Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿A New Way of Seeing Things byBusyBadgerÂ(C)

   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.

   *****

   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-in-law
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

   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 risquÃ(C) 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. 



   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

   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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law.  "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-in-law 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-in-law "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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law
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-in-law 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. 



   "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 in law 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-in-law.  "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-in-law'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

   "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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law, 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-in-law.  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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law while Natalie stared back.  "Can you shut the
door?" the shaking woman finally asked.

   Her sister-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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
in law'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-in-law
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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law'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?" 



   "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

   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-in-law, 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-in-law, 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law.

   "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-in-law, 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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law.
"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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law'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?" 



   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-in-law. 

   "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-in-law 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

   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. 



   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

   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-in-law. 

   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-in-law 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."



   "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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law. 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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

   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-in-law 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. 



   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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law." 

   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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law.  "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-in-law'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!' 



   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.

   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 soufflÃ(C) -""
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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-law 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-in-law 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, having in-laws 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-in-law'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-in-law? 
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?



   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-in-law?  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-in-law
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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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 in law'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-in-law 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-in-law.  "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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law, 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-in-law 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.

   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 byBusyBadgerÂ(C)

   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-in-law 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-in-law 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?" 



   "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 risquÃ(C) is in order." Gwen
looked around nervously, worried that someone might have heard her
sister-in-law's comment and guessed what the goal of her shopping trip
was. 

   Natalie turned and sized up her sister-in-law.  "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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law
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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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

   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 cafÃ(C) 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."



   "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-in-law 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. 

   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 cafÃ(C) 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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?"



   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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law 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-in-law 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-in-law
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-in-law 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

   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-in-law 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-in-law's head poked above the landing. 

   "Day off, out running errands," she explained as she finished her climb
and hugged her sister-in-law.  "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-in-law 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-in-law'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-in-law!  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-in-law 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-in-law. 

   "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-in-law. 

   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-in-law 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-in-law 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..."



   "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-in-law 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-in-law, 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-in-law 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-in-law
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-in-law 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.