"I wish you'd returned the favor."

"Geez. I wish you at least offered to return the favor," fumed Tiffany, partially grumpy because she'd stayed up so late in order to find that her beau seemed to be completely unable to get it up -- at all.

"But I did!" cried Brad, still recalling the uncharacteristic offer he made. Having been used to have woman falling head over heels for his sports-star self, going down on a woman was not usually anything he felt obliged or required to do. With Tiffany though, her odd quietness regarding his size and her not saying anything at all really made him feel nervous she might spill his secret to all her female friends.

Afraid and nervous, there was no way for him to know that while in this post-reality wish that was true, in Tiffany's reality he had not offered anything of the sort.

"Liar...you didn't even offer to drive on the way home," replied Tiffany but in her head "I wish he'd at least offered to drive me home". In that instance, reality changed for everyone else and they all remembered the change as the way it had always been.

"What? But I did! I so offered to drive home!" cried Brad in his defense, suddenly feeling like he was talking to someone having a psychotic break that couldn't remember details which happened literately moments ago.

Across town, Jessica's dream was getting more intense as her female genie master continued to make wish after wish, which she couldn't quite make out, and inflicting changes on sadly figures. For a moment, she swore the two victims, shaded in black, had bodies similar to her nerdy stalker Kevin and Brad, only the bodies changed substantially post-wish. 'Kevin' went from being average to ridiculously hugely hung ,and 'Brad' from pretty large to well below average.

Shuddering in escalating arousal with each wish, she was getting closer and closer to the verge of orgasm. At that point she woke up, and once awake she contemplated the dreams. Jessica knew she wasn't a ring-genie anymore that was **** to just randomly grant wishes of the ring's owner, but these dreams were intense.

More than anything, she was annoyed that her dreams now seemed to all be about her granting wishes non-stop. She guessed her genie-self had to express itself somehow, and her subconscious was still at turmoil knowing the truth behind what happened to her mother.

Tiffany was fuming as she drove home at high speed, eager to get home and thinking she was grateful this late and this far out of town, she wouldn't ever run into any cops or traffic. Looking at the clock, it was already 1:58 am. First, Brad couldn't get it up and was only a fraction of his regular size. Next, he'd acting really shady, claiming to be a gentleman and having offered to go down on her and drive when he was really a frugal little bitch.

Meanwhile, Brad was really nervous about this whole evening. The past few nights, Tiffany had seemed to be really into him, making out passionately, giving very enthusiastic hand jobs, and his small size didn't seem to phase her one bit. Even if he wasn't the 'thundercock' every woman believed Brad to be from the persistent rumors, she'd been into him.

Now, she was borderline freaking out, seemingly out of touch with reality and Brad was worried she was going to spill the beans about his size. Figuring it would be best to broach the topic, he asked, "So about tonight and, um, my performance?"

"You mean when you came in 45 seconds inside my mouth? Seriously, I wish you weren't a minute man and could actually last a while," snapped Tiffany as she rubbed her jaw. For whatever reason, she felt a bit sore. She must have pulled something eating because there's no way her chin was sore from that 45-seconds of disappointment.

Yawning, Tiffany felt a lot more tired suddenly and looked at the clock a little confused, thinking 3:21? Where did that time go? She swore she just read the clock and it said 1:58 moments ago. She was so preoccupied she barely heard Brad's defense of his less minute-man performance.

"What?! 45 seconds? No way, babe. I lasted like over an hour, babe. Maybe more," cried Brad, defending his stamina, "but no, I meant I was wondering if you wanted to talk about ...my size." Tiffany just rolled her eyes aware there was a vast gap between 45 seconds and an hour, but whatever "Brad" and his ego required him to tell himself.

"Look, I'm not going to say anything about that," firmly stated Tiffany, taking a slightly odd tone to her voice. She was going to mock him for his poor size, but instead the words coming out of her mouth didn't seem to match what she 'wanted' to really say. In a strange way, Brad recalled back to his wish while making out that she wouldn't say anything about his size.

"Okay," thought Brad as he drifted off, "Fine, be a bitch. Way to ruin my night."

"Ruin your night? God, you're the one with a micro penis that lasts moments and has been lying his ass off. I wish I was in a nice comfy bed, already sound asleep," replied Tiffany so ready to be done with the night.

Waking up once again in a screaming orgasm, Jessica heard Tiffany's voice reverberating throughout her head, " I wish you weren't a minute man...". Left panting from her long, drawn out orgasm, Tiffany wondered if she just imagined hearing that voice and couldn't quite place whose voice it was. Figuring it was just an intense erotic dream, she put her head back onto her pillow, only to have her eye shot open as she heard Tiffany's voice state, "I wish I was in a nice comfy bed, sleeping soundly already."

"Oh god no!" thought Jessica as she shot up in bed, remembering how her first wishes made her feel, "How? Why? I'm supposed to be free!"