The morning after Elena's full recovery felt like the start of a new era. We woke tangled in sheets, her voluptuous body pressed against mine, her breath warm on my neck. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, highlighting the curve of her hip and the swell of her breasts. I stirred first, my hand sliding down her back to squeeze her ass—firm, perfect, the kind that made me hard just thinking about it. She moaned softly, eyes fluttering open. "Mmm... good morning, fiancé," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep and desire.
"Good morning, future wife," I replied, rolling her onto her back and kissing her deeply. Our lips moved in perfect sync, tongues dancing as my hand cupped her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it hardened. She arched into me, her pussy already wet against my thigh. "I could wake up like this every day."
"You will," she promised, pulling me closer. "Now fuck me... slow at first. Make me feel every inch."
I slid into her—deep, deliberate—her super muscles clenching around me like velvet fire. "God... you're so tight... so wet for me." She gasped, legs wrapping my waist, pulling me deeper. "Yes... just like that... I love how you fill me... my hero." We moved together—passionate, unhurried—her breasts bouncing with each thrust, our auras flickering violet and purple. "Faster... harder... cum inside me... I need it." Orgasms built—hers hitting first, pussy fluttering as she came, "Alex! Yes... I love you!" I followed—thrusting deep, spilling into her with a groan.
We lay there—sweaty, satisfied—talking about the future. "One year since I first saw you over the fence," I said, tracing her curves. "Engaged now. Feels right."
She smiled—eyes shining. "It does. The public will go crazy when they find out."
They did.
The excitement over our engagement hit like a nova blast. We announced it quietly at first—a joint post on our official hero accounts: "From neighbors to partners in every way—Thick Chick and Loverman are engaged!" The internet exploded. Headlines screamed "Earth's Power Couple Ties the Knot!" Social media flooded with congratulations: "Finally! You two are goals!" Fans created art—us kissing in space, fighting side by side with rings on our fingers. Kids drew pictures; celebrities sent gifts. Even skeptics softened: "If they can save the world, they can make marriage work."
We did minor missions amid the buzz. One afternoon, a bank robbery in downtown—four armed thugs holding hostages. I flew in first—violet blasts disarming two, strength pinning the leader. Elena arrived seconds later—super speed blurring her to the last, knocking him out with a precise kick. Hostages cheered: "Thick Chick! Loverman! Congrats on the engagement!"
"Thanks," Elena laughed, helping a woman to her feet. "Stay safe out there."
Back home, the excitement fueled our passion. "They love us together," she said, pushing me onto the couch, suit unzipped. "Now show me how much you love me." She rode me hard—breasts bouncing, pussy clenching. "Yes... deeper... fuck your fiancée!" I thrust up—hands on her ass, "You're mine... always... cum for me." Orgasms crashed—sparks flying.
Another mission: night patrol, gangsters trafficking in the docks. Elena took point—purple nova lighting the shadows, disarming five in a flash. I backed her—violet pulse stunning the rest. Dockworkers applauded: "You two are unstoppable! When's the wedding?"
"Soon," I winked.
Home again—sex immediate. In the shower—her against the tiles, legs wrapped, "Fuck me... make me scream... I love you." Thrusts deep—water cascading. "Yes... harder... cum inside... your future wife needs it!"
We even ventured to space for "minor threats"—asteroid scouts on collision courses. On one, she stripped me—riding with force that cracked the rock. "Destroy it with me... cum while we shatter it!" Bounces like car crashes, my thrusts launching us—nova climax pulverizing the asteroid to dust.
The public was excited—polls showed 90% approval. "They're our heroes—and now our couple goals!"
But one evening, after a quick thug bust (me stopping a carjacking solo), I returned home to Elena waiting—serious. "We need to talk about us. The engagement... it's perfect. But the missions—let's keep rotating. Build trust slowly."
I nodded—happy, but the minor separation stung. Still, our nights were ours—loads of passionate sex, craving each other like air.
Everything felt perfect.
The world had fallen head over heels for the wedding of Thick Chick and Loverman. It started the moment we announced it publicly—a simple joint post on our hero accounts: "From neighbors to partners in every way… Thick Chick & Loverman are engaged." Within minutes, the internet detonated. #ThickChickWedding trended globally. Fan art flooded timelines—us kissing in orbit, exchanging vows on the moon, battling villains with rings glinting on our fingers. Talk shows dissected every detail: "The age gap is 13 years—does it matter when you're saving the planet?" Tabloids ran headlines like "Superhero Soulmates: The Wedding the World Needs." Kids drew pictures of us in crayon; couples posted videos renewing their own vows inspired by our story. Even world leaders sent congratulations—some half-joking about inviting themselves.
We were everywhere. Merchandise appeared overnight: engagement-themed action figures, couple T-shirts ("Thick Chick + Loverman = Unstoppable"), even wedding-themed energy drinks ("Nova Vows"). Crowds gathered whenever we patrolled—cheering, asking for selfies, shouting, "When's the big day?!" We soaked it in—smiling for cameras, signing autographs, letting the love wash over us like a tide. For the first time since the clones, we felt… celebrated, not feared.
And privately? We were happier than ever. The engagement had unlocked something primal—we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Minor missions became foreplay; home became a playground. We didn't stop fucking. Ever.
One crisp afternoon, after I'd busted a gang of carjackers in the suburbs (violet blasts flipping their getaway SUV, strength pinning the leader to the hood), Elena met me on a rooftop. She was already unzipped—suit peeled down to her waist, breasts bare and heaving from her own patrol. "You were so hot down there," she purred, pushing me against the chimney. "I've been wet thinking about it all day."
I groaned—hands immediately on her tits, squeezing, thumbs flicking her nipples. "Fuck, Elena… you're killing me." She dropped to her knees—unzipping me, taking my cock deep in one smooth motion. Super speed blurred her head, throat relaxing to swallow every inch. "God… your mouth… so hot… suck me like that… yes…" She hummed—vibrations ripping through me—until I came hard, flooding her throat. She swallowed every drop, looking up with wicked eyes. "Good boy. Now fuck me."
I lifted her—legs wrapping my waist—thrusting into her against the ledge. Her pussy gripped like velvet steel—super muscles clenching with every stroke. "Yes… deeper… fuck your fiancée… make me scream!" I pounded—each slam shaking the rooftop, her breasts bouncing wildly. "So tight… so perfect… I love you… cum for me!" She shattered—nova sparks exploding outward, pussy fluttering as she came, screaming my name. I followed—thrusting deep, filling her as violet energy surged to meet her purple glow.
We didn't stop. That night, back home, we fucked in every room. Kitchen—her bent over the counter, me taking her from behind, spanking her ass until it glowed red. "Yes… harder… mark me… I'm yours!" Living room floor—her riding reverse, ass bouncing like in our space nights, "Slap it… fuck me like you own me!" Bedroom marathon—slow missionary, eyes locked, "I love you… so much… cum with me." Orgasms endless—auras syncing, violet-purple light filling the room.
The public excitement only fueled us. One evening patrol—together for once—we stopped a warehouse heist. Thugs scattered as Elena's nova lit the sky, my blasts pinning them. A crowd gathered—cheering, phones out. "Wedding when?!" someone yelled.
"Soon," Elena laughed, kissing me in front of them—masks off, lips crashing. The crowd roared.
Home again—sex immediate. "They love us," she moaned as I fucked her against the wall. "But I love this more." Thrusts deep—her pussy clenching, "Yes… harder… fill your wife-to-be!"
We even celebrated in space—spotting a "minor" asteroid threat, we flew to it. Naked, weightless—she rode me with force that cracked the rock. "Fuck me… destroy it with me… cum while we shatter it!" Bounces like car crashes, my thrusts launching us—nova climax pulverizing the asteroid to dust.
The world watched—telescopes capturing our silhouettes against the stars. Headlines: "Superhero Sex in Space? Earth's Power Couple Can't Get Enough!"
We laughed—high on love, high on power.
But one night—after another intense session (her on top, riding slow then fast, "Cum inside… I want your baby someday… fuck me like you mean it"), we lay tangled, auras fading.
A distant rumble shook the Earth—low, deep, like the planet itself groaning.
Elena sat up—eyes narrowing. "Something's… waking up."
We flew outside—hovering above the house. The ground trembled—cracks spiderwebbing across the lawn, then the street, then the city.
Right at the end, something came out of the Earth that had been resting.
A colossal fissure split open downtown—dark energy pouring out. From the depths rose a new threat—ancient, massive, unlike anything we'd faced.
The next war had begun.