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Honeymoon

Written by xoronewithnature :: [Thursday, 30 March 2006 14:50] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 01 January 2013 14:00]

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Honeymoon

 

by Xoronewithnature

 

 

 

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WRITTEN FOR SGI WORKSHOP 2.4

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It had been two years, three months, seven hours, forty-three minutes and seventeen seconds since their first date. Jenny's memory was impeccable on this point. He'd been trying to catch her eye at work for at least a month before he had gathered the courage to ask her out.

 

It had now been eighteen hours, five minutes and six seconds since their honeymoon started and her fiance – husband she corrected herself giddily – was lazing on a sun chair on a deserted stretch of white sand beach.

 

Jenny, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. She had been during the whole eight hour flight – five hundred mile per hour was just so painfully slow – and now couldn't even relax in their own private little stretch of paradise. She twisted at her wedding band – her heart still leaped when she looked down at it. He had to know now, for better or worse and all that.

 

“Honey, I've got something important to tell you.”

 

He eyes just remained shut behind his sunglasses. “I'm all ears.”

 

Best to just be direct. “I'm Ms. Might.”

 

“Wouldn't it be Mrs. Might?” He seemed to be awful blase about the news.

 

She hadn't thought of that – it would be Mrs. Might. Her head swum a little at the idea.

 

“So you could lift the resort off its foundation and fly off with the whole thing.”

 

She studied the white tower that rose up behind the palm trees. “Probably not, I don't think the building would stay together if I tried that.”

 

He laid still, hands behind his head. “I've got a confession to make to – I cheated on you with Ms. Marple.”

 

The boss' secretary. The news crashed down on her. She knew they'd had some bad weeks – she always seemed to disappear at the most inconvenient times. There was the weekend where she'd had to stand him up for dinner because Magmor, the living volcano, had awoken and was moving toward Japan. Or the time that Dr. Nihilo had almost destroyed the world – and her – with his singularity device. That had made her late to the theater. Or the time that the leader of the Cosmopolitan Gang temporarily gained the Bracers of Infinite Power and …

 

Wait. He hated Ms. Marple. And she was like sixty.

 

Bob was chuckling to himself. “Ms. Might. That's funny.”

 

She groaned inside. This was just so typical. It was a scene she'd played out a million times. She would float down from the sky, catch the thieves red handed.

 

“Stop what you're doing and put down the weapons.”

 

They wouldn't listen either. It was if, inside, they didn't believe she was actually Ms. Might either. They'd unload their guns at her, and the bullets would ricochet harmlessly off her impenetrable skin.

 

Or they'd try to escape in their getaway car and seemed shocked as she calmly proceeded to catch up with them, lift their car, and fly them to the authorities.

 

But by far the most embarrassing was when they insisted on swinging at her. Please. She always tried to yield a little, so they didn't do any permanent damage to themselves in their attempt, but just enough so they'd remember not to do it again.

 

She sighed. If that's what it takes so be it. She strode over to him, stood so her shadow was cast over his face.

 

He finally opened his eyes. She didn't need her x-ray vision to see the effect her body was having on him. She had the toned arms, chiseled stomach and shapely legs of an athlete. And she was wearing her skimpiest bikini for the trip. Her top clung desperately to her large breasts. Bob had once commented that they seemed to defy gravity the way they protruded from her chest. He wasn't far off the mark. Her bikini bottom was even more revealing. The thin strip that barely covered her front disappeared between the rock hard slabs of her perfectly shaped butt.

 

Her long blonde hair clung to her, still wet from her earlier dip in the ocean. Her lips were full and red and now pulled into an expression that bespoke grim determination. It was her remarkable blue eyes where Bob's visual exploration finally ended.

 

She reached down and grabbed one corner of his lounge chair. He sat up suddenly as the whole chair rose, and even though reclining he came eye to eye with his new wife.

 

“Now that you mention it, you do look a little like her.”

 

“Thank you for noticing.”

 

She gathered him up in her arms and embraced him. His hands began to explore, and for the first time started to squeeze hesitantly. He reached down behind her, experimentally tried to grab her ass. It was unyielding.

 

He looked down at her breasts.

 

She rolled her eye. “Yes, you can feel them too.”

 

He slipped his hands under the bikini cups. They were yielding at first, then steel. Jenny looked back up at the resort looming in the distance.

 

“Let's go somewhere a little more private.”

 

She held him tight, and he hung on for dear life as the world ripped away. Despite the violence of the trip Jenny stayed firm and steady.

 

When they stopped their were standing on another beach and there was no hotel to be seen. The sand was raw and black, it looked volcanic. The full moon hung over the ocean casting its dim light over the entire scene.

 

“Where are -”

 

Jenny slid a finger over Bob's mouth. In the distance she heard an emergency broadcast. Something about an incoming alien armada. She sighed. It could wait an hour.

 

“Shh … don't worry about that, just pay attention and I'll show you how to scratch a super girl’s itch.”

 

Or two. Maybe two hours.

 

They floated up together, gently this time into the star filled sky. A second later Jenny's bathing suit fluttered down and settled on the empty beach.

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