Grant's hands gripped Bridget by her shoulders, holding her body tight against his gyrating hips as he pushed himself as deep and as hard as he could into her begging womanhood. Leslie's lover was holding and pounding into her the same way.

Bridget saw Leslie's mouth fly open and heard an unrestrained, out-of-control scream in the same instant the entire world exploded deep inside of her own body. Grant's hands slid down to Bridget's narrow waist, holding her behind tight against his groin. The movement of his powerful hips had come to an abrupt halt. His hardness was pressing deeper inside of her than she could ever remember it being. And it was blasting round after round of his wonderful hot juices straight into her very soul. Each time his long shaft would jump and shoot another round into her, her insides would respond with another wave of pleasure radiating throughout her convulsing body.

The beautiful Leslie seemed to be suffering the same delightful fate. Bridget desperately wanted to kiss Leslie's warm, pink lips as their masters were exploding inside each of them and their own bodies were erupting in response. Grant could hear Bridget whispering, "Leslie, I love you," as he watched her straining her neck to reach her reflection in the mirror. He eased her forward slightly, and came again with renewed vigor as he watched his wife softly kissing the girl in the mirror, their tongues slowly dancing together against the cold, hard glass.

Grant had no clue what it was all about, except that it really turned him on to watch Bridget and whoever this Leslie girl was she was seeing in the mirror.

Bridget tilted her hips upward slightly to allow better penetration when she felt Grant moving inside her again just before he sent her screaming into Leslie's open mouth as another round of ecstasy racked her insides. Huge waves of pleasure crashed against each other all through her body as Grant and her merged together in orgasmic bless the likes of which they had never before achieved.

Bridget's arms flew out to embrace Leslie as their moments of pleasure peaked at nearly unbearable heights. Leslie's hands met Bridget's halfway. Their lips met again. Their tongues slipped around each other. The two women remained in their handholding embrace, moaning and groaning, until Bridget saw the man behind Leslie collapse on top of her. She suddenly felt Grant's weight ease comfortably down over her own body.

Bridget could tell Grant was exhausted and spent. But she could also feel his Big Buddy still deep inside of her, and he definitely didn't seem interested in calling it a night yet.

She looked up at Leslie in the mirror. "Whataya think, Leslie. Can we get one more good run outta these guys before they pass out from exhaustion?"

Leslie just smiled. Enough said. Bridget smiled back.

Grant rested atop his wife, wondering who Leslie really was and why Bridget was talking to her in the mirror. But at the moment, he really didn't care; he could feel his desire returning with renewed energy. He wasn't sure if the rest of his body was going to be able to handle it or not, but his Big Buddy was more than ready to finish the job properly.

Grant tried to get up off of Bridget, but his body wasn't quite ready to comply with his wishes.

Bridget smiled at Leslie again. "I guess it must be our turn. The boys seem to be a bit worn out."

Leslie grinned in agreement and both women began squirming their way out from under their respective man. Both groaned with disappointment when they felt their lover's still-hard shafts slipping out of them. But they both knew, it wouldn't take them long to get those nice big, excited things right back where they belonged, deep in the heart of the matter.

#

Once Bridget was out from underneath him, Grant collapsed into his chair and rolled onto his back. Through tired eyes, he looked up at his smiling wife. "What the hell's going on?" He mumbled. "I've never been like this before. I'm still hard as a rock and horny as a three-dicked dog. I don't understand what's wrong."

"Don't worry about it, Master. Your genie will take care of it for you," Bridget-Genie cooed, as she started to climb onto his lap.

"Wait a second," Grant mumbled. "The chair."

Bridget stopped. "What about the chair?"

"It's the wrong way," Grant replied.

"What do you mean?" Bridget asked.

"You won't be able to see Les…" Grant caught himself just in time. He still had no idea who or what Leslie was. And at the moment, he didn't want Bridget to know he even knew she existed. "I mean, I won't be able to see us in the mirror." Grant lied.

"You like watching us make love in the mirror?" Bridget asked.

"Yes, it's very exciting." This time he wasn't lying, except by the word "us," he meant Bridget and Leslie, not Bridget and him.

Bridget climbed from his lap and struggled to turn the big recliner toward the mirror with Grant still in it. But, as earlier stated, determination was on her side tonight and she managed to get it turned so its extended footrest was only a few inches from the mirror. Before she climbed back onto Grant's lap, she carefully pulled the top of her costume off over her blond wig. The cute little hat tumbled to the floor, but the wig stayed put.

Climbing over the arm of chair, Bridget stood above Grant on her knees, straddling his hips, wrapping her fingers around his already-ready-to-rock penis, she began guiding it to its intended target.

"No, no," Grant found the strength to speak.

"Don't you 'no, no' me, Buster," Bridget snapped. "Your big buddy has one more mission to accomplish tonight before you're done!" She continued to ease herself down onto him as she spoke. She gasped when his hardness suddenly sank all the way inside of her wet, slippery, hot tunnel.

"No, no," Grant begged. "I mean, you need to turn around so you're facing the mirror. I want to see your face in the mirror."

"Oh!" Bridget agreed. She tried to turn around without allowing him to slip out of her. It didn't work, but it was no problem to guide him back home as soon as she got turned around. Again Bridget eased back down on his long hard member. She gasped again the moment it passed that little point of restriction and suddenly dove nearly to her heart. At least, that's how deep it felt to Bridget, and isn't that all that really mattered at the moment.

She began to slowly gyrate her hips back and forth. The sensation this movement created in her was fantastic. It felt so wonderful, she could hardly breathe, for the first time in their marriage, Bridget was glad Grant's big buddy was no larger than he was at the moment. She was certain she could take no more. The head of that beautiful monster was gently pressing against the deepest portions of her body as she slowly rocked back and forth.

Feeling her passion rising again, she began to move faster. She smiled at Leslie when she saw Leslie's lover's hands slide over her tummy and gradually work their way up to her breasts. Bridget gasped when she saw his hands gently cup both of Leslie's heaving breasts and tenderly squeeze her swollen nipples between his large fingers. The look on Leslie's face was exquisite. She seemed to be experiencing total pleasure, just like Bridget.

Bridget thought she was as satisfied as humanly possible until the throes of the most intense orgasm she had ever known, suddenly, without warning, raged through her soul. She heard Leslie's wonderful scream, but was unable to force her eyes open enough to watch her during such a powerful moment. Bridget's own moment was just as powerful. This one, she was going to enjoy alone, with Grant. Leslie would just have to enjoy her own excitement for now.

Bridget's attention was completely focused on what her wonderful husband and his delightful big buddy were doing to her body at that instant. And they were doing some delicious things to her. She felt Grant's hands drop from her excited breasts and grab her gyrating hips. She felt his body tighten under her and his hips trying to rise up to meet her. She could feel his hardness deep inside of her, growing even larger and pressing deeper. "Oh my God!" Bridget screamed as their bodies became one. She felt his first spasm jerk so forceful inside her that she couldn't tell how deep it actually was. But she was certain she could feel his hot juices splashing against her heart.

Her heart quickly responded by sending a deluge of her lady cum down over his pulsating member, her straining thighs, and soaked him from waist to thighs. Bridget tried to raise up off of him a little. He was actually too deep inside of her. But Grant held her tight by her now frozen hips. She couldn't move. Her entire body was totally encased in the raptures of Heaven and Earth. Her juices flowed from her in complete abandon, as Grant's big buddy continued to blast away at her heart.

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Bridget's body went limp and collapsed back against Grant, who gently cuddled her in his arms, and softly kissed her ear. He took his arms from around her long enough to recline the chair back the rest of the way. As he slipped his arms back around her motionless body, he could feel the final, weak pulsations in his lions and the slow, gentle contractions of her relaxing insides greeting those final spasms.

Grant kissed her cheek as she slowly turned her head to snuggle it against his sweat-covered neck. "I guess you and Leslie have finally had enough," he whispered as he kissed her soft cheek one last time. He wondered how she could lay there on top of him with her legs folded up under her at the knees like that. But she seemed happy, comfortable, and satisfied.

As far as Grant was concerned, he was absolutely delighted. He couldn't move from the wonderful position he was in even if the house caught on fire. He looked at Bridget's beautiful reflection in the mirror. "I hope you're satisfied too Leslie, whoever the hell you are. But I promise you this; mark my words. I will get to know you better. And soon. I think you're the key that will save this marriage. Thank you."

Grant quickly dropped off to sleep, still holding Bridget tight, still deep inside of her.

#

Grant awoke the next morning to the wonderful smell of fresh coffee brewing and bacon frying. He lay stark naked in his chair. He couldn't remember taking his clothes off, nor could he remember his genie doing it for him, and she was gone. His clothing lay in a heap on the floor beside the chair.

Looking down at his now-not-so-big buddy, Grant wondered, had it all really happened, or had it just been some kind of wild, fantastic dream?

When he got up from the chair and started putting his clothes back on, he discovered his body ached all over and his poor, sad-looking, now-shriveled big buddy was as sore as a whipped puppy. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to walk down the hall to the kitchen and those delicious aromas.

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, he froze in place. A sexy genie-type woman stood at the stove preparing breakfast. He thought to himself with a huge grin, nope, it wasn't a dream!

Easing quietly up behind Bridget, he slipped his arms around her slim waist, gave her a gentle hug, and a light kiss on her exposed shoulder.

Bridget glanced back. "Well, good morning, my handsome master. I was just about to wake you for breakfast. I figured you'd probably be pretty hungry this morning."

"Hungry isn't the appropriate word for how I feel right now," Grant replied.

Bridget snuggled back against him. She was really enjoying the comfort of having her husband's arms around her in such a cuddly manner. It had been years since he'd slipped up behind her and hugged her like this. "Oh, so you're way past hungry and well on you way to malnutrition," she teased.

"Well, I am hungry, but that's not what I was talking about," Grant replied, squeezing her a little tighter.

"Are you feeling okay?" Bridget asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder again, praying he wasn't having some kind of reaction or side effect from the Viagra she had slipped him at supper the night before.

"Oh, I'm feeling fine," he answered with a smile, as his hands slid up to tenderly cup her breasts. "In fact, I'm feeling even better now."

"Oh my!" Bridget exclaimed, pressing her breasts firmly into his gentle, kneading hands. "What's gotten into you?"

"I haven't a clue," Grant replied. "But, I sure hope last night wasn't just a one-shot deal."

"Oh no, you don't have to worry about that," Bridget teased. "I think you probably shot at least three or four times last night. They were all pretty darn good shots too! And I'll tell ya something else, buster, you keep tweaking my nipples like you are right now, I'm gonna demand a rematch, and soon!"

Grant hadn't even realized he was gently rolling her blooming nipples between his fingers. His hands quickly dropped from her breasts.

She grabbed his hands and pulled them back to where they had been. "Hey! I didn't say you had to stop everything! What's wrong, you afraid of a rematch?" Bridget teased.

"I'm not, but I think my big, I mean, my little buddy's plum tuckered out this morning. You gave him one helluva workout last night," Grant answered with his best poor-pitiful-me look.

Bridget turned around in his arms and tried to bend down. "Does my master wish me to kiss it all better for him?"

Grant allowed her to turn around, but at the moment, he wasn't ready for anything she could do while bent over in front of him. He pulled her into his full embrace and pressed his lips to hers. Her arms snaked up around his neck. Her lips parted for his insistent tongue. It was a warm, passionate kiss, reminiscent of the old days when they had first started dating. His tongue slowly explored every inch of her eager mouth.

She finally pulled away from his kiss; she needed air. But more than air; she needed her body to cool down a few hundred degrees. Even though she was quite sore from the fabulous, nearly non-stop pounding he had given her the night before, she quickly found herself aching for more. Also, she didn't want to push Grant too far and ruin the fantastic progress they had made in the last twelve hours. Last night's sex had been even better than it had been on their wedding night, or any other night for that matter.

"You'd better stop that," she joked. "You're gonna cause me to burn your bacon."

"I think you pretty much burnt it up last night," Grant replied, trying to sound serious.

Bridget's hand gently slid up Grant's crotch. "It might have gotten a little over done last night, but I don't think there'll be any permanent disfigurement or scarring."

He grabbed her hand, but didn't pull it away. "Careful there! Big Buddy had a headache this morning."

Bridget could feel a bulge starting to expand in Grant's crotch. "That may by true," she cooed. "But he doesn't seem to mind. Besides, I have some special aspirins just for him. " Her tongue slowly glided over her upper lips.

"Ah, geez, Bridget! Don't do that!" Grant begged.

"Yes, Master," Bridget-genie replied, slipping back into her genie roll.

"And don't start with that, 'yes master' stuff either," Grant ordered.

"Yes, Master. I mean, no Master. Whatever my master wishes," Bridget-genie teased as her hand tightened around the growing bulge in the front of his pants. I think my master is developing a very serious problem."

"Yeah, and the problem is, he's out of ammo and too damn stupid to realize it," Grant replied.

"I don't know," Bridget cooed, "his barrel sure is getting bigger."

"Stop that!" Grant snapped, pulling her hand away.

"Does my master not wish me to check to see if he has ammo or not?" Bridget-genie asked with a sexy grin.

"No, I do not," Grant replied. "Right now all your master wishes to do is eat."

"Yes, Master, right away," Bridget-genie said. Pulling a chair out from the table, she slipped the bottom portion of her genie costume down around her ankles, sat down on the chair, and spread her legs for him. "Okay, your genie is ready now, Master. But please be gentle, Jeanie is very sore down there this morning."

Grant just stood there staring at her for a few moments, his mouth hanging open. "Bridget, quit fooling around. I'm starving."

"I am sorry, my master. Perhaps my master wishes to save this for dessert," Bridget-genie replied as she pulled her costume back on.

"Bridget!" Grant snapped.

"Okay, okay! I was just having a little fun with you," Bridget replied and quickly went about getting their breakfast on the table.

#

A few minutes later they were sitting across the table from each other enjoying breakfast. Grant was finding it difficult to keep his eyes off of Bridget.

"I have to admit, I really like you in that genie outfit," Grant said, sipping at his coffee after he had finished eating. He knew in his heart there was more to it than just the outfit, but he had no idea what it was.

"You just like the idea of being the master," Bridget said.

"Yeah, that's it," Grant agreed with a big grin. "I like being in charge and in control of everything."

"Oh yeah? And just how much do you think you were in charge last night?" Bridget smiled back at him, her eyebrows rose high in question. "I believe, if you think about it, the only one in control, of anything last night was that little friend of yours between your legs."

Grant sat in silence for a moment before he looked down into his lap. "Yeah." He shook his finger at his crotch. "Bad Buddy, bad Buddy! You've got to learn to behave like a gentleman."

Bridget jumped up, ran around the table, knelt beside Grant's chair, and began petting the bulge in the front of his pants like it was a little puppy. "Don't talk mean to him like that," Bridget snapped, looking up at Grant. "He's a nice Buddy. You leave him alone. I like him just the way he was last night." Her eyes turned down to the rapidly growing bulge under her hand. "Don't you listen to him. He's just a mean old man. You just keep acting like you did last night and we'll get along just fine. You'll be my big buddy from now on."

"You know something lady?" Grant said, looking down at his wife. He put his hand under her chin and gently turned her face up toward his. There was a gleam in his eyes Bridget had not seen in many years. "I think you're about half crazy." Leaning forward, he gave her a tiny kiss on her forehead.

Bridget smiled and squeezed the hard bulge in her hand. "I think this big fella drove me way past half-crazy last night."

"Well, if you keep doing what you're doing, you're gonna have to deal with him again this morning," Grant said. He had that look of desire on his face that had been there so many years ago.

"You've got to be kidding," Bridget said. "I thought you said you were sore."

"I am, but he doesn't seem to care. I tell ya the truth; that little bastard has no conscience whatsoever. He wants what he wants when he wants it," Grant replied. "And right now, he seems to want anything you've got for him!"

"I've been trying for years to get that kind of attention from you, and him too," Bridget spoke so softly that Grant could barely hear her as she continued rubbing the ever-expanding bulge in his pants.

"Well, I don't know exactly what you're doing, and to tell the truth, I really don't care at this point. But whatever it is, you've most definitely got our attention," Grant replied.

Bridget said nothing. She knew what she was doing, but she wasn't stupid enough to tell him. She just smiled up at him and continued her gentle massage of the now-full-size protrusion in the front of his pants.

"Would you please stop that?" Grant snapped. "I have a few important matters to take care of today and I can't very well get them done with you hanging on to me like this!"

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 I want 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 now little 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 stuff is 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?"