The morning after our latest patrol—where we'd stopped a gang of thugs trying to hijack a delivery truck in the industrial district—I woke to Elena stirring beside me. Her naked body was pressed against mine, her full breasts soft against my chest, her curves draped over the sheets like a living sculpture. The sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden highlights on her bronze skin. She smiled sleepily, her hand sliding down my stomach to grip my morning hardness. "Mmm... ready for me already?" she whispered, stroking slowly, her voice husky with desire.
I groaned, pulling her on top—kissing her deeply, hands squeezing her ass. "Always for you, future wife." We made love slowly—her riding with gentle rolls, breasts bouncing softly as she moaned, "I love you... so much... fuck me like this forever." I thrust up—deep, controlled—her super muscles clenching in waves. "Yes... right there... harder... make your fiancée cum." Orgasms built—hers hitting first, pussy fluttering as purple sparks danced, milking me until I exploded inside her. "Fuck... Elena... take it all."
We lay tangled afterward—laughing, talking. But one question nagged at me since Tokyo: the name "Nee." Riftmaster's taunt echoed. Over breakfast—coffee and toast in the kitchen, her in my oversized shirt that barely covered her curves—I asked. "Elena... about yesterday. The name 'Nee.' What does it mean? Who was he?"
She paused—cup halfway to her lips, eyes distant. "Nee... it's a nickname from my old life. Before all this." She set the cup down, voice soft. "I didn't tell you because... it was a different me. Buried."
I reached for her hand. "Tell me now. I want to know everything about you."
She sighed—leaning back, her shirt riding up to expose her thigh. "Before the lab accident... before Thick Chick... I was just Nee' Ramirez . A scientist, working on quantum biology. We were a group of volunteers—eight of us, including me. We underwent experiments to create superhumans—enhancing DNA with exotic energy from an artifact. It was classified, dangerous, but we believed in it. Pushing human limits."
I listened—heart tightening. "And Riftmaster?"
"His real name was Jason. Riftmaster... Jason Reeves. He was one of the volunteers. We had a short relationship—a few months. It was intense, passionate... but mostly driven by the adrenaline of the project. We were young, ambitious. He was charming, smart—always pushing boundaries. But the lab exploded. The artifact overloaded. I thought everyone died. The other seven volunteers—gone. I was the sole survivor, fused with the power. I faked my death, became Elena Voss, Thick Chick. Jason... I mourned him. Thought he was dead."
I felt a little upset—jealousy flickering, but mostly hurt that I didn't know this about her. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? We've shared everything—battles, the void, our bodies... but not this?"
She looked away—tears glistening. "I buried it. That life ended in fire. With you... it's new. Clean. I didn't want old ghosts haunting us."
I squeezed her hand. "I'm not haunted. Just... wish I'd known. I love all of you—the past too."
She smiled weakly. "Thank you. But Jason... if he's alive, changed... it's complicated."
I wanted to help her unwind—pull her close, make love until the shadows faded. "Let me help you forget for a bit," I said, standing, pulling her up. My hands slid under her shirt, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples. "I need you."
She paused—gently pushing my hands away. "Not now, Alex. I'm... not in the mood." Her voice was distant, eyes clouded.
That worried me. Does she miss him? Is she having doubts about marriage? "Okay... no pressure. I love you."
She kissed my cheek. "Love you too. Just need time to process."
Instead, I went downstairs—sat on the couch, scrolling mindlessly. But thoughts swirled—Jason, Nee, the past she hadn't shared. Arousal mixed with frustration; I pulled out my phone, opening incognito mode for porn. Videos loaded—women moaning, bodies writhing. I stroked slowly—imagining Elena, her curves, her moans—but doubts crept in. Was this the end? My session was interrupted when Elena came down—eyes widening slightly. "Oh... sorry. I didn't mean to—"
I fumbled to close the tab—embarrassed. "Elena... I—"
She smiled—sad, teasing. "Come on about me touching myself? It's not every day," she said lightly. But it's used to be, I thought. Suddenly, I was filled with uncertainty. Our intimacy had been constant—now, gaps were forming.
We talked awkwardly—about dinner, the weather—but the rift felt wider.
Suddenly, Riftmaster made a move again. Alerts pinged—splits in the ground widening across cities, earthquakes rumbling. "He's back," Elena said, suiting up. "Come on."
But as we flew, uncertainty gnawed. We arrived in France—Riftmaster continuing to split the earth, almost like he had no plan, just doing this all for attention. Fissures cracked Paris streets, the Eiffel Tower tilting.
Elena turned to me. "Fall back. Let me talk to him."
"What? No—"
"Trust me." She flew ahead—confronting him mid-air. "Jason... stop this."
He laughed—hovering. "Nee... finally alone."
They talked—voices low, then flew off somewhere together—disappearing into a rift.
I was completely lost and emotional—hovering alone, heart shattering. Was I going to lose Elena, my world, my future wife?