Grant Me A Wish

Bridget's insides did a flip-flop. The old Grant was back. She had pushed her luck too far and destroyed everything she had worked so hard to accomplish. "Do you really have to leave" she asked, almost pleading. "I thought you were off today."

"I am," he replied. "These aren't work matters I have to take care of. They're personal things Iwant to do today. I'll only be gone for an hour or so. Then I'll be right back here with you."

"What kind of personal things?" Bridget asked, releasing her grip on his crotch and slowly rising to her feet.

"Just things," he replied. "Nothing you have to worry about."

"But I wanna know," Bridget pressed on.

"You'll know as soon as I get back," Grant replied.

"But…" Bridget started.

"But, nothing," Grant cut her off. "Why don't you get this mess cleaned up while I go get dressed?"

"Yes, my master," Bridget-genie replied with the little curtsy she had seen Jeanie use so many times on TV. "As you command." She began cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

"That's better," Grant chirped as he headed out of the kitchen. "I think I like this master and slave stuff."

#

Several minutes later, Grant returned to the kitchen, wearing a new pair of slacks and a shirt Bridget had bought for him months ago. He had refused to wear them because he didn't like them. He had said she was simply trying to make him look like some kind of young stud or something. He doesn't dress like that. Those hadn't been his exact words, but that was what he had meant. His actual words had been more along the lines of, "You've got shit for taste when it comes to men's clothing. Don't be wasting my hard-earned money on crap like this. If I'm gonna be wearing it, I'll buy it, thank you very much!" He had thrown them at the trashcan, which he had missed by a country mile, and stormed out of the room.

But now, there he stood, wearing the clothes Bridget had picked up from the floor, pressed, and hung in his closet. They had remained there until today.

"Wow! Don't you look sharp!" Bridget exclaimed.

"They do look kinda nice on me, don't they," he agreed.

"Yes they do," she chirped. "I told…"

"I guess I owe you an apology," Grant cut her off.

Bridget stood staring at him. This was a first; Grant Mallory had never in his life apologized to anyone for anything, especially her. "Say what?" she asked. "I know I didn't hear what I thought you just said."

"I'm sorry, Baby, I've been such an ass over the last couple of months," Grant spoke in one of the softest, most-sincere voices Bridget had ever heard him use.

Once she regained herself, she started to say; don't you mean, "years"? But she kept her mouth shut. She wasn't going to be dumb enough to ruin a beautiful moment like this.

Stepping up to her, he gave her a hug and a brief kiss. "I'll be back in an hour or so," he said, turning to leave.

"You can't go out of the house looking like that. You're ruining the lines of those slacks some poor designer spent hours trying to get just right," she said, trying to conceal a giggle as she pointed down to the huge bulge still protruding in the front of his pants.

"Damn, Big Buddy!" Grant barked. "What the hell's wrong with you? Ain't you got no respect for a lady?"

Bridget couldn't restrain her giggles any longer.

Grant looked back at her. "I don't understand," he sounded so confused. "He shouldn't be acting like this. His stupid ass should be dead today. But it's like a magnet every time I get near you. "Boing!" I can hear the little bastard panting for you! What am I gonna do?"

Bridget, in her best obedient-genie manner, slowly knelt in front of Grant. "Nothing," she replied as she eased his zipper down and relieved his slacks of their burden. "A problem like this requires the magic touch of a genie. Does my master not know this?"

Grant gasped as the tip of Bridget's tongue swirled around the tightly closed orifice in the end of his aching manhood. "God, that feel's so nice," Grant moaned. "But be careful. He's pretty sore from last night."

"Yes, Master," Bridget-genie whispered just before her tongue slowly slid over the sensitive nerve under the swollen head of his excited shaft.

"Oh, Christ!" Grant gasped. "That's fantastic!" Another gasp followed the first as her tongue past over that nerve on its return trip.

Bridget stopped long enough to make Grant step back a few steps so he could lean back against the kitchen counter. His legs had already become wobbly with pleasure. But as he moved back the two or three steps to reach the counter, Bridget walked on her knees toward him, refusing to relinquish the tight grip her right hand held around the base of his hard shaft. The moment he leaned back, her tongue resumed its slow, nerve-racking pace back and forth over that special nerve.

Gradually, she allowed just the head of his penis to slip between her lips. But the tip of her tongue continued to tease that nerve.

"No, No!" Grant gasped. "Just your tongue! Keep doing that thing with your tongue!"

Bridget pulled back enough to allow the head of his hardness to slip from her lips. Her searing tongue curled around his shaft and continued sliding up and down that delicate spot. With nothing but her fingers wrapped around the base of his manhood, and her tongue dancing under its enraged head, Bridget felt his body began to tremble. His moans became louder and deeper. His hips began arching forward. Bridget knew he was about to erupt. She quickly sucked the head back into her mouth and braced herself for what she knew was about to come.

Grant suddenly jerked his hips back, pulling himself out of her mouth. "No, please! Don't put it in your mouth. Just use that wonderful tongue of your! That feels unbelievable!"

Bridget's grip tightened around the base of his shaft and her tongue swirled in tiny circles around that one little spot under its engorged head.

Grant's hips arched toward her again. His legs began to shake. His body began to tremble. "Oh my God!" He groaned in deep, barely understandable words. Bridget wasn't sure what she should do at that instant. She started to move her face out of the line of fire.

"Oh God no, honey! Don't stop, please don't!" Grant begged as the first spasm caused his hard shaft to jerk in her hand. It also caused the first jet of his hot cum to shoot over her still busy tongue and deep into her open mouth. The second jet splashed against her cheek and slowly oozed down her face.

This all seemed to excite Grant just that much more. As the third jet sprayed across her chin, Bridget grabbed the top of her genie costume with her left hand and pulled its wide, elastic neckline down under her breasts. She quickly wrapped that hand around his erupting manhood where her tongue had been. She gently stroked him while she aimed his next jet of cum directly against one of her hard nipples. Her breath seized in her lungs as Grant's hot jet hit her nipple at point blank range. His next spurt blasted against her other nipple.

Bridget smiled up at her husband's pleasure-stricken face and continued gently stroking his pulsating shaft, allowing his thick, warm juices to splatter across her excited breasts. A narrow ribbon of his cum trickled its way down between them.

Releasing her grasp from around the base of his still pulsating shaft, Bridget idly toyed with the thick wads of cum clinging to her sensitive nipples. But her other hand continued its slow gentle massage over the spurting, enlarged head of his shaft.

When she felt the spasms of his manhood finally diminishing, Bridget's fingers left her sticky nipples and slipped into her mouth. Once they were cleansed, they slipped across her chin and up her cheek, gathering more of Grant's deposit as they went. Her fingers required another cleansing in her mouth after that.

Grant could not take his eyes off of Bridget as she carefully licked her fingers clean of his juices. He had never seen anything so erotic. Well, that was until she took his now-flaccid, cum-covered manhood into her mouth and gently sucked it dry, milking it for every last drop. She then licked him completely clean, while he rested against the counter, ready to collapse into a pile in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Once Grant's nowlittle buddy was clean, Bridget gently placed it back inside Grant's pants and carefully zipped them up. As she rose from her kneeling position in from of her spent husband, Bridget gave his crotch a little pat. "There now, that should keep him happy long enough for you to go do whatever it is you've go to do." Bridget grinned. All Grant could manager to say was, "That was incredible."

Bridget picked up a dishtowel, handed it to Grant, and pointed down at her cum-splattered breasts. "I think, since my master made this mess, my master should clean it up."

Grant cautiously cleaned the result of Bridget's activity off her still-excited breasts. He took extra care to be sure her hard nipples were clean. Once his mission was accomplished, he leaned over and gave each of them a tender, but brief kiss.

"Maybe I'll give them a little more attention when I get back," Grant said with an almost evil grin as he gently pinched them both.

Bridget let out a soft moan and whispered, "Maybe that's a good idea."

"Dammit! I've gotta get outta here!" Grant snapped. "Big Buddy's on the rise again, for Christ's sake! I'll be back as soon as I can."

A quick smooch and Grant was out the door. Bridget stood staring at the closed door for several moments. Her mind raced over the past twenty or so hours, and all the fantastic sex she and Grant had shared in that small span of time. But the biggest thing on her mind was the unbelievable change that had suddenly come over Grant.

After fixing herself a cup of coffee, she sat down at the table to think things over. She hadn't noticed that her breasts were still exposed until she saw her reflection in the chrome toaster sitting on the table. Looking down at her chest, she started to pull the elastic neck of her top out from under her breasts. That's when she saw the shiny trail Grant's cum had made as it oozed down between her breasts. At the end of that trail, where her cleavage met, lay a small glistening pool of creamy-white cum, stuck to her breasts. Reaching for a napkin, she started to wipe it off, but the taste of his juices lingered in her mouth. Her hand stopped just before the napkin reached its intended target. She suddenly realized that for the first time in her life, she found the taste of it pleasant and even a bit exciting. She had never enjoyed it on the few rare occasions during the first year or so of their marriage when she had let him cum in her mouth. And she had never, before last night, swallowed it. Of course, last night she'd had little choice but to swallow it since he had been so deep inside of her throat when he came. And she hadn't actually tasted that, other than a little as he slowly withdrew from her mouth, leaving a few drops on her tongue in the process. She remembered liking the taste suddenly and swallowing it. She also remembered wanting more.

During this morning's encounter in the kitchen, she had brought him off strictly using only her tongue. His first ejection had been a massive jet right onto her tongue and deep into the back of her open mouth. She had found both the taste and the sensation delightful. That was why she had licked her fingers clean after using them to wipe Grant's sticky cum from her face. And then she had even used her tongue to clean Grant up after he had finished spraying his hot juices all over her.

The napkin fell from her hand and fluttered to the floor. A moment later, her fingers were carefully scooping at the sticky pool laying in her cleavage. Her fingers made several trips from the disappearing pool to her eager tongue.

When Bridget had completed her delightful task she started to take a sip of her coffee as she reminisced over how that tasty little pool of Grant's cum had gotten between her breasts. A shiver raced up her back when she thought again about Grant's first shot blasting against her tongue.

The coffee cup ended up sitting untouched on the table. Bridget forwent the coffee in favor of the salty taste of Grant's juices still tantalizing her taste buds.

Finally, the taste of cool coffee rushed across her tongue. She looked at her reflection in the chrome toaster and whispered, "Don't worry Leslie, we'll get more tonight." She watched Leslie's tongue slide over her upper lip. Bridget could almost hear Leslie reply, "Yeah, I bet there's plenty more where that came from."

"He darn sure don't seem to be running dry," Bridget replied. "And can you believe how horny he is? It's like he just can't get enough."

"Maybe he was just trying to make up for lost time," the reflection said.

"Can you believe two little pills could've had that much effect on Grant?" Bridget asked her reflection.

"We should've done this a long time ago," Bridget heard from the toaster.

"It sure wouldn't made life a lot better," Bridget agreed.

"Don't you think you should cut the dosage in half?" the reflection in the toaster suggested.

"Are you nuts?" Bridget snapped. "We've never had it so good! The man can't seem to get enough!"

"My point exactly," Leslie replied. "Either the boys are gonna end up in the hospital from complete exhaustion and probably dehydration, or we're going to end up in a wheelchair because we're gonna be too damn sore to walk."

"Spoil sport," Bridget barked at the toaster. "Didn't you enjoy all of that fantastic sex?"

"Of course I did. It's been a long time," Leslie replied. "But you really can get too much of a good thing, and I think two pills are too much."

"We'll see," Bridget agreed. "Maybe I'll just slip him one next time."

"Maybe you shouldn't give him any for a while," Leslie suggested. "Let's see how long it takes to get it all out of his system."

"But I don't want it completely out of his system," Bridget said. "I like him all hot and hard all the time."

"Last night, the boys weren't just hot. They were on fire," Leslie said. "And they were still that way this morning."

"Okay, I get the message," Bridget said. "I'll take it easy until we get this all figured out right.

#

Grant was gone for almost four hours. Bridget, fresh out of the bath, sat at the kitchen table in her terrycloth robe when he came in the back door laden with several large bags and packages.

"What on Earth is all of this?" she asked as she helped Grant with his burden. "Just a few things I picked up while I was out," he replied.

"A few things?" Bridget snapped. "No, this isn't just a few things! A few things, to you, can be carried home in one bag. This looks more like one of my spending sprees."

"Well, you're sort of right," he agreed. "Actually, all of this stuffis for you."

"What?" Bridget gasped in surprise.

"Well, it's kinda for me too," he corrected. "Here, let me show you," he started opening the packages.

By the time they had finished opening everything, there was a wide selection of female super hero and fictional TV character costumes strewn about the kitchen. He had bought almost every character outfit Victoria's Secret had to offer. There was an outfit from every female from Amazon Woman to Xena, the Warrior Princess, which happened to be the one he was holding up when he said, "Here, go try this one on for me."

"So! That's it!" Bridget exclaimed, taking the Xena outfit from him. "It's the fantasy part of it that's turning you on so much."

Grant stood quietly staring at Bridget for a few moments before he replied. "Yes. I guess I would have to say part of it is. But there's a lot more to it I just simply don't understand. I suddenly find myself unable to get enough of you. The moment I enter a room you're in, Big Buddy gets harder than the pecker on a wooden hobbyhorse. All I wanna do is jump your bones. And I also have to admit that I found the Genie and Master thing very exciting. But there's a lot more. I just haven't figured it all out yet. Now would you please try that costume on for me?"

"Sure thing, Stud Muffin," Bridget teased. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Would you mind putting all these outfits back in their boxes while I change? I have a feeling that by the time we're finished this evening, neither of us is gonna have enough energy to pick it up." Bridget flashed her sexiest come-hither smile and pranced out of the kitchen, carrying her new Xena, Warrior Princess outfit.

#

When Bridget strutted back into the kitchen a short time later, she found Grant sitting at the table with all the packages repacked and neatly stacked on the table. "Wow! That's hot!" Grant stared wide-eyed. "Me like!"

"So you like the idea of a little fantasy in our life, do you?" Bridget said, strolling right up to him.

Grant sat; quietly eyeing her scantily clad body up and down. The outfit she was wearing was cut like, and fit better than the costume worn by Lucy Lawless on the TV series, Xena, Warrior Princess. The main difference was the thinner, more-clingy fabric Bridget's was made of. It was definitely much more revealing than the one worn by Lucy Lawless. Grant could feel his Buddy between his legs already taking notice of the sexy creature standing before him.

"Did the wonder-bra bustier come with this outfit, or was that something you added?" Bridget asked, looking down at her now-bulging cleavage.

"I think it added a nice touch," Grant replied.

"How on Earth did you come up with the right sizes?" Bridget asked.

"That was the easy part," Grant said, obviously pleased with his ingenuity. "As soon as I mentioned the fact that you were always ordering stuff from their catalog, it was simply a matter for them to pull up all your sizes on their computer."

"Well, ain't you the smart one," Bridget teased.

"That's why I get the big bucks," Grant replied.

"I thought you got the big bucks because you're the boss," Bridget said.

"Well, that too." Grant grinned.

"Well, let me tell you something buster! That ain't the way things are around here," Bridget barked.

"Huh?" Grant was taken back by the sudden change in Bridget's attitude.

"Don't 'Huh' me you little weasel," Bridget snapped. "I ain't that little wimpy Jeanie bitch you were humping and humiliating last night and this morning. This is Xena, Warrior Princess, you're screwin' with now, you worthless piece of cow dung. You don't speak until you're spoken to and you'll do exactly as you're told! Is that understood?"

Bridget had a hard time keeping a straight face. The astonished look on Grant's face was worth a thousand bucks. His look said everything from; this is not what I had in mind, to; you've got to be kidding! Finally he mumbled something she could barely hear.

"Speak up dirtball! I can't hear you!" Bridget barked.

This time, he mumbled a bit louder, "Yes, my Princess."

"Don't look at my face when you talk to me," she barked. "You are not worthy of that privilege. You will look no higher than my cleavage. Is that also understood?"

"Yes, my Princess," Grant mumbled, staring at Bridget's stacked cleavage.

"Good. Then as long as you obey all of my rules, we'll get along just fine," Bridget said, standing with her feet apart and her hand on her hips.

"Are there any other rules I should be aware of?" Grant quietly asked.

"How dare you look into my eyes, you worthless bag of crap! I'll cut your eyes out!" Bridget barked.

Grant's eyes dove back to her chest. "Yes, my Princess."

"There is only one main rule; you'll do as I say, when I say, and exactly as I say. You will obey my commands without question and without hesitation," Bridget-Xena stated. "Any other rules will be made up as the need arises. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"