I Love a Rainy Night

(Yes this is a Bridget/Mike story. But since it's told from the POV of Mike rather than Bridget as is usual for the Nights/Days stories I didn't file it as one or the other. For those of you not familiar a "Rabbi" is a senior police official who looks out for a promising young officer and guides his/her career and assignments. Read W.E.B. Griffin's "Badge of Honor" series, both for more information and because it's such a very good look at police life.)

Sergeant Michael Gibson, Jr. paused for a moment with his hand on the button that would close the garage door and listened. There was just the faintest rumble of distant thunder, barely able to be discerned over the steadily falling rain. Good, the storm at least had passed and the rain was welcome, well it was now that he was inside and out of it.

He pushed the button and the garage door slid down. Hopping up and down on first one foot and then the other he got his soggy shoes and socks off. He spread his yellow slicker over a couple of sawhorses in the corner and glared at it. Darn thing had about done as good a job getting him wet as keeping him dry.

Unlocking the door he slipped quietly inside the house. With long familiarity he turned right and felt his way to the laundry room without turning any light on until he got there. He took off his equipment belt and carefully removed his service weapon, dropping the clip and racking the action. He caught the cartridge in mid-air and fed it back into the magazine. He then removed his two spare magazines before he reached down and loosened the ankle holster holding his back up weapon.

The weapons and ammunition went into a locking over head cupboard. His uniform; minus his badge, collar pins and nameplate, went into the washing machine. The armor vest was laid on a handy table and his soaking wet underwear followed his uniform.

Mike sighed. He really couldn't blame the slicker he supposed. It was a hot Georgia evening and the storm that had caused a multi-vehicle accident hadn't done much to lower the temperature. Instead it had just added to the humidity. It had taken hours to get the roadway clear, the vehicles hauled off and everyone involved interviewed and taken care of properly. That had meant hours of standing in the rain, walking through puddles, getting splashed by vehicles that barely slowed in spite of the plethora of emergency vehicles with flashing red and blue lights.

At least no one had been killed and though there were a number of injuries none had appeared to be serious. Mike had thought a number of times in envy about his last assignment as a Detective Sergeant in Homicide. Sure he had been in rain sometimes there but never had he got so thoroughly soaked for so long.

He would have been perfectly happy to stay there but his two Rabbis had informed him that it was time to get back into uniform and regular street police work for a while. He hadn't argued, when one Rabbi is a full Inspector and head of the entire Patrol Division and the other is a senior Deputy Inspector in charge of the Police Academy you just nod and agree when they make suggestions. That is especially true when they also happen to be your Father and Mother.

Mike shrugged, grinned and pulled on a pair of khaki shorts he plucked from a basket of clean clothes. He carried his mini-flashlight but the soft nightlights scattered down the hallway and in the bedrooms provided all the illumination he needed. He walked quietly through the house, satisfying himself that all was well.

He stopped and peeked in each bedroom, smiling happily as he checked on his little angels. Linda, their older daughter, was asleep on her tummy; Mary, their younger, was curled on her side with her arms around the enormous stuffed raccoon she always slept with. Soft breathing assured him they were both fast asleep.

Now for his biggest angel. Mike laughed to himself. Well, bigger than the tykes anyway. He stood nearly 8 inches taller than his wife, although, as she pointed out often they seemed to be just the same height lying down together.

Their bedroom door was cracked enough that Mike could see in. The rain had become lighter now and the clouds had broken enough that an errant beam of moonlight illuminated Bridget as she slept. He leaned against the wall and marveled at the woman who had been his wife for the last five years.

Any man or woman as happily partnered as he was probably thought that their finding their soul mate was a miracle. In his case there was no doubt about it. He had fallen in love with Bridget when he really couldn't even remember the mystery woman who had come through the lives of his parents and their friends for barely two nights when he was only a little boy. The memory had remained though, punctuated by the occasional discussions between his mother and father as to what might have happened to her. They knew that she was, of all things, a five hundred year old vampire who not only was not evil but had been a trusted agent of the US Government since the War Between the States.

Then she had returned, years later and he had found that the memory of her didn't even come close to the attraction he felt for her, an attraction that to his surprise she had fully reciprocated. She had been his first and his only. And far from being some unearthly creature he had found her warm and caring, full of humor and love even through her heart didn't beat. It was that same unbeating heart that had made her try to steal away one morning. It wasn't because she didn't care; in fact it was because she was falling in love with him. That had happened to her before with a mortal and had always ended in heartbreak, so she fled. But somehow, someway, he knew they were destined to be together. He had waited and hoped until the phone had rung one afternoon.

(Five years previously)

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Michael Gibson, Jr. please?" The voice was male, deep and Mike detected the faint echo of a British accent.

"That's me."

"Officer Gibson this is Deputy Director Dale of the FBI."

Mike knew who Dale was. He was another vampire on the side of the Angels, the man who had guided Bridget into acting as an operative of the British Secret Intelligence Service during the Napoleonic War. He was Bridget's oldest friend and an admitted off and on lover. Panic seized Mike for a moment. Dale had to be calling about Bridget.

"Please God, don't let anything have happened to her," he prayed silently, as he had prayed ever since she had left. He took a deep breath and spoke.

"Yes Sir?" Unable to maintain his composure he blurted "Is this about Bridget? Is she alright?"

"More than 'alright' I would say."

Mike's mouth literally fell open as Director Dale informed him of Bridget's sudden visit in the middle of the day and the miraculous event that had returned her to humanity.

"She's on her way down there right now." Did Mike imagine it or was there a bit of a wistful note in the man's voice. "I hope your feelings are as strong for her as she seems to believe they are young man. She's in love. I hope you return her love and that you will treat her right all the days of your life together."

"I will sir," promised Mike as fervently as he had ever sworn to anything in his life.

"Good. I would hate to have to come down there and kill you." The FBI official disconnected before Mike could respond. That wasn't important anyway. Bridget was coming and he had to be ready for her.

(The present)

Mike watched Bridget, HIS Bridget, sleep. She lay on one side, her hand under her head. The moonlight illuminated her; her red hair falling in curls over the cute stub nose dotted with the freckles that she never could get to go away. Her slender body shone whitely, set off by the green nightgown that did little to hide her trim body and nothing to hide her legs. Mike shook his head. She never understood just how beautiful she was, she always thought she was too skinny and flat-chested and not at all attractive. To him she was the most gorgeous woman ever to walk the earth.

Satisfied that all was well Mike walked quietly back down the hall to the far end of the house and took a quick shower. Well, he meant it to be quick but the hot water felt so good he lingered for a while. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. The rain had picked up again; he could hear it drumming on the roof. Well, it was Friday night and everyone could sleep late and tomorrow it was supposed to be clear and warm. He'd probably have to cut the grass again in a day or two though he supposed.

He checked the girls and headed for the master bedroom. As he neared the door he heard little sounds. What was going on? He peeked through the door. The moonlight was gone but there was enough illumination from the nightlight they kept burning in the bathroom in case one of the girls had a nightmare and needed their Mom and Dad. What he saw wasn't a nightmare but rather an exciting dream come true.

Bridget's night gown was draped over the foot of the bed. There was no sign of her panties so whether she had shed them or simply not worn any when she retired the end result was the same. She was nude. She stretched out like a little self-satisfied cat, her eyes closed and her hands running up and down her sides. He could have sworn he heard her purr.

Mike couldn't have moved if he had wanted to, and he certainly did NOT want to move. His wife massaged her hips, then slid her hands up over a tummy that barely showed the softness that had come from having two children. She wiggled slightly on the bed as those hands continued to work their way up until they covered her rounded breasts.

Bridget was known to think her breasts were sagging. Mike thought they were as perfect now as they were when he had first touched them, when she was a never-aging twenty-one year old, as she had been for centuries. Indeed they, as was all of her, only became sexier and more beautiful as her once again human body aged. Her nipples were peeking through her fingers now and Mike felt the stirring between his legs. He spared a quick glance to confirm that the towel was indeed tenting before returning his gaze to his wife.

Bridget's fingers were now teasing her nipples. The dark little nubbins barely showed as the woman on the bed rolled them, first one way and then the other. She tugged on them, her whole body squirming on the bed now. There was a muted gasp from her as her fingers tightened and then pinched and her body bounced up and down.

Her right hand abandoned her breast and danced back down her body. As the fingers of her left hand continued to tease the other hard nipple, the questing fingers slid between her now wide spread legs. Mike watched those fingers curl and Bridget cooed softly as her nails scratched lightly up and down the inside of her thighs.

Cooing gave way to gasps as she drug those nails through the red curls covering her mound and treated the puffy labia there to the same teasing scratches she had given her inner thighs. Mike could see droplets caught in the curls as she stroked her slit open.

Bridget's eyes were still closed. She gasped gain, louder this time as she pressed her index finger against herself and Mike watched it disappear inside her pussy. His cock was rock hard now, sticking out of the pretty much not covering much towel. When the red head lifted her finger to her mouth and sucked it in slowly Mike's hand dropped to wrap itself around his throbbing hardon.

Having sucked her finger clean, Bridget ran her nails back down her body, arching slightly as she did. She seemed to be caught up in the passion of pleasing herself now. Rather than teasing, she gave herself a couple of wet smacks between the legs, moaning at each one. Then her fingers got busy and so did Mike.

Bridget was twisting and turning on the bed now. She was plucking her nipple, jerking it and tugging her breast until it lifted from her body. It looked like she had plunged three fingers into herself and the heel of her hand was grinding just where Mike knew her clit was hidden. Her head rolled from side to side. Her legs stretched out with her toes pointing towards the foot of the bed. Squelching sounds filled the air as she furiously assaulted her pussy.

"Ah, ahhhh, ahhhhhhhh," Mike's wife writhed on the bed. She bit her lower lip and arched from the bed until her ass and lower back were completely off the bed. She tried to smother a cry and almost succeeded as her fingers blurred in and out of her dripping wet pussy. Mike's hand was sliding up and down his cock, moving faster with each moment as he watched Bridget masturbate.

Suddenly she let out a deep moan of pleasure. "Oh yessssssssss," she sighed and sank back onto the bed. Her fingers still moved but they moved slowly now, seemingly doing nothing more than keeping her, well, he wasn't sure what she was doing as her body settled back against the mattress.

God she looked so hot. Mike rarely needed any encouragement at all to jump his wife but right now he was so excited he had a rough time not flinging the door open and leaping onto her in surprise. Of course, as he admitted to himself, that would be a bad idea. Bridget might no longer be inhumanly fast and strong, but she DID have three hundred years of martial arts training and practice. In spite of his arousal he had to grin at the memory of a drunk at a New year's party a couple of years ago who mistook friendliness for invitation and put his hands on Bridget and tried to kiss her. It had taken her about five seconds to flip him over her shoulder and pin a suddenly VERY sober man better than twice her size to the ground with one foot. Mike didn't want to ruin the mood by having her react like that.

His dilemma was solved when, without opening her eyes, the red head on the bed spoke up.

"Mike, if you waste that erection on your hand you are in BIG trouble!"

He laughed, a deep belly laugh that touched off an infectious grin from his wife. Her eyes opened and she crooked her finger at him.

"Come here big boy."

That was all the invitation than Mike needed. He took three steps to the bed and all but fell on top of her. As he lowered himself her hand replaced his on his cock and she guided his shaft to her warm wet sheath. He gave one gentle thrust and buried himself all the way into her.

"Ahhhhhhh," she groaned with satisfaction as she wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed.

"Indeed," he replied before his mouth found hers and they kissed deeply. He braced himself with one hand and cupped her breast with the other. She ran her fingers through his hair and then gripped his shoulders.

Their two bodies moved, each responding to the other. Mike moved slowly in and out of Bridget, rolling his hips as he did so his cock penetrated her at different angles and wiggled inside of her. Bridget's strong legs allowed her to lift herself from the bed to meet each of his downstrokes.

The image of his beautiful wife touching and feeling herself roused Mike to a near fury of desire. He wanted to see her face twisted in pleasure, hear her moan and beg for him. He wanted to make her orgasm again and again and feel her body go wild under his.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, much as his cock plunged into her pussy. Her tongue dueled with his and she sucked the saliva from it. He kept kissing her as his hands braced on either side of her shoulders. Then he reared up and commenced riding her with long deep hard strokes. Each thrust bottomed in her and her could feel the head squishing against the soft special spot deep in her.

"Oh God YES!" she breathed. "Mike, Mikie, my darling, my love. More, please, more. Take me all the way. Her words were broken and pleading as she gasped in the delicious excitement of her husband's cock pounding her. His eyes met hers, alive and bright with desire. He managed to speed up. His hips blurred as he drove in and out of her. Her heels drummed on his back and she arched violently under him, almost pitching his body off hers in her frantic upheavals.

Mike grinned even as he hung on determinedly, his hips still thrusting as Bridget writhed in her release. She managed to muffle a cry of passion by burying her face into his chest. Her reactions only made him more frantic himself and he tried to drive his cock all the way through her as she went off in a series of orgasms one after the other. He felt his own body responding to her as the buildup in his groin reached the point of no return. He kissed her once more as his body shook and he emptied the aching contents of his balls deep into his wife's pussy.

Bridget released her legs but Mike stayed on top of and inside her until his erection slowly faded. Finally he rolled to one side and gathered her into his arms. She snuggled there for a moment and then wiggled away and sprang from the bed. Still nude she slipped into the hallway. Less than a minute later she returned. Mike sighed happily as he watched her body sway as she scrambled back onto the bed and nestled against him, her head pillowed on his chest.

"What was that about?" he inquired. He realized the answer even as she replied.

"Just checking on the girls." She giggled and kissed his chest. "I know we try to keep it down. but what you do to me."

"What I do to YOU?" grinned Mike as he stroked her hair. "Okay, that was the most arousing thing, watching you. For how long did you know I was there?"

A soft laugh came back. "The whole time silly. I heard you when you came home and I knew the girls were sound asleep. So after you checked on us and got into the shower I took off my nightgown and got ready." She lifted her head. "What kept you? I didn't think you were EVER going to get back here and my fingers were itching something awful."

"Why you little minx!" Mike exclaimed. "You set me up."

"Any complaints?" Bridget batted her eyes at her husband and then winked.

"Not in the slightest. It was incredibly hot sweetheart. I have to admit it, thinking you didn't know I was there was an additional turn on."

"My, my, my. I noticed darling." She stretched and kissed him before cuddling back with him again with a yawn. "Its scandalous that you get turned on so much by seeing me masturbate. But not near as scandalous as how much I am in love with you Mike."

"I adore you too Bridget."

Both of them fell asleep shortly. One remained that way while the other woke back up and rolled her eyes.

"One day I'm going to tell him we have GOT to find a way to make him stop snoring. Mike! Roll over!"

(The End)

(The idea for this came to me when I was rereading "The Trap" and Bridget recalled how "scandalously excited" Mike got when he caught her masturbating. What can I say? My husband is the same way. Perverts, all of you guys, and we females love it.)