Bridget the Bossy Bridezilla

When Ben got back, Bridget would be calm, logical and reasonable when their fight was inevitably discussed. But in her mind, she knew what she had done with Ben's brother, and this revenge was very, very sweet. Brushing Pumpkin, Bridget pondered how Ben's night had gone.

*

After storming out of the house, Ben had driven south towards the Gold Coast, fuming about the row with Bridget and scarcely able to concentrate on his driving. On the motorway through Logan, Ben's concentration wavered and he nearly allowed his car to drift into the adjacent lane occupied by a large cement truck, the toot of its' horn alerting Ben to the serious danger and allowing him to take corrective action inches from disaster, Ben waving an apology to the truck driver as the enormous vehicle sped by.

Queensland's northern latitude caused it to have early sunsets that came on quickly, with little to no twilight and tonight was no exception. It was completely dark by the time Ben reached the Gold Coast, and his mood failed to improve as he negotiated through the heavy traffic of the tourist suburbs of Southport and Surfer's Paradise, continuing on to Broadbeach.

The address where the Kovich house was located was away from the beachside where towering high-rises dominated the Gold Coast skyline and one of the many canals that could be found in the region. Ben drove through the perfect streets, passing one mansion after another; houses that if one had to ask how much they cost, then one could not afford to buy one.

Checking the map, Ben turned into the street and pulled into the driveway of the house. He looked up at the enormous white mansion, which with its turrets and ostentatious exterior décor looked somewhat like an Eastern European castle from Romania or Bulgaria. Ben had heard Kevin frequently refer to Tracy Kovich as a 'witch', this interchanged with 'bitch' on other occasions and as he got out of his car, Ben could easily imagine this house being home to a witch. Perhaps the woman planned to trick him into looking into the oven so she could push him inside, then cook and eat him? If so she might be doing him a favor, such was Ben's apprehension at returning home to his angry fiancée.

Walking up to the front door, Ben breathed heavily, nervous about meeting the client from Hell. She had driven Kevin, a competent and professional architect to the point of a nervous breakdown, and Ben had enough problems with one difficult woman in his life. He didn't need a second one; that was for sure.

Ben pressed the doorbell, and heard it chiming loudly. Ben waited apprehensively as the door opened, the first thing entering his line of sight a large black cat and his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps this really was a witch's house after all?

The door opened more to reveal the woman who held the cat. She was probably aged in her early forties, very slim and attractive with long brown hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a pink tee-shirt that was tight around her shapely, large breasts and a pair of black-stirrup pants, her feet bare.

Ben, expecting to see a formidable old battle-axe was surprised that the woman who answered the door was so attractive, and thought maybe she was an employee, a live in-housekeeper perhaps. That had to be it.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I'm Ben Marshall, I'm from the architecture firm. I have an appointment with Mrs. Kovich."

"We'll, I'm Mrs. Kovich," said the woman, as she placed the cat down and opened the door to let him inside. "But please call me Tracy. Mrs. Kovich is my mother-in-law. I would have preferred Mrs. Kovich remained in Croatia, but my husband insisted on bringing her to Australia to live. Oh well."

"Nice to meet you Tracy," said Ben. He was absolutely stunned. Tracy Kovich was so different from how he imagined her. The only other time he had been so wrong about a person's appearance was the year earlier when he imagined a man he was dealing with at a construction company in town was a tall, muscled Adonis type, only to find he was in fact a short, fat, balding middle-aged man with glasses when they finally met in person.

Tracy placed the cat down and shook hands with Ben, Ben again surprised at the strength in the woman's hand. Despite her slender fingers, Tracy had a grip that was the equivalent to a rugby player. "So Ben, I have one question for you. Are you more competent than that idiot Kevin?"

Ben was struck dumb, not wanting to speak badly of his colleague, but not wanting to put the client offside either. Fortunately Tracy rescued him with a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm only kidding around, I don't expect you to answer. But he is an idiot, a complete and utter fool. It wouldn't be much harder for you to be better than him, believe me."

"I have some ideas for your guest house that might interest you," said Ben.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Tracy. "I'm just finishing off my yoga session, perhaps you can tell me about them while I finish? Don't worry, I've raised two kids and I run my own business, I can do two or more things at once, believe me."

Ben followed Tracy into the enormous and ornate living room and took a seat in an armchair, watching as Tracy knelt down on a mat and stretched out like a cat. Ben opened his folder and was about start speaking, but found no sound came out of his mouth as he became distracted at the sight of Tracy in her stretching position.

Her bottom was thrust in the air, the skin-tight fabric of Tracy's stirrup pants showing off her curvy buttocks. The outline of Tracy's panty elastic could be seen through her tight leggings and at the top they had come down slightly, showing a slight view of Tracy's pink knickers. Between her legs, Ben could see the oval-shaped indent of Tracy's vagina through the fabric, and as his glance went down her shapely legs to her bare feet, the stirrups of her leggings tight around the arches.

"Well come on, sell me your ideas," Tracy prompted.

"Yes, um, of course," Ben stammered, still distracted by this extremely attractive woman with a wonderful figure stretching out in front of him. To his horror, he felt the stirrings of an erection in his groin and told himself that getting an erection over a client - admittedly a beautiful client - was completely inappropriate and unprofessional.

This failed to work and Ben's erection grew harder and harder as Tracy changed her position on the yoga mat, sitting directly upright her feet together and once again the shape of her vagina visible through her ultra-tight stirrup pants. Ben tried to think of other things to distract himself and tried thinking about Bridget and the massive fight they had had. This should work. Unfortunately, it only made things worse as the mental images of Bridget that appeared in his mind's eye were of her in a much better mood, naked or in her bra and knickers.

Sounding more like his younger brother when Craig stammered and stuttered his way through an explanation for some stupid thing he had done, Ben with great difficulty went through some of the design plans and ideas he had.

Tracy got to her feet and stretched her biceps, Ben trying to keep from staring at her breasts through her shirt, his erection getting worse and worse. His penis was practically throbbing as he observed Tracy adjust her panties through her stirrup pants, before picking up her yoga mat.

"Your ideas sound very interesting, Ben," said Tracy. "Let's go out the back and see how they might work.

Ben felt like he might be sick. There was no way he could stand up, no way. Tracy looked puzzled as he failed to get to his feet and sat there breathing heavily.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"Yes, um, I've, ah ..." Ben struggled for an explanation as Tracy stared unwaveringly at him with her green eyes, before Ben's expression brightened as he thought up a half-truth. "I have a cramp in my leg, sorry. It's from an old injury. I used to play rugby."

"That's no good," said Tracy. "You look like a rugby player, so fit and if you don't mind my saying, so handsome too." She walked over and without invitation squeezed the muscles on his left arm. "So, did you play rugby league or rugby union?"

"Rugby league," said Ben, his erectile problem not helped by Tracy's fingers upon his arm.

"My son Adam plays league," said Tracy. "We often go to see his games. My husband thought Adam might like to play soccer when he was younger. Being from Croatia or Yugoslavia as it was until a few years ago, Janos is soccer mad, but marrying an Aussie girl who'd been brought up rugby and Australian football, I soon converted him." Tracy smiled suggestively. "I love going to the rugby, all those fit, muscly handsome young guys in tight shorts running around, a girl doesn't know where to look, believe me. Mind you, some of those players aren't the brightest bulbs in the box."

Ben was shocked. The feeling of his muscles without invitation, the suggestive way she was talking about sports players, maybe she was flirting with him? Ben dismissed this as a stupid fantasy. He and Bridget had been a couple for so long, Ben was obviously out of practice with flirting. Tracy was a married woman in her forties, with adult children. No way was she coming on to him.

Finally finding a way to subside his erection - imagining his obese brother-in-law Elvis taking a bath, washing his rolls of fat with a loofa - Ben was able to get to his feet and accompany Tracy outside. He had to fight another erection problem as his cock responded to Tracy's shapely bottom in her tight leggings as he walked behind her, but this time kept things under control. As they discussed the plans for the new guest-house further, Ben wondered what Kevin's problems with Tracy had been. Sure, she was a very determined woman who was clear on what she wanted, but she was open to listening to ideas and calm and rational during discussions, and impressed with some of the sketches Ben completed to show her how things might take shape.

Returning inside, Tracy said, "I really like your ideas, and I think Janos will too. I wish you had been assigned to us from the start."

"Is your husband home?" Ben asked casually.

Tracy shook her head. "No, Janos has a late business meeting and dinner with some business associates. My house-keeper Sylvia had to go down to Sydney to visit her sister who is not well, so I'm all by myself in this big house at the moment. Actually, I just need to take care of something. Do you mind if we continue to discuss the plans while I do it?"

"Sure," said Ben, following Tracy through the hallway of the enormous house and upstairs, into the master bedroom.

Ben felt a little uneasy at being in here. If Mr. Kovich returned to the house, he might not be too pleased. Ben felt even more nervous when Tracy picked up a laundry basket and began to fold up her clothes, starting with her underwear.

"It's a lot more work for me with Sylvia away," said Tracy. "I have to do all the mundane things, like washing and folding my own knickers."

Ben tried not to look as Tracy took the aforementioned knickers from the hamper and placed them in a drawer, but was unable to resist from a few quick peeks at the white, pink, light blue, lemon and floral bikini-style panties that Tracy put in the drawer, followed by her bras, leading to him starting to get hard again. Fortunately the rest of her clothes were more mundane so his latest erection died on the vine before Tracy noticed.

"I like the way you've decorated your bedroom," said Ben, trying to think up something casual to say.

Tracy ruffled his hair. "A typical architect," she said. "How about I give you a grand tour of the house?"

"As long as that's okay," said Ben.

"Of course it is, I suggested it," said Tracy. "Let's start with the ensuite." Tracy opened the door to the adjoining bathroom and Ben felt slightly dazzled by the gleaming white tiles and matching bath, shower, sink and toilet, next to which was a matching white bidet.

"Don't ask why somebody put two toilets in here," laughed Tracy.

"Don't worry, I know that's a bidet," said Ben.

"So many people don't know what it's for," said Tracy. "I guess it can be used for several different things, but it's most handy for girls who've gotten themselves a little bit over-excited."

Ben was becoming more certain - Tracy was flirting with him. But she was married, he was engaged, not that Tracy would know this as he had never mentioned Bridget to her. Perhaps Tracy was just a tease who liked leading guys on as part of a game to amuse herself? If so, Ben hoped that her husband did not return home, as he might not be overly pleased about his wife's games.

Tracy continued to show Ben around the house, stopping at the home gym, where weights and a boxing bag were prominent. On the wall were several photographs, showing a tall, stony-faced, swarthy, dark haired young man with muscle upon muscle on his bare chest holding his boxing-glove covered hands aloft in the ring in triumph, having just beaten his opponents to hamburger mince.

"Janos was a heavyweight boxer back in Yugoslavia," said Tracy, noticing Ben's interest in the photograph. "He won quite a few titles." She directed Ben to look at another photograph, this time of a young man - tall and muscular - dressed in athletic gear and holding a javelin. "Adam was a star track and field athlete as well as playing football," said Tracy. "Javelin was his specialty."

"You must be very proud of your son," said Ben, looking at another photograph, a more recent one showing Tracy standing in the middle of her son and husband, Adam Kovich dressed in his rugby league uniform. Mr. Kovich was obviously older than he was in the photographs of him as a boxer and had lost much of his hair, but was still a mountain of a man with bulging biceps. Tracy was not a short woman but was dwarfed by her husband and son, both men standing well over six feet, four inches tall.

"They're big guys," said Ben, even more apprehensive now about what might happen if Janos Kovich returned to the house.

"They sure are, I always feel safe when I'm out and one either side of me," said Tracy.

Ben looked at a wall, where the heads of a water buffalo and a wild pig were mounted. Seeing Ben looking at the animal heads, Tracy said, "Janos and Adam shot them while we were on holidays in the Northern Territory." She indicated a photograph on the wall between the buffalo and the boar. "See, that's the day they went hunting."

Ben looked at the photograph and saw Janos and his son standing over the dead boar and buffalo, brandishing their high-powered rifles. "Janos is quite the gun enthusiast," Tracy commented.

"Really?" asked Ben, increasingly nervous.

"Oh yes," said Tracy. "He's a member of a gun club and he has quite a collection - rifles, shot-guns and antique guns from the war."

This was just great, Ben thought. Not only was the man with a flirty wife a former heavyweight boxer, he also had access to any number of fire-arms. Then there was his son, a rugby league star just as big and powerful and handy with a javelin.

"Last stop is the swimming pool," said Tracy, leading Ben into a large indoor room that contained a massive swimming pool and to one side a spa, far larger than any he had ever seen before, surrounded by tropical plants.

"Your spa is beautiful," said Ben, wishing he had something like it at home. But there was no luxury spa awaiting Ben when he got home to Brisbane, just an angry Bridget.

Tracy reached out and turned on the spa, the water immediately beginning to bubble and froth. "Why don't you have a swim in it?"

"Oh no, I couldn't do that," said Ben.

"You obviously like it," said Tracy. "Go on, try out the spa. I insist, it's my way of saying thank you for everything."

"I don't have any bathers," said Ben.

"I'll lend you an old pair of Janos's," said Tracy. Before Ben could say anything more, Tracy opened a cupboard near the pool and removed a pair of black bathers and a towel. "The change room is right there," said Tracy, indicating a door.

"Okay, thanks," said Ben, taking the bathers and getting changed. They were too large for him, but he could get by with them sitting in a spa. He emerged still apprehensive about this, but part of his reason for going along with this was to delay returning home. Bridget, still angry about their massive row earlier in the evening, would not be a pleasant proposition.

Ben immersed himself in the warm bubbles feeling them against his skin. "Do you like it?" Tracy asked.

"I do, I wish I had a spa just like it at home," said Ben. "I really appreciate you letting me use it."

Tracy stood looking down at him. "Please, it's my way of saying thank you," she said. "I like to thank guys who please me. I mean really thank them."

With that, Tracy pulled off her tee-shirt to reveal her pink bra and as Ben sat with his mouth open, pulled down and cast aside her stirrup pants too to show off her pink, bikini brief panties.

Ben was stunned at the sight of this beautiful woman, her hair flowing loose down to her shoulders standing barefoot in her bra and knickers in front of him. He was very nervous, but this did not seem to extend to his penis, his erection rising higher and higher in the spa bubbles.

"Um, Tracy, what are you doing?" Ben managed to stammer.

"Oh, just getting in the spa with you," said Tracy casually. "But when I use the spa, I prefer to be naked."

Reaching behind her back, Tracy unclasped and removed her bra, Ben trying to prevent himself from staring at her beautiful, bare, C-cup breasts. Then hooking her thumbs into the elastic of her panty waistband, Tracy pulled her knickers down to her ankles, Ben unable to prevent himself from staring at the luxurious triangle of brown curly hair that covered Tracy's pubic mound.

Stepping out of her knickers, Tracy eased into the spa, Ben found himself struck dumb and unable to speak nor prevent his throbbing erection. Tracy's naked figure was magnificent for a woman of any age, let alone one aged in her forties who had given birth to two children.

"Tracy, what's going on?" Ben managed to say as Tracy moved to sit next to him.

"I told you, it's my way of thanking you," said Tracy, a suggestive smile on her pretty face.

Under the water, Ben felt Tracy's hand on his groin, stroking his erect cock through his bathers. Except they weren't his bathers. They belonged to Tracy's husband. A rich, powerful Croatian man who stood over six foot tall with huge muscles, who had won several heavyweight boxing titles Yugoslavia in his younger years and who to top it all off was a gun enthusiast with a large collection of firearms. If Mr. Kovich happened to walk in now, Ben was convinced he would either be beaten to death or share the same fate as the wild pig and the water buffalo whose heads were now mounted on display.

Finding his voice, Ben stammered. "Tracy, you're married. What about your husband?"

Tracy laughed. "You're scared of my husband, aren't you?"

Ben nodded. There seemed no point in denying this. It seemed more foolish to not be afraid of Janos Kovich than to be afraid of him.

"There's nothing for you to worry about, Ben," said Tracy, stroking his forehead with her long fingers. "Janos and I have what is called an open marriage. He has his mistress, this pretty young English woman called Holly, and if I feel like a bit of fun with a guy, that's perfectly okay with Janos. There's just some rules we set for each other. We always use protection, don't speak about it with each other and never sleep with anyone else in our marital bed. So, unless Janos came home to find you screwing me in his bed without a condom and I told him all the graphic details, there's no problem at all."

Ben was still nervous. "What about your kids?" He had seen Tracy's son Adam - a young man just as big and formidable as his father - and figured if the young man walked in and found a stranger screwing his mother, he would be most unimpressed and Ben would either be dead or in a wheelchair for life. And Ben knew nothing of Tracy and Janos's other kid. Perhaps he was a professional wrestler or something?