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A New Way of Seeing Things

By: BusyBadger



Author's Note:

I found the idea for this story on the Bulletin Board and thought it might be fun to try. I like to gradually develop characters and situations, so if you're looking for a quick story all wrapped up in two pages, this isn't it.)




Gwen pulled the dressing room curtain shut and sighed. She had never developed the desire for clothes shopping popular society had said all women should have, and if not for the damned Chamber of Commerce dinner in two weeks, she would not be here at all. However, a look in her closet at the time of the invitation had made it clear she would need something new to wear. 

She glanced into the mirror before her. Someone else who might have been sharing the view would have seen a petite brunette in her late thirties or early forties, 5'2", with delicate features and shoulder length hair tied in a loose pony tail, blue eyes shining with intensity in the reflection. Her skin, at least what could be seen, was tan the way one might get from outdoor work. The woman's loose blouse and jeans blurred the contours of a finely-toned body, in particular her 34b breasts. A very full bra ("chest armor", her husband Tim occasionally joked), further concealed the graceful flowing lines beneath. 

Gwen did not see what others might, however. Indeed, her purpose for her self-evaluation in the mirror was to ensure she was dressed "properly". Revealing attire was not very becoming and sent the wrong message, she had been raised to believe. It was her mother who had reminded her more than once during her teenage years that "a proper lady dresses and behaves in a manner to attract proper gentlemen," and that "a married woman has no need to attract a man at all." Her self-appraisal assured her everything was buttoned and aligned, everything loose enough as to not reveal the body underneath and perhaps send the wrong message. Years of horseback riding, stable work and proper diet had earned her what she had, but to show it to others would be wrong. 

With another sigh she took her eyes from the mirror and kicked off her sandals before reaching to unfasten her blouse, buttons securing it high up her chest despite the early summer Georgia heat. Reaching the point where the garment disappeared under the waistband of her jeans, she worked the belt buckle before turning her attention to the copper button and zipper of her pants. Her shirt was freed, removed and carefully hung on a nearby hook before Gwen quickly shucked the jeans down her rock-hard thighs and calves, gracefully dipping to retrieve and hang them with her blouse.

She shivered at the shock of the air-conditioning against her skin, despite how much of it was still covered by her full panties and bra. The black dress was removed from the hanger and slipped over her head, hem falling to her knees. Gwen again looked into the mirror. The right length, she thought, not too short, but the neckline dips a bit too much—I can almost see my cleavage! Not my first choice, she decided, but at least I know it's here if I get desperate.

The process of undressing was reversed, and again the woman examined herself in the mirror for anything she might have missed before leaving the cubicle. Satisfied, she grabbed the dress and turned to pull open the curtain.

Gwen's hand stopped short of the edge of the divider as she found herself staring through a 6-inch gap between the fabric and the wall and into the eyes of a middle-aged man seated on the other side of the corridor. He quickly dropped his stare to the assorted shopping bags left at his feet by his wife while she occupied the cubicle next to where he sat. Pushing the curtain aside, face burning brightly, she hurried past the man and dropped the dress on the attendant's desk without saying a word. 

Anger, shock and uncertainty flowed through her as she rushed out to the parking lot. How dare he look at her like that! Could she even be sure that he saw anything? The look on the man's face, and his refusal to look up again, told her he had. Still, she clung to the hope that he had not noticed while the shock and anger subsided. 

Gwen was in the car before she realized uncertainty was being replaced with rationalization. C'mon, she told herself, even if he saw something, he didn't see that much. Natalie wears bikinis more revealing than my underwear. And there's no way he saw my front, right?

Her thoughts kept returning to Natalie, the wife of Gwen's youngest brother Adam. Nat represented many of the things Gwen's mother had warned her not to become. She was a little taller, maybe 5'4", with beautiful blonde hair that reached down to the small of her back. She was definitely more full-figured than Gwen, highlighted by the D-cup breasts and round bum she had no qualms about displaying. Camisole and bikini tops were the norm this time of year, and Gwen could swear she had seen her sister braless more than once!

Still, she had to admit, it was impossible not to like Natalie. She was honest, very caring and giving, devoted to Adam, and a wonderful mother. Even Gwen's parents had considered her a "loose woman" when they first met, but had grown to love her like their own. 

Natalie shows more in public than I did in that dressing room, Gwen continued to reason. She doesn't seem embarrassed—why should I? And while she continued to wrestle with her shame, another feeling began to compete for her attention. 

Despite her best efforts, the warm tingling feeling of arousal began to spread through her body, seeming to radiate from her sex. She had been almost naked in front of a strange man, and it appeared he was only too happy to look! Letting another man see me was wrong, she argued as the feeling grew, and it's even more wrong to get pleasure from being that man's object of desire! Still, the scene played in her head, and she found herself imagining exactly what the stranger had seen and thought.

In truth, Gwen was uncomfortable with sex in general. She had been taught while growing up that a woman's job was to make babies and give in to her husband's needs, but sex was something that 'good girls endure rather than enjoy'. Rumors and misinformation from the all-girls school she had attended only strengthened this belief, and while her exposure to a bigger world after her marriage had at least softened her conscious stance and permitted her to at least not pass on the worst of it to her daughters, subconsciously there was still a resistance she could not overcome. 

Despite her efforts to distract herself, Gwen's mind continued to play with what had happened, what-if scenarios popping into her head as she struggled to push them out again. The thought of what would have happened had she needed to remove her underwear made her gasp before she could focus on what to prepare for dinner that night. 

By the time she reached the house she was frantic. A swim might help cool me off, she thought, not even acknowledging the double entendre to herself. Gwen hurried to the bedroom, closing the door despite the being the only one in the house, and shed her clothes before moving to the dresser where she kept her bathing suits. 

Her reflection in a nearby mirror caught her eye. Normally she would have hurried by, unwilling to appear conceited, even to herself, but her excitement and her desire to examine what the man might have seen caused her to stop and look. Tan lines were very much in evidence, creamy white skin showing to what lengths she normally went to cover herself. Her breasts were firm and capped by pink areolae, nipples standing erect in the chill of the air conditioned room. A flat stomach led down to a verdant patch of pubic hair, her thatch grudgingly trimmed enough to avoid any potential embarrassment in the very modest one piece bathing suit she normally wore. Her mind began to wander, back to the events in the dressing room, and with it her fingers began to wander as well, gently tracing lines through the valley of her breasts...

"You're sick," she muttered, and angrily took two steps to the right to the dresser to retrieve her suit. A cover-up followed, a towel was retrieved from the bathroom, and she made her way up the small hillock at the back of the house to where the pool sat. 

The refreshingly cool water did take her mind off of her situation for the moment. Still, the day's events, and their possibilities, continued to push uninvited into her mind and the 'itch' was stronger than it had been in a long time. Gwen weighed her options as she hung from the side of the pool.

"You could touch yourself," a voice deep inside quietly suggested. 

Another voice, strong and sounding much like her mother, reacted in moral outrage. Gwen had tried to masturbate a few times in the past, and while the physical pleasure had been wonderful, the guilt afterwards had been worse. She decided she was not yet desperate enough for that yet. Another plan began to form despite her efforts to concentrate on the proper cooking times for chicken. 

Gwen was putting the finishing touches on dinner when she heard Tim's truck pull into the yard. She and her husband had purchased the plumbing business from his old boss shortly after they had married and turned it into a very profitable enterprise, with five employees and three trucks. The business had been so successful that her husband had also managed to purchase the property their house now stood on, relocating the business here as well as building a barn and paddock for Gwen and their children to stable their horses. Gwen managed the business' office when she was not busy caring for the kids. 

With both children out of the house—Alison living down in town with her new husband, KD off at college—the house was finally quiet and had allowed their parents to develop a comfortable routine as husband and wife.

"Dinner's ready, go get washed up," she called over her shoulder as he came up behind her and kissed her cheek. 

"Smells good," he rumbled as he headed down the hallway to change. She watched him go. He was not a large man, 5'8" according to his driver's license, lean and wiry in build, clean shaven with a neatly-trimmed crop of salt-and-pepper hair. His daughters had joked that many of the women who called for his plumbing expertise were actually hoping for another type of service altogether, something straight out of a porno. Gwen would give them her best disapproving stare when she overheard these conversations. In truth, she never doubted her husband's fidelity—he had never given her a reason to. And she certainly had no intentions of ever being unfaithful to him.

Dinner was put on the table and life progressed as it did most nights, both of them sitting in their favorite spots, watching TV after chores had been done. As was normally the case, Gwen kissed her husband goodnight at 9 and headed to bed, knowing he would be along in a bit.

Tim made his way into the bedroom a half-hour later. He smiled to himself when he saw his wife clad in her traditional knee-length nightgown with the covers pulled about her waist, propped up on a pillow and reading. It was the same scene, every night. Only the nightgown changed, and only the color, never the length. Just once, he mused, I'd like to walk in here and find her naked and waiting for me, legs spread wide. Or maybe on her knees, ass pointed up for me to take. 

He knew those were just ridiculous fantasies. Gwen was who she was, the woman he loved more than anyone else in the world, who made him extremely happy and content. She was not a sexual creature—it just wasn't her thing. While she tolerated his more relaxed attitude towards nudity and sexuality, those topics made her very uncomfortable when applied to her own state of being. So, he willingly accepted the once- a-week sex (always missionary, always with the lights out, always with just enough foreplay to get them both ready) and found enough alone time to relieve his sexual stress with the help of his hand and an active imagination. If Gwen knew he was doing this, she never let on. He sometimes wondered how she would react if she knew. 

Tim dropped his shorts and climbed under the covers wearing his customary pair of boxers and t-shirt while Gwen placed her bookmark and turned off the light. Leaning over, he kissed her where he imagined her lips to be in the darkness. "G'night honey."

"Good night."

Tim lay there, staring through the darkness at the ceiling, collecting his thoughts while waiting for sleep to come. Beside him, Gwen shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot. "Need to remember to put some more inch and a quarter PVC on the truck," he thought. "That job on Blaylock Street is going to use the last of it..."

A hand—Gwen's hand, he reminded himself before realizing how stupid that was, of course it was hers—landed delicately on his stomach just below his navel. It paused only briefly before sliding down until it made contact with the waistband of his shorts, fingers pushing down against his skin to give it enough room to slide under the elastic and on to the head of his flaccid penis. Gingerly, Gwen began to pet the slumbering length.

Tim was afraid to move, not wanting to break the spell. Slowly he turned his head towards where Gwen lay while his member began to grow under her hand. "Tonight?" he asked when he could dimly see her face in the darkness.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked as her hand quickly withdrew. "If you're too tired, or don't want to, I understand," she said with a touch of panic in her voice. 

"No, no," he quickly reassured her. "I want to, it's just that we don't usually, on a weeknight...and when we do it's me who, y'know, starts things..."

The hand withdrew from his stomach altogether. "I'm sorry, You're right--I should have let you start..." her voice trailed off. 

Tim wanted to slap himself in the forehead for scaring off her advance. "No, that's not it—I like it when you start—it just surprised me, is all." He quickly brought his knees to his chest and pushed his underwear over his ankles in one swift motion. "Here, let me make it easier." Shorts discarded, Tim put his legs back down and lay still while his cock tried to decide whether to continue its rise or return to its dormant state. 

"Are you sure?"

"Very!"

The hand returned, Gwen nervously watching her husband's face in the near darkness for any signs of a negative reaction to her advance. She went directly to his rapidly swelling member this time, petting and stroking gently. Tim rolled to his side as gently as he could and kissed her, anxious to show his approval of her boldness.

Their lips found each other while his hand went to her hip, smoothing and stroking her body through the fabric of the nightgown. He continued to move upward, first to the curve of her waist, then to her ribcage before softly gliding across her breast. Gwen sighed gently at the touch, leaving Tim wondering if it was a sign of pleasure or annoyance. She continued to gently stroke him and he decided not to press his luck. Sliding his hand back down to her thigh, he pulled her nightgown up far enough to get underneath the garment. Long experience had taught him that Gwen normally only allowed him access to her sex long enough to get her to lubricate, making their coupling more comfortable for her. Once she was wet and he was hard, it was time for the main event.

His hand slid up to where he expected her panties to begin, only to find bare skin. He continued up. "No underwear?" he asked, breaking their kiss.

"I didn't think I'd need them right away," she answered softly, unwilling to make eye contact. "Is that OK?"

"It's great," he replied enthusiastically, renewing the kiss while his fingers slipped through the thick carpet on her mons and down to the furrow beneath. Rather than smooth, dry lips needing a gentle stroke, he found his wife soaked and ready, his finger plunging deep into her slit without effort, her opening ready and willing to accept him. Gwen's breathing grew ragged at the touch. Tim slid his finger in and out of her a couple of times, then reluctantly began to withdraw his hand. He knew the routine; when she was wet enough to take him, it was time to finish the act. 

Gwen's hand flew from his cock and pressed him back into her crotch with enough force to make it clear she wanted him to stay. Only after she had helped him slide his finger back into her and firmly plant his palm at the top of her furrow did she return her attention to his manhood. 

Her hips began to twitch, almost imperceptibly at first, then with more force as her sex pushed against her husband's hand. She kissed him with more passion than he could ever remember, her lips mashed against his, tongue tentatively exploring. Suddenly, her thighs snapped shut, locking his hand in place while she ground against it. Gwen broke her kiss and began panting, seeming to fight to keep silent as her climax built.

Tim watched with fascination. He could easily count the number of times he had seen her orgasm; every time had been with the aid of wine and a vacation setting. Never on a work night, and never in their bed. Gwen continued to thrust against him, finally squeezing her thighs together so hard he thought his fingers might break while her body stiffened. She let out a soft cry, even seeming to squelch this, then went limp. Tim didn't dare move, lying there next to his panting wife while she recovered. After a couple of moments, her eyes fluttered open while her thighs relaxed enough to allow his hand to leave. She looked back at him, her face a mixture of orgasmic bliss, nervousness, and guilt. Tim grinned at her in reassurance while he rolled her onto her back. Putting one knee, then the other, between her thighs, he opened her enough to allow him to crouch between her legs, poised to mount her. Tim pushed the nightgown above her hips and thought about removing it altogether to take in the beauty of her naked body as he penetrated her, but he knew she preferred it on when they made love—he was not anxious to ruin the moment and contented himself with imagining her naked instead. 

Tim bent over his wife and kissed her as his hips flexed forward, his cock making contact with her nether lips before pushing through and burying itself in her channel. He began to thrust slowly and evenly, surprised to find Gwen's hips rising to meet his. She had always just lay there and let him do as he wanted—this night was just getting better and better. 

His orgasm came quickly, Tim passionately kissing his wife as his thrusting became urgent before he buried himself in her with one last lunge. They lay locked together for several moments before Tim rolled off while Gwen quickly rose and moved to the bathroom. They lay there together for several moments after she returned, Tim spooning her. 

"Tim?" 

"Hmm?"

"Was that OK? I mean, me starting things, and, you know, what happened to me?"

He hugged her tightly. "It was great. Did you enjoy what happened to you?"

"Yeah, I guess, but..."

"But what?"

"Never mind. Not important."

"Gwen, it's OK to feel good, remember? We talked about that."

She nodded quickly, but said nothing. Tim kissed the back of her head and drew her in close. "Good night." 

"Night."

Gwen lay awake long after her husband was breathing deeply behind her, re-examining everything that had happened, and what she had caused to happen. The guilt over her orgasm was not as bad as she thought it would be, and Tim did seem to enjoy her making the first move, and making him happy was part of her job, right? The whole reason she had needed the orgasm in the first place still bothered her, though. Another man had seen her nearly naked, and used that to create pleasure for herself. That just had to be wrong. And yet, different scenarios continued to dance in her mind, scenarios where it might happen again.

A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 02



(Author's note: Thank you to all who have sent encouraging comments and e-mails! Writing is much easier when you know you have an interested audience.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.

For those who have not read the first part of this story yet, this part may make more sense if you do.)





The next morning Gwen was in the workshop, handing out assignments and doing inventory while Tim and the other plumbers and apprentices loaded the trucks with the tools and materials needed for the day. She made sure to check that "her boys," as she affectionately called them, were dressed cleanly and neatly in pants and shirts that reflected the professionalism that Nelson Plumbing was known for. 

"Cliff, the cuffs of your pants are starting to fray a bit. I'll order you a couple of new pairs. The same size as last time?'

"Yes ma'am, he replied with a polite smile. The muscular black man had been one of Tim's first apprentices, and had been with the company ever since. He and the others always thought of Gwen as more of a house mother than a boss. 

"I'll call it in today," she said as she handed him a couple of signed estimates. "Anyone else need anything?"

No one spoke up, and soon all of the trucks were out of the yard, leaving her to tend to the horses before making the hundred-yard commute back to the office above the workshop. The morning flew by—billing days always did—and thankfully she had no time to think of the events of the previous twenty-four hours. Lunch consisted of a rushed salad brought over from the house, and she did not look up from her paperwork again until nearly three o'clock. 

A rivulet of sweat running down the small of her back reminded her the air conditioning in the office could only do so much against the Georgia heat. A good time for a swim, she decided as she signed the check for the last bill in the pile. 

Gwen was halfway across the yard when the cellphone she held sounded the tone of an incoming call from her husband. "Nelson Plumbing," she answered while juggling phone and empty lunch container. It could be his apprentice Jordan, she reminded herself.

"Hi honey, it's me."

"Hi Tim, I'm just heading back to the house. What's up?"

"Wanted to let you know we're probably going to be back late tonight. We just now got that old water heater out—I can't believe how they wedged it in there—and they need hot water by breakfast tomorrow. I sent Jordan out for some more ¾" copper, and when he gets back I'll send him out to get us some dinner while I put the feed lines back in."

"Got it. Remind him to save the receipts."

Tim laughed. "Already have. I told him that if he forgot, he has to face you."

"I'm not that bad," Gwen fussed. "Do you want me to send one of the other trucks over?"

"No, we can barely get one pair of hands in that space. Cliff or Walt would just stand around critiquing my work. If you can just check in with them when they come back, see if they ran into any problems today, need anything..."

"Sure will. I'll keep the phone nearby. Call me if you need anything."

"Will do. Love you, Gwen."

"Love you, too."

Gwen reversed the juggling act to open the screen door, setting the food bowl down in the sink before moving off to the bedroom to change. Grabbing the door handle, she paused before swinging it shut. This is silly, the woman reasoned. No one's here. Still, she listened carefully for the sound of anyone who might be in the house before boldly leaving the door open and stripping down to her underwear. Gwen began to move to the master bath, where her suit hung on the back of the door, but stopped halfway across the room. I could use a glass of wine, she thought, and that lunch bowl isn't going to get into the dishwasher on its own. Accepting her own dare, she stepped into the hallway, clad in nothing more than her bra and panties. 

Gwen could not ever remember being this undressed outside of her bedroom. Underwear, nightgown and robe were par for the course when moving about the house in the early morning, and clothes were an absolute requirement after breakfast. She crept down the hall, the excitement of such a risqué act tempered with the feeling that this was wrong. The weight of the Slut and the Lady was heavy on each shoulder.

As a young girl, Gwen had seen a cartoon depicting a devil on one shoulder of the main character and an angel on the other, each trying to exert their influence. The devil won several times, each with disastrous yet hilarious results, before the angel had the last laugh. 

From this had come Gwen's own version, the Slut and the Lady. The Slut was always dressed in a tight red corset and fishnet stockings, requisite horns perched atop her head, while the Lady, exuding a certain motherly glow, dressed in a pantsuit and stylish jacket,. When they appeared, the two would fight, Gwen would agree with the Lady, and decency prevailed. This time, however, she stepped back and watched, unwilling to take a side. 

She made her way to the kitchen, the Slut smiling broadly at the change in the odds. Gwen deliberately took her time loading the dishwasher, bending over it much longer than necessary, the motion drawing her full panties into her crotch. The coolness of the house had eased her need for a swim and the Lady argued for her to get dressed, but still she lingered, wiping down counters, adding things to the shopping list. Eventually, Gwen found herself standing at the window looking out towards the shop. Get away from there, somebody might see you, the Lady shouted. Who, the squirrels? The Slut countered. Her excitement rose. What if someone did see her? What would she do? What would they do? The feelings of arousal grew, and Gwen knew this was a dangerous game she was playing. With no idea as to when Tim might be home, there was no guarantee of relief from the building pressure. 

You could touch yourself, the Slut suggested as she wrestled the Lady to the ground and sat on her chest. The Lady tried to regain her footing, but Gwen smiled to herself, happy that the Slut had won this round. Her unfocused gaze was on the sunny yard before her as her hand began to turn languid circles on her bare stomach, each pass drawing her closer to the waistband of her underwear while the other hand came up to cup her bra-covered breast. 

This will only lead to trouble, the Lady squeaked before her mouth was covered by the Slut's hand. No it won't, the corseted mini-Gwen replied, but only one way to find out that I'm right. Gwen's hand slipped beneath under the front of her panties, fingers sliding through her thick, curly thatch, until the middle one found her clit. She gasped as the contact caused a jolt like an electric shock to race through her body. Her finger delicately circled the nub, mini-shocks continuing to fire as the Lady struggled to remove the hand from her mouth while the Slut smiled and nodded knowingly. Gwen's other hand grasped at the flesh of her breast, annoyed with the rough fabric between it and the nipple crying for attention beneath. 

She lost track of time, her climax barely giving a warning of its approach before exploding upon her, the mini-shocks turning to intense waves of pleasure radiating from her sex. The force of the orgasm buckled her legs, and she sank to one knee, her hand leaving her breast to grasp the windowsill for support as her muscles spasmed wildly. The pleasure was not quite as intense as those from the night before—guilt and shame still cast shadows deep in the recesses of her mind—but what she was experiencing was still incredible nonetheless. Her head slumped to rest on her outstretched forearm while her breathing began to steady. Minutes passed. 

Gwen, the Slut and the Lady all froze as the sound of thunder, the bolt of doom the Lady always predicted, began to grow louder. Gwen looked up in fear to see the noise was actually Cliff's truck come up the dirt driveway and pulling into the yard. With a squeak of panic, the half-naked woman slunk away from the window before running to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her as she hurriedly re-dressed. Moments later she was hurrying across the yard to where the truck was being unloaded. 

"Tim's going to be late," Gwen announced as she approached the two men. "He wanted me to check in with you to see if you guys needed anything."

Cliff glanced at the woman and resisted doing a double-take. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, the flapping lapels teasing him with a glimpse of cleavage, while two buttons below, the shirt gapped where she had forgotten another one. He knew that with the right angle, he would be able to get a glimpse of her bra-covered tit for the first time ever. He had seen plenty of titties in his life; but this is one he never expected to see. Gwen Nelson was the most prim, proper woman he had ever met. Underneath all those layers, though, he just knew she was a fine-looking woman. 

"No Gwen, everything's good. I was just going to grab some more relief valves and put them on the truck before I go. Mike, how about you? Anything I'm forgetting?"

Gwen turned to look at the young apprentice. Cliff smiled as the blouse opened when she moved, revealing the fabric-covered side of what he now became more apparent as a pretty little breast. Just more than a mouthful, he guessed. 

"No ma'am, nothing I can think of." Cliff smiled again. As he told all the apprentices, "When you become a plumber, you can call her Gwen. Until then, she's Mrs. Nelson, or ma'am, to you. 

"Can I get you boys something to drink before you go?" She offered, gesturing to the refrigerator in the shop. 

"No, not for me," Cliff replied. "Ty's got a game tonight, and I'm on my way to meet Cheryl there."

"Oh. Well, tell him hit a home run for me."

He laughed. "If it's alright with you, I'll tell him you asked him to take a pitch. That boy needs to learn some plate discipline." 

The two men climbed into their vehicles and took their leave. Gwen barely had time to climb the stairs to the office before the sound of Walt and Andrew's truck crunching across the gravel could be heard above the air conditioning. The process of unloading for the night was repeated, and fifteen minutes later, Gwen was stepping back into her kitchen. 

It wasn't until she had opened the refrigerator and bent over the crisper to grab some green beans that she noticed the buttons she had missed. She stood up, hand flying to cover her gasp of horror as she realized four men had seen her like that. Gwen's mind raced to recreate the time she had been at the workshop—did any of them say or do anything that might let on she had been hanging out for all the world to see? The Lady sputtered in indignation while the Slut said nothing, a knowing smile on her face. If they had noticed anything, they were too polite to let on, the alarmed and aroused woman grudgingly acknowledged to herself. The smile disappeared from the Lady's face as Gwen found herself imagining they had noticed. Particularly the apprentices, barely past their teen years, Gwen knew that men that age only had one thing on their mind. Did they like looking at her? She made her way back to the bedroom and again discarded jeans and shirt, returning to the kitchen clad in her underwear, her robe nearby this time. She found great delight in cooking dinner that way, making a plate for Tim and setting it in the microwave for when he got home. 

After she had eaten, Gwen briefly considered staying in her state of undress until her husband returned, wanting to see his reaction, but she reminded herself that Jordan would be with him. Reluctantly, she donned her nightgown and robe, watching TV until 9. Tim had still not arrived, and so she wrote him a quick note welcoming him and home and pointing him to his dinner, then went to bed. 

She awoke two hours later to the sound of his truck in the yard. She briefly thought about going to meet him, but was still half-asleep under the covers when he came into the bedroom. Tim kissed her lightly on the cheek and began stripping down before disappearing into the bathroom for a much-needed shower, pale-white butt and legs contrasting against his tanned torso. She envied him his ability to walk around naked like that, and while she knew it was wrong to look, she really did enjoy the view. 

He emerged twenty minutes later, clad in only the boxer shorts she had laid out for him. Gwen had set out a Nelson Plumbing t-shirt as well, but she knew it unlikely he would wear it to bed—he never did. 

"Welcome home," she whispered as he settled onto the mattress with a groan. 

"I thought you had apprentices to do all the grunt work," he grumbled. "Moving old water heaters with your fingertips is a young man's job. Darn, I'm tired.Thanks for making me dinner. G'night honey." He rolled to his side to kiss her before collapsing back. In what seemed like seconds, his soft rhythmic breathing told Gwen he was asleep. She was right behind him, any feelings of remorse she might have had over her actions of the past two days thankfully asleep as well. 

...she was at the mall, on that raised area in the center court where musicians played and Santa had his workshop during the holidays. Only today, the attraction was her. She was naked, standing on some sort of turntable that was slowly rotating while all around her, shoppers strolled by, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle on stage. Her arms had been bound behind her in a way to force her proud breasts out at the passers-by while her ankles had been chained to where she stood, legs spread enough to display her sex to any who might wish to look. And yet, the disc beneath her continued to turn and no one showed the slightest interest.

Except one man. She caught him out of the corner of her eye as her nude body rotated, his complete attention on the display in front of him. She sensed, rather than knew, that it was the man from the dressing room. He too was naked, an immense erection too big to be humanly possible pointing out at her from beneath his pot belly, his hand poised at the end of the pink-headed monster as her breasts and sex came into view. Finally facing him, their eyes met while his hand began to stroke...

She awoke with a small gasp, her body wet with perspiration. Beside her, Tim lay undisturbed, breathing bordering on a soft snore. Just a dream, she assured herself. Just a dream. And while she was disturbed at the still-fresh images in her mind, she also realized she wanted to return to them, to see what the man would do next. Gwen knew sleep was not going to come again without some guilt and soul-searching. With a sigh, she rose and tried to focus on the clock. 4:30. The thought of a shower to rinse the rapidly evaporating sweat off sounded appealing, but doing so might wake Tim. 

Might was well just get a head start on breakfast, Gwen decided, and reached for her robe. It's just me and Tim, I don't need that, she boldly declared, and made her way to the kitchen. 

Tim found her sitting there at the table, absentmindedly sipping her coffee when he awoke an hour and a half later. Kissing her on the top of her head, he made his way to the coffeemaker. "Everything OK? You're up pretty early." The fact she was out here in just her nightgown was just another reason for the question.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine, just couldn't sleep." Gwen got up and moved to the stove. "Now that you're up, let me finish these eggs and bacon." They ate while Tim recounted the previous day's events, detailing every painful step taken to get the job to a point where they could leave for the night. Gwen half-listened, occasionally interjecting an "uh-huh" or a "hmmm" where she thought appropriate.

"Seems like you've got something on your mind," Tim said as he took another forkful of egg.

"Oh, just stuff I have to do today," she quickly explained. "I'm going down into town for copier paper and toner. And I still need to find a dress for the Chamber of Commerce dinner."

"You don't have to go to the dinner if you don't want to," her husband said as he took his plate to the sink. "Cliff and I can go and shake hands."

"No, no, I should go," she replied. The resignation in her voice made Tim believe she considered it a chore. In reality, Gwen was facing the prospect of what she really planned to do today, and that she was powerless to stop it. 

The morning progressed as most other mornings did, trucks dispatched, horses tended, and eventually Gwen found herself back in the house, preparing for her trip downtown. A more concrete plan had formed while she mucked stalls. First stop was Alison's room. The size of Ali's college dorm room and the apartment she now shared down in town with her new husband Jason had dictated that some things be left behind as she moved. Closing the door behind her, she stood in front of the dresser filled with her daughter's belongings.

Tim and Gwen's daughters had inherited their parents' looks—strangers would take in Ali and her mother's good looks and build and conclude they sisters separated by just a few years, while KD took after Tim, albeit with 36D breasts and some college party padding. 

Despite their strikingly similar builds, mother and daughter had rarely, if ever, borrowed each other's clothes. Alison found the older woman's style of dress to be ultra-conservative at best, while Gwen was frankly shocked at the some of the things her daughters had worn out of the house as teenagers. Their mother had desperately wanted to step in and make them "lady-like," but Tim had had his way on this one, gently reminding his wife their daughters were their own people and had been raised to make the right decisions. 

The chest before her contained clothes, including underwear, Gwen assumed. She had done enough laundry to know the scandalous things her daughter had covered her private parts with, and it was her hope she had left some behind in her drawer. She had snooped on her daughters when they were teenagers, telling herself it was her duty and right to check for any drug paraphernalia they might be hiding. The worst she had ever found was an unopened box of condoms in KD's underwear drawer. Gwen had wanted to confront her daughter on the discovery, but couldn't bring herself to speak of it. Tim's reaction was one of relief that his daughter was using protection, and the matter had been shelved, the box carefully placed back she had found it. Gwen had stopped the drug-checks after they went off to college, however, and she honestly didn't know what Ali might have left. 

A pull of the drawer handle revealed bras and panties of all styles and types jumbled together, as if her daughter had just dug through them to select those that would be going with her. Gwen scanned the disorderly piles for a moment before gingerly removing a bra. It seemed as if there were no weight whatsoever to it when compared to the ones she wore. It was a light blue color, of simple cotton construction, with the clasp at the front. A quick check of the tag showed the size to be about right. With a deep breath, she pulled the Nelson Plumbing t-shirt over her head and quickly reached behind her back to unclasp her full bra. Shucking it from her shoulders and laying it on the bed along with her shirt. Gwen wasted no time in pulling on Ali's leftover, finding the cotton surprisingly comfortable against her breasts when compared to the thick wire lined restrainers she normally wore. Her erect nipples made clear impressions against the thin cups, and she considered trying something more substantial before deciding to stick with her plan. 

A matching pair of panties were in plain sight, but the woman's attention was focused on a white lacy garment buried near the back. Gently she pulled it out to reveal a small triangular patch of whispy fabric, one strip of elastic attached to two of the corners, another strip attached to the middle of the first string and the third corner. This can't be comfortable to wear for any length of time, Gwen thought. That one string would run right through your butt crack and up through the other one...it began to dawn on her that perhaps these were only meant to be worn for a short time. The thought of her own daughter, teasing a man with this before taking it off for him altogether ran through her head before she dismissed it. Even the Slut knew it would be too much to push for these. You really are sick, she muttered, and put the thong back where she had found it and selected the blue panties. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 02



They appeared to be cut high on the hip, but still had reasonably large triangles in both the front and back, and wide swatch connecting the two. Satisfied, she sat on the bed to kick off her shoes and jeans before standing and pushing her beige underwear down her legs. She hurriedly replaced them with the bikini-cut selection she held and looked down at herself. While they exposed more skin than she ever had before, she was satisfied with their fit. Gathering her discarded clothes, she opened the door and checked up and down the hallway before making her way to her own bedroom. 

Gwen already knew what she was going to wear. She had a sundress she particularly liked that came to just above her knee—on most days, it felt daring enough to show skin like that, but today, with her choice of underwear, it felt decadent—and even chose to leave the top two buttons undone, nearly exposing her cleavage, while forgoing a half-slip. Flats were the shoe of choice, and she quickly made her way to her SUV, afraid that if she didn't go now she might chicken out. 

She had been to the office supply store many times before, and knew exactly where the things she needed were. Today was different though, and Gwen strolled through the brightly-lit space, casually looking for things she didn't need, crouching to get better looks at the product on the lower shelves, coming dangerously close to exposing her thighs. Finally deciding that to stay any longer would be to risk getting caught, she made her way to where the cartons of paper were stacked, looking helpless until a young sales associate came over and offered to carry it out to the car. Gwen smiled at the memory of how many bales of hay she had tossed that morning, batted her eyes, and thanked the young man for his kindness and consideration. 

Gwen opened the tailgate for the associate and stepped back to let him put the carton in the back. She briefly thought about perhaps dropping her purse and bending to pick it up, letting her dress fall away from her body and expose her bra-covered breasts to the young man, but the Lady managed to convince her that might not be a good idea. Instead, she thanked him again for his service and started the SUV. 

Ten minutes later she was at the center court of the mall, staring up at the platform where bored teenagers and senior citizens now sat. Gwen couldn't understand why, but she felt compelled to climb the short set of stairs to stand where she had been standing in her dream, slowly turning, marveling at how what she saw now was exactly as it had been last night.

Except for the naked man, she reminded herself. And the chained and naked me. Gwen blushed at the memory and hurried from the platform towards her next task. 

She found the dress she had tried on earlier in the week and again selected it, promising herself to examine it fairly and carefully this time. The next stop was the lingerie section. Gwen wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but it had to be something shorter than the nightgowns she currently wore, and at least as comfortable. Many selections, much, much too slutty, assailed her, until one presented itself that might have promise. It was a delicate thing, light and filmy with ruffles and folds, and appeared as though it might reach down to mid-thigh on her. Gwen looked around for any observers before snatching it off the rack and moving towards the dressing room as quickly as she dared without attracting attention. 

"Two," she announced somewhat breathlessly as she dropped the garments on the counter, making sure the dress lay over the nightgown. 

The bored clerk, a teenager with jet black hair, too much eyeliner and a lip piercing, looked up from her texting. "Ya need to wear underwear when trying on bathing suits and lingerie," she said as she slid the plastic number across the desk, reciting from memory the line she had been taught. 

"Thanks, yes, I'm covered," Gwen babbled, blushing furiously at the reminder and the unintended double entendre. Grabbing everything, she made her way to the cubicle she had used earlier in the week. She was somewhat disappointed to see only a young man, about KD's age, sitting at the other end of the waiting area and out of potential viewing range. Still, this knowledge emboldened her further, and she slipped into the cubicle, carefully trying to ensure the curtain had stayed open without being seen checking to make sure the curtain had stayed open. 

Finally satisfied, Gwen turned to the mirror, content to pretend the young man in the waiting area could see her. With trembling hands she unbuttoned the sundress, letting it fall to the floor to expose her blue bra and panties. Gwen hesitated, examining herself in the reflection, acutely aware her nipples were straining against the fabric that covered them. Casually she reached for the black dress, imagining the man was watching her every move. Gwen slipped it over her head, made some adjustments—and surprised herself by pronouncing it too conservative. Tim deserves to be seen with something nicer than this, she decided, and quickly removed it. Again, standing there in just her underwear, she paused. Now or never, Gwen thought, and steadied her hands enough to undo the clasp of the bra. It fell away to reveal her aching nipples, and the Slut goaded her to touch them while the Lady lay bound and gagged at her feet. Gwen resisted the urge this time and reached for the nightgown. It slipped over her head with a whisper, the fabric both surprisingly see through and comfortable, her breasts a softened vision beneath the garment. She stood there admiring the look, rotating her hips, pushing her chest out, putting one leg, then the other, forward. 

Decision made, Gwen carefully removed the garment and hung it. She paused before dressing, her inhibitions washed away to the point where she cupped her breasts with both hands, a small wave of pleasure washing over her, before she reluctantly donned her bra and dress. Satisfied everything was in order, she grabbed the dress and nightgown and turned to leave.

The young man had moved and was now grinning at her through the gap in the curtain. She blushed, averting her eyes as she moved into the hallway, and Gwen was intent on dropping both garments on the desk and leaving at a run. The Slut held her to plan. "I'm taking one," she announced carefully as she dropped the dress in front of the teenaged clerk. Not waiting for a response, she moved back into the lingerie section to find a register. Gwen studied the middle-aged woman ringing up her purchase, looking for any sign of disapproval from the clerk, but could not find anything to feed her paranoia. Sale completed, she hurried from the store and to her car. 

That guy saw you pretty darn close to naked, the freed Lady screamed. And he might have seen you touch yourself!

Kinda cool huh? the Slut replied, smile on her face. Think he might touch himself later?

Gwen smiled at the thought before pushing it from her mind, deciding she might be mentally ill.

It was the thought she might be cracking up that kept her from repeating her performance by the kitchen window after she arrived home. Instead, she spent the time worrying about her mental health, and what that young man might tell others about what he saw. Could she be arrested for touching her breasts in a dressing room?

Gwen did her best to distract herself by making Mac and Cheese, Tim's favorite, from scratch, reciting the recipe to herself to give her focus. He did most of the talking during and after dinner that night, regaling his wife with stories from the job site and potential customers that were lining up. Gwen's mind, however, was elsewhere. 

"I'm going to bed early," she announced after an hour of watching TV. "I'm pretty tired."

"Good idea, Tim agreed. "It was a pretty late night last night. I'll be along shortly."

"Don't stay up too late." She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek before retiring. 

Tim made his way to the bedroom twenty minutes later, mildly surprised to find his wife still awake and reading, more surprised to see her lying on top of the covers. He was most surprised to find her dressed in a nightgown he had never seen before. The gauzy fabric only seemed to end just below her hips, where a pair of blue panties peeked out from underneath. Despite the filminess of the material, she had chosen to leave her breasts unfettered, making them faintly visible to him. 

"New nightgown?"

"Mm-hmm," she replied as he stripped down to his shorts. "I thought it might be nice to have something lighter for the summer." 

"I like it," he said in a deliberate understatement as he slid under the blanket. Tim briefly thought about making his desire for a little carnal contact known, but weeknights were usually a no-go, the other night notwithstanding. Leaning over after Gwen had put down her book and glasses, he kissed her. "Good night."

His wife didn't reply, instead slipping her hand under the blankets, down to where she knew the top of his underwear to be. Her hand began to turn light circles over the hairy skin, gently smoothing and stroking. Tim lay there, unsure if he could be so lucky as to possibly have sex twice in three days. The hand dipped below the waistband, finding the head of his rapidly swelling member, and he knew it was not just his imagination. 

Tim rolled to his side to kiss her. "Did, you, uhh, want to turn out the light?" 

"I'm OK with it on," Gwen replied. "Unless you want me to turn it off," she added quickly. 

"No, no, I'm fine with it." Well, this was a first. 

Their lips met, and he began to caress his way up her hip, the garment sliding up with him, Tim very pleased not to have to pull up acres of nightgown to get to the treasures underneath. The same lack of resistance was also appreciated as he did not have to contend with her bra to gingerly place a palm on her breast. Gwen's hips began to twitch, her panty-covered crotch pressing against his thigh.

The aroused woman broke their kiss, and Tim feared he had overstepped his bounds. Gwen, however, quickly sat up while her hands went to his shorts, urgently trying to pull them down. His hands gladly went to help her as he rolled onto his back, pushing his underwear down his legs in one motion before rolling up into a sitting position and reaching for hers. He had done enough laundry as well to know that their faded condition indicated they had originally belonged to one of his daughters. He also noted a dark blue wet spot where the light blue triangles joined...Gwen raised her hips, allowing him to slide them down to her ankles, where she carelessly kicked them off. Their kiss was rejoined, Tim finding her sex while her stroking of his member became more urgent. 

"I'm uhh, going to finish soon if you're not careful," Tim warned as her hand grasped and pulled more firmly. 

"Ohh—okay," Gwen replied as she lay back and spread her legs. Disappointed as she was to lose the feeling of his hand between her legs, especially that close to her own orgasm, Gwen knew she had a service to perform for her husband. 

Tim took her actions as the sign that foreplay was over, and that meant, as it had for all of these years, that it was time to finish in the time-honored fashion. He rolled between her outstretched legs, taking in the sight of his wife naked from the waist down and splayed before him, breasts faintly visible. That'll be one to remember for my self-abuse sessions, he mused, before lowering himself down on top of her, the tip of his length poised against her nether lips. Tim pushed forward and sank into her wetness until he could go no further. 

Gwen's body was not to be denied, however. Her hips instinctively thrust up, driving her clit onto the bone of her husband's midsection. Desperately she tried to maintain the pressure against her tingling nub, legs reflexively wrapping around her Tim's waist, grinding herself into him. He was spurred by the novelty and intensity of her passion and sought to bury himself even deeper in her, driving and thrusting into her sex while legs that has spent a lifetime controlling horses sought to bring the same control from her man. His orgasm flashed, ejaculation boiling up and out his length while he buried himself in his wife's channel. His last twitch started Gwen's own climax, her legs and arms tightening so much around her husband's body he feared she might break bone—hers or his. Tim lay there in his post-orgasmic glow while Gwen shuddered through hers. Finally spent, her grip on him loosened, and her legs fell away in exhaustion.

"Wow," was all he could say as their breathing returned to normal. Tim rolled to his side of the bed and held her. 

"Yeah, wow," was all Gwen could reply before rising and hurrying to the bathroom to clean up. Moments later she returned in a more traditional pair of full panties, Tim noting with satisfaction that the nightgown had stayed while a bra had been omitted. She seemed somewhat flustered and embarrassed as she turned off the light and slid under the covers, and Tim moved to comfort her. 

"That was great," he rumbled while holding her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she replied without looking at him. "You deserve it."

Gwen lay there looking at the ceiling long after her husband had fallen asleep.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 03



(Author's note: Thank you to all who have sent encouraging comments and e-mails, as well as the constructive critique! Writing is much easier when you know you have an interested audience. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.) 

*

The dream returned that night. She was again chained and bound in the center of the mall, slowly turning as shoppers strolled by. The naked man was back, this time joined by her admirer from yesterday. The two were standing on opposite sides of the stage so that while one had a perfect view of her breasts and opened legs, the other had an equally clear view of her tensed rear-end and bound arms. As the pedestal turned beneath her, she could see the pot-bellied man stroking his inhuman length while the man with the chiseled chest and muscular arms did the same to his own massive shaft. Again, Gwen awoke before she could see how it ended.

By the time Tim stumbled into the kitchen that morning, Gwen had made pancakes and a decision on what she had to do. 

"You getting up early like this is going to make me fat," Tim teased as he sat down. 

"You work too hard to get fat," she gently admonished, mind racing in all directions while the Lady sat triumphantly on her shoulder. "You really need to relax more."

"Last night was pretty relaxing," her husband replied, risking a joke. Sex was something rarely discussed and never made light of, but he sensed something had changed. 

Gwen grunted in response, wanting to tell him how much she had enjoyed it too, but knowing to admit that would be wrong, that it would also be further evidence of her mental instability. 

Tim rose and hugged her. "I haven't seen you get up early like this since the girls were still here. What's bothering you?"

Gwen smiled and patted his arm, then stood and moved to the coffee maker. "Nothing serious, dear, just silly woman's stuff." She really wanted to confess to him how she thought she was becoming a pervert, how she thought she was going crazy, but not now. Not until she had a chance to talk to someone else, maybe get some professional help...

He let it slide and the morning went on as it normally did. The last truck was pulling on to the road when Gwen dialed the phone.

"...hello?" came a sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi Natalie? It's Gwen. It sounds like I woke you?"

"Yeah, I've got the three-to-midnight shift at the hospital. One of the other supervisors is on maternity leave," the slowly waking voice replied. "What's up?'

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize!" Gwen stammered. "I can call back later!"

"No, no, it's fine, I was going to get up soon anyways," her sister lied. "What's up?"

"Well, I was uhhh, wondering if you, uhh, might like to go riding today?"

"Sure, sounds like fun. Are you coming, too?" she asked with a hint of teasing sarcasm.

"Of course!" Gwen answered, not missing the jibe. While she and Natalie had always been polite and civil to each other, they had not developed a bond—Gwen had always thought her too spirited and carefree for her tastes, Natalie seeing her sister as a prim stick-in-the-mud. "I thought since I'm taking Dart out, and Tigger hasn't been ridden since KD was home before she went off for her summer internship, that you might like to come up?"

"Sounds great," the voice answered. "Be up in a couple of hours?" 

Both horses were groomed and saddled when Natalie pulled into the yard. Out of sheer force of habit Gwen appraised the woman's attire as she approached—snug fitting jeans that Gwen knew from experience just barely contained and concealed a very round rear-end, and an equally tight white pocket-T. She noted with grim amusement that Natalie's pink jogbra was clearly visible underneath the shirt, the woman's abundant chest bouncing slightly despite the evident support. Gwen could never understand how women could wear only a jogbra when exercisinga—a bra was a bra as far as she was concerned, and should not be seen. The fact that Natalie's was covered by layer of thin white fabric was only slightly better. At least she was wearing proper boots, Gwen sighed to herself. 

A polite hug and pleasantries were exchanged, and she watched as her sister effortlessly swung into the saddle. She was a natural rider, Gwen had to admit to herself. Natalie had never ridden prior to meeting Gwen's brother Adam, but took to it naturally every time she was offered the chance to ride one of the Nelson horses. She's very comfortable in the saddle, she thought, but Miss Ritter, the chief riding instructor at the stable Gwen had worked at before meeting Tim, would have an absolute fit if she could see her posture. Memories from that time began to collect. Not now, Gwen told herself angrily. Not now!

The pair started up the trail into the woods behind the house, exchanging small talk about various family interests and goings on. Gradually, the two lapsed into silence, the sound of eight hooves thudding against the packed dirt keeping time with the songbirds sitting above the by the the treelined path. 

"Natalie, you took some psychology courses when you went to school, didn't you?"

The content and suddenness of the question surprised the younger woman. "Yeah, it's part of the curriculum at any accredited nursing college. I also did a rotation in the medical psych ward when I was getting my certificate. Why do you ask?" 

"Well..." the woman next to her shifted uneasily and pressed on. "Well, I'm hoping you can give me your opinion on something."

Natalie chose her words carefully. "OK, you know I'm not a mental health expert, right? I can give you my opinion, but it's just that."

Gwen smiled in acknowledgement. The family had assumed when they first meet Adam's new girlfriend that she was just a bubble-headed blonde hoping to score some money from the family in an 'oops, I'm pregnant" sort of way, but she had proven herself to be a very smart, savvy woman, scoring high marks in the nursing program she had attended before earning praise and recognition for her abilities and grace under pressure in the Emergency room. In turn, she had parlayed this into a move into the Cardiac Care wing, and now, a supervisory position. No, she was not a mental health expert, but probably the closest to one that Gwen knew. 

"I know, but maybe you can point me in the right direction. I can trust you to keep this a secret, right? Even from Tim and Adam?"

"What's said between us, stays between us," Natalie replied gravely. "That goes both ways."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. So..." Gwen mustered her courage, unsure how to start now that she was here. "So, I was shopping for a new dress earlier this week, and I tried one on. Unfortunately, I accidentally left the dressing room curtain open a little, and I think there was a guy in the waiting area who might have seen me in my underwear." Natalie looked at her sister impassively, waiting for more.

"It was a complete accident," Gwen repeated, "and at first I was upset, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized I was kind of excited by it, by the idea this guy would want to look at me." 

"A guy saw you in your underwear and it turned you on. Not seeing the need for shock therapy yet. Is there more?" Natalie deadpanned.

"Yes, of course," Gwen responded, mildly surprised her riding companion did not find her admission the least bit shocking. "The next day, I spent the day running around the house in my underwear, and I, uhhh, this is so hard to say...I touched myself down there." The blushing woman dropped her gaze to her crotch. 

Natalie's looked over at her sister. "Did you know that at the turn of the century, physicians would use vibrators to give orgasms to women showing signs of 'hysteria'? Said it relaxed and quieted them, and that it was a sure cure. Imagine that. I'm sorry, I interrupted you. I'm guessing you were imagining that someone could see you running around like that? Or maybe hoping?"

Gwen nodded her head, unwilling to make eye contact.

"Anything else?"

"Yesterday, I went dress shopping again. This time I intentionally left the curtain open a little. I didn't think anyone would see me, but..."

"Someone did?"

Again her sister nodded miserably, and Natalie could sense the torture she was putting herself through. "Anything else?"

"Natalie, isn't that enough? That I like showing myself to strange men, so much so that I can't stop thinking about it? And my dreams.—" Gwen stopped herself, unwilling to discuss that aspect. 

"You had dreams about it, Gwen? Do you remember them? C'mon, you can tell me, your secret is safe with me, right?" 

Still Gwen resisted, wanting to lie and tell her she could not remember them.

"Dreams are just dreams," Natalie said gently. "They're where the mind goes to take time off from the serious business of keeping our bodies going. Look, when I first started in Cardio, there was this patient—really handsome guy, really big penis." Gwen looked at her in shock. "Hey, I'm a nurse, not a robot," Natalie explained. "We notice these things. Anyways, he was in because of an arrhythmia. Well, all the cardio patients' heart rates are monitored from the nurse's station, in case someone goes into arrest, that kind of thing. I was on the late shift one night, and this guy's heart rate and BP start to climb. I saw it and got up to go to his room to see what the problem was, but one of the older nurses stopped me. 'He's fine,' she said. 

But look at the monitor, I told her. That doesn't look good.

He's fine, she told me again. It'll be back to normal in a few minutes.

How do you know that? I asked.

She laughed and said, "he's masturbating. Once he finishes he'll be back to normal. He's cleared for light exercise, and I'd say this qualifies, don't you? But if you want to go help clean up, make sure the monitor leads don't get wet..."

Natalie laughed. "I guess this was a common occurrence and kind of an initiation that all the new nurses go through. And you know what, for a week after that I had a recurring dream where I had to resuscitate that guy by rushing in there and giving him head! Now, I knew from my training that CPR didn't work that way, and it would get me fired and possibly prosecuted, but my brain knew no boundaries when I was asleep. Same thing for you. Just because you're dreaming something doesn't mean it has to happen in real life, So, what are you dreaming about?"

Gwen decided to bare all, to reveal just how sick she really was. "I had the same dream, twice," she muttered while looking down at the trail moving along below her. "I was tied up on the center stage at the mall, and I was naked. The two guys who saw me in the dressing room were naked too, and they were looking at me. They, were, uhh, touching their things..."

"Sounds interesting. Anything else?"

"Isn't THAT enough?" Gwen wailed, again spooking Dart below her. "Why are you making fun of me? I need help!"

Natalie's voice softened. "Gwen honey, if I thought you needed professional help I would be right there to find you the best person in the state. But honestly, I'd bet that after they get your insurance money they'd say you're normal. Knowing what I do about your parents and your brother, I think you've repressed your sexuality all these years, and now it wants out. To put it bluntly, you need to get laid."

"But, Tim and I were...intimate... twice this week, and still I want more, I still had those dreams!"

"There's nothing that says you can't get off more than twice a week...is Tim a once in a while guy?"

"Oh, no!" Gwen assured her. "I get the feeling he'd do it every night if he could, but he's a guy. He's supposed to be like that."

"Why can't a woman be like that?"

They rode in silence for a moment, Gwen trying to put into words why that was unacceptable. "I guess, just because," she finally offered. 

"Until you can come up with a good reason, 'because' is no reason at all." 

"But I'm exposing myself to strange men! That can't be normal!" Gwen countered defensively. 

"It's not abnormal...more women enjoy being attractive to others than I think you want to admit. If you want to show off a little and the guys want to look, who's suffering in the exchange?"

Gwen began to answer, but stopped. Neither of the men had seemed to be offended by what they had seen. 

"Does Tim know?" Natalie asked quietly.

"Oh God, no. No man wants his wife exposing herself to other men."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, either. Have you ever brought it up with him? Maybe as part of some bedroom talk?"

Gwen quickly corrected her sister "Oh, we don't talk when we're being, uhh, intimate."

"That's too bad. You should try it. It drives guys wild to hear your fantasies. The old 'saint in the kitchen, whore in the bedroom' thing. Tell him about your first accident. He can't get mad at you for that—it wasn't your fault. See what he does." 

"I don't know..."

Natalie pulled Tigger's reins, bringing him to a halt. "Gwen, allow me to give you my diagnosis and suggested treatment as Dr. Natalie Curran, amateur psychologist and unabashed female sexuality advocate. You are very normal, just way behind where you should be in your sexual awakening. Let it out, explore. It sounds like you have some catching up to do. Take Tim along for the ride. As you pointed out, he's a guy, and we both know guys think with their little head if you let them. 

Most girls have someone more...experienced...they talk about this kind of stuff with. I know I did, I know Ali and KD did, and I know Annie talks to me and your daughters. It sounds like you missed out on that, so if you want, I would be glad to be that person. Just our secret, I promise."

Gwen hesitated for a moment. How did Natalie know that her daughter was talking to Ali and KD? How did she know that Ali and KD had someone to talk to? "Thank you Natalie, I appreciate that," Gwen finally replied, trying to stay focused on her problem, "but still think I'm mentally ill."

"You will be if you keep trying to push this away," Natalie warned. "Let it out. You'll feel better, and it sounds like Tim will, too. And speaking of Tim, your prescription tonight is to say something sexy in bed to him. It doesn't have to be earth-shattering, just something you've never said before that you wouldn't say at Sunday dinner. I'm guessing there's a lot that would qualify.

I have no doubt he's the person you trust most in this world, so open the door to your new world jut a crack. Maybe little by little at first, at least until you can convince yourself there's nothing to be afraid of, but show him. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Promise?"

"I don't know, Natalie, I'll try..."

Don't try, do it. Now, I want to gallop back to the barn. Can you watch me and make sure my form is acceptable?" 

Gwen was happy to switch to the role of teacher, to be in control again, calling out small corrections as they rode, her mind temporarily back at the stables where she had been an instructor. 

The two women groomed the horses before turning them out in the paddock. "Well, I am certainly fragrant," Natalie announced as she stored the last brush. 

Gwen smiled. "Horseflesh and this heat will do that."

"Would you mind if I took a swim and changed here? I brought my scrubs, and I can go straight to the hospital after."

"No, not at all," Gwen assured her. "Come on in and change into your suit while I go get mine."

"I didn't think to bring a suit. Would it be OK if I swim in my underwear?"

Gwen hesitated, trying not to look directly at the pink bra now clearly visible through the sweat-soaked t-shirt clinging to her sister's skin. "Umm, sure why not? But if you want," she hurriedly added, "I can see if KD left a suit behind—you might fit into hers."

"Don't put yourself out," Natalie insisted. "This will be fine. Need any help inside?"

"No, no, you go up to the pool. Do you think you'll need a towel?"

Natalie smiled. "That would be great."

Gwen hurried to the bedroom, closing the door behind her without even thinking. Sweat-sodden clothes were carefully dropped in the hamper and replaced by her modest one-piece black bathing suit and a robe-like cover-up, sandals slipped on her feet. Grabbing two beach towels, she made her way back outside and up the short hill behind the house to where the pool overlooked the property. 

Tim had built the pool back when the girls were still very young as a refuge from the brutal summer heat. He had also had the foresight to mount solar panels on a nearby cabana as well as small propane tankless heater to help keep the water at no less than 72 degrees at all times. As a result, regardless of the time of year the girls had spent most of their young lives going back and forth between barn and pool. The cabana also had a small changing room and shower, though Gwen could never imagine changing out there, though.

No extra heat was required today. The water sparkled in the hot bright sun, and even though Gwen could not see her sister from the bottom of the rise, she could assume from the jeans and t-shirt hanging over the low fence, Natalie had not used the changing room either. She was at the top of the stairs before she could see her head breaking the surface, a very full bra plainly visible just below the water while a matching pair of pink panties could be made out further down. 

"It's perfect!" she called out, pushing her long blond hair back. "C'mon in!"

Gwen demurely removed her robe and adjusted her suit before stepping down the wide stairs and wading towards the deep end. 

"Gwen, if you don't mind me asking, that's the only suit I can ever remember you wearing. Do you have others, or do you just keep that one for when somebody's around?"

"No, I have another one just like this. I bought them together." Gwen paused for a moment, letting's Natalie's question sink in. "What do you mean, 'for when somebody's around'?" 

"Well, this is a perfect spot for skinnydipping. Don't you ever?"

"Oh no, I would never do that! What if somebody came by?"

"What if somebody did?" Natalie replied, one eyebrow arched conspiratorially. "Do customers or your employees after stop in after hours?"

"No, not really," Gwen had to admit. "Still, what if they did?"

"Yeah, what if they did?" Natalie let the topic drop and crouched at the bottom of the pool, pushing off to the deep end. The women stayed in a few moments more, Gwen just huddling in one spot while her sister casually paddled about. 

"I should probably get to work," Natalie said with some reluctance as she headed for the pool steps. They both got out and toweled down, Gwen noting that the other woman's nipples were plainly visible through the wet, straining fabric. 

"Hey, can I borrow your sandals?" Natalie asked as the pair reached the kitchen deck. "Forgot my stuff in the car." Gwen slid them off, and Natalie hurried across the gravel, trading her jeans, t-shirt and boots for a bag on the back seat. Gwen marveled at the fact that this woman was in the middle of her yard in just her underwear, seemingly unfazed in the slightest. She briefly imagined herself doing the same. 

The woman clad in bright pink hurried back, breasts bouncing as she moved. "Thanks," she breathed as she reached the deck and kicked off the borrowed sandals. 

Gwen opened the door for her. "If you want a shower before you go, you know where the bathroom is," she called as Natalie moved down the hall. 

"Thanks, but the swim was perfect," she heard her call over her shoulder as she moved out of sight. Gwen checked the phone for messages. Seeing none, she started to her room to change. 

"Natalie, I really want to thank—" she stopped as she looked past the open door on her left to find her sister bent at the waist and totally nude, vigorously toweling her wet hair. Natalie's mounds swinging violently as she dried, "Her breasts are huge—so much bigger than mine," she thought before looking further down and seeing just a small tuft of already-dry blonde hair sitting above a cleanly shaven pair of vaginal lips. "Oops—sorry, I'm so sorry—I didn't realize you had started changing," she blurted while turning and moving back up the hall. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 03



"Nothing to be sorry about," the voice came back. "Whatever modesty I might have had at one time was obliterated by living in a two-bedroom one-bath apartment with three other nursing students. And the locker room at the hospital is no better. They took the shower curtains down to prevent staph infections." 

"Still, very sorry..."

Natalie stepped from the bathroom. "Gwen, look at me." The woman refused to turn. "Look at me." Her voice was softer, yet it seemed like more of a command than a request this time, and Gwen found herself obeying. Natalie was still naked, towel in hand, damp hair hanging down over her back and breasts. "I've got nothing to hide, and you shouldn't either." Natalie stepped back into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door, and emerged a few moments later in scrubs. "I left the towel on the rack." Gwen nodded, but said nothing. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?" her sister asked brightly. 

"Well, tomorrow's Saturday, so probably some yardwork or something."

"Let's go shopping, you and me. I think you need a new bathing suit—at least, for when people are around," Natalie said with an impish grin.

"But this is fine," Gwen protested, motioning to her robe-clad body. "It's not worn out."

"It's fine if you were alive in the 1920's," Natalie insisted. "That body of yours deserves something nicer. Meet me at the mall at 10." 

The mention of the mall brought both a twinge of excitement and a pang of anxiety. "I could go look, I guess. Where should we meet?"

"The center court, where else?" Natalie grinned again and hugged her sister. "Gotta go. See you tomorrow." The tone of her voice made it clear the date was not optional.

Gwen mechanically selected underwear, jeans and shirt, dressed, and took a bottle of wine out to the deck, where she spent the afternoon thinking. The dark spectre of insanity still lurked, but Natalie's casual dismissal of it had helped bring it to a manageable level. It was her sister's behavior that meant the most, however. Natalie was smart, caring, funny, confident; and yet her seemingly complete lack of propriety had not had any negative consequences on her life that she could see. The wine and the thinking made the Lady and the Slut as light on her shoulders as she could ever remember. 

All three trucks were back by four that afternoon. Gwen prepared a salad while Tim grilled some steaks, and after a quick swim, both were happily settled in front of the TV. The assignment Natalie had given her for the evening began to weigh heavily on her—what would she say, how would Tim react? Would he think her a slut? Could she even go through with it?

In the end, she didn't get to find out. Tim made it a point to only drink on weekends, and even then, no more than a couple of beers. The alcohol and the work week took their toll, and he was snoring softly on the couch before 8. Gwen gently prodded him to go to bed, Tim sleepily acquiescing while she closed up the house. She found her husband fast asleep by the time she reached the bedroom. There is no way I'm going to wake the poor man tonight to satisfy my carnal lusts, Gwen thought, and found herself vaguely disappointed she would be unable to complete her assignment. 

Gwen went to the bathroom to dress for bed. The nightgown she had purchased was not quite as comfortable as hoped. Despite their length, she loved the feel of her more traditional sleepwear. The fabric was like a broken in t-shirt...I've got t-shirts, she reasoned. Gwen hurried to the walk-in closet, to where her t-shirts were neatly folded and stacked. A clean and well-worn Nelson Plumbing shirt lay on the top of the pile, faded from its time in the sun. She quickly slipped it over her head, knowing from experience it would fall to the top of her thighs. 

A wicked thought crossed her mind. She had never not worn panties to bed that she could ever remember. Tonight would be the night. Gwen hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pushed down, picking up the discarded pair for deposit in the hamper. Gwen left the closet and strutted about the room, very aware of just how high the shirt rode, and just how naked she was beneath it as her uncovered sex felt the cool bedroom air. Finally calling a halt to her silly game, she slid under the covers. Sleep came quickly. 

Dawn was just beginning to lighten the room when Gwen awoke with a start. She quickly realized it was not a dream—that dream—that had awoken her but something new. During the night, she had rolled to her side as she did most nights. At some point, Tim would snuggle in behind her, arm thrown over her midsection to draw her in. It took her a moment to work out was different. The t-shirt she had brazenly donned the night before had ridden up while she slept, and now her husband's semi-erect member was nestled securely between the cheeks of her rear end, only the thin fabric of his boxers between him and her. Gwen decided the feeling was not at all unpleasant, and found herself wishing the shorts would magically split open. Her hips, almost with a mind of their own, slowly began to undulate. 

Gwen wanted to believe she could feel his length begin to grow. Was it fair to wake him if his member was already showing signs of life? She decided it was. Slowly, the aroused woman reached between her legs, her wrist sensing the heat and wetness of her sex, and began to look for a way through Tim's shorts to the object of her desire. A conveniently placed leg hole gave her the opportunity she craved, and her fingers detected the wiry tangle of his pubic hair before sliding over his testicles. 

Tim awoke with a snort, and Gwen froze. "Good morning," she whispered, not daring to look back over her shoulder, and boldly began to pet the base of her husband's shaft. 

"Good morning," he sighed, hips beginning to twitch as they realized what they were pressed up against. Gwen took this as a good sign and did her best to lavish attention on any part of her husband's tool that was not firmly wedged between her cheeks. A small grunt of approval escaped from him as a roving hand discovered she was naked from the waist down. The couple continued their dance for several moments, only their hips and hands moving as they awoke from their sleep. 

The sliding of his fabric-covered head beyond the top of her cleft with each gentle thrust left no doubt that he was fully erect. "Would you like to put it in me?" she asked softly, afraid what his response to her forwardness might be. 

Tim did his best to hide the shock from hearing his wife ask him to mount her. "Mm-hmm."

"Please, put it in me. I want you to." She felt Tim's hips pull away just long enough for his free hand to leave her bare hip and frantically lever down his shorts below his sack. The hips returned to hers, his slick length sliding up and down her cheeks. It doesn't go there, she thought, but how do I get it where it does go? This was all new—she had never taken him from behind before, what was proper in these situations? 

Tim partially answered the question by using his free hand to quickly flip his member between her thighs and pushing forward. Her husband's length slid along her valley, the head bumping up against her clit before withdrawing. He repeated this several times, each thrust looking for the entry to paradise before animal instinct drove Gwen's hips to tilt as he thrust, his shaft sliding into her.

Tim groaned in pleasure at the feeling while Gwen sighed, each pleased with the reaction from the other. Her husband's hand returned to her hip and pulled her tightly to him, Gwen awash in the primal lust this position awakened. 

Tim's pace began to quicken, his thighs softly slapping against his wife's rear. The sound of their flesh meeting only spurred Gwen on more—it was so carnal, the way her mate was taking her! His fingers tightened on her skin, and Gwen knew he was close. With a small grunt and a final thrust, he spent himself inside of her, twitching as each orgasmic pulse flowed through him.

Finally satiated, her husband nuzzled her neck, a soft moan of pleasure escaping his lips. Gwen was glad that he was obviously satisfied and not somehow upset, but she knew her own fulfillment had not yet come. She briefly considered asking the man who was even now softening inside of her to use his fingers for her own pleasure, but she dismissed the thought. No, it's much too messy down there now, she reasoned. It wouldn't be right to ask him to do that. 

Gwen reached behind and patted Tim on his bare haunch, dangerously close to his rear end. "I'm going to take a shower," she whispered as she pulled away from him and rose, careful to bring the t-shirt down as much as she could to cover herself before hurrying to the bathroom. Cleaning herself immediately after their intimate moments had been a priority ever since that time on their honeymoon when she had tarried, only, to her horror, to discover the remains of Tim's orgasm sliding down the inside of her thigh. 

Sodden toilet paper in her hand revealed she had indeed found a good portion of his spend. Quickly pulling the t-shirt over her head, she stepped into the shower stall to rinse away what the toilet paper had missed and prepare for the day. Gwen briefly thought about using her own fingers to finish what Tim had started, the thought of him being in the next room while she was touching herself thrilling in its own right, but in the end she decided to wait until the night, when perhaps she and her husband might bend the rules and do it again. The Slut protested the delay, but to no avail. Soon she was showered, dressed and making breakfast.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 04



(Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.)

Chapter 4

"I forgot to tell you. Natalie came over yesterday and we went riding," Gwen casually mentioned as her husband stirred his morning coffee. 

"She did?" Tim asked in mild surprise. Gwen and her sister had, at best, a cordial relationship, and most of their get-togethers in the past had been with a buffer of family thrown in. Not that they had ever fought, just that they were...different. 

"Uh-huh. She asked me to go shopping with her today. Are you alright if I go?"

"Sure, sure, of course," the befuddled man volunteered even as his mind began to analyze the news. Gwen and Natalie spending time together? Did this have anything to do with his wife's out-of-character behavior in the bedroom? He had long admired his sister from afar, her looks and dress generating less-than pure thoughts. Whispered stories and hints from Adam about her sexual proclivities only helped to fuel his imagination, making Natalie a frequent star of his masturbatory fantasies. Tim knew he would never act on them—he loved Gwen too much to ever do anything like that, but still, if his wife even adopted just some of her sister-in-law's habits and attitudes..."I'll be busy this morning moving that pile your walking manure machines made, anyways." 

He waved from his seat on the tractor as Gwen pulled out of the yard. Normally, Tim would take the time when she was away from the house to relieve his sexual tension, sometimes going as far as to head up to the pool and strip down before using his hand, a vivid imagination, and the thrill of being naked outdoors to achieve the desired result. A quick swim would wash away the evidence, and his wife was none the wiser. Today was different, though. Gwen's morning invitation, a first in more ways than one, had left him sexually content if not puzzled. What the heck was going on and should he be pleased or concerned? His satiated libido counseled happiness.

Gwen's mind was not on the morning events as she drove, but rather what was to come that day. Exposing herself was obviously out of the question with Natalie around, but what if something were to "accidentally" happen? The lurking unfulfilled orgasm from the morning only helped the Slut suggest scenarios while the Lady again lay bound at her feet, suit jacket gone, white shirt open to the waist. 

She arrived at the center court at two minutes to ten, Natalie already there and waiting. The two women hugged, and Gwen noticed that for the first time, she truly welcomed the contact with her sister, reveling in the feeling of closeness that seemed to have developed overnight. Gwen realized the feeling was trust, something lacking from her interactions with most other humans. You get mushy when you get horny, the Lady grumbled. Show some self-restraint and common sense.

The two women broke their embrace and Natalie led the way further into the mall. 

"Crandall's is the other way," Gwen called out at the retreating woman's back. 

Natalie stopped and turned. "Did you get your last suits at Crandall's?"

"Sure—I do most of my shopping there."

Natalie smiled. "Yeah. Let's try something different. Follow me."

Gwen looked back over her shoulder towards her comfort zone, then hurried after her sister. The pair stopped in front of a brightly-colored storefront with a tropical theme. 

"Brazil? Natalie, this is where my daughters shop."

"They've got a great sale going on right now." The woman pushed on in, heading straight for the swimsuits, Gwen in tow. Natalie scanned several racks, Gwen aghast at how brief some of the swimwear on display was—there was one mannequin in nothing more than three tiny triangles of fabric!

In short time, her sister held three possibilities. "Can I help you la—oh, hi, Mrs. Curran!"

The two shoppers turned to see a young woman of maybe eighteen standing at their side.

"Oh, hi Ashley, I was wondering if you would be here today. Ashley, this is Gwen Nelson, Tyler's aunt. Gwen, this is Tyler's friend Ashley."

"Nice to meet you," Gwen mumbled, embarrassed she had been caught looking at such scandalous things.

"I think Gwen would like to try these on," Natalie continued, holding out three hangers from which strips of fabric hung. 

"Oh, sure! Dressing rooms are back there—" the teen motioned nodded back over her shoulder—"let me know if you need anything!"

Natalie led the way as the young salesclerk moved off. Six cubicles, each with a pair of saloon-style doors, lay tucked behind the sales floor. Gwen noted with a little disappointment that there was no apparent waiting area for the significant others who had been dragged along. Her sister stopped at the first cubicle on the right, its doors open, and handed the garments to the nervous woman behind her. 

Gwen stepped into the changing area and shut the doors behind her, carefully checking to ensure she had closed them completely. Trying on these skimpy pieces of fabric was going to be challenging enough without showing the world what she was doing. Despite her self-assurances of privacy, she turned away from the doorway before stepping out of her skirt and slip. The removal of her bra brought a fresh wave of arousal as her naked breasts felt the chill of the air-conditioning, and she briefly imagined someone looking through a peephole at her nearly-naked body before banishing the thought and reaching for the first suit. 

Natalie had dismissed any possibility of a new one-piece model in compromise, and all that hung on the hook now were two-piece in design. Gwen quickly stepped into the bottoms of her first selection, pulling them up over her panties before donning the top. She was shocked to discover just how little was covered, less than she had ever worn, but still, it was more than some of the things she had seen her daughters in. Even underwear was not supposed to be this brief, for God's sake.

"Can I look?" came the voice from outside the cubicle.

"Uhh, sure," Gwen replied after one more quick check to ensure everything was covered before deciding not everything could be covered, just the naughtiest bits. 

The doors were flung open and Natalie stepped in, examining her. "Oh Lord, no," she smiled in mock exasperation. "Wait right here—do not move," she ordered, and disappeared, not even bothering to close the doors behind her. Gwen reached to pull them shut, but stopped. One of the doors to the cubicle across from her was open several inches, giving her a view she imagined those men had gotten of her earlier in the week. Behind the partially-open door, a tall, thin, twenty-something woman with small breasts was stepping into a bikini bottom, ready to pull them up over an incredibly small pair of panties. The brunette's bare boobs dangled as she bent over, wobbling a bit from the effort despite their size. Suddenly, Gwen understood what her two admirers had been feeling—the thrill of seeing something you shouldn't be seeing, something beautiful yet not to be displayed to everyone. She looked away, knowing she should close her own door, yet she delayed, hoping to give the woman across the hall her own sneak peek. Gwen finally decided to model for herself and the nearly naked woman behind her, turning in the mirror to admire the bikini, occasionally glancing furtively into the other woman's dressing room. 

From outside came Natalie's voice. "Ashley, these are paid for," and suddenly her sister reappeared, holding a small piece of pink fabric. Natalie pulled a tag from them and tossed them to Gwen. "Here, put these on," she ordered. "Those granny panties make you look like you're wearing a diaper under that bikini.

Gwen looked at herself in the mirror and grudgingly agreed that Natalie was right—her underwear seemed to bloom out from beneath the floral print about her waist and crotch. She briefly examined the pair Natalie had thrown her. They were small, really small, probably as small as the woman's in the other dressing room. The cotton fabric consisted of a tiny triangle attached to thin waistband, with a slim strap running up the back. "These look smaller than this bikini," Gwen joked weakly.

"That's the idea," Natalie replied. "You want to see what these look like without underwear, right?"

"I guess," Gwen agreed, not sure if she really did. She stood there and stared at her sister while Natalie stared back. "Can you shut the door?" the shaking woman finally asked.

Her sister sighed theatrically, stepped inside, and slid the fabric closed. "I've got to believe everyone here has seen a cooch before," she grumbled softly.

Gwen continued to look at her, confusion obvious on her face. "Aren't you going to wait outside?"

"I've definitely seen a cooch before, C'mon Gwen, off with 'em." 

She knew Natalie was not going to take no for an answer. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, she reluctantly slid the bikini bottom down before quickly lowering her panties and replacing them with the thong. While she hurried to get the bathing suit bottom back around her ankles and up her legs, Natalie dipped and grabbed the discarded underwear, noting the dampness in the crotch before depositing them in her bag. 

"OK, first things first, Gwen. You don't need bare floors, but you really should get rid of the wall-to-wall carpeting and leave a throw rug or two." The blushing woman again looked up in confusion. "Your pubic hair. You need a trim—actually probably a bit more than a trim."

Gwen quickly looked down. Dark, wiry, hair spilled out around the edges and top of the bikini. She had to admit, it looked a lot like she was hiding a fur hat beneath the floral pouch. "See, this is why I should stick to the suits I have," she moaned. "This doesn't look right on me!" 

"Or you could just take ten minutes with some scissors and a razor," Natalie answered with a smile. "If you would rather, I can do it for you. I have plenty of experience with that kind of haircutting."

So I noticed, Gwen thought to herself, remembering her sister's lack of modesty the day before. "No, I can do it." 

"Good! So, turn around, let me see your bum." Natalie stepped forward and inserted a finger in either side of the bikini and began to pull and tug. The feel of her fingers against the bare skin of her cheeks made Gwen jump with surprise. 

"Sorry," her sister apologized with a giggle, "sorry. Hold still."

Gwen did her best to remain in place despite the fingers running up and down her flank, coming dangerously close to the folds of her sex as they adjusted the way the bottoms sat on her taut buttocks. The fingers finally withdrew and Natalie stepped back. "Well you certainly have the ass for a bikini. I wish mine was that well-shaped."

"Yours is beautiful," Gwen said over her shoulder, wanting to return the compliment before even realizing what she was saying. "I mean, from what I've, uhh, seen, not that I was looking..." the blushing woman stopped before she could get in any deeper.

The woman behind her laughed. "Thanks, but mine's kinda, y'know, cushy. Not rock-solid like yours..."

"Horseback riding, I guess," 

"Then we should go riding more. Turn around."

Natalie took a step forward as her sister complied, fingers pushing through the forest of hair to adjust the bottom and make it sit correctly. Gwen was shocked that she could be so nonchalant about touching her like this, finger running down the edges, down to where suit sat against the junction of her thigh, right next to her rapidly moistening lips. She tried to think of a way to get Natalie to stop before she discovered the wetness and became offended, but could think of no good excuse before the fingers were removed. 

Her relief was short-lived as they made their way to the top. Natalie again tugged and pulled, one hand briefly disappearing under the fabric to palm the shocked woman's breast and set it in the cup before repeating the process with the other. Finally, she stepped back.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

"You don't think it's too...you know...skimpy?"

"Nope. Sexy, but not slutty. OK, so how about the next one?"

The process was repeated two more times, Gwen blushing furiously each time she stripped down to her thong, but somehow powerless to protest. Natalie's removal of her bra from the hook and into her bag went unnoticed, and by the third bikini the aroused woman was looking forward to her sister's fingers against her sensitive skin as she made the outfit sit just right. 

"This one, and the first one," Natalie announced after the third top had been thoroughly adjusted.

"I can't get these," Gwen protested. "When would I ever wear them?" 

"Whenever you want. Well, maybe not to a funeral, but other than that..."

"Seriously. These show way too much."

"These show just enough. You're getting them." Gwen wanted to argue, but again found herself powerless to argue with the force in front of her. Somehow, she found the thought of being unable to say no comforting. 

"OK, get out of that and let's go get some lunch," Natalie ordered. Gwen pulled the bikini bottom down, looking for her panties before removing the thong. She looked underneath her skirt and blouse then studied the floor, a sense of desperation rising. 

"Natalie, did you see my underwear?"

"You've got 'em on."

"No, I mean my other ones, the ones I came in with."

"You don't need those any more. Wear what you've got. With my compliments." 

"I can't wear these! I'm wearing a skirt!"

"And a slip, too. You're lucky I didn't take that. You'll be fine. If they couldn't see your bloomers, they can't see what you're wearing now."

Gwen understood the logic, but there was something about her new attire, something that made her feel naked, and she wasn't convinced her skirt would change that.

"And before you start looking for your bra, I've got that, too."

"What!" Gwen hissed, trying to keep her voice low in the enclosed area. "Give it back! I have to have that! My blouse is practically see-through!"

"No it's not," Natalie laughed, "otherwise you wouldn't have worn it. Besides, I checked. You'll be fine."

"But I'll be bouncing all over the place! Everyone will see! I'm begging you, give it back!"

"As an expert on bouncing," Natalie said in a low, serious tone as she looked down meaningfully at her own chest, "I'm pretty sure you won't bounce. Your boobs are nice, but they're not huge. They are very firm though, so I don't think they're going to have a mind of their own. Please? Live a little? For me?"

"I'm going to get arrested, I know it," Gwen muttered as she pulled on her blouse. Carefully buttoning it, she spent several moments examining herself in the mirror, looking for any sign that might reveal her lack of support underneath. Natalie had to stifle a giggle when her sister jumped, looking for signs of excessive movement on her chest. With a sigh, she resigned herself to her fate and pulled on her slip, skirt and flats. 

The pair left the dressing area, Gwen's eyes darting around like a hunted animal for signs that the other shoppers might somehow notice how little she now wore. As much as she wanted to run to the register to complete her purchase and get to the safety of her car, to do so would mean the almost certain risk of her breasts bouncing wildly for all to see. Even at her measured pace, however, she could not deny the wicked feeling of her nipples gently moving against the fabric of her blouse. The Slut purred in satisfaction. 

Gwen intently studied the teen clerk for any sign she might spot the older woman's indiscretion, carefully examining her comment about how she "loved these styles" for any sign of sarcasm or condemnation. 

Transaction completed, the two women joined the throngs moving from store to store, Gwen wildly scanning the crowd for any sign she might have been identified as braless or essentially pantieless. 

"A little early for lunch," Natalie suggested, oblivious to her sister's barely in-check panic, "but if we go now, I can have a glass of wine before my shift this afternoon. Whattya say—head down to O'Malley's in the food court?" 

While Gwen would much rather have made her way home, the thought of hiding in the dimly-lit restaurant was a suitable alternative. Natalie led the way, Gwen standing with legs close together and arms holding down her skirt as the rode the escalator to the ground floor. 

The two women were shown to a high-walled booth in the back corner, the first patrons in the establishment that day. A waitress quickly appeared and took their drink order, Gwen shocked that her sister would drink alcohol before noon, then realizing it might soothe her nerves and ordering a glass of wine as well. The goblets were set before them and their food orders taken. 

"So," Natalie asked softly as she leaned over the table towards the woman desperately trying to avoid attracting attention. "Did you do your homework last night?"

"No, not last night," Gwen replied, nervously checking the room for anyone who might overhear. "But I did this morning," she added quickly, seeing a scowl develop on Natalie's face. 

"Good for you! What did you say?"

Gwen looked down at her glass. "I'd rather not say."

"C'mon, how bad could it be?"

She scanned the dining room again for nearby waitresses. "I, uhh, asked him to...put it in me," she mumbled, avoiding eye contact, aghast that she felt compelled to share this information.

"And did he?" Gwen nodded.

"So he wasn't too offended. How quick did he come?" 

The blushing woman again looked around the room for witnesses, shocked Natalie could ask such a personal question. "Pretty quick," she mumbled. 

"Did you?"

Still Gwen looked at her glass. "No...I was going to ask Tim to...y'know...help me, but I was, umm, too messy down there and didn't think it would be fair."

Natalie looked genuinely shocked. "Too messy? Even for his fingers? Gwen, does Tim ever seem grossed out when he comes on you? Or on himself?"

"Shhh!" she pleaded. "Someone will hear you! I don't know—he's never done that to me, and I've never seen him do that to himself," she answered defiantly. 

Her sister's voice grew soft again. "You've never given Tim a handjob or a blowjob? Or watched him jack off?" she asked, a hint of incredulity creeping into her voice.

"I used my hand on him once or twice when we were dating," Gwen mumbled. "But it was dark, and I didn't see anything, and he went home right after. I figured that after we got married, he would much prefer the real thing to anything less. And no, I've never put my mouth on his...on him." 

Natalie smiled. "OK, next assignment. Tonight, I want you give him a handjob so you can watch it all. Then, have him return the favor." 

"I'm not so sure he'll want to show me...that...it seems so private."

"He will. Trust me, most guys love to show off." 

"Still..."

"Just try it."

The server returned with their food, the tables around them began to fill, and their talk turned to more mundane issues, Gwen marveling at how comfortable she felt around the woman across from her, regretting she had not found out earlier. Lunch was finished and the two women walked to the parking lot together, Gwen still moving carefully as her erect nipples against cotton reminded her of her current state of undress. 

"I've got Monday off," Natalie announced. "Wanna go to the reservoir with me?" 

"Well, I've got some billing to do, I really shouldn't...sure, why not?"

"Great! Pick you up at 9. And by the way, I expect you to wear one of those—" Natalie gestured to the bag in Gwen's hands—"and I'll bring the rest." 

"I told you, I can't wear these in public! What if someone sees me?" 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 04



"Then they'll know what a MILF you are," Natalie replied with a giggle.

"MILF?"

"Mother I'd Like to Fantasize about," Natalie lied. "See you at 9. Don't forget to trim!"

The two said their goodbyes, and Gwen climbed into her sweltering SUV. She sat for a moment, lost in thought while she waited for the air conditioning to take effect. You're almost naked, the Lady said reproachfully. You should get home and dress properly. What if you're in an accident and the hospital finds you with no bra and that strip of fabric passing for panties?

If you're in the emergency room, they'll be looking for blood, not bras and bush, the Slut guffawed. And since you don't have a bra on akyways, why don't you undo a couple buttons on your blouse and let the a/c cool you off that much faster?

Gwen heard the Lady say something undecipherable about the police, but decided not to ask for clarification. Looking about the vehicle and checking all the mirrors, her hands went to the collar of her shirt and began working, fingers stopping only when they had reached the button between her breasts. By moving just so, Gwen could look down and clearly see the tops of her mounds and the valley between them, only the nipples hidden from view by the fabric still pressed against them. Again she checked her surroundings for any passes-by before putting the SUV in gear and heading for home. 

The ride home was exhilarating, occasionally peeking down at her partially opened shirt as if to confirm she really was doing this, and briefly considering opening up yet another button before calmer thoughts prevailed. Gwen managed to reach the safety of her home without incident, almost reluctantly changing into more appropriate attire before joining Tim outside for various chores. While her husband quizzed her about her day with Natalie, she was noncommittal, just replying with the briefest of details about the shopping and their lunch together. She did allow that they had made a date for the beach on Monday, and while Tim was very curious to know more, he refrained from pressuring her. Following a relaxed dinner on the deck, she saddled up Dart and took a quick ride up the trail in the back of the house before returning near dusk.

Gwen could make out Tim sitting on the deck in the gathering darkness as she descended the small hill to the barn. He joined her shortly thereafter, putting away her saddle and reins while she groomed her mount. Satisfied, the horse was turned out in the paddock and the two made their way to the house. 

Tim poured her a glass of wine while she went to change, her absence nearly twenty minutes later making him get up from his easy chair to investigate. "Gwen, everything alright?" he called through the closed bathroom door. She made have loosened up in bed a little, he told himself, but her modesty was still evident. 

"Be out in just a moment," she replied. Smiling and shaking his head, her husband made his way back to his chair. Gwen reappeared five minutes later, wrapped in the robe she always wore around the pool, a slight sheen of perspiration evident on her face. "Being on top of an animal makes you hot," she announced. "Want to go for a swim with me?" 

Tim was back in a minute after exchanging one pair of shorts for another. Together they climbed the short path up to the pool deck, towels and drinks in hand. As was usually the case, he was the first in, his clean dive knifing into the water towards the deep end while his wife set down her drink and carefully laid out her towel and robe for quick retrieval later. Tim surfaced and slowly paddled to the far end before turning back to find her. 

What he saw nearly took his breath away. Gwen was standing at the pool steps, delicately picking her way down them in the soft glow of the deck lights. What startled her husband though, was her bathing suit, or rather, lack of it. In place of the black-skirted bathing costume she had always worn was a brightly colored floral print about her chest and hips and nowhere else. For the first time outside of their bedroom, he could plainly see the smooth, creamy skin of her toned abdomen. "Wow, Gwen," was all he could offer.

She stopped where she was, water up to her knees. The urge to retreat and cover herself fighting the urge to dive forward and submerge, the second plan ignoring the fact she would have to come up for air sometime. Instead, she just froze. "You don't like it?" she squeaked. 

"No, no, I love it," he rushed to assure her. "It's beautiful—you're beautiful!"

"Thank you," she blushed. "Natalie picked it out—I told her it wasn't proper for a wife and mother, but she made me..."

"I'm glad she did! Remind me to thank her!" 

Gwen slowly warmed to the idea that Tim was genuinely enthused and excited, turning around at his request as he swam towards her. "It's beautiful, honey," he repeated. "Can you, uhh, get it wet?"

"Of course, silly," she laughed, but then began to wonder. Could she? She had seen those oufits that clung inappropriately and became nearly transparent once wet. Only one way to find out...

Gwen crouched and gently pushed off gliding across the water's surface until she was in water deep enough to tread in. The pair swam and laughed, Tim occasionally taking her by uncovered waist and hugging her before releasing her again. Gwen noted with relief that the suit was not see through, although the bottoms did mold to her sex a bit more than she would have liked. The coolness of the water and Gwen's growing desire finally drove her from the pool to her robe. Together, they made their way back down the hill to the house. 

"I don't know about you," she said as they put their empty drinks on the kitchen counter, "but I'm ready for bed." Gwen turned to her husband and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry I woke you up so early," she said as she nestled into his chest. "You must be ready for bed, too."

Tim worked to process the signals he was receiving. Was Gwen actually suggesting more than just bed? Was it possible to do it more than once in a day? Neither of these situations had really ever come up before; still, he was not going to take a chance on missing out.

"No need to apologize if you ever want to wake me up like that," he said as he kissed her forehead. "Go on ahead. I'll close up the house." 

Tim started locking doors and windows while doing one more check outside for any lights that might have been left on in the barn or workshop. Satisfied, he retreated to their bedroom, noting the splash of light coming from under the closed door. Gwen was inside, lying on the bedcovers clad in the t-shirt from last night, legs crossed at the ankles while her hands lay folded just below her breasts. Smiling, he made his way to the bathroom to get out of his wet shorts and hang them.

Task completed, he came back into the room and made his way to the dresser drawer for a pair of boxers. Gwen watched his package, shrunken and tight against his groin from the cold of the water, bob as he moved. She had never ceased to marvel at her husband's comfort with his naked body. He never seemed to flaunt it, but certainly had no problem displaying himself in front of her. For the longest time she had averted her eyes to give him privacy, but now, she found herself enjoying the view more and more.  

"Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"If you don't want to wear shorts to bed, I don't mind." He smiled, his cock already beginning to shake off the effects of its immersion.

"Well, if you don't mind..." Tim laid himself on the bed and rolled to face his wife. He began to nuzzle her neck while a hand went to her hip. "Loved your bikini," he breathed in her ear. 

She turned her head to face him. "You don't think it was too revealing?" 

"I like revealing," he murmured with a grin as his hand began to push up her t-shirt. No panties, he thought triumphantly. 

"Timothy Allen Nelson! Are you suggesting that it wouldn't bother you in the slightest if I paraded around in my birthday suit?" 

"Not in the slightest," he said and kissed her. "As a matter of fact, why don't you start the parade now?" Tim pushed her-shirt up suggestively. 

Gwen sighed theatrically, smiled, and broke their contact long enough to sit up and pull the shirt over her head before dropping it to the floor. "Better?" she asked as she again lay down.

Tim did his best to hide his surprise at the ease with which she had complied with this suggestion. "Perfect." 

Her hand quickly went to his nearly-erect member, caressing and teasing the length and the drawn-up sack below it. Tim wasted no time in finding her breast, glad not be hindered by the nightgown that normally covered it, before moving to her crotch. His fingers gliding over her skin told him something had changed. Breaking their kiss, he looked down to find her thatch trimmed back considerably, her covering sleek where it had been thick and curly. "Haircut?" he asked as his lips returned to hers while his fingers found their way to her sex. 

"I trimmed for the bikini," she explained. "Is it alright?" 

"I think it's great," he answered truthfully, "I just can't ever remember it that short."

They continued their explorations for quite a while longer, each taking their time with the other. His wife's dancing fingers finally took their toll on Tim, and he gently began to roll on top of her intent on spreading her legs and taking her. Her body resisted, however.

"Tim? Can I, uhh, ask a favor?"

He stopped short in surprise. "Sure?" 

"Can I use my hand to, umm, make you finish? I've never watched you...you know...before."

Tim hesitated, trying to make sure he understood what she was asking. Gwen took his delay as reluctance. "But if you'd rather not, I understand," she said rolling on to her back to accept him in the more traditional method. 

"No, this'll be fine," he quickly assured her as he lay back. "Just haven't done it this way in a long time, you know?" 

"Is it not as good as the other way?"

"I like it both ways. Variety is good, right?"

Gwen didn't answer, instead rolling on to her shoulder and peering down at the cudgel she was even now grasping. "Tell me if I'm doing it wrong, OK?" 

She began to stroke, tiny fingers barely wrapping around the circumference, fist sliding back and forth. She was fascinated with how the head turned an angry red while the hole seemed to mouth an O of protest as Tim's hips drove it through her clenched fist. 

The combination of her strokes, his thrusts, and the novelty of it all soon had the desired effect. With a hissing breath, Tim lunged forward while his hand captured his wife's, locking it in place just beneath the sensitive crown. Gwen felt the first pulse travel up his length before erupting, the speed and suddenness of its appearance making her head recoil a bit in fear of being in its path. She watched in amazement as the first milky white bolt landed high up his chest, feeling each subsequent blast travel up his shaft before jetting out and landing just short of the previous. Finally, the streams were reduced to pulses that ran down her fingers before her husband sighed contentedly and released her hand. 

"I never knew it was that powerful," Gwen said as she almost reluctantly let go of his staff. 

"You should see it after I've gone a few days without," he chuckled. "I've hit myself in the face before."

"Really? Didn't that gross you out?"

"Not really. You just want to make sure you don't get any in the eyes. That can sting." 

"Stay right there. I'll be right back," she commanded, and Tim was happy to watch as she hurried to the bathroom, tight cheeks swaying as she went, noting just how much hair she had removed as she returned with a warm washcloth. Carefully she cleaned him, gently wiping his softening cock and balls after she had cleaned his chest. Again she hurried to the bathroom, returning empty-handed to lie next to him.

"Did I do it right?" she asked as she nestled in next to him.

"That was incredible! Feel free to do that any time."

"As long as you like it...can I ask one more favor?" 

"How could I say no after that? Anything you want."

"Could you, you know, help me finish now?"

"Of course." He gently pushed her on to her back and bent to kiss her while his hand pushed her thighs apart and found her sex. His thick, callused middle finger ran up and down her slit once, twice, three times before burying itself inside her while his palm pressed against her clit. Tim began to stroke, the motion rubbing against her sensitive nub, while his head dipped and began to tongue her nipple. Her left hand found his bicep, instinctively squeezing this symbol of male strength as her long-awaited orgasm approached. Tim's touch was just right; all too soon her thighs clenched his hand while her hips wildly thrashed against him. The orgasm was long and powerful, her husband's long ropey strings of come flashing in her mind to the waves of her climax. Eventually her body went limp, and with a sigh, her legs released his hand. 

They lay there together for quite some time, both near sleep, but neither wanting to go there yet. Gwen wanted to get up, to clean herself, but she knew there was nothing to clean. Instead, she clung to the man she loved more than anything else in the world.

"Gwen?"

"Hmm?"

"If you don't want to wear a nightie to bed, I don't mind."

She giggled, buried her face deeper into his chest, and was soon asleep.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 05



(Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.) 

*

Gwen was up early, a repeat of the previous morning's activities out of the question as preparations for Sunday dinner were begun in earnest. An already spotless house was cleaned again in anticipation of their guests' arrival. It was not the size of the crowd—only four others besides she and Tim—but two of the attendees who made her triple-check her work. The visits from Gwen's mother and father, Norman and Irene Curran, always put her into high alert, wanting to make sure everything was perfect in their eyes, that no fault could be found. Occasionally, she succeeded. 

Gwen and Tim's oldest daughter and her husband, Alison and Jason, would be there also, and she took some comfort in that. Ali provided a buffer of sorts, and Irene would generally spend her time doting on her granddaughter while Norman regaled Jason with tales from the world of corporate law.

Tim arose shortly after his wife, softly padding into the living room to find her bent over the coffee table, arranging magazines and photo albums. He briefly considered flipping her robe up over her back to see if she had dressed before leaving their room, but instead chuckled to himself at the thought of his incredibly ill-advised idea and headed to the kitchen for coffee. Of course she was dressed. She was always dressed, last night notwithstanding. 

"Oh—good morning!" Gwen said as she hurried in behind him. "You can take care of the outside, right? I've got some more cleaning to do, and dinner to start."

"I always take care of the outside," he said with a patient smile. "And I can't see where any more cleaning has to be done."

"That's because you're a man," she replied as she kissed his cheek. "My mother will find what I missed." 

Tim grunted. You won't have missed it, he thought to himself, but she'll pretend to find it anyways. 

The couple worked steadily throughout the morning, only pausing long enough to take showers shortly before their guests arrived. Dinner went off without a hitch, Gwen's parents arriving exactly when they had said they would, and leaving precisely one hour after coffee had been served. Ali and Jason pitched into to help clean up before Gwen and her daughter retreated to the stables for a ride up the hill. Tim and Jason changed into swim trunks and, beer bottles in hand, made their way to the pool to await the return of their wives. 

The riders reappeared almost two hours later, caring for their mounts before making their way to the house to change into pool attire. Tim was disappointed to find Gwen had chosen her more modest black single piece suit, but said nothing. The mental image of last evening's bikini lingered. 

It was nearly dark when Alison and Jason said their goodbyes. Gwen and Tim spent a few precious moments together in front the TV, relaxing after their exhausting day off, neither saying much, just enjoying each other's presence. The stress and pace of the day as enough to send them off to bed by 9, Tim doing the final walk around the house while Gwen headed for the bedroom. He followed her in shortly after, his wife already under the covers, eyes closed, where he joined her soon after. The light was turned out, Tim noting with satisfaction she was wearing the t-shirt from the night before. Gwen rolled over and wrapped herself around her husband. Both knew it was not a night for sex; the exhaustion of the day was rapidly catching up with them. Still, Tim could not resist taking a small chance. 

"How come you didn't wear your other bathing suit tonight?"

He could feel his wife tense ever so slightly beside him. "A little small to be wearing around my daughter and son, don't you think? Ali would have been horrified."

"It was no smaller than what she was wearing."

"Yes, but I'm sure Jason has seen her in less." The thought of her handsome young son, also wearing less than what she had seen today, enflamed her as the Slut flung up the picture on the projector screen in her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as perverted. 

"Then he probably has a good idea of what you look like." Tim hugged her, and said no more. Despite her fatigue, sleep came slowly, the Slut always pushing mental images of Gwen in her daughter's place, a naked and erect Jason hovering over her while the Lady fought to take them down with further threats of mental illness

The dream returned that night. She was again chain and bound, her admirers in their positions, stroking their massive erections. It was not lost on her that their bulbous heads were turning the same bright red Tim's had the night before, their slits opening impossibly wide as they fisted their lengths.

Gwen jerked against her restraints as the first jet of pearl-white gel erupted from the cock of the younger man, traveling the many feet to her in a heartbeat to land squarely between her breasts. His next blast hit her squarely on the nipple as the platform turned and she struggled to get out of the line of fire, and a third struck her on the side of the breast. She awoke with a start, sweaty and breathing hard. 4am, she thought as she looked at the clock.

"You OK?" Tim's sleepy voice came from beside her. "it felt like you were fighting something."

"I'm fine," she assured, "just a dream." Gwen reached to turn back the covers, found that she had already kicked them off, and rose. "Go back to sleep." She reached for her bathrobe before deciding against the extra heat it would generate, her only cover the damp t-shirt she wore as she padded down the hallway. 

Gwen sat and sipped coffee as she reviewed the dream. It was still vivid, and she could still feel the force with which the man's orgasm had hit her. She was not even aware of her hand moving under the t-shirt and towards her panty-covered crotch, finger gently stroking a line dangerously close to the junction of her thigh and pelvis...

The sound of her husband's footsteps in the hall broke her reverie, hand jerking away from the heat between her legs and returning to her coffee cup. 

Tim kissed the top of her head and moved to the coffeemaker. "Seemed like a bad dream. Want to talk about it? Anything I can do to help?"

No," she lied, knowing what she really wanted was for him to take her back to bed, spread her legs and ride her until she climaxed. But to ask for that would mean that her dream was not a nightmare, but something else altogether. "I'll be fine." 

Tim and the crews had been gone an hour when Natalie pulled into the yard. Gwen, in a t-shirt and jeans, wryly thought how overdressed she was compared to her sister's short shorts and half t-shirt.

"Ready to go?" Natalie asked as she climbed the stairs to the back deck and hugged Gwen, hand vigorously rubbing the small of her back. "I don't feel a onesie under there—are you wearing a suit at all?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"Of course," Gwen replied, blushing. "I didn't think there was any place at the reservoir to change." 

"There's always the car, I've done that plenty of times," Natalie countered. "C'mon, let's go." 

She soon had the SUV on the highway, and the two women talked of mundane matters—families, jobs, horses. The previous day's dinner was of particular interest to Natalie, and Gwen found herself confessing more of her worries and fears about the event than she ever had to anybody. Something about her sister just made Gwen trust her, something she had experienced with so few humans in her life.

To Gwen, it seemed like only minutes before they were pulling into the Power Company Reservoir Beach parking lot. The beach itself was a sandy strand upstream from a large utility hydro-electric station and was a favorite spot for families and bored teenagers. The two women selected a patch of sand near where the beach met the lot; Natalie pulled two lawn chairs and an umbrella from the back of her truck and together they toted it all down to their chosen spot. 

Gwen sat in her chair and watched while Natalie pulled her t-shirt and shorts off to reveal a bright blue bikini, the top straining to hold her breasts in check while the bottoms revealed more of her cheeks than they covered. She unceremoniously plopped into her chair. "You're gonna get hot in those jeans," Natalie deadpanned from behind dark-lensed sunglasses. 

Gwen scanned the crowd nervously, looking for anybody she might know. Couples and mothers dotted the beach, while children played at the water's edge or beyond. Several teen boys skulked about, standing together in water up to their knees. The moment of truth had arrived. A bikini is no better than underwear, the Lady chirped. With a deep breath, she stood and pulled the t-shirt over her head, exposing her bikini-covered breasts and pale midriff to anyone who might care to look. Nervously she looked around for any reaction from the other beachgoers. Finding none, she unbuttoned the jeans and pushed them down, quickly kicking them off and sitting back down, looking for signs of shock or disapproval. Legs together and towel close at hand, she reached for her sunglasses, put them on and continued her reconnaissance. 

While Gwen could not say she was comfortable with being close to naked in a public place, she did begin to grow used to it, and eventually pulled a magazine out of her bag to read. Still, her posture was definitely intended to cover as much as possible while sitting in the low chair, continuing to scan the crowd in between turns of the pages. With each of her nervous sweeps, she found herself spending more time examining the college boys clustered in the water. They were handsome, no doubt, and seemed to exude a group self-confidence. Each time she returned to look at them, she wondered a little bit more what they might look like without those baggy shorts...the Lady clucked in disapproval at her discrete lust.

"I'm gonna take a swim—wanna come with me?" Natalie was already rising from her chair, looking down at her sister.

"No, thanks, I'll just stay here with the bags," Gwen demurred, unwilling to be seen walking around in next-to-nothing. 

"C'mon," Natalie insisted, grabbing her by the elbow. "Just stand in the water with me." Again Gwen scanned the crowd as they walked to the lake's edge, looking for signs of disapproval from the other beachgoers. 

The college boys seemed anything but disgusted as the pair approached the group. From behind her darkened lenses, she could see the young men examining her and her sister, and Gwen could just tell they were being mentally undressed. The lady howled in outrage at the perceived invasion of her modesty while the Slut was equally loud in her approval. Let 'em look—you still got it!

Gwen's cheeks burned as they passed the ogling males. Natalie stopped at the water's edge, bending at the waist to wet her lotion-slicked hands, pointing her barely-covered butt at the throng of young men. Gwen wondered if that was intentional. 

Natalie calmly handed her sunglasses to Gwen, took a few more steps forward, submerged, and swam out to the buoyed rope boundary. Her sister contented herself with walking in up to her thighs, careful not to get the revealing bikini wet and perhaps show more than she intended. The woman emerging from the water before her had no such worries. Natalie's wet skin glistened as she walked back towards their chairs, her top now plastered against her breasts like a second skin, highlighting her erect nipples, the bottom hinting at the lips they covered. Without a word she retrieved her glasses from her sister-in-law and paraded past the young men, not giving them a second glance as she strode up the beach. Gwen could see that all the boys were focused on the vision of femininity walking past them, a twinge of jealousy paining her as she knew she had been temporarily forgotten. She hurried past the gawkers and back to her chair. 

They sat for some time, exchanging small talk and occasionally reading, napping, or people watching. "Don't look, but I think you've got an admirer," Natalie said softly as Gwen was intently studied a chicken stew recipe in her magazine. She did resist the urge to bring her head up, but her eyes darted about behind her sunglasses, looking for Natalie's point of interest. The group of boys had thinned down by the water's edge, but one young man in particular, a bronze-skinned muscular youth with close-cropped black hair was unashamedly looking up the beach to where the two women sat. Gwen blushed and attempted to discretely cover herself without acknowledging his attention. 

"He's looking at you," she muttered, recipe now forgotten. "I'm just part of the background."

"At the very least, he's looking at us both, and his imagination is probably doing what young men's imaginations do. He's probably thinking about us doing him—or each other," she giggled. Want to have a little fun with the nice young man?"

"No," the Lady answered for Gwen. The Slut had the last word. "What kind of fun?"

"Keep pretending to read your magazine, but watch this," Natalie murmured as she turned a page in her medical journal. Slowly, her sister's drawn-up knees began to part, thighs gradually opening to the young man's stare. She took her time, moving them apart in stops and starts while she pretended to read, only stopping when there was enough space to accommodate a large man between them. Gwen's breathing grew shallow as her eyes flicked between her sister-in-law and her admirer, certain Natalie's bikini was insufficient to cover her treasures. 

Slowly, casually, the blonde reached between her legs and inserted a finger underneath the patch of fabric covering her sex to "make it sit correctly." Gwen watched the brazen display in amazement, quickly noting she had her admirer's complete attention. 

Adjustment completed, Natalie's hand left her crotch and made its way up to her face, grazing a breast as it passed. Deliberately, she touched the side of her glasses, pushed them down, and made eye contact with the youth. The young man's eyes grew wide with the knowledge he had been caught, and he quickly turned away, diving into the water and out of sight. 

"College boys," Natalie mused with a giggle. "So cocky, yet so easy to rattle."

Gwen was too shocked to reply, instead returning to her magazine with a vengeance. Natalie giggled again, then closed her legs and eyes. Her sister stared at the recipe page, but her mind raced to process what she had just seen. 

She managed to wait another hour, until they had called it a day and the SUV had pulled out onto the main road before turning to her sister. "Natalie, why did you do that?" she cried.

"Do what? I stopped before turning?" 

"You know what I mean! Why did you...show yourself...to that boy?" 

"I didn't show him anything," she smiled innocently. "I would have had to have taken my bottoms off to show him anything."

"But you were teasing him! You spread your legs! It looked like an invitation! What if he had taken you up on it?"

"We probably would have gotten arrested for having sex on a public beach," Natalie giggled, "but I wasn't going to let him take me up on it. I was curious to see if he would come up and try and talk me into it, though." 

"What if Adam found out you were doing that to strange men?"

"He knows. Just like I know he looks at other women. He's hard wired to do it. And I think, to some degree, all women are hard wired to make men want to look." 

"I've never once seen Tim look at another woman!"

"Then he's really good at not getting caught. If he's a guy, he looks." Natalie decided now was not the time to mention how she had been the object of her brother's attention more than once. She had not encouraged it or called him on it, but the meaning of his furtive stares was very clear to her. "It doesn't mean they'll do anything more than look, though."

"And Adam really doesn't mind if you expose yourself to other men?"

"I don't expose myself to other men—well, not really, I mean there have been a couple of times, more accidental than anything, but still...no, he doesn't mind. To tell you the truth, it turns him on."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Nope. Gwen, some men are insanely jealous with that type of thing, I know, but others...well, I guess they get a kick out of knowing their woman is attractive to other men. Who knows why? Maybe they're self-confident and know they're still top dog, but still find it a thrill to have something other men want. But enough about me and Adam. Did you do your homework and give your stud husband a handy?"

It took Gwen a second to realize that Natalie had changed the subject, and second more to translate what she was asking. "Oh, ummm, yes, yes I did."

"Good girl. Was he disappointed?"

Gwen chuckled. "No, he said he liked it a lot."

"Told ya. Sometimes you gotta change it up. How did YOU like it?"

"I liked it," Gwen admitted. "I liked seeing him enjoy it. A lot sure does come out, though." She quickly decided she had said too much. "I'm sorry Natalie, too much information."

"Don't be sorry," her sister laughed. "It's really not that much, either the information or their semen. A teaspoon or two, maybe. It does look like a lot more when you're the target, though."

It took Gwen another second to figure that one out. "You some mean men like to do that...on you?"

"Just about every man I've ever been with did. I think they see it like marking their territory."

"Even after they've been with someone a while?"

Natalie paused. "Gwen, how much do you really want to know about your brother?"

The question brought the woman in the passenger seat up short. She had never thought of him as a sexual being—she had never thought of anyone in her family as a sexual being, almost imagining she and her brothers and nieces and nephews had all appeared out of thin air. To think of him as having a private side...

"I'm alright with hearing whatever you want to tell me," Gwen said with more confidence than she felt. "I would imagine he is a lot like me, only with different parts. I mean, we were both were raised by the same parents."

"If you mean reserved and conventional, then you would have been right when we first met. But, I think I helped him relax his stance a bit..." Gwen looked over to see her sister watching the road and grinning. "If I say too much, just let me know and I'll stop. I really don't have any verbal brakes, so to speak—I tend to just say what's on my mind. If something I say bothers you or makes me uncomfortable, just let me know and I'll stop."

Her passenger nodded silently, and Natalie continued. "Adam still loves to give me facials." 

"You mean he likes to do your makeup?"

Natalie erupted in laughter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...you have so much to learn, young one...Gwen, a facial is when a man comes on your face."

Her sister's look turned to horror. "Really!? He likes that? YOU like that?"

Natalie continued to smile. "He loves it. I'm OK with it because he loves it. Doesn't do much for me, but as long as I keep my eyes closed, it's alright. It stings when you get it in your eye. I do tend to make it a special treat, rather than an everyday occasion, though."

The SUV fell silent, Gwen mentally running through the gymnastics necessary to bring a man's—her brother's—penis close enough to Natalie's face for the desired results. "Sorry if I gave you more than you wanted to know about Adam," Natalie offered quietly after several miles. 

"No, no, it's OK...I guess it's good I get the education..it's just I've never thought about him...and you...together...like that."

Natalie laughed. "Two kids, remember? And he's married to a woman who loves a good naked wrestling match?" 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 05



Gwen blushed at the reference and smiled back. "So, are you going to tell him what you did?" She asked, attempting to steer the conversation back to her sister. 

"The next time I need some attention, for sure," The smiling blonde replied. "Won't be tonight, though. He's got a dinner with clients. I'll probably have to take matters into my own hands, as long as the kids give me some alone time." 

Gwen knew exactly what her sister was referring to, but it took her longer to guess at the reason for her night's plans. "Are you saying it excited you to do that at the beach?" she asked, the answer dawning on her.

"Why would I do it otherwise? There's gotta be something in it for both parties, y'know.? It's kinda fun thinking I might be imagining him at the same time he's imagining me." Both women were quite for a moment.

"Did you tell Tim about your dressing room adventures last week?" 

Gwen continued to stare out at the road. "No, I'm really afraid he'll get mad."

"I'm pretty sure he won't. Just tell him about the first time—that was completely unplanned. See what he says. He's a very open-minded, even-tempered kind of guy." Natalie made the turn into the Nelsons' dirt driveway. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm glad you said yes."

"Me too," Gwen answered truthfully. "Hey, are you working Friday?"

"Uh-huh. Why?"

"Want to come over and ride before work?" 

"Sounds like a plan. 11?"

"11." The two women hugged across their seats, Gwen climbed out, and Natalie was off with a honk of the horn. 

She took a quick shower and changed into more conservative clothing before heading out to the workshop to check messages and catch up on paperwork. It was not long before the trucks started to roll in. Soon the boys were off, and she and Tim made their way to the house to make dinner. 

As was the norm this time of year, the couple made their way to the pool after the meal, sweet teas and towels in hand. Tim was very appreciative of the bikini his wife chose to wear, making his approval known with compliments, hugs and kisses. For her part, she did not push him away when he copped a feel of her fabric-covered derriere. 

The evening routine continued, some TV before Gwen retired to the bedroom to read, Tim following along shortly after. The book was put down, the light turned off, and she nestled into her husband's side.

"Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"There's something I should tell you..."

Her husband could tell by her tone it was serious. "Uh-oh. Did you forget to make the bank deposit?"

"No, nothing like that...I was shopping last week...you know, at Crandall's? Well, I was in the dressing room trying on a dress, and, well...the curtain was open a little—it was an accident, I swear—and, I, uhh, think a man saw me in there."

"A guy saw you naked?"

"No, not naked!" Gwen hurriedly countered. "I was wearing my underwear, but I'm pretty sure he saw it all." 

Tim chuckled and hugged her close. "Lucky guy. He didn't bother you after, did he?" he asked in a more menacing tone.

"No, no, nothing like that, it's just that, you know, another man saw me like that. You're not mad, are you?" 

Tim chuckled again. "Of course not. Like I said, lucky guy."

The two were silent for a moment. "Was he an older guy, or younger?"

Gwen thought about her second exposure, the one she had orchestrated, and decided that was not a topic for tonight. "Older."

"Well, I'm sure he has a very pleasant memory to treasure." He hugged her close and kissed her briefly, then again, with more passion. No more words were spoken as his hand found its way under her t-shirt to land on her panty-covered hip. It quickly glided up the turn of her waist as his kiss became more fervent, pushing the fabric up as it did so until her reached her uncovered breasts. His touch on her flesh was not rough, but it was more forceful than she could ever remember. Gwen reached to his midsection to find her husband's staff already fully erect underneath his boxers. She had just begun to slide her fingers under his shorts when he abruptly rolled away and on to his back, kicking off the covers as he went. Pointing his legs towards the ceiling, Tim hooked his thumbs under the waistband and pushed them off his hips, his manhood briefly catching on the fabric before freeing itself and hitting his stomach with a dull slap. 

Gwen watched in anticipation as Tim pushed the boxers up and off his legs while rolling to his knees in one fluid motion. There was no hesitation on his part as his hands discarded his own underwear and reached for hers, fingers yanking firmly as her panties were hooked and pulled down her legs, Gwen lifting her hips off the mattress to help their passage. Her husband pulled her leg to the side and moved into the space between her knees, looking down in the gloom to stare at the dark vee of hair atop the junction of her now spread thighs. Crouching over her like a predator stooping on its prey, his hips instinctively drove forward. Tim slowed himself as the tip of his weapon touched her sex, regretting the fact he had not taken more time to give his wife's passage some attention and a chance to lubricate. Slowly his shaft began to push past her lips. To his surprise, his length sank into her in one smooth stroke. 

His lovemaking was not the slow, patient build up Gwen had become accustomed to all these years. Instead, his pace and urgency reminded her of the days after they had first married. Still, this was different, she told herself. Back then, Tim had seemed youthful and inexperienced, almost like he was scared she might stop him if he didn't finish quickly. Tonight was something else. Her husband's efforts felt made her feel like she was being taken for his pleasure, that she was his plaything. Gwen found she relished the feeling. 

Tim didn't last long after his wife's legs came up and wrapped around his waist as if to draw him into her even more deeply. "Gonna-come-in-you," her husband murmured in Gwen's ear in cadence to his thrusts. 

She was shocked. The couple never spoke during sex; a soft groan or sigh was considered the ultimate vocal expression of their physical excitement. "I-want-you-to," she softly replied as her husband continued to hammer into her. 

With a final thrust, Tim held true to his word and buried himself deep. With the memory of Tim's hand-induced orgasm from several nights before her still fresh in her mind, Gwen's imagination conjured up images of his penis firing jet after jet of milky white spend deep into her womb, splattering against her like eggwhites thrown against a mixing bowl. 

Tim groaned and lay still, spent, doing his best not to crush the body beneath him. His wife's thighs and calves continued to grip the man between her legs, pelvis gently rocking in a vain effort to allow her clitoris to make contact with his pubic bone. He seemed to not take the hint, however, and reluctantly she dropped her legs to the mattress, allowing him to dismount. 

He moved to the side and collapsed beside her, satiated, while she rolled away, to head for the bathroom to clean herself. His hand flashed out and caught her by the hip, stopping her on her side, facing away from him. "Wait. Let me take care of you now." 

"Let me go clean up first," she asked, attempting to complete her roll off the bed. Still, his hand held her in place. "I'm kind of messy down there."

"I know," Tim chuckled. "I helped with that, remember?" The hand on her hip moved to the junction of her thighs. She again thought to protest, to move, but something held her there. His hand began to prod her open, and she relented with a groan, thankful she would not be facing him when he discovered exactly what she meant.

If Tim was at all squeamish about what awaited him, he showed no indication. His rough middle finger quickly found its way to her opening, pushing in and pulling back his spend to spread it upwards to her clit. Three more times the finger made its way into her, drawing out more of him each time before spreading it in her furrow. Gwen thought the application of the slippery coating wickedly sensual as his finger slid through their combined wetness. 

His finger dipped into her a fifth time and left her, only to land on her nipple a second later, spreading their mingled juices over and around her tingling nipple. She gasped at the feeling. Tim's hand returned to her crotch and continued to spread his seed, paying more and more attention to her love button. Gwen was only dimly aware of his flaccid member nestled between her cheeks, her hips rhythmically twitching against him. The rise to her orgasm was slow and delicious, her climax itself was comforting and welcomed. 

The both lay there for several moments, Tim nuzzling her neck and ear, before she rose and stumbled to the bathroom. Almost without thinking she stripped off her t-shirt and reached for the roll of toilet paper. Gwen stopped, the Slut giving her pause with an incredibly depraved and perverted suggestion. The naked woman eyed the closed door nervously, checking to make sure she was truly unobserved. A moment to think, another look at the door. Slowly her hand went to her crotch, her middle finger landing between her lips before sliding up inside her into until it could go no deeper. Only then did she withdraw it, glistening with the remains of her and Tim, bringing it to her mouth. She hesitated a moment before pushing it through her lips and on to her tongue like she was licking off cake batter. Gwen tasted the feminine bouquet she remembered from another time and place so long ago, but also for the first time the salty tang of her husband's seed. She knew this act should disgust her, but she also knew it did not. Her perverted curiosity satisfied, she returned to bed.

Tim was pleased to see she came back nude.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 06



(Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.)

Thank you to all who have written with feedback and story ideas. Writing is so much easier when the audience approves of the effort and has an interest in where the story is going.





The dream did not return that night and Gwen slept soundly, her husband's body wrapped around her own nude form. Still, she awoke several moments before the sound of alarm, more out of habit than distress, listening to the steady breathing of the man behind her. Gwen reveled in the feeling of warmth and security his body gave her, and she tried to wriggle even closer to him.

A sudden change in Tim's breathing announced his awakening a few minutes later. Gwen could hear her husband's pillow rustle as he turned to look at the clock, His body rolling away much to her regret, but only long enough for Tim to turn off the alarm before it sounded. He rolled back and captured her again, giving her a strong one-armed hug.

"Morning," he grumbled softly behind her neck. 

"Morning." Gwen hugged his draped arm closely against her body, flattening her breasts beneath it. The two lay there for another fifteen minutes, lightly dozing while enjoying the feel of each other, before Tim reluctantly flipped back the covers and rolled of his side of the bed. "Got that job over at the Urgent Care clinic today," he reminded her as he shuffled towards the shower. Gwen watched his firm butt ripple and sway across the room before he disappeared behind the bathroom wall and she rose to make breakfast. She thought briefly about just throwing on a robe over her naked body before deciding against it as too risky, donning her traditional nightgown and panties instead. She allowed herself one small breach of propriety and omitted a bra. 

After they had eaten, Tim made his way out to the shop while Gwen cleaned up the kitchen and headed for her own shower. The nightgown-clad woman carefully disrobed and turned to step under the hot spray before stopping short as she caught a glimpse of herself in the wall mirror. Turning back, she examined at her uncovered body, something she normally avoided doing any more than necessary, as she had always believed it to be a conceited act. What caught her attention was the vee of dark hair between her legs. Gwen gently touched the matted thatch, finding her husband's efforts the night before had left her coarse hair stiff and clumped with their dried secretions. The Lady was repelled at the thought, but Gwen smiled to herself, remembering how unconcerned Tim had seemed at touching her down there before she had made herself presentable, and how good his attention had felt. She also smiled at the sheer perversity of her actions once she had reached the bathroom after her climax. 

Gwen ran her fingers through the reminder for several minutes, ostensibly to "comb it out," before stepping into the stall. The folds of her sex got the same thorough attention the patch above it had received as the daydreaming woman thought of her husband's callused fingers, and soon she was working herself into self-induced resolution to the rapidly growing feelings of pleasure radiating through her body.

The Lady put a stop to it, brusquely reminded her Tim was waiting in the workshop, and the boys would be there any moment. Touching herself was wrong at any time, but with responsibilities waiting—no way! Reluctantly she pulled her hands away from her crotch and her mind away from her arousal, finished her shower, and joined her husband across the yard. 

The day was like any other after that, trucks dispatched, horses tended to, ordering done and invoices generated. It was nearly 3pm before she glanced in horror at the calendar that reminded her the Chamber of Commerce dinner was 5 days away. Despite all of her trips to the mall, she had still not found a dress! She resolved to go that night, after Tim had returned and been fed. The idea that there might be more people there after work crossed her mind as well...she made her way back to the house and selected the appropriate attire for her shopping trip with the idea she would leave right after dinner.

Walt was the first back that afternoon. Walt Phillips was nearing retirement and had been working for the company since before Tim and Gwen bought it from old Mr. McGilvary. If he had been upset that the business had been sold to that young man fresh out of trade school, he never showed it. Instead, he had been a solid and dependable employee all these years. "Evening, Gwen," he called out as he opened the truck door and extricated himself from behind the wheel. Tim often wondered in private how the man could get into some of the tight spaces necessary to work given that belly, but somehow the job always got done. 

"Hi Walt," she replied as Andrew, the big plumber's apprentice for the day, gingerly slid out of his side of the cab. Gwen quickly spotted his pained movement. "Andrew? Are you alright?"

"Andrew here learned a valuable lesson about the thermal retention properties of copper," Walt said with mock seriousness before the young man could answer. Gwen's confused look made him continue. "He leaned back against a live hot water line."

"Oh my goodness, Andrew, are you alright?" she asked, her motherly concern quickly taking center stage. "Let me see!" 

"I'm alright ma'am, really," he replied without much enthusiasm. 

Gwen didn't believe a word. "Take that shirt off, young man so I can see if you need a doctor," she commanded. Reluctantly, Andrew loosened his belt and removed the blue Nelson Plumbing t-shirt, gingerly pulling it over his shoulder blades. The anxious woman only had a moment to admire the well-sculpted hairless chest and abdominal muscles of the sandy-haired youth before gently grabbing an elbow and turning him so she could examine his back. 

A bright-red welt ran from halfway up one blade across to the other, only a small patch of unblemished skin breaking up the straight line. "No blistering yet," she said softly while taking a closer look. "You'll have to keep an eye on this, but I don't think you'll need to see a doctor—unless you want to, of course," she added quickly. 

"No, I'm fine, really ma'am," he replied as he turned back to her. "It just feels like a sunburn." Andrew moved to put his shirt back on, but Gwen stopped him. 

"DO NOT put that rag back on--that thing is filthy," she admonished. "Come with me. I've got some burn ointment and a clean shirt in the house. Walter, why didn't you call this in when it happened?"

"He didn't tell me it happened. I just noticed he moved quick, then a while later he was movin' funny. I didn't get the whole story out of him until we got in the truck and he couldn't sit back." 

"Well, for not noticing, you get to unload the truck on your own. Andrew, come with me." 

She didn't see the older man smiling as the two headed across the yard.

"Wait here," Gwen directed as they stepped into the kitchen. She made a beeline to where she kept the ointment—she knew exactly where it was, she knew exactly where everything was in her house—and returned, salve and wet washcloth in hand.

"Sorry in advance if this hurts," she murmured as the washcloth was applied to the red stripe. "I just want to clean this off first." Andrew said nothing, stoically accepting the gentle pats of the cool fabric. Gwen glanced down as she worked and caught her breath. The young man's work pants were a bit too big for him—why didn't I notice before, Gwen thought to herself, I would have gotten him something that fit better—and the lack of a shirt between the waistband and his skin formed a gap. A gap that showed that if he was wearing briefs, they were very brief indeed, as the top of his buttocks was very evident. Another might have laughed at the thought of genuine "plumber's crack", but Gwen was entranced at the sight. A curve of hairless skin ran down the small of his back and formed the tops of two muscular globes, the dark space of his crevasse separating them. She continued to stare while absentmindedly working the washcloth, only reluctantly admitting the burn was clean enough.

Gwen grabbed the ointment from the nearby counter. "This has Lidocaine in it—it should keep this from hurting for a little while." She squeezed an ample amount on to her fingertip and daintily applied it to the man's skin. He flinched at the touch, but said nothing and let her work. She again found herself glancing down while she worked the cream into the taut muscles of his back, the visual and physical stimulus building up something inside her. It took her several moments and nearly a quarter of the tube before she knew she had to stop.

"Better?" 

"Yes ma'am, thank you," Andrew replied, nervously holding his shirt in front of his waist. "I should, uhh, go help Walt." 

"Wait," Gwen told him. "You cannot wear that shirt. Give it to me—I know Tim's got some old clean ones in his closet—you can have one of those." She reached for the garment, but the young man seemed reluctant to give it up. 

"That's OK, this is fine."

"If you start to blister, that shirt will get them infected." She grabbed at the fabric and pulled, Andrew releasing it and turning away as she did so. It was only a glance, but did the front of his pants seem a little more...full...than normal? Gwen dismissed the thought and moved down the hall to their bedroom, returning moments later with the promised t-shirt.

Thanks, Mrs. Nelson, gotta go help Walt," he called over his shoulder as he shrugged the covering on and hurried out the door. Gwen looked out the window to see the other trucks had come back. She stayed in the kitchen a moment longer to collect herself. The feel of arousal was tinged with a panic caused by a thought that she had crossed a line, that by touching another man and enjoying it, no matter how innocent the touch had been intended, that she might have been unfaithful. The Lady nodded sagely while the Slut purred at the memory of that delightful butt. Gwen managed to shelve the debate for another time and went out to greet her husband. 

"I'm going to run down to town after we eat," she announced an hour later as they sat down at the table, "and try and find a dress for the Chamber of Commerce dinner this weekend." 

"I'll go with you," Tim volunteered as he reached for the pitcher of tea. "I was just going to put that compressor back together."

"Oh, uhh, that would be nice honey, but you don't have to," Gwen demurred. "I know you like clothes shopping less than I do."

"But I like you more than that compressor," he smiled. "So let's clean up and go." 

The Lady heaved a sigh of relief at the upheaval in plans while the Slut grumbled as the couple made their way to the other side of town. In truth, Gwen was somewhat thankful Tim had accompanied her—it removed any temptation she might have had for wicked mischief. And yet, she berated herself for the small part that did not appreciate his kindness, that was disappointed by his presence.

Tim was soon standing behind his wife as she flipped through the racks of semi-formal wear in Crandall's, humming to himself as she sought out the dress she had tried on last that first day. "That one looked nice," he said as she pushed a black number to the left. 

"What, this?" she asked as she reversed direction and took it off the rack for them both to see. "Tim, it's sleeveless and much too short." 

"I think you'd look great in it."

"When did you become a fashion expert?" she snorted. "Besides, I don't have a bra to go with this."

"So, get one that does. At least try it on." 

Gwen looked at him and could see he was serious, turning the possibility over in her head. "Alright," she sighed. "I'll prove that this is not the dress you're looking for." Tim bashfully followed her into the lingerie department, making it obvious he was with her rather than ogling ladies undergarments while she found a bra that might work. More sheer and less fabric than she would normally choose, she told herself, but it just seemed to match what she expected the dress to be. Garments in hand, she made her way to the dressing rooms, wondering what her audience might have been like had she been able to partake in her perversion.

She was both relieved and disappointed to find the seating area empty. Taking the number from the elderly lady behind the counter, she made her way towards the hallway she knew so well. Tim stopped her. "What chair did your peeper sit in?" he asked in a low voice. 

The question brought his wife up short. "Uhh, that one, I guess," she replied pointing behind Tim. 

Her husband leaned into her, as if to deliver a kiss on the cheek, but instead whispered, "If you use the same dressing room and leave the curtain like you did last week, I can check and see if he saw anything." 

Gwen drew back from him, shock written on her face. "What if someone sees me?" she hissed back. 

Tim smiled. "What if that someone's me?" He raised his eyebrows conspiratorially and nodded his head towards the cubicles. Gwen opened her mouth to protest, to tell him no way, but instead just rolled her eyes and followed his direction, turning back at the curtain to see if he was serious. Her husband sat in the chair, smiling back good-naturedly. With a sigh, she pushed into the cubicle, hung the dress and bra, and turned back to tend to the divider between her and the world. 

Inside her, a thrill was building. This night was turning out interesting after all, the Slut crowed! Showing off for her husband in a public place—the best of all worlds. A quick peek through the opening confirmed she could see Tim, and the change of his smile into a grin told her she was on display. She turned her back to him, as she had been with her other watchers. 

With shaking hands she unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it out of her jeans and slipping it off her shoulders before carefully hanging it. Bra or pants next? She decided to play it like she had before, freeing the belt and buttons, then pushing the denim down her legs. Gwen resisted the urge to look back at her husband, to gauge his reaction, and instead reached behind her back to unsnap the heavy white garment enveloping her breasts. Her hands trembled wildly as she hung it on a nearby peg. The fact it was Tim watching her made this a very different experience. Was he aroused? Was he disgusted? Was he even still there? The fantasy dictated she could not check.  

Gwen carefully seated her breasts in the bra she had selected, noting with sluttish satisfaction how the lacy fabric only obscured rather than hid her nipples, and how little the cups actually supported her. The dress was next, the thin straps and mid-thigh hem making her feel practically naked from the breasts up and sex down. She checked herself several times in the mirror, making sure what there was of the dress gave her at least some measure of cover, that bra straps were hidden under dress straps, that the plunging neckline did not plunge too low. Somewhat satisfied, she took a deep breath, turned, and slid the curtain all the way open. From her spot of refuge, she could see she had Tim's complete attention, his eyes wide, his head nodding vigorously, thumb up in approval. Gwen smiled and bashfully bowed her head before doing a slow turn for him. His reaction was the same when their eyes met again. She shrugged to show her acceptance of his desire and reached for the curtain to begin the process of changing back into wife and mother. A wicked thought raced through her mind. Leaving the drape open several more inches than when she had first entered the cubicle, Gwen looked at her husband for approval. It was apparent to her she had it, and she again allowed him a free look, taking a particularly long time to put her old bra back on after removing the new.

Gwen finally exited the dressing room after several more checks in the mirror for propriety. "Well?" she asked somewhat breathlessly. "Did it look alright?"

"Yes. Definitely." She was somewhat comforted by his apparent approval, but still she approached the cashier with reluctance. The couple walked back to the truck with her purchases, Tim talking as though what she had just done was the most common of occurrences. 

"I don't remember you ever having a pair of panties like that," he said casually as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Gwen blushed with embarrassment. She had put them on when she thought she was going alone and had not been able to change out of them after she found out she had an escort. "Natalie bought them for me when I was trying on bikinis."

"Tell Natalie I like her gift-giving style," Tim said quietly, a touch of humor in his voice. "When I first saw you in them tonight, I thought you didn't have anything on at all. Did she give you anything else?" 

"No, not really," Gwen answered. Unless you mean advice and homework, she thought to herself.

"Are they comfortable?"

"Hmm? Yes, they're OK, I guess." 

"You look great in them. We should have bought you some more while we were at the mall."

"Thank you," Gwen continued to blush. "Maybe next time."

The rest of the drive home was quiet, Gwen already wondering if her purchase had been made under the influence of the erotic situation she and Tim had created, and whether she would have the courage to wear the dress on Saturday night. It just seemed so brief...

She carefully laid the dress and bra over a kitchen chair when they entered the house. I won't put it away just yet, she told herself, I'll probably end up returning it tomorrow anyways...

Tim came up behind and wrapped his arms around her midsection. Gently kissing her neck, he murmured, "want to turn in a little early tonight?" 

Gwen was surprised to feel his hard length trapped between their bodies. What had gotten into him? The dressing room couldn't have had that much effect, could it have? "I think I'd like that." 

Her husband's hand found the button of her blouse just above her jeans and began to work it. He wasn't going to undress her here, was he? It was one thing to be seen in the bedroom, but the kitchen was a whole other story. Still, she let him work, deciding to lead him to more privacy if and when he threatened to expose anything that should remain hidden.

Tim's work cellphone, discarded on a nearby counter when he had walked through the door, came to life. "Damnit," he grumbled and released his hold on Gwen. While her husband was capable of using every known curse word known to the plumbing industry, around each other Gwen and Tim never used anything stronger than "damn" or "hell", and only in particularly stressful or disappointing situations.

"Nelson Plumbing, may I help you?" he answered in his best professional tone. "Yes ma'am, twenty-four hour service...how much water?...is the water still running?...no ma'am, I agree, it doesn't sound like this can wait until morning. What is your address ma'am, and I'll come right out." Tim began writing on a nearby notepad. "Yes ma'am, I'm leaving right now." He hung up the cellphone and turned to where Gwen was rebuttoning her blouse. "A Mrs. Olinski on Hart's Hill Road. Water on the laundry room floor and her husband's not home. Either a busted hose or bad water heater is my guess."

"Want me to call one of the boys and have them meet you there?" 

"No, I'm guessing it will either be a quick fix, or just shutting things off until we can get back in the morning." Tim disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared moments later, dressed in workpants and a company t-shirt. "Don't wait up." He kissed Gwen goodbye and headed out to the shop, taillights disappearing down the dirt driveway moments later. 

Gwen briefly thought about waiting up anyways, but knew from experience these late night calls were almost never as quick as Tim would have her believe. She set about locking up the house before making her way to the bedroom to change into one of her more traditional nightgowns. Anything less would have been out of the question without Tim in the house—she felt as if her choice of nightwear was a form of protection against intruders and things that went bump in the night. Her thong as replaced with a more modest pair of fullback panties. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 06



While sleep never came as easy with her husband away, it did come. The dream came, too. Again she was bound and again her admirers were stroking impossibly large penises. This time though, it was the older man whose ejaculation struck her first, arcing across the distance between he and her in slow motion. Gwen did not attempt to dodge the pearly white stream this time. Instead, she welcomed it, using what little range of movement she had to put her breasts into the path of the man's shot. The first blob landed squarely between her mounds while a second splat, courtesy of the young man behind her, landed below her bound hands and at the top of her buttocks, slowly trickling down between her cheeks. The older man smiled at her knowingly, as if she had revealed what kind of girl she really was. I am not that kind of girl, Gwen protested in her dream, and woke with a start. 

Her arousal and her protest followed her into consciousness. Gwen thought about getting up and waiting for Tim, but a check of the clock showed he had been gone a little over an hour. He could be home in ten minutes or two hours. She lay there for a while, considering her options and trying to bring herself under control. Natalie said dreams are just the brain's way of playing—they don't really mean anything, Gwen temporized. I'm not that kind of girl. I'm not.

"What if you were that kind of girl?" The slut asked. "At least, in your imagination," she added quickly. "Maybe not in real life, but when you're alone, with some time on your hands..." 

"It would still be wrong," the Lady argued. "And it might lead to worse things." 

The still fresh arousal helped sway Gwen's attention to her corseted conscience. "It would be like make-believe, and never when anyone else is around, just when you're alone...like now."

It's wrong to think about it at all, Gwen told herself, reacting to years of conditioning. And for the first time in a long, long while she was less than convincing to herself. A hand crept down to her inner thighs to smooth and caress while her mind began to play snippets of the still fresh dream, the images vivid as they popped in and out like a slide show. There she was, naked and chained. There was the potbellied man. And the young man. Too close to cheating, she told the mental slide operator. The image of her restrained changed into one of her kneeling, knees spread far apart while her hands remained behind her back. She recognized it as a scene from a movie she had once watched, only now she was the bound prisoner, and she wore no robes. Her admirers had changed as well, replaced by Tim. He stood on the platform right in front of her, naked as well, sliding his hand up and down his turgid member only inches from her face. 

The hand on her thighs demanded access higher up, and without thinking she slid her panties down and off, carelessly tossing them on to the floor. The nightgown would stay, though—her senses still had enough control to remind the aroused woman that she was home alone, after all. As a compromise, her left hand pushed the garment up to expose her flat stomach and caress her tingling skin while her right moved between her now-spread legs and up to their junction. The heel of her palm landed on her mons, exerting a delicious pressure while her middle finger curled under and slowly drew across her clitoris. Gwen gasped, her toes stiffening with the sensation. Circles around the nub were alternated with her finger sliding down her furrow and into her opening, reaching just far enough to push past the tight ring of muscle. Gwen found herself wishing for something more to fill her before long-buried memories began to rise from their lead coffins, and she instead concentrated on the pleasures she had at hand.

The snapshots changed to video as her husband stroked, a self-assured grin on his lips as he looked down at her. The images played at a furious rate, quick changes from Tim to her admirers being dismissed as too deviant for a married woman to use for her own pleasure. The thought of her husband performing for her, performing because of her, were sufficient to bring her to the edge. 

She knew what was next. Natalie's description of what made Adam happy meant that she must allow her own husband that incredibly perverted pleasure as well. After all, her chains did not give her any choice...with a final push down his length, Tim announced, "now you're mine," and unleashed his orgasm. Gwen marveled at the amount her husband unleashed. Rope after rope landed on her face, in her hair, on her breasts, miraculously missing her eyes wide-open in surprise. 

Faster and faster her finger circled her clit, the left hand coming down to take its spot in her hole. In her mind's theatre, Tim, Finally spent, sighed and pushed his hips forward, the slimy head poised less than an inch from Gwen's lips. She bent to kiss his offering, triggering her own explosion. 

Gwen thrashed wildly, finger pushed deep into herself while thighs locked around both hands. Wave after wave of ecstasy swept over her, each causing her muscles to contract and her body to roll from side to side. Finally, she returned to her senses, aware of her labored breathing and the ache of her trapped fingers. Her legs parted to allow her hands their freedom, and she collapsed, too spent to move for several moments. 

Her mind began to take stock of the situation. While she still felt some guilt over her actions, particularly with regards to the perverted scenes the Slut had conjured up as fuel for the sexual fire, her actions still seemed more acceptable than what she had done that day in the kitchen. She was in her own bedroom, no one to see her secret vice, no one to judge or condemn her. And still the world seemed to turn on its axis, seemingly no worse for wear for one woman's decision to take her pleasure into her own hands. 

The sweep of headlights across the wall told her Tim was back. She rose quickly, bending to pick up her underwear. Panties in hand, Gwen stood and thought, a smile on her face, a plan forming. Her husband came into the kitchen to find his wife waiting for him, robe wrapped tightly around her. The absence of nightgown or t-shirt around her neck made him wonder just what she had on underneath. 



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 07



(Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.) 

*

Tim's late return that night prevented him from finishing the conquest he had started in the kitchen hours before, and his short sleep and early departure the next morning made it necessary to wait until the next evening to take the edge off the lust that had been growing ever since he had watched his wife change in the dressing room. 

He was sure he had taken an incredible risk asking for last night's show; Tim knew that in the past, the result would have been stone-cold silence and a stare, at the very least. He also knew that something had changed in the past week, and while Gwen was still more prim and proper than the girls he had been with before her (especially Tammy Domillo, he thought with a smile), she had changed for the better starting about the time of her peeping Tom incident. Could it be she found the experience sexually exciting? And how did her sudden friendship with Natalie figure into all of this? 

If it gets me more lovin', who am I to question? Tim thought to himself as he tightened a fitting. He had often wished Gwen had been more experienced in the care and handling of the male of the species when they had married. Having a virgin in his marital bed had never been important to him; having someone experienced and comfortable with sex would have been the preferred choice. Still, there were so many other things he had loved about her then, and still loved about her now, that he had willingly entered this marriage knowing she would be a reluctant and inexperienced bed partner. While Tim did not consider himself that much more seasoned, his previous girlfriends had given him a taste, so to speak, of the ways a man and a woman could pleasure each other. He also firmly believed that between her upbringing and the experience Gwen did have had hurt more than helped. Despite his efforts, she had resisted exploring anything further than baby-making obligational sex.

And now she seemed to be loosening up a bit. Slowly, for sure, and Tim cautioned himself yet again not to rush her, but certain changes in and out of the bedroom told him things were a little different now. This knowledge made him confident he would be getting some tonight; maybe she would even let him change it up a little? What if he asked her to suck him?

Tim laughed out loud at the thought. Never happen, he chided himself. That is definitely not where the penis goes in Gwen's world. 

"I never knew pipefitting could be funny," Jordan said from the gloom behind the flashlight he held. 

Tim smiled. "Oh, pipework can be lots of fun."

The apprentice smiled to himself at the obviously unintended double entendre. Old people never seemed to understand how dirty their comments could sound. *** Gwen permitted herself the luxury of taking D'Artagnan up the hill for a short ride after seeing the trucks off that morning. She still felt some residual guilt over her self-pleasure from the night before, the Lady quietly grumbling that she should have waited for Tim before taking matters into her own hands. You deprived him of what is rightfully his, she scolded. It was late, and he was tired, Gwen reminded her alter-ego. That wouldn't have been fair. And besides, the Slut added, there's plenty more where that came from! 

The Lady continued on, ignoring her more wicked half. Ogling Andrew like you did—oh my! He's old enough to be your son! Yeah, but a nice ass, the Slut growled in response. Gwen did her best to shut them both out and help her mount pick his way through a rocky patch of trail.

She and Dart trotted to the barn an hour later, the other horses whinnying their greeting and disapproval with being left behind. Gwen knew the summer heat had already undone her morning shower as she unsaddled and groomed the Morgan before turning him out in the paddock. A swim might at least help the situation, she decided, and headed for the house. 

The one-piece was hung where it always was, and she did look at it before turning away to pull one of her bikinis from its hiding place deep in her unmentionables drawer. Brazenly she stripped where she was and pulled the suit on, bedroom door wide open for anyone to see, had there actually been someone else in the house. The traditional robe was left on its hanger, and Gwen Nelson walked from her house up to the pool wearing nothing more than three small pieces of fabric and some string. The thought one of the trucks might drive up at any moment made her want to break into a run, but she controlled herself, content to carry her folded towel as a means of cover should it be necessary. 

The cool water brought her body temperature down to manageable levels, but her lack of clothing made her arousal flare. Reluctantly, Gwen climbed out, only using the towel to briefly dry herself. She dallied, enjoying he feel of the hot sun on skin unaccustomed to such exposure, before retracing her steps back to the house. The wet suit was removed and she took her time selecting fresh clothes while she walked about her bedroom in the nude. Dressed and refreshed, she spent her day in the office over the shop, awaiting the return of her husband. 

The evening routine was observed that night, dinner, a swim (Gwen sporting the bikini she had worn earlier that day), TV and bed. Despite his need and her choice of swimwear intensifying his desire, Tim bide his time. 

Gwen made her move to the bedroom as the credits began to roll on their 8pm show. Tim was close behind, perfunctory checks on the shop and barn made from the kitchen window before retreating to their room. He opened the door in time to see his wife crawling into the bed, a pair of fullback white panties peeking out from underneath her now-customary t-shirt. Tim smiled and pulled off his shirt and gym shorts, dropping them in the hamper on the way to the bathroom. Teeth brushed, he returned a few moments later, his half-erect member bouncing as he walked to his side of the bed. 

"No shorts?" Gwen asked, the state of her husband's package hinting at what she hoped was next. 

"Nope. I got nothin' to hide." Tim flipped the covers back and left them there as he lay on the mattress. He leaned over and kissed his wife. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

He bent to kiss her again, this time more forcefully while his hand went under the sheets that still covered his wife and to her thigh, sliding across her cotton-covered mound on its way. Upwards it moved, caressing and teasing the flesh of her stomach, pleasantly surprised to find her braless as his hand continued its journey across her smooth skin. Tim encircled a mound of flesh, eventually teasing an already-erect nipple. 

Gwen made it clear she had every intention of welcoming her husband's advance, her hand finding his quickly-engorging manhood and encouraging it to its full length and width. She had never given much thought to her husband's penis, acknowledging it only as necessary for the sexual act, but lately, each view of it, each touch of it, sparked more interest in what he carried between his legs. It amazed her how quickly it could go from soft and dormant to solid and menacing, and all of the various sizes in between. The heat and the hardness, the sack below it...she found herself wishing she could examine it closely, in more detail. She resolved to work up the courage to do so some other time and instead satisfied herself by running her fingers across the bumps his veins made against the hardness underneath and delicately stroking the spongy head. In the past, the feel of Tim's precum spreading under her touch had been her own signal that he was ready to mount her; but now the way the way it made his skin slick and smooth fascinated her and made her delay sending the message to get on with it. 

She was wondering what it might feel like to spread his juices across her nipples when Tim's hand made its way underneath her panties and cupped her mound. A finger continued on down her slit, giving her a jolt as it slid across her button then continued on, finding her surprisingly wet. This normally would have been his signal to couple with her and finish their lovemaking the way married couples should, but each took their time, enjoying what they were doing and what was being done to them. It was the continued touch and stroke of his wife's delicate fingers that finally drove Tim to his next bold step. 

"Do you mind if we try something a little different tonight?" he murmured as he broke their kiss.

"Ummm, like what?" she replied, unsure exactly what different might entail. 

Tim sat up and back on his haunches, erection jutting upwards from between his thighs. "Well, first thing is to get you like I like you—completely naked." He did not wait for permission, hands reaching for her underwear and sliding them down her legs, casually discarding them after they had cleared her feet. His left knee lifted over her thighs as Gwen spread her legs to accommodate him, assuming her husband's next move would be to put himself inside her. 

Tim wasn't ready for that. Instead, the knee came forward until it lodged firmly against her sex while he reached for her t-shirt. Gwen sat up enough to help him pull it over her head, then lay back as he began to bathe her left nipple with his tongue. Her thighs instinctively squeezed together to lock his knee in place as her hips began to thrust and gyrate against the exquisite pressure that was being exerted on her clitoris. She looked down and past where Tim licked, kissed, and gently sucked her breasts, watching his shaft and testicles bob and dangle beneath him. Gwen was quite content to have him lavish his attention on her mounds while her hips ground against the immovable object between her legs and her climax began to rise. 

He finally straightened again and looked down on her, an uncertain smile on his face. Almost reluctantly her thighs opened to release his knee, hoping he would quickly get his body between them where she could again try and press herself against the bony mass above his erection. Instead, he removed his leg from between hers altogether. "So, how about you roll on to your tummy?" 

Gwen's mind raced. This opened up two possibilities as to what her husband was getting at—one that they had never explored before last week, and another that was out of the question! She knew some people did that, of course, but not upstanding married couples. Still, she turned over, treating his request as a command. She lay there, face in the pillow, legs together, breasts and arms squashed beneath her, waiting.

"And now get on your hands and knees." A feeling of vulnerability crept into her, stoking her arousal. She rose, knees still close together, arms locked together in a pushup. Gwen stared at the pillow below her, unwilling to look back. 

She could see out of the corner of her eye Tim shift position so he was now directly behind her. Gwen jumped a little when her husband's hand gently yet firmly landed above and behind her right knee and pushed out. "Spread your legs a little, honey." Again she complied, her most private parts now completely exposed. He could see everything, do anything he wanted. It was so humiliating, and so erotic. She shivered a little at the idea. 

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said softly. "Beautiful. So beautiful."

"I think you're looking at the wrong end," she joked weakly as she turned her head to risk a look behind her. She was shocked to see him staring at her backside, his hand stroking his length.

"Both ends are beautiful," Tim replied, never taking his eyes off her bottom. "And so is the part in between." He was fascinated by the sight before him, so rarely seen. The dark lips of her pussy, glistening with moisture, were parted ever so slightly and clearly visible through the thin layer of hair about them while above it, her puckered rosebud stood out proudly at the bottom of the valley between her separated cheeks. Tim could count the number of times on one hand he had ever seen Gwen's asshole, always in a bent-over-while changing kind of way; it had never been this open and available to him before. He wanted so much to run his fingers over the crinkled muscle, to tickle it, like Tammy Domillo had told him to do that one time, but he was pretty sure he had pushed Gwen to her limits today. 

Tim continued to take in the view for a moment more, risking a gentle stroking of her upturned cheek with his free hand, before shuffling forward a bit and placing his calves outside of hers. Gwen knew what was next, but still had concerns about which entry he intended to use. Her body tensed, prepared to drop and roll should her husband choose poorly...

The hand gripping his cock levered it down until it was parallel with its intended path. His pelvis pushed forward, cock head making tentative contact with her welcoming lips. Satisfied the angle was correct, both hands took his prize by the hips while he drove ahead. Tim did his best to resist the urge to slam forward and make it so rough as to make the act unpleasant for his wife, but Gwen was still shocked by the suddenness of those strong hands pulling her back into him until his hips met the backs of her thighs.

Tsk, tsk, if your mother could see you now, rutting like an animal, the Lady said reproachfully before realizing that she had overstepped her bounds by bringing the spectre of Irene Curran into the bedroom. The Lady stepped back, and Gwen's ardor diminished a bit at the thought of what others might think of her behavior. The Slut saw her opportunity and stepped forward. 

Like an animal? Damn right! He's on you like a stallion breeding a mare! He's taking what he wants, and as long as you give it to him, he'll keep coming back for more! He can have you any time or any way he wants!

Tim's pace was quickening, his attempts at a gentle introduction to this position for his wife abandoned as his hips and thighs slapped against hers while he attempted to drive himself deep into her. Gwen glanced left, into a mirror mounted above her dresser. Two naked bodies looked back, the woman's hanging breasts shaking and wobbling with each thrust while the man stared down with intensity where the bodies came apart and joined together again. Any ground her arousal might have lost with the Lady's admonishment was erased by the image in the mirror, and her climax again began to build. Her own body began to push back to meet his thrusts.

The softly-grunting man behind her finished first, his fingers digging reflexively into her hip bones as he tried to get all of himself deep into her womb. The force of his orgasm along with the depravity of the act triggered her own, somewhat muted compared to what she had given herself the day before, but well worth the effort nonetheless. Gwen's arms collapsed as her muscles lost their strength to the jolts of pleasure, hips sagging forward but remaining upright only because she was still impaled on the man behind her. Tim eased forward with her body as Gwen's head collapsed into the pillow, unwilling to remove himself from her just yet.

His last orgasmic convulsions passed and Tim finally pulled away from her, watching carefully as his glistening length slid back out between her lips, her opening only partially closing after his head had exited. Tim noted with satisfaction the remains of some of his deposit that lay at her entrance. 

Finally free of the supporting body behind her, Gwen gently collapsed onto the mattress, reveling in her post-orgasmic glow. "You OK?" Tim asked nervously, hand on her calf. "Was that alright?"

Gwen smiled, not bothering to open her eyes. "Wonderful." She lay there a moment before finally rejoining her husband in the there-and-now and looking up at him. "Did you like that?"

His worried look eased a bit. "I did." 

Gwen smiled again. "Good." She straightened and rolled to a sit on the edge of the bed, stood, and moved to the bathroom, viewing the red finger marks on her sides with a feeling of satisfaction and pride. The marks made her feel like she had been taken, and the thought thrilled her.

Sleep came fast and was peaceful that night. Gwen arose first, quietly moving to Tim's side of the bed to turn off the alarm before it sounded. The nude woman began gathering what her husband had so casually discarded the night before and headed for the bathroom. She was disappointed his fingermarks had faded, but the memory of them still made her smile. Looking at the t-shirt she held, Gwen smiled again and dropped it in the hamper before reaching for her robe. Breakfast was begun and the smile remained, the idea of what she wasn't wearing wickedly amusing to her.

Life was hectic the next few days. Several unexpected jobs had everyone starting early and finishing late, and Tim's exhaustion precluded any activities in the bedroom other than sleeping. For her part, Gwen successfully resisted any urges she might have had to "take matters into her own hands," the Lady reminding her that her husband took care of those types of matters quite nicely, thank you very much. She had also resisted the urge to return the dress and had moved it to her closet, reasoning that she still had some time to take it back.

Gwen looked forward to Friday, to riding with Natalie. Any excuse for a ride was a good one, and this newfound friendship was fulfilling a hole in her life she had never realized she had. The daughter of Norm and Irene Curran had observed her parents social circle closely while growing up and had come to understand early on that adults at this level of society viewed friends as assets and liabilities, allies and enemies, schmucks and schemers, and the roles could change very quickly. But as true confidantes? That was almost unheard of. She also learned that her own friends were the daughters of these adults, and they played by the same rules. Gwen had no stomach for the cruel politicking and backstabbing necessary for these games, and came to trust only her horse with her most private fears and confessions. Tim had been the first person, the only person, really, she had ever really trusted without question.

And now Natalie, she realized. It made sense in some weird way; Natalie didn't have that upper-class upbringing, that need to gain and maintain status and power. Despite Gwen's natural distrust of anything on two legs, she just had a warm, comfortable feeling about her sister. 

The horses were saddled and waiting when Natalie arrived, on time as usual. She wore the same outfit as the week before, Gwen noted, down to the pink jogbra, and she had to admit her sister pulled it off without looking slutty, even if it was a little more revealing than she would ever dare try.

Hugs were exchanged and soon they were softly clopping up the wooded path behind the house, neither riders nor horses anxious to move fast in the heat. The smell of warm pine needles filled the air, and cicadas called back and forth as the women talked, the topics nothing more than each would hear around the dinner table—children, the law firm, the plumbing business, the hospital. Gwen led the way up to the top of Beckett's Ridge, to the picnic table where they could sit while the horses rested and cooled. Tim had put the table up there when the children were just beginning to ride, and Gwen would lead them up the trail while their father followed along on his four-wheeler, a picnic lunch or dinner packed behind him. They would eat and relax, catching what breeze they could while enjoying the view and the peace. 

The horses were loosely tethered to nearby trees while Gwen and Natalie took seats across from each other on the wooden benches. "This 3 to 11 shift is killing mine and Adam's alone time," Natalie groaned after she finished a story about one of the doctors falling asleep in a patient's room. "He's asleep when I come home, and he's gone for work before I get up." She laughed. "If it weren't for my blue bunny and Mr. Majestic, I'd probably be at his office, stretched across his desk." Natalie could see a look of consternation cross Gwen's face. "Sorry," she added quickly, "I forget he's your brother."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 07



"No, it's not that," Gwen replied, although the thought of her brother and his wife together both excited and disturbed her. "What's a—what did you call them?—a 'blue bunny' and a 'Mr. Majestic?"

Natalie smiled. "My vibrator—well, one of them—and my dildo." She could see the look of understanding on her sister's face. "My roommates and I named our toys when we were in school together, and I guess I've never gotten out of the habit. I take it you don't name yours?"

"Oh, I don't have any...anything like that," Gwen said firmly.

"Oh," Natalie replied softly, a tone of sympathy in her voice. "They don't work for you?"

"No no, it's not that! It's just that I...don't think they're right...for me," she added quickly, not wishing to offend Natalie over of her choice of perversions. "And I just don't, y'know, do THAT," she lied, trying to ignore the memories of earlier in the week.

"You did last week," her sister reminded her with a smile. "Speaking of which," she said as she lowered her eyes and her voice, "do you still think you're crazy?" 

It took Gwen a moment to formulate her answer. "I guess not," she finally replied. "But I don't think it's normal, either, for me to think like that, or do those things...I'm my parent's daughter and my daughters' mother! What if they knew I was like that?"

"Hard to say with your parents," Natalie said thoughtfully. Every adult had their private side, and while her mother had hidden hers quite well, Gwen's father had revealed his. "But it's your life, not theirs. And frankly, please excuse me for saying this, but they are not the be-all end-all authorities on life, in my opinion. So as long as you and Tim aren't going at it on their couch, I doubt they would find out, and it's none of their business. As for your children, I'm willing to bet they're already doing the things you're afraid they're going to find out about. 

Look, nature made sex feel good so we want to reproduce. Science made it so we can reproduce when we want and still feel good when we don't. Society, not nature, made sex something to be hidden and ashamed of. I trust nature on this one, maybe you should too?"

Gwen nodded, apparently unconvinced, and continued to stare at the table in front of her. 

Natalie smiled. "So, did you tell Tim about your admirers at the mall?"

Gwen nodded again, unwilling to admit she had only told him about one. 

"And, was he upset?"

Her sister shook her head. "No, I guess not."

"Did he seem more...attentive...after you told him?"

Gwen's memory flashed back to his request for his own viewing, and her submission to him the next night. "Yes, I guess you could say that."

Natalie smiled triumphantly. "I told you! Your husband got all hot and bothered thinking about some guy looking at his piece of ass! So," she said in her best conspiratorial tone, "when and how are you gonna do it again?" 

"I'm not," Gwen said with a shy smile as she continued to look down at the pine boards. "It's wrong."

"Bullshit," Natalie laughed. "You like it, Tim likes it, whoever's seeing ya likes it, so if you do it, everybody wins. Maybe your husband might like to get in on it?" 

Really, I can't," Gwen demurred, but her tone was not one of resolve. "We should head back down," She said, changing the subject. "You don't want to be late for work." 

Natalie smiled, but said no more. The pair made their way back down the ridge, horses picking their way over the dirt trails until they were again in their paddock.

"Do you have time for a swim?" Gwen asked as she hefted her saddle onto its resting place on a nearby sawhorse. 

"I do." 

"And did you bring a suit?" Gwen asked with a mischievous smile.

"Well, I didn't think I needed one after last week." 

"You don't. I'll go over to the house and get some towels and meet you up at the pool?"

"Sounds like a plan."

The women set out across the yard, the absolute stillness of the air making their sweaty clothes stick uncomfortably to their skin. Gwen went to her bedroom and chose the bikini this time, as much for her sister's approval as the feeling of daring it created, then grabbed an extra pair of flip-flops in case Natalie had forgotten those as well. Her robe remained on its hook and she headed up the hill. 

Natalie's clothes were again hung on the fence, and the sound of splashing came from just up above. Gwen stopped at the gate and stared in amazement. Her sister was on her back, lazily kicking, her uncovered breasts flopping to either side of her chest while her equally bare sex peeked out between scissoring thighs. 

Natalie saw her sister's approach and stopped her motion, treading water while Gwen hurried inside the fence, quickly closing the chain-link gate as if someone might see the naked woman in her pool.

"Hope you don't mind," Natalie called out as Gwen did her best not to stare while she hurried to the table to set the towels down. "I figured since you saw all of me last week, and I hate wet underwear...if I'm freaking you out, I can put them on." 

"No, no," she said quickly, forcing herself to look at her sister. Despite the fact Natalie's treading kept just her head above water, the woman's nude form was obvious beneath the surface of the crystal-clear pool. She found herself wondering if breasts were buoyant—Natalie's certainly looked to be floating—and pushed the thought out of her mind. "You're fine. I'll put your towel right here by the ladder in case you need it quickly."

Natalie laughed. "Thanks, but I should be OK. I love that bikini. You look smokin' in it." 

Gwen blushed, feeling exposed, but also feeling what she had hoped for when she chose it. 

"Y'know," Natalie purred as she hooked her arms over the lip of the pool under where her sister stood, "it's just a small step from wearing that bikini to not wearing it." 

Gwen looked down for a moment, trying to comprehend exactly what Natalie was saying while staring down through the rippling water at the muscular buttocks just below. Her mouth opened with a gasp. "Are you suggesting I—take it off?!" The nude woman looked up, squinting, and smiled in reply. "I can't do that! What if someone comes?"

"You would have worn your old-lady suit if you thought that was likely," Natalie reasoned. "and besides, you'll hear them way before they can see you."

"No, I couldn't..."

"Gwen, haven't you ever skinny-dipped before? In your whole life?" The woman shook her head quickly, lowering herself into a sitting position on the pool edge, legs dangling in the cool water. "C'mon, you'll love it—it feels so good!" Natalie pushed away, towards the other side of the pool, Gwen admiring the nude form as it moved away. "How about just your top? C'mon, live a little, for me? My towel is right over there if you need to use it..." 

Gwen kicked her legs for a moment, looking around nervously. The Lady screamed her warnings, the Slut spoke in soothing tones. She confirmed with one more look what she already knew—that the workshop was not visible from here, so therefore she was not visible from the workshop—then quickly reached behind her back and pulled the knot. The strings slid apart cleanly and the garment hung from her neck, only gravity holding it in place across her breasts. She didn't dare to look at Natalie now, instead just reaching below her hair and pulling open the knot. Gwen caught the fabric as it fell away, flinging it to the pool desk while sliding into the water, out of sight, in one fluid motion. 

Her already erect nipples tightened further at the shock of the cool water hitting them. Gwen's head broke the surface, the nervous woman carefully keeping everything from the neck down below the water, listening intently for the sound of trucks pulling up the gravel driveway. She looked across the pool to see Natalie beaming. "Good girl!"

The two woman enjoyed the cooling water, Gwen alternating scans around the pool deck with looks down at her chest, fascinated with the sight of her pink areolae refracted by the sunlight and sparkling water, reveling in the depravity of her act. Naked, outdoors! She had to admit, it did feel good to have her breasts free from any sort of restraint. If they were bigger, she mused, she might answer the question as to whether they floated. They certainly seemed to.

Natalie casually used her arms to move along the opposite edge of the pool. "Oooh!" the large-breasted blonde cried suddenly. Gwen was quickly on alert, ready to spring for the nearby towels with the potential for danger. Natalie, however, was not focused on anything in particular, rather just hanging on the pool side, her body now hugging the wall. She stayed that way for several seconds before she reluctantly reversed position to face Gwen, her body contorting to press her bottom against the poolside . "KD told me about that." 

"Excuse me?" Gwen asked, still looking for signs they had been discovered.

"Oh nothing," Natalie replied. "Hey, did you know the outflow from your pool filter is at the right level to make you feel really good?" 

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"It's like a liquid vibrator, if you know what I mean," Natalie replied with a smirk. "Well, much as I would love to stay in all afternoon, preferably with a naked cabana boy bringing me drinks, I have to go tend to a floor full of patients and doctors." Natalie slowly walked up the stairs at the end of the pool and to her clothes. Gwen watched nervously, planning her exit as her sister unconcernedly collected her things. "Hey thanks for the flip-flops," she said, walking across the deck. "I'm gonna go down and get my stuff out of the car. You getting out?"

Gwen splashed up the stairs and grabbed the nearby towel, hurriedly wrapped it around her body after deciding the top would take too much time to retie. Natalie has already stepped through the gate, holding it open for her.

"You're going down to the car like that?" 

"Unless you think somebody might see me," her sister deadpanned. She turned and started down the hill, Gwen watching her full butt sway as only a woman's can. She in turn hurried down to the house and was content to meet Natalie in the kitchen. The naked woman breezed in, riding clothes disposed of, the bag over her shoulder her only covering and headed for the girls' bathroom. Gwen followed, her bedroom her destination, noting that her sister-in-law had not bothered to close her door. She looked back as she entered, and decided to leave her own door open. If Natalie's not worried about me seeing her naked, I guess I'm not worried about her, either. Still, there was a thrill that ran through her at the thought of being naked in the house with somebody else there, and she took her time dressing. 

Her sister was in the kitchen when she finished dressing, pouring two glasses of tea. "Could we ride next week?" she asked between gulps of her drink. 

Gwen was moved that she would actually ask to come over. "Of course," she replied simply. Moments later she was watching the small clouds of dust trailing Natalie's car down the driveway and she was alone in the house again, working hard to resist the urge to return to the bedroom and relive the pressure Nature had created.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 08



(Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is coincidental.) 

*

Tim's hectic work week and two beers after dinner were going to prevent her from getting the attention she had hoped for, Gwen thought ruefully as she looked over at the softly-snoring man in the recliner. 8pm, she noted. He would probably sleep there for another couple of hours before rousing himself enough to stumble off to bed. 

Shame on you, the Lady chided. Your poor husband has worked his behind off all week, and all you can think about is your own perverted gratification! 

No, his ass is still there, the Slut retorted, and a fine one it is. You know, you could sneak off to the bedroom and take care of yourself. He'll be out for a while yet.

Gwen shook her head. No, she really didn't want to take the chance he might walk in while she was fornicating with herself. With a smile of resignation, she turned down most of the lights, locked doors and made her way to bed to read, her only concession to her urges being the omission of underwear from her nighttime attire, in case Tim awoke and 'felt the need'. Her own light was off an hour later, and sleep followed shortly after. 

Tim did indeed make his way in, briefly awaking his wife despite his best efforts at stealth. The light from the bathroom helped confirm for Gwen that he had omitted shorts again, and she hoped this was a sign her husband was in the mood despite the flaccid length dangling between his legs. Instead, he slipped under the covers, kissed her cheek, mumbled a 'g'night', and was unconscious a moment later. Her frustration was not enough to prevent Tim's steady breathing and the hum of the central air conditioning from lulling her into joining him. 

The dream returned that night, or rather, another variant of the dream. She was on the revolving platform again, but she was now on her hands and knees, her chains replaced by a single leather lead looped about her neck, the loose end held by an unknown somebody behind her. Gwen knew she was not allowed to turn her head and look for who held the lead, instead, she held her pose and gazed out at a throng of naked men of all shapes, colors and sizes standing around the platform, pointing, comparing observations. The whole scene reminded her of the horse auctions she had attended, only now she was the mare up for bidding. 

Her unseen handler would occasionally push a riding crop into the side of her hanging breasts, making them jiggle for the amusement of the watching crowd. The baton would then be withdrawn only to tap on the inside of her thigh as a reminder to keep herself open for the prospective bidders. Leather-gloved hands pulled apart her buttocks much like someone would pull back a horse's lips for a better look at their teeth. For the woman on display, it was the ultimate humiliation.

And yet, Gwen felt a pride bordering on arrogance as she took in the admiring looks from the audience. She was obviously greatly valued, and she was sure bidding would be spirited. 

She was again tapped on the thigh, and Gwen concentrated on her form. Proper form is vital, she reminded herself. The baton retreated, only to announce its presence by with knobbed tip coming to rest against her labial lips. She welcomed it, and wondered whether it would be proper to push back and impale herself...

Gwen awoke with a start, the neck of her t-shirt ringed in sweat. Silently she rose and donned her robe before heading to the kitchen for a drink. "Well, that certainly was sick," she muttered as a glass was retrieved. Perhaps she had dismissed her fears of mental illness too quickly. 

The conflicted woman stood at the counter, lost in thought. Despite the chilled air of the house, her hair was matted to her forehead with sweat, her t-shirt clung uncomfortably, and her robe only made things worse. I need some air, she decided, and quietly unlocked the door and stepped onto the back deck, her mind too preoccupied with the meaning of her dream and it's threat to her mental stability to call attention to the fact she was venturing outside without underwear. 

It's much hotter out here, she thought as she stepped into the still, muggy night. The temperatures had not dropped much from the day; if anything, the oppressive humidity was worse without the sun to use as an excuse. Gwen turned to retreat back to the relative coolness of the house when the Slut stopped her. You could go for a swim, she suggested in her best reasonable voice. Get wet, then go back into the air conditioning. You'll be shivering in no time. Gwen dismissed the idea—getting changed into her suit might wake Tim and have him asking questions. 

Natalie didn't need a suit...and anyways, you were just about naked up there earlier, and that was in the daylight. Just go on up, get in, get out, no one will ever know. Without the day's events, and the dream, especially the dream, the Slut's suggestion would have been dismissed out of hand. Now, it didn't sound so implausible. Gwen walked down the deck stairs and up the hill as if someone else was in control of her legs. 

Solar-powered lamps expending the last of the energy they had captured in the day's sun lit her way up the hillock to the gate. Gwen knew there was a nearby switch to illuminate the pool deck, but decided the less light the better, and instead wished she could extinguish the single lamp glowing under the surface of the glass-like water. The sweating woman looked back at the house below. No lights on other than the motion sensor she had triggered on the deck, no movement anywhere she could see. She walked forward to the pool steps, out of sight of the house and the dim shape of the workshop beyond, stopping before the next step carried her over the edge and into the water. Don't do it! The Lady screamed. You'll get caught! The Slut knew she had to say nothing, just wait and smile. 

Gwen untied the robe and shrugged it off her shoulders, catching it before dropping it to the ground lest the extra distance it might have fallen would cause extra noise. Despite the total absence of a breeze, the night air felt cool against her sweat-slicked calves and knees, and she briefly wondered if removing the robe was enough. 

No, she decided, it's not. Her hands grasped the bottom of her shirt and pulled up before placing the garment on her discarded robe. She had done it! She was naked outside! The feel of the night air against her bare skin was electric. Despite the heat, her nipples were erect in a mixture of nerves, anticipation, and arousal. The urge to walk around the pool deck as she was, naked as the day she was born, swept her before the Lady reminded her in a sullen tone that she had come here to swim, and being in the water might help her avoid detection. Gwen smiled and heeded her plea. Stealthily she walked down the wide stairs, careful not to splash and give her presence away, luxuriating in the feel of the cool water against her bare skin until only her head was above water. She had only intended to get in long enough to get wet, but the nude woman lingered, slowly moving across the pool, one half of her brain watching and listening intently for somebody's approach while the other enjoyed the thrill of the moment and pondered pressing questions. How would she explain this to Tim if he found her? Would he be mad? And what the heck what that dream was about? It couldn't be the work of a sane mind. Obviously, she was slipping deeper and deeper into the clutches of perversion. 

Remembering the dream only caused her to revisit its still-vivid images. Her resolve weakened, and she surrendered to the depravity. Without thinking, she found herself hanging on the edge of the pool with one hand while the other crept down between her legs. Despite the water, she could feel the slickness of her own juices...

A swish of current to her left interrupted her erotic daydream. The pool filter, Gwen decided. What had Natalie said about it? The memory and the idea that she was now naked in the same spot her sister had been hours earlier thrilled her, and she arm-walked down the pool edge until the jet of water was a tickling sensation on the insides of her thighs. Wonder wha that would feel like higher up? the Slut suggested. Gwen knew she wanted to find out, too, and allowed herself to slip down into the pool a bit more, hands now gripping the concrete lip of the deck while her sex fell squarely in front of the filter's nozzle. 

The force of the water jet on her clitoris took her breath away. This is what made Natalie cry out! Gwen also realized it was what her body had been craving since lunch. Still, she pulled herself up, out of the stream, somewhat out of surprise at the intensity of the sensation, but more because she knew it was wrong. Gwen briefly considered making her way to the stairs as quickly as possible, to get out before she got caught, but the lure was too great. Slowly she lowered her body back into the water...

She was expecting the force of the jet this time, but it still made her grit her teeth in exquisite pleasure. Gwen's fingers gripped the pool edge so hard she thought she might break off concrete while her hips were flexing forward, then back, trying to regulate the flow of current over her nerve endings and through her lips. She lost track of time until her orgasm crashed over her, and Gwen briefly feared she might not have enough strength to cling to the side and would drown. Her arms and fingers convulsed and clenched with the shocks running through her body, locking her in place with her head above water. Eventually, as the sensory overload faded into an agreeable glow, she was able to swing herself out of the jet's path as the jet became too intense for her body. It was on rubbery legs that she finally managed to climb from the pool. 

The glow of her orgasm was replaced by the tang of panic as reality set in. How would she explain herself if Tim was awake and waiting for her? What if he had seen her...do that? A plan of desperation began to form. Reluctantly, she donned the robe, hoping the thick fabric would dry her skin without getting noticeably wet, and stuck the t-shirt underneath. Gwen quickly made her way back down the stairs and up to the deck, cursing the motion light as the sensor picked up her movement and announced her arrival on the desk to anyone who might be watching. Quietly she let herself in the kitchen, thankful she had not closed the wooden door behind her on the way out and had only the screen door to contend with. Still, it creaked and she silently cursed it, too. 

Gwen was relieved to find the kitchen empty. One hurdle down. Silently, she made her way back to the bedroom to hear Tim's steady breathing suggest he was asleep. The tiptoeing woman made her way to the bathroom where she carefully hung the robe to dry, toweled herself down, and put the sweat-dampened t-shirt back on.

I can't wear this, Gwen decided, and made her way to her dresser, where she retrieved a fresh Nelson Plumbing model after pulling the sweaty one off. 

"Everything alright?" Tim's sleep-thickened voice came from behind her. 

"Yes, everything's fine, go back to bed," she whispered without looking back. Gwen hurriedly pulled the new shirt over her head, but not before Tim got a good look at her nude back and ass. 

I'd like to fuck that, he thought, cock stirring at the sight, but fatigue overruled, and he was asleep by the time his wife returned to bed. The exhilaration of her secret mission and the orgasm that resulted from it overpowered any distress she might have had from the dream, and she slept soundly next to her husband.

Gwen awoke the next morning to the sound of metal on metal outside. Suddenly alert, she turned over to find Tim gone. Again panic washed over her in a nauseating wave. Had he found out about her escapades last night and was leaving her? Quickly she rose and ran for the kitchen just in time to see his truck, fishing boat in tow, headed down the driveway. The smell of coffee told her he had made it before leaving, a note beside the coffeemaker. 

Cliff and I are going fishing off of Martin's Landing. Be back before noon. Love you

Gwen breathed a small sigh of relief and her heart rate started to slow. Smiling to herself, she grabbed a coffee cup, poured, and sat at the table. She knew she was without robe or underwear, but didn't care. The memory of last night's actions thrilled her, and her discovery of the pool's water jet was the icing on the cake. She then remembered why she had been out there in the first place, and her smile faded. The dream...the dream had taken a deviant twist, one that she was not at all comfortable with. She was not property to be looked at, to be bought and sold, she reminded herself defiantly. I am not a whore! I'm a wife, mother, and a respected member of the community!

You're all of those, the Slut admitted, but maybe you're more? Dreams are for being what you want to be. 

The inner arguments raged throughout her morning chores, any lulls in the debate filled with the need to decide on the evening's attire. Time was running out, she knew. If she were to return the dress and get something more appropriate, now was the time. The dinner was tonight. 

Tim pulled back into the yard at ten minutes before 12. Smelling of gas and fish, he kissed her on the cheek and headed for the bathroom for a shower. Gwen followed, watching as he started the water and stripped down. 

"Tim, don't you think that dress I bought the other night is a little too revealing for tonight?" she asked from the doorway, nervously twirling her wedding band about her finger. "I mean, it is the Chamber of Commerce...all the local business leaders."

"All the local business leaders who feel obligated to go because their dues paid for the room and food," Tim corrected. "Honey, it looks great. I don't think it's out of place at all. I'm telling you, it'll be fine." He stepped away from the sink and moved to kiss her, his swinging penis rubbing just above her denim-covered crotch. 

The couple spent the afternoon doing chores, Tim needing to clean up again after his efforts around the barn. Gwen left the bathroom door open during her own shower in the hopes her husband might come in to find her in a state of complete undress and satisfy his male lusts, and indeed he was pleasantly surprised to find her nude, sorting out her attire for the evening, when he finally came back in. Long experience had taught him that an afternoon quickie was not something that happened in this house though, and instead he promised himself an attempt later that evening. He didn't notice her watching as he stripped for his second shower of the day. 

Mildly disappointed that she was not going to be taken in a most brutish manner, she began to dress while he rinsed the sweat off his body. Full back panties and racy bra in place, Gwen went to her dresser for a slip...and realized she had none short enough for this dress. Her mind ran through her options. Another dress? Possible. No slip? Out of the question. Something that one of her daughters left behind? Maybe. Gwen tried Alison's room first. She and her oldest daughter shared similar physiques—same chestnut-brown hair, height, breast, waist and hip size. KD took after her father's side of the family and while she was no taller than Gwen, she was a bit fuller-figured with a jet-black hair and a larger chest, much like her Grandma Carla. 

A frantic Gwen had no luck in Ali's room, and moved on. A look in KD's underwear drawer revealed a slip-like swatch of fabric stuck in the back. Her mother grabbed for the garment, somewhat annoyed her daughter would not have taken the time to hang it. Holding it in front of her, she realized she was wrong. This was no slip, this was lingerie, a black Teddy to be exact, piped with scarlet-red trim. Even as naïve as she was to such things, Gwen knew this was not for sleeping, this was to whet the appetite of a man. What was KD doing with this? 

She quickly threw the garment back in the drawer and continued her search. Nothing. Well, that was that, then. She'd have to wear one of her other dresses. Maybe not, the Slut reasoned. With your underwear and a pair of pantyhose, you'd have two layers between you and the world. She stood there for several moments, debating, thinking. Moving back to her own room, she found a pair of hose she considered acceptable—one thing that's gone right so far, she thought—and donned them before slipping the dress over her head.

"Wow." Gwen turned to see Tim standing at the bathroom door, towel wrapped about his waist. "Honey, you look great." She could tell he was not just being nice. 

"Thank you," she blushed. "But I don't think I can wear it. I don't have a slip that goes with it."

"Well, I see pantyhose...Gwendolyn Nelson, are you not wearing underwear?" His smile told her he was joking. 

"Stop that. Of course I am."

"Then you're fine." Her husband moved behind her and kissed her neck before moving on to his own preparations. Shoes, pearls and earrings were added to her outfit, and despite her misgivings, they were off. Even with the day's heat, Gwen made sure to bring along a sweater, "just in case". 

Tim watched with amusement as his wife was repeatedly told "how good she looked", or asked if she had "changed something", by the other dinner attendees, both men and women, while Gwen did her best to convince herself that there was no hidden insult or slur behind their words, and that they were only being nice. In truth, her husband had always felt badly about bringing her to these events. Her shyness and reservation around people, particularly women, was mistaken by many of his friends, counterparts, and their wives as a sure sign that her privileged upbringing somehow made her distant and aloof. Indeed, the man across the table from him now, Charlie Mortenson, had once confessed that his second wife Jean had dubbed Gwen "The Belle of The Ice Balls". He and Charlie had been friends a long time; he could remember the deep-voiced contractor asking him what the hell he saw in her shortly before their wedding day. 

"She acts like she's a stuck-up bitch, she don't put out...sure she's got a hot body, but what the hell good is it if ya can't get to her snatch?" Charlie had asked after a few too many beers. 

"She's not stuck up, just shy," was all Tim had said then. 

The drunken contractor snorted. "Well, I guess there's always hookers to keep your dick wet. 'Cuz she sure as hell ain't gonna."

Watching her do her best to make conversation with Ed Chicotte's wife about late-paying customers, Tim thought back to those early days. 

He had been working in the new barn construction up at Peachtree Stables, installing a drinking water feed while his boss, Mr. McGilvary, was at the other end of the building working out the details on the slurry drain still to be installed. The beautiful Spring afternoon had been interrupted by a commotion off to the young apprentice's left. Through the still-unfinished wall of the stable he could see out to a nearby riding ring where a huge jet-black horse had broken away from its groom, rope lead trailing behind him as he evaded the efforts of the yelling stable hands to bring him back under control. Suddenly, a woman clad in riding gear appeared at the fence and slipped her tiny figure in between the rails and into the ring. Tim could just barely hear her almost childlike voice calling out to the others to stay still. Slowly the woman approached the agitated animal, her calming words barely audible to Tim. She had gotten to within fifteen feet of the beast when it reared, apparently to strike this brave but impudent little human down. Tim grabbed a wrench and started to rise, ready to help rescue the obviously soon-to-be trampled woman. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 08



The figure held her ground in a pose of confidence and authority, arms loosely at her side, looking up at the massive body towering above her. With a powerful thud, the horse's front hooves landed only feet from the figure before him. Still, the tiny rider did not move or even flinch. The horse whinnied and snorted, but stayed motionless save for the violent tossing of his head. The woman waited a moment longer, then calmly closed the distance between them. Gently she took the animal's halter and reached up to pet the head above her. The pair stayed like this for several moments before the woman finally took the trailing rope and began to lead the compliant horse towards a gate that was being swung open. A stablehand approached, but she impatiently waved him away and escorted the beast back to his stall.

Tim was amazed and impressed by the rider's bravery and grace under pressure, and had to tell her so. Deciding he needed more PVC from the truck, he walked in the direction she had led the horse. The young apprentice finally found her exiting a nearby barn, and was immediately struck both by her delicate beauty and by the way she carried herself. He told her how impressed he had been by her courage, and while she politely thanked him in her high soft voice, he could tell she was either shy, nervous or both. She finally excused herself, smiling at him before dropping her head for just a second and turning back to the barn, and Tim knew he had to get to know her better. 

"Hey Clete, who was that woman that got that horse under control?" Tim asked an old hand who happened to be nearby. 

"Gwendolyn Curran, I think her name is. New riding instructor."

"You know if she's got a boyfriend?"

The white-bearded old man smiled. "I don't ever see men hanging around her, no," he allowed before lowering his voice. "Tell truth, I think she might be a Lezbo. Only person I ever see her around is her boss Miss Ritter, and everybody knows she's a rugmuncher. Shame, too—damn if they both ain't fine lookin' pieces of ass. 'Course, Miss Ritter's got the size and strength to break your dick in two if you didn't get her off, but it'd probably be a hell of a ride before she did." 

Tim thanked the old man for his warning and went back to work. Perhaps it was his youth, perhaps it was something else, but he knew he had to find out for sure. He'd ask her out, and if she said no, or her Amazon boss girlfriend beat his ass, this job would be over soon and he'd never see her again.

Gwen Curran's hesitance when he first asked warned him that perhaps Clete had been right, but she had finally said yes. They seemed to hit it off, to the point where requests for future dates were readily accepted with a giggle and a blush.

Her reluctance to advance into a physical relationship beyond hugs and kisses had made him wonder again if the old stable manager had her figured out, but the few times he had eventually made his way down her pants or up her skirt to find her wet and orgasmic, and the fact that she returned the favor on his very anxious cock, made the young man decide she was just scared and inexperienced. Hearing her stories of home and meeting her parents had only reinforced his belief that she had led a very sheltered, regimented life. When he had asked her to marry him, he was certain those were tears of joy she had shed. Of course, her confession later had cast doubt on his conviction, but her insistence that she had wanted to spend her life with him had been all the young man needed to hear. 

No, he thought as he delivered her third glass of wine, while the physical relationship had left something to be desired, she was everything else he could have hoped for in a wife. Tim smiled to himself as Gwen took a gulp from the new glass. She rarely ever drank liquor, knowing that alcohol could make her lose control, and she always wanted to be in control. While she was not dancing on tables, the fact that she was no longer hunched over in her chair trying to hide how little she thought she wore told him the drinks were having a positive effect. Who knew what the evening might bring once they got home?

The Nelsons left after dinner and the awards ceremony as the dance floor opened up. Despite her grace and body control, Gwen had never been an enthusiastic dancer, afraid that her movements would open her up for ridicule. While the wine had certainly inflamed an underlying temptation to "show off" in a safer, less obvious fashion tonight, the Lady forbid it. The Nelsons said their goodbyes and headed for the SUV and home.

"More wine?" Tim joked as he followed his wife through the kitchen door.

"Yes, please," she said with a smile as she put down her handbag. Tim raised his eyebrows, surprised she had called his bluff, and reached for the bottle before getting a beer from the refrigerator for himself. He poured and handed the glass to her with a mock bow. 

Gwen smiled, took a healthy sip and set the glass down before wrapping her arms around her husband's neck and kissing him. Tim happily returned the gesture, setting his own bottle down and pulling her close to him. "You looked beautiful tonight," he murmured. 

"You're drunk," she responded, and again found his lips. Tim decided to forego the reminder that he had been the designated driver as his hands found the zipper on her dress. She made no effort to move or stop him as he pulled it down until it stopped just above the waistband of her hose. Gwen broke their kiss, and Tim feared he had overstepped his bounds.

Instead, she reached for her glass. "Let's go to bed," she announced after she had taken another swallow, turning and walking away without waiting for his acknowledgement. Tim watched the sway of her hips as she left the room, accentuated by the open back of the dress. To hell with locking up, Tim decided, grabbing his beer and following her.

He reached the bedroom just steps behind her, watching with amusement while Gwen carefully stepped out of the dress, meticulously laying it on a nearby chair before pushing her pantyhose down over slightly unsteady legs. Once free of the nylons, she stood and made her way to the hamper, unhooking her bra and removing her panties before placing all in the bin. Satisfied, she retrieved her wineglass and took another swig, then marched back to the bed and crawled under the covers before looking at her husband with an air of impatience.

Tim laughed, took a pull from his bottle and the cue from his wife. Discarding his suit and underwear with far less care than his wife had disposed of her attire, he was quickly naked and sporting a respectable erection as he approached his side of the bed. Gwen flipped back the covers to reveal her nakedness and await his touch. 

They embraced, hands freely roaming over each other, eventually finding their way to the most sensitive areas. Tim's hand cupped his wife's sex, and Gwen fell back with a small whimper. Her husband's body was momentarily forgotten as his finger strummed and slid while a tongue gently bathed her nipple. Gwen just lay back and enjoyed the sensations. Tim continued his assault for a good ten minutes, never tiring or deciding it was time to "move on to the main event," just wanting to make Gwen feel good for as long as she wanted. 

In the end her orgasm overtook her, and she stiffened and curled up while locking Tim's hand in place with her own, thrusting against the finger buried inside her while her clitoris ground against his palm. Finally spent, she lay there in the fetal position, thighs opening enough for the trapped hand to be removed

"I could get used to that," she muttered, eyes closed, wine loosening her tongue.

"Used to what?" 

"You know,' Gwen answered, now a little self-conscious. "What I just did. What you just did." 

"We can do that any time you want," Tim said with a smile, gently stroking her side. 

Gwen's eyes opened and she pushed her husband on to his back. "Let me take care of you now." Tim wondered exactly that meant as she kissed him, then snuggled her body into his side, her head on his chest while her fingers traced delicate circles where his legs met his torso. The circles drew closer and closer to his manhood until a short fingernail drew a line from his sack and along the length to the sensitive head, where it turned a circle and retraced its path. Tim shivered and his cock jumped reflexively before settling back against his stomach. To Gwen, it reminded her of a snake warning an intruder off. She chose to ignore the warning and her finger continued to tease the serpent, alternating between her nail and fingertip, gently exploring the length just a couple of feet from her face.

Tim lay back in amazement as his wife gently prodded his balls to move them beneath their wrinkled covering, or push his weeping cudgel back and forth enough to test its tension before letting it snap back. Something was making her want to get a closer look at the object she had for so long thought was nothing more than a wife's obligation to satisfy. I've got to get to find out what's going on, her husband thought. Later. He lay back and let her play. 

Gwen moved her head further down her husband's stomach until she was resting on his navel, the flared pink head of his staff now only inches from her face. Tim held his breath, afraid to move. Was she actually going to use her mouth on him? The mere thought made him want to flex his hips and drive his cock towards the lips he knew were so close, but he resisted. The last thing he wanted to do know was scare her off. Instead, he gently caressed her back and ass, silently encouraging her to take that next step...

Her delicate hand wrapped around his length as she studied it, moving it from side to side, sliding up and down it to push the loose skin up towards the ridge below the mushroom. A clear bubble of fluid emerged from the snake's eye, and the fascinated woman stopped her stroking long enough to gently dip a finger into the droplet and spread it around the spongy head. 

Gwen moved her head again, now hovering just inches over the dusky-skinned length, admiring how the veins stood out more than she had ever realized, how Tim's penis seemed to curve up and a just a little to the right. His balls seemed massive from this angle, capable of producing gallons of seed. 

It was the scent that attracted her the most, however—an aroma of sweat, body wash, and most of all, male musk—that spurred her on. Gently, tentatively, her head came down until her lips made contact with the underside of his staff just below the crown. The snake jumped reflexively, dabbing pre-cum on her cheek and Gwen moved back a bit in surprise before making contact again. His penis was hot against her lips, hotter than she could have ever believed, and she was reminded of silk loosely wrapped around sun-warmed steel. She continued to kiss her way down the length, his pubic hair tickling her nose as she approached its base and his testicles below. The scent of her man continued to intoxicate her, but she was mildly surprised no taste was passing her lips. She had just always assumed that a man's penis would taste...dirty. Tentatively, she stuck the end of her tongue out just enough to make contact with the loose skin where his sac joined his staff, then slowly drew it up his length. Only near the ridge did she begin to detect a note of saltiness, but still, nothing that would make her retch, as she had always imagined. A kiss and tentative lick of his sensitive head revealed just how much like velvet the pink skin felt, and the fact that the liquid seeping out of him was the source of the saltiness. I'm doing it, she exulted. I'm licking my husband's penis! 

There's more than just your tongue, the Slut purred. No, I'm not ready for that, Gwen decided. I can't let him use my mouth like that. Only whores do that. She contented herself with more kissing and light licking, going so far as to gently tongue the wrinkled skin covering his testicles. 

Tim was in heaven and made sure Gwen understood just how appreciative he was, groaning and sighing in pleasure. He began to entertain the possibility that he might erupt while his cock was pushed past her lips and into her mouth, maybe with her pussy in his face? Way ahead of yourself, cowboy, he laughed to himself. Enjoy the moment. It took you all these years to get this far. His hips took on a mind of their own, lifting and flexing to bring her tongue to bear, perhaps with the vain hope she might take the hint and let him slide past her lips.

Despite Gwen's inexperience, her efforts were still enough to combine with the novelty of the situation to drive Tim close to orgasm. "Honey, I'm getting close," he offered, both to warn her that his orgasm might happen closer to her face than perhaps she had intended, or maybe even to allow it to happen. 

"Oh!" she squeaked, abruptly rolling away from him and on to her back, legs coming open so he might climb aboard. Tim chuckled at his foolishness in thinking that she might actually allow him to finish in any other way. Still, the fact his wife was naked and splayed gave him a sexual rush and an emotional charge. In what seemed like a heartbeat, she had progressed from marital relations in the dark and under the covers to...this.

Who knows where she'll be in a week, he thought to himself as her rolled between her knees. With practiced aim, his hips drove his cock forward and into her well-lubricated pussy, only stopping when the rest of his body made contact with hers. Gwen's legs came up behind his ass and drew him in, hips rocking in time to his thrusts. True to his word, his climax began to build to intolerable levels a few moments later. 

Gwen could feel his more urgent movements. "Tim, would you do me a favor?" 

Her husband stopped his motion and raised himself up from where his face was buried in her neck. "Uh, sure?"

She could not make eye contact with him, instead looking down where their lower bodies were pressed together. "Would you, umm, mind finishing outside of me?"

Tim tried to make light of the request, unsure where this was headed. "Honey, if you're worried about getting pregnant, I'm fixed, remember?" He smiled down at her. 

"No, it's not that, it's just that...well, I'd like to watch you...finish." 

Tim smiled. "For you, anything." Gently pulling himself from her warm tunnel, he rose to his knees, seeming to tower over her as his hand went to his length. Gwen stared at her husband's midsection as his right hand began to stroke while the left cupped and fondled his balls. Faster and faster the hand moved, the pink head turning red under the choking pressure. With a final push, the hand locked around his shaft and pushed down ever so lightly to aim his shot to remove any possibility the first bolt might reach Gwen's face—he remembered how displeased his first girlfriend had been to take an unexpected release squarely on the forehead—and grunted softly. A milky white stream erupted and seemed to hang in mid-air before landing on the side of his wife's left breast. 

Even though she had a better idea what to expect this time, Gwen still jumped a bit as the first eruption left her husband's staff. The sound of its wet splattering on her skin seemed surprisingly loud, and further jets painted their way down her midsection, his final dribbles falling into her verdant bush. She was surprised at the heat the little puddles generated on her skin, warm spots against the air-conditioning. Tim heaved a sigh as he shuddered through his last orgasmic tremors, then lay down beside her. 

Gwen smiled, still looking down at the semen trail on her body, even now beginning to liquefy into clear droplets. "You must really trust me to do that in front of me."

"Of course I trust you," Tim answered truthfully, "and I'm probably a bit of a show off, so don't think that was an effort for me. Maybe next time, you can give me a show?"

Gwen smiled noncommittally and rose quickly, heading for the bathroom. Tim cursed himself, damn it, pushed too far too fast. You know she thinks touching herself is wrong. 

He couldn't know that his suggestion was not at all the reason for her sudden departure. Once behind the closed door of the bathroom, she took one more look at herself in the mirror, admiring the wet streak that ran from breasts to her pubic vee. Turning from the sink, she dipped her finger in the largest pool, the one on her breast, and spread the slippery substance across her nipple. The feeling was physically pleasing and mentally outrageous, and her mind reveled in both. She continued this for several moments while her husband's spend began to dry. Reluctantly, she cleaned herself and returned to the bedroom without feeling the need for a nightie, cheerfully snuggling with her surprised husband. She fell asleep with his still damp cock nestled between her cheeks.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 09



A continuation of the previous night's activities was out of the question after the early morning phone call that gave Tim and Gwen exactly three hours advance notice of Katherine Deanna's impending arrival. 

Their youngest daughter had received the unexpected gift of some weekdays off from the resort in Gulf Shores she was working at during Summer Break, and a trip home to see family, horse, and friends was her choice on how to spend them. The excited college student was already on the road when she called with the news, sending her parents into panicked preparations, hurriedly stocking the refrigerator and making Sunday dinner plans for the entire family. 

Gwen's next three days were filled with KD's comings and goings interspersed with rides up the ridge line with both daughters. She was extremely happy to have things the way they had been when the girls were in high school, again able to lock away the feelings that had awoken over the past few weeks in favor of a return to active motherhood, even reverting to full nightgowns at bed time, much to Tim's chagrin. Sex was also on lockdown with the knowledge that her daughter was "in the next room". Of course, asking KD about the nightie in her dresser was just not possible, Gwen telling herself that she "didn't want to create tension in the house."

It was with a heavy heart that Gwen watched her daughter's little SUV pull out of the yard under darkening skies Thursday morning. She had promised at least one more visit before school started, and her mother intended to hold her to that promise. 

A steady rain had started by the time the last of the trucks had returned that evening. A swim was out of the question, and dinner and TV served as the Nelsons entertainment that night. Both were in bed by 9, Gwen switching back to her t-shirt in the hopes Tim might catch the hint and ravish her, but he was asleep soon after sliding under the covers. Gwen berated herself for reverting to her depraved thoughts so soon after her daughter's departure. 

The dream returned that night. She was again on her hands and knees, a leather collar about her neck with a lead trailing off behind her, held by someone she could not identify. Again the naked men were all about her, pointing and referring to pieces of paper they held in one hand while fondling their impossibly large packages with the other. She made sure to keep her legs apart as much as possible to afford them a view to her most private parts and encourage their self-pleasuring, but the riding crop poked and prodded anyways. 

"Folks, please direct your attention to the center ring," a deep voice boomed over a loudspeaker from somewhere in the darkness behind the ring of spectators. "Our next item up for bid is an older female in excellent health and physical shape. She's 44, very mild-mannered and trainable but ridden very sparingly—all the important parts are almost like new, I'd wager," the voice announced to scattered laughter. "Two children, so the plumbing works, but she's really only been used for selective breeding and farm work. Bidding starts at 7,000, do I have 7,000?" 

"10,000," came a woman's call from her left. She knew the voice without looking. Miss Else Ritter had placed a bid on her student.

Gwen awoke from the dream, heart pounding wildly. Revulsion and shame mixed with adrenaline and arousal. A quick glance at the clock showed 4am, and she knew she would be getting no more sleep that night. With a sigh, shaking hands reached for her robe and the tormented woman headed for the kitchen. 

Tim found her at the table when he arose at 6, sipping coffee and staring out the window at the driving rain. "Missing KD?"

"Uh-huh," she answered truthfully. If he chose to believe that was the reason for her early rising, all the better. 

"Maybe we can take a trip down there sometime in the next few weekends and surprise her," he offered as he kissed the top of her head.

"That'd be nice." 

Trucks were loaded under cover that morning, and Gwen was already worrying about her scheduled ride with Natalie later. The weather was definitely not cooperating; would they have to cancel? She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about the evolution of her twisted dreams and what they meant for her mental health, but she wanted the opportunity should she find the courage. She also just liked the idea of having a friend nearby, the novel concept of a trusted confidante comforting.

The phone rang. "Hey Gwen, it's Nat.". 

"Hi there," Gwen replied, trying to match the other woman's enthusiastic greeting.

"So, it doesn't seem like good riding weather today," she began. Gwen's heart sank at the prospect at what she knew was coming. "But I was thinking," her sister continued, "that maybe you'd like to come over here for lunch today. You've been so nice, letting me ride and use your pool, and it's probably my turn to host Girl's Day, anyways."

"I'd love to, if it's not too much trouble," Gwen answered quickly. 

"Great! C'mon down about 11. I really want to hear how the Chamber of Commerce dinner went, and I heard KD was in town." 

Gwen arrived 5 minutes early. Her brother's house was only 3 streets over from her parent's home, and while it didn't follow the same pattern of opulent overstatement the small mansions in this part of town were famous for, she had to admit it was a quite a bit more elegant than her own ranch house. Gwen laughed. Here was Natalie, living in a house she probably never could have dreamed of growing up, while Gwen lived in a home her parents definitely never imagined for their daughter. And yet, both women seemed happy with how their lives had taken each other's track. Natalie was standing at the door as Gwen came up the walk. 

"C'mon in," the blonde called as she opened the door. The women hugged and moved through the hallway to the kitchen. "Thought we'd eat in the sunroom," Natalie offered. "The dining room is just too damn formal."

"Where are the kids?"

"Annie's at work, and Tyler's at his friend's house playing video games. Just us to bust up the place.

The women chatted while they prepared the meal, a bottle of wine split between them while the rain pounded on the glass roof of the solarium beyond the breakfast bar. They ate a little, and talked a lot. Gwen was pouring her second glass when a brief image of being naked and on display flashed unbidden into her waking thoughts, the Slut laughing on her shoulder at the perverted memory, and she impulsively decided she had to ask her sister about the potential warning signs of the dream. "Natalie, can I ask you something?" 

"Of course."

Gwen's mouth opened, but now the troubling question stuck in her throat . Despite her worries, it was just too sick a dream to admit having. A wife and mother, leashed and on all fours like an animal? Absolutely disgusting! In a panic, knowing Natalie was waiting for something of importance, the struggling woman seized on an only slightly-less embarrassing topic. Nervously scanning the room for eavesdroppers, she kicked herself for saying anything in the first place as the words tumbled out. "How did you learn how to, umm, kiss a man...down there?" Gwen buried her face in her hands. "Gawd, I'm so sorry," she said in muffled tones, "that's such an inappropriate thing to ask your sister." 

Natalie laughed. "Asking me to spend the day at the Country Club alone with your mother is inappropriate. This, not so much." She spoke in a thoughtful tone, as though her mind was elsewhere. "I think the first couple of boys were just so happy to be having something—anything--done to their dicks that they probably wouldn't have complained if I had been leaving bite marks. So, I guess you can call them my practice dummies. Then there was one guy who liked to talk when I was blowing him, so I got some good direction there, and...well, my roommate gave me some tips, too." Her attention returned to the mortified woman across from her. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason..."

"Thinking of giving it a try?"

Gwen blushed. "Well, I kind of already did...I kissed Tim...the other night, and used my tongue too," she added hurriedly. "He seemed to like it, but I'm not sure if he was just being nice..."

Natalie laughed. "I don't think I ever met a man who would let you do that just to be nice. Did he get off?" 

Gwen initially thought that Natalie might be asking if Tim had been on top of her, but realized she meant something else. "He did," she volunteered, unwilling to share just how he had done so.

"What'd you think of the taste?" 

Gwen blushed furiously, now fully understanding her sister's line of questioning. "Oh God, no, I didn't let him...finish that way--I didn't even put him all the way in my mouth. You don't let men do that, do you?" She cringed at the boldness of her question, already guessing the answer and knowing that the only man that might be afforded that opportunity was Gwen's brother. 

"Sure, why not? Doesn't do much for me, but most guys act like you've given them a precious gift. It doesn't taste like much, maybe a little bleachy and salty, and the stuff they eat and drink can have an effect, too. Coffee makes it more bitter, fruit juice can make it sweeter." Gwen looked to the nearby refrigerator and thought of the three cartons of orange juice she knew were on the door, then averted her eyes. "Give it a try next time. I'll bet Tim goes nuts. If you don't want to swallow, spit it out in the sink or let it run right back down their cock. Most guys are appreciative of the fact you let them cum in your mouth whether you swallow or not. There's not nearly as much cum as it feels like when it's in your mouth...so, did he return the favor?" The confused look on Gwen's face made it clear she didn't understand. "Did he go down on you?"

"Oh no, I would never ask him to do that!"

"Why not? What's good for him is good for you. Some guys need some encouragement and coaching, but once they get a clue, it feels really, really good. Like, orgasm good."

"I know how good it feels," Gwen answered defensively. "It's just not right for a woman to ask a man to do that."

Natalie eyed her sister suspiciously. There was something more to that last comment... Finally, she rose. "Stay right there—I got something for ya," she called out as she left the room, only to reappear a moment later holding a cardboard box. Natalie gently put it in front of her sister-in-law. "For you."

"What is this?" Gwen cried with surprise, examining the box for clues.

"For you," Natalie repeated. "For opening up. I know how hard that was for you to talk about things, and I want you to know how honored I am that you trusted me enough to do that. It kinda validates me as a caring human being, y'know?" 

Gwen's eyes misted. "I should be thanking you for listening and not telling the whole world, or telling me I'm insane." 

"I think you are a product of your environment, and I think you've taken the first steps to changing what you are and aren't. Maybe this gift will help," Natalie said with a half-smile. "Open it."

Gwen used a nearby butter knife to slice open the cellophane tape holding the box flaps together before folding them back. On top of the protective packaging lay a small catalog from a company called Sensual Sensations, and although the cover design did not give any clue as to what may be inside, the name itself gave Gwen pause. Carefully she removed the paperwork and reached for the first foam-wrapped package, shooting Natalie a quick questioning glance. The only response she got was a raised eyebrow and a nod to return her attention to the package in her hand. Gently, she unrolled the wrapping from the long rectangular box.

The picture on the side showed a long white handle topped by a tennis-ball like powder blue dome. Gwen knew what it was.

"That's a Magic Wand," Natalie offered helpfully. "It's a kind of vibrator. Very powerful, probably because it's a plug-in rather than battery. If I want to rub one out quickly, that's my go to." 

"Oh, my," her sister replied as she nervously looked around for anyone who might have walked in unannounced. "Thank you." She delicately put the instrument on the table and reached for her glass of wine before taking the next item out of the cardboard container. It was smaller than the first box, but similarly shaped. Again she unrolled the foam, this time finding a picture on the packaging of a translucent blue phallic-shaped object. Small white ball bearings circled the ridge behind a stylized penis head at one end, and what looked to be a pair of rabbit ears projected from midway down the stalk. A white handle, complete with several slider controls, capped the other end.

"A rabbit," Natalie pronounced. "Just like my blue bunny. It vibrates, and those little white balls go round and round when you put it in you, and the rabbit ears line up with your clit. It's like the Swiss Army Knife of vibrators."

"Again, thank you," Gwen said, more than a little flustered. "But you really shouldn't have."

"There should be one more thing in there," Natalie said, ignoring her protests. 

Gwen reached in to retrieve the last item, surprised by its weight, already surmising what it might be based on how her fingers gripped the hard plastic shell that seemed to encase it. Removing it from the foam sleeve confirmed her suspicion, but she was still a little taken back at the size, girth and heft of the chocolate colored rubber penis and testicles she held in her hand. The object was incredibly large—as big as the penises she had imagined in her dreams—and Gwen wanted to doubt it could fit inside any normal woman, although she knew the truth.

"Your very own Mr. Majestic," Natalie said. "I wasn't sure if you were into the whole BBC thing, but I know Adam loves how mine contrasts with my skin." 

"The BBC?" Gwen asked, unaware that British TV was known for the weapon she held in her hands.

"Big Black Cock. Kind of a popular fantasy, especially down here in the South I'd bet. So big, so taboo..." her sister giggled. 

"Thank you, I really don't know what to say," Gwen stammered, gently putting the massive log back in the box before rising to hug her sister. "I'm really touched that you would go through all this effort for me."

"Fifteen minutes on a website is no effort at all," Natalie laughed. "And there should be a DVD in there as well to show you how to use and care for them." 

"Oh, I know all about that," Gwen quickly answered before snapping her mouth shut.

"How do you know?" Natalie asked slowly. "I thought you didn't have any toys of your own." 

The brunette turned pale, unable and unwilling to fabricate a lie to explain away her slip of the tongue, tears welling in her eyes. Natalie instantly regretted her line of questioning and rose to hug her. "Hey, I'm sorry, that wasn't fair. Never mind what I said. It's none of my business. You don't have to answer to me for anything." 

Gwen accepted the hug and returned it. "I don't have anything...like this," she sniffled while pointing at the box. A great urge to uncage the specter of a dirty, dark secret she had locked away all of these years swept over her. I don't know if we'll be able hide it away again, the Lady counseled ominously, but the distraught woman impulsively decided to take that risk. "Natalie, there is something I haven't told you, something I've never told anyone. Well, Tim knows a little, "she corrected, "but not the whole story. If I told you, would you promise not to tell anyone else, not even Adam?"

"You know anything you say is safe with me," she said gently as she soothed the sobbing woman. "But you don't need to talk about it if it's too painful. I understand and won't bring it up again."

"No, no, I want to get this off my chest—I need to finally tell someone. I've kept this a secret for so long. I want you to know how...why I think I might be the way I've been lately, why I think I'm mentally ill and need help." 

Natalie retrieved a box of tissues from the counter and set it on the table before sitting down and putting her hand over her sister's. "Take your time. You're not ill, you're human, even though sometimes I think you like to pretend you're not."

Gwen straightened and wiped her eyes and nose, then took a deep breath and a healthy gulp of wine. Looking into her glass, she began in a low tone.

"Natalie, I'm not sure how much Adam told you about what it was like growing up in our house. My parents had our lives pretty well planned out for us. John and Adam would become lawyers and join the firm, and me, well, I'm pretty sure what they had in mind for me was the all-girls private school they sent me to, followed by three years at my mother's alma mater getting a degree I would never use, then married off to one of the junior partners at the firm in some sort of political alliance to produce lawyer babies and continue the bloodline while I helped my mother plan her next big social event. 

Well, first John disappointed them by getting his degree and taking a position with that firm in Seattle, and then me...the summer after I graduated high school I saw a job opening posted at the riding stables I took lessons at. They were looking for a stablehand, so I applied without telling my parents and got the job. My mother and father were appalled when they found out! Imagine their daughter shoveling manure, what would their friends think, but they indulged my whim, probably thinking I would see how hard real work was and come crawling back home to get back in their good graces.

Natalie, I loved the job! It didn't pay much, but I was around horses all day, I had my own little room in the bunkhouse, and I had a car my father had given me to come home in when I came to my senses. I was independent for the first time in my life! 

Well, about a month after I started, I got promoted to Riding Instructor. The job came with more money and a tiny studio apartment that overlooked one of the indoor riding arenas. I was in heaven! Of course, I didn't tell my parents about my promotion—I was afraid they might make me leave, or make things so unpleasant for the folks who owned the stables that they would fire me. 

A week after I started teaching, my boss, Miss Ritter, was waiting for me after I had finished with a pre-teen dressage class. I was in awe of this woman! She was Austrian, I would guess in her mid-thirties, about 6 feet tall with long blonde hair that she wore in a tight braid, very formal with perfect posture and never a smile. The stablehands called her the 'Prussian Princess' and 'Nordic Nutcracker' behind her back. I think even the owners were afraid of her-- Miss Ritter had been on two Austrian National teams by the time she was my age, and was so highly thought of as an instructor and brought in so much income from private lessons with riders from around the world that they pretty much let her do whatever she wanted. 

She said, 'Miss Curran, your teaching skills are sufficient for little girls whose fathers have more money than sense, but you will need another level of expertise altogether to instruct those who know which end of a horse the bit belongs in. You will come to my apartment at 7 o'clock tonight to begin your training. As I'm sure you are aware, I despise tardiness.' She didn't even give me a chance to answer, just turned on her heel and strode off. I was stunned—I was going to get private instruction from one of the best riders in the world!

I ran from my last lesson to her apartment and got there one minute early. I heard her say 'enter!' as soon as I knocked. 

I opened the door and looked in. She had a very orderly one-bedroom apartment with a balcony that looked out on the riding ring and across to my apartment window at the other end of the building. Miss Ritter was sitting behind a desk off to my right. 'You are on time, a promising start,' she said without looking up from her paperwork. Her pen stopped moving and she looked up at me. 'But you stink, girl!' she said. 'A day with horses in this ungodly heat makes you offensive to my senses! You must bathe before we begin your lesson!' 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 09



I said, 'Yes ma'am,' and started to run back to my apartment.

'I do not wish to wait for you!' she yelled at me. 'You may use my shower. Be quick about it.'

I froze like a deer in the headlights, completely unable to make sense of what she was telling me. Miss Ritter got impatient and pointed at a door across the living room and returned to her paperwork while I hurried into her bathroom and closed the door behind me. I was in the shower before I had my first panic attack. I didn't have any clean clothes to change into! If I put my riding clothes back on, I was going to stink as badly coming out of the bathroom as I did going in! I decided I would try to explain the problem to her through the door, so I finished up and turned off the water. I slid the curtain open and got the shock of my life! Miss Ritter was standing there, holding a towel and a white robe. I screamed a little and tried to cover myself with one arm and grabbed for the shower curtain with the other hand. 

She sighed and talked to me like I was a child. 'Silly girl. Do you think I have never seen a naked woman before?' Miss Ritter held out the towel for me, which I grabbed for while she hung the robe on a hook, turned, and left. I got dried off as quickly as possible and decided the robe was better than nothing because at least it covered me from neck to ankles. I checked it three times to make sure it was closed tightly before I left the bathroom. 

I had some other surprises when I stepped into the living room. First, she had changed from her own riding clothes into a robe matching the one she had given me. I couldn't help but notice that where mine was long and seemed to completely cover me, hers came to mid-thigh and was almost scandalous in the way it hugged her body. I guess it made sense, since it was probably the same robe on two very different bodies.

Second, she had a glass of wine waiting for me. I had never had an alcoholic drink before, and to have her give me one made me feel very adult, almost like I was her co-worker rather than a silly eighteen-year old riding student. I tried to mimic her and took a sip when she did. I almost choked on it, but she didn't seem to notice and started talking.

'Miss Curran, you are gifted with horses, and therefore, not a complete waste of my time. However, you slouch and shuffle about as if you are a thief wishing to avoid detection. An accomplished rider rides with poise. Your head should be up, eyes forward, back straight. These traits should follow you off your mount. When you are walking, you are walking with purpose. You are a force to be reckoned with. Both human and beast can see you are in control of your situation and surroundings and will bend others to your will. Tonight we will begin to teach you how to make the world respect you, perhaps even fear you.' She took another sip of her wine, and I did the same. She came up to me, took my glass and set it down, then picked up a riding crop. 'Stand up straight,' she said. I did my best, stiffening like a board like I had seen soldiers do.

'You are not in the Army, you are an equestrienne! Let your arms hang free like you are at ease with the world, arch your back like it is beneath you!' I really tried to look relaxed and alert at the same time while she circled around me. 'Ach! I can see this will not be easy for you! Clothing can mask a lack of confidence and poise when dealing with the weak-minded, but those with the skill of observation can see right through the best-tailored jacket and breeches to the weakness underneath! Even beneath that much-too-big robe I can see your shoulders are slumping like a delinquent!' Miss Ritter stopped circling and faced me. 'As you can see, I appear confident while properly covered—' and then she reached for the sash of her robe, untied it, and pushed it off her shoulders so it fell to the floor—'or without. I could ride like this in front of twenty thousand people and they would all know I was in complete control.'

I looked down at the floor as soon as I saw her untie her sash, as much out of embarrassment for my situation as to give her privacy. 'Chin up!" she snapped at me. "Have you never seen a naked woman before?'

I told her, 'No ma'am, not really,' while trying to concentrate on a photo over her left shoulder. 

'I am no different than you, really," she said in a softer voice. Yeah, right, I thought. She was beautiful, like she was sculpted, with toned muscles and a huge chest and flawless skin, almost like she wasn't real. Even the hair between her legs was perfectly trimmed. Nothing like my short little body with freckles, bumps on my chest, and the tangled mess covering my privates. 

'Miss Curran, remove your robe.'

'Excuse me, ma'am?' I said as I looked back to her, and right away I knew she wasn't kidding.

'Miss Curran, remove your robe,' she said in a voice that made it clear she wasn't going to ask again. 'You will practice your posture without the benefit of anything to hide behind.'

Natalie, I was scared to death! I so wanted to run out of that room and never come back, but I knew how much I wanted that job, how much I didn't want to run back to my parents and how I didn't want to act like a scared little girl in front of this woman! 

I only had a second to convince myself that this was my boss and I had to do what she said, that it wasn't my choice to make, it was hers. So, I untied the robe and let it drop. I must have been trying to cover myself because she yelled at me to straighten up and maintain my form.

'Excellent, you take direction. A good trait for a student to have, and one you should expect in those you teach. An air of authority will serve you well.'

I know I was shaking when she gave me back my wineglass. "Hold this. Do not spill any. Drink it if you wish, but I expect you to maintain your composure and bearing." And then she started to walk around me again. All of the sudden, her riding crop pushed into my...into the left side of my bum. I jumped, and some of my wine spilled. 'I told you not to spill any,' she growled at me. 'You will clean that later.' The riding crop came down harder across my bum this time, hard enough I could hear and feel the slap. I jumped again, more from surprise than pain, and I spilled some more of my wine. I decided right then that the best defense would be to start drinking and take the level down. 

'You spilled again. Composure and bearing must be maintained even through physical and mental discomfort.' She slapped the crop against my bum again, but this time I was more ready for it. It still hurt a little, though. 'Better. Chin up,' she told me and she tapped me below my jaw. 'Your flanks are firm, and I can see from your muscle tone you use your legs wisely while in the saddle. That is good. You are not pigeon-toed or bowlegged, also good—that should only be seen in cowboys, not accomplished riders. Of course, boys like their women to come with legs already spread...do you have a boy that would rather have you with legs spread, Miss Curran?' 

I told her no, and she seemed pleased. 'Good. They are unnecessary distractions with all sorts of disgusting habits.' She kept circling me, looking me up and down like I was a horse she was examining for show ring disqualifications."

The memory made Gwen's dream flash again into her head, making her reel a bit at the association before she pushed it out and keep going. The story was painful to recall, but still necessary to tell. 

"She put her riding crop under my...under both of my breasts and pushed up. I was more ready this time, and didn't flinch, even though I was shocked she would touch me there. 'Your breasts are well-suited for the show ring,' she told me. 'Just the right size for hiding under a morning coat. Many judges tend to find riders who bounce their way all over the ring distracting and unappealing. I myself have to use an athletic bandage to keep everything in place.' I know it's weird Natalie, but I felt proud, like I had earned that compliment, like I was a proper lady who didn't flaunt her body. She continued to inspect me, then refilled our wineglasses. I gulped it down again to keep from spilling, not choking too much, and the courage I was beginning to get from the alcohol was very much needed. After she returned the bottle to the counter, she went back to her desk and sat behind it, ramrod-straight as ever. 'Walk about the room until I tell you to stop.' I did as she said even though I was mortified to be showing myself that way. Miss Ritter continued to issue corrections as I moved, having me turn one way, then the other. I really felt like I was being worked out on a longe line. She must have had me walk around like that for half an hour before she made get on my hands and knees and clean up what I spilled. After I was done, she told me to sit opposite her at her desk. I felt so foolish, doing my best to imitate her posture by sticking my chest out at her.

'An acceptable start,' she told me. 'You may not be a hopeless case. I see you taught four lessons today; which do you feel was more tiring—those, or your own lesson tonight?'

My own, I told her.

'I am not surprised. I removed you from your element, your place of safety. That in itself takes much stamina. In turn, it most likely lessens your will to question, to resist. Do not forget that when working with others, both equine and human.

You are needlessly shy, which does nothing for your air of confidence. When you project authority no matter the situation, whether you have just been thrown by your mount, or berated by a judge, or are naked in front of me, you will have successfully learned what I am teaching you now.' She paused for a moment to let it sink in while I took another gulp of wine. It was going down a lot easier now. 

'In addition to poise under pressure and pain, one must exhibit control in times of great mental and physical joy. To show great pleasure in these times opens the door to potential weaknesses that may be exploited by others later. For instance, one should not show their pleasure in defeating those who compete against you. Rather, you must make it appear as if it were the expected outcome. This in turn, may make them question if you are correct.

Controlling one's reactions to great physical pleasure can be difficult, but still, it is one I believe should be practiced in order to all forms of pleasure easier to mask and therefore exploit. I will demonstrate. Please follow me, Miss Curran.'

She stood up and walked over to an open doorway, never bothering to check if I was following. I guess she just assumed I would. I walked in behind her and saw that she had led me to her bedroom. I almost started to hyperventilate! I told myself I had no idea what she intended to do, but I think I really did. She told me to stand at the end of the bed where she could observe my posture, and then opened up the drawer on her nightstand, took something out, and sat on the bed. I couldn't believe my eyes when she lay down and opened her legs right in front of me!

I knew I shouldn't be looking, but I had really never taken a good look at myself down there, much less another woman, and I guess I was a little curious. Since the rest of her body was perfect, I guessed her privates were perfect, too, and I wanted to know what that looked like. Her hair was blonde down there as well, and it made her...parts...very easy to see. It all looked so foreign, so scary...but I was fascinated with what was between her legs, and even more so that my boss seemed to be perfectly at ease with me seeing her that way.

She turned a knob on the end of the thing she had taken out of the drawer, and it began to buzz. A vibrator! I had heard about them in school of course, the other girls talking about them like they were great boyfriend substitutes, but I had never actually seen one. 

She put it at the top of her privates and pressed it down a little, then pushed a finger from her other hand into the lips where I guessed her opening was. She did this for a while, one hand moving the vibrator around while the other hand was busy below it. Her hips were thrusting in and out, but she never made a sound. Finally, she pressed the vibrator down really hard and her finger disappeared all the way inside her, and she seemed to shudder a little, like she was cold. Then she just turned off the vibrator, opened her eyes and looked up at me, not even bothering to close her legs. 

'As you can see Miss Curran, even in a time of great physical pleasure, I maintain control. No thrashing about, no senseless wailing. And yet, the result is every bit as satisfying. My body is relaxed, and my mind is clear.' And then she got up, as balanced and poised as though she had just dismounted from a circuit around the ring, and handed me the vibrator.

I'm sure I took it from her like it was something dangerous. I knew what it was for, and where it had just been. Even the way I was holding it, I could feel how hot it was! 

'Now you, Miss Curran. I would like to see how much control you have in the same situation.'

I froze. I couldn't say no, I didn't want to say no, but I had absolutely no experience with what she was telling me to do. 

'You know I expect you to promptly follow my directions, Miss Curran.' She told me.

'Yes Miss Ritter, it's just that I've never...had...used...one of these before.' I held it out to her like it was a very expensive and complicated tool.

She grabbed it back from me. 'Then just use your fingers, Miss Curran! I'm sure you know how to do that?'

I shook my head no, trying to keep my chin up while avoiding eye contact with her. 

'I find it hard to believe you have not pleasured yourself before! This cannot be true!' 

'No ma'am, I haven't.'

'I'm sure the boys you have rutted with did not give you any satisfaction, am I correct?'

I told her I had never been with a boy.

'If you are telling the truth, then I admire your self-control. However, an orgasm is an excellent practice tool, and is beneficial as a reward for good behavior. Lay on the bed.'

I did, a little afraid of what I knew might be coming next." Gwen stopped, afraid to say what she was thinking. Finally, she continued. "And I have to admit, a little excited.

'Spread your legs,' she told me. 'I expect you to focus on the task at hand—I do not wish you to be here all night.'

My face must have been beet red, but I did it—I exposed myself to her. Only my doctor had ever seen me like that, and I decided he didn't count because he was behind that sheet where I couldn't see him and therefore wasn't real. I just closed my eyes, unable to put my hand...down there...and then I felt the bed sag between my knees. I looked down, and there she was—looking very business-like, kneeling, turning on the vibrator. She walked forward a bit until her knees were touching my thighs, and then she...she ran her finger up me. She did that for a few minutes, making sure I was lubricated, I guess, and then put the vibrator on me. I jumped, but her own body made it so I really couldn't go anywhere.

'Control yourself,' she reminded me, and I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on my actions, but the feelings I was getting from down there was very distracting. I did manage to just accept her finger when she pushed it in me. It was all I could do to not make noise, and I knew my hips were starting to move, but I remembered hers had too, and I hoped it was alright.

I was starting to get close to--you know—my release and I was starting to worry about whether I would be able to control myself. There were a few times I had pressed my crotch into the saddle horn when I was riding, and I knew how weak that made me, and I already felt a lot better than that. 

All of the sudden she stopped and I could feel her backing away from me. I was afraid I had done something wrong and I opened my eyes again, ready to apologize, but she was on her stomach, her face right in front of my...of my privates. Her hands came up to my chest, and her tongue went up between into my crotch and the tip licked my clitoris! She was using her mouth on me! I was shocked and a little grossed out, but it felt so good! Well, it didn't take long for me to finish. I did my best to stay composed, but I had never felt that good before—it was a little scary, and I thought maybe something was wrong. It finally passed though, and Miss Ritter got off the bed. 

'You will need to practice your self-control,' she admonished. 'But you did adequately for your first time, if that truly was your first time. Your lesson is over—go home. We will continue your training soon. In the meantime, you will practice all of what I have taught you tonight.' And then she handed me the vibrator. 'Practice with this, as well. You will show me what you have learned the next time.'

Natalie, a look of horror on her face, interrupted the sniffling woman. "Gwen, did she rape you?"

"Of course not! Women can't rape women! And besides, I wanted to...do whatever...whatever she told me to! I remember how Daddy would demand total compliance from his staff or else, so I told myself for years that I only did it because she was my boss, and I had to do whatever she said, and that it was all part of my instruction. But I can't lie to myself any more...I wanted to. I loved being told what to do—it made someone else responsible for my weakness, for my sickness!" Gwen buried her face in her hands and began to cry as Natalie moved behind her to envelop the stricken woman in a hug. They stayed like that for a while, Gwen's sobs softening to sniffles. 

"From then on, I would go to her apartment once every week or two for another lesson. She showed me how to use a lot of different sex toys, and she had me practice what I was learning on her. I even...used my tongue on her...down there."

"She used you, Gwen. That was a horrible thing to do."

"Maybe, but as sick as it sounds, I think I liked being used. And in a way, I used her too. I got to experience all those really perverted things mostly guilt-free, at least when they were happening, because she 'made' me do it! And it's not like she didn't teach me things I could use in my riding instruction—she would work with me away from her apartment, too."

"You said Tim knows about this?"

"Some. I tried to hide Tim from her as long as I could. I enjoyed my lessons with Miss Ritter, but Tim...well Tim made me weak in my knees whenever I was around him. I knew right away I wanted to spend my life with him. Miss Ritter made me feel good in certain ways, but not like I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her. Tim was a whole different story...still, I was really worried I might not like boys...that way...so I let him touch me down there a few times to make sure I liked it. He wasn't as good as Miss Ritter at it, but he was certainly good enough. I touched him, too, so I would know I could do what would be expected of me if we got married. 

But I went into a panic after Tim did ask me to marry him. I said yes, but knew it would be wrong to hide my perversions from him. So the next time we saw each other I told him I had been intimate with her—I didn't give him any details-- so he could tell me what a sick freak I was and never see me again. 

Only, he didn't. He asked if I loved her, if I preferred her over him. I told him no and that I had just done it to keep my job. And all he said was that if I wanted to quit so I wouldn't have to do it to keep my job he would support me until we got married. 

A part of me wanted to punch him—he shouldn't have been that understanding!—but the rest of me knew what an incredible man I had. The problem was, I know I didn't want to stop, but I had to. So, the next day I went to Miss Ritter and told her that I was getting married and I would have to stop my lessons.




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 09



She didn't seem angry, just a little disappointed. She said, 'So, you have chosen a life of housework and whelping over that of a respected equestrienne. I wish you luck; you have great potential that I fear will be wasted on a man. Should you ever change your mind, I will entertain resuming our lessons.' She was polite and formal for the rest of the time I worked there, but she didn't spend any more time with me than necessary.

Once I made that decision, I swore to myself that I would never be that perverted again. So, I made love to make babies, and to satisfy my husband's needs. But not for myself—that would be too dangerous a door to open again, to feel good like that. I've never used toys or had Tim kiss me down there because I associate that with the things that I used to do. Things that were wrong.

But now, it feels like I'm having a harder time being right . I mean, showing myself to strange men, and my dreams, Natalie! They're not going away, they're getting sicker and sicker!"

Natalie took the pile of tissues and threw them away. "Those things weren't wrong, and neither were you. You're human, and you were curious. It sounds like you're still both of those things, and thank God for that."

"Natalie, I'm perverted! I'm mentally ill!"

"If you're perverted, then so am I, so is Adam, and I'd be willing to guess Tim is, too. We all have things that make us tick, sexually. If no one's getting hurt, how is that bad? I'll say it again, you are not mentally ill.

"Of course I am! I had sex with a woman! You have to admit, that's sick!"

"No, I don't. Look, if I—"

The sound of the front door slamming announced Tyler's return. "Mom, did you leave anything from lunch? Matty's mom had spinach soufflé—" The teenager stopped short in the doorway as his mother and aunt hurriedly packed up a cardboard box. "Oh, hi Aunt Gwen, everything OK?"

"Oh fine," she sniffled. "Just looking at some things that brought back old memories." The teenager was shocked to see his Aunt crying—he had never known her to exhibit much emotion at all—but he decided his mother was handling it just fine without his help.

"I've got to get this bottomless pit fed, and then get to work," Natalie announced. "But I really think we should continue our conversation. I'm off Monday, think we can squeeze in a ride?" 

"I'd like that a lot." 

"I'll be over at 10."



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 10



Natalie's gifts were hidden in an unused pair of riding boots in the back of Gwen's closet as soon as the red-eyed woman got home. She examined the lifelike black dildo for some time, absentmindedly stroking it as she marveled at how the maker's attention to detail made it look and feel like a darker, supersized, version of her husband's manhood. The weight of the cudgel was impressive, and she idly wondered if Tim's was this heavy, and how long she could hold it before her arm tired. No need to hold it if you put it where it's supposed to go, the Slut chuckled before the Lady pointedly reminded Gwen of the trucks' imminent return. She slipped the massive tool into the right boot while the vibrators occupied the left. The packaging was hurried across the yard to the office, where she shredded anything that might identify what she had received. Gwen chose to save the catalog though, slipping it inside a payables folder from three years ago. It was very thoughtful of Natalie to give her the toys, she decided as she closed and locked the filing cabinet drawer, not that she would ever use them.

Natalie. Gwen was relieved to have finally shared the cause of years of shame, but with the relief came panic—would her sister think less of her for her Lesbian dalliance? Would she tell someone at the hospital? Someone who might tell someone that knew Gwen and her family? Would Adam be let in on his sister's sordid past, and would he in turn tell their parents? The possibility that someone might discover her weakness and perhaps exploit it made her feel especially exposed and vulnerable. And yet while the anxiety was real, the troubled woman had to admit it was not as bad as when she had confessed to Tim. Her tearful confession then had been predicated by the certain knowledge that he would tell others out of revenge after he rejected her, and she would be forced to leave the state and re-start her life far away. Should anyone find out now, she decided, self-exile to her home would be the punishment.

Tim didn't tell, and Natalie won't either, Gwen reasoned during moments of calm. She spent the weekend alternating between hope and panic, her one romantic interlude with her husband a muted affair because of the fear of the unknown, more reminiscent of their lovemaking before that day in the dressing room, before she had started having those dreams. 

Dinner at her parents' house on Sunday was an especially stressful gathering as she looked for signs that her parents had somehow found out about exactly what her duties at the stables had included, and that the working-class man she had been dating had been the least of their worries. Adam and Natalie had been there as well, her sister showing no indication that Gwen's confession two days earlier was of concern at all, making no mention of it in the public setting of her in-law's kitchen. The pair talked and laughed about more mundane matters, much to their hosts' confusion over the warming of their relationship.

The irrational part of Gwen's panic warned that Natalie might not show on Monday, that she would either be so disgusted with what she had heard that any future get-togethers would be with others in attendance so as not to be alone with a known Lesbian, or that she would be out spreading the word as to what a slut her sister truly was. 

She was relieved to see her car pull into the yard five minutes early that Monday morning. Gwen had prepared an apology for her outburst on Friday, hoping that the whole episode might be re-buried and forgotten, but Natalie was the first to speak of more than the weather (hot and sunny) and yesterday's family dinner (entertaining) as the horses climbed to the start of the tree-line path. 

"Gwen, I'm really sorry we couldn't talk more when you were over. I felt like you got shut off when you should have had a chance to let it all out, and I hope you'll want to continue today. We've got all the time in the world. But, let me start where you left off before my teenage stomach barged into the kitchen. 

No, I do not have to admit you're sick. You seem pretty normal to me, exploring your natural urges in the only way you thought you could and not be responsible for some sort of failing of morality. What's bothered you more all these years-- that you had sex, or that you had sex with a woman?"

Gwen stared back, confusion in her eyes, Dart's path momentarily forgotten. "Well both, but I guess...I just always felt bad for Tim, like he had been cheated, like he was getting a flawed wife." 

"Why? Was he upset he wasn't the first? That he didn't get your cherry?"

Gwen blushed at the bluntness of the question. "Well, no, not that he ever said, but to tell the truth, Miss Ritter didn't, you know, get 'it', either. According to her, there was nothing to take. She told me one time that most riders lose their, umm, cherry, before their first man. 'True equestriennes lose their maidenhead to the saddle before the sword,' I think is how she put it. Anyways, I always blamed myself for letting it happen, for being weak and letting my sluttiness overrule proper behavior, so I decided I wouldn't be weak any more, that Tim deserved a proper lady as a wife. And when the girls came along, well they most certainly deserved a...well, a good mother."

"So, because you liked having sex all those years ago, to make things right you decided that not having sex should be your punishment?"

The tiny brunette rode in silence for a moment, obviously turning her answer over in her mind. "Not punishment...well maybe that, I guess, but it just seemed like the right thing to make the situation better. To tell the truth, I've tried not to think about it all, so you may be right, but what if it's more than that? What if I liked what I did with her because I really am a Lesbian? And I just married Tim to stop me from being one?" 

Natalie answered carefully. "Do you find him sexually attractive?"

The other rider blushed and looked down at the path before nodding. "So much so, it made controlling my urges very, very hard when I was younger. I had gotten better at it after a while...until recently."

"Do you find other men attractive? Do you ever catch yourself thinking what they might be hiding under their jeans, what they might be like in bed? Be honest now..."

Gwen's first instinct was to emphatically deny the allegation, but she knew now was the not the time to lie, not when she was talking to the woman she hoped could help her. "Sometimes," she in a voice just above a whisper. "Once again, more than I used to. Which is one of the reasons I think I'm sick." An image of Andrew standing in her kitchen while she applied the burn salve pushed unbidden into her mind, only this time he was naked from the waist down as well. Gwen resolutely banished the thought while the Slut chuckled. 

Natalie laughed softly. "Me, I think that's your normal coming out. People use their imagination all the time—that's what books and movies are, right?—so why not imagine things that make you feel good? Whether or not you act on them is up to you and Tim." Gwen shot a glance at the woman to find a sly grin on her face.

"So, we've established that you think about naked men, and I'm telling you it's healthy to do so. Sounds pretty hetero to me. Do you ever think about women that way?" 

A look of shock crossed Gwen's face. The question would have been a no-brainer a month ago, but now...the image of Natalie in the pool popped up. 

"No!" she cried, hoping her tone might cover the lie. 

"You sure? C'mon Gwen, you can tell me. You wouldn't be the first straight girl in history to like the idea of a little female frolicking. You wouldn't even be the first girl in this family."

Gwen turned to look at her sister in stunned silence, trying to ensure she was correctly understanding what Natalie was saying.

"Look Gwen, you've trusted me, now let me trust you with a little secret. Remember how I told you when I went to Nursing School, my roommates and I weren't particularly modest?" The wide-eyed rider nodded. "Well, maybe modest wasn't descriptive enough."

Natalie could see her sister didn't understand. "You see, with four girls and only two bedrooms, there wasn't a lot of privacy. The first couple of weeks, I think we all tiptoed around, hoping that our schedules would give us some alone time with our boyfriends or ourselves to tend to any urges, if you know what I mean. Well, it didn't really work out that way, and we were all starting to get a little frustrated. 

You remember Liz, my best friend, right?" Gwen nodded. She had first met the tall, slender redheaded Maid of Honor at Natalie's bridal shower. The wedding and parties over the years had given her a chance to observe the woman in the same detached, clinical way Gwen did with all she met. She remembered how the woman's poise and bearing reminded her of herself. Unlike Natalie's other friends, Liz seemed to maintain a sense of control and propriety that even Miss Ritter would have found acceptable.

"Well, Liz and I shared one of the bedrooms in our apartment. Two double beds in a room that was made to fit one. Anyways, one night, a couple of weeks after I moved in, we were both trying to get to sleep, and I could hear her sighing and tossing and turning. I could tell she was trying to fight her way into sleep, so I joked that she might as well just get up and study. She laughed a little and a minute later said, "look I hope this doesn't freak you out, but I have a way of getting relaxed when I'm like this, you know what I mean?" 

I asked her what she did to relax, and she said in that slow, drawn out way she uses when she's nervous, "well, I give myself an orgasm."

And then it dawned on me! She wanted to masturbate! I wasn't naïve—I played with myself sometimes, and I had been with a few boys by then, but I had never been there when someone else was doing it! I told her sure, yeah, I understand, no problem at all, and started to get up so I could go to the living room and give her some privacy, but she stopped me.

"You don't need to leave," she said. "this won't take long. I don't mind you being here if it doesn't bother you or freak you out."

"I didn't want to look like I was a scared kid, and besides, maybe this was just some sort of roommate etiquette I wasn't aware of, so I guess I just shrugged, got back under the covers and mumbled something like I wouldn't be bothered at all. She said, 'thanks—I appreciate it!', got up, stripped down, got something from her dresser—I found out pretty quickly it was a vibrator--flopped back on her bed without even trying to cover herself, and went to town. The room was dark, but our beds were close enough and there was enough light from the parking lot that I could see what she was doing pretty clearly. I knew I shouldn't be watching, but I couldn't help myself--she was right there, just a few feet from me.

Anyways, she came pretty quickly, just like she said she would—like I said, that was the first time I had ever watched anybody masturbate, much less cum—and after she got her breath back, she told me that if I ever needed to get off, not to be shy and just do it. Then she said goodnight and fell asleep really quick—she didn't even bother to get dressed again!

I'll admit, watching her turned me on quite a bit, so I managed to jill off under the covers after I was sure she was asleep, and I did it again the next night, too. I was still too shy to do it in front of her, though. I didn't have a vibrator—I was too chicken to actually go into one of the places that sold them and buy one—so I didn't have to worry about the buzzing waking her, and I thought I did a good job of cumming without even a squeak. 

Well, that weekend I came home alone after a late night on the party circuit and walked into our bedroom, only to be greeted by the sight of a very naked male ass between Liz's legs, humping her for all it was worth. I was pretty buzzed, but I still managed to slur out an apology and tried to get out of there. Liz stopped me and said that 'Studley here claims he's so good that he's gonna make me pass out, and I want a witness if he doesn't make good.' I found out later that they had met at one of the parties we had been at together, and he had talked a good game before they came back to our apartment. Gwen, if I hadn't been drunk and a little frustrated at the lack of male talent I had met that night, I probably would have just laughed and made my escape. Instead, I sat down on my bed and got an up-close view. There she was, lying under this hot-looking guy, Liz looking up at him, the guy looking over at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. He must have gotten off on having an audience, because he went back to hammering her. Mr. Hot Guy came a minute later, very porno-like with lots of grunts and shivers, and as soon as he was done, pulled out, took off his rubber, and started getting dressed. Liz was pissed that he wasn't staying to finish her off, but he just gave her that same shit-eating grin and was out the door as soon as he could slip on his shoes. 

She had some really choice words for him when she got up and went to get her vibrator. I was pretty turned on myself, so I just stripped down to my panties and bra and got under the covers. I was going to wait until she at least turned off the light before I started to take care of business, but she didn't even bother to do that, she just laid on the bed, opened her legs, and started playing with herself. I think my buzz helped me decide that if she didn't care, neither did I, and my hand went down under my panties. Of course, I still had the covers over me. I played with myself while I watched her. She still seemed pissed, though, and I wondered if you could have an orgasm while you were that angry. 

All of the sudden she looked over at me. I froze like I had been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. "Looks like we both have the same problem," she said.

I had no idea what she was talking about. "Huh?" was all I could say.

She smiled and said, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing under there. And don't think I didn't hear you when you thought I was asleep. You could have used your vibrator, you know."

I told her I didn't have one and she said, "Well, we'll have to fix that. Until then, feel free to borrow mine. But right now, what do you think? Want to give each other a hand?" 

I asked her what she meant, and she said, "you know, I touch you, you touch me, we both go into space for a little while, we go to sleep happy and satisfied." 

I got it then. "Thanks, but I'm not a Lesbian," I told her.

She laughed and said. "Neither am I. I mean, look at what I just had between my legs. But I've found that girls just know the right way to scratch another girl's itch...so, want to see if I've got the right stuff to scratch each other's itches?"

I don't know what came over me Gwen, maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the fact I was so turned on from what I had seen and been doing, maybe it was that I was young and ready to try new things, maybe it was because I had to admit, I found Liz attractive. Anyways, I just said "yeah," and she came over to my bed and kissed me and told me to do whatever I liked to have done to myself, and she made me cum and I made her cum, and we scratched each other's itches for the rest of the time we roomed together. "

Gwen rode on in stunned silence as they reached the top of the ridge. "But, you started dating Adam when you were still in college, right? Did you stop...with her...once you met him?"

Natalie laughed. "Nope. I made it very clear to him once we became an item that while I loved doing the nasty with him, my roommates and I took care of each other too, and if he couldn't deal with it, he could find his own way to the door without any hard feelings from me."

"Other roommates? You had sex with your other roommates?"

From time to time. Most often with Liz, though, since we shared a room and became really close friends. If one of us was horny and needed something more than what our boyfriends or our toys could provide, the others were there to help. No big deal."

No big deal!? Didn't Adam think it was a big deal? I mean his wife was sleeping around with other women..."

"There was no ring on my finger, at least not then," Natalie corrected. "And yeah, I think he was a little intimidated by it all at first, especially given your family's values, but he could see I wasn't going to give up a nice arrangement for some dumb boy, and that other guys might not have as much of an issue with it. And in a weird sort of way, I think it proved to him I wasn't after your family's money, although I'm sure he didn't use that line of reasoning with your parents. I was obviously not going to change my ways for an engagement ring. Besides, he got benefits, as well."

"Benefits? How does a man benefit from having his girlfriend sleeping with other women?"

The riders dismounted and tied the horses to nearby trees. "Sure you want to know?" Natalie asked with an uncertain smile as they took a seat on the picnic table.

"I guess." 

"Let's just say that your brother occasionally got to join in. Sometimes as an observer, sometimes as a participant." 

Gwen's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh my God..." Mental images of him growing up alternated with him naked, coupled with Natalie and others.

"Sorry," Natalie said nervously. "Too much information?"

The shocked woman shook her head no, although she wondered if that was the truth. Finally, she spoke. "So, it all stopped when you got married?" 

Again Natalie smiled nervously. "Not exactly. Things quieted down quite a bit, I mean, havings and two kids will do that, but Liz and I still get together for girls weekends sometimes...and before you ask, yes Adam knows. I would never do anything like that behind his back." Well, not never, Natalie thought, but that was definitely not a story for today...

"And what does he think of these...'girls weekends'?"

"He's fine with them. He knows there's no way I would leave him for her—she's a friend, he's the love of my life, all that stuff, and to be honest, he loves to hear the details. Spices things up quite a bit, if you know what I mean.

Look Gwen, the reason I told you this is—well, I wanted you to know that I'm bi, and I'm not ashamed to say that. Obviously, it's not something I discuss with many people, but I want you to know that if you have those feelings, well, I'm a sympathetic ear, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Unless, of course, you think I'm mentally ill." The look on her sister's face told Gwen the last statement had not been added as a jest. 

"No, I most certainly don't think you're mentally ill," she replied hurriedly, searching for the right words, "but I'm not bisexual. I love Tim very, very much."

"And I love Adam with all my heart too, enough that I committed to spend my life with him, to have his children, to empty his gym bag after he's left it in the car for a week," she added with a smile. "But what I shared with my roommates, and still share with Liz, just seemed like a natural extension of our friendships. The physical pleasure and the emotional bonding...I like to think I have the best of both worlds. An incredible man who I'd do anything for, and a good friend who is in tune with my physical and emotional happiness." 

The two sat in silence for some time looking across the rolling landscape. Gwen's mind reeled, trying to process all that she had heard, her own worries momentarily forgotten. Had she ever said anything disparaging about bisexuals that might have offended her sister? Had Natalie ever tried to come on to other women in her presence, and had she just not noticed? Had Natalie ever come on to her? Gwen's mind raced across time, trying to remember various gatherings and events since she had first met the blonde sitting next to her all those years ago. Maybe Gwen had unintentionally sent signals that she was a bisexual, and Natalie had picked up on them?




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 10



Don't be ridiculous, the Lady harrumphed. You're no bisexual. You're a proper lady.

A proper lady who's had her tongue in another woman's vagina, the Slut guffawed. Again the flustered woman attempted to test herself. Did she find Natalie attractive in that way? A brief image of the two women naked and locked in an embrace flashed through Gwen's head before she angrily dismissed it. 

"Whew, hot," Natalie finally said as she fanned herself before reaching for her t-shirt and pulling it over her head, revealing the ubiquitous pink jog bra. Gwen quickly began looking for intentions and threats. Was this the opening move to being seduced by her sister? How would she politely say no? Could she say no? 

The Lady returned. Don't be silly, she scolded uncertainly. She knows you're not that way. She's just hot. You know how casual she is about exposing herself. The Slut said nothing, instead seizing control of Gwen's hands and guiding them to the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning until the blouse lay open to her navel, white bra exposed to the sunlight. "Yes, it is." The Lady muttered darkly, but was unable to reverse the unveiling

"We should probably get back down the hill," Natalie said quietly, rising from her seat and moving to the horses. Gwen quickly agreed and joined her, deliberately leaving the buttons undone after her sister made it clear her t-shirt would remain off. The pair slowly began their descent back down to the barn.

"So, did Tim ever ask for more details about you your boss?" The sound of Natalie's voice surprised Gwen as the cicadas sang about them. "You know, what you did, exactly?" 

"Once or twice after we were first married, but I told him I didn't want to talk about it and he stopped asking." 

"Maybe you should tell him."

"Oh God, no! I couldn't do that! He'd think I'm a slut or a whore!"

"He already knows you two were together. If he's asking for details, it's probably because he finds it interesting. Like Adam finds me and Liz interesting," Natalie added with a smile. "Give him some stroke material."

Gwen did her best to sound indignant. "Tell him he was not the first to have intercourse with his wife, but a woman with a rubber penis attached to a belt around her waist was? Or that the mother of his children used to practice her riding posture sitting on her boss's face? I don't think so!" 

"He's a guy. I'm sure his imagination has made up all sorts of lurid storylines about you and the immortal Miss Ritter. What do you think he thinks about when he jacks off?"

"I don't know. I don't even know for sure he does...that. I've never seen him." The way Tim so casually stroked himself to orgasm on her made Gwen doubt her words.

"He's a guy," Natalie repeated. "He does. He's just discrete. Ask him if he does, and what he thinks about. Maybe you might be able to give him some new material, or get some ideas for ways to play together that you both like." 

Gwen grunted noncommittally, another line of thought added to those already swirling around her head. They arrived back at the barn almost without her realizing it, Gwen rebuttoning her shirt as they covered the last few yards before breaking into the clearing. 

"Swim?" the blonde asked after the horses were groomed and turned out into the paddock.

"Sure," Gwen answered. The urge to just go straight to the pool, strip down and dive in seized her, but the Lady firmly squashed that idea. Instead, she began the walk to the house for her suit and some towels. There was no doubt in her mind as to what her sister would be wearing, and she envied her. 

"I'll meet you up there," Natalie called out as she headed for her car. "Need to get something." 

Once inside, Gwen gave the one-piece only a cursory glance before settling on the bikini. She began to reach for the robe, but stopped. No. No robe. Gathering the towels, she stepped out of the house wearing what she considered to be next to nothing.

She arrived at the top of the hillock to find Natalie standing by the table, pouring wine into two plastic cups, wearing less than next-to-nothing. "No glass around the pool," she said with a smile as she handed her sister the drink. "Safety first." Natalie continued on to the pool steps with her glass, Gwen watching her swaying buttocks and smooth, supple back with a mix of interest and concern as she took the first steps into the water and waded in up to her breasts. Maybe this isn't a good idea after what you two just talked about, the Lady warned ominously, but Gwen steadfastly ignored her. 

Setting down the towels and taking a sip before putting the wine on the table, she turned back to the pool to find her sister looking back up at her expectantly. "You know you don't need to wear that, right?"

"So I see," Gwen replied. "I'm sure one of the crews would love to come back early for parts and find me in my birthday suit. But they'll think they died and went to heaven if they see you."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Nawww, I've got saggy boobs and Mom butt. You, you're all smooth lines and toned muscle. Besides, a boss who writes the paychecks and shows 'em her titties? You'd be Employer of the Year." 

Gwen briefly eyed her sister's chest just below the surface. Saggy? Not a chance. That was a pair she would kill for. And she knew her behind was plenty inviting for any man who watched it bounce away from them. Still, the urge to show Natalie what she had, perhaps to be admired, overcame any fear of being caught. She nervously scanned the surroundings for unwelcome guests, briefly wondering if they would really be so unwelcome after all. Sweep completed, she quickly untied the knots holding her top in place before letting it drop near the stairs and ducking a bit to walk down the steps. The water had reached her knees when she stopped and stood upright, looking about nervously in a manner that reminded Natalie of a squirrel looking for predators. Gwen looked at the nude woman yards from her and scanned her surroundings again. Satisfied, her thumbs went to the sides of her bottoms and pushed them down, first one leg raised to remove them, then the other. They were flipped next to the discarded top and Gwen hurried down into the water. 

"Good girl!" Natalie cried. "Doesn't that feel so much better?"

"It does," Gwen agreed. And I know what would feel even better, the Slut announced as she glanced to where the filter jet ruffled the pool's surface. 

The pair just stood and enjoyed the chill of the water for a moment before Natalie managed to goad her sister out of the pool long enough to collect her wine, smiling as the nervous woman dashed across the cement and back into the relative safety of the water, all the while looking about her nervously. 

"How are you holding up?"

Gwen stopped her march to the deeper end of the pool and whirled to face her sister. "Sorry?"

"How are you holding up? You really let out some heavy stuff at my house, and I'm afraid I did the same to you today. You OK with everything?"

Gwen let out a sigh and averted her eyes into her glass. "Yeah, I think so. Just something I never really thought I would ever think about again, much less talk about, but I'm glad I did. Thanks for listening. And, thanks for confiding in me," she hurriedly added.

Natalie raised her glass in a mock toast. "You're welcome and you're welcome. And what of my little revelation? Do you think I'm a two-timing slut?"

"No!" Gwen cried, and truthfully she didn't. A month ago, her answer, at least to herself, might have been much, much different, but now, it just felt like she had gained a kindred human spirit of sorts. A novel feeling, she admitted to herself. 

"Are you going to tell Tim about me?"

"No!" Gwen repeated. "Why would I?"

"You can if you want. You've got one of the good ones there and I trust him. I always have. Besides, your daughters already know. Why should he be the only one in the dark? Besides, might get you some hot lovin'. Nobody else needs to know though, alright?"

"Of course, and why did you tell Ali and KD?"

"Let's just say it came up in conversation, and leave it at that for now."

The two fell silent for a moment, Gwen wondering how she would ever insert that revelation into polite conversation. "Hey Tim, by the way, your sister has sex with girls and my brother likes it." Yeah, that would work just fine. She also really wanted to know more about Natalie and her daughters, but her sister-in-law's tone made it clear now was not the time to discuss it.

"Did you get to use your gifts over the weekend?"

Gwen looked up to see Natalie smiling at her. 

"Uhh, no, with Tim home..." 

"What did he think of them?"

"Oh, he doesn't know about them. Just our secret, OK?"

Natalie laughed. "Secrets between spouses can be bad, remember?" 

Gwen smiled and looked back into her glass, for some reason suddenly reminded of her nudity. 

"Tell him," Natalie commanded. "At the very least, ask him about what he does for fun when you're not available, maybe give him the chance to ask you things that might let you tell him about your toys...or Miss Ritter..." The thought of discussing her old boss with Tim petrified Gwen, but she realized that her growing curiosity about her husband's body also included his views on sex. Maybe she would ask, if the time was right. 

"And," she continued, "I want you to go in there after I leave, think up the nastiest, dirtiest fantasy you've never dared have, and use those toys to give yourself an orgasm that will straighten the curls in your pubes. I'm going to take off now so you can have plenty of time to play before everybody starts coming back."

"No, I can't do that," Gwen demurred. "Maybe Tim will want to, you know, tonight and I want to be ready for him."

"You can do both. Hell, surprise him and put on a show tonight. But you will make yourself cum before he gets home, am I clear?"

"Really, I can't—"

Natalie moved closer, now just inches from the woman anxiously trying to avoid eye contact. "Look, I'm sure you have to be at least a little worked up after all our talking and skinnydipping I know I am, and if I've got the house to myself when I get home, I've got a fantasy all ready to go. Do it."

Gwen hesitated. She wanted to ask Natalie what her fantasy was, but decided that would be too personal. Maybe she could offer the use of her toys and one of the girls' rooms so she wouldn't have to delay what she so obviously intended? Maybe she would stay to ensure Gwen kept her end of the proposed bargain?

Now, that's crazy, the lady pronounced. Ask your sister to use your house while she fills herself with a giant black penis? And what would you be doing while she was pleasuring herself in your daughter's bed? Gwen's mind filled with an image of herself in her bed, vibrator between her legs, quickly switching to her standing over Ali's bed watching Natalie jam the giant tool into her sex. Gwen decided against making that offer today. 

"I'll...I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

"You'll do it. Or you'll answer to me." Natalie moved forward and kissed her on the cheek. Gwen wondered if this was the beginning of something more, and whether she would resist. Instead, she was vaguely disappointed when the nude woman pulled away. "Gotta go." The two women climbed from the pool, Gwen wrapping herself in her towel while Natalie pulled her bra and t-shirt on. She reached for her jeans and stopped. "Hey Gwen, can I borrow this towel? I'll bring it back next time." 

"Of course, but what for?" 

Smiling, Natalie bent forward and again kissed her sister on the cheek. "Go play." 

"I will, but Natalie, what do you want the towel for?"

"For cover, if I get stopped." She smiled and let herself through the gate, jeans and towel in hand.

"Aren't you going to put your pants on?" Gwen cried.

"Nope!"

"You're crazy!" 

"You're not." The half-nude woman walked down the hill towards her car, butt swaying saucily. Gwen couldn't be sure, but it really looked like her sister didn't even bother to cover herself with the towel once she sat down, just throwing it on the passenger seat as she got in. She stood there, watching as the vehicle moved down the driveway and beyond the trees. Alone again, she looked about, removed her own towel, and went back down the hill wearing less than when she had come up, albeit at a much quicker pace. 

Once inside the house she slowed again, loving the illicit thrill of her total nudity. Gwen took her time, strolling about the house, straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table before placing the recycling in the bin by the garage door for Tim to move later, bum thrust high in the air as she completed each chore, offering herself to whoever might be watching. Still, she was on full alert, listening for the sound of trucks pulling into the yard.

She straightened and stretched languidly, breasts pushed out in presentation to her imaginary audience before slowly walking up the hallway towards her bedroom. I told you, the monster is out of the cage, the Lady shrieked. First you practically throw yourself at your sister, then you strut about the house like a whore on display, and now you're going to touch yourself!

The reminder of her willingness to allow her relationship with Natalie to advance to something terribly wrong did give Gwen pause. Sex with a woman was what got her in trouble in the first place, sex behind Tim's back would be unforgivable. Thankfully it didn't get to that, she told herself, and I won't let it get that far again. 

The best way to avoid that situation in the future is to take the edge off before hand, the Slut counseled. Maybe you could see how it works right now? Gwen agreed—she could have no other sexual partner other than Tim, but maybe using the toys would be an acceptable outlet for her newfound urges? It seemed to work for Natalie.

And Natalie has sex outside of marriage, with women, the Lady cautioned in a guilt-by-association kind of way, but Gwen chose to ignore this, too. Gently closing the bedroom door behind her, she moved to the closet and pulled out her riding boots. Vibrators and dildo were removed and taken to the bed, boots left out should she have to hide quickly. Gwen carefully laid the black staff on the bed as if it were a loaded weapon that might go off, then put the Magic Wand next to it while she tested the rabbit. Sliding both switches up the handle produced a frantic vibration while the faux-penis head rotated, causing the white ball bearings to circle the shaft. She smiled and knew from experimentation when she first unpacked it that the intensity of the vibration and speed of the rotation could be controlled by sliding the switches back. She turned the humming object off and put it on the bed before reaching for the Wand. Gwen plugged it into the surge strip on her side of the bed and thumbed the black rocker switch. A deeper, heavier vibration rumbled through her hand, and switching it to the low setting seemed to only slightly reduce the intensity. She switched it off and put it back next to the dildo. She was ready.

Gwen took a deep breath and gingerly climbed over the toys to lie in the center of her marital bed, where Tim had given her so much pleasure lately. And now, she was going to give herself that pleasure. A wave of guilt washed over her, both from the fact that masturbation was wrong as well as the fact that she was depriving Tim of what was rightfully his to provide, but the Slut fought back with the full power of the woman's arousal. Don't be silly, her conscience cried. It's natural, it's good for you! It doesn't seem to be doing Natalie any harm. And it sounds like your daughters agree with her, too. 

Not fair, the Lady warned. Your sister is off limits when you're thinking about this nastiness, and your daughters are way, way off limits.

The Slut continued on, unabashed. And you're not taking anything away from Tim. He can have you any time he wants—if he wants to fuck you until you walk funny, more power to him. This is just for those times when he's not available...

Gwen lay back and closed her eyes. The uncertainty and guilt were still there, to be sure, but the arousal had won. Images began to form...back when she had practiced with Miss Ritter's vibrator, the only things that had come to mind were of her experiences with her mentor. Gwen knew those were sensitive, too dangerous to be used now. She searched for something else. 

An image of the dressing room at Crandall's began to take shape, where she was undressing for Tim while he sat looking through the partially-closed curtain. She stripped for him, turning and thrusting her breasts out in his direction while she looked over her shoulder into the mirror at her firm butt. Gwen turned her attention to her husband to find him sitting in his chair, pants now open, his hand fisting his erection while he stared into her cubicle despite the other men who had magically appeared and now sat around him. Lost in her building fantasy, Gwen's left hand began to gently stroke an erect nipple while the right strayed to her crotch, drawing a line up and down her downy-covered slit. 

Emboldened by Tim's display, Gwen turned to her fantasy audience, bending over at the waist to adjust the heels she was wearing, heels she would never wear in real-life, taking her time to tease. After an impossibly long time in this position, she brought herself up just enough to put both hands on the wall in front of her and spread her legs to give Tim and the watching men a clear view of her sex. Gwen's hand went between her legs in this lewd display to stroke and open her flower to the watching men while her very real finger began to stroke her clitoris. 

Gwen opened her eyes long enough to find the rabbit and place the head at her opening while the ears nestled against her bud. An inexperienced thumb managed to find the controls and slide them up enough to generate very pleasant sensations wherever the vibrator touched her. 

Rough hands—Tim's rough hands—grabbed her by the waist and pulled back until she was impaled on his cock. He was not gentle with her, not like he was in real life. In her fantasy, he pounded into her, hips slapping noisily against her ass while she remained bent over for his use. The audience was still there, she knew, curtain now pushed wide open and they were stroking themselves to the perverted show in front of them. Tim grunted and hissed as his spurts began to fill her. Satisfied, he pulled out. "Show 'em what I gave you," Tim growled.

The order from her husband helped complete the rabbit's work, and Gwen began to cum. The vibrator and the hand that held it were trapped between tightly-clenched thighs. She fought to keep from crying out as she had been taught to do all those years ago, not questioning why it still was required. All she could focus on was the orgasm, the waves of pleasure rolling through her, making her breathing ragged and forced. 

The waves eventually passed, and Gwen's muscles began to relax. Nervously she checked for the guilt and shame that had always accompanied her self-given climaxes before. They were there, but not strong, not overwhelming. If it got no worse than this, the alert woman decided, then it was bearable, especially when compared to her climax. 

Go again? the Slut suggested. You didn't even touch your BBC. Gwen smiled. Maybe one more...

A giant black penis, deep inside you. Won't that be a surprise for your husband when he walks through the door any moment now? The Lady warned. Gwen glanced at the alarm clock. Maybe not any moment, but close enough to not risk it, she decided. She reluctantly put her toys away, dressed, and headed for the office to catch up on overdue paperwork.




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 10



It was the first time Cliff could ever remember Gwen greeting the returning trucks in shorts and a t-shirt.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 11



(Author's Note: Thank you to all who have left comments and sent e-mails. Your ideas and suggestions on what direction you would like this story to take are welcomed, and a couple of themes which I have gotten the most requests for will continue to be incorporated into this story. I'm finding a great part of the fun of writing this is coming up with events to fit these themes while keeping the story at least plausible. My apologies in advance if this takes things in a direction you had not desired; however, I am trying to let the majority rule wherever possible. 

Also, this story takes place in a fictional world. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.) 

*

Tim finished his second beer, closed down the house, and made his way to the bedroom. Gwen was already there, reading, a feeling of content about her despite the day's events. Natalie's admission had somehow made her own just slightly less disturbing, and the afternoon's activity where she now lay had left her satisfied, the inevitable guilt not nearly the crushing doom it had been in the past. 

She watched as her husband trudged past her into the bathroom, emerging a moment later in just his boxers. Tim flopped theatrically on to his side of the bed, not bothering to pull the covers back. "Even climbing stairs is getting hard," he said with a sigh. "It's hell getting old."

"If you would just send whoever's with you to get things off the truck, you would only need to take the stairs once," Gwen gently chided as she put her book down and laid her head on his chest. "You certainly hauled enough stuff for Mr. McGilvary." 

Tim laughed and put his arm around her shoulder. "Yeah, but I had to. He wasn't a pushover like me." He briefly thought about finding out whether Gwen was up for a quick roll in the hay, but decided against it. Her mood last weekend had been very hard to figure, and their one attempt at lovemaking had lacked something, like she was having second thoughts about her newfound sense of exploration. He was too tired to try and turn that around tonight. Maybe tomorrow he'd have a better read on her...

"Tim?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a question?" 

"Yes, I made sure the lid was down on the horses' feed bin."

"No, not that," she said, lightly smacking him on the chest next to her head. "Something...personal."

Warning bells went off in his head, and he was suddenly alert. "Uhh, sure?" 

"Do you, umm, ever, uhh, touch yourself?"

Tim's brain went into high gear. She didn't mean jerk off, did she? If so, why was she asking, and how should he answer? He stalled for time. "What do you mean?"

Gwen was silent for a moment, long enough for him to hope she was abandoning this line of questioning. "You know, masturbate." She finally said in a low voice, like others nearby might overhear. 

Tim quickly weighed his options. Tell the truth and upset her, or lie and hope she didn't know the facts. He decided the lie was too risky, and too deceitful. "Well, yeah, I guess, every once in a while, why do you ask?"

His wife had still not raised her head to look at him, her hand still resting on his stomach. "I don't know, I was just wondering...I had heard most guys do, but you never said anything about it."

"Well, yeah most guys do," Tim agreed seizing on this as proof he was not wrong to do so, either. "And the ones that say they don't are lying." 

"Why didn't you ever tell me before?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear about it."

"When do you do it?"

He continued to choose his words carefully. "Well, if you're not home, or have gone to bed..."

"Where?"

Tim didn't like where this was going, but knew it would be best to not try and evade the question. "Wherever I happen to be where the mood strikes and I can get comfortable. In here, the living room--"

"The living room! Out in the open like that!?"

He risked a chuckle and decided Gwen didn't need to know about the pool or office couch yet. "It's not exactly out in the open. It's my house. I'm pretty good about not letting people in to watch."

Gwen went silent for a moment, and Tim feared she might be hurt or angry. The silence was killing him, but he didn't know how to break it gracefully. "Don't I satisfy you?" she finally asked in a small voice. 

He hugged her tightly. "You absolutely do. Making love to you is very special. It's just that...well, I think we're on different schedules that way. I like to umm, relieve some stress more often than you need to relieve stress."

"It's my job to you relieve your stress whenever you need it," she said softly. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Stop that. It's not your job, and I don't want it to be a job. I want it to be something you want, too. And if you only want it every so often, that's OK—that's never bothered me, and I'm happy to report that I've got the know-how to take care of myself." 

Tim waited for her to roll away from him and turn off the light, anything that might signal she found his admission distasteful. "Would you be upset if I...wanted to... to do it more?" she finally offered. 

"Of course not! But only if you want to, and you're not doing it just for me," he added quickly. "Like I said, I've never considered it your job." 

"No it's not that, I've just had these feelings lately...like it might be good for me to relieve some stress more often, too."

I've noticed you've been more adventurous the past few weeks," he replied, seizing the chance to turn the subject away from his masturbatory habits. "Why the change?" 

She shrugged, her hair tickling his bare chest. "Kids are out of the house, we have more time together...talking to Natalie has made me think maybe I've been a bit too strict with myself in regards to...in things like that." Thoughts of her dressing room shows flashed through her mind. 

"That Natalie's a smart woman. Let me know how I can help you," her husband rumbled, hugging her. 

Her hand traced lines in the mat of hair above where his flaccid length lay hidden under dark blue fabric. "Would you take off your shorts for me?"

The evening's looking up, Tim thought. "I will if you will." 

Gwen sat up long enough to discard her t-shirt before laying back to slide her underwear down to her ankles. Tim worked in reverse, quickly pushing his shorts off as soon as the head on his chest moved, looking over in time to see his wife's verdant patch of hair come into view. Naked, they reached for each other, hands moving and teasing while they kissed. Tim was quickly at full-mast, and Gwen was pleasantly surprised and relieved at how willing her body was to accept his advances despite her earlier self-induced orgasm. Something about Tim's touch and the feel of his very masculine body against hers spurred her excitement, and scenes of her and her husband, in a naked embrace on a beach, fluttered through her mind. Sand in all the wrong places, the Lady tried to warn, but Gwen ignored her while they rolled in the surf re-enacting scenes she had seen in movies and TV. Her arousal continued to build, past the point where she would have normally broken their clinch and allowed him to mount her. A plan had begun to form in her mind, something different tonight, something wickedly perverted and exciting. Their touching continued, far longer than the norm.

The idea, the beach, and Tim's hand all eventually combined to give Gwen her second climax of the day, a gentler one than the afternoon's perhaps, but satisfying nonetheless. She broke the kiss she had used to help stifle any cry. "Thank you. That was wonderful."

"Welcome." Tim lay there, holding her, wondering how long it was proper to wait before moving between her legs for his turn. 

Gwen moved first, gently pushing him back until he lay flat. "May I try something?" Tim didn't protest as he tried to control his active imagination. Gently, she began to kiss her way down his chest, briefly wondering if men found pleasure in having their nipples licked before just going ahead and doing it. Tim's contented sigh told her they did. She stayed a moment, noting with satisfaction how the nub now stood erect under tongue much like hers did when they were the object of his fascination, then continued on down his stomach, coming ever closer to his midsection. Gwen nuzzled in the coarse fur surrounding her husband's aching erection, the shaft jumping and twitching in anticipation of what might come next. Tim's fingers stroked and caressed her back as she kissed the length just below the head, delighting in the warmth against her lips while she inhaled her man's musky scent. Her lips traveled down the length to his sac, tongue dragging along the way, then made their way back up. Gwen paused where the mushroom head of her husband's staff began, tasting a hint of the slippery liquid her fingers had spread earlier. She tentatively licked up the furrow, collecting more of his essence on her tongue, then let her lips rest on him a moment. Gwen took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and slid her lips down over her husband. 

Tim was in shock despite his fantasy-driven anticipation and only barely managed to control the urge to drive himself deeper into his wife's waiting mouth. What the hell had Natalie said to her? Now was not the time to question, though, and let out a low moan of pleasure to assure Gwen she was welcome where she was. 

Now what?' the emboldened woman thought. Do I just hold still and let him do the work, or is that up to me? The hips attached to the thing in her mouth were not moving; she decided the next move was hers. Her tongue gently swathed the velvety head before she pursed her lips around the staff and began to slide up and down it, imitating the rhythm of their lovemaking. 

Tim groaned in appreciation, resisting the urge to place a hand on his wife's head and help guide her movements. He had learned from his first girlfriend that preventing the lips wrapped around your cock from leaving was not appreciated. Instead, he carefully began to flex his hips in time to his wife's efforts, luxuriating in sensations he had not felt for so long. 

Gwen, for her part, instinctively knew that her teeth were best kept clear of the tender skin they passed over, and struggled to avoid taking her husband's shaft so deeply that she might gag. By wrapping her hand around him and sliding it to control his penetration, she developed some comfort of Ti's manhood sliding across her tongue. And despite her climax, the wickedness of what she was doing excited her, so much so that thoughts of other times and places she might do this began to flicker in her imagination. 

Tim continued to thrust, the novelty of the act and Gwen's hand and mouth causing the pressure to build inside of him. As much as he was enjoying her efforts, he knew it was time to switch to something more traditional before his seed ended up somewhere his wife surely didn't intend. "Gwen honey, you better stop. I'm almost there."

"Mm—hmmm," came her reply as she resolutely tightened her lips around his shaft and began to bob more quickly, doing her best to imitate his pace when he was between her legs.

"No—honey, I'm about to finish, you know?"

Gwen removed his length from her mouth. "I know—I want you too," she said breathlessly before plunging him back between her lips.

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Mm-hmm..."

Something in him shouted that this was still not a good idea, but lust took over. Tim began to thrust more forcefully while trying to maintain some control as his wife's hands and lips remained tightly wrapped around his cock. The first volley leapt from him seconds after he grunted his last warning.

Gwen recoiled as the first pulse hit the back of her throat but managed to keep the spurting head in her mouth while she fought her gag reflex. The idea of swallowing his spend as he gave it to her had seemed reasonable when she had first decided to let him finish that way, that it would be like drinking from a straw, but instead her body overruled her and frantically collected the thick gel as her tongue reflexively blocked it's escape down her throat. A better solution did not present itself—it had to go somewhere eventually, she knew—and she continued to collect the salty substance for when it might.

Tim's hips gave one more involuntary thrust against the tiny hand gripping his cock, emptying the last dribbles into her waiting mouth before his body went limp. Gwen guessed there would be no more added to the pool she had collected. Now what? The idea to swallow had been an easy one before she had this viscous goo on her tongue; now she wasn't sure she could. Get up and spit it into the toilet? No, that might make Tim think she had been repulsed by his orgasm. Let it dribble back on to the shaft it had come from? That didn't seem right, either. In the end, she steeled her will and swallowed. The substance reminded her of a warm salty oyster with a hint of bleach, as Natalie had warned. A little aftertaste, but her body didn't seem to be on the verge of rejecting what was now making its way to her stomach. 

"Wow," Tim exhaled explosively. 

Gwen removed him from her mouth and sat up. "Was that alright? Did I do it right?"

Tim laughed and glanced down at his still-hard cock. She couldn't have swallowed it, could she have? His manhood showed no signs she had given it back, and it certainly didn't look like she was holding anything in her mouth...

"That was incredible, honey!" 

Impulsively he sat up to kiss her, but she recoiled. "Let me go brush my teeth," she demurred, "I'm sure you don't want to taste that." 

"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," he declared, remembering how Tammy Domillo had cut blowjobs out of their sexual menu when he had refused to kiss her after the first hummer she had given him. "What, you think it's OK for me to have that in my mouth, but not you?" she had scolded then. It had taken his cleaning her with his tongue after they had made love for her to resume her oral pleasures. Even then, she had occasionally slipped him "snowballs" to test his commitment to fair play. Tim took his wife by the shoulders and kissed her deeply, tasting the remnants of his orgasm on her tongue. Gwen never did make it to the bathroom to brush, the pair falling asleep in each other's arms.

Tim awoke to her movements as she rolled out of bed the next morning. A smile came to his face as he stretched and reviewed the previous evening while his wife grabbed the t-shirt and panties she had discarded the night before and headed for the bathroom. He lay there and waited for his turn, a little surprised to see her walk through the bedroom and up the hall in nothing more than her t-shirt, robe either forgotten or ignored. Tim eventually made his way to the kitchen to find her bent over in front of the open refrigerator, her naked ass and the treasure below it peeking out, making it evident the robe was not the only thing she had foregone. 

"Morning, honey," she said brightly as she straightened and turned. "Sleep well?"

"How could I not? You sucked the energy out of me last night." Tim blushed at the unintended reference to how she had finished him, but Gwen didn't seem to mind. 

She blushed and pushed her hair behind her ear as she turned to the counter. "Coffee?" she asked, feeling like she ought to change the subject. It was one thing to be practically naked in her kitchen, it was another to talk about their bedroom activities out here.

Tim hugged her from behind, resisting the urge to run his hand down to her naked bottom and explore a bit, before sitting down at the table. Gwen joined him, doing her best to keep her t-shirt settled properly as they talked about the day's schedule. It didn't take much for Tim to realize she had omitted a bra as well. As much as he wanted to know more about what had brought her to give him that gift last night, he knew the time wasn't right. But I will find the right time, he decided. 

High heat and late nights prevented the rest of the week from being the right time, as Tim and his crews were back well after dark and so exhausted from the working conditions that anything more than a quick shower before sleep was out of the question. Gwen managed to sneak in swims wherever she could, her bikini now her attire of choice. She had thought about leaving even that behind on more than one occasion, but without Natalie there to encourage her it still seemed too dangerous in the daylight.

Gwen thought about the items in her riding boots, as well. She had resisted the urge to use them again, telling herself they would just be for special occasions 'when the itch got bad,' as her sister had put it, but she still found herself evaluating the need more than she would have hoped. Stray thoughts about a return to the mall for more shopping had not helped the situation. 

It was not until Friday evening that the couple were able to relax with a drink by the pool. Gwen's choice of swimwear pleased Tim, and it didn't go unnoticed that while his wife had her robe, she had not bothered to wear it out of the house. 

"So, I was thinking," he announced as they sat after their swim, "that we could go down and see KD next weekend. Maybe leave Thursday night and come back Sunday?" 

Gwen's first thoughts were of their absence during a work day. "Are you going to ask Cliff to run things?" 

"Already did. Mike asked for the day off to get ready for his brother's wedding, so we'll be short an apprentice anyways." 

The rest of the evening was spent planning their trip, the organizer in her taking a more active role than her husband, as was usually the case in these situations. The night was capped off with lovemaking, Gwen practicing her oral skills and declining his offer to reciprocate before silently urging her husband to settle himself between her outstretched legs and slide his wet shaft home. 

The next morning Gwen made two calls once Tim had gone out to start his chores. The first was to Alison, asking if she and Jason might be able to stay at the house and care for the horses next weekend. Ali quickly accepted, happy to have a chance to spend the weekend away from their tiny apartment and near her horse. 

The next call was to Natalie. "Hey there," came the cherry voice after the third ring. "What's up?"

"Hi Natalie, I just wanted to give you a call...I know we hadn't set anything up, but if you were thinking of coming over next Friday to ride, I'm afraid I won't be here. But Ali will be here on the weekend, if you want to ride with her," she added quickly. 

"Maybe I will," her sister replied with a laugh, "but it won't be the same. Where will you be?"

"Tim and I are going to visit KD, and we're leaving Thursday night, coming back Sunday."

"Good for you guys! Are you staying with her?"

"Oh gosh, no. We wouldn't impose on her like that. Tim made reservations at the hotel she works at." 

"Ooh, hotel beds," Natalie purred seductively. "Great for games that don't require clothes. I think I got knocked up with both kids in hotel beds. Must be the air conditioning."

"Oh, I'd never do that there," Gwen replied. "After all, KD works there."

"Is she staying in the room with you?"

"Well, no..."

"Then what does it matter? I'm sure the maids don't keep track of the wet spots on the sheets."

Gwen laughed nervously, but deep inside, wasn't so sure. 

"So, what are you gonna take to wear that'll drive Tim wild?"

"Certainly nothing that I wouldn't be seen in public in."

"And how about something not meant to be seen in public? You know, some sexy lingerie?" 

"I haven't worn anything like that since my wedding night!"

"Then now's as good time a time to give your stud some eye candy! What are you doing tomorrow?"

She was momentarily confused by the question. "Uhh, getting the house ready for us to leave, I guess?" 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 11



"Plenty of time for that. Know where Datelli's is downtown? Meet me there at noon tomorrow." 

Gwen wanted to decline, not understanding how going to lunch at an Italian restaurant had anything to do with scandalous clothing, but the Slut wanted to find out. "I guess I've got an hour or two," she finally said. "Sure, why not?"

"Great! See you then. And hey, wear the thong I bought you, OK?"

"Gotta go," the flustered woman said without answering. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

Gwen's thoughts as she drove down into town the next day frantically rotated between the feel of the thong between her cheeks, whether anyone would be able to tell she was wearing them, and last-minute preparations for their weekend away. By the time she pulled into a parking space, the thought of stepping on to a downtown street with bare cheeks just one thin layer of fabric away from public view dominated. 

Despite the lack of a breeze, Gwen kept one arm by her side as she hurried up the sidewalk towards the little cafe, ready to keep her skirt from flying up and exposing her wicked secret to the world. The arm didn't move as the two women hugged a greeting, Natalie quickly leading the way down a nearby side street. 

The pair stopped halfway down the tree-lined sidewalk, at a small boutique called the Secret Veil. Gwen had driven by this store several times before, hardly glancing into the windows filled with all sorts of scandalous unmentionables, casually dismissing those inside as sluts and women looking to entice the wrong kind of man. Now it appeared she was going to be one of them. Natalie led the way into a space crowded with racks of garments Gwen could only loosely call sleepwear. The fact that she was not alone in this shop that sold things intended for one purpose only, that there were other women—and men! in here for the same thing she had been brought here for, made her blush furiously and avoid eye contact, hoping nobody knew who she was. 

Natalie had already started making her way among the racks, dismissing some with a toss of her head, others getting at least an impatient flick of her hand as she pushed garments from side to side. "See anything you like?" she asked without looking up.

Gwen seized upon a long, frilly garment in front of her. "This might be OK."

"When you're in the nursing home looking to get laid, that might do the trick. For next weekend, something a bit more risqué is in order." Gwen looked around nervously, worried that someone might have heard her sister's comment and guessed what the goal of her shopping trip was. 

Natalie turned and sized up her sister. "Got an idea. Follow me." The blonde charged off through the racks towards the back of the store, Gwen doing her best to keep up. They stopped abruptly at the back of the shop, to the right of a small movable partition which screened the entrance to three dressing rooms "Pick one. Be right back." The bewildered woman did as instructed, moving all the way down to the last stall where she waited with door closed even though she had nothing to try on yet. 

The door opened without a knock a couple minutes later. Natalie tossed the waiting woman something black and lacy. "Try this on—I'll be back in a minute with the rest of it." She disappeared again, not bothering to close the door. 

Gwen sorted out what she held in her hand. A bustier, she decided. She had never worn one—the wedding dress she had originally hoped for would have required it, but her mother had rejected that dress as too scandalous—and reached for the door to shut it before slipping off her blouse. 

The Slut stopped her. Last dressing room, so no one's going to come down here, and nobody's going to see you with the partition there. Why bother to close it? Natalie's just going to barge in again, anyways. The Lady harrumphed, but Gwen smiled and began to undo buttons. She hesitated briefly after hanging her blouse, wondering if this was still a good idea before deciding it was, and the bra was removed as well. In a final deference to modesty, Gwen turned her bare back to the open door and began working with the garment her sister had brought her. 

I look so slutty, she told herself after getting it buttoned about her midsection, breasts settling into the cups where they were pushed up into the most egregious display of cleavage Gwen had ever seen on herself. She had to admit though, she liked it. It made her feel...sexy. 

Gwen heard rather than saw Natalie reappear in the doorway and turned to face her. Her sister's eyes lit up in approval. "Nice. I think we have one half of a winner there. Let's see if I've got the other half. She held up a small hanger from which a lacy black belt hung. Straps dangled from the sides, and once again, although Gwen had never worn one, she knew it to be a garter belt. 

Natalie looked at her expectantly. "Let's see how it looks." Gwen stared back, past the waiting woman, to the open door behind her, sighed, and unzipped her skirt. Gingerly she removed the garter from its hanger and tried to make sense of it, of how she should put it on and wear it, and what the straps were for. "The rose goes in the front," her sister gently suggested, "and I figure we'll save you the effort of putting on the stockings for now." Gwen managed to identify the embroidered flower, and her sense of direction cleared, managed to seat the garment low about her hips. Natalie waited for her to finish before stepping in and making her own adjustments, fingers coming dangerously close to the waistband of her thong and actually dipping inside the cups of the bustier to seat her breasts correctly. 

"Oh yeah," the woman breathed appreciatively. "One more piece. Wait here." 

Gwen snorted—where was she going to go like this?—and looked out past the open door to the pale white partition beyond. The thought that someone, maybe even a man, could be on the other side of that flimsy divider aroused her. 

The sound of a young woman's entering the cube next to her came over the low wall between them. Another voice was there also—a man's voice! The Lady humphed in indignation—it was against all rules of etiquette for a man to be in a woman's dressing room for any reason! Probably even illegal! At the very least, he should be kicked out of the store! Gwen reached for her door and stopped yet again. There's no reason for him to come down here, she reasoned. No reason at all...a thought began to form, a thought that even in the safety of her bedroom she would have considered reckless and extreme. Gwen took another step towards the opening, to a spot just beyond the vision of anybody standing outside the dressing room next to hers. You're insane! The Lady screamed, and she wasn't sure she could disagree with her. 

Gwen took one more check of her attire. Bustier covering the most important parts, thong doing the same. She took a deep breath, looked down and pretended to adjust the garter, then stepped out of the cubicle.

"Natalie, is this—" she looked up to find a young man standing just three feet away, mouth wide open as he stared at her. "Woops!" she cried as she turned and dashed back into her cubicle, closing the door for effect. "I'm so sorry!" she cried out from behind the divider. "I thought you were my friend coming back!"

"Uhh, no, sorry, I shouldn't be here," a baritone voice acknowledged sheepishly. "I didn't see anything," he added quickly in a tone that made Gwen smile and told her he had. She could hear the urgent whispering of the girl next door interrogating him, as well as his admission that he "had seen her in her underwear." The girl angrily dismissed him, and Gwen could hear his retreating footsteps. 

Natalie returned a moment later, holding a pair of black lace panties and something made of white mesh. "Did I miss something?"

"Oh, I stepped out to ask you a question, but it turned out it wasn't you," Gwen replied innocently, but her sister saw no remorse in her eyes. 

Natalie smiled to convey the message that she was not buying that it had been accidental. "Here. Try these on."

Gwen took the panties and slid them up her legs, mildly amused to find the underwear covered more than the thong she was already wearing, and continued to model the outfit at her sister's request. 

"I think you'll get fucked within an inch of your life if you wear that for Tim," Natalie announced as she began to pull her t-shirt over her head.

"Natalie!" Gwen looked around nervously, afraid somebody might hear, and moved to the corner of the cubicle to give her sister some room to undress. From where she stood, she could see almost to where the man had been standing...she wondered if he might come back.

Her sister continued to undress until the only thing remaining was a thong every bit as small as Gwen's. The practically nude woman grabbed for the other item she had brought in, quickly putting it on to reveal a teddy that made her think it was made out of the same material as one of Tim's fishing nets. Nipples poked obscenely through the mesh which struggled to contain the breasts they sat on, while Natalie picked and prodded at her crotch, trying to get the garment to lay flat. Satisfied, she removed her hand and turned to the garter-clad woman. "Well?" 

Gwen quickly saw the teddy was form-fitting, almost perverted in how it showed more than it hid. The crotch of the garment appeared to be ripped until she realized it was designed that way to allow quick access to the wearer's sex. A small tuft of hair poked through the mesh holes just above the gap. "It's very racy," was all she could offer. "I'm sure Adam will love it."

"Who said it was for him?" Natalie replied in a voice that made it unclear whether she was joking. She was the first to dress again, leaving Gwen standing in the corner by the open door, the near exposure fueling the woman's imagination. 

Both eventually made their way up front to complete their purchases. "Sorry about the gentleman in the changing area," the clerk said apologetically. "He wasn't supposed to be there, but sometimes we don't realize they are..." 

"That's alright," Gwen replied as she looked around, relieved that the couple had left. "Boys will be boys."



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 12



(This story takes place in a fictional world. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.) 

*

Alison listened patiently as she was briefed by her mother that Thursday evening, nodding agreeably about the importance of checking the barn doors prior to lights out before shooing her parents into their SUV and on the way to Gulf Shores. Traffic was lighter than expected, and even with a leisurely stop for dinner, the couple found themselves pulling into the semi-circle entryway of the Gulf Gold Resort and Spa before midnight. 

"Every bit as glitzy as KD said it was," Tim murmured as the valet pulled away with their truck. Gwen nodded and looked about the opulent lobby, hoping to catch a glimpse of her daughter. She knew KD's next shift would not be until the morning, but she still hoped with a mother's optimism that her daughter might appear. 

"Nelson, checking in," Tim announced to the young clerk currently behind the massive marble-topped front desk. 

"Oh yes, KD's parents. We've been expecting you. Your daughter has instructed us to treat you as just above VIP status," the cocoa-skinned woman said with a smile. "She also asked if you would meet her for breakfast at the hotel's café tomorrow morning, around 7, before her shift starts?" The woman signaled for a bellhop and handed Tim a packet of information. "John will show you to your room. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. As I said, KD has made it clear to all of us that your wish is our command!"

The bellhop, the Nelsons, and their bags rode the elevator to the sixth floor, where they were shown an elegant oversized room complete with sitting area. John was tipped and sent on his way, and the couple quickly unpacked before getting ready for bed. Tim was dismayed to find Gwen had brought along one of her old nightgowns and was even now retiring to the bathroom to put it on, but he said nothing, knowing that no good could come from it. His wife, however, returned to find him completely nude, apparently unconcerned they were in a strange hotel room. 

Gwen found herself wishing she could lose the nightgown and be more like her husband, but tradition said that extra care must be taken in strange places. What if there was a fire? She smiled at the grim humor of being down in the parking lot, naked in front of all those strangers, but she dismissed it and fell asleep with the now-restrictive gown still covering her. 

She showered and dressed the next morning before Tim had even awoken, quietly sliding open the slider to their privacy-screened balcony and stepping outside. A beautiful view of a strand of beach with the waters of the Gulf beyond, just now sparkling with the first light of sunrise off to her left, greeted her. Gwen knew that the room must have been very expensive, and reminded herself to admonish Tim for the extravagance. 

She startled as a pair of hands wrapped around her waist while lips kissed her neck. "G'morning," Tim mumbled in her ear. 

Gwen turned to face him and return the kiss, his flaccid length dragging across her hip as she turned. "Tim!" she shrieked as she pushed the naked man backwards through the open doorway. "What if someone sees you like that?"

"They'll look at the beautiful woman I'm with and be jealous because I was about to get lucky. Would they be right?" 

Gwen closed the door and curtain behind her. "You're going to get us kicked out of here and KD fired," she grumbled. "No time for 'getting lucky' right now. Go take a shower and get changed so we can go down to breakfast and see our daughter, or have you forgotten why we're here?" 

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," Tim replied airily, "but I think there's room for more than one reason to be here." Still, he complied with her wishes and the couple made their way down to a table outside of Lolabelle's to sit and have coffee while they awaited their daughter's arrival. 

KD breezed onto the terrace on time, the trio exchanging greetings and hugs while a waitress hurried up to the table, ready to take their order. 

"So, did you guys have anything you wanted to do while you were here?" their daughter asked as she took her first sip of coffee. 

"Not really," Tim answered. "Sit by the pool, walk on the beach, typical old-fogey tourist stuff."

"We know you have to work," Gwen said hurriedly, "but we were hoping we could at least have dinner with you?"

"Absolutely! How about here tonight? The chef is really good, and I get my resort discount."

That's fine with us. How about tomorrow night? Do you have a favorite place you would want to go?"

"Well, there's The Trellis, a couple of miles from here, but they're really expensive. Appetizers start at eighteen bucks. I don't think I could afford it."

"Of course you can't afford it!" Tim snorted. "If you could, we'd make you pay your own way through college. We've got dinner tonight and tomorrow." KD gratefully accepted, and she chattered away, giving her parents a list of things they might want to see or try. 

"Oh and by the way, the hotel has two pools—a family pool over on the far side of the property, and an adults-only one just down that walk over there. The family pool can be kinda loud, but the adult can be a little more, uhh, casual. I'm not sure you'll like it Mom, so the resort's section of beach is a good place to go if it the family pool gets a little hectic for you. Wherever you go, just show the attendant your room card and they'll get you anything you need." KD glanced at her watch. "Oops, gotta go. I'll meet you back down here at 6?" 

Tim and Gwen watched their khaki-and-polo shirt clad daughter hurry off, then sat and finished breakfast as the first sun worshippers strolled by on the way to the pool or the beach beyond it. The couple took their own walk around the compound before heading back to the room to change and pick up the beach bag. 

Tim was again disappointed to see Gwen had brought a one-piece as her suit for the weekend. Still, he couldn't complain. He had seen more of his wife in the past few weeks than he ever thought he would, and with any luck, might get to see it all of her, up close and personal, later.

"Family or beach?"He asked as the elevator doors opened at ground level.

"They all looked nice, but I'm not sure I'm up for all the splashing and yelling at the family pool," Gwen reasoned. "I wonder why KD tried to warn me away from the adults-only one? It seemed perfectly fine when we checked it out after breakfast." She thought for a moment. "Let's try the adults-only, and if we don't like it, we can head for the other one and go to the beach after lunch." Tim led the way, and soon they were standing next to an umbrella-covered table and chairs, attendants anxiously buzzing around them with towels and offers of refreshments. 

Gwen scanned the expansive pool deck before removing her wrap. The few hotel guests that had arrived so far represented a wide range of shapes and sizes, most of the men clad in shorts while the women wore bikinis of varying colors and styles. Her gaze swept across a far corner, then snapped back. Two women lay semi-reclined, faces looking up into the morning sun. What she had taken to be bikinis were actually tanlines. Their tops had been discarded, and thin strips of fabric peeked out from the junction of their thighs, nothing but string sitting high on their hips to hold it in place. The Lady sat open-mouthed on her shoulder, aghast at their shamelessness. They must know everyone could see them, and yet they lay there without a care on the world. Gwen looked about as discretely as she could, half expecting to see all of the men staring at the display at the other end of the pool. To her surprise, it seemed as if nobody even noticed—even Tim was putting on a good show of appearing engrossed in his book. Now she understood why KD had tried to steer her away from here, and thought that perhaps the other pool was the safer place to be after all.

No, Gwen told herself, if they're not embarrassed and uncomfortable, why should I be? If they want to advertise themselves that way, it's not my problem. She sat down and leaned back, book open but unread as her sunglass-covered eyes furtively darted about looking for any signs that the nearly-nude women might come to their senses, or that hotel management might ask them to cover up. Instead, the women casually flipped from front to back, the string running between their cheeks making it evident fabric was not a major contributor to the price of their swimwear. Trips to the pool for cooling dips made their breasts glisten while the wet patches of fabric between their legs molded obscenely to their sexes. 

As the morning wore on brevity became the norm rather than the exception, tops discarded by many of the female guests while bikini bottoms and less at least allowed them to pretend they were not completely naked. Men came in with scandalous swimwear as well, tiny briefs that accentuated as much as hid the packages between their legs. 

Gwen thought she caught Tim looking at the female flesh on display once, but the Slut assured her he was just taking a break from his reading, and there weren't many places he could look without getting an eyeful of oiled up boobs. She knew she couldn't get too upset with him if he had been, as she had occasionally found herself studying the bulges of several men she had to admit were rather handsome, idly wondering if all penises looked like her husband's, and if the briefs the men wore made them look larger than they really were. 

She stood and stretched just before lunch. "I'm going up to the room for a minute," she announced as she adjusted her wrap about her. 

Tim looked up from his book. "I can go with you."

"No, you stay here. I'll be back. Order us some lunch—you know what I like."

Tim grumbled in agreement, wishing she would have invited him to accompany her and perhaps spend some time together while there. The sight of mostly-naked women all around him had inflamed a growing need for release. Plenty of time for that later, he reminded himself, a little worried that Gwen's overactive sense of modesty in her daughter's hotel was not going to allow her to make the time he was hoping for. 

She made her way to the elevators, avoiding the lobby because of her lack of clothing despite wanting to at least glimpse KD at the front desk and maybe wave. Besides, she was on a mission, a decision she had made before leaving the pool. 

Gwen returned twenty minutes later. 

"I ordered you a salad and a seltzer—" Tim looked up to watch his wife remove her wrap and reveal skin, more of her skin than he had ever seen in public before, the bikini that had been reserved for their swims at home now on display to the other poolgoers. 

"I thought I looked like a grandmother out here," she mumbled. "Am I showing too much?" 

"No, no, it's fine," Tim quickly assured her. "There's much, much more being shown out her today," he added in a low voice, instantly regretting his choice of words. The last thing he wanted was for his wife to know he had been looking...

Gwen smiled. "So you noticed?"

"I noticed, but one of it compares to you."

She rolled her eyes and settled into her chair, self-consciously crossing her legs and arms. 

KD stopped by shortly after their lunch had arrived. Gwen quickly covered up, but not before their daughter did a double-take at her mother's choice of swimwear. She said nothing, instead ensuring all their wants and needs were being taken care of before hurrying back to the front desk. Gwen in turn worried what her daughter might be thinking of her mother's immodesty, and wondered if she had let her new attitude take her too far. 

The couple spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between the sun and the shade, Gwen daring to enter the pool twice despite the Lady warning her a wet suit might reveal something, the Slut hoping it would. Constant monitoring of the crowd revealed several discrete glances cast in her direction, including some by a couple of the handsome men she had been admiring earlier.

Much to Tim's satisfaction, a quick lovemaking session followed their return to the room that afternoon. Despite his efforts, Gwen's nerves prevented her climax, thoughts more on whether the door was locked and curtains drawn rather than the feel of his hands. She did her best to hurry him to his own orgasm, then dressed and napped before they began preparations for dinner. 

"I believe my daughter made reservations, Nelson, party of three?" Tim said as they stood in front of the hostess station at Lolabelle's. 

""Oh yes, KD's parents. Follow me, please." The tall blonde led them to a table overlooking the beach where the last of the sun worshippers were trudging up towards the hotel. "Danielle will be your server, and she'll be along shortly. Enjoy your meal!" 

KD slipped into an empty chair as soon as the hostess left the table. Danielle appeared a moment later, and the drink order seemed to be at the table seconds after it had been placed. "A beer for you sir, a glass of wine for you, ma'am, and diet soda for you, KD," Danielle said with a smile. "No underage drinking here, especially by the employees." The two girls laughed, sharing an inside joke. "And the bartender sends, with his compliments, two pomegranate martinis." 

"Those are the house specialty, everyone up and down the beach comes in for them," KD told her parents. "At least, from what I've seen." 

Tim gave her a knowing smile. "I'm not much on fruity drinks," he said, pushing his over to Gwen. "maybe your mother would like mine?"

"You know I'm not much on drinks at all," Gwen demurred, "but I do like pomegranates..." she took a small sip from her glass. "That's pretty good," she admitted. "I can't taste any alcohol. KD, please thank your friend for the drinks and for making them so weak." She took another sip.

The family ate a leisurely meal, her parents listening to KD's stories of life at the resort, of all the gossip and minor celebrity watching. KD in turn watched in amusement as her mother worked her way through the cocktail as well as her wine before tackling Tim's martini. She discretely signaled Danielle for another when she noticed how quickly her mother was working through the one in front of her. 

Gwen smiled at the glass that seemed to magically appear and began to rock a bit. Maybe there's a touch more liquor in these than I thought, she decided. Her skin tingled and extremities numbed while a feeling of well-being lightheartedness enveloped her. Thoughts, nasty thoughts, began to run through her mind, despite her daughter sitting next to her. Maybe tonight was the night to take Tim down to the beach...

"Dad, you might want to take Mom back up to the room," KD said with a little laugh after the plates had been cleared. "I think she really enjoyed the pomegranate martinis."

"My compliments to the bartender," Gwen slurred as she concentrated on raising the mostly empty glass. "These would be better at breakfast than orange juice!" 

"Uh-huh," KD grinned. The trio rose. "Stop by the front desk when you two get up. We can make plans for tomorrow night." Mother and daughter hugged, KD getting a heartfelt "I love you," whispered in her ear before Tim gently guided his wife towards the nearest set of elevators. 

Gwen hummed to herself as they ascended the six floors, wobbling and grabbing the rail every time she closed her eyes. The doors opened, and Tim led her to their room, gently holding her arm as she entered. 

She turned to him as soon as the door was closed. "I got an idea. Let's go down on the beach and do it!" 

Tim smiled. "By 'it', I'm guessing you mean have sex?"

"Of course," she purred, wrapping her arms about his neck. "Just like in the movies."

"The movies don't show what happens when you get sand on the moving parts. Besides, it just got dark, so there's probably a lot of people still walking out there, and besides, I'm not sure you'd make it that far."

Gwen pouted. "What do you mean, make it that far?"

"I mean, you're drunk like I've never seen you before, and I think you're gonna crash pretty soon and pretty hard. I don't want to have to carry you back."

"Don't be silly!" She thought a moment, then took a step back from him. "Well, OK, then." Fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. Her husband smiled and began to help while she that task to him and began to work on her slacks, nearly falling over as she pushed them down along with her panties. Tim gently pushed her backwards into an awkward shuffle until she was standing at the end of the bed, dressed in nothing more than her bra while she tried to work out the logistics of pulling her shoe-covered feet through the puddle of clothing on top of them. Tim smiled again and unhooked her brastraps with long unpracticed moves, then gently pushed her back until she fell on the bed behind her and he began to work on untangling her legs from their restraints. 

Gwen giggled as she tried to help him, her pulling and twisting doing more harm than good, one shoe being kicked off with such force that it landed on the couch ten feet away. Her ankles were freed of the fabric wrapped around them, and Gwen spread her legs wide in invitation as Tim rose from his kneeling position. "Take me," she said in her best sexy voice. 

"Not tonight, I'm afraid," he said with an effort as one of his fantasies unfolded in front of him. "I don't take advantage of drunk women." She began to protest, but Tim cut her short. "I will take one liberty, though." Dropping to a knee, he bent forward and gently kissed her sex, dragging his tongue through her furrow before flicking it across her waiting clit.

"Oooh, you shouldn't do that," she breathed, closing her legs to his advances.

"And why not?" 

"Because...well, because it makes me think of some things I'd rather forget."

"Like?"

Gwen hesitated, the Lady groggily trying to counter the effects of the martinis on her judgement. "Like, it's something Miss Ritter and I did to each other."

Tim rose and moved to sit beside her, hand casually smoothing the skin of her stomach. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I guess that must have been terrible for you."

"Well...see...that's the problem. I know I told you then that I didn't like it, but...I did. I did kinda did like it. I know I shouldn't have, but I did." She closed her eyes and turned her head in shame. 

"Oh. I see. So, why shouldn't you have liked it?"

"Because I wasn't married, and we were both girls, and...it made me feel so slutty, doing what she told me to do, and I liked feeling slutty. You must think I'm horrible." The distraught woman turned away and curled up in a fetal ball while Tim lay down and wrapped his arm around her.

"I don't think you're horrible at all. I think you were just finally experiencing things you never could when you were living at home. Do you regret giving that up to marry me?"

"No! I loved you more than anything then, and I love you even more now. But the things she made me do, they made me feel so wicked, so sexy..."

"Things like what?" 

Gwen sniffled. "We touched each other, and used sex toys, things like that. Really perverted things." 

Tim hugged her. "Well, I don't think you're the first to do that kind of thing, and like it. I'm sure lots of girls do something similar. You know, experiment and all that."

Gwen sighed deeply. "For a long time, I thought I was the only one, that I was really sick, but..."

"But what?" 

Gwen lowered her voice to a drunken, quivering whisper. "Natalie told me she's done it with a girl, too. More than one. And she still does! But only one now, and not all the time." 

"Really? Does Adam know?"

She nodded urgently. "Uh-huh. She says he likes it. And she says she loves him, but what she does with Liz is just something best friends do, making each other feel good."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 12



"Huh. What do you think about that?"

I guess it sorta makes sense, I mean I understand the whole feeling good part. I don't get how Adam can be OK with it, though. She's having sex with somebody that's not her husband! Wouldn't you be mad with me if I did that?"

"Hard to say...depends on the circumstances, I guess." 

Her silence and measured breathing told him she was beginning to slip into an alcohol-aided slumber. Gwen didn't remember him pulling the blankets over her. "Sleep well, I love you," he whispered, and kissed her forehead, doing his best to ignore the erection swinging between his legs as he climbed in next to her. 

A knock on the door the next morning sent Tim scrambling for a pair of shorts. Gwen was startled awake by the noise, instinctively pulling the covers about her body to hide her nightgown. The realization she was not wearing it arrived at the same time her head exploded in pain. She lay deathly still, hoping whoever was at the door wouldn't see what was under the covers while she prayed the throbbing between her temples would stop. 

Through the covers pulled over her head she heard the voice of a young man. "Your daughter sent this up with her compliments."

"Thank you," Tim replied hurriedly, "and thank KD, for us, please." There was silence followed by a murmured "thank you," and then the door gently closed. 

"The card says your daughter thought you might need some things this morning," Tim said. "Looks like she sent up some coffee, bottled water, toast, aspirin...speaking of which, I'm guessing you're having your first-ever hangover?"

"I'm dying," she croaked from underneath the pile of blankets. "This is horrible. Never again." Even the sound of her voice made her head pulse angrily. 

"Welcome to the club," Tim laughed softly. "At least you didn't throw up last night."

Gwen wanted to tell him that it was not yet out of the question, but to speak would only make the drumming in her head worse. Presently she heard the sound of a cup being placed on the nightstand next to her head. "Try and drink some water and take some aspirin. I've left coffee for you, but it might be a little early for that. Sleep as long as you want. I'm going to stop by the desk and thank KD in person, then go down and read by the pool. I know how important a quiet room can be to recovery, so relax, and call my cell if you need anything. Love you." A hand softly pushed against the covers over her hip, and a short time later, the door opened, then closed. 

Despite his advice, it still took Gwen a half hour to muster the strength and courage to sit up long enough to down the two bottles of water on the stand while gulping down the aspirin. Coffee was out of the question, and she gingerly laid her head back down, falling asleep despite the pounding in her head. 

She awoke some time later, feeling better. Not great, but better. Gwen slowly raised herself to a sitting position, carefully gauging her head's reaction to the change in elevation, before standing up. She briefly thought about grabbing her robe from the closet, but decided it was too far to go just yet. Gingerly she made her way to the cart at the end of the bed where more water, toast and a carafe of coffee sat. 

Numbly she poured herself a cup of the black liquid and sat on the edge of the bed. Although the liquor had dulled her memory of the previous evening, her confession was clear enough in her head. "He must be furious," Gwen moaned, although her fogged recollection had not recalled that he had been. She wanted to call Natalie, to ask her advice on how to make this up to the man she loved more than anything in the world, but knew her sister could not tell her anything she didn't already know. Her next conversation should be with her husband.

A knock on the door was quickly followed by the call of "housekeeping" and the sound of a card being dragged through the electronic lock. Gwen froze, her mind unable to decide how to avoid spilling the coffee while running for cover. "Please wait—I'm not decent!" she managed to croak out softly enough to avoid aggravating her head. 

The young housekeeper never heard the please and pushed the door open. Looking up, she saw a naked woman standing at the end of the bed, a cup of coffee in her hands and a look of shock on her face. "Sorry, sorry," she cried softly, averting her eyes and quickly retreating. The door closed, and Gwen was left standing there, frozen in place. 

Her headache and nausea flared with the rush of adrenaline, and she dressed as quickly as her pained body would allow. Her accidental exposure to a complete stranger was absent from her thoughts as she dialed Tim's cell number. Gwen's only focus was how to make things right with her husband. 

"Hey, you're up!" Tim answered cheerfully. "Feeling any better?" 

"Yeah, I guess...Tim, can we talk?"

"Uh oh, what'd I do wrong?"

"Not you, me. Or us, I don't know. About last night. Can you come back to the room?" 

"Most everyone ties one on at some point in their lives, Gwen, it's no big deal—"

"It's not about that, well not really. Can you come back up please?"

"Sure, be right there." 

Gwen heard the sound of the key being swiped a few moments later, and fervently hoped it was not the maid returning. She was both relieved and anxious when Tim stepped through the door and took a seat on the bed next to her. "Honey, what's wrong?" 

Gwen could only look at the floor as she began. "I, uhh, said some things last night that I shouldn't have, things that I had no right to burden you with..."

"I've found liquor makes people far better at telling the truth than making up lies," he said with a smile. "You didn't say anything I would consider a burden."

"Tim, when you asked me to marry you, I told you Miss Ritter made me have sex with her. I lied about that then, both to you and myself. And now I've told the truth to both of us, and I'm not sure that was the best thing. Aren't you mad at me?"

Her husband kissed her on the forehead. "Not at all. I would much rather you tell me the truth. In fact, that's probably the first thing other than Christmas gifts and vet bills that I know you've kept from me. Anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

Gwen smiled at his breezy attitude despite her physical and mental woes. "No, nothing that I can think of right now. But I told you I had sex with a woman and liked it. I feel like I was cheating on you, with another woman no less!" 

"You married me, not her. Would you rather have spent your life with Miss Ritter?"

"No! I love you! She was just...she made me feel good...and I felt like I couldn't be blamed for feeling good. I had to do what she said. It just felt...different, forbidden...with her, like I was pulling one over on the world. And once you asked me to marry you, I knew I had straighten up and be a good wife and mother. I had been told plenty of times that the type of man who would want to marry me would not want a perverted slut." 

Tim said nothing for a long time, and Gwen feared she had angered him. "Well," he finally began, "it sounds like Natalie and Adam have had a similar issue in the past, and still do. Maybe I should ask him how they resolved it?" Gwen's eyes widened, and Tim grinned to allay her concern. "Or did you tell me something you promised you'd keep secret?" 

"No, she said I could tell you, since you're the last one in our house to not know." 

It's was Tim's turn to look surprised. "Is that so? Learn something new every day. So, it sounds like they're at peace with the whole girl-girl thing."

"I guess, yeah, although I still can't see how. I mean, how would you feel if I was doing—that--with another woman?" Gwen asked rhetorically. 

Tim smiled, but said nothing. "Cross that bridge if and when we get to it," he finally said quietly and smiled. "Hey, you know what you need? You need some sun and fresh air. Get that bikini on, and let's go for a walk on the beach." 

Gwen smiled and kissed the incredible man sitting next to her, then made her way to the bathroom where her suit still hung from the shower rod. They spent much of the afternoon walking hand in hand, not saying much, pausing only for a quick lunch. The couple returned to the hotel a couple of hours before dinner so Gwen could nap and sleep off the last traces of the previous night's excesses. 

Tim and Gwen showered and dressed, then drove the short distance to KD's apartment. They climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on the battered door sporting 218, the '2' hanging upside down for lack of another nail to hold it upright. The same woman who had checked them in Thursday evening answered. 

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, come in! Your daughter's just got home from work and is getting ready. I'm Alia, KD's roommate—well one of them."

The couple stepped through the door into a living room featuring ratty lawn furniture, empty pizza boxes and scattered bottles of liquor. "Sorry, about the mess," Alia offered, but with six of us living here, and all of us working overtime at the resort, we don't spend much time cleaning." 

"Hi folks!" KD called out cheerfully as she exited a nearby bedroom wearing a dress that Gwen would have made her go back in and change if she had still been at home. The hem lay dangerously close to the junction of her thighs, while the neckline highlighted her daughter's ample breasts and the valley they created. "I see you've met Alia—she and I share a bedroom along with another hotel employee."

"It's certainly a cozy little place," Tim offered generously. 

"Yeah, the resort owns it and the other buildings on this street to house college-break workers like us. Really cheap, and very convenient."

"Three to a bedroom!" Gwen exclaimed. "They must be good-sized rooms."

"Not really," KD allowed, "but we all fit."

"Can I see your room?"

Her daughter hesitated. "Uhh, it's pretty messy in there..." 

"Don't worry, I promise not to start cleaning."

KD could tell that her mother would not be dissuaded. "Sure, let me show you." 

Gwen stepped into a room strewn with open boxes and clothing, a pair of what appeared to be men's underwear draped over a lampshade, while a double bed and two bunk beds filled most of the floorspace. "Which bed is yours?" Her mother looked about the room, shocked that her daughter could live in these conditions, resisting the urge to start picking things up despite her promise. She could make out an open box of condoms lying amidst the debris atop a battered dresser, while a white electrical cord snaked up from beside the double bed and into the unmistakable handle of a vibrator which lay behind a pillow. Gwen thought back to Natalie's tales of college life. Her own daughter, living the same lifestyle? "So, which bed is yours?" she asked, the Lady hoping for anything but the double. 

"We just, uhh, take whatever's open when we come home," KD offered. 'The double usually goes first, then the bottom bunk. At least one of us usually has a late or overnight shift, so the top doesn't get used much. Well, we should get moving if we want to make our reservation," her daughter suggested, anxious to avoid any further scrutiny of her living conditions. 

The Trellis was every bit as good as KD had promised. Gwen stuck with seltzer for the evening, a fact not lost on her smiling daughter. "Mom, something about you is different," her daughter finally said after Tim had gotten up to use the restroom. 

"Different?"

"Yeah, the bikini you were wearing yesterday, the martinis last night, and you didn't even say a word about how messy my apartment was. I don't mean to pry, but what's up?"

Gwen blushed. "Let's just say you're very perceptive, and that I'm beginning to think I was a little too strict with myself for a long time, which wasn't fair to you girls or your father, so I'm trying to be a little more relaxed. Speaking of the bikini, tell me the truth--was it too much? I've only worn it a few times. I can only guess that most daughters don't want their mother trying to look, well, you know, like that."

"You looked great in it, Mom! It's just I've never seen you wear anything that revealing! Even your underwear, the few times I've ever seen you in it, was not like that! Grandma must be pitching a fit!"

"Grandma doesn't know, and doesn't need to," Gwen replied drily. 

KD laughed. "Your secret's safe with me. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, but she can be a bit of a prude, y'know? Just glad you're letting up a bit on yourself."

Gwen smiled and nodded, Tim's return cutting the conversation short. The family spent another hour talking before they dropped KD off at her apartment with a promise to see her before they left the next morning. 

"I imagine you must be pretty worn out after all you went through last night and this morning," Tim said as they entered their room. The question was more investigative than sympathetic—between Gwen's confession and the sights of the pool, his libido was in overdrive and the situation was not conducive to him taking matters into his own hands, so to speak. Perhaps she had enough left to satisfy his needs...

"I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. I slept late and that nap really helped." She wrapped her arms round her husband's neck. "But if you're thinking about getting me drunk again, forget it." 

Tim smiled as his arms went about her waist. "I didn't get you drunk, the pomegranate martinis did. I like the idea, though. I can only imagine what I might find out about you this time."

Gwen's eyes popped open, a serious look behind them. "You don't have to get me drunk. I'll tell you anything you want to know without that. Just promise me you won't leave me when you hear the answers." 

"I'm not going anywhere. Bank on that." 

"I'm going to. So, do you have something you want to ask me?"

"Uh-huh. Wanna go to bed?"

"Uh-huh. I'll meet you there." Gwen broke their clinch and retreated to the bathroom while Tim sent his clothes flying before sliding under the sheets and turning off the light. The bathroom door opened and the light was turned out, plunging the room into near-total darkness. 

"Tim?"

"Yes?"

"Could you turn a light on?" 

"Of course." He quickly rolled to his side and snapped the table lamp on. Rolling back, he sucked his breath in and stared at amazement. Gwen stood at the end of the bed, dressed in the garters and bra Natalie had helped her select. "Oh my God, Gwen, you're beautiful! How did you get that into the bathroom to change into it?" Tim started to climb out from beneath the covers to go to her, but she began to crawl across the bed towards him first. 

"I didn't. I had it on at dinner." 

"You did? If I had known that, it would have driven me crazy!" 

"That's why I didn't tell you." She lay down beside him.

"I didn't even know you had anything like this." 

"Natalie and I went shopping..."

"I really need to get her a gift." 

Gwen lay herself down next to her husband. "I'd like to give you a gift."

"Me? What for?"

"For not kicking me out of the house and out of your life. I have to believe not every man's wife cheated on him with another woman."

"Sounds like at least one other couple we know is OK with it. And I don't see it as cheating." 

"Still, I'd like to do something nice for you."

"Already did. That outfit is going to be stuck in my mind for weeks." 

Gwen smiled. "Not when you're working with a propane torch, I hope. Is there anything else I can do for you?" 

You don't have to do anything, but..."

"But what?" 

"I'd really like to kiss you down there." 

She lay there for a moment, and Tim feared he had pushed too far too fast. "Alright," she finally answered, and rolled on to her back. 

Tim sat up, quickly reaching for her underwear before she changed her mind. Gwen began to work on the clasps to her stockings as soon as the panties had been pulled past her thighs, but the man now between her legs stopped her. "Leave 'em on. You look so sexy in 'em."

Gwen lay back and held her breath as Tim gently lifted each knee and pushed them out, slowly bending down to where her thighs joined her hips. She could feel his breath rustle the abundant patch of hair covering her sex, followed by a tentative kiss on the folds surrounding her clitoris. Tim flattened his body against the bed as his tongue found her opening, slowly dragging up her furrow.

Her husband worked carefully, pushing labial lips aside to bathe all the areas of skin he had never been allowed access to before, only occasionally circling and flicking the nub at the top of her slit. 

It all felt so familiar to Gwen, and yet, so different. She had never considered Miss Ritter "tender", and she remembered her oral ministrations as more practiced, more precise, using her tongue with the same attention to detail as her riding. It was if she knew exactly what Gwen wanted and when. Tim, on the other hand, was more rough, more unpredictable, more masculine. She found the contrast in techniques exciting, arousing. Even the feel of her husband's stubble against the tender skin of her inner thighs held its own thrill.

His hands eventually found their way to her bra-covered breasts, pulling the fabric down until her turgid nipples were free for him to smooth and caress. Gwen looked down at the salt-and-pepper covered head busy between her legs, and the muscular back and butt that stretched beyond it between her spread legs. The feel, the view, and the memories all combined to bring her ever closer to her climax. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, unaware her hands were now tightly gripping the back of Tim's head, forcing him deeper into her sex. Gwen panted, dim memories of Miss Ritter's admonishments after she had cried out during several of her orally-induced orgasms so long ago preventing her from voicing the soft wail building in her.

A pass of his tongue over her clit sent her over the edge, her thighs squeezed against his ears while her hands pulled him so tightly against her that his tongue was trapped and his breath stopped while she shuddered against the waves pulsing through her. Energy spent, her muscles released from their collective clench. Tim's head was released from between her thighs, and he crawled up to lightly lay on her limp body, Gwen recognizing the wetness on his lips and cheeks as her own. She kissed him weakly while she recovered. 

"Well, that was good for me," she finally breathed, "but I still owe you one in return. How would you like to finish?"

Tim smiled and stood up beside the bed, erection swinging and bobbing as he moved. Still smiling, he turned off the bedside light. In the darkness, he could see his dim shape move towards the sliding glass door. The curtain was pushed back, the room brightening despite the night skies and dark water beyond, and the door was pushed aside. Tim stepped out on to the balcony and turned back to her. "Come on out and join me."

"Are you crazy?" she hissed. "Someone will see us!" 

"I don't think so," he said in that cocky tone she knew meant he was very sure of his answer, and was most likely right. 

Gwen hesitated, really wanting to coax him back to the safety of the room where he could take her properly and without fear of discovery. The Slut pushed her shoulder. Go ahead, live a little. 

Reluctantly she stood, hurriedly popping her breasts back into her bra as some meager form of cover, and went to her husband. She brought herself in front of him, hoping he would act as a shield for her upper body while the fabric-draped railing would hide her exposed sex. Strong hands landed on her shoulders as their lips touched and forced her down until she was kneeling, the tip of his engorged staff an angry red even in the low light. Consciously she knew that anybody looking up from the beach would see a man leaning with his back to the railing, the naked woman at his feet mostly hidden by the partially enclosed balcony. Subconsciously, she thrilled at the wickedness of it all. She was going to take her husband in her mouth, let him finish there if he wanted, in plain sight of anyone who might care to look. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 12



Tim didn't give her time to contemplate the cock in front of her as his hands moved from her shoulders to the back of her head, gently pushing her forward until the spongy head of his cudgel bumped against her lips. Gwen opened her mouth and let him slide in, the insistence of his hands on her head to accept his penis exciting her even more. Despite her orgasm, she found herself wet and ready to work towards another. 

Gwen cupped and fondled her husband's sack with one hand while the other wrapped about his shaft, stroking and preventing his hips from driving him too deeply into her bobbing mouth. Still the hands held her head in place, not roughly, but she felt them, a reminder that she was not to leave until he was satisfied. 

She continued like this for several minutes, her neck and jaw tiring, telling herself she could not stop without his permission. His pace and breathing told her he would not be much longer. 

"Gwen," he grunted softly, "I'm gonna cum." 

She purred in response, excited by the way he announced his impending orgasm. 'Cum' was not a word he used in her company; 'finish' was the way he normally announced it the few times he felt the need to do so. And yet tonight she knew it was the appropriate word for what he was about to do. 

"Cumming—" he said again with a strangled grunt as the first jet hit her in the back of the throat. Gwen knew better what to expect this time, and collected the salty liquid on the back of her tongue as she did her best to control her husband's urgent thrusting. A heavy exhalation and final shudder told her he was empty. 

She smiled and swallowed as she arose, Tim holding and kissing her before she could escape. The moment over, Gwen retreated inside, anxious not to push their luck. Despite the urgings her perversion had stirred, she decided they could wait until morning, until after they had slept, when she could be satisfied more fully. Checkout was not until 10.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 13



Gwen slept soundly despite the lust her performance on the balcony had rekindled. Again she awoke before Tim, her hand briefly straying down to the junction of her legs before deciding to wait until the naked man beside her arose.

Unlike their first morning at the hotel, Tim was pleasantly surprised to find that his wife was anxious to satisfy him before they went down to breakfast. She came quickly and easily after he entered her, her hips flexing beneath him to drive her pubic bone into his, Tim filling her soon after. The couple did not relax in the afterglow and quickly began to get ready, Gwen noting with mild embarrassment the wet spot they had made on the sheets. They made it down to the café five minutes before their daughter. 

The goodbye between mother and daughter was not as sad this time; Gwen knew KD would be home for a short stay before she returned to school, and despite the luxury they had spent the last few days in, she was anxious to return to her horse and her house. 

The couple arrived home late that Sunday afternoon. Alison had left a note on the table assuring them everything had gone as planned during their absence, and that she would be over soon to catch up on their trip to see her sister. 

It was business as usual on Monday. Gwen saw the trucks off before catching up on some paperwork that had magically appeared on their day off, eventually wandering over to the house at lunchtime to get something to eat and perhaps start a load of wash. 

She had been unthinkably lazy when they had returned home the day before and had neglected to unpack their travel items. The Lady called her on her laziness, and Gwen began to sort the contents of their bags into different loads of wash and things that needed to be put away. 

Gwen stopped and smiled when she pulled out the garter, idly running her thumb along the lacy waistband while remembering the excitement in Tim's eyes when he had seen her in it. A crusted rough patch near the rose rasped against her fingertip. His semen, she decided. His cum, the Slut declared, and the nastiness of the word excited her. Gwen glanced at the closet. Perhaps now might be a good time to examine the contents of her riding boots more closely...

Gwen stripped down to bare skin before brazenly walking through the house to lock the kitchen door, just in case. Satisfied, she returned to the bedroom and pulled her boots out of the closet and put her hand in the right one. She felt the bulbous head of the Magic Wand, the Rabbit tucked neatly beside it. Something didn't seem right. The boot was emptied and Gwen reached into the left, where the enormous dildo seemed reluctant to come out of the cavity it had been stuffed in. 

Gwen stepped back and looked at the closet, a mental map forming in her head. I put the boots in that corner, I put the vibrators in the left boot and the other thing—she still couldn't bring herself to think of it as a 'dildo'—in the right... A sense of panic began to form as she searched her memory for any time she might have taken them out and put them back another way. Had Tim found them? Her mouth opened wide in horror. Had Ali? 

She stood there a moment, frantically looking back and forth between boots, closet, and toys. Why would anyone be looking in her closet? This is silly! There must be another explanation!

The sound of a car crunching up the gravel driveway snapped her out of her paralysis. Frantically, she scooped up the toys and threw them in her clothes hamper before scurrying to re-dress and greet whoever had pulled up. She had managed to pull on panties and jeans before the sound of the kitchen door being unlocked and opened echoed down the hall. Gwen quickly decided that no bra was better than no shirt, and hurriedly pulled the Nelson Plumbing t-shirt she had come in with over her head. 

"Mom? You here?" The sound of Ali's voice over jangling keys did little to sooth the panicked woman.

"In the bedroom," she called back, hurrying up the hallway. The two nearly collided as they rounded the corner by the kitchen.

"Whoops, there you are!" Ali cried as she skidded to a stop inches from her mother. "The door was locked, so I didn't think you were home." She noticed the older woman's untucked shirt and harried appearance. "Everything OK?" 

"Everything's fine," Gwen lied. "I was just getting changed to take a swim for lunch—it's so hot up in that office!" 

"I thought there was an air conditioner up there?" 

"Oh, there is, but if you forget to turn it on early, it never catches up...so, what brings you out here?"

"Just wanted to make sure you got home OK and everything was in good shape," her daughter replied, still sensing something wasn't quite right. "I can come back later—I don't let want to interrupt your swim."

"Don't be silly! I'll cool off in here just fine. Sit and have lunch with me!" The two shared tidbits of information from their weekends while Gwen busied herself at the refrigerator pulling out sandwich fixings, anxious to avoid looking her daughter in the eye.

"Mom, you seem really freaked out. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fi—Alison, were you in my closet this weekend?" Gwen blurted out as she turned to put the cold cuts on the table. She didn't want to know, but she had to. 

It was her daughter's turn to become flustered. "Oh God, Mom, yes, I'm so sorry, I was going riding and forgot my boots and the ones I left in the barn had a mouse in them and I didn't want to put them on and I knew you had some somewhere that you never used—I'm so sorry!" The young woman looked stricken. 

Gwen calmed herself and sat down. "It's alright," she soothed, patting her daughter's hand. "So, I guess you found the ones in my closet?" Her daughter nodded urgently as she reached for the bread in a desperate attempt to busy herself.

"And...I guess you found what was in them?"

Ali looked up. "God I'm sorry, I wasn't snooping, I swear—I was just going riding, honest!" 

Gwen smiled, hoping to calm her panicked daughter. "You don't have to apologize--I'm the one who's sorry, honey. You must think I'm some kind of degenerate to have those kinds of things. Of course, it's alright if YOU have them," she added hurriedly, remembering her daughter most likely still possessed some, "They were gifts--honestly, I've never used them." The older woman did her best to control her breathing and convince herself that using them only once counted as not at all. Mother again smiled at panicked daughter. "I know you have some, and I think that's great. If they make you happy and healthy, that's all I want for you."

Ali's eyes grew wide. "How did you know I..."

"I think we got our gifts from the same person."

"You mean, Aunt Natalie gave you those?"

"Uh-huh. And she told me she gave you some too, after you started asking questions about, uhh, sex. And I'm glad this came up, "Gwen said, not meaning it."I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

Alison's expression returned to misery. "I'm sorry Mom, I know the sex talk should come from your parents, I just didn't think I could talk to you about, y'know, that. You had a lot of good advice about everything else when I was growing up, but it didn't seem like that was something you felt comfortable talking about, other than telling me to find the right man and wait until marriage. That just didn't seem like how most of the other girls I knew were doing it. Daddy answered some of my questions, but there were other things I just couldn't ask him." 

Gwen smiled and hesitated. Ali talked to Tim about sex? That was news to her. "You were right, I didn't feel comfortable talking about it then, and I'm very thankful your father and Aunt Natalie was there for you. But I just want you to know that I'm there for you now too, if it's not too late. I'm getting more comfortable with the whole subject, just bear with me. But if you want to stick with Aunt Natalie, well, I understand." 

"Well, the what I found in your boots tells me you're more comfortable than I ever could have imagined. You've really never used them?" 

Gwen blushed, shocked that her daughter would ask such a personal question. "Well, maybe once," she finally volunteered. 

"Didn't you like it?"

The older woman could not believe where this conversation was heading. "If you must know, yes I did like it."

"So, why don't you use them more?" 

"I thought I was offering to help you, not the other way around," Gwen laughed softly. "I don't know. Maybe I will." 

Ali sensed she had pushed the topic far enough. "Well, thank you for your offer, and I'll definitely take you up on it the next time I have that kind of problem. But for now, I need to get back down to work. Give daddy a hug for me?" The two women rose and embraced, longer than either could ever remember. 

"I'm serious," Gwen said as they broke apart, "let me know if you need to talk about anything--anything, OK?"

Alison smiled. "I promise. The same goes for you." 

The young woman let out an explosive sigh of relief as she collapsed into the seat of her car. That had been close. It was bad enough that her mother had figured out she had uncovered her stash of sex toys; it would have been much worse if she had known her daughter and son had used them for their own amusement.

Alison and Jason slept in her parent's bedroom whenever they housesat due to the small size of the mattress in their daughter's old room; an unspoken arrangement ever since they had married. Of course, they did more than just sleep there; Jason took great pleasure in fucking their daughter in that bed, where her parents had conceived her. The act just seemed so kinky. Of course, their activities had not been confined to that one room; they had made love on the couch, on the kitchen table, by the pool; just about every place in and around the house, it seemed. 

Jason had just emerged from the shower Saturday morning after Ali had removed the boots from the closet and pulled out the Magic Wand. It did not take much coaxing to convince her that a live show was in order, and while he had watched his wife pleasure herself with her own implements of orgasm, the thought of doing so while using someone else's toys—especially her prim and proper mother's—drove him wild. Alison had taken delight in the extreme perversion as well, burying the giant black cock deep inside while the Magic Wand was pressed tightly against her clit and her husband kneeled between her open legs, stroking furiously. 

He came first, splashing his seed on the Magic Wand and the hand that held it. Ali carefully cleaned it and the other toys before they left the house on Sunday, a little worried that her mother might find traces of her son on her vibrator. When she had been confronted about the boots, she had assumed the worst. 

Alison smiled as she pulled out on to the road. Her discovery on Saturday had been a shock, to be sure. She had always considered her mother a slightly less conservative version of her grandmother; she was quite sure that searching her grandparents' house would yield no such finds. She had never had a reason to think of her parents as sexual creatures, but her talks with Aunt Natalie has shown her that there was a place for it in every healthy, happy adult, and more than anything else she wanted her parents to be happy. Dad in particular had been a concern; she knew guys "always wanted it", but if Mom wasn't giving it, was he finding it somewhere else? Ali couldn't bear the thought of her father cheating on her mother. So, to find that Mom might have a sexual side to her after all was a pleasant surprise, and their conversation convinced her she had to help however she could with its nurturing. Her drive back into town was filled with the debate as to how to do so and how much to tell her younger sister. 

Gwen's mind raced as the car disappeared down the driveway. Hew own daughter had discovered her secret—not her 'big secret', the Slut assured—but enough to hint that her mother might not be so proper and ladylike as the world was led to believe. 

The Lady quietly suggested that perhaps the toys should be discarded, but Gwen dismissed the suggestion—it would be rude to throw away a gift, she reasoned. Besides, if Natalie and her daughters could have them, why couldn't she?

Gwen returned to the bedroom to retrieve and hide what she had thrown in the hamper. The sight of her bra lying on the floor where she had dropped it reminded her it had been omitted during her rush to dress. She smiled and stooped to pick it up before pulling the t-shirt over her head. The adrenaline of almost getting caught was just now beginning to fade, and the topless woman had to admit, the whole episode had a roller-coaster ride feel to it—scary while it was happening, a mix of excitement and relief when it was over. Being caught naked, especially under the circumstances she had been in that condition for, had always seemed like one of the worst fates imaginable; it surprised her to find it was now a thrill as well. She paused for a moment, bra in hand, looking at the hamper. With a wicked smile, Gwen made her way back to the kitchen door and locked it, this time holding her shirt against her chest as a bow to modesty, before retreating to her bedroom and shucking off her jeans. 

The naked woman retrieved the items from the hamper and lay down on the bed after plugging in the wand. Gwen closed her eyes while her fingers combed her curly thatch of hair. Unbidden, a thought entered her mind. She knew from the faint smell of perfume when she had changed the sheets the day before that Ali and Jason used their bed while they were gone; had the bed been used for something more than sleeping? A part of her knew it probably had, while another part screamed of the taboo implied. An image of her daughter lying naked under her equally naked son flashed brightly before she dismissed it with embarrassment. Jason was certainly a handsome young man, but way off-limits for her to think about that way. With only a little concentration, her fantasy switched to the resort's pool, and the nearly nude people around it. Only now, she was one of them. Her top lay discarded on the table beside her while men in tight briefs openly ogled her. Gwen did nothing to discourage them, instead opening her legs for their viewing pleasure, her fabric covered mound on full display to her audience. 

Gwen imagined the packages growing in their tights until bright-pink heads began to muscle their way above the waistbands. She reached for the very real black dildo and positioned it between her legs, the tip nestled between her lips. She doubted she could manage much more than the head in her, and pushed gently. The crown slid in with a soft pop as her opening stretched enough to allow the rounded tip access before tightening around it beyond the flare of the corona. The vibrator buzzed angrily as she applied more pressure and evaluated the object resting just inside her. Cautiously she continued pushing as her opening grudgingly relaxed to accept the massive girth. Gwen felt filled up, not painfully, but in a stretched-open, nerve-tingling sort of way. The Magic wand continued its assault on her clit as the first of her fantasy men lowered his briefs and began to stroke a rod at least as big as the one buried inside her.

Her thoughts returned to her son against her will. If Ali had seen her toys, had Jason? The embarrassment of this potential exposure caused her to gasp, the pool and the men about it now gone from her thoughts. 

The roller coaster ride began yet again, the feeling of not knowing a nerve-wracking ascent to the crest of the hill . Alison would never dare show him anything like that! Would she? Panic began to rise in her. Did she dare ask her daughter if he had seen them? If he had, what did he think? 

Worry about it later, the Slut advised. Right now you've got a penis inside of you. She accepted her imagination's efforts to return her to the pool. All of the men had by now lost their suits, each openly stroking an impressive erection. Gwen smiled and winked at them, pulling her bottoms aside to show them the sex they wanted to bury themselves in. 

The length currently residing there was pulled in and out with force, rubbery testicles slapping her bottom before retreating for another stroke. Her climax began to build, releasing as the men spurted one after the other, majestic streams of pearl-white sperm arching impossibly high before splashing on the hot concrete. The very real dildo was slammed into her one last time while the vibrator ground her clit. 

Her orgasm was brief, panic over what Jason might know and guilt over not caring enough to stop what she had been doing quickly overcoming the ebbing waves of her climax. She had to ask Alison about it. She just didn't know how. 

Natalie arrived promptly at 10 that Friday morning, anxious to ride and hear more the details of her sister's weekend away. Gwen did her best to gloss over her inebriation and other naughty bits, instead regaling Natalie with stories of the opulence, food, and 'quality time with Tim and KD'. 

"Did you wear the outfit we put together for you?" 

Gwen smiled despite herself. "Uh-huh."

"And?"

"And he liked it." 

"Liked it? That's it?" 

"He loved it. It made us both a bit more...adventurous."

"Like how?"

Gwen knew she should not be sharing something this intimate, this wicked, but she couldn't resist. "He insisted on kissing me down there, and I liked it so much, I, umm, returned the favor. Out on the balcony." She risked a peek over at her sister to see he mouth wide open.

"Are you serious? You slut!" The excitement in Natalie's eyes told Gwen that word was a compliment and not a slur. "Anything else?"

Gwen turned serious. "Well, yes. I, uhh , told Tim about you and Liz, and...me and Miss Ritter."

"Good for you. Was that before or after he licked your pussy?" 

"After, I guess," Gwen replied, shocked by the coarseness of the question. 

Natalie grinned. "So, I guess he wasn't too upset about your little revelation?"

"No, he wasn't. He was very understanding, and said he felt bad I didn't have more of a chance to experiment when I was growing up, and that he was sure I wasn't the first to do something like that." 

"Mm-hmmm." The women tied the horses to nearby trees and made their way to the nearby picnic table. The busty blonde pulled off both t-shirt and bra in one motion, letting the breeze dry her sweat-dappled skin. Gwen hesitated then followed suit, blouse and bra laid close by where she could grab them if needed. Natalie smiled in approval, then leaned back on her hands and closed her eyes.

"Did you cum?"

"Excuse me?"

Eyes still closed, she repeated it a little more slowly. "When he licked your pussy, did...you...cum?"

Gwen blushed. "I guess."

Natalie briefly opened her eyes and smiled. "Told ya it's not just a girl-on-girl thing." Her eyes closed again, but the smile remained. The pair sat in silence, listening to the gentle breeze waft through the pines above. Neither spoke or moved for a quarter of an hour, both lost in their thoughts.

"You know, Alison found the things you gave me." 

Natalie laughed. "I'm surprised she still snoops. I would have thought she would have given up after all those years of not finding anything. Did she tell you they looked familiar?"

"What do you mean, still snoops? She told me she was looking for my riding boots and found...my things. Are you implying she used to go through the house looking for stuff I hid? What did she tell you?"

"She never told me anything about doing anything like that. I just think most kids do...hell, I remember finding fur-lined handcuffs and a spreader bar in my parents' room once. And I'm pretty sure both of my kids have found some things that gave them more information about me and their father than they may have wanted to know. So, did she freak out? Did you?"




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 13



Gwen thought for a moment. "She seemed as embarrassed as me...but I think she was alright with it. And I told her where they came from. But Natalie, Jason was here with her last weekend. What if he saw them?"

The blonde woman laughed again. "What if? Probably just more material for his file on you in the stroke bank." 

"Stroke bank?" 

"Stuff to get the engine into overdrive when he's making the spitting cobra mad." Natalie could see her sister was still confused. "When he masturbates." 

Gwen covered her open mouth in horror. "You can't mean that he actually thinks about me when he does that!"

Natalie nodded, looking across the valley. "I'd be amazed if he didn't. An older, equally sexy version of his wife? A woman who has never revealed the slightest hint of sexuality publicly, but has a 10" black dildo? Face it, you're his mother and a MILF, and he can't have either. Guys really get off on what they can't have or shouldn't see."

"Oh my God, I'll never be able to face him again..."

"He's the one who'll probably be embarrassed. He's the one who's thinking of you in compromising positions, not the other way around. You've probably never even thought of him naked, although I must admit I have, and it's a pretty nice thought. I've seen enough in real-life to guess he has a very nice ass and cock. Anyways, maybe he didn't see them. Just ask Alison."

Gwen was shocked by her sister's admission that she had imagined him that way, but stayed with the issue at hand. "I want to, but how do you bring up a subject like that?"

"Want me to ask?"

"No, no," Gwen sighed. "No more hiding from this type of thing. She's my daughter, but she's also an adult. I need to be able to talk about this with her."

"Who knows? Maybe she's not even the one who was snooping. Maybe Jason took up the hobby." 

Gwen shrieked. "You're not helping!"

"Sorry, sorry," Natalie laughed. "Hey, we should head down so the wine is out of my system before work."

The women reluctantly made their way to the horses. Natalie did not bother to redress, and Gwen felt a challenge, a challenge which she accepted. Topless, she swung herself back into her saddle, shirt and bra hanging from the horn. Together, they made their way back down to the barn.

Natalie showed no signs of putting her shirt on as they approached the clearing above the barn, and Gwen began to anxiously look through the trees down towards the shop, wondering if she could see any of the trucks from here. Riding down the hillside topless had been one thing; riding to where some of the boys might see her was quite another. Still, she played the dangerous game of chicken, only partially bowing to the fear by galloping from the end of the treeline into the barn. Natalie followed soon after, at a more sedate pace.

"Didn't that hurt your boobs?" She asked as she dismounted.

Gwen turned from where she was unsaddling Dart. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean you're a little bit smaller than me in the chest department, but that would have given me two black eyes and sore ribs."

"I'm a lot smaller than you," Gwen replied with a smile. "And I really didn't notice." 

"Tell the truth, it looked kinda hot, in a sexy commercial kind of way," Natalie murmured as she began work on the cinches to her saddle. "Your whole body just seems to move together when you ride, and your boobs do, too. Mine would have been flopping around like beached fish if I had done that." 

Gwen blushed. "You're a very good rider," she corrected. "And I don't think you are supposed to have any control over your breasts like that. Even Miss Ritter's used to bounce quite a bit—" she stopped and looked at the ground, embarrassed to have brought up her old boss. Natalie smiled but said nothing as Gwen remained topless while grooming Dart. Satisfied with both horses, she began to re-dress.

"Aren't we going swimming?" 

"Of course, if you'd like," Gwen replied. In truth, she had been hoping they would. 

"So, why put your shirt on if you're just going to take it off again?"

"Well, if one of the trucks come back..."

"You run across the yard and let those beauties keep pace again. C'mon. I'll go get the wine, and you go get the towels. Whether you get your suit is up to you." Natalie gave her a mischievous smile and turned to leave. 

"Towels are already up there, and I guess you're not wearing one, so I guess I don't need to either."

Natalie turned and looked back as she kept walking. "I like the way you think." 

Gwen hurried across the yard in as quick a walk as she could manage, shirt and bra at her side in case of surprise. Natalie joined her at the pool to find her still dressed from the waist down, nervously looking about. She opened the bottle with practiced hands and poured into two plastic cups she had brought before kicking off her boots, looking over in time to see Gwen following her lead. Jeans and underwear were next, a quick check of her sister showing she was still only a little behind. 

Natalie was in the pool first, jumping in with a splash while Gwen sat on the hot tile surrounding the lip and slipped over the side. Both women bobbed for a bit before Natalie made her sister get out to retrieve the wine. 

"Your anniversary is coming up soon, isn't it?" 

Gwen nodded. "Soon I guess, yes."

"What are you getting for Tim?"

"Oh, I don't know, something for his boat, maybe..."

"Huh..."

The pair swam and floated for quite a while, the talk centered around the comings and goings of the kids, Gwen marveling at how comfortable she had become with being naked outside with someone else. The sky isn't falling, she admitted. I could get used to this. 

"Well, time to get a move on." Natalie climbed from the pool, Gwen watching with an interest she couldn't quite explain as her naked body emerged, glistening, from the water and began to dry herself. The feeling wasn't overtly sexual, but the scene was beautiful, like admiring an artistic photograph. The spell was broken only when her sister began to pull scrubs and underwear from a duffle bag. 

Natalie was mostly dressed when Gwen reluctantly emerged from the water and wrapped herself in a towel. 

"So we'll see you guys on Sunday?" 

Gwen nodded. Family dinner at her parents. A chance to see Alison, not that there would be any privacy for asking the question she needed answered. 

"Great. I'll take your side if your mother starts to pick on you if you take mine?" Natalie smiled and hugged the towel-wrapped woman. "Love you. Be safe."

"Love you too," Gwen mumbled and watched as she pulled out of the yard and down the driveway. She sat another twenty minutes out on the pool deck after the car was out of sight, towel loosely wrapped around her, lost in thought.

She was back up at the pool a few hours later, this time dressed in a bikini, sitting with Tim and watching the gathering dusk. Despite the late afternoon heat, the suit still felt damp and clingy against her skin after their swim. She laughed to herself at how quickly she had grown to embrace swimming au naturel, how she had never noticed how annoying a wet suit could be until she had gone without. 

"Tim?"

Her husband opened his eyes. "Hmmm?"

"Have you ever not worn a bathing suit up here? You know, skinnydip?"

He smiled. "Occasionally. Why?"

"How come you never told me?"

"I didn't think you would be interested. Why do you ask?"

"Have you ever gone skinnydipping with someone else?" 

"Well, to tell the truth, Cliff and some of the apprentices will occasionally come up here after work if you're not home, and I've joined 'em a couple if times. And you still haven't answered my question yet. Why do you want to know?" 

A brief image of 'her boys' in the pool flashed through her mind before she answered. "I was just wondering if you thought it would be weird if I did..."

"Out of character, yes. Weird, no. Would I encourage you? Hell, yes. Why the change of heart?" 

"I just...like the freedom...I guess..." 

Tim eyed her suspiciously. "It sounds like you already have."

Gwen blushed and looked at her hands. "Guilty. Not much, though," she added quickly. "Natalie doesn't wear a suit when we go swimming after we ride, and the past couple of times she convinced me I didn't need to either." 

Tim's cock began to stiffen at the thought of both his wife and sister naked in the pool just a few feet away. "Well, good for you. So, how come you skinnydip with Natalie, but not with me?"

"I wasn't sure how you'd feel about it," she stammered. "Natalie made it very clear." 

Tim smiled but said nothing, instead rising and walking over to the edge of the pool, his back to Gwen to hide his growing erection. Pushing his shorts down in one move, he smiled over his shoulder and stepped into the water. Surfacing, he turned back to the laughing woman. "Feels pretty good. Now you."

Gwen smiled and moved to where her husband stood in chest-deep water. Tim looked up at a unique view of Gwen removing her top and bottoms before sitting down on the edge to slide in. His hands were on her hips before she could move and the naked woman was gently lifted into the water. 

The couple spent the next ten minutes in an embrace, Gwen's legs eventually finding their way around his waist while her arms were wrapped about his neck. Tim's erection renewed despite the chill and was soon nuzzling between her exposed nether lips. He began to have thoughts of carrying her from the pool still wrapped about him, lying her on the concrete, and plunging deep inside her. 

Gwen unwrapped herself from him before he could act. "Let's go inside," she murmured after one more kiss, then found her way up the stairs and to her robe. Tim followed, not bothering to cover himself as Gwen had done, erection bobbing proudly in front of him as he followed her down the hillock to the house.

Her robe was dropped as soon as she walked through the door, and Tim got an excellent view of her firm ass swishing through the kitchen and down the hall. He followed in time to see her climb on their bed and recline on her side, waiting for him to join her. 

Their foreplay was brief—neither had much need for it—and Gwen pushed her husband on his back, tossing her knee over his torso to straddle him. Their lips met while her hand reached down between them to find his member and try to line it up with her opening. Her hurried movements made her fumble for a moment, and Tim thought to help her before he felt the head of his cock slide through her lips and center on her hole. She let her hips down just a little, as if testing the connection, then sank on to his staff. Tim groaned at the feeling of her enveloping him while Gwen mashed her breasts against his chest. 

She rode him, both bodies pushing and pulling in unison, Gwen's hips driving her clit down into his pubic bone. Gwen could feel her orgasm rising and while she wanted to slow their thrusting, to delay the delicious feelings radiating from her sex, her body would not be denied. She began to slam herself into the body between her legs, hoping Tim would pick up the hint and reciprocate with his own insistent hammering. 

He did, and the combined forcefulness of their mating made her cum, body flattened against the man below her, her own hips stilled as her muscles convulsed while her husband carried on his assault. Eventually her body went limp, and Tim's thrusting slowed to a slow, gentle rhythm.

Gwen lifted her head from beside his neck. "Did you finish?"

"Not yet," he growled. "But soon." His hands gently yet firmly pushed up on her shoulders, and she thought he meant to push her off and take what was his in their traditional manner. Tim stopped her once she was sitting up though, hands going to her breasts while his hips again picked up their pace. 

Gwen watched in fascination as her husband's eyes squeezed shut, as though he were in pain, while his hands roughly squeezed her mounds of flesh. His thrusting began to lift the tiny woman off the bed, her opening sliding up his staff so far almost to turn him loose before she slammed back down on it. 

Tim's hands tightened on her hips as if to prevent her body from escaping. "Cumming in you—" he grunted through gritted teeth. 

"Cum in me," Gwen encouraged, awash in the effects of the masculine display, wanting the man she loved to have as good an orgasm as she had. "Cum in me, honey." 

The sound of his wife using that word—the woman who never said 'hell' without apologizing—was too much. With a strangled groan, Tim drove himself deep into her while his hands gripped her so hard he left red marks. She knew that each thrust meant another pulse of his seed, her imagination seeing each ropey strand leave his angry red tip. 

The thrusts stopped, his breathing began to return to normal, and with a groan Tim rolled her onto her back, still buried deep inside her. Only then did her remove himself and lay beside her, his wet length dragging across her thigh. They stayed that way for quite a while before Gwen finally rose and made her way to the bathroom. She came out several moments later, still nude, and to Tim's surprise kept walking past the bed and out of the room, coming back only after she had retrieved her robe and locked the kitchen door.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 14



(This story takes place in a fictional world. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.) 

*

Tim and Gwen swam after the chores were completed that Saturday. Much to her husband's pleasure, there was nothing but beautiful skin under the robe she walked up to the pool in, and he discarded his trunks as well. The couple happily splashed about for some time, their nakedness fueling their arousal until they made their way back down the house and their bedroom. 

Much of the next day was spent at her parent's house for family dinner. Gwen kept looking for an opportunity to ask Alison exactly whether Jason had seen the contents of her boots, but the lack of privacy made that impossible. She spent the afternoon certain that her son was somehow looking at her differently, as if he saw her in a different light. The Slut dismissed the thought as paranoid but made a note to save the idea for fantasy material later. To both her distress and relief, her mother treated her as she always did, and true to her word, Natalie did her best to run interference and form a united front. 

Gwen was in the office the next morning when she heard the sound of a vehicle crunching up their gravel driveway. The inventory report on the screen in front of her had her full attention, and she was late in moving away from the keyboard to investigate. The sound of a car door slamming, followed by a call of "Gwen, you up there?" echoed through the open garage bays below. 

"I am!" she replied, her mood brightening at this unexpected visit from Natalie. There was the sound of quick steps on the rough wooden stairs, and her sister's head poked above the landing. 

"Day off, out running errands," she explained as she finished her climb and hugged her sister. "Thought I'd take a chance and stop by." The two women compared notes on the previous day's gathering before Gwen suggested they walk over to the house where they could talk in more comfort.

"Thanks, but I've got a bunch of stuff to do today. I just wanted to drop this off for you—I think I know what you can get Tim for your anniversary." Natalie pushed a red leather-bound photo album into Gwen's hands. 

"It's a nice idea, but we sat for a family portrait a couple of years ago," the tiny brunette replied. "Remember? The photo you have on that table in the study?" 

"Yeah," Natalie replied slowly. "These aren't that kind of photo. Take a look." 

Gwen flipped back the heavy cover to reveal the first shot. It was of Natalie, or rather, a reflection of Natalie as she looked into a carved-oak framed mirror. Her hair and makeup were perfectly done, accentuating the woman's face rather than changing it altogether. An unbuttoned white shirt covered her shoulders while a loosely-knotted red tie contrasted against the pale skin it lay upon. 

"Oh, my." Even though there was nothing particularly lewd or obscene about this picture, it was obviously not intended for general viewing. She looked up at Natalie, who conspiratorially raised her eyebrows and glanced purposefully at the album, prompting Gwen to turn the page.

The next photo was still from behind her sister but now from a lower angle, the focus on the woman's back rather than her reflection. The shirt hung loosely, obscuring the curvaceous figure Gwen knew lay beneath, and ended just below where the curve of her butt began, the tail hanging off the firm globes like a short drape. Black high heels added a certain naughtiness. Gwen admired the shot for a moment before slowly turning the page. 

It was of Natalie from the same angle, but her hands were now on the dresser before her, bending over ever so slightly as her reflection looked back over her shoulder. The shirt rode up accordingly, just enough to expose the lower separation of her cheeks, enough to hint at a lack of underwear without confirming it. 

"I had these taken for Adam, for our anniversary, a couple of years ago," Natalie offered quietly, "it's a kind of photography called Boudoir." Gwen nodded but didn't look up, intent on the pictures she held in her hand. An urge to turn the page and see what was next fought with her desire to preserve her sister's modesty. 

With an effort, she looked up. "These are absolutely beautiful, but why...?"

"I had these taken for our anniversary," Natalie repeated, "as a gift for Adam. I thought maybe Tim would like something like this from you?"

Gwen's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, no, I couldn't do that," she demurred, pushing the open album back at the smiling woman before her. "You look incredible in these, but I could never look that good. I'd probably end up looking like a cheap prostitute or something. This just isn't something I could do."

"Does Tim like cheap prostitutes?" Natalie asked, smiling to show she meant no offense. "It's something you couldn't do before," Natalie corrected, pushing the album back. "It's something you can do now. C'mon, show your husband what a piece of ass you are. Cheap prostitute is a look I think you'd have a difficult time pulling off. Sexy as all hell wife and lover is one you'd be a natural for. Look, I got a bunch of errands to run yet, and I still have to pick up Tyler and get him to the dentist. Take a look at the photos and see what you think, then give me a call and we can start working out the details." 

"I can't keep this! Won't Adam miss it?"

"I told him I was letting a friend of mine borrow it to see what a shoot might look like. I can pick it up once you've said yes." Natalie bent forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Gimme a call once you've had a chance to look through it and have some time to talk. Remember, this is going to be a gift for Tim, so not a word to him!" 

Gwen snorted. As if she could tell her husband that she had been looking at sexy pictures of his sister! The blonde was hurrying down the stairs before Gwen could react. "But Natalie..." She stood there until her sister-in-law's car could no longer be heard. Numbly, she sat back down at her desk and again looked at the open album before her. Picking it up, she began to turn pages. Natalie moved and posed about an elegantly decorated bedroom, giving broad hints as to what lay beneath the white shirt without actually revealing it. Eventually the shirt was removed while the tie remained for a few shots more, and yet still the photos were taken in such a way to accentuate her feminine lines but not reveal the entire package, a peek of a nipple here, the tuft of pubic hair there, but still far less than what Gwen had seen in person. Mischievous grins alternated with sultry looks, her seductive qualities obvious. The last photo was of Natalie lying on the bed on her stomach, looking into the camera, the dusk of the tops of her areolae just visible above the white pillows that concealed the rest of her breasts, while the curve and separation of her buttocks were presented in softer focus behind her. 

Gwen turned the page, anxious to see more, and found a blank. She quickly turned past this, hoping it did not signal the end despite the edges of pages visible below it. She was relieved to find a new set for her viewing pleasure. 

The scene had changed, and Natalie's outfit as well. She was now outside in a flower garden profuse with blooms, trellises loaded with roses, hints of lush grass beyond. In turn, her sister now wore a shimmering forest green silk chemise, the sun and the color of her garment making her blonde tresses radiate light.

Again the photos progressed with her moving about the garden, poses hinting at much without revealing all. The chemise was eventually removed, flowers, greenery, and marble works serving as the only cover to her most secret parts. The last photo was a profile of Natalie's face while she smelled a rose. A fitting closure, Gwen decided as she flipped the photo to find the back cover. A label pronouncing this the work of "Memories By McCall, Peachtree City GA" was affixed there along with a web address. A scrap of paper with some handwriting was taped to that. 

She glanced up at the clock. An hour and a half had passed. She didn't spend that much time looking at horse show photos, she thought ruefully. Perhaps a walk over to the house to clear her head was in order. The album was carefully locked in the cabinet along with the sex toy catalog, and she wandered across the yard. 

Gwen mindlessly prepared a salad while she thought about Natalie's suggestion. She had to admit, what the album presented was beautiful and erotic, but not in a pornographic sort of way. A short time ago, she would have thought it obscene and in poor taste; now, it was a sensual representation of the sexual creature that was Natalie. 

But I could never look that good, she thought as she sat down at the table. Natalie's beautiful, I'm, well I'm just a Mom. She began to imagine herself in the outfits that Natalie had worn, in the poses that Natalie had assumed before dismissing them as wishful thinking. 

Gwen returned to the office and made the promised phone call to her sister. 

"Hey Gwen, hold on a sec." She could hear the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the sounds of traffic. "Tyler's in getting his teeth cleaned. Well?"

"I can't tell you how beautiful they are. How did you..."

"Liz suggested them. She's done some modeling for the photographer and recommended him. Barry McCall, really nice guy, it's a complete package—he's got a location he loves for these, you pick the outfits, his wife does the makeup...I was in and out in about six hours."

"They look so professional!"

"They are. Barry knows his stuff, he's done a bunch of these. So, should I call him and set up an appointment?"

"I'm flattered you think I would look good like that, and I really appreciate the idea, I really do," Gwen offered, "but I'm not model material. You've got the face and body for it, but me...I don't think so."

"Bullshit. You're hot, Gwen, just get used to it. You've just never let anybody doll you up. Barry and Sandra—that's his wife—do some pretty impressive things with women who are not half the looker you are. If you don't believe me, go to the back of the album, look up that website and use the ID and password on the paper to sign on. Barry has some of his portfolio on there, including before and after photos. I think you'll be surprised. Gotta go—looks like Tyler's coming out now. You understand I'm not taking no for an answer on this, right? Take a look and we'll talk later."

Gwen sat there a moment after the connection was broken, finally deciding that the inventory report was not going to get done on its own. She pecked away at it for ten minutes until the call of the contents of the locked cabinet overpowered her.

Again she slowly leafed through the photos, first page to last, admiring the work of this Barry McCall, grudgingly admitting that if the sexuality coming through in his work excited her, it had to have driven Adam wild. She had reached the last photo when the Slut suggested that a quick session with her toys might be in order; the Lady loudly voiced her repulsion over the fact Gwen had become like a mare in heat just by looking at lewd pictures her sister. 

She compromised by bringing up the website on the computer in front of her. A page of links to various wedding, special occasion, and senior portraits were presented, along with a link to a sign-in screen. She entered the ID and password, and screen refreshed with another category —Boudoir. 

Gwen nervously moved her pointer to the photo of a middle-aged woman dressed in a sheer robe and hesitated. She had never intentionally looked at pornography, especially on a computer, before; did this count? Would someone find out if she clicked the link? With a deep breath, she pushed the mouse button. 

The screen changed to a collection of thumbnail photos, each of a woman in some sort of lingerie, each with a name below the photo. Gwen smiled as she recognized Natalie in the bottom left, though on screen her name was Rebeccah. Even her sister occasionally displayed some caution, it seemed. Her cursor hovered over her picture, ready to click, but she stopped. She had already seen her photos; how about someone else's? The feeling that she might be invading their privacy crossed her mind before she dismissed it. They must have given their permission to be on here. How brave...Gwen knew she would not allow him to put her pictures on the website...if she were ever to allow her pictures to be taken, which she would never do.

A thumbnail of a slight, ponytailed brunette caught her eye. Anita. The woman reminded Gwen of herself, younger perhaps, but the same build and hair color. She would start there. 

She clicked, and a full-screen frontal shot of a much older woman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt appeared. It took Gwen a moment to realize that this was the 'before' Natalie had mentioned, and decided that the comparatively small size of the thumbnail must have hidden the woman's true age and looks. She clicked the button to move to the next photo. 

A woman dressed in a sheer white robe, the woman in the thumbnail, stood to the side of a large bay window, one foot on a bench while she bent over to adjust the strap on her sandal. The robe had parted to show her stockinged-leg all the way from ankle up to where the garter of the hose ended, the gown covering the skin where her inner thigh joined her hip. The top of the robe fell open enough as she bent at the waist to hint at a swell of flesh hidden in the shadows beneath. 

Gwen moved back and forth between the before shot and this one, comparing. She wanted to believe it was two different women, that is was trickery on the part of the photographer, but she knew it was not. 

The subsequent photos showed that again the model was artfully posed to obscure her most private parts, and while it became quickly evident to Gwen the woman had small breasts, smaller than her own, at no point were they ever revealed in all their naked glory. 

As with Natalie, the model discarded the robe without suffering any serious compromise of her remaining modesty. Until the last photo of the set. 

Gwen clicked, and the screen changed to a shot of the woman bent at the waist with her back to the camera, legs spread in a vee, arms resting on the sill of the bay window while she looked out to the garden beyond. The globes of her buttocks were clearly on display, and her sex would have been clearly visible between her thighs had the sunlight streaming in from the window not made the contrast between light and dark an effective cloak to her most private spot. 

She spent most of the afternoon looking through other portfolios, seeing everything from hints of the forbidden that mirrored Natalie's portfolio to women with their breasts thrust proudly at the camera and legs wantonly spread-eagled. She finally glanced at the clock and panicked a bit--the trucks would start coming back any moment. She hurriedly re-locked the cabinet with the album inside, then erased her browsing history and shut down the website. The Slut bemoaned the lack of time to take care of the itch the website had created while the Lady scolded her for wasting an entire afternoon looking at smut. 

"Isn't the air conditioner keeping up?" Cliff asked as Gwen came downstairs to greet the first crew back. "You look hot," he offered, seeing the confused look on her face.

"Oh—Oh, yes, I guess it's not. I'll have to talk to Tim about getting a bigger one." She looked at the muscular black man and flushed more as an image of him strolling across their pool deck naked and wet flitted into her mind. She took the offered paperwork from him. "Let me run this upstairs." 

Cliff watched her tight little butt move beneath the denim of her jeans as she ran up to the office. He had worked for the Nelsons a long time, and considered them both friends, but he was still a man, and had always practiced the philosophy of "look but don't touch" When it came to her or any woman other than his wife. Not that Gwen had ever given him anything out of the ordinary to look at...but still, he took in what sights he could. 

Thunderstorms and common sense prevented the couple from swimming after dinner that evening, and they instead made themselves content in front of the TV until bedtime. 

Tim was under the covers first, staring at the ceiling and planning for the next day while Gwen was busy in the bathroom. He was surprised to see emerge completely nude, carefully placing her robe at the end of the bed before climbing under the sheet and grabbing her glasses and book. 

"Not even a t-shirt?" he said with mock surprise, turning his head to look at her. 

"Do you think I need it?" she asked, face showing her concern that she might have overstepped her bounds. "I just thought that if I can be like this in the pool, I can do it here." 

He laughed while rolling on to his side. "Makes total sense to me. Still quite the change though." His hand slid under the blanket, to where he knew the soft skin of her stomach to be. 

Gwen put down her book, now confident her unspoken invitation had been accepted and she might get some relief from the itch that had never gone away after her day in the office. "It's quite the change, alright. But I have to admit, I kind of like it, not having to worry about being all proper and ladylike all the time, at least not in my own bedroom." 

"No place for proper and ladylike in my bed," Tim grumbled. "glad you finally see the light." His hand began to turn patterns on her silky skin. Gwen giggled, a sound Tim could never remember hearing before under these circumstances, and the couple's hands and lips found each other in familiar and practiced ways. 

The pressure his palm created on her mound and the gentle stroking of her slit by his fingers brought her to a rapid orgasm. Muscles tightened up and down her body, and her hand was no exception, clenching her husband's length as she fought the urge to cry out. 

She became dimly aware of Tim's manhood bulling its way through her clenched fist, sliding back and forth as much as her stranglehold would allow. Gwen loosened her grip but his hand quickly flew to hers, closing around it while his hips twitched. He lasted a few moments more, his length sawing back and forth through her closed fingers before she felt the first warm jet of his seed splash against her belly and thatch. Tim strained against her hand, grunting quietly next to her ear while he emptied himself. A final heavy sigh told her he was done. 

She rolled back to look at the pearly white streaks up her stomach and though her matted hair. They lay together for a long time, long enough for his deposit to dry. It was not washed off until her shower the next morning. 

Gwen managed to get a fair amount of work done the next few days despite the distractions locked away in the cabinet behind her. The drawer was not always locked, however, and several looks at the website were followed by masturbatory sessions, each one featuring a fantasy revolving around her modeling just as those women had. She had briefly pondered bringing the rabbit out with her to save her the transit time between office and house, but dismissed it as too risky and too slutty. Guilt followed each of her orgasms as well, but it was not enough to discourage her from logging in and starting the process again. Still, she remained noncommittal when Natalie called on Wednesday to get permission to 'set something up'.

Her sister managed to avoid bringing the topic up until they were onto the wooded path of their Friday morning ride, shirts and bras already discarded despite the cloudy weather. 

"So, you gonna let me call Barry?"

Gwen smiled and looked down at the ground passing beneath her and Dart. "Natalie, I just don't think I'd look right in that kind of picture. I mean, you know me, Miss Modesty..."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 14



"From what I've seen and heard, there's some Miss Look At Me looking for an excuse to get out. Why not let him bring that out for Tim's viewing pleasure?" 

"And that's another thing. I've just now started to get comfortable with undressing in front of my own husband. There's no way I could do that in front of a strange man!" 

"He's a professional. I'm sure he'll treat you with the same respect your doctor does. Trust me, he's seen a lot more than what you're probably going to end up showing." 

"I don't know...I'd probably freeze up if I had to walk around like that in a studio, with other people around."

Natalie could sense her resolve weakening. "We can do the shots wherever you want—even here, if you like. Where I did mine is nice, though. It's an inn outside of Peachtree—Barry knows the owners and books time there when they're not busy. I think there were only a couple of guests there when I did my shoot."

"Oh, I couldn't do that here—what if someone stopped by while I was...uhh...indisposed? And I wouldn't even know what to wear...I don't have anything like what I saw the other women wearing." 

"I'll help you pick some things out. Is that a yes?"

Gwen didn't answer for quite a while. "If—IF—I say yes, it would be under two conditions."

Natalie did her best to hide her excitement. "And those would be?"

"You have to make the arrangements—there's no way I could ever call this man and ask him to take pictures like that of me—and you would have to be there with me when he takes them." 

"Deal. You just leave the details to me—this will be so much fun!" The Lady harrumphed that her sister seemed to be the one having fun, but The Slut countered with her own excitement. 

"C'mon, let's cut the ride short today and go see what you have in the closet." 

"I've got the things I got for our trip to Gulf Shores," Gwen offered hopefully. 

"Nah, he's already seen that. Maybe a new take on something familiar..." The riders made their way back to the house, Gwen again galloping across the open expanse from trail to barn, this time more aware of how her breasts moved in time with her horse, evoking memories from long ago. Natalie followed along at a more sedate pace, daring anyone nearby to look. 

The pair made their way to the house after tending to their mounts, Natalie insisting on firming up an idea of hers before a swim. She cast a critical eye on Gwen as they stood together in the bedroom, hand to her chin while she thought. 

"I know your taste in underwear, so we'll worry about that later, or not at all," she said while continuing to study the nervous woman in front of her. "And you really don't have any lingerie other than what we bought together?"

Natalie continued on before Gwen could answer. "Never mind. You think Ali or KD left anything in their closets?"

Gwen initial reaction was one of shock. Her own daughters, having racy lingerie? The memory of what she found in KD's dresser before the Chamber of Commerce Dinner quickly answered that question. Her reaction turned to one of excitement—imagine wearing a younger woman's things to sexually entice Tim—before the Lady was able to inject a healthy dose of revulsion—imagine wearing your daughter's things to sexually entice their father! "No, I don't think so..."

"Got an idea. Does Tim have any old workshirts?"

"Oh, he's got lots of company t-shirts—"

"No, not those, I mean the button down ones he wears during the winter sometimes?"

"He's got a bunch of those—I've wanted to go through and throw a bunch of them out, but he won't let me, says they're just right and broken in."

"Excellent." Natalie moved to his closet and pushed the door open, not bothering to check with his wife for permission. She quickly found the collection, all hanging together on one spot on the rack, and started flipping through them. Natalie hesitated midway through, pulling a selection off the hanger to examine it, the still-topless woman's breasts jiggling violently as she turned. 

"Try this on."

Gwen took the shirt and looked at it. It was ancient, a relic from his days working for Mr.McGilvary, faded but clean. The Mac's Plumbing patch on the breast had frayed a bit but was still very readable. Tim had been wearing this kind of shirt, maybe even this one, that day they had met...she began to slip the garment over the t-shirt she had put on before leaving the barn.

Natalie stopped her. "Take your clothes off first. I want to see how it might look in the photos."

Gwen looked back at her sister, old habits dying hard, unsure if she should undress in front of her. Natalie was insistent. "C'mon girl, get naked! Let's see what it does for you."

Nervously she did as she was told, not daring to look at her sister again until everything had been removed and the shirt donned. She began to work the buttons, but Natalie stepped in, did a middle one, and then stepped back. "Not bad, not bad," she said approvingly. "Turn around for me." Gwen turned, slowly enough so as not to cause the flaps to fly up and expose her bare bottom. Her sister-in-law stepped in again, undoing the button this time and letting the shirt hang open. The lapels lay along the sides of her breasts, a trail of skin running down from neck to sex. 

Natalie fussed with it for a few more moments, checking the length, rolling the sleeves up then back down, flipping the collar. She took a brief look back into the closet, leaving the nearly naked woman to stand there and examine herself in a nearby mirror, before turning back. "I like it. Do you?" 

Gwen thought back to Natalie's photos, to the white men's shirt she had been wearing, and to how erotic that had been. She doubted she could wear this faded blue denim shirt to the same effect. The Slut screamed out her desire for a life-sized replica of the black and red corset Gwen always had her dressed in. "I'm definitely no authority on this, so if you think this will be alright, then I guess it is." 

Natalie smiled. "I think it's better than alright. So, let me do some thinking on your second outfit—"

"Actually, I might have an idea," Gwen said meekly. Her sister stopped and looked at her expectantly. "I saw some of the women on the website with corsets...maybe one of those? Maybe red, with black trim?"

Natalie smiled. "I think that's a great idea. A Merry Widow kind of thing. Tell you what—let me do some shopping and see what we can come up with for you. And if you don't mind, I'm going to pass on the swim today—it's kinda crappy out, anyways—and head for work a little early, maybe make a call to Barry." 

Gwen nodded her approval while Natalie stepped up and hugged her. "I know you're nervous," she said quietly, "but you're going to love this, trust me! And just as importantly, so will Tim." 

The pair said their goodbyes, Gwen dressed in nothing more than Tim's open shirt while seeing her sister out of the kitchen. Her car was almost out of the yard when the nearly naked woman started re-thinking the whole situation. What had she done? She was planning to get naked, or nearly enough, in front of a man who wasn't her husband, a man she hadn't even met! It's for Tim, the Slut pointedly reminded her. The thrill began to build, and the masturbatory fantasies from earlier in the week began to play in her head. 

Gwen rationalized that an orgasm might help quell the argument currently raging between Lady and Slut, and took a step towards the bedroom to make it happen. 

She stopped. It was not perfect swimming weather, to be sure, but it was muggy enough to make a quick swim enticing, and it might throw water on the fight between the consciences on her shoulders. Towels were already up there in expectation of Natalie's visit; all that was missing was her. 

Gwen stepped on to the deck clad in nothing more than the oversized shirt. Soon even that was discarded, carefully draped over a chairback for her return. She walked slowly, deliberately across the path and up the hill, her imagination conjuring images of the show she was putting on for the camera. The nude woman maintained her measured pace as she slowly walked down the stairs into the warm water, only briefly noting the darkening clouds that were gathering. There was no hesitation when she turned left and made her way to the wall, to where the outflow jet lay beneath the surface. Forearms and elbows were laid on the concrete of the pool lip, her sex positioned to catch the blast of the jet, and she began to daydream. A distant rumble of thunder told her to get out of the pool now, but the added danger only fueled her excitement. 

She moved about the room in Natalie's photos, flirting with the camera, flirting with Barry, a man she imagined to be in his 30s, tall, muscular, and handsome. She allowed him occasional brief glimpses of her breasts and sex at first, gradually becoming more and more brazen until she was naked, bent over as the woman in the bay window had been, and then on her back on the bed, legs spread wide as an offering to the camera, reminiscent of a pose from another model. It was this thought that triggered her climax. She hung there for some time after the last tremors had passed, only moving enough to remove her overstimulated clit from the rushing water, The sound of the first raindrops splattering on the concrete brought her to her senses, and she climbed from the pool and returned to the deck on slightly wobbly legs.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 15



(This story takes place in a fictional world. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.)



"Next Monday."

It took a moment for Gwen's thought process to shift from the expected response to the 'Nelson Plumbing' she had answered the phone with. "Natalie?"

"That's me. Next Monday."

"What are you—"

"Barry's got the day reserved for you next Monday. Can you make it?"

Gwen's head swam. Thoughts of what she had committed to had never been far from her mind the past weekend, thoughts that were both thrilling and frightening. Images of Tim receiving the gift and throwing her on the bed to ravish her had sparred with him becoming disgusted and angrily throwing the gift away. Natalie's voice brought the roller coaster ride to the crest of another hidden drop.

"Next Monday? But we're open—"

"You're an owner. I'm sure Tim will understand if you take a day off. "

"I don't know if this is such a good idea, Natalie..."

"No chickening out now. It's a great idea. We'll go up to Atlanta Sunday afternoon—"

"Sunday? What do I tell Tim? I never go anywhere overnight without him now that the girls aren't riding competitively..." 

"Tell him we're going up for some shopping on my day off and I want to make a trip of it."

"So, this is happening up there?"

"Uh-huh. The Inn at Little Falls. Same place I did mine. And I have an idea on where to get your second outfit; we can do that on Sunday, too."

"Do I need to book a room there?"

"We can stay with Liz Sunday night. Her ex has her daughter for a month, so she's got the condo to herself. The Inn's not too far from there."

"We—I mean, I, couldn't impose on her like that!"

"She already said it would be fine. She's got plenty of room. "

The line went silent for a moment, Gwen thinking of some way, anyway, out of this. The fantasy had been fun, but it was rapidly spinning out of control. "I don't think I..." she began slowly.

"Oh, hush. Start writing up instructions on how many scoops of oats Tim needs to give the horses while you're gone. We'll work out everything else when I come over on Friday."

The week was filled with further reviews of Natalie's album and the various portfolios on the website as well as the need to relieve the urges these created. It was not until Thursday night that she worked up the courage to tell Tim of her trip.

"Natalie asked me to go to Atlanta with her Sunday and Monday—she's going shopping and wants some company," she said as she lay nestled into his side before they nodded off. "Are you alright with me going? If not, I'm fine with staying here."

Tim was mildly surprised by her announcement—his wife and sister had gone from polite acquaintances to BFFs seemingly overnight.

"Uhh, no, no problem, go have some fun," he replied, doing his best to hide his surprise. "Are you guys commuting, or getting hotel rooms?" 

Gwen hesitated. "No, I think we're staying with a friend of hers." She said, unwilling to tell him the friend was Natalie's long-time lover. She pulled back the blankets to reveal his flaccid member. Gently she put her lips over him, anxious to avoid having to answer any more questions. 

Natalie put Tim's shirt and a pair of Gwen's low heels in her car before they began their ride the next morning. She answered all questions about the upcoming weekend with variations of "you asked me to arrange it, and I am. Just relax." 

They made their way to the pool after the extended ride, Natalie's line of discarded clothing leading to the water's edge while Gwen's was neatly hung on a nearby chair. "Oh, Barry wanted to know what kind of shoot you wanted to do," the nude blonde said as she tread water. "I told him as graphic as he could make it—start with a shot of you on your hands and knees, ass up in the air begging for some doggy style, then get wild from there. Did I guess right?" Gwen's panicked eyes found her sister's, her mouth open in horror. "Just kidding. I told him nothing too racy, more along the lines of what I did. I hope I wasn't off base?" 

Gwen shook her head but said nothing. It took her a few moments and several sips of wine to recover from the shock. 

Nothing more was said of the matter and Natalie soon climbed from the pool and dressed for work, departing with a reminder that "she was taking care of everything." The realization that this was going to happen gave Gwen the same thrill she had been getting since she had said yes to this crazy idea, but her nerves had finally reached a point at where they cancelled out her sexual excitement. 

She managed to control her shaking as she said goodbye to Tim late Sunday morning, climbing into the passenger seat of Natalie's SUV while he leaned into the driver side to talk to his sister. It was not until they had pulled onto the road that her self-control finally gave way and her body began to tremble while her leg bounced rapidly. 

"Hey, relax," Natalie soothed as she put her free hand over the ones her sister had folded in her lap. "You'll be great, and you'll have fun. I promise!" Her hand stayed there for some time.

The drive took three hours, the women talking about family and life in general when Gwen could bring herself to talk, anything but about the reason for their trip.. Natalie eventually pulled the vehicle into a parking spot in front of a grey two-story condominium set in a sea of like buildings. 

"We're gonna use Liz's bathroom, then go shopping for your second outfit, then on to dinner," Natalie announced as she set the shift to Park. "C'mon in." 

The pair made their way to the center unit of the building they were in front of, the door opening soon after Natalie rang the bell. Liz stood there, her slender figure clad in a white shirt and jeans that Gwen swore had been pressed, ruby red lipstick accentuating her pale blue eyes while fighting for attention with the luxurious mane of red hair that flowed down her back. 

She traded a warm hug and kiss with Natalie, a more reserved hug and smile for Gwen. Pleasantries were exchanged and facilities used, and Gwen came out of the bathroom to find Liz texting while Natalie looked on.

"Cho said she'll meet us there," the redhead announced without looking up from her phone. "It's only a five minute drive for her."

"Let's go." The three women headed for the SUV. Gwen what somewhat surprised that Liz was joining them—she had not expected that—but was also curious who this Cho was. Her shaking resumed. 

"So, where are we going?" She asked from the backseat as her sister pulled out of the parking space.

"A friend of mine owns a boutique not too far from here," Liz answered from the front without turning. "Natalie told me what you were looking for; I asked Cho if she might have something like that, she's pretty sure she does. She's not normally open on Sundays, but I called in a favor, so she's going to open up for us." 

"Thank you," Gwen stammered, unsure what else to say. She had never considered the possibility that Liz might know why she and Natalie were in town, much less that her sister had discussed the scandalous details with their host.

"Nothing to it," the woman in the front seat said dismissively. "But I have to be honest, you never struck me as the type to be into this type of thing. You always seemed more, I dunno, conservative, I guess."

"I didn't strike me as this type either," Gwen said with a blush as she folded her hands. "Natalie had quite a bit to do with all of this."

"I just helped you let down your guard and your undies a bit," her sister replied with a smirk. 

They pulled into a small strip mall twenty minutes later. A storefront about halfway down the line featured pink fabric-screened windows that prevented a look inside, white letters further obscuring the view on one pane. Sensual Sensations. The name sounded familiar...and then Gwen remembered. The catalog locked away in the cabinet, the box her toys came in...

Natalie chose a spot near the entrance and led the way, Liz knocking once they reached the door. The lock rattled and turned, and the door swung open to reveal a young Asian woman, shorter and a more full-figured than Gwen. "Please, come in!" 

The trio entered and Gwen could hear the door being locked behind her as she looked around in wonder. A rack of condoms was directly in front of her, more kinds than she believed could have existed, while to her left a display of vibrators stood. The entire front of the store seemed filled with items she could not quite identify but knew to be things best viewed discretely; the back half was filled with clothing, glimpses of leather and vinyl making the store she and Natalie had visited for her garter seem tame. 

Natalie hugged the young woman as she moved to greet them, making it obvious they had met before, and Liz bent slightly to hug her as well, thanking her for opening up on her day off. 

"Gwen Nelson, Cho Lin Chen. She's the owner of this fine establishment." 

The young woman thrust out her hand. "Pleased to meet you." 

"Likewise, and thank you for letting me come in on your day off." 

"No problem! Always happy to welcome a new customer, especially if these two are bringing her in!"

"Liz and I met Cho at a Naughty Nightie party she was running," Natalie said in explanation. "She throws the greatest parties!"

"It helps when you have such willing display racks like you and Liz." Cho sized up the brunette standing across from her. "If you're ever interested, get these two to invite you along to one of my parties some time. I think you'd make an excellent model."

Gwen blushed. "Well thank you, I've never been to a...one of those.kinds of parties before, and I think you're too optimistic about my modeling skills." 

"Let's see about that. If you ladies will follow me." Cho set off down an aisle, past a dizzying display of vibrators in all shapes, colors and sizes, and into a forest of lingerie racks. The trio followed, Gwen almost running into Natalie's back when she pulled up short. 

"Liz said a corset, right?" came a voice at the front of the line. The other women moved to the side to allow Gwen to come forward to where Cho was holding several. "She guessed at your size, so I pulled a few out in advance. She mentioned red and black, but she also said you might prefer something not so risqué...I pulled out a few while I was waiting, so let's start with this one." She handed Gwen an all-black garment. "It latches up the back, so it can be a pain in the ass to get in and out of...want me to help you?" 

"I can help her," Natalie quickly offered.

"All right then!" Cho said brightly. "Dressing room's back there—c'mon out when you get it squared away and we'll see how it looks." 

Gwen numbly moved in the direction the woman was pointing at. Come out? It was bad enough Natalie was going to see her in this outfit meant solely for enticing a man into having sex, but two strangers as well? She found the tiny cubicle, really only large enough for one body, and began to undress while Natalie stood in the doorway. She stopped at her bra and panties and reached for the corset that her sister now held, but Natalie pulled it back. "Uh-uh. Everything. We wanna see the full effect."

Reluctantly she removed her underwear and stood there naked, shivering slightly. Only then did she get the garment. She understood the need to wrap it about her, and Natalie did the rest, hooking her up while she adjusted it about her breasts and hips. The garment sat high on her hips and low across her breasts, squeezing her as Natalie closed it from bottom to top, the final clasps not causing her any issue despite the snugness. The reflection showing her covered breasts and midsection while her bare pubic mound and bottom were prominently on display. Nervously she turned for her sister's inspection. 

"Not bad," she said noncommittally. "Not big on the garter straps—I was thinking more of a thigh-high stocking, but let's see what the others think." Natalie moved aside to give Gwen room to exit the cubicle. 

"There's no customers here, right? None of the other employees?" 

Natalie chuckled. "You want their opinion, too? No, nobody else." 

With a deep breath, Gwen padded past a row of racks holding filmy gowns to an open space where Cho and Liz stood.

"Not bad," the shop owner agreed, further adjusting the garment while Gwen turned for her. "Is it too tight? It looks like you're getting red in the face. This won't be any good if you can't wear it for any length of time." 

Gwen turned a deeper red, unwilling to admit that her flush was due to the embarrassment of being bottomless in front of these women. Off to the side she caught a glimpse of Liz whispering to Natalie and gesturing at her mostly-naked body with a nod. "No, it's snug, but not uncomfortable," she answered. 

"Good. Fits nice, but you have the kind of body just about anything will look good on." Cho turned her again. "And if you don't mind me saying so, you're ass and legs are incredible. Put you in a pair of heels and the boys—if that's your thing—will be all over you."

Gwen turned a brighter red. "Thanks, but I'm married."

"Lucky, lucky man" the Asian woman murmured as her fingers brushed through Gwen's abundant patch of hair to tug the bottom of the corset. "OK, next one, please." The woman handed her something that appeared to be a version of what she already wore, but in white. The process was repeated, Gwen and Natalie retreating and returning, Cho turning her and adjusting here and there. With a satisfied nod, she reached for a nearby hanger and gave Gwen something with an abundance of red silk and black piping. 

Gwen's breath caught in her throat. This was the one! This was the Slut, come to life! Please let this fit, she thought as she made her way back to the dressing room.

Natalie stood back as Gwen's shaking hands closed up the concealed hooks on the front. To her relief, it felt like she had wrapped a brand new silk riding glove about her body. It hugged her in all the right places without feeling restrictive. Something about this one was different than the others, nastier, sluttier, more right. She looked at herself in the mirror. The first two she had tried on, while far racier than her normal attire, somehow looked like they would not have been out of place under some of the dresses she had seen on women at elegant functions in magazines and on TV. This one though, this one screamed Slut. Her breasts were pushed together to present more cleavage than she had ever looked down upon, while the bottom hugged her waist, accentuating her tight rounded buttocks. Despite her desire for this ultimate expression of wickedness, she looked at Natalie with uncertainty.

"Wow. If I didn't know your preference for granny panties, I'd say you were born to wear that thing. Let's go see what Cho says." 

The smile on the shop owner's face made her feelings clear. "If you're comfortable wearing something this hot, I would say we have a winner," she said as she moved about, primping and pulling on the taut fabric. "I think I know the pair of panties to go with this—something lacy, black, and very brief."

"I get to wear underwear with this?" Gwen asked hopefully, looking over at Natalie. The onlookers laughed. 

"It's your outfit, you can wear or not wear whatever you want," Cho told her. "Although I think wearing anything more than absolutely necessary would be a shame. In this case, though, I think undies might add just a little bit of mystery, at least until you're ready to lose them. So, is this the one?"

Gwen surprised herself with how quickly she answered. "I think so." 

"Very good. Shall I wrap it for you, or would you like to wear it home?" 

Her blush renewed. Wrapped, please." She hurried back to the dressing room where Natalie whisked the garment away as soon as she removed it. Gwen emerged to find her package ready and paid for, a gift from her sister despite her protests. 

Cho saw the women off after they had given her their thanks and she had repeated her request for Gwen's attendance at her next party. Drinks and food were next. "There's a great Italian place between here and my house," Liz offered, and helped Natalie find her way to the eatery. 

The conversation during dinner revolved around the college roommates' lives while Gwen quietly sipped her wine. Her elation over her find at the boutique had again been replaced by nerves over the occasion it was wanted for. The roller coaster climbed; the roller coaster dropped. Natalie and Liz could sense the reason for her silence and did their best to keep her distracted. 

Between the casual confidence both of these women displayed and the wine, she was feeling somewhat better when they walked back into Liz's condominium later that evening. Another bottle was opened and emptied as they sat and talked before bed, but Gwen was careful not to overdo it, the lessons from her night at the resort still fresh in her mind. Liz's cell rang, and she moved to the kitchen to answer it.

"Hey listen," Natalie said quietly as she bent towards her sister. "Liz and I were talking while you were trying on stuff—"

"I saw you whispering something," Gwen replied, fear beginning to rise. "Was something wrong?" 

"No, no, everything's fine. It's just that, well, we noticed your bush has gotten pretty, umm, lush. Does Tim like it like that?" 

Gwen felt her personal hygiene being called into question and wanted to crawl under the seat cushion. "I don't know—he's never said anything—is it bad? " She babbled. "Is it ugly?" 

"No, not at all," Natalie reassured her. "It's just that we thought the underwear Cho picked out for you might work better with a shorter hairstyle. If you and Tim aren't in love with the current carpet," she added quickly. "If you are, I'm sure Barry can make that work, too."

"Why would Barry care about what I look like down there? I thought I wasn't going to show anything like that!" 

"The finished product may not show you down there, but trimming it back some might give him more to work with. Remember how my pictures showed my bunny tail?"

Gwen nodded miserably. "But I didn't bring any scissors..." 

Natalie smiled. "I'm sure we can borrow some from Liz, and I've got a fresh razor."

"A razor? Won't a trim be enough?" 

"Don't worry, we're not going to take it all off. I'm just gonna make it little tighter and little 

sleeker."

Gwen couldn't bear to look at her sister. "I can try and trim it up some..."

Natalie gently laughed. "Your hands are shaking like a leaf, and the wine and your inexperience won't help. Let me do it. My job has given me plenty of experience."

"I couldn't ask you to do that!" 

"You don't have to ask, I'm volunteering. C'mon, let nurse Natalie do her thing." 

Gwen took a gulp of wine. "Alright, I guess." 

Liz returned from the kitchen, holding the phone out. "Nick. Just wanted to let me know what he and Ashley did this weekend. He was an asshole as a husband, but I gotta admit, he's a good father."

Natalie stood. "Got a pair of scissors? I need to give a haircut."

Liz looked at Gwen and smiled. "I do. You're in good hands. Natalie's done mine more than once. I'll go get 'em." 

"Why don't you head into the spare bedroom," Natalie suggested, "Let me gather up some things and I'll meet you there." 

Gwen arose and moved down the hall to a room on the left. Closing the door behind her, she sat on the edge of the bed, hugged herself, and waited. There was soft knock 5 minutes later, the 

door opening before Gwen could answer, and Natalie entered, carrying a basin of water, a towel and a small cloth bag. She smiled, and after setting the basin on a nearby dresser, moved to Gwen. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 15



"OK, stand up." Natalie laid the towel she held on the bed. "You can leave your top on if you want, but the pants gotta come off for this to work." 

Gwen undid the button and slid down the zipper, pushing them down about her ankles and stepping out of them. 

Natalie smirked. "Still gonna be tough with your undies on." They joined her pants. 

"Better. OK, lay back on the towel."

Gwen climbed on to the bed and positioned herself so her head was on the pillows and her bottom was on the upper edge of the towel, her legs drawn together. 

"OK, scooch down—get your butt down far enough so your legs dangle off the end."

Again the bottomless woman moved, doing her best to keep her legs together while she approached Natalie. Her hands lay stiffly at her side as closed her eyes, too embarrassed to watch what was happening at the foot of the bed. 

A pillow was placed under her head. She didn't see her sister retrieve the basin of water, scissors, and razor, and return to where she lay. She did feel her firm grip about her left ankle though, the hand gently pulling her leg up and out until her heel rested on the edge of the bed. Gwen's eyes popped open in surprise, long enough to confirm it was Natalie who had a hold of her, then squeezed shut again, believing that not seeing was not knowing. Her other ankle was grasped and her leg placed the same way, and she was in position that reminded her of a gynecological exam. She felt the presence of another body close by her opened thighs, then her sister-in-law's gentle voice. "I'm going to start now. Don't be nervous, I've got this." 

Gwen felt the soft touch of Natalie's hand on her pubic mound, gently ruffling the verdant patch of hair. A tuft was gently grasped and pulled, the snick of the scissors relieving the tug of the hair. The hand and scissors worked quickly and in tandem, moving around and across, the tugging becoming less as cold metal began to occasionally make contact with her skin. Gwen could feel the occasional pulls begin to move further down, into the space between her spread thighs. 

The hand and scissors moved all about her sex, cutting stray hairs here, taking a clump down close to the skin there. Gwen lay stiffly, doing her best to remain still as Natalie worked, fearful of what a stray cut might do.

She was brought back to full alert as her hand roughly brushed the remaining hair on Gwen's mound, then repeated the process between the junction of her thighs, a finger coming dangerously close to slipping between her lips. "Getting there," Natalie muttered. "Need you to hold still now." She could hear the contents of the basin being splashed, and was startled as the skin beneath her greatly thinned patch was wetted down, the feeling a shock despite the warm water. The shaving cream that was liberally applied next was no less surprising.

Gwen's eyes remained screwed shut as the blade first glided against her skin, high and to the left of her mound, occasionally finding resistance as it met stray hairs. Natalie continued to work, down between her sister's legs, razor gliding perilously close to the tender skin of Gwen's labia. 

"With all that hair, I never realized you've got such cute little pussy lips," Natalie murmured as she worked. "So delicate. Not like my big ole' mudflaps." 

Gwen was speechless. Politeness required she say something, but she was talking about her flower petals! Not that Gwen had ever really noticed them before—she didn't spend a lot of time looking at herself in that region, and she had just assumed that she and Natalie—and all women, for that matter, just had the same equipment. 

"I think yours are beautiful," was all she could manage before the Lady shut her up. She mustn't think you were looking there!

"Thanks," Natalie chuckled, "but mine look like big old dangly elephant ears. Nothing like yours. Yours are even smaller than Liz's." 

There were several slow scrapes across the skin below her opening, and she felt another towel being worked through her crotch, mopping up any excess shaving cream and fluffing the remaining covering. There was a pause, and Gwen thought the embarrassing exercise finally finished. To her shock, a finger—Natalie's finger—pushed between her folds and found the ring of her opening before quickly coming up between her lips and over her clitoris. Gwen's eyes flew open to find her sister holding a hand mirror, smiling mischievously. "I like it. Wanna look?" 

She took the mirror from her and clumsily tried to position it while craning her neck to get into the optimal viewing position. It was gone! Not all of it, but the unruly mop that had run from her mound down between her legs was now a trim, silky vee, the point balanced just above her clitoris. Natalie had taken off even more than Gwen's attempts at getting it to where her bikini would hide the remainder. The view between her legs particularly fascinated her. She had never really looked down there before, and she really examiner her sex for the first time. Bare skin formed strips from either thigh to the dusky line of her bare slit, the deep shading a sharp contrast to the pale skin on either side. Gwen looked up at her sister in wonder, then back down into the mirror. "It's certainly different," was all she could manage. 

"It'll grow back if you don't like it," Natalie said with a bit of disappointment in her voice. 

"No, no, I like it," Gwen said hurriedly, anxious to show her appreciation for her sister's efforts. And in truth, she did, it was just very new and very exposing. 

"Well, too late now if you don't," Natalie said with a smile as she reached for the mirror. "Lay back and let me finish." 

Gwen did as she was told before even asking to think what might be left. The snap of a plastic lid was followed by the sensation of cool liquid on her now-exposed skin. "Baby oil," Natalie explained. It'll help the spots I just shaved." Her hands worked on smoothing the oil around, doing her best to keep it out of the remaining triangle of hair. A finger raced to catch a stray drop running down the patch below Gwen's opening, stopping it just before it reached her rosebud, bringing it back up and around the now smooth surface. The finger made three trips up her slit this time, once for each side of her lips, and once straight up the middle. Gwen flinched each time, but did not stop her. 

"Much better." Gwen's eyes again flew open, and she vowed not to close them again. Liz stood next to her upturned knee, looking down in approval. "You've got such a beautifully petite body, the fur coat you had between your legs just looked way out of place. I think that's a much better look for you."

Gwen would have closed her legs in modesty if not for her sister between them. "Uhh, thank you?" 

Liz smiled. "Nat, leave the stuff out and you can do me next." 

"Be happy to." 

Gwen scrambled to get off the bed, a sudden urge to cover herself coming over her. "I should, uhh, probably get ready for bed," she explained as she reached for her underwear. "Am I on the couch?" 

"No underwear tonight," Natalie cautioned. "Let that baby oil sink in. And you're in here tonight." 

"But where are you going to sleep?"

Natalie gave her a patient smile. "Liz lets me use some of her bed." 

The light suddenly went on in Gwen's head. "Of course! How could she be so stupid?

"Oh—yes—right—I had completely forgotten that you and she, uhh, you two..." Both Lady and Slut were in agreement for once and counciled her to just shut up. 

Natalie smiled. "You OK with that? I kinda thought you might just assume..."

"No it's fine, really. You two, uhh, sleep well together, I just, umm, am going to get ready for bed now, long day tomorrow..." 

Natalie kissed her on the cheek. "You sleep well, too. See you in the morning."

"There are fresh towels in the bathroom across the hall," Liz told her as they gathered up the shaving supplies. "Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen if you're up before us...just yell if you need anything."

Gwen looked at the floor as she smiled and nodded. The door was quietly shut behind the retreating pair, and she was alone in the strange bedroom. She quickly stripped down to her bra and socks before putting on her nightgown—the idea that she would have to go without panties in somebody else's house was foreign enough, anything less was completely out of the question. 

She could hear Liz and Natalie in the kitchen cleaning up as she crossed the hall to the bathroom. The house was dark when she re-emerged, the only illumination coming from a nightlight and the glow of lamps escaping from underneath bedroom doors.

Gwen slid under the covers of her bed and turned out the lamp. She lay there in the dark, looking at the ceiling, trying to calm her nerves, listening to the soft, muffled voices of the two women in the next room. She remembered Tim telling her more than once how housing development builders tended to use materials and techniques that were just good enough to finish the project, and the sound-blocking qualities of the wall separating the two rooms were proof. While their words were indistinguishable, she could tell from the tone and inflection who was speaking. 

The Lady insisted she stop listening in on their private conversation, but Gwen found it hard to shut it out. Instead, she began to dissect her 'haircut', step by step. Had Natalie really touched her down there? The shaving was one thing, but her sister's fingers running through her most private spot? Maybe she was checking for shaving cream and making sure she got the oil everywhere, Gwen reasoned. It couldn't have been intentionally inappropriate. 

The soft squeak of the bed on the other side of the wall interrupted her deliberation. Somebody had lain down on it. Natalie or Liz, she wondered. A second squeak a few moments later made the point moot. They had lowered their voices, but their closeness to the wall negated the effect. Gwen's thoughts began to drift into the next room despite the Lady's protests. Were they just sharing the bed tonight, or would there something more? Were they in each other's arms, were they dressed? The sound of the bed squeaking with enough force to suggest two bodies were on the move, followed by a giggle, almost certainly Natalie, answered several of her questions. 

The bed continued to play tattletale for the next forty five minutes, the headboard occasionally making contact with the wall telling her it was not a case of restless sleepers. Murmurs and more soft laughter came from the next room, and Gwen couldn't be sure whether she was imagining the occasional sigh or moan. There was no doubt in her mind, though—she was listening to two people having sex, to her sister having sex, to her sister-in-law having sex with another woman. The Lady had long ago given up trying to get her to stop, to maybe go sit in the living room for a bit until they were finished. For the first time, Gwen was listening to the sounds of female passion. 

Eventually there was a soft wail, a cry she knew was not pain or fear but unrestrained pleasure, followed by another a few moments later. There was some more murmuring, more soft laughter, then silence. Gwen desperately wanted to reach under her gown and touch her naked sex, to give herself the pleasure she had heard in the next room, but there was no way that was going to happen tonight. Not in somebody else's house, not in somebody else's bed, and especially not with the admission that the sound of her sister's orgasm had brought her to this state. The nerves over what tomorrow would bring returned to eventually drive any desire out of her. She slept fitfully.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 16



The alarm in the next room awoke Gwen at 6am. She had not slept much, only dropping off after she had finally risen at one point to put on her underwear, sure the oil that Natalie had applied the night before had dried.

She lay there a moment, hearing the squeak of the bed on the other side of the wall as two bodies rose from it, debating whether to get up and shower first or go to the kitchen for coffee. Before she could do either, there was a soft knock on her door as it opened a crack, not enough that Gwen could see who it was.

"Gwen? Rise and shine. Places to go, things to do, people to see, pictures to take. C'mon and have a cup of coffee with us, honey."

"Thanks Natalie, I'm up. Be right there." Coffee would make showering and dressing a bit easier, she decided. The robe she had brought was thrown over the gown she wore, and she made her way to the kitchen.

Her sister was already there, pouring coffee from the maker that had started ten minutes before the alarm went off, her bare bottom peeking from underneath a t-shirt emblazoned with her alma mater. So much for modesty, Gwen wryly noted. 

Natalie turned, mug in hand, and leaned to kiss her on the cheek. "Mornin' sweetie. Sleep well?"

"Not really..." 

"I'm sorry. Strange bed, missing a handsome stud beside you, nerves, or all of the above?" 

"Nerves," she replied as she took the cup from her hands. She was not about to admit that the previous day's activities and sounds had been a factor as well. 

"Well, hopefully you got enough sleep to be on your game today. Aren't you excited? I know I am."

"Scared as all get out, thank you very much." 

Natalie laughed as the pair sat down at the small table. "I wish you wouldn't be. You'll end up loving this, you'll see!" 

"'Morning," Liz called out softly as she glided around the corner. Gwen instantly felt self-conscious. Where she knew she had bed head, sleep lines and a slightly disheveled appearance, Liz looked as elegant as ever in a full-length black satin robe tied loosely about her waist, her red mane flowing down her back like it had just been carefully brushed. 

"'Morning" the others replied as she took a mug on the counter before continuing on to the refrigerator. The robe gaped open as she bent to pull milk from a lower shelf, and Gwen caught sight of a bare breast, larger than hers, capped by a pink nipple. She guiltily looked away.

Liz straightened and put the carton on the table before casually untying the robe, flipping it open and loosely retying it, making it apparent she wore no underwear whatsoever underneath. Gwen caught a glimpse of her shaved sex and wondered if that too was Natalie's handiwork. 

"See anything you want to eat?" 

Gwen's eyes flew from the waist of the woman standing before her to her eyes. Liz smiled down at her, a knowing look on her face. The seated woman's face turned hot. "Uhh, thank you, no, I'm not really hungry."

"Somebody's nervous," Natalie said with a sympathetic laugh, rubbing her forearm for support. 

"Just remember that Barry and Sandra have seen it all many, many times before, stuff a lot more graphic than you're going to do today for sure, and that the end result is going to be something your husband will treasure for the rest of his life. I was pretty nervous too, until we got to work."

"You've had these kinds of pictures taken before?" Gwen asked, surprised that the cool, collected woman in front of her had ever been nervous in her life. 

"Not exactly. Mine were a little more extreme. Barry asked me to pose for some artistic nudes, and boy was I nude. Of course, so was the poor guy I was posing with. His nerves were a bit more apparent until he got into it as well.

Anyways, help yourself to whatever you can find. I've got to start getting ready for work." Liz swept out of the room as elegantly as she had entered, coffee in hand.

"You should probably start getting ready, too. I'm sure they'll want us there earlier than later so Sandra can do up your hair and makeup." Natalie rose, kissed her on the top of the head, and followed Liz down the hallway.

Gwen took two more sips before deciding she could not delay the inevitable any longer. She made her way back to her room, the sound of the shower in the master bath coming through Liz's open bedroom door. A quick glimpse of Natalie moving about confirmed she had discarded what little cover she had worn in the kitchen. 

With a sigh, Gwen gathered her things and moved to the guest bathroom. She admired the look and feel of her new hairstyle after she had stripped down, running her fingers over the now bare skin while looking at herself in the mirror. The smooth feel where for many years there had been thick, curly hair fascinated her. Her hand continued its exploration after she stepped into the shower, even as the excitement and dread of what she was about to do again crept over her. 

She called Tim after she had finished her preparations and returned to her room. She did her best to hide her nerves from him, trying to turn the conversation from her activities to his own, and was relieved when she was able to end the call and send him over to the shop.

Gwen returned to the living room to find Natalie and Liz saying their goodbyes. Despite the activities she had heard the night before, she was a little surprised by the quick kiss they shared before Liz moved to where she stood, hugging her and kissing her cheek. "You'll do great," she said with a smile. "May I see them when they're done?" 

"Of course," Gwen replied politely after figuring out she was referring to the photos, having never considered the possibility that someone else might actually want to see them. "I doubt they'll be much to look at, though." 

"I think you're wrong," Liz called over her shoulder as she scooped up her briefcase and headed for the door. "Don't forget to lock up." 

Natalie turned the SUV onto a dirt road forty five minutes later, past a large wooden sign for "The Inn at Little Falls", and up another quarter mile up through fields to a large house sitting on a low rise. A couple of cars were already parked in front of the white porch that ran the length of the front, two well-dressed middle-aged men standing at the top of the broad wooden steps. 

"Norman! Steven! How nice to see you again!" Natalie called as she climbed up towards them, Gwen in tow. Hugs and kisses were exchanged between the three before the man on the left separated himself and turned to Gwen. 

"Hello, I'm Norman Hewitt and this is my partner, Steven Marcotte," he said gesturing to the man behind him. Welcome to the Inn at Little Falls. You must be Gwen?" 

"Yes, sir," she replied, taking the offered hand. 

"Barry and Sandra are already here, setting up for you," Steven told her as he and Natalie moved towards the main doorway. "We have a couple who stayed with us last night and are just getting ready to leave, and then the place is yours for the day!" 

"Barry asked for the Garden room for the morning," Norman explained as he escorted Gwen up the remaining stairs. "But if you or he want something different, just let us know. We've got an empty house until tomorrow night."

"We were going to use that room, but you still had guests in it when we got here," Natalie called out as they moved down a wide hall towards the back of the house. "But we got to use the garden after they left!"

"I'm sure it will be fine," Gwen told the handsome man next to her, "Mr. McCall would know better than I." 

The hallway ended at a partially open oak door. Natalie disappeared into the room, and there was the sound of a man and woman greeting her enthusiastically. 

Gwen hesitated, suddenly unwilling to take those last steps and turn the corner. Another step to this fantasy becoming real, to becoming the slut her mother had always warned her about. Natalie's head popped back through the doorway, an expectant smile on her face. With a deep breath, Gwen moved forward. 

She entered the room and had to stifle a laugh. The photographer of her fantasies, the thirty-something hunk, was actually a slightly potbellied man in his early sixties, his six-foot-two frame topped by a by a crown of silver hair surrounding a shiny bald head. A trimmed silver-white beard stretched across his jaw from ear to ear. 

A deep rumble filled the room. "Gwen? Barry McCall. It's a pleasure." 

Gwen reached for the massive paw being offered her. "Thank you for taking the time to do this—"

"Again, my pleasure. Your pictures, particularly your equestrienne shot, told me I had an exquisite subject to work with, but I must admit, they did not do you justice." 

"Pictures?"

"I sent Barry some photos of you," Natalie hurriedly explained. "To give him an idea of what you looked like. Some things we had taken at family get-togethers. I had a photo of you at a dressage competition that I sent, too." 

A tall woman, perhaps only a couple of inches shorter than the man who had been screening her, stepped forward. "Sandra McCall," she said offering her hand. Gwen took it and looked up at the woman. She was in her mid-fifties at least, carefully coiffed blonde hair piled on top of her head, a figure that showed just a hint of middle-aged spread. "I'm here to make sure my husband makes you look every bit as beautiful in your photos as you are in real life."

Gwen blushed as Barry continued on. "I don't think we'll be needing you much today, dear. Maybe highlight those stunning eyes a bit, get her hair just so...she's one too much makeup would be a waste on. Of course, what you will be wearing—or not wearing," he said with a conspiratorial grin, "will have an effect on that as well."

"Let me go get her things," Natalie called out and left the room. 

"I, uhh, let her pick out what I should wear. I have no idea about this kind of thing," Gwen explained.

"Natalie gave me an idea of what you and she had in mind...you're doing this for your anniversary, right?" Gwen nodded. "Then what ever you think your husband would like is what will work. Business outfit, lingerie, chicken costume..." Another disarming grin. 

Sandra motioned to a nearby tray. "The boys brought in some breakfast. Would you like something before we start? Perhaps a Mimosa?" 

"I'm, uhh, not sure what that is..." 

"A mimosa? It's champagne and orange juice. Some triple sec, too, if you want to be official, but we don't have any of that this morning, I'm afraid."

The Lady was shocked. Alcohol for breakfast? Unthinkable! The Slut argued that to decline might be rude. Gwen hushed them both. Breakfast or not, a drink—just one, she cautioned herself—would certainly help her nerves. "I'd like that—thank you." A fluted glass appeared in her hand, and Natalie appeared soon after carrying the white box from Sensual Sensations and a duffle bag. Gwen sipped nervously while the package was opened and the duffle unzipped. A lacy pair of black panties was produced first, and she caught herself breathing in deeply at the sight of the corset as it was removed from the tissue paper it was wrapped in. Natalie held it up for the photographer's inspection while the model it was intended for blushed furiously. Barry nodded his approval and began adjusting the lighting he had brought. 

"I like it. Can never go wrong with one of those. I've always wanted to find one of those old West saloons and do a dance hall girl shoot with the model in something just like that. Let me finish up with this, and I can go check on the next location while Sandra gets our model ready." The big man aimed one last spot, then turned back to the women. "Before I go, though, let's take a picture or two. Gwen, why don't you—" the photographer moved to the door and closed it before reaching for a nearby camera—"Stand right here. Just stand normally, you don't have to pose or anything. A little like a passport photo."

Gwen wasn't sure what a passport photo might look like, but she took her position, body naturally erect from years of practice, eyes up and forward. 

"Well, not exactly like a passport photo. You can smile!" She did her best, and the camera clicked several times while the strobe flashed. "Excellent," he pronounced, paging through the results in the viewfinder. "I'll be back in a bit." Barry left the room, solid footstep echoing down the corridor. 

"Ready to get started?" 

The stylist's question startled Gwen. "I guess."

"Wonderful. Why don't you get your things off and I can start your hair and makeup?" 

"I brought one of my robes for you, if you'd like," Natalie volunteered, pulling a shimmering white thing out of the duffle. "At least until Barry's ready to start taking pictures?" The shaking woman gratefully accepted and retreated to the bathroom, returning a few moments later wearing the mid-thigh-length robe she been given. Sandra showed her to the chair in front of the dressing table and began to put her hair up. Makeup was next, liner applied sparingly to her eyes, a lipstick that mimicked the color of the corset artfully applied, some powder to her forehead, and the stylist evaluated the image she saw in the mirror.

"Those eyes don't need much calling out at all—they're amazing as is! And if you keep blushing like that honey, I won't need to use any of the fake kind. Now, stand up and turn towards me." Gwen rose, now empty glass in hand, which Natalie took from her, refilled, and returned. The stylist eyed the shaking woman. "Uh-huh. I think it's time for wardrobe, then we can do another check." Sandra picked up the nearby garment, pulling it back as Gwen reached for it. "Let us help you. It's just us girls. Nothing to be scared of."

The robed woman glanced at the partially open door. "Could you close the door?"

Sandra laughed softly. "Only people that might see is Barry, who's going to anyways, and the boys, who are more likely to comment on what you're wearing than not wearing. The ventilation is better in here if we keep it open. "

Gwen took another swig of her drink before putting down the glass and reluctantly untying the robe. She carefully removed it, placing it on the chair behind her, then removed her bra and panties.

"You have a beautiful figure," the stylist said as she approached to within inches of the trembling woman. Gwen held her breath and let her wrap the corset about her body. Her fingers worked quickly, securing the fasteners and settling her breasts in the cups so her nipples lay just below the top of the garment. 

Sandra stepped back. "Now that's what I'm talking about." Natalie handed the partially nude woman the wispy pair of underwear she was holding, and Gwen hurriedly slipped them on. A quick examination showed they did not hide much, and even what little remained from the previous night's shearing was just barely concealed. With no small amount of embarrassment she picked at the fabric as it crossed through her crotch, adjusting it so what little fabric there was at least covered her lips. Her rear had no such cover, and the underwear disappeared between the cleft of her bottom before reappearing on her tailbone. Stockings were next, dark, gauzy hosiery that ended in scalloped lace midway up her thigh. Finally Natalie produced a pair of black heels, not the stilettos Gwen had seen in some of the portfolios, but higher than she had ever worn before, nonetheless. Sandra made a couple of adjustments and stepped back. 

Gwen looked at the two women nervously. Despite her fears, she really wanted to believe that her sister's expression was one of amazement; the stylist's look seemed to be confident satisfaction. "Sweetie, you look incredible!" Natalie finally breathed.

There was a knock on the partially open door. "May I come in?" Barry didn't wait for an answer. Gwen instinctively grabbed for her robe at the perceived intrusion of this male stranger, feeling some comfort in putting it on despite how little it actually covered. "You look absolutely beautiful, Gwen," the big man rumbled, making it clear he had seen it all before she had been able to add the protective layer. "Your husband is a very lucky man, and you are a very special woman to be giving him this gift. Now, before we begin, I just want to go over some rules. The most important rule is--this is your day. What you say, goes. Pose the way you want to pose—don't be afraid to freestyle. If I ask you to do something you're not comfortable with, just tell me. You make the rules. I will take the sexiest pictures I know how using only what you want to show. Now, I may get some naughty bits in the edges of a picture, but those can be cropped out depending on what you want. I promise that you and I will be the only one who ever see all the work we'll be doing today. You get to choose what your husband sees. Let yourself go. Be as wild as you want to be, be someone you've never been before, it's our little secret." He again flashed that charming, disarming smile. 

"Now I get a little carried away sometimes when I'm working and things are going well, and I may touch you to put you in a certain pose. I promise I'm not getting fresh, I'm just excited about the way the shoot is going and want to keep going while the ideas are in my head. If you don't like to be touched, just remind me or tell me I'm making you uncomfortable. So, you think we're ready to start?"

Gwen nodded dumbly, unsure what to do.

"Great! Nat, can you take the breakfast tray back to the kitchen on your way out, and Sandra, can you stash the bags and such in the bathroom for now? Gwen, why don't you take off the robe and go on over to the window?" 

Natalie picked up the tray and gently kissed her sister on the cheek. "You really do look incredible. Have fun—I'll see you when you're done with the first shoot." 

Gwen's heard whirled in panic. "Where are you going? You promised you'd be here with me!"

This room is too small for all of us. I'm going to take my drink and go sit and rock on the porch. Don't worry, Sandra will be here to touch up your makeup if she needs to. C'mon out and get me when Barry says he's ready for a break." With that she was gone, door left wide open behind her. 

The stylist continued her trips to and from the bathroom while Barry smiled at the shaking woman. "The light's just right to start now." 

"With the curtain open? Won't someone see me?"

Barry laughed gently. "Just me and Sandra. C'mon over."

Gwen did her best to control her trembling as she timidly moved into place so her back was to the glass. "Did you want to start with the robe on?" he asked softly. 

"No, no, I guess not," she answered. "Unless you think I should?"

"I think the less we put between you and the camera, the better. So, how about we start without it?" She nodded and managed to slip it from her shoulders, handing it to a waiting Sandra. 

"You look great, Gwen, you really do. OK, hold the curtain back with your left hand and look out the window. Put your other hand on the sill." She could hear the electronic shutter snap a few times. "Very nice. OK, keep your hands where they are, but kinda rotate your body back away a little bit, like you're turning towards me, but keep looking out the window. Good!" 

The big man continued to shoot, moving from side to side with the bed between them as he did so. Gwen was breathless. She was practically naked in front of a strange man, her rear end for all intents and purposes exposed to him. The feeling that she was about to become physically ill clashed with the arousal that was growing in her. 

"OK Gwen, I want you to sit on the edge of the window. Cross your legs at your ankles, put your palms on the edge, and turn your head to look out into the garden."

Again the camera clicked incessantly as the man behind it moved back and forth, up and down. "Wonderful. You feeling alright?" She found his eyes and nodded. "Good. OK, uncross your legs and spread them a little for me. Keep looking into the garden." Click-click-click. "Now look the other way." Click-click-click. "Move your legs out a little more." Barry kept shooting, Gwen's head turning back and forth while her thighs continued to creep away from each other until she was sure he could see how little her underwear actually covered. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 16



"Doin' great! Now stay like you are, but look down to where you're sitting on the edge." She did and gasped as Barry took more photos. The underwear had retreated between her labia, the black band of fabric lewdly pushing her outer lips into puffy ridges. 

"It looks really sexy," Barry assured her, reading her mind. "But if you want to, umm, adjust that, I can get some photos that way, too, and let you decide which ones you like better."

Gwen quickly reached between her legs and did her best to pull the offending material out of her, suddenly embarrassed that she was performing this very private act in front of a stranger.

"Let's get a few more poses around the room," Barry offered, "and then if you want, we can just get rid of them. Sandy, can you touch up her cheeks just a little? She's losing a little color there."

"You're doing great, Gwen," the stylist reassured her as she worked. "Don't be afraid to let all your sexiness come out. The only people who will see it are our husbands and me, and I can take care of my husband. Show yours what he's got." 

An accidental glance in a nearby mirror froze her. It was not her who was looking back, it was the Slut, a real-life, full-size version of the lustful, perverted creature that had sat on her shoulder all these years. The outfit, the look, the attitude...she had become the Slut. The idea thrilled her. The feeling in the pit of her stomach began to recede as the urge to make her husband—and the man with the camera—want her grew. 

Barry posed her about the room for quite a while, a stockinged foot and leg balanced on a hassock as she adjusted the top, bending over the bed to pull down the covers while her breasts strained to pop loose from their restraints, her ruby-red lips pressed against the clear glass of the champagne flute while she sipped. 

"You're a natural," he said softly as he looked down at the camera to change a setting. "I can see your equestrian training in the way you move and present yourself." 

"You're too kind." She remembered how she had been taught the style and poise Barry was seeing, and how she had worn even less then. The arousal that sprang from the memory conflicted with the shame that she had allowed it to happen in the first place. 

"So, what do you think? Want to try it without the undies?" 

Her thoughts snapped back to the present. "Uh, I don't know, if you think we should..." You liar, the Slut laughed. You know you want to show this guy everything. Gwen had to admit that was true, but she also wished that the photographer would just tell her what to do and not give her a choice in the matter. It just seemed so much easier that way...

"I do. Remember, this is all about you. If you don't like the idea, then you don't have to." 

"I guess we can try it," she said after pausing long enough to pretend she had weighed her options.

Sandra stepped towards her. "I can take them for you." 

With a deep breath, Gwen pushed them down her legs, careful not to catch her stockings with her fingers, frantically trying to balance on one shoe while disentangling the fabric from the other heel. Sandra kneeled, her face just inches from Gwen's shaven sex, and reached to help her. The struggling woman gratefully accepted the offer, hands hastily forming a protective shield over her crotch in a false show of modesty while lifting each foot just enough for the stylist to finish the job she had started.

"Great. Why don't you sit down at the dressing table?" She sat, her back to him, knees tightly pressed together and hands folded primly in her lap. 

"I admire your posture, Gwen, but let it down a bit, pretend you're relaxed," Barry directed with a touch of a laugh in his voice. She did her best, letting her shoulders slump as much as her training would allow while the Slut stared back at her from the mirror. 

The camera clicked several times. "Better. OK, now bring your knees out just a little and put your hands on the edge of the chair." More shots were taken from angles all about her, Barry moving her gaze from side to side, up and down. The process was repeated several times, legs opening wider while the camera clicked. 

"Great! Now, put your hands palms down between your legs and lean forward a bit." The camera clicked as the photographer moved about her. "Push your chest out a little. Oh yeah, that's really nice. OK, stand up." Gwen quickly did as instructed, her hands again covering her bare sex. "Now, sit down facing me and put your hands on top of the back of the chair." She hesitated. To do so would mean straddling the seat with her legs completely open to him. Time to give him a show, she decided, and did as asked, the wood-framed back only partially obscuring her sex. Barry continued to move about her, going down on one knee before rising again, camera always at his eye. 

"OK, lean forward and put your chin on the top of the back, and put your hands on the side." He soon got the look he needed and pressed the button. 

"Got it! So, how about a few on the bed?" 

Gwen stood and began to climb on to the duvet-covered mattress, knowing that her bare bottom and what lay between her thighs was pointing directly at the clicking camera as she moved. More shots were taken of her on her stomach and side, the comforter discretely covering her most private areas. 

"OK Gwen, almost done. Why don't you roll over on your back and get yourself so your head hangs over the side?" 

She hesitated a bit before complying, unsure where this was leading to, but finally settled into what she thought he wanted, legs crossed at the ankles while her hands modestly covered the junction of her thighs. Her neck immediately felt the strain of her position and blood rushed to her head while Barry hurried to the other side of the bed. She startled as his massive, callused hand grabbed her ankle and pushed it back to crook her leg at the knee. Directing her to place her hands at her side, he returned to where she hung upside down and snapped away.

"Hold on, I know that's not really comfortable, almost done...good! Now, unhook the front of your corset—don't open it, let it just lay on you."

Gwen managed to do as he asked, the last hook undone as he stepped forward and arranged the now loose garment across her breasts while leaving her bare from neck down to what remained of her thatch, his fingers casually brushing against skin only her husband had ever touched. Satisfied, he resumed shooting from all possible angles. 

"Done! That was incredible. Why don't you take a break for lunch and we'll set up the second location?" 

She fastened the corset about her before rising, Sandra waiting for her with Natalie's robe as she tried to gracefully climb off the bed.

"What time is it?"

"Almost noon...Norman and Steven have lunch waiting for you out on the porch." Gwen nodded. Noon! They had been at this for three hours! It had only seemed like a few minutes!

"Guess I'll get changed and go on out there," she replied, suddenly realizing her anxiety had been replaced by hunger, both physical and sexual. 

"Nah, don't bother," the tall blonde told her. "You'll need to get changed again when we're ready for you. It's probably just you and Natalie out there, anyways. Just take the corset off if you want to be more comfortable." 

Gwen decided that a little cover was better than none at all and left the red badge of her sluttiness on underneath the robe. A feeling of exhilaration after the first drop of this roller coaster ride propelled her down the hallway and out the front door, the Lady still counseling caution that she keep an eye out for anyone who might see her so scantily clad. She found her sister sitting on the porch, rocking, salads, bread, and wine set on a nearby table.

"How'd it go?" 

"I guess it went OK," Gwen replied, not quite ready to admit the thrill she had gotten from posing. "But I think Barry will be the judge of that."

"You and Tim will be the judge of that," Natalie reminded her. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved." The women sat down and quickly downed the wine that had been poured for them and refilled their glasses before beginning on their meals.

"I snuck a peek or two while you were in there," Natalie admitted between forkfuls of salad. "You looked hot!"

"Well, I guess it was a little warm in there..."

Her sister laughed. "Not the weather. You. As in, every hetero guy in the county would have trouble keeping it in their pants. Hell, I had less than pure thoughts about you."

"Me?"

"You. So, Barry and Sandra getting the next shoot ready?" 

Gwen paused, the slut finding the idea that Natalie might have found her sexually attractive appealing, the Lady, appalling. The feel of a breeze working its way under her robe to tickle her bare thighs only highlighted the erotic situation she found herself in. "Yes, they said they'd come get me." 

She ate at a speed she knew was most unladylike, her stomach having its way this time. She had reached the bottom of her bowl and downed a slice of bread when the sound of the big man stomping down the hall echoed out to where they sat. His imposing frame came through the screen door a moment later, the hinges squeaking in protest as he pushed through. 

"Gwen, I was just looking at some of the work from this morning on my laptop. They're incredible!" 

"I know you're supposed to say that," she said with a blush. "But thank you—I know how good you are by looking at your portfolios." 

"It's easy to do good work with good material, and you're we pros call really, really, good. I'm really excited to get this next one started—after you've finished lunch, of course," he added hurriedly. 

"I'm finished," she replied, pushing her plate away to emphasize her declaration. "So we might as well get going so I can put my clothes back on." 

Barry laughed. "You'll have to lose some more before you get to that point. Why don't you head back to the room and Sandra can help you get ready."

"I'll come, too," Natalie announced as she stood. "I wanna see if what I brought for her works."

She led the way, Gwen following along, Barry behind them until he reached a door marked 'private' on the right about halfway down the hall. He opened it and disappeared into the room behind it while Natalie continued on down to where their things were.

Gwen turned the corner to find her sister pulling Tim's old shirt out of the bag. It was carefully laid it on the bed before a leather tool belt was withdrawn, the gleaming leather strap and holsters looking like had hardly been used. A lacy white pair of underwear was removed from a side pocket. The anxiety began to build again as the roller coaster climbed the next hill. Not so bad as the morning, and certainly not so bad as yesterday, but it was there still. 

Sandra sat the bewildered woman and began to remove her makeup. 

"Won't what I had on work?" She asked the tall blonde. 

You're going to need something a little more waterproof," she said with a smile.

"Waterproof? Where am I going next? And Natalie, where did you get the toolbelt? That doesn't look like one of Tim's?" 

Her sister spoke up when Sandra made it obvious she wouldn't be answering. "It's Adam's. You know how he is—he gets these occasional delusions that he's a handyman, starts a project, and then realizes he's better at lawyerin' than plumbin'. So I let him play manly man and fix my plumbing, and he forgets all about it for a while." 

The stylist snickered. "Men are so easily distracted by the magic snake drain between our legs." 

Gwen blushed but smiled appreciatively at the bawdy comments. 

The fresh application of makeup was soon finished, her hair was removed from its more formal setting and pulled into a ponytail, and Gwen was again standing nude in front of the two women. "Undies, toolbelt, then the shirt," Natalie announced. The underwear was as lacy as the pair she had worn in the morning, but more full cut, her cheeks at least partially covered despite the fact it rode high on her waist. She tried to protest over the placement of the leather belt, pointing out that it was correctly worn over the pants, but Natalie reminded her she wouldn't be wearing any of those today. The shirt was as she remembered it from the day she had tried it on, soft and smelling of laundry detergent and her husband. Its bottom rode high on her thighs, hanging low enough to cover her panties. Natalie fastened a single button near her navel to keep it from coming apart altogether. 

Satisfied, Sandra led the way out of the room and to the door Barry had disappeared behind. Gwen stepped through to find a large living room, exquisitely decorated, photos of the owners evident on shelves and walls. This must be their part of the house, she thought as she followed the women down a short hallway. She stepped into a huge bathroom, as large as her bedroom at home, sunlight streaming through windows and skylights. Barry was already there, adjusting a lone light stand off to the side. 

"The boys gave me permission to use their living area for this one," the big man said as he turned to greet them. "Oh yes, this will work just fine," he murmured as he sized up the woman in the oversized shirt. "Gwen, I hope you don't mind, but Natalie and I thought it might be fun to do something a little bit sillier than maybe you're used to. It will still be sexy as all get out, don't worry, but with your husband being a plumber, well we thought we might have some fun with that. Natalie said you can be a bit serious sometimes, so you might have to step outside that a little. Are you up for it?" 

Her anxiety heightened as the ride climbed to another crest. "What do I have to do?"

Barry smiled. "Be a plumber, of course."

"But I'm not a plumber! I run the office!"

"You're not going to actually be doing any work. We're just going to make it look like the hottest, sexiest plumber in the world is on the job." 

She looked over at a beaming Natalie. "C'mon Gwen, you can do it."

She conceded with a sigh. "Alright, what do I do?"

"Be as sexy as you dare, then go one step further."

"I'll try, but what do I do?"

"For starters, go to the sink and play with the faucets a bit."

She moved over to the massive granite countertop and tentatively placed a hand on the black iron cold water handle. She felt so silly doing this, but turned it on and off, then the hot water, all while Barry moved about her shooting. There was the sound of water hitting the clawfoot tub behind her.

"Good, good, now bend over so you can look up into the faucet, like something's keeping the water from coming out."

I'd unscrew the aerator first, she thought to herself, but complied anyways as the photographer now moved behind her to capture her presented rear as it peeked out from underneath the tails of the shirt.

"Turn to the left a bit, but keep looking underneath." She did, and could feel how the shirt had fallen away from her chest, partially revealing her dangling breast. 

Barry finally pronounced himself satisfied with the pose. He opened the door to the cabinet beneath the countertop. "OK Gwen, why don't you bend way over and look down in there?" The space was clean, if unspectacular, she decided. Copper tubing, a lack of PVC, good materials. She might not be a plumber, but years of experience had taught her the products she was placing orders for.

"Pardon the hands," she heard the photographer say as the shirt was pushed up her back just enough to reveal all of her white panties. She gasped as they were partially tugged off her hips. 

"Sorry, sorry," Barry said from behind her. "I'm going for my take on plumber's butt." She held the pose while he snapped away, at one point lying his massive frame on the floor to capture the view between her legs and up her shirt as it fell away from her. 

"I like it," he said as he scrambled to his feet. "OK, why don't you lie on your back and get a really good look under that sink? Just lie your head on the towel that's inside and pretend you're working up in there." She took the position, legs firmly together as she looked up and identified the various parts of the drain assembly. 

"OK," Barry said slowly. "Bring your knees up and spread your legs like you're getting good leverage." She smiled grimly to herself. He might call it leverage, but she knew it as the position she and Tim had made babies in. Even with her underwear, it felt so revealing, so nasty to be showing it to this man, as if it were a thinly veiled invitation. 

"Spread your legs some more,' he called out, and she did so, past where Tim would fit between them comfortably. She could hear the camera clicking. "OK, you, uhh, can adjust your undies now...I'd do it for you, but my wife would slap me." 

"Damn right!" she heard the stylist call out, and Gwen hurriedly ran a finger down each edge of the crotch to pull them out of her slit. The camera continued to whir and click.

"Great! OK, c'mon out of there. The shower needs work, too." 

Gwen climbed to her feet to find the glass door to the oversized stall already open, Barry standing next to it. "I apologize in advance if it gets a little tight in there. It's a big stall, but I'm a big guy..." She smiled her understanding. "So, take one of those wrenches in your belt and pretend you're adjusting the showerhead," he coached as she entered. 

She smiled to herself. These were not the right wrenches for this job. Still, she played along, standing on tiptoes to reach the offending nut, careful not to scratch the finish. "OK, now I'm going to reach around you and turn on the water. You're gonna get wet. I ran it before you came in, so it should be warm, but I want you to hold the pose until I say so, alright? And try not to scrunch your face up." The promised hand slid by her breast before she could object, and the stream of water hit her squarely in the forehead.

"Great, great," he called out. "Tilt your head up just a little so the water is right in your face." Gwen felt foolish to be in the running shower, any plumber worth their salt would have turned off the water to the bathroom first, but she did as instructed, the spray splashing her, soaking the shirt. It seemed like some sort of water torture, but she gamely held her ground. The hand again snaked by her and stopped the flow. "Nice job! Now take off the shirt." 

Gwen looked back over her shoulder in mild shock at the direct instruction, already reasoning that she could not possibly refuse his directive. With her back to the photographer, she undid the lone button and slid the sodden garment off her shoulders. Barry whisked it away from her. "OK, back to that same pose." The hand slid by her again, dangerously close to the bare skin of her breast, and the flow of water started. She was ready for it this time, patiently waiting for the all-clear signal. 

The hand returned and the water stopped again. "I am loving this!" the big man announced emphatically. Gwen decided he meant the photos rather than the quick feels of her skin. Barry handed her a small towel. "Dry your face off, but leave the rest wet, and c'mon out of there." She followed once he had vacated the doorway and she had folded a protective arm over her breasts. "OK, why don't you move over to the tub." She saw that while she had been posing, Sandra had been busy preparing a bubble bath.

"I want you to stand next to the tub, your back to me, and take off the toolbelt. Just drop it where you are." Gwen made sure she had her back to the man before removing her arm from her chest, more as an attempt at teasing than modesty. The belt was released and gently dropped. 

"Now, slide those undies down, slowly, and leave them on the belt." This too was done, Gwen reveling in the fact she was completely naked in front of this strange man. The idea he might have something growing in appreciation danced in her mind. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 16



"OK, climb in the tub, very slowly." Gently she lifted one foot over the edge, dipping it into the warm soapy water before finding the bottom. She used both of her hands to steady herself, then lowered herself in, sliding under the bubbles. Heaven. The Slut had a wicked thought to run her finger over her clit under the cover of the bubbles, but Gwen was able to quash that notion. 

Barry spent the next quarter hour posing her after Sandra had touched up her makeup one final time, the bubbles being moved about to provide strategic cover, Gwen no longer caring what the camera saw. Her final pose was of her peering over the edge of the antique tub, left hand next to her cheek while her wedding ring sparkled. There was an unmistakable look of mischief in her eyes. 

Barry loudly pronounced himself satisfied, and Gwen lifted herself from the water as Sandra handed her a towel. She dried her nude form, not caring who saw her that way. Natalie was more than a little surprised to see that the only thing her sister wore for the walk back to the Garden room was a towel wrapped about her wet hair.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 17



(This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.)

It was late afternoon when Natalie pulled the SUV back out on the main road to begin the three hour trip home. Gwen had reminded Barry several times to let her know as soon as the photos were ready while excitedly gushing her thank yous and goodbyes to the McCalls and the innkeepers. 

"Well? You OK? Was it as painful as you thought it would be?" Natalie asked as she accelerated down the two lane highway. She already knew the answer. Gwen was more animated than she had ever seen her before, a smile plastered on her face, cheeks rosy not with embarrassment, but with excitement. 

"Natalie, I can't believe I did that!" she shouted. "That was so not like me!" The roller coaster was pulling back into the loading area, and she knew she wanted to go again. "Yes, I guess it was fun."

"Told you. It's nice to step out of your skin—and your clothes-from time to time, isn't it?" 

Gwen nodded urgently. "I was COMPLETELY naked in front of a strange man! He saw everything! I would never have believed in a million years I could have done that! I hope the pictures don't show just how naked I was..."

"He'll show however much you want. I kinda wish I had shown more in mine...although Adam says that what little I did show is enough to give him all he needs to rub one out when I'm not around." Gwen giggled at the mention of her brother's masturbatory habits, surprised that the thought of him touching himself did not make her nearly as uncomfortable as she thought it should. 

"Speaking of which," Natalie continued, "how are you feeling?"

"Great! Relieved that it's over, and I should probably be ashamed of myself for being that perverted, but it was such a thrill...I have to admit," she said in a lower voice, "that after a while I wanted Barry to look at me. I kept telling myself I wasn't being unfaithful to Tim, that I was doing it for him." 

"You weren't being unfaithful, and Tim will agree when he gets his gift. But really, how are you feeling? I remember how horny I was after I finished. Aren't you, maybe just a little?" 

Gwen was mildly shocked at the bluntness of her question. "If you must know, I am," she replied with a reserved smile. 

"There's a vibrator in the glove compartment," her sister said casually. "Go ahead and take care of business if you want." 

"WHAT! Here? In a moving car? With you right next to me?"

"You're not driving," Natalie replied calmly as she stared forward, a smirk on her face. "This thing sits high enough that most other cars can't see in, and the windows are tinted for the occasional semi. As for me, I've seen it all before—college, remember? There's a blanket on the backseat if you feel the need to preserve some modesty."

"Thank you, but I'm sure I can wait until I get home!"

"Well, it's in there if you need it." 

"Do you always carry a vibrator in your car? Don't you worry someone might find it? "

Natalie laughed. "I brought it along just for you. After my shoot, I was so worked up I had to pull over on the way home, not too far from here," Natalie said with a wider smile as her eyes stayed on the road. "Put the seat back, dropped my shorts, and came so hard thought I was going to pass out. I just figured you might want to do the same." 

Maybe if I just reclined the seat and put the blanket over my lap, it wouldn't be so bad, Gwen reasoned before the Lady firmly rejected the idea. If the carnal urges flowing through her could not be banished, they would have to wait until she reached the safety of her bedroom. The Slut was already making alternate arrangements should Tim not be available to service her when she got there. "It was very nice of you to think of me, but I can wait."

Gwen paused her excited chattering to further consider the idea, the adrenaline of the day only wearing off slowly. 

"Hey, sorry if me and Liz sharing a room freaked you out, and really sorry if we made too much noise last night," Natalie said as her sister began to imagine what the vibrator might look like. "I didn't realize how much you could hear through the wall until I heard you tossing and turning."

"That's alright. I should have known you would be in the same room, it just honestly never occurred to me. And since you were, I guessed what the noise was all about." 

Natalie smiled. "I'm probably sharing too much information, but I really hadn't planned on anything happening last night. Liz was very insistent, though... and I definitely shouldn't be telling you this, but I think the reason she was so turned on was you." 

"Me?" 

"Yup, you. She's always had this thing about seeing the secret side of prim and proper, shy and innocent, whatever you want to call it, that kind of woman, if you know what I mean." 

"But, she knows I'm married, so why would she think I like...would do...would be attracted to a woman? Unless," Gwen continued, voice rising in panic, "she knows about what I did before I got married?"

"Relax," Natalie said with a chuckle. "She doesn't know anything about that. She just knows you as the stuck up old stick in the mud she think you used to be, and she's always had this thing about being the one to show someone like you how much fun it could be to explore the alternatives. So when she found out why you were coming to town, and then got to see you trying on 'come fuck me' outfits, well, let's just say she's never been shy about acting on her impulses." 

"To tell you the truth, I would never have imagined her being like that,before you told me about you and her," Gwen said as she began to imagine what Liz's skin might feel like. Like silk, she decided, warm, luxurious silk. "She just always seemed so reserved, like royalty, every time I met her." 

"And that's how a lot of people see you," Natalie reminded her. "Even I thought of you that way until you told me about your dreams. But now I know there's a pleasure goddess beneath those buttoned up shirts, just like Liz." 

Yeah, just like Liz, Gwen thought sarcastically. Except she's tall, beautiful, and a great dresser with tons of self-confidence. 

"She was joking last night that she was going to your room to help you get over your nerves," Natalie continued. "I kinda think she was hoping I would dare her to." 

The thought of Liz, dressed in her black robe or something less, coming into her room made Gwen pause for a moment. "Oh, my. good thing you didn't dare her," she finally offered.

"Well, that sounded convincing...want me to tell her you're available?" 

Gwen turned quickly, mouth retort forming, to see Natalie looking out at the road, a grin on her face. 

Her sister's lewd implication failed to diminish Gwen's post-shoot excitement, and the pair continued to chatter until the Nelson's front yard was reached. 

"Getting ready for our trip to Hilton Head, so I can't ride on Friday," Natalie reminded her as the pair made their way to the back of the vehicle to retrieve Gwen's overnight bag. "But I'll call you before we go?"

"I'd like that." Gwen hugged the woman tightly. "Thank you. I could never have done that without you." 

"You're welcome. I knew you were a natural." 

"Don't forget the vibrator in your glove compartment." 

Natalie laughed. "Maybe I'll use it before I get back on the road." 

Despite her threat, the SUV honked and disappeared behind the trees as Gwen stepped on to the kitchen deck.

"Hey, welcome home," Tim called over his shoulder from his spot in front of the stove. "I was just getting ready to boil up some water for pasta—would you like some?" 

"Maybe later." Gwen came up behind her husband and wrapped her arms around him as he turned again to give her a quick peck. "Just us tonight?"

"Just us, like every other night since KD left for college. Did you have a good time?" He did his best to turn and face her as she continued to hold him tightly. 

"Mmm-hmm," she said as she put her head on his shoulder and hugged harder, hands traveling over his shorts to rest on his butt. "I was surprised how much fun it was to be out with the girls." 

"Girls? So you and Natalie had company?" 

"We stayed at Liz's condo. She went shopping with us, went out to dinner, talked...that kind of thing."

"Liz? The Liz that Natalie, uhh, Natalie's...Natalie's maid of honor?" 

"That's her. She's nice." 

Tim's mind whirled in a mess of overlapping thoughts. Gwen's hands were on his ass. That never happened in the kitchen. She had stayed overnight with two women he knew slept together. Had they gotten friendly with his wife present? Had they gotten friendly with her? Where did they go shopping? What about the hands on his ass? What the hell happened last weekend? 

His cock suffered no such confusion, the part of his brain that controlled it laser-focused on an image of his naked sister and her equally naked redheaded friend making out on a couch. He continued to stiffen beneath his gym shorts while he tried to figure out how to fit his wife in to the entwined bodies. 

Gwen did not miss the quickly growing length pressing against her stomach. "I guess you missed me," she said from her spot on his shoulder while a hand snaked its way to his groin and began to lightly stroke him through the fabric. 

"That obvious, huh?"

"I'm flattered. Would you like me to take care of it for you?" 

Tim was surprised by her forwardness but ready to follow his wife to the bedroom. He was stunned as she sank to her knees before her could answer, fingers lightly dragging the baggy shorts down to allow his nearly-erect staff to pop free just inches from her nose. A tongue dragged lightly up the underside of his length helped speed it's swelling. Her lips parted after the second swipe and wrapped themselves around his velvety head. She slowly dipped, pushing him across her tongue and into her mouth. 

Tim was in heaven and in shock. The woman who just a short time ago could only participate in basic procreation in the safety of their darkened bedroom was sucking his cock in their kitchen! The feelings, both physical and emotional, were indescribable. Her efforts were no longer tentative, as they had been those first times she had taken him in her mouth; she seemed to be relishing her newly discovered talent. 

She got to her feet after one more long, slow drag of her lips up his incredibly hard member. "C'mon. Let's go get more comfortable." Gwen walked away without looking back at the man with his shorts about his knees, ass swaying an invitation to follow. 

Tim stayed where he was as she disappeared around the corner and down the hall, mind dumbly weighing the merits of pulling his shorts up as opposed to just letting them slide the rest of the way down his legs. His cock screamed at his indecision, and legs were bought together enough to allow the offending garment to drop to the floor before he stumbled his way out of them and hurried after his wife. His t-shirt was pulled over his head as he hurried down the hall, and walked into the bedroom to find Gwen standing with her back to the door, jeans already discarded, blouse about to follow.

He stepped behind her, reaching for the clasp of her bra as soon as the falling shirt revealed His stubbled cheek tickled her as he kissed her ear, his erection nestled between the gloves of her ass, her underwear the only thing between him and skin. Gwen tilted her head to allow him access to her neck while his hands began to play with the now exposed mounds of her breasts. Her nipples stood proudly, grateful for the attention from Tim's calloused fingers but aching for the feel of his tongue. It was the maleness wedged so close to her sex that fought for her attention, however. Gwen reluctantly brought her hips forward, away from what she wanted in her, and pushed her panties down. They were barely clear of her hips before she thrust herself back into her husband's midsection and ground against him shamelessly, making her desire to be mounted and filled obvious. 

The lust-filled woman gently pulled away from her husband's grasp and crawled on the bed before turning over to face him, legs opening wide in invitation. 

"Holy Cow Gwen, what happened to your hair?!"

A look of panic replaced the seduction on her face as she clamped her legs shut. She had completely forgotten Natalie's efforts! "I, uh, trimmed it last night," she said fearfully, looking for any reaction beyond the surprise her husband was currently displaying. "You don't like it?"

"No, no, I love it," he hurriedly reassured her. "It's just that I've, uhh, never seen you...that bare...before. It's quite a difference."

"It'll grow back," she babbled, the Lady smugly announcing that Tim hated it, that he believed his wife trampish for doing such a thing.

"No, I really like it," he said more softly, eyes glued to where her drawn-up legs hid the object of his fascination. "I've just never seen you like that before." Tim dropped to a knee, as if he were worshiping at a shrine, and gently reached to pull apart her legs. He looked on for a moment, Gwen feeling as though she were waiting for his pronouncement of disgust as he did so, and then bent forward to kiss her bare sex. "You're so soft and smooth down there," he murmured before his tongue began to work. 

She still wanted the feel of her husband inside of her, but what Tim was doing to her now made her ultimate goal worth waiting for. An idea, a nasty, perverted idea, formed. 

"Tim?" 

The salt-and-pepper topped head between her legs came up. "Hmm?"

"Why don't you bring yourself up here where I can return the favor?" 

He looked at her uncertainly. "Uhh, sure."

Tim began to climb on the bed, ready to lie down next to her, but Gwen stopped him. "No, I'd love for you to keep doing that, but let me do the same thing to you at the same time." 

She had to stifle a laugh as the lightbulb went on in his head and a grin broke out. "Sure, I can do that." Both husband and wife were soon on their sides, Tim's face buried in her crotch while Gwen did her best to reach his raging erection. Their bodies were not evenly matched that way, however, and she soon found herself wishing for another way to keep his tongue busy at work while she took all of him between her lips. Without thinking, she began to push him on to his back while she rolled her body on top of him, thighs straddling his head. She found she could still not take him in her mouth without losing the decadent pleasure of his tongue, but she was becoming too far gone to care. Gwen began to grind herself into the face between her legs while contenting herself with petting the cock below her. Memories how she had been in this position before—and Tim's position, as well—flooded her memories. Tim blurred with Miss Ritter, who in turn blurred with Liz. The most shocking image of all, the image of Natalie's nose buried in her opening while her tongue flicked away at Gwen's button, sent her over the edge. She did her best to suppress her cries of joy, as she had been taught to do while in this very pose many years ago, a tiny squeak escaping her as Tim's tongue continued to dance wickedly. 

Her self-control returned enough to make her fear she was smothering her husband. With a start, she lifted herself away from him, intent on climbing off and checking to see if he was still breathing. Strong hands stopped her before she had risen very far, his breath fanning her sex. "What an incredible view," he grumbled while a hand left her thigh and moved to his weapon, levering it up in obvious invitation. 

She bent to accept him while his hips lifted towards her. Lips and cock roughly met, Gwen only barely managing to keep her husband from driving deeply enough to gag her. She quickly discovered that Tim was more than happy to do most of the work, his hips thrusting up into her while she concentrated on providing the finish he was looking for. 

It came soon. Despite his excitement, he did his best not to choke her, hips stopped just short of a full thrust while his head came up and off the bed to bury his face in her sex. The now familiar taste and texture of her husband's sperm filled her mouth, spurts hitting the back of her tongue before sliding forward to pool. Tim's body went limp as the last driblets left him, and Gwen swallowed, the act and the taste somehow both intensely erotic and deeply comforting, a thoroughly slutty thing to do for the man she would do anything for. Satisfied, he finally let her climb off and cuddle beside him, two naked bodies lying in the wrong direction on the bed.

"That was incredible," Tim told her after she had settled under his arm.

"It sure was." 

"So, I have to ask...what made you change your hairstyle down there?"

"You don't like it." 

"I love it! It's just different for you, that's all. I never thought you had it in you."

Gwen decided a little truth was better than none at all. "Well, I heard Natalie and Liz talking about it, so I thought I might try it as well." 

"Natalie and Liz?"

"Liz asked Natalie to give her a trim. I guess Nat's nursing experience comes in handy for a lot of things." 

From her position on Tim's chest, she could see his flaccid member show signs of recovery far faster than she would have imagined possible. Something in her flared, something wicked, and the Slut staggered to her feet from where she lay sprawled in orgasmic bliss on Gwen's shoulder. She wanted to see how far she could take this. 

"To tell you the truth, I don't think a trim is all Natalie gave her." 

Tim's cock twitched again. "What do you mean?" 

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, but my room was next to theirs, and I heard some things. I wasn't trying to listen in," she added hurriedly, "but you know how you always say the developer-built stuff isn't the best quality?"

"The walls can be pretty thin," Tim agreed. "So, what did you hear?"

"I don't know, just things that made me think they were fooling around. Some laughing, the bed squeaking, that kind of thing." She smiled inwardly. His penis, so recently drained, was beginning to rise. The Lady was taken aback that he would react that way to the thought of two women having sex while admonishing her for teasing him that way. The Slut continued to egg her on. 

"That must have made you uncomfortable, to be having them doing that where you could hear them."

"I was uncomfortable, but not that way. It made me, you know, a little excited... I know how perverted it sounds, but I really wanted to, ummm, touch myself...down there. If I wasn't in somebody else's house..."

"What's fair is fair," he reasoned. "If they were OK with doing what they were doing, you should have been OK with taking care of yourself." 

Gwen reached down to pet his now-erect staff. Tim flinched, hoping that his wife would assume the evidence of his fresh arousal was due to the thought of her playing with herself. "Timothy Allen Nelson!" she exclaimed softly, "are you getting excited at the thought of your sister with another woman?"

Busted, he thought ruefully, the realization making the physical evidence begin its backwards trek. "Sorry, us guys are kinda hard-wired that way."

"Well, I don't think of two men that way!" The tone of her voice and the hand on his cock told him she wasn't nearly as upset as he'd assumed she would be. 

"Like I said, it's a guy thing, I guess."

The two lay there in silence for a moment, his erection confused by the mixed signals it was getting. 

"Did you ever think of me and Miss Ritter that way?" 

Tim knew it would be wrong to tell her the truth, but his cock had no such qualms. "Yeah, I guess," he admitted as he began to grow again under her touch. "Sorry."

"It's OK, but your own wife doing—that—with another woman? I would have thought something like that would make you angry to think even think about."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 17



His hand casually traced lines down her back to the cleft of her butt. "No, not really...you chose me, and a plumbing business, and motherhood, over a life of international horse shows."

The Lady screamed at her to drop the subject, to remove her hand from her husband's manhood and storm off in mock indignation, anything to make a clear statement about her morals. The Slut was stronger though, and used Gwen's growing arousal to goad her on. 

"But you would have been angry if I had done—that-with Liz this weekend, right?"

Tim's hand froze in mid-stroke on the small of her back, and she could swear his erection throbbed. "Did you?"

"No, of course not, but if I had..." 

"As long you were honest with me, no I wouldn't be mad. If it was because you were dissatisfied with me, or your life, I'd be disappointed, but I'd understand and I'd still want to know. You didn't, did you?"

"No, I swear I didn't. But... are you just saying that because you want to be with another woman?"

"No, I'm saying it because I have no problem with you having a good time as long as there's not something else wrong. If you feel you can be happily married and enjoy time with the girls, more power to you. It seems to work for Adam and Natalie, so it sounds like it can be done. I know me being with someone would be really tough on you, and I'm fine with just you, especially the way things have been going lately. What Natalie said about it just being something some girls do with their friends kinda makes sense. You girls are way more touchy-feely with each other than us guys would ever dare. As long as you weren't planning on moving in with Liz, have at it." 

Gwen marveled at the full-blown erection she now held so soon after it had been satiated. "Would you be mad if I told you Natalie helped with my trim?" 

Again is hand stopped its motion. "Now you're just playing with me. Is that the truth?" 

"Actually, she did all of it. I just lay—" Tim surprised her with the speed of his movement, flipping his wife on to her back and pushing himself between her legs as fast as she could open up for him. He was buried in her in one forceful thrust. 

Tim looked down at her, a look in his eyes that Gwen could never remember seeing before. She was suddenly a little afraid, and very aroused. She knew she was about to be taken. His staff was withdrawn, then plunged back in to the hilt. "Tell me about it. I want to hear everything." 

Gwen recounted the events of the previous evening while he slammed into her, only breaking his stare and burying his face beside her head when Liz entered the room in her story. He came, seeming to try and crawl deeper inside of her as he emptied himself. 

At last, spent, he rolled to his side. "Sorry about that," he mumbled. "I really don't know what came over me." 

"It's alright. I've never seen you like that before. Are you sure you're not mad at me?" 

Tim chuckled weakly. "No, I'm not mad at you. I just never thought I'd hear that kind of story come out of your mouth and...I guess I just got carried away. Sorry again."

"No need to be sorry. As long as you weren't doing that out because you were mad, I liked it. It was fun." 

"Keep telling stories like that, and you'll see it again. It might kill me, though. I don't think I can move." 

Despite Tim's professed weakness, the couple managed to rise and dine on bowls of cereal before returning to bed, falling asleep in each other's arms.

The reality of a workday brought Gwen back to earth after her long weekend, and order and routine returned. Trucks were dispatched and the wreckage of the office without her presence was surveyed. The lust that their second round of lovemaking the night before had generated had not dissipated though, and shortly after the last pile of papers was at least sorted correctly, she made her way back to the house. 

Gwen removed the toys from their hiding place before removing her clothes, memories of trying to dress while hiding them fresh in her mind. To her relief, this time the vibrators and dildo were where she had left them. She decided to check the lock on the kitchen door one more time before climbing on the bed, and boldly walked through the house in the nude. 

The lock was secure from her first trip into the house, and strolled back towards the bedroom, anxious to relive the itch that had building in her since Tim roughly took her the night before. She glanced at his recliner and stopped. Didn't he say he had masturbated in that very chair? An image of her husband, prone and naked, his hand about his penis, came to her. What would it be like to do it out here? A thrill ran through her as she stared at the blue fabric seat. Gwen made the trip down the hall, scooped up the rabbit and the heavy dark cudgel, and returned. She peered nervously out the window towards the shop one more time before settling into the chair and flipping the foot rest up. The nude woman began to caress skin, nipples, and clitoris while her mind wandered, memories of Tim interspersed with returns to the here and now to listen for intruders. Other more taboo thoughts began to form before the vibrator was applied. 

Gwen shivered at the intense tingling the rabbit was delivering as she was again in Liz's spare room, the tall redhead on the bed this time, naked and spread. Gwen kneeled between her legs, deftly wielding a razor across her mons with more skill than she knew she really had, carefully ensuring the woman's sex remained silky smooth. "All done," she pronounced as her finger traveled up the wet slit, like Natalie had done.

Liz rose until she leaned back on her elbows. "Kiss it," she ordered, and Gwen obeyed, lips traveling across the redhead's most private spots. Her tongue slipped out, as if on its own accord, and drew itself through the soft folds, gathering the familiar nectar she had not tasted in so long. Her climax began to gather. 

The Lady chose this moment to exert herself mightily, demanding that if Gwen was going to insist on the living room to perform perform this perverted act, she at least perform it with her husband in mind. The chocolate-colored dildo was retrieved, and Gwen sat up enough to watch with fascination as she began to slide into her sex. She had never watched Tim insert himself before, and although the penis now disappearing into her opening was bigger and darker than him, it was close enough for her imagination. She welcomed the now-familiar stretch and the sight of the dark testicles snug against her nether lips while the vibrator hummed against her clit. Heels were firmly planted against the edge of the chair's footrest while she pushed against the invader lodged inside her. Gwen thrashed while she ground out her orgasm, teeth gritted to avoid calling out. The waves came and went, slowly diminishing, until she lay there, dimly aware that she should move before someone came in and found her in a terribly compromising position. 

Eventually the satisfied woman made her way back across the yard to her office, no longer quite as concerned about what it would take to catch up from her day off.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 18



(This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.)

*****

A hectic schedule and pangs of remorse allowed the Lady to re-establish a modicum of decency to Gwen's life the week following her adventure. Clothes stayed on and toys remained in the closet as Tim worked late three of the nights, and she was leaving for a Chamber of Commerce meeting the only evening his truck rolled in on time. Even the one lunchtime swim she took featured her bikini. 

Still, as she sat in the Chamber's conference room and listened to Gloria Parker discuss the details of the upcoming membership drive, Gwen could not help but look about at the other attendees and wonder what they would think if they knew what she had done just a couple of days earlier. What a scandal that would be!

And what secrets did her fellow Chamber members have, the Slut asked? Had Gloria ever posed for naked pictures? And what about the nice young man across the table from her, Nick Menounos? Had he ever done something others might find shocking? What exactly did she find shocking nowadays? A quick recounting of her mental list, started at her mother's urging so long ago and carefully tended to over the years, showed many attitudes and activities that no longer evoked the same levels of discomfort they had a short time ago. Many of the things she had imagined as decadent or disgusting now had a certain allure to them—for other people, of course, not for her, she quickly reminded herself.

A mental image of the young mechanic across from her, naked and wet as he emerged from the pool like in those cologne ads, drew the Lady's wrath. You. Married. Him. Young enough to be your son. Gwen smiled to herself and did her best to concentrate on Gloria's plan for the booth at the upcoming downtown festival. 

The dream returned that night for the first time in a long time. Again she was naked and bound on the now familiar mall center stage, the focal point of the crowd of men and women all about her. This time, her keeper made herself known. Natalie stood to her side, dressed in a slutty mockery of the grooms she had seen tending horses at auctions, tight jeans and a flannel shirt tied shut about her midsection. Unlike those grooms, her sister held a riding crop to remind her charge of the need for posture, as Miss Ritter had all those years ago. Below her, between the platform and the throng of onlookers, stood Liz, dressed in the same business suit she had been wearing when she left the condo the morning of Gwen's photo shoot. The tall redhead eyed her thoughtfully, hand to chin, examining the naked woman critically. At length, she spoke.

"You say she's already been broken?"

"She was trained when she was younger, but as I'm sure you know, once broken, always broken."

"I do like them obedient..." She began to ascend the stairs. "Alright, I'll take her."

Gwen awoke with a start as Liz reached to pet her cheek. The task of separating reality from dream was not filled with the same dread as her first episodes when she had feared mental illness, but there it still brought concerns that perhaps her more relaxed attitudes might not be healthy. Perhaps a return to decency was overdue, the ever-alert Lady reminded her. Sleep returned without Gwen having to make that commitment. 

The dream was still fresh in her mind when Natalie called the next morning. Due to its perverted nature and her sister's co-starring role, Gwen did not bring it up as they talked for nearly a half-hour before they said their goodbyes, Natalie voicing her excitement over the likelihood the photos would be ready for viewing by the time she returned from vacation. 

Tim was surprised to see Gwen putting on her one-piece for their after-work swim Friday evening. Concerns quickly filled his mind as he reviewed their conversation from a few nights previous, wondering if he had somehow frightened or angered her into some sort of attitude regression. Nonetheless, he reluctantly grabbed for his own suit and led the way up the hill. 

The pleasant, relaxed attitude she displayed at the pool and during dinner further confused him. She didn't seem upset, just more like she had been before things had started getting...interesting. It was not a topic he dared broach however, and let it lie. Their lovemaking that night was also a throwback to the old days, under the covers, in the dark, methodical and to the point. Oh well, Tim sighed, it was fun while it lasted. 

Gwen awoke the next morning at her usual time, a little edgy and frustrated. This return to decency might be making the Lady happier, but it certainly was less fun than what she had been experiencing the last few weeks. Their lovemaking the night before had left her both wanting more and an appropriate finish to what it had started, and she wondered if another session with Tim might be permissible. Instead, she made breakfast. 

I need new underwear, she decided as she drove into town for groceries that morning. A stop at the mall would definitely be needed before she did the food shopping. You've got plenty of underwear, the Lady argued, but Gwen disagreed. Much of it was old, almost falling apart. The Slut snickered, knowing that to be far short of the truth. 

Gwen found herself standing on top of the mall's center stage twenty minutes later, unable to resist the urge to mix reality with her dreams. She allowed herself to tarry a moment, turning slowly. To the passerbys she looked like a woman searching for a planned rendezvous, but in her fantasy, she was turning for inspection. She finally dismissed the thought with a nervous laugh and a shake of her head, and made her way towards her destination. 

Gwen found her way to the lingerie section of Crandall's, to the racks and bins she knew held her time-tested preferences. Old habits lingered as she looked about the bustling department nervously, initially unwilling to make it obvious to the other customers what she was looking for, that she might be shopping for garments that would cover her most private parts. 

The Slut managed to strike a spark of daring that soon kindled a low flame, and she began to openly browse the familiar no-nonsense pieces, holding them up to examine them, making it clear they were for her. Her attention gradually shifted from the more conservative items to things more daring, low cut-bras and high-cut panties, colors other than her traditional whites. She spent some time deliberating, going so far as to make eye contact and smile at an older man a few feet away while she held a pair of bikini-cut undies up between them. He smiled back with an embarrassed look and averted his eyes, certain he had been caught. 

Gwen eventually settled on several items, each more daring than she had ever bought before, and brazenly piled them in front of the cashier while several shoppers behind her waited their turn. Purchases made, the Lady convinced her that she had been wild enough for the day and urged her to head for the grocery store. Gwen complied, smiling at the thought of the contents in her bag, and made for the exit. A display rack just before she reached the mall corridor stopped her. A selection of tennis skirts, shorter than she had ever even considered wearing before, had attracted the attention of the Slut. Try one on, just for fun, she goaded. The Lady did her best to spur her on to the relative safety of the mall, but Gwen just stood and gently lifted the hem of one away from its sisters. She chewed her bottom lip for some time before taking it off the rack. Well, it wouldn't hurt to try it on...she was soon back at the dressing rooms, the memories of her earlier trips vivid. She was surprised by her disappointment in finding the cubicles nearest the waiting area occupied, and briefly considered waiting for one to open before coming to her senses and making her way to a spot near the back of the corridor. Gwen left the curtain open a bit, knowing it unlikely that anyone would see her back here, but not giving up on the possibility. 

I could just try it on over my pants, she thought, but quickly dismissed that. No, she decided, she should see just how much leg it would leave bare. Her jeans were quickly discarded but her panties were left in place in a bow to sensibility and modesty, and the skirt was wrapped about her waist. She quickly discovered it ended midway up her thigh, much shorter than anything she had ever worn in public. It wasn't filmy or split, but it showed a lot of leg...middle-aged women shouldn't be seen in such things, the Lady huffed. Most men would disagree, The Slut chuckled. 

Gwen modeled for herself in the mirror for some time, turning this way and that. Decision made, she returned to her jeans, paid for the skirt, and confidently marched out of the store and back to her truck. 

The packages were placed on the seat beside her as she turned the key to bring the vehicle and its air conditioning to life. Sweat trickled down her chest and into her bra as she sat in the stifling heat, thinking about what she had just done. Gwen found she had no desire to let the excitement of her buying spree go so soon, and continued to glance at the bags as the blowing air turned from hot to tepid. Where would she wear a skirt like that, she mused. Grocery shopping, the Slut replied. Gwen dismissed the idea—she wasn't about to go home to get changed into THAT, and then out again. Maybe she didn't need to go home...an idea began to form as she looked about the parking lot, noting that her truck stood at or above the other vehicles about her. Nervously she pulled out the skirt, examining it for any defects before carefully removing the tags. From the bag of underwear she pulled a pair of cream-colored French cut bikini panties, laying them on the seat before covering them with the bag lest anyone look in and see them lying there. Gwen looked about, checking her mirrors for the approach of an unwary mall patron or worse, before she kicked off her sandals and slouched in the seat to undo the button of her pants. The zipper was pushed down while she did another scan. With a deep breath, her hips came up off the seat just enough to allow her to push the jeans down to her knees before she again slumped into the upholstery and slid them down to her ankles where they were hurriedly kicked off. Gwen knew speed was now of the essence, and her underwear followed her jeans to the floor mat while her heart pounded with the thought that mall security—or the police—would be knocking on her window any second. She couldn't deny the illicit thrill of being naked from the waist down in the middle of a busy mall parking lot, but quickly did her best to thread the pink panties over her ankles and pull them up while keeping her hips below window level. She still did not want to have to explain why she was in her truck in nothing but her underwear and grabbed for the skirt. 

Gwen found the successful arrangement of this piece a bit more difficult as she attempted to get it about her and tuck in her blouse while constantly checking her surroundings, but she eventually completed the task. The chill of the air conditioning struck her bare thighs as she worked her sandals back onto her feet, the act of bending over pulling the skirt dangerously far up her legs and giving her second thoughts about wearing this to the store. 

Gwen almost lost her nerve and fully intended to drive by the shopping center before diving into the left-turn lane at the last moment. She faced her first problem after bringing the truck to a halt in the parking lot. How to get down out of the big vehicle without giving everyone a show? She was thankful for the car parked next to her, the sedan offering some protection as she opened her door and swung both legs out before gingerly stepping down onto the running board, then the pavement. Senses on high alert, she checked and rechecked her skirt and blouse from the relative safety between the two vehicles before making her way into the store. A gentle breeze blowing up and tickling her partially covered cheeks reminded her just how short this thing was, and again she almost lost her will before grabbing a cart and pushing on. To her relief, nobody seemed to stare or shake their heads in disgust, although Gwen did catch a couple of men giving her admiring glances when they thought she was not looking. 

The shopping list was too extensive for Gwen to act on her impulse to grab a few things and go. She moved carefully, delicately crouching to take items from lower shelves, conscious of cool air against the bottom of her thighs as the skirt rode up her legs. She was sure any glimpse of her flesh-colored underwear would leave the voyeur believing she wore nothing at all. The scenario had a certain perverse thrill to it...She managed to make it to the paper goods aisle, noting she was alone there. Gwen bent at the waist to reach for a roll of paper towels, certain her panty-covered bum would have been visible to everyone else in the aisle had they needed cleaning products at that moment. 

The bored teenaged cashier seemed unaffected by her attire, the bagger a little more so, as Gwen checked out. She managed to load the truck with her purchases without any further exposure and climbed back into the cab with as much as care as she had shown getting out. The drive home was without incident, and soon the vehicle was crunching to a stop in the Nelson's gravel driveway. Tim saw her arrival, and wandered over from his workshop to help with the groceries he knew she had gone out to get. 

"You were gone a wh—" he stopped as mid-sentence as a pair of bare legs swung out from the open door. A wild thought that she was bottomless struck him before skirt-covered thigh finally appeared, followed by the rest of his wife. 

"Sorry, I stopped at the mall for a few things," she replied as sandaled feet found the gravel

"Was that one of the things?"

Gwen followed her husband's stare to her midsection. Umm, yes, yes it was. Is it too short?"

On a lot of middle-aged women, yes, he thought, but not you. "No, no, looks great. I like the color." His attention was still on the skirt.

"I've got groceries in the back. If you bring them in, I'll put them away?"

Tim looked up. "Uh, yeah, sure..." He quickly decided not to ask any more questions and just enjoy the view. Chores filled the afternoon, and he was pleased to see that while Gwen wore her bikini up to the pool for an afternoon swim, it was discarded before it even got wet. Beer and wine on the pool deck was shared without a stitch of clothing on husband or wife. 

Gwen carried the suit with her as she and Tim made their way iback down to the house in the gathering darkness. A robe was all she wore as more chores were completed before bed, her husband not even bothering to make that concession to the state he had left the pool in. She giggled as he clumped out to the barn in his workboots and nothing else to make one last check. What he would do if someone were to pull into the yard right then? Would he scream and run for the house? Hide in the barn? Smile and greet and the visitor as though it were the most natural thing in the world to be completely naked outside? What would she do in those same situations? Her smile disappeared as she realized the scenario was becoming more arousing than embarrassing. 

The semi-erection her husband sported as they made their way to the bedroom made Gwen neglect to put on either nightgown or t-shirt after she removed her robe. Tim lay there patiently, encouraged that his wife had come to bed nude, but waiting for her to extinguish the light before he made his opening move. He was somewhat perplexed when she lay back with eyes closed and lamp still lit. 

Tentatively he reached for her, unsure of what Gwen could be waiting for. She had never turned him away before, and she had certainly been more receptive lately than she ever had been, but the last week had been more like the old days, and the weekend's lack of attire only added to his confusion. 

Their lips met as his hand snaked under the covers to find her bare hip while her arms wrapped around his neck to draw him closer. They took their time, hands and fingers moving over each other's bodies while avoiding the most obvious pleasure points, lips locked while tongues furtively danced together. Tim's kisses slowly began to make their way down her neck and into the valley of her breasts, occasionally climbing up their slopes, then falling back before they reached the stiffening peaks. 

Gwen's hands made their way ever closer to her husband's penis before withdrawing again to begin the trek back. The pleasure she was getting from his attention to her breasts did not distract her from the fact that his hips and lower body were doing their best to bring his staff into contact with her teasing fingers. The Lady chided her for teasing him, but the Slut wanted to find out if her teasing might cause him to dispense with the niceties of husband and wife lovemaking and take her roughly. 

She smiled as his lips found a turgid nipple while a hand forced itself between her legs and his penis ground against her thigh. Fingers and mouth worked with a growing sense of urgency, sometimes lightly caressing her clitoris, sometimes roughly filling her opening with a thick callused digit while his tongue danced about her areolae. She clung to his muscular body and felt the thickness between his legs slide wetly across her thigh as her orgasm built steam.

She was lifted, finding herself astride him in one fluid motion, looking down in surprise at him as his length made its presence known at her sex. Tim's hands gently but firmly pushed her hips down, his staff parting her lips and filling her. Her clitoris pressed firmly against her husband's pubic bone, Gwen instinctively fell forward and buried her face in his neck while Tim began to thrust. She clung to his neck for dear life as her climax exploded, dimly aware the body beneath her had thankfully stopped moving, saving her from sensory overload. Her own hips began to undulate slightly as the waves lessened, trying to wring little jolts out of every nerve ending in her sex. Spent, she slumped on her husband.

Tim allowed her a moment to recover before rough hands pushed her up the shoulders and put her in a sitting position astride him. His hips began to thrust again, more urgently, more violently, while the hands moved to her tits and began to squeeze. Gwen, still weak from her orgasm, fell forward onto outstretched arms on either side of her husband, not wanting to stop his pounding or the mauling of her breasts. She looked down at her husband through half-open eyes and saw his were squeezed tightly shut, jaw clenched as he worked up to his own climax. Skin slapped against skin as he seemed to increase his efforts. Hands suddenly flew from breasts to hip bone, pushing her down against his midsection while he gave one last violent thrust up into her. Tim grunted and did his best to loosen his grip on her shoulders while he filled his wife with his cum.

She waited until the body between her legs relaxed before falling forward again to bury her face next to her husband's stubbled chin. They lay there for some time, Tim lightly scratching her back while Gwen nearly dozed off. She felt the penis inside her finally soften enough to make its retreat from her sex, and with an effort, she rose to make her way to the bathroom and clean up. 

A healthy dollop of Tim's seed fell from her as she lifted a knee from where she straddled his waist, landing with a delicate splat in the nest of hair just above his flaccid length. She quickly looked at him, embarrassment in her eyes. "Stay there, let me go get something to clean you up with," Gwen commanded as she hurried across the bedroom, hand cupped between her legs to prevent any further accidents. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 18



She returned a short time later with a warm washcloth to find that Tim had obeyed her instruction and was even now lying back, arms folded behind his head, smile on his face, the picture of contentment. She suppressed a giggle at the thought that he looked the same way when he had eaten a good meal. The still-nude woman kneeled on the edge of the bed and began to gently daub away the rapidly liquefying glob of pearl-white. She had planned to quickly wipe down the tool that had just helped give her so much pleasure, but another impulse came to mind. Almost without thinking, she bobbed her head and took the soft, spongy member between her lips, gently suckling their mixed juices from it. Both essences, male and female, were easily identifiable to her, one still new and a little strange, the other stirring old memories. Gwen knew how incredibly deviant the act was, and that she didn't care—she just hoped her husband would see it as proof of how much she loved him. 

"Uhh, honey, that feels really, really good, but it might be a little bit before I can go again, if you know what I mean," he said apologetically. "But if you'd like, I can get you ready." 

Gwen released his member and looked back at him. "No, that's alright. Just call that a goodnight kiss and maybe we can continue in the morning." They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Despite their best intentions, the next morning was too busy to follow through on her suggestion. Gwen was in the barn when she heard the expected sound of Alison's car coming up the driveway. Her daughter's busy schedule had kept her from making it up to the house the past few weeks; she had promised that she and Jason would be there for a dinner today. A ride up the ridge was a given. 

"No Jason?" Gwen asked as she exited the stable and looked beyond Ali towards the car.

"Golfing with his boss and a couple of other guys from work. He promised he'd be here in time for dinner."

"There's no hurry—it's just us four, and we're just going to put things on the grill."

The pair made their way up the trail after father had said hello to daughter, Gwen on Dart and Alison on Dancer. Talk revolved around Alison and Jason's busy work schedules, Gwen finding no need to prompt her daughter for details as they chattered. The conversation finally lulled as they reached a fork in the path—Gwen taking a left to go up and over the other side of the hill rather than a right to the family's picnic table—and they rode on in silence for a short distance. 

"Alison, when you, uhh, found those things in my closet, did you show them to Jason?" 

Ali turned to look at her mother, eyes wide. Should she lie? Would she know? Maybe she hadn't completely cleaned up the evidence after all...her upbringing forced out the truth. "I didn't show them to him, he was just kinda there when I found them..." 

Her mother's face twisted into a look of horror. "Oh my God, he must think I'm horribly nasty..." 

"No Mom, he doesn't think that at all! He was fine with it—I mean, it's not the first time he's seen stuff like that...I've got some too, remember?" 

"But his own mother, with those things...I'm so sorry, honey, you must have been so embarrassed."

"Mom, stop! Both he and I think it's cool you, uhh, have things like that. You said you wanted to talk about stuff like this, so here goes. Mom, really, we think it's great. I mean, he looks at you as an older version of me. If you're still—active—then, when I get to your age, maybe I'll look as good as you do and will still be...active...too. Like I said, he knows what those things in your boot are for—he knows I use mine. Sometimes, we use them when we're together." 

Gwen blushed and looked down at the Dart's mane at the mention of her daughter's sex life. Thoughts of her daughter, vibrator in hand while her handsome son looked on, popped up before being angrily dismissed by the Lady. "Still..."

"Still nothing," Ali curtly replied in a voice that reminded Gwen of how she would end arguments with her children. 

"And since you got to ask me an embarrassing question," he daughter continued while drawing a deep breath, "I get to ask you one." 

Embarrassing for you? Gwen thought. Imagine how I feel! She said nothing and waited. 

"Are you and Daddy, umm, OK in the bedroom?" 

The older woman's eyes snapped to her daughter's face to find her resolutely staring forward, blushing furiously. "Everything is just fine there," she replied edgily. "We had you and your sister, didn't we?" 

"Twenty-three and nineteen years ago, respectively," Ali drily reminded her. "Jason gets a little cranky if we don't...you know...at least twice a week." 

The image of her daughter and son made another appearance before again being banished. "Everything is just fine," Gwen repeated in a calmer voice. "Why would you even ask that?" 

Alison hesitated before answering. "Well, when I was in school, a lot of my friends said that if you don't give guys...that, they'll find it somewhere, and even though Aunt Natalie did a pretty good job of convincing me it was only true for some guys, and those were the ones that were always looking for more no matter how much you gave 'em, I just always kinda assumed that you and Daddy weren't doing it much, and I always worried that he might try and find it somewhere else. I mean, he's my father, but he's still a guy...

But when I found your vibrators, I thought that maybe Daddy was the one who didn't want to, you know, and you were just taking care of yourself." 

Your Aunt Natalie gave them to me, remember?" Gwen reminded her. "And you have some, too. You just said you and Jason were, uhh, active." 

"We are! But I've had mine ever since I was teenager, before I knew Jason, and he travels a lot, so they help when he's gone...besides, like I said, it turns him on to watch me using mine. Oh God, I can't believe I told my own mother that!" 

"Seems like we're both telling each other things we would never imagine hearing." And if I told you what I had in my mouth last night, she thought, you'd probably gallop off screaming. "But to answer your question again, yes, everything is fine, I'm fine, your father is fine, and we're both fine in that department. Alright?" 

The calming smile on her mother's face did its work. Alison smiled back, and the discussion eventually returned to more mundane topics. 

Both women were more than ready for a swim after their ride and made their way to their respective bedrooms to change. Alison pulled on the tried and true bikini she had left at the house for these occasions, smiling as she remembered her mother's faint hints of disapproval at her selection every time she had worn it in the past. She was therefore surprised to step into the kitchen to find her mother dressed in a two-piece even more revealing than her own. 

"Wow Mom, lookin' good!" 

Gwen blushed and resisted the urge to reach for something to cover up. "Thank you. I'm hoping Jason won't be over until I've changed into something more appropriate."

"I think Jason's gonna be disappointed if he gets here after you change." Gwen shot her daughter a stare, but Alison just laughed and made her way up to the pool. 

Mother and daughter were soon joined by Tim, and the three cooled off for some time before Gwen made her way back down to the house to begin dinner preparations. Alison and her father joined her soon after. 

Jason's mother was dressed in more conservative jeans and a blouse when he arrived an hour later. The young man had obviously been sweating heavily even thought the drive had given the air conditioning time to dry his shorts and shirt, and after a quick kiss from his wife, was sent to shower. 

"Use our bathroom, dear," Gwen called from over her shoulder as she worked at the stove. "I just cleaned it this morning. I left some towels out for you." Jason made his way down the hall and closed the door behind him before beginning to strip. He briefly considered a plan to get Ali in there with him for a little fun, but discarded the idea as too risky and too obvious. When they got home though, he promised himself, he would be making up for time lost he while he was on the road the upcoming week. 

His sweat-stained clothes in a pile next to his duffle bag, Jason looked back one more time to find the towel he knew he would eventually need before he stepped into the shower. He found the towel, and something else as well. Hanging on the door were three small triangles of fabric, strings dangling from their corners. Underwear? Jason took a closer look. A bikini, and not one he had ever seen Ali in. Gwen Nelson owned a bikini? Not possible! Ever since he had started dating Alison Nelson, her mother had worn a very modest one-piece suit when swimming and a robe over that when not, things that seemed more at home on his grandmother than his stealthily hot mother-in-law. A quick examination of the damp top hanging on the middle hook confirmed it was indeed a bikini. On the hook to the right hung the bottom. He looked about nervously before removing it from the hanger. This couldn't be hers, this had to be Alison's. His imagination said otherwise, and the idea that this piece of fabric may have been the only thing between his mother-in-law's pussy and the admiring world, the same pussy that had probably swallowed that huge dildo in her closet...his cock began to swell at the thought. He found the crotch of the garment and brought it to his nose, hoping for the bouquet of her flower, disappointed to find only chlorine. With a smile, he slid the bottoms across his stiff cock twice, then rehung them on the hook along with the top. He splattered the shower wall with his ejaculation a short time later, his post-orgasmic clearness of mind convincing him the bikini had to be his wife's. 

The steaks were already on the grill when he emerged from the bathroom. He and Alison spent a couple of hours sitting with her parents in the shade of the deck off the kitchen before finally deciding to get home and prepare for the business trip he would be beginning the next day. 

Alison had already started her car when Jason rushed back to her open window. "Hey, are you forgetting your bathing suit?" 

"No, I always leave it here."

"Oh. I saw a black bikini hanging in your parents bathroom and thought it might be a new one you bought that you wanted to take with you."

"I hung my suit in the bathroom across from my bedroom after I changed. The red one I keep here. The one in my parents' bathroom is probably my Mom's." 

"Oh, Uhh, never mind, then. See you when we get home." Jason walked back to his SUV, his mind whirling. It was his mother's! Again he began to stiffen at the thought of his mother-in-law both in the bikini and out of it, the urge not subsiding until he had thoroughly fucked her daughter. 

Tim and Gwen finished the cleanup and went about their normal evening routine, horses bedded down for the night before a couple of hours of TV. She was the first to head for the bedroom, Tim waiting for one more look at the weather before joining her. 

She quickly glanced out from where she stood at the bathroom mirror, past the partially open door, into the bedroom where she could hear her husband moving about. Something was out of place, not right. It took her a moment to realize it was her bathing suit. Both top and bottom occupied a single hook; she always hung them separately after a swim to allow them to dry more completely. How had they gotten on the same hook? Perhaps the bottoms had fallen, and Tim had picked them up. Or maybe Jason had...she had only remembered where her bikini hung after she had offered him their shower that afternoon. It was too late then to move it, and Gwen hoped he wouldn't notice it. Perhaps he had. Gwen was both embarrassed and aroused at the idea he might have held the garment which had so recently been covering her private parts. A long streak of dried something on the fabric reflected dully as she turned it over. Gwen clucked disapprovingly at her carelessness. How could she have spilled something on them? The bottoms were rinsed to remove whatever was there and rehung before she joined her husband in the bedroom. What she had started by cleaning him the night before she intended to finish.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 19



(This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.)

*****

A week of vacation for Walt meant an especially busy week for the other employees of Nelson Plumbing. Tim, Cliff, and the apprentices did their best to handle the increased workload, both trucks returning each day with the setting sun or beyond.

Gwen pitched in where she could, doing her best to keep things going both in the business and in the home, delivering needed supplies to jobsites for the overworked crews while making sure her husband had something warm to eat and nothing more to do when he pulled into the yard each evening. 

The early mornings and late nights all but ruled out any physical intimacy as Tim would stumble in, eat, shower, and fall asleep, only to begin the cycle again early the next morning. Gwen resisted the urge to bring her toys out from the closet, feeling that tending to her own pleasure when her husband was working so hard was a kind of betrayal. 

The time alone gave her plenty of time to think, in particular about Alison's questioning of her parents' love life. Her daughter's belief "that if you don't give guys...that, they'll find it somewhere," awoke old assumptions and suspicions. Gwen's mother had instilled her own version of that message as she was growing up, that men who would not demand the sins of the flesh were the ones worth marrying. In truth, Irene Curran had hinted more than once that all men were susceptible to the availability of easy women, and that all that could be expected of a husband was to be discrete in his affairs. In fact, provided it didn't become an embarrassment in social circles or produce unwanted challengers to the family fortunes, the infidelity might even be a blessing in disguise to a married woman as she would no longer have to perform those ghastly duties for anything other than producing legitimate heirs. Still, her mother took delight when the husbands of her circle of friends were caught in compromising positions. There was a special level of righteous superiority reserved for the few wives who fell into the same trap. 

Gwen would not be surprised if her own father was that type of husband, and that her mother tolerated, if not approved, of the arrangement. He was a good father, perhaps a bit distant and formal, but he was a man, and she had never seen her parents share anything more than a polite kiss. However, he never seemed to be without an attractive, young, sometimes single, sometimes not, secretary, even having her travel to conferences with him on occasion "so they could get some work done", just as most of the other partners in the firm did...Adam was the only partner who had an assistant older than the man she worked for. 

Tim's not like that, the Lady would always argue defiantly. Tim has never given you any reason to believe he might be doing that on the side, even if your sex life has not been...perverted. There's no need to stoop to being a slut to keep a man who has been true to you. But if he's not getting what he wants, the Slut would counter, how long before he does wander? 

What more could he possibly want? She had loosened up quite a bit these past couple of months, was more free with what she allowed him to see, their lovemaking had been more frequent ...she was even using her mouth on him, for heaven's sake! The knowledge that she had done these things for her own deviant needs, and not necessarily his, haunted her. Even her boudoir shoot, done as a gift for her husband, had devolved into her flaunting her naked body for a strange man. 

You could ask what he wants, the Slut suggested. The Lady harrumphed at the suggested invasion of privacy and the idea she might find out more than she wanted to know, but evenings spent waiting for Tim to come home wore her down, her refusal to combat the stress with sexual relief only making matters seem more urgent. The dreams returned several nights, awaking her each time just before Liz's hand caressed her face. It became not an issue of whether to ask, but how.

The work week ended mercifully with Tim making it home at a decent hour on Friday, early enough for a regular meal and a swim before bedtime. Gwen looked forward to spending the weekend with her husband, content to let him sleep tonight and satisfy her urges in the morning. Cliff had the emergency call duty for the entire weekend, and there was nothing to interrupt the couple's alone time. She hoped she would be able to find the right moment to ask him what he really wanted from their love live and quell her fears.

"Oh, hey, meant to tell you," Tim sleepily called over his shoulder as they lay in bed that night. "Me and Ed are taking his boat and going fishing tomorrow. I know I'm behind on stuff around here, but I really need to get out on the water for a bit after the week we had. You don't mind, do you?"

Gwen did her best to hide her disappointment. "No, no, of course. You should get out for a while—it'll do you good. There's nothing around here that can't wait." A vision of he and Ed, out on the boat with a pair of buxom young women aboard, her husband using a different kind of pole to fish with, began to form.

"Thanks honey, I appreciate it. I really just need a little time on the lake. I'll get stuff done when I come back, I promise." Tim rolled back enough to find her lips. "Love you. Sleep tight." 

"You too." Gwen lay there, staring at the ceiling long after the steady breathing coming from the pillow next to her told her he was asleep. They hadn't made love since last weekend. Was fishing more important than that? Or did he plan on rising early enough to do both? Was sex just not important to him anymore? Or was it just sex with her?" She knew she was being irrational, such a rare occurrence for her, and the lack of experience with it made it difficult to stop. The thoughts chased each other around her head until she fell into a fitful sleep. 

The dream returned that night. It was the same familiar setting, only she was surprised to find Tim standing there as her keeper, dressed in the standard-issue Nelson Plumbing workshirt and pants, the riding crop in his hands seeming so absurd—he didn't ride!—while Liz climbed the low set of stairs. She reached to caress her face, finally making contact.

"Here you go," Tim said as if loaning out a tool, "maybe you can teach her a few new tricks. Just don't break anything, alright?" 

"No permanent damage," Liz agreed with a confident smile, examining the chained woman who was doing her best to avoid eye contact. The hand left Gwen's face and reached between her spread legs...

She awoke with a start. "What the hell?" she thought groggily, finding the situation serious enough to swear to herself. She was certainly not her husband's property to give away, and most certainly not to another woman! Anger and arousal swirled. 

The effects of the dream only worsened a few moments later when Tim awoke at first light and hurriedly dressed. Wearing nothing more than a t-shirt, Gwen offered to make him coffee for the road, but he declined the beverage while missing the more obvious invitation. Tim risked a quick squeeze of her bare bottom as he kissed her goodbye, and she stood on the deck, oblivious to the cool dawn air on her bare lower half, while he loaded his truck with poles and a tackle box. With a wave, he was down the driveway and gone. 

Gwen returned to the kitchen and started some coffee while she tried to make sense of the situation. She had practically thrown herself at him; he had refused. Maybe he didn't find sex as important as she had assumed? Or was she boring and he was saving his energy for better things somewhere else that morning? She cursed Alison for putting the idea in her head, then quickly cursed herself. No, it's not her fault. It's always been there. You just chose to ignore it. 

She sat in the kitchen for some time drinking coffee, thinking, not caring who might walk in on her in her state of undress. Practical ideas—barn chores, laundry, a ride, fought with more irrational thoughts. She should go down to the landing and see if Tim's truck was there. That would just prove he's on Ed's boat, she knew. No telling who else was out there with them. And how would she explain it to him if she was sitting there, waiting for him, when they came back? Hi honey, just wanted to make sure you didn't find someone younger and prettier and willing to satisfy your every need. What would you like for dinner? Her irrationality seemed to mock her inability to control it. 

A masturbatory session was considered; if he didn't want to take care of her, then she would take care of herself; but the notion that his lack of action somehow required revenge did not sit well with her. In the end, she passed the time by tending to the barn while the horses nickered nervously at the obvious smell of stress coming from the human in their midst. A ride up the ridge followed, and laundry followed that, her time spent thinking only strengthening her resolve to be everything Tim might desire in the bedroom and win him back from the naked women on the boat. What exactly 'everything' might be, and whether it would be enough, worried her.

Gwen did her best to put on her calm and composed face when she heard Tim's truck coming up the driveway well after lunch. His scowl and stiff-legged walk as he climbed the deck stairs told her he had not had the relaxing morning he had hoped for. A strong smell of gasoline swept over her instead the hoped-for smells of a day spent around bait and fish.

"So, we get halfway across the lake when the outboard quits. We spent two hours trying to fix it—Goddamn Ed doesn't keep a real toolbox on board—and when we finally get it going, it's painfully slow. We had canoes passing us, for Christ's sake. And I couldn't even troll while we were on the way back, because I had to keep the fuel line from falling off while Goddamn Ed drove. Then we get back and I had to help take the Goddamn outboard off of Goddamn Ed's boat and put it in the back of his truck so he can get it looked at. Sure as hell I'm gonna be busy when he needs to put it back on." Tim paused, out of breath and out of story. "Hi. How was your morning?"

Gwen smiled, amused at the outburst she knew to be her husband at his angriest, and horrified that she could ever have suspected him of cheating. 

"I'd kiss you, but I'm pretty flammable at the moment," he called out on his way to the bedroom before she could answer. "I should have just stripped on the deck in case my shirt catches fire." 

"Are you hungry?" She called out as she followed him down the hall, collecting his shirt while he stood and attempted to remove his boots. 

"Very. But I want to get the smell of unmaintained outboard off of me before I eat." Tim managed to extricate himself from jeans, underwear and socks without touching furniture or bedding before making his way to the bathroom, Gwen watching his muscular rear with appreciation, She collected his clothes, doing her best to keep them at arm's length on her way to the washing machine, then made her way to the kitchen to prepare him something nice. With a smile, she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a beer, carrying it back to him.

She could see his foggy outline behind the shower glass, scrubbing as the various nozzles sprayed him down from all angles. "I brought you a beer. I thought you might like one."

The form behind the glass stopped. "You have no idea how much I love you. Thanks—just leave it on the counter and I'll grab it when I get out."

Gwen smiled and opened the door. "That's alright. I can bring it to you." Stray droplets of splashing water began to collect on her shirt and jeans. 

Tim turned to her, eyes wide with surprise, and tentatively reached out for the can. "Uhh, thanks."

"Want me to wash your back for you?" 

"Uhh, yeah, sure, that would be great, but your clothes are getting all wet."

"That's true. Hold on a second." She stepped back and closed the door while he was left standing there, shocked look on his face and open beer in his hand. Gwen opened the door again a moment later, clothes no longer an issue. "Hand me that sponge and the soap." Tim sorted out the logistics, finally deciding to hand the items over one at a time while he held the can out of the shower's spray. The couple looked at each other for a moment, Tim confused, Gwen expectant. 

"You have to turn around if I'm going to wash your back."

"Oh, yeah, of course." 

Tim turned and faced the shower controls, very unsure what to do, finally deciding on sipping his beer while standing in place. This had never, never been something Gwen had ever offered before; this kind of episode with his girlfriends before her had always quickly devolved into frantic humping against the shower walls before much of anything had been washed. 

It was with practiced hands that Gwen began to work soap and sponge into her husband's shoulders. This was part of the service Miss Ritter had expected from her after a day's ride and before an evening's tutelage, and the tall Nordic woman had been meticulous in teaching her how to perform it. It was a slow, languid process, decadent and erotic, gradually working down his back in soapy, sweeping circles. Tim was in heaven, the warm water and the scratch of the sponge making every nerve tingle. His buttocks received the same treatment, and Gwen was faced with her first choice. Miss Ritter had always insisted on a complete cleansing of the crevice between the two cheeks, culminating with a soapy finger vigorously rubbing the anus clean before being inserted up to the second knuckle. The finger was inserted and withdrawn five times—never four, never six—before moving on to the thighs and calves. Gwen had been shocked the first time it had been done to her—that part of her body was not meant to have things put in it!—but she found the sensation of her rosebud being touched not unpleasant, and the insertion of Miss Ritter's finger was at least not terrible. Reciprocating for Miss Ritter had taken all of her will the first time she had washed the lean blonde down there. It also prepared her for later events... 

But this was her husband. Would he be upset if she touched him there? She contented herself with 2 quick swipes of her finger down his crevice, relieved that it had brought no adverse reaction, before kneeling on the wet tiles to move down his body. Tim instructively moved his legs apart ever so slightly as she began to scrub from the outside in around his upper thigh. Gwen found herself marveling at the novel view of her husband's testicles dangling heavily on the other end of the open space between his legs, using her hand to soap the skin behind them, fingers making gentle contact with wrinkled skin beyond. Reluctantly, she continued down, knees, calves and ankles all given the same attention his back had been afforded. 

Gwen stood. "Would you like your front done, too?"

"That would be great!" There was no confusion this time, and Tim turned to face his wife. Gwen was pleased to see his penis was showing its appreciation as well. 

She smiled and lathered the sponge, working it into and around his neck while Tim closed his eyes in obvious pleasure. Slowly she worked her way down, not spending as much time on her husband's chest as she had on Miss Ritter's as he had less that needed washing than her boss had. His stomach was thoroughly scrubbed, and she again kneeled, his semi-erect manhood now at face level. Gwen thought to ignore it for now, to work elsewhere and save it for last so it would not appear as though she were teasing, but Miss Ritter had demanded consistency and efficiency in her shower routine just as with everything else, so his manhood had to be next. She put down the sponge and thoroughly lathered up before gently taking his length in hand and soaping. Gwen watched with fascination at how fast it grew to full length, straining towards her, seeming to quickly fill one hand while his sac was gently soaped with her other. 

Now would be the time to move to the bedroom and offer him relief, she thought, to do otherwise would be most unfair. But Miss Ritter had not stopped there, even after her employee's clitoris had been cleansed to the brink of orgasm, and neither could Gwen. Reluctantly, she continued on down his muscled thighs and calves, scrubbing the tops of his feet before standing. 

"I'm going to go get your lunch ready," Gwen said as she took the empty beer can from the confused naked man in front of her. "Relax and take your time." She had barely closed the door behind her and reached for a towel when the water was shut off behind her. Gwen had to step forward to let her husband out. 

"I was kinda thinkin' we could do something else before lunch?" Tim said as he reached for his own towel. Based on the erection he was waving about, Gwen had a pretty good idea what that was.

"I'm sorry if I teased you in there. It's just that I always-should I meet you in the bedroom?"

A puzzled look crossed her husband's face, but passed. "Well, we don't NEED to go that far, but, yeah, that's fine." 

Gwen was out of the bathroom first, flipping back the covers and lying back on the bed with ankles crossed and hands folded. Tim was not far behind, his still damp skin evidence he had things on his mind other than drying off. He quickly made his way to the bed and lay down beside her. She waited for him to roll to his side and perhaps kiss or even mount her, but he lay there a moment, as if thinking. 

"Gwen I know this is kinda selfish, but I was uhh, wondering, well, you were doing such a good job in the shower, would you, uhh, mind finishing up that way?" 

He sounds as nervous as he did when he proposed, Gwen thought, and stifled a giggle. "Of course," she said, rolling to her side. "If there's anything you want, just ask. Anything." The nude woman looked at her husband with as much meaning in her eyes as she possibly convey before propping herself on one elbow and looking down to reach for his only slightly-diminished erection. Gwen gently stroked his member back to full bloom, spreading the slippery liquid beginning to bubble up from the tip down the head and shaft, occasionally petting and fondling his testicles. Gradually she tightened her grip on his length as his hips began to twitch while a hand lightly scratched her back in time to her strokes. Her mind wandered a bit as she played, imagining the cock sliding through her fingers—she smiled in surprise at her choice of that word—doing the same inside her, pushing deep then withdrawing. She resisted the urge to put her lips around the soft pink head and coax it into shooting onto her tongue, deciding that if her hand was what her husband had asked for, her hand is what would give him his pleasure. 

His thrusting became more urgent and Gwen dispensed with gentleness, gripping hard and forcing her fist down his shaft , turning the velvety head an angry red, skin sliding against the hardness beneath in time to her efforts. She hoped she was doing it right; this was one of those things she had never gotten much practice at. 

A sharp intake of breath and the first jet of pearly white liquid shooting from his tip told her she had least been satisfactory. She watched it arc across the rigid muscles of his stomach to land just below where her head hovered over his chest. The following shots chased the first up his body, never quite reaching the landing spot of the one before it, before finally he was reduced to weak pulses that slid from his opening to drop wetly below. Gwen looked back at her husband when she thought he was finished, unwilling to let go until she was sure. 

Tim smiled back contentedly back at her. "Thank you—I needed that! Let me go get cleaned up and I'll return the favor." 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 19



Gwen put a hand on his chest and stopped him. "I can do it." She returned with the wet washcloth, using it to clean his chest and stomach before taking his softening erection in her mouth to finish the job, only releasing him when he began to stir.

"Your turn—" he announced, reaching for her. She quickly stood. 

"No, I want you to have lunch first. You must be starving."

"I am. But I don't think a snack will ruin my appetite," he said with a wolfish grin. 

"No, eat lunch first. You can take care of me later." Gwen rose and returned the cloth to the bathroom, walking through the bedroom a moment later dressed in one of her t-shirts and a pair of Tim's loose gym shorts. The idea of wearing nothing had tempted her, but one could never tell when someone might arrive unannounced. The little cover she wore would at least give her a chance to retreat and dress more appropriately for company. 

Tim dressed and joined her in the kitchen, a little confused and worried about her refusal of his offer. Had he offended her or made her uncomfortable with his request? Had she just assumed a naked backwash was just that and nothing more? Nothing in her demeanor as she put food on the table gave any hint. 

A bottle of wine was produced and Tim's fears began to grow. Wine before dinner was not in Gwen's repertoire; Tim could have all the beer he wanted (although he never did), she would have one glass after her meal, preferably up by the pool. 

Her behavior as they are gave him more reason for concern. She didn't seem angry, just ill-at-ease with their conversation. He was finishing the last of his sandwich when she spoke. 

"Tim, what I said in there, if there's anything you want, just tell me."

The confused man took his time chewing the last bite, trying to make sense of the statement. A joke about a new bass boat came to mind, but he decided now was not the time for that. "Gwen, at the very real risk of sounding dense, what are you talking about?"

She blushed and took a gulp of wine. "You know...anything you want...stuff in there...in the bedroom." The last words came out in a low voice so others wouldn't hear. 

"Oh. Oh. Well, I'm pretty happy in there, especially lately...what more would I want?"

Gwen couldn't tell if he was teasing. "Well, you're a guy, and I get that we've been kind of, you know, straightforward in the bedroom, and guys are supposed to like variety, and, well, I just want you to be happy." 

Tim reached across the table and took her hands in his. "Hey. Variety's nice, but you're way more important than any of that. I've got you, that's enough. If you're content with our love life, then so am I." 

She smiled back at him. "That's sweet, but I really want you to be happy, and maybe...maybe I'm ready for some variety, too."

He smiled. "So was washing my back part of the variety?" Gwen smiled again and looked down at the table. "Do you have anything else you've got in mind?"

"I want to know what you find interesting. Like, what do you think about when you masturbate?" Gwen's eyes widened as she heard the words rush out of her mouth before she could filter them.

Tim leaned back, eyes wide as well, and took a sip of beer. Dangerous territory, dangerous, dangerous territory. The whole truth was out of the question. There were too many things he feared she would find distasteful and downright perverted in his most vivid and well thought-out fantasies. But as he looked at her, he knew she was not backing down from her question. Tim considered his response carefully. "The usual gross guy things, I guess. All of them about you." He smiled to mark his attempt at humor.

"Yes, but what about? I promise not to get mad. I really want to know." 

Tim hesitated, choosing his line of thought carefully. "Well, things like you in certain places, or certain positions, things you don't normally do, I guess." 

"Like what?"

"Let's just say I like spontaneity. Things I wouldn't expect, like me walking in to the bedroom and finding you naked on the bed on your hands and knees with your bum towards me, or on your back with your legs spread. Or, or, like what you did for me in the shower today. That might be what I think about the next time I, uhh, take care of business, maybe where you finish me while we're still in the shower, or something like that. Of course," he added hurriedly, "I haven't had much need to do that lately, if you know what I mean." 

The blush on his face told Gwen her husband was more embarrassed than she had ever seen him before. The Lady screamed for her to end the line of questioning now, but the Slut's assertion that it was just getting good spurred her on. She did her best to not show him any hint of panic or displeasure. "Well, those sound interesting. Anything else?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, desperately wishing Cliff would call with an emergency he needed help on. "Like I said, I just kinda like it when you surprise me, like when I saw how short you had cut your hair...down there..." 

"I noticed you seem to like that, and I'm glad. Was it because I cut it, or because of who cut it for me?"

He groaned inwardly. "Well, yeah, both, I guess."

"You really don't think it's perverted about someone else, especially a woman, touching my...down there? Do you ever think about things like that when you're, uh, taking care of business?"

That had been the question he had been hoping to avoid. Gwen had clues to the truth; this day went from swamp-low to mountain top and back to the swamp. The trapped man twisted miserable in his seat. "I don't think it's perverted, just, uh, a big turn on. I've always wondered what exactly happened between you and your old boss, and the male imagination can be a pretty powerful thing, so...and then when you told me how close Natalie was to your—to your privates, well, that got me going, too. Sorry, just I couldn't help myself." 

She could sense her husband's fear of her reaction and remembered her own fevered dreams. "I always thought I was the perverted one for doing those things. Maybe we can be perverted together." Gwen smiled to show her own attempt at humor. "I just want to make sure you're happy with me, and I want to help with that more than I could've in the past, although I'm still kind of in the dark about what guys like." 

Tim took her hands again. "You've always made me happy. You don't have to change a thing for me. But if you want to 'add more variety', then let's give it a try. Now can we not talk about what I'm thinking about? At least until I've had a few more beers." 

"I'm sure I can't even imagine what you think about when you're drunk," she said with another smile. "Maybe we should find out. But really, if you have anything you'd like to try or do, just say it. Anything, right? I promise I'll at least think about it. In the meantime, may I take you up on the offer you made before lunch?" 

It took Tim a moment to separate pre-and-post mealtime events. "Uhh, yeah, of course," he finally made sense of his wife's request. "In the bedroom?"

"That would be—no, wait." Gwen stood and moved to a kitchen window to look into the yard before locking the door next to it. "Maybe in there?" she asked nodding her head towards the living room. 

The living room, in broad daylight? Was this some sort of test? "Your wish is my command," he said with an easy smile as he rose from the table while his wife moved to the other room, looking about uncertainly at various pieces of furniture. He was about to take her in his arms when she appeared to make a decision and began peeling off shirt and shorts. Gwen sat in the easy chair as demurely as a naked woman could, legs together, hands folded in her lap. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back into the cushions and brought her legs up over the arms of the chair. "Could you kiss me...down there?" 

Tim smiled in response and moved into position between her outstretched knees, crouching to kneel. "No, take your clothes off first," she asked, adding a "please" as good manners dictated. 

He smiled again and stripped off his shorts, Gwen pleased to see the situation was prompting another erection. Her pose was reminiscent of her trips to the gynecologist, some of the mortification she felt in those situations rising up until strong hands reached under and around her bottom to pull her sex forward onto waiting lips. This is nothing like the doctor's, she decided as warm skin touched her instead of cold steel. 

The touch was fleeting however, as if Tim had been measuring the proper distance to bring her to him, and then his lips and tongue tickled the inside of her thighs, moving back and forth, occasionally grazing the lightly stubbled skin about her slit, the tongue always working its way closer to where leg met hip. Soon even that was passed, and her husband's tongue found its way into her, tickling her lips and bud. 

Gwen was dimly aware that her hands were clutching his head, pulling him into her, grinding against him, as her pleasure grew. The Lady clucked that she was surely smothering him; the Slut laughed and said that he was a big boy, and if he found his way in, he could find his way out. 

Her climax hit with incredible force as Tim's tongue snaked its way into her opening, her muscles contracting in attempt to drive him even deeper. She so wanted to cry out, to give voice to the waves of intense pleasure jolting through her, but her training was strong, and all that escaped was a small grunt as she pulled on her husband with all her might. Tim's neck strained to keep his nose from smashing into and breaking against the clit that was grinding into it. 

The pressure against the back of his head was released in small amounts as her orgasm waned until they gently rested in his close-cropped hair as she breathed heavily. Tim took this as the safe sign to sit up and look at his wife's face, closed eyes highlighting a very satisfied look. 

"That was wonderful."

"Mm-hmmm. I'm glad I could help."

Gwen opened her eyes at the sound of Tim standing, a very erect penis staring at her. "Oh, my. Are you ready to go again?"

"Uh-huh. Sit up."

The gruffness in his voice made it easy to imagine this was a command and not a request. She sat, bottom on the very end of the chair where he had pulled her down to just a short time ago, and regarded the staff that was now just a foot away. Tim stepped forward to close the distance and returned the favor by putting his own hands on the back of her head and pulling her forward while his hips thrust out. She opened her mouth just in time as the cudgel forced its way between her lips. Her tongue alternated between getting out of the way of the invader and tickling it as it retreated while he slowly sawed in and out of her. His hands gripped her tightly, not so much to be uncomfortable, but in a way that left no possibility of going anywhere other than where he directed. Gwen not at all displeased with the realization that her husband was using her mouth like he would use her sex, and began to wonder if that might include him finishing there, as well.

She had her answer a few moments later. Tim removed his length from between her lips, hands preventing her from dipping forward to recapture it. 

"Turn around and get on your knees. Bend over the chair." Gwen thrilled at the order and did her best to get in the desired position as quickly as possible, the faint aroma of her sex on the cushion tickling her nostrils as she put her elbows down and looked back over her shoulder. 

Tim knelt behind her, spreading her legs and settling between them before firmly planting those strong hands on her hips and pulling up, angling her bottom up at him. Satisfied, he shuffled forward until the tip of his staff made contact with her lips. Tim thrust forward while pulling back on his wife and buried himself in her. 

Gwen allowed her body to sink between her arms and lay on the seat of the chair while her husband began a slow, easy pace. His hands would occasionally roam across her back and work their way between her and the chair to palm her breasts, but would always return to her hips when he felt the need for more vigorous thrusting. 

I can only imagine what this would look like if someone came in now, Gwen thought as Tim took her from behind. How would we explain? What would we do? Strangely, the idea of getting caught was not so awful...

The hands strayed less and less, and Gwen knew he was close. She could hear his thighs slapping against her, fingers tightening against her bone and muscle, breathing quickening. With Gwen pinned beneath him, Tim gave one last thrust to push himself as deeply as possible. She could imagine pulse after pulse of his seed filling her.

Tim rocked back as soon as his orgasm subsided, his cock sliding wetly out of the pussy that even now was angled up in offering to him. "Was that alright?" he asked nervously, worried that his rough handling of the naked woman still crouching before him might have been taking things too far.

"That was wonderful," she replied as she turned to get up, kissing him as she did so. "Thank you for taking care of me. I'm going to get cleaned up, and you should think about getting dressed in case someone decides to come over." Tim took her advice, but found that her version of decency as she worked about the house that afternoon was nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of bikini panties he had never seen before. Her attire for their evening swim was nothing at all.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 20



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

"Mrs. Nelson?"

The voice on the other end of the line sent a rush of adrenaline coursing through Gwen that Monday morning as she sat behind the office's desk. She recognized the voice...

"Yes, this is she."

"Hi Gwen, its Sandra McCall. Is now a good time to talk?"

The startled woman knew the trucks had left a couple of hours earlier and that she was the only person in the shop, but she looked about anyways before answering in a low voice that it was.

"Great! I know these are a gift, and I wanted to make sure the lucky man receiving them wasn't nearby. How are you?" 

"I'm fine, how are you?" Gwen replied, willing down her impatience and not prompting the woman to what she hoped was the point of the call. 

"I'm well," the woman replied easily. "Barry wanted me to let you know that your proofs are ready, and would like to know when might be a good time for you and he to sit down and decide what the finished product should look like." 

"Oh, I wouldn't know anything about that," Gwen answered nervously. "Can't he just pick the ones he thinks are best? Or are there not enough good ones to fill an album?"

Sandra laughed. "On the contrary. Barry thinks that if he were to include all the good ones, the album would be too heavy to pick up. Besides, he normally meets with the model so she can decide exactly how naughty she wants the finished product to be. He really likes the way these came out, but wants to see if you agree. So, when would be convenient for you to come to the studio?" 

Gwen tried to frame an answer. "Well, I, uhh, I'm not sure I can come this week..." She knew she didn't want to go alone. Natalie was the obvious answer, she was the one who had suggested this whole thing, but her sister was just back from vacation, and most almost certainly getting things back in order in her own life.

"I'm sure Barry wouldn't mind coming to see you some time this week, if you'd rather," Sandra suggested brightly. 

"No, no," Gwen responded quickly, the idea of bringing him to her home striking her as too risky. She briefly considered perhaps meeting him somewhere else, but a mental image of her scandalous pictures spread across a restaurant table while she reviewed them made that out of the question. "I don't want to take Barry's time like that. Let me talk with Natalie and see if she might be able to come with me."

"That sounds like a plan! Just give us a call when you decide. Weekdays are ideal, but we might have some time on the weekend, particularly for you. Barry was particularly pleased with these, and he really wants to hear what you think. You've got our office number, right?"

"I do. Let me check with Natalie and I promise to get back to you shortly." 

"Sounds great! We'll talk to you soon." 

Gwen's finger hit the disconnect button and began dialing her sister's cell phone in one fluid motion. 

Natalie answered on the third ring. "Hey there! I was going to call you this afternoon!" 

"Why? Is there something wrong?" 

Her sister laughed. "I wanted to tell you we were back and see how things were going." 

The women reviewed their weeks, Gwen listening patiently and with genuine interest as Natalie recounted their stay at their beach home in Hilton Head. Her own report recounted the busy week at Nelson Plumbing and avoided being too quick to ask about Natalie's availability for a trip to the photographers, not wanting to seem too anxious to ask her to go look at naked pictures of her husband's sister. 

"So, have you heard anything from Barry yet?" 

Gwen was relieved that Natalie had brought the subject up. "Well, yes. Sandra called me this morning and said that he wants to show me the proofs so I can pick which ones I like. I was wondering, are you, uhh, free some time to go with me? I don't want to go alone." 

"I would have been mad if you hadn't invited me." Natalie's voice made the prospect of her anger doubtful. "How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? But don't you have to work?"

"Yeah, but if we leave early, I can get back in time. His studio is about a half-hour closer than Liz's place. We leave at 7:30, get there at 10, spend a couple of hours there, I'm back a half-hour before my shift. I'll pick you up at 7:30?"

The Lady reminded her of her obligation to at least be there until after the trucks had departed, but the urge to see what the photographer had taken overcame her sense of duty. "What do I tell Tim?" 

"Tell him we're going to breakfast, then shopping." 

Gwen's desire to go made the lie seem plausible. "Let me drive. We're going because of me, anyways." 

"We'll compromise. I'll pick you up and drive there and you drive back so I can take a nap before my shift. Fair?"

There was no further debate, and the two wrapped up their conversation shortly after. 

Natalie was there at 7:30 sharp the next day. "'Mornin', Tim," she called out as she stopped the vehicle next to where the trucks were being loaded. 

""Morning, Nat. Gwen's got you out shopping for bridles? I'm not sure if you're blessed or cursed—she usually drags one of the girls along when she goes out shopping for those manure factories up in the barn." 

"Oh, I'm a big fan of leather," she said with a smile and wink before slowly pulling the vehicle up closer to the house. Tim smiled and shook his head before returning to his loading. 

Two of his apprentices watched the blonde emerge from the SUV and climb the stairs to the Nelson's deck. "I bet she'd look pretty good in leather," Jordan murmured as the pair made their way to the back of the shop to gather more PVC. "She's pretty hot for an older chick. A great pair of titties."

"Mrs. Nelson is pretty hot for an older woman, too," Andrew volunteered after checking to make sure there was no one else in hearing range. 

"Mrs. Nelson? How can you tell? Shit, with the clothes she wears, I'll bet even Tim doesn't even have a good idea what she looks like naked." 

"Yeah, but still..." The young apprentice's imagination had conjured up a pretty good idea. He had not forgotten the day she had applied ointment to his burn and become a fixture in his library of jack-off scenarios.

"Hey shithead, grab the other end of this and get your mind out of Mrs. Nelson's pants. She's probably got steel underwear, anyways." 

Andrew snapped back to reality and again glanced around for anyone who might have overheard. With an embarrassed smile, he took an end of the bundle of pipes.

Natalie and Gwen waved to the crews as they made their way down the driveway and on to the road beyond. 

"Nervous?" 

Gwen smiled. "Well, yes. What if they're terrible?"

"I'm pretty sure they're not. Excited?" 

A little." 

By a quarter to ten, the SUV was parked in the driveway of a home in a residential neighborhood not far from the Inn. Natalie led the way across a gravel walkway and around the corner of the garage into a private backyard to where a larger building sat, a two-story barn-like structure. A woodcut sign announcing this as the location of Memories by McCall was attached to the white clapboard wall.

The women stepped into a lobby full of photos of sporting events, nature, weddings, portraits...everything but naked women, Gwen wryly noted. A door chime sounded as they entered, and Sandra hurried into the waiting area from a hallway.

"Gwen! Natalie! How nice to see you!" Hugs were exchanged, and the Sandra led them through a door into a large open area two stories high, the lighting and stagework making it obvious this was a photo set. Curiously, a faux bedroom stood in the middle, a brass headboard at the end of a crisp white comforter and pillows. Gwen had no time to wonder about its purpose, however, as they moved along to the far end of the building. It was divided off into smaller rooms, stairs leading to a second floor along which a balcony ran along the length of the open space. The first door on the right proved to be the office of Barry McCall. The room itself was nondescript, a beat-up desk and conference table filling most the space, no artwork visible save for 3 8x11s, one for each wall. 

Gwen's eyes widened a bit. Here were the naked women. Each photo was an artistic nude, the model posed in such a way as to make any claim of pornography debatable. Gwen's eyes widened more as she recognized the model. It was Sandra—maybe a few years younger, but definitely Sandra. 

"Welcome to my inner sanctum!" Barry boomed as he rose from the desk to greet them. "Please—sit down," he said, pointing to chairs at the conference table, "and we'll get started." The big man turned an oversized flat-screen LCD on the desk towards where the women were taking their seats, grabbed a wireless keyboard and mouse, and joined them.

"Gwen, I have to tell you, you make a hell of a model. Something in you jumps out at the camera—your eyes, your personality, like there's both an innocence and worldliness about you. So much so, I'd love to have you pose for me again." Gwen blushed, certain the photographer was just flattering her. Barry quickly navigated to a folder on screen and clicked. "Now, I really didn't do much touch up at all, and I can't believe how few of the shots I outright threw away. I think they're all great, and I have my favorites, but I want to see what you think before I say too much. Just write down the numbers of the ones you really like for the album. Don't worry, you'll also get a flash drive that has all of the ones you want to keep."

The first photo popped up on screen, of a fully clothed Gwen standing in front of the bedroom door, a nervous smile on her face, hands demurely clasped in front. "Before shot, not for the album," Barry murmured, and hurried through a couple more of the same pose before stopping at a shot of Gwen standing by the Inn room's bay window, the bright morning light outside silhouetting the woman, but not so much as to obscure her features and attire. Gwen breathed in sharply at the simple beauty of the scene and could not believe she was the woman in it. 

"You alright?" Barry asked, concern in his voice. "Too much?"

"It's beautiful," she said softly, not taking her eyes off the screen, "You must have done quite a bit of touchup on that. It can't be me." 

He smiled and patted her forearm. "It is you, and I toned down the light just a touch to contrast your lines some. And we're just getting started." 

Gwen relived the day as the photos slowly moved forward, drawing another sharp breath at the first shot of her sitting on the window's ledge, legs slightly spread, lips peeking out from between the thin black band of panty that ran between them.

"Too much? I can crop that so the finished product only show from just above your, uhh, undies."

Gwen began to answer affirmatively, that yes, that would be best, but stopped. "No, that's fine. It's not like my husband hasn't seen me...down there...before." He's never seen you with your parts so lewdly displayed, the Lady harrumphed. 

The photos continued to roll by, some with brief discussions, others with a moment to view and decide whether they were to be written down. Gwen was embarrassed to find her paper was filling quickly, not even noticing that Natalie was writing as well. The amount of flesh she was displaying both shocked and thrilled the model, and while her most intimate parts were quite often shrouded by a soft focus applied by Barry post-shoot, it was obvious what the lack of clarity was hiding. Gwen did not ask him to crop or remove any of it. The set ended the with her on her back with the bed's white comforter threatening to engulf her, looking upside down at the camera while her breasts remained just out of sight under her open corset and the small tuft of hair that remained above her sex visible, but out of focus. 

Sandra chose this time to bring in coffee while the trio discussed the best of the best to be included in Tim's gift. Gwen astounded herself by speaking of her poses and nudity in the frankest of terms, as if she was speaking of someone else. Barry announced he felt he had enough to work with, and asked to begin the second part of the shoot. 

Gwen found herself smiling at the ridiculous shirt and toolbelt she wore, the Slut suggesting that the shirt might be comfortable at home, too. She quickly sensed that where the first set of photos had been sensual and sultry, a part of her she never knew existed, Barry had done a masterful job in capturing a playful side, a side she was not sure even really existed. Breasts dangled in the shadows of her shirt as she bent over the sink "fixing the faucet" while her panties were slipped down far enough to mimic a "plumber's butt". Again her lips peeked out from either side of the panties riding between them while she "worked" under the sink in the most suggestive "come take me" position. 

And then she was on to the shower, denim shirt quickly soaking dark as she held her ground in the spray that was hitting her face. The shirt was gone, and the sides of her breasts peeked out at the camera. Gwen had to admit that the photos showed just enough of the "naughty bits" without getting downright lewd. 

She smiled again at the sight of her underwear lying on that ridiculous toolbelt, while right behind a well-turned leg attached to a firm buttock supported a body stepping into the tub. More shots, bubbles artfully placed to avoid any blatant displays, and then the final photo, of her forearms resting on the tub wall, her smiling face resting on her forearms. Her eyes misted. 

"Too much?" Barry asked nervously. "I can tone 'em down..."

"Too beautiful," Gwen admitted. They're wonderful, thank you. You're a magician."

"I'd love to take credit, but I had a superb subject. But let's decide what's the best of the best for the album first." 

Again the trio set to work, comparing notes, going back to the screen to look at particular shots, and a plan was finally set in place. Delivery dates were promised, and the women prepared to leave. 

"Gwen, I'm really proud of these. I'd love to display the portfolio on my website—on the secure area of course, where Natalie's are—with your permission. I'd give you a hefty discount on the price of the package if you say yes." 

Gwen was stunned. To have done this for Tim was one thing, to have them where others might see them, well that was out of the question. "You flatter me, but I'm not sure I could...I mean what would my husband say?"

"He's probably going to say 'that's my beautiful wife,' but I understand your concern. Once you give him the album, ask him if it's alright."

"I really can't—"

"Just think about it. And Natalie, my offer to you still stands, you know."

"Oh, I know. I'm thinking about it."

Thinking about it? Well, that's better than the no I got last time I asked. Keep thinking. They'd love to have you." 

The women were on the highway a few moments later, Gwen insisting on driving, Natalie reclining the passenger seat for a nap. 

"Gwen, those were incredible."

"He really does good work. It's like they're somebody else. I never knew that someone could take pictures of naked women and not make them look slutty."

"Yeah, he's good, and those are of you. No getting around it, girl, there's a hottie in there busting to get out. Let it loose."

"I thought I just did by having these photos taken?" 

"That's just you getting started. There's so much more..."

Gwen wanted to know what more Natalie could possibly believe would come out of her, but resisted the urge to ask. "So, what was it you told Barry you'd think about?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing important. I'll tell you later." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Gwen caught a movement down by her prone sister's midsection, followed by the sound of a zipper being pushed down. She was able to divert her attention from the road long enough to see Natalie's hand snaking into the front of her jeans and under her panties, her fingers languidly rubbing and scratching her mound before Gwen forced her eyes back on to the road. 

She was in shock. Her sister was touching herself in front of another person on a public highway. It was an incredibly brazen act, and Gwen reluctantly did her best to pay attention to her driving. 

"That took longer than I thought. Looks like we'll just make it back in time. I'm going to change into my scrubs before we get back to your house so I can just keep going after I drop you off," Natalie announced sleepily. 

"Would you like me to pull over at some place with a bathroom?"

"No, I can change right here. Done it before." Gwen caught a glimpse of her sister's hand being removed from her pants and told herself that she had just been getting ready to change, nothing more. 

Natalie sat up without bringing the seat back up and kicked off her sandals before raising her butt to slide the jeans and underwear off in one move. "But first," she announced, "I hope you don't mind, but I haven't gotten any since last Thursday, and I know the perfect fast-acting nap inducer." The half-naked woman undid the glove compartment latch and withdrew a large tapered metallic cylinder. Holding it up to the stunned woman beside her, she asked, "Would it freak you out if I take care of something? It won't take long...but if you think it's too far out there, just say so and I'll wait until later." 

The Lady was in stunned disbelief. It was Natalie's SUV, and she had done Gwen a favor by coming along, and she did have to go to work, so to say no to anything her sister did in the comfort of her own car would be rude. But this wasn't just anything-she wanted to masturbate, right there and right now! I wanna watch, the Slut purred. Gwen dismissed her.

"Uh, no, no, go ahead. You have a full workday ahead of you—you shouldn't have to wait," Gwen babbled. 

Natalie smiled and rolled to her side to reach for the blanket in the backseat, her bare sex nearly brushing Gwen's hand resting on the gear shift. The startled driver jerked her hand away. Rolling back, the bottomless woman spread the fabric over her lower half and pushed both hands and the vibrator underneath.

"No accidents, please," she said, closing her eyes as her knees came up and out under the blanket. "I really don't want to explain to the paramedics why I have genital contusions and a stupid smile." 

Gwen smiled nervously, unable to resist the urge to cast sidelong glances at the seat next to her, wondering how a vibrator could make so little noise. Because it was off, the Slut chuckled as Natalie switched it on, the raspy hum quite noticeable before her sister planted it firmly against her clit, muffling it somewhat. 

Her knees twitched under the blanket, the fabric over her crotch moving in time to what the hands and vibrator were doing underneath. The fact that Natalie could be this open about such a personal and erotic act astounded Gwen; the sighs, croons, and soft moans coming from her sister fascinated her. She had never heard so much noise during sex; even Tim seemed content with no more than the occasional grunt upon his release. But Natalie sounded like she was really getting into it, the volume and intensity increasing as her pleasure grew. Her sister-in-law felt some embarrassment at being a witness to such a private moment, but the eroticism she felt was greater.

The vibrator sang its own story, the buzzing sometimes more like a truck laboring up a hill as the woman holding it pressed it ever harder into her slit. Her grunting became rhythmic, as though some unseen lover was buried deep insider her working to his own release, before with a strangled cry her legs straightened out, thighs trapping the vibrator in place, and she orgasmed. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 20



It was fortunate traffic was light as Gwen was enthralled by the performance, the sights, sounds, and she could swear, the smells, taking place right next to her. The orgasm ran its course, and Natalie's body went limp. "Whooo!" she exclaimed, flipping the blanket off of her and climbing between the seats into the back in search of her bag. "That was a good one." Gwen was very conscious of the bare bottom facing traffic right next to her face, and wondered if any of the motorists going in the opposite direction caught the show as well. 

Natalie settled back into her seat, scrubs in hand, and stripped down to just her jogbra before reversing the process. In short order, she was again laying back against the seat, fully dressed.

"Thanks Gwen," she said as she settled in to nap. "That was just what I needed." She did not awake until they were again pulling into the Nelson's driveway.

Natalie languidly stretched, arms high over her head reaching into the back seat. "Thanks for driving, Gwen. The nap hit the spot. I always forget how much work it is to come back from vacation." 

"The only reason you had to leave home at all today was me, remember?" 

"Wouldn't have missed that for the world. Those were really hot photos." Gwen blushed but said nothing as she put the SUV in park. Both women got out, Natalie coming to the driver's side.

"I'll just make it to work on time," she said as she quickly hugged Gwen and kissed her on the cheek. "Are we on for a ride Friday?"

"I'd like that."

"Great. Same time then. Gotta go." The woman slid into the driver's seat, honked the horn, and was gone. Gwen waved and made her way to the office to check for messages. Finding nothing important, she weighed her next steps. The reviewing of the proofs and Natalie's performance in the passenger seat had left Gwen no doubt that she had her own needs to attend to. It was the very public nature of the actions she had witnessed that drove her to something different, something more daring. A quick glance at the clock gave her confidence she had just enough time before the trucks started returning. Gwen almost broke into a jog on her way to the barn and hurriedly saddled Dart, the horse puzzled at the speed at which the woman appeared and worked. In moments they were making the first turn into the woods above the house, Gwen peeling off blouse and bra as they trotted, thankful that she had worn jeans that morning. The solidness of the saddle between her legs pressed against her sex, both teasing and exciting her. She was in no mood to ride easy despite the heat this afternoon, and she kept the horse moving at a quick pace up the hill until the picnic table appeared in the clearing before them. 

Gwen loosely tethered Dart to a nearby tree and quickly scanned the area for others, not bothering to redress as she did so. Satisified, the bare-breasted woman made her way to the table and sat down, relishing the feel of the sun on her skin despite the heat. She wanted more, though. Her boots were kicked off, jeans and panties boldly discarded, and then she was naked, far from home, where passerbys would see her if there were passerbys on this remote hillside. Gwen cursed herself for not bringing a blanket she might lay on the grass where the horses grazed during their visits to the spot, and instead, climbed on to the top of the table, lay back, and opened her legs in invitation to the valley below. Her ears remained on guard for any interruptions while her eyes closed and her mind summoned dirty thoughts, the fingers of one hand lazily turned circles on the skin of her stomach and breasts while the other found its way to her cleft, a single finger turning tighter circles around her nub. The events of her morning and the sheer audacity of her current state of dress and activity made her orgasm quick and powerful, one hand squeezing a breast while the middle finger of the other strummed her clitoris. A small squeak escaped her as the first wave rolled through. 

The sound of Dart shaking his bridle and snorting greeted her return to her senses. Gwen lifted her head and looked back over her shoulder, the horse staring back as if amused at his human's odd behavior. She smiled sheepishly and quickly got back into her jeans and boots, leaving the shirt off until later. Horse and rider made their way back down the hill, slower than the ascent, but still quickly enough for Gwen to arrive before the trucks. 

"No Mrs. Nelson?" 

Cliff met the young apprentice on the other side of the truck. "Do you see Mrs. Nelson?"

Jordan looked at the ground, understanding his question sounded a little foolish. "No."

"Do you think Mrs. Nelson would be waiting for us if she were here?"

"Yeah."

"Then no, no Mrs. Nelson. She's probably still out with her sister. Why, you want to ask for a raise?"

Jordan smiled. "Think she'd say yes?"

"I think she'd say no, and Tim would probably tell you you're lucky you still work here. Get that stuff off the truck."

"Hey Cliff?"

The plumber stopped his climb up the office stairs and whirled. "What!"

"Think I can go for a swim before she gets home?" 

The large black man sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm guessing you didn't bring shorts?" 

"Well, no..."

"Get the truck unloaded and if she's still not home, then yes. But if she does come home while you're up there, for Gawd's sake get dressed. Last thing I want to do is explain why there's an apprentice up in the pool with his tiny dick out."

"I'm so big it'd be impossible to miss!" The young apprentice quickly set to work. 

Walt's truck had pulled up while he had been talking to Cliff. "Hey Andrew, Mrs. Nelson ain't here! Wanna go for a swim?" 

The apprentice stepped out from beside the truck. "Cliff say it was OK?" A quick grin and nod gave him the answer. "I didn't bring a suit." 

"Neither did I. Just don't try and touch my junk or anything and we'll be OK."

"You wish." The two young men quickly finished their assignments and headed up the hill, a small cooler of beer in Jordan's hand. Cans were cracked open and swigs taken before the pair hurriedly stripped and dove into the cool water, climbing out repeatedly to reach the beers on the table before diving in again. 

Gwen shivered in excitement at the idea of riding ever closer to the house topless. She knew it was dangerous, but there was an undeniable thrill at the idea of being so exposed while so close to where she knew the plumbers and the apprentices would be returning to any moment. She would dress again well before she exited the woods, to be sure, but still the thought drove her on. 

She had almost reached the last turn of the trail before it descended into the open field above the barn when she stopped. Far enough, she decided. The Lady had already declared her insane a half-mile back; the fear that someone might come up the trail from the house overcame the excitement at the same thought. Gwen lightly dismounted, grabbing the blouse and bra trapped between her leg and saddle as she went. 

She instinctively covered herself and froze as a sound came through the trees, the sound of splashing coming from the direction of the pool, followed by the sound of young male voices. Not Tim, she quickly realized, some of the apprentices...Jordan and...Andrew?

Gwen hurriedly dressed, fearing they might be able to see her through the thick underbrush, guessing they couldn't. Now what? Should she wait until they had left, or just ride back down into the yard, as though she was just late in meeting them? Maybe she should somehow announce her presence to let them know she was coming, just in case they weren't...decent?

Why don't you take a look for yourself, the Slut suggested. Go down behind that tree. Gwen hesitated, mulling the thought of the possible invasion of privacy. Maybe I should just go look before riding down, she decided, just to be sure, just so they're not embarrassed if I surprise them.

The rider tied her horse to a nearby branch and made her way through the brush in comically stealthy fashion, doing her best to avoid snapping twigs underfoot. Crouching behind the trunk of a particularly large pine, she checked about for anything poisonous, then carefully peered through a leafy bush to her left. 

She was greeted by the sight of a naked back hoisting itself over the pool edge and on to the deck below her, less than a hundred feet away. A bare bottom followed, glistening in the sunlight, while a head covered in blonde hair bobbed close by, the body it was attached to preparing to follow the same route on to the wet concrete. 

She watched the naked figure pad across the pool deck to the table where a cooler and some beers sat. Jordan, she decided. The compact, muscular body was familiar enough, even if it had always had a layer of clothing between it and her before. The young man grabbed for a can and turned to say something to the other body emerging from the pool. A quick look at his face confirmed her guess, but Gwen's attention was drawn to the rest of his body, to his well-developed chest just showing the first hints of hair, flat stomach, to his muscular legs, but most of all, to where his manhood hung. 

Gwen gazed in fascination at the second real penis she had ever seen, the nest of dark wet hair surrounding a dusky length that was plainly visible despite the effects of the cool water, a tight sac drawn up beneath it. 

Her attention shifted to the second figure emerging from the water. Taller and skinnier, she knew it had to be Andrew. The naked bum she had admonished herself for trying to peek at that day in the kitchen was to her delight, now in full view as made its way across the concrete to his beer. He too turned to look back at where he had come from, and she took in his body. While he easily had 4 inches in height on Jordan, he was not nearly as muscular as his counterpart, with a ribcage that nearly showed through the thin layer of sinew over it and colt-like legs. The effects of the cold water on his manhood was certainly more pronounced, a pink-tipped head sitting atop a stubby shaft just visible through the almost transparent thatch of blonde wet curls surrounding it. 

Gwen didn't dare breathe as she admired the two nude bodies while they talked and drank, the Lady urging her to retreat back to the trail, the Slut advising that to move now might risk discovery. She found herself wondering what the things hanging between their legs might look like if motivated to grow...

"I wonder if Tim and Mrs. Nelson ever swim like this?" 

Jordan looked over at his counterpart, a smile on his face. "What, like when they're drinking?" 

Andrew looked down at his beer. "No, like with no clothes on. You think Mrs. Nelson ever swims naked?" 

"Man, you are hung up on her. Yeah, she's probably hot as hell under all them clothes, but I'm tellin' ya, she's about as uptight as they come. She's probably got one of them bathing suits like they wear in the old movies, covers everything from ankles to neck. So hell no, I doubt it, and you in particular definitely ain't ever gonna see the goods. Now her sister on the other hand...I bet she'd let them puppies out to help her float if she were here. 'Course, I'd be happy to plug up her hole so she don't fill up and drown..." The apprentice emphasized his point by grabbing an imaginary pair of hips and violently thrusting forward.

"Hey, you two assholes finish up comparing your pathetic little cocks and get down here before Mrs. Nelson gets home! And don't forget to bring your empties with you!" Cliff's voice carried from below the hillock the pool sat on. She briefly hoped he might come and cool off as well, but she knew that was not likely. 

"I was comin' down anyways," Jordan called back, looking over nervously to see if their boss might have overheard their discussion. "Andrew's startin' to get wood and it's makin' me nervous!" 

Andrew blushed. "I am not! Fuck you!" he replied and reached for his discarded jeans. The two apprentices dressed and made their way back down the hill carrying their empty beer cans and cooler while Gwen crept back up to where Dart stood waiting. 

Sound carried well across the open field the pool sat in up the wooded hillside, and Gwen heard their entire conversation, even a whisper of the dull slap of Jordan's penis against his stomach as it swung wildly when he mimicked grabbing Natalie's hips and "plugging her hole". The things he had said shocked her; that he said them did not. She had always seen the apprentice as a more traditional tradesman, rough around the edges and more than a bit bawdy. In fact, he reminded her of a young Charlie Mortensen. She just hoped Jordan didn't develop the beer belly and appetite for women Charlie had, although she knew both were distinct possibilities.

Andrew's interest in her came as a much bigger surprise, though. He was such a nice young man, quiet and polite, much like Tim had been at that age, but without the self-confidence her future husband had displayed. Gwen knew that young men—and old men—always thought about sex, but the fact he wanted to see her naked, a middle-aged housewife, when there were so many pretty young girls around, still surprised her. Was that all he wanted? She'd have to be careful around him. Although she found his interest flattering, Gwen certainly didn't want to give him any reason to look. Still, she could not suppress a smile as she imagined him viewing the photos she had been looking at earlier that morning. 

The Slut suggested she ride in behind them, just to see their reaction, but the Lady counseled patience until all had left. She took the second suggestion and slowly made her way to the barn as the last car pulled away for the day. She was still in the tack room when Tim's truck returned a half-hour later.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 21



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

Again, thank you to all who have voted and commented. This type of serial writing is much easier when you have constructive feedback to help form choices for later chapters. 

*****

"So I guess you're letting it grow back?"

It took Gwen a moment to process the question as she lay snuggled against her husband. She and Tim had just finished a vigorous round of lovemaking, his tongue driving her to orgasm before he replaced it with something more solid even as she shuddered through her climax. 

"Sorry?"

"You're, uh, bush is starting to come back. It looks like you're letting it grow?"

Gwen glanced down her body to where the familiar dark shading between her legs had begun to return, knowing that Tim was in a much better position to have noticed just a few moments ago. Had she chosen to look more closely, she would have seen that the outline of her lips was beginning to blur again, a softer, fuzzier look than when Natalie had taken most of it and left just a small closely-trimmed vee atop her mons. Now the vee had filled out some, and the rest was not far behind. "I haven't really thought about it. Do you have a preference?"

"Well, uh, the trimmed look I think goes better with your style—you know, neat, clean, that kind of thing—but whatever you like is fine with me," he hurriedly added. Not to mention it was incredibly hot to have her pussy so blatantly displayed...

"Maybe...not sure..." She liked the trimmed look as well, but it still seemed a bit...slutty. The thought of shaving down there was also a concern. That was not an area for the inexperienced to make mistakes with a sharp blade. No more was said on the subject, and the couple slipped into a contented sleep.

Despite the Lady's warnings, she couldn't help herself as she climbed the open staircase to the office the next morning. Stopping halfway up, she looked down on the shop's bays where the apprentices were gathering materials for the day's appointments. 

"Boys, if you ever want to use the pool after work, there's no need to ask permission. I've left towels in the pool house for you to use, just hang them on the fence and clean up after yourselves when you're done. You supply whatever it is you think is fashionable swimwear nowadays." Gwen smiled and continued on up the stairs. 

The apprentices stared wide-eyed at each other, Jordan and Andrew certain they had been busted. Had they left a beer can up there? Did Cliff or Walt tell her? 

"Think she knows we were bare-assed?" Jordan mumbled as the two moved to where the copper tubing was stored. 

"Think we'd still be working here if she did?" Andrew hissed in a whisper.

"Nah, she wouldn't fire me—she'd probably just want me give her a good look of what she missed." 

"You're right, she'd be laughing too hard to fire you."

Upstairs, Gwen was giddy with the risqué game she had just played. She wondered if her comment regarding their choice of attire had taken it too far, but it wasn't enough to dampen the feeling that she had just gotten away with something. She wondered if they would take her up on her offer while the Slut wondered if they would do so without their clothes. 

As was now customary, the Nelsons did not feel the need for proper attire as they swam that evening, Gwen even dispensing with her robe prior to climbing the hillock. 

"Jordan was asking about your little announcement this morning," Tim offered casually as he sat sipping iced tea after his swim.

"Oh, really? I hope I didn't shock the boys. I just wanted to let them know they were welcome to use the pool after work." 

"He was a little surprised, to tell the truth. Wanted to know if you figured out they were up here yesterday. Told him I didn't know. Did you?" 

"Well, to be honest, I heard them splashing around when I was coming back down the hill at the end of my ride...I just turned around and went back up the trail for a little bit until I thought they were out."

Tim smiled mischievously. "See something you shouldn't have on the way down?"

"No, no," Gwen lied unconvincingly. "OK, well maybe I did, but I turned around and went back up until they got out and got dressed, alright?"

Tim continued to smile, not sure if she was telling the entire truth even now. "It's your pool. If they want to let it all hang out, they can't be too upset if you see what they've got hanging. Probably a good thing you didn't ride down on them. Jordan probably would have 'accidentally' given you a better look, but the embarrassment might have killed Andrew on the spot. He's really shy around girls...Walt thinks he might be gay, not that I'd care if he was. Kid's dependable, works hard and learns quick, that's all that matters to me." 

"Oh, I don't think he's that way," Gwen replied quickly, the young man's professed interest in her own unclothed status fresh in her mind. "I mean, you know, that he likes boys. I think he's just really shy, like you said." 

"Yeah, I think you're right. I hope them being bare-assed in the pool didn't shock you too much. I did kinda warn you a while back that they did that when you weren't here."

"No, it was fine," she reassured him. "I remember you saying that, that's why I went back up the hill. I don't need to see their, uhh, you know, private parts."

The couple made their way back down to the house, naked as when they had gone up, and although Gwen donned a robe once inside the house, she dropped it in time for bed and a comfortable round of lovemaking.

Gwen was in the barn when Natalie pulled up Friday morning, She turned to greet her sister as the sound of boots against gravel grew closer and discovered that her riding partner had discarded both t-shirt and bra for a barely-buttoned blouse, cleavage prominent and areolae visible under the thin white fabric. "Don't you ever worry about somebody seeing you without a bra?"

Natalie smiled and shrugged. "If I break down, these will get me help. If I get stopped by the cops, these might get me out of a ticket. I restrain the ladies most of the other times, but I didn't see a need to this morning since I let 'em enjoy the fresh air and scenery once I get here. Who else will see me?" 

True to her word, the shirt was removed before she mounted Tigger, Gwen following her sister's lead only after she had swung her leg over Dart. Natalie made note of how Gwen disrobed a little earlier into each ride, but said nothing. It wouldn't be much longer before she arrived to find her sister-in-law topless, she guessed. 

The ride was a quiet one, the heat and woodland sounds lulling horses and riders into a quiet rhythm as they moved up and around the hill, Gwen feeling the need to avoid the picnic table today, as if she didn't want to return to the scene of her earlier self-debauchment. It was not until they had returned, turned the horses out and made their way to the pool to cool off that Gwen felt energized enough to speak of more serious matters. 

"Natalie, how do you, uhh, keep yourself, uhh, bare, down there?" 

The nude woman took note of Gwen's nod to her midsection and took a sip of her wine before answering. "Scissors, a razor, a mirror, and some patience," she replied as she walked down the steps into the water, her equally nude sister staring at her vulva until it disappeared beneath the water. "I much prefer for somebody to do it for me, though. I get a Brazilian wax sometimes, but that hurts like hell. Why do you ask?" 

Gwen could not bear to look her in the eye. "Well, I'm starting to grow back down there, and I was thinking that maybe Tim likes it better if I keep it the way you uhh, trimmed it." 

Natalie smiled and set her glass on the edge of the pool. "Tell ya what." Her train of thought was interrupted by her submerging and gliding beneath the surface to the other side. She pushed off the bottom and sprang back into view, breasts bouncing wildly as they broke the surface. "Let's cut this swim short and get you squared away," she offered as she wiped the water from her eyes. "If you want me to give you a hand, that is." 

"Oh-yes—I'd like that," Gwen spluttered, not wanting to sound too eager. "Thank you." She still remembered how worked up she had gotten over having Natalie in such close proximity to her sex, and how the swipe of her fingers through her most intimate places had shocked but not upset her. The Lady insisted it was terribly ill-advised to put herself in such a position again. Of course you want her to, the Slut sneered. You wouldn't have asked her about it in the first place if you didn't. 

Natalie smiled and led the way back on to the concrete deck, Gwen too preoccupied with what was going to happen next to even get the upper half of her body wet before leaving the water. She followed along after the swaying bare bottom of her sister as it descended to the house and continued on in to the bedroom. "Okay, a small pair of scissors, a fresh razor, the ones you use for your legs will do, some shaving cream, bowl of water, baby oil, and a towel, please." 

Gwen managed to locate all of the items in short order, thankful for her insistence on the "everything in its place" method of organization in her home, making several trips to bring everything to the bedroom. Taking the towel from her, Natalie spread it on the end of the bed and flopped back, propping herself up on her elbows and spreading her legs to the startled woman holding the other items. 

"Let's start with you practicing on me. I just did mine a couple of days ago, but that will make it easier and another go-round can't hurt, especially if I missed any place. First thing to do would be trim up the stuff I wanna leave, but since I just did that, you can probably just get to work with the razor."

"Natalie, I don't think that's a good idea! What if I cut you or—" 

"You won't cut me. It's like shaving your legs. Straight strokes, don't move the blade sideways, take your time, go slow."

"I don't—"

"C'mon, just put some of the shaving cream on and get to work." 

With a sigh, Gwen stepped forward and sank to her knees between Natalie's outstretched legs. A part of her wanted to count how many years it had been since she had been between another woman's thighs, but the math was never performed as her attention was drawn to the sight before her. Miss Ritter had never shaved down there, but had maintained the same neatness and self-control she had displayed in the rest of her appearance and her life. Scissor work in this sensitive area had not been one of Gwen's responsibilities, and yet her instructor was always neatly trimmed, the effect softening and blurring the parts underneath. She remembered how it sometimes tickled her nose...

The Lady reminded her how inappropriate her reminiscence was, and demanded she focus on the only slightly-less scandalous situation in front of her. Natalie's sex stood out in stark contrast to her old mentor's soft lines, her sister's cleft and lips without benefit of any cover, almost as if the two women had different body parts. The dusky color contrasting with her tanned thighs, the puffiness of her labia, the hood of her clitoris, all were proudly on display to the fascinated woman. 

"Go ahead Gwen, it won't bite," Natalie said with a smile. "Get some shaving cream on there and get to work." 

Gwen looked up and blushed, certain she had been caught staring. Natalie smiled back and nodded her head in an effort to get her to begin. With shaking hands the kneeling woman reached for the shaving cream and aimed it at a spot to the right of the reclining woman's patch of remaining hair. 

To Gwen's surprise, green gel landed with a splat on bare skin. She had been expecting white foam, but remembered she had bought this kind for Tim a while back because it was on sale. She knew a little went a long way, but it had to be rubbed in to get it to expand and cover. Gingerly she used two fingers of her free hand to gently rub the product across Natalie's mons, green turning to white as she did so. Gwen continued to spread the product down the strips of flesh between thigh and sex, accidentally making contact with Natalie's prominent lips several times, eventually stopping just short of the beginning of the woman's bum cheeks. 

"Got it all?"

Gwen looked up, eyes wide, and nodded.

"Good. Now short strokes with the razor, don't press too hard, rinse it off from time to time, get as much of the shaving cream off as you can." 

She willed her shaking hand to calm itself and tentatively pulled a line down from where the foam started to a spot parallel and to the right of where she guessed a clitoris lay hidden under the white fluff. Bare skin appeared where the blade had passed, reminding her of a field being mown. She continued to work, swathes of shaving cream collected and rinsed off in the bowl, until only the valley between her sister's legs remained covered. With a deep breath, Gwen set to work, drawing short paths from the junction of thigh to where she imagined labial lips to be, eventually leaving just a thin strip of white down the middle. 

"All set?" Natalie looked down at her expectantly. 

"Just a little shaving cream left, right on top of your, uhh, you know."

Natalie raised her head a bit more, trying to get a look. "My pussy, Gwen. That's my pussy. You can wipe that off, then use your finger to make sure you got it all."

"You do it," Gwen insisted, thrusting a washcloth up towards her sister's breasts.

"You can do it," she soothed. "I told you it won't bite." 

With another deep breath, she willed herself to relax and removed what she could with the towel, delicately inserting a finger into her sister's sex to collect the remnants, quickly pulling away when she felt the bump of her clitoris. 

"Good job!" Natalie swung her leg over Gwen's head and rolled to the side before standing up. Grabbing the towel, she quickly facecloth away any remnants of foam, then ran her hand over the shaved areas. "Nice and smooth, and I survived. Piece of cake. Now, want me to take care of yours, or do you want to try it yourself?" She smiled as if already knowing the answer. 

"I, uhh, think you should do it. I should probably try it when there's not so much." 

Natalie smiled again, knowing the stubble there now was but a shadow of what had grown there for years, but said nothing. "Be right back." She hurried to the bathroom and returned a moment later with a fresh towel which she laid on the bed. 

"Okay, hop on and assume the position." 

Gwen complied, more slowly than Natalie had and laid back, staring at the ceiling as Natalie moved into position and began to work, a gentle tug on her pubic hair followed by the snick of scissors.

"Your first time that close to a girl in quite a while, I would imagine," Natalie said in a tone that reminded Gwen of the voice her hairdresser used when making conversation. Despite the seeming innocence of the question, she knew exactly what was meant. 

"Yes, I guess it was." 

"Did it stir up any bad memories?"

It took Gwen a moment to respond. "No. No, not really," she said truthfully. "Maybe because I was concentrating and trying not to slice you open." 

"Well, thank you for that, although it's really is hard to cut people too badly with a safety razor. Nicks can be a problem though, and I think those hurt just as bad, so thanks for your attention to detail." 

Gwen jumped a little as the first cold spurt of gel hit her squarely above her clitoris. Natalie began to work it about, Gwen noting she seemed less concerned about where her fingers traveled, frequently brushing her lips and occasionally sliding between them. She also noted the practiced ease with which her sister wielded the razor, firm strokes quickly removing both hair and cream at a speed Gwen could not imagine moving at. 

"I also want to thank you for letting me jill off on the way home the other day," Natalie murmured from between her legs as she worked. "I wasn't really sure how you'd feel about that." 

"It was your car, and you were doing me a favor just by being there," Gwen countered as reasonably as she could with a naked razor-wielding woman between her legs. "But I kind of thought you were teasing me when you offered me the chance after my photo shoot. Have you done that before?"

"Oh yeah," Natalie replied as she concentrated on moving the blade over the spot below her opening. "I used to do that from time to time for Adam's benefit before we had the kids. And Liz and I once drove to Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale, and we had a contest to see who could come more times during the drive there and back. The driver drove while the passenger played. I won, but I think she delayed her orgasms to keep me behind the wheel. It got me hot as hell to watch her play with herself, though. Speaking of which, I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me—did it turn you on having me doing that right next to you on a busy highway?"

"It wasn't that busy a highway," Gwen answered in a weak attempt at evasion. She could feel the razor pull away from her skin in mid-stroke and raised her head enough to see Natalie looking back at her, waiting expectantly. "Why do you want to know?"

"Let's just say sometimes I like to know if I'm reading people right." 

Gwen briefly thought about questioning her more on that statement—how exactly was she being read?—but decided it might not be something she wished to know. "If you must know, I found it, umm, interesting. So yes, maybe I got a little excited. It's not every day I see something like that." 

"Interesting? Huh. I'll take that as a good thing." The blade returned. "Did you find it interesting enough to do something about it after I dropped you off?"

"And why do you want to know that?"

"Because I find things interesting, too."

Gwen sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Yes, I did."

"Good for you!" Natalie wiped away the remains of the shaving cream using facecloth and fingers before baby oil was applied to he sister's freshly-shaved skin, a finger pushing its way past her lips and slowly up her slit, dragging across her clitoris and stopping for a second before exiting.

"All set! Smooth as silk!" Natalie stood and offered her hand to help the prone woman up., backing away as Gwen arose. "We forgot my baby oil." 

"Oh! Uh, sorry about that." 

Natalie smiled and put a foot on the edge of the bed, opening herself to her sister. "No problem. Can you put it on me now?" 

The Lady huffed, wondering why she couldn't do it herself. She did it for me, Gwen reminded herself, it would be rude not to return the favor. 

"Get it everywhere you shaved," Natalie coached as she worked. "Helps keep the skin soft." 

Gwen did her best, even dragging a finger into the folds of Natalie's cleft, pulling it back just short of her button. "I think I got it all," she finally announced. 

Natalie replaced Gwen's hand with her own, further smoothing the oil in, running her finger deep into her valley. "I think you did. So how are you feeling?"

"Oh, fine, thanks, it looks good. I'm sure Tim will love it."

"You gonna take care of your itch before or after he gets home?" 

"Excuse me?"

"You looked pretty wet down there. Unless you're just naturally well-lubricated, I'd say that excited you some. Don't be embarrassed—I get worked up when other people give me trims, too."

Gwen tried to comprehend the absurdity of the situation. She was standing in her bedroom, naked, with her equally naked sister, discussing the state of their sexual arousal after playing barber to each other's most private parts! "No, just, uhh...well, it's been a long time and it brought back some memories, and...well, I'm sure Tim will be able to uhh,...help me with things."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 21



"If you want to help yourself right now, it won't bother me. I might even help myself while you're doing that." 

"What...oh, no, I couldn't do that with somebody watching, not even Tim. But thank you for thinking of me," Gwen babbled, feeling foolish the moment she uttered it. 

A knowing smile crossed Natalie's lips. "Suit yourself. But I'm betting Tim would love to see a show like that, and I think you might benefit as well. Be right back, gonna get my stuff out of the car. Want me to wait outside for a bit?" The nude woman smiled as Gwen blushed and averted her eyes. Natalie turned and left, not bothering to grab anything she might cover up with for her trip across the yard. 

Gwen followed her down the hall after grabbing the robe the Lady insisted she wear—could you imagine if someone had walked in on the scene that had just taken place?—and was there in in the kitchen when Natalie returned, duffle bag in hand. 

"Can I get you something to eat before you go?" Gwen asked nervously, afraid she had somehow sent a message of distrust to the one person she truly counted as a trusted friend. "If you want to use my bedroom to, uhh, take care of yourself, please feel free!"

Natalie smiled and began to dress right there in the kitchen. "Nah, that's alright. Sometimes it's fun to have an edge at work. Makes giving sponge baths more interesting." She smiled to show her attempt at humor. "Hey, sorry I made you uncomfortable in there, I should have known better than to put you in spots like that." 

"Oh no, please don't apologize. I just don't have a lot of experience with how girls talk and act around each other when they're not trying to make each other miserable. Is what we just talked about and did normal?"

"Very normal for me and my friends, at least," Natalie said as she kissed her on the cheek, "but it sounds like not so much for the crowd you grew up with. Gotta go—talk to you soon." 

Gwen stood on the deck until the SUV was out of sight beyond the trees. Despite the almost painful embarrassment of being so obviously in heat in front of her own sister, she knew that arousal would have to be taken care of sooner than later. A trip back to the bedroom to retrieve her toys was definitely in order. But first, she really should check the office for any messages...it seemed silly to dress just for a trip across the yard, though. The robe should do. You don't even need the robe, the Slut suggested. 

The Lady screamed warnings from her perch on Gwen's shoulder. What if somebody comes while you're in the office! You'll be trapped! Gwen smiled and removed the robe, but as a compromise, draped the garment over her right arm. She looked and listened for what seemed like an eternity, ready to bolt back into her kitchen and on to the bedroom at any hint of discovery. Sensing none, she tentatively stepped off the stairs and on to the flagstone walk. Hew slow walk built up momentum while she resisted the urge to run, reminding herself that moving quickly only took her farther away from the relative safety of the house. The office might offer temporary shelter, but eventually she would have to explain why she was out there in just a bathrobe, if she had time to put that on at all.

Gwen's heart pounded with each step she took towards the building at the other end of the property, acutely aware that the thin screen of trees to her left were her only shield from vehicles on the road beyond. It was the sound of a car in the distance, coming her way, that made her break into a jog to cover the last few yards. She reached the door next to the garage bays as the car rattled past, Gwen thankful it was not stopping. 

The large open area was stuffy in the afternoon heat, the closed garage doors not allowing any movement of air. She began to climb the stairs, wooden steps barely creaking under her bare feet as she climbed. 

The air up here was stifling, the air conditioner left off in an oversight during the morning's paperwork. Gwen turned the unit on, looking out the window it sat in and onto the road beyond at the end of their driveway. The realization someone on the road might be able to see her made her retreat to the desk. 

Two messages, one from a customer asking for a call back after 4pm, one from Tim. There, you know you have calls to make, the Lady pleaded, for God's sake, go put some clothes on before you do. Instead the nude woman began dialing.

"Nelson Plumbing—hi, Mrs. Nelson."

Gwen startled and nearly dropped the phone as she scrambled for her robe. "Andrew!?" 

"Yes ma'am. Tim's busy at the moment. He asked me to talk to you." The young man seemed almost apologetic.

The nude woman sat back, laughing nervously to herself. You idiot, he can't see you. He can't see you...her time spent with Natalie and the extreme risk she was even now taking drove her on. "That's fine, Andrew. What does he need?" 

"Tim? Mrs. Nelson would like to know what you want." She could hear her husband's voice, muffled and distant. "He says he'd like you to get a 2-inch bronze relief valve on order. He's going to need it the middle of next week." 

"2 inch? That's a big one."

"Yes ma'am, it is." The young apprentice resisted the urge to snicker. Girls could be so naive about what they were saying sometimes. He wondered if Jordan would have been able to refrain from commenting on her choice of words.

"Tell him I'll get it on order right away. Is there anything else you need?" 

The line was silent for a moment while Andrew relayed the message. "No ma'am. That's it." 

"Alright then, call if you want anything else."

The connection was broken, and Gwen sat for a moment, reliving the moment. Wants anything else? The Slut mocked. What he wants was sitting right here in the chair, just the way he wants it. If only he knew just how naked you were...ready to show him everything.

Gwen was shocked to discover her legs had spread themselves in a lewd display during their call. The urge to release the pressure that had building all morning was overwhelming, and her index finger was even now tracing lines over the soft skin around her sex. It would be so easy to just let loose right here, she thought, but too dangerous. Reluctantly she made her way back downstairs and across the yard, robe carried in one hand as she hurried back to the house. She was moved more quickly this time, not because she was any more afraid of being exposed, but because of the urgent need to make herself climax. 

The much desired orgasm arrived just moments after the Magic Wand had been roughly pulled from its boot and plugged in, images of Natalie and Andrew and the shows she might put on for them swirling in her head as the vibrator urgently buzzed between her legs. The guilt over not including Tim in her lurid fantasies did not hit her until she had begun to come down off of her sexual high, the sound of the remote office phone ringing in the kitchen hastening her to her senses. Gwen hurried into the kitchen on slightly wobbly legs, still naked. 

"N-Nelson Plumbing." 

"Hey Gwen, it's me. You okay? You sound out of breath." 

"Oh, Tim! Everything's fine, I just had to run upstairs to get the phone." 

"Oh. Well, do me a favor and add another relief valve to that order Andrew asked you to call in. And also, don't wait dinner for me. I'm going to take the crews out for a beer to thank them for getting that courthouse project done. We'll bring the trucks back when we're done. If you want, you can join us."

"No, a woman in a crowd of men tends to make the conversation more polite than I expect men like. You guys go out, talk about laying pipe or whatever it is plumbers talk about when they're off-duty. Just be safe." 

Tim rolled his eyes and smiled. Gwen could be so naïve with the things she said sometimes. "We will. See you tonight. Love you."

"Love you too." 

Gwen made her way back to the office, clothed this time, to place Tim's order and finish up some paperwork, then hurried to sneak in a quick swim. Barn chores were done and a light dinner was waiting for Tim when the trucks rolled in at seven. 

It was almost eight when Tim sat down at the table. "Don't worry about cleaning up—I'll do it in the morning," Gwen told him as she kissed him on the top of his head. "I'm going to bed a little early tonight. See you in there."

"Everything alright?" 

"Everything's fine. Come to bed when you're ready." 

Tim ate quickly, a glass of diet soda his preferred beverage after the two beers he had consumed earlier. He wandered about the house, waiting for the local weather to come on while making sure lights were off and windows closed.

The weather appeared fine for a morning on the lake—his own boat this time. He was going to fish this weekend, damn it. It was going to be him alone, though—he hadn't been able to find anyone free to go with him. 

A morning alone on the lake would not be the worst thing in the world, he thought as he opened the bedroom door—

Gwen lay on the bed, facing him. Or rather her lower half facing him, legs wide open in invitation. "Surprise!" she said with a weak smile and tentative voice. "Notice anything different?" 

"A beautiful woman on my bed, offering herself to me? Nope, pretty standard." He stepped closer, pulling off his shirt as he moved. "I do see the beautiful woman has freshened up her hairstyle, though." His shorts were off next, a rapidly engorging staff lifting its head for its own look. "You did a great job," he murmured as he dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms about her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. 

"Well, I had some help..." 

Tim's lips stopped inches from her sex. "Really?"

"Well, yes, I mean, Natalie and I went riding together, and then we went swimming, and you already know we don't wear suits, and I asked her how she does hers, and she said it's easier if someone does it for you, so I practiced on her, and she shaved me. You're not mad, are you?" she babbled, her voice rushed and nervous. 

"No, not at all," Tim replied truthfully. "I wasn't aware she was trimmed."

"Oh, yes, I think she gave me her style down there."

"Well, I'm sure she can't taste as good as you." Tim buried his tongue in the bare folds before him, worried he had overstepped his bounds by even mentioning another woman's pussy in Gwen's presence, particularly her sister's. 

She ran her fingers through his hair as he licked. "That's sweet of you to say, but I'm sure it's not true." Gwen resisted the Lady's demand she mind her mouth. You and your husband are comparing you and your sister's private parts as if they're pies!

Tim happily worked for a few moments more, Gwen's arousal building as he spent more time on her sensitive clitoris. "Honey, what about you?" she finally asked. "You need some attention, too." 

He looked up, cheeks glistening with her wetness. Gwen knew she should be disgusted, the knowledge of where it came instead exciting her more. "Well, if you insist..." Tim moved from between her legs and laid beside her as she scooted back up the bed a little. He kissed her, the taste of his lips a pungent reminder of where they had just been. Gwen reached for his staff, but her husband was quicker, straddling her chest while he reached for pillows. These were gently pushed behind her head, bringing her face-to-eye with the swaying cobra before her. The snake pushed forward until the pink head made contact with her lips, gently pushing them apart and sliding past them just a little to where her tongue could begin to work. 

Gwen's mouth lavished attention on whatever amount of her husband's length he chose to give her, her right hand wrapping around his length while the other fondled his dangling sac. He was content to let her work for some time, and she sensed he was growing close to giving her his seed in a most depraved way, a way she found herself looking forward to. 

She was surprised, therefore, when he withdrew, his diamond-hard staff laid between her breasts. 

"Push your boobs together."

Gwen looked up at him, her confusion clear to him. 

"Push your boobs together so they wrap around my cock." 

Her hands gently pushed the mounds of flesh together until they formed a tunnel from which the pink head of his snake emerged. Tim's hips flexed, and the snake's head pushed forward, out of sight below her chin. She looked up at him to see if she was doing it right, the contented look on his face told her she was. 

Tim fell forward until his chest hovered over his wife's head, hands propped on either side of her while the cudgel between her breasts picked up speed. Her own hand crept behind the working torso and began to circle her clit with a firm finger, Gwen's hips developing their own rhythm as her sex-fogged mind decided the man on top of her would not notice what was going on behind him. With a final thrust, he grunted, and she felt rather than saw the first jet of semen erupt from him, landing in the hollow of her throat, hot against her skin, other blasts pooling with the first.

A hearty exhale told her he was finished. The spent man scrambled to his feet. "Stay there," he ordered. Gwen froze but didn't remove her hand from its spot between her legs, finger cautiously starting its rotation again as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Her finger stopped mid-circle as he reappeared with a washcloth in hand. Gently he dried her neck, careful to catch any stray droplets or dribbles, then bent to kiss her. "Want me to finish that for you?" 

Gwen blushed. "Sorry?" 

"I thought I might have interrupted you—" Tim glanced down at her crotch meaningfully before finding her eyes again—"and I wondered if you wanted my help?"

Embarrassment over being caught wrestled with a need for release. "I'd love for you to hold me, and if you want to, umm, help me, I'd love that too."

Tim was happy to oblige, spooning her as one arm pulled her tight to him while the calloused fingers of his other hand alternated between stroking her button and filling her opening. Her second orgasm of the day soon followed.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 22



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

Tim was up first that morning, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt as the first hints of dawn lightened their bedroom window. Gwen rose as well, heading to the kitchen to make coffee for her husband to take with him on to the lake that morning. 

"Hey, why don't you come with me?" 

The robed woman turned to him from her spot at the counter. "Where? Fishing?" 

"Yeah, come with me!"

Gwen laughed. "You know I don't fish."

"You don't have to. Bring a book, take a nap, enjoy the sights, be my boat's eye candy." 

"But I know you like the peace and quiet..." 

"You're not exactly loud and obnoxious. C'mon, I'll let you drive the boat."

"Now I know you're not serious. Besides, I've got nothing ready to go out on the lake..."

"Throw the coffee in a thermos. Put on some comfy clothes, and let's go. We'll make the rest up as we go along." 

"I don't know..."

Tim rose. "Get dressed while I hook up the trailer." With a smile, he turned and went outside. 

An order's an order, Gwen thought, and headed back to the bedroom. Jeans, long-sleeve shirt and sweatshirt were quickly selected. It's probably going to be hot out there once the sun comes up, she realized. I'll be overdressed by 10. The now-nude woman weighed her options, a plan forming. Twenty minutes later, she and Tim were on the road.

Despite the early hour, the landing was busy when they arrived. Tim waited patiently to put in, finally backing boat and trailer into the warm water. Once afloat, he tied up to a nearby dock, parked the truck and returned. 

He pulled away with the throttle low, not wishing to disturb the residents of the nearby cottages, gradually increasing speed as they moved farther up the lake to the more uninhabited reaches. Boats, houses, and other signs of civilization became less common until Tim cut the engine and glided into a sheltered, tree-lined cove. Gwen was thankful for her sweatshirt in this shady nook, but could see the sun would be on them before too long. 

"Coffee?" she asked as Tim set to unlimbering his pole. 

"Yeah, that stuff we picked up on the way was terrible," he said with a grimace. "That's quite a bag," he added with a smile. "Did you pack the coffeemaker?" 

"Hush. I wasn't sure what it would be like, so I just threw some things in not knowing what we'd need." 

"That's my Gwen. Always prepared. Well, I guess it can't hurt to bring a raft along just in case." 

"Stop it, or you'll get your own coffee." 

Tim made his first cast after settling into a spot on the stern while Gwen curled up in the sunken seating area forward of the cockpit. The book she had brought with her remained unopened as she just sat and enjoyed the quiet, birds and frogs making a pleasant counterpoint to the muffled sounds of outboard engines reaching their little harbor from across the open stretches of water. Her seat did not allow her much of a view to either side of the boat, set as it was deep into the hull, but she didn't mind—what she could see of the trees and the blue sky above was relaxing enough. She could see why Tim treasured his time out here just as much as she valued her rides with Dart...

The cove began to brighten, the line of shade retreating across the inlet as the sun advanced overhead. The high summer heat soon followed, and Gwen knew her fears of being overdressed had been well-founded. Tim smiled when he glanced back to see his wife had discarded the Nelson Plumbing sweatshirt to reveal the long shirt beneath. He wondered if her bag included shorts or at least a skirt, and if she would be daring enough to change her clothes right here in the middle of the lake. 

He did a double-take when he looked back a short time later and found that the jeans were gone, bikini bottoms just barely visible behind Gwen's drawn-up legs. 

She didn't miss her husband's extended look. "You don't think people can see me here, right?" 

"Not unless they're right next to the boat, or sitting in a tree." 

Tim turned back to his line, a smile on his face. He was only slightly less surprised to find the next time he turned that the shirt had been discarded as well, revealing a matching bikini top. 

"You're sure no one can see me, right?" 

Tim looked around for effect. "Just the squirrels." Gwen slouched into the seat a little more and returned to her book. He smiled again, checked the reel, and walked forward to sit down next to her. "Thanks for coming out with me. I appreciate the company." 

"Thank you for asking me. I had almost forgotten how pretty it could be out here."

"I never thought you had time to appreciate the scenery when we used to come out here. It's not so beautiful when you have two children with you screaming for you to go faster and asking when they would get to swim." 

Gwen smiled. "I was so worried they would fall overboard." 

"They had life preservers. They'd float until we got back to them." 

Tim smiled at the beautiful woman beside him and leaned in to kiss her. "Something I want to ask you." 

Uh-oh. "Uhh, sure?"

"It's none of my business, and if you don't want to talk about it, that's okay too, but when you and Natalie were givin' each other haircuts yesterday, did that bother you any?"

Gwen's eyes grew wide. "Oh God! I'll stop! I thought you wouldn't be mad—I'm so sorry!" 

Tim smiled, a patient laugh rolling out. "Relax. I'm not mad, it's just something that most guys will think that if you're down there, you're down there for more than a trim and a shave." 

Gwen looked around nervously, suddenly remembering that sound carried across open water. "Do you?" Tim smiled and a shrugged his shoulders. "I know, I know, I even asked Natalie if it was normal to do that and she said it was with her friends. Of course, I know shaving each other's privates is just one small part of what she and her friends do together. Tim, I have no experience with what women do or don't do around each other—I'm sure she's telling the truth, but maybe she's not normal!?" 

"It's possible," Tim conceded. He knew he had very little experience in this area—a former girlfriend had once strongly hinted at what really happened at her slumber parties, and how she had picked up certain tidbits of sexual prowess from friends, but what the hell did that mean, anyways? "But I think what's more important is how you feel about all this—does it make you uncomfortable, or is it something else, something, I don't know...enjoyable?" 

Gwen folded her arms and brought her body forward to rest on her knees. "I would never tell this to anyone else in the world, and I can't believe I'm even telling you, but since you asked...you promise not to get mad?" A smile and a shake of his head was mildly reassuring to her. "I feel a little like I used to when I would go to Miss Ritter's apartment...like I knew I was doing something incredibly deviant, but that just made it really exciting, and that made it feel even better. I mean, I get excited with you when we...make love... too, but this is different, like it's so risky and dangerous, like being on a rollercoaster. I know it's sick and depraved...maybe, I need to slow down, or talk to somebody." 

"Rollercoasters are fun, and safe if you don't have a bad back or are pregnant. If what you're doing isn't hurting anybody, most of all you, why not do it?" 

"Because it's wrong?"

"Says who?"

"Says morality and decency."

"Fuck morality and decency. Morality is doing what you think is right; decency is not hurting anybody else while doing it." 

Gwen laughed at her husband's use of such strong profanity. "And wouldn't I be hurting you if I ever did something like that?" 

"It didn't hurt the first time."

I can't believe my husband of all people is giving me this advice." 

"It's not like I'm not getting anything out of this. Since you and Natalie have become friends, our sex life has gone through the roof, and I still don't have to do office paperwork or cook." 

"Aren't you afraid I might go too far?"

"What's too far? That you'd leave me to move in with your sister?" 

Gwen was quick to answer. "I can't imagine spending my life with anyone but you."

"There ya go." Tim looked up at the cloudless sky. "Getting hot out here." 

"It is. Do you want to head back?"

"In a bit. Want to cool off with a swim first?"

"I guess we could. Did you bring a suit?"

He smiled and pulled of his shirt. "Don't need one." Boots, pants and underwear soon followed. 

"Tim! What if someone sees you?" 

"Out here? They'll need good binoculars. Besides, who wants to look at a flabby-assed old man with a small penis?" 

"You're not flabby-assed or old, and you don't have a small penis! Now please, get dressed before someone comes!" 

"Not before I cool off. You coming with me?"

"Yes! Just go!"

Tim stood there, looking at her expectantly. "Aren't you going to take off your suit first?"

"What!? No! This thing is already too revealing for public." Gwen stood and moved to the stern, dropping of the edge and into the water. She surfaced to see Tim standing where she had jumped off, still very naked. "C'mon! Hurry! It's nice!"

"I'm not coming in and you're not getting out until you give me your bikini."

"No way! Stop playing, Tim!"

"Your top, please."

The couple stared at each other for a moment, Gwen treading water, looking up at her naked husband, his length beginning to twitch to life. "Grrr...you are in trouble when I get out, mister." She untied the string about her neck and back then tossed the twin triangles up to her waiting husband. "Good enough?"

"Halfway there."

Gwen stopped kicking long enough to remove the bottoms and throw them at Tim with more force than necessary, holding her breath when they nearly sailed past his hand and over the other side of the boat. Task completed, Tim dropped into the water. 

It had been her intent to climb the ladder as soon as he was in and retrieve her things, but his insistence on a hug and a kiss as they floated together delayed her. 

"So, how many penises have you been looking at to know mine isn't small?" 

"What? None!"

"You sure you didn't catch more than a glimpse of the two in the pool the other day?"

"I barely saw them! And anyways, I don't care how big yours is—it's big enough for me!"

"So you're saying I'm not so big after all?" His smile made it clear he was teasing.

"Stop that! I don't know how big you are—I just know I like it, alright?"

Tim's hands cupped her bare bottom. "Wanna find out how big it can get?"

The revving of a nearby outboard, very close, cut short Gwen's reply. With a hint of panic she broke free from her husband's embrace and swam for the ladder, not even getting halfway before a bass boat nosed into the tiny harbor. An older white-haired gentleman was at the wheel, his wife sitting behind him, her wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow across her face. The driver cut the power and the engine fell into a low grumble as the boat lost momentum and stopped, only a few yards separating it from the swimming couple's boat. Tim tread water between the two, seemingly unconcerned about his lack of swimwear while Gwen frantically weighed the pros and cons of swimming out of sight behind their boat or staying where she was, a respectable distance from the elderly couple. In the end she stayed, trying to stay submerged up to her chin. 

They stood and moved to the rail of their boat, looking down at her husband just a few feet away. "'Mornin'! I saw the rod out—how's the fishing?" 

"Kinda slow," Tim called back, still treading water, looking up at the couple. "They weren't really biting this morning. Thought we'd go for a swim instead." Gwen wondered just how much they could see from their vantage point—was the water clear enough to make out her husband's nudity just a few feet below the surface? 

"Makes sense," the man agreed. "One of our favorite places for sunnin' and swimmin'. Well, I think we might go up the shore a little and maybe come back in a bit if we don't find another spot. That is, if you don't mind sharin'."

"Nope, not at all," Tim replied amiably. Gwen was aghast at the thought these people might stay. She was getting a little tired, and the idea that she might have to climb the ladder in her current state of undress was troubling. And a little exciting, she was forced to admit. 

The man returned to the chair behind the wheel, but the woman stayed at the rail, looking down at Tim and smiling. "The fish in this part of the lake love worms," she called out as the engine revved and the craft moved away. "Just be careful the fish don't take a bite out of it." 

Tim smiled and waved while Gwen desperately swam for the ladder, hoisting herself up and onto the deck as the visitors moved around the point of land. She half-crawled forward to grab towels for herself and Tim, frantically pawing through the bag before wrapping one around her and hurrying back to the stern. 

Tim was still several feet from the ladder when she returned, still treading water. Looking down, she discovered just how clear the water was—a smudge of darkness surrounding a streak of pale flesh was obvious between his legs. 

"Hurry up Tim, before they get back," Gwen urged. "I think they know we were naked!"

He laughed. "I think you're right. Probably the only reason they left is because they wanted to give us time to finish what we were doing." 

"Finish? You mean swimming?"

"Well, swimming is one thing boys and girls do together when they're naked. How about I come up there and we can do some other things?"

"Out here? No way! It's bad enough they caught us without our bathing suits on! What if they—or somebody else—catches us doing something worse?" 

"I wouldn't exactly call it worse, and maybe they'd find us inspirational."

"That's not funny! They were old enough to be my parents! We'd be in so much trouble if they caught us doing something like that! We'd get arrested for lewd behavior!"

"Out here? The wardens are out looking for unlicensed fishermen, not married couples enjoying a hot sunny day."

"Just hurry and get in the boat, please? I promise we can do anything you want when we get home."

"Promise?"

"Yes, yes, promise! Now please, let's get out of here before they come back." 

Tim's first strokes towards the boat were enough to convince her he was coming back aboard. She again hurried forward, frantically throwing on underwear, jeans and shirt. The naked man at the stern took his time drying off, deliberately putting on just enough to pass the test of decency before making his way to the cockpit and bringing the engine to life. Gwen could just make out the elderly couple's boat farther up the shoreline as they left the cove. 

Tim's easy smile as he drove told her he was not at all upset about their close call, and Gwen began to take stock of her own feelings about the event. The Lady had certainly made her point clear about the dangers of being caught naked in public; the Slut teased her with the excitement of that same danger. What would the other woman have done if Gwen had given her husband a good look at the naked female body just a few feet away? What would it have been like if she had allowed Tim to make love to her right there, out in the open like that? What if the boat had returned in time to see them coupling, with her husband between her legs, or worse, with his penis in her mouth...her musings made the trip back seem rapid. 

He had the boat trailered in good time, the truck pulling the craft out onto the road and towards home. "A promise is a promise, right?" he asked with a smile as they reached cruising speed.

"Of course. Did all that really get you in the mood? You know they could probably see you weren't wearing anything, right?"

"I'm pretty sure they did, and I'm very sure the guy was trying to check you out to see if you were in the same condition. If they did, they didn't seem too upset." Gwen had to agree that the couple had seem very nice about the whole situation. "As for 'in the mood', seeing you in all your naked glory gets me 'in the mood'. Knowing that guy was trying to get a better look at the meal I get to eat made it all that much better. So, what's on the menu when we get home?"

Gwen blushed at his casual reference to their upcoming lovemaking. "Whatever you would like." 

"Well, I've got the rest of the drive home to think of the possibilities." 

Gwen spent most of the ride thinking of the possibilities, as well. Just what would Tim want her to do? Would he make a request that would be too much for her to fulfill? A promise is a promise, the Slut reminded her. Whatever he wanted, it would be out of the question to say no.

The presence of Alison's car in their driveway made it clear that her questions would have to wait to be answered. The kitchen door was locked, curious, they both thought as Tim turned the key and the couple stepped into the kitchen. Tim checked messages while Gwen made her way to the bedroom with towels for the hamper. The sound of the shower through the open bedroom doorway as she drew near indicated where the car's owner could be found. 

Mother stepped into the bedroom from the hallway as her naked daughter stepped in from the bathroom on the opposite side. Both saw each other at the same time, the looks of shock on both women's faces showing a distinct family resemblance. Alison shrieked and ducked back into the bathroom as Gwen turned and retreated to the hallway. "Mom! You're back! Is Daddy with you? Jason, my parents are home!" she said with a nervous urgency. Well, that would answer why the shower was still running, Gwen thought. Her son was still in it. Her daughter appeared in the hall a moment later, towel now demurely wrapped about her, babbling excitedly as she worked to tuck the edge in near the side of her breast. "I called this morning—I got the day off unexpectedly and I wanted to come up and ride—but I got the machine, and when we got here, the boat was gone, so we figured you went to the lake today and wouldn't be back until tonight and Jason and I rode and he took Tigger. You never go to the lake with Daddy?"

"Your father didn't want to go alone, and yes he's out unhitching the boat. Are, uhh, you and Jason staying for dinner?" 

"Well, if we're not imposing...let me check with him." Gwen was already at work in the kitchen when Alison returned nearly fifteen minutes later, wet skin making her mother wonder if she had gotten back into the shower to get her husband's answer. "If it's not too much trouble, we'd love to stay. Let me go get changed and I'll help you." 

She returned a few moments later, dressed in clothes that had not been out of her closet since she had left home for college. Jason appeared a moment later, wearing the clothes he had ridden in, if Gwen's sense of smell was correct. A casual meal was prepared and consumed with bottles of wine, the two couples sitting for a while on the deck before daughter and son said their goodbyes. It was nearly 7 before Tim and Gwen were again alone in their home. 

"I guess they must have forgotten a change of clothes," she said as they cleared the table. 

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you notice? They both took showers after they went riding, but Alison had to get clean things out of her room, and Jason put the clothes he went riding in back on. I would have thought they'd shower when they got home." 

Tim laughed. "I think they were more concerned about what they smelled like for each other before they went home." 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think they were using the shower for something other than getting clean."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 22



"You mean they were going to...do THAT...if we hadn't shown up? My little girl?"

"Your married daughter," Tim reminded her. "The one that will probably give you your first grandchild, as long as KD doesn't get careless and beat her to it. And I know you know how babies are made...besides, Alison is married to a young man who most likely doesn't like to wait when the mood strikes."

"What makes you say that about him?"

"Because he's a man, and he's young...speaking of moods, is tonight a good night to keep your promise? If you're tired, it can wait." 

"No, I'm fine. Besides," Gwen wrapped her arms around her husband's waist, "a promise is a promise. Did you decide on something?"

"Maybe," he chuckled, "but I don't want to ask for anything that might make you uncomfortable."

"Don't ask, then. Tell me what to do," Gwen said softly. "I'll do whatever it is, I promise."

"Well," Tim began slowly. "Let me ask you a question first. I noticed the other night that you were touching yourself while I was, uhh, on your chest. Do you ever do that when you're alone?"

Gwen buried her head in his neck, too embarrassed to look at him, and nodded. 

"Do you ever finish that way?" Another nod. She steeled herself for the inevitable question about her hidden toys. Instead, strong hands grasped each shoulder and walked her backwards until her rear made contact with the kitchen table. Gwen looked up, eyes wide in astonishment. Tim's face was impassive, unreadable. "Take your clothes off." 

"Here? What if the kids forgot something and come back?" 

"Take your clothes off," he repeated in the same firm yet patient tone that made it obvious this was not a negotiation. Her fingers began to work the buttons of her blouse, leaving it tucked into the waist of her jeans until those slid down her muscled legs. Bra and panties joined shirt and pants laid neatly over the back of nearby chair. Gwen demurely folded her hands in front of her mostly-shaven cleft and briefly looked into the eyes of her husband leaning back against the counter, the smug smile curling his lip giving her a shiver of excitement. Her focus moved on to his arms as they lay folded against his chest. 

"Touch yourself." 

Gwen glanced nervously behind her. "But the curtains are open!"

"Touch yourself. Down there."

She was mentally reluctant but physically anxious to comply. The index finger of her right hand was slowly pushed into her furrow while the left hand attempted to provide cover. Even the tentative advance of the digit down her moist lips gave her a tremor of physical and mental pleasure. 

Touch yourself like you do when I'm not here." 

"But I wouldn't be touching myself out here," she replied in a near-whine. 

"Alright," Tim laughed gently. "Then exactly where would you be touching yourself?"

By that window, in the office, in the pool, up at the top of the hill, the Slut answered. "Well, the bedroom, I guess," she managed. 

"Alright then, show me in there." 

Gwen led the way down the hall, lying on the bed with ankles crossed while Tim undressed, his erection snapping into view as he hurriedly pushed down the underwear that had snagged on it He grabbed her ankles and spread her legs before climbing on the mattress. Her initial thought was that Tim had changed his mind and that she was to be mounted right then and there. To her mild surprise, he took a seat between her outstretched thighs, legs thrown over her own. "Touch yourself." 

Again her right hand reached down with an extended finger, the left hand not providing cover this time. Embarrassment burned in her as she lay wide open, stroke and probe herself in front of Tim. I wouldn't be doing this if he hadn't made me, she lied to the Lady. But he had made it clear what he wanted...her building excitement grew as he began to stroke himself while he watched her finger slide up and down through her slit, circling her nub before retreating to just above her rosebud, then back. Eventually her palm planted itself firmly on her mons and rubbed back and forth while the finger shortened its path and spent more and more time pushing in and out of her opening. 

Tim's hand continued to slide along his length as he watched on in fascination, eyes only occasionally traveling up her twitching stomach to watch her left hand as it began to caress her breasts. Gwen's eyes would open briefly to look at his staff, skin moving loosely along his length beneath his closed fist as it pushed clear liquid up to bubble out of the angry red head.

Gwen's mental and physical pleasure was taking its toll on her self-control. She found herself wishing for a vibrator, maybe two, as her palm pressed down on the nerve endings above and around her clit. Maybe now would be the time to reveal the items in her closet? No, the Lady decided. He might be threatened by them, particularly that big weapon that occupied its own boot. 

Tim's breathing grew ragged and his strokes more forceful as he stared at her hand hard at work just inches from his own. Gwen could feel his legs tense and his breathing catch in mid-inhale, followed by the first jet of white cream. It landed on the back of her hand with a dull wet plop, surprisingly hot against her already-warm skin. The jets pulsed in heartbeat-like intervals as he mashed his fist down against the base of his hose, growing weaker with each, Tim doing his best to push forward and have them land on her and not the bedspread. Gwen stopped her own efforts for a moment to watch the liquid gather on the back of her hand before she could resist no longer and resumed her own urgent stroking even as her husband's seed began to slide off, down onto her waiting sex. She imagined her impending orgasm as more of an approaching storm than the first violent bolt of lightning, and the gathering clouds made the breaking storm made that much more intense. She desperately wanted to bring her legs together, to squeeze down and somehow control the waves radiating out from her sex, but Tim's body was in the way and his sides bore the brunt of her reflexive muscle contractions. She fought the urge to cry out while her hand squeezed the tit beneath.

And then it was over, the space between her legs and the shifting of the bed telling her Tim had gotten up even as she shuddered through the last tremors of her climax. He hurried back into the room as she opened her eyes, washcloth in hand.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. "Got some on the bedspread. Got most of it on you, though. Sorry about that,too." 

"It's alright," she replied weakly as he dabbed clumsily between her open legs, amused at how quickly the man whose bidding she had just done had turned into someone fearing her wrath for a stained duvet. "I'll put it in the wash tonight. We've got a spare." 

Gwen held out her hand for the washcloth. "May I?" Tim quickly handed it over, watching her reaction carefully. Her right hand and crotch were cleaned before she arose to head to the bathroom and finish the job.

"Maybe a swim before bed?" Tim asked when she returned. 

"That would be nice. I'm guessing bathing suits are neither required or wanted?"

"Good guess." 

Gwen made her way down the hall, coming back after a moment with the clothes she had been told to discard earlier. 

"What are you doing?" Tim asked as she began to step into her panties.

"I'm going to make sure the horses are all set before I go up to the pool." 

"And you need to be dressed to do that?"

"Well, yes, of course."

"Why?" 

Gwen stood there, searching for an answer. Five minutes later the horses were mildly surprised to see their humans walk in from the gathering darkness, naked save for their muck boots. 

The sight of Tim throwing hay bales from one part of the barn to the other, taut muscles rippling while penis and testicles swung wildly, planted less than pure thoughts in his wife's head. Gwen made those thoughts take shape in the water a few moments later, and culminated in their bedroom with a comfortable lovemaking session shortly after that.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 23



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

Tim's support had been requested by a local contractor at the planning board meeting that Tuesday evening. Gwen waited until all the trucks were back and being unloaded that afternoon before she kissed him goodbye and headed off on her own. She had told her husband and herself that she really needed to do some clothes shopping, and that part was true; her loosening morals had made her current attire seem dull and she felt an obligation to Tim to give him what she believed he wanted. Some newer, fresher styles were needed—not too slutty, she cautioned herself, just more in keeping with the times and her expanding comfort level.

What she would not admit, what the Slut on her shoulder did not dare even suggest, was that she craved some excitement. Perhaps if the conditions were right, she might be in a position to give someone a peek of her underwear, or perhaps her bare back. All without them knowing she was doing it, of course; it would have to be a believable accident on her part. 

Her destination was not the mall, but a smaller shopping center two towns over; she had no desire to run into anyone she might know, and she wondered if even the distance she had traveled would be enough to prevent that. The long-sleeve shirt that had maintained her modesty in front of the boys back at the shop was discretely removed after she pulled to a stop in the shopping center parking lot; not before a thorough scan of the area for any passerbys, however. Underneath was a tank top she had found in Alison's closet, scandalous in the amount of bare shoulder and arm it showed, even threatening to reveal a bra strap if she were not careful. 

Gwen glanced down as she hurried across the scorching pavement towards the cool interior of her target. The top was a little tighter on her than she had hoped, her breasts distinctly defined under the thin material and pushed into a hint of cleavage beneath the low-scooped top. The Lady was adamant her bra would not be up to the task of preventing her nipples from proclaiming her loose morals should she get a sudden chill, while the Slut hoped the Lady was correct. Gwen took solace in the fact that the trickle of sweat running down between her breasts made that unlikely, at least in the short term. 

The first blast of refrigerated air hit her in the face as the doors slid open. Gwen managed to keep a measured pace to the first racks of clothing before again looking down. The Lady had been right about the bra. She briefly thought about returning to the truck, at least to retrieve the shirt she had just removed, but instead pressed on in the opposite direction, compromising by keeping her chest pointed away from the other shoppers. 

Gwen made a quick pass by the dressing rooms upon reaching women's wear, making note of the fact that waiting area and changing rooms were even more closely situated than Crandall's. That the area was currently without an attendant was not lost on her, either. One less person to put a crimp in her ill-advised plans. 

She hurried back into the racks of clothing, intent on quickly choosing items to try on that she might actually buy and wear—she had to go home with something for her efforts. A look of disappointment almost cracked her deceptively-calm demeanor as another pass by the dressing rooms revealed nobody, male or female, waiting for a friend of significant other. You've been parading around this store with your nipples sticking out of this ridiculous shirt, the Lady scolded. Just try on the slutwear you've got in your hand and go home before you get in real trouble! A part of her wanted to take the direction; perhaps just going into one of the stalls and undressing would be enough to satisfy her need for excitement. The Slut finally talked her into making one more trip into the racks to look for a few more items. If there's still no one here when I get back, Gwen decided, then I'll just go in and see how these look. That would probably be for the best, anyways—this is insane!

The trembling woman continued to carefully select items, taking her time. The chill of the air-conditioning had worn off some time ago, but still the bra failed to contain the eraser points beneath it. Finally Gwen could wait no longer and made her way among the racks back to the open area at the rear of the department. 

Her breath caught at the sight of the tall, thin, man standing with his back to her in the entranceway to the dressing rooms, looking down the stall-lined hallway. Gwen took stock as she brought her gathered items to her chest as a sort of shield and advanced. Neat black hair, t-shirt, Cargo shorts, sneakers with no socks, wedding band on the ring finger of the left hand which was resting high on the doorframe. 

"Umm, excuse me?" 

The man turned and looked down at her, a surprised smile on his face. "Oh, sorry, please, excuse me." His eyes surreptitiously scanned her from top to bottom before he moved to the side

Gwen could hear the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor in what seemed to be the last cubicle on the right. Are you crazy? The Lady screamed. You can't go in there! What if this man decides to trap you and have his way with you! There will be no one here to help you!

That's probably his wife back there, the Slut reasoned. I seriously doubt she's going to let him do that. Besides, there's plenty of people in this store just a scream away. Gwen pressed on, selecting the second booth on the left. 

With shaking hands she "carelessly" let the left half of the barroom-style swinging door stick in a partially open position, a ten-inch gap between it and its partner while she sorted and hung her potential purchases,. The oversight was not attended to, and Gwen glanced right, into the mirror on the wall. The reflection allowed her to see through the gap, the waiting area partially visible behind the thin man still standing in the entrance to the hallway. She allowed herself a long enough look to see his eyes shifting nervously back and forth between the end of the corridor and her door.

Don't look in the mirror, Gwen chided herself as she decided her next steps. Don't let him know you know. With a deep breath, she turned her back to the reflection and bent to remove her sandals. 

The sound of dressing room doors rattling momentarily froze her in place. Not mine, Gwen decided. Further down the hall.

"How's this look, honey?" 

A male voice, the man at the entrance, replied. "Uhh, looks nice."

"Keeper?"

"If you like it." 

Gwen turned slightly and risked another look in the mirror. The man was still there, his attention drawn to the end of the corridor where his wife was modeling. She quickly averted her eyes as the sound of the door closing came up the hall and the man's eyes began to shift back to her cubicle. 

Now what? Did she actually dare to go through with this crazy scheme? It would be so easy to just reach back and pull the door shut, ask him to take a seat, do the proper thing...a nice compromise might be to close the door and strip naked knowing he was just a few feet away. 

No. Not enough. The Slut wanted more. Fingers moved to the zipper of her jeans without need for further instruction, slackening the tension on the brass button only slightly before it too was undone. The denim was slowly pushed down and off her hips, dragging panties along for an inch or two until the friction on them was lessened. Gwen felt some consolation in the possibility of reversing the action and stopping her depraved show until she stepped out of one, then the other leg. Now, with underwear, naked thighs and calves on display, in her mind there was no turning back. 

She bent to pick up her jeans, taking the time to give her audience a long look, the top of the cleft between her globes visible above where her panties had been dragged down. Gwen finally straightened and gave up what little cover the tank-top offered with a quick pull of it over her head. Another decision point had been reached. She could stop there, clad in her bra and panties, and go about the business of trying her items on, or she could go further. The sound of the man's wife coming back out into the corridor gave her time to consider. Gwen risked another look.

"How about this one?"

The man was still in the same spot, a look of surprise and guilt on his face as he looked past her doorway and down the hallway to where his wife stood. 

"Uhh, that one's nice, too." 

Do you like this one, or the first one better?" 

"Uhh, that one?" 

"Alright. Let me try on the others." 

The man turned his attention back to the open door as soon as his wife disappeared from view to find Gwen's naked back on display in the reflection. He nervously looked over his shoulder, suddenly aware his voyeurism might not have gone unnoticed by others. The slightly-open door called him back, to where Gwen had turned sideways to reach for the items hanging on the wall hook there. He was rewarded with a view of the side of firm, pert breasts pointed proudly at the clothes as she selected a shirt, turning her back to the mirror only after she had buttoned it. Two more shirts were tried and removed in the same manner before the man's wife stepped out again. 

"Too short?" 

"Uhh, no, no, I don't think so." 

"I think it might be..." 

He returned his attention to the cubicle just a few feet away even as Gwen was pushing her modest panties down. The separation of her muscular cheeks was clearly visible, her most secret place almost visible in the dusk between her legs. 

Please turn around, the man begged as he held his breath, and he was not disappointed. A beautifully sculpted body of smooth, flowing lines was presented to him, the lips of her shaven sex clearly visible beneath a short tuft of hair. This was too good to be true-she had to be doing this on purpose! The entrancing view was brief as Gwen reached for a skirt—the shortest skirt she had ever considered—and stepped into it. Breasts jiggled and dangled invitingly. 

The door down the corridor opened, followed by the sound of the woman walking purposefully up the hallway. "I like this, but it's a little too small. I'm going to go get another size. My purse in there; can you hang out so nobody walks off with it?" 

Gwen risked another glance to find that her audience had retreated back into the waiting area, out of sight; another look a moment later found him still by the chairs, but now in a position to resume his watching, albeit from a greater distance. She obliged him with more casual switching of clothes, spending as much time as believable in nothing at all. 

"Excuse me?"

Gwen almost shrieked as she reached for something to cover herself up with. The wife had returned and was standing outside her door. She willed herself not to throw up.

"Uhh, yes?"

"Sorry, but your door is a little open. Not sure if you knew or not."

"Oh my goodness," Gwen replied as she quickly snatched it shut. "How embarrassing. Thank you so much." 

"You're welcome." The woman continued on back to her cubicle. 

A surge of adrenaline fueled a frantic scramble to dress, her heart pounding as she zipped her jeans back up and leaned against the wall. The shirt in her truck would come in handy right now, an extra layer to proclaim her modesty upon her exit. She couldn't leave now, not until the man and his wife were gone—it would be too embarrassing to face him! She contented herself with rearranging the items she had tried on, neatly hanging and folding, certain she would not be buying any of these slutty outfits today.

Her breathing and heart rate began to slow only after the woman exited the dressing room without a confrontation. Gwen waited another five minutes before making her own escape, furtively looking left and right, anxious to avoid the couple if they had decided to continue shopping. She surprised herself by willingly tempting disaster and staying long enough to purchase many of the items she had tried on, Gwen's perverted arousal again surging as she presented the decadent garments to the cashier as clear proof that she was slutty enough to wear these! 

Adrenaline-fueled giddiness pulsed through her as she pulled out of the parking lot and on to the road home. She had not felt this way since the first time she had gone horse jumping without her parent's knowledge. The same exultation at being a part of something so risky, so dangerous, so forbidden...I'll bet you wouldn't be so happy if that woman had known that you were showing her husband your naked body, the Lady grumped. What if she had taken exception to it? What then?

He didn't have to look, the Slut countered. 

Gwen knew there was another feeling this time that the horse jumping had not produced, however. She was almost painfully aware of an intense sexual need that would likely produce a memorable orgasm, and the reliving of this event would produce others. Her hand strayed to her denim-covered crotch more than once, the Lady reminding her of the need for two hands on the wheel each time. 

Her headlights swept across the row of vehicles in front of the shop as she made the turn up the driveway. Tim's truck was still absent, but Cliff's was parked at the end of the shop, where it normally sat on workdays. Either he had gone with Tim to the Planning Board meeting, or was still here, working on something...the shop was dark, though. She could just make out three towels hanging over the pool fence like signal flags that some of the boys had been swimming in her absence. Was Cliff still up there? Her heart thudded as she idled the vehicle and checked her phone for a string of text messages that had come in while she was on the way back—no texting and driving for the Nelson family!

taking forever

not sure when Ill be home

dont wait up

love you

No mention as to whether Cliff was with her husband. Gwen bit her lip, then turned off the engine and opened the door. The Lady instructed her to call out in case the pool was still in use and the swimmers not decent; the Slut advised stealth for a greater chance of an accidental encounter. She closed the truck door just enough to turn off the dome light and made her way up the hillock. 

To her disappointment, the pool water was still and the hung towels dry, clear signs nobody had been up here for quite a while. Cliff must be with Tim, she decided.

The sexual heat from her dressing room display had not lessened on her drive home, and the brief hope of accidentally catching the muscular black man in a compromising position had made it flare. The right thing to do, of course, would be to wait until her husband got home and satisfy her lust that way, but there was no telling when he would return and whether he would be in the mood to take her when he did. Her toys might be the thing to take the edge off; but what if the men returned in the middle of her debauched activity? Her palm and fingers, under the covers in a darkened room, seemed her safest bet. But maybe a swim first...

It seemed too much trouble to go all the way down to the house and change into a bathing suit. As long as she was quick about it, she could be in and out and back to the house before they came back, and if they did show up early, she would have time to get dressed before they discovered her. Gwen stepped farther up the pool deck to a point where she was sure no one in the yard would be able to see her, disrobed, and dropped into the water with a small splash. While the water was cool enough to refresh after the heat of the day but not chill, it did nothing for the sexual fire that raged. The nude woman swam to the other side, to where she knew the filter jet lay just beneath the surface. I'll still have time to get out and get dressed if anyone comes, Gwen reasoned as her elbows and forearms were positioned on the edge to allow her mons and clitoris to be pounded by the forceful underwater stream. What was the man who had seen her naked doing now, she wondered? Were he and his wife making love, or was he touching himself, images of Gwen fueling his lust? Her mental wanderings switched to an image of him masturbating right there in the dressing room corridor even as her climax began. 

Gwen grit her teeth and rode the orgasmic waves as her hips involuntarily twitched against her watery tormentor. The intensity became too much to bear and the semi-coherent woman turned her body enough to take her out of the jet's outflow, the swirling water nearby still creating sensations on her sensitive skin. 

Only now did the danger of her morally corrupt actions in the store begin to occupy her thoughts as she climbed the pool stairs on unsteady legs, her lust no longer able to mask the fact that she had again willingly exposed herself to another man. Still, the Lady shook her head in disbelief as Gwen reached for one of the hanging towels and began to dry herself, the idea that the fabric drying her skin may have done the same for a young man's sexual parts just a short time ago. 

Gwen gathered the other towels from the fence and made her way down to the house, deciding to dress and come back up for her clothes after she had deposited her current load in the hamper. Task completed, the Slut pushed her to push the envelope a bit further, to forego a change and just go back up to the pool for the things she left. Gwen accepted, but drew the line at doing barn chores in the nude—to be that far from the house if Tim and Cliff were to come back was just plain crazy. In the end, she had been in bed for an hour before the men returned, the sound of one truck pulling into the yard followed shortly after by another leaving muffled by the hum and woosh of the central air. 

The Slut pointed out how wise her decision to take care of herself earlier had been after Tim quietly entered the bedroom, undressed, climbed into bed and kissed her, then fell asleep. 

Gwen fretted the next two evenings as after-hours emergency calls kept Tim out late, delaying her need to show her husband—and herself—just how much she loved and desired him despite her perverse behavior. Others may get to see her, she subconsciously acknowledged, but only he could have her. 

Natalie was right on time the next morning, again wearing a shirt that struggled to contain the breasts beneath it, again removing even that little cover before leaving the barn. Gwen followed suit shortly after. 

"You ever ride naked?"

Gwen turned in surprise. "Huh? Out here? Oh, no, I never have."

"Ever think about it?"

"I don't think it would be that comfortable," Gwen replied after regaining her composure. "No matter how broken in the leather is on these western saddles, there's so much, I'd think your thighs and your, uhh, privates, would stick once they got sweaty."

Natalie laughed. "Yeah, I suppose that's true." 

"I did an English saddle without any clothes a couple of times." Gwen cursed the fact her words had completely bypassed her modesty filter.

It was Natalie's turn to be surprised. "You did? When?"

Gwen replied slowly, kicking herself for saying anything in the first place. "Well, Miss Ritter made me do that in the indoor riding ring between our apartments. She said it would be a good reminder to keep my bottom off the saddle and in a good riding position."

"Wow! Weren't you scared you'd get caught?"

"I was petrified. I guess she made sure nobody would be around the nights she had me do that." 

"And you didn't wear anything?"

"Just my riding boots and a pair of gloves."

"Sorry Gwen, I'm sure it wasn't the most pleasant experience for you, but that sounds incredibly hot." 

"I guess it wasn't too bad...at least she let me get dressed to put my horse away." 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 23



The two rode in silence for another quarter mile. "Ever hear of anyone getting an orgasm when they were out riding?" 

Gwen laughed in shock. "Good heavens Natalie, what's with you today? I mean, what kind of question is that?" 

"Just a question. I mean, you've got this big ole' hunk of leather between your legs, you got this saddlehorn conveniently placed to apply some extra pressure...you mean to tell me no girl has ever made use of that?" 

"Not that I know of. I'd tell you that if you'd like to be the first to try, go ahead, but I'm afraid you'd fall off and hurt yourself." 

Fair enough. Sorry, but Adam's been way too busy lately, and my toys are starting to get stale. I guess I'm looking for something a little change-of-pace, if you know what I mean."

"Maybe you could go see Liz?" Gwen marveled at how casually she could suggest her sister go have lesbian sex. 

"If I could get away that long..." 

The pair talked of more mundane matters as they climbed to the picnic table, Gwen wondering if she had chosen this path for something other than the view. They sat mostly in silence, their exposed skin soaking in the rays, until the heat became too much. Gwen laughed at the idea anything could have happened as they began the trip down. The barn was reached, horses put out in the paddock, a bottle of wine was produced, and the two now naked women lounged in the pool as a storm began to roll in. 

"We might want to get out before the storm hits," Gwen suggested as the sun disappeared behind a particularly dark cloud.

"Might not be a bad idea. I've got some spare time—need a trim?" 

"Oh—uh, you mean right now?" She could hear the Lady squawking warnings.

"Why not? We're dressed for it."

"Umm, okay, sure, I guess, why not?" 

Natalie gathered up the wine bottle and glasses while Gwen went ahead to gather up the needed materials. 

"Me first," the busty blonde declared as she flopped back on the bed and spread herself wide. "You need the practice anyways, right?" 

"I can do that," Gwen declared with more conviction that she felt, and began to work. Her hands were steadier than the week before, her strokes every bit as careful and measured. 

"I think you're getting' it," Natalie declared from propped-up elbows, taking sips of wine when Gwen withdrew to rinse the blade. 

The last drag of the razor was made and Gwen removed the excess shaving gel with a towel before taking the required swipe of her finger through the very slick slit in front of her, something she was only too happy to do, she was ashamed to admit. The smell of female sexuality was clear, and Gwen wondered whose it was. 

"Oil?"

Gwen looked up to see Natalie smiling down at her. "Oh, yes, of course." She spent more time than necessary rubbing it in to the newly-shaven skin, marveling at the way the tissue underneath moved beneath her touch, only stopping when her fingers stopped gliding freely. 

"Thanks! Your turn."

Gwen replaced her sister on the bed and Natalie returned the favor, expertly removing what little growth had occurred in the last week before her finger made three slow passes between her wet folds. The baby oil was applied and thoroughly worked in, Gwen making every effort not to flex her hips up into her sister-in-law's palm when it covered her mound. Lady and Slut debated vigorously whether it would be proper to announce her need to masturbate. 

"All set," Natalie announced softly. She didn't rise from her spot between Gwen's outstretched thighs. "Listen, I, uhh, I'd like to take care of something before I go to work. Would you mind if I borrowed one of your vibrators? I can go in the bathroom," she added hurriedly.

"Of course you can borrow one!" Gwen cried as she rolled off the bed and towards the closet. "But you don't have to leave! Just use it here." 

"Oh—okay, I just kinda thought you might be freaked out by another woman doing that on your bed."

Gwen hesitated at the closet doorway. She imagined the Lady bound and gagged on one shoulder, the Slut smiling broadly on the other. "It won't bother me at all. I do more than just sleep on that bed, too," she offered as saucily as she could manage. As a matter of fact," she added slowly as she reached into the boot containing the immense rubber penis, "would it be alright with you if I did it too? If you think the bed's big enough?"

Natalie smiled. "It's plenty big enough. Are you sure?"

Gwen couldn't bear to make eye contact as she dumped her toys on the bed. "I'm sure. I'd like to see how you, umm, do it, without a blanket in the way. So I know I'm doing it right." 

The two women stood there, Natalie smiling, Gwen nervously looking around the room. "So, uhh, how do we start?"

"Well, if you're just interested in watching—" Natalie paused to check her sister's reaction for the possibility there might be something more—"then let's make sure you get a good view. Toss me three of those pillows." Gwen did as asked, and Natalie placed them one on top of the other at one end of the bed. "Okay, choose your weapon." Gwen looked up in confusion. "Which vibrator would you like to use?"

"Oh-oh, that. You're my guest, please, you pick." Natalie chuckled at the woman's outstanding sense of manners even in this situation. 

"Alright, I'll take the Rabbit and Mr. Wonderful here, or did you ever name him?" Gwen blushed furiously and shook her head. "Go plug yours in." Natalie hopped on the bed and lay back on the pillows, feet facing the headboard. "Okay, you lay at the other end with your feet facing me." It took Gwen's shaking hand some time to properly fit the plug into the socket before she lay down parallel to her sister, her feet even with the side of the woman's flattened breasts. "Now, move over so you can put your feet on mine." Natalie bent her legs at the knee to make room. "Scooch up and lean against the headboard. Gwen gingerly moved into place, her slouching position allowing her to look between her spread legs and down to Natalie's open sex, the dildo lying on the duvet between her thighs, pointing to her opening like some sort of obscene trail marker. "Alright, do whatever you feel like doing. Watch, join in, it's all good." With that, her eyes closed and a finger began to circle the areolae of her left nipple while the other hand stroked and smoothed her stomach. It didn't stay there long, gradually turning circles until made contact with the tiny patch of fluff. A light scratching of her nails through the sparse thatch turned into longer strokes, her lips giving way to the finger being pushed in to begin stroking the bud at the top of her slit. 

Gwen watched in fascination, her discomfort at being exposed and spread in front of her sister forgotten as the woman continued to stroke herself, a finger occasionally dipping low and pulling moisture back up with it. 

Natalie raised her head and briefly opened her eyes to find her vibrator, then flopped back on the pillow as an experienced thumb found the switch and started it humming. Gwen's finger began to lightly trace along her own lips, while she stared at the scene in front of her. She lost track of time as her sister pushed and ground the rabbit into her clit while her other hand kneaded the abundant flesh of her breasts more firmly. 

Natalie's head abruptly left the pillow while her eyes opened into slits. Gwen stopped the movement of her finger, suddenly conscious that she might have been caught touching herself. Her sister's hand let go of the breast it had been squeezing, red marks evident where the fingers had been, and reached between her legs for the black cudgel lying there. "I've gotta be really wet to take this thing. I hate to use lube," she mumbled as the dark invader was firmly grasped just above the testicles and moved forward to where it just touched her lips. "It's so messy. That's one of the reasons Adam only gets my ass on special occasions. How about you and Tim? You guys use lube?"

Gwen's eyes alternated a couple of times between the giant penis between Natalie's legs and her face before settling on spot near her belly button. "Uh, no, we don't really need it..."

"You take him in the ass without it?" 

"Oh no! I don't...we don't...we've never done that..."

"Sorry, sorry, I should have known that. Can't say you're missing much. Doesn't do much for me, but for some reason guys go nuts over it." Her head flopped back, and the tip of the penis rubbed up and down her slit while the vibrator continued to hum.

The head of the snake began to inch forward, pushing Natalie's lips apart, disappearing to just below the crown before stopping. It withdrew and began again, this time sliding up until the ridge disappeared as well. Again it withdrew, and again it was inserted, this time traveling even deeper. Yet again the dark length slid out, her sister's lips closing like a curtain as it exited, only to part again as it pushed forward until the scrotum bumped against the curve of her butt. "Oh, shit, that feels good," Natalie moaned. "I love it when my pussy feels full." From her limited experience with that monster, Gwen could certainly relate. 

The faux cock continued to make slow, short thrusts for quite some time, Natalie's hips moving forward to meet it. Gwen's finger found its way back to her sex while the other hand toyed with a breast as Natalie climbed to orgasm, her head back on the pillows and eyes closed, lost in her own world. "Oh God, I'm cumming," she finally announced through gritted teeth as she pulled her feet from beneath her sister's to clamp thighs tightly together. "Cumming—" Natalie let out a soft wail and grunted her way through the waves of pleasure that jolted her. Gwen sat back in shock, unsure what to do. Miss Ritter had climaxed in front of her, certainly; But her pleasure was controlled, even as Gwen's face was planted firmly against her sex. Natalie had no qualms about letting it all out. 

She finally stretched her legs out with a sigh, allowing them to lay across Gwen's open thighs, pushing them down and opening her further. "Well, that hit the spot," she said through slitted eyes. "I do love an audience." With cat-like slowness she withdrew her legs and rose to a sitting position. "Your turn. I wanna see you cum."

The still-bound Lady recoiled at the thought of being the center of attention for this lewd display; the Slut exulted in it. Gwen couldn't look her sister in the eyes as she reached for the vibrator lying next to her and switched it on. Her eyes closed altogether as the bulbous head made contact with her clitoris. I'm going to perform just like I did with Miss Ritter, she decided before correcting herself. No, with her I had to for my job. With Natalie, I just really want to. 

The powerful vibrator buzzed angrily as she applied it with force to her mons and clitoris. Gwen didn't dare risk a peek to check her sister's reaction, but the fact she was there watching was enough to push her up the slope to her climax quickly. Her hips had just started the rhythmic twitch of her impending orgasm when she felt a gentle hand on one thigh and something solid against her opening. Instinctively she tilted her hips upward to allow the visitor access, and it slid in without resistance. She grit her teeth and rode the breaking waves while the penis made short trips in and out of her and the hand on her thigh stroked. 

And then it was over, her senses returning to her, the bulk lodged in her sex still, the hand just resting on her skin. Gwen shut the vibrator off and dropped it to her side, too weak to move. There was a call to return to modesty and close her legs, but Natalie still sat between them.

"Wow, you could have gotten away with that in a library!" 

Gwen opened her eyes to see her kneeling sister smiling broadly. "What do you mean?" 

"You were so quiet! It looked like you were trying to hold in a sneeze!" 

"Is that bad?"

"No, no, of course not, I've just never seen anyone have that much control with so much good stuff going on in their body. Have you always been like that?"

"I guess..."

"I'd probably explode if I tried to bottle it up like that. I get so loud sometimes that I worry the kids will hear me." Natalie leaned forward until she was hovering over Gwen in a position that reminded the prone woman of the one her husband assumed when he was preparing to mount her. She planted a light kiss on her startled sister's lips. "Thanks. That was just what I needed. Gotta get to work." And then she was gone, heading up the hallway and towards her car for a change of clothes. 

The two women talked as Natalie dressed, Gwen aghast at how indifferent they both seemed to be to what had just happened. "Hey, why do you keep your toys in the closet like that? It seems like a pain to get them out when you want them," Natalie asked as she pulled on her jogbra. "Just leave 'em in your nightstand."

"Well, I wouldn't want anyone to find them." 

"If someone's looking in your nightstand, then they're snooping, and that's their bad, not yours." 

Natalie left a short time later, no further mention of the bedroom episode made. Gwen thought all afternoon about what had just happened, weighing the enormity of the situation, debating whether she had actually cheated on Tim, but managed to maintain her calm demeanor as the trucks returned. The last employee had left for the weekend and the couple had made their way back to the kitchen before she turned to her husband. 

"Tim, I need to tell you something."



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 24



(This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.)

Chapter 24

Tim could sense his wife's distress as she stood before him, unwilling to meet his eyes. "What's the matter? Is one of the girls in trouble?"

"No, no, nothing like that," she muttered. Despite having thought about it all afternoon, Gwen could not find the appropriate words to start with. "Natalie was over riding this morning, and we were up in the pool together after—"

"Lucky pool," Tim said with a smile. Gwen didn't acknowledge him, instead plowing on. "And she asked if I wanted another trim, you know, down there, and I said yes."

"And?" 

Gwen risked a glance up to see Tim smiling at her expectantly. "And one thing led to another, and we, uhh, touched ourselves in front of each other." She stared at the floor, studying the tile, fearing the worst from her husband.

"Were you okay with that?"

Gwen looked up in shock, wanting to wipe that patient smile off his face. "Was I okay with it?! Are YOU okay with it?! Tim, I was in bed with another woman!" 

"But did you enjoy it?"

Tears welled in her eyes as he gathered her to him. "That's not important. What I did was wrong!" 

"No, I don't think so," he said softly. "If you tried it and didn't like it, don't do it any more. If you liked it...well, the world didn't end, you're still here, and I'm hungry. What's for dinner?"

Gwen pushed her head back and looked up in amazement. "That's it? You're hungry?"

He looked down at her apologetically. "Well, I am..."

His wife's eyes widened as she snapped back into control-and-order mode. "Oh my goodness, I was so worked up about...this...that I completely forgot to make anything! I'll start something right now!" 

His arms held her tightly, preventing her from pulling away. "Nah, don't bother. Let's go out tonight." 

"No, really, I can—"

"Let's go out tonight," he repeated firmly. "Let me just go take a shower first." Gwen stood there in shock as he kissed her forehead and released her, then ambled down the hallway towards the bedroom. She stood there for some time, trying to come to grips with the fact that the most important person in her life had not taken offense to her transgression. The shower was running, her husband's naked body blurred behind the frosted glass of the shower enclosure, when she stepped into the bathroom. Silently she stripped, intent on thanking him for not throwing her out. 

Gwen opened the door and caught a glimpse of Tim's hand flying away from his crotch while he turned his body to present his muscular backside to her. 

He awkwardly angled himself away from the open door. "Oh, uh, almost finished hon, be right out." 

"Would it be all right if I joined you?" 

"Well, uh..."

Gwen stepped behind him, reaching around to run her hand down his chest, across the fur of his lower belly...and on to a very erect penis. Wordlessly she began to stroke it as she pushed her breasts into his back. Tim didn't fight, just standing there, allowing her to play, hoping she wouldn't ask why he had been hard even before her arrival, wondering if she had already guessed. 

Gwen continued to stroke until he could take no more. Tim turned to face her, but only got a quick kiss before she sank to her knees and slid his length between her lips. Her senses were assaulted with a variety of inputs—the hard tile beneath her knees, the splash of hot water against her skin, the clean, slightly salty taste of his penis. Gwen worked him for a short time before he announced his impending orgasm. 

"Mmm-hmm," she acknowledged from between clamped lips. 

"But don't you want me to take care of you first?" 

"Gwen removed his cock long enough to say "you first," then impaled herself on it again. Tim didn't argue, and filled her mouth with his salty spend a moment later. Gwen swallowed, stood and kissed him. 

Tim shut off the water. "Now your turn. Bedroom?" 

"Later. You have to eat first."

"But—"

"Later." 

Tim dressed while his wife brushed her teeth, not wanting to advertise to others what she had just had in her mouth. She dressed after she was satisfied with the results, Tim requesting she wear something from her earlier shopping excursion. Gwen complied with a short-sleeve blouse that hinted at the bra and cleavage underneath, a skirt that showed more thigh than Tim could ever remember being displayed in public, and a pair of bikini panties. He whistled appreciatively. "Man, people are gonna think I married out of my league." 

The couple made their way a few miles down the road to their local pizza parlor, Gwen noticing the looks of surprise from the regulars at the change in attire from this familiar customer. She was thankful for the relative privacy of their high-backed booth. 

Nothing was said of the day's events as they sat eating like they had so many times before, Tim with pizza and beer, Gwen with a salad and a glass of soda. It was dusk when they made their way back out to the truck, Gwen careful not to reveal what might be under her skirt as she climbed up and in. 

Tim brought the engine to life and turned to her. "I want you to do me a favor."

Gwen looked back at him, particularly anxious to do anything for him. "What's that?"

"Gimme your panties." 

"The ones I'm wearing? Right now?" 

"The ones you're wearing. Right now." 

"But we're out in public?"

"We're in my truck. Please?"

She rolled her eyes and intently scanned the parking lot before reaching under her skirt, hooking her thumbs into the lacy waistband and pushing them down while her cheeks burned hot. Picking them up from about her feet, she made sure to hand them to Tim below dashboard level. 

"Thank you very much." Gwen's discomfort when he held them out at eye level to examine them turned to horror when he hung them on the rearview mirror. 

"Tim! You can't leave them there! Somebody will see them!"

"Call it a trophy. I like 'em there. Just for the ride home." He dropped the truck into gear and pulled out while Gwen nervously checked the lights of the oncoming traffic to determine if they were strong enough to make out what was hanging from the mirror. They had only gone a half mile when she felt a calloused hand on her bare thigh, pushing its way up under her skirt. 

"Tim! Watch the road!"

He laughed. "I am watching the road. My hand knows the way on its own." 

"What's gotten into you tonight?" Gwen protested, but did nothing to stop the advance of his hand, instead spreading her legs a bit more in anxious welcome. Not for the first time that evening, she dared believe that Tim had been pleased rather than upset with her indiscretion .

His rough middle finger was not delicate in its approach, finding its way to the top of her furrow and sliding down until it reversed direction and pushed up into her opening, the palm pressing down on her clitoris. Satisfied, the hand withdrew and Tim tasted the tip of his finger. "I'm guessing when you said later, you meant as soon as we get home?"

"If we get home. Both hands on the wheel, please." 

The turn up into the driveway was made a few moments later, Gwen making sure to remove her underwear from their place of honor before exiting the vehicle. "Spoilsport," Tim called out good naturedly and led the way into the house. 

The before-bed routine that had been followed for as long as either could remember was not ignored, and it was another half hour before the couple stood together in the bedroom. 

"So, umm, I was wondering," Tim stammered, "and you can tell me it's none of my business, but..."

Gwen turned to look at him, surprised at how quickly the confident, almost cocky man in the truck had been replaced by this bashful one. "But?"

"But, uhh, I'd uhh, kinda like to know how you, you know, did it...this afternoon?"

The Lady quickly arose indignantly, firm in her belief that such things should never be discussed and that yes, it was none of his business, but Gwen knew that she had to be truthful with him, and felt a strange desire to share some of the less scandalous details. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yeah, I do, if you're OK to talk about it."

Gwen sighed. "Well, I laid down with my head at that end of the bed—"she nodded to where the pillows were again neatly stacked on top of the duvet, "—and she laid down with her head at the other end—" she gestured to where a spare blanket lay folded, "—and we , umm, you know..." The whole truth and nothing but the truth, the Slut firmly reminded her. With another sigh, Gwen moved to the closet. 

Tim watched curiously while his wife appeared to rummage around the closet until she found what she was looking for. Gwen turned and dropped what she had retrieved on the bed. 

A neck massager, an oddly-shaped plastic cylinder, and a massive lifelike penis were what he saw, and Tim knew right away what they were meant for. 

"We used these," Gwen volunteered.

Tim looked up, his surprise and confusion evident. "At the same time?" 

"No, no, I used that—" she pointed to the Magic Wand, "and she used the other two." Gwen felt a pang of remorse—the woman she had shared this wonderfully perverted experience with had been reduced to 'she'.

"How long have you had these? Where'd you get 'em?" Tim's look and tone made it obvious he was surprised and curious, but not upset. 

"Not long. Sh—Natalie, Natalie gave them to me a little while back."

"Huh. Do you use them much?"

"Once in a while...but I'd much rather be with you," she hurriedly added as she glanced sideways at the dildo. "You're alright if I have these, right? They'll just be for when you're busy, or not home—"

"I'm fine with them. That log there can't fix barn doors, so I'm sure you'll still have some use for me. And you can use them any time you want. How about right now? I'd like to see how you used that one." Tim looked down at the Wand. "Never knew they had electric ones." 

"It makes that one more powerful, I guess." 

"So, let's see."

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

The excitement that had been building since Tim's shower overrode the shame and embarrassment of her revelations. Ooh, let's put on a show! The Slut squealed. "Well, alright..."

Tim was naked before Gwen, his erection making his interest in the unfolding scene obvious as his wife removed her skirt and plugged in the vibrator. 

"So, your head was up on the pillows?" 

"On some of them. Natalie had the rest."

"Show me where you were." Gwen climbed onto the bed and lay back with her legs closed while Tim began to lightly fist his length. "Then what did you do?"

"I, uh, started touching myself." The nude woman decided that it was not important for him to know that she had watched Natalie for inspiration first.

"Show me." 

Gwen opened herself to her husband and began to stroke, if not in the exact same manner as earlier that afternoon, at least close enough, while her hand found her breast. Quick glances to the end of the bed made it clear that Tim was enjoying the show very much, his eyes glued on her moving fingers. 

The couple continued this way for some time, both attempting to control the arrival of their impending orgasms, until Gwen reached for the vibrator and thumbed it on. Tim watched in fascination as she firmly pressed the bulbous head to the top of her slit, making the wand rumble defiantly. Gwen was close, she knew it; one more thing was needed to make the performance complete. 

Tim was momentarily surprised to see her eyes open and her head come off the pillow. Old fears that he had been caught peeping briefly surged through him before Gwen found the dildo, grasped it halfway down the shaft, and dragged it to her opening. 

"I thought Natalie used that one?"

"She did. I used it when she was done with it." Close enough to the truth, Gwen decided. No need for him to know how it had gotten inside of her. She clumsily inserted the impossibly large reproduction, pushing it against her opening until the head slid past her lips. Only after her body had a firm grip on the massive tool did she move her hand down the base and slowly slide the rest of it in.

"Holy Cow, Gwen, it looks like that thing is splitting you in two!"

"It feels good..." the vibrator continued to grumble while she moved the length in and out in short strokes, unwilling to let the fattest part escape from between her lips. Her orgasm broke quickly, and without her sister's body between her thighs, Gwen instinctively pulled her legs together and curled into a fetal position, the dildo still firmly lodged in her and the Wand buzzing against her clitoris. 

She came to her senses unwillingly, aware that Tim had joined her on the bed. He kneeled at her feet, his body still erect enough so that he might continue to reach every part of his cock and balls. Gwen switched off the vibrator and rolled back to remove the fake penis inside her and let Tim replace it with his very real one. 

He was quick to mount her even as she dropped the black cudgel next to the Wand. "Wow," he muttered. "I would have thought you would have been more, uh, stretched out after that thing." 

"It's not that much bigger than yours," she offered generously, "and besides, yours is better anyways, because it's attached to a handsome man." 

His did not take her gently, Gwen's body recoiling with each thrust, until with one last grunt and a push aided by feet anchored in the bedding, Tim deposited his seed deep inside her. Sleep came soon after her toys had been again hidden in the closet. 

Tim was awake first the next morning, holding his still-sleeping wife tight while his cock twitched impatiently. She did arise soon after, the feel of her husband's strong arms overshadowing the thing nestled between her cheeks. She happily gave him what he wanted with a slow, comfortable lovemaking session before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. Tim joined her shortly after, pleased to see her bare bottom peeking out from beneath the t-shirt she wore. 

"Andrew's gonna be here in a couple of hours," Tim said as he sat at the table drinking coffee. "I'm going to reorganize the parts storage in the workshop."

"He volunteered to come in on a Saturday?" The Lady strongly suggested Gwen get dressed now, in case he arrived early, but she was ignored. 

"He drew the short straw. He didn't seem to mind too much, though." 

Tim was in the workshop a half-hour before Andrew's well-worn pickup rattled to a stop in its customary parking spot. Despite the Lady's strident urgings to get dressed or at least hide in the bedroom, Gwen remained in just a t-shirt as she watched from the kitchen window while the young man left his truck and entered the shop. 

A strange excitement swept over her. Almost without thinking, the shirt was pulled over her head, and she spent the next ten minutes nude in the kitchen, repeating the steps she had taken an hour before to clean up after breakfast. The unlocked door behind her kept Gwen in a state of nearly panicked excitement, ready to dash for the hallway should the sounds of boots on the deck be heard. 

A ride might be in order, she decided when the danger of her exposure could no longer be ignored. Moments later she was dressed in a pair of jeans put away three winters ago as too form-fitting for a proper lady to wear. Polished black knee-high riding boots accentuated the lower half of her body, while a loose grey t-shirt only slightly softened the lines of her torso. The omission of a bra allowed her breasts to bobble freely under that same loose fabric. 

The Lady was torn between urging Gwen across the yard towards the barn before the men in the shop took notice of her and telling her to move slowly so her bouncing breasts did not attract attention. The Slut guessed at how far up the trail she would get before the shirt was removed altogether. 

Dart was saddled in a leisurely manner, Gwen reveling in the personal scandal her outfit was creating. She already had a foot in the stirrup when Gwen remembered that she had not told Tim where she was going. With a devious smile, she made her way down to the shop. 

The bay doors were open to help the overhead fans create some sort of circulation in the early morning heat. Both men were at the far back of the cavernous space, pulling boxes off a utility shelf, their shirts already stained dark with sweat. 

"Tim?" Her husband looked up, a smile quickly appearing. "I'm taking Dart up the hill for a ride. I'll be back in a couple of hours, I guess. Be sure to stay hydrated—there are drinks in the fridge upstairs in the office, and the fridge in the kitchen is full as well." 

"Thanks Mrs. Nelson, we—" Andrew looked up and hesitated, unsure if the figure contrasted against the bright sunlight behind her was really the woman who handed him his paycheck every two weeks. "We, uhh, already got some from upstairs." The young apprentice quickly shifted his gaze back to the box in front of him and began to rearrange with purpose.

"Good! See you in a bit. Be sure to take a break." 

Gwen brazenly removed her shirt as soon as the first line of trees screened horse and rider from the buildings below. Dart could sense his human was distracted, allowing him more freedom to set his own direction and pace than was normal, even being allowing him to come to a complete stop in a particularly shady area. He did notice the female sat astride him in a different way this morning, her hips further up the saddle, hard against the horn. He took the twitch of her hips against this protrusion as his cue to move on.

Gwen was intoxicated from the effects of her daring displays that morning, the memories of what had happened morphing into what could have happened, or might still happen. The Lady was there as well, pointedly reminding her that if she had to think about these things at all, then it must be kept in mind that they were to be sick, lurid fantasies only. 

She returned to the here and now to realize she and Dart had somehow made their way back down the hill and were approaching the end of the last line of trees. Hurriedly she pulled the horse to a halt and dismounted to put her shirt back on, aghast that she had almost ridden into the yard topless! 

Grooming the horse and returning him to his paddock quickly stained her own shirt dark with streaks of sweat and water. She knew she should return to the house and change into something drier and less revealing, perhaps even add a bra, but the Slut convinced her that was too much effort. She returned to the shop, telling herself she would just peek around the corner of the open doorway to check on their progress.

Gwen could hear them working as she approached, but their position deep in the parts area made it impossible for her to stock to her plan. She walked in until she could finally see them.

"I'm back. Anybody need anything?"

Tim looked up, again smiling and looking her up and down before answering. "Naw, almost done. Good ride? You look hot?"

"Yes, it was, and yes, I did get a little warm up there. You two look in worse shape than I do, though. How about a swim and some lunch?" Her gaze moved to Andrew, who averted his. 

"How about it, Andrew?" Tim asked from his spot on the ladder.

"No, thanks, I, uhh, didn't bring anything to swim in." He blushed furiously and refused to make eye contact with either of the Nelsons. 

"Well, what did you wear when you went swimming before?" Gwen asked with feigned innocence. 

"I, uhh, had some shorts in the truck," the young apprentice lied evasively. "Don't have 'em today." 

"I can go get you a pair of Tim's, if you like." 

"No, no, I really should get going," he stammered. "Thank you though."

"Any time. Can I feed you before you go?"




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 24



"No, thank you, that's very nice, but I really should head home after this."

"Suit yourself. Feel free to change your mind. Tim, I'm going to go get changed. I'll meet you up at the pool. Finish up and stop working this poor boy to death!"

"He's getting paid," Tim laughed. "But I suppose a swim would be good. Be up in a few minutes." 

Gwen turned to leave. "Good bye, Mrs. Nelson." She looked back over her shoulder to see Andrew smiling weakly, the heat and his embarrassment turning his face scarlet red. 

"Good bye, Andrew. If I don't see you in a bit, I'll see you Monday." 

Gwen made her way back to the house, again stripping off her shirt as she closed the kitchen door behind her. Her senses returned as she savored the cool of the air-conditioning, the chill only making her nipples stand even more erect. Her modest one-piece suit and robe were selected, just in case Andrew did change his mind. His truck was still there as she carried a pitcher of sweet tea and three glasses up the hillock to the pool. Gwen put everything down and jumped over the side into the refreshing water, aware how restrictive this suit now felt after a summer of skinnydipping. 

The sound of Andrew's truck starting, then crunching across the gravel told her had had declined her offer. Tim's head bobbed up the stairs a few moments later. 

"No Andrew?" Gwen asked as she climbed on to the pool deck to pour her husband a glass of iced tea. 

"Nope, no Andrew. I think you embarrassed the hell out of him when you asked about his choice of swimwear. That, and I think the outfit you wore riding had him thinking impure thoughts. Hell, it had me thinking impure thoughts. I mean, those jeans, the boots...and if I didn't know better, I'd have sworn you weren't wearing a bra!" 

It was now Gwen's turned to blush furiously. "Do you think it was too slutty for him to see? I mean, he's young, and he works for us..."

Naw," Tim laughed. "Let him look. If he gets over being so goddamned shy, maybe he'll find someone who can wear that half as well as you." 

She finished pouring and handed him the glass. "Well, since he's gone..." Gwen began to wriggle out of the wet suit, pushing it down over her hips until it lay about her ankles. Tim took a swig, set down the drink, and stripped as well.

The couple entered the water together, lazy paddling quickly discarded for a passionate embrace and kiss. She listened for the sound of a vehicle turning into their yard even while her hands instinctively found his manhood and began to tease it into full bloom. Strong hands eventually found her thighs and wrapped them around his hips, the length between his legs nestled between her lips. 

"Shall we go inside?" she murmured as she broke the kiss. 

"Nope. Nice day out here." Tim began to walk towards the steps, Gwen wrapped about his waist. She dropped her legs to stand and gave him a confused look as he reached the first tread. 

Tim smiled confidently. "Go bend over the table."

"Out here?"

"Why not? Beautiful day, the umbrella gives us some shade..."

"But outside? Where people might see us?" 

"Like who?"

Gwen searched for an answer, trying to explain that anyone could drive up at any moment.

"Go bend over the table," Tim repeated again, smile gone, more authority in his voice this time. She did as she was told, hurrying across the hot concrete warming the soles of her feet. Tim followed after her, an upturned ass presented to him as Gwen propped her elbows on the Plexiglass surface of the table and stared ahead. His foot was inserted between her ankles, firmly pushing to the right, then the left, until he had her spread to his satisfaction. Gwen could feel the head of his penis search briefly for her opening, and then, with a gentle push, he was in her. 

Tim's hand made its way around her hip and down to the point of the vee of pubic hair Natalie had left. His middle finger found its way to her clitoris and began to circle while his hips began thrusting. The way Tim had used her body first thing in the morning, her attire and her ride had taken their toll, and she began to climax after a few moments of her husband's attention. Tim's hand retreated as Gwen's legs momentarily lost their will to stand in the explosion of pleasure, and only his hold on her hips and his cock in her pussy kept her from falling. 

He waited patiently until her strength and senses had returned, then began his assault again, the force of hips meeting ass making her breasts jiggle and wobble beneath her. Her husband's hands continued to grip her hips tighter and tighter and pull her to him, trying to get every last bit of his cock inside of her. 

Gwen expected him to fill her any second now, and was surprised when his length was pulled from her before sliding up and forward between the globes of her bum. The feel of his manhood as it slid across her rosebud and up to the small of her back shocked her as the tingle from the bundle of nerves about her anus reached her brain. She struggled to help him find his way back into her channel, sure that Tim had drawn back a bit too far in his thrusting and would be looking for the correct path to allow him his release, but strong hands held her firmly in place as she felt the first warm spurt land just below her shoulder blades. Tim's hips continued to jerk in short thrusts as he released himself on her. After his ejaculation had been reduced to dribbles, he stepped back and inserted himself one more time, then stepped away to allow her to stand. 

Gwen looked about nervously, fearful they might have been observed and heard a splash behind her as Tim dropped back into the pool. He beckoned to her, and she joined him. Tim smiled and gathered her in his arms again.

"Good idea, that swim."



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 25



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

The next couple of weeks were somewhat of a return to normalcy for Gwen. The Friday rides had been postponed twice due to conflicting schedules and the imminent arrival of KD as she made her way back to school. Gwen was somewhat relieved that she didn't have to face her sister after what had taken place the last time they had ridden together. The family dinner planned for that Sunday was a concern, but she had to admit that she missed the emotional comfort their friendship provided. IT was harder to admit that she missed the perverse thrill as well.

Gwen's anniversary gift to Tim arrived from Memories By McCall early that week. She had fretted over whether she should go and pick it up in person rather than having it shipped; the thought it might get lost or worse yet, misdelivered, gave her a restless night once she knew it was on the way. 

Gwen also worried about the timing of the delivery. She knew the package service stopped by around the time the trucks usually departed; what if Tim noticed the box among the others they usually received? How would she explain the delivery to him? 

Despite her worries, the van pulled crunched to a stop in front of the shop fifteen minutes after the last truck had pulled out that Tuesday morning, the smiling young driver carrying the day's deliveries to where the nervous woman standing in the doorway. If you only knew what was in this, Gwen thought as she signed for the collection of boxes. 

Back upstairs, Gwen carefully inspected the package for any identifying marks as to what was enclosed, or any sign it might have been opened. Satisfied, she grabbed a utility knife and began the process of carefully opening the box, slitting the packing tape to unfold an end. She removed a bound red leather album much like Natalie's, a small manila envelope, and a handwritten note. She started with the small piece of paper. 

Gwen,

If I do say so myself, these are beautiful! Your husband is a very lucky man, and I was very fortunate to work with such a natural! I hope you both enjoy these as much as I did taking them. Please give me the first opportunity to create any such future work. Also, please consider my request to have your album posted on the private section of my website. I am very proud of my work on this, and not ashamed to tell you I did very little to make it that way. 

Regards

Barry 

Gwen smiled to herself. There was no way anyone other than Tim would ever see these! Still, the Slut suggested, wouldn't it be exciting if someone did? 

Exciting for all the wrong reasons, the Lady retorted. 

Gwen opened the envelope and emptied it on to her desk. A flash drive slipped out, a digital version of the album lying on the table, she assumed. Her first thought was to shred the note and erase the drive, much like a criminal might dispose of evidence of their wrongdoing. Instead, she carefully slipped both back into the envelope. That left the album. 

Anxiety washed over her. She had seen the proofs, of course, but this was different. This was real, physical proof she had performed this lewd act. Her initial thought was to leave it closed and wrap it for giving, but the need to see the evidence of her perversion overcame her fear of knowing. With a deep breath, she sat and turned the cover. 

The photos were the ones they had selected that day in Barry's office, but even richer in color and more deftly focused than what she had remembered. They progressed in much the same order they had been taken, Gwen blushing self-consciously with each new part of her body exposed for the camera. 

Forty-five minutes passed before she looked up with a start and began disposing of the evidence. The album was wrapped and hidden in an unused tack box in the barn, identifying labels removed from the cardboard and shredded, the envelope put in the locked office cabinet. 

I've got time, she decided as she locked the drawer. The photos had aroused in her a need for release, a need that her hectic schedule had helped keep in control up to this point. A little relaxation might be allowed, she decided, and made her way back to the house. Gwen caught herself grumbling about how much effort it was to dive into the back of her closet as she retrieved her tools of pleasure .How quickly she had gone from not wanting them in the house to wanting them closer to hand. Perhaps it would be alright if she left them in her nightstand... after KD had l gone back to school, she decided. Her clothing was carefully laid aside where it might quickly be reached in an emergency, and she laid back on the bed, toys by her side. 

Gwen gently caressed her skin with light touches while her mind began to build fantasies. A vision of Tim stroking himself while intently studying the pages of his gift was replaced with one of Barry doing the same after she reached for her smaller vibrator and thumbed the switch. The fantasy grew more elaborate and lurid as her excitement grew. The box containing the album had accidentally opened during shipment and her delivery man was using it for his enjoyment. This, in turn, evolved into several of his co-workers standing about it in as semi-circle, each stroking himself as they gazed upon her exposed flesh while the buzzing tip of the rabbit made its way into her. Big cocks and little, fat cocks and skinny, they all stood proudly at attention because of her display. The climb to orgasm was quick. 

It was only after she had come back from her trip into a different plane and had made her way back to the office that she realized something was missing. 

There was no guilt. 

The feeling of dread and loathing she had experienced those few times she had tried to touch herself in an inappropriate manner all these years before was gone, replaced by a physical and mental feeling of acceptance, if not content. Probably because by comparison, touching yourself is positively healthy after some of the other perverted things you've been doing, the Lady grumbled. Even this reminder could not dampen her feelings of well-being, however. 

The next two days were a blur, Gwen feeling as though there were still a million things to do even as KD pulled into the yard Friday morning. All that was temporarily forgotten as mother and daughter hugged and began to catch up on the summer's happenings. The pair talked for quite some time until Alison joined them and they rode together up the ridge and back. Tim made a point to be home early, and the entire family enjoyed dinner together before KD excused herself and headed into town to see her friends and classmates who happened to be home as well. Alison excused herself shortly afterwards to go meet her husband.

Two large duffle bags, visible through her daughter's partially open doorway, caught Gwen's eye as she walked down the hall. Laundry, she thought, and from the look of it, a lot of it. Opening one of the bags quickly confirmed her belief as the smell of kitchen grease, sweat, and suntan lotion wafted out, and soon it was dragged to the laundry room, followed shortly by the other. 

I'm surprised she has anything left to wear, Gwen mused as she began to sort the seemingly random collection of shorts, shirts and underwear. The panties were of particular interest to her, the same styles that had made her worry about her daughter's descent into sluttiness last fall she now imagined on herself. A quick examination of the assorted bras left her wondering how so little fabric could support so much flesh.

Gwen reached for at-shirt lying at the bottom of the bag and felt something solid beneath. Clutching both, she removed garment and object, carefully reaching under the shirt to separate them. Her hand helped to form a perverted guess as to what it was even before the fabric was moved. A rubbery pink penis with an absurd red bow tied about the shaft revealed itself. It was not nearly as long or thick as the one that resided in her closet, and apparently not as well made either, the shaft curving up and to the right while a ragged curtain of plastic fringed the base. Still, the mushroom head and testicles were every bit as lifelike, right down to the slit at the tip. Another look into the bag revealed a pack of condoms, a plastic cylinder she knew to be a vibrator, and a small green bullet-shaped item. Gwen stood there, unsure what to do next. Confront her daughter with her find? Repack the bag and put it back in her room as though nothing had happened? The first choice would be most unfair, she decided, and the second would be counterproductive. Gwen unpacked the second bag while she decided, fearful of what she might find there. She was somewhat relieved to find nothing worse than several pieces of lingerie that were obviously more for show than utility, and apparently had been worn. Gwen gently laid the rubber phallus back in the bag along with the other items and carried it back to her daughter's room, then hand washed the lingerie and hung it to dry in a spot where KD's father was not likely to find it. 

Gwen waited up until her daughter returned late that evening, just as she had every night since she and Tim had allowed the girls to go out after dark. KD filled her mother in on the details of her graduating class's life until she announced her utter exhaustion and headed off to bed. Gwen closed up the house and followed behind shortly after. 

Tim happily caught up with his daughter over breakfast while her mother did her best to maintain a calm and positive disposition. KD, for her part, seemed quieter than normal, and Gwen caught her glancing nervously in her direction several times.

Gwen began to clear the table. "A ride this morning?" She called over her shoulder as dishes made their way to the sink. "Tigger really missed you."

KD hesitated. "Uhh, sure, OK, why not."

The horses were halfway up the hill before the younger rider spoke. "You really didn't have to do my wash. I was going to do it today." 

"Why waste your last few days before school doing wash? You've got a busy schedule, and I was happy to do it."

There was silence for another moment. "I'm uhh, also sorry you found my things." 

Gwen studied the trail ahead, doing her best to remain upbeat. "Nothing to be sorry for. You're an adult. I'm glad you're taking, um, precautions. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. I should have asked before I went through your bags."

KD let out a chuckle "Actually, I was afraid you were the embarrassed one. I was worried you might have had a stroke when you found them. or worse, you'd lock me in my room. I guess Ali was right."

Gwen turned to look at her daughter. "Right about what?"

"You've changed. I thought I noticed something different when you and Daddy visited me at the resort, but I thought it might have been the alcohol, too—I had never seen you get tipsy before." Gwen blushed and looked down at the root-studded trail below her. "But when I was telling Ali about that weekend, she said that you were just like that more often now." 

"And what exactly is 'like that'?"

"You know, more relaxed...no offense Mom, but you always seemed like a younger version of Grandmother around me and Ali. Always worried about what others would think. I really thought the things you found in my bag would have set you off like there was no tomorrow."

"I see. Well, I'm not sure if your sister told you, but Alison found some things in my room very much like what you have in your bag. Talk about embarrassing. So, I couldn't very well get mad at you for something I do—I mean, have. "

KD turned to her in surprise. "No, she didn't tell me, and I would never have guessed. You mean the condoms? Or do you have a..." the young rider lowered her voice and leaned towards the horse next to hers, "vibrator?" 

Gwen smiled. "The latter. I got them from the same person you got your first ones from. At least, I hope they were your first ones." 

"No way! You know about that? Aunt Natalie gave you some, too?"

"Uh-huh. So I guess you can blame her for my fall from proper upstanding mother." 

KD laughed. "I don't know about falling, but I would like to welcome you to where us mere mortals dwell. I hope the stay is long and pleasant."

The pair rode on for some time, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Why did that one have a ribbon tied around it?"

KD whirled on her mother, face turning crimson. "Oh! Uh that...well, that was a gift from one of my roommates. You know, a joke-kind of thing."

"Oh." Gwen smiled and kept her eyes on the trail. "I didn't know they made them in, umm, smaller sizes. Not that I have any experience on the whole size thing," she felt the need to add. 

KD could not believe she was having this conversation with the woman who had once pitched a fit when she wanted to wear a tank-top to school. "Well, actually, it's a copy of a real-life one. They've got this kit where you make a casting from the real thing, then fill up the mold with rubber-type stuff to get the finished product."

"I would have never have imagined! Was your friend the model?" 

"No, no, Mom, the friend who gave it to me is a she, and the model was just somebody she knew. Like I said, just a silly gag gift." KD was not about to let on that the real-life version of the gift phallus resided between the legs of her roommate's boyfriend, and that it was she who had regaled KD with vivid descriptions of the wonderful places his curved cock could tickle. The young woman was anxious to find out if the shape had the same effect on her. 

"Well, that's quite the gift!" The tone in her mother's voice made it clear to her daughter that she was perhaps a bit flustered, but not upset. "And since, you and Ali talked...I just want you to know that what I told her goes for you, too. I know I wasn't really the best person for you to talk about..." the older woman lowered her voice, "sex, but I really want to try and make up for that now. If you have anything you want to talk about, I'm here."

"Thanks, and you can talk to me, too," Wow, does that sound stupid, KD chided herself. What on earth would her mother ever have to say about that subject? 

Tim, Gwen, and KD enjoyed a swim together that evening before their daughter went back down into town to visit with friends. The fact that her mother had worn a bikini not much less revealing than her own was not lost on the young woman. 

Her father sat down to a pay-per-view movie shortly after his daughter left, one that Gwen knew in addition to the comic-book violence it contained also promised its fair share of gratuitous nudity and sex. She normally allowed her husband this indulgence under the "boys will be boys" rule, retiring to the bedroom to read in peace. Tonight, however, she chose to read in the living room while Tim watched, intent on being up when her daughter arrived home. 

Gwen caught herself looking up during several of the "romantic" scenes, wondering why the women were displayed in full-frontal nudity, but not the men. She decided she'd like to see the men in all their glory and that their penises should be as incredibly large as the women's breasts were, assuring herself that it was only fair. 

The movie had ended and Tim was watching the weather when KD returned. Her duty to see her daughter safely home completed, Gwen made her way to bed, Tim right behind her. 

Her husband's hand romaed under her t-shirt as he kissed her goodnight. "You, uh, thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" he grumbled as his lips found her neck. 

"I'm thinking that KD may still be awake, and we better not," A tingle ran through her—it would be nice to make love, she thought, but her daughter's presence two rooms away unnerved her. 

"After two nights of partying? I'll bet she's been out since her head hit the pillow." Fingers began to slide under the waistband of the modest panties she wore. 

Gwen was torn. It was obvious what Tim wanted, and while she wanted it too, old habits of ensuring the girls were either asleep or out of the house before any hanky-panky took place held her back. Perhaps a compromise...

"Turn off the light and take off your shorts," she commanded. Tim smiled and complied, flipping back the covers and sliding his underwear off to proudly display his growing erection before he found the switch on the lamp and the room descended into darkness. Even so, the half-moon outside and the digital face of the alarm clock inside combined to cast enough light for her to focus on her target. 

Gwen gently fondled her husband's testicles as she bent at the waist and took him into her mouth. Her tongue bathed his sensitive head before her lips slid further down the length, stray pubic curls tickling her nose before she slowly pulled back up. Hand and tongue worked together to add the last bit of hardness to his length, his seeping pre-cum mixing with her saliva to wet down the bed of hair his member arose from. 

Tim gently worked his way up the bed every time the mouth on his cock retreated until he was slumped against the headboard. His hand had been working its way down the back of Gwen's "granny panties" at the same time, a finger now sliding over her rosebud on its way to the moist cleft beyond. "Bring your butt up closer to me, honey," he murmured. "Let me return the favor."

Gwen shook her head and removed her lips from his length. "Uh-uh, not tonight. I'm fine, let me take care of you." 

"You sure?"

His only answer was her mouth again descending on him while her small yet strong hand gripped and began to stroke. You better believe I'll return the favor later, he thought as he gently pet her back.

Gwen was all about speed tonight; the sooner she could get him to finish, the sooner they would remain undisturbed and undiscovered. She had learned a lot about her husband's buttons this summer; her efforts began to get results and his hips began to twitch rhythmically. She prepared to receive his orgasm. 

She almost bit down on the mass between her teeth at the first knock on their door, the soft tapping sounding like the booming of a sledge to the panicked woman. She hurriedly pulled away from the object of her attention, believing she heard an audible pop as the suction broke. Pulling the covers up to her neck as she hurriedly worked to cover the naked torso beside her. 

"Daddy? You up?" The soft voice of their daughter, a sudden reminder of all those years she was growing up, came from the other side of the door.

"I am honey. What do you need?"

The door opened slowly, just enough for KD to stick her head in. The scene struck her as strange, her bare-chested father sitting up against the headboard in the semi-darkness, her mother's face barely visible beneath all the blankets piled up about her, a pair of boxers on the floor . Mom never allowed laundry to hit the floor..."I just thought of something and I didn't want to forget. Can you check my oil before I leave? I don't remember checking it this summer..."

"I already did, and you needed two quarts," he said softly. "Keep it up and you'll need a new engine. But yes, I'll check it again before you leave." 

"Thanks, Daddy! Good night!"

"G'night."

The door again closed softly, and Tim smiled over at his cowering wife before flipping the blankets back to reveal an undiminished erection. 

Gwen did her best to again cover him. "Tim! What if she comes back?"

"She'll knock," he said reasonably. Despite her efforts, his cock remained free to twitch impatiently in the gloom. "Could you, uhh, resume our regularly scheduled event? I'm pretty close..." 

His wife thought about it for a moment before deciding it was her duty to return to the task at hand. He was right; he had been close. 





A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 25



Dinner at her parents' house the next day was the same stressful affair it always was, Gwen doing her best to meet her mother's expectations of propriety while feeling the unspoken disapproval over her daughters' lack of it. Gwen contented herself with wearing her sluttiest underwear beneath her prim clothing, wondering what her mother would think if she knew about the thong her only daughter was wearing. 

The presence of Natalie had also given her reason to worry. It would be the first time they had seen each other since that afternoon encounter; would they be able to face each other? 

Gwen was relieved to discover that for her sister, it seemed to be a non-issue. The pair happily talked and joked, KD glad to see her mother smiling and laughing with somebody other than her father for once. 

The pair found themselves alone in the kitchen shortly before dinner was served. "So, I heard you got Tim's present in the mail," she growled softly as the two worked by the sink. "Did you give it to him yet?"

Gwen looked around nervously, afraid someone might overhear. "How did you know?"

"Barry told me. I was talking to him, something I need to talk to you about, by the way, and he asked if you had gotten it yet. So, did you give it to him yet?"

"No, we usually go out to dinner the weekend of our anniversary. I'll give it to him after that."

Natalie smiled and nudged her sister in the ribs. "I knew you hadn't given it to him yet—you're not walking funny."

"You are terrible! And what do you need to talk to me about?"

"Later—I promise. Also, Adam and I got you an anniversary gift. Rather than just go out to dinner next weekend, think you two can get some alone time together, maybe an overnight?"

"Overnight? I'd have to find somebody to take care of the horses, and we'd need to make sure the business is covered—"

"Ali's already volunteered to stay at the house, and I'm sure Tim can get one of the other guys to cover just fine." Natalie looked about conspiratorially for effect. "How would you like to give Tim his present at the place you made it?" 

"You mean the Inn?"

"Uh-huh. We reserved you the same room and everything."

Gwen felt something akin to panic, but she wasn't sure why. "Oh, thank you Natalie, you guys really shouldn't have, but it would seem weird, I mean him looking at that there, and he might not like it, and the owners know me and probably why we're there, and—"

"Gwen, stop. Breathe. It will be great. Adam already told Tim—said we've been there and loved it, which is true- and he's fine with going. He's going to love it, and you will, too."

"I don't know, Natalie..."

A finger was pressed to her lips. "No arguments." Her sister picked up a bowl of potatoes and returned to the dining room. Dinner was served and the family gathering played out as it had for many years. 

KD was home early that evening, preferring to get a good night's sleep before her drive the next morning. Her parents retired early as well, content to read in bed together. Tim was asleep well before his wife, Gwen numbly reading the same page again and again as her mind wrestled with the implications of Natalie and Adam's gift to them. 

Did the gift—right down to the same room- mean Adam knew what had happened there? Doesn't matter, the Slut replied. It's nothing his own wife hadn't done. Would the owners of the Inn tell Tim why Gwen had been there without his knowledge? If you gave him the album before they said anything, it wouldn't matter. Would they know why they were there now? Of course. That's what strange beds are for. Despite the Slut's reasonable responses, the Lady was able to conjure a vague sense of panic over the idea of mixing her slutty side with her married life. 

With a sigh, Gwen arose and threw on her robe. A small cup of tea might help me sleep, she reasoned as she quietly stepped into the hall. The distracted woman had just turned the corner into the kitchen when the motion sensor light on the deck blazed to life. The screen door opened slowly and Gwen thought to turn and retreat, to get Tim to confront the intruder. Instead, she stayed rooted to the spot as the wooden door opened. The light spilled in from outside and KD, wrapped in a towel too small for her body, stepped into the kitchen. In one hand she carried a second smaller towel, the unmistakable shaft and head of her gift penis sticking out from it, her fist curled around the fabric-bundled testicles.

Gwen quickly took two steps backward and decided that any further retreat was risky. Instead, she coughed to warn of her presence, waited a second, and stepped into the kitchen. Her daughter stood there, wide-eyed and panic-stricken as she struggled with one hand to hold up her cover while the other hand fumbled to wrap the towel around what she held. 

"Oh-Mom—you scared me! What are you doing up?" 

"I couldn't sleep and was going to make a cup of tea. And you?"

Me what?" KD's eyes were still large, her voice jumpy.

"What are you doing up?"

"Oh, I, uh, couldn't sleep either, so I thought maybe a swim might help."

"I do that sometimes, too."

"Oh—well, I hope you can get to sleep. I'm going to go dry off and get to bed. Busy day tomorrow!" her daughter smiled weakly and hurried past as she did her best to shield the contents of the towel from her mother.

"Honey, wait." The young woman stopped in her tracks, afraid to turn and watch as Gwen pushed through the screen door. She returned a moment later holding KD's dry bikini top and bottom. "You left this on the railing to dry after we got back from dinner. You wouldn't want to forget it." 

Her daughter's face burned crimson against the white towel as her hand quickly grasped the triangles of fabric and returned to hold the top of her covering in place. Busted! "Uhh, thanks."

Gwen knew she should just let her daughter go, but a long-dormant mischievous spark flared. "Honey? You're fine. Just between us, bathing suits have become...increasingly optional around here this summer. Just wear whatever you're comfortable in. Of course, I would err on the side of caution around your father. I don't think he'd be mad, but maybe a little embarrassed., although he's been known to do without his as well." 

KD blushed even more deeply, unable to believe she was having this conversation with her ultra-conservative mother. "Oh. OK, good to know, thanks, Mom. G'night!"

Gwen smiled. "Good night."

She stood there for several moments after KD's bedroom door softly clicked shut. The tea can wait, the older woman decided, and she quietly made her way out of the house and up the hill. Her daughter's wet footprints were still visible on the concrete, going from the pool stairs to where her towels had been laid on the table, and then to the gate. 

The deck was also darkened above the filter jet. It was Gwen's turn to blush as she realized her daughter knew the secret to the current below the surface; but how had the dildo come into play? Was it possible to hang on to the side and use both at the same time? 

The house would be hers again tomorrow, plenty of time to determine if it could be done. A swim tempted her, the thought of just stripping down and sliding into the cool water alluring, but she resisted. Something about KD's recent use made it wrong, at least until she had left. Gwen returned to the house as quietly as she had left. Her dreams returned that night, vivid and incredibly lewd.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 26



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

KD was on her way back to school well before her father's trucks were ready to depart that Monday morning. Gwen feared her daughter's subdued manner as she said her goodbyes was due to the secrets both exposed and shared during the weekend, and she worried that her newfound openness might left the young woman with a less than favorable view of her mother. Still, Gwen tried to fight down the pride and excitement she felt in being so open, and for not overreacting to the discoveries of her daughter's sexual side. 

The Lady was not silent on the matter, warning that her own deviation from the path of propriety would only amplify the effect on her daughters. The realization that mother and daughters shared an interest in certain weaknesses of the flesh made Gwen wonder if she had somehow passed her long-suppressed depravity on to the next generation. The Slut's suggestion that Natalie's sexual mentoring of all three Nelson women had probably been more instrumental than anything Gwen might have contributed did little to silence the Lady. 

The accusations of perversion also reminded Gwen she now had the house to herself again. The Slut had been busy ever since she had serviced Tim two nights ago, suggesting various activities for the couple to act out once they were alone while the Lady did her best to suppress the scenarios that involved anything outside of husband and wife in a darkened bedroom. 

One of the Slut's ideas had involved giving the package delivery driver an accidental peek, something Gwen needed no help from the Lady rejecting, although her imagination conjured lurid possibilities as the van rumbled up the driveway. Instead, she greeted him in the same professional manner she always had, waiting until the sound of his truck accelerating up the road grew faint before making her way back to the house. 

Gwen stopped inside the kitchen door and stripped down to bare skin, clothes carefully laid over a nearby chair. Satisfied, she looked out the window, then stepped back on to the deck. 

The morning was overcast and the temperatures cooler than normal this time of year, her nipples almost painfully erect from the chill and the excitement. She knew the pool water was still warm; a quick trip up the hillock to her right would confirm that.  

It would also take her far away from her clothes, towel or any other form of cover should anyone choose that time to visit. The thought made her hesitate, and she spent some time absentmindedly poking through the flower beds around the house, itself a daring proposition given the distance she would have to cover to get to safety. The urge not to get caught fought with the thrill of it happening. 

Gwen finally decided that delaying to act upon the dare she had issued herself was not going to make things any safer and hurried up the steps to the pool gate. She knew that if anyone were to pull into the yard now, her only hope would be to stay out of sight up here and hope they went away. 

The swim was more of a completion of her self-challenge than necessity or desire. Although the thought of the rushing pool filter jet nearby briefly made her contemplate its use, the fact that KD had almost certainly done the same thing just hours before made the act seem more perverted than normal. Besides, she had other things waiting in her bedroom. She quickly exited the water and made her way back to the house, the chill air against her wet skin and the fear of being caught hastening her steps. 

Her pace slowed after she had made it to her bedroom and dried off. There was no question in her mind what was next. Gwen took two steps towards the closet, towards her toys, and stopped. 

No, she decided. Not now, maybe later. The need to demonstrate that she still had her legendary self-control suddenly filled her. I'll run down to town first and pick up some things, and then maybe when I get back...

Do it now AND do it later, the Slut urged, while the Lady applauded her denial of pleasure. The nude woman returned to the kitchen to collect her clothes and wandered back to the bedroom. 

What she had removed before her swim was laid on the bed as Gwen decided to select a new outfit for the trip. A pair of loose-legged shorts and a thin blouse, both purchases from her recent shopping excursion two towns over—the image of the man watching her as she pretended to try them on flashed through her mind—were selected. Panties and a bra were given much consideration but rejected, although a tank top was substituted as a compromise. Gwen slipped on a pair of sandals and made her way out of the house and into her truck. 

She made all of her planned stops, ever alert for signs that the other shoppers or employees might be looking at her bare legs and arms with disapproval. Her breasts bounced under her top, but thankfully her remained hidden, and she swore she could feel the air conditioning making its way up to her bare sex. The pace slowed at the mall as she took her time in the lingerie section of Brazil, a store she had not been in since that day Natalie had selected her bikinis. Gwen took delight in discretely showing her interest in the racy selections public before finally settling on the purchase of some underwear that rivaled KD's in their brevity. The young salesperson eyed her as she approached, trying to make up her mind whether the customer in front of her was one of those women who thought she was still twenty-something. No, she decided, she might be older, but she'll look damn good in these. 

Long enough, Gwen declared as she took the bag from the smiling clerk. She had proven she could resist the perverted urges.

Gwen climbed into the cab of her truck and started the engine. Three spaces up, a slightly-overweight middle-aged man in a shirt and tie was pulling something out of the trunk of his sedan. She looked down at him from her perch, knowing that she had plenty of time to put the vehicle into gear and pull away before he crossed in front of her. Instead, she watched the balding man remove a bag and close the trunk lid. Her hand pushed up the loose leg of her shorts until she made contact with the bare skin at the junction of her thigh. Gwen was mortified to discover just how wet she was as a single finger slid up her cleft and began to circle her clit.

The man hurried past, unaware of what was happening in the truck. The thrill of touching herself with this stranger so near kept Gwen's finger busy until he was well out of sight. It was with great reluctance that she withdrew her hand and looked about for any other approaching passers-by, taking a moment to steady her breathing and let the air conditioning cool the flush she had developed. With no other shoppers to offer another performance to, Gwen dropped the truck into gear and pulled out. Her speed was watched diligently as she made her way home—she was sure any police officer who stopped her would guess by sight and smell what had been happening in the truck.

The truck braked to a stop in front of the Nelson Plumbing workshop. Gwen reminded herself not to hurry as she climbed the stairs to her office, attempting to make up for her earlier lapse in self-control. There were several messages waiting; one in particular warned her of the return of one of the apprentices for extra parts. The news agitated the aroused woman; there was no way she could risk any "alone time" until after Andrew had returned and headed out again. In fact, it was probably best if he didn't see her in her current dress, either. Gwen grumbled as she made her way back to the house for more traditional wear, adding a bra this time to her jeans and long-sleeve blouse but still omitting panties as a small form of rebellion. 

Gwen had the part waiting for the young apprentice as he pulled up twenty minutes later. His knowing smile made her feel as though she were being mentally undressed, and she irrationally regretted not having worn underwear. With a wave and that same cocky grin, he was gone again a moment later. The Lady was taken aback by his impudence, wondering if Tim should be told of their employee's surreptitious disrespect, while the Slut bemoaned the fact that Gwen could probably have made herself come and still been out here in time to meet the muscular young apprentice. 

Well, I've got plenty of time now, she mused. Between the vibrators and that impossibly large faux penis hiding in the closet, I probably won't last five minutes. She thought back to just how little effort it would have taken with just her finger in the mall parking lot. She probably wouldn't have even needed her toys...

Why even go back to the house? The thought of doing something so depraved right here in the office excited her, right where her employees had seen her so many times, and Gwen began to unbutton her blouse. It only took a moment to shed everything. Now what? She eyed the couch, but sat back down at her desk instead. Pushing the chair back, she hefted her feet on to the surface in front of her, slumped and gently reclined until she was looking at a spot far up the wall. Legs spread of their own accord as her hand made its way between them and the movie reel that held her fantasies came to life. 

The bald man did not pass by the truck this time, instead reversing direction and coming back to the driver side door. Gwen could hear his voice, muffled by the metal and glass between them. "I know what you're doing in there." She wasn't upset or embarrassed; instead she smiled to tell him he had guessed correctly and scooted over to the passenger side, her back against the opposite side, facing the driver's door he was even now opening. Gwen quickly peeled off her shorts and opened her legs. The man stared intently at the show while unzipping his fly and pulling out his already erect member. "You got a pretty little cunt, lady," he grunted as his hand grasped his shaft. 

"You can look, but you can't touch," she reminded him, although she knew she would be powerless to stop him if he wanted more. The man did not answer, his eyes glued to her sex where a finger was dancing on her clit while her other hand was pushing a digit into her opening. "You have a very nice cock."

"You'd like it even more if it was buried inside ya," he muttered, but continued to stroke, not attempting to press his offer on her. Gwen was not ready to go that far, even in her fantasies. "You're gonna make me come," he warned, and true to his word, a pearl-white fountain erupted from the tip of his length. The viscous stream did not land on the driver's seat as even in fantasy Gwen's orderly mind knew that would stain the fabric and be a pain to get out. Instead the jet arced impossibly high before landing on the hot pavement with an improbably audible plop and sizzle. Her world went gray as Gwen's orgasm rushed over her, and she briefly worried that she might pass out and be found here. Her body traded periods of rigidity with small convulsions, ears dimly aware of the squeak of the chair as her body twitched, until at last she was spent. She lay slumped there for some time, finger idly drawing lines from her sex to her breast, until reluctantly she rose and began to dress. The sound of a truck pulling into the driveway came to her over the drone of the air conditioner as she slipped on her sandals. 

See? This is what happens when you become perverted, the Lady scolded. You get caught! What will Tim think? 

You didn't get caught, the Slut laughed. You're dressed, and you've taken the edge off. What could be better? Except maybe getting caught? 

Gwen ignored them both and moved to the stairs to see who had arrived. She was halfway down when Andrew came back in, the cocky grin replaced with a sheepish smile. 

"Sorry, Mrs. Nelson, but I got halfway back to the job when I remembered that I forgot the bolts for the pump. Walt would have killed me if I came back without them." 

"I suspect he would have," Gwen replied with a soft smile. "Do you need help finding them?"

"Oh no, I know exactly where they are. Are you alright? You look kinda, well, like hot and sweaty."

"I was moving some boxes, and the air conditioning isn't working so well," she lied. "You sure you can find what you need?"

The cocky grin returned. "Oh, yes ma'am. You, uhh, need help with the boxes?" 

Gwen turned and headed back up the stairs, the Slut urging her to put on a show for the young man while the Lady dismissed the idea as dangerous. "I'm fine, Andrew, thanks. You better get back to the jobsite before Walt does something to you that will require extra paperwork. I'll see you later." 

"Yes ma'am." The young apprentice stood there, focused on her swaying bottom as she retreated to the second floor. Getting naked would cool you off, he thought as she disappeared. I'd kill to see what's under those jeans. Tim would probably do the killing, but it might be worth it to put my cock in her just one time. The thought of her naked and in incredibly lewd positions occupied him all the way back to town. 

The week passed quickly. Gwen waited until all was quiet in the office before she went back to the house that Friday morning. Natalie would be arriving soon to ride before work; the heat had returned and clothing more appropriate for a sweaty trail ride were necessary. Anything other than jeans and riding boots was out of the question, but the denim shirt in her hand seemed excessive. A little too warm...It wasn't a few months ago, the Lady sneered, but it was not enough to stop Gwen from selecting a white tank-top instead. Not that you'll be wearing it five minutes up the hill, the Slut snickered, and Gwen knew that to be true. Her erect nipples rubbed against the thin fabric. 

And while I'm here, I might as well just move these to my nightstand, she told herself as she reached into the closet and removed her toys. They were there to stay; it would be easier to have them close to hand rather than having to mess up the closet getting to them. 

Change of clothing and nightstand rearrangement completed, Gwen headed out to the barn to begin the process of saddling Dart and Tigger. She momentarily froze halfway across the yard as the sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway reached her—a quick glance down confirmed her top revealed more than she would want—and then relaxed as Natalie came into view. The women excitedly hugged, her sister's hand rubbing Gwen's nearly naked back in an extremely friendly way, before the two women got the horses ready for their ride. As was usually the case, Natalie removed her shirt even while she was putting the finishing touches on the cinch of Tigger's saddle; her sister-in-law did the same before mounting Dart. 

"So, are you ready for tomorrow night?" Natalie asked excitedly before they had even reached the tree line. 

"I suppose." 

"That doesn't sound very promising. What's the matter?"

"I don't know...what if he doesn't like the pictures? What if gets mad that another man saw me like that? And even Tim likes them, and he wants to...get intimate.. I'm sure the owners will guess what we did in our room! I won't be able to face them at breakfast!"

The blonde woman laughed. "You've come so far, but you still have a ways to go...he'll love the pictures, I'd bet my life on it. And it's not like you fucked Barry, you just showed him some tits and ass, maybe a little pussy." Gwen blushed at the coarse reminders and stared at the dirt path passing below her. "As for Norman and Steven, honey, that's what happens at Inns. People get all romantic, sheets get messed up...as long as you're not hanging from the fixtures, they're going to do everything they can to make the magic happen. It goes a long way to getting repeat customers. You won't be the first girl to get laid in that bed. I was there before you, four times—or was it five? Hell, if you're one of the first hundred then it's probably a new mattress!" 

"I guess...I've just always tried to keep that kind of thing discrete." 

"Don't go to breakfast naked and you'll be fine. Speaking of which, what are you wearing for the unveiling?"

"I hadn't really thought about it..."

"Tim might get a kick out of it if you wear the outfit you did the first part of the shoot in. Bring his work shirt to recreate the second half after you've taken the edge off of him." 

"But how will I change into it between dinner and...you know?"

Natalie rolled her eyes theatrically. "Wear it under your dress, silly! Just change in the bathroom or something, tell him it's a surprise. Honestly, do I need to chaperone this thing so you two kids can properly get it on?" 

The idea of her sister in attendance, directing their lovemaking, struck Gwen as funny. The spell broken, she giggled and shook her head. "No, we've done it before, remember? Two kids?" 

"Exactly my point! Only this time, you're not making babies, you're making the couple next door jealous!"

Gwen giggled again despite the reminder their private time might not be so private. She had an image of her legs wrapped around Tim's waist, his body pressing her deep into that luxurious bed while he had is way with her. Maybe it could happen that way...

"So what were you talking to Barry about?"

Natalie whirled, her confident smile gone. "Oh, uhh, well, yeah, that. See, Barry asked me to pose for him again a while back, and I finally made up my mind and told him I would." 

"Really? What kind of photos?" Gwen both guessed and hoped at the answer.

"Well...see, Barry does commission work, too. Sometimes people ask him for specific ...kinds of pictures...and he does his best to fulfill their request. Like this time, someone commissioned him for...an erotic piece." 

Natalie was relieved to see Gwen's reaction was one of interest rather than disgust. "Oh my! So you're going to let a stranger see you...that way? Just how...erotic?"

"From what he told me, it sounds like very. Tastefully done, of course," Natalie added hurriedly. 

I can't believe you said yes!" Gwen lowered her voice. "Does Adam know?" 

"He does," her sister answered just as quietly. "He's OK with it."

"Well, I think you're very brave to be doing this!"

Natalie's smile returned. "Brave, or stupid?"

"Brave. It sounds very exciting. When is it going to happen?"

"Sometime soon, according to Barry. Not quite sure yet."

Gwen smiled and looked up to the trail to where the picnic table clearing was just barely visible. "Will I be able to see them after?"

"Actually, I have a favor I'd like to ask you," her sister replied as the two riders halted their horses and dismounted to stretch. "I want you to be there. I think I'll need the support."

"I can't imagine you'd ever need support," Gwen laughed, "especially from me. And besides, wouldn't you rather have Liz there? I mean, she said she's let him take pictures of her before, right? She'd be more used to this kind of thing?" 

Natalie looked down at the ground. "Liz is, uhhh, already going to be there. We're both going to be posing—together." 

"Oh...oh."

"Their eyes finally met. "You're one of the strongest people I know. Please say you'll be there?"

Gwen could see the plea was from the heart. Still, this was a most unusual request..."if you want me to be there, of course I'll go with you." 

A look of relief swept over the blond, and the pair embraced, Gwen conscious of their bare breasts pressed into each other's flesh. "Thank you so much. I owe you." 

"How about letting me stay at your house if Tim throw me out after I give him my pictures?"

Natalie broke the embrace. "Not a chance. Tim won't let you leave after he sees them." She looked up at the darkening sky. "We may want to get back down to the house before it opens up."




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 26



Despite a pace that had both women's chests bouncing wildly as they made their way down the path, they were five minutes too late to avoid getting soaked. Gwen eyed the driveway and yard nervously as they approached, not willing to stop and put on her wet shirt, but also not wanting to be seen topless. 

"No swim today," Natalie observed after they had made the safety of the barn and began grooming their mounts. "Not that we'd get any wetter. I'm not sure the rain takes out the smell of wet horse, though. Mind if I shower here before work?"

"Of course not," Gwen replied as she hefted a saddle on to a nearby sawhorse. "I was going to take one too." 

The horses were taken care of and Natalie detoured to her SUV to grab a change of clothes as her sister hustled across the yard and into the kitchen. "You can go first," Gwen called out over her shoulder on the way to the laundry room. "You'll want to get out of those jeans." 

"You should, too. We can share the shower, if you want. There's no reason one of us should have to wait." 

Gwen returned to the kitchen to find Natalie waiting, an innocent smile on her sister's face. "Uhh, I can wait...it might be a little tight in there."

"There's plenty of room! Between the size and all the nozzles and gadgets Tim built into that thing, I would have sworn you guys were having orgies in there if I didn't know conservative you were! More than enough room for the two of us—c'mon!" 

Gwen blushed at both her mention of orgies and her seemingly long-lost propriety and followed the topless woman down the hall. A short time later two naked bodies were under the warm spray coming from multiple jets. She was unsure where this was heading, or where she hoped it was heading—Natalie seemed more concerned with rinsing off and warming up and less concerned with the nude woman next to her. Instead, she closed her eyes and did her best to enjoy the warm water against her skin. 

"Want me to wash your hair for you?" Gwen opened her eyes to find Natalie holding the bottle of shampoo.

"Uh, OK, yeah, I guess..."

"Turn around." She faced the faucet handles, the command bringing back memories of how Miss Ritter would roughly scrub her, as if trying to remove all traces of filth from a trail-ridden horse, before allowing her in the bedroom. The hands that began to lather and massage the shampoo into her scalp were different, though. They were gentle, sensuous; occasionally scratching gently over every part of her head, other times just fingertips languidly rubbing in concentric circles. Gwen was in heaven and found her knees turning to rubber. Although it lasted quite a long time, all too soon it was over.

"OK, rinse." Gwen shuffled forward until the spray that had been drumming on her breasts was now streaming through her hair. Natalie helped here as well, hands and fingers pushing the water through the strands, the soap leaving sudsy white trails down her sister's body. 

"A lot easier than washing patients' hair," Natalie remarked as she returned to her own cleaning. 

Gwen half-turned and looked back at her. "Want me to do yours?"

"I thought you'd never ask! Yes, please!" she turned and handed the shampoo over her shoulder. Gwen squeezed some of the liquid into the palm of her hand and reached up to begin. While for some reason Miss Ritter had never included her own haircare in her student's routine, Gwen had certainly washed her daughter's hair enough when they were younger. But this was different. That had been all business and efficiency; this was...just different. She wanted to return the pleasure she had been given. 

"Oh, yes," Natalie groaned. "I looooove a good shampoo and scalp massage. So sensual." Her hand disappeared in front of her body and flattened against her crotch, shamelessly touching herself. 

Gwen continued to work her fingers through the long blond hair while her sister pleasured herself, wondering if she would actually give herself an orgasm right where she stood. 

"Whew!" Natalie exclaimed and ducked forward under the spray, apparently short of the release Gwen had thought she was working up to. "You give good scalp!" The rest of the shower passed without incident as the women concentrated on themselves before turning off the water and stepping out of the stall. 

"I shoulda asked while we were in there, but would you like a trim?" Natalie asked as she toweled her hair. "You've got a big night coming up tomorrow. You'll want to look your best, unless Tim likes the natural look." 

Gwen glanced down self-consciously. "Yes, I guess I should. Would you like one, too? It looks like you've been too busy to do yours recently."

Natalie rubbed her hand through the thickening thatch and gave an embarrassed laugh. "No, thanks, letting it grow out some...the guy who commissioned the stuff I'm modeling for likes Barry's subjects to have more of a natural look. It's one of the reasons we're going to wait a bit to do it—Liz and I have to grow it out a little." 

"Oh—OK. I've never seen you like that," Gwen babbled as she gathered up the things needed for her own grooming. 

"It's not going to be a jungle down there," Natalie said as the two women moved to the bedroom, "just a little more like a...well-kept lawn." Gwen surprised herself at how nonchalantly she lay on the bed and spread as her sister sorted things out and began to work. 

It only took a few moments, Gwen no longer surprised by the finger slowly pushing up her cleft, but startled when a pair of lips lightly made contact with the skin below the remaining patch of hair. As quickly as they touched, they were gone. 

"All better," Natalie declared brightly as she rose. "The big bad man looking for your kitty will have no problem finding it. Would you mind if I rub one out real quick?"

A confused look crossed Gwen's face. "Excuse me?" 

Natalie smiled weakly. "Mind if I cum before work? I'll admit I'm a little nervous about posing for Barry, but to be honest, thinking about it gets me hot and bothered. And your shampoo didn't help." 

Gwen quickly rolled off the bed. "Sorry, sorry, of course," she blurted. "Would you like some privacy?" 

Natalie laughed. "Did I need it last time? I'm going to get intimate on camera with another woman for a strange man. Privacy is not one of my greatest concerns. No, you're welcome to stay, or join in...unless last time freaked you out," she hurriedly added.

"No, no, I certainly understand what you mean about the shampoo—it had the same effect on me, too. Did you want to use my, uhh, things?"

"We can share," Natalie said with knowing smile. 

Gwen turned and opened her nightstand drawer. "Like before?" she said while removing her toys. 

She turned to find her sister already arranging the pillows. "Sure, why not." Soon the two women were arranged feet to feet, both spread wide to the other's gaze. 

"Mind if I use this first?" Natalie asked as she picked up the dildo, while her finger casually stroked her puffy lips. 

"No, please do," Gwen volunteered, ever the polite hostess, her eyes locked in on the scene before her. 

"Thanks. We need to get you some more stuff so we don't have to share if we're gonna keep doing this," She suggested casually, as if she were talking about more wineglasses. The blonde settled back, closed her eyes, and began to work both vibrator and massive black cudgel. 

Her climb to orgasm was quick, one hand pushing the vibrator into her furrow while the other retreated to stroke stomach and breasts after planting the rubber cock inside of her. Gwen rose and kneeled between the twitching woman's legs, greedily taking in the scene of utter depravity. The twitching of Natalie's hips threatened to dislodge the mass of rubber forcing her lips apart. Gwen gingerly extended a finger and pushed on the flat base of the pole to imbed it more securely in her sister. 

"Fuck me with it," the masturbating woman grunted through clamped jaws.

Gwen hesitated, unsure. Her finger was still extended holding the dildo in place. Natalie's hands were otherwise occupied, one on the rabbit, one on a breast.

"Fuck me with that thing!" 

She gently grasped the base with her fingertips and guided it further into her sister, stopping just short of the junction of her thigh.

"Harder!" The urgency in the plea startled Gwen, and she quickly withdrew it until the bulbous head was beginning to slip past the engorged lips. Again she drove it forward, this time with more force, her hand stopping close enough to feel the heat of her sister's sex. Gwen grew bolder with each stroke as she tried to imitate Tim's thrusts when he was between her legs.

Natalie's hand flew from her breast to capture the one holding the dildo and pushed both hard against her mound and lips. Gwen did not attempt to free herself, just holding still as the body her fingers were pressed against squirmed. Natalie shivered and shuddered and cried out for some time before going limp. 

"Whooo, that was good!" Her hand left Gwen's to lazily scratch her mons. The woman between her legs retreated, intent on giving her some space. "Your turn. I wanna see you get off."

Gwen smiled and reclined, self-conscious over her display while her excitement at showing off fueled her arousal. She spread her legs and reached for her magic wand. The bulbous head had barely made contact with her clitoris when she felt the mattress shift as a body moved, and then the wetness of Natalie's sex was on her knee. She opened her eyes to see the woman astride her leg, dildo in hand. With a smile, she directed it forward until it touched Gwen's opening. "Gentle, then hard?" 

Again Gwen looked confused. "Sorry?"

"Do you like to be fucked gently, then harder as you get closer to coming? Or do you like to let it just lie there and fill you up? Or would you rather not use it today?" 

Gwen resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the menu choices. "Uh, gentle, then hard?" 

"Okey-dokey!" Her sister didn't move, looking down at her expectantly. Gwen slowly lowered the vibrator to her slit, looking up at Natalie as if for approval. In response, she felt the head of the faux penis begin to penetrate her. 

She was acutely aware of the soft, hot wetness on her knee, rocking back in forth in time as the massive tool slid in and out of her. "C'mon honey, show me how you come. Show me how you're gonna come for Tim tomorrow night after he gets his gift and fucks you silly. Are you gonna do it for him more than once? You know he's gonna for you every time he thinks of those pictures."

Her focus was the image of she and her husband naked and entwined, his penis mimicking the one in her right now, testicles bumping up against her bum before withdrawing for another stroke. The vibrator's delightful tingling on her clit and mound only amplified the erotic thoughts. 

With long-practiced control she managed to contain her urge to cry out as Natalie slammed the dildo into her sex with enough force to make her breasts jiggle as her orgasm began. She was only dimly aware of her sister grinding herself into her knee, then stiffening and moaning softly. 

Gwen opened her eyes to see the same sleepy, contented look on her sister's face as she imagined on herself. Natalie fell over on her side and next to the recovering woman, leaving the giant cudgel where she had buried it. "You're so cute when you come," she laughed softly. "Like you're trying not to sneeze." 

"I could use a nap," she continued without waiting for a response, "but I really do have to get to work." She dressed while her sister, still nude, cleaned up the evidence of their afternoon together.

Natalie was mildly surprised that a still-naked Gwen saw her off from the deck. "Promise me you'll tell me every nasty little detail of your night at the inn?" 

"If you insist. And you'll tell me when you find out more about your modeling?"

"You'll be one the first to know." The pair hugged as a long roll of thunder announced the imminent return of the rain. It also hid the approach of Ali's car, Gwen spotting the hood as it cleared the trees down by the workshop.

"Gotta go!" she squeaked and retreated into the kitchen as Natalie went down to greet her niece. 

Alison could swear she saw a bare back and ass disappear into the house as she made the turn into the clearing. No, it couldn't have been. She rolled to a stop next to the scrubs-clad woman. "Hi Aunt Natalie! Don't tell me you two went riding in this?"

"We almost made it all the way without getting wet," she laughed. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, I know Mom likes to make sure I know where everything is when we watch the place. I just thought I'd drop in and get my marching orders. Hope I'm not interrupting anything?" 

"Nope, "We just spent some time together after we dried off. And now I'm heading to work." 

Alison looked up at her. "Hey Aunt Natalie, I wanted to say thanks—Mom really needed someone like you. She seems to have opened up so much since you two started hanging out together." 

Her aunt smiled. You have no idea... "No need to thank me. It's been fun opening her up." The first big drops of rain splattered on the wet grass. "Gotta go. Talk you soon—give me a call if you need anything this weekend?" 

Alison smiled and hurried up to the safety of the kitchen. Opening her up? She smiled at her aunt's choice of words. That sounded like something Jason would say before he got all macho and fucked her. Her fully-dressed mother greeted her with a nervous smile.



A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 27



Gwen went over her mental checklists Saturday morning while cleaning and re-cleaning the house. She knew she couldn't leave it anything less than spotless for her daughter and son, but occasionally found herself distracted by doubts about what she had packed prior to Tim returning home the evening before. 

The dress she intended to wear to dinner that evening was hung by her small suitcase and ready to go while the items to wear under it were tucked safely out of sight in the bag. Still, she checked several times to make sure she had included everything she felt she needed for their evening at the Inn. 

Tim's gifts were in there, too; more than once Gwen considered leaving the album at home to be given later, when the time was right, and even went so far as to take it out of the bag once. Only the thought of having to explain her delay to Natalie made her return it to its hiding spot underneath her packed clothes. 

Bringing the objects under the magazine in her nightstand had been briefly considered as well. It was dismissed, though; using them might be too brazen given the romantic circumstances this trip was intended for, and besides, what if someone went through their bags while they were at dinner and found them? The idea of returning them to the closet crossed her mind as well, but Alison already knew about their existence, and Jason too, she thought ruefully; they were probably better hidden where they were.

The time she had spent with Natalie the day before weighed heavily on her mind as well. She had mentioned to Tim that they had ridden together, hoping he would ask for more information, but had apparently been too occupied with several phone messages to ask whether they had done more than ride. She had not told him of their activities after, and it bothered her that she had not been more forthcoming about their activities, despite the fact he had not been upset with her past dalliances. She would offer to tell him more, as much as he wanted to hear, Gwen decided. After this trip was over, though—she had enough to worry about as it was. 

Tim and Gwen were on the road that afternoon well before their housesitters arrived. They took their time, stopping several times along the way to browse local shops one or the other found interesting. 

It was a little past 4 when they made the turn onto the long driveway of the Inn At Little Falls. "More cars," Gwen murmured, remembering how empty the parking area had been the last time she was here. More cars meant more people, more people meant more risk of others finding out why they were here, and why she had been her before...

"More cars than what?" Tim asked, a smile on his face.

"Oh, uh more cars than I expected would be here," Gwen quickly lied. He would find out soon enough this was not her first visit; no need to start the explanations and apologies now. Steven and Norman awaited them at the top of the stairs that opened on to the wide porch. Gwen was mildly relieved to see they played their part perfectly, greeting her as if this was her first time in their establishment. It was only when Steven was leading Tim forward on a tour of the premises that Norman fell back, slowing Gwen as her husband turned a corner up ahead. "Natalie told us why you're here. Don't you worry about a thing!" She smiled, but a wave of panic rushed over her. They knew?

Her memories were vivid as they were shown to their room. The afternoon sun lit the space rather than the morning light she had remembered from that day, but everything else was the same. Tim whistled appreciatively. "Nice place," he told the innkeepers. "This is perfect!" 

"We like it," Steven, replied casually. "We're glad you do, too. I understand you have reservations down at Levi's?"

Tim nodded. "Our children set that up for us as an anniversary gift. Good food, I hope?"

"The best this side of Atlanta! In the meantime, please feel free to wander the grounds, have a glass of wine or a beer...the porch is wonderful for sitting this time of afternoon. If you need anything at all, just let us know." 

Gwen thanked them, and the door closed with a quiet thunk as they took their leave. The room produced adrenaline and fear, like the recollection of a memorable unbroken horse or a roller coaster...

Tim looked at her. "We've got a little while before dinner," he motioned to the French Doors. "Want to sit out in the garden?" A quick test of the bed would be fun, he thought, but she seemed too distracted for that just now.

"Maybe later. I think the porch might be nice, though."

"Porch it is." 

They were not the only couple out there, and Gwen was grateful for the distraction of other people, quietly sipping her wine before excusing herself as Tim talked fishing with another middle-aged gentleman. As good a time as any to get ready, she decided. 

Closing the door behind her, she took her bag and retreated to the bathroom to sort out the items she had worn that morning not so long ago. I won't show him this until he's seen the album, she resolved. If he doesn't like the pictures, he won't like this. The corset and stockings were fitted as quickly as possible, the possibility of being interrupted and prematurely exposed hurrying her efforts. The Slut suggested it might be a good night to go pantiless, but the Lady loudly squashed the idea, reminding her that the underwear was so wispy and brief as to be practically non-existent anyways, and that she was going to dinner with her husband in a nice restaurant, for goodness sake! At least pretend to be raised properly! The dress itself was the black one she had worn to the Chamber of Commerce dinner, more racy than she was used to, but presentable for a dimly lit restaurant. She reluctantly had to admit it managed to not hint too broadly at what lay underneath. Somewhat satisfied, she exited the bathroom as Tim returned from the porch. 

"Hey, I was wondering where you—" He stopped as he took in her transformation. "Wow." 

"What, is something wrong?"

"No, no, something is very right, but uhh, wow, different. You look incredible." 

She could tell his words were genuine. "Well, thank you. I figured this dress would be alright since we're out of town anyways." 

"Of course it is." The dress is great, Tim thought, but there's something more, something he couldn't put his finger on...he looked to her feet. "Have you ever worn shoes with that much heel? I like 'em. A lot." 

Once before, the Slut slyly replied, but Gwen did not put voice to the answer, instead looking at the floor. 

He took her in his arms. "Wanna skip dinner and get to dessert?" 

"Plenty of time for dinner and dessert," she said with that soft firmness he had first seen all those years ago. "Get dressed." 

Tim almost seemed to pout. "Yes, ma'am." 

Gwen made her way out to the garden on slightly unsteady legs and sat while he changed, confident in the privacy the lush greenery afforded, smiling when her husband came out in a shirt and tie. The only time she ever got to see him like this were weddings, funerals, and planning board meetings, she mused, but darn, he cleans up nicely. She could not deny the pride she felt in the anticipation of being seen with this handsome man. "Shall we go?" 

Their hopes of a romantic setting and good food were not disappointed. They exchanged their customary gifts before ordering, a fishing supply gift certificate for Tim, a tack shop spree for Gwen. They stayed for some time, just enjoying each other's company, before deciding it was time for bed. 

The drive back to the Inn was made in silence, Gwen fretting over what was about to take place, Tim, just smiling in anticipation of what he hoped was to follow. A bottle of champagne and two glasses were in their room when they returned, compliments of the innkeepers. She was not really much into champagne, but anything would help. Gwen poured a glass for herself, then her husband. 

"Tim, I, uh, have another gift I'd like to give you."

"Hopefully it's under that dress, because I love unwrapping presents." 

"Not that, at least not yet. Something else." 

His smile never wavered. "Honey, you didn't need to get me anything else..." 

She smiled weakly and moved to her suitcase. Her back to him, he looked on curiously as she fiddled for a moment then turned, a gift wrapped box in her hands. "I know I can't ask you not to be upset with me, but Natalie said you would like this..." Gwen handed it to him, picked up her glass, sat down on the edge of a chair and nervously sipped. 

Tim was baffled by her statement. Her normal air of calm and control was gone, replaced by a sense she was about to bolt for the door. He sat on the edge of the bed and carefully unwrapped the package, a red leather-bound album coming out of the paper. Tim looked at her questioningly, but she looked down to her glass and took another sip.

"Family photos? We haven't sat for one of those since the kids were in high school."

"No, not quite," she murmured, but offered no more. 

He again smiled, arched his eyebrows, and turned the cover as Gwen held her breath. The smile disappeared and his eyes widened as her husband turned the first page. Tim flipped forward two pages, then back, and looked up. The shaking woman would have giggled at the expression on her husband's face had she not been on the edge of panic. 

"How, wha...?"

The Lady and her worst fears took over. Gwen hurried to where he sat and grabbed for the album. "I am so sorry," she blurted, "I thought you might—"

Tim quickly pulled the leather-bound book out of her grasp. "Oh hell no! You're not gonna tease me and then take it away!" Gwen finally dared hope the look in her husband's eyes was not anger or disgust, but excitement. "Are they all like this?" She nodded, still looking for further confirmation he was not somehow displeased. 

Tim again opened the album to the first photo while Gwen returned to her seat and nervously sipped champagne. He only made it to his original stopping point before looking up again. "These are all of you?"

Gwen managed a smile. "I know it doesn't look much like me, but it is me, and I had someone—a professional photographer who specializes in that...kind...of picture take them. You're not mad, right?" 

"Mad? Gwen, I've only looked at 3 pictures and this is one of the best gifts you've ever given me! I would never have believed you had it in you!" His voice dropped a bit. "The rest of pictures are like this, right?"

"Worse." 

Tim's eyes were already back on the album in his lap. He turned several more pages, each one intently studied for quite some time, until he looked up and over at the dressing table, then back down at the page, then back at the dressing table. "You took them here? In this room?"

Gwen took a gulp of champagne, almost choking on the bubbly liquid. "Yes." 

Confusion again crossed her husband's face. "But when? I thought you've never been here before?"

"I'm so sorry Tim, I lied, but I couldn't think of any other way to keep this a secret. We took the pictures when I told you Natalie and I came to Atlanta to go shopping." 

Tim smiled, but was unable to resist the urge to resume viewing the photos. "I see. I should have known—you hate shopping. At least, you used to...so Natalie was in on this?"

"It was her idea—she did the same type of thing for Adam!" Gwen stopped abruptly, afraid she had given away one of her sister's secrets.

"Well, that's a bit of a surprise, but not as much as this." It was several more pages before he spoke again. "You showed so much skin—you're practically naked! I can't believe you did this!"

Gwen's fears again rose to the surface. "Please don't be mad, I really thought you would like it!"

Tim moved to where she sat and kissed her. "Honey, I'm not mad, I'm incredibly flattered that you would do such a thing for me. I can only guess how hard it was for you to let your guard down like this." He sat back on the bed and resumed viewing his gift. "Guy or girl?"

"What?"

"Was the photographer a man or a woman?"

"Oh—uhh, a man, but his wife was in the room the whole time, and Natalie was here with me, too!" 

"That must have been even harder for you, to get naked in front of a strange man like that."

"I was so worried you were going to get mad for letting him see me like that. You're not mad, right?"

Tim laughed, but did not look up. "Trust me, I'm about as far from mad as I can get right now. I'm just impressed he was able to keep his attention on his camera long enough to take these. This is like seeing you naked for the first time again!"

It took him some time, but from her vantage point, Gwen could see when he reached the blank page dividing the bedroom photos from the bathroom set. He smiled and flipped the page. 

Tim laughed. "That old shirt looks a hell of a lot better on you than it ever did on me! And where was this taken?"

"The Innkeepers' private quarters. They let Barry use it for the shoot." 

He continued to intently study the photos. "I've seen Walt in that position dozens of times," Tim said without looking up, referring to the picture of Gwen lying on her back under the sink, "but never once did I consider it sexy. Is it bad or good if I see this the next time he's headfirst under a vanity tightening the feed lines?"

It took him some time before he slowly flipped the last page over and looked up at Gwen. "Wow. This has been a night full of surprises." Tim delicately laid the album on the nightstand, stood and moved to where his wife was still sitting and clutching her empty glass. Gwen looked up nervously at the man towering over her. What now? She quickly glanced at his midsection, now at eye level. Her husband's dress slacks were unable to adequately mask the rigid length straining against the fabric. Maybe she had read his reaction to the album correctly? 

Tim took the glass from her and set it on a nearby table, then gently took her hands and pulled Gwen to her feet. He kissed her, not roughly, but with the intent of a man who knew what he wanted. Callused fingers grasped the catch of the dress's zipper and pulled, the purr quick and muffled. Hands reached for her shoulders as he stepped back. 

The dress was pushed off of Gwen, momentarily catching on her hips before Tim finished the job. "And yet another surprise," he murmured as corset and stockings were revealed. "I thought you felt a little different under that dress. The same outfit as that one, right?" He asked, gesturing to the album on the nightstand. Gwen nodded and looked down at the floor, slightly embarrassed for some reason. 

"Well I hope you brought my shirt too, because you're gonna model that after," he continued. "But right now—" Tim firmly placed his hands on Gwen's hips and steered her to the side of the bed before lifting and tossing her back, "I've got something I really need to take care of." He quickly began discarding clothes, his eyes never leaving the corset-clad body on the bed. "Take your panties off, but leave the rest," he commanded. "Spread your legs." Gwen had the underwear off by the time her husband was rid of his pants, Tim's boxer shorts tented by the staff between his legs. "Touch yourself. Are you wet?"

She already knew the answer, but followed his direction anyway. A finger was inserted at her opening and dragged up and over a clitoris anxious to be touched. Gwen nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Good. Keep playing with yourself." Tim watched for a moment to make sure she was doing as she was told, and then began pulling off socks and underwear, his cock snapping lewdly against his stomach as he pulled the shorts over it. 

Gwen was embarrassed to be masturbating in front of her husband, of so openly showing him what was his to take. Her clit had no such reservations and begged to be touch and stroked. 

Tim stroked his now-free cock several times as he watched the show in front of him before climbing between Gwen's legs. She thought he might use his fingers or kiss her down there, but he was in no mood for preliminaries. His hands came down beside her shoulders and he crouched briefly before flexing his hips and stabbing forward. His lips met hers as his cockhead pushed against her other lips. There was no subtlety to his movements, and with a single thrust he buried his length deep inside her, balls slapping against the skin of her cheeks. "I guess you were wet," he murmured and began to stroke. 

Tim did not take her gently, rising up on outstretched arms as he pounded while her breasts wobbled under the repeated impacts. Gwen knew he could not last long at this pace, and soon after he proved her right, using his feet to lever himself more deeply into Gwen's welcoming body as his seed filled her.

Spent, he rolled to his side and exhaled sharply. "Sorry, that was really selfish of me," he grumbled. "Let me take care of you now." A hand was already sliding down towards her sex, towards where the remains of his orgasm were already beginning to leak out of her...

"Let's take care of each other," Gwen announced as she closed her legs and rolled over to kiss her husband. "Do you think you can do it again?"

Tim smiled. "I may have a hard time walking out to the truck tomorrow, but I'm pretty sure I can go all night." 

"Then let me use the ladies' room and we can do exactly that." Gwen rose, careful not to allow her leaking sex to make contact with the duvet cover. "Would it be alright if I took this off?" she asked over her shoulder as she moved to the bathroom. "It's pretty, but a little constrictive." 

"Only if you come out wearing less than what you went in with." 

Gwen cleaned up as best she could, certain there some of her husband's orgasm remained in her even after she finished. "Well, that's definitely less," Tim agreed as he looked up from the album he had again opened and to his now completely nude wife. "Still a great look for you, though." 

She smiled and climbed under the covers next to where he still lay on top of the bed. "So, you really did like your gift?"

"Oh yeah, there's a couple of things I got my eye on for the boat—"

"Not the gift certificate, the album!" she pointed out, completely missing his jest.

"I know," he smiled. "but I do like the gift certificate. The album is on a whole 'nother level of like, maybe about 20 levels up." Tim kissed her. "I can't get over how much you must love me to do something that out of character. I would have never have guessed in a million years you would do that." 

"I do love you more than anything," Gwen agreed, "and Natalie kept telling me how much you would like the pictures, but I have to tell you—after I got over being scared, I liked doing it. It was fun to try and be sexy in a way that you'd like and would look good in an album."

"You succeeded beyond anything I could have ever imagined." And I've imagined a lot, he thought. 

Nothing more was said for quite some time as they made love, relaxed and passionate, Tim bringing her to orgasm with his tongue and fingers before mounting her for a slow and gentle coupling. Despite his declaration to go all night, they fell asleep in each other's arms shortly after he spent himself inside her again. 

Tim's stirring awoke her the next morning, early morning sunlight streaming in the windows. 

"Want to go get some coffee and sit in the garden?" Gwen asked, smiling at her husband. 

"We can do that," he agreed, but do me a favor and put on the shirt you wore in the pictures so you can model it for me when I get back with the coffee. 

"I can do that," she agreed, and went to her bag after Tim had put on a t-shirt and pair of shorts and padded down to the breakfast area. Gwen thought about leaving the shades on the bay window and French doors shut, but the urge to be just a little bit naughty prevailed as she tied back curtains and opened windows and doors, the grass yard and trees behind their room offering enough seclusion this time of morning. As promised, she was dressed in nothing but the faded Nelson Plumbing shirt when Tim returned with their coffee. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 27



"Even better live than in the photos. Shame I didn't know how good you looked in that before last night. That might be the most I'll let you wear at home from now on." 

"Stop it," Gwen replied, taking the steaming mug from his hand and kissing him. "It's just a shirt." 

"It's sexy as all hell. Hey, I know that you wore the other things in here, but would you mind posing for me in the shirt—like you did over by the window?"

"The Inn was empty when I posed there last time," she laughed. "It's full now. Somebody might see me." She didn't really think so, but the Lady insisted on voicing caution.

"At this time of morning? Besides, it just lawn and woods out there. No reason for anyone to be there. Please?" 

Gwen rolled her eyes and put down her coffee. She cautiously approached the window, looking for signs of life beyond, before assuming the first pose Barry had put her in that day. She felt incredibly self-conscious to be doing this in front of Tim, but the familiar tingle of arousal spread through her as well. She liked being the center of attention, the object of desire. Gwen warmed to the task, and continued to move about as her husband approached. 

"Put your hands on the edge of the windowsill and bend over," he growled. Gwen looked over her shoulder at him as she did as he instructed, head and shoulders into the bay window while the unbuttoned shirt fell open, her breasts dangling below her. Gwen could feel the hem ride up above her butt. She again looked back in time to see Tim sink to his knees and press his face up against the crack of her cheeks. The feel of his tongue probing her lips shocked her but the sheer perversity of the act only inflamed her further. Gwen thrust her hips back and walked her legs out more, giving him full access to her sex while his finger snaked around her leg and found her clit. A whimper of delight escaped her; to Tim it was the sound of a cheering crowd. 

She was beginning the climb to orgasm when he stood, his tongue replaced by a very ready cock. His entry was not so direct as their first time the night before, and he slid it back and forth between her cleft before finally resting the spongy head at her opening. His hands tightened their grip on her waist. "Tim, somebody might see us," she protested, but her heart was not in it. Let them see. For all she cared, they could be jealous for what she was getting and they were not. 

As if on cue, Norman appeared around the corner of the garden to her right, his path taking him right by the window they occupied. The Lady screamed to duck, hide, do something, but Gwen took no notice. Everything just felt too right. Let him look! 

The innkeeper turned his head, smiled, and waved as he passed, seemingly not shocked at all by the couple obviously joined together in the window barely ten feet away. Gwen nodded her head in reply, her mouth open in surprise and the orgasm that was even now breaking upon her. 

Her legs turned to jelly and only Tim's hands and penis kept her upright. She had only barely regained her ability to control her lower body when she felt him pull out.

"Turn around and kneel down."

Gwen did, thankful to be able to allow her legs to fully recover their strength. Her head was firmly taken between two masculine hands, and a glistening penis bobbed before her, the tip an angry red. Gwen knew what was expected, and she welcomed it. Her mouth opened wide and she bobbed forward to capture the cock being presented to her. The taste of her husband and herself created a perverse, intoxicating nectar. 

She let Tim use her mouth, to fuck it, and she knew how they both wanted it to end. Masculine fingers reflexively tightened about the back of her head and the first jet struck the back of her throat. Gwen instinctively recoiled but quieted to receive each spurt, her tongue tickling the end of the invader to encourage more. She swallowed only after her husband's body gave a final shudder and relaxed. 

The couple shared the shower before dressing and making their way to the dining room for a more substantial breakfast. The appearance of Norman halfway through their meal made Gwen blush and avoid eye contact, but the innkeeper made no mention of what he had seen. After one more relaxed lovemaking session in their bed, windows still open, they packed and said their goodbyes with the promise to return. 

The ride home was quiet. Both reflected on the summer, and how much "things" changed in three short months. Tim didn't regret them in the least, instead welcoming them; Gwen still harbored some doubts among the feelings of freedom and confidence. She wondered where her limits now lay; what she had thought incredibly slutty in May now seemed harmless. Was it going to be easy for her to identify when she stepped over the line? The Lady stood ready to guard against it, and the Slut stood ready to push the boundaries. She decided the woman whose shoulders they rode on would be her own master. 

Tim smiled and turned to her. "Hey hon, you, uhh, think I can take some pictures of you some time?" 

The End

*****

If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! It is incredibly flattering to know that there are readers who have developed a bond with the characters I created—one of my goals when I started writing this story was to put some "humanity" into it, not to mention believability, and from the comments and e-mails I've received, I'd like to think I've not failed miserably. 

Developing characters this way comes with a price, though. Making the people in my story something readers care about also means many readers become concerned for their wellbeing and safety or punishment and downfall. My intent has never been for Natalie to be viewed as a bad person, or to turn Gwen into someone who is lying or deceitful, and most definitely not to make Tim a cuckold. If you feel I've done that, or am well on the way to it, I apologize—my efforts have been quite the opposite. 

It is becoming apparent that any further exploration by Gwen runs the risk of darkening or cheapening the story for readers who have invested their time in identifying with the characters. Too much of the real world goes bad in the end; I would rather my story not suffer the same fate for those who might interpret its twists and turns that way despite my effort to the contrary. So while I still have plenty of situations I could get Gwen into, there would always be the danger of stepping over the line with those whom it would make uncomfortable. One commenter felt this might be a good place to put the story down, and after some thought, I agree. 

This has been a very entertaining way for me to creatively fill time on my work commute or as I wait for that delayed flight. My wife has suggested that a "Part II" might be a good way to allow those who think the current story was beginning to cross the line to drop off without any further disappointment. I'm also open to the idea of a new theme to start fresh with. Please feel free to leave a comment or send me an e-mail with a story idea you might like to see me do my amateurish best with. I can't make any promises, but if it's something I feel brave enough to attempt, who knows? 

Thank you again for reading and caring enough to comment,

BusyBadger



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 01



Author's Foreword

For all that expressed their wishes to see Gwen's story continue, thank you for taking the time to let your feelings be known. It's flattering to know you have enjoyed the story so far and don't wish it to end just yet. 

For those who feel Gwen went far enough (or too far) in the first part, the continuation may not be for you. 

For those still on the fence or new to it, be aware that the premise of this story is one of sexual exploration where departures from traditional monogamy are treated with openness and honesty by all characters. If you don't believe the premise is possible, this story is not for you. 

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Gwen made sure the bags containing her—Tim's, she reminded herself—photo album remained in the truck until Ali and Jason had left. She knew it highly unlikely her daughter would go through their suitcases, but it was best not to take that chance. 

They left the house clean enough, she decided, but still found herself straightening up the kitchen while Tim brought their luggage in. Clothes were unpacked and sorted for the laundry, the corset and black lace underwear set aside for hand washing. Gwen knew the panties were in particular need of soap and water after the soaking they had gotten the night before.

The album was unpacked as well. Gwen looked about the room, trying to envision a suitable hiding place before remembering it was Tim's gift, and he should be the one to decide the best spot for it. Just so long as it wasn't the coffee table in the living room... for now, she left it on the bed and took the half-full clothes basket to the laundry room.

Tim was sitting on the bed, slowly paging through the album, when she returned. He looked up and smiled. "Still can't believe you did this. You say Natalie has one too?"

Gwen nodded, cheeks flushing. "She did hers a little while back, yes. It's much better than mine—Barry even has it in a private section of his website as a sample for prospective customers to look at." In her mind, the photographer's request to post hers as well had only been made out of politeness, nothing more. 

Tim smiled again and rose to take her in his arms. "You saw it, huh? Well, I seriously doubt hers is better than yours. She's pretty an' all that, but she's no Gwen Nelson. I'll have to talk to this photographer—Barry?—about why yours isn't up there as well."

Gwen's eyes widened in shock. "You wouldn't dare!" 

"Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't. But in the meantime, looking at your pictures has me wanting the real thing." Tim bent to kiss her. 

Gwen pulled away. "Tim, speaking of Natalie, there's something I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want it to ruin our weekend at the Inn...Natalie and I went riding on Friday." 

"In that downpour? You guys are hardcore." 

"Well, we only got wet the last mile or so, and we didn't go for a swim after." She hesitated. Tim smiled at her expectantly, confident that was not the end of her story. "We did, uh, take a shower, though...together."

Gwen anxiously scanned her husband's face for signs of anger or disappointment. His eyebrows rose. "Really? I know they say shower with a friend to conserve water, but I didn't think we were in drought conditions..." That damnably smug smile remained. 

She plowed forward, her desire to get this off her chest emboldened by her husband's seeming lack of concern. "And then she trimmed me...down there—"her eyes glanced to her crotch before returning to a spot on Tim's chest while her face flushed crimson—"and then we, uhh...did some things in here after." 

His eyes sparked with mischief. "Did some things? Like what, play cards?" 

"Damn it Tim, I'm sure you know what we did, alright?" Gwen looked down at the floor, assuming the pose of a child who had been caught making a terrible mistake. I know you said that was alright before, but did you really mean it?" 

Her use of an expletive told him his humor had pushed her into a corner. "Whatever you two did sure as hell didn't make you lose your appetite at the Inn," Tim mused as he gathered her back into his arms. "In fact, I'm guessing it might have even stoked you up some. Yeah, I'm fine with it. I'm glad you two are friends. It's an interesting way of being friends, but girls are odd ducks to us guys anyways. Just don't get the idea Cliff and me are going to be showering together."

"Are you sure you're alright with it?" Gwen repeated, still not quite believing it. "It doesn't bother you that your wife is doing...that...with someone else, much less a woman?" The Slut giggled at the word 'that'. If you mean sex, you haven't had it with her yet, although the definition was up for debate...Gwen pushed the corset-bound alter ego out her thoughts. 

Tim shrugged. "Nah. Sex is sex, love is love. I've seen enough of our younger employees in action to remember that hooking up with someone for a little fun on Friday night does not require a commitment to honor and cherish the next morning. On the other hand, I do believe it's entirely possible to fall in love with someone without things ever getting physical. So, if I don't think quiet horseback rides together are going to convince you two to run away together and start a pottery studio in Florida, then I have to be consistent and think that a little time in the shower or on the bed won't either."

Gwen stared at her husband, slightly confused a she tried to sort out his logic and apparent confidence in the strength of their relationship. She didn't know a lot about men, but she had to believe this could not be considered a typical response.

"Now," Tim continued, "to me, the best is when there's love and sex at the same time, and I love you and really, really, want to have sex with you. So..." his strong arms slid by either hip and hands pushed down inside the back of her jeans to cup her cheeks. Clothes were slowly shed between kisses, Gwen briefly considering a run to lock the kitchen door as her bra was removed before dismissing the thought and reaching for her husband's belt buckle. 

They resumed their embrace after the last articles had been removed, Tim's erection leaving a slick trail as it slid against her stomach. Slowly he walked her backwards, lips locked, her calves bumping up against the mattress. Gwen turned and flipped the covers back before lying on the bed while Tim followed her. She spread her legs in expectation of his entry as he moved between them, but instead his head dipped and she felt his tongue draw slowly up the side of her cleft while a hand found her breast.

Her own hands instinctively went to the back of the head between her legs even has his tongue began to circle her clit. Gwen's fingers burrowed through her husband's salt-and-pepper hair down to the scalp, lying there in wait should the source of her exquisite pleasure try to escape. Her senses were on full alert; she saw Tim's head moving ever so slightly as he bent to her pleasure, heard his muffled breathing from between her thighs, and her nose picked up traces of Ali's perfume, reminding her the sheets needed to be changed. Gwen also smelled male musk mixed in with her daughter's scent; had she and Jason been intimate right where she now lay? The Lady squawked at the complete impropriety of the thought, and Gwen's focus returned to the feelings radiating from her sex. 

The tongue left her, and she had to restrain herself from pushing it back down in an attempt to complete the orgasm that was just beginning to tease its way into a fullblown fireworks show. The body between her legs shifted, rough skin meeting her thighs as he positioned himself for his first thrust. 

"Wait," she pleaded softly. Tim looked up, his face a mix of impatient lust and confusion. "Lie on your back."

He did as she asked, protesting as she bent to take him in her mouth, "Thanks hon, but I'm ready to go now." 

Gwen looked at the rock-hard staff just inches from her face and could see he was not lying. "Are you sure?'

"Very." Even now he was attempting to roll her back and resume his place between her thighs. Gwen resisted his gentle push and swung her leg over his hips. "Alright, then." Reaching back, she found his twitching length and angled it up to where she guessed they would meet. Her aim was true as she sank down on him, his tool easily sliding into her until she sat on his thighs, hips undulating as Tim's own thrusts signaled his desire. Changing the angle of their joining just a bit brought her clitoris into contact with his pubic bone, and she ground against her husband even as his hands began to squeeze and stroke the breasts pushed towards him. From her vantage point she could see that while the lust in Tim's eyes was still there, that the confusion had been replaced with a sort of rapture, and she wondered if her face was as expressive. 

Tim continued to stroke with purpose but not urgency. Gwen's body, however, was losing control as the hardness against her clit sped her resurgent climax. With a whimper, she fell forward on to the body beneath her, face buried in his neck and breasts mashed against his chest as she shuddered through the waves of pleasure. 

Tim's pace quickened, hips lifting off the bed to drive his cock into the prostrate body above him, his arms wrapped securely around the recovering woman. With one last push that lifted his straining body as well as the limp one above him off the mattress, he erupted. 

They lay there for some time after, side by side as their sweat dried in the air-conditioned room. Gwen knew she should go and clean up, but Tim's body felt so good next to her, and from where her head lay on his chest she watched his satiated manhood return to its slumbering form.

"Five times in one day," the man beneath her rumbled. "That's a new record. I'm going to have to just sit and let the apprentices do all the work tomorrow. Jordan might have pick me up here and drive me over to the shop." 

It took Gwen a moment to figure out the number her husband was referring to. We made love at the Inn twice last night, twice this morning, once just now...got it. "I must admit, I'm a little sore down there." 

Tim chuckled as his fingers lightly scratched her back. "C'mon, I'm not that big..."

Gwen smiled in reply as she continued to look down on his slumbering length. "More than big enough for me." There was silence for a while. "Did you ever do it more...before we met?"

Tim surprised himself with his ability to not flinch at the question, his hand continuing its arc across his wife's bare back. She had always known she was not his first, but Gwen never had asked much about his girlfriends before her, and certainly had never wanted to know about his sexual experience. 

He had only been with three women in his life—two one-night stands, and a month-and-a-half of young lust with Tammy Domillo. While he and Tammy and not been able to keep their hands off each other, their situations had not allowed for the extended bouts of privacy, and so backseats of cars and a few minutes together in party bedrooms had been the norm. Certainly not the stuff five times a day is made of. 

"No, this was the most I've ever done it," he answered truthfully. 

"Did Tammy Domillo like to do it?" 

Tim could not believe she remembered her name—he had mentioned her maybe once or twice at most, and certainly not since they had been married. "Yeah, I guess. We were both young and full of hormones," he offered as a mix of explanation and apology.

"Why didn't you two stay together?" 

"I think she wanted more of a bad boy, and a plumber's apprentice in trade school didn't fit that description for her. And, anyways I just kind of knew she wasn't the one for me. So, I moved here to apprentice with Mr. McGilvary, and she moved to Missouri, and there were no hard feelings. Last I heard, she was in Oklahoma, living with a bike mechanic." 

"I'm sorry I didn't like it."

"Like what?"

"You know, sex."

"I think you were just brought up that you weren't supposed to like it. Do you like it now?"

She hesitated, mulling her answer. "I do, very much." The Lady rolled her eyes at the seeming admission of weakness. Beneath her, Tim's stomach grumbled. Gwen sat up with a start, looking at the clock. "Look at the time! You must be starved! Let me go make you something to eat—you wait here and rest, I'll bring it back!"

Tim laughed. "Relax. I'm not so old yet that I my legs won't make it out to the kitchen. I'll help." 

The nude woman scrambled from the bed and began collecting the clothes that had been dropped in a disorderly pile earlier. 

"Wait—do me a favor?" Gwen looked up expectantly. "Wear one of my shirts?"

She straightened, jeans in one hand, bra in the other. "It's probably not safe for guests..."

"We're not expecting any, and it's sexy as hell."

She smiled and took her collected clothes to the hamper, then continued on to the closet. "I'll wear it tonight, but you have to wear it tomorrow," she offered as a clean shirt was removed from its hanger." 

"Deal!"

Gwen buttoned it from top to bottom, turning it into a very short dress, and made her way to the kitchen. Tim joined her soon after in just a pair of gym shorts. Despite their activity over the last twenty-four hours, her husband's hands frequently found their way over and under her cover, and she wondered if there might be a sixth time in the making. In the end, though, the couple was content to eat, finish chores, and relax in front of the TV before bed. 

Despite his threat, Tim managed to make it across the yard under his own power the next morning. Gwen amused herself by wondering if their employees could detect a feminine scent coming from their boss. Her cell phone announced a call from Natalie moments after the last truck left. 

"Well?" 

"Good morning Natalie, did you have a nice weekend?"

"Screw my weekend, how was yours?" 

"It was very nice."

"Very nice? Dinner at Martelli's is very nice. What did Tim think of your gift?" 

"He liked it. A lot." 

"I told you! I knew he would! No straight guy in his right mind would ever turn his nose up at you all sexed up! So, how many times did you do it?" 

Gwen was momentarily taken aback at the question. "Well, four times at the Inn, and then once when we got home, I guess." 

"Wow, that's some stud you've got there. When we were at the Inn, it took me a three day weekend to get that many out of your brother, and I had to do all the work on the last one."

The thought of Natalie naked and entwined with a man awakened the Slut. The idea that the man was Gwen's brother repulsed the ever-alert Lady. "Natalie, I just wanted to, uhh, say thank you...for your idea and making me go through with it. It really did make Tim very happy." Not to mention me. 

"Forget it. My pleasure. You can return the favor when it's my turn at Barry's—you're still going to go, right?" 

"If you still want me to, yes. Any idea when?" 

"Not yet, but soon I'd guess." Gwen could sense a touch of nervousness in her sister's answer, and said no more, switching the conversation to trivial family matters. 

The business phone lit up. "Sorry Nat, I've got a call from a customer, gotta go. Are we riding Friday?"

"Sure are."

"Great. See you then." 

The week passed quickly, Tim and crew starting a huge project at a new tract of condos going up near the mall, Gwen working tirelessly to support them as needed. She was already wondering where she would find the time to ride with her sister that morning when her cell phone rang. 

"Hey Gwen, it's Nat."

"Hi Natalie, how are you?" Tim looked up from the paperwork he was shuffling through and smiled. 

"Good—hey, listen, I'm really sorry, but the morning shift supervisor called in sick and I'm pulling a double. I've been down here since 6, so I won't be able to make it up there this morning. I'm really sorry!" 

"No, that's alright. Work before pleasure. Anyways, the boys have started a big project in town so it's been pretty hectic all week and I don't see it being any less so today. Probably best if I stay close to the desk, too." 

"Well, I still feel bad about cancelling," Natalie offered. "It looks like it's going to be such a beautiful day! Next Friday though, OK?"

"That would be great."

"Good! See you then if I don't talk to you before!" 

The women said their goodbyes. "Everything OK?" Tim asked.

"Oh yes, it's fine, Natalie's working a double shift so no ride today. I was wondering if I really had the time today, anyways." 

"You can go for a ride with me this weekend," he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Tim's few times on horseback had been uncomfortable experiences a long, long time ago, and she doubted he was ready to try again. No, he was talking about another sort of riding altogether...she blushed and looked about nervously to see if one of the others had caught his intent as well.

The morning was a blur of paperwork and phone calls, and Gwen only managed to catch her breath around noon. No requests from the crews to bring down extra supplies, no warnings of them coming up to raid the inventory, either. She was a little surprised to feel the back of her shirt damp with perspiration; the air conditioning was having trouble keeping up with the heat in the second floor office. Gwen decided it was as good a time as any to head over to the house for lunch. 

She meant to rush through her salad and head back to the office, but sitting outside on the deck made her slow down and appreciate the day. Natalie was right—it had turned out beautifully. It seemed a shame to waste it, even if her sister couldn't make it...the Lady made it clear that to delay paying the invoices on her desk would be incredibly lazy, but Gwen's mind was made up. She dropped her bowl in the sink, not even bothering to put it in the dishwasher, and made her way to the bedroom. 

Jeans, t-shirt, and a comfortable pair of knee-high black riding boots were selected for "just a quick ride up the hill," she assured the fuming Lady while telling the Slut "just in case" as she removed the rabbit from her nightstand. Bra and panties were left on the bed and she made her way out to the barn. 

Gwen stared at the saddle for several moments, lost in thought, after she had cinched it around Dart's midsection. A clean towel was finally retrieved from a nearby storage locker and draped over the leather. With a deep breath, she quickly undressed and stuffed clothes and vibrator into a saddle bag before stepping back into her boots and swinging a leg over the waiting horse. Gwen adjusted the towel between the saddle and her skin, hoping to have her bare thighs avoid sticking to the leather. Arrangements completed, she nudged the horse to the edge of the barn door to discretely check for unwanted visitors. Heart thumping wildly, she urged Dart into a trot towards the treeline. 

Exhilaration mixed with fear to produce a heady intoxicant . Tim had given some of his friends permission to hunt on the land in the past, provided they stop at the house first so as not to confuse horse and deer; what if they had not bothered to check in first? How would she explain her Lady Godiva act to them? Was it even hunting season yet? Her breasts bounced in a now familiar rhythm to D'Artagnan's steady gait, and Gwen soon slowed him to a walk to help him preserve his energy for the uphill climb as her own pulse began to slow ever so slightly. She found it easier to revel in the fact she was naked, outside and on her horse, if she did not have to worry about his footing and fatigue. Being topless had been a thrill; this was something more. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 01



They had traveled a half-mile before Gwen took note of the delicious feeling emanating from between her legs. The rider realized she had at somewhere further down the trail pushed her hips forward enough for her bare mons to be pressed against the base of the saddlehorn; The pressure and rocking motion combined to send regular pulses through her body. It was not enough to make her climax, but it was certainly enough to start a slow, easy climb to one. Despite the strain on her back and legs, her hips remained thrust forward until the picnic table appeared in the clearing.

Dart was loosely tethered in his customary spot while Gwen wandered the open space on the side of the ridge, enjoying the view, delighting in the breeze on her naked skin. She briefly imagined what someone across the shallow valley might see if they were to focus their binoculars up here—a black-booted, black-gloved but otherwise naked woman looking back at them. The Lady seized upon this to remind her that perhaps she could be seen, and it would be wise to end this game now. 

Gwen did back away from the edge of ridge and returned to the saddle bag, but not for clothes. Only the rabbit was retrieved on her way to the picnic table. Even what little cover she wore in gloves and boots was removed; she wanted nothing between her and the sun and the wind. The naked woman lay down on the top of the table, back and bum to the sun's rays beating down, the smooth wood warm against her stomach and nipples. She lay that way for just a few moments, eyes closed, ears taking in the whisper of the breeze in the pines, the occasional rattle of Dart's halter as he shook away flies, the cicadas sounding to each other all about her. She rolled over languidly. 

A memory from school came to her as she lay there, of an image in a book she was not supposed to have been looking at. It was of an Aztec woman, a human sacrifice, laid out on a ceremonial table as an offering to the Sun god. She had been dressed in little more than a buckskin loincloth and halter top while a befeathered priest hovered above her, dagger poised to deliver her for the gods' favor. And now the naked woman on the picnic table was that offering to the sun.

Gwen chided herself for the seeming irrelevance of her current situation and that distant memory; the heroine of that book was facing certain death, but Gwen would face only shame and embarrassment should she be found like this. She opened her legs in offering to the sun and reached for her own dagger in the hopes of summoning her own "little death". 

The vibrator buzzed to life at the push of a button, and the ears of the device surrounded and electrified her clit while the bulbous head teased her opening. The Lady asked her to please hurry up, as there was still much work to do in the office as well as the ever present danger of getting caught, but the Slut counseled enjoying every perverted moment. 

It took some time for the world to stop and her senses to leave her, Dart watching with mild interest as his human stiffened and rolled to her side, perilously close to falling off the table altogether. She lay there for a moment, catching her breath and gathering her wits before allowing the Lady to spur her along and back down the trail. Boots and gloves would be sufficient until she was closer to home and would need to dress. 

She stayed naked until she had groomed her horse and turned him out into the paddock, briefly considering a swim before the obligation to at least check messages overwhelmed her. Reluctantly she dressed, t-shirt and jeans sufficient until she could return to the house for more proper attire. Several messages awaited her, including one from Tim.

"Hey hon," he began, "Just wanted to let you know Dale Pescini—you remember him from the Chamber of Commerce dinners?- is gonna be stopping by later this afternoon to pick up a trolling motor. Hope you're decent. We'll be back a little later than normal—takin' everybody out for a beer after. See you then. Love you." 

Gwen checked the message's time—it had come in about the time she had been packing her clothes into the saddle bag, she guessed. What did later this afternoon mean? And what did he mean by decent? He couldn't have known what she had been doing? 

A call back to him for clarification would be in order, Gwen decided, right after she took the remaining item in her bag back to the house and changed back into work clothes. 

The sound of a big diesel coming up the driveway stopped her halfway between the office and the barn. The roof of Dale's truck cresting the small rise told her later this afternoon meant now. 

Gwen froze, unsure what to do while resisting the urge to look down and check her appearance. While she was somewhat hopeful her lack of panties might go unnoticed, she was certain the white-t-shirt she wore would not be sufficient to fully mask what was underneath. It was too far to run to the barn, office or house and hide; Dale would definitely see her. The Lady alternated between panic and I-told-you-so's; the Slut urged her to stick 'em out and do 'em proud. Reluctantly she crossed her arms over her chest and trudged back to where the truck had stopped in front of the office. 

"Afternoon, Gwen," the tall grey-haired man said with a smile as he eased his frame out from behind the driver side door. His well-muscled arms gave hint to the contractor's vocation. 

"Hello, Dale." Dale Pescini was one of the better stonemasons in the area. Gwen remembered him as a quiet, unassuming man, not much for conversation. His wife, on the other hand—what was her name?—more than made up for him in that area. 

"Hope I'm not interruptin' anything," he said in a baritone drawl. "Tim said I could borrow one of his trollin' motors." 

Gwen could see his eyes traveling up and down her, and she decided this is what it felt like to be mentally undressed. She had witnessed Tim's friends and associates do it to many women over the years, and knew it was harmless enough in a good ole' boy sort of way as those women had certainly invited it, but this was the first time she could ever remember receiving the treatment. She hugged herself tighter and wished for her underwear. "No, you're not interrupting. I just came back from a ride." Gwen nodded toward the stable, unwilling to move an arm to point. "He left me a message you were stopping by. Do you know where it is?" 

The big man smiled. He had met Gwen many times at jobsites and functions but never really bothered to check her out before, partly out of respect for Tim, partly because her choice of clothes effectively camouflaged what lay beneath. Her bitchy attitude had made it not worth any further attempts to imagine what lay beneath her chastity belt. But today was different, Tim be damned. The riding boots and jeans presented an almost painted-on look compared to what he had always seen her in, and, he was sure them titties were filling out that t-shirt real nice, if she would just lower her damn arms! "Yeah, he tole' me it was in the tractor shed." Dale stood there smiling, apparently in no hurry to leave. 

"Well, I won't keep you," Gwen said hurriedly. "I'm going to go up to the house and start dinner. Give my best to—" she hesitated, the image of his voluptuous wife in her mind—"Angie." 

"I'll do that," he smiled, still not moving. He watched her hurry across the yard, that tight little ass swaying underneath them tight jeans, until she reached the deck stairs. Only then did he turn away to avoid the minor embarrassment of being caught staring at the ass of his friend's wife and make his way to the shed.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 02



This story takes place in a fictional world with fictional people. Any similarities to people or things in the world we actually live in is coincidental.

*****

Gwen awoke to the sound of Tim's alarm clock. Her sleep-fogged mind tried to understand why hers had not gone off before his—she always got up a few moments before him on a work day to start breakfast. Wait-today was Saturday, she realized. Why had Tim set his alarm? She hadn't remembered him saying anything about working today? 

"Mornin," he said over his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed, clearing the sleep from his eyes. Even in her half-awake state, she made sure to watch his naked backside rise from the mattress as he headed for the bathroom.

Tim returned to pull shorts and a t-shirt out of his dresser as Gwen was slipping on her own shirt. "Are you going fishing?" She asked, moving to the kitchen to make coffee. 

"Nope, we're going for a ride. In the boat. On the lake. Remember? I offered to take you for a ride yesterday?" That boyishly sly smile reappeared. 

"Oh—uh, yes, of course—I didn't realize you meant that kind of ride," she called out down the hall.

"You were thinking about something else?" He laughed as he came up behind her at the sink. "You dirty girl, you." A hand reached around and cupped her t-shirt covered mound. 

Gwen whirled away, nearly spilling the contents of the coffee pot on him in the process. "No, no of course not! How could you think that! I just thought like a horseback ride, or a drive or something." 

Tim smiled. "Oh. Well, come out on the lake with me, and we can go for whatever kind of ride you want when we get back. Unless you want to just go back to bed and we can leave a little later..." He moved to take her in his arms, but she deftly avoided him while getting the water into the coffeemaker. 

She was all business now with a plan in place. "No, we should go early before it gets too hot, or too crowded. Go get the boat hooked up and I'll make you something to eat." 

Gwen dressed and packed more sensibly this time, towels and hats and sunscreen in the bag, baggy shorts and a t-shirt over her bikini. She didn't plan on going swimming out there, but one should always be prepared, and she was not going to get caught in anything less than her two-piece this time around. Not that the bikini covered much at all, she reasoned, but it was better than nothing. Their departure was less rushed than their first trip to the lake that summer. 

"Is Dale going fishing today?" Gwen asked after they had pulled on to the main road. 

"Yeah, I guess he is, why?"

"Why didn't you go with him?"

Tim laughed. "No, he's going out with his smaller boat—that's why he wanted the trolling motor. Not much room for one man and gear in his, so two would be a real stretch."

"Do you think we'll see him today?" 

"No, I think he's going over to Anvil Pond. Doubt he'll want to take that little thing out on the lake."

Gwen nodded with relief, eyes on the road. She had absolutely no desire to run into Dale Pescini today. The mental undressing he had given her the day before had unnerved her a bit, almost to the point of admitting the Lady had been right about the dire consequences of exposing herself to others. 

Dale was in the wrong for looking at me like that, she had decided even as she reached the kitchen the afternoon before. No man should look at a proper lady that way. She hadn't invited him to, not really. 

Her displeasure was not for Dale alone. She knew he had been evaluating her as a potential bedmate yesterday and that for a brief moment she had been flattered by his obvious interest in her body. That moment of weakness did not sit well with her. The fact that her fleeting self-affirmation had been quickly replaced by righteous anger and a need to remove herself from his mental undressing did not exempt her from the Lady's disdain.

He's a guy, the Slut reminded her. They're all gonna look if you show them even a little, and you did. Just don't let 'em touch and it's all good. 

T-shirts and shorts today, and nothing less, Gwen declared as she ignored her corset-bound alter ego. That would be both her punishment and display of self-control,. 

She did her best to help Tim back the boat down the landing and float it off the trailer. The truck was parked and he returned a short time later, casting off and easing away from the busy docks. Tim was in no hurry, meandering from one sheltered spot to the next, stopping occasionally to drop a line and see what was biting while Gwen sat primly in the passenger's chair and took in the sights. 

"Did you bring a suit?" 

She looked up and squinted at the man outlined by the sun behind him. "I did. Did you?"

He smiled suggestively. "Just the one I was born in." 

Gwen did not return the smile. "We're out in public."

"Downtown is out in public. Out here is...out in nature. And us getting back to nature last time didn't seem to cause a ruckus."

"What if the people in the boat that came along had known we were—skinnydipping and caused a ruckus?"

"They did know. They didn't seem to mind. But even if they did, they could have done what they did anyway and moved along. It's a big lake."

Gwen didn't answer, letting the topic drop. They continued to work their way up the lake, landmarks reminding her they were drawing close to where they both had "gotten back to nature" the last time out. She grew nervous and excited. Was his destination and intent the same this time around? 

To her relief, Tim continued on past their cove at a leisurely pace, waving to the couple on the boat already there. She relaxed a bit as their craft slowly nosed around the next point and into the outlet of a creek, a V-shaped indentation that cut deeply into the shoreline. 

Two boats lay at anchor, nobody visible topside on either at the moment. Tim aimed for the gap between them , towards a strip of sandy beach visible beyond. Two collections of innertubes and small rafts were pushed up on the strand at water's edge.

Gwen's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as their boat slid between the others and gave her a clearer view of the inflatables' owners. Her focus darted back and forth between the two couples, trying to confirm what was already evident.

"Tim," she hissed, trying not draw attention, "keep going!" 

He glanced over to her before returning his attention to stopping the boat in a suitable spot. 

"Huh? Why?" 

"Because they're naked!" she said as loudly as she dared over the engine's grumble.

Tim risked a look into the beach. "Huh, yeah, I guess they are." As if in response, the older heavyset man at one end of the beach raised his head from where he lay and looked out at the newcomers then flopped back down, much like a basking walrus alert for interlopers. 

Gwen turned her head to avoid being caught staring. "Tim, we're intruding on their privacy!" 

"They're not shooting at us or trying to hide, so I'm going to guess they don't mind." He smiled, and scrambled forward to drop their small anchor. 

Gwen glared at his back, wondering if this was some sort of joke. She felt her anger rise just a bit at being put in a situation where The Slut could make the idea of being seen —and seeing others-seem enticing. The Lady fought back, reminding her of her promise to take the proper path from here on out.

Tim hurried back from the bow to the storage locker and removed a waterproof sack. He quickly took a towel from the bag Gwen had packed, then looked up at her. "Want me to put one if for you , too?"

"One what?" 

"A towel. I'm going to swim into shore and sit for a bit. Come with me."

"In there? I think we'll stick out..."

Tim had already removed shorts and shirt and was stuffing them into the bag. "Not if we're all dressed the same. As far as sticking out goes, if I do—" he glanced down at his flaccid member—"then maybe a swim will take care of that." 

Gwen stood there in shock, resisting the impulse to become the overprotective wife and mother and wrap him in a towel before the couples on shore could see any more of him. "I can't go on the beach...like that..." 

"You'll be fine," he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "But if you want to stay on the boat, that's okay too. I'll stay where you can see me, alright?" He dropped the bag over the side, checking to make sure it floated before dropping in beside it. "Water's great," he said after he surfaced. "C'mon in." Tim didn't wait for her to change her mind, sidestroking for the beach, pulling the satchel behind him.

She watched him go, at least for a moment. Her attention was soon diverted to the others on the sand as she hoped they would think she was still watching the naked man that had jumped off her boat. To the left was the older heavyset man, his chest covered in a silver fur that was visible even from this distance, while a woman with some extra pounds of her own was to his right. He was laying on his back, his round belly and meaty thighs obscuring the junction of his legs, while the woman sat upright reading a magazine, apparently unconcerned that her hanging, pendulous breasts were on full display. Gwen was aghast that two people that age would treat their nudity so casually, and upset that is seemed to be bothering her more than them. 

The couple on the other end of the beach was much younger. The man appeared to be closer in age to Gwen's daughters, sitting with arms loosely wrapped around his drawn-up knees, while what she guessed to be a young woman lay on her stomach to his right. The youth casually observed Tim approaching shore before his eyes moved on, scanning and stopping on the still-dressed woman on the boat. 

Gwen turned away at the realization she was being examined by the young man, suddenly unsure that what she wore was sufficient cover. She sat down in the cockpit and looked back in time to see Tim now upright and waist-deep in the water, trudging the last few yards to the shore. His naked buttocks emerged from beneath the surface, and Gwen knew what was between his legs was now on display for all on the beach. 

Tim turned back to look at her, and Gwen briefly thought he might have thought better of things and was coming back. Instead he waved and began to unpack the bag he had towed ashore. Even from here she could see his penis and testicles had drawn up tightly against his body, something she had only discovered this summer happened in cool water, and she briefly wondered if the other men on the beach experienced the same thing before the Lady sharply reprimanded her for even thinking about other men's private parts. 

Gwen considered retrieving her book and waiting there in the safety of the boat's cockpit until her husband grew tired of this game, but the fact he was now laying out a towel about halfway between the couples made her believe they were going to be here for a bit. She had begun to debate the possibility of joining Tim on shore—in her bikini, of course—when another couple appeared, making their way out of the woods and down the short embankment behind the beach. Most likely friends of the young couple, Gwen decided based on their direction of travel and age, and that they were nude just like the others. Both were deeply bronzed and without tan lines. The young woman was striking, a perfectly sculpted body matched with perfect breasts riding high on her chest and long black hair that hung down her back and. Her partner had the well-defined chest and legs of an athletic youth, a flaccid penis swinging back and forth in long arcs as he strode across the sand. From her vantage point, Gwen could see they both kept themselves hair-free down "there" as well. It somehow made them look even more sleek and athletic, she had to admit. 

The pair stopped at the younger couple's spot to drop the towels they carried. The young man plopped down on the sand, exchanging a fist bump with his friend over the form of the still-prone woman while his partner continued on down to the water. Gwen knew it was rude to stare, but she could not look away as the young woman continued to wade in until she was waist-deep. Only then did she stop, her hand dipping under the surface and between her legs. 

To Gwen, the raven-haired woman's focus appeared to be cleaning rather than pleasuring; and the thought did not escape the watching woman that it was meant to remove what had been deposited there. It dawned on Gwen that the couple had possibly been up in the woods making love. Decency again caught up with her and she averted her eyes as if she had been observing the actual coupling. The sound of the young woman splashing back up to the shore tempted her back to watch that rock hard bottom sway up the beach to the others. 

She sat on the towel thoughtfully laid out by her young lover and quietly said something to the woman lying next to her. She laughed while reaching over to absentmindedly pat the soft length between her boyfriend's legs as if she was praising a faithful dog. 

Tim should not be on that beach alone, Gwen decided, and both Lady and Slut agreed. The plan that formed did not focus on the Lady's intent tobring her husband back aboard, however. She stood and turned her back to the beach as though not being able to see the beachgoers brought her some privacy and carefully removed shorts and top. Across the open expanse of water she looked out on boats moved back and forth, none very close at all, using the center of the lake as their high speed routes up and down its length. With a deep breath she turned and presented her bikini-clad front to the others and made her way carefully down the stairs at the stern.

She hung there a moment, submerged up to her neck in the lake's warmth, eventually letting go and treading water while untying her top. Gwen had known from the moment she had made the decision to go to shore that doing so with what little cover she had would make her stand out from the others; but to strip down in front of them on the gently bobbing stage she had just gotten off of was too much. The top was carefully wrapped around the stair's handhold, within reach should she need it. After a bit of a struggle, her bottoms were put there as well. Might as well get it over with, she decided, and began to slowly make her way to the beach. 

Gwen swam as far as she could, her naked body just below the surface, before the water got too shallow to continue paddling. She reluctantly let her feet find the sandy bottom and stood. Water streamed over glistening skin, sunlight dancing off the rivulets and beads as she waded the last few feet to where Tim now stood grinning, holding her towel out for her. The Lady urged her to hurry to its relative safety, but she ignored the plea. Gwen snuck a glance to her left as her waist cleared the surface—the older couple apparently had no interest in her arrival, the man continuing to doze while the women read. A glance to her right showed a different level of attention. 

Both young men were looking in her general direction, their sunglasses hiding exactly where their stares landed, but Gwen knew she was the target. The certainty unlocked something in her, a sense of pride and power fueled by their subtle flattery their interest implied. Before the summer had begun she might have met them with an icy stare, willing them to avert their gaze, not that she would have ever put herself in this position; now she pretended not to notice while inviting them to look. Years of proper posture was taken to another level, chest pushed out in proud display while the Slut made every effort during her slow walk up the beach to maximize the enticing swish of her hips. 

Another quick glance revealed the two young men had averted their gaze, most likely at the threat of being caught by the raven-haired young woman between them. She had risen just enough from where she lay to support herself on her elbows, unabashedly watching the older woman as she crossed the last few feet to her towel, drinking her in. Only when Gwen had taken the covering from her husband and briefly wrapped herself as a mock bow to modesty did the young woman lay down again. 

The urge to display herself calmed as the four young people lay down, their occasional glances becoming quick and furtive. Gwen hurriedly kneeled and removed the towel to lay it on the sand, then sat down. The position assumed by the first young man when she had been on the boat made the most sense, and she pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them, doing her best to hide her nakedness behind her thighs. 

To her right, the older man stirred and sat up. He stood and stretched, the movement clearly revealing the penis beneath his beer belly as he thrust his hips forward to arch his back. He was certainly no Adonis, but Gwen found a certain attraction to the man's silver-haired chest. Tim was not particularly hirsute; the fur this man wore had a certain masculine appeal to it. What lay below that bulging stomach had her attention as well. This was the first time she had ever seen "real" penises besides Tim's; the older man's was still drawn tightly up against his body, as if he had just been swimming. The differences between just the three she had seen so far fascinated her. Gwen discretely watched him trundle to the water and slowly submerge as he walked out towards the boats at anchor.

"Sunglasses?" 

Gwen looked over at Tim as he lay next to her, his own manhood now warm in the sun and back to its normal relaxed size. "I left mine on the boat," she said with regret. "I thought I might lose them when I swam in."

"I put a pair in the bag. You can use those if you want." 

Anything was better than nothing for cover, and she quickly reached for the satchel and located them. Her senses on full alert, the huddled woman scanning all about her for any sign that somebody had been offended by their nudity. 

A movement from the young couples' direction stopped her patrolling. The woman—the hips, rear, and blond ponytail were definitely a woman's, Gwen had decided when she first reached shore—was still lying on her stomach, head turned away from the other couples, towards her boyfriend lying next to her. Her left arm lay relaxed by her side while the other lay over the man's hip, her hand gently toying with his awakening length. 

Gwen quickly snapped her attention to the boats, afraid she might have been caught spying on their intimate moment while trying to convince herself how wrong the display was. Over the Lady's strident protests curiosity drove her to turn her head ever so slightly back in their direction, hoping her sunglasses would hide where her gaze truly lay. 

The pink mushroom head the woman was teasing with a fingernail contrasted brightly with the tanned length and sac below it. She could see that the light touching was turning to something more, and the stroking became more purposeful,from tip to base. The young man turned his head to look at the owner of the hand and mumbled something. She mumbled back, and the couple began to rise. Gwen quickly looked back out at the boats where the older man was emerging from the water like a furry sea monster. Her gaze kept miving to the open water beyond. 

"We're gonna go take care of some business," the man standing to her left announced to the other couple. He spoke in a conversational tone, clearly unconcerned that their friends knew their intentions, or even that Gwen and Tim could hear him. 

"Have fun. Don't wear it out," the dark-haired woman responded without bothering to raise her head off the sand.. Reflexes took over, and the Slut willed a quick glance in the direction of the voices before she or the Lady could stop her. 

The young man was equally as fit as his counterpart, with a well-defined upper body and short blonde hair that stood out against the rest of his bronzed skin. His erection was now in full bloom, standing up proudly against his abdomen, a condition he made no effort to hide. The woman who had awakened it did not have the toned body of her friend, but rather a slightly more voluptuous figure with wide hips and an impressively large pair of breasts. She alone among her companions had a v-shaped thatch of hair between her legs, a bit darker than the hair on her head. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 02



Gwen continued to look at the couple out of the corner of her eye, amazed at his bold display and their apparent lack of concern that others knew what they were about to do. Her attention was on the second erection she had ever seen, and was slow to react to the owner of the straining penis turning to look at her. 

He smiled cockily at Gwen, turning his body slightly to offer her a better view from which to admire him. She jerked her head down and around, cheeks flush with the burn of knowing she had been caught. "I'm going to go for a swim," she mumbled, and hurried to the water intent on retreating to the relative safety of the boat. Gwen turned back one last time before diving in to see if Tim was following. The young couple was climbing the embankment behind her husband, the man's hand groping under and between his girlfriend's cheeks while she tried to swat him away. Despite her embarrassment, Gwen stopped and watched them disappear into the trees, then backpedaled until her feet could no longer touch the bottom. She knew the boat was not far away, but she did not turn and swim for it, instead feeling some relative security in having her nude body submerged. Gwen tread water, trying to be discrete as she scanned the trees. 

Tim rose and casually strolled to the lake's edge and continued on into the water, towards Gwen. She stayed where she was as he approached, unwilling to move towards him and perhaps expose her breasts again. The young woman appeared from out of the trees as Tim drew near, hurrying towards her friends in a manner that suggested she was not particularly pleased, breasts bouncing with each stamping footfall as she vigorously rubbed at her right eye. Her boyfriend sauntered into view a moment later, smiling and apparently unconcerned with the woman's state of mind, erection drooping only slightly.

The perturbed woman unceremoniously dropped to her knees next to her friend and began talking while wiping at her face with her towel , obviously agitated. Gwen heard snippets of the conversation, "bastard", "quick shot", and "face" the only words spat with enough force to make out. Her companion had by now reached the group, his friend laughing loudly and pointing as the offended woman continued her story. The young man shrugged and joined the laughter before sitting down and trying to make peace with the agitated blonde. 

Gwen saw this last bit play out from over Tim's shoulder as he reached for her. She backed up, deciding that any physical contact would send the wrong message to those on the beach. He laughed, clearly not offended by the rebuff. 

"Wanna go take care of some business?" He said with a grin, mimicking the young man. 

Gwen had no doubts as to what her husband was referring to. "Absolutely not! Not with all these people here! We've already been far too risky!" 

"Well, how about we take care of business somewhere else?" 

The Lady jumped at the chance to end this adventure before things went terribly wrong. "Anything you want," Gwen offered. "Let's just go now, OK?"

Tim smiled. "I think we've gotten enough sun . Don't want to overdo it on the first day. You want to come back with me and help pack up the bag?" 

"No, you seemed to do just fine without me when you came in. I'm going to go back to the boat, alright?" 

"Alright be me. I'll be out in a few minutes." Gwen allowed him a quick kiss before they went in opposite directions. Tim had already begun to pack the satchel by the time Gwen reached the ladder. She briefly considered getting her bikini back on before climbing up, but she knew it was going to be a major effort while treading water. She quickly clambered into the cockpit and sat down to get dressed. 

Tim arrived as she was buttoning her shorts, thankful the bikini underneath had dried in the sun. He joined her and made his way forward to bring up the anchor. 

"Aren't you going to get dressed?"

"Maybe in a little bit."

"Tim, you're going to get us in trouble!"

"Nah, I doubt it. The only authorities out here are Fish and Game. Charlie's got a buddy who's a warden out here, and he says they're so busy with drunk boaters and guys without fishing licenses that as long as you're not making a nuisance of yourself, they're not going to hassle you. Besides, we see skinnydippers out here all the time when we're fishin', and I've never seen anybody get busted for it."

"You've seen naked people out here before? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't think it was important. There's a cove further up the lake that we've seen have fifteen-twenty boats in it, and everyone partying, naked as the day they were born." Tim plopped in the captain's chair and turned the key. The engine grumbled to life, and he deftly brought the craft around and between the other boats.

Gwen expected him to move away from the shore and into the "highway" in the middle of the lake to speed their way back to the dock and ultimately, their bedroom. She guessed her husband was anxious for her to make good on the promise she had made in the water, and she was anxious to do so—the fear, excitement and appreciative looks had created a powerful desire in her. 

She was disappointed to find he seemed to be retracing their route back up the shoreline, nosing around the point they had come by earlier. The cove beyond was now empty, the boat that had been there earlier gone. 

Tim cut the engine and allowed the craft to coast to a stop twenty yards from shore. "So," he called out as he rose from his seat, "how about we take care of some business?"

"Here? We'll be seen!"

"We can go up into the woods, if you want..." 

The Lady threw a tantrum at the thought of having sex in the dirt of the forest floor, the Slut taunting her with lurid images of Gwen on her hands and knees in a clearing while Tim took her roughly from behind. "Don't you want to wait until we get home, in a nice soft bed?"

"We can do that when we get home, too," he offered, "but you did say anywhere else, and this qualifies, so..." Tim moved to where she sat in the row seating along the stern and knelt before her. Gently he pushed a knee aside and began to kiss his way up the inside of her leg. 

You said anything, not anywhere, the Lady protested, but Gwen allowed him to continue knowing that arguing the distinction would be splitting hairs. Her legs relaxed, opening for him, noting the lips drawing ever closer to where she hoped he would travel.

Tim stopped, and rising up on his knees, unbuttoned her shorts. She could see his staff was already approaching full length and she reached to encourage it to swell even further, but he moved before she could grasp it, rocking back on to his heels and pulling the shorts along with him. The process was repeated with her bikini bottom as she looked about nervously for onlookers, and then there was nothing between him and his goal. Again the kisses came, traveling up her thigh while she slouched and pushed her hips forward off the edge of the padded bench to make herself less viewable to others and more accessible to her husband's attention. She felt lips against her sex, and then a tongue gently probing for her opening. An engine revved in the distance, too far away to see us here, she decided. Gwen threw her head back and soaked in the incredible feelings radiating through her body. The tongue between her legs was patient, slowly but certainly driving her to orgasm. Still, she was surprised when it did finally come with her sitting in a boat on a well-traveled lake out where the world could see. The twitching woman was reluctant to admit those very circumstances only contributed to the strength of her climax. 

She recovered faster than normal, the Lady and her senses anxious to return to vigilance. Gwen slipped to kneel next to her husband and urged him to take her place on the seat while glancing to the side to reassure herself that she could not be seen from outside the boat. Tim did as she instructed and assumed the same slouch, presenting himself to her while his arms rested comfortably on the railing behind him. 

She gently began to run a fingernail along his length while she crouched between his legs, remembering how the girl on the beach had done the same to her man's penis. Too formal, Gwen decided. That was a cock, just like the one she was now teasing. 

Tim closed his eyes, smiled, and groaned contentedly as fingers danced along his length. A fingernail dragged lower, over his loose sac, and continued down to stop just above where it would have to push between his cheeks. Gwen glanced up to affirm his satisfaction with her work and bent forward to run a tongue up under his sensitive head. He twitched, but certainly didn't push her away. She lightly stroked for some time, examining his manhood with a newfound interest as images of what she had seen on the beach formed comparisons. Those were nice, the Slut declared, particularly those belonging to the young men, but this one was hers. 

"Tim?"

His eyes opened, but the look of contentment was still on his face. "Hmmm?"

"I want to see you shoot your stuff."

"I can do that. Want me to show you?" His hand was already reaching to start the process.

"No, I want to do it." He smiled and closed his eyes while her effort changed from tease to giving her husband the orgasm he deserved. Gently she cupped his balls while her fingers curled around his shaft in a delicate fist and began to stroke. He lasted for some time, Gwen beginning to wonder if she was somehow doing it wrong as her arm began to tire, before the thrusting of his hips told her he was near. 

The first spurt leapt from his slit to land midway up his chest, each pulse after a little weaker until his remnants dribbled down over her fingers. Her grip stayed locked about him as she studied the milky white spend covering her knuckles. His body relaxed, and she knew he was satiated. 

Tim took a quick swim to clean the remains of his orgasm from his body, and Gwen happily joined him after shedding her shirt and bikini top. The two swam and floated together for some time, Gwen only mildly concerned they might be discovered. She almost reluctantly climbed back aboard to begin the trip home. 

Gwen happily took him up on his offer for another ride when they reached the comfort and privacy of their bedroom.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 03



Tim and Gwen's lovemaking that Sunday morning was slow and relaxed, neither in any particular hurry to forego the comfort of each other's attentions for a quicker release. The Lady's complaints about wasting the day in bed eventually became too much for Gwen to ignore, and she coaxed her husband between her legs and to his orgasm. The business of running a household would not wait, and Gwen politely slid from beneath him and headed for the bathroom soon after his last tremor had passed. He chuckled and shook his head. Tim knew his wife had a schedule to keep, even on the weekend.

"Tim?"

His razor stopped in midstroke as he looked into the mirror at the reflection of his wife standing behind him. He had not bothered to dress after his shower, but Gwen had thrown on a robe as a defense against any unexpected visitors that might find their way to the house that morning. "Hmmm?"

"That beach yesterday. Did you know people did...that...there?" 

"Well...I know there are certain spots on the lake that feature less clothing than others...that being one of them."

"And how do you know that? You've been there before?"

"Well, yeah...Charlie knows where most of 'em are, and when we're out on his boat fishing, he seems to find his way towards them for a quick look-see."

"And have you and Charlie ever...joined them?"

Tim laughed. "Oh, God no! There's no way I would ever want to see Charlie naked, and it really would be cruel and unusual punishment to expose him to others!"

"So, that was the first time you ever did...that?"

His eyes met hers. "First time. Let's just say I didn't think you would have the same scarring effect on people's eyeballs that Charlie would." 

"I see." She thought for a moment, the Lady unwilling to believe her husband would willingly expose his wife's naked body to others. Had he hoped to put on an even bolder display? Tim's reflection looked back at her for some sort of confirmation that her line of questioning had reached its end. "Did you know that they did more than just take their clothes off?" Images of the young woman fondling her boyfriend were fresh in her memory. 

He slowly began shaving again. "Can't say that I did," he answered truthfully. "We never really get close enough to see anything like that. Charlie likes to look, but he doesn't want to look like he's looking." 

The Lady sniffed in disbelief while the Slut moved to take things in another, more perverted direction. "Do you know why that girl was so angry with her boyfriend?" Gwen was pretty sure she already knew that answer, but the Slut desired confirmation and perhaps a man's view of the event. She sensed Tim's discomfort with the subject, and felt guilty for asking.

"Well," he began slowly, finishing the last strokes of his razor and reaching for a towel, "she was pretty vocal about it, so yeah, I guess I do. I'm surprised you didn't hear her as well."

"Oh, I couldn't make out what she was saying," Gwen answered half-truthfully, "so, why was she upset?" 

Tim patted his face with the towel, unwilling to make eye contact. "Oh, let's just say her boyfriend was quick on the trigger," came his muffled response.

"You mean he...finished too early?"

"Yup, you could say that."

"But she seemed so mad!"

"Well, I think it took her by surprise." He looked at Gwen and could tell his explanation was not sufficient. "He lost it right about face level..."

"Oh. Oh!" The Slut crowed in pleasure with her correct interpretation. "And I guess she didn't like that?"

Tim laughed again. "Would you?"

Gwen sidestepped the question. "Do you think it was an accident?" 

"Possible, I guess, but I doubt it. Just one of those things guys like to do, and he seemed like one of those guys that shoot first, ask permission later."

"Did you ever want to do that?" Gwen remembered Natalie's accounting of Adam's tastes on the subject; was it really just a "guy thing"?

It was Tim's turn to artfully evade. "I would never do anything that you didn't like." Her quick glance at his reflection gave him away; she didn't think his awakening member was a figment of her imagination. "But I would always ask permission first. You have a beautiful face," he murmured as he kissed her on the forehead and moved past her towards his clothes. Gwen and the Lady worked together to let the subject drop, although she and the Slut pondered the meaning of his last statement for some time after.

Friday approached, and Gwen's anxiety grew. She and Tim had not spent much time together due to the amount of time he was spending down at the condo job site, and while her toys had been called into action twice to help deal with the effects of a rampant imagination enlivened by their day at the lake and their conversation about it, she found herself wanting more. Her inability to satiate her desire made her doubt she would have the strength and resolve to resist any more inappropriate activities after her ride with Natalie. The Lady proposed she cancel, or at least move their get-together to a spot less likely to make certain "perversions" possible, a solution Gwen rejected as decidedly unfriendly. Perhaps some alone time before Natalie arrived would be the answer, to take the edge of any desire later on. 

Gwen got up from her desk to head to the house and follow through with her pre-Natalie plan after the last of the urgent paperwork was disposed of that morning. The curious mix of nerves and excitement reminded Gwen of the emotions she felt before riding into a competition show ring—the thrill of the adrenaline-pumping ride while she fought the fear of "screwing up." Her nerves currently had the upper hand over her desire and had dampened much of her need for self-pleasure, but her practical side was certain that to do so now could help avoid being put in a compromising position with her sister later. 

Her cell phone went off as Gwen picked it up from the desk, almost making her drop it in surprise. A brief wave of fear swept over her as the thought occurred it might be Natalie calling to cancel. A glance at the displayed number told her otherwise.

"Hi Alison, what's up?"

"Hi Mom! What are you up to today?"

"Oh, you know, just did some paperwork, going to go riding with your Aunt Natalie later..." and a trip to the bedroom in between, the Slut added. 

"Oh...well, I've got the day off-would you two mind if I tagged along? Unless this is a grown-ups only thing?" She added hurriedly.

The Lady gave a polite cheer. Alison's presence would most certainly prevent any improper behavior. 

Or would it, Gwen worried. Her mind conjured images of Natalie stripped to waist as she mounted her horse, or walking around nude in the front yard as she retrieved her bag from the car. She wouldn't with her niece here, would she? 

"Mom?" Ali's voice brought her back to the here and now. 

"Oh, of course, honey, sorry, please join us, it's not a grown-up only ride, and besides, you're a grown-up!" she babbled. "Whatever horse gets left behind when we ride together gets so mad! They'll all love getting out together for a change."

"Great! I'll be up in a little bit."

"We'll wait for you." 

Gwen first reaction was to call Natalie, to warn her, to ask her not to—what? She tossed about the words needed to convey a message of propriety while around her niece, not finding anything that she thought might not come off as insulting or insensitive. In the end, she decided to wait until Natalie arrived and politely ask for her cooperation once she had gotten a read on her sister's mood. 

It was Alison who arrived first, however, five minutes before her aunt. Mother and daughter were still exchanging pleasantries in the yard when Natalie pulled her SUV up next to Ali's. She was dressed as she always was, tight jeans, tight t-shirt, no bra, and greeted the others with a mix of surprise and warmth. Gwen watched nervously as they saddled the horses, examining her daughter for any sign that she might have noticed her aunt's unfettered breasts, waiting for that moment where Natalie would remove her top and Alison would be shocked and mortified by her nudity. She debated what to do—act shocked and mortified as well, or perhaps pretend it was not happening and ignore it altogether? The first option would certainly be what Alison would expect of her mother, but Gwen knew that would be hypocritical given the casualness they had developed on their rides. Gwen decided she would not be able to fault Natalie for calling her out on that fact and chose not to open that box. The Slut suggested she take off her shirt as well in a show of support, an idea that was quickly dismissed. 

The busty blonde cinched the last strap and led Tigger out of the barn. The others followed with their mounts, Gwen cautiously hopeful that today at least, Natalie's shirt would stay on. To her relief, it did, and the trio started up the ridge. 

Gwen fretted over every moment on the trail, fearful her sister might say or do something that would be completely inappropriate with Alison in attendance. Despite nothing more salacious than gossip from the family's law firm of Curran, Stein, and Associates, Gwen cringed at the thought of Natalie as a ticking time bomb of exposé.

They took the long way around the ridge to the picnic table, only stopping there briefly to stretch. 

"Oh Gwen, is next Friday a good day to go see Barry?" 

She visibly stiffened at the question and forced herself to relax. She knew what Natalie was speaking of. "Uh, sure, I guess. We can talk about it later." 

"Who's Barry?" Alison asked innocently from the other side of Tigger. 

Gwen scrambled to frame a suitable answer. 

"Barry is a photographer," Natalie replied easily. "Does wonderful portrait and human interest work. I'm taking your mother to go see some of it."

"Mom? Looking at pictures of something other than horses?" She stepped from behind her mount and smiled. "Is it time for another family portrait?" 

Gwen smiled weakly but didn't answer as her daughter continued on. "Well, I have to hand it to you Aunt Natalie, you're really exposing my mother to a whole new world. If you two see anything you like enough to buy, I'd love to see it." 

"I don't see why not," Natalie replied as she glanced at her sister, a sly smile on her face. Gwen frowned and subtly shook her head, hoping she would get the hint and let it drop. 

The return to the barn was made mostly in silence, Natalie and Alison just enjoying the peace and quiet of the forest, Gwen on guard for anything else that might be said while worrying over what would become of their traditional swim—or shower, the Slut needlessly reminded her. 

There was nothing more than small talk as the horses were groomed. All three mounts were turned out in the paddock, and Alison turned to the older women. "Don't you usually take a swim after you ride?"

Again Natalie was the first to answer. 'Well, yes, as a matter of fact we usually do..." 

"Well, it's certainly hot enough today. I'm going in—how about you?"

Natalie smiled. "That would be nice, but I didn't bring a suit today."

Alison laughed. "Well, I'd let you borrow one of mine, but I don't think it would even come close to fitting you up top." She eyed her Aunt's chest meaningfully. "And I'd say swim in your underwear, but it looks like you forgot some of that, too. So, just take your jeans off and come in with us—Mom, you're going in too, right?" 

Natalie laughed. "That's nice of you, kiddo, but I need to get to work early today, anyways. Gwen, alright if I use your shower?" 

The panicked woman brought herself under control enough to squeak out an "of course." Natalie smiled again and started for her truck. Alison and her mother continued on to the kitchen and were pouring two glasses of sweet tea when Natalie joined them, duffle bag in hand. 

"Use our shower," Gwen insisted, "there's more room." 

"Ahh yes, the party shower," she replied with a smile, and disappeared down the hallway. 

Their drinks led to lunch, and sandwich fixings had been laid on the table when a wet-haired Natalie reappeared. "Let me make you something to eat," Gwen offered, hurrying to the refrigerator for tomatoes." 

"Nah, that's alright," her sister replied a she poured herself a glass of tea and downed it. "Gotta go." She hugged her niece, then Gwen. "I'll call you later about Friday, okay?"

The blushing woman nodded furiously, anxious to end this part of the conversation. She watched from the kitchen, relief her dominant emotion, as her sister got into her truck and pulled away.

"Swim?" Alison repeated, not waiting for an answer. "I'm going to go get changed." 

"I'll be along in a minute," her mother answered, putting the last of the cold cuts away. "Can you grab some towels from the linen closet?"

Alison's door was open just a crack as Gwen walked by, her daughter visible inside, back to the door and pushing her jeans down her legs. She averted her eyes as black panties came into view and continued on to her bedroom, stopping short when she reached the entrance. 

Wedged between the pillows on the crisply made bed was a cream-colored penis, a yellow note stuck to the shaft between the head and testicles. Gwen shut the door as quickly as she could without slamming it and ran to her side of the bed. Questions and answers flooded through her whirling mind. Where had it come from? Natalie. It had to be Natalie. Why? Hopefully the note would explain. Had Alison seen it? The towels she had been asked to retrieve were in a closet just outside the now closed bedroom door. With trembling hands she reached for the dildo. It was not as lifelike as her other one she decided, not that she was any expert on the real thing. It was not as long, but certainly wider, her fingers unable to meet her thumb after wrapping around the smooth shaft just beneath the flared head. Her other hand delicately removed the note. 

For when you need more than one

-N-

Gwen's brain frantically tried to decipher what that meant. She certainly was not going to put that thing in her mouth—she doubted her mouth could open wide enough—and her bottom would most certainly never have anything going in it, much less this behemoth. One to share, the Slut wickedly pointed out. Gwen quickly stuffed both dildo and note in her drawer, suddenly fearful Alison might enter unannounced and find her mother holding a fake penis. 

Gwen fought to control her nerves as she considered her one-piece as a display of modesty before her resolve weakened and grabbed for the bikini hanging on the back of the bathroom door. 

Alison, in her own two-piece, was waiting for her in the kitchen, holding two towels. "Ready?" 

Gwen studied her daughter for any sign that she might have seen what had been on her mother's bed. The pair made their way up the hillock and into the cool water. They soaked for a few moments, neither moving much, just enjoying the late summer sun beating down on their heads while their bodies luxuriated under the sparkling surface. 

"Mom, can I ask you something?" 

Gwen's rollercoaster of panic again left the loading station and began its climb. She had seen the dildo! "Uh, sure, what?" 

"If you and Aunt Natalie swim after you ride, why doesn't she just leave a suit here, so she doesn't forget it?"

The rollercoaster car stopped its ascent. "That's a good idea...I'll suggest it next time."

Something in her would not let it stop there, however. The Slut, anxious to perhaps shock the young woman, momentarily gained control and the car lurched upward again. "Actually, honey, she doesn't usually wear one." 

The young woman turned to her mother, a smile on her face. "Really? Like as in, not wearing anything at all?"

Gwen closed her eyes. "Nothing at all," she replied as her knees collapsed and she sank under the surface to avoid looking her daughter in the eyes. "Please keep that between us though, alright?" she continued as she surfaced, eyes still closed as her hands pushed the water away. 

"Will do," Alison laughed. "How do you feel about that? Does it offend you?" 

"No, not any more. I was shocked when she first did it, but I've gotten used to it. To tell you the truth, I usually don't wear one any more, either."

Her daughter's eyes grew wide. "Holy cow, Mom! Really? You?"

"Really. Me. Does that offend you?" 

"Not in the slightest! Just surprising, that's all. I mean, I always wondered where KD and I got the nudist gene, what with you and Daddy being so conservative and all..."

"Wait, what do you mean by 'nudist gene'?" 

We've been skinnydipping for as long as we were allowed to be up here alone, any time you weren't home, and sometimes when you were," she said with a grin. "Guess we didn't need to be so discrete about it. Does KD know that you do?"

"You did need to be discrete—at least back then," Gwen said with as much calm as she could muster. "As for your sister, I think I gave her a pretty good idea when she was home before school. And if there is such a thing as a "nudist gene", you got it from your father."

"He likes to go bare ass too, huh?"

"Alison Marie Nelson! That is your father you are talking about! But if you must know, yes he does. Once again, I would appreciate it if you kept that between us. That would be very embarrassing if anyone found out."

"Alison Marie Cubinski," her daughter teased. "Not a word, I promise. So, if you and Aunt Natalie like to go au naturel, why didn't you today?" 

Gwen paused. "Well, I think your Aunt was worried about what you might think." 

"Oh, I see. So IT was an grown-up-only thing today."

"No—yes! But, it's just not something you normally do with your niece around, even if she's an adult."

"Well, I think that's dumb. It's just the human body—I've seen plenty of 'em." 

Gwen was tempted to ask her daughter just how she had seen "plenty of 'em," but the Lady insisted she really didn't want to know. 

Alison's eyes flashed mischievously, another gift of her father's genes, Gwen knew. "Well, since we're both adults, do you mind if I lose mine?"

The Lady shrieked her protest—this was most inappropriate! Gwen struggled to squelch her. "If you feel more comfortable that way, honey," she replied, wanting to be the hip, cool mom she had promised herself to become. The words were barely out of her mouth before Alison had the knot behind her neck undone and the cups hanging loosely against the mounds beneath. Alison slipped the top over her head, her exposed breasts mirror images of the woman's watching her. Gwen was still surprised when her daughter stooped and the bottoms emerged from beneath the surface, joining the bra on the pool deck. "Much better," the naked young woman announced. She submerged and pushed off the bottom towards the other end of the pool. Her mother stood watching the refracted image of her daughter's naked bottom gliding beneath the surface. 

Alison came up by the far wall and turned back to Gwen. "Don't worry about me if you want to get rid of yours."

"No, I'm fine for now, honey," Gwen replied. In truth, she was tempted, and a bit envious of her daughter's freedom, but the idea of being naked in front of her daughter still smacked of perversion . 

"Am I making you uncomfortable? If I am, I can get dressed." 

"No, no, you're fine, I'm still a little shy, is all." 

Alison smiled and turned on her back to float, firm breasts pointing into the air, droplets clinging to the small vee of dark hair between her legs sparkling in the sunlight. Alison's body was truly beautiful, a younger, more attractive version of her own, Gwen had to admit, and she wondered if she could have looked half that good at that age if she had tried. You did look that good, the Slut reminded her, you just worked like hell to cover it up. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 03



The pair lazed for a quarter hour, daughter floating and idly paddling while her mother stood in place as her upper body dried in the sun. By silent agreement, both left the water, wrapped themselves in their towels and made their way back down to the house. 

"Have fun with Aunt Natalie at the photographer's," a now-dressed Alison told her as she was leaving. "Love to hear what you think, and I definitely want to see anything you buy."

"Oh, I doubt I'm going to buy anything," Gwen demurred, "just going to keep your Aunt company."

"Have fun, anyways. My mother, enjoying a day out without a horse between her legs," Alison chuckled as she descended the deck stairs, "who'd have thought?"

What would you think if you knew why Aunt Natalie and I are going to Barry's, Gwen wondered as she walked her daughter out to her car and continued on to the office to check messages. The "gift" from Natalie was on her mind also, and she intended to examine it further after the office had been taken care of.

The dildo was forgotten as The Lady chastised her for not being there in person to take the urgent delivery call she was now listening to on the machine. Gwen hurried back across the yard to change into clothes presentable on a jobsite. The part requested in the message was delivered in person after she had pulled it from their inventory and hurried into town.

Walt and Andrew were the first truck back that afternoon, returning from an emergency residential call and only moments behind Gwen's return from her errand. The other two trucks returned sometime after that from the condos, dusk descending as the last parts and tools were pulled from them for the weekend. Tim was the last out of the garage, shutting off the big fluorescents and closing the overhead doors as Cliff's truck backed away. 

Gwen watched her husband trudge across the yard in the last light, jeans and blue work shirt barely discernible. His path was curving to the left, she noted, away from the house and towards the pool. He disappeared beyond the edge of the house, and she had a good idea what he was up to. By the time she had climbed the stairs, beer for her husband in one hand and a towel for him in the other, he was in the water, clothes discarded in a pile by the gate. 

"You read my mind—thanks," Tim said as she knelt by the pool's edge to hand him his beer. Gwen retreated to a nearby lounger and sat on the edge while her nude husband remained submerged up to his chest. "Hell of a day," he said as he pulled on his beer. "Broke a couple of things we're going to need to replace. Mike needs to work on being gentler on the tools. Hot as hell in those condos, too—they haven't cut the windows yet."

"That's too bad," Gwen sympathized. "Leave me a list of what you need and I'll start pricing them out on Monday." The stars in the moonless sky and the low lights around the pool were now the only illumination. An idea came to mind, a way to make his day better. Gwen looked around, the treeline already dark, the barn and workshop marked by the splash of floodlights under their eaves. They had made love in broad daylight in the middle of a popular lake. This was much less risky. She began to unbutton her shirt. 

Tim took notice. "Coming in?"

"Not yet. Anything else happen today?"

"He took another swig of beer. "Oh, a shouting match between Charlie and one of the other contractors about who gets to park their truck where. I had to break it up."

Gwen's shirt and bra were now gone, her slacks soon to follow. "I hope the other guy wasn't as big as Charlie. I'd hate to get in between that."

"Yeah...coming in now?"

"Not yet." Gwen moved back into the recliner and leaned back, letting her legs fall to either side, far from the edges of the chair. From his vantage point, Tim had a clear view of his wife lying back in the chair, legs spread wide for his inspection. Entranced, he climbed from the water and began to dry himself, his manhood already showing signs of shaking off the effects of the cold water.

"You just gonna sit out here for a while?"

"Well, if you like, I can go inside and finish dinner for you. Or I can stay out here and...do whatever you like." 

"Out here? Aren't you worried someone will see us?"

"We'll hear them first, right?"

Tim needed no further encouragement. "Right." He had a clear idea of what he wanted, and moved astride Gwen's midsection, his freshening cock inches from her face. She gladly took his offering in her mouth, tongue bathing the spongy head before her lips slid further down the shaft. Her husband's hands rested gently on the back of her head as his torso impulsively flexed and tried to drive his length into the engulfing warmth of Gwen's mouth. 

"Touch yourself." 

Gwen looked up at her husband questioningly, never removing him from between her lips.

"Touch yourself," he repeated, "play with your...pussy." 

Tim looked back down at her, waiting to see how she might react to his use of such a vulgar word. She had come such a long way in these few short months, but the experience of all those years before was not easily undone. 

Her hand snaked between his legs, and Tim could see the muscles of her arm contract ever so slightly as she began to do his bidding behind him. Gwen continued to look into her husband's eyes as her tongue again bathed his length, looking for his approval. Tim smiled, groaned, and pushed forward again. 

It was some time before Tim removed himself from between her lips and shuffled backwards, poised over her hips. Gwen jerked her hand away from her sex, old beliefs reflexively forcing her to hide her shameful touching from his gaze. 

The naked man towering over her did not seem to notice as he brought one leg up and over her thigh, then the other, until he was standing between her widespread legs. Tim slowly lowered himself until his straining erection hovered inches from Gwen's opening. "Put it in."

She glanced down quickly and her hand found the dangling cudgel. Tim's hips again flexed forward even as she aimed, the hot length sliding along her fingertips as she withdrew them before his pubic bone trapped them against her body. 

Gwen quickly discovered the lounger dictated a unique angle for their joining, one that was especially effective on her sensitive clit. Tim's slow thrusting gave her climax time to build, a long, slow climb as the sounds of the night mixed with her husband's soft grunting while he bent to his task. The thought of offering her face to use for his pleasure played in her mind; could she dare and would he accept? The perversity of the act made her want to try it, but the feeling of his body against her mons was too good to give up. Some other time. Tonight she happily allowed him to push into her.

Her orgasm did not sneak up this time. She both heard and felt it well before it arrived, her blood pounding in her ears as the first waves began to radiate from her sex. She was only dimly aware of Tim's release as she came, his strong pounding suddenly stopping with one last effort to deposit his seed into her womb.. 

"Now I'm ready for a swim," Gwen announced as Tim's breathing calmed and his penis softened and retreated from her warm folds. He rose and accompanied her, lazily wrapped in each other's arms until the two naked bodies made their way back to the house and bed.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 04



Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 




Tim was up at first light the next morning, on his way down to the condo job site to meet Cliff and make a last check on their work before the drywallers began in the first of the buildings on Monday. Gwen had risen with him to ensure he ate before he left, one of his old workshirts her only cover as she moved about the kitchen.

"Thinking of posing again?" Tim laughed, grabbing her by the waist as she stood at the counter. Worn jeans pushed the tails of the shirt into the crevice of her bare bottom. "Or just trying to get me to stay home this morning?" A hand snaked around and began to stroke her stomach. 

"You said you like me in this," Gwen explained as she wiped at the surface with a sponge, "and I would love for you to stay here. You work too hard. But I also know that this shirt might delay you for a little bit, but will definitely not stop you."

He laughed, but didn't argue her statement. She decided now was a good as time as any to talk to him about her upcoming trip to Barry's. 

"And speaking of posing, is it alright with you if I go with Natalie to Atlanta next Friday?" 

Tim's breath caught at the thought that his wife was going back for another session. "Atlanta? Like to where you went last time?" He asked hopefully as his hand stopped mid-circle just above her mons.

"Sort of. To Barry's studio this time, Natalie's posing for him," she hurriedly explained. "She just wants me along for company." 

His hand crept down a fraction, a couple of fingers now into the top of her thatch, then froze again. "Same kind of photos?"

"Racier, I guess." Gwen tempered her urge to tell him his sister would not be the only model with the desire to leave her some privacy. 

"Brave girl," Tim offered. "But she's got the looks for it. So do you. Maybe something you want to try again some time?"

The Slut guffawed at the idea her own husband was unwittingly suggesting she pose naked with another woman. "Oh, I could never do that again, once was enough," she said over her shoulder at the face just inches from her neck. "Didn't you like those?"

"I did, very much. That's why I can always hope for more." 

"Well, don't get those hopes up. Natalie's much braver than me." Despite her declaration, the thought of revealing all for the camera again sent a shudder of excitement through her. Maybe just delaying his departure would be enough to satisfy her growing desire. "So, are you going to stay home this morning?"

Tim laughed and backed away. "I'd love to, but I'm sure Cliff's got things to do, too." Gwen's confused look back at him prompted him explain further. "He's meeting me there, remember? But, I'll hurry home if you're still gonna be dressed like this."

"This would be a fine outfit to be in if one of your friends stopped by to borrow another trailing motor," she grumbled. "How about I wear whatever you think would be best once you get home." 

"Trolling motor, I've only got two, and I'm not loaning out my other one," he laughed. "But I'm all about compromisin'. I'll hurry home, dear."

The shirt was exchanged for barn clothes after his truck had disappeared down the driveway, and she made her way out to tend to the horses. The Slut teased her with crazy ideas while she mucked stalls, of perhaps posing again for Barry someday as Tim had suggested. The idle fantasies grew bolder. Maybe Liz would be unable to make it, and she would be asked to fill in...

Don't be absurd, the Lady chided. Exposing yourself for a stranger to lust over—out of the question! And what you and Natalie have been doing in private is bad enough! No one else needs to even have a hint of that!

You've exposed yourself before, the Slut reminded her. You liked it, and your audience liked it. Gwen angrily tossed the last forkful into the wheelbarrow. The fantasy was certainly appealing, and the long-practiced moral obligation to resist the temptation irritated her. Her imagination had also rekindled what Tim had awakened that morning, and she wondered how long she would have to wait before he would be back to satisfy it. 

He's more likely to want me if I don't smell like horse manure and sweat, she told herself, and headed for the house and a shower. Gwen thoroughly soaped her breasts, nipples hardening from the attention before stepping back under the warm spray. The handheld nozzle was used to rinse the suds from between her legs, the pulsing jets making her tingle long after the soap was gone. Gwen reluctantly shut off the water and dried herself. The debate over what to wear raged as she absentmindedly drew the thick towel over her erect nubs and between her upper thighs. She had more or less promised Tim his workshirt would be featured when he arrived; would it be more prudent to dress appropriately until she heard his truck, or at least knew he was on his way? 

On the other hand, the Slut suggested, there was no telling when Tim would be home; it could be tonight if they found any serious problems—he would never leave his work in a less than finished state. Maybe she should take care of herself now and let him have his way with her when he did return? Satisfying her growing need would certainly allow her to devote her full attention to satisfying his lust later...perhaps now would be a good time to examine Natalie's most recent gift more closely. 

It was still in her nightstand where she had thrown it yesterday. Gwen delicately picked up the faux penis and removed the sticky note after again briefly considering Natalie's mysterious message. It was hard to believe they made these thicker than the one she already had...her practical side tried to compare its diameter to the various PVC sections currently in the workshop storage.

The electronic trill of the telephone on the nightstand made her hurriedly drop the dildo back into the drawer and slam it shut as if to hide the rubber cock from the caller. 

It's just Tim, calling to tell you he's on the way home, she told herself. "Hello?"

"Hi Gwen, it's Adam." 

She panicked, her first impulse to ask her brother to hold or call back so she could be appropriately dressed. The Slut snickered at the idea that she had to presentable for a phone call. She compromised by juggling the phone from one ear to the other as she reached for her robe. 

"Hi Adam, how are you?" A sudden sense of dread swept over her. Her brother rarely called, preferring to text or talk face-to-face whenever possible. "My ears are sore by the end of the week from holding a phone up to them," he once explained. So, why was he calling now? The Lady triumphantly presented the likelihood that he found the friendship between his sister and his wife distasteful. Or maybe Natalie had not been completely truthful enough with her husband? Gwen had preferred not to think about the possibility that maybe he had not known about some of their activities. 

"I'm fine, Gwen, everything OK up on the hill? How's the business?"

"We're all good here, business is great—Tim's at a job site right now, as a matter of fact," she answered warily as her heart pounded from the rush of nervous adrenaline. 

"Good, that's good," her brother replied distractedly. "Listen, Gwen I just called, to, uhh, I just called to say to thank you for going to Atlanta with Natalie next week." 

"Oh, uh, you're welcome?" The panicked woman desperately tried to sort the implications of what she was hearing. 

"I would have gone with her myself, but I think Nat was worried she and Liz wouldn't be able to, uhh, concentrate if I was there. I'm just glad there's going to be someone with common sense and their clothes to keep an eye on things. Barry seems like a nice enough guy, but you never know...and Liz is definitely the alpha female when she and Natalie get together. No telling what she might put my wife up to." 

"I'm sure everything will be fine. Barry was very professional when I—" Gwen stopped, unwilling to admit to her brother what he probably already knew about her own experience with the photographer. "Anyways, I'm glad to hear she told you I was going. I wouldn't have felt right about it otherwise."

"Oh yeah, Natalie has never been one to hide things from me. Made it very clear how she was when we first started seeing each other and has been very open about ...things...ever since. Speaking of which," Adam hesitated, his embarrassment apparent. "It's probably a really good idea that Mother and Dad not find out just how good friends you two have become, if you know what I mean."

Gwen fought the urge to vomit. He knew! A part of her was relieved—she truly didn't want to cheat on her own brother like that—but the idea that he was aware his wife and sister were doing "something" just seemed so wrong! And now it was out in the open.

"Well, I'm glad she told you about that, too. I'm—I'm sorry," Gwen managed to mumble. 

"For what?" he replied nonchalantly. "To tell the truth, I couldn't believe it when she first told me—I mean, you always struck me as a younger version of mother when it came to things like sex. Hell, I just assumed you and Tim hadn't been, you know, together, since you got pregnant with KD. So when Natalie told me you weren't quite the Ice Queen everybody saw in public and asked if I was OK with that, I have to admit I was floored. Look, I don't know the details, and I don't want to know. When Liz and Natalie are together, I get the complete play-by-play because I'm a guy, and it's fun to think about. But I asked Nat not to tell me any of the details between you two—it's too weird to be thinking of your own sister like that, know what I mean? You'll always be my big sister who used to chase me out of her room when I tried to take your horse dolls for my action figures to ride." 

"Those were sculptures, and very valuable." 

Adam laughed. "Well, like I said, it's best if you two keep your, umm, extracurricular activities on the down-low. Dad would probably think it's just another example of Natalie trying to somehow wreck the law firm, and mother, after she recovered from the heart attack she'd almost certainly have over the news, would try to have Nat killed for setting up the Curran family for ridicule by the town's most prominent citizens." 

"Oh, Dad wouldn't possibly think that," Gwen half-heartedly dismissed. On the other hand, she thought, Adam's prediction of her mother's reaction was probably too mild. 

"Are you kidding? Dad knows Nat talks with the staff at the firm–he thinks she's trying to agitate labor unrest. I think the only reason I got made a partner at the age I did was to keep me in the family business and make it harder for me to be on the side of the employees. I mean, first Steven goes to the West Coast to work for somebody else, then you get a manual-labor job and fail to marry some promising young talent for the good of the firm. I'm sure he thought Natalie was going to use her womanly charms to convince me to quit and become an ambulance chaser, or God forbid, a public defender!" The silence was proof enough his sister knew he was not far from the truth.

"So, does Tim know?"

Gwen's answer wavered between defiant and apologetic. "Yes." 

"Good. And he's OK with it?"

"He says he is, yes." 

"He's a good man, Gwen. He loves you and deserves the truth. Trust me, I've been part of this long enough to know that it only works if all parties are consenting and agreeable. I know mother freaked out when you decided to marry a man who unclogs toilets for a living, but even she admits now that he's a decent, upstanding small business owner. I even heard her compliment you two to one of her friends at the country club, about how you built a successful business despite having a working-class husband as a partner."

"Tim built the business. I just did the books and made him dinner," Gwen objected. "But don't worry, the last thing I would ever want is Mother and Dad to know about me and Natalie being friends...really good friends. I think it drives them crazy just to see us talking nicely to each other during Sunday dinner."

"Well, anyways, your secret is safe with me, and the details are safe from me. Hey, I gotta go. Golf with clients at noon."

"Thanks for calling, Adam. I appreciate it. It really made me feel better...about all of this."

"I was the one calling to thank you, remember? Take care."

"You too." 

Gwen sat on the edge of the bed for some time, lost in thought. Nobody who knew the secret of the depths of her depravity seemed to judge her harshly for it, even those who should be most offended. She was the only one who was concerned with the erosion of her moral fiber. 

You have good reason to be concerned, the Lady argued. Good, upstanding people don't act like immoral perverts! 

Maybe good, upstanding people do, the Slut countered. They just don't make a big deal of it, and the world doesn't see how much variety there is in other people's lives. 

Time slipped away as the debate raged on. The sound of the business phone in the kitchen finally broke her spell. She hurried down the hall and caught it just before it went to the machine.

"Nelson Plumbing, may I help you?"

"Nelson Plumbing, here too, and probably for a while. Hey Gwen, it's me. Some of the first units we did haven't survived the other guys that were in after. Got some odds and ends to do, gonna be a few hours. ."

"Well, that's not good. Do you need me to bring anything down?"

"Nah, we got everything on the truck. Be home as soon as I can. Are you still wearing what you had on when I left?"

"Tim! I would rather Cliff not hear about my clothing choices!"

Her husband laughed. "He won't if you speak quietly. He's a couple of units down, checking the stuff we did Friday. It's just me and you in this basic corner condo with wall studs and no air-conditioning."

Gwen smiled as the flicker of a scandalous thought began to grow. It might be fun to wipe the almost-certain-to-be-present cocky smile off her husband's face. "Well, in that case, then no, I'm not wearing it. I'm not wearing anything at all, if you must know." She decided the robe only constituted a small fib. 

His tone of voice told her she had succeeded. "Really? Where are you right now?"

Where else would you be if you were naked, the Lady shouted. What kind of woman did he think you were? "The office. You know the air conditioner in here just doesn't keep up." Another small fib to really put him—and the Lady-- back on their heels. 

"Holy shit! I'd better get to work. I gotta see this!"

"It will be here when you get home. Don't hurt yourself hurrying through the repairs." 

"Gonna be hard to concentrate..."

"Try. I'll see you when you get home. Love you."

"Love you, too." 

Gwen wondered what to do next. She had grocery shopping to do, but she also promised to be waiting for Tim when he returned, whenever that was. There were certainly other chores to be done around the house, there were always chores...there was also a need that had flared and waned throughout the morning. She really should take care of her own business now, all the better to completely focus on her husband's satisfaction when he was ready. Gwen gave in and headed back to the bedroom.

You certainly didn't have these interruptions to your day when you kept your perversion under control, the Lady grumbled. The Lady squealed in delight at the thought of another orgasm. 

Gwen took her time, pulling out her various toys and laying them on the bed as a surgeon might lay out their operating instruments before shucking her robe. She lay still for a few moments, fingers gently caressing her bare skin, quieting the Lady's feeble attempts to rouse her and get the laundry going while the Slut began to conjure lurid images of Gwen in increasingly obscene situations. Her touch flitted over erect nipples and the thickening patch of hair on her pubic mound, retreating then advancing again to her erogenous zones. 

Somebody could be watching you through the bedroom window right now, the Slut suggested, a thought the ever-practical Gwen knew was not possible. Her shades were always closed whenever she showered or changed, but her left eye quickly opened to confirm the assumption nonetheless. The Slut was undeterred. But what if it was open?

Gwen rose and went to the window, peering out between the wooden blinds to check for visitors before pulling the shade up and returning to the bed. Her eyes closed and a stranger—no, two—now peeked in as her fingers resumed their travels. 

The naked woman's legs spread enough for a hand to gently push a digit down along her furrow, delicately brushing across the lips that lay just beneath. The finger continued on to the skin between her sex and her bottom, stopping just short of where it would need to push between her cheeks to continue on. It began its trip back up and dipped into her opening just deeply enough to pick up some of the moisture that had been collecting then spread it across the tops of her lips before quickly circling her clitoris. 

Her finger continued to make passes up and down her slit, pushing in more deeply each time and only stopping once her cheeks prohibited any further travel while the fantasy men at the window watched with interest. 

Gwen began to relish the halting of her finger so close to the most dirty and forbidden of places that lay tucked underneath her. It was such a nasty act, a slutty act, to touch yourself there, she told herself, and I'm so close to it ...distant memories of Miss Ritter's dalliances "back there" supplanted the faces in the window. She had forgotten her surprise of just how sensitive her rosebud was when her instructor had first caressed it all those years ago, labeling the pleasurable sensation as particularly wrong and perverted and blocking them out. And now those memories had been unlocked. Temptation overtook her. Gwen spread her legs and tilted her hips to give her finger access and let it slide across the wrinkled muscle.

Long-ignored nerves jumped at the feeling of skin and she could imagine the muscle contracting at her touch in a lewd wink just as she had made Miss Ritter's do. Contact made, her finger retreated to her sex to pick up some moisture and spread it around her puckered ring. Her other hand found her clitoris and began to circle it with an extended digit

The pure perversion of what she was doing was driving her to her climax, but she wanted more. The hand tormenting her clit left and groped to her line of toys, finding the latest addition on feel alone and bringing it into position between her legs. Gwen paused, aware her fingers were not even close to wrapping around the massive tool and suddenly doubtful the cudgel she held would fit inside her. Nonetheless, she was determined to try and carefully began to part her lips with the bulbous head . Gwen could feel her opening stretch to accept the tapered length as it flared to its full circumference, bulling its way towards her womb until the cock's base bumped up against the fingers that were still caressing her rosebud. 

She felt full, not uncomfortably so, but enough so to make her wonder if she had found her limit. The nerves about her opening vied with those just a few inches below as to which opening could send the stronger waves of pleasure. Her clit cried out to be in on the action as well. Gwen left the dildo lodged inside her—no chance of that going anywhere, she mused—and reached for the Magic Wand. Even on low, the steady throb of the vibrator proved to be the piece that took her over the edge. She had the presence of mind to remove her hand from between her legs as she thrashed through her orgasm, vibrator pushed against her slit and dildo remaining firmly in place despite her silent convulsions.




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 04



The wand was switched off as she lay on her side and recovered, very aware of the massive object inside her but not yet willing to remove it. She also felt a pang of remorse as she knew her lust had overcome the repression of the memories of being touched back there, and knew that it had opened a door that would be difficult to close again. 

Hard labor around the house was the salve for the shame and embarrassment Gwen felt over her perverted act. She was still at work when the sound of Tim pulling into the driveway floated through an open window around dinner time. Her first instinct was to stay dressed as she was in jeans and a blouse and pretend she had forgotten her promise to her husband. Her weakness was not his fault, she finally decided, and reluctantly shed everything to return to the shirt she had been wearing when he left. Tim found her in the kitchen wiping down the counter. 

"Hi Honey—nice shirt!" he said as he breezed in and kissed her. "Sorry to see you got dressed again—was that before or after you came back from the office?" 

"Oh-uh, after," Gwen replied, recalling their earlier phone call and guessing on the answer he wanted to hear. "You wanted me to wear the shirt, and a deal's a deal, right? Would you like dinner now, or...later?"

Tim took her in is arms, the smell of sweat, grease and acetylene wrapping about her as well. "Cliff gave me a great idea. How about you and me have a date night?"

"A date night? What do you mean?"

"A night we go out on a date together," Tim answered slowly, smiling. 

"But, we're married! We don't date any more."

"Nothing says we can't. C'mon, let's go out tonight."

"Alright, I guess. After dinner. Where did you want to go?"

"I was thinking we pick up some dinner on the way—grab a pizza to go and something to drink."

"I guess that's alright, but where are we going that allows us to bring food?"

Tim smiled again. "How about the drive-in?"

Gwen hesitated. What is it about today and visits to my forgettable past? "The drive-in? Didn't that close years ago? They run a flea market out there now." 

"The property got sold last spring and the new owners did a complete refurb on it. Cliff and Cheryl went there last weekend, said it was a lot of fun. How about it? Some pizza and a movie under the stars?"

"Well..." Gwen remembered the one and only time she had ever been to a drive-in. She and Tim had been seeing each other for a month when they went on a double date with Charlie Mortenson and his future first ex-wife. Gwen had heard rumors about what really went on at drive-ins, but still thought it strange that Tim was driving Charlie's Crown Victoria when he picked her up, the car's owner and his girlfriend Beverly in the back seat. 

Darkness fell and the first movie had barely started when the unmistakable sounds of...something...began to come from behind her. Gwen didn't dare look back at the couple, but she could guess what was happening, and continued to happen, for the rest of the movie. Tim and Gwen stared ahead in embarrassed silence, his arm around her shoulder as they held hands, while moans, sighs, and what could only be described as squishing noises came from the back while the vehicle occasionally bounced and shook on worn shocks. It was not until intermission that the back seat quieted and the couple announced their desire to head home. 

Tim had been unable to look Gwen in the eye as the pulled to a stop in front of the stables, a mumbled apology his only words as he walked her to her door. The incident was never mentioned again, and another double-date ever suggested.

"Just us two," Tim said with a nervous grin, seeming to read her mind. 

"Sure, why not, if you want. Sounds like fun," Gwen told him without much conviction. 

"Great! Let me hurry up and take a shower, while you get dressed, unless you wanna wear that." He arched his eyebrows suggestively. 

"It's not the kind of advertising for Nelson Plumbing that we want if I get caught. Go take your shower while I find something more appropriate for a drive-in." 

Gwen's residual shame from her earlier weakness was temporarily forgotten, replaced by a vague sense of disappointment that Tim had foregone his opportunity to use her body for his pleasure to sit in a parking lot and watch a movie instead. She selected a pair of light khaki pants along with a sensible blouse, sweater, and underwear, and was ready to go by the time her husband had gotten dressed. 

The smell of the warm pizza on the jump seat behind them filled the cab as he headed across town. Dusk was fast approaching when he pulled up next to the drive-in's ticket booth. Their entry was paid for and a parking spot was selected a short distance from the snack bar—"too close and the lights make it hard to the see the movie, too far it takes forever to get to the bathroom," Tim explained—before the pizza was brought forward and placed between them on the big bench seat. Tim reached back again and produced napkins, a bottle of wine and a red plastic cup for Gwen. For himself he held a beer. 

Tim filled her in on the mishaps of the day at the job site while she listened attentively, truly interested in what he had to say. For her part, his inquiry as to how she had spent her day was answered with a noncommittal "you know, chores." 

The spaces filled up around them as they ate, families with children closer to the snack bar and playground, the teens and young couples further back and around the edges. Cars pulled in on either side of them, Gwen looking down from her perch in the four-wheel drive truck into the driver's side windows of the sedan next to her. Night was falling fast, and she could just barely make out the lap of the driver in the gloom. Tim put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. "You seem a little more comfortable this time," he finally ventured. 

Gwen stiffened briefly at the mention of that date many years ago. "There's no show going on in the back seat," she replied evenly, never taking her eyes off the movie.

"True enough," Tim laughed nervously. "Man, was I embarrassed that night."

"That makes two of us. We both should have guessed why Charlie wanted to sit in the backseat in his own car."

"It was like watching a car wreck," Tim mused. "I mean, I was in on the plan and all that, but seeing how uncomfortable it made you—"

Gwen looked up at her husband. "Wait. There was a plan?"

In the screen's light she could see him smile weakly. "Well, I always warned Ali and KD that young men have two heads, and that they tend to think with the small one..."

Gwen sat up, and he feared their second trip to the drive-in was again turning into a disaster. "What does that mean?" 

"Nothing, nothing...look, Charlie got to pestering me a little while after we started seeing each other about what you were like in bed, and I told him the truth, that we hadn't done anything, that you were shy, just to shut him up. He started laughing and said that all you needed was some inspiration and set up the double date, and he and Beverly would put on a show in the back seat, and that would make you so hot that you'd be all over me." Tim chose not to share his friend's more explicit wording, how he had declared "that frigid little bitch will open her legs for you as soon as she hears how much Beverly likes my cock in her."

"So you knew what he was up to? Whatever made you think that would be a good idea?"

"I dunno...young and desperate, I guess. I really wanted to get to know you better without all those clothes in the way. Like I said, thinking with the small head. So, I went along with it. I knew it was a bad idea as soon as they started, but what could I do? It was his car, and there was no hose to turn on them. I was surprised you even let me hold your hand ,which by the way I did to keep you from getting out and running away screaming. I wanted to crawl under the seat the whole time we were there, then when we dropped you off at your apartment I really thought you would never see me again, and then was got really, really pissed off at myself when I got home."

"Those were the same things I felt that night," Gwen admitted. "I mean, I never looked back—not even once!—but the noises coming from the back seat, and then when you dropped me off, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me again after I wouldn't do any of that.. I was so relieved when you called to ask me for another date. I remember thinking that my mother was wrong—not all men just wanted sex."

"Yeah, well," Tim growled before taking a long pull of his beer, "I hate to admit it when your mother's right, but she might have been at least a little right on that one. I was pissed off for a couple of reasons when I got home, Gwen. I was mad that I made someone I cared about a lot that miserable, but what really got me was that I jacked off imagining what would have happened if that stupid plan had worked. I mean, here I am feeling bad about what I put you through, all the while I'm thinking about what you what it would have been like if it had worked. Probably the first time I ever jacked off and felt bad about it when I finished." 

Gwen snuggled herself back under his arm. "I know the feeling," She murmured. "You really gave up a lot for me. Thank you." 

Tim laughed. "For what? Being a horn-dog teenager with one thing on his mind?" 

"For having choices, and choosing me."

"Easy choice."

They were silent for a while, trying to follow the mindless comedy on screen. Gwen remembered how angry she had been with herself that night, how Charlie's plan to "inspire" her had come so close to working, how she had wanted to give herself to the man next to her...the thought of taunting Charlie with a view of the body he could not have had briefly flared in her that night as well before the Lady soundly squashed it. She also quickly shot down the temptation to touch herself and produce a much-needed orgasm as she stood in the middle of her studio apartment that night, wondering if that was the last she had seen of Tim Nelson. Would life have been different if she had been able to overrule her morality that night?

Their lips met, drawn together by the silent communication developed by those who have spent their life together. The kiss lingered, their bodies entwining in the confined space behind the steering wheel. Gwen gently broke the kiss, laying her head on his shoulder. "So, what did you imagine us doing in Charlie's car, when you were, you know, jacking off?"

Tim managed to suppress a startled laugh as he heard his formerly prim-and-proper wife use that term. "Do you want me to tell you, or show you?" Let me show you, he begged silently. Please, let me show you.

Gwen looked about nervously, ensuring they were alone. "If you think it's safe, I'll let you decide." 

He smiled. "Okay, but remember, I was just a dumb kid back then, so my imagination was pretty limited. I didn't even know what a girl looked like nekkid," he deadpanned, wondering if Gwen would call him on his girlfriends before her. "So, first I would have kissed you..." Their lips again met. His hand slid over her waist and hips, gradually making its way up until it palmed her breast. He was content to squeeze and fondle the tender flesh for a few moments until it slid down and began to unbutton her shirt from a point near the top of her pants, undoing them until it was open to the top. 

Tim teased her ear and neck with his tongue as the hand found its way to her bra-covered breast , again gently caressing and squeezing. Slowly it made its way to her back and began to fumble with the clasp. 

"Want me to do it?" she asked as his struggles continued. 

"No, let me—I never did get much practice at this." 

Gwen's eyes darted about as he worked, looking for a sign they had been discovered until the restraining garment popped free and his hand slid under it and back to the front. 

"And what was I doing?" she asked as Tim pushed the loose bra up and ducked to take her now-exposed nipple between his lips.

"Most of the time, you were just letting me do whatever I wanted. I had a hard time imagining you being too aggressive—it just didn't fit you. But when I was really worked up, sometimes you unbuckled my pants and played with it." 

"Most of the time? How many times did you think about this?"

Tim seemed to hesitate, whether he was thinking or embarrassed, she wasn't sure. "Well, I thought about it a lot until we did a little bit of the real thing." 

"But that wasn't for a long time—until after we were engaged!" She had touched him "down there" a few times after they had announced their intentions to marry, and had allowed him to reciprocate a couple of times, but they had never been less than fully clothed with each other before their wedding night—and even then, the lights had been out and the motel curtains drawn.

"Yeah, from then on I focused on that, but until then..." his tongue flicked her erect nipple. 

Gwen reached for his belt buckle, intent on being the girl in his fantasy. It was undone with less effort than her bra clasp had been, and the button on his jeans soon followed. She could feel a wet spot on his shorts as she reached for the hardness lying underneath them, then found the waistband and slid her fingers underneath to find the source of the leakage. 

Tim groaned at her touch and left her breast. Straightening in his seat, he nudged her into a semi-reclining position on the big bench seat. His efforts on the button and zipper of her khakis was quickly rewarded and his hand was soon free to slide beneath her panties and cup her sex.

Gwen's face now hovered over her husband's midsection as his finger began to push its way through her furrow. She clumsily tried to support herself with one arm while the other hand tried to lever his underwear away enough for her lips to descend around his covered erection. Tim noticed her struggles and withdrew his hand long enough to help push his jeans down around his knees before dashing back to the warm, wet burrow between her legs. 

Gwen's own hand, now freed of its struggle with Tim's underwear, happily grabbed his erection and pointed it in the direction of her mouth. She hungrily descended upon his length while his finger stroked her clit. 

She came up for air after a few moments, her hand continuing to stroke as she admired his shaft. Gwen pushed her fist down to the balls and pointed the velvety head towards her lips, ready to again capture his length. 

Even in the relative dark of the cab she could see the first spurt erupt from the tip just inches from her face and startled as the bolt flew past her cheek in a blur. Gwen instinctively aimed the thing trying to put her eye out away from her face, and the next several jets leapt into the air and landed in Tim's pubic tangle as his hips thrust up into her clenched fist. After a last grunt and push, he relaxed. 

Gwen kissed the tip of his wet head and began to sit up.

"Sorry 'bout that. I knew I was close, but I thought I had a little more to go. Wait—you didn't..." Tim said, his finger wiggling between her lips suggestively. 

"No, but that's alright, you did, and that's what was important to me," she told him, gently removing his hand from her underwear and kissing the back of it. "Is that what you imagined?" 

"Pretty much, yeah, although I wasn't so quick on the draw when I was thinking about it back then. Guess that's left over from being young once, too." He looked around for napkins to dry the wet goo at the base of his wilting cock while Gwen hunched over behind the dash and began to put her clothing back together. 

"I think we used all the ones the pizza place gave us," she explained, reading his mind. "Do you keep any in the glove compartment?" A smile and a shrug told her that was unlikely. "Boys. Always unprepared." She quickly set the bra back into place and began buttoning her shirt. "Guess you'll just have to wait until you get home."

"Drive home with wet shorts? Wouldn't want to chafe. I'll just stay this way until I dry off."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I'll go to the snack bar and throw the dinner trash away so the police won't think we've been drinking and driving if we get stopped. I'll pick up some napkins while I'm there." Tim smiled, shrugged, and put his hands behind his head, making it clear he was quite happy to wait until she returned. 

Gwen checked one more time to ensure her clothing was properly arranged, collected the remnants of dinner and stepped out of the truck, carefully opening the door to avoid exposing her husband. Beside her, a mass of blonde hair could be seen in the lap of the driver. She averted her eyes and gently pushed the truck door shut, anxious to not make her presence known. Two bare feet were pressed against the partially rolled-down back window, a bobbing naked backside visible between them while a soft feminine "uh---uh---uh" came from inside. Gwen hurried from between the vehicles and towards the snack bar. 

She discretely deposited the trash, unsure what the drive-in's policy was on outside food and liquor, then grabbed for a handful of napkins on a nearby shelf. 

"Oh, hey sugar, y'all got somethin' on your collar, y'know that?" Gwen whirled to her left to find the owner of the voice, a big-haired, big breasted woman. The ruby-lipped, gum-smacking blonde put down her soda, pulled a napkin from the dispenser and dipped it in her drink before taking a firm hold of smaller woman's collar and scrubbing at the offending stain. 

"Oh, uh, thank you," Gwen replied, anxiously searching her memory for what she might have spilled. "Must have been from dinner." 

The blonde smiled as she worked. "Hope ya got somethin' else to eat, cuz you didn't get much of this from the looks of it. Most if it ended up on your shirt. Gotta watch where they shoot, honey, they can make that stuff fly a fair distance if they're inspired."

Horror filled Gwen as it dawned on her where Tim's first pulse had landed after it had rocketed past her cheek. She fought to the urge to pull away and run from this well-meaning stranger. "Remember to put stain remover on it when you get home, somethin' that works on protein. Next time just take your shirt off and put it someplace safe 'til the movie's done, or he is." She smiled brightly, gum still cracking. 

"Thank you," Gwen mumbled and hurried back to the truck. She clutched the wet spot to mask it from any other observant moviegoers as she hurried among the parked cars, mortified to think that others may have spotted it at the snack bar before her good Samaritan had. She ducked into the space between the truck and the car beside them. The feet were still on the window, but the naked bottom had d stopped its bouncing and the accompanying soundtrack had ceased as well. In the front seat, the blonde hair seemed to be moving with more urgency. She hurriedly opened the door to her refuge and found Tim in the position she had left him, hands still behind his head, flaccid cock now resting on his thigh. 

Gwen mopped up the remains of his orgasm—at least whatever the blonde hadn't gotten, she thought with great embarrassment—and they headed for home. His efforts to get back into her slacks were resisted in the name of safety until they were in their driveway.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 05



Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Natalie pulled into the Nelsons' yard mid-morning on Friday, well after the trucks had left for their jobsites. The normally outgoing woman seemed to avoid eye contact with Gwen, mumbling a 'g'morning" as they hugged before she ducked around the vehicle to the passenger side, making it clear she preferred her sister to do the driving that morning. Gwen smiled in acknowledgement, climbed in through the still-open driver's door, and buckled up. 

Natalie stared straight ahead, knee bouncing in a steady rhythm as Gwen accelerated down the two-lane road. "So, I'm guessing Tim knows where we're going?" 

"Yes," Gwen answered truthfully. "I didn't feel right about not telling him the truth about this."

"No, I suppose not...he doesn't think I'm a bad person, does he?" 

"Of course not! He said he thought you were very brave, and that you had the looks for it." 

"He's sweet. I felt a lot braver when I first said yes...and I'm not sure I was thinking straight when I agreed to do this."

"You'll be fine. I'm sure Barry won't ask for anything you're not comfortable with."

Natalie laughed. "That remains to be seen. It's one thing to get a little naughty in front of friends and the occasional passerby. It's another to have it captured on film for a stranger paying for the privilege."

"Did he give you any idea who it is that commissioned these?"

"All he would say is some guy who made a lot of money in oil and wants something special to liven up the walls of the game room in his ski lodge."

"Well, did Barry give you any idea what, uh, how, how he's going to ask you to pose?" 

"Not really. All he said is that it would most likely be along the same lines as the session Liz did for him a little while back."

"And how was that?"

Natalie looked over at her sister and smiled bashfully. "Oh, that's right. You never saw those, did you? I was there when they were being taken, kinda like why I asked you to come today. It was her and an African man—I forget his name now. I do remember he was very tall and very thin, taller than Liz, and his skin was every bit as dark as hers is pale. Barry said he was looking for some synchronicity in their body types that would be contrasted by their skin color...anyways, he had them showing way more than enough to make his point very clearly. They both started out naked, and he put them in some really suggestive poses. Artfully done, of course, not like a porno mag shoot or anything, but still...man, it looked like they were doing each other without actually doing it, know what I mean? Liz swore the guy never got his dick inside of her, though. I'm sure he would have liked to. That man was hung! His cock was hard even before she dropped her robe, and was huge by the end! He was leaking pretty good after a while and Sandra had to keep drying him off, not that she minded, I'm sure. If she had kept at it a little longer she would have had needed a mop to clean up. I'm sure he jacked off when he was getting dressed just to get it back in his pants."

"Oh, my," Gwen breathed as she tried to concentrate on the road. "I guess that is pretty explicit. Still, you'll be posing with your best friend, not some stranger. Does Barry know that you and Liz, are, uh, you and Liz are close?"

Natalie laughed. "Uh-huh. When he asked her about doing a shoot with another woman, she told him she wanted me. He told her what he was thinking of and why that might be a problem, and she let him in on the secret." 

"Well, being with a friend makes it better, right?"

Natalie put her hand on Gwen's shoulder. "It's always better when you're with friends. But on camera...I'm not so sure about this yet. I just wish I had rubbed one out before I said yes to Barry, rather than after. This seemed like a much better idea when I was horny."

"It'll be fine," Gwen again reassured her, not convinced herself. "You'll be great. I'll bet you and Liz will forget the camera's even there." And maybe we'll watch you" rub one out" on the way home, like you did last time, the Slut suggested. 

"That's going to be hard to ignore, if Liz's first shoot is any indication," Natalie laughed. "You know how Barry is about getting in the middle of things to make sure every shot is just the way he wants it. He actually reached in a couple of times and repositioned the guy's cock at Liz's shoot. Didn't seem to bother him a bit. Made the guy kinda jumpy, though."

The SUV grew quiet save for the hum of the tires on the pavement, each woman lost in their thoughts. "Adam called me last Saturday," Gwen finally said in a quiet conversational tone.

"Yeah, I know. He said he was going to. He thought it was a nice thing for you to do, come along with me like this. I think he also wanted to clear the air. He knows you 're a by-the-rules kind of person and might have been stressing about things." 

No, nothing to stress about here, the Lady harrumphed. Except your family and friends and reputation if they find out just how far you've sunk. "Well, that's nice of him. But going with you is no problem, really. It will be nice to see you take your clothes off." Gwen's hand flew to her mouth, shocked by what she had said. "Oh—oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like it came out! I meant instead of me! Like the last time we did this!" 

Natalie laughed. "No problem. I think I know what you meant, but if not, I'm very flattered."

Gwen lowered her voice. "Adam also strongly suggested I not let our parents know about...well, just how close we've become." 

Her sister laughed again. "Well, duh! Your brother can be a regular Captain Obvious sometimes. They'd probably think I was doing it just to embarrass them in front of the town's elite."

"It makes me feel better that he knows," Gwen continued on. "I just always kind of hoped he did, but was too scared to ask." 

"Oh, I told him you and I had talked that one day," Natalie said breezily. "Don't worry, no details, but enough to give him a general idea that his sister might be showing some cracks in her ultra-conservatism. And then I let him know we were helping each other out with our grooming, and that I gave you some toys...once he recovered from the shock, he put his hands over his ears and said he didn't want to know the details, just to keep it between us!" 

The rest of the ride passed quietly, Natalie's knee bouncing steadily the whole way. The GPS eventually led them to the house where Gwen had reviewed her photos that summer. 

"Natalie! Gwen!" Barry McCall cried from the gravel path by the side of the house as they exited the SUV. "Glad you could make it! C'mon in!" Both women were bear-hugged, then led to the studio out back and invited to step inside. The photographer quickly ushered them through the small lobby and into the large open space beyond. The bedroom stage Gwen had remembered from her last visit was gone, replaced by a towering gray backdrop of fabric. A low wooden bench sat on the flagstone floor before it, the dark wood with scrolled ends reminding Gwen of some sort of ancient altar. Off to the left, a young man was fiddling with a tripod-mounted video camera, while beyond him sat several director chairs. Liz, wrapped in a fluffy white robe occupied one. The statuesque redhead put down the glass of wine she held and she made her way to the late-arrivers. Natalie and her friend embraced, and Gwen was surprised to receive a surprisingly firm and lengthy hug as well. 

"Glad you showed," she said to the newcomers. "I've been here for almost an hour. I was afraid you were going to chicken out." 

"We're ten minutes early, despite my driver's cautious ways," Natalie retorted with a smile and a glance at her sister. 

"Better to get here in one piece," Gwen mumbled in self-defense. 

"Liz, we'll need to touch up your—" Sandra came bustling out of a room off to the side and stopped short. "Natalie! You made it!" She hurried to add her hugs to the new arrivals. "Liz has already gone through makeup, so it's your turn when you're ready. Would you like a little something to eat or drink, dear? I've got some things in the other room. "

"Don't think I could keep food down at the moment," Natalie confessed as she motioned to the wineglass Liz had retrieved. "But I will have what's she's having."

"Of course! C'mon in and I'll get you a glass, then we can get started. Don't worry, you'll be great! Gwen, would you like something? We have plenty."

"I, uhh, maybe a soda or something..."

"Right this way, then." Sandra took the younger blonde by the arm and led her away, Gwen trailing uncertainly behind. 

"Alright, honey, why don't you take your top off and sit in the chair while I get your wine. We'll get your hair done, face painted up and work our way down. Natalie did as she was asked, pulling her t-shirt over her head and revealing the lacy white bra beneath. She sat in the stylist' chair and gratefully took the glass Sandra handed to her. "Sorry about the manicure," she said apologetically as she held out her hand. "Nursing and long nails don't mix."

The older woman plopped down on a nearby rolling stool and positioned herself between her makeup table and her subject. "Don't you worry about a thing," Sandra reassured her, glancing at the outstretched fingers. "A little nail polish and they'll be fine. We'll get to them in a little bit." She worked quickly, applying eyeliner and rouge, carefully softening the sheen of the nervous woman's skin while Gwen stood by and watched . After a vibrant shade of red lipstick, was applied, Sandra rolled back a bit and looked at her work. 

"I think we're close to what Barry's looking for," she pronounced. "We'll have him take a look at the whole package once we're done and let him decide if any final touch ups are necessary." Natalie's hands were grabbed firmly and the offending nails examined before being covered with a polish that matched the lipstick in intensity. "Alright, stand up and turn around. Those nails are still drying, so let me take your bra off for you. " Natalie flashed Gwen an embarrassed smile while the stylist reached up and unsnapped the younger woman's support. The thrill of seeing her sister unveiled fought with Gwen's shame in looking in the first place. "Alright, turn back around. Let's see if the girls need any attention." 

Sandra eyed Natalie's breasts critically, her eyes even with the globes of flesh a few feet away. "As beautiful as I remember them," she said absentmindedly as her attention was momentarily drawn to the makeup table behind her. "I'm going to make them stand out a little more from a color standpoint," she said as her finger began to dab into a small tin she had retrieved. "We'll leave it up to Barry as to whether he wants to see them pop the other way later." The stylist's finger began to gently smooth around Natalie's right areolae, spreading the color around the bumpy pink skin. "Nothing too shocking," she mumbled as she worked, "just want to bring your natural pink out a little more." The process was repeated with the left, the nipples on both breasts standing erect by the time the woman had finished. "Nice," she said, smiling up at Natalie. "I think I got it just right. Okay, let's see the rest." Sandra didn't bother to ask for permission as she unsnapped the clasp of the shorts, undid the zipper and pushed the fabric down the woman's legs. No underwear, Gwen noted, not even a thong. Such a daring thing to do so far from home!

Sandra never rose from her stool, gently pulling on the naked woman's hip to have her turn in place, the action sending a shiver down Gwen's spine as her own dreams of being examined in the same manner bubbled into her consciousness. Natalie flashed another weak smile as she again faced her sister. Gwen's eyes were drawn to the abundance of hair between the woman's legs, a verdant patch of dark blonde curls and strands. Natalie continued her turn, stopping with her bottom to the woman in the corner. 

"Wow, you two took Barry seriously when he asked you to grow it out some, huh? Well, good job with that—easier to take some off than add it back—but I think you're going to need a trim. Liz did, too." The stylist began to make some adjustments to the chair beside her. Satisfied, she rolled in front of it. "Alright. Sit. Oh, hold it a sec." Sandra reached behind her and grabbed a small basin. "Gwen honey," she said, offering the bowl to the startled woman, "can you go get some warm water for me? I'll probably just need to do a little razor work, not much. Barry will show you where the sink is."

Gwen quickly set her glass down and took the basin, anxious to help. "Be right back," she called, and hurried off on her urgent task. 

The photographer was fiddling with a bank of lights. "Uhh, excuse me, Barry? Sandra asked me to get some warm water for her?" 

He turned and flashed a warm smile. "Down the hall, other side of the lobby. There's a bathroom down there." 

"Nat needs a haircut, too, huh?" Liz smiled at the woman. "Shouldn't be surprised. It's amazing how fast it grows." 

"It really is," the nervous woman agreed emphatically, and hurried off. 

Gwen found what was she was looking for and debated just how hot the water should be before settling on hot but not unpleasantly so, then hurried back through the studio and into the changing room. She stopped short at the sight of her naked sister, semi-reclined with wineglass in hand, legs pulled up and spread wide while the older blonde worked intently just inches from the junction of her thighs. 

"Uhh, Sandra, I've got your water."

Thanks, hon. Just put it behind me." Gwen did so, taking the opportunity to surreptitiously check the progress the stylist had made in her absence. The wild bush she had glanced earlier had already been tamed into a tighter vee, vaginal lips again plainly visible beneath the soft blonde fuzz that remained. Gwen caught herself staring and looked up at Natalie to find her looking back, eyebrows raised with a quizzical smile. 

"I think it looks better—like that," Gwen offered to explain away her rudeness and went to pick up her soda. 

Sandra finished her cuts and made quick use of the razor, then applied the warm breeze of a blow dryer while she casually fluffed the remaining patch. Satisfied, she switched off the dryer and examined her work. 

"Just a little more color, I think," she said as she intently examined the area exposed by her trimming. The stylist again reached for the contents of the tin and dabbed some on her finger. "Pardon the touch." Gwen watched with interest as the finger dipped forward and began to spread the color on the exposed folds of her sister's nether lips. Natalie glanced down before stoically staring forward into the mirror opposite her. "Good luck making those elephant ears disappear."

"Not lookin' to make 'em disappear, lookin' to make 'em pop out," Sandra muttered as she worked. 

"They look fine," Gwen reassured, feeling the need to offer support. "Very feminine."

"Like mudflaps on a truck," Natalie grumbled. 

"All...set. Gwen honey, one more favor. Can you ask Barry to come in and see if his subject is the way he would like her?"

"Uhh, of course," Gwen stammered, the spell broken. She only had to go a few feet past the doorway to find the photographer. "Excuse me, Barry? Sandra would like you to come look at Natalie." 

"Always a pleasure!"

Gwen retreated back into the room and out of the way of the large man. "Some makeup, trimmed her pubes, a little color to her nipples and pussy lips, nothing too major," Sandra announced as he entered. "Think I took enough bush off?"

The photographer peered over the glasses perched on the tip of his nose, inspecting his wife's workmanship. "I think we're good. A comb through the hair on her head and we'll be good to go." He turned to Gwen. "Could you ask Liz to come in? I think they're ready for wardrobe." 

"Of course." She retreated, uncomfortable about summoning the elegant woman from afar like a child to the dinner table. 

"Liz?" she said softly as she approached the chairs. "Barry asked if you could come in now to get your wardrobe."

"Okay, thanks. Can you hold this?" The tall redhead handed her the half-empty glass. Gwen watched the woman as she moved towards the room, the confident sway of her hips making even the cotton robe seem sexy. She stood there alone, wondering if she should follow along. 

"Excuse me, Miss?"

Gwen whirled to find the source of the voice, the young man who had been working on the video camera earlier, now seated behind a laptop. "Mrs.," she corrected, stopping short of giving her name after the Lady issues a strident warning about anybody knowing she was here. Politeness won out over secrecy. To hell with it. "Nelson. Gwen Nelson." 

"Hi Mrs. Nelson, Chris Martinez. Are you modeling later?" 

"Me? Oh, goodness no. I'm just here, uhh keeping my si—my friend company."

Well, that nice of you. Sorry, you just looked like the type Barry shoots for some of his other clients." 

"I'm hardly model material."

"I would strongly disagree. Anyways, would you mind playing one for a bit and sitting on the bench over there? I want to see if my camera setting are going to work in the light Barry's gonna use." 

Gwen hesitated. "I thought this was going to be still photography?"

"I'm Barry's videographer. For weddings, family reunions, special projects. Today, he wanted to do a 'Making Of' sort of documentary. He'll take the stills, I'll take the video of him taking the stills."

"Oh, I see. Just sit on the bench? I don't have to take my clothes off, right?" Gwen instantly felt stupid for asking the question.

Chris laughed. "Not unless you want to. I just want to check for shadows, white outs, that kind thing."

She carefully set down the drinks she was holding and delicately took her place on the low wooden bench, knees together, hands primly folded over them. Above and to her left and right, two cameras, evidently remote-controlled from the laptop the young man was sitting at, whirred as lenses focused and bodies turned to test their range of motion.

"Great," the young man said as he looked up from his screen. "Would you mind going around behind it and standing?" She did as he asked, unsure what to do with her hands as she stood in place. "Very nice. Now, if you could put your hands on the bench—that's right, bend over—and bring your face up?" Gwen assumed the pose, wondering if she was giving the young man had a view down her buttoned blouse. "Excellent! That does it! Are you sure you're not a model?" 

"Very sure." Are you? the Slut wondered. A swirl of white over by the changing room caught her eye. Liz exited first, a ponytail of red hair tied with a single black bow hanging down over a shimmering white silk dressing gown. High heels clicked across the wood floor she seemed to float above as she moved towards the set. 

Natalie was next, her cardinal-red gown set nicely against her shorter length of carefully-tousled blonde hair, bare feet making no noise as she padded along behind her friend. Barry was next while Sandra gathered some emergency touch-up supplies from the room.

"How do I look?" the crimson-robed woman asked in a low voice as she came to a stop, arms folded protectively in front of her. Above them, the motors of the video cameras grumbled. Neither woman seemed concerned with the videographer's presence.

"Beautiful. You both do."

Barry cleared his throat. "Alright, ground rules, ladies. Natural expressions, please, maybe even on the serious side. You wanna laugh, go ahead but get it over with. Ya wanna close your eyes and enjoy the moment, you can do that, too. You wanna look bored, well, maybe I can do something with that. But for God's sake, no porn faces! I'm goin' for a little subtlety here. And as always, excuse my wandering hands in advance—I'm not trying to get fresh, I'm just trying to get the best possible pose. Well, times-a-wastin'," the big photographer called out cheerfully. "Let's take some pitchers! Nat, stand behind the bench in the middle. Liz, behind her with your arms around her chest." Gwen marveled at the scene as the women took their place—the brilliant colors of the robes contrasting with their hair and the backdrop, the heels making Liz look almost a full head taller than her shorter friend. Barry moved Liz's arms ever so slightly so they gently pressed against Natalie's breasts, then stepped back, aimed, and triggered the camera. Again he stepped in to push the taller woman's cheek against the side of Natalie's head while having her look down at the robed-covered mounds below. Variations of the pose were tried, including one where the smaller woman's red clad arms around Liz's waist the only evidence she was behind her. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 05



"Nice, nice," the photographer murmured. "OK, Nat, give me a profile and put one knee on the bench. Liz, in profile behind her." He again stepped in to adjust the pose, then stepped back and shot from several angles. "OK, Liz, open up the top of Nat's gown and push it down to just below her shoulders..." click-click-click "Perfect. Hold that." Gwen watched Barry put down the camera and retrieve what looked like a length of leather. Alarm bells went off in her head—this didn't look right. Was there cause for concern? She was supposed to be here to watch out for her sister!

"Here," he said, handing the length to Liz, "put this on her. Slowly." 

Natalie had not been able to see what her friend had taken from the photographer, and was reluctant to break the pose she had been instructed to hold. "What is that?" she asked, a tinge of concern in her voice.

"It's a collar," Liz replied with a gentle laugh. "It's not like you haven't worn one before."

"You bitch!" she replied with her own laugh. "Did you tell him about that?"

"Nope, just your good luck. Ready, Barry?"

"Yup, go ahead. "

Gwen relaxed a bit at the sight of her sister's acceptance of the restraint. Liz did indeed take her time, wrapping the thin strip of black leather around her friend's throat and fastening the flat buckle. 

"Nice, nice," Barry called out. "Alright Liz, stay in profile, Nat, leave your robe like that and stand behind Liz." She moved carefully, trusting her breasts to stop the gown from falling into she was in place. "Great, now, reach around her and untie her sash. Slowly, with your forehead against her back while you're looking down. Nice. Now, remove her robe just like she started to remove yours. Slowly, though. Liz, chin up, eyes up." Gwen held her breath as Natalie crept through the motion. Slowly the gown made its way down the redhead's arms, inching along until her breasts appeared from their cover. Pink nipples stood out proudly, and Gwen found herself wondering if Sandra had accentuated them as well. A brief image of Sandra giving her own darker areolae flitted through her imagination. 

"OK, let it fall." Natalie let go, and the woman was revealed in all her glory. She was statuesque, Gwen thought, so perfectly toned and apportioned. Her pubic triangle was a deeper shade of the red ponytail hanging down her back, the point ending just above the hint of lips still hidden between drawn together thighs. 

"Doin' great. OK, Nat, stand in front of her, get as close as you can without touching, and look up at her. Liz, chin and eyes where they are." The two women managed to maintain the soulful look this pose seemed to require for only a moment before they burst into laughter. "Okay, okay, I like that, too. Get it together when you can." It took a few moments, but Liz and Natalie finally managed to regain some control. "Great. Alright, Nat, don't untie your robe, just let it drop to your waist. The blonde shook slowly shucked the gown from its resting place on her chest to let it hang at the sash about her hips. Gwen took careful note of how Liz's firm, delicate mounds just seemed to match the rest of her body while Natalie's heavy mounds were a fir for her fulerl figure. 

"Liz, reach down without bending and untie her robe. You can look down at her now, at her eyes. Natalie, don't stand on tip-toe, she can do it." Liz did accomplish the task, and both woman stood naked in front of each other.

"Eye contact ladies, eye contact...alright, Nat, on your knees. Liz, come forward until the tip of Nat's nose touches you." Gwen was embarrassed and enthralled to see her sister's lips resting in her friend's neat red thatch. She remembered when it had been her in that pose, in front of Miss Ritter... "Excellent, Liz, hands gently on her head, like you're blessing her, or controlling her." 

"Controlling her," Liz quietly confirmed.

"It's not your birthday yet," came Natalie's muffled response.

"Nat, hands on the back of Liz's thighs, like you're holding her in place."

"Stop that, you bitch," Liz said with a straight face as she stared ahead and fought to maintain her icy look. Gwen was shocked to catch of glimpse of Natalie's jaw moving ever so slightly, her tongue roaming, eyes looking up the body of the woman before her. 

"Don't mess up any of the work Sandra did down there," Barry warned as he continued to shoot, apparently not at all discomfited by the intimate act being performed just a couple of feet from his camera. "I don't want to break to get it right again. Alright, do a 180, Liz. Back up until you can feel her nose. Once you can, fold your hands between your breasts. Nat, your hands on the front of her thighs, pulling her in." Gwen held her breath in disbelief as the change of poses now had her sister's's lips firmly planted in between the upper cleft of Liz's bottom. "Arch your back while she pulls you in, Liz, stick your chest out, keep your hands there." The tall redhead complied, breasts and clasped hands pushing up and outward while Natalie's nose seemed to disappear between the cheeks of her friend's ass. "Nice, nice..." the camera's digital click went into rapid fire mode, and Barry continued to move the models about. "Alright Liz, turn around, grab her collar and pull up gently until she's standing. Gentle, don't choke her."

Barry's continued direction was creating a scene of subtle domination and submission. Gwen grew increasingly uncomfortable, not only with the intimacy of the session and the direction it was taking, but at how erotic and distantly familiar it seemed, and how she found herself imagining she was the one now lying down on the altar instead of Natalie, arms and legs falling to either side, while the redhead stood over her. 

Barry moved in close, camera still firing. "Alright Liz, straddle her, face her feet. Hands on your hips, look down at her crotch, give me a stern look. Good, good. Now, sit down until you're on her chest. Put your hands on the outside of her hips." Sculpted buttocks lowered until they pushed Natalie's breasts further to the side.

"So comfy," the redhead purred.

Barry laughed. "Don't squish her, crouch just a little, like you're doing a squat. Maintain your posture." The photographer lowered the camera and kneeled just inches from Natalie's thigh. "Great, you're both doing great. Okay, Liz, take your left index finger and put it just above her pussy—here, like this." Gwen was shocked as he gently but firmly put his own meaty digit in Natalie's thatch, just above where her sex began. "Like you're pointing at her clit, see?" 

His finger was withdrawn and replaced by Liz's. "On her clit, or just above it?" the redhead asked. 

"Just above it. I want to see your fingernail in her bush." The camera was moved to just a foot from the where the sitting woman finger was pressing into the prone woman's mons. Satisfied, Barry moved between Natalie's legs and again drew close to get the shot. 

"Gwen, can I speak with you a minute?" The engrossed voyeur whirled in fright, suddenly fearful she had been caught being too attentive. Sandra silently motioned the startled woman into the hallway while she reviewed her actions for something she might have done wrong. "I'm hoping you can do me a favor," the older blonde began in a low voice. "I have a potential client in the office, thinking about doing a boudoir shoot, like you did. She was wondering about what it's like exactly, though. Would you mind talking with her about your experience?" 

The Lady flatly denied the request, again repeated her warning that no one should know what she had done, or that she was even here. The Lady was intrigued.

"There's not much to say, really," Gwen demurred. "I'm sure you describe it far better than I ever could. I mean, I've only done it once..."

"And you were so very good—like you were a pro! It was so much fun to watch you open up as we went along. And that's why I was hoping you'd talk to her—she seems like such a quiet girl on the surface, but I think there's more underneath than meets the eye, like you." Sandra took her by the arm and pulled gently. Gwen relented and followed. 

"I'm still not sure..."

"You'll be fine," Sandra reassured her as they stepped into the small office and removed any chance of backing out. "Diana, this is the woman I was telling you about." A tiny young woman, probably the same age as Alison, rose from the chair by the desk. 

"I'm Gwen Nelson," the older woman said, extending her hand as the Lady threw hers up in disgust. No names!

"Kristin. LaPointe. Pleased to meet you." An awkward silence fell, and Gwen wondered how to broach the subject she had been brought in to discuss. Hi, they took pictures of me naked, I felt like a slut and loved it, and you'll love being a slut, too! No, maybe that wasn't the way to begin this...

Sandra spoke first. "Diana here is thinking of having a boudoir photo session taken, but is a little nervous about the process."

"I asked my husband what he wanted for Christmas, and he said this," the young raven haired woman offered. "I would never have thought of this in a million years, but he asked..."

"Is it something you want to do?" Gwen asked quietly.

"Well, my husband—Daniel—he wants me to..."

"Yes, but what about you?"

"I'm not a prude," Kristin quickly answered, "I mean, I've let him take pictures of me before—sorry, too much information—but he thinks a professional photographer could do so much better. I really don't think I'm a professional-quality model, though." 

"You don't need to be," Gwen told her, "I'm certainly not. But you are a very beautiful woman, and Barry seems to have a knack for bringing out the best in his subjects." Her thoughts quickly returned to the session going on in the studio behind her, and briefly wondered if the dog collar he had introduced was bringing out the best in Natalie. She quickly returned her attention to the young woman in front of her. "And I think you'd make a wonderful model. But it only works if you want to let your guard down enough to let him do that for you."

"So, you've done it? Let him take pictures of you naked?"

The bluntness of the question surprised Gwen. "I have," she answered slowly. "And yes, he probably would see all of you, if you know what I mean, but it's tastefully done, and he's very professional about it—and Sandra would be there as well. I wasn't so sure about doing it, just like you seem to be, but my husband—his name is Tim—seems to really like the results, and I have to admit, I like them too. It was a very, uhh, exciting experience." 

"I'm sure they did," Kristin told her. "You're beautiful. I hope I look half as good as you when I'm in my thirties."

Gwen smiled. "You're much, much too kind. I'm in my forties—I have two daughters, one your age, I guess, and married, the other in college."

"Two children? How did you stay in such fantastic shape? I'm afraid I'm going to turn into a fat blob when I have one." 

"The children kept me active. Our horses kept me active and sane."

"Oh, you ride? I used to, but my horse went with my mother when she moved down to the Palm Beach area. Daniel and I have an apartment in Butler, so I didn't have any place I could afford to keep him up here. I really miss riding, and I know what you mean about how it can keep you moving!"

The news she was talking with a fellow rider broke down Gwen's reserve. "Kristin, would you like to take a look at my photos and see what Barry can do?"

It took Sandra only a moment to pull up the portfolio on a nearby monitor. Gwen relived the day with the young woman as the photos slid by, only a little concerned that someone might come in from outside and see her in her most intimate poses. Kristin seemed genuinely impressed by the photographer's work and models looks, not fazed in the slightest as the scenes turned more risqué. 

Kristin looked up after the last photo, the one of Gwen peering over the edge of the bathtub. "You're right, he certainly does good work...thank you Mrs. Nelson, that certainly helps."

"Call me Gwen, and you're most welcome." She grabbed a nearby business card, turned it over, and began writing. "Call me if you have any more questions. And also, I live outside of Albany, not too far from Butler at all. If you would like to come riding sometime, by all means just let me know. My daughters' horses are still at our house and are always looking for someone to get them out of the paddock for a while. You are most welcome any time. I know how much I would miss getting out for a ride if I didn't have the opportunity."

The young woman took the card from her and studied it. "Thank you Mrs.—Gwen, that's most kind of you." 

"Think nothing of it. I'm always looking for someone to ride with. My sister—" Gwen stopped short, afraid that even mentioning Natalie might give away what was going on in the other room—"we, uhh go riding together every Friday morning. There's room for a third most of the time. I'm free most weekends too, if that works better for you."

"You've really been much too kind—thank you for everything."

Gwen headed back to the studio while Sandra showed the young woman out to her car. Barry and the young videographer was breaking down equipment, Natalie and Liz were nowhere to be seen. "All done—they're in getting changed," the photographer said as she looked about. The two women emerged from the makeup room a short time later, laughing.. 

"Hey Gwen, Liz said we can stay at her place tonight, if we want," Natalie said quietly as they approached. "You, uhh, don't have to be home tonight, do you? I don't have to be to work until Sunday."

"Oh, uhh, well, I'd have to check in with Tim, but, I suppose we could go back tomorrow...how'd everything go after I left?" 

"Went fine," Liz answered, smiling at the blonde next to her. "We'll tell you about it over dinner."



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 06



"Natalie, I don't have a change of clothes. I didn't know we'd be staying over." Her sister was back behind the wheel of the SUV, heading down the two-lane on their mission to get some wine for the evening while Liz picked up the Chinese takeout she had called ahead for. 

"I thought there might be a chance she'd ask, but I forgot to pack a bag, too. Guess I had other things on my mind. Oh well, if you can stand day-old clothes for the ride home tomorrow, so can I." 

"I don't have anything to sleep in, either," Gwen said in a quieter tone. 

Natalie laughed. "You don't need anything. Liz's daughter is with her ex this weekend, so it's just us big girls. We don't bother with much in the way of clothes when it's just us at her place."

Oh, I remember from my last overnight, Gwen thought ruefully, but said nothing. 

Tim had been full of questions about how she had spent her afternoon when she called to ask if she could stay the night. "Of course, have fun, I'll take care of things here," he had hurriedly assured her before asking for more details about the shoot. She promised to tell him all he wanted to know when she returned, and wondered whether his imagination could even begin to approach the actual events.

Liz was first at the condo, Gwen and Natalie arriving after completing their errand. Gwen had questioned the need for 5 bottles for three women, but Natalie just hushed her and laid down her credit card.

The tall redhead had changed into a loosely cinched terrycloth robe that came only to mid-thigh. Natalie disappeared down the hall as plates were produced for the containers of food spread out on the table, reappearing a moment later wearing only her t-shirt. She reached into an upper cupboard for wine glasses, the shirt riding up to expose her bare bottom, and Gwen was reminded that her sister had not worn underwear today. 

Liz made her own trip down the hallway as her guests began to fill their plates, returning with a t-shirt in hand. "Thought you might want something more comfortable to sit around in," she said, handing the garment to Gwen. 

"Oh, uh, thank you, that's very nice of you." She was grateful for the shirt, aware that she was overdressed, but unsure if she had the courage to follow Natalie's clothing choice. "Would it be alright if I use your bath room?" 

"No, you have to change right here." Liz smiled to show she was joking. "Of course. Use the guest room. Down the hall, first door on the left."

Gwen remembered the way from her first visit, closing the door behind her before examining the garment. It appeared to be a sort of athletic undershirt, half-length black sleeves attached to a grey body with a button-up V-neck. Still clothed, she slipped it over her shoulders and let it fall to mid-thigh. Despite the masculine cut of the shirt, the faint smell of perfume left no doubt it had been last worn by a woman.

"Much too short to be decent," Gwen thought, "more like a miniskirt..." She removed it along with her shirt and jeans, leaving her underwear in place. She took her time in putting the athletic shirt back on, briefly considering removing at least her bra, before the Lady insisted on some small bow to modesty. 

Liz and Natalie were sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch, around a coffee table loaded with three plates of food and three bottles of wine. "Nick always liked that shirt," the redhead smiled as Gwen rejoined them, "so I made sure he lost it when he moved out. It did look good on him; it looks nice on you too, though." 

Gwen blushed and smiled as she did her best to seat herself across the floor from them without letting the shirt shift and reveal too much. "Thank you—it's very comfortable." 

"You scared the hell out of Natalie when you disappeared in the middle of the shoot like that," Liz said as she poured the first glasses. "She thought you had freaked out and left."

"I was worried it was more than you were prepared for," her sister added. 

"I'm not sure what I was prepared for," Gwen said softly as she pushed back the annoying erotic comparisons between what she had seen and her "education" with Miss Ritter. "But it wasn't that. Sandra asked me to speak with a young woman who was thinking of having some photos taken—some like I did." 

"Yeah, Barry told us that when Nat got ready to chase you down before you squealed out of the driveway. Speaking of your photos, I'd really love to see them some time."

Gwen looked across at the redhead. "Really? They're not much."

Liz's stare made the blushing woman look down to study her rice. "Really. I heard they're beautiful. The next time you come over, please bring them." The tone made it clear it was a command, not a request.

Gwen looked up and nodded, her mood suddenly and inexplicably changing to one of irrational elation. She would be coming back! The possibility that she might be included in their little circle of friends made her almost proud. The Lady rolled her eyes in frustration even as the Slut purred with satisfaction, wondering what other benefits being part of this club might have. She quickly took a gulp of wine. "So, how did the rest of it go after I left?"

More of the same," Natalie grumbled good-naturedly. "Liz got to play dominating bitch, I played submissive slut. How much did you tell him, really?"

It was artfully done," the redhead replied calmly, looking at Gwen for her reaction. "It's not like you got spanked or pegged or anything. And I didn't tell Barry anything. I'm guessing he kind of had an idea about who would be better in what role."

"She was teasing me pretty good," Natalie groaned as her focus went to Gwen. "At one point he had me bending over that bench at the waist, my boobs dangling, and he had Liz right behind me. I thought maybe he had given her a strap-on as another surprise." 

Liz laughed. "And all you got was a little tickling from my pubes. Did that disappoint you?"

Natalie ignored the question. "And you got a pretty good handful of my tits. I'm surprised you didn't leave marks."

Gwen took another gulp of wine. "Well, I was afraid I was going to have to come to the rescue when I saw the leather collar, and I didn't know how." 

Liz smiled. "Like I said, it's not the first time your sister has worn one." 

Natalie could see the confusion on Gwen's face. "Liz likes playing control games, so for certain occasions like birthdays and divorce days, I let her be in control. You know, wear what she wants me to wear, do what she wants me to do, wait on her hand and foot, stuff like that."

"And do you, uhh, get the same present on your birthday?"

"Natalie laughed. "No, Liz doesn't really like being told what to do. Me, I can go with the flow. I like being the one giving orders more, but I can play along for a good friend." She smiled wickedly. "So I take it out on Adam after and make him my bitch for an evening. Sorry, too much information. I forget he's your brother sometimes."

Gwen raised her glass for another gulp only to find it empty. Liz quickly reached to remedy the situation. "It's alright, I know you two, uhh, have sex. You don't have to watch what you say around me. I'm a big girl." 

The dishes were cleared and the last two bottles of wine were brought in as reinforcements for their rapidly emptying brethren. The women again took their places around the table, Liz with one leg casually pulled up to her chest, threatening to make the robe useless, Natalie with her legs spread in a V under the table's surface. Even Gwen now sat crosslegged, her shirt nearly up to her waist, no longer caring if the others saw her underwear. 

"The chili sauce they use on the shrimp is usually pretty hot," the redhead declared as she untied her robe and began flapping the edges in an effort to fan herself. Gwen caught multiple glimpses of the quivering breasts underneath. "But they must have put in an extra kick this time. Anyone mind if I lower the A/C?" She didn't wait for an answer, leaving the robe untied and briefly flashing her naked ass to the woman across from her as she climbed to her feet. The robe flapped as she returned, teasing Gwen with glimpses of what lay beneath. Liz resumed her position behind the table, leg again drawn up and robe still untied, exposing a tantalizing strip of flesh from her neck down between her barely-covered breasts and on below the table's surface. 

They talked for some time after with an alcohol-induced openness, Liz and Natalie recounting the photo shoot, how nervous they had been at the start and how exciting it had been by the end, the wine making it seem only natural for Gwen to join in and admit that being on display for the young woman in the office had only inflamed the arousal that watching the two women pose had ignited.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm ready for bed," Liz announced, again giving Gwen a brief peek as she climbed to her feet. Without a look back, she disappeared down the hall. 

The two remaining women rose as well. "You go ahead, I'll clean up," Gwen told her sister, sensing her desire to retreat to the bedroom as well. 

"Leave it 'til morning, It's not going anywhere. Listen, uhh, Gwen, if you want to stay with us tonight, Liz's bed is plenty big enough," the suddenly blushing blonde stammered. "We don't mind." 

Gwen was stunned by the suddenness and enormity of the question. Both the alcohol-addled Lady and Slut tried to make sense of the offer, one shouting a strident "not in a million years!" a millisecond before the Slut filled her mind with images of three entwined naked bodies. 

"I'm uhh, pretty tired," she lied, desperate to somehow leave the door open for her to change her mind. "Maybe later?" 

Natalie smiled in understanding and stepped forward to hug her. Her hands gently rested on Gwen's rear as she drew her close. "C'mon in any time," she whispered. "The door's open—you won't be interrupting." She released the startled woman and retreated down the darkened hallway.

Gwen stood there for several moments after, weighing her options. The Lady counseled going out to the truck and sleeping there, so as to remove herself from all temptation. Natalie had the keys to the SUV, however, and it would be awkward to ask for them, not to mention the silliness of sleeping in a parking lot when there was a perfectly good bed available. She could just go to her room and close the door behind her until morning, when the wine would not be talking for any of them and calmer heads would prevail. Or, she could join them.

In the end, she decided the safe route would be the guest room, although the Slut made sure it was understood a heated masturbation session—maybe two—would be in order. The time-honored habit of making sure the stove was off and only one small light on was followed faithfully before making her way down the corridor. 

A soft light spilled out from the open doorway next to hers—Liz's room, Gwen knew. She stopped and listened to Natalie's soft laughter, again wondering what it would be like to join them. The Lady won this round, and she retreated into her room, leaving the door open as a compromise. 

The underwear's gotta go if you're gonna play with yourself, the Slut advised. T-shirt, too. She quickly stripped off Nick's shirt and carefully lay it within reach at the end of the bed, then laid her bra on the jeans and shirt she had taken off earlier. The panties were last, a sodden mess that would need to dry before she could put them on again. Even in her inebriated state, the thought of reusing dirty underwear, dry or not, seemed repugnant. She would cross that bridge 

tomorrow, she decided, but best to prepare for it now. There was an air conditioning vent set in the floor on the other side of the bed, under the window; perhaps she could set them on that for faster drying. Gwen bent over, backside presented to the door, and busied herself arranging the panties over the cool flow of air. The current quickly blew the scent of her arousal back up at her and seemed to fill the room. She briefly wondered if the others might smell it as well, an idea the Slut quickly dismissed. No, their own scent was much closer and every bit as strong.

"Uhh, Gwen?"

She straightened and whirled to see her naked sister standing in the open doorway, a purple tapered cylinder held upright between her breasts. Gwen marveled at how she no longer felt an urge to cover herself, and bowed to an irrational compulsion to check between Natalie's legs to see if any further trimming had yet been done. 

"You're more than welcome to join us," Natalie continued, not waiting for a response from the nude woman, "but if you don't feel comfortable, I—uhh, we, understand. Liz thought you might need something to help relax after the day we've all had, so...here you go." The vibrator was gently laid on the bed. "Sleep well. See you in the morning." 

"Thank you. You too. And, uhh, thank Liz for thinking of me." 

Gwen waited until Natalie's swaying bottom disappeared around the corner before moving to retrieve the toy. She twisted the knob and the vibrator rumbled to life with a noise she was certain could be heard from the other room. She fumbled to turn it off, unwilling to advertise her interest to the other women. The toy was gently placed on the nightstand and the lamp turned off as well. 

Soft light still spilled into the hallway from Liz's room, and Gwen stood near her open door, transfixed by the difficulties of her choices. All was quiet for several moments, and the possibility the two women had foregone pleasure for sleep was examined. Gwen was about to retreat to her own bed—to give yourself at least one good come, the Slut demanded, no matter what they decided to do!—when she heard a soft sigh, most likely Natalie, she guessed. The noises of lovemaking grew in intensity, sighs, groans, and laughter. It certainly sounded more lighthearted and carefree than the serious business she had experienced with Miss Ritter, and Gwen's finger found its way between her folds while the other hand gently fondled a breast. She imagined herself with them in there, entangled with them, letting herself be swept up in their perversion, and the Slut urged her to turn it to reality while the Lady maintained a tenuous hold on her remaining self-control. Instead she stood and listened until her legs could no longer support her and flopped back on the bed, where they would certainly see her if they chose to come in, legs spread wide in invitation as her fingers danced and plunged. 

She finished before they did, thankful for her training in the art of silence, her sexually charged wild abandon giving way to her more traditional need for control. Her orgasm passed, and she managed to crawl under the covers without the energy or desire to retrieve the t-shirt. The door was left open as well, the Slut making the point that if they didn't want to be heard, they shouldn't have left theirs open, either. 

Even in her satisfied state, she listened intently to the sounds coming from the next room, pairing them with visual images the Slut conjured. Natalie came first, Gwen recognizing the soft higher pitched wail, Liz soon after, grunting primally. There was soft laughter and mumbled words, and then the hallway went dark and the room silent.

The lightheaded feeling of inebriation was more noticeable as Gwen's sexual desire temporarily slackened. She had drunk far more than she should have, she knew, and it was making her behave irrationally. The Lady continued to insist she close the door and dress, but sleep overtook her before her body could be compelled to act. 

She awoke a couple of hours later, the wine beginning to wear off, a slight headache and a great thirst replacing her buzz. A trip to the kitchen for something to drink, then. Gwen rose and the wine had its last hurrah, emboldening her to take the walk down the hallway naked. The others were asleep; they'd never know. Liz's door was still open, she noticed, no sound other than the soft woosh of the air-conditioning and the steady breathing of the two women in the room. Gwen risked a look. 

The soft light from a street lamp filtering through the window's thin curtains kept the bedroom from total darkness. Sheets and blankets lay tossed about the king-sized mattress. Natalie lay on her side, her naked body facing away from the door, while Liz lay behind her with an arm thrown over her bedmate's waist in a loose spooning position. It might have been a little tight, Gwen mused, but there probably is room for me. She shook her head at the imagined perversion and turned for the kitchen. 

The nude woman managed to find a glass in the cupboard and drew some water from the faucet. Aspirin would be nice, she thought, but it's rude to poke through someone's medicine cabinets, so that will have to wait for morning. The dirty dishes in the sink gnawed at her need for order. As quietly as she could, Gwen began to load the dishwasher. 

The sound of feet scuffling in the carpeted hallway told her she had not been quiet enough. Gwen panicked, the Lady screaming about her lack of clothes, and froze in place as she realized she had nowhere to hide. 

An equally-nude Liz walked by on her way to the refrigerator. "I thought I heard someone out here," she said, apparently unconcerned with either woman's clothing choice, "mother's ears. Gotta see why Ashley's up and about after I put her to bed. I'm sure you know all about that."

Oh, yes," Gwen stammered, unwilling to face the woman. "I always woke up when my daughters got up after bedtime." 

"Ashley never gets up to do the dishes, though" Liz said calmly, taking some juice out of the fridge. "What's the matter? Can't sleep?"

"I just needed something to drink. And I saw these, and..." 

Liz laughed softly. "And you're a maniac for doing dishes at 2am. They'll wait. Go to bed. Unless there's something else you need..." Their eyes met and Gwen found herself unable to hold the contact. 

"I, uhh, could use some aspirin..."

Liz stepped behind her and reached up to the cabinet above them, her body pressing into Gwen's. Breasts dragged along shoulder blades as she stretched, the tickle of pubic hair on the skin just above the cleft of the smaller woman's bum. A plastic bottle was retrieved and placed on the counter, but the bodies remained lightly pressed against each other. "Anything else?" 

Gwen stood paralyzed. "No, no I think that's it." 

The redhead's hand snaked around to her stomach, her little finger gently resting in the top of her guest's thatch. "Go to bed," Liz said as she kissed her shoulder. "I promise to take care of the dishes in the morning." The hand was removed and the contact was broken, and Gwen was again alone in the kitchen.

The condo was silent as she padded back down the hallway, back to her room. She resisted the urge to again look in on Liz and Natalie, aware that the tall redhead might still be awake.

She slipped under her covers and fell back with a sigh to stare at the ceiling. Sleep was close, she knew, but it would be easier to find without the resurgent need making her sex tingle. Her hands traced patterns across the skin of her stomach and chest while her mind began to imagine. 

An image of her sandwiched between the two bodies in the next room came to mind, warm and comfortable and desired, with someone else's hands doing what her own were now busy at. The movie reel was abruptly stopped—too perverted, too dangerous, too close to possible, the Lady sputtered, and Gwen knew she was right. The scene switched to a more familiar one, to being on display, on the grounds that while it was still perverted and dangerous, it was not ever going to happen. 

She was there on the platform, the center of attention for many naked, faceless men, each showing their approval for what she was showing them by casually stroking their erections. A faceless woman stood above her—no, it was Liz, the Slut insisted—goading her into various lewd poses with the riding crop she held. Liz poked and prodded, opening Gwen for the crowd's view, putting her on hands and knees before again flipping her over and spreading her legs impossibly wide. Gwen was handed a vibrator as she reached for the real-life one on the nightstand, and she knew what she was expected to do. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 06



The Lady hoped the blankets sufficiently muffled the buzz of the toy as Gwen applied it to her clit, just as she was doing in her fantasy. The men now stroked in earnest, entranced by the show this slut was giving them. Big penises, small ones, fat ones, skinny ones, all shades and colors, all pointed at her but kept at a respectful distance. For the second time that night, her eyes rolled back as she stiffened and rode the intense waves of pleasure. When it was done, there was some guilt, but there was also relief and relaxation. Gwen fell asleep without even returning the vibrator to the nightstand. 

She was the first one awake the next morning, the wine's bravery replaced by a vague sense of relief that she had not followed its lure to the next room. Gwen reached for the t-shirt Liz had given her, slipping it over her head while foregoing the bra as it was now officially day-old underwear and therefore especially dirty. Her panties were harder to leave off, but if the bra was dirty, those were disgusting given their condition the night before. They were left of as well and the t-shirt would have to be trusted to cover her. 

She brought the vibrator to the bathroom with her and carefully cleaned it, then placed it on the nightstand. The difficulties of making coffee in a strange kitchen were solved in due time and soon the aroma was filling the condominium.

"Thought I smelt coffee," Natalie mumbled sleepily as she stumbled into the kitchen, not even bothering with the modesty of last night's apparel.

"Sleep okay?" she asked over her first sip. 

"Just fine," Gwen replied "You?"

"Great. Got really relaxed and slept like a baby. Liz said you had a headache and she got you some aspirin?"

Gwen stiffened. "Umm, yes, nothing serious, though. Just needed some water and some sleep." How much else did she tell you, she wondered. 

"Good, good." Natalie rose, mug in hand. "She's taking a shower right now. I just wanted to get some coffee before I hopped in. You up for going out to breakfast this morning? There's a place right down the road. We can head home from there." 

"Yes, that will be fine," Gwen stammered, watching her sister retreat. She hurriedly followed to begin her own shower, turning the corner into the hallway in time to see Natalie's naked rear-end disappear into the bedroom. 

Gwen collected her jeans and shirt then discretely closed the guest bathroom door behind her before turning on the spray and stripping off what little cover she wore. She was clean, dressed, and waiting in the kitchen for nearly half an hour before Liz and Natalie reappeared. 

The restaurant was a small informal place in a strip mall two miles down the road from the condo. Despite having examined herself in the bathroom mirror for five minutes after dressing, Gwen still wondered if any of the other patrons in the tight space could tell she was braless. The Slut wanted to know what they were going to do about it if they did. Four men sat to her left, taking turns glancing towards her table often then looking away whenever Gwen noticed them doing so. She smiled at their obvious interest in Liz and Natalie, wondering what their reaction might be if they found out what her two tablemates had done yesterday afternoon and evening, and maybe even this morning. The idea these two women, your typical soccer moms, could possess secret and scandalous alternate personalities excited her. 

And what about herself? What if these men knew that erotic pictures of her existed, that she had walked about naked in another woman's house, that she had masturbated there-twice? But they didn't, Gwen knew. To them, she was just another middle-aged mom waiting for her poached egg. She was the Lady. But the Slut had carved out her own secret world and was making it bigger by the day. And for the first time, Gwen found the prospect of helping the Slut expand her space exciting. In small, conservative doses of course, she reassured the Lady. 

They sat and talked for two hours before saying their goodbyes, already talking about their next get-together, Gwen again happy to be included in their plans. 

"Well, well, I never thought I'd see the day," Natalie deadpanned as she accelerated on to the main road, "where I'd be wearing a bra and you aren't."

"What?" Gwen shrieked, suddenly self-conscious. "How can you tell?"

"Your boobs may not be as big as mine, but they still have a nice little bounce to them when they're not strapped down. I noticed when we were leaving Liz's, and I'm sure those guys at the table next to ours noticed. They kept looking over, probably hoping for another show. I know you had their attention when we left."

Gwen looked down to ensure her buttons were properly fastened as she tried to convince herself they had actually been looking at Liz and Natalie. "Do you really think they knew I wasn't wearing a bra?"

"Maybe. Probably. Next time you should leave your collar open a little more, give 'em something to think about. Still, you may have let the girls roam free," Natalie continued, "but I have less between me and my shorts than you do." 

"Well..." Gwen answered slowly, the Lady pleading that advertising her lack of underwear wasn't necessary, the Slut anxious to one-up her more worldly sister. 

Natalie's head snapped to the passenger seat. "You didn't..." The driver's hand didn't wait for an answer, diving down beneath Gwen's seat belt and the waistband of her jeans until her fingers could go no further than the beginning of her cleft. Still, they searched back and forth...

"Hey, stop that!" Gwen cried, but did not attempt to remove the incredibly inappropriate fingers. "Hands on the wheel!" The digits withdrew more slowly than they had advanced. 

"Gwen Nelson!" Natalie said in an exaggerated tone of shock. "You done and went commando!"

"I don't like wearing dirty underwear, is all," she replied while tucking her shirt back in. "It just makes me feel like I wasted a shower." 

"You can take off the shirt and jeans if those make you feel dirty," Natalie replied slyly. "So, what did you do with your undies if you're not wearing them?"

"No, I'll manage, thank you, and they're in my purse."

"Plenty of room in that Mom bag of yours, that's for sure. 

Gwen snorted. "By the way, Tim was asking me for details about my afternoon when I called him last night. I think he wants to know how your afternoon was, too. How much are you comfortable with me telling him?" 

"Oh, you think he does, does he? That naughty boy. You can tell him however much you want. Can I tell him about your naked dishwasher loading at dinner tomorrow?"

Gwen shrieked. "First, Liz told you? Second, I completely forgot about dinner at my parents' house tomorrow, third, I thought you were working tomorrow, and fourth, don't even joke about telling him at dinner tomorrow." 

Natalie grinned. "First, she did. Second, yes, there's dinner at your parents' house tomorrow. Third, I'm working the late shift—I switched with Rosemary because of yesterday. Fourth, does that mean I can't tell him at all, or just not at dinner?"

"You're terrible." 

"Maybe, but I'm willing to bet giving him the rundown on how you got your aspirin will get you laid in a most satisfying manner the moment I'm out of sight. Stuff like that drives Adam wild." 

Gwen was at a loss for words as she again examined her buttons.

Liz thinks you have a very cute butt, by the way." 

"Will you stop that!"

Natalie just shrugged and laughed. 

****

Tim emerged from underneath the hood of his truck as the two women pulled into the yard. Wiping grease from his hands with an equally grimy rag, he ambled to the driver's window as Gwen emerged from the passenger side. 

"'Mornin', Nat. Thank you for getting her home safe."

"Thank YOU for letting her go. It was wonderful to have her along, although I don't think she got much of a chance to relax. Liz found her doing dishes at 2am—"

"Natalie!" Gwen shouted as she rounded the back of the vehicle to where her husband stood.

The woman in the driver's seat smiled. "I should let her fill you in on all the details of our little trip. I'll fill you in on anything she missed at dinner tomorrow." A smile and a wink was flashed in Gwen's direction, and the panicked woman hoped that was the signal she was joking. "See you then." She put the SUV in reverse, and with a wave, was off. 

Tim leaned in to kiss his wife, his blackened hands held in the air as a warning to keep a respectful distance. "Well, how'd it go?" he asked as he waited for her to open the screen door, hands still held high in a mock sign of surrender. 

"Oh, it went fine. Quite the production," she replied as they stepped into the kitchen. 

Tim continued on into the laundry room, to the wash basin where he kept the degreaser soap. "More than yours?" he called out from the next room.

Gwen wandered into the living room, intent on checking the messages on their home phone. "Different..." Her eyes were drawn to the leather bound photo album lying on the coffee table. "Tim? My photo album is out!"

He reappeared from around the corner, drying his hands on a dishtowel, one that would have to go right back in the laundry room, Gwen noted. His hands had to be clean, because the towel certainly wasn't. "I looked at it while you were gone. Twice," he noted with an embarrassed smirk. "I missed you. All of you." 

"You can't leave it out like that," she scolded. "What if someone comes in and see it?" 

"Sorry, sorry..." he reached for her, hands now clean. "So, how was it different?" 

Gwen retold the afternoon's events, cautiously adding details as she gauged Tim's interest and acceptance, eventually including her own private showing for Kristin, as well as the fact she had invited her to come up to ride some time. 

"Good," Tim encouraged, "that was really nice of you. So you didn't do any posing yourself?"

"Oh no, certainly not, Liz and Natalie are much better suited for that. I think they're as comfortable out of their clothes as in them. They hardly wore anything even after we went back to Liz's condo."

"Really? Didn't you feel overdressed?" 

"Well, Liz gave me a shirt that used to be her ex-husband's...it was like a shorty nightgown. And I kept my underwear on," she added quickly. 

He grinned down at her. "And when did you take your bra off?" 

Gwen blushed. "Oh, uhh, you noticed?"

"Guys tend to be able to spot the movement of free-range boobs the moment we get our first hard on. You had a little more bounce to your step when we came in the house, and I didn't feel anything underneath your shirt when I hugged you." Tim began to work the buttons for a better look. 

"I don't like dirty underwear," she again explained lamely. 

"That doesn't surprise me," he said as the shirt came open for him to confirm what she had already told him. "What does surprise me is that you like it less than none at all. The old Gwen would have gritted her teeth and worn it anyways. I like this new Gwen. So I can assume there's nothing under the jeans, either?"

"Well no..." 

Tim sank to his knees in front of her and quickly worked the snap of her pants, then the fly. Hands grabbed the waistband and pulled to confirm she spoke the truth. Gwen stood there, barely covered from the waist up and naked from the waist down to the puddle of denim around her ankles as her husband grasped her by the asscheeks and gently pulled until her sex met his lips. His tongue tickled and explored, going as far as her still-closed legs would allow. 

Tim rose. Strong arms picked her up by the waist and dropped her in the nearby easy chair before he began to work on removing her sandals and jeans. And then she was naked, legs hooked over the arms of the chair, exposed to him. Tim bent again to savor her rapidly moistening pussy. 

This would be a fine time for Alison and Jason to walk in on us, Gwen thought as she lazily ran her fingers through her husband's salt-and-pepper hair. Look kids, your parents are perverts! She was not about to stop the tongue on her clitoris to go lock the door, however. 

Tim abruptly rose again then bent to fumble with his boot laces, leaving her spread for his viewing pleasure. Boots and jeans were removed with some difficulty due to his hurried motions, but soon enough he stood there in front of her, his erect cock jutting up and out. 

"My turn?"

Gwen brought her legs together and sat up, kissing the spongy head of her husband's staff, then dragging a tongue underneath it from base to tip. Tim shivered in appreciation and lightly grasped the sides of her head as his hips reflexively twitched. She knew he was past the need for subtleties and slid him past her lips.

Tim sighed in gratitude and matched his thrusts with Gwen's efforts. He was careful not to drive too far and perhaps choke her, but his motions made it clear he found her mouth a perfectly acceptable substitute for her other treasures below. 

His hands tightened on her head as she drew back, and he removed himself from her mouth. 

"Wait—sit back in the chair."

She did as he asked, looking up at him as he again hooked her legs over the arms of the chair and stood over her, fisting his erection. He stroked himself for another minute before the first jet of pearly white cream flew from the tip of his cock, landing wetly on her shirt. Others followed, forming a line down her stomach, the last dribbles landing in her thatch. 

"Sorry—I got the idea I wanted to do that when I was looking at your pictures last night," he said apologetically. "Probably good I did it now if I was going to do it at all—you should have seen how much I let fly last night. You would have been soaked."

"Please don't apologize, I liked it," she said truthfully. "It must be a boy thing to put on a show like that. I'd like to see how much you have when you've saved it up for a while. Were you thinking about the same thing when you looked at the album the second time?" 

"Well, uh, yeah, that and some other things..." he answered evasively. Gwen wondered if the 'other things' had anything to do with her activities over the past twenty four hours, but decided to let him off the hook for now. 

The album was not returned to its hiding place until Tim, ever the gentleman, helped finish the orgasm he had started to build in her.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 07



Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Dinner the next day was in many ways the same affair Gwen had known since her childhood. Stress from the feeling she was being examined and evaluated mingled with polite boredom and distance from her mother's tales of her social circles, of who had been scandalized and perhaps knocked a rung down the ladder recently. 

There was something different today though, something that had begun to build at breakfast the day before and never left. You think I'm still a proper wife and mother, a daughter, Gwen thought as she pretended to listen to her mother's story about how the Pearsons' son had flunked out of college. But you have no idea that I enjoy being an object of desire for strange men despite already having a husband, or what I've been doing with your own daughter. What would you do if you ever found out Natalie and I had practically been intimate? There was fear in that thought still, but now excitement in the potential scandal as well. 

And what about the rest of the gathered family? She looked at each of them in turn. Did they have things hidden in their past or present? It was extremely unlikely for her mother, Gwen knew, but what about her father? Mother had always said to resign yourself to the idea that men need to cheat; did that apply to Daddy as well? And what about Alison and Jason? That was more likely; what were their secrets, and did she really want to know? 

Tim and Gwen made love that night in the familiar, predictable way they had practiced for years before the summer began. Gwen was comforted by the routine, appreciating the ability to return to what she had known with her husband since her wedding night, to the way they had made their children. The knowledge that this safe spot still existed even after her forays into more perverted practices made her content.

She stayed content until Tuesday, until the need to let the Slut loose for a bit of fun began to grow again. The Lady realized that resistance was futile and instead bent her efforts to ensuring Gwen properly prepared for the event, insisting that her normal attention to detail applied even to acts of debauchery.

Tim would be at a planning board meeting tomorrow evening, she thought, and we need groceries. Perhaps a trip to the market was in order. Not her regular one, but that one two towns over. 

Her clothing choices were also pondered. Gwen settled on a golf shirt in KD's closet that would work with what she had in mind. The extra material needed to cover her daughter's more expansive chest made the top almost baggy on her mother. A golf skirt that Alison had purchased when taking up the sport while she and Jason were dating was also selected. Gwen remembered her own mother's objection to her granddaughter wearing it where her friends at the club might see. Unlike Ali, she had no intention of wearing the shorts that were supposed to go with it. 

It was business as normal the next morning, conservative Mrs. Nelson seeing the trucks off and plowing through paperwork until a quick dash to the house for lunch. Gwen the thrillseeker walked back across the yard to the office carrying her clothes rather than wearing them, dressing moments before the first truck pulled into the yard late in the afternoon. 

Tim returned for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading back down into town. Gwen smiled and waved from the deck as his truck backed away, then headed to KD's room, to where she had laid out her clothes. 

The omission of underwear meant it only took a moment to change, the addition of white ankle socks and sneakers giving her a look that would have had her blending in perfectly at the country club. It was the look she was hoping for; no one would ever suspect someone of that social class to be running about without underwear. She also hoped the implied social status would make people pause before challenging her should she be discovered—growing up in that atmosphere had taught her that privileges of class did indeed exist. 

She bounced in front of the mirror to test the shirt's ability to disguise the fact she was braless, the extra fabric rippling in an exaggerated fashion from the motion of the firm mounds beneath. Better not jump up and down, Gwen reminded herself, then turned and bent at the waist to look back at her reflection and the hem rising dangerously close to revealing her bottom. Satisfied, and with heart pounding, she headed out. 

Gwen could feel her unfettered breasts jiggling despite the seatbelt that crossed between them as she bounced over the rough backroads towards her target. She occasionally glanced down at just how much thigh was exposed, and resisted the urge to reach underneath and give herself one quick swipe of a finger. Two hands on the wheel...

It was nearly dusk when she pulled into the shopping center. The oncoming darkness had been figured into her plan as well, a curtain for her to escape behind should the need arise. The department store next to the supermarket caught her eye; she had forgotten it was here. Much to the Lady's annoyance, her carefully laid out plan changed and there was a need to look for some clothes before groceries. 

Gwen wandered the woman's section feigning casual interest among the clothing racks before gravitating to the lingerie. She took her time studying the various styles, wondering if the bored husbands and boyfriends of her fellow shoppers were taking note of her interests, maybe even wondering what she might look like in them. Three bras that she had no intention of actually trying on were selected and taken to the dressing rooms. 

She hid her disappointment over the small and empty waiting area as the middle-aged clerk handed her a tag before returning to the rack of putbacks behind her. The arrangement of the chairs didn't leave many opportunities for those who might come along after to view the rooms beyond, but she selected a stall nonetheless, disappointed the door opened towards the back and would completely block even the most determined onlooker's view.

Still, she left the door open a crack and stripped off what little she wore, the Slut reveling in the wickedness of being completely naked in a near-public setting while the Lady shook her head at the display of mental instability. The bras hung untouched as Gwen stayed there for some time, going so far as to poke her head and upper body out the door in the hopes another shopper might perhaps come down to a stall beyond hers. The possibility of pleasuring herself right then and there was considered before reluctantly being rejected as too risky. 

It was time to go grocery shopping, she decided. It took only a moment to redress and return the bras, stopping on her way out as she passed through the shoe department. Gwen smiled and grabbed a pair of flats in her size before sitting down to try them on, her seat selection more important than the choice of shoes; at her feet was a mirror. Her legs opened and slid her skirt upwards as she bent to pull the flats on to her feet; she didn't bother to straighten it or her legs after she sat up again. A quick check in the mirror confirmed her most private spot could be seen in the reflection, dim under what little of the skirt still covered it, the profusion of curls further obscuring her cleft, but visible nonetheless. Gwen glanced about nervously, looking for any other shoppers who might be able to see her reflection, relieved and disappointed she was alone in the aisle. She modeled the shoes for a moment more, then removed them and headed next door. 

Gwen's nerve wavered a bit under the sheer number of shoppers in the store with her and curtsied demurely when selecting items from the lower shelves. She checked the skirt frequently to ensure it was hanging correctly, and considered buttoning up the open collar of her shirt. 

A stop at the custom cuts meat case was first. "Can I help you, ma'am?" A bored young man, his white coat blotted with dried maroon splotches, looked at her from across the low glass case. 

"Umm, yes, please." The Slut spurred her to greater mischief and Gwen bent to examine the selections in the bottom rack. "May I have two of those marinated chicken breasts, please?" Gwen was certain the young man would have a clear view of her dangling mounds beneath the gaping shirt if he happened to look. A quick glance up confirmed he had indeed chosen to do so, his stare focused on a spot below her face. 

"Uhh, yes ma'am," he stammered, his eyes studying the gap in the shirt intently, unaware he had been caught peeping. "Uhh, two breasts?"

"Yes, please," Gwen answered, holding her pose and pretending to help the clerk locate her selection. "Those right there." 

The young man took his time retrieving her selection as he switched his focus between the woman on the other side of the slightly fogged glass and her meat. He eventually straightened to bag her request, and Gwen held her pose. 

"Anything else, ma'am?" 

Gwen could feel her breasts shimmy ever so slightly as she shifted her weight to point to another part of the case. "Yes, please. Two of the strip steaks." She did not straighten until he had retrieved those as well. 

"Anything else, ma'am? We have some excellent rolled pork in the bottom of the case."

His attitude has certainly changed, Gwen noted with some amusement. She bent again to examine his suggestion as the young clerk stooped to show her. "No, no thank you," she said, straightening. "That would be too much for me. This will do it." 

The clerk smiled and watched her push her cart on down the aisle, pleased with his good fortune; he had gotten a good look at a nice pair of titties. Nice rack, a little small, he mused. I'd still be more than happy to wrap 'em around my dick, though. Here, take this rolled pork, lady. The young man snorted. Women can be so oblivious!

Gwen laid low through the rest of the store and past the checkout, the Lady imploring her not to press her luck in this crowded environment. One of the baggers, an elderly man, offered to take her purchases to the truck, an offer she gratefully accepted.  

"The cold things can go on the seat behind the driver's side," she told him as they reached the vehicle, "the rest can go in the bed." Gwen opened the door and looked in. "Let me make some room." She leveraged her small frame over the back seat and reached towards the other side for a piece of paper that lay there, her feet off the pavement and skirt pulled high up over her rear as her body slipped back a bit after she relaxed her reach. Gwen knew she was completely exposed to the man, from the top of her rear-end to her ankles; she wondered if anyone else might have noticed as well. The pose was held as long as she dared without seeming obvious, then her body slid back the rest of the way, the trapped skirt underneath her almost bunching around her waist before her feet hit the pavement and she backed away from the truck. The elderly man held the first bag, an expression of surprise on his face. Gwen moved out of his way and let him load. 

His task finished, she thanked and tipped him before climbing up into the cab of the big truck, exposing all of her thigh and left buttock to the man who made no attempt to hide the fact he was staring. It took him a moment to rouse himself from his shock and move away enough for her to back out of the parking spot. 

Now that's an ass, the elderly clerk mused as he collected some nearby carts, and she knew exactly what was she was showin' me. Perfect for a little spank when ya got her bent over, drivin' it home. I shoulda given it a little squeeze for her trouble.

The Lady barely managed to enforce the two hands on the wheel, two eyes on the road rule as Gwen hurried home. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her was only now disspiating enough to bring her heartrate down below wildly thumping, allowing the tingling radiating from her sex to take center stage. She did remove a shaking hand from the wheel long enough to flip the skirt up and fold it against the lap belt, her curls exposed in the dashboard lights. 

Despite the time she had spent allowing the Slut some exercise, she still beat Tim home. Gwen changed into something more conservative, knowing that at that hour Tim would most likely be too tired to take her when he finally did make it home, and was bringing in the groceries as he pulled up. Her exhausted husband helped finish the unloading, performed his nightly routine around the property, kissed his wife good night and shuffled off to bed. 

Gwen knew she could not expect him to take care of her need, and she also knew it could not wait until he awoke tomorrow. There was always the pool jet, but even though the water was warm the night was cool, and the idea of making her way back to the house naked and shivering did not appeal to her. 

There were her toys...but the risk of awaking her husband and explaining her actions as he lay next to her was not what she had in mind. There were other places in the house, certainly. Ali and KD's rooms still had their comfortable twin mattresses, but the idea of pleasuring herself in one of her daughter's beds just didn't seem right. Gwen looked at the couch, nodded, and crept down the hallway. 

She returned a moment later after pulling both dildos out of her drawer while Tim slept. Gwen left the vibrators where they were—no need for extra noise. The lights were extinguished—even the one over the stove—before clothes were discarded and she lay back. Her finger began a slow tease of her tingling clitoris as she thought back on the night's events, of the attention she had received from both clerks. Had they gotten erections? Gwen wondered if the elderly man was still able to, and if her show was sufficient to awaken him. Did either one of them touch themselves after? Were they touching themselves right now, imagining what they might be doing to her? Her mind kept going back to the older man and she was filled with a strange compassion to "make his day," to help him achieve something she had always heard grew more difficult with age. Gwen briefly pondered which dildo to use and went with the shorter, fatter one—the color and size would probably more closely match what really was between the elderly clerk's legs. 

Gwen, still bent over the seat of the truck in her imagination as she turned over and kneeled on the cushion while her breasts flattened against the sofa's arm, opened he legs enough for him to slide into her warmth as her finger rubbed her insistent clit. The dildo was soon being pushed into her sex with force as the old man in her mind picked up the pace, roughly grasping her hips while his cock remembered younger times. 

He erupted with a triumphant bellow as her own climax rocked her senses. Gwen's hand convulsively jammed the faux penis deeply inside of her, as if the man behind it was obeying the primal instinct to get his seed just a little closer to her womb.

The sound of her own ragged breathing was the first thing she recognized as she returned to the here and now, and her sex had a dull, satisfying ache from the abuse she had inflicted upon it with the dildo. If they only knew, Gwen thought with a smile as she cleaned up, if they only knew. 

***

Business was most certainly good, Gwen mused as she looked through the scheduled appointments and open invoices. Cliff was off on a few days' vacation, and if things were busy before, they were crazy with the company down one plumber. Gwen briefly thought about canceling her ride with Natalie on Friday as a show of support for the other employees who were facing twelve hour days, but knew it would be an empty gesture—the paperwork was under control, it was the actual jobs that were beginning to stack up. 

The pair fell into their normal routine that sunny Friday morning, shirts removed before they had left the barn, and everything else discarded as they made their way into the pool upon their return. Gwen chose not to share her Tuesday adventures, preferring not to appear as though she was overly proud of her actions. 

"So, you going back to the natural look?" 

Gwen glanced over from where she stood on the pool steps to her paddling sister. She knew what Natalie was referring to. "No, not intentionally, anyways. I see you didn't stay with the natural look for long."

Natalie smiled and casually rubbed her hand over her now almost-nude sex. "Yeah, Adam likes my pussy bare. Says he hates having to stop to get hair off his tongue." 

Gwen blushed at the mention of her brother's oral preferences, but said nothing.

"So, you want me to trim it up for you?"

"Uhh, okay, I guess, please—if it's not too much effort."

Natalie smiled and began to move towards the stairs. "No problem at all. Let's go take care of it now." Gwen preceded her, stepping on to the pool deck as her sister-in-reached for the railing. "Liz is right, you do have a cute butt!"

"Stop that!" Gwen protested half-heartedly, putting a hand behind her as a sort of shield before taking it away again. 

"How short you want it? Like mine?" Natalie asked as Gwen led her into the bedroom and collected some scissors and a towel.

"No, not quite like that—although I think yours looks nice," she hurriedly added, not wishing to offend her sister's choice of grooming styles, "just cut it as close as you can all over without using a razor." She put the towel down, lay back, and opened herself to Natalie, managing her embarrassment by closing her eyes. "I tried to cut it myself, but I'm still nervous about sharp things down there." 

Gwen could feel the other woman kneel at the end of the bed and gently finger comb the mass of curls before starting to clip. "It's a Curran thing," Natalie said casually as she worked. "Your brother gets all freaked out when I manscape him." 

"Oh—Adam trims down there?" Gwen wondered if it was proper to ask. 

"If he lets me do it, he does. I love the look of his cock and balls when they're completely bare and all oiled up. But he gets nervous about what it looks like when he's in the gym locker room with his buddies after basketball- says it's like a case of one of these things is not like the others, and that they'll think he's metrosexual or something like that. So, I don't get to get him all smooth and silky that often, and when I do, it costs me. Does Tim ever do some yardwork down there?"

"Oh no, at least, I don't think so. It doesn't get very long, though."

"Well, that's alright. Short ones work just as well as long ones." 

Gwen caught the reference. "I'm not talking about his thing, I'm talking about his hair! His thing is more than long enough for me." The Slut chuckled at the idea of Gwen talking about her husband's penis while another woman crouched between her open legs. My, my, how far we've come. 

Natalie laughed softly. "I know, I know, just giving you a hard time. I'm sure Tim's cock is perfect." The women fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft snip of the shears. "Hey, I wanted to apologize for that night at Liz's," her sister said softly. I know I put you on the spot with I invited you to join us. I think the wine made me a little too bold." 

"No need to apologize, it just took me by surprise, is all." Gwen's musings from the past week rushed out in a flood. "I mean, I had a good guess what would probably happen before you went to sleep, and I haven't done...that...with anyone since I got married, I mean all the way if you don't count what we did, and never with two people at once, and even if you hadn't intended to invite me to join in, which you certainly didn't have to, I still would have been there watching you, and I've never done that before either!"




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 07



Natalie set the scissors down and looked up from her work. "Did you want to?" she asked softly. 

Gwen raised her head and looked down at the serious face between her legs. "Did I want to?"

Their eyes locked as a finger was slowly drawn through her slit, the signal her trim was done. "Did you want to?" Natalie repeated.

"I...I guess...yes, I did. It was all just so overwhelming." 

"I understand," Natalie agreed, never breaking eye contact. "Do you want to now?"

"I, uhh, I..." The Lady threw up her hands in disgust. "What do I do?" 

Her sister rose from her knees. "Stand up," she ordered, and Gwen slowly worked her way off the bed as she tried to decide whether it was too late to back out. 

"Stay right there." Natalie reached behind her and grabbed the towel she had been lying on. "Be right back." Gwen stood in place, following orders, nude and shivering with anxiety and anticipation. Her sister returned a moment later, a beach towel and a bottle of baby oil in hand. 

The fresh towel was laid on the bed and pillows arranged. "Okay, lie down again. On your stomach this time." 

Gwen looked at her sister uncertainly but complied. Memories of how Miss Ritter had used much the same setup to instruct her on "therapeutic" massage flooded her, and how she had been expected to replicate her lesson on her instructor. Even the remembered smell of the liniment she used, pungent and not at all pleasant, seemed to fill her nostrils. 

The bed sagged as Natalie climbed on the bed and straddled her legs. Miss Ritter had never done that—her massages took place with the attendee lying down and the attendant standing or kneeling bedside, ready to put their weight into the effort. Warm thighs captured her own, then walked forward until her sister rested lightly atop her rear end, the warm lips of her bare sex pressed down against her tailbone. Gwen heard the bottle's cap pop open, and a squirt of cool liquid traced down her spine. 

The clean, familiar smell of the oil blew away the memory of the liniment as two hands, as gentle and soothing as Miss Ritter's had been strong and rough, began to smooth the liquid into Gwen's shoulderblades. The hands and fingers dragged and pushed, not to work the soreness out of tired muscles but to arouse the nerve endings below, to inflame her sensuality. 

The hands continued to smooth and glide, picking up oil that had collected at the base of her spine and spreading it across Gwen's back and occasionally as far as the sides of her breasts, flattened against the towel. She reveled in the touch, inviting it—both giving and receiving Miss Ritter's massages had been physical workouts compared to the sensory bliss she was experiencing now.

"Doing alright?" Natalie asked in a low voice. Gwen nodded with eyes closed and the body on her rear shifted back, resettling again on her thighs, before more oil was squirted on the recently vacated cheeks. Gwen felt a rivulet run down the valley between her globes, and then the finger that dashed in to catch it. 

The finger collected the droplet and coated the crevice with it before dropping further, down across ther rosebud to the edge of her opening, then dragging back up to spread the slippery liquid about her crinkled muscle. Gwen flinched in surprise. 

"Shh, it's okay," Natalie murmured. "I'm not going in. But your asshole has a lot of nerve endings, and is a great place to give a little attention to, if you haven't discovered already." 

She knew that, Gwen thought, but the fact she had touched herself there was still too shameful to admit. Still, she allowed the finger to work until it withdrew to allow the hand it was attached to access to her buttocks. The touch was gentle, soothing, and nervousness gave way to arousal and a sense of well-being. The body behind her again shifted, this time gently forcing its way between the prone woman's knees, and her thighs received her sister's full attention. 

Natalie's fingers dipped and swirled, pressing gently sometimes, barely making contact with the skin others, working down the insides of her thighs, ever closer to their junction, Gwen not even aware she had opened herself further to aid their travel. She shivered as Natalie's fingers reached their destination and gently stroked along the outside of her lips in unison, once, twice. 

And then they were gone, the body between her knees moving further back to apply oil to her calves and toes, Gwen nearly sighing with disappointment. The feel of her sister's fingers running between her toes brought more excitement. 

"Roll over, sweetie," Natalie said in a low voice. Gwen did as requested, looking up at her nude sister as she hovered above her and applied a line of oil from the base of her neck to just above her freshly cut thatch. Her sister-in-law's right hand gently began to spread the liquid, soon joined by the other hand as they worked ever closer to her breasts. 

And then they were on her mounds, spreading, kneading, caressing, occasionally teasing an erect nipple before moving again. Gwen watched in fascination as her breasts were gently pushed and pulled, fingers exerting enough pressure to leave brief marks before they met as a loose fist to squeeze her tender flesh. "You have beautiful tits, so firm," Natalie murmured as she paid them homage. 

Her sister moved from her spot between Gwen's legs to kneel beside her, one hand still gently caressing her mounds while the other spread the oil on her stomach. It circled and swirled a little lower with each pass until fingertips casually brushed through the short hair of her mons. Gwen's legs spread further in invitation, and Natalie accepted. Her palm was firmly planted on the fleshy pad above the aroused woman's sex as a finger found her slit and curled up until it made contact with her clitoris. The touch was electric, and her hips twitched. The finger circled and stroked, occasionally dipping down to push deeply between her lips before coming back. Gwen had the feeling as though she was being made love to by herself, the touch so familiar and right on target with her desires, but with a hand was working independently of her nervous system. Her hips began to twitch and buck more urgently, and the hand curled down, the heel of her palm putting pressure on her clit while a finger drove inside her and curled back to reach for her G spot. 

"Come for me, honey. I want to watch you come." Natalie's fingerfucking became more forceful, the rocking of her palm pushing waves of pleasure out from her sister's clit as her finger pushed deep into her opening. Gwen's thighs involuntarily locked about the torturing hand, trapping it in place as her climax built. She was dimly aware of her right nipple being gently twirled between two fingers, and wished that Natalie had a third hand to tease the other one with.

Her orgasm was somehow different than anything Miss Ritter, Tim, or even her own hand, had ever given her. Not better, not worse, just...different. Its intensity was very familiar, however, and she stiffened and twitched until her muscles began to ache with fatigue. She eventually managed to loosen her grip on the hand between her legs, but did not release it. The finger inside her gently stroked, a pleasant feeling as her pussy twitched through its last spasms. Gwen went limp.

"Welcome back," Natalie said with a soft laugh. "Have a nice trip?" 

Gwen looked up at the smiling woman and smiled back in appreciation. "That was wonderful. Thank you." The Slut lay sprawled on one shoulder, the Lady silent and glaring on the other. Even without prodding from her prim and proper alter ego, she knew it was only polite to return the favor. "Let me help you now."

Natalie smile and pulled back her hand as the thighs holding them opened. "Thanks sweetie, but if I leave now, I'll just make it to work in time. Marjorie's got the whole weekend off starting as soon as I relieve her, so I don't want to be late. But I will take a raincheck—I'd love for you to do me the next time we ride, okay?" 

"Oh—alright," Gwen replied, relief in not being asked to perform mixed with disappointment in not being able to do so. "Can I make you something to eat while you're getting ready?"

Natalie was already off the bed, kneading and massaging her breasts with both the leftover oil and Gwen's juices. "Nah, thanks, though. Be right back," she called out over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway, still rubbing her tits, "gotta get my clothes out of the car." Gwen followed, watching the naked woman go out to her SUV to retrieve a bag. She dressed in the kitchen while Gwen looked on, deciding not to dress until her sister was seen off. 

"Wow, you've got some powerful thighs, lady," Natalie said as she shook her hand in mock pain. "Wasn't sure I was getting this back." 

Gwen blushed. "Sorry. I guess I just lose control when I feel that good."

Natalie snorted. "Lose control? I've never seen someone so under control when they're coming. It looked like you were trying not to sneeze." She kissed her sister on the cheek. "Gotta go. Same time next week?"

"I'd like that." 

"Great! I'll call you to see how things are going." 

Gwen stood on the deck, still nude, and watched Natalie drive away. She dressed and made her way back to the office, guilt over her debauchery while Tim and the others were working so hard hanging over her. Despite her efforts to concentrate as she sat behind the desk, she stared at the far wall as her mind wandered. 

She had taken the next step with Natalie; significant and inevitable, both Lady and Slut decreed, though for different reasons. It was not the first time she had been with a woman, but it almost seemed so. The act had been so different with Miss Ritter. Back then, she had managed to convince herself that she had only done it because it was part of her job and continuing education; she was certain the orgasms her instructor had occasionally handed out were either lessons on how the older rider expected to be pleasured, or rewards for own good behavior. Certainly, on most nights she had left the woman's apartment with an unfulfilled sexual ache that would not be satisfied as touching herself was out of the question; not once had Miss Ritter ever given the student release if the instructor had not gotten it herself. She had always considered herself a "good girl;" anything she had done or experienced was because she was convinced she had to.

Even after her marriage, she had hoped her new husband might reveal a hidden, domineering personality in the bedroom and force her to do all the sick and twisted things that dwelt in a man's imagination while she complied as a "faithful wife" and absolved herself of responsibility. But instead he was in private what he was in public—respectful, sweet, adorable, and she had found no excuse to stray from her mother's morality, embracing it for no other reason other than Tim had married and expected a "good wife." 

Today had been so unlike her riding academy experiences. Natalie had freely given without expecting anything in return right then and there. And her touch was so different! Soft, gentle, caring...not the cold, impersonal, manipulations she had both given and received before she met Tim...much the same treatment she had continued to give her husband until recently, she feared. 

And Natalie. She'd have to tell Tim what happened. He said he didn't mind before; she had no choice but to find out if he meant it now. 

And she had promised her sister the favor would be returned; of course Natalie would understand if Tim objected—wouldn't she?—but what if he said it was alright? The relief she had felt when Natalie had first declined Gwen's offer was not from a reluctance to make her sister-in-law happy, but rather a worry that her performance would not match the expectations. Would she be able to deliver the same caring, fulfilling pleasure she had felt just a short while ago? 

Questions, answers, and concerns chased each other around in the distracted woman's head until the first sounds of crunching gravel outside. Morally suspect people have their problems too, she sighed as she headed downstairs.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 08



Okay, seems like a good time to state this again:

For those new to this story, be aware that the premise of this series is one of sexual exploration where departures from traditional monogamy are treated with openness and honesty by all characters. If you don't believe the premise is possible, this story is not for you. Please. Don't read this. I don't want to waste your time or anger you over the behavior of fictional characters. 

For those who are enjoying it and have taken the time to share, thank you. I'm continuing to try and incorporate plot lines and scenarios that you have suggested wherever possible.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Tim leaned back against the kitchen counter, eyes closed and beer in hand. Gwen knew from long years of experience that his pose was one of exhaustion mixed with deep thought. She panicked at the idea that perhaps her dalliance that afternoon was the cause of his mental gyrations.

"Everything alright, dear?" 

Her husband opened her eyes and smiled through his fatigue. "Yeah. Walt announced his retirement today." 

"Oh...Oh! When?"

"Two weeks. He and Norma are getting' in the RV, heading out to bother their kids for a while, then traveling the NASCAR circuit." 

"Well, he kept saying he was going to."

"He did. But being without Cliff these past few days has made it very clear we'll need to replace him pretty quick."

"Isn't Andrew almost ready to take his exams for his Journeyman's license?"

"Yup...but even if he took and passed the exam tomorrow, without his Master's I license we'd have to send him out on the simpler stuff. And doing that is going to make scheduling a major pain in the ass."

"So, what are you going to do?"

"You know Matt MacKinnon's hanging it up, right?"

Gwen knew. Matt was a plumber in town whose work Tim and the others had been called out to fix more than a few times over the past few years. 

"He's selling all his tools and equipment, at least the stuff that isn't broken or worn out, to Crockett Brothers in Bainbridge. He's got a young guy working for him that wanted to buy the business but didn't have the money. The kid's a good plumber, has his Master's I and really knows his stuff. He looks like he's still in High School—Matt says his woman customers don't know whether to ogle him or sit him down for milk and cookies. Sharp guy. If he passes your test, I'd like to hire him."

Gwen smiled. Her "test" consisted of inviting the prospective employee over for dinner and observing his manners. At some point during the evening, Gwen would nod to her husband, and he was free to make the job offer. She had never said no to one of Tim's prospects, but some of her nods had come late in the evening. "If you think he's a good fit, I'm sure he'll be fine. Just hire him."

"Oh, no. not without your stamp of approval." Tim smiled, took a swig of beer, and closed his eyes again. "I've also been thinking that we keep getting busier, and we need to get out ahead of it. What do you think about putting an extra truck on and putting Andrew in that once he passes his exams? I can give him a kick in the ass to get it done." 

"Expand the business?" Gwen's conservative business mind quickly began calculating the risks in such a move, and what the chances were it might prove profitable.

"Yeah. We're incredibly busy, you see it better than anybody. Having a little more size might allow us to bid on some of the larger construction jobs, too. So what does my chief financial officer think? Do we have the cash to get bigger?"

"Maybe," she allowed. "The bank accounts aren't too badly off at the moment..."

"We don't have to decide tonight," Tim said with a smile. "At least on the expansion. I would like to invite Eric to dinner next week, though. Sooner we fill Walt's spot the better." 

"Is Tuesday night soon enough?" 

"Yeah, that'll be fine. I'll see if he can make it. Matt already knows I want to hire him...he's fine with him starting whenever—he's barely got enough work for himself, much less Eric." 

Tim put his empty bottle on the counter and straightened. "But tonight, a shower, then bed. I'm going to go back into town first thing tomorrow morning and finish up a couple of jobs." 

"You need a break," Gwen admonished the retreating figure. "You're working too hard."

Simple stuff tomorrow," Tim called out as he stripped off his shirt. "Won't be much. Just better to get it out of the way so we don't get any further behind." 

Gwen picked up the discarded clothes and put them in the proper baskets as her husband shambled into the shower stall. She waited as he soaked, leaning against the vanity counter, arms folded, lost in in her own thoughts.

The water stopped and a towel was dragged over the top of the translucent door. Tim was surprised to see her standing there as he stepped out. "Oh—hey there. Are you waiting for the shower? You could have joined me."

"No, I'll take one in the morning...there's something I wanted to tell you, before things got too busy."

"Yesss?" His eyes showed both fatigue and good humor.

"Well, Natalie came over to ride today, and I, uhh, we...well, she uhh, gave me a massage after, and umm, things got a little out of hand after that." 

Some of the fatigue was replaced by interest. "Really? Like how?"

"Like, you know..." Gwen averted her eyes in embarrassment, afraid of his reaction. Her focus shifted to his waist, surprised to see his member beginning to stir, rising with each heartbeat. 

"Like what you two did last time?"

Gwen nodded, cheeks burning. "More than that." 

"I see. So, I guess you've sworn off men now, gonna move in with her and open an antiques store on Route 90?" 

Gwen's eyes opened wide with fear and snapped back to his only to find a stupid grin on his face. She was momentarily angry that he was taking the whole thing so lightly, then relieved. Maybe he wasn't upset after all. His penis certainly didn't seem to be. 

"No, how can you say that!" she wailed as tears welled. "I love you!"

Tim realized he had gone too far and reached out to hug her. "Hey, sorry, sorry...I should have known this was a big thing for you." 

Gwen sniffled on his shoulder. "You aren't mad?"

"Nope. Glad you had some fun. You did have fun, right?"

"Fun makes it sound like we went to the beach. It was nice," she forced herself to admit over the Lady's protests, "but I still love you."

"All of me?" Tim took a step back as his eyes shifted meaningfully to his waist.

"Of course!" 

Tim laughed. "So, show me."

"Now? I know you're tired, and you want to get up early..."

"If you'd rather not, I understand..." 

"No! If you're not too tired after the week you've had, then I'm certainly not. Come on—let's go into the bedroom so you can get off your feet."

Tim smiled. "Maybe in a bit. Might be nice if you gave me a little kiss first..." His eyes again glanced down to his midsection. Gwen didn't miss the hint and sank to her knees, her husband's bobbing erection now at eye level. She gently pressed her lips to the moist skin of his pink head and ran her tongue over the groove. The cock's owner sighed in approval. Gwen delicately took his drawn up testicles in one hand and the shaft above them with the other, lightly stroking it before wrapping her lips around the bulbous end as her husband's hands gently took her head and guided her movements. Her fingers extended from where they cradled his balls and caressed the skin behind them, stopping just short of the cleft of his cheeks. Tim began to drive himself through the fingers wrapped around his cock and into her welcoming mouth. Gwen quickly found the proper rhythm to keep from being choked by her husband's thick tool.

The thrusting abruptly stopped. "Stand up. Turn around." Gwen did as she was told, only able to give her husband the briefest of puzzled looks before her shoulders were firmly grasped and she was spun to face the vanity. Strong hands pulled the robe from her shoulders, baring her to the waist, where her sash remained tied. Tim quickly remedied this, and the gown was dropped to the floor. Hands pushed her forward until she was bent over the counter, her rear high in the air and her elbows resting on the cool surface of the granite surface, and she watched the reflection of her husband as he sank from sight behind her. She thrilled as her legs were roughly separated and a face was pressed into her backside as Tim's tongue began to part her lower lips in search of the moisture she knew he would find. His stubble rasped against the skin of her thighs as he pressed forward, reaching for the pearl at the top of her slit to tickle it before running back into her folds. Gwen closed her eyes and hung her head, reveling in the shamelessness of her current situation. 

The face between her legs was removed, and Gwen looked up into the mirror to watch the man behind her stand again, fisting his erection as he rose. One hand grasped her hip while the other roughly rubbed his cudgel through her lips from clitoris to anus, pushing forward once he believed himself to be properly aligned with the opening of her sex. He did not take her gently, rutting her with powerful strokes as her breasts swung wildly and her mons rubbed against the lip of the counter. Gwen could see in his reflection a look of primal determination. 

"Your cunt feels incredible," he gasped, and unleashed one last powerful lunge. The hands holding her hips became almost painful, and she could see his eyes screwed shut in delicious intensity. 

After a final explosive gasp, Tim stepped back and allowed her to straighten. Gwen looked at herself in the mirror, noting with satisfaction the red splashes her husband's fingers had left on her skin, and turned as she put her hands on her hips in mock indignation. "Timothy Allen Nelson! Did you use the C word?" 

It was his turn to blush. "Uh, yeah, sorry, guess I got carried away. Sorry." 

"I didn't know you ever used that word," Gwen said with a smile, for some reason pleased her faked anger had been convincing enough to cow the man who had just used her for his pleasure. 

"Sorry—sorry." 

"It's alright. I'm glad my...cunt...makes you lose control like that. But let's just keep that kind of talk just between us two, alright? " 

"It's a deal," he said with a sheepish grin. "And if you want to talk dirty, I won't get mad either."

"I'll remember that," she said with another smile. "You must be exhausted. Let's get you to bed." 

Despite his promise of "just a couple of jobs in the morning," Tim worked most the weekend, acknowledging Gwen's protests with a smile and a kiss. She had done her best to keep him from leaving by tempting him with promises of further pleasures, but the orgasms she produced in him were not enough to keep her husband from getting back to work after he ensured his wife had been satisfied as well. 

Gwen watched from the kitchen window as the battered old truck clattered up the driveway Tuesday evening, forty five minutes after the last Nelson Plumbing employee had left for the day. A figure unfolded from the driver's side door after it had wheezed to a stop, a tall and athletically thin younger man with short blonde hair and a ruddy-cheeked baby face, dressed in khakis, shirt and tie. Gwen smiled at his choice of outfits as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and stepped on to the deck to greet him. A good start, she decided, remembering back to how Mike had shown up for his "interview" wearing torn jeans and a concert t-shirt. She had lectured him on the need for proper attire in the business world before letting him in the house. 

"Mrs. Nelson?" The nervous young man said, awkwardly juggling a bottle of wine to free his right hand as he climbed the stairs. "I'm Eric Anderson. Mr. Nelson said I should come for dinner tonight?" 

"Yes, Tim said you'd be coming over," she replied, extending her hand to shake his free one. "I'm Gwen Nelson. Tim's in the shower. He'll be out shortly. Come in, please." 

"Thank you, Mrs. Nelson. I hope this isn't an inconvenience." 

"It's not at all, and please call me Gwen." 

"Yes, ma'am. I hope you like wine—my mother says to always bring a gift when going to someone's house, but I wasn't sure what would be proper."

"Wine is a nice choice, very thoughtful of you," she said as she led him to the living room. "Can I offer you some?" 

"Oh, thank you, no ma'am, that's very nice of you, though."

"Gwen."

"Yes, ma'am, Gwen." 

Tim soon joined them, and the young man gratefully accepted a beer when he saw his host take one. Gwen's nod came very early that evening, even before they had sat down to dinner; his bearing and manners were certainly what she hoped for when representing Nelson Plumbing in public. Besides, there was just something...nice...about him. 

"So, I'm guessing you've been looking for something else now that Matt's closing up shop?" Tim asked as they made their way to the dining room.

"Yes sir, I have. I had hoped to buy the business from him, but he was asking way too much for it—more than I could afford, and sorry to say, more than I think it was worth. I didn't think I'd be able to make a go of it if I had to borrow too much."

"Then you have a good business head on your shoulders. Matt's a nice guy, but I think he's been looking to get out for a while now, and he hasn't kept up with things. There's a lot that would need to be done to resurrect that business." The trio sat, Tim amused and Gwen flattered as the young man did his best to pull her chair out for her. "You know Walt Phillips is retiring, right?"

"Yes sir, I heard." Eric studied his own assigned seat as he pulled it out, afraid to make eye contact. "Are you going to be filling his position?"

"We're damn busy with him. It'll be impossible to keep going at this pace without replacing him. You interested?"

The young man's eyes shot up. "I am—if you're offering me a position, I mean."

Tim smiled. "I am."

Eric smiled broadly. "It would be great to work for you and Cliff, if you're serious about this. And Mrs. Nelson, too," he hurriedly added.

The older man laughed. "I am serious, and you'd be working with me and Cliff, not under us. Yeah, you'd be working for Gwen, but we all do." Her husband shot her a glance and a smile. "I'd be putting you in your own truck with an apprentice. You alright with that?" 

The young man's smile widened even further. "Sounds more than alright. When can I start?" 

"First rule of business," Tim cautioned. "Never say you'll take on a job until you have a decent idea what the finances are going to look like. What's your salary expectations?" The two plumbers spent the rest of the evening discussing terms, plans and goals, Gwen sitting back and smiling at her husband's excitement. Tim had always loved helping apprentices further their careers, and there was something about this young man that gave the hint of bigger and better things for them all. 

Gwen said her goodbyes to the young man and cleaned up after dinner while Tim took him out to the shop to show him around. She heard the old truck rumble to life nearly an hour later, headlights briefly reflecting through the kitchen window as it backed up and made the turn. Tim's boots thumped across the deck a moment later. 

"I think he's gonna work out fine," he grumbled as he came up behind Gwen at the sink and kissed her neck. "Seems to me you think so, too. I think that was the earliest I've ever seen you nod. I don't think even Cliff got approved that fast."

"Oh, I had my mind made up about Cliff pretty early, too," she corrected. "I was just so preoccupied with not burning the roast and embarrassing myself in front of he and Cheryl that I forgot to tell you." The couple followed their long-standing pre-bedtime routine and were soon asleep, Gwen naked and tucked under her husband's arm. 

The rest of the week flew by, Gwen busy with the preparations necessary for Walt's retirement and Eric's hiring. A phone call warning of Alison and Jason's imminent arrival had spoiled her parents' plan of a nude swim and more Thursday evening after dinner, and anything but sleep was out of the question by the time their daughter had left. Despite her fatigue, her dreams that evening signaled a growing need for the Slut's gratification. 

Friday morning dawned particularly hot and muggy, a precursor to what lay ahead for the weekend. Gwen had been grateful for the distraction her busy week had provided. The thought of returning the favor for Natalie had constantly been on the fringe of her thoughts, but rarely able to push to center stage. She wondered if her promise had somehow triggered her dream. 

The Lady continued to chastise her for even contemplating going through with it as Gwen filled out state tax forms. And while part of her appreciated the immorality and impropriety of the situation, the Slut made convincing arguments as to why it was right, not just for the excitement, but as an act of friendship as well. Gwen could tell herself she was honor-bound to keep her promise, but she knew it was more than that, although even the desire to return the favor had its worries. Would she be any good at it? Natalie had made her feel warm and sensual and loved; she doubted she had ever been able to produce those feelings in Miss Ritter, and wondered if she had the ability to do so for anybody.

Gwen's musings were interrupted by the sound of Natalie's SUV pulling up the gravel driveway. She made her way down the stairs and out of the office to greet her sister, sweaty bodies hugging each other despite the air-conditioned surroundings they had just come from. 

"I can't believe how hot it is," Gwen remarked as they began their walk to the barn. "Like July hot." 

"It's pretty sticky," the blonde agreed, tugging at her t-shirt. "Sooner I get rid of this, the better. Let's get 'em saddled up and into the shade on the ridge. Might be a breeze up there." Natalie left her shirt on long enough to get Dancer ready, hoping to keep as much stray dirt and straw off her sweat-slicked skin as possible. She was topless as soon as her leg swung over the horse's back, and Gwen followed suit. She could feel the difference as now-exposed sweat began to dry, and she regretted her decision to wear jeans rather than shorts like her sister. 

Their pace up the hill was slow, their path meandering over shaded trails as insects sang in the trees. The oppressive heat soon had both women thinking of the pool below, and the horses seemed to help them with their decision to cut the ride short even before they had made it. They returned to the barn and turned their mounts loose in the paddock, the horses clinging to the shade of the stable wall rather than venturing into the sun. 

Gwen watched her sister remove what little clothing she had left after they had made the climb to the pool deck. She did not hesitate to strip down as well, and both women submerged themselves in the not-quite-cool water, still enjoying the feel of it against their naked bodies. 

"I suppose I should get a move on," Natalie finally offered, and began to make her way to the steps as Gwen nodded her agreement and followed. "Meet you in the house," the blonde offered over her shoulder as she headed to her car. 

Gwen went straight to where she kept the baby oil and beach towels. I promised, she told herself. There was the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing, then footsteps in the hallway.

"It's earlier than I thought," Natalie announced as she turned the corner into the bedroom. "It didn't occur to me we cut the ride short. You want to—" The naked woman looked across the room at the other naked woman holding a towel and plastic bottle and raised an eyebrow. "Did you, uhh, want a massage?" 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 08



"No, not me," Gwen announced, suddenly embarrassed. "I told you last week I would return the favor. It's only fair." 

"You did, but I kinda put you up to it," her sister replied, a smile slowly growing. "You really don't have to if you don't want to." 

"No, it's only fair," Gwen insisted in her best obligation-honoring voice. "I said I would." The Lady took this moment to remind her of the absurdity of the situation, naked in her bedroom with another naked woman, insisting on attempting to give that woman an orgasm. 

"Only if you truly want to," Natalie said, her smile still in place. "You suck at lying, so I want to hear you say you want to."

"I want to, alright?" Gwen said as she turned away to spread the towel on the bed. "You did something really nice for me and I want to do something nice for you. I'm sure I won't be as good at it as you are, but I want to try, okay?" 

Natalie stepped towards her and leaned in to kiss her cheek while a breast brushed her arm. "Just do what you're comfortable with and you'll be fine, okay? You want me on my tummy?"

"If that's alright."

Her sister responded by climbing on to the bed and arranging herself on the towel, head turned to the side and eyes shut, arms by her side and legs spread slightly. The moment of truth, Gwen decided and climbed on the mattress next to her. She flipped open the cap with shaking hands and squirted a line of the liquid from shoulder blade to the small of Natalie's back. 

Gwen started from the top, using her fingertips to spread the oil over her skin. She was quickly surprised by how different Natalie felt—her memories of Miss Ritter's body had been that she solid, unyielding, and cool to the touch, like her skin and muscles were physical extensions of her instructor's steely personality. The body that lay before her was different, very different—warm, soft, and pliant. Gwen found herself beginning to revel in the sensory delights of the woman's body, working her way down towards her hips, towards those fascinating buttocks...

"Your hands are as strong as your thighs," Natalie mumbled through the pillow surrounding her face, and Gwen blushed at the reference to the squeezing she had given her sister's fingers the week before. "But you have a very feminine touch. It's a great combination."

Gwen smiled in embarrassment at the compliment. The most she had ever heard from Miss Ritter was how she had performed competently. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it." Her hands were now working the flesh below the base of Natalie's spine, exploring the soft muscle of her upper buttocks. Her sister's hips came off the bed in response, as if to offer her globes into Gwen's hands. More oil was applied and she took the offer, marveling in their soft fullness, fingers wandering into the cleft in search of stray droplets of oil. The hips again twitched in response, and Gwen followed Natalie's script from the week before, her finger running across and around the crinkled muscle of her anus, then dipping lower until she felt the first hints of labial lips. Natalie groaned in appreciation and did her best to flex and maintain the contact.

Gwen stuck to the pattern that had felt so good on her, withdrawing her fingers and settling herself between the prone woman's legs to focus on her thighs and calves. Natalie's sex was open enough to hint at the moisture between her lips, and Gwen took this as a sign that perhaps her efforts were not in vain. Her fingers smoothed the oil up her sister's inner thigh, almost brushing her lips as she smoothed the skin at the junction. So warm and soft...it was with some reluctance she continued her way down to calves and feet. 

The toes were the last to receive attention, Natalie wiggling them happily as fingers ran between them. "Would you like to turn over now?" Her sister smiled contentedly and complied, never opening her eyes. 

Gwen eyed the nude figure appreciatively as she drew a line of oil from neck to navel. Her breasts, lolling slightly to either side of her chest, were not as firm as Miss Ritter's but probably at least as big. It was impossible to resist the urge to find out, and Gwen's hands only briefly worked the valley between them before traveling outwards. Her sisters mounds were every bit as soft and forgiving she had hoped them to be, the flesh giving way under her fingers only to spring back as Gwen moved on. Natalie's nipples were erect before they had ever been touched, and the oil being spread over them only made them stand even more firmly. 

The hands slathering the oil over yielding breasts occasionally made forays on to the flattened stomach below, going so far as the cradle of her hips before returning to tease and torment the woman's nipples. Gwen moved back to her side and grabbed the bottle of oil to squirt two short lines, one down the top of each thigh. The liquid was worked in concentric circles, up to where the thin tuft of hair sat atop her mons, and down the sides of her thighs as far as the towel beneath would allow. Legs opened in expectation, and Gwen slid her fingers between the junction of the woman's thigh and her sex. Her palm settled on the soft padding above her slit while a finger tentatively made contact with the lips below, then gently pushed between them. There was no resistance, just warmth and wetness. Gwen's other hand alternated between the breasts wobbling beneath her. 

Natalie sighed contentedly as her hips pushed up against the palm resting on her clitoris. Gwen's finger found the opening beneath and entered her, curling up inside while her palm maintained pressure, just as Miss Ritter had insisted upon so long ago. She remembered how her former instructor had just lain there in silence, occasionally twitching or roughly grabbing her pupil's hand to roughly steer the young woman's touch to where it was desired most. Natalie showed no such stoicism, her moans and coos sounding like cheers to Gwen while a hand stroked down her back and around her bottom. 

The stroking stopped, but only so Natalie could roll to her side and prop herself on that elbow. Gwen gasped in surprise as a hand worked its way past her open thighs to cup her furrow while a pair of lips fastened on her breast. Natalie ground urgently against the hand over her own pussy, and Gwen felt what it felt like to have her fingers squeezed between a pair of thighs. The tongue bathing her nipple came free and warm labored breath cooled the wetness it had left. "CumMINGGG," Natalie announced through gritted teeth as her own fingers furiously worked their magic on Gwen's clit. "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhggggg!" She stiffened and all movement stopped, even Gwen freezing in place as she observed the power of the female orgasm. 

"Whew!" Natalie exclaimed as her body relaxed and the finger between her sister's legs picked up where it left off. "That was a good one! Didn't realize how much I needed that." Gwen's hips twitched involuntarily as the finger in her circled her clit. "Okay honey, your turn. Lay back and let me do the rest." 

She lay back, arms by her side, looking up at Natalie still resting on her elbow. Her sister smiled and bent forward. Gwen began to panic, afraid that she meant to kiss her. Of all the twisted and depraved things she had done with Miss Ritter, kissing had never been one of them—she had always imagined it to be an intimate act, and her instructor had never shown any desire for intimacy. 

Natalie's head bent to the other woman's breast and her lips and tongue resumed their travels. Gwen breathed a small sigh of relief—she would not have rejected her advance of course, that would have been rude, but better not to be faced with that choice right now. But the mouth on your nipple and the finger inside of you are just fine and dandy, the Lady sneered. 

Her orgasm was quick and powerful, the hand between her legs just seeming to know what to do to produce the needed result, the lips on her breast capturing her nipple while the tongue gently circled it. Natalie's mouth only left her after her senses had returned. 

Gwen looked up to see her smiling face. "Good one." Natalie said with a smile. Her head abruptly ducked forward, lips meeting lips in a quick kiss. "Right on time." The blonde rose from the bed and went to her bag. "Gotta get to work." 

"Thank you for...that," Gwen said as she rose, not bothering to dress. "You didn't have to do, it was your turn"

"It can be both of our turns. Or, you'd rather do it yourself?" Her sister asked with a mischievous smile. "I know you're becoming quite the expert at jilling off, but personally, I never pass up a chance have someone else make me come." Natalie pulled the scrubs top over her head and stepped into her shoes. "Gotta go. Next week?" 

Gwen found herself surprised by the casualness of it all. Not romantic in the slightest, just...friendly? "Next week." 

With a quick peck on the cheek, Natalie was off, Gwen following her into the kitchen and out on to the deck. Too hot for clothes, Gwen decided as she watched the SUV drive off, and made the walk back to the office in the nude, carrying what she would need later. 

The phone rang as she slipped into her chair, and Gwen smiled. It thrilled her to talk to others while she sat there nude, wondering what they might think if they knew her state of undress. They might be in the same condition, the Slut reminded her. 

"Nelson Plumbing, may I help you?" 

The voice on the other end was young, hesitant, and faintly familiar. "Uhh, yes, may I, umm, speak with Gwen Nelson please?"



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 09



Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*

"This is she." The call had come in as soon as Gwen had returned to her desk, fresh from an orgasm at the hands and lips of Natalie, followed by a nude walk across the lawn. The voice on the other end was a young woman, quiet and hesitant, the tone and pitch reminding Gwen of when her daughters were younger and their friends would call.

"Hi Mrs. Nelson, my name is Kristen LaPointe. You probably don't remember me, but we met at Memories by McCall? The photo studio??" 

"Kristen! Of course! How are you?"

"Well, to tell the truth, pretty stressed out at the moment...this sounds crazy and I can't believe I'm asking, but I really need to get on a horse for a while and clear my head. You had offered to let me ride, and I'd very much like to take you up on your offer, but if you were just being polite and would rather I not I completely understand," she said in a breathless rush. "Please don't be afraid to tell me to just go away." 

"Of course Kristen, you're more than welcome! I know how much thinking I can get done on a ride. When would you like to come out?"

"Oh, thank you so much, if you mean it," the young woman said in gasp of relief. "Would tomorrow afternoon be too soon? I want to be out---I, uh, don't have to work tomorrow. Would tomorrow afternoon be alright?" 

"Tomorrow afternoon is fine, my husband and I will just be doing chores around here all day. What time would you like to come?"

"Would 2 be alright?" 

"2 is fine."

***

Gwen pushed the envelope that afternoon, not bothering to dress until she heard the first truck pulling up the gravel driveway. Early, she noted as scrambled into her clothes while the rush of adrenaline from nearly being caught coursed through her. There was the sound of boots on the stairs as the last button was fastened, and Jordan's head popped above floor level, followed by his sweat soaked upper torso. 

"Jordan, my goodness, you look like you've been swimming!"

I can't believe how hot it was today!" he replied with a grin, offering her the sheaf of papers in his hand. "I thought it was supposed to start getting cooler this time of year, not hotter! We were worse until the AC in the truck cooled us off some. Sorry, but I smell pretty bad." 

Gwen waved her hand dismissively as she thumbed through the paperwork. "You smell like you've been working hard. Women find hard work attractive." 

"So I shouldn't take a shower before my next date?" 

Gwen looked up to see him smiling at his own joke and smiled back. "We also like men to smell nice when they're done working hard. Please tell the others as they come back that there is beer in the shop fridge—soda for Mike—and that you may take it up to the pool with you and go for a swim. I'm sure you all deserve a cooling off. Also, don't forget to remind the others that there are swim shorts in the pool shed if anybody forgot theirs—not that you ever use them." She looked up again with a raised eyebrow.

The young apprentice didn't seem fazed in the slightest by his boss's strong hint as to what went on when she was absent. "We don't have to worry about offending or scaring anybody when it's just us guys," he said with a grin. 

He was certainly the most self-assured of the apprentices, Gwen thought to herself. The most coarse, too. I wonder if that carries over into the bedroom, or he's just all talk? Has he ever even been with a woman? She knew he thought of her as a stuck-up prude and wondered what he would have done had she not dressed in time. The Lady quickly put a stop to the idea of Gwen considering her employees in a less than professional manner. "Yes, well, women do offend and scare easily," she replied with a smile, remembering how she had been aroused, not frightened by his nudity that day she had spied on he and Andrew in the pool. The cool water had shrunk them certainly, Andrew down to an almost cherub-like size, but she doubted that either young man could grow when aroused to match either dildo in her nightstand. And those no longer offended or frightened her..."Thank you for sparing us. You'll remind the others, please?" 

"Yes ma'am. Why don't you join us?"

"No, you all should have some boys-only time at the end of a work week." 

"It's Nelson Plumbing only time," he countered. "And you're a big part of Nelson Plumbing. C'mon, I know you're hot." 

Gwen smiled, imagining the young man's persuasive tone had been used more than once to talk some poor, innocent girl out of her clothes. She held the damp pile of paper out at him. "We'll see how long this paperwork takes to sort out. Meanwhile, nobody gets a beer until all the unloading is done, right?" 

Jordan grinned. "Right. We'll get it done." 

"And no beer at all for Mike!" She yelled as he retreated down the staircase. "He's still underage for another three months!"

"No ma'am, no beer for the little kid!" came the echoed response. 

Despite her misgivings, the paperwork was in pretty good shape that afternoon—complete, if a little damp from the humidity and the sweat that had dripped on it. Gwen was the first out of the shop that afternoon, heading for the house even as the last copper salvage and fixtures were being sorted for the scrapyard. She was at the kitchen sink, washing lettuce for a salad, when Tim breezed in, on his way to change into swim trunks. 

"Going for a swim?" He called out as he went down the hall. "Jordan was telling everybody you might."

"For goodness sake, why is that news he thinks everybody has to know?" The Slut thought she knew the answer.

"Because you never have before," Tim called out again, already on his way back up. "C'mon, get changed."

"I think it's better left as a boys-only thing," she demurred as he turned the corner back into the kitchen. It was funny how quickly seeing her husband in a bathing suit had become an uncommon event. 

"It's not like we're having a bachelor party up there," he grumbled as he kissed her neck on the way by to the refrigerator for more beer. "C'mon. The lettuce can wait. Get changed and meet me up there. I promise we'll all be perfect gentlemen, and if Jordan isn't, well, I'll hold him under until he is." Tim breezed out the door, towels in one hand and six-pack in the other. 

Gwen thought about it a moment before heading for the bedroom. Her bikinis were out of the question, of course, but her trusty black one piece might be suitable for being the only woman in a crowd of men. Men who work for you and actively discuss what you look like naked, the Lady reminded her. They'll respect you less if you even give them a little of what they're hoping for. She ignored the warning and dressed quickly but carefully, selecting a towel and beach coverup for herself before heading up the hill. 

Tim and the three apprentices were all in the water when she stepped through the chain link gate. A glance into the clear rippling water confirmed that everyone was wearing shorts, to her relief and mild disappointment. Even Walt was in attendance, his bulk filling a chair off to the right, the Nelson Plumbing shirt removed to reveal a stained white t-shirt underneath. 

"No Cliff?" she asked as she made her way to the table where her towel was always placed.

Tim took a sip of beer. "Nope. Ty's got a football game tonight, and he wanted to get home in time to pick up Cheryl." 

Gwen sensed all eyes were upon her, and she resisted the urge to check her outfit one more time. She had the distinct impression they were all waiting for the unveiling, for the revealing of what lay beneath her coverup. Already they had seen more leg than ever before, and the anticipation of what Mrs. Nelson looked like without baggy jeans and shirts and sweaters was telling. 

It was Walt's eyes she felt the most. The boys—young men, the Slut reminded her, young, virile men who undressed every woman they saw—she expected to look, even if there was not much to see. But Walt had been looking for years, for the most part doing a decent job of hiding his interest. He had always been polite to her, but also had worked for Tim and Gwen long enough for her to occasionally overhear his thoughts on women. Naked and bringing him beer before performing lewd acts was the role of the fairer sex, although Gwen had a hard time imagining Norma doing any of that for him. More than once she had gotten the sense that Walt had envisioned the woman at the top of the office stairs performing the role for him instead. The thought had horrified her before, and amused her now. She could not imagine pushing aside that belly to find what the fat plumber would want attended to. All these years, he had been the living example of the type of man her mother had been warning her about. And now she was going to tease him with a hint of what he could never have. 

Gwen surveyed the pool deck, delaying the disrobing. Everyone either had a beer in hand or close by on the edge of the pool; Mike held a can of soda, an unclaimed beer nearby raising the suspicion it belonged to the underaged apprentice. Realizing there was no way to lessen the shock value of her exposure, she untied the coverup, slipped it off her shoulders and hurried to the pool stairs. 

Every man did his best not to stare. Even though the suit was modest by any reasonable standard, it still revealed the lines and shape of their employer's body like they had never seen before. Firm breasts molded the stretchy fabric over them, and the skirt about her waist did nothing to hide the toned legs emerging from beneath it. The young men made their way to the other side of the pool, as if to give her space, as she entered and made her way to stand by Tim. 

"Would you like a beer, ma'am?" Jordan offered as she turned to face them. 

"Oh, no thank you, I don't drink beer. Only a little wine, sometimes." 

"I can go get you some," Andrew quickly offered. Jordan gave him a smug grin for his eagerness. She remembered how he had expressed a special interest in the mysteries of Mrs. Nelson that day by the pool, and wondered if his expectations of her had been heightened or dampened by her unveiling.

"No, thank you Andrew, that's very nice of you, though. So, what are you up to this weekend?" 

"Oh, uh, not much," he mumbled, suddenly aware he was the center of attention. "My brother's band is playing at Tooley's Millhouse tomorrow night, so I'm going to go." 

"Well, that sounds like fun. How about you two?"

Mike and Jordan suddenly found reasons to look elsewhere, afraid they might be caught staring at the breasts just above the surface, looking for signs the cool water might be doing its work on her nipples. Both confessed to no plans, just 'hanging out'. 

"And you, Walt? What are you and Norma doing?" 

The fat plumber snapped out of the daydream where the woman he was staring at was without bathing suit. "Oh, uh," he spluttered. "Just takin' care of stuff around the house, gettin' the RV ready, you know..." 

The sun was just above the trees and the group had talked through several more beers before Jordan and Mike announced their need to get back to town and made their way on to the pool deck. The young men grabbed their towels and clothes but did not bother to change, thanking the Nelsons for their hospitality before making their way down to their trucks. Andrew hurried after them, and Walt did not move until Gwen had gotten back onto the pool deck and covered herself with the wrap. 

"Shit," Jordan said in a low voice once he decided they were out of earshot. "My grandma wears less'n that at the beach. Got a better look at her tits than I ever have before, though. Wonder if Tim's ever seen more of 'em," he finished with a laugh. 

"I don't even want to think about your grandma showin' off her tits," Mike groaned after nervously checking over his shoulder to ensure the three apprentices were indeed alone. "But yeah, Mrs. Nelson's titties look pretty nice. Wish that skirt hadn't been in the way, though. Woulda loved to have gotten a better look at that ass."

Jordan looked over at Andrew and laughed. "Hey Mrs. Nelson, let me get you some wine," he mimicked in a high voice. "Kiss ass!" 

"She didn't have anything to drink," the besieged apprentice said weakly. 

"No, I really think you want to kiss her ass. And her tits, and her pussy...dude, I think you got the hots for her."

"Shut the fuck up! She's my boss!" 

"She's the boss with the pussy you want to stick your little dick in. Wait your turn, Tim's probably still trying. You beat him to it, he's gonna kick your ass." 

"If he hears you talking about her like that, he's gonna kick your ass first," Andrew shot back. "Cliff probably will too, if he hears you." 

The trio reached their vehicles and made tentative plans to maybe meet somewhere over the weekend while Jordan and Mike changed back into their work pants. Andrew stayed in his shorts, knowing they were already partially dry and the evening breeze through the cab would finish the job. Walt came wheezing up behind them, belched his goodbye, and was off. 

Andrew followed the other two apprentices down the driveway, turning right at the end as Mike and Jordan turned left. He was almost three-quarters of a mile down the road when the engine coughed and spluttered, then died. The truck rolled to a stop and the young man already knew what the problem was even before his eyes got to the gauge. He had pushed his luck too far between fill-ups. Out of gas. 

"ShitshitshitSHIT!" Andrew slammed the steering wheel in frustration. Now what? He could try and call Jordan or Mike, see if they would come back and get him. He knew they probably would, but the crap he would take from them for delaying the start to their evening was probably not worth it. Getting his brother or someone else from town would take forever. He could call Tim, see if he would come out with a can of gas. 

Don't be a lazy ass, he chided himself. Tim's probably sitting down to dinner about now. Just walk back and grab one of the gas cans for the jobsite generators. Return it full on Monday and Tim won't care. With a sigh, he climbed from the cab and began to walk. 

Gwen began to gather empties and towels as soon as Walt's bulk had disappeared from sight down the hill. "Leave that stuff and let's sit for a while," Tim said as he popped the top on another can. "It's the weekend. Let's slow down for a bit." She smiled and sat down next to him, resisting the urge to continue her tidying. Her husband's eyes slowly begin to close, and both enjoyed the silence as the sun sank behind the trees. 

"Good day?" He asked, not bothering to open his eyes. 

Tell him now about her afternoon with Natalie, or later? Later, the Slut suggested. It might be a good way to add some spice to a hoped-for dessert after dinner. "A busy day. I got a call from someone I met recently. She's coming over to ride tomorrow."

Her husband's eyes opened and found hers. "Somebody besides Natalie? Speaking of that, you guys rode today, right? How did that go?"

"It was fine," she said dismissively. "The person I met—Kristen—is coming at 2 tomorrow."

Tim decided his wife was reluctant to discuss her afternoon with her sister, and he let it drop. "You're letting someone you just met near your horses? That's a first. Where'd you meet her?"

"I met her at, uhh, Natalie's last photo shoot. She was in to ask about getting some photos taken, photos like yours. They asked me to tell her about my experience. She mentioned she loves to ride, so I told her she could come out any time she wanted." 

Tim sat up, suddenly very interested. "Gwen! You actually gave a stranger more than a polite hello? I'm impressed!" 

"Stop that! I talk to strangers."

Talk, yes. Carry on a conversation, or make arrangements to continue it, that's a new one." He stopped and gently whacked his forehead. "Sorry, what the hell was I thinking? Where's my manners? Let me go get you something to drink."

"I can get it," Gwen said patiently, and began to rise. 

Tim cut her off. "No. Stay here and relax. I'll be right back." He hurried out of the gate and down the hill. 

Andrew broke into the clearing of the Nelson's yard as dusk was settling. He had made up his mind to head up to the house and announce his presence and predicament if there appeared to be any signs of life, and there did seem to be a light coming from the windows over the deck. More light spilled out from the kitchen door as it opened, and the young man began to call out to whoever was opening it. Both his call and his walk froze. A naked rear end, easily visible even in the failing light, pushed against the screen door and swung it open with a bump. The body turned and stepped through the now open doorway, the swinging dick making it obvious it was a man. The motion light that snapped on above him confirmed it was Tim, completely bare-assed, carrying a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other. 

Andrew froze in place, practically invisible against the backdrop of the dark treeline behind him. Now what? Alert his naked boss to his presence? Sneak away and call someone from town to come get him? Try and get the gas can and make his escape without anybody noticing? 

Other parts of his brain were at work as well. I never knew Tim drinks wine...he doesn't, but Mrs. Nelson does...she must still be up at the pool. His brain devoted its full attention to the next step in the rapidly developing line of logic. If she's still up there, maybe she's naked, too...a new course of action was quickly added to the others, heartily endorsed by the little head between his legs. He could always try and take a look, just to see if she was...he began to formulate a plan as Tim began the climb back up the steps set in the hill. 

The other side of the shop, past the paddock, up the hill, keep to the treeline...he should be able to climb high enough to look down on the pool deck. This is stupid, he tried to tell himself. Get caught and lose your job and a few teeth. Besides, it's probably too dark to see anything, anyways. The lure was too great, and he began to move in his best movie-ninja imitation as soon as his employer's bare backside disappeared beyond the pool gate. 

"Forget something?" Gwen asked with mild amusement has her husband made his way back to her across the warm concrete.

"Didn't forget anything," Tim countered as he began to pour her glass. "Didn't figure I needed them anymore. You don't need yours any more, either, you know." 

"And what if one of them forgot something and they come back? How are you going to get from here to the house to get your shorts?"

"Hell, it ain't like I haven't been up here with 'em before when you weren't home. They know what my dick looks like. As long as none of 'em try to touch it, it's all good." He handed her the glass. "You're the one they wanted to look at tonight, anyways."

"Me? Do you think my suit is too revealing? Did I show them too much?" 

Tim laughed. "For the nineteenth century, your suit is a little racy. For today, it's fine. You showed them less than what they'd see from most women at the beach. But it's still more of you than they've ever seen before. I pretty sure you're the reason Walt made the climb up here in this heat—to check you out. He's gettin' up there in years, but he's still a horny old bastard." He made sure she had taken a couple of sips of wine before he took the glass back, set it down and embraced her. "But I think that suit doesn't do you justice, and I want you to get rid of it. Never want to see it again," he told her as their lips met. 

Andrew's stealth continued in a crouching shuffle after he passed the corral and began to climb the slope up to the back of the field. He was careful to stay as near as he dared to the trees without running the risk of breaking branches underfoot, his years of hunting experience coming to the fore as he stalked different prey. The young voyeur slowed further as he approached the level of the pool deck, checking after each step whether he could see or be seen yet. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 09



He stopped altogether when the tops of two heads came into view, illuminated by the glow from the lights of the pool itself and the abundant deck lamps. Gwen had insisted on the utmost in safety when the pool was being built, and proper lighting was a part of that. The heads came together, and Andrew hoped that would mean they were both distracted. The young man moved further up the hill to a solitary oak that stood above and not too far from the pool deck, to where he hoped to blend in with the massive trunk and look down across the water at the couple on the far side. 

He was disappointed to see Mrs. Nelson still covered from thigh to shoulder in the black suit, her back to the young man as a still-nude Tim took her in his arms. You're an idiot, the nervous voyeur thought. Mrs. Nelson would never skinnydip. The way Tim was holding her and they were kissing, though, might lead to more serious things once they got back in the house. When they went in, he decided, he'd go to the shed behind the shop, grab a can of gasoline, and head back to the truck. Getting the can back in the shed without anyone noticing would be a problem for later. 

Andrew didn't dare to hope they would not make it to the house when Tim kissed her and slid the wide straps of Gwen's top off her shoulders and down her arms. She allowed him to push them past her hands to hang at her waist before encircling her husband's neck and returning his kisses with passion. The young apprentice's cock swelled uncomfortably against the mesh liner of his shorts, his flesh understanding what was happening even before his brain could begin to believe it. He had a perfect view of Mrs. Nelson's bare back, from slender neck all the way down the waistline of the black skirt encircling her waist. 

Tim's hands roamed across the bare skin, fingers dipping down into the suit before moving to her front. Holy shit, he's playing with her tits, like it's no big deal! And she's letting him! Like she likes it! 

His boss's hands returned to view and made their way back to the waistline of the skirt. With a gentle push, it fell to Gwen's feet, presenting her toned buttocks to the young man behind her. Andrew could not believe his luck. Mrs. Nelson's naked ass! Even at this distance and in this light, he could clearly see the well-defined split of her taut cheeks. The couple remained in their embrace for some time, Tim's hands roaming over his wife's body while her arms stayed wrapped round his neck. It was only a matter of time though, before her hands dropped between them, obviously focusing on the cock trapped between their midsections.

They broke their contact after one particularly long kiss, Gwen still with her back to the young man on the hillside as she moved to the table her wineglass sat on. Andrew slumped down the tree trunk into a sitting position as he took in the scene before him, idly comparing the size of Tim's full-blown erection to his own and watching it swing stiffly as his boss turned and made his way to a nearby lounge recliner. 

Please turn around, please turn around, Andrew silently pleaded of the nude woman, and Gwen obliged after taking a sip from her glass. Proud breasts rode high on a petite frame, and a smudge of darkness between her legs marked the path to the treasure between firm thighs. The young man could resist no longer and slid his hand down the front of his shorts to free his swollen cock from the mesh net it had wrapped itself in.

The nude woman—Gwen Nelson, Andrew reminded himself, Gwen fucking Nelson!—joined her husband by the lounge chair where he was adjusting the backrest. Tim stepped back once he was satisfied and Gwen lay down on the partially reclined chair, legs together. Her naked husband straddled her, the voyeur on the hill disappointed that she was now blocked from view, at least from the waist up. Tim shuffled forward, and Andrew could not force himself to believe that prim, proper Mrs. Nelson was about to give her husband head. Despite the light and distance, he this was better than any porno he had ever watched, and he had no qualms about shedding his shorts to allow himself free access to his straining cock. 

Andrew's hand stopped it's stroking of the length it held, the owner of the tool transfixed as Gwen's legs slowly came open. Even though the shadows prevented a clear look at the jewel being revealed to him, there was enough light to show him the thatch on her mons stopped far short of the split below. He forced his hand to stay still, wanting to forestall his orgasm and enjoy the show unfolding below as the woman's hand snaked between the legs straddling her and extended a finger into the shadow. Holy Christ, she's got a cock in her mouth and she's playing with herself! Her hips began to rock slowly, in sync with her husband's motions.

It was some time before Tim backed away and reversed his straddle, now doing a push up to bring his face between her thighs, his ass apparently now in his wife's face. Gwen's hand disappeared between their bodies, apparently reaching for the staff nestled below her breasts. The young apprentice's erection begged to be touched and Andrew did his best to ignore it, knowing any such action would certainly bring about a quick and copious eruption.

Tim held this position as long as is arms would allow, his tongue obviously at work between his wife's lips, then straightened and stepped out of his straddle. He turned, and Gwen brought her legs open wider, as wide as the lounger would allow and almost erasing all the shadows that hid her treasure from their young employee. The view was fleeting as Tim kneeled between her legs and eased forward, stopping his motion long enough to ensure his wife had been properly mounted, and settled in to long, slow strokes as the woman beneath him brought her legs up about his waist.

Their pace was slow and measured, not like the frantic couplings of Andrew's limited experience. His employers were apparently very experienced with the act of fucking, despite Jordan's repeated guesses to the contrary. Wait 'til I tell him about this, the excited voyeur thought. I can't wait to rub this in his face and tell him he's wrong, that Tim and Gwen DO suck and fuck! 

What the hell am I thinking, the young man reminded himself. Hell no, I'm not telling Jordan anything! He'll tell everybody else, it'll get back to Tim, and I'll be a dead man! Or he won't believe me—pics or it never happened—and still tell everybody what I said. And I'm not telling Mike I got to see all of the ass he was hoping for a look at. No, I can't tell anyone about this, which will suck, but that's still better than not seeing this at all. 

The couple below him were quickening their pace, Tim driving harder into his wife as Gwen's hips ground her clit against his pubic bone. Delicate hands grasped convulsively at the ass between her legs as her body stiffened with the first wave of a thundering orgasm. Andrew's own hand found its way back to his cock, and he imagined it was him she was grinding against as the first spurts of come spattered his shirt. Andrew was squeezing out the last dribble as the man below him pushed his way deeply into Gwen's welcoming pussy and with a grunt that their observer could hear, emptied himself into her.

The young man froze in place, unwilling to move and clean the mess he had made on his chest and stomach, waiting to see what the Nelsons might do next. Hopefully their after-sex routine did not include a walk in the field! Thankfully, they chose a quick swim instead, and Andrew stayed where he was until the couple climbed from the water and made their way down to the house, Tim's hand on Gwen's naked rear. The young man breathed a small sigh of relief and still waited five minutes before hurrying back down the hill and on to his truck. Screw the gas, he was never here and preferred to wait for a rescue from town. The wait gave him time for another stroke session fueled by the still-vivid memories.

***

The battered blue compact pulled up the driveway at 5 minutes before two the next day, slowly, as if the driver were making decisions about whether to park or leave. Tim watched from where he sat on the tractor as the little car finally rolled to a stop and the door swung open. A petite young woman, blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail halfway down her back, stepped out and looked about a bit uncertainly. Her boots, breeches and insignia'd schooling shirt was very reminiscent of what his daughters had spent their weekends in during their childhood—in fact, other than the color of her hair and the shirt itself (much too informal for either his wife or her old boss to ever allow back then), he felt like he was looking at Gwen when they had first met. 

"Kristen—hello! I'm glad you could make it!" Gwen came hurrying out of the open barn sliders and the two women met halfway with a polite handshake. 

"Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Nelson, it really means a lot."

"Gwen, and let me introduce you to my husband, Tim. Tim, this is Kristen LaPointe."

The young woman stepped forward to shake the hand of the handsome older gentleman. "Tim Nelson. Chief manure spreader and rail fixer."

"Kristen LaPointe. You have a beautiful place here."

"Thank you. Gwen's doing, mostly. I just put stuff where she tells me to." He turned his attention to his wife. "Where are you two off to?" 

"Well, we'll see how far Kristen wants to go. I was thinking up the front side of the ridge up to the picnic spot for a view. What are your plans this afternoon?"

"Going down to the feed store—again—and then picking up some fuel filters." Tim tipped his ballcap to the young woman. "Ladies."

Gwen led the way to the barn. "Beautiful boots, Kristen. Your outfit puts me to shame, My daughters always wanted to ride in jeans and t-shirts, and I'm afraid I got lazy, too...I'm guessing you've had some formal training, then?"

"Sorry about the outfit, I wasn't sure how you'd feel about some slob showing up to ride your horses...not that I'm saying you're dressed like a slob. Sorry, I'm a little nervous. Yes, I started taking lessons when I was five and competed until I went to college." 

Proper dress or no, Gwen had decided on a series of tests for the young woman, to see if she was truly knowledgeable enough to be near her horses. "No need to be nervous, and no need to apologize. I think you've reminded me it's still "cool" to wear proper riding attire. Why don't you take my daughter's horse Tigger today—he's the Arabian." 

The young woman did not hesitate in choosing the right stall, and the horse happily accepted a scratch of his cheek. Two points to you, Gwen thought. Tigger's got a pretty good nose for horse people. 

"See a saddle you like?" Gwen asked, pointing to the laden sawhorses occupying an open stall. 

Kristen pointed to one. "I think that English hunter's, if Tigger tolerates it well." 

"He's fine with that one. Excellent choice. Need a hand with it?" Gwen was gratified to see the young woman answer by hefting the piece of leather and carry it to the waiting horse. So many of her students had expected others to do their saddling and grooming for them, as though wealth carried that privilege. Which it did, she admitted ruefully. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Kristen saddled the Arabian with practiced ease, fluid movements making it clear she had done this many times before. 

The young woman aced her last test the moment they rode from the cover of the stable, swinging Tigger gently back and forth with easy movements, testing the horse's responsiveness and biddability as one might test the handling on an unfamiliar sports car. Tigger responded as one who knew a talented and experienced rider on his back. Gwen could see the classical training even before they made the treeline above the house. 

The two women talked sparingly as they made their way up the ridge, Gwen making a couple of feeble attempts at small talk before realizing the woman really did desire the time to clear her head. She led them up the meandering trail, giving the young woman her space. 

"This part of the trail is fun for a good gallop," she said as they approached the grassy path that signaled the leadup to the overlook. "Feel like opening him up a little? Just be sure to slow up when you see the picnic table—the ground falls off pretty quickly after that, although I doubt Tigger will let you go much further anyways." Kristen smiled and nodded, and the horses and riders picked up the pace. 

The picnic table was soon in sight, and Gwen halted them in the shade. "Let's tie them up here and give them a rest for a little bit," she advised. "It may not feel like it, but that's a bit of a climb for them. C'mon, let's go sit at the table." 

The women sat side by side, a proper distance between them. "Sorry, I'm normally not very good company, and today I'm even worse," Kristen finally offered. "I've never been much of a people person. I'm sure this is not the way you had hoped to spend your afternoon."

"I'm on my horse riding with an equestrienne who know which end the bit goes in," the older woman said with a smile. "It's a good afternoon for me." 

Kristen looked at her quizzically and smiled back. "Somebody else once said that to me. Anyways, thank you for...well, thank you."

They sat in silence a moment more before Gwen made another attempt at conversation. "So, did you decide if you were going to pose for Barry?" 

"I, uh, I..." Kristen's eyes watered, and she buried her face in her hands. Great racking sobs ensued. 

Now see what you've done, poking in someone else's business! The Lady shouted. This is what happens when you don't mind your own affairs! 

"Kristen, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you—"

The distraught woman face still buried in her hands, shook her head. "I'm so sorry, it's not your fault," came her muffled reply, "it's just that..." she paused and dropped her hands, looking across the low valley. "My husband left me last week." The sobs started again as she continued to stare into space.

Gwen closed the distance between them and reached for the young woman's shoulders to hug her, the mother and teacher in her overcoming any feeble attempts by the Lady to maintain distance and propriety. "Kristen, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked. No wonder you needed to think! I'm so sorry I brought it up."

The young accepted the embrace and cried. "It's not your fault and I'm so sorry for acting this way! You shouldn't have to deal with a complete stranger over something like this!" 

"I'm a mother," Gwen soothed. "I'm used to dealing with things like this." Poor placements at jumping competitions and worries over grades? Maybe. Relationships? This is a first, the Lady sniffed. 

Kristen straightened and brought her hands down although the tears still flowed. "I'm sorry," the young woman repeated. "You're the first person I've told. It just sort of came out. I'm sorry." 

"The first? Kristen, you can't just bottle this up! You must have family and friends who you can talk to?"

The young woman shook her head miserably and dabbed at her eyes. "No close friends I trust, and my mother will just tell me I told you so." 

"Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't do that...but if you want, you can talk to me," Gwen boldly declared as the Lady shook her head in disbelief. Don't meddle where you don't belong...

"I can't burden a total stranger with this..."

"It's not a burden at all. I heard a lot when I was an instructor, and even more from my daughters. You can talk to me if it will make you feel better, and I'm sure it would. No judgements, I promise. If you feel like talking, I'm happy to listen." Kristen looked up and smiled. Gwen smiled back. "Would you feel better sitting some more or riding?"

"Riding," she sniffled. "I feel a little more in control that way." 

"So do I. C'mon, I think these guys are ready." 

The women turned their mounts and started back down the trail at a slow walk. Kristen smiled weakly, the first time Gwen had seen her do so that day. "You do have that instructory feel," the young woman said as she stared down the tree-lined path. My riding instructors were the only ones I ever really talked to about things. And I guess you've got a mothery feel, too, although I don't think I'm exactly sure what that is. My mother is a good person and I love her, but I've always felt like she was my wild and crazy aunt." Gwen smiled and let her continue. "Call me Cricket," she announced as if making an important decision. "My instructors always called me Cricket." 

"Well, that's an interesting nickname. How did you come about that?"

"My very first instructor decided I chirped like a cricket, so she started calling me Kristen the Cricket, then just Cricket, and it stuck. But my mother and...Daniel...always call me Kristen, because they think it's more dignified. Daniel has always hated my nickname, so, yeah call me that, please."

"This must have been quite a shock for you," Gwen volunteered, feeling for some reason she had to keep the young woman talking, but unsure what the proper protocol was for doing so with jilted lovers.

Cricket sighed heavily. "No, not really. I knew it was coming. We wanted different...things...that we couldn't give each other. So, he left."

"Was having your pictures taken was one of those things?"

The young woman let loose a short, humorless laugh. "Gwen, I'm really sorry, but I wasn't completely honest with you that day in the studio. The photo shoot wasn't his idea, it was all mine. He had no idea I was there. Daniel is, umm, very conservative if you know what I mean, and I was thinking it might be a way to loosen him up a little and take his mind off what he really wanted."

"I see." Gwen wondered if it was polite to ask what her husband wanted, or if she really wanted to know. Men only wanted one thing...

"And I couldn't give him what he wanted, at least some of it not right now, and some of it, probably never. Daniel wants me to have babies, stay at home, and take care of house and family. I do want kids some day, but I want a career first. My job at the bank doesn't pay much, but it's a great place to start climbing the ladder, and I don't want to give that up. I had a pretty good idea that's what he wanted even before we got married, but I thought I might be able to change his mind. Guess not." 

They rode on in silence for bit, Gwen unsure what else she could say. "Do you want him to come back?" 

Cricket thought on the question for a moment. "No," she said finally, "This was bound to happen sooner or later. We're two very different people. I mean, when I met him in college, I thought he was so different from the boys I had dated before, so serious about things, somebody I could discuss my business classes with. My mother always said to marry a rich, older man, and Daniel certainly acted older, just without the money. But once we got married and moved in together...I thought I was conservative, but he's in a class by himself. I felt like we were living like a couple nearing retirement. I really don't want to give my Mom the chance to say I told you so."

"She's your mother," Gwen reasoned. "She'd never do that."

Cricket laughed again. "Mom has made a career out of marrying rich old guys. She's on number four. For the most part, it seemed to work for her. I have a feeling as soon as she hears about this she's going to get to work matching me up with some middle-aged guy with a huge portfolio and a heart condition. Anyways," the young rider sighed, "one of the reasons I wanted to come and ride today is because Daniel is coming by the apartment this afternoon to get his things. I really didn't want to be there and make promises I wouldn't want to keep if I caved." 

"You deserve the life you want, not the life he wants," Gwen said softly. "If not with him, maybe someone else someday." 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 09



"Doubtful," the young woman snorted. "I really don't do well around people—I would much rather be around horses and financial statements. And I'm really, really, sorry for dumping all this on you, but like I said, you just remind me of my riding instructors—you love your horses just like they loved theirs, I love horses, and I would talk to them when something was really bothering me. Marvin's the only other one I ever talk to about important things."

"Is Marvin a friend?"

"Marvin's my horse. Drury's Farms' Marvelous Magistrate. He's at a stable in Palm Beach right now, near my Mom. She always calls him Marvel—thinks it sounds more regal, but he's not regal. He's just Marvin. He's down there because Daniel and I couldn't afford to board him up here, and Mom said she'd take care of it for now. Anyways, thank you for letting me ride today. Both you and Tigger have been a huge help. Tomorrow's going to be a test, but at least I can go to work on Monday."

"We can ride tomorrow, too," Gwen quickly offered, a plan escaping her lips before the Lady could intervene. "Have dinner with Tim and me tonight, stay here, and tomorrow morning we can take a ride around the other side of the ridge. 

"Oh, Gwen, that's very nice of you, but I can't impose like that. You and Tim—"

"Weren't doing anything tonight anyways. Have dinner with us, you can sleep in Ali's room, and tomorrow we pack a lunch and take a longer ride." 

"I didn't bring a change of clothes or anything. I really should get back to the apartment and see what my husband—my ex-husband," Cricket declared—"took."

"If he took it, it will still be gone when you go back tomorrow," Gwen reasoned. "You probably haven't eaten or slept since, this..." The older woman remembered how disruptions in her daughters' love lives had almost always been announced via crying fits, sleepless nights and a lack of appetite. Gwen had not consoled Ali or KD much during those times, believing that it would make them stronger to muddle through on their own, to understand how boys were; she knew now that had been a horrible mistake and was determined to not stand by while the woman next to her was forced to do the same. "Between what Alison didn't take with her and my own things, I'm sure we can get you squared away with something to wear tonight."

"That's really very nice of you, but—"

"But you're staying. That's final." Gwen spurred Dart into a gallop, cutting off any objection as the young woman was left ten yards behind.

The pair broke into the field above the house a half-hour later. Gwen watched with satisfaction as Cricket began to unsaddle and groom her mount, then excused herself for a moment and headed to the house. 

Tim answered his phone on the third ring. "Hey, honey."

"Hi Tim, I'm glad you're still out."

"I miss you, too!"

"That's not what I meant. I need you to pick some things up for dinner on your way home. Kristen is staying with us tonight. She's having problems at home," Gwen said before lowering her voice despite being in the kitchen. "Her husband left her and she's got no one to talk to." 

"Well, that sucks," Tim agreed. "Sure, of course, what do you need? Is she just staying for dinner?"

"Staying the night if I have my say. I'll take her riding again tomorrow to get her mind off things." 

"Sure, OK, of course." Tim took the list from her and promised to be home as soon as possible. This was turning stranger by the minute. Gwen had always been a 'charity begins at home' type of person, never involving herself in the affairs of others, even staying out of her daughters' intimate lives unless it was absolutely necessary. Ali and KD had known that as well, going to Natalie or their father with anything of a personal nature. Hell, it had been him, not Gwen, that KD had come to with her pregnancy scare. And yet now his wife appeared to be playing mother—or at least, older sister—to the young woman at their house. People do change, Tim told himself, people do change. 



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 10



Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

Chapter 10 

Gwen returned to the barn to find Dart already unsaddled, Gwen noting with appreciation that her young friend had properly arranged both horses' saddles in the proper places. The two horses were turned loose in the paddock a short time later, Dancer making her annoyance over their disappearance known. 

"How about a swim before I start making dinner?" Gwen asked as she shut the gate. 

"Before WE start making dinner," Cricket corrected. "At least let me help you. I'm not fancy in the kitchen, but I've cooked for myself since I could reach the stove and most of the time I don't burn stuff. A swim would be nice, but I don't have anything I could wear. There's one of Daniel's business suits in the car that I picked up from the cleaners before...well, before, but no bathing suit."

"I'm sure we can take care of that. I've got some things that might be a little big for you but should fit alright in a pinch, and maybe Ali has something. C'mon in the house." The women crossed the yard to the kitchen and went straight to the master bedroom. "I've got a bikini top that might work for you," Gwen told the young woman, "and I'm not sure how you feel about wearing someone else's bottoms, so how about a pair of gym shorts?"

"If you clean your clothes as well as you clean your house, I'm sure the bottoms will be fine," Cricket told her. "I doubt a top of yours is going to fit me, though. You're pretty well-endowed compared to me. I'm in between an A and a B cup." The young woman began to volunteer that she would be fine in her sports bra, but hesitated, unsure how her host might feel about her husband seeing her in it should he return early.

"I'm just a B cup myself," the older woman said as she pulled a bikini from its hiding spot in her underwear drawer. "Try these on and—" she ducked into the closet for a beach wrap—here's something extra if you like. Bathroom's through there, just leave your clothes on the floor and I'll throw them in the wash before we eat."

The young woman looked at her uncertainly, then headed for the open door on the other side of the bedroom. "Be right out." 

Gwen began to strip as soon as the door closed, ignoring the Lady's suggestion to use the other bathroom, the one with a lock on it, to change. She was settling her breasts into the cups of her own bikini when the bathroom door opened. 

"The top's a little big, but it should work," Cricket said uncertainly. "Are you sure you don't mind me wearing this?" 

"Of course I'm sure," Gwen reassured her. "Are the bottoms okay?"

"They're fine." Cricket eyed the older woman, and decided that Gwen's lack of coverup meant she could go without as well. 

"Do you drink alcohol?" Gwen asked over her shoulder as she collected some towels and headed for the kitchen. 

"Sometimes. Beer and wine. Mostly wine. "

"Wine it is, then. White or red?" 

"Uhh, red, but please don't make a fuss." 

A bottle and two glasses were collected, and the women went up the hill together. "What a lovely spot," Cricket said softly as they stepped through the gate.

"Thank you. Tim built it for me and the children right after KD was born. It helps that's he's a contractor—he called in some favors and he and his friends worked on it on weekends. We paid them in beer and got the materials at cost. The barn got here the same way, even before the pool." 

"You're very lucky." The younger woman's tone made it clear that she was thinking of her own situation, and Gwen didn't know how to respond. 

"Thank you," she finally repeated and handed Cricket a full glass. Gwen was the first in the pool, wading in until she was waist-deep. Cricket followed behind her, diving forward as soon as the water turned deep enough, a strong kick sending her gliding halfway across the pool floor before turning back to Gwen as the bottom fell off quickly. With a strong push, she broke the surface. The top was indeed a little too big, and the cups covering the young woman's breasts resisted the flow of water between excess fabric and flesh and pulled the bikini down. Pert breasts topped with delicate pink nipples glistened in the sunlight. 

I guess she is a little smaller than me, Gwen mused as it took the young woman a moment to realize she was completely exposed from the waist up. "Whoops!" she cried, dropping back down below the surface while scrambling to rearrange the top and cover herself. "This is so embarrassing! I'm really sorry!" 

Gwen laughed. "Don't be. They're just breasts. I have them, too—you saw mine, remember?" The Lady clucked reproachfully over the casualness of it all.

"Yes, but I asked to see yours—you didn't just up and flash me!" 

"I offered to show you mine. It's fine, please don't be embarrassed. I've seen breasts before. As a matter of fact, if you're comfortable without the top on, feel free to just take it off." 

Cricket eyed her curiously, as if weighing her decision. "No, I really shouldn't..."

"Then let me help you tie it a little tighter," Gwen told her as she began to wade across the pool. "C'mon, turn around." 

The rest of the swim passed without any further wardrobe malfunctions, the young woman more cautious in her movements, Gwen talking with her as if nothing had happened. They had changed and started dinner by the time Tim returned. 

The wine and fatigue loosened Cricket's tongue as the trio sat on the deck and ate, Tim clearing the plates while the women talked horses and riding, the failed marriage discussed in vague terms. The sun had set and the young woman's words had begun to slur a bit by the time Tim excused himself and made his way across the yard to bed down the horses for the evening. 

"He seems like a really good man," Cricket said as she watched him walk across the grass. "Not that I'm an expert. You're very lucky."

"He is, and I am." More than you could ever imagine, she added silently.

"Did he, uhh, like it when you took those pictures?"

"I think he did, yes." 

"No, I mean, REALLY like them? Like, did he, uhh, show you how much, in there?" Cricket flicked her eyes at the house behind her, and Gwen correctly assumed she didn't mean the kitchen. She surprised herself by not being too offended or embarrassed to answer. 

"He did," Gwen admitted with a smile. "I was... I was nervous he wouldn't like them, but it made things—made me—more fun...which I think he especially liked."

"I was hoping I would be able do the same for Daniel," Cricket replied, again glancing back at the house meaningfully. "I'm the one who was looking for a little more excitement. He didn't seem to like doing...that...very much...kind of made it seem like it was a chore and that I was a pervert even for wanting to make things a little more exciting."

"A good sex life is important," Gwen reassured her. "It took me a long time to understand that. Just because you wanted your husband's attention in there—"Gwen's eye motion mimicked the young woman's and Cricket laughed—"doesn't make you a pervert." 

"I bet if he would have been more interested if I had told him I was off my birth control...at least until he knocked me up..." the young woman's eyelids began to sag.

"How long since you last slept?"

Her eyes remained partially closed. "An hour or two a night since he left...wasn't sleeping really well even before that." 

Gwen gently took the wineglass from her hand. "Time for bed. Sleep as late as you want, we'll ride whenever you feel like getting up." 

Cricket didn't fight her, rising from her chair. "I'll try, I don't know if I can..."

Gwen smiled and led her to Ali's room. "I left one of her nightshirts on the bed for you. Bathroom's across the hall if you need it. Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen. Sleep well." She smiled and shut the door behind her.

Gwen next stop was the laundry room to sort out Cricket's now-clean clothes. While her outer attire was top of the line, her underwear was worn and frayed, almost in danger of falling apart. She sensed the young woman's tales of young married life-induced poverty had not been exaggerated.

The owners of the house tiptoed through it as they prepared for bed, not wishing to wake their guest. On impulse, Gwen peeked in to Cricket's room, as she had for her own daughters so many times. The young woman had managed to change into what had been laid out for her but had not been able or willing to climb under the covers and now lay sprawled on her stomach, fast asleep. The shirt had ridden up to reveal the fact that Cricket had elected not to wear her shorts to sleep in, and Gwen looked down appreciatively at a well-toned bare bottom. With a smile, she took a blanket from a nearby chair and laid it over the sleeping woman to help keep her warm and preserve her modesty, then quietly shut the door behind her. 

She found Tim in their bedroom, already lying down, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. She again smiled, remembering it had been months since he had worn anything to bed, then stripped down to just her t-shirt and joined him. 

"She asleep?" he whispered, knowing Gwen had always tried to keep things as quiet as possible on this side of the house when Ali and KD had been younger, recalling the time she demanded he do something to silence the squeaking of the bedsprings during their Saturday night lovemaking sessions. She had not been terribly happy about the outlay of cash for the memory foam mattress that had been his solution, although he thought it a good investment if it at least meant him getting laid once a week. 

Gwen nodded, paused as if in thought, then pulled down the front of his gym shorts and bent at the waist to deliver a kiss to the tip of his slumbering cock. The soft length began to awaken as she took the pink head between her lips. Now confident her advances were welcome, she worked at pushing down the waistband just far enough to give her complete access to his member while leaving the shorts on should they be interrupted.

Tim looked down at the head lying on his stomach, somewhat befuddled by Gwen's aggressiveness. Lovemaking when the girls had been here was always under the covers, in the dark, long after their daughters had gone to bed. And yet, the fact a guest—really, a stranger, lay sleeping just one room over didn't seem to bother her at all. He was only too happy to go with the flow this evening and his hand began to work its way between her asscheeks, headed for what was between her legs. "Aren't you afraid Cricket might come in?"

Gwen hips shifted to make herself more available to his exploring fingers. "She'll knock." 

Despite the presence of their guest just down the hall, Gwen took her time, teasing and tempting and bringing him close to orgasm before backing him down, Tim pleasantly frustrated by this new tactic. It was some time before she stopped teasing and gave him his release, her husband's semen seeming to fill her mouth before she disposed of it with a gulp even as her tongue continued to clean his spongy head. The perverted act triggered her own orgasm, and she struggled not to clamp down on the flesh between her lips. Natalie's right, the Slut mused as his penis began to soften. Not too terrible to swallow. Not great, but not bad. A very slutty thing to do. The thought pleased her. 

Gwen looked up to see her husband with his eyes closed, a grin on his face. "What was that for?" he whispered.

"Because you're a really good man." 

***

"Hey Mom, I'm coming up riding this morning. You going to be around?" Ali's voice, perky and energetic even at 7am, was loud and clear through the telephone handset. 

"Well, you're up early this morning."

"Yeah, Jason's going golfing and he got me up with him." The young woman didn't volunteer that the reason he had awoken her was to deliver a primal doggystyle fucking in the belief that pre-golf sex helped a man's game. It was a ritual she certainly had no problems reinforcing. "So, are you free?"

"Well, I have a guest here, once she gets up we're going for a ride. If you want to come with us, you're more than welcome."

"A guest? Anyone I know?" My mother has a guest? That's new...

"Oh, I doubt it. Somebody I met recently. She's been having a tough time and wanted to go riding to take her mind off things, so I offered to let her take Tigger out yesterday. She stayed the night and we're going around the other side of the ridge this morning."

Is this my mother I'm talking to? Ali asked herself. A "guest", in her home, near her horses? "Yeah, that would be great. I'll be over in a little bit. Wait for me?"

"We will. Cricket isn't up yet, and I'm hoping she sleeps in this morning—I think she needs it."

Cricket. My mother has somebody named Cricket sleeping in her house. This I have to see. 

The young houseguest had not arisen by the time Ali arrived forty five minutes later. "I didn't see daddy's truck," the young woman said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. 

"He's went fishing with Mr. Culbertson this morning," She had warned Tim about staying away from the beaches with the naked people, to which he reminded her with a shrug and a smile that it was Charlie's boat, and Charlie was driving.

"So, where'd you meet...Cricket?" Alison as she sat down at the table.

Gwen paused. "She was at the photographer's the same time as your Aunt and I. We, uhh, struck up a conversation and she mentioned she rode. I told her if she ever wanted to get out for a bit to let me know, and she called a couple of days ago." 

"Uh-huh. And any topics of discussion I should avoid talking about?" The blank look on Gwen's face prompted Ali to be more specific. "You said she was having a rough time. Anything she might not want to hear?" 

"You don't have to tiptoe around me," Cricket said quietly as she appeared around the corner. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. My husband left me this week," she said matter-of-factly, "and a couple of things reduced me to a blubbering wreck yesterday—sorry again, Gwen--but your mother's hospitality, a good meal with a little too much wine and a decent night's sleep have gotten me over the shock, at least I think so."

Gwen rose from the table. "Cricket, you're up! I'd like you to meet my daughter—"

"Alison," her guest said, extending her hand. "I recognized you from the pictures in your room."

"I'm sorry to hear about your...well, troubles. Men can be such jerks sometimes."

"Thank you, but I'm feeling better today other than this touch of a hangover, thanks to your mother, although I can't guarantee there aren't more crying fits in my future."

"Alison called this morning and wanted to come up to ride," Gwen told the young woman. "Do you mind if she comes with us?"

"Of course not! If you'd rather it be just a mother-daughter thing, I can just get dressed and go..."

Don't be silly! We want you to come along with us! I was just starting to pack some lunches—I think we'll be out a while. What would you like for breakfast and for later?" 

The trio finished their preparations and headed for the barn, Gwen and Alison to their own horses, Cricket to a seemingly pleased Tigger. "So, Mom said you two met at the photographer's when you were looking at pictures?" Ali asked over her shoulder as she hefted a saddle onto Dancer's back. 

"Yes, your mother let me look through her album to see if it was something I felt comfortable doing for my hus—for Daniel."

Gwen panicked, desperately trying to figure out a way to keep her secret from being exposed. Alison looked at her mother quizzically. "Wait—you never said you and Aunt Natalie were there to see photos of you?" 

"We weren't. Your Aunt—" Gwen began before the Lady screamed for her to stay quiet. "Can we talk about this later?" she asked weakly.

Cricket looked at the panicked face of the older woman, then back at the smile of her daughter. "Oh God, I shouldn't have said anything—I'm so sorry—I didn't stop to think—I'm so sorry." 

"It's alright," Gwen soothed. "You didn't know. Yes, Alison, I had some photos taken by this photographer. Your aunt recommended him. Can we finish saddling up and ride, please?"

"What kind of photos? And why were you there with Aunt Natalie?" Alison would not let go of that damnable I've got you smile...

"Later Alison, please?" The young woman nodded, her smile still there, then went back to cinching her saddle.

The tension dissipated as they made their way up the hill, the women riding through the morning and into early afternoon, pausing for breaks here and there. Gwen was thankful for her daughter's presence as Ali's efforts to get their companion talking was mostly successful, bringing Cricket out of her shell just a little at a time. She never seemed to steer the conversation towards the topic of relationships and yet it just seemed to occasionally land there among the talk of regional shows and noted trainers, Gwen feeling like she learned more about her Alison's love life in one ride than she had during all of her daughter's years at home. Cricket's too; it seemed her husband made even the old Gwen positively wild and daring by comparison.

The riders made their way out of the treeline and down to the barn in the early afternoon's blazing sun. The horses were groomed and turned out, happy to be back in their paddock after an unusually long ride. 

"A swim and a glass of wine by the pool?" Ali suggested as they trudged across the lawn. 

"Sure, why not," her mother replied. "Cricket, are you joining us?" 

"Maybe one glass," she said after a moment's hesitation. "as much as I'd like to, I can't stay here forever." 

"You can stay as long as you like," Gwen insisted. "C'mon, let's get our suits."

The trio eventually straggled back into the kitchen from their respective changing spots. Ali looked at her mother and laughed. "Well, Cricket, I'd say you've earned Mom's trust. My mother has worn a one-piece granny suit ever since I can remember, so the bikini she's in right now is really stepping out for her!" 

"Alison, stop that!" The older woman admonished. "This is nothing out of the ordinary." 

"Given that I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you wearing it, I'd say it is."

"She wore one yesterday," Cricket volunteered as if to stand up for her new-found friend, "and she loaned me this one. I think I shocked her when my top slipped off." 

Alison arched her eyebrows in surprise. "Mother! What exactly we're you two doing yesterday?"

"Stop that! It wasn't tied tightly enough, that's all! She doesn't have my middle-aged spread to help keep it up!"

Alison laughed at her mother's discomfort and leaned into Cricket conspiratorally "Don't worry, a little flashing is nothing to be ashamed of around here. Mom may not flaunt it when she's around family and friends, but when it's just her and Daddy she doesn't wear anything at all to swim in." 

"Alison Marie Nelson, I swear if you don't—" 

Her daughter laughed again and held up her hands in self-defense. "Alright, alright, sorry, probably too much information. Shall we go cool off?" 

The women alternated between wading, paddling and sunning for the next hour, not talking much, just enjoying the sun and the wine. "Well, I should really be going," Alison finally announced. "Need to go grocery shopping before the week starts." The women wrapped themselves in their towels and made their way down to the house. 

"C'mon," Alison said as she led the way, "we'll get you something clean and dry to wear for your drive home." Mother, daughter, and guest, now all dressed, met back in the kitchen a few minutes later. 

"I really have to get going. Cricket, it was really nice to meet you," Alison said, extending her hand. "I hope you come back again."




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 10



"You can come back next weekend, if you like," Gwen quickly interjected, much to her daughter's amusement. 

"Thanks, that's very nice of you, but you're right—I really need to tell my mother. I'm going to drive down to her place next weekend and tell her what happened in person. I can use it as an excuse to spend time with Marvin." She seemed to hesitate a moment, then brushed past Alison's hand and gave her a tentative hug, as if she were inexperienced in the act. "Thank you both," she said, on the edge of tears. "I don't know what I would have done at the apartment this weekend. You and your mother are godsends." She broke the embrace and moved to Gwen, their hug even longer and more fervent. 

"That's my mom," Alison said, all the while thinking, that's not at all my Mom. At least it wasn't. 

Gwen walked the two women out to their cars. "Cricket, I expect you to call me with updates, or if you just want to talk," she said firmly. "If you don't, I'll be calling you."

"I really don't want to bother you," the young woman said tentatively.

"If I don't hear from you young lady, you'll be hearing from me."

"I'll try. I promise."

Alison hugged her mother. "I still want to know about what you and Aunt Natalie were up to," she murmured in her ear before pulling away and heading for her car. Soon the yard was empty, and Gwen stood there, thoughts of what to tell her daughter alternating with an overall concern for Cricket. 



Tim returned as Gwen was finishing dinner preparations. The couple shared their day as they ate, Gwen telling her husband of the embarrassment she had felt over Alison's discoveries and sharing of secrets, Tim detailing the local trade gossip Charlie always seem to have a wealth of. 

"And did you go to those beaches he likes to go to?"

Tim laughed nervously. "Yeah, he did a slow drive by at the party cove. I think he wanted to stay a while, but I told him it looked like we were a couple of dirty old bastards in a bass boat hanging out with a bunch of day cruisers full of partiers."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Did he see what he wanted to see?" Tim guessed that the question was actually aimed at him as well.

"Well, yeah, I guess he did..." Tim replied, stressing the 'he'. Admitting to be being in the proximity of women wearing little or nothing was still dangerous territory, and the more he distanced himself from it, the better. "I mean, a lot of the girls were topless, and few didn't have their bottoms on, either...but there were guys who stripped down, too! Some of women gave Charlie a little show." 

"A little show? Like how?" 

"You know...dancing around, shaking their boobs, or holding them up and squeezing them together, bending over and sticking out their butts...stuff like that. Some of the girls pretended they were making out with each other."

"And the men that were with them didn't care that they were doing that?" 

"Nah, they just held their beers for 'em and cheered 'em on." 

Gwen said no more on the subject, and Tim wondered if she might be upset that he had been present for the lewd display. If she was, she was hiding it well, he decided, and the couple settled in for a quiet evening of TV. 

"Wouldn't you have been mad if I had done that?" Gwen asked out of the blue, two hours later.

Tim looked at her, confusion evident. "Done what?" 

"Made a spectacle of myself in front of strange men. Like those women you and Charlie saw today. And you said their husbands didn't even seem to care." 

Her husband laughed. "Sorry, but I can't even begin to imagine you all liquored up and carrying on like that, so I guess I'd be too shocked to be angry."

"Yes, but what if I did? Wouldn't you be mad?"

Tim thought for a moment. "Nah, can't say that I would be. Those people on the boats seemed to be having a good time, Charlie had a good time, nobody got hurt. Al Murphy didn't seem too upset."

Al Murphy, owner of Murphy Motors, where they had bought their trucks for years now. "What in Heaven's name does Al Murphy have to do with this?" 

"I'm almost positive I saw Al on one of the boats, and almost as sure Margaret was there, too."

"You have to be kidding me! They must have had their clothes on, right?"

"Al did—thank God, that is not something I would want to see—but Margaret, it was her—there were a couple of guys in front of her...well, she was definitely topless, and if she was wearing bottoms, they didn't do a good job of covering anything." 

A mental image of the woman she had always seen sitting on the other side of the desk at the dealership filled Gwen's head. Co-owner along with her husband, Margaret Murphy was a tall, stately woman in her mid-50s, her dyed-blonde hair impeccably styled, the conservative business suit she always wore when negotiating Nelson Plumbing's next truck purchase unable to hide the fact she had a truly impressive pair of breasts. Others had snickered for years that had she presented her boobs in a more suggestive fashion, Murphy Motors might have sold a thousand more cars. That was not her style, though, Gwen knew her to be a conservative business leader who succeeded through tough negotiating rather than physical distraction.

"Oh, I'm sure it couldn't be her," Gwen said uncertainly. "I can't imagine she would ever be seen near any party like that."

"Well, you might be right," Tim answered in a tone that made it clear there was no uncertainty in his mind. 

"How about you? Did you enjoy the show the women gave you? Margaret wasn't one of them, right?" The Slut presented a brief mental image of those massive boobs, presented in all their naked glory, being thrust out at Gwen's husband.

Tim felt like he was again entering dangerous territory. "No, no, she was on the boat next to Al's talking with some guys. The other women, well, they were happy to show off, and I'm a guy and we're trained to look...you're a lot more fun to look at though, because I get to look and touch." 

Gwen gave him a smile that showed she appreciated his effort to make her feel special, but doubted whether it was true. "Uh-huh."

The subject was again dropped, and the couple's attention was drawn back to the TV. It was some time before Gwen rose from her chair and moved to the other side of the coffee table, facing her still-seated husband. Uh-oh, he thought, I'm about to get lectured. He was surprised to hear her tone was soft and inquisitive rather than stern. "The women who were showing off, did they start out naked, or did they take their clothes off first?" 

"You mean the women at the lake today?"

"How many women are giving you shows? Of course!"

"Uhh, already naked, I guess?"

Gwen quickly peeled off her t-shirt and bra, then discarded both jeans and panties with one push to her ankles. "So, what did they do to make you look?" 

Tim stared at the naked woman in front of him. "Uhh, well they danced around, you know shaking their boobs and butt. That kind of thing." 

Gwen thought a moment and began to swing and undulate, turning in place as she wiggled her bottom at her seated husband. "Sorry, I'm not very good," she apologized as her ass swung back and forth suggestively. "Am I doing it right?"

"You're very good," Tim disagreed, "and you're doing it better than I ever imagined." 

She turned back to him, her hips still swaying. "And you said they made their breasts shake?" 

Without waiting for answer, Gwen stopped the motion of her lower body and began twisting her chest back and forth as she looked down to check on the swing of her pert mounds. 

Tim was fascinated, but also had to stifle a laugh at the display of concentration Gwen appeared to be putting into getting her small mounds to violently wobble. "Just like that," he encouraged. 

"Whew, that's quite a workout," she said, stopping her movement and looking up at her husband. "I guess I'm too small to really get them to move much." 

"I think they looked great," Tim offered.

"So, what else did they do?"

"Well, they stuck their chests out and pushed their boobs up. A couple of 'em even licked their nipples like that." Tim wondered if he had overstepped his bounds with that one. 

Gwen bent forward at the waist and mimicked what her husband had described, looking down to ensure proper form. "Well, I'm definitely too small to do that last part," she laughed. 

"I can do that for you later..." 

Gwen straightened and let go of her breasts, the mounds bouncing once before settling high on her chest. "What else did they do?"

Tim could not believe his luck. "They, uhh, showed us their asses—they turned around and stuck them out at us." 

"Like this?" 

"Well, they spread their legs some, too..." His heart nearly skipped a beat as Gwen presented her upturned ass, her pussy and asshole now clearly on display. "And one of them reached between her legs and started touching herself." 

The naked woman put one hand on the floor to steady herself while the other reached between her legs and began to trace a line down her slit. 

This is too fucking good to be true, Tim mused. Why not push for more? "And one of 'em reached further up and started playing with her, uhh, asshole." 

"Tim!" came the voice from the other side of the legs in front of him. "Just how close did you two have to get to see that!?" Her middle finger crept up, hesitating briefly before beginning to draw circles around her crinkled opening.

"Uh, maybe thirty feet, I don't know," he said distractedly, intent on watching what her finger did next. "Charlie was driving." 

"So you mentioned," she said, straightening and turning back to him. "Whew! That made the blood go to my head."

"Me too," he said with a grin as he rose. "Want to go lie down for a bit?" Gwen smiled at him in reply as she walked past on the way to the bedroom.

"You certainly look ready to go," she said as she lay there watching him undress, his erection slapping against his stomach with an audible pop as he freed it from his shorts. 

"That's your fault for teasing me like that. I hope you're prepared to take care of it." Tim hurried on to the bed next to his wife and took her in his arms. 

"I'd be glad to." Gwen took hold of his engorged length and lightly shook it. "Did you get like this with those women on the lake?" 

"He got a little interested, yeah," Tim admitted, "but nothing like the effect your show had. They were just drunk. You're sexy as all hell." 

Hands and fingers explored naked flesh while tongues danced, two orgasms building. Tim broke their embrace, and Gwen opened her legs in anticipation of being mounted. The man above her had other ideas, however, and with a wink, reached over her prone body to open the nightstand drawer beside her. Gwen blushed a bit when he withdrew her latest acquisition, the short (well, shorter than the other one, she reminded herself) fat one and held it out. "Hadn't seen this one before. Use it for me?" 

Gwen gingerly took the rubber cudgel from her husband's hand and looked up at him uncertainly. The calm determination in his face left no doubt as to whether she should. Closing her eyes, she poised it before her opening, then pushed it forward to let the head rest between her inner lips. 

The weight next to her on the bed shifted, and something hot, soft and slightly salty was laid on her other lips. Gwen kissed it even as a callused finger found her clit and began to circle. She slid the mass between her legs in slowly, savoring the feel of being ever so slightly stretched as the bulbous head plowed its way into her. Gwen turned her head to accept Tim's cock more fully, and the finger on her clit continued to circle. She reveled in the feeling of both her openings being filled, and wondered what it might be like to add a third—touching herself back there had certainly been pleasant, maybe something a bit more...nothing large, that would be painful, but something else...

For the second time that weekend Gwen had to remind herself not to bit down on the thing in her mouth as her orgasm pulsed through her, a particularly strong wave making almost making her groan ever so slightly around the cock she held firmly between her lips. 

Tim bided his time while she came, his finger and cock both frozen in place as he watched her shudder through her climax, waiting until she appeared to relax before removing himself from her mouth and straddling her chest. Gwen's watched and felt her husband's cock press into the valley between her breasts as he leaned over her, hands pushing into the pillow on either side of her head,. "Push your tits together for me," he grumbled, and she hurried to do so, leaving the dildo firmly lodged in her opening. 

He groaned as the soft flesh enveloped him, and his hips had a mind of their own as they pistoned his cock back and forth. Gwen watched in fascination as the serpent seemed to strain to reach her lips, and she stifled a giggle at the absurd thought of a forked tongue flicking out of the little mouth as it was pulled open at the apex of its thrust. On Tim's final push it was not a snake's tongue but a white jet that leapt forward. Gwen instinctively closed her eyes a millisecond before a hot bolt of wetness struck the tip of her nose and painted a gooey line across her eye. Several more pulses landed on her cheek and lips, each making her recoil into the pillow as they struck, before the serpent's flicking tongue weakened enough to coat the underside of her chin. 

Tim scrambled off the bed even as the last spurt found its target. "Shit—I'm really sorry about that—really shitty aim—don't open your eyes!" He hurried back from the bathroom with a washcloth, already fearful of the wrath he likely had incurred. Gwen's eyes were still tightly screwed shut, her body shaking, he realized as he approached the bed. To his amazement, the shaking was laughter she dared not let escape through lips tightly pursed due the strand of his semen across them. His panic made him debate the merits of where to start cleaning, finally deciding to work down from where the first jet hit her. Gwen felt the cloth on her eyelid and gently took it from him to expedite the job. 

Gwen took a swipe across her lips and let loose the laugh that she had been stifling, a sound that brought Tim hope that perhaps he was not going to be sleeping on the couch tonight. "When you said to keep my eyes closed, I thought that you had another surprise for me, and I couldn't imagine what you could follow up with after that!" 

"Sorry, sorry," Tim repeated. "That stuff can sting when you get it in your eye. I didn't realize I had that much pressure stored up. I wasn't aiming there!" 

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked with a smile. "Natalie said a lot of men like to do that." 

"No, really, it was an accident!" Not completely true, he silently conceded. He had had a good idea where that first shot was going to land even has it came thundering up the length of his cock, and a desire to watch it happen had overridden his sense of what his wife might find objectionable. Each subsequent pulse had been another opportunity to correct the mistake, but he remained fascinated with the results until his orgasm had passed and common sense again took over. "Natalie said that?"

"Uh-huh," Gwen replied as she arched her neck to wipe the remains of his orgasm from below her chin. "She said Adam does it sometimes, like he's marking his territory. Anyway, can you warn me next time? I never realized how fast that stuff comes flying out! And so hot, too!" She smiled up at her husband and handed him the washcloth. "Did I get it all?"

"I think so." 

Next time, Tim thought as he lay there waiting for sleep. She said that like she expected there to be a next time. He fell asleep imagining nasty ways he could make that happen.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 11



"Did you enjoy the show?"

The young apprentice froze, bent over his toolbox with his back to the person asking the question. Mrs. Nelson, Andrew thought, his brain pairing the voice with an image of her naked and spread for her also-naked husband. The first blast of fear-driven adrenaline surged through him and his cock waffled between engorging from the memory or shrinking in panic over the idea that she knew what he had been doing Friday night.

"Uhh, sorry?" He continued to stare into the collection of tools below him, stalling as he tried to come up with a way to explain his way out of this mess.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she repeated. "Didn't you go to see your brother's band?" 

Andrew felt light headed as the adrenaline ran its course. "Oh, yeah, I did, thanks," he stammered as he concentrated on rummaging through his collection of wrenches. "Did you have a nice weekend?" 

"Very nice. thank you." Andrew continued to intently scan his toolbox until the woman behind him decided the shy young man was not up for a conversation today and moved on to speak with Walt about his retirement paperwork. Images of a very nude and naughty Gwen Nelson were bright and clear even as his nerves calmed, images he had used to pleasure himself quite a few times over the weekend. 

"Andrew!" Tim's shout brought back the panic, the young man convinced his boss had somehow caught him thinking about his wife before he was able to calm himself enough to hope that was impossible. 

"Yeah, Tim?"

"You're riding with me today, buttercup. Grab your stuff and get in. We got customers waiting!" 

Again the adrenaline flowed and panic surged. Andrew had been riding with Walt on a daily basis for a while now, actually doing more than a fair share of the actual work while Walt "supervised". Why the change in routine?

They were on the road a couple of minutes later, the young apprentice distraught with uncertainty. Did Tim know? Was he about to get his ass kicked and fired in one explosive burst?

"Andrew, there's something I wanna talk to you about..." 

Oh shit, here it comes, the young man thought, and started looking for places alongside the road where he might be able to leap from the moving vehicle if it came down to violence.

"You probably guessed that with Walt retiring, we're gonna need another plumber so we can keep up the pace. You know Eric Andersen?" The young apprentice nodded, unable to comprehend how any of this had anything to do with jerking off while watching his bosses have sex. "We're hiring him to take Walt's place. He's gonna start next week. You're the only apprentice who knows about this so far, so I'd appreciate it if you would keep it to yourself until we tell Jordan and Mike."

"Sure Tim, yeah..." Okay, maybe I'm not about to get fired, Andrew dared hope. Still, why am I the only one who knows about the new guy?

"But even if we replace Walt with Eric, we're still getting too busy to be a three-plumber shop. So me and Gwen were talking, and what we want is for you to get off your ass and test up for your Journeyman's certificate. If you can do that, we'll add a truck and send you out doing some of the basic jobs—tear-outs, leaky faucets, the same shit you've been doing for Walt the past year." Andrew looked over at his boss, trying to wrap his head around what seemed to be an offer of promotion. "Yeah, I know how much stuff you've been doing that Walt should have been doin'," Tim said with a grin. "I know he can't get that fat ass into tight places so well any more, and his knees make it tough to get under sinks...I know he thought you were doing the jobs well enough not to make fixing them after a pain in the ass for him. Which tells me you can be doing that shit on your own if you just pass the goddamn test. Get off your ass, study—Cliff and me will help you there if you need it—take the test, and pass it. We buy a new truck, I get that one and you get the oldest, most-raggedy ass one. Deal?" 

Andrew looked down at the hand being offered to him and could not understand how he could survive so many shocks in one morning without passing out or throwing up. He took the outstretched hand and shook it. "Deal." 

***

Gwen waited until lunch to call Cricket, anxious to see how she was faring but not wanting to seem too anxious. 

"Kristen LaPointe."

"Hi Cricket, it's Gwen. How are you?"

"Oh-hi. I'm fine, how are you?" 

She sensed her call was not unwelcome, but the voice on the other end was tinged with worry. To be expected, the Lady sniffed. Leave her alone—none of your business. "Everything going okay?" 

"Everything's fine—can I call you back in a minute?" 

"Of course—if now is a bad time, you can call me whenever you want. I won't bother you again until I hear from you." 

"You're not bothering me at all, it's good to hear a friendly voice, it's just—I'll call you in a little bit, okay?" 

Told you, the Lady crowed. You're being a pesky little busybody. She doesn't want or need your help. 

The Lady's pronouncement was cut short by the phone's ring.

"Hi Gwen," Cricket began. "Sorry, I just wanted to go someplace more private. Probably best for everyone not to know my business."

"That's alright! So how is everything going?" 

"Well..." she began, deciding whether to continue. 

"Come on Cricket, out with it." 

"Daniel left some papers while he was here getting his things. He got a lawyer, Gwen! I thought we were just going to handle this between ourselves! I can't understand why he got one—we haven't got anything worth fighting over, and I figured whatever we do have we would split equally. I can't afford a lawyer! What am I going to do?" 

"Cricket, let me make a call. Don't do anything until you hear back from me, understand?"

"But I—"

"I will call you back as soon as I can. In the meantime, don't do anything. Alright?" 

"But—"

"I'll call you back soon—I promise."

Gwen began dialing as soon as she hung up. The line picked up on the first ring. "Curran, Stein and Associates, may I direct your call?"

"Norman Curran, please."

"Mr. Curran is not available at the moment. May I ask who's calling and I can give him a message?"

"This is Gwen Nelson."

"Oh—hello, Mrs. Nelson. I'll see if your father can be interrupted. Please hold for a moment."

The line was picked up less than a minute later. "Gwen! Nice to hear from you!" Gwen smiled at the sound of her father's voice. He had always been the more temperate counter to her mother's puritanical, autocratic ways, even if Irene Curran had always been the undisputed ruler of the family castle. And although he had always been formal with his only daughter, she was beginning to understand that it was likely because he had never known how to be any other way. Father and daughter exchanged pleasantries before Gwen got down to business.

"Listen Dad, I need a favor. I have a friend whose husband is filing for divorce. They're just starting out and don't have a lot of money, so it seems a little fishy to me that her husband got a lawyer. Think the firm can help her out?"

"Well, if she doesn't have a lot of money, she probably can't afford us. I can suggest a couple of new guys in town that work at fairly reasonable rates—" 

"No, I want Joe on this. Can you have him take this one, please?"

"That's a pretty big request, Gwen. You know Joe tends to work the bigger fish for us. He's pretty busy with—"

"Too busy even after all the work Nelson Plumbing has done over the years for your firm as well as your personal residence at greatly discounted rates, not to mention finding key evidence in the waste pipe of one of your client's homes, exonerating him of all charges...please, Daddy? For me?" 

"Alright, alright," Norman Curran grumbled. "I'll ask Joe to give her a call and see what the situation is...sliding scale, will that be satisfactory, councilor?" 

Gwen smiled. She knew the code phrase 'sliding scale' more often than not turned into pro bono. "Very satisfactory. Thank you daddy. You're wonderful. You'll have him call her today?"

"Yes, yes, today. You would have made a great lawyer, Gwen."

"I don't think that was ever in mother's plan. Besides, your partners are not particularly fond of uppity women, especially uppity woman lawyers."

"That's not true! Need I remind you that Sylvia is a full partner?" 

"Only because you saw the coming equal opportunity protests better than your partners did." 

He laughed, knowing he had lost this round. "See you at Sunday dinner next week?"

"You will. Thanks again, Daddy." 

Her father hung up the phone and smiled. The last time she had called him 'Daddy' was when she was seventeen and had wanted his permission to work at the stables for a year before going to college. It had made him go against his better judgement (and her mother's strident protests) then, and had made him give away valuable company billing hours today. Damn, she was good. 

But he knew she was also correct. The firm would not have welcomed a woman into the partnership, even a great-granddaughter of one of the founders. No, Gwen would have been better suited marrying one of the promising young lawyers her father had in mind for her and producing the grandsons that might eventually join the firm. Still, he couldn't complain about her eventual choice for a husband. Tim was a good man, and his father was thankful for his daughter's happiness. 

Gwen was dialing even as she heard the line disconnect. "Kristen LaPointe."

"Cricket, it's Gwen. You will be receiving a call from a lawyer by the name of Joe Gambini this afternoon. Joe's with Curran, Stein, and Associates, and does family law for them. Quite well. He's going to represent you." 

"Gwen, that's very nice of you, but I can't afford a lawyer, especially from Curran, Stein, and Associates!" 

"Oh, you know the firm?" 

"I know they're very good, and they're very expensive. The bank has had some dealing with them, and I looked them up this morning after you mentioned when we were riding that your father and brother were partners there ..."

"Well, don't worry about the cost. The firm will only charge you what Joe thinks you can afford." 

"Gwen, this is so nice of you, but really, I can't—"

"Of course you can. Don't try to go this alone. Let me help."

"You can't imagine how much you already have. Thank you so much." Gwen could hear the young woman sniffling. 

"Nothing to thank me for. You get back to work and let me know if you don't hear from him by the end of the day, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you. I owe you so much and I have no idea how I'll ever repay you."

"You don't owe me anything. It's what friends do." 

"I'm starting to understand that..."

"Call me later and let me know how it went with Joe."

***

Gwen was not surprised when Natalie called Friday morning. The weather had turned unseasonably cold and rainy the night before, and the forecast promised more of the same through Saturday afternoon. Not a day to willingly be out on horseback, Gwen forced herself to admit, although she hoped Natalie might come over anyways to—to what? both the Lady and Slut asked. 

"Not a good day to be up on the hill," Natalie pronounced after the two had exchanged good mornings.

"No, I guess not." 

"Wanna meet me at the mall and go clothes shopping?"

"I don't know if I should, today is Walt's last day, his retirement dinner is tomorrow night, and Eric is starting on Monday..."

"I understand. Well, we can try for next week, then..."

Gwen overrode the Lady's objections. "No! I really should get out for a bit. I'll meet you in the center court in about a half hour?"

"See you down there..."

Natalie, her bright floral sundress completely inappropriate for the weather outside, was there waiting when Gwen arrived. 

"So, where to?" The tiny brunette asked after hugs were exchanged. 

"Upstairs. Bon Jolie. I could use a couple of tops, and maybe a bra. You need anything?" 

"Hadn't really thought about it," Gwen confessed. "This weather makes me wonder if I need another sweater or two."

"See those guys over there?" Natalie murmured as the two women approached the escalator. Gwen saw who she meant—two younger men looked about, apparently not focused on anything or anyone.

"Yes?"

"I'll bet you five bucks they get on the escalator after we do."

"Natalie, I don't gamble, and I'm sure you're—"

"Five bucks says they follow us."

Gwen rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, alright, but I don't get why they would." 

The young men looked at anything but the two women as they passed and stepped on to the first tread. "Don't look back," Natalie cautioned through her smile, staring ahead as they rose above the ground floor. The pair reached the top and walked ahead several paces before the busty blonde stopped and turned. Gwen looked back and saw the young men just getting off, again intent on not looking at the two women in front of them. 

"You can pay me later," Natalie said, smiling knowingly at one of the young men as he risked a glance. 

"How did you know?" Her sister asked quietly to the back of the woman already walking away from her. 

"Guys will sometimes hang around stairs hoping to get a look up a woman's dress." 

Gwen glanced back and saw the two voyeurs already on their way back down. "Really? They were trying to look up your dress? You don't think they saw anything, do you?" 

"Probably. Hard to say. They looked like they were far enough behind and below us to get a pretty good look."

"At least you're wearing underwear, right?"

"Technically, yes." 

Natalie breezed into the upscale clothing store and made a quick pass through an area stuffed with shirts and tops, selecting several before heading on to the lingerie section. She spent some time selecting several bras, then a camisole, and she was off to the dressing rooms. 

Gwen hung back as Natalie disappeared down the short hallway lined with tiny curtained booths and took a seat, not wanting to appear as though she were trying to intrude on anyone's privacy. Natalie summoned her a few moments later.

"Gwen! What do you think?" She peeked into the hallway, expecting to poke her head in the booth and give her opinion on one of the tops her sister had selected. Instead, she was brought up short by the sight of a naked Natalie standing outside her cubicle. Well, not quite naked, Gwen corrected herself. One of the bras her sister-in-law had brought in to try on seemed to be fighting a losing battle against the mounds of flesh it was meant to restrain, and her earlier assertion that she was technically wearing underwear was clearer now that a micro thong could be seen peeking out from between her legs. "Too small, huh?" She did a full turn for effect, the string of the thong hidden between the bumcheeks it ran through to make the woman appear naked from the waist down. Wonder if the young men on the escalator got the same idea, the Slut mused. 

Gwen could not decide whether she meant the bra or the panties and just nodded in agreement, then nervously looking over her shoulder for anyone who might blunder into the show. Natalie reached behind her back and unhooked the straining garment, seemingly oblivious to the fact she now stood in a corridor where others might see her, breasts spilling out from their imprisonment. "Whew, better," she said, casually massaging them. "I hate it when they get strapped down like that for too long. Makes my cleavage look better in the right dress, but I swear it cuts off the circulation!" 

Natalie tried on each garment in turn, taking her time while Gwen wished she would hurry and finish before some unsuspecting shopper got an eyeful. She finished with the camisole. "What do you think about this?" 

The shimmering blue garment came down to just below her waist, not reaching far enough to conceal the thong below. The fabric seemed to obscenely drape over her sister's breasts, even her areolae clearly outlined. 

"It's nice, but I think it's too sheer to wear out, even if you had a bra on." 

"Well, duh," Natalie laughed. "It's not meant for wearing out. This and a pair of sexy undies is meant to send a message to Adam that I'm in need of a man." 

Gwen blushed. Was it possible to have sexier underwear than what she already wore? "Oh, well, in that case, I'm sure it will work fine for that."

Natalie smiled and changed back into her sundress, Gwen relieved that she had put her bra back on first. "Okay, I think I know what I want. Let's see about some things for you."

"Oh, I'm fine," Gwen demurred. "I don't need anything." 

Her sister smiled. "Well then, there's something I need from you. I'll forget the five bucks you owe me if you give me the bra and panties you're wearin'."

Gwen started to remind her that as she didn't gamble, she didn't owe her anything, but the Slut was first in with the reminder that in this case she had, and she did. The Lady was all for the debt being settled with a five dollar bill, but the Slut had other ideas.

"How do you know I'm wearing any?"

Natalie laughed. "The bra's kinda obvious, even under that shirt. As for the panties, I'm going to guess Gwen Nelson has not yet progressed to the point where she would willingly leave her house without underwear."

I have before, just not today, Gwen thought. The Slut recommended prompt payment. "Now? Here?"

"Yup. Yup." Natalie looked at her expectantly. 

"What do you want them for?"

"I've got a fetish for undies." 

Gwen dubiously eyed her sister and stepped into the vacant changing stall. It wasn't like she hadn't gone out without underwear before...and her slacks were certainly less revealing than the skirt she had worn shopping a couple of towns over. The curtain was pulled shut and Gwen began undressing. She was down to the requested bra and panties when the curtain again slid open, the sound startling her. 

"How you doin' in here?"

"Fine, thank you for asking! Can you close that, please?"

"C'mon, get 'em off. Sooner you do, sooner you can get dressed and the curtain won't matter."

Gwen's eyes never left Natalie's as she worked the clasp to expose her breasts before shucking the full-back panties down her legs. Her sister smiled and stooped to take the discarded underwear and stuff them in her purse. "I like a woman who pays her debts. C'mon, get dressed and we'll go pay for my stuff and get lunch." 

The women approached the escalator, both looking over the edge of the mezzanine for the young men who no longer appeared to be at the bottom. "What a shame," Natalie said quietly, "I was going to give them your panties." 

Gwen nervously looked around for anyone who might have overheard. "You wouldn't dare!" she hissed in a loud whisper.

"Never can tell," her sister replied. "They're mine now, I can do whatever I want with them. Wanna bet where they'll end up?" 

"No more bets," Gwen replied nervously. "Would you like to come up to the house for lunch?" 

"No, thanks, probably won't have enough time to get up and back for work. How about Andy's in the Food Court?" 

The Lady waffled between prodding her to get out of the public spotlight as soon as possible before her lack of underwear was discovered and dreading what might happen if Gwen and Natalie did make it the privacy of her home. Gwen reluctantly agreed that lunch at the mall was the more sensible plan. 

"You should unbutton that a little more," Natalie said, pointing to her sister's blouse after they had slid into a booth near the back of the restaurant. "Might get us better service from our waiter. Too bad you don't owe me anything at the moment. "

"Yes, too bad," Gwen replied condescendingly, and launched into a complete recounting of her weekend with Cricket as a means of changing the subject. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 11



"Gwen Nelson, you really are changing," her sister said with true admiration as she wrapped up the story. "I never you knew you had it in you to reach out to a stranger like that."

"I don't know why everybody keeps saying that," Gwen sniffed. "I've always been helpful to others." Natalie smiled but said nothing. "But, umm, I meant to tell you, Cricket accidentally let it slip to Alison about my photos. Now I think she wants to see them, and I think she also wants to know why we were really at Barry's together."

"So, let her see them. Your album turned out beautifully."

"But I'm her mother!" 

"You're the woman she's most likely to become in a few years. Why not give her a sneak peek if she wants it and give her some reassurance she ages really well?" 

"And what if she asks why we were there together?" 

Tell her. What Liz and I do together is not something I want to be common knowledge, but I think Alison's old enough to understand." 

"What if she wants to see your pictures, too?"

"My album, or the ones I just posed for?"

"Either! Both!" 

"She is certainly most welcome to look at my album, and probably the ones with Liz, too, although I want to see them first before I make that decision, which from what I understand will be able to do soon. Ali's a big girl, and I'm sure she's done some wild and crazy things, too. Very sure," Natalie added knowingly. 

Their meals were served and eaten as the two women spoke in hushed tones about Cricket, Alison, and the hoped for unveiling of the latest photos. The waiter, a pleasant young man who Natalie had been charming the entire meal, promptly brought their check. 

Gwen attempted to pay, but her sister stopped her. "I've got it—you can owe me," she said with a grin and plunked down some bills. 

"I can only imagine how you'll want me to pay you back," Gwen grumbled, but acquiesced and led the way out of the mall and into the parking lot.

"Really Natalie. Why do you want my underwear? What are you going to do with it?" 

"Not sure about the bra yet. I don't have your panties any more." 

Gwen stopped in her tracks, suddenly not in such a hurry to get out of the rain. "What do you mean?" 

Natalie giggled. "I left them on the table in the restaurant. I thought our waiter was such a nice young man, and he deserved a special tip." 

"You can't be serious!" Gwen shrieked. "He'll know I left them!" 

"He'll know one of us left them," Natalie replied with mock seriousness. "Let him decide who. He'll probably think they're mine anyways, since I was the one who was gushing over him and calling him 'sweetie'. Little does he know you're the real bad girl, you pantiles hussy you! Of course, if you had been wearing something a little more brief than those bloomers, he'd probably figure it out that I wouldn't be able to fit in to your undies..." The two women stared at each other for a moment, one set of eyes anxious, one filled with laughter. "You could always go back and ask him for them..." Natalie taunted. 

"Well, I can never go back there again," Gwen grumbled as they reached her car. "Honestly, why would a guy even want some woman's panties?" 

Natalie hugged her. "You have so much to catching up to do. This is going to be fun." 

The women said their goodbyes in the parking lot, promising to call each other at some point during the week before their Friday ride. Gwen's mind wandered as she drove back to the house, disappointed Natalie had not been able to come back with her, wondering how the waiter had reacted to the extra "tip" he had received, whether he would be able to figure out who the owner of the underwear was and whether trouble would come from it. She also briefly wondered if he might use them for his own pleasure. Natalie seemed to imply that he would greatly appreciate this gift. How would a man even make use of a pair of panties for their own pleasure? 

Gwen was reluctant to admit that habit and circumstances had set her sexual alarm clock to go off that afternoon, and a series of phone calls and problems to be solved upon her arrival kept her in the office until almost 5. She knew the trucks would probably not be back until at least much later; Tim was taking all the crews out for "a beer or two" to celebrate Walt's last day. No one to be presentable for, so no need to replace the underwear that was quite possibly now in some young man's pocket. 

The text announcing that the last truck had left the jobsite was Gwen's cue to shut down and head over to the house. Blouse and slacks were discarded after she had eaten, and she wandered the house performing small chores, her mind occupied by a myriad of questions and details while her sexual need simmered. 

She stopped in the bedroom after pulling dirty clothes from the hampers, deciding that she had resisted the urge long enough. Gwen happily pulled her toys from the nightstand and flopped back on the bed, intent on making herself feel good right now while being available for her husband should he have need of her body when he returned. 

She laid back and let her mind and fingers wander, sexual musings mixing with more practical matters. Did Martelli's still have the back room reserved for Walt's retirement dinner tomorrow night? What would Walt think if he saw me like this? How was Cricket making out on her trip South? Does she do this, too? What to tell Alison if she asks again, and what to show her? The vet will be up to see the horses next Tuesday...I wonder where my panties are right now?

Enough about your underwear, the Lady fumed. Thanks to Natalie, some pervert now has them for God-knows-what purpose. The Slut was only too happy to suggest some possibilities. Maybe it feels good against their cocks if they put them on.

Gwen giggled. The waiter had not been a particularly large man, but the thought of him fitting into her underwear seemed very unlikely. Okay, the Slut conceded, but maybe he use them for a rag for after he shoots, or—or—maybe he wraps them around his cock and strokes himself with it! 

I guess that's possible, Gwen agreed, and imagined the waiter standing there, naked from the waist down, his panty-wrapped erection poking through the tails of the buttoned white shirt he still wore, a black bow tie closing the collar. The young man's fist was wrapped around his hard-on, polishing his length with the white cotton as he savored the feel of the fabric. Her own fingers found their way between her legs and began to stroke and tease as she envisioned her underwear being used to contain his ejaculation.

The rabbit was retrieved and made to purr. Gwen guided it down, towards her opening then beyond, on to the smooth skin separating her holes. Farther still it went, nestling between the split of her cheeks until the press of her body against the sheets made it impossible to go further. It might feel good back there, she mused, even in her current state of arousal still preferring to identify her puckered opening by location rather than name, and rolled on to her stomach in the hopes of better access. 

Gwen eventually got to her knees while her shoulders stayed pressed against the mattress and her head buried in the pillow, the hand holding the rabbit brought between spread thighs to nestle into her open cheeks. The buzz of the vibrator against her starfish brought back pleasurable feelings she had long ago forbidden herself to remember, so much so she briefly wondered what it might be like to push the rounded head in just a little way...Gwen was not ready for that perversion, however, and distracted herself with a dildo firmly embedded in a more traditional spot while the index finger of her free hand tormented her clitoris. The ensuing orgasm toppled the balancing act and she fell to her side as waves of pleasure roared through her. Gwen managed to keep the rabbit in place against her asshole as she shuddered through her climax, the strength of her convulsions forcing the angrily buzzing head to push open the puckered ring a fraction of an inch. 

She lay there for some time afterwards, too spent to move, idly letting ideas, concerns and to-dos chase about her brain, until she heard the sounds of the first truck. She did not go out to meet them, and Tim found her naked and asleep when he finally made it to the bedroom.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 12



Sorry for the delay between chapters—I tend to be away from my keyboard more during the summer months, and I've been splitting my reduced writing time between this chapter and the start of a story line a long-time reader asked me to make an attempt at.

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist, but they are not for everyone. If you disagree and are offended by the thought of multiple sexual partners, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.

*****

Despite Gwen's concerns, Walt's retirement dinner went off without a hitch and a nice evening was had by all the gathered employees and significant others. Most of those in attendance saw the same conservatively dressed Mrs. Nelson they knew and respected, although Andrew spent the evening discretely remembering her another way. It was her demeanor that the gathered guests had decided was markedly different. Where before Gwen Nelson had always been distant and coldly formal, now she seemed almost...friendly. 

She was up well before Tim the next morning, climbing the hillock to the pool while the sun was still low behind the trees. . Her nipples hardened to tight little eraser points in the chill of the fall dawn, but Gwen knew the water still held much of the warmth of the summer sun. Her nude body knifed through the pool's calm surface with barely a splash. Time to open up the hot tub, she mused as she lazily tread water. 

Gwen hurried from the water to retrieve her terrycloth robe, nipples still in their alert state as much from her brazen early-morning daring as the sudden cold. She was thankful she did not have to suffer a wet suit that would turn cold and clammy before reaching the house. Skinnydipping is just so much more logical and efficient! Tim found her sipping coffee at the kitchen table when he stumbled from the bedroom an hour later. 

"G'morning," he mumbled, kissing the top of her head as he shuffled past on his way to the coffee. She appreciated his own choice of attire this morning—he had not bothered with anything more than a t-shirt, and his muscled backside flexed as he walked past. Gwen was only too happy to admire his cute bottom as well as what was drawn up between his legs when he turned back to the table with coffee cup in hand. I never imagined that thing could have so many shapes and sizes, she mused as she noted how both the shaft and the pouch below it seemed to be trying to stay tucked close to the warmth of his body. 

Tim pulled out the chair next to her, plopped down and took a sip of the steaming liquid. "Plans today?" 

"The usual," Gwen replied. "Chores, groceries..." 

"Supposed to be a beautiful day," he said, looking down into his mug. "How about we take the boat out for a bit? Won't be long before it gets too cold..." 

"Did you plan on fishing, or...going somewhere? And before you say it, I absolutely will not anywhere near that place you and Charlie went last weekend. I would never be able to look Margaret Murphy—or Al—in the face again if they saw us there." 

"Going there was Charlie's idea," Tim assured her. "And no, uh, not there. Looked like too much commotion, anyways. I was thinking someplace quieter where we can just hang out and soak up some sun, maybe that place we went last time?" 

Gwen smiled at her husband's choice of sunbathing over fishing. "We'll see. As long as there aren't too many people." 

Tim smiled hopefully and stood to get ready. He seems a bit more filled out down there, she noted. The coffee must have warmed him up. 

The landing was busy when they arrived, the early morning fishermen coming back fighting against the tide of pleasure boaters flowing out to take advantage of the weather. Tim and Gwen were able to put in without incident, and the boat's nose was soon pointed up the lake, the craft moving at something a little above a leisurely pace. 

Gwen had discretely removed her shorts soon after they had cast off and the t-shirt followed as Tim guided them into open water, the mid-morning sun warming her despite the breeze. He eyed her bikini-clad body appreciatively, remembering the jeans and sweatshirt she had worn her first time out here this summer. 

"It doesn't look like anyone's in there," Gwen called out as they cruised past the little cove they had swam in that day. 

Tim looked to where she was pointing and turned his attention back to the bow. "Let's keep going on up to the next inlet. It's sunnier, and there's more of a beach. If it's crowded, we'll come back here." 

Five minutes later, they rounded the forested point of land sheltering their destination. As before, two boats were at anchor, the owners already on opposite ends of the strip of sand. Gwen made note of the lack of visible swimwear and decided that politeness would require she be the same way if she chose to join them. The Lady snorted at the idea of public nudity requiring proper manners. 

"Too crowded?" Tim asked as he guided them into an open patch of chest-deep water near the beach.

"I guess not. I assume you're going to sit on the beach?"

"Sure, why not? It'll be nice to put our toes in the sand for a while." The watertight bag was produced and filled, Tim's t-shirt, shorts and shoes last in as he unceremoniously shed them. "You coming?" 

Gwen felt the need to make it appear she was more reluctant than was actually the case. "I don't know...it seems so, well...wrong...to just sit around with naked people."

Tim smiled and began to seal the bag. "I wouldn't call it wrong. Maybe we just don't have a lot of experience. I'm willing to try and get used to it. " 

"Wait." 

Gwen took a deep breath and looked around, then hurriedly removed her top and bottom and handed them to her husband. She didn't wait for him, instead hurrying down the ladder into the clear water, feet on the sandy bottom, only her head and shoulders above the surface. 

Tim hopped over the side and led the way towards the beach, Gwen very aware of her breasts, then her waist, breaking the surface as the lake bottom rose to the water's edge. She stared straight ahead as they made their way up the sand between the couples flanking them, not daring to look for signs of disapproval or condemnation. Why would there be any? the Slut laughed. They're as naked as you are.

Tim stopped when they were directly between the two pairs of nude bodies, but Gwen continued on past him, walking a bit further up, deciding she might be more comfortable if she were slightly above and behind the others. He followed to where she now stood, looking back out at the small anchorage, and handed her a towel from the bag. She sat with legs drawn up to her chest while Tim flopped down beside her and lay back to dry in the sun, seemingly oblivious to the others not more than 20 feet on either side of them. Gwen took the time to surreptitiously check out her fellow beachgoers. 

To her left was a couple perhaps a few years older and a few pounds heavier than she and Tim. The woman was sitting in much the same position as Gwen, probably to support her arms holding up the paperback she was reading rather than out of any sense of modesty. Her husband lay beside her on his stomach, his bottom and legs a softened shade of the darkened tan of his torso. 

To her right was a younger couple, perhaps in their late twenties, she guessed. Gwen pretended to stare at the boats parked in front of her as they rose to rearrange their towels, glancing sideways from behind her sunglasses once she felt confident she was not under observation herself. The young blonde's midsection was noticeably swollen, a definite baby bump of the third-trimester variety. Gwen was surprised a woman in her condition would allow herself to be seen like that, but also felt a certain admiration for the woman's confidence and bravery. Her swelling midsection made her beautiful in a way that was hard to define. Gwen's own pregnancies had made her particularly ugly and misshapen, something that made her even more protective of her modesty around Tim during those times, not that he would have even wanted a glimpse. The man accompanying the young woman—her husband, Gwen guessed based on the glint of gold on his finger-was average in height, sporting a bit of a paunch, perhaps sympathy weight gain, she thought. The Lady scoffed at her lack of shame or embarrassment as she looked at what was tucked beneath his rounded midsection —a flaccid penis, it's shaft more slender and the pink head more bulbous than Tim's, nestled in a patch of brown hair. Checking out the variety of what lay between men's legs amused the Slut, and she wondered what the older man to her right might have pressed against the towel he lay on. Gwen eased her legs forward a bit, daring to expose the tops of her breasts to the sun. 

The Slut had to wait another fifteen minutes before the older man obliged her, lifting his head from the towel and glancing up at the newcomers with a friendly smile before turning over and flopping back onto the sand, a t-shirt over his eyes. The man's length seemed to be stuck at an right angle to the skin of his lower abdomen, a situation he remedied by reaching down and stroking it a couple of times before scratching the testicles hanging between his thighs. His hand left his crotch and found its way to his wife's back, casually stroking and scratching her from shoulder blade to where her cheeks were pressed against the towel she sat on. The woman did not look away from her book, but she did leave one hand to support her reading while the other returned her husband's affectionate caresses by petting his chest and stomach. Gwen watched breathlessly as the hand worked its way further down the hairy midsection. 

Gwen quickly glanced down at Tim, both out of an obligation to not intrude on the private moment to her left while also wondering if her husband was seeing what she was seeing. He appeared to be napping and Gwen could not resist her voyeuristic urge, privacy be damned. She returned to a sideways stare through her sunglasses. 

The woman's attention was still focused on her book, but her fingers were now gliding up and down the length lying on the man's stomach, coaxing it into hardness. From her vantage point Gwen could see it inflating like a balloon underneath her absentminded stroking, the head straining to rise up against the red fingernails scratching it. The fingers went further, across the loose sac and down between his thighs, as if looking for something that had fallen between the couch cushions. His legs spread further and a tilt of his hips upwards allowed her better access and the hand tarried for a bit before returning to view and wrapping around the now hard staff. She continued to focus on her reading even as she lifted the length up and slid it back and forth through her loosely-clenched fist. If he was at all offended by his wife's lewd act or her apparent lack of attention to it, he certainly wasn't showing it.

Gwen was both shocked and fascinated by the perverted display. Such a private and personal act to perform in front of others, and yet both husband and wife seemed to be treating it as nothing more exotic than a distracted good-morning kiss. 

The Lady loudly reminded her that she was not alone on the beach. Gwen shifted her gaze back to the younger couple, embarrassed by the realization she had been openly staring. They were both sitting on their towels, smiling and watching the show the other couple was putting on, not feeling the need to hide their focus on the action. Again the Lady urged her to cover up and go back to the boat, but again her need to watch won out. The Slut wanted to see if they would go further and fuck right there on the sand. 

The woman did not seem to be in a hurry to move on to that act, sometimes removing her hand long enough to turn a page before returning to her languid petting and pulling. It was some time before her tempo began to change, that her grip became firmer and her pace more urgent. She continued to read while her husband's hips began that twitching Gwen had come to know as a sure sign of her own husband's impending orgasms. The Slut was anxious to observe another man's orgasm for the first time, to see a fountain splatter his chest, perhaps even further up, given the direction she had aimed him. The Slut giggled evilly. I wonder how he'll like getting a faceful? Gwen wondered if that kind of distance was even possible to achieve.

The woman's attention shifted from her book to the body next to her as he stiffened. Her fist gripped just below the head of the cudgel and held firm as he strained against it. There were no pearly jets arcing up and away, just the cream that bubbled from the tip and oozed down to coat the fingers beneath, reminding Gwen of white lava spilling from a pink-tipped volcano.

The eruption ceased and the woman affectionately shook the penis she held then wiped her hand on his chest and returned to her reading. He removed the t-shirt from his eyes, chuckled, and rolled to his side to kiss his benefactor's cheek before rising for a walk down to the water. 

Gwen sat and watched his buttocks roll as he walked—not a bad looking bum, she had to admit—while making sense of the depraved scene she had just witnessed. It might have been depraved, the Slut chimed in, but it made you wet. She reluctantly had to admit that the scene had been arousing, and that Tim would have some business to take care of once they got home. Maybe sooner, if that next cove over was still empty on their way back...

A giggle to her right interrupted her thoughts of lewd possibilities and she reflexively turned in time to see the pregnant woman playfully punch her husband in the arm. Gwen wondered if her own obvious interest might have been the cause for the laughter. Tim stirred and sat up, and she quickly directed her gaze out to the boats and the man unashamedly cleaning off the remains of his orgasm.

Tim leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Everything alright?" he asked, following his wife's line of sight across the water. 

"Everything's fine." The aroused woman decided that she really shouldn't be spending any more time looking at naked people and lay back, eyes closed tightly against the sun and the thought of how incredibly exposed she was in this pose, and that the others on the beach might be looking at her even now. She let the sun warm her, doing her best to ignore a different kind of heat spreading from between her legs. 

"Nice boat." 

Gwen's eyes opened in panic as she resisted the urge to sit up and cover herself from the voice coming from somewhere down towards the water. "Thanks," Tim replied genially. "That's a hell of a cabin cruiser you've got." 

The laugh that responded made it clear the man behind it was coming closer. "Yeah, thanks. Little more than we need, but it came with the house, and it's big enough to stay on overnight out here, so we kept it." The Lady counseled feigning sleep, unconsciousness, death, anything to avoid acknowledging the man who was surely now just feet away, but politeness and curiosity made her sit up, bringing her knees back up to her chest to hug them as she did so. 

The older man was now squatting at the end of their towels, his body still glistening with beads of water from his swim. "Bob," he said, extending his hand first to Tim, then Gwen. "That's my wife Yvette." At the mention of her name, the woman looked up from her reading, smiled and waved, then returned her attention to her book. 

"I'm Tim, and this is my wife, Gwen." No names, the Lady screamed. No names!

"Nice to meet you both. Welcome to our little hideaway. Well, not ours, really- our house is on the other side of the lake, but our neighbors aren't the clothing optional types, so we come here to work on our tans. Nice place to lay out and relax. Everybody seems to just know this beach has an adults-only vibe to it, but the partiers stay further down the lake, so it's pretty quiet." 

The talk turned to boats and fishing, Gwen only half-listening, unable to come to terms with the idea that she and her naked husband were talking with an equally naked man as though it were the most normal thing in the world. Not to mention the fact that the docile thing hanging between the man's legs had been on display in its full masculine glory just a short time ago...

Her mind wandered from the discussion of marine engine horsepower and back to the realization that she was naked just a few feet from a strange man. His occasionally focused on her, a quick smile accompanied by a look in her eyes before a run up and down what body he could see behind her legs. Either he's checking me out, Gwen reasoned, or more likely he's just trying to be polite and include me in on the conversation, He can't be checking me out—there's nothing left to see. I'm as naked as the day I was born. 

Not that Gwen had been ignoring the body squatting in front of her. He was not model material, but he was real, and this was the closest she had ever been to a naked man other than Tim. There were a few extra pounds, but there was muscle too, and hairy legs and arms, and...that thing dangling between his slightly-spread thighs. Docile was not the proper description for it, perhaps at rest would be more fitting...the hair surrounding it had been clipped very short. His tanned shaft (I didn't know that could tan, too! Gwen thought), even though recently drained, still maintained an impressive length and girth as it lay draped over his loose sac, the skin of the pouch several shades darker, the outline of his testicles nestled inside plainly visible. She briefly wondered what it might be like to reach out and cup them—she was almost close enough to do so—to feel if they were as heavy as they looked. 

Bob shifted slightly, opening his legs even more to her, as if welcoming her to examine it more closely. Gwen quickly focused on the boats in front of her, then to movement to her right. 

The young man had gotten to his feet, the shaft of penis beginning to swell in proportion to the helmet that capped it , and helped his pregnant wife up. Together they walked hand in hand further up the beach, back behind the bank to where those people had gone last time to...The woman shyly smiled at Gwen and then averted her eyes as she passed, as if acknowledging what the ultimate goal of their excursion was. 

She was surprised that the couple would be doing anything like that in her condition, much less here. Tim had been shut off from any sort of sexual contact the moment her own pregnancies had been confirmed, and his Saturday night conjugal rights had not resumed until two months after she had given birth. Gwen had convinced herself back then that lovemaking would be difficult with her stomach in the way, and even if it was possible, a man of top of her poking his thing so close to where their child was growing couldn't be healthy for the baby. Besides, Tim would have had to be desperate indeed to want to touch her. You've found a lot of ways to fuck besides missionary since then, the Slut reminded her, and I think Tim would have found a way if you had let him. 

"So what do you do for work, Tim?" 

The conversation again had Gwen's complete attention as the Lady desperately looked for a way to stop this egregious breach of confidential information. Too late. 

"We own a plumbing business over in Albany. You?" 

"Financial analyst. I work out of my house, mostly. You do any work out this far?" The Lady urged Gwen to step in and tell him no, but Tim was quicker.

"We try not to turn down any jobs," Tim said with a smile. "Why?" 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 12



"We want to completely re-do the master bathroom. You think you might be able to give me a quote?"

"Be happy to. Give me a call, we can set up a time and place." 

The naked man in front of them grinned. "Great! Got a business card?"

Tim slapped his bare thighs. "Sorry, fresh out. I can give you a phone number to call, though."

Bob turned back to where his wife was still reading. "Honey, can you bring me my phone?"

Yvette dug into a nearby bag, retrieved the requested object, and rose to bring it to where Bob still crouched. Her body was rounded as well, not fat, but curvy, full breasts sagging slightly, and she sported a neatly trimmed brunette bush between her legs. 

"Tim here is a plumber," Bob told the woman now standing over the others. "We should have him come over and give us a quote on the bathroom." 

"Absolutely! The sooner the better. I'm Yvette," she said, extending her hand first to Tim, then Gwen. "Sorry if my husband is being a nuisance. He can't imagine anybody out here wouldn't want to talk boats." 

Gwen took the proffered hand, remembering where it had been just a little while ago. "Gwen. And this is Tim. I think it's one of his favorite subjects, as well." 

Yvette smiled. "Well, it's nice to see you folks out here—I always worry the party up at Hellsapoppin Point is going to spill over down here. It's fun to go up there sometimes, but I like the quiet down here, too. Anyways, honey we really should get going. We have a lot to do at home yet, and I have something I'd really like your help with." The woman winked and smiled at Gwen.

Bob stood, his manhood now at eye level as he began typing Tim's cellphone number into his own, the Lady only slightly mollified that it was not the main business number,. "Nice to meet you both. I'll give you a call sometime next week. Hope to see you out here again—Tim, I'll give you a tour of the boat the next time if you want."

"That'd be great." 

The couple collected their things and loaded them into the little raft they had brought to shore, then began the trip out, not bothering to dress. 

"Seems like a nice guy," Tim said as they watched the couple climb the ladder on to the aft deck of their boat. "I think he found you real interesting." 

Gwen's eyes found her husband's. "What do you mean by that?" 

"Nothing, nothing. Just looked like he was trying to sneak some peeks at you."

Gwen hugged her knees closer to her chest, the Lady horrified by the prospect of being ogled while the Slut purred with the correctness of her assumption. "Of me? What more could he possibly want to see? I'm naked! There's nothing more to see!" 

"Well, you're naked, but there's more...you were sitting the way you are right now, so he really couldn't get a good look at your chest, and the way you had your feet, he had a hard time seeing down here." Tim reached behind her ankles and gently stroked her lips. Gwen tucked her feet up even closer to her body in response, nearly trapping the finger petting her as she looked about nervously for onlookers. He chuckled. "He was probably hoping you'd give him a little look after the show he and Yvette gave everyone."

"You saw that?"

"Yeah," Tim admitted. "I was starting to doze off, but I looked up and saw that you were pretty interested in something. I'm guessing that from your level of interest and the fact we're still here that you weren't offended too bad?"

Gwen deflected the question. "I can't believe they did that, right here, in public, with people watching!"

"Well, it wasn't exactly Main Street downtown, but yeah, I guess it's not something you'd see every day, even on a nude beach. Maybe that's what meant about this spot having an 'adults'-only vibe' to it. It was a pretty ballsy, though, no pun intended. Hell, even the other couple took it up into the woods." 

"And I can't believe that, either!" Gwen hissed in an attempt to keep the shock in her voice quiet. "She's pregnant!"

Tim smiled. "Yeah, she is, isn't she? What they're doing right now is probably how she got that way, maybe even on some other time here. I bet pregnant women need it, too." He swallowed the 'I know their husbands do,' he had intended to add. Cruel and unnecessary, he decided. What's in the past is in the past. Gwen had done what she thought best for the babies. That fact hadn't cooled the desire he had for her that seemed to grow in proportion to her midsection.

"At least she's pretty, even like that," Gwen offered. "I was a blob." 

"All pregnant woman are really, really sexy in a way that non-pregnant women can't ever be," he countered. "I read somewhere it's something about it being a sign of fertility to us guys,. You were incredibly sexy back then, and you're incredibly sexy now." He placed a hand on her knee. "Want me to show you how sexy I think you are?" 

"Does that mean you're ready to leave?"

"In a while. Maybe after..." Tim nuzzled her neck.

"Here? Tim, they haven't left yet—" Gwen jerked her head out to where the big cabin cruiser still lay anchored, Bob and Yvette now below deck—"and they—" she nodded to the unattended backpacks to their right-"could come back at any minute!" 

As if on cue, the couple appeared from their left and passed by on the way to their belongings, the young man shooting them a quick 'you caught us' smile while the woman flashed her own guilty version. 

"Yup, sexy as all hell," Tim thought as he watched the young woman's breasts, belly and ass jiggle and bounce from the effort of walking across the sand. His masturbation fantasies had quite often had Gwen in much the same condition way back then. Gwen was lost in her own observations, noting the swing of the young man's tool, his penis looking to be in much the same condition as Bob's when his wife had finished with it. They quickly sat by their backpacks, the blonde doing her best to discretely retrieve a tissue from her bag and dab between her legs. 

Gwen rose and brushed nonexistent sand off her bottom. "Come on." 

Tim looked up doubtfully. "You want to leave?" 

"I'm going for a walk. I want to see what's so interesting back there. Would you like to come?" 

Her husband grinned and scrambled to his feet, grabbing the towels as he rose. "Lead on."

Gwen made for the cut in the low berm of sand where she had seen the others disappear into. The forest beyond was dappled in streaks of sunlight breaking through the canopy, giving the shady space beneath a sleepy feel. A patch of sand lay open behind the sandy hillock, hemmed in on two sides by lush greenery. The open spot seemed to have been frequently visited, the sand flattened by blankets and bodies and then disturbed with footprints. 

"Do you think this is where they were going to?" she asked, stepping into the center of the ring and turning to face Tim. 

"Probably," he agreed, moving towards her, wondering if she would allow them to use the little glade as well.

He stopped just short of his goal as Gwen dropped to her knees before him, hesitating long enough for him to stop his forward motion before bending a bit and taking his semi-erect member into her mouth. Tim growled with enthusiasm and shuffled forward a few inches to slide himself more completely between her waiting lips. 

Tim's length grew quickly and his wife's burgeoning oral expertise, along with the idea that somebody—mayb the couple on the beach-might find them in this compromising situation, had him close in a short time. 

Gwen sensed his advanced state as well and withdrew him from her mouth with one last slow drag of her lips up his shaft. Still on her knees, she turned herself away from him and dropped to all fours. She looked back over her shoulder, her upturned rear and the look on her face clear invitations. 

Tim grunted and accepted, pausing to take in the incredible sight below him before dropping to his knees behind his prize. He took a good look at the little starfish peeking out from between her spread cheeks as he lined himself up to fuck her in the way she had obviously intended. Wonder how that might feel? Don't get greedy, he grumbled to himself. You're already getting more than you ever thought possible. 

Her pussy was tight but well lubricated as he pushed and slid his cock home. Tim brought his right arm around the front of her thigh, both to trap her body up against his as well as bring a finger to play on her clit. The hand of his other arm firmly palmed her breast as he began to thrust while Gwen tried to ground herself both against the thing buried in her and the finger on her button. 

"Tim, are you close?" She whispered, afraid their voices might carry back to the beach.

"Oh yeah..."

"I want you to finish in me now."

"I can wait until after you have..."

"No, I want you to finish first. Please?"

The cock thrusting into her made the decision. His hands grabbed her roughly by the hips, pace and intensity quickening while Gwen's breasts swung wildly, and one final thrust was delivered so hard it nearly knocked the gasping woman off balance. Tim stiffened and emptied himself inside of her, jerking forward with each pulse, trying to go just a little deeper. 

The hands loosened their grip, and one crept back to resume it's teasing of her clitoris. Gwen pulled away and stood, turning back to the kneeling man with the confused look on his face. 

"Don't you want me to take care of you?" he asked, looking up.

"Not right now. Definitely later," she replied with a soft smile and a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm going to swim back to the boat. Can you bring the bag when you come back?" She didn't wait for an answer, walking past her surprised husband and out to the beach. Tim scrambled to his feet and followed as quickly as he could. 

The young couple had no intentions of pretending disinterest and turned their heads to watch the older woman's re-emergence from the woods, her knees still caked with sand and the red splotch over her breast evidence as to what she had just done. Her husband's appearance a few seconds later, his still-sizeable erection bouncing and swaying as he hurried along after her, only helped confirm what they knew as soon as they had left the beach in the first place. 

Gwen smiled at the pregnant woman and her husband as she passed, shyly turning her head when the young couple grinned in response. Had she been watching, Gwen would have seen that her husband received a thumps-up from the young man as well. Tim gave him a shrug and an embarrassed smile. 

He watched her climbed their boat's ladder as hurried into the water. Why did she stop and leave so quickly? Was she upset? Did she suddenly get cold feet, or worse yet, a sudden burst of morality? Had they—had he-gone too far?

She didn't seem upset as he climbed on to the stern, making o effort to cover herself. "Thanks honey," she said casually as the bag was opened and towels withdrawn. Gwen left the bikini off, settling for just her t-shirt before sitting down in the passenger's seat. Tim brought the boat to life and guided it out of the inlet past the cabin cruiser, still sitting there despite Bob and Yvette's stated intentions of leaving. 

Tim soon had the craft moving along at a rapid pace, anxious to return to the dock and then home, to see if Gwen really intended to satisfy her needs. He wondered why she had chosen to remain bottomless. 

Beside him, Gwen slouched and spread her legs. Her hand reached for his and placed it on her mound. "Tim? Now, please?" 

He dropped the throttle to idle so that his wife would have his complete attention and his fingers began to circle, stroke and push. With boats speeding by a few yards away, Gwen exploded in a breathtaking, muscle-straining orgasm.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 13



This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

"Do you think Walt will miss working?" 

Gwen had redressed soon after the last tremors of her orgasm had passed, crouching in the cockpit to put her bikini back on before adding a layer of t-shirt and shorts. The urge to openly flaunt her sexuality had quieted after her climax; modesty and common sense returned. 

Tim scanned the open expanse of water in front of him. "I doubt it. He's been ready to hang it up for a while—we both know that. No, I think there's only one thing he's gonna miss about showing up to work now."

What's that?" 

Tim didn't respond, debating the wisdom of his answer. 

Gwen sensed his hesitation. "Tell me."

"Don't get mad, but you know he's an old horndawg—always has been, right?" Gwen nodded. "Never passes up a chance to look down a woman's shirt or up her skirt. I was always worried one of our customers was going to catch him doing that. That's one of the reasons I had you send him out to the industrial jobs as much as possible. That and because there was usually more space for him to move his fat ass around in a warehouse than some poor lady's bathroom." 

"I always suspected that about him. To tell you the truth, I think he tried to do it do me more than once. I just thought I was being paranoid."

"You weren't paranoid. I caught him checking you out a few times. Checking to see if you mighta missed a button or something, I guess. He's harmless," Tim quickly added. "He never tried to do anything more than look—he knew that me and Cliff would kick his ass if he stepped out of line with a customer, and Norma would finish the job when he got home—but he does like to look. He'd get some quick peek at some poor woman's bra strap and tell the apprentices how she was practically naked. 'Course, ninety-nine percent of Walt's stories are bullshit, and we all know that, but he liked to think that the apprentices were more gullible than Cliff or me."

"Did he ever make up things about me? And weren't you upset that he was looking at me like that?"

Tim shrugged and smiled apologetically. "No, he never said anything about you when I was around. Besides, I think everyone knew you were really good at not showing anything, even on the hottest days, so he didn't have much of anything to make shit up about...at least until a few weeks ago." 

"What happened a few weeks ago?"

"He spent all those years working around you every day and never got even a little peek of something he shouldn't have. And then you came up to the pool in your bathing suit...

Gwen was shocked. "How do you know all this? And you said that bathing suit wasn't too revealing! I told you I should have stayed in the house!"

"Your suit's not revealing at all," Tim said with a laugh. "But it still showed more of you than he's ever seen. And I only know because I heard him talking to Andrew a few days after. They didn't see me in the parts room. He seemed real happy about hauling his ass up to the pool and how what he had seen gave him some pretty detailed guesses at what he hadn't." Tim thought back to how Andrew's guess as to the style and volume of Gwen's pussy hair had been much more accurate than Walt's. "By the way, Andrew thinks you're hot, too." 

The Lady was both horrified and insulted at thought of Walt and Andrew discussing her in a less than professional manner, but the Slut awakened from her orgasm-induced stupor to purr seductively. The idea that the young apprentice in particular found her pleasant to look at was exciting news. I'll show you mine if you show me yours...the Lady hushed her. "Well, thank you very much for that information," Gwen huffed. "I'll be sure to wear my winter jacket tomorrow when Walt comes by to finish his retirement paperwork!" 

Tim was silent for a moment. "Or," he began slowly, "you could go the other way. Maybe show him a little bit more as a going away present."

"Timothy Allen Nelson! Are you suggesting I expose myself to one of our employees?" 

"Our retired employee," he corrected. "He's leaving town on Wednesday. Might be fun to give him a little something less than your bathing suit to remember you by."

"What do you expect me to do? Meet him at the door naked?" 

"I think showing him that much might give him a heart attack, but I'll let you decide just how much you want to let him see. Maybe leave some parts for his overactive imagination to fill in?" 

"He'll tell everyone!"

"And everyone will think it's one of his bullshit fish stories. Nobody's gonna believe it for a second."

"I'm going to be there alone with him! He might attack me!"

"I doubt it. He's all look and talk, no action. Always has been. He's afraid Norma would turn him into a gelding if she ever found out."

"I can't believe you're suggesting your own wife expose herself to another man!" 

"What can I say? Andrew's right. You're hot. It's kind of a turn on knowing other guys can only look at what I get to touch. Sorry, I know I'm sounding like a pig, but I guess it's a quirk of mine. I've always wished I could show you off a little. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time you've given a guy a peek, right?" Gwen wanted to reply that the dressing room had been an accident, but she knew that would not ring true and fell silent at this reminder of her recent history. 

The ride home was quiet. The illicit thrill of being naked in front of others as well as the display that other couple had put on had culminated with her shamelessly rutting with Tim out in public (not quite in public, the Slut grumbled), and then her own thunderous orgasm in the cockpit of their boat. Her arousal had subsided with her release, but Tim's suggestion had given it an excuse to flare to life again. And now her lust was mixed with doubt, worry and guilt. She had displayed herself to others, had watched a complete stranger being pleasured, and had made no effort to hide the fact that she had serviced her husband. And now the dilemma of perhaps a more personal retirement gift for Walt...this couldn't be normal! Even Natalie would have to agree! 

It worried her more that as far as she had gone with this, she wanted to go further. She would have liked to let Bob look all he wanted, maybe even open her legs to him; but the idea of being "proper" was a tough one to shake, even when there was no clothing to hide behind. She would have loved to watch how the pregnant woman safely 'did it' while satisfying her partner, or to see if the woman's husband took her desires and the baby's well-being into account, and it would have been so scandalous to have returned the favor and let the couple watch Tim make love to her! Of course, they would likely not have had any interest in two old people rolling around in the sand. But all that was way, way outside the limits of decency, and if any of her perverted behavior was ever revealed to her family and associates...

She and Tim made love that night. The Lady had managed to quell the fires of arousal and her heart was not in the act, but her husband's erection had led the way as he came out of the bathroom at bed time despite their activities that afternoon (or perhaps because, the Slut suggested), and she took care to make sure he was satisfied before they slept. There would certainly be no orgasm for her; that was the Lady's punishment for her inexcusable behavior on the beach and lewd thoughts beyond, and she enforced it with a mix of guilt and remorse that Gwen had not felt in a while. Still, the dreams returned that night. They were a curious mix of snippets from old dreams mixed with utterly fantastic and impossible situations stemming from her adventures; jumbled fragments of remembered people, places, and what-if situations. 

Gwen awoke early, vaguely aware that her dream-fueled lust had regained the upper hand during the night. She knew she was ready for some more of...that, whatever that might be. Maybe she could take the edge off with Tim when he awoke. Maybe a tongue in the right spot might help him get up...The Lady vetoed that plan. Let him sleep. He has a long day of work ahead of him. 

He awoke at the normal hour, enough time to get ready, not enough to make love, Gwen thought sourly. Maybe I can sneak back here after the trucks are gone and get out my toys, to remove the edge before Walt is due to arrive so I'm not tempted to act improperly.

No, I can't do that either. It's Eric's first day. We need to do his new hire paperwork, and Tim's going out with him on appointments today, so they can't leave until everything's finished. The Slut suggested asking Eric to wait in the shop while Gwen dragged her husband to the office couch upstairs for some satisfaction. Gwen dismissed the notion with a nervous laugh, but not before imagining herself with her husband between her legs while the new hire waited patiently downstairs. 

Tim barely beat his new employee to the shop that morning. The first hour or so was spent introducing him to the others as they straggled in, then familiarizing him with the routine before he sent the young plumber up the stairs to begin filling out all the necessary forms. Gwen's sexual fervor was temporarily quieted as she concentrated on the tasks before her, although the Slut insisted the young man should strip down for an exam before he was allowed to leave. It was nearly ten o'clock before Tim and Eric finally pulled out of the yard on the way to their first job. Gwen glanced at the clock and knew that her plan for self-satisfaction would have to wait. Work before pleasure, and there was still plenty to do before Walt was due to arrive around noon. Behave yourself while he's here and I might allow a little self-abuse and degradation after he leaves, the Lady bargained. 

Walt kept popping into her mind as she worked. He had been here a long time and she had grown fond of him despite his crude nature and gruff ways. His feelings on the female form and the pleasures he expected women to provide came as no shock, although it would surprise her greatly if his own wife saw things the same way. She also knew that while Walt called her 'boss', albeit in a barely-concealed patronizing tone, to him she was first and foremost a member of the weaker sex. Her husband's revelation of Walt's interest in what she had hidden beneath her conservative dress all those years had not been a shock either. In many ways, Walt exemplified the traits Gwen's mother had told her to expect from men, especially working class men.

Walt probably would have had a stroke if he had seen me on that beach yesterday, she mused. Would have served him right. Her musing began to coalesce into something more serious, something more thought out. The plan that was forming was no doubt a product of her current sexual frustration, and was risky, stupid, and downright dangerous. On the other hand, Tim was most likely right-it could be fun to see if she could fluster him, and Walt probably wouldn't object to being flustered under those conditions. It might even be a nice going-away present. Not to mention great payback for all those years of being ogled.

Gwen turned off the air conditioning and hurried back to the house and her bedroom closet. Their uniform company had given her a woman's blouse with the Nelson Plumbing logo on it as a sample some time back—she had considered it too risqué back then, with its wide open short sleeves and fabric more sheer than the customary denim. It might be just the thing today. Ali's closet was next and the golf skirt she had worn on that trip to the supermarket a few towns over was removed. Her sole concession to the Lady's plaintive moaning was a sweater she might throw on if she chickened out, or worse yet, Norma came along for the ride. 

She carried the outfit back to the office, debating for the next half hour whether or not to actually go through with this insane plan. He'll tell everybody what he saw, the Lady screamed. The slut was quick to repeat Tim's counterpoints. He's leaving town in two days, and even if he tells people, no one's going to believe him. Everyone knows he's quick with the tall tales, and this would be so unbelievable. What if he tries something? The Lady argued. You'd be helpless. He's all talk, the Slut countered. He knows if Norma found out, it would be bad news for him. Mind made up, Gwen stripped. Slacks, long sleeve shirt, and sensible shoes were replaced with the golf skirt, blouse, and sandals, only the now-customary high-cut underwear she had put on that morning left in place. A peek or two, not a full show, she reminded herself. 

Gwen fiddled with the buttons on her blouse, playing with various combinations until she settled on an open collar down to the button holding the shirt together across the top of her breasts. She wondered whether she was being too obvious. 

The sound of crunching gravel outside ended the debate. Gwen hurried to the window. Walt, and only Walt, was slowly easing his bulk out of the parked truck. With a deep breath and trembling knees, she made her way downstairs to meet him. 

She was waiting for him as he entered through the side door. "Walt, congratulations on your first day of retirement!"

The big man stopped short. The slacks and long sleeve shirt he had known for so many years, rain or shine, hot or cold, had been replaced with bare arms and legs. "Uh, hi Gwen, thanks. It seems pretty strange." Not retirement, he thought. This seems like just another day off. But seeing you dressed like that is definitely not what I expected when I woke up today. 

"I'm sure it does! You and Norma are heading out Wednesday, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe even tomorrow, if we can get a couple of things done." He tried to not be too obvious about checking out the strange woman with the plunging neck line in front of him. Fucking great, Gwen, he grumbled to himself. I'm done and you start dressing like this? 

"Well, let's get your paperwork done and get you on your way as quickly as possible. Come on up to the office." Gwen hurried up the stairs, stopping about halfway up before Walt had even reached the first tread. He looked up at the waiting woman and nearly stopped breathing. He could see up underneath the hem of her skirt, nearly to where the backs of her thighs flowed into that cute little ass he had always imagined to be under her shop foreman's pants. "Sorry, but the air conditioner finally died," she said looking down at him. It's a little stuffy up here, so I've been dressing down to stay cool."

"Uh, that's okay, I don't mind. And your outfit looks nice," he hurriedly added. 

"Why, thank you sir." 

C'mon, go up another stair or two, Walt begged. Lemme get a better look at what's under that skirt. Gwen held her ground, looking down at him expectantly, and finally the big man gave in, trudging upwards. She hurried the rest of the way up as he tried to catch a glimpse underneath the swirling fabric, imagining he saw asscheeks and the darkened space between them before she reached the landing and disappeared off to the left. 

He finally reached the top of the stairs and Gwen offered him the chair across from her desk. Yer right, kinda warm up here," he volunteered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat his brow was accumulating from the still air, his climb, and Gwen's attire. 

"Can I get you something to drink?" Gwen offered, a sly grin on her face. "You're retired now. Would you like a beer?" 

"I guess I can do that now, huh? That'd be nice." 

"Be right back." Gwen hurried back down the stairs, Walt noting his boss's chest seemed to have more of a bounce than he had ever remembered seeing before. Must be the shirt. Doesn't strap her down as much as that armor plate she always wears. I dunno what the fuck is goin' on here, but if I didn't think it was impossible, I'd swear ole' Gwen Nelson done took that stick outta her ass! Maybe Tim got tired of her stuck-up shit and fucked some sense into her after his party Saturday. Or maybe before—she did seem pretty happy all night.

He was focused on the stairs at the sound of her return, noting just how much the sheer fabric jumped and shifted as Gwen bounced up the steps.

"A beer for you, sir," she said setting down the can before him. "Water for me, I'm afraid. I'm still on the clock for a few more years. I'm really sorry about the heat," she apologized, delicately grasping the shirt between her breasts and pulling it away from her body a few times in an attempt to fan herself. Walt did his best not to stare at the bare flesh that was being flashed like a deer's tail. "Alright, let's see what we have left and get you out of here as quickly as possible." Gwen stood behind her side of the desk and selected a paper from the top of a nearby pile. "Alright, this—" she bent over and placed the paper before him, gently putting a finger on the first spot to sign "—is for Social Security."

Walt looked down to where her finger lay, then up for confirmation. His gaze stopped for a fraction of a second at the gap that had opened between her shirt and chest—he could swear he saw the side of her breast dangling in there, unencumbered by a bra— Holy fuck-tit flesh!-before long years of practice forced his eyes up to avoid being caught peeking. Gwen smiled at him expectantly and gave no indication he had been caught. 

Walt peered intently back down at the paper, willing himself not to try for another look at the tits practically hanging free just inches from his face. Gwen held her pose as he initialed and signed all of the necessary blanks on the paper. Satisfied, she straightened and took the document back.

"One down!" The next piece of paper from the stack slipped through Gwen's grasp and fell to the floor behind the desk. She quickly turned and bent at the waist to retrieve it, the hem of her dress tantalizing the man on the other side as it rose high up her legs, enough to reveal all of her toned thigh. Could probably suffocate somebody with those legs if she ever wrapped 'em around their head, Walt thought with amusement, reaching for his beer and feigning disinterest as she straightened with paper in hand. He was ready for her this time, his eyes already at her expected chest level as she bent to explain the document to him. He was not disappointed, most of Gwen's right breast now on display under her gaping shirt, only her nipple obscured by his viewing angle.

The image of her hanging breast was burned in his mind as he turned his attention to the paper in front of him. 32c's, he decided with the confidence of a man who had spent more than a few hours in the county's strip clubs. Small, but I'll bet they don't sag. His imagination suggested pink nipples with quarter-sized areolae capping those little beauties as his sleeping length stirred.

He managed another peek after signing in all the appropriate spots and allowing her to whisk the paper away from him. It was put back on the pile, and Gwen turned her back to the appreciative man. He didn't have to pretend to be looking somewhere else as she again bent at the waist and opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet behind her. Walt's beer stopped midway to his lips as the skirt again lifted high up her thighs, revealing the bikini panties beneath. They were doing a noble imitation of a thong, the dark-blue fabric bunching up between her cheeks, the dark line in stark contrast to the flesh of her pale buttocks. Walt's shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his cock pushed against the roll of belly fat holding it down, his little head suggesting this display was intentional and she wanted it even as his calculating, cautious side thought that too good to be true. She's been wearing the old lady clothes for so long she doesn't even know how to keep herself from showing off in this outfit. He had plenty of time to admire that beautiful ass and still be looking somewhere else when she straightened and turned. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 13



The document was placed in front of him and she again bent to show him the places to sign. He risked a slight shift of his eyes upward and was rewarded with her right breast in all its glory, capped with the perfect little pink nipple he had imagined. A swirl of whipped cream on it would make for a helluva dessert and he briefly imagined using his tongue to clean them off. He managed to sign in all the proper places and still got in another glance before she took the paper and stood. Gwen bent over the filing cabinet again and Walt was given plenty of time to imagine what delights lay beneath that thin strip of fabric running between her asscheeks and through the slight spread of her thighs. No stray hairs that he could see, although the thought of Gwen Nelson shaving down there was not really considered—hell, the only bare pussies he had ever seen was in magazines and on strippers. Wives and mothers didn't shave their shit, no matter how much Andrew said different. His cock filled his mind with thoughts of bending her over like that while he drove it home, ignoring the fact his sizeable stomach would likely make that very difficult. 

"Last one!" She announced brightly, turning and placing the document before him. Walt took his time, pretending to read, sneaking quick glances at the left tit now hanging in almost-plain sight. Finally satisfied, he signed one last time and allowed her to take the paper away. 

"And now, you are officially retired," Gwen said to the man doing a poor job of keeping his eyes off her chest. "Well, once I send the paperwork in, of course. But you don't have to come here any more." 

"I'll miss coming here," Walt replied, finding her eyes. "Maybe I'll come back and visit when we're in town." 

"You better," Gwen said sternly. "I'll want to hear what Tim and I can look forward to in retirement." 

Walt was reluctant to rise, afraid the bulge in his crotch would give away what he had been viewing, doubtful what Norma called his dunlap (because "his belly dunlap over his belt") would be an effective shield. The smiling woman in front of him was expecting him to move though, and he slowly rose, turning slightly away from her. She let him lead the way to the stairs, following him down the first couple of steps. "Whoops—sorry, be right down," she called over her shoulder as she turned and hurried back up to her desk. Walt cursed himself for not being quick enough to turn and get another look at that delicious ass as it retreated and he continued to the bottom to be ready for her reappearance. 

Gwen was back at the top of the stairs a few seconds later, intently studying one of the forms. From his vantage point, Walt had a perfect view up the front of her skirt and between her legs, only the dark blue panties keeping him from gazing upon the gates of paradise. "No, no, you're fine," she said without taking her eyes from the paperwork. "Everything's been signed." Paradise was lost and the document returned to her desk. Gwen descended the stairs, the big man glued to his spot until she reached the bottom. 

"Well, uh, I should goin'," he mumbled, looking down at her.

"Be safe. Come back and visit. Hopefully we'll have the air conditioner fixed."

Christ, I hope not, he thought. I wanna see how you cool off next time. Gwen opened her arms to offer him a hug. Walt hesitated, unsure about her first outward sign of affection since he had started here all those years ago. "Uhh, I'm kinda sweaty," he offered, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. 

"So am I." Her arms were around his massive midsection, and he tentatively returned the hug, his hands on her back obstinately confirming what he already knew—that she was braless. 

Gwen released him. "Give our best to Norma." 

"I will." And then I'll give her mine, he thought. A roll in the hay is gonna be real nice. 'Course, it might have to wait until tonight. Norma might start askin' questions if I start lookin' to get laid in the middle of the afternoon. 

Gwen walked him out to his truck, waving until the bumper disappeared out of sight down the driveway. The remaining buttons on her shirt were undone and the garment quickly pulled off even as the sound of Walt's truck accelerating on to the road echoed from beyond the screen of trees. 

The breeze against the wet skin of her bare torso had a tingling, sensual feel to it, no doubt inspired by the thoughts of what she had just done racing through her mind. The Lady nagged that she was fortunate Walt had not drawn his own conclusions to the show and that, despite his earlier assertions Tim would not be pleased, but the Slut crowed triumphantly. It was one thing to flash total strangers, but exposing herself to someone she knew, someone who knew her, brought the excitement to new levels. 

The skirt slipped from her waist and puddled on the floor two steps inside the kitchen, and Gwen paused just long enough to avoid tripping as she stripped off her panties and discarded them in the hallway. She couldn't be bothered to remove her sandals, hurriedly retrieving the rabbit from her nightstand and flopping back onto the still-made bed, not caring that she was likely tracking dirt on the duvet. 

Gwen thumbed the switch and laid the humming length down her furrow while her free hand gently grasped a breast. It was only a moment before the sensation against her clitoris became too much and she withdrew the length from her slit. She had other plans for it, and her opening willingly gave way to the cool bulbous head as it bulled through. Gwen buried the vibrator to bring the ears of the tickler up against her suddenly neglected clit. She jerked and shuddered, fighting to maintain the sensations coming from between her legs, her impending climax roaring like a wave in her ears as it approached. With a crash, it broke over the splayed woman, thighs clamping together convulsively while her hand cruelly squeezed her breast. Gwen's eyes were squeezed shut against the intense assault on her nerves, but her mouth was open. The roaring in her ears prevented her from hearing the 'oh—' she couldn't stop from escaping. 

And then it was over. Gwen rose and trudged back to the shop office on unsteady legs, only performing a cursory check as she stepped out of the kitchen door naked and covered in orgasm-induced sweat as to whether anyone might have returned during her self-pleasuring,. The air conditioning was running when the crews returned several hours later and Gwen made sure everyone could see she was dressed as she had been when they left that morning. There would be no evidence that would back up any story Walt might tell. 

She had dinner waiting when Tim finally made his way over to the house. They sat and ate as they had so many evenings before, catching up on the day's events, Gwen listening appreciatively as Tim discussed the wisdom of Eric's hiring. 

"So, one employee in, one employee out," he said, cutting a piece of chicken. "How did paperwork with Walt go?"

"Fine," Gwen replied, taking a sip of tea. "I, uhh, did what you suggested and, well, you know..."

Tim's knife stopped and he looked up. "You mean, what we talked about yesterday?"

"Yes...you were serious, right? You said you wanted me to?"

Tim ignored her question. "In the office, while he was signing papers?" Gwen nodded.

"How'd you do it?" 

"Well, I had a short-sleeve blouse that—"

"Show me." Tim rose from the table. "Go get dressed like you were when he was here and I'll meet you over at the shop."

Gwen rose, still uncertain. "You're not mad, right?"

Tim laughed. "No, I'm not mad at all. Just surprised—I didn't think you'd do it! You're getting to be full of surprises! Go on, get changed." He looked at her expectantly until she turned for the hallway. "Meet you over there," he called out over his shoulder, heading out the door. 

Gwen took her outfit out of the dirty clothes, the shirt still slightly damp from her sweat. She dressed, hesitating on her choice of what buttons to leave undone and what panties to wear, unsure if it was a good idea to show Tim just how much she had revealed. The Slut sagely preached complete honesty, and Gwen relented. She made her way across the yard to where a light shone from the side door. 

Tim was waiting inside for her. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, and the Lady quickly announced that she had made a serious mistake following the Slut's advice. "Too much?" she asked weakly.

"No, you look great, really nice," her husband replied with controlled enthusiasm. "A lot less than what he's ever seen you in before, but still more than what a lot of our customers answer the door in. Tim walked by her to the door. "So he came in here? Where were you?" 

"I was at the bottom of the stairs," Gwen replied, trading places with her husband. "Once we said our hellos, I went upstairs and he followed." She began to climb, stopping halfway up to look back down where her husband was now standing at the bottom, grinning. "We did the paperwork up here," she called down, wondering if he intended to join her. 

"Did you stop there?"

"I guess, why?" 

"I can see a beautiful pair of blue panties from here. Did you know he could see them?"

"Maybe, I wasn't sure..." Gwen hurried up the stairs, embarrassed to admit she had been hoping for just that. Tim hurried up behind her. "I had the air conditioning off. I told him it was broken and that's why I was dressed like this—I was trying to stay cool." 

"Good plan," Tim agreed. "So I guess he sat on one side of the desk and you sat on the other?"

"Well, he sat and I stood." Gwen walked behind the desk, and Tim took the seat across from her. "And then I started going through the papers with him, showing him where to sign." She took a piece of paper and set it down, then mimicked her pose. 

"Holy shit, Gwen, I can see right down your shirt!" 

She looked down, already knowing the truth—she had practiced it before Walt had arrived. "Can you see-everything?"

"Everything." He reached out and slid his hand between shirt and skin, gently palming the dangling breast, sliding the stiffening nipple between two fingers like the stem of a wineglass. "Did you show him anything else?"

Gwen was reluctant to move away from his touch, but felt a greater need to continue the reenactment. She backed away and stood. "I accidentally dropped the next form and I had to pick it up." 

The skirt rose, and Tim chuckled. "I actually kinda feel sorry for that poor bastard. I'm havin' a hard time sitting comfortably."

Gwen put the retrieved paper on the desk and resumed her position while Tim gladly slipped his hand back inside her shirt. "Did you show him anything else?" 

"I had to get some things from the filing cabinet," she replied again reluctantly moving away from the hand on her breast and turning around. 

"God, what an incredible ass," Tim breathed appreciatively. "He didn't try and do anything, right?" 

"No, he just fidgeted and sweat a lot. It was pretty warm up here."

"I'll bet he did. So you kept doing that until he was done signing stuff?"

"Yes, and then I walked him downstairs." 

"Same way? You at the top, him at the bottom?"

"I suppose, yes. I had to go back to check and make sure he had finished a form."

"The paperwork's gotta be right," Tim agreed with mock seriousness. He rose and made his way down the stairs. "Come show me where you were." 

Gwen waited until the sound her husband's boots on the wooden steps became a thud on the cement pad at the bottom. She moved to the top of the stairs and stood. Tim stared back up at her, the look on his face what she could only describe as confident lust, and began to slowly make the climb back up. He stopped several treads down, his face even with her crotch. "A little piece of underwear," he said, putting one knee on the next stair and leaning forward, "was the only thing keeping him from seeing that beautiful pussy." Tim reached under her skirt, hooked his fingers into the sides of the offending garment, and pulled them down. "Yup. Beautiful." He flipped up the front of her skirt and bent forward, his lips gently nuzzling her cleft. Gwen shuffled forward a bit, anxious to give him better access and his tongue began to probe. "You're wet," he said. "I'm gonna guess you liked all this."

Gwen looked down at the man under her skirt, and the staircase behind him. As much as she was enjoying his attention, she didn't relish the thought of explaining the circumstances under which her husband had fallen down the stairs. "Tim, we can go back to the house, if you like," she offered, backing away, giving him space to join her on the landing. 

He smiled up at her and climbed the last few stairs to join her. "Uh-uh." Gwen was gently spun away from her husband. "Go." His hands on her shoulders guided her back to her chair, stopping and spinning her back once she stood between her chair and the desk. She could smell the sweat, PVC cement and acetylene imbedded in his clothes as he removed hers and gently lay her back on the surface behind her. Tim brought the chair in front of where he legs now hung, sat, then grabbed both ankles and propped them up on the arms of the seat. Satisfied, he resumed his oral explorations. 

His patient roving hands and tongue and the thrill of being taken in such a commanding way by the man she loved brought her to the edge of her second orgasm of the day. She was close, very close, when the hands and tongue were removed, his stubble teasingly scratching her inner thighs. Gwen looked up, eyes begging, at where her husband now stood. "Please, just a little more!" 

His answer was his grin and the unbuckling of his belt and pants. With a push of his boxers he released hid very ready erection, swaying just inches from her sex. My cunt, she corrected. That's the right word for this occasion.

Tim's first thrust triggered her climax, her walls allowing him access before clenching spasmodically around the invader as he buried himself in her. He would normally hold still to avoid being a potential distraction when Gwen would shudder through her little deaths, but he could not bear to afford her that courtesy today. He pounded harder as her breathing stopped and her body tensed almost painfully; pulling her back onto his cock as she slid across the wood surface after she went limp with one final convulsion. Gwen came back to the here and now at the sound of Tim's loud grunt and the feel of his body between her legs trying to get just a little deeper as he filled her with his seed.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 14



This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Gwen eyed the rider next to her and smiled. Cool temperatures and damp skies had moved into the area midweek, and Natalie had kept her shirt on this time up the ridge—in fact, the bright-red sweatshirt she also wore meant she had probably had on more than she had ever ridden in before. Gwen missed her sister's topless look, but couldn't fault her for the extra layers as they climbed through the mist that hugged the forest floor. 

"I heard you strong-armed your father into having the firm give Cricket some pro bono work," The warmly-dressed blonde said as the two horses picked their way up the wet track. 

"I didn't strong arm-him," Gwen protested with the hint of a smile. "I just reminded him that Nelson Plumbing had provided the firm with many low-cost, quick-turnaround services to in the past, and I was hoping they might be able to provide a service in return."

"We both know how much your father hates to give up perfectly good billing hours, so that was quite a favor to ask for," Natalie laughed, "and therefore a very nice thing for you to do for Cricket. Hopefully Joe's been helpful. Have you heard from her lately?" 

"Oh yes, she and I talk every two or three days." Gwen had been persistent in reaching out to the young woman, and lately it had been Cricket who had been initiating the call, much to Gwen's delight. "It seems like she's getting things under control—a little bit more confident and upbeat every time we talk."

Gwen lowered her voice to the proper level for salacious gossip. "She told me Joe did some digging and found some very interesting things about her husband."

"Ex-husband," Natalie corrected with a laugh, "once Joe Gambini gets done carving him up. So what did he find?" 

"Well, he's divorcing her on the grounds of physical and emotional abandonment. Says she wouldn't give him children even though she had promised him before they got married. She says she never agreed to that, but he must have seen it differently. It turns out there's a woman he works with who was only too happy to make his wish come true, but she jumped the gun a little and got pregnant before he ever filed for divorce. So now he's on the hook for adultery. Also, he's due a large bonus at the end of the year, one he never told Cricket about and hoped to keep all to himself by making the divorce final before the payout. Joe thinks he hired a lawyer to speed up the process, hoping Cricket wouldn't find out about the baby or the money." 

"I hope she's asking Joe to get her ex's worthless little balls in a velvet box as part of the settlement. You're a really good person for helping her, Gwen. You make me proud to be your sister." 

Gwen blinked away the tears welling in her eyes. "Just helping someone who needs help." 

"A lot of people would have said it wasn't their problem and walked away. She must be a pretty remarkable person—I'd love to meet her."

"She's coming over tomorrow to ride, if you want to come with us." 

"Thanks, but I'm taking an extra shift at the hospital tomorrow for someone who's a bridesmaid in a wedding. But definitely some other time."

They lingered at the picnic table for only a moment, taking in the swirls of vapor rising from the trees below before making their way back down the hill. Both riders and horses were damp from the clinging mist as the women unsaddled and groomed their mounts. 

"Not a good day for a swim," Natalie observed glumly as she turned Tigger loose in the corral. The horse promptly retired under the overhang of the barn roof. 

"No, it's not," Gwen agreed. "Sorry, but the hot tub's not ready yet, either. Tim's going to get that running this weekend." 

"A nice hot shower will do just fine," the slightly bedraggled blonde said brightly and made her way to her car to retrieve her surgical scrubs. 

"Want me to make us lunch? Or coffee?" Gwen offered as her sister joined her in the kitchen. 

"Maybe after." Natalie stood there, looking at her expectantly. "Are you joining me? You have to be as cold and wet as I am." 

Gwen stood there a moment, blinking. "Oh, yes, of course, yes, that would be nice, thanks for asking." The Slut instructed her to stop babbling while the Lady petulantly moaned about how easy it had become to shower with another woman. She led the way down the hall to the master bath, Natalie close behind. 

Gwen busied herself gathering towels for she and her guest while behind her the shower started. Natalie was already down to her bra and panties by the time her sister turned. The underwear was gone and the naked woman had stepped into the rapidly fogging glass enclosure before Gwen had her shirt off. She finished undressing, a lifetime of habit forcing her to put her dirty clothes in the proper hampers before opening the shower door.

"God, this feels so good!" Natalie groaned as water from the main nozzle cascaded through her hair and down her body while gentler sprays bathed her from all around. She wiped her eyes and grabbed the shoulders of the body she knew had just joined her, maneuvering the woman between her and the showerhead. "C'mon—get some of this."

Gwen welcomed the sting of the hot spray, closing her eyes and allowing the runoff to course down her body, aware of Natalie's large breasts pressed into her shoulder blades. She felt rather than saw an arm reach beyond her for a bar of soap. It was gently placed at her throat, moving in languid circles as it moved down on to her shoulders while Natalie's other arm wrapped around her from the other side in a gentle embrace, one hand working with the other trying to create lather before the hot water washed it away.

Gwen sighed contentedly and put her hands on the tile in front of her as the soap gently prodded its way to her armpits. She twitched at the mild tickling sensations and the soap, hand still working up a lather close behind, moved down to her breasts. She didn't flinch when a pair of lips gently kissed the wet skin of her neck as her mounds were sensuously fondled and manipulated, subconsciously arching her back to push them more into the hands giving them pleasure while presenting more of her nape. Gwen was disappointed to feel the hands continue on down to her stomach, but pleased the lips stayed busy where they were. 

Natalie shifted slightly to their left, her nipple gently pushing into the side of Gwen's breast. The soap circling down over her mound and between her legs was passed off to the other hand, which used it to lather all of Gwen's rear end before the bar was unceremoniously dropped and the hands worked in cooperation. Fingers thoroughly probed and cleaned every crevice while lips continued to tickle her neck; her clitoris was circled and stroked before the finger moved to her opening and buried itself firmly inside, the palm it was attached to pushed up against the top of her slit. 

The other hand pushed a finger down the crack of her bottom, hesitating on the crinkled muscle of her rosebud before gently pushing it open and sliding in up to the first knuckle. Gwen gasped in surprise and started at the unexpected invasion. 

"Sshhh, sshhh, it's alright" the lips coo'd from their spot next to her ear even as both fingers continued to fill her. "Just making sure you're clean all over. I'm ready to get out—are you?" 

Gwen nodded dumbly, the fingers were withdrawn and the water shut off. Natalie was first out of the enclosure, grabbing for the towels as her sister emerged. They dried themselves quickly, Gwen still nervous about what she knew was going to happen next despite the Lady's disdain over the casualness of it all. 

"Bed?" Natalie asked in a tone that sounded more like direction. 

"Yes, that would be nice. Bed."

Natalie led the way and waited as Gwen walked past on her way to her nightstand. "Should I, umm, get out my toys?"

"If you want. Tell the truth, I don't think I'll need them today."

Gwen hesitated, unsure if pulling them out now would somehow be seen as an indictment of her sister's inability to sexually satisfy her, or perhaps as a perceived weakness of her own, needing aids when Natalie did not. She left them where they were and lay down, waiting for the naked woman at the end of the bed to join her. 

Natalie put one knee on the mattress, then the other, and shuffled forward. She bent at the waist, supporting herself on one hand while the other began to stroke and smooth the skin of Gwen's stomach. Natalie's face came closer, and their lips met. 

The first touch of another's woman's lips was electric. So soft, so different from Tim. Miss Ritter had never kissed her, most likely because she thought that act of tenderness beneath her, Gwen had always assumed. Their kiss was brief, and then Natalie's lips began their trek down her body. The hand on her stomach had moved down as well, urging Gwen's legs apart so fingers might stroke her other pair of lips. Gwen obliged and spread herself while tentatively smoothing the back of the woman licking at her nipples. 

Natalie shifted and straddled the knee that had been pressed against her calf, bringing her wet sex down onto the firmness below. Her hips began to undulate against Gwen's kneecap as her tongue continued to perform its magic while her fingers stroked and pushed with more urgency. 

Gwen felt some guilt in not doing more to reciprocate the pleasure she was receiving, but the frantic Slut on her shoulder reminded her that the body gripping her leg appeared to be quite happy humping it, and there was not much more to be done at the moment. 

"Ohh, fuck meee..." Natalie called out to no one in particular, signaling the arrival of her orgasm. Her head dropped to the small pillow of Gwen's left breast and her sex ground ferociously against the solidness that was wedged between her thighs. 

"FuckfuckfuckfuckFUUUUUUUCK!" She collapsed to Gwen's side after a final convulsion, knee still captured, her head still resting on her breast. They lay still a moment, Gwen unsure what to do next other than give the heavily breathing woman time to recover. Natalie finally raised her head enough to look at the face just inches from hers. "Whew! That was a good one!" She impulsively planted another quick peck on her startled sister's lips and scrambled into a kneeling position. "And now..." She shot Gwen a wicked grin and scrambled between her still-spread legs, lying on her stomach between them and looking up at her expectantly. "You, uhh, mind if I get a little taste?" 

Gwen was pretty sure what that meant, and in her current state, the idea thrilled her. "Uhh, no?"

A look of concern swept Natalie's face. "Do you mean, no, you don't mind, or no, you don't want me to?"

"No no, I mean I don't mind," Gwen hurriedly answered. "If you, uh, mean...you..." her eyes glanced down to her open sex, "down there." Mind? The Slut crowed. I never thought you'd ask!

"Good," her sister said, a look of relief on her face. "I didn't want to assume. I had a roommate in college that I'd fool around with sometimes—she didn't like another girl kissing her kitty. She was okay with guys going down on her, just not girls. I think she thought she'd have to return the favor or something. I've really been wanting to do this ever since that first time I shaved you—which by the way, I'm happy to do that some other time, since it looks like it's been a while—but not right now." Gwen watched in lustful bliss as the head between her legs dropped and there was the delicate tickle of a tongue against her outer lips. Natalie went to work as her hands found the tits above, and Gwen experienced her second new feeling of the day. Tim's oral efforts were most certainly welcome and appreciated, in no small part because he felt so masculine—the strength of his tongue, the feel of his stubble against her thighs, his searching for the right spot (and occasional misses). Miss Ritter's oral attentionshad been more like Tim, always firm without the stubble and searching, but more methodical, more mechanical, more of a demonstration than a desire to make her partner happy. Natalie was different, and in a very good way. Her tongue was soft and yielding when necessary, but would stiffen up and deliver a jolt of electricity when desired. She just knew all the right places to kiss, to lick...Gwen didn't know exactly when those spots would be touched, but she just sensed they would be. 

She ground herself against the face between her legs, trying to get that tongue and those lips to the right spots in an ever more urgent fashion. She was almost there, and Gwen grit her teeth in anticipation of the explosion to come...

"Are you close?"

Gwen frantically opened her eyes and looked down at Natalie grinning back at her. 

"Very! Please?"

"Tell me what you want to do."

"I want to finish..."

"Finish what?" 

Gwen threw her head back as her hips thrust in an attempt to make contact with that missing tongue. "You know what I want! Please!"

"Tell me."

"I want to climax, alright?" Her plea came out as a wail.

"You want to cum," Natalie corrected. "Keep telling me that and I'll do my best to make it happen."

The tongue touched the frantic woman's clit and held steady, waiting for the magic words. Gwen's hips bucked in an effort to make the contact more solid and she briefly considered trying to force Natalie's head into her sex, but even the Slut advised against this. 

"I want to cum, I really want to cum..." 

"Good girl," the muffled voice from between her legs said, and the tongue returned to its delicious torture. 

"I want to cum so badly, please, please..." Gwen only repeated the mantra a few times more before her jaws again clamped shut and she shuddered into the first intense waves of what she had needed so badly. 

She lay there afterwards in her post-orgasmic glow, too spent to move, as Natalie shuffled forward and kissed her. Not passionately, but more than a quick peck, and flavored with her juices. She patted her sister on the stomach, got off the bed and headed for the kitchen where her duffle bag still sat on the table where she had left it. Gwen joined her, not bothering to dress. 

"Did you like that?" Natalie asked, pulling out scrubs and underwear. 

"It was really nice."

"Really nice?" Natalie snorted. "You trapped me in a hell of a leglock when you went off. Sorry about making you beg like that," she continued, "but I really wanted to hear you make some kind of noise during sex. Guess it's a thing of mine, you know? Your brother used to be really quiet, too, always made me feel like he was nervous or mad or something...and it's fun to make him beg, too."

"That's alright, I'm just not used to talking during..." Gwen stopped to consider the proper word. What was it we were doing, anyways? It wasn't making love, it was too perverted for that, and yet it didn't feel quite so devoid of feeling and emotion to just be called fucking. It was more like...some sort of friendly and fun activity, like a past time or a hobby. Friendly fucking? "And I'm sorry about trapping you."

"Don't worry about it—my way of knowing I pushed the right buttons," Natalie laughed as she put an arm through the jogbra, "and I'm going to get you used to talking—it does wonders for the other person's ego. It's like cheering." 

Gwen froze at the sound of footsteps on the deck outside. The creaking of the screen door opening panicked her into action, turning to flee from the room while Natalie casually continued dressing. 

Tim opened the door and caught a glimpse of a naked ass hurrying around the corner and down the hallway before his attention turned to the body just a few feet from him. "Hey Tim," Natalie said in greeting as she continued to fiddle with the flesh filling the cups of her bra. Satisfied with its fit, she reached into her bag for her scrub pants. 

"Uh, hi," he said, politely averting his eyes. "Sorry to walk in on you, I didn't know you were dressing." 

Natalie laughed. "Don't worry about it. You've seen me in skimpier bathing suits." 

"Yeah, but still..." He realized his plan had not been well thought out and he wondered whether to retreat back out to the deck or go after the rear end he had caught a glimpse of. His decision was made by the sound of feet hurrying back up the hallway. 

"Tim! What are you doing home?" Gwen cried as she rounded the corner, busily tying a robe tightly about her.

"We finished up the Blue Meadows job a little early, so Andrew and I—" 

"Andrew? Andrew's here?" She called out in a fresh panic, prepared to retreat back to the bedroom. 

"Well, yeah, he was out with me this morning, remember? He's in the shop tearing down the pump we took from the job and getting the sand out of it. We'll save it as a spare for when they clog up the one we just installed." 

Gotta go," Natalie said with a smile as she kissed Tim on the cheek, then Gwen. "Thanks for the ride. It's so much fun to spend time together." The Lady groaned in frustration at what her statement might convey to the man standing there. "See you soon." 

Gwen waited until she had shut the door behind her, cautiously peering out the kitchen window, ready to disappear should the young apprentice be on the other side. "Where's the truck? I didn't hear you come in..."

"It's in the shop bay. We've been here a little while," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "We ate lunch in the shop—I didn't see any of the horses up in the paddock, so I thought you and Natalie were still up on the hill, but then Dart came out from under the overhang so I figured you were already back." 

We were probably in the shower when they pulled up, Gwen thought. So we wouldn't have heard them. Which means they could have walked right in while we were...

Friend fucking! The Slut gleefully suggested. Gwen knew the evidence of what they had been doing just moments before Tim entered the kitchen was too strong to deny or explain away.

"Tim, I'm so sorry—"

"No, I'm sorry," he replied, his cheeks red with embarrassment. "I had a pretty good idea what you were probably doing, but I came over to the house anyways. I'm sorry, you have a right to not be interrupted, but I, well...you know."

Gwen didn't dare believe the discomfort he was showing was with himself and not her. "But if you knew we were over here, and you wanted to, uhh, give me privacy, why did you come over?" 

His cheeks reddened even more. "I, uhh, was kinda hoping I might maybe catch a peek of what you and Natalie had been doing some of the other times you got together? Maybe without intruding? Sorry, I didn't think it through too well." 

Gwen's face made it clear she had never considered that even a remote possibility. "You want to see me and Natalie, together? I thought that would upset you. Adam told Natalie he didn't want to know anything about me and her."

"Probably because you're his sister," Tim replied, taking her in his arms. "I'm just a pervert that has an overactive imagination about you and a woman that's not my blood relative." 

She looked up at him, still not willing to believe. "You really find the idea of me with her exciting?"

He released her, stepped back, and undid his belt buckle. "Need proof?" Tim unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then flipped them down along with his boxers. His potent erection sprang into view, the length bobbing for Gwen's inspection. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 14



"Oh my goodness," she cried softly. "Tim, put that away! What if Andrew comes over to the house?" 

"He won't," Tim reassured her, shuffling to the door with his pants still around his knees and locking it. The utter ridiculousness of his restricted gait broke the spell of tension in the kitchen, and he again took her in his arms, his cock now nestled against her robe-covered stomach. "That pump is gonna be his problem to solve. How about you take care of my little problem here?"

"Alright," she said, anxious to provide what he so obviously needed. "Let's get you into the bedroom." 

His hands found her shoulders and gently pressed down. "We don't need to go that far." 

"But if Andrew comes over..." she protested even as she sank to her knees. 

"He won't." 

Gwen gently kissed the bulbous head in greeting, the scent of sweat-laden male musk assailing and exciting her senses. She gently cradled his sac, the skin cool in her palm after being exposed the room's air conditioning. Her lips parted and a waiting tongue welcomed the invader. Tim groaned contentedly and closed his eyes. 

Andrew had heard the SUV rumble past the shop, and a quick look into the yard confirmed the absence of Natalie's vehicle. Tim had assumed both women were up on the ridge on a ride and had set the young apprentice on a recently-disabled pump before abruptly heading up to the house to "check on something". If that was Tim's sister who had just left, then Mrs. Nelson must be back. 

The young apprentice's imagination ran wild as he attempted to concentrate on his task. If she's just back from riding, then she might be in the shower, cleaning up. An enhanced and sharpened mental image of the naked form he had seen that night by the pool was inserted under the spray of water. Maybe Tim was with her, that's why he was taking so long! Andrew replaced Tim with his own naked body, soaping Mrs. Nelson down before she turned her attention to his needs. 

Those impeller blades look awfully pitted, his libido suggested. Maybe you should go ask Tim whether they need to be replaced before you put it back together. Maybe she'll be walking around in a towel while you're asking. He set the wrench down and walked across the yard.

Andrew stopped at the bottom stair. It might work out better if I surprise her just a little, he reasoned. Climb the stairs quiet, try not to make any boards creak, then knock. He crept up, rehearsing his excuse for coming to the house, and stepped onto the deck. 

Andrew sized up the kitchen window in front of him the door to its left. He might have a plausible excuse if he was caught peeking in the door's window. His luck held, and by carefully examining the wood planks for soundness, he was able to make it to the door unannounced. A small gap in the curtain promised a view of the right side of the room beyond and he bent forward to take advantage of it, fist poised to knock on the screen door should the home's owners be looking back at him.

The reality of the scene nearly outdid his imagination. A table partially blocked his view, but he could see Tim clearly over to the right of it, next to the refrigerator, his shirttails covering the ass that sat atop his naked thighs. A brunette head slowly bobbed between his boss's waist and the counter he faced, the body mostly obscured by the table and the face by the Tim's hip, but Andrew had no doubt who it was. Tim had his hands on either side of the head servicing him while it kept a steady pace, his hips contributing to the established rhythm. Andrew could see one arm led under his boss's shirt to grasp his ass as if to pull him in and he guessed the hand of the other was wrapped around the shaft she was sucking. Mrs. Nelson really seems to like to give blowjobs, the young man decided. 

Tim's pace quickened and Gwen gave up trying to match his strokes, holding still while he pumped her mouth with an increasing urgency. Andrew saw her recoil ever so slightly at the first jet as Tim groaned loudly and let loose. She seemed to be in no hurry to escape what Tim was filling her with, holding still through his last weak pulses. 

Tim breathed heavily and opened his eyes as his orgasm passed. A picture frame hung above the sink to his left; it clearly reflecting the light from the door and window behind him, as well as the shadow of a figure on the behind the door's curtain. He panicked a bit, not so much at being caught, but at the thought of the shadowy figure knocking and scaring Gwen while his cock was still in her mouth. He disengaged as quickly and politely as he could, smiling down in gratitude at his wife kneeling at his feet. She looked back up at him expectantly, as if waiting for further direction. 

Another check of the reflection and the shadow was gone. He pulled Gwen to her feet and kissed her. "Thanks—that was incredible."

"You're welcome. But I have to know-you you really wanted to see what Natalie and I were doing? IT doesn't upset you even a little bit that we—I—do that?" 

He pulled up his pants and broke into an embarrassed smile. "Not even a little bit. I really wanted to see. Sorry, it was perverted and rude to try and sneak up on you. I guess I'm strange that way." 

"I just never knew...and it's not as strange as what I do with Natalie, and certainly not as strange as the fact she's my sister."

"And the world keeps turning and no one's the worse for wear," Tim said softly. "It's fun to be strange, isn't it?" 

Gwen smiled. "Maybe a little. You should get back out to the shop. Andrew is probably wondering where you are." 

The young apprentice was coming out of the bathroom, cheeks ruddy, when his boss returned. One man spent the afternoon hoping he had not been discovered while the other wondered what he had seen. 

***

Gwen watched from the kitchen window as Cricket's car wheezed into the driveway the next morning, right on time. She hurried into the yard to greet her with a hug, then invited her back to the house so she could pick out what she wanted for lunch on the trail. 

"Is Tim out?" the young woman asked as they entered the kitchen.

"Emergency call this morning. Left about an hour ago. He says hello."

The women were almost finished packing their lunches when the phone rang. Gwen picked up on the second ring. 

"Hey Gwen, it's me. I was hoping you hadn't left yet."

"Cricket and I were just getting ready to go out to the barn. Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, just hoping you can do me a favor and check on parts availability for a couple of things." 

"Sure—let me run over to the office and get the computer up and running. I'll call you back once I do." 

"Is everything alright?" Cricket asked as Gwen hung up. "I can leave if you're busy."

"Don't be silly," Gwen said with a smile. "I just need to get something from the office for Tim. Come on—we can get saddled up once I'm finished." 

"My mother called last night," Cricket announced ominously as they walked across the yard to the office. "She still wants me to move back in with her so she can help me find a nice man. Apparently, she has a hard time understanding why I'm not ready to jump right back in with some older wealthy gentleman friend of hers and husband number four." 

Gwen smiled. "I take it you don't think that's a good idea?"

"Oh God no! I'm off men for a while, who knows how long. And I definitely don't want to follow my mother's footsteps when it comes to marriage. The only reason I would even think about moving back there is Marvin. It would be nice to see him more. But I just couldn't bear to move back there and listen to my mother." Cricket looked over with concern at the older woman walking next her. "You don't think I should move down there, do you?" 

"No," Gwen said gently. "I really don't think you need someone to run your life for you. You're perfectly capable of doing that yourself." 

The young woman smiled and looked down. "I never imagined how nice it is to have someone who helps me with the tough parts, though. Thank you." 

Gwen led the way into the shop and up the stairs. "Not at all what I expected in a workshop, "Cricket said as she looked around. "So neat and orderly. I should have known you and Tim run a tight ship." 

"Oh, there's dirt and chaos if you know where to look," Gwen said with a laugh. "I'm usually harder on the apprentices about keeping things neat and clean than Tim is."

She called Tim while the computer booted up, and soon he was rattling off a list of products for Gwen to research while Cricket politely waited. 

"And there's an induction valve that came apart in a big way—I know we don't have it in the parts rack—you'll need to check with the supplier. I don't know the part number, but I remember we put it in about 15 years ago. Maybe the part number is on the invoice from that job?" 

"I'd have to go back and look at the paper invoice," Gwen said distractedly as she started checking the list against their own stock and the plumbing supply wholesaler. "That was before we were doing computer billing." She reached into the desk drawer and took out a keychain. "Cricket, could you do me a huge favor and get me an invoice folder from the top drawer of the cabinet?"

"Be glad to," the young woman said, taking the keys. "Top drawer?"

"Mm-hmm, a folder marked 'T-Z 2000'".

The manila folder appeared next to her elbow a moment later. "Thanks." Gwen began to leaf through the papers inside. "Induction valve, right?" She typed for a moment. "No, they don't have it, either. Put it on order?"

"Please, with a rush. This section of the line is down until we can get the valve. All right, I guess that means just close this up until we get the parts. I'll be home in a little while. Have fun riding and be careful. Love you."

"You be careful too, and love you."

Gwen hung up and continued to type, momentarily forgetting the other woman in the office. Satisfied, she pressed the last key with a flourish and looked up and back at the filing cabinet.

Cricket stood there, thumbing through a small catalog. "Are they one of your customers?" the young woman asked, briefly holding up the cover so Sensual Sensations could be seen.

Gwen blushed a brilliant crimson. Deny, lie, or evade, the Lady urged, but she found a version of the truth most expedient. "Oh, uh, no, N-, a friend gave me something from there as a gift and that came in the box."

I'm sorry-I didn't mean to snoop. I just saw it lying in the back behind the folder and thought it looked interesting."

"That's quite alright, nothing to apologize for," Gwen said, regaining her composure, willing her blush to recede. I don't think there's anything wrong with having some of the things in there. Do you?" 

"No," Cricket replied, again thumbing through the pages, "but I'm not sure what some of this stuff even is!" Gwen laughed in agreement. "Forgive me if I'm prying, but did your friend give you," she lowered her voice, "a vibrator?"

Gwen nodded, nervously awaiting the young woman's reaction. 

"And does Tim know about it?"

She nodded again.

Cricket's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Really? I used to have one. I mean it wasn't anything fancy like these, just some cheap thing I bought at the novelty store in the mall. I bought a couple of other little gag gifts with it so the clerk wouldn't think it was for me," she remembered with a nervous laugh. "But Daniel threw it away after we got married, said I wouldn't be needing it any more. I just kind of thought men thought they were nasty, or were threatened by them or something."

"Most men don't find too much nasty when it comes to things like that," Gwen replied quietly, remembering her mother's veiled warnings, "but some men probably do think of those things in the catalog as competition. And some other men are confident enough to know they're not a threat, and even find them, uhh, interesting." It was Cricket's turn to blush. "Would you like to take that home with you and perhaps find a replacement for the one that got thrown away?" 

"Oh no, thank you very much though," the young woman said as she put the catalog back in the cabinet. "The ones in the catalog are pretty expensive, and right now I couldn't even afford to buy the cheap one I had." Gwen smiled in understanding and let the subject drop as she shut down the computer and led the way to the barn.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 15



This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

. 

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

Gwen pushed deeper into the backwoods than she had since her daughters had been teenagers, thankful to have by her side an experienced rider with no pressing need or desire to get back by a certain time. She was also pleased to have Cricket readily accept her invitation to spend the night so they might ride again the next day, the overnight bag the young woman had packed a sure sign that she had hoped to be asked. Their conversation never seemed to lag as each learned more of the other's life via casual references made during their discussions of all things equine. The wine that was consumed during and after dinner further relaxed both women's grip on their privacy, although subjects of intimacy were carefully skirted, each worried the other might find their inner thoughts and desires objectionable. 

Gwen felt the unfamiliar yet comforting warmth of their deepening friendship when the two finally hugged and said their goodbyes that Sunday afternoon. It felt different than what she shared with Natalie. She saw her sister as a mentor, a bold and sometimes dangerous inspiration on her expanding horizons; with Cricket, she was the worldly one, the steadying influence, and she welcomed the chance to play a softer, gentler version of the mother she had been to her daughters. Both roles were more enjoyable than she ever could have imagined just a few short months ago. 

Gwen resisted the urge to call Natalie until Monday morning. "Hi Natalie, how are you?"

"Hey there, I was getting ready to call you! I'm fine...how did things go after I left Friday? I'm guessin' Tim probably figured out what we had been up to. Hope he wasn't upset. He seemed kinda embarrassed to catch me in my undies." 

"No, he was alright with, uhh, all that..." Very alright, Gwen thought, remembering how he had shown his approval right there in the kitchen. "Hey listen, I'm umm, hoping you can do me a favor."

"Sure—anything. What's up?"

"Well...remember those things you gave me a few months back?"

"What, the dildos and the vibrators? Sure, why?"

"I was hoping you might be able to get some more."

"You dirty girl, you. Did you wear out the ones I gave you, or are you looking for some more variety?"

"No no, not for me. I want to get something for Cricket. She told me when she was here riding that her husband threw hers out after they got married. I feel badly for her—I think she would like to have one, but money's tight." 

"Ex-husband," Natalie again corrected her, "and he continues to sound more and more like a petty, limp-dicked asshole."

"Definitely not a nice man," Gwen agreed. "So do you think you can help me out and get something for her?" 

"Well...I've got a better idea. Let's drive up there on Saturday and shop in person. We'll get something for her, maybe something for you...we'll have dinner, be home by 9. How about it?"

"All the way to Atlanta to...shop? Seems like a long way." 

"The journey's half the fun, girl. A little road trip for you and me."

It's only an afternoon, Gwen reasoned. The sleeping arrangements that might have ensued had they planned an overnight stay would have been a cause for both excitement and mild panic, and she was not sure she was ready for that yet. "Would Liz, umm, be joining us?" Just making sure, she assured herself.

"Probably not. I'm pretty sure she's got Ashley this weekend. Maybe we can meet them for dinner before we head home?"

"Dinner might be alright..."It still seems like a long way..."

"It'll be fun. We'll leave about noon, do some shopping, eat and head home. We're doin' it." Natalie's tone made it clear there would be no argument. "Tell Tim you'll be home late--well, late for you two. We'll talk more when I come over on Friday." 

Gwen's next call was to Cricket. "Hey there, everything okay?"

"Everything's okay," the young woman replied softly. "Riding really helps with my sanity. Thank you for everything."

"Think nothing of it. You know you're welcome any time. Speaking of which, I don't know if you had planned on coming over this weekend—"

"No," Cricket answered quickly. "I really feel bad about intruding on yours and Tim's private life so much, and I don't want you to get sick of me always being there. You two work hard, and I know how precious weekends can be, and the last thing you need is some mopey little girl getting in the way of...well, whatever happily married people do on weekends."

"Stop that! You're not mopey, and Tim and I see each other all the time," Gwen laughed. "And you're not in the way." Gwen began to tell the young woman that it was nice to have another rider along now that Ali had a husband to tend to and was not stopping by as much. No need to remind her of someone else's marital bliss. "You're more than welcome here anytime," she repeated. "As a matter of fact, I was calling to let you know I'll be out of town Saturday, but if you wanted to come over and ride on your own, I should be home sometime in the evening. You could stay over and we can ride together on Sunday." 

"I couldn't do that—I mean, do you really want me there without you? You trust me that much around your horses?" 

"Of course I trust you –just don't get lost on the trails, but if you do, I'm sure whatever horse you have will take you back to the barn when they get hungry. And I'm sure Tim will be in and out all day, so you won't be alone."

"But I'm sure I'd be making a mess of his Saturday, him having to keep an eye on me."

"Tim will be doing his own thing and I'll make sure he knows you're fine on your own. He certainly won't be bothered by having you here, so please say you'll come out." 

"I'll think about it..."

"Don't think. Just come over." 

The women said their goodbyes and Gwen turned her attention to the ever-increasing paperwork pile. Eric's speed and efficiency had certainly increased the number of jobs started and completed, and as soon as Andrew passed his test, things would get even busier. 

***

"Change of plans." Natalie dispensed with the normal pleasantries when she called Thursday afternoon.

"What?" Gwen's attention had been divided between the computer screen and the phone she held, but now focused on the woman on the other end of the line. 

"Okay, first, I can't come over tomorrow—I'm pulling a double as a favor for someone. Second, would you mind if we stayed at Liz's Saturday night?" 

Gwen's felt the tingle of anxiety and excitement-induced adrenaline hit her bloodstream. "I thought she had her daughter this weekend?"

"She does, but Barry just sent us both links to the proofs for the photos he took of us, and we thought it might be fun to look at them together. So, we're thinking that maybe after Ashley goes to bed, we could open a bottle of wine and the pictures, and have a laugh going through them."

"Oh—but you don't want me there for that."

"Why not? You were there when they were taken—you should see how they came out. Come on—sort of the same plan, shopping and dinner, then back to her condo for a little mid-evening art viewing." 

Reluctantly Gwen decided that things could not get very far out of hand with Liz's daughter in the house. "Alright, I guess, as long as Tim doesn't mind taking care of the horses."

"Great! See you same time on Saturday."

Gwen's next call was to Cricket, letting her know she would not be home Saturday night after all, but that she was still welcome to come riding without her. The young woman demurred despite Gwen's insistence, finally promising to at least think about coming just for the day. Tim enthusiastically welcomed the news of his wife's overnight stay and initiated their spirited lovemaking that night and the next despite Gwen's insistence that nothing noteworthy was likely to happen.

That Saturday afternoon, Natalie pulled the SUV into the parking lot of the strip mall that held Sensual Sensations. Gwen could not help but look around nervously as she crossed the hot pavement and entered the store, wary of those who might take note of where she was going and guess her intent. The contents of the shop did not startle her as much as her first visit, but she still stopped short and took in the incredible variety of products you would not find in your local department store. Racks of condoms, shelves of vibrators and displays of dildos in all colors, shapes and sizes close by; lingerie and other less identifiable items further back. 

"Natalie! Gwen! What a nice surprise!" Gwen whirled in the direction the voice was coming from and recognized Cho Lin Chen, the owner of the scandalous boutique, approaching from between two racks of what appeared to be leather riding apparel. That's lingerie, the Slut corrected.

"Cho!" Natalie hugged the petite woman. "I was hoping you'd be here today."

"On a Saturday?" she replied with a laugh as she hugged a startled Gwen, "Always. In retail, just because you're the boss doesn't mean you get weekends off. So what brings you two here?" 

"Gwen has a friend whose ex—"

"Not an ex yet," Gwen felt the need to correct.

"Who's soon-to-be ex asshole of a husband threw away her vibrator," Natalie said as she gave her sister a placating smile, "and Gwen wants to get her a new one." 

"Well that wasn't nice of him at all," Cho commiserated. "But very nice of you. I guess some people are jealous of the things we sell here, like they might somehow be replaced by a big rubber cock. Maybe her ex had reason to worry. I'm sure we can help you start putting things right. I'd love to help you pick just the right one, but I'm doing a fitting for a bride-to-be in the private modeling room and I think I'm going to be a while." 

"You sell wedding dresses?" Gwen asked, looking about in confusion. 

"I sell what goes underneath, as well as honeymoon attire," Cho replied with a sly grin. "The bride's mother is a long-time client, and they're both back there waiting for me, so I have to get back. But Dorothy here—"she motioned to a plump little white-haired sweater-clad woman nearby who stepped forward—"can assist you with all your needs. I'll try and catch up with you before you leave. Have fun!" Her lithe body disappeared between the racks of leather and soon only her jet-black hair-covered head could be seen bobbing towards the back of the store.

Gwen watched the sixty-something woman approach, convinced she would be much more at home giving advice on quilting supplies than selling sex toys. "Hello again, Natalie. I'm Dorothy," the older woman said turning her attention to Gwen. "Is there something I can help you two with today?" 

"Gwen here needs some toys," Natalie said in a very clear voice before her sister could respond. The blushing woman cringed and looked about for anyone who might have overheard.

"For a friend," Gwen quickly offered in a low voice, anxious to make it clear they were not for her. "A gift." 

"I see," Dorothy replied with a pleasant smile. "And is your friend a man or a woman?"

"A woman. She's going through a divorce, and I wanted to get her something to replace something she lost, "Gwen felt the need to explain. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you sold things for men?"

Dorothy laughed. "Oh yes, many of the products we carry are designed for a woman's pleasure, but men seem to be able to make use of just about anything. And of course there are items that we sell that are designed for men only. Do you have something in mind for your friend?"

"Well, she had a vibrator, but her husband threw it away. I think she'd like a new one." 

"I see. Do you know what kind of vibrator she had?"

"I don't, but she said she got it at one of those novelty stores you see in the mall?" 

"Oh, one of those," the older woman said with a soft laugh. "They're usually not very good, and they break easily. They're gag gifts meant for embarrassing the person it's being given to more than anything else, in my opinion. I think we can do better than that. Would you happen to know what she prefers in terms of noise and intensity?"

"I, uhh, don't. Is that something I would need to find out before buying one?" 

"No, not at all. It's sometimes helpful to know—shape, vibration strength, and noise level can all play into the choice. Loud vibrators are often very powerful, but if you're trying to be discrete, they may not be the best option. And of course, some women find strong vibration just too intense. Whether or not it's insertable can also be a factor. Perhaps something not too loud that she can adjust the vibration on?" She reached for a nearby package, a close cousin to Gwen's rabbit. 

"I got Gwen almost the same one," Natalie said proudly. "And a Magic Wand, too.

"Excellent choices! So you have an idea what I mean about the varieties? The Wand is very high quality, and one of the most powerful we carry. The rabbit is not as intense, but it does allow for multiple stimulation points, and is a little more portable since it doesn't have the electrical cord the Wand has." 

Gwen nodded, embarrassed to have been outed over her own collection. 

"Well then, perhaps something along the lines of what you have?" Dorothy suggested. "Either is an excellent start to any collection."

"You're probably right...it might be safer to just take one of each," Gwen mumbled. 

"I'm sure she'd appreciate either one of them, so giving her both is a very nice gift indeed," Dorothy said brightly. "The rabbit also has the advantage of being useful for penetration, if she prefers that." She led the way to collect the second vibrator. "Is there anything else you think she might like?" 

"A dildo," Natalie said with loud conviction before Gwen could speak. "I gave Gwen two." Her sister blushed again at this new public broadcast of the contents of her nightstand. 

"Ah, very good." Dorothy led the way a couple aisles over, stopping in front of a dizzying selection of phallic instruments. Some were very lifelike, others more abstract, in many shapes, sizes and colors. "Do you see yours here, Gwen?" the older woman asked.

"Uhh, that one, I think?" She pointed to a chocolate-colored slab of rubber. 

"Oh yes, the Big John. Very popular. A good combination of both girth and length. I prefer thicker to longer, myself. The majority of the nerve endings are clustered around the vaginal opening, so feeling like I'm being stretched a little is more important to me than depth of penetration. I like beer cans better than pool cues! But that's just my preference." Dorothy picked up a curved length of pink rubber, an artistic impression of a mushroom head on one end while a protrusion much like a tulip bulb stuck out at a right angle two thirds of the way back down the shaft. "Forgive me if I'm becoming too personal, but is what you're looking for something you might use together?"

"Oh, no—no, this is just for her," Gwen stammered. "And what in the world is that?" 

"Well, this part here—"Dorothy delicately squeezed the tulip bulb—"is normally inserted vaginally, and the other end—"she touched the rounded end—"is inserted into your partner. The manufacturer claims you can use it just like that for intercourse, but I have a smaller version with a straighter shaft, and I've found it works better if you have a harness to help keep it steady." 

Gwen desperately tried to recover from the shock of the conversation. This sweet little old grandmother not only still had sex, but apparently was not above a little perversion. "I, uhh, think I'll just take one like I have." 

Dorothy smiled and led them to another row. "Of course, dear. Do you know if she enjoys anal play?"

"Anal?"

"Yes, that part of the body is second only to the genitals in concentration of nerve endings. Many people enjoy incorporating some anal play into their sex life." The older woman picked up what appeared to be a string of different sized ball bearings. "Anal beads. You or your partner push them in slowly, then pull them out slowly. Or fast, whatever your mood might be." She smiled. "Some women use them vaginally as well, but you should have a separate set for each activity. They've never done much for me, but a friend in my church group swears by them."

"I think we should get this for you." Gwen turned to see Natalie holding what appeared to be a horsetail mounted on a bump-embedded curved black stick. It can't be a horsetail, she corrected herself as her critical eye examined the plume of black strands. That's not real horse hair. It reminded her of a fly whisk, or maybe some sort of whip, but she couldn't imagine it would be very effective if used like that—the long silky hair would only tickle. "What is it?" 

"This is popular in the Ponygirl and Ponyboy scene —that's a kind of roleplay," Dorothy explained, taking the object from Natalie. "You insert the beads rectally—"she closed her fist around the thin black length, the silky hair hanging from her clenched fingers—"and it looks like you have a tail. The shape and the raised nodules help keep it in place and make it feel a bit like the anal beads." 

"I'll bet Tim would love to see you wearing that around the house," Natalie encouraged.

"Don't be silly—he doesn't even like to ride," her shocked sister babbled. 

"He loves to ride you. Imagine if you pranced around the house, swishing your tail..."

"Stop that! No, I don't think we need anything that goes back there, thank you."

They continued to browse for a few moments more, Natalie pondering a set of sheepskin-lined leather cuffs before deciding to purchase them. Gwen wasn't sure she wanted to know what her sister planned to use them for exactly, but did briefly wonder if Adam would be involved. She decided that if what she had already gathered was good enough for her, it was good enough for Cricket and asked the white-haired grandmother to point them towards the checkout. Gwen was sure to use the personal credit card for this purchase; no need for something like this to appear on a business statement, and the Lady took pains to remind her that the bank now knew she was a registered buyer of sex toys. 

Cho did come back to say goodbye, complimenting Gwen on the wisdom of her purchases before hurrying back to the fitting she was conducting. The women made their way out to the car, Gwen checking carefully to ensure the contents of the plain bag she held could not be seen by passers-by, and they were off to dinner. 

Gwen was surprised and pleased to discover that evening how stern, sexual and slightly-scary Liz was also a wonderful mother. Ashley was reserved and mature beyond her years, respectful of the adults around her and exceedingly polite. For her part, Natalie played the role of firm but doting Aunt to a tee, and neither woman gave the slightest hint of impropriety. 

Ashley was in bed by 8 on her mother's orders, Gwen mildly impressed that the little girl did not attempt to extend her evening by whining or arguing. Liz poured them all a glass of wine. "She'll read for a half-hour and then fall asleep. I'll break out the laptop once she does." Gwen took the opportunity to excuse herself and went out on the little balcony, dialing home as she went. 

Tim answered on the third ring. "Hey honey. Just came back in from the barn. How's the shopping?" He knew what Gwen and Natalie had come here for, and she wondered if he was hoping for sordid details of what she had purchased. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 15



"Good, got her the same things I have," she said casually. "I really hope she doesn't think I'm perverted for giving her this kind of thing."

"It's a nice thing to do," Tim reassured her. "By the way, she just left."

"Oh! She did come over after all?"

"Yup, she was here when I got back, must have gotten here right after you left. She had Tigger up in the field, doing that show-ring stuff that you used to make the girls do. I swear that horse look surprised to be put through his paces again. Then she went up on the hill for a couple of hours. I offered to make her dinner when she came back, but she did all the cooking."

"She did? You must have enjoyed that."

"Well, she's no you in the kitchen, but I didn't go away hungry. Oh, and some time while she was here, she mucked the stalls." 

"Well, that was all very nice of her. I hoped you thanked her." Gwen paused a moment, suddenly recalling what Tim had said earlier. "Where were you coming back from?" 

"Oh, I went out to the lake."

"You usually like to go fishing first thing in the morning."

"Wasn't fishing. I went up to give that couple we met on the beach—Bob and Yvette—an estimate on their bathrooms."

Gwen was momentarily taken aback, uncertain as to what people who could be so casual about themselves in public might be like at home. "Bathrooms?" she asked, unwilling to ask the questions really on her mind. "I thought he said one bathroom."

"Actually, four. They've got a beautiful house. From the looks of it, they do pretty well." 

"Oh." Gwen could not resist any longer. She looked over her shoulder at the women in the living room and lowered her voice. "Were they at least wearing clothes?" 

Tim laughed. "Yes, they were wearing clothes." He chose not to add that Yvette had not bothered with a bra, the brown areolae of her nipples clearly visible under her white t-shirt. 

"So, are we doing the job?" 

"If they want us to, yeah. Bob said they probably won't be ready until after the holidays though." 

She let the subject pass and turned to more mundane matters before the couple said their goodnights. The Lady was uneasy as she hung up, the thought of their employees somehow finding out that they had been naked on a beach with paying customers very real in her mind. Gwen could not find fault with her fears. 

Liz waited forty five minutes before softly padding down the hall and checking on her daughter. "Okay," she announced softly after she returned, flipping up the screen of her computer and carefully angling it away from the direction of the bedrooms, "let's see what trouble Barry got us into."

Gwen spent the next hour marveling at the crisp, vibrant, and erotic images of two beautiful women in incredibly perverted poses. It seemed to her that Barry's camera had captured something somewhat familiar in her memories of the day at the studio while presenting it from angles and perspectives she had never imagined. The stark colors he had worked with—red lips, grey backdrop, pale and lightly tanned skin, even the color of the hair between the models' legs—seemed to brilliantly contrast, blend and pop off the screen in almost comic-book fashion. There was the dull shine of Natalie's broken-in leather collar; the almost arrogant look on Liz's face as her friend's nose was gently pressed into the rust-colored down covering her labial lips; the close-up of a hand resting on the blonde muff between her sister's legs, the index finger disappearing somewhere below. Gwen audibly gasped at the image of a tongue, Natalie's tongue she was sure although the rest of the face was not visible, poised just above what therefore had to be the crinkled muscle of Liz's anus. 

"I can't believe you got that close—down there, like that," Gwen breathlessly declared. 

"She gotten closer," Liz smirked. 

Natalie shrugged her admission. "Wouldn't be the first time she's had me to do that." 

I always ask first, just to be polite," Liz imperiously reminded her.

There was much discussion between the two models as to the relative merits of each shot, of what the client might think, before the lurid slide show finally wrapped up. Liz shut down the laptop and closed the cover. "Well, I'm going to bed. Sleep as late as you want. See you two in the morning."

Gwen looked at Natalie. "Aren't you staying with Liz tonight?" 

The redheaded woman smiled and shook her head. "My ex and I have an agreement that we don't let Ashley see a parade of people going in and out of our bedrooms. He's particularly touchy about her seeing Nat and I together, so when's she's here, we stay in separate rooms so Ashley doesn't tell Daddy about Aunt Natalie sleeping in Mommy's room during our sleepover." 

"You and me tonight!" Natalie exclaimed, smiling at Gwen. "Unless that would bother you..."

"No, that's alright, unless you wanted the room to yourself," she quickly added. "I can stay out here on the couch..." 

Natalie laughed. "Don't be silly. Even the guest bed is big enough for two. I don't know about you, but I'm tired. Come on in when you're ready."

Gwen followed the other women down the hall, hanging back as they kissed each other on the cheek before Liz stepped into her room and closed the door behind her. Natalie entered the guest bathroom carrying her overnight bag, leaving her sister standing in the now dark hallway. She retreated to the relative safety of the guest room and waited, unsure what to do next, the thought that she was about to sleep in the same bed with someone other than Tim for the first time in her life—Miss Ritter had never offered her that luxury—foremost on her mind. 

The bathroom door opened a few moments later and a still-dressed Natalie crossed the hallway to rejoin her. "All yours," she whispered as she stepped by her sister and dropped her bag. Gwen shut the door behind her to give Natalie some privacy as she took her own bag with her.

She returned a few moments later after freshening up and brushing her teeth, cautiously opening the door so as to not expose Natalie should she still be changing. Her sister was already in bed, slouching against the pillows pushed against the headboard. The lower half of her body was hidden beneath the sheets; the upper half naked and exposed. Gwen set down her bag and pulled out a nightshirt. 

"You really need that?"

"I'm in someone else's home," Gwen replied, eying her sister doubtfully. 

"Didn't need it last time you were here," Natalie replied with a smirk.

"Liz's daughter wasn't here last time." 

"So cover up before you leave the room. Problem solved."

Gwen weighed her decision and compromised, hurriedly removing her bra but donning the nightshirt anyways, "just in case". She moved to the vacant side of the bed, pulled back the covers, lay back and flipped them back up to her neck. 

Natalie reached for the lamp on her side. "Lights out?"

"Please." 

The room fell dark save for the lights of the parking lot through the blinds. Natalie leaned over, kissed Gwen on the cheek, and slipped further under the covers. "G'night."

"Good night." 

Gwen tossed and turned for several moments. Like I told Tim, it looks like nothing is going to happen tonight, she thought with a touch of disappointment. The Slut suggested perhaps she could make something up once she got home, just to see how he might react. Natalie rolled to her side, hand propping up her head.

"Can I ask you something?"

Gwen lay still, turning her head to look at her sister. "Of course."

"When we fool around...do you feel like you have to?" 

Gwen knew what Natalie was referring to, but chose to evade. "I'm not sure what you mean?" 

"Well, I'm the one who's always suggesting we get off together. You told me the reason you let your old boss do what she did was because you felt like you had to. Do you feel like you have to with me? I mean, I don't want to take advantage of you...you can say no, you know. I won't be upset or stop being your friend."

Gwen rolled to her side to face her sister. "No, it's not that..." the Lady urged her to not admit her weakness. "My conscience still has a hard time with it sometimes, and I feel a little guilty...but it's easier for me when it's you start things, if I can tell myself it wasn't my idea. I'm sorry, that's probably not fair, is it?" 

Natalie smiled. "Don't worry about it. I think I'm beginning to understand you better. Just remember you can always ask for some help if you need to scratch an itch, and you can always tell me no if you don't want help, or want to help me. You know that, right?" Gwen nodded. "Good. So, did the shopping and the photos make you as horny as it made me?" Another nod. "Wanna do something about it?" Natalie flipped back the covers and reached for the hem of her bedmate's nightshirt. "Get rid of that ridiculous thing. Get naked." 

Gwen rose enough to allow the shirt to be pulled over her head and casually tossed to the floor. She expected her underwear to follow, but Natalie had other ideas and bent to kiss the woman beside her while her hand lazily smoothed the skin of her stomach. Gwen reciprocated, stroking her sister's side, the feel of her smooth skin electrifying, venturing down her backside to the split of her buttocks before retreating. 

Natalie's lips moved to her neck while the hand continued further down, hesitating briefly at the waistband of her panties, then sliding underneath. A finger traced a line down her labial lips without pushing in, softly petting her opening before retracing its path back up. 

The hand was removed from her underwear and Gwen lost contact with the body she had been caressing as her sister got to her knees. Fingers deftly hooked into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her legs to be discarded somewhere in the general direction of her shirt. Natalie lay back down, her body cradling Gwen's as her fingers made their way back to an expectant vulva. Soft lips kissed their way up and around her breasts until they captured her nipple, a tongue gently teasing and tickling. 

Gwen's hand returned to her sister's body, this time to gently cup her right breast. The flesh was beautifully soft and yielding, and it was with some reluctance that her hand finally left the erect nipple, traveling further down to mimic Natalie's efforts. Her sister-in-law's legs opened in lewd invitation to the approaching fingers. 

Gwen's imagination recalled the mental map her brain had drawn of Miss Ritter's sex many years ago—fingers slid through the small wiry patch of hair and on to bare skin that hinted of the stubble on Tim's cheek shortly after he had shaved. And then the topography changed, the high puffy mound, more yielding and spongy under her touch than her old boss's had been, descended into a furrow under her index finger, the ridgelines guiding her along delicate, loose flesh until it gave way to Natalie's opening. Gwen's finger came back up the valley, pushing down past the folds into the wetness below, until it came upon the solid outcropping of her sister's clitoris. She was sure it was just her imagination, but Natalie's sex seemed so much more warm and inviting than Miss Ritter's ever had. Gwen's own excitement swelled with the feel of the slick folds, of the protrusion under her fingertip.

"Yessss," the woman hissed, hips twitching involuntarily at the tingling of her nerve endings, her own finger reflexively driving into Gwen. Each woman's climb to orgasm kept pace with the other, both doing their best to help the other to a satisfying climax. 

Natalie rolled on to all fours with a groan, her right knee firmly pressed against the crotch her hand had just vacated, her own legs spread to invite continued exploration. Large breasts dangled tantalizingly before Gwen and she impulsively pushed one towards her lips so that she might kiss the nipple that capped it. 

Gwen exploded first, her hips grinding against the firmness between her legs. She was careful not to clamp down too tightly on the tender flesh between her lips, dimly aware that the opening her finger was now thrusting into had begun to grip the intruder and spasm rhythmically. Natalie managed to hold her own pose above the body below her, a soft 'oh' escaping her lips in deference to the thin walls of the bedroom. The strength of the climax finally overcame her strength and she collapsed to the side, Gwen's finger still inside of her. Their lips met as each floated back into reality. 

Gwen finally opened her eyes to find Natalie looking back at her in the gloom, a serene look on her face. Her sister reached up and knocked twice on the wall behind the bed. 

"Why did you do that?" 

Natalie chuckled. "Liz wanted to know when we finished." 

Gwen received a kiss on the cheek while her sister's arm lay casually draped across her midsection. "I don't know about you, but a good orgasm is better than any over-the-counter sleeping pill. Sleep well—kick me if I steal the covers."

"G'night." Gwen lay there, wondering what proper etiquette was in this situation. Should she get dressed? Was she expected to return the cuddle? She lay there, staring at the ceiling, eventually guiltily agreeing with the Slut's suggestion to initiate some sort of physical contact with the woman she had just shared an orgasm with. Gwen rolled to her side and gently pushed her body into the one behind her. With a contented groan, Natalie worked her own body into Gwen while her arm pulled them closer together. Gwen drifted off to sleep a few moments after a single knock came from the other side of the wall.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 16



This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.

*****

If Natalie felt any regret over what had happened the night before, she did not show it the next morning, hopping out of bed and throwing on some clothes before making her way to the bathroom for a shower. 

The Lady had summoned the dark specter of guilt within Gwen, however. She had finally sunk to a new low and really, truly slept with someone other than her husband, a woman—her sister no less! The Slut's reminders that it really had been no different than the other times and that Tim was obviously alright with it still did not completely ease her mind. 

They were on the road after breakfast. The SUV was silent for several miles save for the hum of the tires before Gwen felt the need to distract herself from the Lady's harping. "It sounded like Dorothy—from the store...had met you before?" 

Natalie smiled. "I was a model for one of Cho's naughty nightie parties a couple of years back. Dorothy was handling the back room for her, getting the models ready, that kind of thing."

Gwen nodded. "She's not the kind of person I would expect to be working there. She's..."

"Mrs. Santa Claus? Somebody's Grandma? Old?" Gwen nodded again, blushing. "She'd be sixty-six or seven, I think. Been working there since her husband died a few years ago. She told me she wanted to keep busy and needed something more exciting than her bible study group." 

"I can't believe she's...you know, working with those kinds of things. She seems so knowledgeable! And it sounds like she's still having sex-at her age!"

Natalie laughed. "I'm sure she takes product testing very seriously. Your clit doesn't shrivel up after menopause, so why not keeping using all the good parts?" 

"But with who?"

The little blue pills work wonders with gentlemen whose good parts need a little help standing at attention, and there's more than a few younger men who enjoy the company of more experienced ladies..."

"I just can't believe that she's still active at her age!"

Her sister continued to watch the road. "Your parents are about her age. Ever think maybe they're still doing it?"

Gwen turned to the woman next to her, shock on her face. "My parents? Oh heavens, no! I'm sure they are both well beyond that!"

Natalie smiled but said nothing. She doubted Irene Curran had ever allowed anyone between her legs for any purpose other than advancing the family bloodline, but she knew her father was a different story. 

It was those assholes in Las Vegas that had let it slip about the law firm's clandestine "pussy for pay, ass for advancement" program, and that Norman Curran was a willing participant. It was also made clear how pissed at him the other partners were for making them look bad by actually fulfilling his end of the bargains rather than using, then getting rid of, those hopeful corporate ladder climbers. Natalie had checked with her own inside contacts at the firm before confronting Adam with the revelation. He had both confirmed the existence of the informal program and denied his own involvement with it (something her contacts had also attested to). One of the paralegals had even intimated that Irene Curran was involved in the selection of her husband's enrollees, ensuring they showed proper loyalty, obedience, and above all, discretion before they were selected for participation. 

"Parents have sex too," Natalie reminded her passenger. "I do. You do." She paused, eyes still on the road as she broke into a grin. "My parents do."

"How do you know that? Did they tell you?"

"I walked in on them a little while back."

Gwen turned again to the driver. "Oh my God. You did not!" Natalie continued to grin and slowly nodded her head. "When?"

"Oh, about three years ago. Adam and I took the kids over to see Gram and Puppa for a long weekend. My father must have not had his hearing aids in when I called to tell him we were coming, because it turned out they weren't expecting us until the next day. We pulled in the driveway and there's usually at least one of them waiting on the porch for us, but I didn't see anyone, so I went in through the kitchen to make sure everything was okay while Adam and the kids unpacked the car. I walk into the living room and there's was my father, lying bare-ass-naked on the couch and my naked mother sitting on his face with his junk in her hand. Mom saw me first and let out a little scream, then jumped off him and ran down the hallway towards their bedroom. Dad looked around with a really confused look on his face, trying to figure out what was going on—I don't think it helped that he didn't have his glasses on—and then he took off down the hallway too." 

"Oh my God, Natalie," Gwen repeated. "I'd die if I walked in on that. What did you do?" 

Her sister laughed at her passenger's reaction as well as the absurd idea of Irene Curran ever consenting to such an undignified act in the first place. That's what the hired help was for... "I went back out through the kitchen to keep the kids out and give my parents time to make themselves presentable. Neither one of them would make eye contact with me for the rest of the day."

"You must have been mortified."

"Nah, I was fine with it. I was glad they were still gettin' busy—good sign of good health, you know? But I wasn't going to be the one to bring it up."

"Did they ever say anything?" 

"Mom tried to blame it on Dad the next morning when were alone in the kitchen. She said something like 'I was just making lunch and your father started getting fresh and wouldn't take no for an answer.' I don't think she appreciated it when I told her that the chances of an accidental pregnancy in that position were low, but that she had to be careful not to fall off and break a hip. Then a while after that, my father, in classic Dad fashion, cornered me, puffed himself up and announced that 'they're married and it's his house and it's nobody's goddamn business what they do under their own roof.' I couldn't argue with that, and none of us have spoken a word about it since, although they do triple-check the dates we're coming over now." 

The SUV fell silent again, Gwen silently empathizing with Natalie's parents over their misfortune, knowing how embarrassed she would be if her own children ever caught her and Tim in the act. What would be worse, she wondered, them catching us, or us catching them? 

Natalie broke the silence some miles later. "Any bets on how long it takes Adam to ask to see the pictures?" 

Gwen turned to her sister. She had not really considered the idea that her brother knew about them, but that was silly. He must know. "Are you going to show him? Is Liz alright with it?" 

Natalie laughed. "I'm the one in the less-than-flattering positions. They'll probably end up giving him ideas. But yeah, she's okay with it. It's been a long time since he's seen her naked—I mean, like before we got married—but I made it part of the deal before I agreed to pose. Adam's been asking to see me and her together ever since her divorce, when we started fooling around again, but she's not real excited about being live-sex-show stroke material for a guy, even a man she thinks is not as much of an asshole as the average male member of the species."

"So Adam really does like the idea of you and her...doing that?" 

"Oh, yeah. Every time we get together I tell him about it while I get laid in a very enthusiastic manner. Something about girl-on-girl action drives a lot of guys wild. It's like they're hard-wired for it. I guess it's even kinkier for him if one of the girls is your wife. I wonder if he'll connect the dots when I tell him me and Liz didn't share a bed last night..." 

Gwen pondered the moral morass Natalie seemed to be implying. She felt no sexual attraction whatsoever for Adam,-he was attractive, certainly, but he was her brother first and foremost. But he was a man, and her mother's teachings as well as the lessons of the past few months only strengthened the belief that the thing between their legs seemed to be able to overcome any conventional way of thinking standing between it and a good time. The fact that Tim found the idea of sex between his wife and his sister arousing was just another perverted example. She knew Natalie had said Adam didn't want to hear any of the details of their afternoons together, but how would he feel when his expected retelling of Natalie's and Liz's tryst was pre-empted by another? 

Tim waved from the open shop bay as the SUV rumbled past up the driveway, ambling over to greet the two women. He opened the passenger door to let Gwen out as the women said their goodbyes.

"Thanks for taking her," he said to the driver through the still-open door. 

"Don't mention it. I like it when she comes," she said with a smile as Gwen collected her things. "You two have fun. Gwen, I'll talk to you soon. And don't forget, no ride for me this Friday—I'm taking Annie to her doctor's appointment. It's her day to be in the stirrups." Her brother got the reference and blushed through his tan.

***

Tim seemed intent on finishing his chores before dinner that afternoon, the Lady relieved he was not inquiring as to the potentially sordid details of his wife's overnight stay. The Slut was disappointed he was not showing more interest in her activities and suggested they start the ball rolling by detailing the sleeping arrangements, but the Lady's insistence on not inviting certain trouble seemed a safer path at the moment. It made for a strange afternoon for her, the mundane repetition of their weekend chores a jarring contrast to the previous twenty-four hours. 

It was not until they were getting ready for bed that her husband made his first tentative inquiries as to the details of her weekend. 

"So, uhh, what did you get her?" 

Gwen paused her own disrobing, trying to decide whether a straight answer was the best. "The same things I have," she said finally.

Tim smiled. "Well, if you like yours, then I'm sure she'll like hers, too. So what made you decide to get her those? Don't get me wrong, it's a nice thing to do, but it's a helluva "cheer you up" kind of gift...aren't plants or books more common?"

"Her husband threw hers away, and I got the impression she wanted another one, and Natalie gave me some, so I thought it might be nice if I did the same," Gwen explained as matter-of-factly as she could. "Tim, the things I have—it doesn't upset you that I have them, right?"

He laughed. "Hell no, you know that. Why, do I act like I'm mad?" 

She hugged the naked man in front of her. "No, it's just that Cricket's husband obviously didn't like her having one, and I wondered if it might bother you too, but you're just too nice to say it." 

"It sounds like Cricket's husband didn't like a lot of things." He held her close, Gwen's head on his shoulder. "So, uh, did you get anything for yourself?" he rumbled after nervously clearing his throat.

She hugged him tightly, pressing herself into his crotch. "No, I think I have all I need here." 

"They sell lingerie, right? Did you look at any of that, maybe try something on?" 

"No...do you think I need some? I thought you liked me without clothes on?"

"Oh, I love seeing you naked," he hurriedly replied, "but I gotta admit, those things you wore in the pictures and at the Inn were hot. Really hot. And I loved takin' 'em off you, like I was unwrapping a present." Gwen glanced up in time to see an embarrassed smile. "If I'd known you were wearing that at the restaurant, I might have had you for dessert in the parking lot. It'd be, uhh, kinda fun knowing you were wearing something like that under your regular clothes sometime. Kinda like a signal you're horny. Like a little tease for later." 

"Really? You'd like that? To be teased?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do, as long as I get the good stuff in the end." He squeezed her rear for emphasis and decided to push his luck a little. "I know you think I'm a nice guy, but would you still think that if I told you that last night I was thinking about what it would be like if I was watching you and Natalie use your toys together?" The motivation for both of his orgasms last night and this morning had actually been split between thoughts of her with Natalie as well as Gwen showing Cricket how to use her gifts, but he knew mentioning Natalie was dangerous enough- the young rider was way out of bounds and likely to cause suspicion. 

Gwen finally looked up at her husband and kissed him. "Well, I doubt I'd be able to arrange that, but would it be alright if you watch just me use mine?" His expression told her it certainly was. "Which ones would you like me to use?"

She broke the embrace and moved to her nightstand, pausing to shed her bra and panties. A quick glance back confirmed her husband's penis was twitching in steady beats as blood surged into his shaft in anticipation. 

"Uh the big one—the one with the tennis ball thing on the end, I mean, and maybe the smaller one? Or maybe, umm, one of the, you know, the dildos, instead." 

Gwen pulled everything from the drawer and laid them carefully on the nightstand, pausing to plug in the Magic Wand before lying back on the bed. A wave of modesty swept over her, and she was unsure how to start. Don't be a nitwit, the Slut scolded, it's your husband, and it's not like you haven't given him a show before. Do it just like when you're alone. Play with your tits and open your goddamn legs-use your fingers until you're ready for the vibrator!

Gwen did as her perverted alter ego commanded, closing her eyes to focus on her pleasure, her dreams of being on display for others producing images of others in the room. The dream continued to poke into her consciousness and expand, the men around her bed now competing with each other to be the first to display the physical proof of their ultimate appreciation and approval. 

You are cheating on your husband right in front of him! The Lady cried in response to her fantasy, and Gwen opened her eyes to risk a peek towards him. An irrational fear gripped her, that Tim somehow knew what she was imagining, that he was just one of many using her for their pleasure. He would certainly find the idea of his wife, the mother of his children, at the center of a self-pleasure orgy distasteful or revolting. There was no look of disgust on his face though, just fascination. Her husband stood there, hands by his side, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to the finger gently spreading moisture between her lips. His twitching cock made it clear he was not offended in the least. 

"You can touch yourself, too, if you want." 

"Oh, uh, yeah," he said, as if he had forgotten that was an option. He accepted the invitation, grasping his length and stroking while Gwen found the Magic Wand and again closed her eyes. The tool rumbled to life with a flip of the switch, the thrum barely changing in intensity as it was delicately applied to one nipple, then the other. She shivered from the contact and languidly rubbed her fingers over the erect tips of her breast to soothe the buzzing sensation. The wand was next applied to her clitoris with the same gentle touch, held in place this time, rocking back and forth slightly to excite as many nerve endings as possible. The hum of the instrument strained then relaxed as it was pushed in hard, then released. The forbidden fantasy narrowed to the naked body standing at the end of the bed.

Gwen again risked a look, anxious to see at least one man's physical expression of his lust for her. Tim's attention was still between his wife's legs, his left hand now cradling his sack while the right slowly stroked his engorged length. She found a dildo—the shorter, fatter one—and looked for her husband's reaction as she slipped the length into her sex. He groaned in appreciation, and she closed her eyes to again focus on her building climax.

The cudgel pushed forward and withdrew several times, Gwen reveling in the sensation of being full, of being stretched ever so slightly, understanding Dorothy's preference for "beer cans". Something was missing though, something she desired even more. She pulled the rubber penis from her opening, rolled over to place it back on the nightstand, then stayed on her side. Tim was disappointed at the sudden end of this part of the performance and wondered if she had come. It didn't look like she had, and the vibrator was still hard at work on her pussy...

Gwen patted the bed behind her. "Tim," she said in a low, distracted voice, eyes still closed, "lie down. Hold me." He quickly complied, taking her in his free arm, his cock nestled between her ass cheeks. He held still, wondering if holding meant just that, or he was supposed to do more.

Gwen's free hand reached between her legs for her husband's length. Tim brought his hips back far enough to allow her access, and she pet it from his warm balls to the wet head a couple of times before levering it down. His hips instinctively knew what it was being pointed at drove forward unbidden, the mushroom head bouncing off the crinkled muscle of her anus and sliding forward. Not there, not this time, she thought in her pre-orgasmic haze, doubting such a tiny opening could ever be made to accept such a large thing. Her fingers continued to push down as he pushed forward, sliding him towards her intended destination. 

Tim felt the tip of his cock catch the edge of her hole and then bump past, the angle too severe to allow proper entry. The spongy helmet did not stop its forward progress until it made contact with the madly buzzing head of the Wand, his hips jerking back in surprise. Both bodies moved to correct the problem, and his second thrust caught the front of her opening then slid up and in. Tim could feel the vibrator at work through the front wall of Gwen's pussy, a muted yet pleasant sensation as he began to slowly work in and out of her.

"Harder." 

Tim picked his head up off the pillow, unsure he had correctly heard the whisper that had come from between her gritted teeth. "Huh?"

"Harder," she repeated, still in a whisper, managing to unclench her jaw. "Harder." 

His brain, long accustomed to his wife's restrained manner, was unsure just how hard "harder" really meant. His hips and cock had no such doubts and slammed forward with as much strength as could be mustered, jolting the tiny woman forward with enough force to push an involuntary grunt past her lips. Tim's brain regained control long enough to slow his cock's withdrawal, waiting for any potential negative response. There was none, and his hips were given the all clear for another drop of the pile driver, another soft 'uh' the sign it was well-delivered. 

Each subsequent thrust was delivered with the same slow pull back and violent push forward. Nothing escaped her lips after one such invasion, her breath stopping , the vibrator growling angrily as it was mashed into her clitoris. Tim held position deep inside her, feeling the tight sheath surrounding his cock spasm as the rest of her body stiffened almost painfully. 

She finally went limp; the vibrator switched off with some difficulty and dropped while she lay impaled on her husband. Gwen took a deep breath, exhaled and turned her head to catch a glimpse of the man behind her. "Do you need more time? Or maybe I can help you get closer?"




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 16



"Uh-uh."

"Do you think you can finish like this? I'm sorry, I'm not sure I can move very much right now."

The hand on her waist pulled her back to him. "Uh-huh. Don't worry, I'll take it from here."

The pounding she took was not quite so pronounced this time, only because the accelerated tempo his body demanded would not allow it. With a throaty growl, Tim buried himself deeply inside her and came.

He let out his own loud exhalation and relaxed. Gwen smiled chuckled, working herself farther back into the warm male body behind her. "I'm probably going to be sore in the morning. I don't think I've been sore since our wedding night."

"I'm sorry," he quickly answered, "I guess I got carried away."

"Don't be. I asked for it. Sometimes I like it when you, well, you know, take charge and use my body. Ravage me. It's very manly."

"Huh. Good to know. Guess we both learned something about each other tonight." 

Neither moved for some time, Gwen ignoring the Lady's complaints that any leaks would likely stain the mattress cover while the Slut countered that these could be looked upon as marks of accomplishment. She contemplated the irony of being curled up against the body behind her, the same position she had been in twenty four hours before at this time. There was guilt with the realization, but a sort of awakening, as well. She had been initially very suspect of Natalie's views regarding what friends could be for each other; but she was beginning to understand the benefits of what this kind of friendship could provide—a sense of companionship between women that only they could fully understand. The physical aspect took a little more getting used to, but it was beginning to make sense as well, that perhaps it was not cheating but sharing. She loved Natalie, but the love she felt for the man softly snoring behind her was different, very real, and very, very strong—unshakeable. She hugged the arm draped just below her breasts, grateful for everything he was, for being a man, a good man, unable to imagine life without him. It was not just from the way he had treated this—thing-with Natalie, but everything he had been to her—and for her—since that day they met. She now knew that what she had called "proper and level-headed" all those years had really been cold and imperious, a slightly more-open version of her mother, and still Tim had stuck by her, always been there for her and her children. She owed him big for all of those years wasted like that. Ali and KD, too. 

Gwen fell asleep that way, secure under her husband's arm as his penis softened and slipped from her, unconcerned about wet sheets or the need to pick up her toys. 

***

True to her prediction, Gwen was indeed tender down there the next morning. Apparently hours spent in the saddle had not been sufficient preparation for the different kind of riding she had asked for and received. It was a good sore though, a pleasant reminder throughout the day of her pleasure the night before. And true to the Slut's words, the dried splotch on the flat sheet and the cover below was a perverse source of pride.

The ache had subsided and the sheets had been changed by the time Tim called to ask her to run a part down into town for Cliff and Mike on Tuesday afternoon. She was happy to oblige, anxious to get away from the paperwork that never seemed to stop now. Things were getting busier and busier, and she knew things would only get worse should Andrew pass his test next week and be given his own truck. Although she was disappointed Natalie would not be over on Friday, she knew that time in the office would be wells-spent trying to get ahead of the flood. 

Gwen made note of the mall as she drove past, reviewing her mental list for anything she might need there since she was in the area. No necessities came to mind, but Tim's request Sunday night did. Maybe something nice...for him...She thought about waiting for a day where Natalie might be able to come along and advise, but decided against it. What she wanted to do was a perfectly normal thing for a wife to do for her husband, no need for moral support. 

She was formulating a plan even as she dropped off the needed part. First, a trip to Crandall's. She wouldn't dare any of this while wearing something so identifiable as a Nelson Plumbing shirt; she needed something else. It did not take her long to find something conservative and non-descript on a bargain rack in the women's section and hurried back out to the truck with her purchase. Gwen scanned the parking lot nervously from the cab of her high-sitting 4-wheel drive, looking for anyone who might be nearby. Satisfied, she hurriedly undid the buttons of her work shirt and stripped it off. The bras Tim had jokingly referred to as armor had been relegated to the back of her underwear drawer, but the one she wore was still enough to not reveal too much in a public parking lot in broad daylight. The new shirt was quickly slipped on, fastened, and pushed down into her slacks. Satisfied, she re-entered the mall for second part of her adventure. 

Gwen was amused by the fact that the colder the weather got the skimpier the bathing suits in Brazil's store window seemed to be. Natalie had dragged her here to buy her bikinis; she had come back once since then for underwear that better suited her changing tastes. It was the lingerie section she was headed for this time, only briefly scanning their limited selection of modest swimwear as a ruse to her true intent—she and Tim knew a lot of people in this town, including some country club gossips who might tell Natalie Curran what store her daughter Gwen had been seen in. The store was empty at the moment; satisfying the Lady while frustrating her counterpart. No one to see her, but no one to show off for, either. 

Now what? The corset had been inspired by the vision of the Slut. What would Tim find appealing? How about that silky tap pants and top on the mannequin torso over there? Nice, but perhaps a bit too tame. She wanted something to make him want her enough to take her the way he had the other night. 

"Can I help you find something in particular?"

She startled and turned at the sound of the young voice to her right. A young blonde girl, a head taller than Gwen with long legs and a runner's torso stood there, eagerly looking at her. She's no more than eighteen or nineteen, she guessed.

"Umm, no thank you. Well, maybe. I'm looking for something, I'm just not sure what." Gwen hesitated, unsure how to explain to this girl younger than her daughters that she was looking for something to put her husband in the mood. 

"Something for sleeping in, or something for before sleeping—for somebody special?" the girl asked with an inquiring smile.

"Somebody special," Gwen admitted. "My husband.," she added, "something he might like."

The young woman—Melody, she noted, finally looking at her name badge—smiled knowingly. "I get it. Does he prefer elegant, or, you know, something naughtier?" 

"Both Elegant and naughty might be nice," Gwen replied. "I'm sorry, I don't have much experience with this type of thing." 

"I get it," Melody repeated. "Well, with a body like yours, there are plenty of choices. Do you think he'd like soft and flowing without too much fabric, or something more form fitting without too much fabric?"

"Uhh, form fitting?" she guessed. It might be easier to wear under her regular clothes.

"Maybe a teddy then? A corset might be what you're looking for, as well."

"A teddy might be nice."

"Then let's start there. A must-have for any woman's lingerie collection!" 

How would you know about that, Gwen thought as the girl started looking through the racks. You must be fresh out of High School! The Slut made note of the t-shirt the young woman wore emblazoned with the name of the local community college. Past high school, she opined. Has to be a freshman, the Lady countered, clearly of the opinion she was still too young to be working at a place like this. 

"I'm guessing on the size," she said turning and handing the older woman a hanger from which a lacy piece of fabric dangled. "But try a few on, and let's see what you like. With a teddy, the tighter the better," Melody said as she shuffled through the racks, selecting a few and handing them to Gwen. "'I'm also guessing on the colors—how am I doing?"

"Fine," the older woman replied, somewhat surprised with the casualness of it all. 

"Nice! You seem like someone who prefers more muted and understated than flashy and vibrant. Why don't' you start with those, and we can see what might work better?" Melody motioned to the back of the store towards the fitting rooms. 

"Uhh, sure." Gwen followed her direction, pushing past racks of dressing gowns and robes. The young woman stopped at the entrance to the hallway, letting her customer continue on to the first stall on the left. She resisted a brief impulse to perhaps leave the door open just a touch , the Lady counseling common sense, pointing out it was just she and Melody in the store anyways. Gwen hung her items and began to undress. 

She tried on the first item and found it a little loose and not much more revealing than the one-piece bathing suits she had worn for years. It was discarded as an unsuitable candidate and the next was selected. 

It was better, less fabric and more lace, but it still didn't seem enough. On to the next. 

This is more like it, Gwen thought. High cut, lacy enough to hint at what was underneath while artfully concealing the most intimate parts of her body. It seemed just a little—

"Any possibilities yet, ma'am?" 

Gwen started at the sound of the of the young woman's voice. "Umm, I like this one, but I'm worried it might be a little...loose?" 

"I can tell you what I think, if you don't mind me lookin'." 

Gwen hesitated, then opened the door and moved into the narrow hallway. Melody was standing close by, a little surprised that this woman had stepped into the more public space rather than just opening the door to leave her some privacy. She quickly recovered. "Yeah, a little too loose. You want 'em form-fitting for best effect. If you want to take that one off and toss it to me, I can see if I can find it in the next size down. Oh, and by the way, thank you for keeping your panties on. I forget to remind the customers to do that when trying on the merchandise So, do you have any others you like so far?" 

"I have one more to try on." 

"Okay, try that while I go see what else we might have."

She retreated back into the stall, closing the door behind her, removing the garment and laying it over the door for Melody to take. 

Gwen pulled the last teddy up her body, slinging the delicate straps over her shoulders. The maroon garment was cut deeply in both the front and back, diving between the little bit of cleavage down to her navel on one side and the base of her spine on the other . The hips were cut very high, and the lacy fabric molded to her like a second skin. This had possibilities. 

Melody?"

Yes ma'am?"

"How does this look?" Gwen stepped back into the corridor.

The young clerk broke into a smile. "Perfect! That looks beautiful on you! Do you like the color?"

"I do. I think you guessed very well."

The teenager beamed. "Great! I brought you back that first one in a little smaller size. I also thought this might fit for elegant." The young blonde handed her what appeared to be a very short gown, the edges hemmed in a soft white ribbon, the fabric itself nearly see-through. 

"Thank you." Gwen retreated, closing the door behind her. The teddy was tried on, better fitting than the first one, but the maroon one was still her preference. She stripped it off and reached for the wispy gown. Gwen slipped it on and admired it in the mirror before her. It softened rather than obscured her body from shoulders to where it ended just below her hips, her areolae opaque yet still visible under the fabric, just as the contours of her breasts were. She liked the effect it had on her figure, but something was just not quite right...she slipped the underwear down her legs and stepped out of them. Her pubic mound appeared in the same haze her nipples lay under, and a turn showed the cleft between her buttocks, softened by the fabric and yet still visible. 

"How do they look?" Melody called from outside the door. "Can I get you something else to try on?" Gwen face was masked with a look of concern as she opened the door and stepped out. The teenager's eyes grew wide and she nervously looked over her shoulder for other customers. 

"What do you think? Too much? It's very see through..." 

"I think it looks great on you," Melody stammered. "You certainly have the body for it. You could wear that over the teddy—or without it," she hurriedly added, "either way, I think your husband would love it."

"I really like it," Gwen said turning back and forth to look at herself in the mirror at the end of the hall, the wispy fabric twirling up with the motion to more clearly reveal her buttocks. "You have very good taste." She turned back to the young woman in time see her eyes travel up from where her rear end had been. "I'm sorry about the underwear, but I couldn't make up my mind with them on."

"Oh, that's okay," the teenager babbled. "It's not touchin' anywhere your, umm, panties would be, uhh, touching. Is there, uhh, anything else you'd like to try on?" 

No, I think the maroon teddy and this robe will do fine," Gwen said with a smile. 

"Sooo, is there anything else you would like to try on?" Melody repeated, her eyes flitting to the small tuft of hair barely concealed behind the filmy fabric. 

"No, let me get changed and I'll meet you up front."

The teenager seemed a little relieved. "Okay. If you want, I'll take these and ring them up while you're dressing." 

Gwen removed the diaphanous robe, leaving her completely naked, and handed it to the young lady. She turned and retrieved the teddy from the stall and gave it to her as well, not bothering to close the door as she began to dress. Melody stayed long after she had collected the garments, only heading up front once Gwen's bra clasp had been fastened.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 17



This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Gwen hurried from the mall after her purchase. She was fortunate to have been carrying enough cash to pay for the teddy and the robe; the Lady had stopped her as she had reached for her credit card with an angry reminder that the name on it would identify her as the deviant who had put on the lewd display in the dressing room. That poor, young, innocent clerk, she nattered. You probably scarred her for life.

She works in a lingerie shop and volunteered to take a look-see, the Slut countered. And if she's so innocent, why is she putting on shows for her boyfriend? Gwen managed to push their bickering aside and enjoy the adrenaline rush of her dressing room escapades and purchase. She arrived home shortly before the first truck did, with just enough time to stash the bag in KD's closet. 

The trucks came back, were unloaded and the employees left. Gwen had dinner waiting for her husband, and they climbed the hill afterwards for a short soak in the hot tub. They had worn robes out into the cool evening air, more for comfort than modesty, and enjoyed the spa as they had come to use the pool—gloriously naked. The couple did not bother to dress again after they had returned to the house for a little TV, and fell asleep that night in each other's arms. 

The Slut chided her the next morning for not taking her bull by the balls the night before and getting the sexual relief she had desired. Tim had not shown any apparent interest in a romantic interlude, Gwen's nudity in the spa and their bed not enough to get more than a twitch out of his flaccid length. He was tired, give the poor man a break from your sexual perversions, the Lady had advised, but the Slut was convinced that thing between his legs would have come to attention with just a few kisses. 

Too late now, Gwen sighed as she sorted invoices. Maybe he won't be so tired tonight. 

Or maybe he'll be exhausted, the Slut countered. Why take a chance? Take care of business now, and there's nothing that says you have to close the bank if he wants to make a deposit later. 

You've got work to do, the Lady warned even as Gwen rose from her desk and headed for the house. Maybe just a quick one, to hold me over until later, no different than a snack before dinner. 

She was standing naked by the bed a few moments later, amused by how casual the act of grabbing the two large penises and putting them within easy reach had become. Gwen had come a long way since the first time she had gingerly removed that menacing rubber log from its packaging. 

She lay down and let her hands travel up and down her body as sexual thoughts filled her mind. Images of men, naked men, came more easily to her without Tim watching her, and the now-familiar scenario of being on display for a group showing their appreciation played on in her imagination. 

Gwen's free hand made its way between her legs, a finger dipping into her opening to retrieve some moisture and spread it between her lips. She withdrew it and lightly caressed the skin below her opening, her rosebud so close. I never knew they even had toys designed for back there, she thought, taking a moment away from the show she was putting on for the collection of engorged penises in her fantasy. Dorothy had presented them so matter-of-factly. I guess some people must find it pleasurable...her finger pushed deeper, across the crinkled muscle. But I still don't see how it could relax enough to put anything up there. Natalie's finger was inside, the Slut reminded her, and it didn't hurt at all. That's true, Gwen agreed, remembering her shock at the invasion, but no pain or displeasure. Her finger did its best to center on the muscle in the hopes of testing its willingness to relax, but her weight against the mattress and the comforter below prevented easy access. Gwen raised her head from the pillow and looked about, instinctively checking for prying eyes. Satisfied, she rolled on to her stomach and got up on all fours, pointing her rear end towards the doorway and walking her knees away from each other. The naked woman reached a hand back between her spread legs and slid a finger up and across the skin now above her sex, into the widened gap between her buttocks and on to her rosebud. Gwen found the handstand she was doing annoying and gently lowered her shoulders until her head again lay nestled in the pillow. Her finger circled the muscle, teasing, tingling the nerve endings and daring the owner to push. Gwen accepted the challenge, trying to relax as she initially met resistance, then slid through up to her first knuckle. It felt much the same way Natalie's had, only nastier, and she was surprised just how tightly the ring gripped her finger as the little muscle reflexively tightened.

This would be a very bad time for Tim to walk in right now, the Lady drily observed, to find his wife's posterior high in the air with a finger in it. The Slut disagreed. I'd think he'd find that the ultimate invitation. 

It's not as unpleasant as I thought, Gwen reflected, feeling slightly ridiculous in her current pose but also feeling the stirrings of something else. On her back with her husband on top of her had always seemed like the proper way to make babies, but this sent a very different message. Presenting her bottom like this just seemed so primal, so...submissive. It was an unmistakable signal to her husband, or to any male, that she was ready and willing to be taken and used. She removed her finger and reached for the first dildo she could find. Big John, she guessed without looking as she grasped the cudgel, remembering what Dorothy had called it. It was gently placed between her lips and inserted with one slow push, her fantasy resuming with Tim behind her while the others enviously watched and stroked. 

She left the giant penis lodged deeply inside her and fumbled for the rabbit, bringing it to life and up between her legs. Gwen meant to apply it to her clitoris, but her sense of sexual exploration was high, and instead it continued on until the length lay nestled between her upturned cheeks. Common sense told her it was way too big to fit "in there", but the vibrations against the tight little ring certainly felt good, and the aroused woman found herself wishing she had taken the older woman's efforts to sell her something for back there more seriously. Gwen's free hand moved to the rabbit's original destination, and her finger gently circled the hard nub of her clitoris. 

The pose, the sense of submissive welcome for the cock inside her, the sensations on her clitoris and anus all combined to drive her to a powerful orgasm. She lay there on her side after, breathing heavily, the faux cock still lodged inside of her, the summoned guilt focused on her exceptionally perverted fascination with her anus.

Gwen's sexual tension was only temporarily relieved by her session with her toys, and by Thursday night knew Tim definitely needed to be involved for something a bit more fulfilling even after they had finished making love in their more traditional manner. Their routine when they awoke the next morning was unchanged from so many others before, Gwen sending her husband on ahead to the shop, promising to follow as soon as she took care of some nagging housekeeping. He smiled at his wife's need to leave no stone uncleaned and made his way across the yard still shrouded in the early morning gloom. She joined him twenty minutes later, Eric the only employee to have beaten her. 

Gwen made the rounds to each of the crews, giving them their scheduled for the day and a list of items they would likely need to pull from the storeroom. She delivered Tim's last. "Can you come up stairs and take a look at something before you leave?"

He smiled but didn't look up as he arranged some PVC on the back of his truck. "Yes ma'am, be right up." Mike did his best to hide his smile. Yes ma'am? Fuck was he pussywhipped. 

She was standing near her desk, facing the landing, when Tim trudged up the last few steps. He looked at her and smiled. "Whattya got for me?"

Gwen didn't answer, instead looking down and beginning to work the button closest to her nearly-closed collar. He looked on in amazement, instinctively glancing behind him to ensure no one else was climbing up behind him, turning back in time to see the smooth flesh of his wife's upper chest revealed. She continued down, more skin appearing where her bra should have been, glances of something dark red in color peeking from behind the sides of her shirt as she reached her belly button. Gwen opened one side of the shirt, then the other, flashing the lacy garment barely concealing her breasts. He stepped towards her. "For me?"

"For you after work," she said quietly, starting to re-button what she had just undone even as he reached for her.

"Aww, unfair," he complained good-naturedly, watching her skin disappear beneath the denim. 

"I thought you liked to be teased," Gwen asked in a low voice as her fingers worked quickly, worried that she had somehow offended him. 

"Well yeah, I do," he replied with a grin, "doesn't make it any easier when it's happening."

"You can have a better look when you get home. But right now we both have work to do."

"Hope I can concentrate," Tim replied taking her in his arms. "You gonna wear it all day?" 

"As long as you want me to. Now shoo. Have a good day." 

He kissed her. "It just got better and longer. It's like Christmas Eve."

The trucks left soon after, Gwen hurrying up to the barn to complete her morning chores there. The teddy quickly proved itself too restrictive for strenuous activities like mucking, feeding and laying down fresh bedding. Despite her promise to Tim, she considered making the trip down to the house to change into more comfortable undergarments for the day, at least until her husband was due to return. The barn coat hanging on a peg in the tack room caught her eye and suggested another possibility

Gwen quickly stripped down, carefully hanging her work clothes and lingerie in place of the jacket. Ears ever alert to the sound of vehicles in the driveway, she worked in the chill morning air wearing nothing but the old coat and a pair of muck boots, the jacket being removed as well as she began to warm from the physical labor. 

She returned to her slacks and shirt after finishing her chores and carried the teddy back to the office, knowing the morning parts deliveries would be arriving soon. Her lack of underwear and the idea of the cute young driver's reaction had he been let in on the secret made Gwen smile to herself as she signed for the packages. His truck was out of the driveway and she had called Alison before stripping down to nothing for the rest of the day. Her hand seemed to find its own way between her legs as she absentmindedly flipped through paperwork, and she only dressed shortly before the first truck returned. 

Tim returned home on time, business-like as usual with the crews while Gwen collected paperwork, said her goodnights, and made her way back to the house to start dinner. He followed along shortly after, even as Cliff was pulling out of the driveway. 

"How's dinner coming?" he asked, hugging her from behind and kissing her neck. 

"Just pulling things together now. "

His hand cupped her breast as his head again bent to her throat. "We're going to bed early tonight, right?"

Gwen smiled and tilted her head to allow him better access to her neck as she concentrated on the frying pan. "It certainly feels like we are. But would you like dinner first?"

"I gotta unwrap it before I eat it," he replied, running his hand down her midsection. "But I need a shower. I stink." 

"I like the smell of hard work. Go ahead, I'll get dinner ready so we can spend more time relaxing after."

She heard the sound of his steps in the hall a short time later. "Smells good, but it -"he turned the corner and stopped. Gwen was still at the counter, chopping yellow squash, but her shirt and slacks were gone and only the lacy maroon teddy remained. "Wow. Every man's dream. A beautiful woman in sexy underwear cooking dinner. Just need a beer to make this a Super Bowl commercial."

Gwen did not look up from her cutting board as she reached to her right, grabbed an open bottle, and handed it back to him. Her husband chuckled, moved behind her, and wrapped his free arm around her ribcage. "You've become full of surprises." 

She smiled and held the knife steady. "Dinner?"

"Later." The beer was placed back on the counter and he began to kiss her neck. One hand rested on her hip while the other, still cold from the bottle it had been holding, slid over the bare skin exposed between the two sides of the teddy and up to her lace-covered breast. His kisses moved lower, down her spine, making her shiver. "I've been wondering what you had on all day long," Tim murmured as he sank lower and kissed his way to where the sides of the garment joined to cover the cleft of her buttocks. He groaned a bit as he dropped to his knees, the kisses moving lower, to the exposed skin of first her right cheek, then her left. His lips moved lower, to where the curve of her bottom flowed into her firm thigh. The direction he was moving made Gwen put the knife down and hold the counter to steady herself as she spread her legs in anticipation of his expected route. 

His tongue snaked over the strip of skin between her leg and the lacy fabric running through her sex. The kisses reversed their course, Tim slowly rising as they traveled back up her spine. 

"It's beautiful," he murmured, his hardness pressed between her ass cheeks, only her teddy and his shorts between them. His index fingers gently hooked the straps of the negligee and pulled it off her shoulders, sliding the lace down until it met the flare of her hips. He cupped her now-exposed breasts while his lips returned to her neck. Callused palms grated deliciously over her erect nipples, then continued down her body, down to where the nightie lay bunched about her waist. The tight fabric offered some resistance to being lowered further, but Tim was persistent, working it until it slid free and dropped to her ankles. 

"Beautiful," he again murmured into her neck as a hand was planted on her mons and a finger began to push down through her valley. "Bedroom. Now."

Gwen turned off the stove and moved the pan to a cool burner as the finger between her legs worked itself deeper. She was a little surprised he was suggesting—no, ordering, the Slut preferred to believe—a move to a more private spot. The naked woman had been expecting and looking forward to being bent over the counter and taken right there, next to where the vegetables were still simmering. Being lain back on the kitchen table and spread wide had its possibilities, too...Gwen didn't move right away, enjoying the feel of the body being pressed into her.

"Bedroom," Tim said again, this time with a gentle thrust of his hips into her rear. She led the way, just knowing her husband's eyes were on her swinging buttocks, the perverse pride in being the center of his sexual attention swelling in her.

Gwen crawled onto the bed and lay back, watching Tim hurriedly strip down. She smiled as in his lust-fueled haste his erection got caught in the waistband of his shorts, levering it down like the arm on a slot machine until it broke free with an audible slap against the skin below his belly button. That part of the male anatomy certainly seemed better able to take some rough handling better than what hung beneath...

She began to roll to her side in expectation of him lying beside her as he put his knee on the edge of the bed. Tim wouldn't allow it, reaching out and grabbing her ankles to stop her motion and spread her open. He smiled and began to kiss his way up her calf, up her thigh, and she closed her eyes waiting for him to get to where she knew he was going. She was not disappointed, and the drag of his tongue against the soft folds of her flesh was electrifying. Despite the anticipation of his advance, her hips twitched at the first soft swirl around her clitoris. 

The contact was broken, and Gwen opened her eyes in surprise and worry. Was something wrong? She looked down between her legs, Tim grinning back at her. "You wouldn't believe how many nasty things went through my head today, knowin' you were struttin' around the office, wearin' that."

I was wearing less, Gwen was tempted to respond. "Like what?"

He hesitated a moment, deciding whether to pair action with confession. His stiff cock settled the debate. "Told ya I like to unwrap my food before I eat it." Tim rose to all fours and reversed direction, Gwen's face suddenly shaded by a thigh being brought over it, a pair of heavy testicles hanging just above her lips while her thighs were pulled even wider and stubbled cheeks nuzzled between them. His oral technique was coarser and less practiced than Natalie's, the tip of his nose rubbing against the skin between her two openings as he enthusiastically licked her, and she loved every moment of it. 

Gwen looked up at the novel view above her before delicately raising her head up enough to kiss the dangling sac and run her tongue over it. She could feel his testicles move beneath her probing. Male musk was beginning to work its way through the scent of the soap from his shower, and her cheeks warmed from the heat being generated between his legs. Her hand reached for the length poised above her throat and began to lightly scratch and stroke. 

The body above her rose slightly, taking the loose sac out of the reach of her tongue. Gwen wondered if it was a sign her efforts were not being well received. The twitch of his hips made her think that perhaps he was asking for something else, something the Slut said most definitely yes to, and she levered the staff she was holding down towards her lips. His penis seemed spring-loaded, resisting the more she brought it perpendicular to his body, and she was afraid of perhaps pulling it to too far, of breaking it, but the owner didn't seem to be complaining and his body again dropped a bit at the first hint of her pursed lips welcoming him in. 

Her own orgasm was building, the result of a full day of gentle self-teasing followed by the demonstration of her husband's obvious desire for her. The ravishing of her sex, and the position her husband was in to deliver it, only sped up the inevitable. Gwen did her best to not clamp down on the cock held in mid-stroke between her lips as the first waves broke. 

Her thighs clamped around the head between them, just as they had done to Natalie, as she rocked back and forth against the probing tongue. Natalie had just seemed to know what spots to hit during Gwen's orgasm; Tim was guessing, and to Gwen it was mildly frustrating and excruciatingly wonderful to be left guessing as well. She could teach him, she thought as her senses returned; that might be fun, if she could give ever bring herself to give those kinds of directions. 

The penis in her mouth began to slowly thrust again, and Gwen thought she could detect the stronger taste of his semen. She'd finish him like this, if that's what he wanted, and wondered if it would somehow be different in this position, with the sensitive underside of his tip pressed against the roof of her mouth. 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 17



The length withdrew from between her lips and the thigh brought back over. Tim moved up beside her and lay on his back, pulling Gwen on to him. "Ride me home." She straddled him, reaching for his staff to insert him while he pulled her face to his in a forceful kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, a pungent reminder of her orgasm, and remembered Miss Ritter as tasting stronger. Gwen wondered what Natalie might taste like...

Strong hands grasped her breasts and pushed her up into a proper riding position as soon as his manhood could be forced no deeper. Tim's hips drove her upward, reminding the equestrienne of being astride a freshly broken horse. She put her hands on his stomach to steady herself, where the reins would have been, while callused palms roughly fondled and squeezed her mounds. His eyes were shut tightly as his body took over to produce an intense orgasm. Tim's hands dropped to his wife's hips and pressed down against them as he drove himself up into her. "Coming—"he hissed through gritted teeth. 

***

"Alison's coming over tomorrow morning," Gwen said over her shoulder as she resumed dinner preparations. 

"Going riding?" Tim asked as he set the table. 

"For a little bit. We're going to have lunch and then go through the things in her room so she can decide what she wants to keep."

"Keep? What's that mean?"

"I decided to turn her bedroom into a proper guest room. No need for visitors to sleep in a horse and boy-band shrine."

Tim smiled. "So I guess that means you've given up hope she's ever coming back home?"

"Stop that! I never wanted her to come back home. She's happily married, there would be no reason for her to come back!

"Sorry, sorry, just teasin'," her husband offered, kissing her cheek. He knew Gwen spoke the truth—she had been the momma bird, prepared to kick her fledglings out of the nest the moment she thought they were ready to fly on their own. Ali had gone from home to college to an apartment to marriage, so had never really returned to her room other than the first couple of summers during school. "Gonna turn KD's room into one too?"

"KD's room stays the way it is until she's out of college and settled down," Gwen firmly declared. "When she doesn't need it any more, we can decide what to do with it then." 

Alison arrived shortly after breakfast the next morning, her mother and father coming out of the barn to greet her. "No Jason?" Tim asked, looking at the empty passenger seat.

"Getting new tires for his car, then this afternoon he's going to Mark's to watch football. He says hi." Mother and daughter made their way back up to the barn while Tim headed for the shop to get caught up on some needed repairs. He was gone when the women returned from their ride just before noon. 

"Emergency call," Gwen announced as she read the note on the kitchen table, "left about a half hour ago." 

"Mind if we eat real quick before we get started?" Ali asked, opening the refrigerator. "I didn't have breakfast." 

"No, of course not," Gwen replied. "Here, let me get it." 

"Sit down, I can do it," her daughter insisted as she reached for her purse and produced a tablet. "I got some pictures of Dancer's half-sister when I was in Huntsville on business last week. Wanna see?" Ali turned the device on and set it down in front of her mother. 

"You can see the family resemblance," Gwen offered as she scrolled through the pictures while the young woman worked at the counter preparing a sandwich. "Nice lines." She reached the end and began to swipe back to the beginning to view them again. One flick of her finger too many and she stopped on a picture of something decidedly not horseflesh. 

It was a young man's naked torso in profile, or rather, a reflection of a naked torso in what appeared to be a bathroom mirror. The picture had apparently been taken by the subject himself, the flash of the camera obscuring his face. He was fit, with a muscled chest and flat stomach. Gwen's focus was further down, however, on the impressive erection beneath. It was long, longer than Tim she guessed, although perhaps not as thick, with a pair of testicles drawn up tightly below. The subject's manhood was shaved smooth, like his chest and stomach, making the almost banana-like curve of his penis even more evident. The tip of the pink head peeked out from a dark collar of loose skin. 

"It sounds like she's got the same attitude as her sis—", Alison began, coming back to the table with her food. She struggled to put the plate on the table as she saw the photo her mother had stopped at. "OH MY GOD MOM! I'm so sorry," the young woman screamed as she grabbed for the device. "I forgot that was on there!" 

Be the cool mom, the Slut counseled, be the cool mom. "It's alright. You're a married woman. What you and Jason do is none of my business. It is Jason, right?"

"Yes, of course it's Jason," her blushing daughter wailed as she fumbled for the off switch. "He, he likes to send me pictures when he's traveling to uhh, show me how much he misses me." No need to tell her that he was only responding to the one I sent him first, Ali thought, hoping her mother had not scrolled any further back. 

"Well, it looked like he missed you very much. He's certainly, umm, healthy." 

"Yeah, he, uhh, certainly is," Alison agreed with a nervous laugh, unsure how else to reply. Gwen broke the awkward silence by getting up to make her lunch and turning the conversation back to the pictures she was supposed to have seen. 

They were sorting the contents of the bedroom a half hour later, identifying what would be put into storage for the young woman's future home or children, and what could be given or thrown away. Gwen sat on the bed watching her daughter go through the contents of her dresser. 

"He had a lot of extra skin." 

Alison stopped and turned to her mother. "Huh?"

It was Gwen's turn to blush as she looked down at the t-shirt she held. "Jason, uhh, looked like he had a lot of extra skin...on his...thing."

"He's uncircumcised, Mom. That's his foreskin. Haven't you ever seen an uncircumcised one?" 

"Well no, not all puffed up like that. I just thought those slid back when..." You are talking about foreskins with your own daughter, the Lady cried. Please stop!

"Some do, some others you have to help a little...Mom, how many 'puffed up ones' have you seen?"

Gwen decided she didn't need to count those times on the beach. "If you must know, your father is the only man I've ever been intimate with." True as stated, she thought uncomfortably.

"Really? Never a stable hand at the place you worked before you met Daddy, or a walk on the back nine after dark with someone from the country club?"

"Your father is the only man I've ever been with," her mother repeated. "Why? How many have you seen?"

Alison laughed and sat down next to her mother. "I went to a large university, remember? Co-Ed dorm for three years? You sure you really want to know?"

Oh God, the Lady huffed. No, we don't. Gwen smiled. "You seemed to turn out alright despite the co-ed dorms. Yes, I'd like to know."

Alison smiled weakly. "Well, I saw a bunch, but maybe four...up close and personal? That includes Jason," She quickly added, deciding to keep the number low and only admit to those she had actually allowed between her legs. There had been another five she had used her hands or mouth on to keep at bay while their owners were evaluated for the full experience. And don't forget Sean Hunsicker. She had actually gone to bed with him twice, ready to open the gates to the kingdom, but he had shown such a complete fascination with her smallish breasts that more traditional means of intercourse had been ignored and he had ended up titfucking her both times. Luckily Sean had a talented tongue and both parties ended up satisfied.

Gwen looked at her daughter. A short time ago she would have been appalled at her loose behavior, but now she was maybe a little...envious? "Is that a lot? I'm sorry, I don't know much about this kind of thing."

Alison shrugged. "Average, maybe a little below average, if I had to guess from what I saw in college. You're not mad, are you? Or disappointed?" 

"No, no, honey, I'm not mad and I'm certainly not disappointed," she said, patting her daughter's thigh. "As long as you were careful, and apparently you were, you sound like you were just being a normal young person. I just have a lot of learning to do still—I'm not very experienced with all this...sex stuff." 

Alison did her best to hide her shock. Never in a million years would she have imagined her mother would give the okay to premarital sex. "I give you a lot of credit for even talking about it—I can't believe I would ever be having this conversation with you. I think it's great you and Daddy are making each other happy that way—you are making each other happy, right?" 

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Yes Alison, he makes me very happy, and he hasn't complained." He didn't complain before you got all slutty either, the Lady grumbled. 

Her daughter grinned and hugged her shoulder. "Good! So I guess the pictures you had taken for him made him happy. Can I see them now?" 

"Alison Marie! No! Why on earth do want to see pictures of your own mother?" 

"Because if I'm really lucky I'll still look like you when I get older," she said shyly. "I'd kinda like to see what I might look like then, if Jason might still find me attractive that way." 

"Jason will always find you attractive. I mean, look at the picture he sent you!"

"Yeah, but he's still young. He gets that way a lot. I want to be able to inspire that kind of reaction when I'm older?"

"Stop that. Of course you will. You're a very pretty girl."

Alison bit her lip. "Aunt Natalie let me see hers..." 

Gwen raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "She showed you those?"

"Uh-huh, the ones she had taken for Uncle Adam. They were great, but I, umm, don't look like her. People say I look a lot like you, though."

The older woman relaxed a bit at the realization the pictures of Natalie were not the most recent set. She sat there for a moment, deep in thought. "Alison, are you sure you want to see them?" she finally asked wearily. "Personally I don't think they look like me—the photographer was very good. They're very risqué. And once you see them, you can't un-see them." 

"I'm sure. So does that mean you will?"

Gwen got up. "Wait here." She returned a moment later and handed the bound leather album to her daughter. "Last chance to say no." 

Alison grinned and pulled back the cover. She spent some time looking over the photos, occasionally looking up at the woman sitting next to her and grinning before again focusing on the album in her lap, an occasional 'wow' escaping her lips. 

The young woman finally reached the last photo. "Mom, those are stunning. Never in a million years would I have guessed you had it in you to do that. I still remember all the times you made me change before I left for school."

"You always wanted to wear such revealing outfits," Gwen protested, realizing now that they really hadn't been that bad after all. "You have to dress like a lady to be treated like one." 

Alison held up the album. "And if you dress like this you get treated even better," she retorted with a laugh. "Daddy was all over you, wasn't he?"

"Alison Marie! That is your father you are talking about and none of your business! And now may I put them away again?"

Her daughter pulled the photos back. "He was, wasn't he? Can I and bring them back after I show them to Jason? It might give him hope for the future." 

"You may not!" Gwen shrieked, reaching out for the album. "If he needs hope for the future because he doesn't know what he has right now, he's a fool and you're too good for him!" 

Alison laughed and let her mother grab the album from her hands. "Just kidding Mom, just kidding. They really are good, though. If those were of me I'd be making people look at them." 

"Some things are meant to remain private. I can't believe I showed them to you. And you better not tell Jason what you saw today—or what I saw, for that matter!" 

"Like nothing ever happened," Alison replied with mock seriousness. Jason already knew of the existence of his mother's boudoir photos, the knowledge combining with his memories of her vibrators to forever shatter his perception of Gwendolyn Nelson the prude. He knew of Natalie's too, and Alison had made it clear he wouldn't see either, but he still held out hope of a slip-up somewhere. He loved taking pictures of his own Nelson, and wanted some inspiration...

"Thanks for showing them to me," Alison continued on. "I'm really touched and flattered that you would trust me that much." 

Mother and daughter hugged. I didn't trust anybody until recently, Gwen thought. This is so much more dangerous.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 18



Thanks to all who continue to send feedback and critique, both positive and negative. Your opinions and ideas are seriously considered and evaluated, and I like to think a few have even given me an interesting look into the human psyche. In response to a couple of comments at the end of chapter 17 regarding the speed at which things happen or don't happen, you are absolutely correct—nothing in this story happens quickly. While the chapters come out over a lengthy period of real-life time (2 years plus and counting!), the passing of time in the story itself covers only a few months. 

I'm gratified to read that the characters seem to be very real-life and relatable. One of my own secret vices is to imagine the secret lives of the people I see and meet. Does that conservative-looking woman behind the cash register enjoy oral sex? Has she ever done it with a girlfriend? Despite some commenters' beliefs that this story is a complete drivel and an unrealistic representation of reality, I do try very hard not to test the reader's willful suspension of disbelief and keep it as close to what I consider "real-life" as possible, so I just can't make myself write Gwen opening up any faster than she already is. Sorry, but no complete transformation in two chapters here. Also, please view this story as a long-running TV show—I don't have an ending in mind—it will probably just keep going until the story "jumps the shark," I get bored, or people stop reading. If you need closure, please refer to the end of Part I and walk away there. 

Now for the standard disclaimers.

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Also, this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.

*****

"Warm day today," Natalie observed as she peeled off her shirt and jogbra after cinching Dancer's saddle. 

"Sure is," Gwen agreed as her sister's breasts bounced free from their containment. The region was in the midst of a mini-heat wave, conditions more like late summer than the middle of the fall. 

"Hey, got an idea," Natalie said over her shoulder as she hurried down to her car, returning with a rolled-up blanket. "It's such a beautiful day, let's hang out on the grass up at the picnic table for a while. Get a little sun before it gets too cold." 

Gwen strapped the bundle behind her own saddle before throwing a leg up and over Dart. She hesitated, listening for the sound of vehicles in the driveway, then stripped off her own shirt and bra. The bare-chested women trotted their mounts out of the barn together. 

They took their time up the hill, discussing plans for the fast approaching Thanksgiving holiday. Gwen lamented the fact that Alison and Jason would be at his family's for the holiday, and that Irene Curran was even more displeased with that arrangement. The air was still and warm when they reached the clearing. 

Natalie was already sitting on the bench of the picnic table, kicking off her boots and stripping down to bare skin while her fellow rider retrieved the blanket and checked the horses' tethers. Gwen was pleased this was the kind of sunning Natalie had intended and undressed quickly after nervously looking about for any passers-by, laying down on the blanket next to the naked woman. 

"Oh, this feels so good," Natalie said, lying back with eyes closed "Probably won't get to do this again until Adam and I go to the Turks and Caicos in February." 

Gwen eyes were shut tight against the sun's glare as well. "I would guess your bikinis are close enough to being like this." 

Natalie laughed. "My bikinis don't get used too much down there. Maybe the bottoms, if we stay by the pool. The resort has a nude beach—we're on that more often than not." 

Gwen raised herself on one elbow and shielded her eyes with the other hand to look at her sister. "Adam does, too?"

Natalie nodded. "Your brother didn't take much convincing to turn nudist. He's gotten to be a bit of a showoff, plus he gets some nice scenery."

"You don't mind if he looks at other women?"

Nah. They're just bodies. Some very well put-together bodies, but still... and I think he gets a kick out of guys looking at me." 

"Wait—don't you go down there with another couple?"

"Yup. The Wieglins."

"Do they know you go to the nude beach?"

"They go with us." There was a momentary silence before Natalie laughed again. "You know, I never thought I'd be saying this, but you and Tim should go with us some time." 

"Oh, we couldn't do that," Gwen demurred. 

"Why not? Tim's not shy, right?"

"I guess not, but...it wouldn't be right to be like that around my own brother."

Being naked on a beach in a foreign country is not an automatic gateway to sex. We're all adults; we all know girls have boobs and pussies and boys have dicks. Your brother's is particularly nice," Natalie teased, "but you don't have to look at it, much less touch it. Just don't get mad if I sneak a peek at Tim's."

"He'd probably be embarrassed if he caught you looking," Gwen protested, wondering about the truth of that statement. "Even if he did dare go out like that in public." You mean like he did at the beach at the lake, the Slut pointedly suggested. 

"You don't have to decide now. Just think about it, maybe talk to Tim. When was the last time you guys took a real vacation?"

"We took plenty this summer—we went to see KD at her summer job, and we went to the Inn for a night."

"Weekend getaways," her sister scoffed. "I mean like at least a week."

Gwen lay back as the conversation lapsed. The idea of a trip to an exotic locale to be completely exposed to strangers put a new perspective on old fantasies, and the growing warmth between her legs was not just from the sun...

"You still having those dreams?"

Gwen started out of her reverie and turned to look at her sister, dismissing an irrational fear her mind was being read. Natalie's legs were now bent at the knee and her hand absentmindedly moved in circles between them. "Hmm?"

"Those dreams you told me about the first time we went riding, remember? Still having 'em?"

Gwen closed her eyes to break the contact and shut the window into her thoughts, just in case. "Sometimes, I guess," she mumbled, lying back. "When I'm feeling a little...worked up." 

"You're taking care of yourself when you get "worked up", right? No problems with that?"

"Well, Tim's my first choice, obviously," Gwen hurried to explain, "but if he's too busy, then yes, I do." 

Natalie chuckled. "I gotta admit, when you told me what your dreams were about, I played it like they were no big deal because I wanted to look like the caring medical professional and sister, but I thought they were really hot! So. I put my own spin on 'em and used them a few times myself. Do you ever think about when you're getting off?" 

"Sometimes." No need to divulge that her dreams and masturbatory fuel had progressed from just being watched to being made available to the audience by the person forcing her into the situation. The fact that it was Natalie sometimes holding the crop and leash was most shameful of all. 

Gwen risked a look as her sister turned her head to stare at the sky before closing her eyes. The activity between her legs, still hidden behind a raised thigh, seemed to becoming more focused. "Being naked outside always makes me horny," the obviously masturbating woman sighed contentedly. 

Gwen again propped herself on an elbow and looked about nervously. Despite the remote location, they were so exposed...even if it was her property, she would have a very difficult time explaining the situation if they were discovered. 

"Would you like me to help you?" 

Natalie opened one eye, squinting against the sun. "I thought you'd never ask!" She rolled to her side to reach for the naked body beside her. The press of her sister's lips against her own surprised Gwen. They had kissed before, but still the act somehow always felt more intimate than the hand that now gently palmed her breast or even the finger or tongue she hoped would shortly be between her legs. The exquisite feel of soft lips against her own made stopping the taboo act unthinkable. 

Their hands glided across the sun-warmed skin of each other's bodies while Natalie's tongue tentatively probed. Gwen responded to the overtures, and the underlying senses of danger and perversion heightened her arousal as Natalie's finger boldly announced its arrival at her opening. Her own hand slid its way down between the other woman's legs in response, Natalie's hips reflexively pushing forward to bury the finger at the entrance to her opening and make contact with the palm at the top of her mound. So wet, Gwen thought, and so ready to accept me. Her own sex required a bit of coaxing before allowing Natalie's finger to slide up and in; her sister apparently had needed no such convincing. She was certainly not like Miss Ritter, who more often than not required the touch of a tongue before her opening was slick and receptive enough to comfortably allow a finger. Memories of the conflict that raged in Gwen at those times, when the dominant Lady insisted she be repulsed by the act she was performing while the meeker Slut suggested that it really wasn't so bad. But things had changed...

"Natalie?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Would it be alright if I kissed you...down there?" Her hand stopped its rocking motion, as if to avoid drawing any further attention to where "there" was. 

Her sister smiled and lay back. "Of course. I'd love you too."

A wave of panic swept over Gwen as she realized there was no turning back now. What if she did it wrong, or didn't like it? Would Natalie be mad or offended? 

The naked woman next to her sensed her hesitation. "You don't have to if you don't want to..."

"No, I want to." Gwen shuffled to the end of the blanket and between the pair of legs that had been opened for her. She knelt and bent forward, aware of the sun on her back and upturned bottom. She had seen Natalie from this angle before, had even touched her when grooming her, but still she felt compelled to pause and admire the sight. Labial lips varying in shades from pink and red to grey and purple bloomed from between a cleft formed by two puffy pillows of flesh. The pillows grew smaller as they descended to where her opening lay barely hidden behind a semicircle formed by her engorged lips. Further below, a strip of smooth skin gave way to a partially obscured rosebud. 

Still she hesitated. How to start? What would Natalie find pleasing? Start with a kiss, the Slut said impatiently, and do whatever Miss Ritter made you do. Better yet, do what you like. Gwen bent forward and planted a light kiss on the top of the cleft, just below the remaining tuft of hair. She could feel the beginning of the valley under her lips, and she imagined the stiff little nub concealed underneath. It was left undisturbed for now, however, her own preference being for a little more teasing first, kissing her way down towards the other end of the valley. 

The feel of Natalie's labia under her lips was new and somewhat unexpected. Miss Ritter's vulva had been a reflection of the woman herself—drawn up, trim, under control, the diminutive petals of her flower neatly withdrawn from view. By contrast, Natalie felt like a confusion of soft, warm, pliant skin, and there was a hint of the moisture that lay tucked in and about her abundant folds. She remembered the taste of her own excitement on Tim's cheeks and how she had wondered about Natalie. Guess it's a good time to find out, Gwen thought, and gently pushed her tongue through the yielding flesh. 

She found wetness there, more than Miss Ritter had ever produced, even during her orgasms. The Lady had always made the argument that her instructor tasted unpleasant, more out of indignation than truth, but she could not do the same now. Her sister's bouquet was exciting and not unpleasant. A hand gently alighted on her head. She looked up without removing her tongue, fearful that perhaps the touch had been a signal to stop, but her sister-in-law's eyes were shut tight against the sun and the feeling between her legs while she fondled her right breast. 

Gwen continued kissing her way down until her chin rested on the cotton blanket. Natalie raised her hips in a clear invitation to continue, down to where her lips met to hint at the opening beneath. Gwen lay down to do her part to better the angle, feeling where the blanket ended and the grass started beneath her thighs. The hand on her head twitched as she drove her tongue deep between the pillows of flesh.

Like riding a bike, the Slut observed as long-unused-but-never-forgotten skills were rapidly recalled. At least I don't seem to be doing it wrong, Gwen acknowledged to herself as Natalie sighed and coo'd with pleasure while her hips twitched spasmodically whenever the tongue in her sex touched a particularly sensitive spot. The Lady's desire to ignore the goings on and remain on the alert for intruders were politely acknowledged then ignored as Gwen wished for some way to accommodate the need between her own legs. 

"I'm close," Natalie finally grunted, "put two fingers in me and lick my clit." Gwen was only slightly less surprised to discover the extra digit was as easily accommodated as the first. Thighs pressed against her ears, locking her in place. 

"Right there...yes...yes...right there...yessss," the muffled voice chanted with rising urgency. "Yes—yes—yes—ohhh, fuckkkkk meeeee..."Gwen's palm rubbed against her chest as her fingers did their best to give Natalie what she was chanting for. She sensed when the time had come to stop everything and let the world explode around her sister. 

The flesh holding her head in place eventually parted, allowing her to look up past a pair of large glistening breasts to Natalie's smiling, sweating face. Gwen moved back up on to the blanket and lay down, mustering the courage to ask for the assistance in getting her own orgasm that she so sorely desired. The body next to her rose as she reclined. 

"Let's see what we can do for you," Her sister settled on her knees and haunches, looked down on the naked body, and smiled. "Sorry about that," Natalie said, one hand gently brushing moisture from Gwen's cheeks while the other began to turn circles below her breasts, "I got you pretty wet. Close your eyes and relax." 

The hand on her moved down instead of up, pushing her thighs apart to matter-of-factly insert a finger into her sex. A second finger joined the first, both curling up inside her and gently stroking a few times before they were removed. Gwen did not have long to wonder about their withdrawal, as they were soon pressed against the lips over her closed mouth. "Show me how you suck cock. Imagine Tim is sitting on your chest, feeding you his dick...show me how you'd make him happy."

Gwen accepted the fingers, the taste of her own juices similar yet distinct from what she had just taken from Natalie, and began to swirl her tongue about the tips. This is just silly, the Lady huffed, this feels nothing like a real penis, but Gwen played along with the suggested imagery, anxious to follow Natalie's direction. She began to gently bob up and down along the length, but the fingers were again removed. 

"Spread your legs. Wider," the woman above her said sternly when she was slow to react. Gwen overcompensated for the perceived rebuke, bringing her knees apart almost to the point of discomfort.

"Better," Natalie purred, and her fingers again bulled their way into Gwen's opening. "Give all those watching men something to beat off to while you suck your husband." The moisture-coated fingers left her sex and were back at her mouth, demanding to be sucked. The other hand dove between her legs, fingers pushing up deep inside of her while a thumb lay nestled against her clitoris. "Maybe Tim will let one of them fuck you as your reward for blowing him." 

Gwen could imagine the crowd of men stroking their penises, vying for a better view as she serviced the ones already inside of her. This was not her idea of course—Natalie was making her entertain all of these men—but she was determined to satisfy them all. The one in her mouth continued to patiently stroke while the other began to pump with more vigor. He was close, she imagined, and decided he would fill her. Tim would be next, and Gwen joined him.

She was dimly aware of the cocks being withdrawn—fingers, they were fingers, she reminded herself—and the soft press of Natalie's lips on her own. The women rested for a bit, Gwen delighting in the feel of the soft breeze drying her own sheen of perspiration, before the women returned to their jeans and boots and started down the hill.

"That was just make-believe," Gwen told her sister as they rode. "I would never cheat on Tim like that."

"I know you wouldn't," Natalie agreed. "But cheating ain't cheating if it's sharing. I'll have to thank him some time for sharing you with me." 

Gwen almost replied with a "you wouldn't' dare," but stopped it short of her lips. Natalie would dare. And it might be fun to watch. 

***

As planned, Cricket pulled into the driveway at precisely 10am the next morning. "I didn't see your truck when I pulled up," the young woman said, "and I was afraid you weren't home." 

"Tim's got it this weekend. The business won a contest of some sort from one of the suppliers, so we got four tickets and luxury suite access at a football game in Atlanta tomorrow afternoon. There's some sort of welcome dinner tonight, so he left about a half-hour ago."

Oh—I hope I didn't stop you from going." 

Gwen laughed. "Oh, Heavens no. I have no desire to be in a stadium full of football fans. Tim took Cliff and his two boys. They're staying the night in Atlanta, so just us until tomorrow, I'm afraid." 

"I'm no Tim, but I'll try and be good company."

They rode until the late afternoon, finishing their chores as dusk was falling. Gwen started dinner while Cricket showered, then took her own while the younger woman watched the stove. They shared a bottle of wine and more conversation along with the meal.

"Are you going to your mother's for Thanksgiving?" Gwen asked as they cleared the table. 

"No, Mom and husband number 4 are going to Las Vegas to meet with one of his clients. They didn't ask me to join them, not that I could have unless they paid for my flight and room. To tell the truth, I wouldn't have wanted to go anyways. Still, it would have been better than another year with Daniel's family. God, I was dreading that. His older sisters have eight kids between them, and are trying for more. I think the whole family sees those reality-TV families with dozens of children as role models. The first year we were married was pretty bad with all the 'helpful hints' on how to get started, but last year was even worse. I think Daniel might have told them I only liked the sex part of making babies, and I think that confirmed their suspicion I was some kind of slut. His oldest sister even took me aside and told me that, and I quote, 'that I was abusing my body in a way God didn't intend...'"

"Giving birth is the real abuse," Gwen said with a smile. "I don't care what anyone says, it hurts! So, what are you going to do for Thanksgiving, then?" 

"Oh, maybe splurge and buy some turkey loaf, watch whatever Christmas specials are on TV. I'm going to work Friday and Saturday so some of the other people I work with can spend time with their families." 




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 18



The older woman was horrified by the thought of her guest sitting alone in her apartment, and angered her mother didn't seem to care enough to prevent it from happening. "Cricket, why don't you come with Tim and me to my family's Thanksgiving dinner? It's at my parents' house, I'm sure they would be glad to have you—" Gwen wondered as to the truth of this, particularly her own mother—"and you can finally meet KD, and my brother, and Natalie." 

"Gwen thank you, that's very sweet, but I can't intrude on your family's holiday. I'll be fine alone."

"You'll better with friends. Please come. I insist. I do not want you spending Thanksgiving alone."

The young woman pondered the invitation for a moment. "Alright, thank you, yes, I'd love to come. But only if I can bring something." 

Gwen laughed. "Even we're not bringing anything. My parents have the entire dinner catered. It gets dropped off at their house, all ready to eat. But you can help Natalie and me put it in the oven to warm up, if you like. Plan on being here in the morning, and we can go over together, then you can stay here overnight and go to work from here." 

Cricket, her eyes moist, hugged her host. "Thank you, this all sounds wonderful."

The young woman groaned and stretched as they broke their embrace. "This is so embarrassing! I'm sore from riding! I never imagined that would ever happen."

"You're out of practice. You need to come up here more often."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm already here too much. I'm such a nuisance."

"Tim and I love having you here. You're not a nuisance at all. As for the soreness, the hot tub might help." 

Cricket stretched again and smiled shyly. "Is it alright if I use it? I'll get my bathing suit. I just leave it packed now." 

"A soak would be nice. I'll go up with you. Let me get changed."

The young woman took a step towards her room, stopped, and looked back at Gwen. "I, uhh, think part of being a nuisance is I might be umm, cramping your style. I know Alison said you liked to swim without a bathing suit when it's just you...I'm guessing that goes for the hot tub, too?"

"For the last time, you are not a nuisance," Gwen said more firmly, "and yes, if it's just Tim and I, we don't bother with suits." 

"You don't have to bother with one when I'm around, if you don't want to," Cricket said in a rush. "I'm a big girl, it won't bother me."

"Tell you what," Gwen announced, the wine making her bold. "I won't wear one if you won't. That way neither one of us will be bothered." 

The young woman hesitated. "I, uhh...this sounds silly, but I never swam without a suit before. Do we get undressed now, or up there or...?"

"Wait here." Gwen retreated down the hallway, returning a moment later with two robes. She handed one to the young woman. "Here. Go get changed. I'll wait for you." 

Cricket blushed and headed for the guest room, Gwen waiting until she closed the door before stripping down. The young woman reappeared a few moments later, her host's hand-me-down belted securely about her waist. Gwen handed her two towels while she picked up a bottle of wine and glasses. "Ready?" 

The women made their way up the hillside in the autumn darkness, Cricket looking about nervously as Gwen poured two glasses and set them within reach of the spa. Her own nerves were on edge as the moment had come to disrobe, her young friend looking on anxiously for guidance. Her calm expression masking the urgings of the modest Lady for restraint, she faced Cricket, undid her robe and walked past her, down into the steaming water. 

She turned and sat in time to see Cricket untie her own robe and lay it over a nearby chair as Gwen had done, revealing a lithe, well-toned figure, at least as petite as the older woman she was now exposed to, if not more. She turned and hurried into the tub, submerging herself up to her neck as quickly as her body would allow, letting out a squeak of discomfort while she adjusted to the sudden change of temperature. 

Cricket gratefully accepted the glass being offered to her and took a gulp. "I feel so daring, and...naughty, I guess?" she said with a nervous giggle. "I've never been naked outside before. Daniel would freak out if he could see me now. This would be a big no-no. He's so not into naked people. Well, at least he wasn't into me naked...sounds like his co-worker had what he was looking for." The young woman looked into her glass. 

"Your ex-husband is a fool," Gwen declared. "You are a beautiful girl. And now that you're moving on from him, I'm sure there plenty of men for you to get out and meet who think you're beautiful, too." 

Cricket laughed softly, the wine loosening her tongue. "I was never much for going out, even before Daniel. I think that's why he took a liking to me—I could talk finance and I didn't seem like a 'loose woman'. I got hit on some in college, but only said yes three times—the first time was to lose my virginity and see what the big deal was, the second time was to see if I had done it wrong the first time, because it really wasn't that good, and the third time was I really thought I was missing something. The really sad part was, number three passed out on my bed before we could do anything. Honestly, I don't think any of the three were looking for beauty as much as someone with the required body parts who would say yes. Problem was, the first two apparently had a much better time than I did based on how quickly they finished, and the third threw up in my bed. So, I guess I'm better off giving myself a good time. And sorry, that was way too much sharing." 

"It's too bad you've had those experiences. It took me a while to find out how good a physical relationship can be, too. But that was my fault, not Tim's. Don't give up. And I'm glad you're 'taking care of yourself'." 

They fell silent, the wine, the water and the soft hum of the water pump lulling them into a very relaxed state. Gwen finally roused them. "C'mon, we've been in long enough. You look like you're falling asleep." They climbed from the tub and dried off, Cricket pointedly looking away from her host, not wanting to appear as though she were staring at the nude woman. Both slipped on their robes to ward off the chill night air before descending back to the house. "Going to bed?" Gwen asked as they stepped into the kitchen. 

Cricket nodded. "The water did wonders for my aches and pains, but it made me a little sleepy." And being naked like that made me a little horny, she added silently. Was it bad manners to masturbate in another person's house?

"Before you go," Gwen called out over her shoulder as she headed towards the bedroom, "hold on a second." She returned a moment later, holding a gift bag.

"Gwen, this is too much. You really don't have to—"

"Hush. It's not much." Cricket could see her host was somewhat nervous about something.

"After all you've done for me, anything is too much. What is it?"

"You should, umm, open it and find out."

The young woman reached into the bag and retrieved the first tissue-wrapped box. Eying Gwen with mock suspicion, she gently broke the tape seal and removed the wrapping.

"Oh, a neck massager," Cricket said examining the Magic Wand. "How did you know I was going to be sore after riding?" 

"Maybe you should, uhh, open the next one."

"There's more?" Cricket's hand plunged into the bag, past a layer of tissue to the bottom. Her look changed from one of comic exasperation to concern, and Gwen feared her gift had gone too far. Despite the plastic packaging molded about what the young woman had grasped, the object felt strangely familiar, but totally out of place in a gift bag. The wrapping was carefully removed to reveal her very own Big John. Cricket's mouth was wide in astonishment as she looked to Gwen to confirm what she held. 

"I'm sorry," Gwen said weakly, "You asked about that catalog in my office and how Daniel threw yours away and I thought you might like a replacement. I can return them, no problem," she said reaching for the dildo Cricket was holding, "I'm sorry, these are really inappropriate gifts, I have no idea what I was thinking, sorry."

The young woman pulled the package back out of reach. "No, please, I don't want you to return them. They're not inappropriate at all—I, I like them. I'm touched you'd take a chance like this. I'm sorry if I seem shocked, but I've never gotten anything like this before." She looked down at the Magic Wand lying on the table. "So, that's not a neck massager?"

"Well, I suppose it can be used for that," Gwen said, blushing, "but I've never used mine that way."

It was Cricket's turn to grin and blush. "Oh, you have one, too? Do you have...one—" she held the plastic-encased dildo up—"like this?" 

The older woman nodded. "There's one more thing in there."

"Gwen, this must have cost a fortune! There can't be more!"

"Just one more."

Cricket retrieved the Rabbit and unwrapped it. "I know it looks like some sort of art project with all the protrusions and the little white balls, but it really is a vibrator, and the end kind of circles around which makes the balls move. It sounds crazy and I'm sure I'm not describing it that well, but if you try it you'll see what I mean. I have one a lot like that, too" Gwen admitted, "they do what they're supposed to."

"I'm sure they do," Cricket laughed, slipping the rabbit out of its packaging and inspecting it. "Thank you." She put the vibrator down and hugged Gwen. This is the best and most interesting gift I've had in a long time. Well, other than Mr. Gambini."

"Mr. Gambini is my gift to Daniel," Gwen said as she returned the hug. "I'm going to bed. Stay up as late as you want, sleep as late as you want."

Cricket put her gifts back in the bag. "Thank you again. This really is too much. Someday and somehow, I will repay you for all your kindness."

"Gifts are meant to be enjoyed, not repaid. Let's just say it's nice to have another good friend. Goodnight. See you in the morning." 

Cricket smiled, grabbed the bag, and headed down the hallway, softly closing the door to the guest room behind her. Gwen took her time turning out lights, looking out the window for signs of anything amiss in the barn. Batteries, she suddenly remembered. I forgot to put batteries in the bag. She doesn't need to be spending money on those. A package was retrieved from the utility drawer, and she softly knocked on Cricket's door. 

"Uhh, one minute." She could hear the crinkling of the bag, followed by silence. The door opened and the wide-eyed young woman stood there, the robe which had been discarded when she entered the room held modestly against her chest. Gwen caught a glimpse of the now empty dildo packaging peeking out from the top of the bag.

"The neck massager plugs into the wall, and the Big John doesn't need anything, but the Rabbit needs these," she offered, holding out the batteries. 

"Oh, thanks, that's very nice of you."

Gwen smiled. "Sleep well. See you in the morning."

"You too." 

Gwen retired to her own room 2 doors down. With a guest in the house, she considered at least putting on a t-shirt to sleep in, but the Slut reminded her she had already shown her guest everything. She laid the robe at the end of the bed and pondered the events of the evening. Cricket had accepted the gifts politely, Gwen thought, and she dared hope the young woman had actually been pleased with them, if a little embarrassed. Maybe she'd actually use them...

Maybe tonight, the Slut suggested, and an image of the young woman tentatively exploring her new toys came to her unbidden. The Lady banished such impure thoughts about the innocent young creature, but Gwen could not deny it only stoked the fires of arousal that had been building since she had dropped her robe and entered the hot tub. Her own toys were certainly available to take the edge off; she settled by slipping under the covers with her own rabbit and one of the dildos, the one she had subconsciously started referring to as the 'beer can', somewhat confident that her actions and the softer buzzing of that particular vibrator might be more easily hidden under the sheets. She's not going to come in unannounced, the Slut counseled, get comfy! Gwen smiled to herself and decided her current course of action would be sufficient for her needs. She was right, and the sleep that followed her orgasm was restful, her toys carelessly left in plain view on the nightstand. 

She awoke at her customary time the next morning, her internal clock making an alarm unnecessary. The robe she had worn the night before was considered sufficient cover, and she made her way into the kitchen to start breakfast. The coffee had been started when she heard the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway.

"Oh—you're up!" a fully-dressed Cricket squeaked as she turned the corner, startled by the figure at the sink. 

"So are you," Gwen said with a smile. "Going somewhere?"

"Oh, I just got up." Not just, the young woman thought. I was up forty-five minutes ago. I just got taking care of things would be closer to the truth. "I was uhh, going to go muck the stalls before you got up. No reason for you to have to do that when I'm here."

"I'm perfectly capable of mucking stalls, young lady. But, since you're dressed for the part and I am not, you do the stalls and I'll make breakfast. Deal?"

The young woman smiled. "Deal. Oh, and uhh, do you ever use the hot tub during the day?"

Gwen nodded. "Uh-huh. Why wouldn't we?"

"Well, umm, you know, it's light out, and no bathing suits...if Tim's not home until tonight, maybe we could get in it again—maybe before or after we ride?"

"Why not both?"

Cricket grinned. "Yeah...why not?"



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 19



Standard disclaimers.

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this. . Also, this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*

The days before Thanksgiving were hectic. The business focused its efforts on customers needing working kitchens in time for the meals that would be prepared in them while Gwen readied the house for KD and Cricket's stays. 

She was in town with a particularly busy schedule that Wednesday morning, her first stop the bank to pick up the check for the new truck loan they had taken out. Andrew had passed his Journeyman's test the week before, and true to their word, they were putting the oldest of their vehicles in his hopefully capable hands. But that couldn't happen until Tim's new truck (ownership had its privileges, he had replied when Mike asked why he got the latest addition) had been delivered. We should have done this weeks ago, Gwen grumbled to herself as she hurried into the lobby. We're way too busy, and Andrew might have been some help on his own. 

Check in hand, Gwen's next stop was Murphy Motors, where a smiling young receptionist ushered her into the office of the dealership's business manager, Margaret Murphy. Tim had given Al Murphy the details of what was needed, this year's model of what Nelson Plumbing had purchased the last two times, and the truck was due in the next Monday. 

"Gwen, how nice to see you again." Margaret said, rising from her desk. The older woman, easily four and inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than her customer, offered her hand. Most of those extra pounds were likely in her breasts, Gwen thought—larger than even Natalie's, and the very conservative business suit and jacket she wore could only mask so much. As she had overheard one of the contractors say at a Chamber of Commerce meeting, no man in town would pay less than full price if Margaret Murphy would begin negotiations by taking her top off. 

But the dealership's business manager had always been careful to show less, not more; her style and bearing had always impressed Gwen as how a successful business woman should present herself. And that made Tim's assertion that it had been her partying naked on a boat with other naked men and women that much more unbelievable. Pictures of children and grandchildren covered the wall behind her as well as civic and business awards she had accumulated over the years. By all appearances, she was a very proper wife, grandmother, business and community leader. No, it couldn't have been her. 

"We'll have it ready early next week," Margaret confirmed as they filled out the paperwork. "Are you guys working normal hours on Friday?" 

"Tim likes to give everyone the day off after Thanksgiving, so no scheduled appointments. He'll cover any emergency calls—it's mostly grease-clogs and broken garbage disposals, things like that, anyways. I'm guessing the dealership is open?"

"We're retail, so I'm afraid so," Margaret said with a shrug. "Never can tell when someone wants to give a car for Christmas. We'll both be here on Friday, but I'm taking Saturday off."

Doing something fun?"

"I promised Al I'd clean out the boat," the blonde said with groan and a roll of her eyes. "It got used hard this summer, and I never really got a chance to clean up the cabin." 

Boat? Gwen's belief that it could not have been the woman before her out at the so-called "party cove" was tested. "Oh, I didn't know you two had a boat."

"Oh yeah, had one for quite a while now."

"Where do you two normally go with it?"

The well-built blonde fidgeted uncomfortably. "Oh, here, there, wherever's close and we can put in." 

"Oh—well, Cleaning up doesn't sound like much fun."

"Not as much fun as using the boat was, no." 

Gwen could not help but imagine what the woman on the other side of the desk might look like without her business attire, without anything at all. She carried the few extra pounds well, and they probably only made her more voluptuous in the flesh.

"We'll call you as soon as the shop finished prepping it."

Gwen was startled out of her daydream. "Sorry?"

"We'll call you as soon as the shop finished prepping it," Margaret repeated with a smile. "I'm guessing you were just going over the list of things you had to do before tomorrow, weren't you?" 

"Oh, sorry, I guess I was," Gwen lied, putting the woman's clothes back on. The last of the paperwork was completed without any further mental lapses, and they said their goodbyes. She slid behind the wheel of her SUV and quickly reviewed her schedule. Alison's, grocery store for a few last-minute things, then home in time to greet KD. 

Gwen had promised her daughter she would check their apartment while they were spending the holiday with Jason's family outside of Chicago. Bring in the mail, water the plants, make sure everything was in order. Certainly nothing seemed amiss when she let herself in, the small living room quiet save for the ticking of a clock as she set the envelopes and flyers down on the table and began looking through the rest of the apartment before returning to the kitchen to begin watering. 

Her hand brushed the mouse on the computer desk as she leaned over to reach a potted palm, the laptop next to it whirring to life and the sudden noise in the still apartment startling her. They must have forgotten they left it in sleep mode, she thought as she carefully spilling water on the machine. I should probably shut it down for them. The display sprang to life, a picture of Dancer filling the screen and giving away the computer's owner. Gwen pointed the mouse to the start button, then hesitated. Maybe Ali wanted it left on for some reason. I can leave it alone and it'll just go back to sleep. The Slut used this time to scan the screen for anything of interest, settling on the My Pictures folder. Might be fun to look at the wedding photos again, Gwen reasoned, but both Lady and Slut knew the real attraction, one screaming about the unthinkable invasion of privacy while the other egged her on. 

Gwen had snooped on her daughters before, but the Lady insisted this was different. It was in your own home then, and you were looking for things Alison and Kathryn Deanna shouldn't have had. This is nothing more than satisfying your perverted curiosity. She got to look at your pictures, and don't forget she found your toys, the Slut argued convincingly, what's a little peek at her husband's cock? There's probably nothing in there to see, anyways.

Your son's genitals, the Lady huffed pointedly, emphasizing the last word, and if there's nothing in there there's no need to look. Once seen, it can't be unseen, she was reminded in the same voice used to warn her daughter. Gwen thought for some time before siding with the Slut and settled into the chair. Just a quick look, she told herself. I still have to go grocery shopping. There were more folders to click after the first, all named after places and events, and one labeled 'us'. Gwen took a breath and held it, again debating the wisdom of her action, then expelled as she clicked. There were dozens of files inside, the ones on the screen all named 'abjf' and numbered. Gwen double-clicked on abjf1. 

She breathed a small sigh of relief at the picture of a slightly younger, fully-clothed Jason standing in what appeared to be Ali's college dorm room. There, satisfied? The Lady pleaded. Please shut down the computer and go get milk. The store is going to be packed! The Slut urged her to press the button again. With a click, Jason's shirt was now off, hamming it up for the camera in a muscle-man sort of pose, his chest and abdomen showing the results of his competitive swimming. Another click and his jeans were in the process of being removed, his back to the camera and a very brief pair of underwear his only cover. And then they were gone too, the young man's back still to the camera, his legs slightly spread and arms curled above his head in a classic pose, a very muscular backside topping well-defined thighs and calves. Gwen guessed correctly as to what the next photo revealed. Jason held the same pose, but had turned to face the camera. He grinned as his penis stood proudly at attention amidst a nest of black curls, pointing to the ceiling while his testicles hung heavily beneath. 

Okay, you've seen his thing, now can we go? The Lady begged, but Gwen ignored her. Nobody would ever know, and it was exciting to see this side of her son; she couldn't stop just yet. Another click of the mouse and he was now holding his penis, his hips thrusting it towards the camera in a rude sort of offering. Gwen clicked back and forth between the two photos for some time, admiring, before moving on to the next one. Jason disappeared, replaced by a fully-clothed Alison standing in the same spot her boyfriend had been in, his jeans still on the bed behind her. She was laughing uproariously and crossing her arms in front of her in apparent reaction to Jason's display and request. Gwen couldn't resist—she wanted to know if her daughter was able to maintain her virtue in front of this presumably still-naked man. Alison was still in her school sweatshirt and jeans in the next photo, again laughing but now vamping for the camera, her hand behind her head while a knee was bent and brought over the other leg. The next was of her backside, hands on her hips and torso bent forward slightly to push her bottom out towards the camera. In the next, she had bent all the way over to prop herself on the edge of the mattress while she spread her legs slightly, her denim-clad rear now the center of attention. She teased the camera for several more shots, the sweatshirt riding up to reveal the skin of her lower back and the top of an aquamarine thong. 

And then she was facing the camera again, the sweatshirt gone and a lacy white bra peeking out from behind the hands and forearms the laughing girl was again using to preserve her modesty. Her modesty was gone in the next photo but her laugh remained as she returned to her vamp pose, her back arched to present her bra-covered breasts. Her jeans joined the photographer's on the bed, Jason taking the opportunity for more unveiling shots as Alison shucked them off. Again she bent over, hands on the bed, the thong disappearing into the cleft of her bottom and the gloom between her legs. Her bra was next, Alison holding and offering her pert breasts to the camera, her face a sexy pout. And then even the miniscule cover of her thong was gone, the cleft of her hairless vulva clearly visible between her legs. The hands on her cocked hips and the look on her face seemed to be saying she thought this had gone far enough. 

The Lady thought so too but Gwen clicked, curious if that truly was the end of it, quickly discovering it wasn't. The camera now pointed down Jason's rippled abdomen to his erection and Alison kneeling beneath it, her eyes closed as she delicately kissed the underside of his foreskin-shrouded head. Gwen knew she should stop right there—this was perversion far beyond what she had ever stooped to before, and that was saying something—but couldn't. The photos fascinated her and she had to know exactly how this ended. 

Rampant arousal somehow made it possible to distance herself from the knowledge she was looking at her daughter performing oral sex on her future son. Gwen studied the pictures as she would those of a horse and rider, evaluating and appreciating the form and enthusiasm being displayed for potential use in bettering her own performance. The staff disappeared between the young woman's lips while her barely-visible hand fondled the sac beneath; her eyes looked into the camera with slutty sultriness she would never have guessed Alison capable of. 

The wet length reappeared, one of Jason's hands pulling the loose skin back to fully expose the angry crimson head it while the other still held the camera. Alison still kneeled below, face upturned with a patient expression, eyes closed, waiting. 

A thick pearl-white line glistened on the lips of the now scrunched-up face in the next photo, over the bridge of her nose and on into her cornsilk-blonde hair. Each subsequent picture added another line or two, and then he was back in her mouth, Alison's face no longer contorted but her eyes remaining closed as she cleaned her man's still-hard length. Another click, and the scene changed to her daughter casually lying on her dorm room bed, again fully dressed but in different clothes, apparently the start of another photo opportunity. 

Enough, the Lady commanded, and a quick glance at the time forced Gwen to agree. The Slut begged for a just a few moments to relieve the sexual pressure the picture show had created; her alter ego sternly pointed out the time, the fact that she was in her daughter's apartment, and that the cause of her excitement had been her daughter's performance as excellent reasons to forego "even a quickie". Despite her arousal, Gwen knew she should just get going. With a sigh, she began to shut down the computer, then stopped. Maybe they do want it running, she remembered, and left it as she found it, carefully closing the folders she had opened. 

Her delay at Alison's meant a delay getting to the grocery store, and the presence of so many others trying to get their last minute preparations had her waiting in line, reflecting on what she had seen and what she now felt. Guilt had always been the price she paid for sexual desire, at least until recently; now it was back with a vengeance after the indecency she had just committed. The guilt was doubly strong, both for her invading Alison and Jason's privacy, and also from the arousal caused by their performance. Her sexual urges would be handled the old-fashioned way, she decided as she stared at the back of the woman in front of her, by waiting for them to subside rather than giving in to her perverted lust. 

Gwen managed to get home moments before the first truck did, with KD pulling into the yard only a short time after that. Her arousal was subdued but not forgotten as she and Tim caught up with their daughter, enjoying each other's company until late in the evening. The pace of the past couple of weeks took their toll, and despite the Slut's continued urgings for "just a quick one", sleep came moments after they lay back in bed. 

Her dreams that night were vivid and outlandish, of unspeakable sexual acts and impossible situations. To her dismay the urge to satisfy her cravings were even stronger than the day before, but guilt and common sense prevailed, and with a daughter already in the house and a guest arriving shortly, a nightgown-and-bathrobe-clad Gwen shuffled out to the kitchen to begin the morning routine. 

Tim was already out getting chores done by the time KD stumbled out of her room, the sweats-clad girl kissing her mother on the cheek and flopping into a chair by the kitchen table. Gwen set a cup of coffee in front of her and returned to making breakfast. "I see you brought your laundry home," she said over her shoulder.

"As usual," KD agreed. "Don't worry, just laundry in them this time," she added in a lower voice.

Gwen smiled to herself, assuming she was referring to the items that had been at the bottom of her bags the last visit. "I wasn't worried then, and I'm not worried now," she said as she set a plate of bacon down. "You're an adult, and I was glad to see you're staying safe and taking care of yourself." 

"Alison's right—this new Mom takes some getting used to. But I'll do my best," KD sighed theatrically, taking a piece of the bacon and chewing slowly. "You do know what that was in my bag, right?"

Gwen turned and faced her daughter. KD had always been a good child, but she was also the more mischievous of her children, occasionally making seemingly innocuous comments or asking innocent questions with the intent of discomfiting her straight-laced mother. This time, Gwen was determined not to give the young woman at the table any satisfaction. "Of course I do."

KD would not let it go. Her mother had somehow gained the upper hand that night she had caught her daughter bringing it back into the house from the pool, and that could not go unchallenged. "So, what was it?"

"It was a dildo, Kathryn Deanna. Apparently a life-like representation of someone your friend knows. We talked about the last time you were home, remember? And there were some condoms. Why?"

Her daughter broke into a grin and acknowledged that her attempt to embarrass the woman at the stove had apparently failed. "Sorry, sorry, I just can't get over that my mom knows what a dildo is! That is so cool!" 

Gwen willed her face to remain expressionless. "Of course I know what a dildo is. I have two of my own." She turned back to the scrambled eggs, only then breaking into her own grin at the look of shock she had put on her daughter's face. 

*** Cricket was relieved to find she was appropriately attired when she arrived that morning, the dark blue knee-length dress in line with Tim's suit and Gwen's own dress. KD had on a skirt and blouse, Gwen reminding her daughter that her grandmother would expect something over the white shirt to hide the very obvious lace bra underneath. 

Gwen's young friend was for the most part warmly welcomed by her family, only Irene Curran privately grumbling about Thanksgiving "being for family" before finally admitting she was nice enough, even if she was using the Firm's resources free of charge and had brought a wine of dubious vintage. Natalie hushed her mother by reminding her the young woman was of very limited means at the moment, and had been polite enough to bring something even when told she didn't have to. 

Norm Curran's formal bearing loosened as the Scotch and Waters flowed and Cricket thanked him effusively for Mr. Gambini's help, at one point the silver-haired lawyer even offering the young woman the chance to begin a new career in a fast-track position at his firm. Natalie and Adam exchanged knowing, nervous glances as to his intent, but Cricket gracefully declined, stating her desire to stay in the financial field. 

The young woman stayed over as planned that evening, helping to tend to the horses. KD had plans to go down into town that evening to meet up with friends and asked Cricket along, offering to introduce her to some of the male talent that had come into town for the holidays, but the young woman was content to stay in her sweats on the couch and watch TV with her hosts. She was in bed well before them, but only after yet again thanking Gwen and Tim for her first real Thanksgiving, boldly giving them both heartfelt hugs. 

The click of the guest room door closing was also the thud of Gwen's resolve failing. "We should go to bed, too." 

Tim glanced at the woman standing over him, then back to the TV. "You go ahead, honey. I'm gonna catch the weather and then I'll be in."

She gently laid her hand on his denim-covered crotch. "We should go to bed, too."

"Uh yeah, I guess we should." 

Gwen led the way, waiting until Tim had closed the bedroom door behind him before peeling off her robe and nightgown. "Get undressed," she quietly instructed the bemused man standing in front of her. He smiled at her uncharacteristic impatience as he stripped down. 

She was on her knees in front of him as his jeans were discarded, not giving him enough time to even remove his socks. Gwen kissed the tip of his semi-erect member, the length hurrying to answer the unexpected call to action. It was still working into form when she engulfed it, her hand weighing his pouch.




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 19



Tim was surprised with both her boldness, especially with a guest in the house, and his wife's enthusiasm for her task, her head bobbing back and forth in rhythm to her fist sliding back and forth. Don't fuck it up, just go with the flow, he told himself. Maybe she'll let me bend her over the bed, guest be damned. The improbable fantasy of Cricket walking in unannounced to witness her friend being soundly fucked made him grunt in appreciation at the attention his cock was receiving. 

"You ready?" Tim asked, trying to remove himself from Gwen's mouth so he could position her in plain view if the door did somehow open. 

The kneeling woman let him slide from her lips, holding on to his shaft to prevent him from escaping. "Do you think you could finish like this?" 

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Then I want you to. It won't take long for me after, either. Just tell me when you're ready, alright?" Gwen didn't wait for his response, taking him as deeply as she dared without gagging, her fist advancing then retreating before her lips.

"Gettin' close," Tim muttered after one particular flurry of her tongue on his glans. 

Gwen has anticipated his announcement and removed him from her mouth, planting one more kiss on the spongy head and settling back on her haunches. Placing her hands on her thighs, she closed her eyes and turned her face up towards him. "I'm ready." 

He looked down at her uncertainly. "You mean you want me to...on you?"

"Mm-hmmm," she replied softly, never opening her eyes. "Natalie said a lot of men like to do that, and you seemed to like it when you did it accidentally that time, so...unless you'd rather not."

"No, no," Tim said hurriedly, grabbing his cock and beginning to stroke. "I'm sure as hell not gonna argue with Natalie. I just never thought in a million years you'd ask me to do that." 

"Then do it. Mark me." 

Gwen waited with a patient yet expectant expression, listening to the sound of his labored breathing, the wet slicking noise of his fist urgently stroking his length just inches away. The sound of his soft grunt reached her ears an instant before the first jet of his orgasm landed on her cheek and across her eye. Despite her mental preparation she recoiled a bit from the force and heat, unaware her expression was identical to the one Alison had made. Gwen's mouth opened in surprise, only to quickly close again as the second spurt fell across her lips and onto her tongue. She tasted the saltiness of his spend as his ejaculation continued to pelt her, weakening with each burst. Sensing he was empty, she took him back in her mouth, feeling him shiver as she cleaned him. 

"Don't open your eyes," he warned as he withdrew himself from her mouth and hurried to the bathroom. "Let me get you something to clean up with." He returned in time to see her discarded nightgown being used as a towel. 

"Wow, you had a lot!" She exclaimed with a laugh. "Or maybe it just felt like a lot."

"It's been a while, remember? So, now your turn?"

"If you're able to," Gwen said politely, "but only if you want to." Still on her knees, she looked up at her husband. Please want to, please, she silently begged. 

"Well, he's not going to be much help for a little while," Tim said, looking down at his softening manhood, "but he's not the only game in town. Any requests?"

"Whatever you want to do..."

Tim's expression grew serious and he nodded. "Get up," he ordered, offering her a hand, "lay back on the bed." She took a step back and sat down, scooting back to get her body on the mattress. "Far enough," he said, pulling her towards him while kneeling between her spread knees. He pulled until her sex was close to the edge. "So beautiful," he murmured after spreading her, softly planting a kiss on her sex. Gwen understood and appreciated his fascination. 

Tim was patient with her needs, his recent orgasm removing his own urgency as his tongue teased and explored while his calloused palms toyed with her breasts. He sensed when Gwen grew close, her hips twitching and bucking as he circled her clit, her tiny hands forcing his head down into her slit as she came. 

He looked up when the pressure on the back of his head lessened. "Was that alright?"

The guilt was still there, strengthened by the knowledge she had failed to wait out her perverted lust, but the need for release was gone, and she enjoyed the afterglow of its arrival and departure. 

Gwen lifted her head and smiled at the face still between her legs. "It was wonderful. Could you come up here and hold me for a little bit?" 

***

Gwen made sure Cricket got a proper breakfast before she left for work the next morning, the young woman wishing she could stay and spent the day riding with Gwen and KD. 

The ride gave mother and daughter a chance to talk more freely than they perhaps ever had before, KD cautiously revealing more of her hopes, fears and feelings as she discovered she was truly being listened to rather than judged, Gwen touched to have her daughter's confidence. It was during the quiet periods in between that she tried to sort out exactly what had happened that afternoon at Alison's apartment.

Alison... She had always been such a good girl. I would never have guessed she could be like that! She's still a good girl, the Slut admonished, she's also a healthy young woman with a young husband who have their own wants and needs. They were doing just fine keeping their private life private until you snooped. And you had a pretty good idea what you were looking for. You were hoping for Jason, and you just got more than you bargained for. 

Her invasion of their privacy, as well as seeing her own daughter like that had wracked her with guilt, but even now the it was slowly loosening its grip as she rationalized it away by agreeing it was Jason and not her daughter that she had really hoped to see. 

As the guilt lessened, a thrill combined with perhaps a sense of relief grew. To the world and even their own parents, Alison and Jason seemed like such a normal couple. But they had a secret side to them, like Natalie, and KD, and probably Al and Margaret Murphy, and, and...definitely herself. The realization that people she thought of as normal, even admirable, had their hidden desires and activities, just like her, made Gwen think of her secrets a little less like weaknesses and more like a part of being a somewhat normal, if more vulnerable, person.

There was one more quick ride up the hill the next morning before KD said her goodbyes and headed back to school. Tim left shortly after his daughter did, heading to the next town over to get a restaurant's dishwasher back on line before the dinner crowd. The house was quiet again, and Gwen ran through her afternoon's possibilities. There was work in the office, and chores around the house...Alison and Jason were due back tomorrow evening. Maybe she should check in at their place one more time to make sure they were not walking in to any unpleasant surprises? 

The Lady managed to squelch Gwen's impulsive desire for nearly an hour before she was overcome. She could feel the guilt returning and knew another look would come with a high price to pay, but her need to see if there was more to the young couple than she had already discovered was very powerful. She made a cursory sweep of the apartment upon entering, satisfying her excuse for coming in the first place, then again sat down and woke the computer. 

Soon she was deep into the saved photos, the changes in location and hair styles, both head and pubic, telling Gwen this shared hobby had started back in college and continued right into the apartment she now sat in. Many of the pictures were of Alison in various stages of dress or poses ranging from suggestive to incredibly lewd—the photographer seemed to especially like her on her back spread wide in invitation or on all fours, rear-end high in the air-- but there were more than enough of Jason in similar states to keep the entranced woman looking for more. There were pictures of them together as well, close-up action shots of his penis buried in her, or Alison using vibrators and dildos remarkably similar to her own. 

The Lady was relieved when she finally reached the end of the pictures, confident it was a good time to make their retreat and go home. Gwen closed the viewer, coming back to the folder. There was another, labeled 'home movies'; inside were several files. She hesitated only briefly before clicking. 

The video player launched, and the screen was filled a view of the camera looking down on the back of a naked woman, her hips propped up by a couple of pillows. The face was not visible, but Gwen knew it had to be Alison. A man's voice, Jason's, rumbled from behind the camera. "This is my wife's incredible ass," he announced, his free hand casually slapping a cheek before pulling it aside and further exposing the rosebud hiding between the globes. "Look at that cure little asshole. And today, I'm going to fuck that ass for the very first time." 

"C'mon, can't I pay up some other way?" a whining voice mixed with nervous laughter asked. "Maybe a blowjob?"

"A deal's a deal. I delivered on my end, and now I'm gonna deliver on your end." He laughed at his joke and slapped the cheek again for emphasis. 

Alison's nervous laughter and pleading continued. "Just go easy, okay? Stop if I say stop?" 

"You won't even know I'm there," her husband lied. The photographer shifted and laid his erection between her pale cheeks, his foreskin catching on her skin and pulling back as he slid his length forward.

"Stop!" Alison shrieked, forcing her hips down into the pillow away from him. "You can't just put it in like that." 

"I could if I pushed hard enough," Jason said with a patient laugh. "But that wouldn't be very nice, so don't worry, I've already got it covered." His body shifted again and his penis withdrew, replaced on screen by a hand holding what appeared to be a small bottle of liquid. It was liberally squirted on her crinkled muscle. 

"Don't!" she shouted again. "We should put a towel under us so we don't mess up the comforter."

Despite the situation, Gwen smiled at her daughter's practicality. 

"I'll wash it," Jason replied as the bottle disappeared off screen. The now-empty hand returned, his index finger extending to rub the oil around a bit before slowly pushing into her tight ring, up to his knuckle. 

"Easy, easy..."

His finger withdrew to the tip then slid in again, gently stroking until Alison seemed to relax a bit and take the digit without too much discomfort. "Ready for the something a little bigger?"

Alison laughed nervously. "You're a lot bigger. Bigger than my spreader, too."

Jason laughed again. "Flattery will not get you out of paying up." He shifted, lining up the tip of his exposed cock head with her puckered ring. Gwen watched in amazement as he pushed forward ever so slightly, the spongy pink helmet flattening until the muscle widened to accept at. 

"Ow-ow-ow, easy, easy..." a vibrator buzzed to life, presumably from underneath the prone woman. 

The penis slowly disappeared, reminding Gwen of a snake entering a ground squirrel's burrow in search of prey. Jason's hips finally made contact with his wife's buttocks. 

"Are you all the way in?" Alison asked, her hips beginning to twitch from the vibrator's attention despite the thing buried in her rear end.

"All the way," her husband reassured her. "Why, you want more? How's it feel?"

"I feel like I should've married somebody with a smaller cock. I also feel...full. How is it for you?"

"You're lucky it's me and not Marcus..."

"Marcus would not be allowed back there in a million years! He'd kill me!" 

Jason laughed. "You might walk funny for a while. Fuck, you're a snug fit. I always thought your pussy was so tight you could rip my dick off if you wanted to, but gawdamn, this is even tighter..."

The woman beneath him took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready if you want to keep going, but really slow, and stop if I say stop, okay?" 

"I think I'm gonna want two hands for this..." the picture bounced and rolled as Jason turned off the camera and ended the clip.

Gwen tried to process the incredibly arousing scene she had just witnessed. Alison had allowed herself to be taken back there! What kind of service had Jason performed that would make that a worthy trade? Whatever it was, her son had been seemed quite happy with the exchange and anxious to get to his part of the bargain. Could it really be that much better for him than normal lovemaking, that much more exciting? And who was Marcus? She searched her memory for an old boyfriend or acquaintance of her daughter but came up blank. Maybe she had named her dildo like Natalie had? Gwen shuddered at the thought of one of her own splitting her open back there. 

Her own feelings on the act itself were secondary to the excitement caused by witnessing it. The guilt would not be enough to make her "wait it out" this time; she needed relief. Again the Slut suggested the bed in the next room, maybe even take a look in the nightstand to see if it might contain some things to help her along. Gwen shook her head at that thought—she was not ready to do that in her daughter's bed with her daughter's things and hurried home. 

Gwen knew Tim would not be there to help her when she arrived and had already committed to taking care of things without him. He was there in her fantasy however, and she lay over the pillows she had stacked up as he roughly ordered her to show him her ass. She would never volunteer that opening to him, of course, but if he were to demand it, she would have to comply. "I want this," he announced in her imagination, and her finger was his as it toyed with her rosebud, circling and stroking, making her shiver as the nerve endings tingled and her fearful lust grew. 

"I'm going to fuck you," fantasy Tim announced, his unspoken preference clear. Gwen found her rabbit and somehow managed to slip it under her body and on to her clit. A couple of swipes from her sex back to her rosebud gave her finger the lubrication it needed to gently push in to the second knuckle as she imagined Tim groaning with pleasure while he took what was his and bulled his way in. She came, spasming around her finger as the vibrator did its work.

Tim wondered about the mound of pillows on the bed when he returned later that afternoon and headed for the shower. Gwen never left the bed unmade. He forgot all about it once she joined him under the steaming spray. 



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 20



Standard disclaimers.

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

. 

Also, this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.

*****

The pace of life only quickened in the weeks after Thanksgiving. Gwen was scheduling more appointments to make the new truck and Andrew's pay raise profitable, and the resulting paperwork as well as preparations for the holidays left her with very little spare time. Natalie had many of the same obligations her sister did, making their Friday rides temporarily unworkable. They still talked on the phone and saw each other at various holiday functions, but Gwen found herself missing their alone time, much to the Lady's disgust. 

"Hey, I'm taking the late, late shift Saturday night and Sunday morning," Natalie told her sister during one of their catch-up calls. "I'm gonna do some Christmas shopping at the outlets down in Camilla before I go in. Wanna come with me?" 

The Lady groaned. So much to do around the house, and getting out of the office has gotten almost impossible...out of the question. "Sure, why not!" Work be damned, Gwen was not going miss a chance to spend some time with her. 

"Great! Come on over about 8. You can leave your truck here and we'll take my car." 

There's going to be a lot of late nights and early mornings catching up, the Lady huffed, but knew the cause had been lost.

"Oh, and Gwen? Wear a skirt. Above the knee. The top is up to you."

"Why?"

"Just do it. See you Saturday."

***

Gwen pulled into the driveway right on time Saturday morning. Stepping down from her truck, she smoothed the skirt she had selected to fulfill Natalie's directive, one of the ones from her summer shopping excursions. It felt short and a bit too revealing, but her sister had not given her much choice, and it really didn't cause her as much discomfort as it might have just a few months ago. A long-sleeve blouse, sandals, and sensible underwear completed her outfit. 

"Gwen honey! Come on in!" Natalie called from the doorway. Her own skirt was just a fraction shorter than her sister's, but it somehow seemed more daring when paired with a tank top and knee-high black boots. 

The women hugged their greeting. "Are Adam and the kids here?"

"Your brother's at the office finishing up some paperwork. He'll be back in a bit. Tyler and Annie are still asleep. They both should be getting up soon. Annie's going to work in a couple of hours, and Tyler's got a basketball tournament over in Sasser, so Adam's taking him. C'mon in!" Natalie led the way through the living room and on into their first floor bedroom. Gwen followed, a little confused and concerned as to why they were in this part of the house, particularly with her niece and nephew upstairs. "You follow directions well," her sister continued, motioning to Gwen's skirt before reaching for and undoing the top button of her blouse. "Looks like a nice bra under there. Whatcha got on for panties?"

"Natalie! Not now! What if the kids come downstairs?"

Her sister laughed. "Relax. I don't want you to get naked. Besides, they are not exactly light-of-foot—you'd hear them clomping around up there. Anyways, they never miss a chance to sleep in." She reached under her skirt and pushed a lacy thong down to her ankles, carefully untangling them from her boots before flipping them on the bed. "Your turn."

"You can't be serious? We wouldn't have time to get dressed even if we did hear them up there!"

"That's all you have to take off. We're going shopping. Our undies are staying here. C'mon, live on the edge a little!"

"Are you crazy? The stores will be packed!"

"So keep your legs closed when you're on Santa's lap. C'mon, lose the panties!"

Gwen eyed her doubtfully and nervously checked the hallway before reaching under the fabric and shedding her cover. 

"Well, at least they're not grannies," Natalie observed with a smirk. "My, how far we've come. Leave 'em on the bed with mine."

"I'll take them with me and leave them in the car, just in case."

"Leave 'em here," Natalie insisted. "You can pick 'em up when we get back."

"But somebody might see them here, and what if I need them?"

"You won't need them, and they'll just think they're mine." Natalie wondered if that was quite true. Annie would guess they were still a little too conservative for her mother—they did enough laundry and raided each other's lingerie drawers to know the other's tastes—and she wondered if Adam knew her preferences as well. He certainly was very attentive when she was taking them off..."Leave them."

She groaned and laid them on the bed. 

"You can keep the bra for now," her sister teased. "Ready?"

Gwen spent the next 3 hours in a delicious mix of emotions, her bare sex wet at the thought of being so close to on display for the unsuspecting holiday shoppers while she nervously anticipated the moment Natalie might decide the bra had to be surrendered as well. Her sister seemed to have forgotten all about their not-completely clothed state, however, searching for the must-have items she had listed on the drive down. 

Natalie stopped short in front of a shoe store. "You like my boots?"

Gwen looked down, then back at her fellow shopper. "Yes, they're very nice."

"Adam likes it when I wear them...and nothing else," she said mischievously. "Do you ever wear your riding boots for Tim? Maybe pair them up with a riding crop?" 

"I've never worn them for anything but riding," Gwen mumbled, looking around nervously for eavesdroppers. "And what would we do with a riding crop?"

"Aren't they for getting whatever you're riding moving faster?" Natalie asked with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile. "C'mon," she said, taking Gwen's arm. "You should try on some boots." 

"I've got riding boots," she protested, but allowed herself to be led in anyways. Natalie plopped her down on a bench, Gwen carefully keeping her knees together while her sister attracted the attention of a young clerk. 

"Excuse me, sir? My friend would like to try a pair of these—" Natalie grabbed a black vinyl model and offered it up. 

The clerk took the boot and smiled politely at Gwen. "Of course. What size and width would you like?" 

She looked up at the young man, his close cropped blonde hair matching his trimmed beard. "Uhh, 5 I guess? Normal width?" 

The clerk replaced the sample and hurried away "Nice ass," Natalie whispered in Gwen's ear, and she was compelled to look and agree. He returned shortly, putting the box on the bench by Gwen's side and waiting for her to try them on. 

"Excuse me—be right back," he offered as she took the first boot out, hurrying off towards another customer without waiting for a reply. "Damn nice ass," Natalie again murmured in her ear as Gwen struggled to get her foot in. "Wonder what the other side looks like filled out some. When he comes back, ask him to check the fit. Don't keep your legs together so much. Let's see if we can help him stand up a little."

"I can't—"

"Just do it. He won't mind." Natalie straightened and pretended to look at another pair of boots as the young man returned. 

"How's the fit?"

"I'm uh, not sure, especially in the toe..."

"Let me see." He kneeled and Gwen moved her leg toward him a little more than necessary while keeping the other still. "It feels like you have a little room at the end," he said, pushing a thumb into the pliant material, "is it tight on the sides?" The clerk's eyes came up to meet Gwen's but stopped at the dimly lit passage formed by her slightly-spread thighs. He had become practiced at this move, checking skirts and shorts for anything that shouldn't be seen, even succeeding a few times before reminding himself to focus on the job at hand instead of the prospect of seeing an attractive MILF's underwear.

"Maybe a little."

"Okay, so sounds like the size is good, but maybe a wide instead of a normal?"

Gwen looked up at Natalie for direction while the young man risked another look under her drawn-up skirt, certain her panty-covered pussy would be plainly visible if only thighs were spread a little ...

"Wider," the well-built blonde suggested. 

The young man looked up in panic. "I'll, uhh, go get the same size in a wide," he stammered, quickly standing and hurrying away, thankful to have avoided the potential unpleasantries of getting caught ogling a treasure cave.

"You certainly got someone's attention," Natalie murmured. "Why don't you reward this nice young man for his efforts and give him a better look?"

"You're crazy!" Gwen hissed as the clerk hurried back, but her left foot moved even further in his direction. 

"5 wide," the clerk announced, quickly kneeling at her feet to help, all of the other customers now forgotten. "I'm surprised the 5 normal didn't fit, though. You seem to have such delicate feet. They must make this boot narrow."

Gwen continued to move her leg further away from the other as she pretended to struggle while sliding her foot into the vinyl tube, wondering how far would be enough to satisfy Natalie without making her intent obvious to the young man at her feet.

Natalie stifled a chuckle as the clerk discretely glanced between his customer's spread knees while bending to check the width and length of the boot's toe. The young man briefly hesitated before daring to put a finger inside the top of the boot to check for the fit there, casually hooking his finger inside the cuff and tugging the leg inside further away from its partner. "How's that feel? It won't chafe against your calf?"

"Umm, good, I guess..." Gwen looked up at her sister for further direction while the clerk again took her distraction as his opportunity. The light was dim under her skirt, but there was enough to see all the way to the junction of her thighs. It took his brain a second to accept the fact he was not looking at a swatch of fabric, but rather a bare cleft crowned with a tuft of hair pouting back at him. He stared for several seconds before tearing his eyes from the display and looking up at the blonde standing behind the seated woman. 

Natalie smiled down at him and winked. He blushed furiously and began to intently repack the first box as his tormentor continued to look at him while addressing the woman he was kneeling before. "I don't know...I think shiny vinyl makes you look like a cheap hooker. And you're definitely not cheap. Polished black leather is probably more your style. Much more elegant and serious. And like you said, you already have riding boots and a matching crop, so maybe those would be better for whatever you're riding." 

Gwen's cheeks quickly matched the complexion of the young man at her feet. The crop was her idea, she wanted to retort to the clerk, but managed to limit her response. "Thank you for your help," she stammered, attempting to remove the boot while closing her legs. "I think that will be all." 

The clerk struggled to his feet and furiously began shuffling boxes. "Uh, thank you very much for coming in," he said, not looking up. "Hope to see you again." The young man finally glanced up at Natalie, wondering if his indiscretion was to be made public. She winked and smiled again, making his cheeks turn crimson. 

Natalie held her laughter until they were safely in the car. "That was so hot! I can't believe you did it!" 

"Well, you said I should," Gwen countered defensively. "And I doubt he even tried to look. He seemed like such a nice young man. The last thing he probably wants to see is an old woman's privates." 

"Okay, a few things," Natalie managed to get out while still laughing. "First, he looked. He got a really good look, and probably would have kept looking if he hadn't gotten scared that one of us was going to bust him for looking. Second, he's a guy, and even nice guys will do crazy things to get a peek in the cookie jar. They're hard wired to do that and you know it. Third, you're not old, and you have the pussy of a twenty-year old. That guy is probably going to get all sorts of stroke mileage out of yours." 

Natalie waited a few miles before speaking again. "You did like it, right? I mean, it's not the first time you've shown off for a guy."

"I don't show off! I just, uhh, give a peek sometimes. And every time I do I end up feeling really guilty. It's wrong to do that. It's so perverted, not normal."

"You say perverted like it's a bad thing. I keep telling you, normal's whatever you decide normal is. If it's fun and isn't hurting anyone else, then go for it! I don't think Mr. Shoe Salesman minded in the slightest! A nice way to break up a day of whiny customers!"

"I'm not so sure. Part of me still has a hard time with doing things like-that."

"Then we're making progress!" Natalie laughed. "Last spring, all of you would have had a hard time with that!"

They drove on for several more miles in silence, Gwen lost in her thoughts, the Lady steadily losing ground to the Slut's arousal-fueled imagination.

Natalie seemed to read her mind. "Did it make you horny? I know how I get when I do stuff like that. Hell, you were the one showing off and now I'm all worked up."

"A little," Gwen admitted. "So if it gets you excited, why didn't you, um, try on some shoes, too?"

"I thought about it, but I was a lot more fun watching you. Guess I'm an exhibitionist AND a voyeur." 

Gwen turned to the driver, her excitement overcoming her inhibition. "There's something I wanted to ask you." 

"Of course. Shoot."

"When you and Adam do it...well, you know, him from behind, do you like it?"

Natalie smiled. "What, doggystyle? Hell yeah! I love a good pounding sometimes, and he really gets some leverage that way."

"No, I mean..." Gwen could feel the blush heating up her cheeks again—"when you let him in the other way." 

"Ohhh, that. Well, it's not my favorite, but he really seems to like it, so I'm happy to oblige him from time to time. Makes a great stocking stuffer coupon." Natalie grinned, still looking ahead at the traffic. "That's quite a leap from giving a guy a little look. Why do you ask? Is Tim asking to come down the back chimney for Christmas?"

Gwen dismissed the image of Jason preparing Alison for his invasion, only for it to be replaced with another of her naked brother pushing his way into Natalie. "No, he hasn't asked for that. I just got to wondering what the big deal is? It doesn't seem like it's very pleasant for the woman. Does it really feel that much better than normal intercourse for a man?"

"It's probably tighter back there than your average cooch, so there's that, but I think for the guy, it's the idea of what they're doing more than actually doing it—it's like they're doing something they shouldn't be, like they're getting away with something, I think. Anything that isn't straight baby-making missionary is kinda exciting cuz' it's not considered proper, so the farther from the norm it is, the wilder it is. And I have to guess putting their dick in there is pretty high up the restricted list to them. Don't get me wrong—some women like it. I know Liz is a fan under the right circumstances. Other women like it some, and some don't like it at all. Me, I'm okay with it—I just pile up some pillows and make myself comfortable, put a vibrator under me, sometimes a dildo in the more traditional place, and let Adam go to town. I've got him pretty well trained not to get too energetic. And yeah, I gotta admit I get a kick out of doing something high on the naughty list, too. Between the vibrator and the dildo and Adam enjoying himself I usually come without too much problem."

Gwen pondered her sister's words, turning them over in her mind, remembering the buzzing noise in Alison's video. Was the vibrator trick something women just knew? She certainly wouldn't have thought of that. "Did you ever do it with someone else?"

"No, your brother was the first and still the only. I mean, my girlfriends and I played around back there every once in a while, but nothing bigger than a finger. Liz will have me put a vibrator back there on her from time to time, but I haven't asked her to return the favor."

"So how did you start doing it...that way?"

Adam asked if he could one night, but I put him off until I was comfortable with idea and was fairly sure I could take him without being miserable. So, I started practicing, getting used to it."

"How in the world do you practice something like that?"

"I asked Liz, and she told me to get a spreader and start with that, to get used to having something back there—sorry, most people call them butt plugs, but I like spreader because that's what I imagined it was doing. She helped me pick one out and did the honors for me the first time I tried it. It wasn't that bad—just need to use plenty of lube."

Natalie continued to speak, her eyes still on the road. "'Lube and patience are even more important when you're trying to put the real thing back there. I remember in college one of my roommates had her boyfriend in her bedroom. They were going at it and she had been letting him work a finger in back there. Well, he decided that if his finger fit, so would his dick, so he tried a sneak attack. I guess he made it far enough to hurt and she let out a scream like she was being murdered! We heard every word of what she was yelling at him about, and then 5 minutes later he had to do the walk of shame past us out the door. So, if Tim's not looking for another way in, why the sudden interest in the back passage? Are you thinking about experimenting a little?"

"No, no," Gwen said emphatically. "I just, umm, overheard someone talking about it and wondered what all the fascination with it was."

"Let me guess—one of your employees, right?"

"Yes," Gwen lied.

"Of course it was. Told you, guys are fascinated with it. It's like some sort of men's badge of honor to put it in your girlfriend's ass. Aaand, we're home."

Natalie pulled into the driveway and shut of the engine. "C'mon in. I got something to show ya."

"Just for a minute," Gwen said, unbuckling her seatbelt, wondering if the conditions were right for perhaps more than a minute. "I have to collect my underwear anyways, remember?" 

"Oh, I haven't forgotten. By the way, Adam texted me—Tyler's team keeps winning, so they'll be at the tournament for a while yet," Natalie said over her shoulder as she led the way to the bedroom. Gwen saw her panties lying on the bed, but not where she had left them that morning, her pair now to the right of Natalie's. She wondered who had moved them and why while Natalie opened the hope chest at the end of the bed. 

Gwen glanced at the contents of the chest and could plainly see several vibrators and dildos as well as other paraphernalia inside. "You keep your things there?" 

"Sure," Natalie said, taking out a small purple velvet bag. "Easy access when wanted."

"Aren't you worried Annie and Tyler might find them?" 

"We used to put them on the top shelf of the closet," Natalie replied, "But once they got old enough to stand on a chair, we thought that was dumb and just told them not to snoop if they didn't want to find things they didn't want to see. They probably did anyways, but they don't seem too emotionally scarred. We don't flaunt it, but I'm sure they've guessed Mom and Dad still have an active and varied sex life." 

She opened the bag and let what appeared to be a stainless-steel tulip bloom with a glass drawer pull on one end slide onto her palm. "My first spreader," she announced as she offered it to Gwen. "It helped me get brave enough to take bigger things. Here, take it—don't worry, it gets thoroughly cleaned after each use."




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 20



Gwen delicately grasped the object between two fingers, surprised at how solid and heavy the object was. "Do you still use it?"

"Sure! Change of pace, you know? I've worn it to Sunday dinner at your parents," she said with a sly grin. "There's a special thrill to listening to your mother rant about the loose morals of the young people at the firm while her own daughter is standing in front of her wearing a butt plug."

"You can't be serious! I never knew! When!? Were Tim and I there?"

"A few times, and yes, you were there. Of course you didn't know. No one ever knew. Well, except for Adam. I'd tell him before we left the house. It really turned him on." 

"But isn't it uncomfortable?"

"Not really. Other than a tickling sensation against your asshole, you kind of forget it's there after a while. When you get one, make sure it has a handle or something like that, something to keep it from sliding all the way in. You want a way to pull it back out. You won't believe how many people who come into the emergency room with something stuck up there. We had a guy come in with a Barbie head stuck up there once—he pushed poor Barbie in up to her skinny little waist and her head snapped off her body."

"Incredible," Gwen said breathlessly, gingerly turning the plug over while she examined it. "But that won't be a problem for me. I'm very sure this is not on my Christmas wish list."

"You sure? You might like the results. I'll bet Tim would." Natalie held it by the base and presented it to Gwen. "Want to try it?"

"Thanks, but I'm not putting that in me. A little too scary."

"The woman who is fearless around lawyers and one-ton animals is scared of a little metal fill-me-up? Try it now, and if you're not completely satisfied, return it in thirty days for a complete refund. Get undressed and I'll help you." 

"Most riding horses don't weigh a ton," Gwen sniffed. "Besides, I'm sure Adam and the kids will be back soon, and that seeing that would definitely scar all of them."

"Adam and Tyler are at the tournament, and Annie's working. You'll be home before they're back. C'mon, you're going to do this."

Gwen groaned and began removing her shoes. What was it, she wondered, that made her feel the need to treat Natalie's requests as commands? She had never been one to accept dares or do what "all the cool kids were doing;" she could say no at any time, call a halt to the game, go home and have proper marital sex with her husband to relieve the itch. The desire to give her sister this control was troubling, exciting, and strangely liberating. 

Natalie grinned. "Be right back," she called, hurrying to the bathroom, returning as Gwen was undoing the clasp of her bra. The skirt was next and she stood there naked. Her nudity next to her sister's still-clothed state removed any last sense of control over the situation.

"Aren't you going to get undressed, too?"

"Maybe in a minute. Get on all fours on the bed," Natalie quickly directed. "Point your ass at me where I can reach your butt."

Gwen propped herself on hands and knees, her legs spread slightly while her pert breasts hung beneath her. She felt somewhat ridiculous in this pose, but could also feel the surge of excitement at being displayed much like she was in her dreams.

"Head and shoulders on the bed, put your ass high in the air like Tim's about to plow you good." The naked woman assumed the pose, laying her head on the comforter in such a way that she could still see what was going on behind her out of the corner of her eye. "You've got such a cute little asshole," Natalie giggled, and Gwen startled at the feel of a finger gently circling it. "Sorry, didn't mean to surprise you like that," she continued, her voice taking on the soft reassuring tone of a caring nurse. "I'm going to apply some lube first. It might feel a little cold, but it'll warm up quickly. Ready?"

Gwen nodded and the first squirt of oil landed squarely in the valley between her spread cheeks. The feeling was not unlike what she imagined Tim's ejaculation might feel like if it were chilled rather than scalding hot, and the liquid warmed as quickly as her husband's semen cooled. "I'm going to spread it around some," Natalie quietly announced, and the finger began to push the slick rivulets towards her crinkled muscle. "Try to relax and not tense up." A finger began to push ever so gently into her passage, meeting the same resistance it had that time Natalie had inserted it in the shower, the lubrication easing the way now as the soap and water had then. The finger retreated, gathering more oil, then returned. It didn't stop at the first knuckle this time like that day in the shower; instead pushing slowly until the knuckles on either side of the digit pushed against the flesh of her cheeks. Gwen felt herself gripping the intruder tightly even as it began a slow back and forth motion, trying to close and return to its normal state. After a moment, the finger withdrew and Gwen could see her reach for the shiny cylinder.

"The lube might get a little messy the first few times you use it, until you know exactly how much you need. I don't use much at all any more. And it doesn't hurt to lube up the spreader too, at least until you get used to using it," Natalie advised softly. "Either way, hold it in your hand for a little bit to warm up the metal before putting it in. You ready?"

Gwen nodded again, closing her eyes tightly against the expected shock. She felt the rounded tip of the invader pressed against her ring. "Stop! Wait!" she cried, still squeezing her eyes shut in an effort to gird herself against the pain. "Go slow, okay? And you'll stop if I tell you to?"

"Slow. Stop. Got it. Ready?" Natalie answered in her best 'this won't hurt a bit' voice. She took the lack of a response as a yes and began to push again. 

Gwen could feel herself being stretched open—spread'er, get it? The Slut chose this time to joke—past the point where her muscle had flexed to accommodate Natalie's finger. She imagined it looked just like what she had seen on the video, her own puckered ring expanding every bit as much as her daughter's had. She continued to open and accept the tapered intruder as it flared towards it maximum circumference. It wasn't unbearably uncomfortable yet, and she wondered how much more she would allow herself to be stretched before calling a halt. Gwen knew her son was bigger than the thing in her now—how had Alison done it? And then her rosebud contracted, sliding slid down the other side of the bulb to clench around the narrow base supporting the drawer pull. 

"It's in," Natalie announced. "How does it feel?" 

Gwen could feel a washcloth cleaning up the excess oil, Natalie brushing up against the knob protruding from her and exciting the nerve endings of her rosebud. "Alright, I guess. It's hard to believe anything bigger would ever fit, though."

"Bigger things do fit," Natalie corrected, "there are some guys I was with before your brother I would not in a million years let anywhere near my ass. But, Adam's just about average, according to the studies. So he gets to visit from time to time. Tim's about average, right?"

"I don't know, I guess," Gwen admitted. "What's average?"

"How long is he?"

"He's never told me." 

Natalie laughed. "Oh, never trust a guy to tell you the truth when it comes to cock size. If you want to know, you've got see and measure for yourself. There are definitely some guys that could give our dildos a run for their money, but they're pretty rare when compared to the average man's dick." Gwen twitched as a finger was slowly drawn down her sex and over her clitoris. "Wow, you're really wet." Natalie playfully slapped the naked rear. "Get up. Take it for a test walk." 

Gwen gingerly eased off the bed and stood, unsure what to expect. She definitely knew there was something in her, but it was not painful, and not uncomfortable to the point of wanting to pluck the intruder from her clenched opening. It certainly didn't feel like it had any intention of falling out on its own...Her first steps towards the bathroom were hesitant, both for the feelings they might produce as well as the idea of being on display for her sister. The movement produced an almost pleasant tickling sensation, 

"If Mr. Shoe Salesman could see you now!" Gwen reached the bathroom door and turned, Natalie still watching as she casually stripped. The blond flopped chest-first on the bed after grabbing a bright-green rabbit vibrator from where it was stored.

"Feel alright?" she asked, looking up at Gwen with a grin. 

"I guess," Gwen admitted. "Can I take it out now?" 

"Leave it in a little while, see how long it takes you to really get used to it. C'mon, lie down for a bit."

Gwen cautiously climbed on the bed, stretching out even as Natalie reversed positions so her head was at Gwen's feet. "Lemme show ya how Liz helped me like it better," she said with a giggle. Sit on my chest."

"Like the way we are now?" Gwen asked, raising her head to look past the face at her feet and to the open door beyond. If anyone came home now and saw this...she shivered at the thought. 

"Yup." She lightly patted her flattened mounds of breast flesh. "C'mon, up you get." 

She hesitantly put her leg over Natalie, holding back from settling her full weight on her sister's chest. Natalie lightly pushed Gwen's shoulder forward until she was on all fours over the body below her, her sex close enough to the prone woman's face to feel her breath against her wetness. She was able to see her sister-in-law's cleft below her, and she took Natalie's push as a cue to dip and kiss it. 

Her movement was blocked by a forearm against the front of her thigh, pulling her back until a pair of lips kissed her sex, followed by a tongue gently dragged along its slit. The tongue retreated and the vibrator was pressed against her opening. Gwen could swear she could feel the buzzing length slide along the spreader as it entered, the two separated by only a thin layer of tissue, making the stainless steel vibrate.. The ears of the rabbit made contact with the skin separating her two openings and the tongue returned, teasing and tickling while fingers gently toyed with the spreader, rotating it in place and sliding it in and out. Gwen shivered at the vibrations of the rabbit through the metal bullet as Natalie withdrew it a bit to open her rosebud and then let it swallow it again to recapture the stem. The assault on the nerve endings of her clit and both holes was too much to bear for long. 

She came, dimly aware of grinding her crotch into Natalie's face before her arms gave out and she collapsed on the body beneath her, her cheek resting on her sister's mons. She was coming to her senses as the vibrator was being pulled out, the buzzing head dragging along the short length of the spreader one more time as it withdrew. She again trembled at the sensation.

"Sorry," Gwen apologized, raising her head and mustering the strength to push herself off Natalie's midsection. "I must weigh a ton."

"You're light as a feather compared to some bodies I've had on me. But as long as you're there..." two fingers delicately pushed on the back of Gwen's head while the legs below opened wide to present the glistening lips at their junction. 

Gwen used her returning strength to shuffle forward just a bit to improve her angle of attack as well as remove her own crotch from Natalie's face. Gwen could still feel the woman's breath on her wet sex as she began to push her tongue into her sister's folds, excited by the taste of her slick arousal. The feel of Natalie's hand brushing her thigh as she fondled her own breast did not startle her, but she was surprised and pleased by the other hand again toying with the spreader still in her. She continued to kiss and lick until the woman beneath hugged her tightly to her body and moaned out her orgasm. 

The two women were having a glass of wine at the kitchen table when Adam and Tyler returned. Her husband's senses alerted to something familiar, yet somehow different as he bent to kiss his wife. Familiar became plain to him after he planted a light peck on Gwen's cheek and picked up the scent of his wife's arousal. Adam looked across the table to Natalie with a questioning look, to which she replied with a smile and a shrug.

The scent was fainter but still there when Tim kissed his wife upon her return home that afternoon. He too had trouble consciously identifying it, but his body had no such problems and reacted by calling his cock to stand-by mode. The rest of his brain quickly caught on, the thought of the likely method by which she had obtained the heady perfume fueling his lust.

"Good day shopping?" he asked, taking her in his arms, bringing the intoxicating aroma close again. 

"Mm-hmm."

"Did you two, uh, do something after?"

Gwen looked up at him, knowing that he knew. "Yes. Sorry. We, umm, well, you know..."

"You don't have to apologize," he said as his hands found her rear end and gently squeezed. "Just wondering if you might have something left for me?"

"I will always have something for you," she said firmly, looking up at him, her eyes clearly communicating the seriousness of her words. "You can have whatever you want, whenever you want. "Just tell me what you want and I will do it." 

Tim chuckled, unsure what that all meant exactly. He decided to figure it out later and settled on what he wanted right now. Callused hands began to pull the skirt up so he could make better contact with the ass beneath. "Well, now that you mention it..."

Gwen gently pushed away from him. "Just let me use the bathroom first, okay?" She hurried down the hall and into the master bath without waiting for answer, quietly closing the door behind her. She pushed her panties off for the second time that day, then bent over the vanity and gingerly removed the stainless steel bulb she had carried home inside of her at Natalie's insistence. It was thoroughly cleaned then stored safely out of sight in her travel toiletries bag before she stripped down to bare skin and returned to the kitchen. 

"Sorry about that," she asked, turning the corner, "so, what can I do for you?" 

Much to Gwen's pleasure, Tim did not ask politely.



A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 21



Standard disclaimers.

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

. 

Also, this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental. 

*****

Christmas and New Year's came and went; the holidays really no different than years past other than Gwen wondering if Natalie and her brother might be playing another game nobody knew they were playing at Christmas dinner. The small gift Natalie slipped into Gwen's purse during dinner at the Currans was also new, and. she didn't find it until the morning after, wisely deciding to unwrap it in private to discover a larger version of the spreader currently in her toiletries bag. A bottle of lubrication was included, and a note as well:

Next up on the size chart! Give it a try. Let me know if you need help.

Love, N

The gift was hurriedly stashed with its little brother, The Lady huffing about the impropriety of a Christmas gift like that, the Slut reviewing the calendar for a quiet time when it might be more closely examined. 

The guilt and embarrassment Gwen still felt whenever she talked with Alison and Jason had begun to fade somewhat, the couple evidently none the wiser to the invasion of their privacy. Still, her mother would occasionally have snippets of what she had seen slip in to her thoughts uninvited as they visited, the Lady aghast at the memory of her naked son and what he had done to her daughter. The Slut took these moments to remind her counterpart that Alison had seemed to be a very willing partner...

There had been no doubt in Gwen's mind that Cricket was to be included in their holiday plans as well, but she had been pleased to hear the young woman would be spending the holiday week with her mother, willing to trade time spent listening to advice on how to land the right man for time spent with Marvin. 

She waited a couple of days after Cricket was due to return home before calling, not wishing to pester the girl, and hoping she would call first. When no call came, she broke down and dialed. 

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" Gwen asked after pleasantries had been exchanged. 

"Yeah." The tone made it sound like anything but nice. 

"Uh-oh, that doesn't sound good."

"No, not good." 

"Oh, dear. Want to talk about it?"

"No, that's alright." 

Gwen could sense her reply was not the truth. "Well, why don't you come over to ride this weekend to take your mind off of whatever it is? I know Dancer isn't Marvin, but he really seems to respond to you. Maybe you could come out Saturday morning and spend the weekend?"

"I...I..." the woman on the other end of the line broke down, sobbing. 

"Cricket, good heavens, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said, trying to pull herself together. "I, uh, my mother and, and husband number four are moving to Los Angeles."

"Oh, I see," Gwen said softly, "I'm sorry to hear that. But at least they'll just be a flight or two away? You can visit them out there, right?"

"It's not that," Cricket answered, breaking into tears again. "It's...they don't want to pay for Marvin's boarding fees any more. They want me to sell him!"

"Oh Cricket, that's terrible! What—"

"I told her they could keep track of every penny they spend and I'll pay them back when I can, but they want to make a fresh start out there and are getting rid of everything out here. Even my horse," she sobbed. "My mother said I need to get serious about my life, and that I should concentrate on finding a husband and this might be the wakeup call I need!"

Something in Gwen broke. She could feel the young woman's agony over the prospect of losing her trusted companion; she wasn't going to let it happen. Please forgive me Tim, I'll make it up to you, she thought before interrupting. "Cricket, I'll do it."

The crying woman stopped short, confused. "Huh? Do what? What do you mean?" 

"I'll pay for Marvin's room and board and you can pay me back later." 

"Oh, uh, Gwen that's nice of you-really, really nice of you-but I can't do that. You've already given me too much."

"I'm not giving you anything. Like you said, I'll keep track and you'll pay me back."

"But it gets so expensive, and I don't know how long it will take to pay you...maybe my mother's right. I should just get serious about my life, find a man to take care of me and settle down."

"Stop that," Gwen insisted, plowing ahead. "You're not the kind that needs someone to take care of them. Look, we can make this cheaper for you by bringing him up here. We've got empty stalls, you can use one free of charge, so all you would have to pay for is feed and vet care, when you can."

"Gwen, that's so incredibly nice of you, but I can't. Maybe my mother's right and I should just be a grown up about this. It's not fair to Marvin anyways, only seeing me every once in a while."

"You are already very grown up and you'll settle down when it's right for you. And if Marvin's up here, closer to you, I'm willing to bet he'll see you a lot more."

There was a silence save for some sniffling, and Gwen could sense Cricket's resolve weakening. "But how would we get him here? It would be so expensive to trailer him up."

"We've got a couple of trailers here. We hitch up the smaller one to my truck and drive down Saturday, load him up and bring him back Sunday." The Lady was dismayed at how quickly she seemed to be thinking on the fly and making decisions, scolding her for her recklessness.

"I don't know..." 

Gwen pushed forward. "We'll go this weekend." 

"I'll pay you back every dime Gwen, I promise, every dime...don't you wasn't ask Tim first?"

"I'll talk it over with him tonight. He'll be fine. So be here early Saturday morning. I'm guessing about an eight hour drive."

The young woman sniffled, sensing the way out that was being offered, her cautious nature making her wonder if there was a catch. Of course there's a catch, her cynical side sneered. But what's the alternative? Sell him? "This is a loan, not a gift, right? You'll keep track of everything I owe you?"

"Every dime. You call and tell them to get the paperwork ready because he's leaving on Sunday." 

***

Tim rolled his eyes and shook his head at the news, smiling his acceptance good-naturedly and asking her to consult with him before accepting any more applicants at the Nelson Acres for Wayward Horses. His understanding was amply rewarded at bedtime.

Cricket arrived even earlier than they had agreed Saturday morning, her nerves and excitement obvious to the Nelsons as she stowed her small duffel bag behind the seat of the truck. Tim kissed his wife goodbye with an admonishment to "be careful", and they were off. 

The young woman chirped excitedly as they drove, recounting stories of what made Marvin such a wonderful horse, looking forward to having him in her life again. Gwen let her talk, smiling and nodding patiently at the retelling of Cricket's tales, happy to see her so happy. 

Eventually she lapsed into silence, drawing her legs up against her and hugging them as she stared at the road, obviously deep in thought. 

Gwen glanced at her before returning her attention to the road. "Everything alright?"

"Oh, sorry. Yes." She maintained her drawn-in pose for several miles before speaking again. "Why me?"

Gwen smiled. "Why you what?" 

The young woman seemed flustered. She hesitated again, looking at the driver, then back towards the highway, then back to her. "Why are you being so nice to me? I'm sorry—that was rude—I have no right to ask that—I'm sorry. I'm just not good around people. One of my school progress reports said I was 'socially inept'. I don't think I was supposed to see that."

The older woman laughed gently. "You're fine. I appreciate bluntness. And I guess it's my turn to be sorry. I don't have much experience in this whole 'friend' thing. I'm sorry if I'm overdoing it."

"It's not that," Cricket said uncomfortably. "It's just that nobody's ever been this nice to me. My mother thinks you want something from me. I saw how she got two of her husbands so I guess she's got some experience in making trades. I'm sorry, I just don't have a lot of experience in the whole friends thing either, and I'm worried this is all too good to be true. I know what to expect with horses. People, not so much." The young woman continued to stare ahead, hugging her legs. 

"It's alright. I can be pretty cynical about people, too. I was even more cynical until last summer when—well, when I made a friend who showed me that it's alright to occasionally trust other people and let them see your human side. I guess you could say she showed me a new way of seeing things. 

When I met you at the photo studio and you mentioned how much you missed riding, I got brave and decided a fellow horse lover couldn't be all bad. I also knew how much I would miss riding if I couldn't, so I thought you might like a chance to ride, and then as we got to know each other I found out how nice a person you really are. And then it just seemed like you could use some help from someone who was in a position to help. I'm sorry if I overdid it. Like I said, I'm still learning this whole friend thing." 

"You've been a godsend," Cricket said quietly. "I don't know what I would have done without you. I still can't believe anybody would ever do what you did for a stranger. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have. I have a really hard time trusting people, especially after Daniel." 

"You're tough and you're smart, so being cynical is probably part of your survival skills. I get that—I always thought it was me—well, me and Tim—against the world. But I'm starting to understand that sometimes exposing just a little vulnerability can be a really scary and worthwhile thing to do. I think it's one of things my friend has been teaching me without me even knowing it. She's sneaky that way. I understand if you don't trust me, though."

"I do trust you, more than anybody else I know, and you're right, it's really scary. So, thank you?"

"You're welcome."

The young woman seemed to relax a bit, unfolding her limbs, not so deep in thought. Still, only the hum of the tires filled the cab of the truck for quite some time. 

"And thank you again for the Christmas gifts, especially the socks and underwear," the young woman said quietly as she looked down at her hands in her lap.

"Sorry that's such a boring present, but I figured you might need a fresh supply given your current financial condition." 

"You were right about that," Cricket laughed quietly. "I was getting to the point where I was considering going commando a couple of days a week to save on wear and tear on my remaining pairs."

"Commando?"

The young woman blushed. "Oh, uh, you know, no underwear."

Gwen smiled. "Ahh. Commando." 

Cricket spoke again after a couple of moments. "I, umm, also want to really thank you for the neck massager...and the other things. They really help with, you know, stress relief." 

The older woman grinned. "Good! I'm glad you're using them. I was worried they might have been offensive."

"No—oh God, no! Like I said, it was the most unusual gift I've ever gotten—even stranger than the financial calculator Daniel gave me on our wedding night—but yours are a lot more useful! They're making me wonder if I ever really need a man for...that." 

Gwen smiled. "I think you'll find having the right man—or a woman, if that's your thing—for that is even better. The toys are just a nice way to complement that when you're ready for it." 

"Wait—you don't think I might be a Lesbian, do you?" Cricket asked quickly. "I mean, I'm not—I like guys, I'm just not ready to deal with one right now!"

"Sorry-sorry," Gwen replied. "I didn't mean to imply that at all. My turn to not be good with people, I guess. I was just saying that if you were inclined that way, that would be alright, too. Just leave yourself open to the possibility that a man or a woman may come into your life someday. There's nothing wrong with either, or both. I can honestly say that Tim is the best thing that ever happened to me, but women can have something to offer, too." She saw the sign for a rest stop up ahead and pulled over to exit. "And now, young lady, if the parking lot is empty enough, you are going to get your first lesson in how to tow and back up a horse trailer."

***

Gwen was satisfied enough with her student's progress that she insisted Cricket take the next driving shift despite her protestations. The two women took their time going down, not in any hurry to get there as the plan was to a good night's sleep before heading to the stables early the next morning and returning home. The drivers switched off every couple of hours, their occasional conversation lapsing into more mundane topics such as the roadside farms and attractions they were passing, Gwen thankful her passenger had not seemed to taken slight to the unintended inference as to her sexuality. She was at the wheel when she pulled it into the motel's parking lot early that evening. 

Gwen hopped out of the cab and looked at her friend. "Coming in?"

"I didn't book a room. I thought I'd save some money and sleep in the truck tonight. Would it be alright if I use your bathroom?"

"You are not sleeping in the truck! I wouldn't have expected you to get a room—I booked one with twin queens, if you don't mind sharing." 

Cricket's eyes brightened at the prospect of a soft bed. "Alright, but only if you put half the room on my tab."

"I have to pay for it whether you're in it or not," Gwen pointed out, tactfully ignoring why she needed a room in south Florida in the first place. "C'mon. Grab your bag." They freshened up before taking a half-mile walk down the road to a chain restaurant, Gwen refusing the young woman's offer to pay for dinner before agreeing to "add her half to the boarding bill." The older woman did insist on paying for a bottle of wine they drank to celebrate a horse and rider's reunion, and Cricket was in high spirits as they started their walk back. 

The alcohol made Cricket bold enough to ask the question she had been turning over in her head since the first rest stop. "Gwen," she finally said slowly, "you can tell me it's none of my business, and I'm sure it's not, but...you make it sound like...back in the truck this morning, almost like, you've had some experience with, uhh, well, somebody other than Tim?" 

Gwen was quiet for a moment, finally asking slowly, "what is it you want to know?" 

Cricket stared down at the sidewalk. "Well, I got the impression Tim was the only man you've ever been with, right?"

"Right."

"So, it kind of sounded like in the truck you know what it's like to be with a woman?"

Stonewall, shut up, lie, don't you dare say a word, the Lady hissed. The Slut just sat back and smiled, feeling the effect of the drink. "Cricket, if I tell you something, you have to promise to never say a word to anybody. Can you do that?"

The young woman continued to walk as she twisted her upper body to face her companion. "What? Yes, of course!"

"Are you sure you want to know? Once you hear it, you can't unhear it."

"I'm sure—if you really want to tell me. If you don't, I understand."

Gwen again hesitated. Last chance for secrecy. "I've been with two women."

The young woman's face reflected the shock even though she had guessed what was coming. "Like, in a relationship? A total relationship?"

Gwen could guess what she meant by 'total'. "Not exactly. The first one was when I was young and naïve, and was purely physical." Close enough, the Slut agreed. "

"And what about the second one?" 

"It's hard to describe...not a relationship like what I have with Tim...more like a friendship that sometimes has a physical side to it."

Gwen had the young woman's undivided attention. "And were these before you met Tim?"

"The first one was, yes. She and I stopped...doing that...after Tim and I met. The second one...well, the second one started last summer." 

Cricket grabbed her arm and stopped them both. "Oh my God! Wait! Gwen, are you cheating on Tim?"

"No! Tim knows about it, and he's alright with it," she said slowly, trying to show more calm than she felt. "He knows I love him, and this friend—well, we're just friends who like to give each other physical as well as emotional comfort." She shrugged and smiled apologetically. 

Cricket's hand still grasped Gwen's arm, her face still showing the shock of the revelation. "So, you two are friends with benefits?"

"I've never heard it put that way, but yes, I guess that's one way of putting it." 

"I used to hear some of the girls I rode with referring to some of the guys they hung around with as friends with benefits, and a couple of them would throw out hints that some of the other girls had a friends with benefits thing going on with girls," Cricket explained. "And the second guy I went to bed with asked me if I wanted to be his fuckbuddy—sorry, not a very nice word- after he finished. I figured that's what he meant and told him I'd think about it, but I never talked to him again."

"I suppose that's another term for it, but I like friends with benefits more, or better yet, just friends."

The women started walking again. "Fair enough. And Tim really does know about this?"

"He does," Gwen insisted, "and my friend's husband does, too."

"That is so wild. Men are impossible to figure out. Does your friend have a name?" 

Gwen smiled. "She does, but I'll respect her privacy and just call her my friend for now, if that's alright." 

"I understand."

They walked in silence for several moments, each lost in their thoughts, the hotel growing larger in the deepening dusk. "Now that you know, do you still feel comfortable sharing a room? I can see if they have another one just for you if you like."

"No, I'm fine," Cricket said with a smile. "I am not running up my bill any more than I absolutely have to. I'm going to pay you back as quickly as possible, you'll see."

Despite her bravado, the young woman seemed nervous as they entered the room, unsure what might or should happen next. "Pick whichever bed you want," Gwen said quietly as she took her sleepwear from her bag and entered the bathroom. She left her bra on, slipping on a long t-shirt over it; thankful she had decided to pack a pair of gym shorts. She stepped back into the room to see that Cricket had also changed in her absence, now similarly dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. The young woman sat against the headboard of the bed farthest from the bathroom, her legs drawn up and hugged against her chest as they had been in the truck that morning. 

Gwen panicked a bit, regretting what she had told her young friend. "I'm sorry Cricket. I didn't mean to frighten you. Really, I can see if they have another room for you—I'll pay for it—"

"No, I really want to stay here," the young woman quickly replied, "if that's okay. But, would you mind if I ask you some more questions about you and your friend?" 

"Of course," Gwen replied, primly sitting on the edge of the other mattress. "Go ahead."

"Tell me if I get too personal and I'll stop, I promise." Cricket hesitated, gathering her words, looking at the bedspread beneath her feet. "Like, whose idea was it to be friends with benefits? Did one of you just say, hey you wanna...you know?" The young woman blushed an even deeper shade of crimson. 

"No, not quite like that. She told me about how she and her friends in college were, uhh, friends with benefits, and that she still was with another friend of hers. So I guess you can say it was her idea, but we never really talked about it in specifics. It just kind of happened, I guess."




A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 21



"How, exactly? Sorry again, too personal."

Gwen smiled. "I trusted you enough to tell you in the first place, so I trust you with the details. This will sound so silly. She got me to try skinny-dipping—despite what you may have been led to believe, I haven't always done that—and she noticed I wasn't trimmed—down there." She glanced down to her crotch meaningfully before continuing. "She offered to trim it up for me, I thought it would be polite to return the favor, and then we started giving each other massages, that kind thing," She shrugged. 

"Oh." Cricket looked back down at her feet, again deep in thought, her cheeks flushed. Gwen began to worry that she had not given the hoped-for answers to the young woman's questions when she spoke. "If you want," Cricket began, intently studying her feet, "I can give you a trim. I don't have any experience with that kind," she quickly confessed, "but I used to trim manes and tails in the barn all the time!" 

Gwen smiled, trying to clarify what she thought was really being offered and form an answer. "Not that I was looking, but you seemed like you were pretty well trimmed that day we were in the pool. So that's just natural?"

Cricket nodded. "Afraid so. It just never has come in fully, I guess. I'd sometimes have to shower with other girls at riding camp and I'd see how much they had down there compared to me and I'd think there was something wrong with me." 

"Every woman is different, I'm sure," Gwen reassured her. "As for me, thank you, but I'm pretty tidy down there right now."

"Oh. Okay. I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said anything." The Slut could recognize disappointment and embarrassment on the younger woman's face; the Lady saw remorse over offering such a personal and deviant service. 

Gwen sided with the Slut's take. "Driving that truck for long distances always gives me sore shoulders," she offered. "Maybe you could rub my shoulders for a little bit?"

Cricket's eyes brightened. "I can do that, if you want," she replied, doing her best not to seem eager. "But I haven't done that before, either. You might have to teach me how."

"I can do that," Gwen said with a smile as she patted the bed beside her. "Come sit next to me and I'll demonstrate on you." 

The young woman hurried over to her side, sitting a respectful distance away. Gwen gently turned her slightly to face away and began to gently work her fingers into the sides of the t-shirt covered shoulders. Cricket tensed at the first touch, then relaxed, letting the woman behind her work. "I had a couple of riding instructors who would do this when I was competing," she said softly, "but they pressed their thumbs and fingers into me really hard, almost until it hurt. You're much more gentle than them."  

"I had those kinds of massages from my instructors, too," Gwen said softly, remembering Miss Ritter's efforts . "More therapeutic than relaxing. Let me know if you want me to press harder."

"No, this is nice. Would it be easier if, umm, my shirt wasn't in the way? That way it doesn't rub against my skin?"

"If you're comfortable with that."

The young woman's response was to grab the bottom of the shirt and pull it up over her head, revealing the pale skin of a back and shoulders unencumbered by a bra. Gwen resumed her gentle kneading and stroking, working farther down on the shoulder blades and spine. Cricket shivered at the touch. "This is wonderful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Gwen murmured, continuing to work, enjoying the feel of the young woman's soft skin.

Cricket sighed contentedly and turned back, not bothering to cover her pert breasts. "That feels wonderful," she repeated, "but my idea was to do something nice for you for a change. Would you like me to rub your shoulders now? I think I have enough of an idea not to be dangerous."

Gwen smiled and turned her back to the topless woman. "I'd like that."

"Tell me if I'm doing it wrong, or I need to go harder or softer, okay?" the nervous woman asked as her hands tentatively landed on the older woman's shoulders. Thumbs and fingers gently pressed into the muscle beneath and began to work. 

"You're doing fine. Would it be easier for you if I took my shirt off?"

"Umm, okay, if you don't mind, I mean..." 

Gwen answered by pulling the top over her head. She hesitated a moment, then the bra joined the shirt next to her. Delicate fingers made contact with bare skin, recoiling a bit as if being burned, then rubbing and stroking just as she had been shown. Cricket beamed with pride when she heard the genuine sigh of pleasure.

She continued to work for some time, admitting her own pleasure in the feel of the older woman's flesh, muscle and bone, smoothing and pressing all the way down nearly to the waistband of her shorts. "Did you and your friend, umm, not do each other's legs?"

"No, we did," Gwen replied without turning around. "Would you like me to show you how?"

"If you don't mind," the voice behind her squeaked as the hands retreated.

"Alright, lie face down on the bed—actually, wait." Gwen got to her feet and walked to the bathroom, not bothering to redress. She returned carrying a towel and some lotion from her travel bag. "Here, lie face down on this," she directed, putting the towel on the bedspread. 

Cricket stood to the side, hesitant. "I, you know, read somewhere that you don't wear clothes for a massage? Should I take my shorts off? Did you and your friend? Would it freak you out if I did?"

"Yes, we did and it no, it wouldn't."

The young woman shed the last of her clothing—she was commando under her shorts, Gwen noted with a smile—and quickly lay on the towel, body stiff as if at attention. The older woman kneeled to her side and reached for the lotion. "Try and relax," she offered. "If I'm making you more tense then I'm doing it wrong."

"Sorry!" Cricket apologized, but there was no change in her body's rigidity until Gwen began to work the scented lotion down her shoulders and back. "Sorry," she said again as the hands reached the rise of her buttocks. "My butt's pretty flabby, probably gross to even touch."

"Stop apologizing," Gwen laughed softly. "Your bottom is beautiful and probably firmer than mine. But if you would rather I stop here, just tell me." 

"No, no, you can keep going, if you want."

Gwen admired the globes as she kneaded them, working deep into the crevice but stopping short for fear of accidental contact with her friend's rosebud. Her thighs were next, her legs parting slightly to allow Gwen more access to their sides, but not enough to reveal the treasure where they joined. She continued down each calf to the feet, every toe getting attention, the toes' owner groaning at the delicious sensations ever since the attention given to her butt. 

"I think I've got it," she said, rolling to her side and offering the towel to Gwen. "May I try?"

Gwen smiled in acknowledgement as she shucked her shorts and panties. The student did a remarkable job of mimicking the teacher, the older woman offering encouragement of "right there" or "that's nice" when she realized her long-conditioned silence might be mistaken as disapproval. 

"Did you do each other's fronts, too?" Cricket asked quietly as she finished the last toe. 

"Uh-huh," Gwen replied, her head still on the pillow. 

"Could you show me?"

"Are you sure?" Gwen rolled to her side, then to her knees.

"I think—yes, I'm sure, please. " She hurried to replace the body on the towel as soon as the spot was open. The young woman lay stiffly at alert, her arms extended and legs spread in a sort of live anatomical display. 

Gwen flashed back to those times Miss Ritter had "demonstrated proper form" on her student and wondered if her own body had been posed so differently then. She had certainly been as nervous then as Cricket appeared now; Gwen had always feared somehow failing the steel-willed Austrian, but for the first time she had to admit that giving up control to her had been intensely arousing as well. The irony of her current situation was not lost on her; and she was determined the student would have a kinder, gentler, more understanding response from the instructor. "Are you sure you want me to touch you...like my friend did?"

The young woman squeezed her eyes shut and nodded vigorously. "You've already touched me more than Daniel did our entire marriage. I want to find out if I like it with someone I trust."

"Alright, but if you want me to stop at any time, just say so, okay?"

She nodded again, now biting her lip like she was awaiting a painful procedure to begin. "Okay."

"I promise it won't hurt Cricket, try and relax," Gwen said, taking her outstretched hand and massaging the palm. She moved on up the arm as the body beneath her relaxed ever so slightly. "See?"

"Sorry, just a little nervous, I guess. I've never done this before."

Gwen's right hand began to turn slow, lazy circles on the woman's stomach as the other passed her bicep.

"Should I be doing something too?" Cricket asked, her eyes now open wide. 

"Do whatever you like, there aren't any rules to this that I'm aware of. But if you want to just lay there and try and enjoy it, that's fine, too."

The young woman closed her eyes and seemed to relax just a little bit more with each passing moment as the hands continued to work, slowly drawing closer to more sensitive areas. One set of fingers gently glided across the skin above her breasts while the other drew closer to the junction of her still-spread legs. Despite her expectation and hope, she flinched as fingers brushed across her erect nipple. 

"Sorry," Gwen offered. "Are they sensitive?" 

"A little," Cricket admitted. "But it's alright—it felt nice, just kind of a new feeling when it's not your own fingers." 

Gwen smiled and took this as a sign to continue. "It's so soft and silky," she murmured, an obvious reference to the sparse patch of pubic hair her other hand was now beginning to stroke. "Not stiff and wiry like mine." 

"It's just always been that way," Cricket said with an apologetic smile. 

"I like it." The older woman dropped from her knees to lie on her side, delicately kissing the younger woman's stomach while her hands continued to smooth and stroke. Her lips made a line up towards the base of Cricket's breast. The base of Gwen's palm was now resting on her friend's mons while fingers traced lines dangerously close to her waiting sex. One finger went to the bottom of her thigh and moved a bit to the side, gently dragging up and over the young woman's barely-concealed inner lips.

"Ohhh..." Cricket breathed, her hips flicking forward to perhaps drive the digit into her on to her clitoris as it moved. Gwen's lips captured a nipple and she flicked it with her tongue. "Oh—oh, yessss..."

Cricket's hand found its way to her tormentor's hip without her even realizing it, running up and down the curve to her ribs, fascinated by the smooth lines of the woman's body. The tongue on her breast would tease the nipple deliciously and then paint another part of her tingling flesh before returning. 

The hand between her legs was now rocking forward, the heel of the palm pressing into her clit as a finger would dip, then withdraw and drag through her folds. The finger eventually stayed buried in her, rocking back and forth, the pressure on her button rocking back and forth as well, and then a second finger joined while her nipples continued to be kissed, licked and sucked. 

"Oh my God, Gwen, oh my God—" she could hear the thunder of her rising orgasm, feel her body tensing and tingling in anticipation. "Oh-oh-oh-OHHGGGODDDD"!

Gwen thrust her fingers deeply into the young woman's opening, just as a man would when burying his seed and then let her twitch and convulse, pleased to watch the orgasm she had helped create. The sounds of her climax were nice as well, like cheers for a job well done. She returned to her kneeling position after her friend let out a long breath and went limp. 

Cricket finally opened her eyes. "Oh my God Gwen, that was incredible, thank you! You're right, it's even better with a person. That was the first one ever I didn't have to give myself."

"You're welcome," Gwen said simply, wondering what to do next. It wouldn't be fair to ask her to return the favor, as much as she felt the need. Perhaps getting dressed would be the best way to transition to more traditional sleeping arrangements...

"So, how does this work?" Cricket asked shyly. "Do I do the same thing to you now?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that, really," Gwen hurriedly replied. You're not obligated. It was just something nice I wanted to do for you. Me getting a little carried away with the whole friend thing again." She smiled weakly. 

"And I want to do something nice for you, for once," Cricket said with a smile. "Really! I'm just, uhh, not sure how to, exactly. I mean, you just gave me a really good demonstration, but I've never done it before..."

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked, doubt in her voice. 

The young woman sat up and nodded vigorously. "Just tell me if I'm doing it wrong and don't get mad, okay?" 

"You won't do it wrong, and I would never get mad!" 

"Okay, then." The two women looked at each other, unsure what to do next. Cricket finally spoke. "Shouldn't you lie down first?"

"Oh, uh sure." Gwen reclined, suddenly self-conscious about the tension her own body might be revealing. "Just do whatever you like done to yourself. It all feels pretty good."

Cricket moved to her side and kneeled, admiring the naked body stretched out below her. "You were the first person who has ever touched me in a way I really liked."

"Men can be hit-or-miss," Gwen sympathized, "I guess because they don't know our bodies as well as we know them. It's what makes doing this with another woman so special."

Cricket smiled and tentatively placed one hand on Gwen's forearm and another on her stomach. Her movements showed she had been paying attention to the older woman's efforts, her hands mimicking the strokes and caresses that had begun her climb to orgasm.  

Gwen knew that she would need to encourage and approve of the young woman's efforts and that Miss Ritter's long-followed demand of silence through the pleasure would have to be foregone. "That's nice," she breathed, and sighed contentedly.

"Yeah?" Cricket said hopefully. "It's alright?"

"It's wonderful."

Emboldened by the encouragement, Cricket's hands began to follow the same paths up down and Gwen's body as she had felt earlier. Her fingers hesitated before pushing through the tuft of hair on the older woman's mons. "I don't think it's wiry at all," she said softly as her other hand began to turn circles on the lower part of Gwen's breast. "It's soft and fluffy."

"It doesn't feel so much like a scrub pad now that it's shorter," she admitted. "That part's easy to trim myself. It's the parts I shave that I still need practice on. I miss spots sometimes, and it gets stubbly pretty quickly."

"It feels smooth to me," Cricket said, two fingers forming a vee and sliding further down past the tuft on to bare skin, stopping on either side of Gwen's clitoris. Her other hand braved the short climb up the breast beneath it, fingers brushing the erect nipple. "Are yours sensitive?"

"Very. I like being touched there." 

The fingers between her legs slid down again, running the gullies between thigh and outer lips as they descended until meeting again on the smooth skin between her openings, the palm they were attached to arching to stay clear of her sex. The fingers slid up and down several times as their owner mustered her courage. The vee was closed as they were drawn up, both fingers lightly dragging up Gwen's sex. Her hips twitched at the sensation. 

Cricket correctly read Gwen's desire and pushed in on the next pass, one finger tucked behind the other as they reached the end of the furrow, circled the nub at the top and beginning another trip down. Gwen sighed appreciatively, making a conscious effort to let the little "ah" that had always been restrained to go free. The young woman shifted position and fingers pushed into Gwen's opening as warm lips circled her nipple. 

The fingers alternated between gentle penetration and exciting her clitoris for the next ten minutes, Gwen delighting in the delicious torture whenever one pleasure was temporarily abandoned for the other. It was Cricket's application of her thumb to the older woman's button while her fingers continued to pump away that brought Gwen to the edge. 

"Cricket, I'm going to...", she didn't finish the sentence, instead grabbing the hand between her legs and mashing it into her sex before her thighs snapped shut. A soft "oh!" escaped her lips, sounding like a scream to the orgasming woman.

Her friend's head was posed above her breast, looking up at her with a nervous smile when she returned to reality. "Was that alright?"

"That was incredible! Thank you! I needed that." 

"I'm glad I could give you something for once. It was pretty intense! I could feel your, uhh, vagina spasming!" Gwen smiled up at her, and Cricket began to look around the room, unsure what to do next. 

"We should probably get some sleep. It's going to be a long day tomorrow," Gwen suggested softly, not moving. 

"Yeah, we probably should." Cricket scrambled off the bed. "Gwen, would you, umm, mind if I slept like this?" She motioned to her nude body. "I tried sleeping like this after we skinny-dipped and I do it all the time now." 

"Of course I don't mind. I sleep that way, too." The young woman smiled and turned to pull back the covers on the other bed. "And if you want," Gwen continued, rising and pulling back her own blankets, "we can share a bed. Save the housekeepers from having to make both."