[Fonk]

Goodness me! ;D

[Fonk]

That's… quite something. I expect super happiness from the next installment! ;D

[Fonk]

Part 2 of the French Revolution coming right up! 😉

———————————

15 March 2003

I went round to the house of the woman I met at the doctor's to give her her bag back.

When I knocked on the door, I heard crying through it. The sobs stopped quickly and the door opened a little. The poor woman was still drying her tears when she recognised me.

"You?" I smiled.

"What – what do you want?" she said.

"You left your bag at the doctor's," I replied, holding it out to her.

"Oh! Thank you! I didn't know where I'd…" The young woman stopped cold. My biceps had just relaxed and contracted into an enormous ball of muscle, big as a volleyball. Her eyes were glued to them. I was just about to say something when she spoke first.

"I am sorry, I must ask you to leave!" she said. "I am – very busy!" she finished, in a shaky voice. Her eyes filed with tears as she turned away.

"Is something wrong – Sarah?" I asked. I'd read her name in her things.

"No! No! Everything's fine!" At that moment, a man's voice came down the hallway.

"Tell your friend to come inside, bitch! I hope she's got big titties!" Its owner came forward. He was holding a big hunting knife, the tip of which was threatening little Max's neck.

"We're gonna have a great time, ain't we?" he continued. "You're gonna be real nice." I ducked my head to go through the doorway, just as the guy lifted his head. Our eyes met just as I stood at my full height, two steps away from him, with my hands on my hips.

He stayed stock still. Max used the moment to slip away and buried himself in his mother's arms. I took in a deep breath and spread my elbows wide. My back muscles flared our slowly. My shadow, projected on the wall which he had just backed up to, grew slowly larger. Soon it covered his face, completely hiding him from the light of day. My body, which was hidden by the dazzling light up to that point, was suddenly revealed to him in minute detail. He dropped the knife. I ignored him and turned to Sarah.

"Does he hit you?"

She lowered her eyes and lifted up her T-shirt. Later I counted more than ten scars, caused by the knife. My blood boiled instantly. I grabbed the guy by the jaw and pushed him up against the wall with all my might. His bones offered scant resistance. In a fraction of a second his jawbone was broken in several places… CRAAAKKKK!

"Max, sweetie, go to bed!" I said. His mother pushed him down the hallway and he went upstairs. The guy was still gesticulating, held up by my arm, unable to make the slightest sound. His blood was starting to run down my hands. I looked at Sarah.

"Don't kill him! Please! Leave him!" she pleaded.

I let go of him, against my better judgement, and we took him to the police. I hope, for his sake, that they will lock him up and throw away the key.

      —–

13 April 2003

We went to the funfair. We spent the afternoon with Kate, Sarah and Max.

The last time we were here Sam said that he preferred it if we held hands. This time, I carried him on my arm. Max was in the other. He wasn't scared of people making fun of him because no-one would have dared. In any case, not in front of me! The girls followed on behind.

I took them to the punchball stall, the one where you can show how strong you are by hitting a basketball. It was the same one! The famous model with the seven different strength levels: 1 – little girl; 2 – little boy; 3 – man; 4 – athlete; 5 – tough; 6 – beast; and 7 – superman. I didn't even try last year, it had gotten so easy! However, I'd talked to Kate about it and she had wanted to see.

"Sam! I want to try it out."

"Again?"

"Yes! Kate wants me to show her." Max got down, Sam too. He put a coin in the machine and put the ball in place for me.

"Honey! Your arms are bigger than the ball!"

"Yes, I know. But it doesn't displease you, does it?" He lowered his head.

"No."

I lifted my arms and turned slightly toward Kate. I didn't need to prepare myself: my muscles were ready. They had become hard and prominent. Big veins appeared under my skin. The game was afoot!

I felt my hand go through the ball. It exploded outwards in a big plume of dust. My arm carried on going and embedded itself in the machine's metallic base…

BLAAAMMMM!!!

The lights on the machine went out and it started to spew out thick smoke.

"Level 10! SuperTanya!"

      —–

15 July 2003

Kate, Sam and I went to the gym.

Sam decided to start with his pecs. He loaded the bar with two ten kilo discs and started his first set. As I was waiting for him to finish, I borrowed the bar to do a little warm-up. I put it behind my neck and started rotating my body from left to right. When I finished, I pushed forward to contract my pecs as I usually did. I'd left the bar on my shoulders. It folded inwards without a sound, slowly, offering me no resistance at all. The two ends were getting closer and closer until they inevitably hit each other with the characteristic sound. The noise shook me awake!

I brought the bar over my head and looked at it stupidly.

"Eh? I thought it was my towel… ?" I walked towards Sam and Kate, who were still staring slack-jawed, putting the bar back around my neck.

"Kate! You've got my towel again!" I picked her up with one hand around her waist, lifting her to the height I needed. With the other I took one corner of the towel and wiped my face. Kate stayed there, held by the waist some half a metre above the floor. I saw that she was trying to say something, but couldn't.

"What? What is it?" I asked.

"You… you bent Sam's bar!"

"I know!" I replied. "It's not that amazing," I finished, putting her back down.

I passed the bar around her neck and bent it into a loop.

Kate looked at me, trembling. Maybe she thought I was going to squeeze the bar around her little neck until I strangled her? Or maybe just until I broke her frail spine? She put her hands on it, trying to lift it. She tried to fit her head through by squatting down. But I was holding the bar by each end. My flexed arms were two unwavering huge masses against which she could not fight. I let go of the bar and watched Kate fall to the floor, brought down by the weight.

The poor girl tried to get up but the weight was too much for her slender shoulders. She stayed there, looking at the floor, whilst Sam walked over to me.

"What are you doing, Tanya?" he whispered. "Help her!"

"Why don't you help her?" Kate looked up at me, tears in her eyes. I started to cry too.

"Oh, Kate!" I said. "I'm really sorry!" I removed the bar and left them in tears. Sam tried to understand.

"Are you alright, Kate?"

"Yes, yes."

"What's wrong with her today?" Kate looked at Sam and smiled.

"It's Sandy's birthday today. She's sad!"

And she was right. I miss Sandy! I miss her so much!

      —–

16 July 2003

We took our measurements today.

My measurements:

Height: 7'
Height with heels: 7'5"
Weight: 492kg
Measurements: 115F/35/45
Biceps: 41"
Thighs: 62"

Sam's measurements:

Height: 5'8"
Weight: 59kg
Measurements: 31/33/31
Biceps: 10"
Thighs: 19"

Kate's measurements:

Height: 5'3"
Weight: 40kg
Measurements: 35/23/33
Biceps: 8"
Thighs: 17"

Sam doesn't train regularly, so he isn't making any progress.

      —–

21 July 2003

My stats:

Bench press: 1855 lb.
Dumbbell curl: 445 lb.
Leg press: 4670 lb.

Sam's stats:

Bench press: 100 lb.
Dumbbell curl: 22 lb.
Leg press: 180 lb.

Kate's stats:

Bench press: 55 lb.
Dumbbell curl: 9 lb.
Leg press: 90 lb.

      —–

22 July 2003

This afternoon Kate came into my bedroom just as I was getting out of the shower. I was naked, still dripping wet, muscles warm and pumped from training. She dropped something when she saw me, which rolled under the bed.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing at the thing which had rolled behind her. Kate kept watching my muscles sparkle. The low-angled light of the setting sun on my wet skin made them more impressive than usual. She had put her hands on my thighs, eyes glued to my abs. She mustn't have heard my question, so I asked it again.

"What's that?"

"Sorry?"

"That thing that you dropped, what is it?"

"Oh! That…" She went over and picked it up as she spoke. "It's a baseball bat."

"A bat?"

"You made a promise…" It was true, I had promised, but I never thought she would take it seriously. Last month, as she hit me in the stomach during our lovemaking, Kate broke her wrist. I had said that next time she could hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat! Of course, I thought it was silly. At least, at first! Then, as I saw Kate's eyes sparkle, the idea started to seduce me and I got quite excited.

I took the bat and examined it attentively. I looked it up and down. I felt it. I tested it between my fingers and knocked on the wood. I didn't think it was that hard! I smiled at Kate and held the bat out to her.

"OK! You can hit me, but only on the stomach!" I said. "Now, I'm going to lie down."

I slid onto the bed and crossed my arms behind my neck. My rigid chest pointed to the ceiling.

"Wait!" I said. "I can't see anything!"

I got up by contracting my abs and settled onto my elbows instead. My abdominal grid turned harder than rock. The muscles grew, and the separations became more pronounced. The drops of water still on my body started to settle into little lakes, held in place by this or that muscle. For a moment I played with my muscles, making little waves of this water, before I looked back at Kate.

"OK, you can start!" Kate lifted the bat and hit me. POC! The water moved forward in a little wave.

"Go on, hit me!" She hit me again. POC! A few drops of water stayed on the bat. They started to drip down the length of the wood.

"Harder!" POC! This time, a spray of water erupted, dripping down Kate's hands.

"Even harder!" POC! POC! POC! POC! The water splashed about, landing further and further away with each blow, filling the room with shining drops of water. Kate's T-shirt was soaked. Her nipples and the shape of her breasts were now clearly visible through the fabric. She started to get me excited. Her wet arms shining in the sunlight, oiled by a mixture of sweat and water. I wanted so, so badly to grab her wrists and pull her close to me.

And she didn't know. She was so intent, hitting me again and again, harder and harder. She could see that I couldn't feel anything. It was making her angry. After each blow she put a little more effort in, trying to hurt me. Nothing came of it.

POC! POC!

At the start I could see her eyes shining with excitement. Little by little she got tired, and weakened, her arms shaking with each impact, her hands hurting more. I could see her frustration, so bad it was preventing her from speaking.

I closed my eyes. I was loving it! I even started to come from the feelings of power that I love so much. I bit my lip so as not to cry out with excitement.

Then the bat fell to the floor. I got up and opened my eyes. A little tear was rolling down her cheek. She lowered her head.

"It's her you're thinking about, isn't it?" she said. "Sandy!" She started to cry and ran out of the room.

      —–

28 July 2003

Today I did some bench presses with the car! Of course I can only lift one side of it, but it's fantastic!

I slid under the car, head first, until my chest bumped into it. I put my hands flat against the frame and took a deep breath. My ribcage lifted up, pressing my breasts strongly against the bumper. They were crushed. I felt them getting more dense, harder. When I contracted my pectorals for the first time, they loosened like a spring, relieving the pressure on them. The car, which didn't have the handbrake on, moved back a few centimetres.

I had to bring the car towards me. Then I gripped the two huge universal joints and pushed with all my strength. My pecs and triceps contracted and my muscles expanded little by little, shaking all the while. Striations became more and more visible, and then more and more deep. My muscles expanded again. The shaking got more intense. The whole car began to vibrate. I shouted to get all the air out of my lungs. My pecs drew in immediately. At the same time, it happened. The car moved upwards, slowly, but it moved! The shock absorbers loosened out, slowly, and then the tires came up off the ground.

My triceps came into play, helping my pecs, which were starting to tire. The shaking persisted for a moment then, when my arms were completely tensed, it stopped. OOF!

I panted a little to get the oxygen back into my muscles before letting the car down again, controlling its descent carefully. The other reps were much easier: the weight was not excessive and I had found a comfortable position to keep myself in.

I did my five sets of ten reps and asked Sam and Kate to get out of the car. They were in awe. They both came up to me and rubbed themselves against me.

[Fonk]

Today I hope to translate all the French stories that I haven't yet. So, here's part 6 of the wonderful Tanya's diary.

————————–

15 February 2003

I've grown and put on weight these last few months.

My measurements:

Height: 6'8".
Height with heels: 7'1"
Weight: 398kg
Measurements: 105D/29/39
Biceps: 38"
Thighs: 61"

Sam's measurements:

Height: 5'8".
Weight: 59kg
Measurements: 31/33/31
Biceps: 10"
Thighs: 19"

Sam's put weight on too, but he is so fragile that I have to take care not to hurt him accidentally. And it's worse with Kate!

Kate is the sales girl at the shop where I bought Sam's belts. I have been back to see her several times. The poor girl weighs about 40kg for 5'3"! She asks me to demonstrate my strength, and I love doing it! So does she!

What I love most of all is seeing her take her clothes off and come, naked in front of me, then stick herself to my skin to caress me. She starts by running her little hands over my abs for her own pleasure. She leaves her nails out to try and scratch me. The marks she makes on my skin are barely visible: my muscles have become too dense and hard.

Then she hits me with her little fists. She hits quickly, and hard. She doesn't stop until her hands are hurting. Then, slowly, she slides her fist into my sex up to the elbow, and makes it move back and forth delicately. Then I close my eyes and let the pleasure invade me until it reaches ecstasy point.

And that's how I broke her arm. A spasm made me contract my vaginal muscles, which broke her forearm. Today everything's back to normal except that we pay much more attention, her and I.

      —–

21 February 2003

Sam and I still train at the gym. We go during closing time, of course, so that people don't gather around us and bother us. Sam is doing sets of ten reps to take on mass and strength, as do I, though I think I'm going to concentrate on just my strength by doing smaller sets. Here are our stats, as of today.

My stats:

Bench press: 1345 lb.
Dumbbell curl: 322 lb.
Leg press: 342 lb.

Sam's stats:

Bench press: 100 lb.
Dumbbell curl: 22 lb.
Leg press: 180 lb.

      —–

2 March 2003

It was always going to happen!

I don't know what I was thinking this morning, but I went through a door without ducking: I took the frame of the door with me, as well as half of the wall. The funniest thing about it is that I hardly felt a thing. It was the explosion of bricks and the groaning of wood that told me something had happened.

Sam was there, but he didn't say anything. He said that it was always going to happen, and that it might be good to break all the doors once and for all. I took him at his word.

I took him in front of a wall and asked him to break it. Obviously, he retorted that he didn't have any tools. I smiled and he immediately knew what I was going to do.

"OK! I'll have a go," he replied. He put a hand on the wall and hit it as hard as he could with the other. You could just make out the imprint of his fist on the plaster. I made fun of him by blowing on the little mark he had made.

"Is that it?? You aren't really very efficient!"

"Wait! Let me have another go!" He hit harder this time. The imprint of his fist was quite visible but the plaster had not cracked. He'd hurt his hand; I took him by the shoulder and brought him to me.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll take care of it." I stuck Sam against the wall and lifted him up by the neck. Before he made the slightest movement I had thrust my other arm through the wall up to my shoulder with a violent punch. Then I drew it back out slowly, under his admiring gaze, to leave a gaping hole at about Sam's head level. I looked at him, smiling.

"You see, there's no need to hit it that hard!" Sam was very excited. He promised to have everything sorted out tomorrow if I broke all the doorframes today. Which I did. I hope he's going to keep his promise. He ordered the material to repair the partitions. It will be delivered tomorrow. Whilst we wait, he swept everywhere and put the rubbish in some 200 litre barrels that he'd bought from the petrol station. It was funny to watch him try to move them around. He wrapped his arms right round them, brought them to his chest and waddled forward, hitting his knees on the barrel with every step. When I think how easy it was to load them on the 4×4, filled with 300kg of rubble!

Sam hid in the last barrel to watch me! He loves being a witness to my feats of strength. I can tell he's getting a real kick out of it every time: I can see him shaking! I'm convinced he's coming just by watching me, the power that I can display when my muscles are called into action.

      —–

3 March 2003

The building materials were delivered this morning and Sam kept his promise. He rebuilt the walls and left huge holes for me to go through.

"I hope you don't get any bigger!" he said. I hope so too. I think I'm going to go to the doctor again.

      —–

10 March 2003

I went to see the doctor this morning. When I went into the waiting room I saw a young woman waiting with her son, a little blonde boy of eight or nine years old.

"Mum! Mum! Look!" he said, as soon as he saw me. "It's Superman's wife!" He wasn't wrong! I was wearing a form-fitting dress made of Lycra, whose deep blue colour was quite a superheroic colour. The kid had made the link straight away when he saw my enormous muscles bulging under the material.

The mother, who was hugging her son close to her, had her eyes wide open, jaw hanging slack. She had stopped breathing. I said "hello" politely and sat astride a couple of chairs so they were sharing my weight. She was rooted to the spot and didn't know how to reply. I carried on talking to try to relax her.

"You should let him go." She shook her head as if she were shaking the thoughts that had stopped her brain out and tried to speak.

"S – S – Sorry?"

"Your son – you should let him go! You're hurting his arm." She had grabbed her son by the arm and was squeezing with all her might. The poor kid was starting to grimace with the pain.

"Oh my God! Max! Did I hurt you?"

"No, no! I'm OK!" He paused for a thought. "D'you see, Mum, how strong she is? Dad's muscles are smaller than hers, aren't they?"

"Yes honey," she said, smiling at me. I smiled back at her, and she lowered her head. She couldn't look me in the eye, but I could tell she couldn't stop looking at me. Max came up to me.

"Miss…" he began. "Could I touch your muscles?" The mother was indignant.

"Maaax! Really! You can't ask someone that kind of thing." She was looking at me as she spoke; I saw that she was asking me for something.

"Oh, don't worry about it. He's just a child, after all," I reassured her. Then I turned to Max and addressed him directly.

"Right then! Come here!" I lifted an arm and flexed it slowly. "Come on! You can touch it!" The boy, seeing my biceps grow as he watched, bigger than his head, got scared. He started to tremble.

"Mum, come with me! I'm scared!" The mother looked at me. I nodded to her, so she got up and took her son's wrist. She started to tremble too.

She guided her son's hand slowly towards me, then let go of his hand. The poor kid ran away and sat down. The mother, though, stayed in front of me, her eyes fixed on my arm.

"You want to touch it too, don't you?" She didn't reply. She moved her trembling hand forward and rested it on my biceps. Her fingers ran around the muscle very gently. She took a deep breath and pushed down with her thumb, trying to push into the enormous muscle mass there, but had no success. She put both hands on my bicep, just about covering it when she spread her fingers out, and caressed it longingly. I brought her out of the reverie.

"Do you want to hit it?" I asked. "Go ahead!"

She put on a determined look and formed a tiny fist. She hesitated a moment, but then hit me.

It was amusing to see this little woman punch me. I smiled.

She looked at me. We looked at each other and, instantly, her eyes filled with tears. She began to cry. She grabbed her son and left quickly.

I noticed that she had forgotten her bag. When I got up to pick it up, the doctor came in. When he saw me he let go of the door, which promptly closed on him. BLAM!

"Hello, doctor!"

"He – He – He…" I didn't wait for him to reply: I grabbed him by the neck, lifted him up off the ground, and ducked under the door. I crossed the surgery in two steps and put him into his chair.

"Doctor, I'd like a full check-up. I want to be reassured about my health."

"Right, OK… sit down."

"I am already sat down, Doctor!" He looked at my thighs for a long moment without saying anything, then swallowed.

"Yes, of course. I'll start by measuring your weight and height, if you don't mind?"

"Of course." I stood up and went to the scales. I spotted in a mirror that he was looking at my legs whilst wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. He asked me to take off my shoes. I did so and held them out to him. The idiot dropped them. I have to admit that he probably wasn't expecting each one to weigh three kilos! They're made of steel, to order, and they come directly from Italy. I got my revenge on his scales.

I put a foot on, delicately, and pressed downwards. The machine indicated 30kg then 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 90, 100kg. I stopped. He looked at me for just a second before returning to the digital display. I kept pressing down.

110kg, 120, 130, 140, 150, 160, 170, 180, 190, 200kg.

I looked at him. He trembled and wiped his forehead feverishly. Then I sighed theatrically and put my other foot on the scales. The figures moved on quickly, too quickly to make them out. Then the display said "overload" and went out… CRAAACCKKK! The pieces flew into the four corners of the room. The doctor took a step back and held on to the wall to stop himself from falling over.

"How… how much do you weigh?"

"I don't know, exactly… let's say four hundred kilos!"

"Four hundred… Hmm! Hmmm!" He got his breath back before continuing.

"I'm going to measure your height." He pointed towards a graduated line which was stuck to the wall. I stood next to it, keeping my arms by my sides, and waited. I saw that he was uneasy. He walked around me, looking at the wall nervously: he didn't know how to tell me that he couldn't read my height off the line. My body, with its unusual dimensions, blocked it completely from his sight. I sighed mentally before proposing the obvious solution.

"Stand on a chair!" He looked sheepish before he did so.

"Six foot eight!" he announced.

"If you had only asked me, I could have told you that!" I replied, putting my shoes back on. "And seven foot one with my heels!" He was feeling more and more uneasy.

"Do you want to measure my arms?" I said, getting closer to him.

"No… no, that won't be necessary." I put my index finger on my torso and moved it from left to right.

"Shame!"

The poor man! His erection was getting more and more obvious! I sat down and flexed my arms as he looked on.

"Do you want to measure my blood pressure?

"Yes, of course… blood pressure." As he spoke he picked the apparatus up from his desk and turned to me. I smiled at him and moved my arm towards him. As he put the strap under my arm, he began to understand that there would be a problem: my arm was much too big for the strap to go around it! He looked me in the eyes.

"That's the biggest size!"

"Too bad for my blood pressure, then! Why not listen to my heart or my respiration, something like that!"

"Yes, of course – the stethoscope!" He put the stethoscope in his ears and started to move the detector around my chest. After a few moments he spoke again.

"I am sorry, I can't hear anything. Your breasts are too… big! I'm going to have to put the stethoscope between your breasts." I didn't give him the time to justify himself more. I slipped the straps off my shoulders and slid the dress down from my chest. Then I took a deep breath and moved my shoulders back. My pectorals stretched, forcing my breasts to move apart. I saw him hesitate, so I turned away so as not to embarrass him further.

I felt him come closer, and then his hands brushed against my breasts. I even shuddered when the cold metal of the detector touched my skin. I patiently waited for the results.

"Oh, my God!"

"What? What's happening, Doctor?" I asked. "Is it serious?"

"No, that's not it!"

"So?"

"You have contracted your pectoral muscles!" I didn't understand what he meant, so he continued his explanation.

"My arm is stuck!" I lowered my head; half of his forearm had disappeared inside my cleavage. He was trying to get free by pushing on my chest with the other hand and launching himself backwards.

"Let me go! You have no need to be here; you're in perfect health, and you know it!" he shouted. I watched him fight to free himself with great amusement before relaxing my body, freeing his arm from my enormous breasts. Taken by surprise, he nearly fell backwards. I caught him, just, by grabbing the hand he had placed on my chest to free himself. I brought him towards me.

Having seen him a prisoner of my mostly-relaxed muscles excited me so much. I felt my sex become hot and wet. I held my legs out horizontally and wrapped them around his waist. He tried in vain to get free, but immediately knew he would not succeed. I put my dress back on slowly without worrying about him. By grabbing both sides of the material, I rolled it as slowly as possible up my abdominals and then my chest. As I went I moved my muscles to try and get rid of the creases. It excited me so much to know that he was there, eyes fixed on me, holding himself back so that he didn't ejaculate.

Mouth slightly open, I slid my hand into my cleavage to move my breasts back into position, holding them delicately. Then I started to knead them between my fingers to let him know how soft and supple they were. I grabbed him by the neck and forced him to plunge his head between my two enormous mammaries. He put his hands on them, trying to separate them. I saw his fingers try to plunge into them, unsuccessfully. He must have been so surprised!

I had flexed my pecs, compressing my breasts and making them seem as hard as bowling balls! I put my feet on the floor and stood up. He stayed trapped between my breasts, dangling a good four inches off the floor. His little fists hammered my shoulders as I lifted my dress up to the waist. Then I let him go.

I walked towards him as I shoved a finger into my sex and masturbated forcefully above his head. Soon little drops of liquid started to fall onto his bald head. I gripped his jaw and forced him to open his mouth wide. My sex had become hard and burning hot. The insides of my thighs had started to tremble. Suddenly a jet of vaginal fluid sprayed his face. I stuck his jaw to my sex and watched. I watched my clitoris harden, like an erection, crushing the doctor's nose. I waved it around his lips before forcing it down his throat.

My vaginal fluid went into his mouth in tiny spurting jets, spilling out of the sides and running down his cheeks. I pulled out, still trembling, and held his mouth shot to make him swallow. When I saw him gulp, I let go and rolled my dress down. I took the handbag that the young mother had left behind and went towards the door.

"Wait!" the doctor cried. "You are coming back, aren't you?" As he stood up in front of his desk, I immediately saw the hot, sticky patch on the crotch of his trousers: he had ejaculated! I smiled.

"Yes!" I said. "I'll be back!"

[Fonk]

I like the angle of the second one.

And the first one, come to that. ;D

[Fonk]

And it's grand, oh yes!

[Fonk]

A grand start. I like the viewpoint changes, and the sweetness of the love the lead characters have for each other. Good stuff!

[Fonk]

*gibber*

Lord, that's good stuff. 😉

[Fonk]

And they're all beautiful! Thanks to the wonderful pair of you.

[Fonk]

She's incredible. Thank you so much for sharing.

[Author]

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