"Haha, Victor. "I have to work for it". From the way you handled today, you ruined some people. You proved why you're the strongest man on this earth, Victor. And this...is a pretty small portion of food." Natalie said, as the waiter walked away, Natalie already cutting up her steak as she got eating away.
"Oh, and you know my past. The Spetsnaz wasn't all you know, team operations. Sometimes it was me, my silenced PKP, two (Spetsnaz) shovels and a fucking uniform that made me look like some fat overbloated Babushka against 200 Chechens that wanted the first blood of any Russian in the area. I made people disappear, of course. But I stayed out of the FSB politics, I'm too...vulgar, a political asset. So when a Chechen leader that has been a little too feisty in his catch for Russian lives strikes, I made sure that he found the blunt or sharpened end of my shovel. Or some local warlord in Turkmenistan, or wherever I was needed. I suppose we're made for each other, perhaps it was inevitable we would have met one day, on the wrong end of each others' foreign policy. But still, I bet you, we would still be fucking by the end of the day. Just making good sweet love in some ditch, with all our gear to one side and my breasts in yours." Natalie said to him, quietening significantly down towards last two thirds. 
"Damn, this is good food. I do need more of this, plus some drink you know."

------------------

Natalie chuckled, going a little side to side. It was rare to see Natalie towards tipsy. But the mixture of Vodka-on-the-rocks and Absynthe towards the end had really hit hard, and the giant Russian's system, as good as it was at dissipating alcohol, was faltering a little. She had drunk a lot, probably more than Victor she thought to herself. Natalie felt Victor pin him, the 7"11 Mohican overpowering her with a tender kiss, as Natalie sunk her tongue into his mouth, her stature shorter than his, but somehow, still corresponding quite well. They were both to most, "fucking huge", in almost every proportion. Natalie viewed it as a perk, not a disadvantage. Being like this was fine. Looking down on the mortals. Her routine, her lifestyle, her husband and her actions reminded her at every corner that it was the case. She was a Queen, a Godess and along with Victor in battle, the face of death. Snuggling close, as Victor picked her up, Natalie aware that Victor was just about able to do so, she looked up at him, tucking her legs in as they went through the doorway, and to the bed.

Coming down, Natalie felt herself be set down, aware that even though she could probably barely lift Victor herself if it was absolutely needed, even vice versa it must have been tough.
"Sounds good to me Victor. With the wolves and the bears. You're my big wolf tonight, Victor. Come on." She mentioned, giving a motion to "Come Here" as Victor did precisely that, Natalie's dress coming undone already. Victor's hand did the rest, the bra that had held so much restraint to her overpowering titties now helpless. Natalie's two large melons sloshed forward, their size simply mesmerizing. They weren't hideously impractical, but to call them moderated was an understatement. Natalie yanked him down, feeling him slam down into her body, looking right into his face as she smiled, Natalie's left hand holding her left breast wide, her face in gleeful and awesome delight, as her underwear slipped down. 
"Tuck in,,," Natalie said, as the heat between the two exploded, and from outside, what sounded like ear-shattering grunts and yells could be heard, as the two Gods went at it, the two intertwined. 

(Meh, fade to blackish.)