiot!" I yelled over, and Billie turned to him, her smile radiant, and brought the Jeep back down slowly to her shoulders. He fumbled the lens cap off his Nikon and started shooting slow shots, framing then excruciatingly slowly. I swore to God he was going to get out his light meter and take some readings. "How about just set the fucking shutter to 1/160 and take the stop down to F/5 and shoot away. Didn't you ever shoot any sporting events?" I said, annoyed. Billie just laughed from her position in the little rocky trench. "Yeah, I can hold this for a while, but aren't we on a schedule?" she asked the guy. He finally got his head out of his ass, and we could hear the camera clicking away. Billie made a big show of pushing the Jeep up high, throwing her hair over her shoulder and shooting a sexy look at the camera, then bringing it back down, then pushing it ever so slowly back up. I crawled out of my driver's seat, unable to resist watching her. "Hey, hold on to this thing ... I HAVE to see this!" I yelled over the hood of the Jeep. "Okay, but it's not like you can't see something like this whenever you want," she said with a laugh. I climbed up out of the driver's seat and up over the dashboard, lying across the hood of the Jeep to peer down at Billie over the front of the bumper. "I love the view from her ... maybe I should get MY camera," I teased, and she looked up at me, still smiling. "Yeah, you just like it because you can look at my boobs in this bra," she said, sticking her tongue out at me. "Nah, I just wanted to come up here and give you a challenge, because it didn't sound like you were getting enough of a workout," I teased. "Ooooh, with lying on the front end, it's gotten SO heavy ... I don't know if my little arms can handle all that extra weight," she said, and exaggerated signs of exhaustion crossed her lovely face. She looked back up at me and shot me a wink and pushed the Jeep back up off her shoulders with a little "oof" of exertion. I climbed back off the hood and made my way to the driver's seat again. "Okay, honey, we should quit playing around if we want to get back. Besides, we still need to change the tire." I said. "I just hope there's a tire jack in the back. "Yeah, you're right. But, you know, I haven't gotten a real workout in the last few days, so I feel like I'm falling off," she said, pushing the Jeep up for a few more reps. "Maybe we can rent a bigger car for the rest of our stay." "We can check for an Army tank AFTER we get married ... " I joked, and she laughed. "Tank, huh?" she said back at me. "I think I'll just have to leg press that. I don't think that's a weight I could put up in a standing military." "With you, honey, I don't think I'd take that bet," I said back in honest admiration. She finally quite goofing around and with a mighty shove, pushed the Jeep out of the trench, with me engaging the brake once it was clear. She hopped up out of the little crevice, a little winded, and started putting her sundress back on, her fully pumped arms huge, veins running across her biceps and forearms in a spidery network. I rummaged in the back and thankfully found a tire iron. I loosened the full-sized spare hanging off the endgate and lugged it around to the front. Why they wouldn't put the jack in there but leave the tire iron is beyond me. Anyway, I dropped the tire and brought the iron around to the front driver's side where the tire hung on the wheel like a tattered pirate flag. "Can you do me one more little favor, honey? The rental people seem to have left the jack at the office." I said to her, giving her a grin. "Oh, okay John. But you owe me, buddy," she grinned back and looked for a good place in the fender well to get a solid grip. "Why don't you just lift from the bumper, but just on this side?" I asked and kneeled down to loosen the lugs before she picked it up. "Yeah, good point," she said, and walked back around to the driver's side of the bumper, securing her handhold on the left-hand mounting point. "Go for it, honey," I said, and she eased the Jeep up so I could put the spare on. I went through the lugs, popping them off one by one, and pulled the wheel off, tossing it out of the way on the sandy road surface. I pulled the spare into place. "Hey, can you pick it up a little higher, please?" I asked around the fender, and up it went about two feet. I could hear Billie snickering from the front of the Jeep. "Okay wise-ass. Two can play at that game," I said with a chuckle, and stood with the tire, hoisting it up into place, and starting on the lugs. I snugged the first two opposing lugs on, but Billie decided she wanted to play a little more, and kept changing the height of the Jeep, peeking over the side at my progress. So every time I would go to put the end of the lug wrench over one of the lugs, the Jeep would drop or rise, just a tiny bit, and I'd miss my mark. She must have thought this was the funniest joke, because she had a terrible case of the giggles now, and teased me like this half a dozen times like this, until I shot her a dirty look. She peered over at me, shoulders still shaking, big breasts bouncing in her sundress as she laughed at my futile efforts, and she finally stopped, holding the Jeep still for the last three lugs to be tightened up. "Okay, you can set it down now," I said, waiting for her to put some weight on the front end so I could tighten the lugs with resistance against the wheel. "Yeah, but the balance will be all screwed up," she said, and looked over at the photographer, who looked like a deer in the headlights under her gaze. "Hey, can you come over here and sit in the driver's seat and just hold your foot on the brake?" she asked him, and he walked over and climbed in. Billie held the front end up a little higher, and said, "Go ahead, sweetie-pie," in her sweetest voice. I finished up tightening the lugs and she set the Jeep down, flexing her big arms and shoulders, very pumped from the impromptu exertion, but a big radiant smile on her face regardless. "Wow, that felt great!" she said, coming over and wrapping me in her big arms, lifting me lightly off the ground and placing a passionate kiss on my lips. She held me to her huge breasts, heaving from the exertion, their incredible masses overpowering my puny by comparison chest and gave me a cock-stiffening kiss, pressing me deep into those big boobs. I heard a couple more clicks, and turned to look as we broke our kiss. Our little artiste friend had managed to frame our kiss against a beautiful ocean panorama, complete with seabirds, a fantastic plume of sea spray, and a small catamaran about two hundred yards out. It turned out to be our favorite shot, and we have it hanging in our living room at Market Square to this day. We finally were able to get back to South Harbor in plenty of time. We actually passed the tow truck from Attalbul on our way back, and we waved to him with a big grin and a honk of the horn. He drove past, a confused look on his face. When we got to the pier, everyone appeared to be on board, the captain waving to us from his place at the big double ship's wheel. The kids were throwing stuff off the aft of the ship into the water, I was hoping it was something edible by fish, my mother was already turning green around the gills, and the party band saw us and struck up some romantic music for our slow troll out of the harbor. We parked the Jeep (I was driving this time!) and grabbed our stuff. The photographer ran to his van and grabbed a few more cameras, and we boarded the HMS Royal Bounty a beautiful three masted French frigate. I sighed as I set foot on the gorgeous vessel, images of naval conflicts of the Patrick O'Brien variety filling my mind's eye. "Welcome aboard, honored couple," the captain said, doffing his hat in salute to the bride and groom. Our friends and family cheered, and my mother even pulled her head away from the rail to give a smile. "Thanks everyone so much for coming!" Billie exclaimed, with a huge grin. "We're sorry we had a little delay, but we had a had some car trouble," she grinned over at the photographer, who looked dreadfully embarrassed. "No worries, love," the captain beamed, "we would've waited all night for you, you beautiful creature!" and our assembled guests laughed. "Thank you captain!" I said, in high spirits. "I think we are ready to get underway!" "Right. ladies, gentlemen. Here we go!" she said, and began barking orders to his bosun, who, along with the crew, broke out the rigging winches and dropped sail for a low speed cruise out of the harbor's no-wake zone. Crew swarmed over the deck, rigging the sails once we got out of the harbor and cleared the reef. I was passionate about the sea, always had been, so this part of our wedding was really for me. Billie accommodated me, since I accommodated her wedding plans, but she seemed to be enjoying the sail as well. The ship rigged for full sail, a gentle northwesterly breeze pushing the big ship through the water at a good clip, about eighteen knots, and the ship rocked on the gentle swells from the wind. I looked over at Billie, holding onto one of the rail, eyes closed, her beautiful auburn hair blowing with the breeze of making full sail. I just marveled at the sight of her, thanking Providence once again for this second chance. She opened her eyes and looked over at me, smiling a contented smile. "Are you enjoying this, honey?" she asked, and my own smile told her exactly that. I walked over to her, still getting my sea legs, and held her around the waist. "Very much," I said back, my arm tightening around her big shoulders. She leaned into me, and we watched the horizon bob as the ship sped across the water. The captain brought the ship about after a few miles, not wanting to get too far from shore, especially with the threat of a storm, and tacked against the wind to take us back to the harbor, where the shipboard ceremony would take place. The quick sail was his treat, he said, and considering how much we paid just to get this ship from Australia in the first place, it wasn't too out of the ordinary to add an amenity like this. We spotted some dolphins playing in the bow wake, hopping and cavorting as the spray of the ship at speed played up over the bow from time to time. I got a couple of nice pictures from the starboard afterdeck, their tails appearing in and out of the wake. All in all, it was a great sail, and over far too soon for my tastes. My mother, however, was in a different state altogether, clutching the rail in a death grip, and looking as miserable as I'd ever seen her. Thanfully for her, the crew began to furl the sails, in that carefully choreographed way a tall ship has. We immediately slowed our speed, and the rocking decreased by a good bit. The ship made its way to just outside the sheltered harbor, beyond the reefs. The ocean floor drops off quickly from the shore, and about a half mile out, we dropped the big starboard anchor, the captain looking at his "fish finder" to make sure we didn't drop it on anything below. He turned the ship into the wind, and the wedding people began setting up for the event. I gave Billie one last kiss and she went below aft, along with her retinue of my family, ready to prep her for the event. I went below forward to put on my tux and the men of the family did as well. As always, I was the first one dressed and ready, and climbed back up onto the deck. There was now a little chapel on the sterncastle, and the captain was at his place as the officiator. The band saw me on deck and struck up the music. I made my way past our gathered family and friends and walked to the raised part of the afterdeck where the captain was. I then awaited the lovely bride. She made her ascent from the forward belowdecks, her bridal party already assembled. She looked absolutely stunning in her wedding gown, a form-hugging contemporary dress, adorned with lace. A single shoulder held the entire thing up and exposed her huge shoulders and arms. Some of the assembled guests remarked on her upper body development, readily visible without sleeves. She opted against the bustier-type: since she was so big up top, she figured it would overwhelm the entire ensemble. She wore a wedding veil that was tied into her hair, which was she wore swept up. The train of the veil covered a lot of her back, which would otherwise be visible since her dress was backless all the way to just above her tiny waist. The band began the wedding march, and Billie made her way to toward me and the captain. She stood eye to eye with me in her four inch heels. Long story short, the wedding went without a hitch, the vows were exchanged, and those immortal words were spoken: "You may kiss the bride" Billie swept me up with her big arms and hoisted me off the ground in her embrace, my feet dangling six inches off the ground. We exchanged the most passionate kiss, and the music started up with gusto, amid cheers and the pronunciation by the captain: "I now pronounce you man and wife!" The sunset came, just ahead of the impending storm, and we got our perfect sunset wedding and kiss, much to Billie's delight. *************** We made our way into the harbor, the storm chasing up to shore, the wind whipping up the surf as we started removing the wedding items from the ship, the crew battening down the ship. Billie astounded everyone, of course, by hauling tons of stuff herself, the heaviest items going easily down the gangplank in her incredible arms. She had since kicked off her heels for better maneuverability, and hiked her calf-length skirts up over her thighs, holding them in place with some of loose nylon cord from the ship, huge thighs bulging with power. At one point she had the two hundred pound cooler of drinks and ice over one shoulder, and the three hundred pound rack of amps for the band over the other, and walked down the plank like nothing was untoward, garnering wide-eyed stares and open mouths as the gangplank sagged ominously. Needless to say, we cleared the ship in minutes, rushing to beat the storm back to the resort. We said our farewells to the captain, and made a token gesture to invite him to the reception, but he politely refused, saying he would stay with the ship to make sure she weathered the storm. Our little caravan of vans and shuttle buses wound their way over the island to our resort. We got there in the nick of time as jagged bolts of lightning flashed across the sky, and the wind whipped up to unsafe conditions outside. The resort staff was ready and waiting, and we bustled our items inside to their ballroom, which was already set up by the Palau wedding service and awaiting the band and items from the ship. Billie again blew everyone away by hauling tons of stuff herself, a one-woman moving crew, and we made our way inside. We seated ourselves at the head table, and the assembled guests took their seats. All of the embarrassing speeches and toasts took place, and we settled down to dinner. "Not a minute too soon," Billie whispered to me, "I'm starving!" "Yeah, you had quite a low intake today, with the photo journey," I replied, and watched as she tore into her filet and lobster with zeal. I started in myself, and was about a third of the way through mine, when the caterer brought out Billie's second lobster and filet. "You better eat up, honey," she said. "If you think last night was good, you just wait until tonight ... that was the practice run!" I smiled and upped the pace. "I'm looking forward to it. It's my goal to not be in traction tomorrow. Do you think I can make it?" I asked, looking over at her. "I give you a fifty percent chance ... " she said, smiling, looking askance at me. "The key is to limber up beforehand." "Are you going to give me a head start?" I asked, sucking the meat out of one of the lobster claws. "It depends on how drunk you get me," she replied, tipping back some champagne. I called over another Magnum of the Rothschild. "That's all I needed to hear," I said, and poured her another glass. She tossed it back and held out her glass for another. I filled it and poured myself one as well. "I'm not sure if I want to get you drunk. You might break me in half by accident." I said, with a laugh. She chuckled, took another drink, and went back to dinner. All the while, the wind outside howled and the rain came down in buckets, as it tends to do on tropical South Pacific islands. The music drowned out most of it, but now and again you could hear it whip up over the music, and I wondered how the sea captain and his crew were holding up. Being docked with huge waves breaking over the ship was a really bad idea, and I wouldn't be surprised if the captain didn't put out to sea to weather the storm somewhere the ship would be less likely to smash into anything. Billie was determined to have a good time, and our guests seemed to be enjoying themselves as well. The kids were dancing with some of our friends, and had pretty much left us alone, and to my knowledge, didn't fight with each other or get into any trouble. I was impressed: they really were on their best behavior. We finished dinner, Billie and I together finished an entire Magnum of Rothschild, and I was definitely feeling it. She was as well, as she was being very flirty with me. We cut the cake, and did all of the standard wedding things. I pulled off the garter from her amazing leg, having some trouble getting the thing over her big calf, and my best friend Steve caught it. I teased him later he would now end up with a hugely muscled woman of his own, and he laughed. "If I get half as much sex as you do, then I'm all for it," he joked, and Billie came over and gave him a big hug, picking his 6'3", 260 lb off the ground like he was a feather. She was definitely feeling good. We danced and had a great time, and about two hours into our reception, the power finally went off from the fury of the storm. The backup generators kicked on, and the band started again, but the management told them to keep the volume down to conserve the generator power. So, things mellowed into slow dancing from there on out. Billie and I spent a lot of time dancing tonight, as you would expect. She was quite a good dancer, very light on her feet for someone who weighed 280 pounds. My friend Steve was shocked she outweighed him when he was so much bigger than her, and she told him jokingly muscle was denser than fat. He took it well, but then he made the mistake of challenging her to arm wrestle. I'm sure he meant it as a joke, but as drunk as Billie was, she accepted right away. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was drunk also, and it was on. I almost don't want to go into the gory details, but when they locked up and his arm extended so much farther than hers, he smirked and said she'll need to put something under her arm to be able to reach. She laughed and said if she did, she might break his arm, so she better just let him have the leverage advantage. Against my better judgement, I called it, and off they went. Steve pushed and struggled, and Billie sat there, holding her arm perfectly straight, not moving a millimeter. He pretty much pushed until he ran out of gas, and then his arm went slack from the exertion. "Honey, why don't you help Steve out?" she asked me. I looked at him, his expression wide-eyed. "You know, you and your big mouth," I said to him, and called over my other friend Kevin, who was there with his girlfriend. She didn't seem to enthusiastic about Kevin spending any time with us, which is weird, because we paid for them to come on this trip. Kevin came over, and he was thankfully the most sober of us. Just like me, he tried to talk Steve out of his fool's errand. Unlike Steve, he had actually come over to visit us a few times, and seen what Billie was capable of, so he had no manly illusions about winning. At 6'1" and a slim 170 pounds, he knew he was no match for either Billie or me in muscle, but he was an athletic guy, running marathons and triathlons. I was drunk enough to humor Steve, though, so I relented and tried to come up with a way to give Billie a bit of a workout and not get Steve hurt. "Okay, so you're sober enough to not break him, right?" I said first off to Billie, who laughed and said she would be gentle. She seemed sincere, and I made her stand up and touch her nose with her eyes closed, and she passed two out of three times, so I judged her to be lucid enough to not get carried away. "Kevin, you hang on to me around my waist, and we'll see if we can keep Steve's arm off the table for a few seconds," I said to him, and he agreed, since he would be in the back. I wrapped both of my hands around Steve's wrist, Kevin grabbed my waist, and I looked over to Billie. "GENTLE, right?" I emphasized to her. She gave me a big drunken grin. "Okay, GO!" I yelled, and braced my legs and pulled with all my might. I could feel Kevin pulling against me, and his shoes bumped up against my own as eh dug in with his longer legs. I could hear Steve grunting at the table, and I looked over at Billie, who was still grinning her drunken grin holding her arm perfectly upright, not straining in the least. She looked over at me, and shot me the sexiest damn look, and started to slowly push Steve's arms to the table. He put his other hand on top of his and Billie's hands and braced against the table with his legs, but his arm kept that same slow steady motion downward. She dragged it out a full sixty seconds, and once his hand pressed lightly on the table, she slowly worked it back up to the starting position. "Can I do it one more time, honey?" she asked Steve. "I have been going crazy not doing any kind of workouts because I promised John I would behave myself. I'm going to have to spend a month getting back to where I was before we started, so a couple more times? Please?" Steve, red-faced from the exertion gave her such an incredulous look that I started laughing and lost my grip on his hand. Kevin and I went falling backward, and Kevin's strategy to not end up on the receiving end of anything physical backfired as I landed on him, knocking the wind out of him. I was drunk enough not to feel it, but he was slow to get up. I apologized and brushed him off, and he went back to his girlfriend, who I realized I didn't like much. She gave him a tongue-lashing which he just took, and he looked back at me with a look that said, "Kill me now". Meanwhile Steve had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that he had no hope of even moving her arm, and Billie had leaned over and gave him a friendly peck on the cheek, and an eyeful of her cleavage. He shot me a sheepish grin, and I shrugged. If she wants to display it, who am I to say no? Besides, I'm not in a position where I could do much about it anyway. I walked over to Steve, who was still just astounded he couldn't move her arm at all. He at one point had both of his hands pushing against her open palm, both legs braced and I just shook my head. He was a good guy, and I loved him like a brother, but he just wasn't the sharpest tack in the box. "Really, man, are you blind? Do you not see her body?" I said to Steve, putting my hands on her huge shoulders. "Show him, honey." Billie, still holding Steve's arm at bay, flexed up the big bicep of her other arm, and his eyes went wide. He had only ever come to visit me at Market Square twice, once when Billie was out of town, and once when she was in her weight room with a client, so he never saw her do her thing. Needless to say, he was cowed by her huge arm, and she reached over and tweaked his nose, laughing. "Did you think these were just for show, sweetie?" she asked him, then turned to me. "John, honey ... do you want to show him our own little arm wrestling type exercise?" "Why not ... I think he's drunk enough that he won't remember, but you never know," I said to her, calling over another bottle of champagne as I walked around to the side of the table. She let Steve's hand go, and he rubbed his arm, watching what I planned to do. Billie put the same arm down that Steve had been struggling against, palm up. I sat my ass on the palm of her hand, and she lifted it off the table, as slowly as she did when she was toying with Steve, and brought it upright, pivoting her wrist as she did so I wouldn't get dumped onto the floor. She then brought her arm back down and repeated the motion a couple of times, smiling over at Steve's open-mouthed gape. "You don't weigh much more than John, Steve. Do you want to try?" she asked him, and he begged off. "I'm convinced," he said, holding up his hands. "Do you think I hurt his feelings?" she asked me, after he wandered off, and I shook my head. "Hell, he'll think he dreamed all of that tomorrow and he'll be rearing to go again, I'm sure," I said. "Hell, that's more of less why I've been avoiding him. I'm guessing you'll have to remind him later on this week before he goes home. Maybe we'll take him with us in the Jeep and you can show him what you can do with that." "Or we can show our guests now," she said with a wink. Uh, oh, I thought, and wondered what she had in mind. "Hey everyone," Billie called out to the remaining guests, only the hardest drinkers. "Would anyone be interested in helping me show Steve why he was having such a hard time arm wrestling me?" Most everyone was drunk, but two of Billie's girlfriends, and my friend Dave did not flee, so we roped them into Billie's little demonstration. The chairs in the ballroom were the standard bent metal tubes with seat cushions bolted to the bend in the frame. They probably could handle about 300 pounds max. Billie grabbed four of them placed them back to back, one set on either side of her, then invited the girls and Dave to come over and sit down. Dave was a single guy, and he was placed near one of Billie's prettier friends, so he had no complaints. The other friend of Billie's sat next to me, a knowing smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm sure you know what she's up to." I said to her, a young woman named Amy. "I do. This is one of her favorite party tricks ... not that she's been to many parties since you two got back together." She replied, sticking her tongue out at me. "I promise, now that we're married, I give Billie full permission to resume her social life," I said with a laugh. "Something tells me, though, that she didn't do a lot of 'Girls Nights Out' when she was single." "No, try as we might, she only had eyes for you, John," she said. Billie had us sit in the chairs in reverse, the seatbacks touching each other. We were asked to hold hands with our partner on each side, and the weights pretty much balanced out: I was 230, my partner Amy 125. Dave was 180, and his partner Dawn was 160 pounds, but it was all in the right places on her six foot frame. "Okay, are you guys ready?" Billie said. "Yeah," we all replied more or less in unison. Billie grabbed the piece of steel tubing on each seatback, two in each hand. She then lifted with just her shoulders, and the seats rose, leaving the ground slowly. She lifted until her arms were parallel with the floor, and Billie looked out at the remaining crowd of semi-sober and non-sober guests with a glowing smile. She loved to show off so much, I thought, and why not? She worked hard for that killer body, so why not be proud of it? In an intimate crowd of friends and family, people were not so judgmental for the most part, or else they most likely wouldn't be here to celebrate our wedding. She set the chairs down and did a set of ten reps, the roughly 350 pounds on either side giving her no problem whatsoever. I doubt she would have enough people left in the room to really test her awesome limits. Steve of course, was just blown away. He must have realized he didn't witness a fraction of Billie's seemingly limitless power, and was humbled. I'm sure it was hard for a big guy like him, former lineman at his AAA university, to realize that a 5'6" woman had enough muscle in her one arm to overpower his entire body easily. I'm guessing he'll renew his gym membership when he gets home. After her demonstration, I hopped up from my seat, gave her a quick peck, and walked back to my own table to find Steve sitting, a beer in his hand. I pulled up a seat next to him. Billie meanwhile was showing off with her friends, each girl's pretty ass in her palm as she alternately raised and lowered the girls to the applause of those sober enough to still put their hands together. She ended her latest feat by holding each girl over her head in each hand, the same big beautiful drunken smile she had ever since she armwrestled Steve, Kevin and me about a half hour ago. The girls up above patted hands like schoolgirls, apparently used to this kind of showing off. The men in the audience were of course stunned by this incredible display of power, some of them cheering her on, others just stunned to silence like Steve was. Billie continued her display by letting the girls play patty cake for a little while, and brought their bodies down to shoulder height, then back up and they played some more. She alternated it to shoulders as she held both girls at arm's length to either side, and lifted them with her shoulders only until they were high above her head. She kept that up until Amy complained about her butt hurting, and Billie let them both down, giving them both a big hug when they touched the ground. Steve sat next to me, mouth agape as it had been since Billie had started her displays of strength, and looked at me. "Dude ... how do you deal with that?" he asked me. "Well, Steve, I really don't have to deal with it." I said. "We are equals; not physically of course, but in our relationship we treat each other equally. She doesn't bully me or make me do anything I don't want to; otherwise I wouldn't have married her." "But I mean ... you know, how can you feel like a man?" he asked, perplexed by the whole situation. "Honestly, man, it just doesn't bother me." I said. "I mean, I was never bothered that you are bigger than me. It's the same thing. There's always going to be someone bigger, or smarter, or better looking, or whatever, right? I just concede that Billie is about ten times stronger than me ... that's just the truth of it, and whether I can cope with it or not ... it just is." I felt very Zen at that moment. I looked at him with a sly smile. "Besides ... you've never had a blow job like the one where your girlfriend is holding you over her head. There's just nothing that compares." I said. I just couldn't help myself. All this stupid talk of manhood or lack thereof ... I really felt like it was beneath me. I don't need to be a giant muscular guy to justify my manhood, but I guess some guys do. I had to laugh at the absurdity of it. 6' 3" is pretty big, but what happens to poor Steve when he meets the guy that's 6'5" and more muscular than him? Will he melt? I told myself I'd have to be in the room when something like that happens. But, thinking about it, I guess I already was ... . "I guess, man, if you like that, then more power to you," he said, after a good deal of drunken contemplation. "I just don't know if I could deal with that." "As I recall, you like really petite women, so you will most likely never have to experience it. I'm not planning on giving up this goddess to anyone ... . I mean, really, Steve ... have you seen her boobs? They are like a work of art." I said that last as she came walking within earshot, and she gave me a playful swat on the arm. It hurt, but I knew that she was touching me at a one out of ten on the Billie power scale. "Are you being a pig, John?" she said, knowing I was teasing her. "Nope. I can't piss off my wife on our wedding night. I think there are rules written somewhere against that," I said to her with a grin. "He was telling me about all of your finer points," Steve said with surprising tact (for him), and got up out of his chair. "Guys, this has definitely been one of the best weddings I've been to, but I think I've had it," he said, and took his leave. Billie sat down next to me, and I passed the remainder of the second Rothschild to her, not having bothered with glasses after a while. She tipped a little back, and looked over at me. "Do I freak him out?" she asked me, and I was too drunk to not be honest. "I'm sure you do. He's never said it to me, but I know he's wondering what I'm doing getting married to you," I said back with a little too much candor. "You're not wondering are you, John?" she asked me; a drunken melodrama was on her face that only really good champagne can produce. "Honey, do you really need to ask me that?" I said back to her. "As many times as I've told you you're the woman of my dreams, and you have doubts?" "No, I really don't, John," she said. "I don't at all. I just sometimes wonder. We don't have friends over a lot, and I think your friends avoid me, and your family doesn't come visit much, so I wonder if sometimes you will put up with it for only so long." "Oh, honey," I said, taking her hand in mine, "you do realize how blazingly fast this past year has gone, don't you? I don't think we have spent more than two days apart in the last year, except for your one trip to Europe. And for the first four months after we got engaged, I think we only ever left the apartment to get food and for you to meet your clients. I think everyone just realizes we need our space as a couple right now. I'm sure everything will change after we're married." "I know you're right, but as strong as I make this body, I can't get over some of the things in my head, you know?" she said, leaning into me. I put my arms around her, and held her tight. About four hours after the start of the reception, the storm outside began to subside, and the dull roar of the wind softened to the point where you couldn't hear it over the music, which had long ago switched over to my friend Eric's iPod. The band, and most of the guests, had retired by that time, and only a few diehards were left. Billie and I were still finishing off the second Rothschild, and most of my friends had gone to bed, offering their congratulations and gotten hugs and handshakes in return. My family had all departed, except for the kids, who were not drinking and surfing through Eric's iPod for something they could listen to, versus the "crap" we liked. I pulled a very drunk Billie to her feet, put her arm over my shoulder and started to carry her to our room. She surprised me by being steadier than I would have expected, and pulled me into a passionate kiss. "Thank you for a wonderful wedding, John," she said breathily to me as I carried her big body to our room. "Will it strike a blow to women's lib if I carried you over the threshold?" I asked her, and she laughed. "If it did, I wouldn't have taken your last name, you goofball," she said, and I swiped the keycard into the door. I pushed the door open, and carried her in, laying her on our bed. Her skirts rode up on her dress, exposing the lovely expanse of her huge thighs, her pretty lacy white panties just peeking out from above. I bent down and kissed her on the lips, and she pulled me down on top of her, my chest pressed against her massive breasts. She put her hands behind her head, and took a deep breath, raising my body up a couple of inches. "Now I have you right where I want you, baby," she said, and arched her back. I felt every ridge of her incredible abs as she pressed them into me, my feet lifting off the bed. I ran my hands up the sides of her body, starting at her full hips, and sliding them slowly up over her chiseled obliques and intercostals, over the huge swell of her breasts, and up to the shoulders, ending at her gigantic biceps. "I'm not sure if you like my boobs more, or my arms," she laughed, and flexed of her huge arms for my enjoyment. "Do I have to pick a favorite?" I said and buried my face in the front of her dress. "Nope, you don't have to pick a favorite, you can worship all of me just the same," she said, and lifted her ass off the bed, spreading her legs open so mine fell in between. I worked my arms around her back and slid the zipper down on her dress, my face still buried in her tits. When I felt the zipper hit the bottom, moved my hands around the the front, brining my face up for some air, and moved to the single shoulder strap. Billie curled her torso toward the opposite shoulder and lifted up on her strapless arm, hanging my body off her own, and I worked the shoulder strap off her shoulder. I actually sat up on her belly as she held herself off the bed and worked the dress down over her huge chest, pulling it up to expose her perfect torso. She worked her arm out of the shoulder strap and placed it back down on the bed, then settled back down so I could pull her dress the rest of the way off. I slid down off her waist and took the dress with me, sliding it over those huge thighs, and down to her feet. Then I moved up to her waist and released the catches on her garter. I slid her stockings off one by one, marveling that she could actually buy nylons to go over those gigantic thighs, each one thicker than my chest. I planted kisses on her thighs as I slid the stockings off, and played with her feet, which made her giggle. If I ever had to fight for my life against this woman, I would start with her ticklish feet, I thought. Not that I would ever get the chance, if it ever came to that. "God, John, you make me feel so incredible." She said, as I worked my hands and lips over her body. "You make me feel so sexy." She looked down at me, quite a feat considering the sheer amount of breast that separated her line of sight from my own. "You know, I built this body thinking of you, and I had always hoped to show you just what I had done, just for you. I always thought I would settle for someone else, but I never wanted to. All of my friends kept fixing me up with guys who liked muscle, but I just never could get you out of my head." She said, and I could tell the tears were starting to flow. "I never gave up on the hope that one day you would meet up with me and see this body that I built for you, John. Everything I have is because of you, and everything I did is for you. For us. I love you so much," she said, and I felt her body shake as the combination of the moment, the wedding, the alcohol, all hit her. I worked my way back up, climbing those incredible peaks, until we were face to face. I wiped the tears from her eyes, and the look of love on her face just made me melt. "Honey, you don't know how honored I was when I found that out." I said to her. "I was so in love with you back when we first got together, when it felt like the entire world conspired to keep up apart. After we parted, I just felt like we weren't fated to be together, and I resigned myself to finding second best. I made a bad choice, and I really don't know if it was because I felt I needed someone in my life to fill the void, or if I really felt like I loved her, but she just wasn't you. I think it must have shown through, because my ex- always acted like she was trying to unseat you ... and the scary part was that she just never could. I know that you built this heavenly body for me, Billie, and I want to show you just how much I appreciate it. And I'll keep showing you every day for the rest of our lives, if you'll let me." I gave her a hard kiss on the lips, and then went back to worshipping her unbelievable body, working back down over her huge breasts and her stomach, teasing her pussy a little with my tongue, then working down her legs, planting kisses on every muscle that I found under my lips. As I worshipped her body, I thought back to all the times in the last year she had shown me the incredible strength she had built after I had gone, and how eager she was to show me just how powerful she was. I thought about first time she picked me up with one arm over her head, and the look in her eyes when she realized how easy it was for her. The fact that she trained specifically for the fulfillment of my fantasies still makes me shake my head in wonder at my good luck, and that she measures her progress in how many of me she can do in whatever exercise she does. The next memory that made me smile I had while I was running my hands over her huge calves, kissing them, first one, then the other, barely able to wrap both arms around them when she put them together for me to more easily worship them at the same time. She realized that holding me with one arm was too easy. We were at the point in our relationship where any excuse would send us to bed, or any location was the next spot where we made love ... it was like our first engagement all over again. But she realized that she could get a good tricep workout if she held me with one arm, then bend her arm toward her body, planting a kiss on me when I got close enough. The workout came when she would extend her arm again, working her tri and holding me again a foot off the ground. I finished my worship of her calves, and started up onto her massive thighs, my hips sitting on her ankles and I tended to her gigantic muscular quads. She picked up her legs off the ground and held my body at a 15 degree angle, and I slid my body back as far as I could to give her a little resistance, not that it would matter much. She could easily press the weight of the Jeep from today with her incredible legs, so I would barely register to her as resistance, and her pelvic muscles were equally as unbelievable in their incredible strength. She had showed me that one time where she briefly held my body weight up with the strength of her vaginal muscles, that time holding my body with her hands after a short time more because I was in pain than because she suffered from any fatigue. She later showed me just what her pussy was capable of when she picked up twice my body weight by one of her curling bars with about four hundred pounds on the one half, the plate slid all the way up to over 50 percent of the length of the bar. She squatted down, gripped the bar in her pussy, and lifted with her legs, and up went over twice my body weight. I never knew why she would ever want her vagina that strong, but I never complained when that incredible pussy massaged up and down my cock as we made love, as lightly or as strongly as I liked. Her thighs were so big, it took a long time to cover all of that ground, and every time I would move from one muscle group to another, Billie would flex it up for me, and her thigh would swell up to incredible proportions. I remember the first time I was between her thighs, our third date. I came over and she was on me before I even got in the door, yanking me through the doorway until I was sprawled on the floor of her living room. She just jumped on top of me, her huge thighs going around my head. I just remember thinking how gigantic they were and how they completely covered my head. My arms went around them as her pussy worked its way down to my face. She held my body with those massive thighs all afternoon that day, and I was helpless against them, as I was against every other part of her body. So many good memories, and it's only been a year, I thought as I started my way back up her abs with my lips. Her big thighs were wrapped around my chest, and she was now guiding me up her body at her pace, just slowly moving me upward, stopping when she felt a spot needed a little extra attention, the whole time with her hands behind her head, me unable to see her face over her gigantic breasts. When I made it to her breasts, she had me spend a long time on each one, teasing her big nipples to stand proudly on her chest. Her tits were so big that I had to climb up over them like mountains, and they stood so high that if I didn't know better from so much intimate contact I would swear they were fake. She would tease me by arching her back and making me climb even higher to get to those huge nipples, and the look in her eyes told me she loved to tease me and show me how strong her body was. I loved how she would move her pecs and make them dance and jump for me, my eyes mesmerized by the motion. The best memory of her using her breasts against me in one of her feats of strength was the one time when she was wearing a pair of platform heels that made her rise up like a goddess above me, and how her boobs were just under the height of my head. She pushed me against the wall, her huge breasts in her hands, and just pressed my entire face into her cleavage and picked my whole body up off the ground with her hands pressing into her boobs. I brought my hands up to her boobs, trying to hold on to keep the pressure off my neck, and she just laughed and laughed as I struggled. "Oh, John ... don't you realize you don't even stand a chance against my boobs? I could probably overpower you with just one of them." She said as I hung off her chest. She gave it a try and let me down for a second, only to press one of her huge breasts against my face, her hands on either side of it. Her breast covered my entire face and pushed around until you could only see the back of my head as it was pressed into the wall. Then, as if I needed one more example of her limitless strength, she slid her hands under that huge breast and lifted it up, and my body rose as she pushed her big tit up as high as it would go. I got my body about four inches off the ground by sliding my body upward with her tit, and I pushed and pushed against her body, unable to breathe. I held out for a couple of minutes and then ceased my motion, and she let me go, my body sliding down the wall. I felt her strong hands grip my biceps and stand me back up, and her voice came to me as if she was standing at the other end of a long tunnel. "There really wasn't any question of that was there ... maybe next time I won't use my hands," she teased. Then she pressed her tits together and forced my head down deep into her cleavage, cutting off my air and filling my mouth with all of that breast flesh, holding me there until I about blacked out for the last time that day, then lifting me up again to her waiting mouth. I kept thinking about all of the wonderful strength teases she used to drive me wild, how her body was so powerful my weight wasn't even a challenge to her, and how she looked for different ways to push herself by lifting my body. I think her favorite lift was when she would lift my body in the palm of her hand. This was always a treat for when I was good to her or when she got her way, and she always asked me how I would like her to lift me, and do it as slow or as fast as I liked, and she could do it so many times I would wear out from keeping my balance before she would. She would always laugh and say it was so easy to get me excited, and then use that super powered arm to take me into her mouth and finish me, or push my cock into her boobs, just using her one arm. The other arm she always cocked for me to feel her strength, or she would place it on her hip to show me just how easy it was. I worked my way up from her breasts now, her hands on my ass guiding me to her waiting mouth. My own hands rested on her huge arms, one of my favorite places for them to be, and she flexed her arms hard, making those gigantic muscles stand out for me to feel. I rubbed my hands all over them, feeling their incredible hardness, and soon my lips followed. She brought each big arm up to my face, and I gave them my undivided attention. Of all the parts of her body, Billie is the most proud of her arms. She said when she first started she had the easiest time getting size from her arms, especially her biceps. They just took off once she started weightlifting, and she really appreciated them. She would actually wear clothes to show them off until they became so large that people would comment. When they were toned and athletic she always wore sleeveless blouses and dresses to show them off, but once they went from toned to big and bulky, she dressed them down. My favorite memory of her arms was the first time when she thought it would be fun to exercise with only me as her resistance, and she used to think up things to do with "live weights" that would challenge her, like standing on her weight bench with my hands in her one hand, doing tricep extensions over her head, my body sliding up her back, my hard cock rubbing against her perfect round ass. And the one amazing time when she actually did that lift and guided my cock right up into her, lifting my body into her pussy with her one arm, just those little short isolations where she lifted me until I was tight in her pussy, then back down until just the head of my cock was in her, then back up, the whole time moving her hips into me. I wanted to let go and grab onto her ass so bad when she did that, or touch that incredible tricep as it blew up to such massive proportions. I only held out for ten minutes that first time, but after I looked at her smiling face, I wouldn't have been surprised if she could have kept going for another hour or more. That first time I was actually surprised I didn't outlast her super powered arm. Now, I know for a fact that I couldn't, as she could probably do tricep extensions over her head with my body weight all afternoon. She is very proud of her arms, and she loves to use them on me. One of her favorite things to do is stand in front of me and take my hips in her powerful grip, then just throw me upward as high as she can with her arms and shoulders only. One of the reasons she had the ceiling in her weight room raised up to double its previous height was for just that reason. She recently was able to get me to the level of the windows with one arm. Thankfully she practiced on those big heavy bags until she got to that height, then of course it was my turn. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass to stop what I was doing and become a human shotput, but I never minded after her latest success, and the insane sex that would follow. "Oooohhh, God, Paul ... ." She moaned as I finished my work on her arms, "I am so fucking wet! I am putty in your hands." "That is the hardest putty I have ever felt," I said, giving her right arm one last squeeze, not making a dent, and slid my hands down to wrap around her neck. She brought her big arms around my body, pressing me hard into her huge tits, and kissed me forcefully, her tongue working its way into my mouth. "I'll keep getting stronger for you, honey, and I'll make you as happy as you make me, for better or worse," she said, rubbing my body into her tits. "I'll get so strong that your whole body won't be as powerful as my smallest finger! I'll get more powerful than any ten people ... and I'll do it all for you. I'll devote my body to your every whim." She moved her hands down to my hips, raised my hips up in her strong grip ... holding me above her body, my chest still touching her huge breasts. She rubbed my body all over her tits, moving me over her like I was light as a feather. She lay below me, and I felt my entire body slid up over her breasts until my cock was wedged in between them. She squeezed them together with her elbows, and they pushed my body further up as they rose. Her elbows sunk deep into her tits, and the big nipples traced lines on my hips as she slid my cock in and out of the deep valley between her incredible breasts. "Do you like that, baby?" She said, effortlessly manipulating my body, her hands held tightly on my hips. "So much, Billie! I would never leave this bed with you if we could," I said, the intense sensations in my body raging in my like a wildfire. She continued rubbing my cock in her cleavage, pushing them together so tightly with her arms, her huge limbs swelling up with their exertion of holding my body up. Except for her gigantic tits, my body didn't make contact with the bed or her body for at least a half hour, and her grip on me was actually getting a little painful, but she was so into getting me off, I just went with it. I think she could tell her hands were hurting my hips though, because she pushed my body all the way up off her, and moved her hands to underneath me, one on my chest and one down below my stomach. Then she slowly swung my body around until my head pointed at her feet, and guided my face up to her wet pussy. I felt her lower me, and my face dove down into her, my cock guiding into her open mouth. Billie's hands spread wide to distribute my weight and just gently pressed my up and down, my cock sliding into her mouth all the way to my pelvis. She took all eight inches down her throat, my stomach laying on her huge tits like two pillows, and lifted me up out of her mouth again and again. As she lowered me down, I would stab my tongue into her fat pussy lips, flicking the tip against her clit, and then I would rise back up. My hands rested on top of her huge tits, pinching and pulling the big nipples, and I could hear her moans as she kept sliding my cock in and out of her mouth. I felt her body tense up, her immense thighs on either side of my head, as she had a little orgasm from my tongue working her clit, and her powerful body shook from the sensation, shaking me against her hard body. She removed her hands, and I lay with my face buried in her pussy, tongue deep inside her, her powerful pussy muscles contracting strongly on it. Her juices gushed over my tongue, the sweetest nectar. She slid my body down a little further, my head going between her gigantic thighs, and pushed my cock into her huge tits again, her hand reaching down to get some of the wetness from her pussy and rub it up and down my cock. Then she held my legs in place in her strong grip and I felt her alternately flex each super powered pectoral muscle, sliding her huge tits against my cock, one up, one down, rubbing my cock stuck in her cleavage. This was the first time she had ever done this, and the sensation was absolutely incredible. She tightened the fit by pushing her tits together with her elbows again, and kept up the flexing, my hips rising up off her, suspended up on her incredible tits. I wrapped my arms around her huge thighs, which flexed up powerfully, lifting my body up on their massive forms, and she increased the pressure on my cock, my body being tossed around up on top of her tits, the friction on my cock increasing as she kept up her flexing. I yelled at the top of my lungs and blew a huge load of come down into that incredible cleavage, and I heard Billie yell, "Yes! That's it, baby! Come for me." I must have come for five minutes with my hips high up on Billie's incredible tits. She had finished her pec flexing, and my body settled into the softness of her breasts. I was wiped out, but this wasn't exactly the most cuddly position, so I worked my way back around until we were face to face, our arms around each other. We lay in each others arms for a while, just talking, totally comfortable and relaxing until the urge came upon us again, and we made love, truly consummating our vows. Billie rode atop me, that glorious body rising up like the goddess she was over me, and I got to feel every sinew as she rode to climax. We were up most of the night, and slept late into the morning, our first as man and wife ... . Or maybe as wife and man?