“Today’s WBZN’s Morning Traffic Report is brought to you buy Murray’s Nissan. Alright, if you’re traveling on 95 this morning, you might want to find a different route to work, because it looks like Honey is out for a jog. She should be approaching Exit 21 in a few minutes, so for those of you already on the road, it would be advisable to pull over to the side of the road, and let her pass.

And Honey, if you’re listening, have a great work out...”

20 minutes earlier:

I was in a somewhat perilous position…

Perched on top of Honey's raised knee, I had a perfect view of her as she completed a lengthy set of crunches. Naturally, she placed me there, despite my frantic objections. It was a common routine in our still fresh marriage: I'd express my opinion and Honey would ponder it briefly before doing what she originally pleased. In a way it bothered me, but I imagine that a free-spirited 200 foot woman is accustomed to doing things her way.

Besides, in two years of marriage, not once had she ever hurt me, which is somewhat remarkable considering our size differences

Anyway, as she prepared to start her workout, I told her how easy it was to fall from her knee while she worked her abs, but she countered my objections.

"Buy baby-a, seeing you there gives me much inspire when I exercise. Don't you want me to stay extra special sexy for you?"

I rolled my eyes at the gorgeous woman's rationale. "C'mon Honey-pot, you know full well that you're already perfect."

Honey rewarded my compliment with her brilliant smile. "Such a sweetheart", she cooed.

Unfortunately, flattery didn't get me anywhere though, except for where Honey wanted me to be...

An instant later, she gently grasped me in one giant hand and placed me on her knee.

Once the crunches began, I could only hold on tightly, and admire the incredible movements of her body. I gazed down at her flat tummy and the cute belly button as they squeezed and unsqueezed every time she rose and lifted her upper body. Then there were Honey's long, luscious thighs…I had an excellent view of them and admired how the muscles flexed ever so slightly with her rhythmic movement.

Of course, most mesmerizing of all, was the Korean girl's colossal Double D's. I found myself nearly hypnotized by Honey's barely contained breasts, especially as every time she rose up, they were so close to my perch. As was her routine, the former stripper wore a skimpy little workout tank-top...hot pink and black this time.

Honey's picture perfect face was set in an expression of concentration as she burned through the set of crunches. Sometimes though, when she was in the "up position", she'd wink one of her pretty almond shaped eyes at me, or blow me a kiss, before lowering herself.

Once Honey finished blasting her abs, she plucked me up and said, "Now it time for some lifting weights".

Giggling, the 200 foot tall woman playfully tossed me in the air and allowed me to land in her sweaty palm.

"Hmmm, too light" she huffed in mock frustration at my inability to provide her the weight resistance she was looking for.

Scanning her surroundings though, Honey quickly discovered a weight that would both test her strength and satisfy her lust for mischief...

The government had agreed to build us a home that would be designed and furnished to accommodate Honey's colossal size. As a result, teams of construction crews and their machinery surrounded us, and my wife took great pleasure and making the men miserable with her pranks. So, when she wanted a proper "weight" to lift, one of their heavy vehicles provided a perfect fit.

Reaching down, Honey snagged a cement mixer, with its driver still inside, from the ground.

"Please and thank you", she said to the frustrated, yet very respectful construction workers.

With the cement mixer in her hand, Honey proceeded to use the heavy truck as a dumbbell. Unfortunately, for somebody with nearly limitless reserves of physical power, even the three ton vehicle proved to have as little heft as I did in the mischievous woman's hand. After a couple dozen half-hearted repetitions, Honey carefully, but intentionally placed the cement mixer upside down on the ground. Later, she would enjoy watching all these "big, strong" men labor to undue something that took her less than a second to casually achieve.

"Alright sweet heart, are you finished yet", I asked from her still clenched left hand.

Honey pretended to ponder my question, before a dazzling smile lit up her face. "Ah, no baby-a. I think a little run in the city might be a good idea."

I groaned upon hearing that. One of the many "agreements" between Honey and the city included a provision that she would provide the government 24 hours notice before leaving the suburbs. While it was actually, a legitimate concern on their part, my wife rarely abided by it. Despite objections, Honey always replied with an innocent "But I'll be very, very careful"

And so, she was off.

If you've never seen a 200 foot tall woman jog, it's quite the sight to behold...from a long distance away. The speed Honey is able to achieve with her long legs and enhanced strength is incredible. During a recent promotion, she actually raced against a Formula-1 car, and while she ended up losing the race, my wife actually reached 120 miles per hour in full sprint.

Her speed is one thing, but more spectacular is the way she can make the ground tremble with every stride. Honey's size 300 Adidas running shoes were designed with special soles, so that her gargantuan weight causes the minimum amount of destruction. Still though, it’s impossible to completely eliminate the rumbling completely...

As Honey took her first strides into the street, her powerful feet cause any parked car in the vicinity to jump ever so slightly. Within only a few seconds, at least a dozen anti-theft alarms blared all over the neighborhood, but if Honey noticed, she didn’t show it. Instead she was more interested in greeting any nearby neighbors.



“Hi Mister Wilson” she waved cheerfully, while jogging by the elderly man Noticing that the paperboy accidentally tossed the newspaper on top of his roof again, she paused quickly to pluck it up, and drop it to the ground.

Grateful for the help, Mister Wilson called out, “Thanks Honey!”

A few blocks over, while waiting for the school bus, a group of elementary aged girls, always big fans of my wife, squealed with joy at the sight of their ever perky idol. Starting to concentrate on her run though, Honey simply flashed them her billion watt smile and waved, before running past. The small gesture was still enough to thrill the youngsters

We moved more quickly as she left the neighborhood, not at top speed, but she still trucked along nicely. Perched on Honey’s shoulder, my view of the surrounding turned into a blur. The sound of more car alarms, along with the sound off a startled motorist hitting his brakes echoed through the morning dawn.

And through it all was the rhythmic cadence of the giantess’s foot falls...

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP...

I cringed as Honey made her way on to the interstate. The four lane highway was packed with morning rush-hour traffic, but fortunately they were already pulled over the side when we arrived. With the width of the highway largely clear, Honey was able to continue her jog safely (safely for the motorists). Most people seem to be used to my wife’s hijinks, and like me, find it hard to be angry at her. Still, a few frustrated...brave commuters blared their horns. Fortuntately, Honey wasn't in the mood to take offense. Also, Judging by the thousands of camera flashes, just as many drivers are thrilled to see the gorgeous giantess first hand. If there was one thing that could prevent a minor tantrum was flattering attention from the masses...

As she hit three miles, the massive jogger placed two fingers on her neck to check her pulse. I figured that was more out of habit, as Honey could run for a hundred miles, and her heart rate wouldn’t rise more than a couple extra beats...if even that.

In the meantime, from my perch on her shoulder, things started to become a bit more nerve racking. During the final moments of her run, Honey’s smooth skin became sweaty, causing the surface beneath me to become wet with perspiration. As a result, my clothes dampened, but a more serious problem arose when I found it difficult to not slip on her sweaty skin. Even clinging to the gold chain around her neck, I had trouble remaining on Honey’s shoulder.

“Honey!” I yelled.

Before I could say anything else though, I slid off my perch, and rolled down the incline of her breast. Fortunately, my body followed the path of her bust line, which led me to fall into her tanktop. The morning jog immediately came to a stop.

Wedged somewhat safely between Honey’s ever so delectable orbs, I could only look up at her bemused expression.

“Ugh” she huffed. “Always with the sexy time thoughts”

I tried to explain why I ended up nestled inside her cleavage, but she wasn’t overly interested.

A crooked grin, that promised trouble, lit up Honey’s face. “It’s ok, you know good workout makes me extra ready for love anyway.”

She squeezed her breasts together playfully, before adding, “Of course, my feet will need massage-e first. You do good job, then maybe you can get what you like...”

Her giggles echoed through the valley, as she turned around for our home. In the meantime, I had to prepare myself for the chore of massaging a demanding giantess’s sweaty feet, before I would get my well deserved reward...