The week before our wedding was a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. The public was obsessed—social media exploded with fan theories about the ceremony, from "Will they say vows on the moon?" to "Superhero honeymoon in space?" Tabloids ran daily countdowns, and crowds gathered outside our house, waving signs like "Thick Chick & Loverman Forever!" Kids sent drawings of us kissing amid asteroids; celebrities offered venues and designers for free. Even world leaders chimed in, with the President tweeting, "Congratulations to Earth's greatest duo—may your marriage be as unbreakable as your heroism." We were back on top—trust restored, fear forgotten. Elena and I reveled in it, our bond stronger than ever, but the real thrill was in the private moments, where passion ruled.
That morning—one week to the day—I woke to Elena's lips trailing down my neck, her hand already stroking my cock to full hardness. She was naked, her voluptuous body pressed against mine, breasts heavy and soft against my chest. "Wake up, fiancé," she purred, her voice low and seductive, her pussy grinding against my thigh. "I need you inside me before the day starts."
I groaned, hands sliding to her ass—squeezing the firm curves as I flipped her beneath me. "Fuck, Elena... you're always so wet for me." I kissed her deeply, tongue exploring, then moved down—sucking her nipple hard while fingers slipped between her legs, circling her clit. She arched, moaning, "Yes... touch me... make me cum first... I love your mouth on me."
I obliged—kissing down her stomach, spreading her thighs. Her pussy was glistening, swollen with need. I dove in—tongue flat and broad, lapping at her folds, tasting her sweetness. "God... you taste amazing... cum on my tongue, baby." She gripped my hair—super strength pulling me closer—hips bucking as I sucked her clit, fingers plunging inside. "Alex... yes... don't stop... I'm cumming!" Her orgasm hit—pussy fluttering, juices flooding my mouth as purple sparks danced across her skin.
She pulled me up—kissing me, tasting herself. "Your turn." She pushed me onto my back, straddling my face. "Sit on it... ride my tongue." Her pussy settled over my mouth—hot, wet, dripping. Juices flowed—coating my tongue, running down my chin. I lapped greedily—tongue thrusting deep, nose buried against her clit. "Fuck... yes... eat me... drink every drop." She ground down—thighs squeezing my head, ass flexing with each grind. Her clit throbbed against my tongue; I flicked it fast, then sucked—hard. She cried out—body shaking, purple sparks crackling. "Alex... I'm gonna cum... don't stop... drink me... please!" She shattered—pussy pulsing, juices gushing into my mouth, down my throat. I drank every drop—swallowing, licking, savoring.
She slid down—kissing me, "Now fuck me." She straddled my cock—sinking down in one motion, pussy gripping like velvet fire. "Yes... fill me... I love how you stretch me." She rode—hips rolling, breasts bouncing. "Harder... slap my ass... make me yours." I spanked—thunderclap echoes—thrusting up. "You're mine... my wife... cum for me again." Orgasms crashed—hers triggering mine, auras exploding in violet-purple light.
We collapsed—sweaty, satisfied. "One week," she whispered. "One week and you're mine forever."
"Always have been," I said, kissing her.
The public excitement was palpable. Parades in our honor, fans camping outside for glimpses, even a "Thick Chick Wedding Watch" TV special. We patrolled amid cheers—stopping a bank heist, Elena's purple blasts disarming robbers, my violet pulse stunning them. "Congrats on the wedding!" hostages shouted.
But that afternoon, a massive disturbance smashed into the city from space—crashing like a meteor, leveling a park. Dust cleared—revealing two men and two women in plain gowns, auras flickering with power identical to ours. They scanned the crowd. "Where is Elena Voss?" one woman demanded, voice echoing like thunder.
We suited up—rushing to the scene. "Who are you?" Elena shouted, floating above them.
They smiled—cold, familiar. "We have all the powers you have. And we're searching for you, Elena. Come with us."
Battle erupted—intense, mirroring. The women blasted purple energy like Elena; the men violet like me. We fought—dodging, countering, but they matched every move. "What do you want with her?" I yelled, slamming one man into a building.
The woman laughed—teleporting us all in a flash. Suddenly, we were on their world—in a whole another galaxy. Vast, alien landscape: purple skies, floating islands, 100s of them waiting—men and women with our powers, eyes glowing.
We tried to fight—Elena unleashing nova blasts that took down three, her super speed blurring as she disarmed two more. I blasted violet pulses—crushing one with strength, tackling another mid-air. But overwhelmed—numbers too great. They captured us—binding our auras with energy chains, taking us to separate cells in a crystal prison.
"What the fuck is going on?" I screamed, pounding the barrier. "Why do you want us?"
Emotional dialogue filled the air—me screaming, resisting, trying to get to Elena. "Elena! I love you! Don't touch her!" Guards laughed as they dragged her away. "Let her go! I'll kill you all!"
In my cell—alone, chained—I collapsed. What the fuck was going on? Why did they want us?
The end of our freedom. The start of something worse.