Over Easy

"Took you long enough at the store." You complain as you let Trisha, or "T" as you affectionately call your girlfriend, into your apartment and escort her to the kitchen. Looking over the high heels and your topcoat she is wearing you have to ask, "Catch anyone checking out those legs?"

"I can believe you made me wear this in public!" The curvy brunette gripes as she puts the groceries next to the stove. "You're really going to make me do this?"

"What do you think?" You grin triumphantly. "You knew the penalty for losing the wager. And I expect payment in full."

"Jerk." Trisha objects but still drops the topcoat to the floor, revealing a skimpy black bra, thong and leggings underneath. You know your hyper competitive girlfriend is still a little pissed about losing the bet, but you're not complaining when considering the rewards.

As Trisha takes the eggs, bacon and bread out of the grocery bag you grab a lounge chair from the living room and place it ten feet away from the stove to get the best view of your hot girlfriend cooking your favorite meal while wearing nothing but lingerie and high heels.

"You know what they say." You cannot help but gloat, "A good woman never leaves her man hungry or horny." Trisha without looking up from the stove gives you the finger. "Oh, we will be getting to that shorty," you smile, "don't worry."

The show that follows is simply amazing. Trisha's curvy, toned and buxom body is stunningly highlighted by the revealing lingerie and though it's completely neanderthal of you, it's thrilling to see your smart and strong willed girlfriend slaving away over a stove cooking your favorite meal, bacon & eggs, over easy. You almost start to feel guilty, even with your raging hard on, until Trisha turns on some music and begins to sway about while starting the toast and prepping the eggs. It confirms that her complaints about losing are only partially felt and that she is enjoying herself too. You nearly die, however, when "You Sexy Thing" by Hot Chocolate comes on and she gets those full hips of hers rocking to the old 1970's funk while mouthing the lyrics.

The dance show is fun, but the frying of the bacon surprisingly turns out to be the most stimulating. A tiny glob of splatting grease lands on Trisha's upper thigh causing her to jump back so quickly that she drops the spatula and nearly looses her bra when one of her shoulder straps slides down her arm.

"You okay?" You lean forward, concerned about your girlfriend.

"Yeah." She looks at her leg and then fixes her bra. "It stings, but it doesn't burn, but how the hell am I suppose to cook with grease while half naked, can I least put on an apron?"

"I don't think so." You reply and recline back into your chair once assured T isn't really in danger, "Sucks to lose."

Muttering a few choice swears under her breath Trisha goes back to the stove. "Damn it!" She complains, "The bacon is burnt."

"You'll have to start again." You smile, pleased the show will be prolonged.

After putting a new batch of protein into the frying pan Trisha grabs a clean spatula, but before she gets within arms reach of the pan the bacon sizzles and gives a loud pop, causing another bit of grease to hit her square in her stomach. This time she doesn't jump back, but instead you watch her tight abdomen clench in, while her ass juts out as she gives a slight groan. Biting her lower lip Trisha moves near to the stove and hesitantly bends over to flip the bacon. When the new uncooked side hits the pan now full of extra grease from the two servings an even more violent popping happens, spraying a thin mist of hot grease upward landing across her chest. Trisha's bra is so skimpy, and her assets so ample, however, there is little protection and her bare cleavage takes the bulk of the spray.

"Fuck that stings!" She immediately straightens up and bounces in place a few time, causing her sizable tits to jiggle about in a most provocative manner. From the tone of her voice you are not sure if she is angry, aroused, or some strange mixture of both, either way, you, like the grease, are about ready to explode.

You're able to contain yourself as Trisha finishes cooking and plates the meal. Sauntering over to you she sarcastically bows, "Here you go, your majesty."

"Thank you, T." You accept your victory meal. "Now to the last part of your payment for losing."

"Here it comes." Trisha mutters.

"I think another test of a differ set of girlfriend skills are in order," you risk, pushing the envelope of your girlfriend's pride and gambling addiction. "While I eat I want you to . . ." you intentionally pause, "strip off your bra, get on your knees and give me a blow job."

Trisha groans, rolling her eyes. "I knew that was coming the moment I lost, but how is it a test?"

"Well," you barely keep from laughing, enjoying your feminist leaning girlfriend being disgruntled about your caveman attitude, "Which primal appetite of a man are you best at satisfying, his desire for food or sex?"

"So if you cum before finishing the meal it means I'm better at sex than cooking?" Trisha puts her hands on her hips while giving you a contemptuous look.

"Yes it does! And for that failure I will have to take you to your favorite, most expensive, downtown, restaurant tonight so you can witness the professionals at work."

"Oh!" Trisha gives a smile, liking the thought of forcing you to pay for a pricey date while making you wear a hated tie and jacket. "And I get to pick the wine, no matter the cost?"

"Yes, no matter the cost." You nod, putting hundreds of dollars on the line.

"I like this!" She answers, but then her eyes narrow with concern. "Wait a minute." She begins to catch on what you're up to, "And if I can't make you cum in time? Then what happens?"

You ponder for a second how far you can push Trisha's competitive inclinations. "Not being able to cook is one thing," you start speaking not fully knowing where you're taking this, "but not knowing how to make your boyfriend cum, that's completely unacceptable. Don't you think?" Going for broke you decide to ask for the . Hedging your bets, however, you put on an exaggerated tough guy voice, so you can try to laugh it off as a joke if Trisha objects, which you guess she probably will. "For that failure, woman, the sternest correction is required." Taking a deep breath you double down. "T, I'm going to lite up that pretty little rear of yours until it is as red as the bacon you burnt. And by that I mean you'll be going over my lap and taking a hard spanking, until you're willing to give up your virgin ass."

Trisha goes silent, which is a bit unnerving. At least she doesn't immediately slap you and storm off. Finally, with deadpan voice states, "I see" and then goes quiet again with a queer pondering look. Another interminable few seconds tick by and you think it might be wise to now apologize, but before you can speak your girlfriend plainly declares, "Fine, for that kind of meal, it's worth the risk. I'll take the wager," and reaches up and unclasps her bra.