Genie in a Bottle

"What on earth are you wearing?" I ask her, as she walks back into the room in different clothes. She laughs.

"I'm pretty sure you can tell," she says, adjusting the ponytail on top of her head. The rest of the outfit appears to be pale purple leggings and some sort of sparkly bra-vest-thing. What sort of bottle does a genie like that even appear out of? A Maker's Mark bottle, probably, or maybe a Willet's, knowing this girl.

"And... are you here to grant wishes?" She nods, and perches on a chair beside the bed.

"But I'm sure you know the genie rules, right? I can't kill anyone, can't bring people back from the dead, and can't make people fall in love."

"Seems like bullshit that genies have limits, but alright, I can work with it." I stretch out on the bed, with my hands behind my head, to give it some thought. I could, of course, wish for something totally outrageous, but that would miss the point of the game. "Alright, I have my first wish. Do I have to rub something, or...?" She snickers. "Genie, I wish for you to make yourself cum while I watch."

She was probably expecting something like that; she knows I like to watch, and she's found she likes when I watch her. This isn't the first time I've suggested this, but it doesn't get old.

She stands up and runs her fingers over the tops of her breasts, which are boosted enticingly by the sparkly bra. She opens the front clasp and shrugs, letting the straps slip down her arms, then letting the rest of the bra fall away. My eyes are drawn to the pink points of her nipples, and I stare as she shimmies a bit, to peel off her leggings.

Fully naked now, she seats herself primly back on the edge of the chair, knees together and back straight, as if she's in the front of the class and ready to take notes. Then she parts her legs, and I can see the tuft of hair at the juncture of her thighs. She slips the fingers of one hand down, and begins to explore. I pull my shirt over my head as I watch her melt into her pleasure. Her eyes have closed and her legs stretch out as she leans back. The late afternoon sunlight is glowing on her skin, and her hips are moving in time with her fingers, sliding in and out of her pussy. I squeeze my cock and stare, watching the tension build in the lines of her body as she focuses little strokes on her clit, faster and faster. Her other hand is gripping the chair above her head so she doesn't fall off, and then her back arches and she's quietly moaning through an orgasm. Her fingers slow down as her body starts to relax, and in a few moments, her hand stops and her eyes open. She sits up and clears her throat.

"Ahem. Well. Wish granted," she says. "Did you want to make your second wish right now?" I nod, and gesture to my lap. I've unzipped my pants and pushed them down to my thighs, but my boxers are still on.

"Genie, for my second wish, I want you to come sit over here, and do that again."

Part II The Second Wish

Her eyes darken as she stands up and takes the two steps over to the bed. She leans forward and kisses me, as she climbs up and straddles my hips. I run my hands along her sides and up to cup her breasts. She sits up, and I slide my hands down to grasp her hips. I can feel the heat of her pussy against my erection, and I have a moment of doubt about the wisdom of this wish.

But then I see her use two fingers to spread her lips and Jesus Christ. I'm squeezing her hips so hard there are probably marks, and my cock is working its way out of the flap in my boxers like it has a mind of its own. Her hands are busy; one is pinching her nipple, and the other is stroking her clit, sometimes dipping inside. She's grinding against me, and I can hear how wet her pussy is as she fingers herself.

She meets my eye as she raises herself up enough to tug my waistband down and free my cock. I shove the underwear and pants down and awkwardly kick them away, as she wraps her hand around me. She strokes her thumb over the head, and then raises her thumb to her mouth to lick off the drops of pre-cum that she caught. With the next move of her hips, I can finally feel all of her, hot and wet and ready against my cock, and my head is spinning. She's getting close again, and I can't resist; I reach down and rub her clit, too. She drops her hands and lets me take over, her eyes closed and her head thrown back as she rides my hand until she's shuddering and gasping and coming.

It's too much, I can't wait. I grip her ass with one hand and my raging erection with the other, line myself up, and slide into her. She moans and rolls her hips, adjusting to me. I take the opportunity to pull her down and then roll us over, so I can drive harder into her. She goes wild under me, and it's just a few minutes of tongues and wandering hands and sweat-slicked skin against skin, until she's squeezing my shoulder on the outside and my cock on the inside, and then I let go. Three more pumps of my hips and I'm coming like I'm 18 again.

We're both panting as I collapse on top of her. I must be heavy, but she doesn't seem inclined to let me move just yet.

"So," she asks, "was that the second AND the third wish?"

"It was a very thorough granting of the second wish," I mutter against her shoulder. I finally shift to the side, and she yelps when I pull out. "Sorry," I add, but she waves it away. Sex is messy.

"Did you even have a third wish?" she wonders.

"Of course I did," I tell her. "I was going to use the last wish to ask for a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon." I wait a beat. "Obviously I was getting in your pants without wasting a wish on it."

She's laughing as she swats me with her pillow.