“Muscles in Paradise”


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:

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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.


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.”


“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.


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)