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 ï>¿A New Way of Seeing Things Pt.  03 Ch.  25 byBusyBadgerÂ(C)

   "Incoming."

   Natalie, now dressed in light blue scrubs, looked up from the message
she was typing.  Gwen's phone dinged in reply a few seconds later. 
"Thought I owed you a fair trade."

   You don't owe me anything," Gwen protested with a smile, unsure exactly
what her sister-in-law was talking about, and opened the message to find a
file attached.  She looked up and smiled uncertainly at the message's
sender, then tapped to play the video.  It opened to the image of two
dangling breasts, then Natalie's stomach as she straightened after starting
the camera.  She stepped back further, her nude body still filling most of
the screen as she grinned and waved excitedly.  The scene behind her made
it apparent she was in a hotel room, the camera propped on the dresser and
aimed at the little hallway behind her, the bathroom to the left of the
door.  Gwen thought she could hear the sound of running water, maybe the
shower?

   The naked woman quickly turned and hurried to the door, opening it just
enough to poke her head through while the rest of her stayed safely hidden
behind.  She stepped back and swung it open just a second later, revealing
the surprised young pizza delivery driver standing in the hallway.  He
shuffled in uncertainly as Natalie hurried away to where her purse sat on
the edge of the bed, unabashedly staring at her upturned ass as she bent
over to retrieve his money.  Gwen could hear her saying something as she
took her time getting the bills out of her wallet.

   "What are you telling him?" she asked, her eyes locked on the screen.

   "Oh, just that I was getting ready to join my husband in the shower when
the pizza showed up, and how much we love having pizza in bed together
after sex," Natalie said with an impish grin.

   "So Adam was in the bathroom?"

   "Oh no, I was at a conference in Jacksonville that weekend.  Adam was
home, and I sent him this after.  I just told the pizza guy that so he'd
think somebody was there with me.  A girl can't be too careful.  Oh, and
you can't see them, but I left some of my toys on the bed, too," she added.

   "You are crazy!"

   "Maybe, but Adam seemed to like it.  He sent me a video back about an
hour later, showing his, umm, appreciation.  Wanna see?"

   "God no!  But maybe I should show Tim this to pay you back for showing
my brother mine."

   "Go for it.  I would hope you've figured out by now that I've got no
problem being seen naked.  Oh shoot, almost forgot!  Be right back!"
Natalie hurried out the door while her puzzled sister-in-law remained in
the kitchen to replay the video.  She returned with a stack of paperwork.
"The partnership stuff you asked Adam for.  He kinda snuck it out of the
office before your father had a chance to intercept it and make changes. 
Anyways, gotta go.  Talk soon?"

   Gwen traded the paperwork for a hug.  "Talk soon."

   ***

   Tim and Cricket waved as they passed each other on the road, one on the
way into town on an emergency call, the other on the way to the house for a
weekend with her horse and friend.  The lines of thunderstorms that had
begun marching through the area before midnight were continuing, the
downpours overwhelming several sump pumps that Tim was on his way to attend
to while washing out the young woman's plans for a relaxing ride.  There
were still barn chores to do though, and that in itself was a comfort. 
Mucking stalls in a quiet country stable had become very much preferable to
pushing papers in a sterile office.

   Gwen was pleased to see the young woman arriving earlier and earlier for
her weekends, not to mention that the house was now the first stop after
she exited the car rather than the barn.  Marvin was not forgotten though,
and Cricket hurried out to her horse soon after hugging the home's owner.

   Despite the rain there was still some discussion as to whether a ride
might be risked before a particularly close flash of light and subsequent
peal of thunder convinced them it would probably not be safe.  They tended
to the horses instead, meticulously grooming them before moving on to their
tack.

   Gwen finally called a halt shortly before lunch.  "Given the weather I
was thinking of getting the grocery shopping done this afternoon.  You're
welcome to stay here..."

   She remembered with an equal mix of excitement and embarrassment her
last trip to the store, and the show she had put on.  "No, of course not!
I'll go with you."

   "Okay, then we can make an afternoon of it, go somewhere for lunch, my
treat."

   The young woman's protests that lunch should at least be split was
overridden, and for the second time in a day two bodies rinsed themselves
under the spray of the shower in the master bathroom.  There was no time
spent in the bedroom other than to change into clean clothes after, Gwen
omitting a bra and daring Cricket to do the same.

   The young woman's shirt was not particularly revealing, but she still
felt small thrills every time she reminded herself she was braless in
public.  It probably isn't even noticeable, she thought, and a quick glance
at Gwen's chest only hinted at the fact her breasts were unrestrained.  It
was not until the dairy aisle of the grocery store that she noticed the
hard little points gently moving up and down beneath her friend's shirt as
she walked, and a quick check confirmed was in the same state.  Still she
was not pushed into displaying anything more, not like last time.

   "Forgot to mention," Gwen announced as she drove, "just us after dinner
tonight.  Tim's going out with some friends -"somebody's birthday, I guess,
so the TV is ours tonight.  Hope that's okay with you."

   "Of course it is!  It'll be nice to have someone to watch with."

   Both women had the meal preparations under way when Tim finally returned
home, Gwen laughing and shooing him off to the shower when he tried to
squeeze her rear end.  She reached into the refrigerator a moment later and
retrieved a beer.  "He forgot this," she said, holding it out to Cricket,
"Could you take it to him?"

   "Oh, uhh, sure..." He was stepping out of his jeans when she got to the
bedroom, shirt already gone, penis flopping free after being freed from his
sweat-soaked underwear.  The casualness of his nudity flustered her
momentarily, and the young woman had to remind herself she had seen him
naked before, in far more compromising positions.  Like when his cock had
been in her hands...Tim looked up, a little surprised, freezing in place.
"Uh, Gwen asked me to bring this to you."

   "Woman's a saint, I tell ya," he said, reaching for the can and breaking
the spell.  "Tell her I'll be right out to help get dinner ready."

   "Oh, we're almost done.  We'll put it on the table when you're done,
umm, showering."

   "Be out in a couple of minutes."

   He waited until Cricket retreated, then turned for the running shower,
also mindful of how easy it had become to be naked in front of others.  He
wasn't exactly packing, but it was fun to show off what he did have.  Would
have been nice if Gwen delivered it in person though, maybe stayed to wash
my back, he thought with a smile.

   They ate slowly, talking, Tim in no hurry to be on his way, almost
wanting to call it a night and stay in.  No, he finally decided, a guy's
gotta do guy stuff sometimes, and reluctantly said his goodbyes after
helping with clean up.

   There was plenty of wine and popcorn to go with the TV watching. 
Cricket was near the bottom of her second glass as they watched an R-rated
crime suspense movie, the kind Gwen would never have consented to be shown
in her living room back in the old days.  There was a brief shot of a
sultry young administrative assistant sliding down to her knees in front of
a silver haired lawyer leaning against a desk, her likely destination of
the man's waist just below the camera's reach, hinting strongly at the act
she was about to perform.  The scene faded, only to cut to an unmade bed,
the camera focused on the now bare back of the woman as she apparently sat
astride the man's face, his hands full of asscheek.

   "I never thought about doing -"that-that way," Cricket mused, emboldened
by the alcohol.  "Of course, before I met you and Tim I always thought that
-""she nodded at the TV before looking into the bottom of her glass,
wishing it full again, "didn't actually happen nearly as much as people
talked about it.  I mean, even though I wanted to try it just once, just to
see what it was like, putting a man's penis in your mouth, just seemed, I
don't know, so far out there, and I knew Daniel would never let me do
anything so dirty, much less do it to me.  But when I see you two do
it...well you both seemed to like it.  You do, right?"

   Gwen looked down at the bottom of her own glass and smiled.  "I wasn't
sure I'd like it the first time I did it for him, but I do -"a lot -"now.
It makes him happy, and I just, I don't know, something about having him in
my mouth that I really enjoy.  And I couldn't imagine a man returning the
favor for me, either.  But I'm really glad he did."

   Cricket smiled.  "Did you ever imagine doing that with a woman before
the first time you actually did?"

   Gwen paused.  Before Miss Ritter?  Never.  Okay, she corrected herself,
maybe once or twice, but that was just teenage curiosity...Before Natalie?
Only in a few of her fevered dreams until the possibility became real. 
"Once or twice, but really, it just...happened.  How about you?"

   The young woman blushed.  "Maybe once or twice...but I'm glad it "just
happened" with you.  I do still want to feel what it's like to have a man
do that, though.  I have to guess it feels different?"

   "It does.  Remember my experience is pretty limited -"Tim's the only one
that's done that for me, and yeah, it's a little different...but it's like
he's guessing at what I want.  Women just know, I guess.  The guessing is
fun, though.  You never know where he's going next.  Oh, and stubble."

   "Stubble?"

   "A man's razor stubble on your skin.  Sometimes it tickles, sometimes
it's a little like sandpaper..." Gwen giggled.  "I sometimes wonder what a
full beard would feel like, although I'm not about to ask Tim to grow one
just to find out.  I think women have the easier job, though.  Men are
happy anytime their things are in something else, and the fact there's a
tongue involved just makes it just that much better." Gwen giggled again,
this time at her coarseness.  "I'm going to go close up the barn, then call
it a night," she announced, stretching and yawning.

   "I'll go with you," Cricket volunteered, and the women trudged across
the yard to make one last check of the horses.  There was no longer any
question of what bed the young woman would be in when they returned to the
house, and she lay there naked next to Gwen, looking up at the ceiling,
trying to rationalize how the situation she found herself in was any
semblance of normal.  Screw normal, she finally decided.  I don't care.  I
like it.  She smiled at an imagined conversation with her mother.  Don't
worry Mom, I must still like men -"I got really excited putting my hand on
Tim's penis.  But sex with Gwen makes me feel really good...

   "I think we're turning you into us," Gwen said quietly as she turned on
her side and threw an arm across the young woman's blanket-covered stomach.
"Boring old people who are in bed before dark."

   "It's dark out, and I keep telling you I was like that before I knew
you. I just like knowing I'm not the only one who appreciates that kind of
pace."

   "Hmm." A kiss landed on her cheek, very close to her lips.  "Good night.
Don't forget, Tim will probably stumble in around midnight.  He tries
really hard to be quiet, but sometimes he's not very good at it." Gwen
rolled again, her back now to the woman in her bed.

   Cricket rolled up behind her, hoping that would be alright, knowing it
would be, luxuriating in the feel of a soft warm body.  Her hand slid under
the covers and over Gwen's ribcage, resting at the spot just below her
breasts.  "Do you think Tim will just go right to sleep when he comes home
late?"

   "Maybe, maybe not...why?"

   "Just wasn't sure if you two had a, you know, a cutoff time for..." The
young woman's fingers began to gently stroke the smooth skin they lay on.

   Gwen felt sure she knew what the unspoken activity was and smiled.  "Are
you worried you might miss cutoff, too?"

   The hand stopped and withdrew.  "Oh -"uh, sorry, no, just curious."

   Gwen rolled over to face her, a hand gently brushing Cricket's cheek. 
"Nothing to apologize for.  And to answer your question, no, it's never too
late for him -"" or you, the Slut drily reminded her, "so don't be
surprised if Tim has something on his mind when he comes home.  Will you be
alright if he does?"

   "Oh, uhh, of course, I mean, whatever you two do -"or don't do is
alright with me!  I just asked because I was kinda wondering
about-that...sorry, I'm such a pervert." Even in the dark Gwen could see
the young woman blush.

   "No more than me...would you like me to help you before he comes home?"

   Cricket hesitated, thinking it rude to ask before blurting it out
anyway. "I just like the way you feel -"so soft and warm-if I can just
touch you, that would be nice."

   "Touch all you want," Gwen replied, her hand already smoothing the young
woman's side.  "But I get to touch you, too." It was sometime before either
woman's fingers reached for intimate spots, both enjoying the feel of
fingertips gliding over feminine skin and muscle while their lips met with
occasional brief kisses.  Gwen was first to a breast, tongue gently
flicking and bathing the nipple while the young woman sighed in pleasure.
Legs opened in invitation, the older woman's hand happily accepting.

   Her lips continued on down Cricket's taut stomach, towards where one
finger was now slowly gliding in and out while her palm pressed against the
young woman's clit, finally sliding her body over a spread thigh to gently
kiss at the wetness between her legs.

   "Oh God," Cricket moaned, "that is so good...I know what you mean about
a woman hitting the right spots." It was some time before she raised her
head to look down at the woman between her legs.  "Can I do that to you
now?" Gwen looked up and smiled, and the two women quickly changed places,
the older woman's turn to look down at the head bobbing at her crotch.

   The young woman worked slowly, dipping to run her tongue up Gwen's sex,
still marveling at the pleasant mildness of her taste, so unlike what she
had imagined before that first time.  Gradually, the hard little nub at the
top became her focus.  Gwen's hips twitched in response, and a pair of
hands found their way to the back of the head tormenting her, fingers
combing through her hair.

   She allowed the lips and tongue to withdraw after another moment or two,
and Cricket sat up.  "You said you were going to show me the gifts you got
for modeling?"

   Gwen smiled and extricated herself from the woman between her legs. 
Neal was retrieved from the nightstand drawer first, his banishment to the
closet ended after Natalie had left the day before.

   His was not the focus of the young woman kneeling on the bed, however,
instead pointing at the other lifelike reproduction that had been placed in
front of her.  "I see what you mean about them being almost real.  That one
looks very familiar...Tim, right?" Gwen smiled and nodded.  "Does it feel
real, too?"

   "Touch it and find out."

   "Really?  Are you sure?"

   "Why not?  Of course."

   Cricket tentatively ran a finger up the length, giggling nervously at
the feel of the yielding surface over the hardness beneath.  "How in the
heck did they do that?" she chirped, looking up at the older woman in
wonder.

   "No idea.  Pretty real, huh?"

   "Really real.  Does it, uhh, feel real, like him, inside you?"

   "I suppose...it's hard to tell without the body the real one is attached
to, though.  You can pick it up you know.  It doesn't bite."

   Cricket accepted the invitation with another nervous high-pitched
giggle. "It's heavy."

   "It's certainly solid.  Would you like to try it out?"

   "Really?  You don't mind?"

   "I don't mind.  Tell you what," Gwen said, getting off the bed long
enough to retrieve the Magic Wand and plug it in, "you take this, and I can
help you with that." She traded the vibrator for the dildo and gently
pushed the young woman onto her back, climbing between legs opened in
anticipation.

   Gwen waited until the tennis ball head of the wand was applied to the
young woman's clit before gently pressing the head of the length against
her opening.  She waited for the angry buzz, then gently pushed his length
forward, watching Tim's reproduction bull its way into another woman for
the second time in two days.  Cricket didn't have the labial lips Natalie
had, and the length disappeared into her without abundant folds of flesh
grabbing at it as it slid by.

   "Ohh!  That is nice..." The young woman's hips rose to meet the invader,
helping to push it deeply into her, testicles soon bumping against her
bottom.  "The ones you got me always feel so massive...this one feels
comfortable, more real."

   "Mmm-hmmm..." Gwen had begun a regular cadence of thrust and withdraw,
watching her friend accept the cudgel then give it back, hips twitching
forward to hurry its return.  The mad hum of the Wand was bringing her
closer...

   The whoosh of the air conditioning could not completely mask the sound
of a truck coming up the driveway.  "Tim's home," Gwen said softly, an
incredibly perverted idea beginning to form.  "I know you're probably
close, but do you think you can wait a little longer until Tim can join
us?"

   "Uh, sure, yeah I guess," Cricket mumbled, lying there with the vibrator
now turned off, waiting for the length inside her to be removed.

   "I'm going to say hello," Gwen continued, placing the dildo back on the
nightstand.  "Be right back."

   "Alright..." the young woman made her way under the covers, suddenly
conscious of the fact she was naked in another woman's bed and that woman's
husband was home.

   "You're back early!" Gwen called out as she turned the corner into the
kitchen while Tim was shutting the door.

   "And you're naked, which is a great reason to come home early," he said
with a grin as he took her in his arms and kissed her.  "Hope I didn't
interrupt anything..."

   "Well, actually..."

   "Oh, uh, well, I can watch some TV until you're uhh, done..."

   "No, it's fine, I want you to come to bed.  But you should shower first.
You smell like cigarettes."

   Yeah, bars'll do that...you sure?  I can hang out here for a while if
you want."

   "You've had a busy day and I'm not going to kick you out of your own
bed! But if you're not too tired," she said, lowering her voice, "I think
Cricket was hoping to see us together, if you know what I mean." His grin
told her he did.  "Come on." She grabbed him by the hand and led the way
down the hall, letting go once he was at the foot of the bed.

   "Uhh, hey Cricket.  Hope I didn't wake you..."

   "No," she squeaked, the covers modestly pulled up above her chest, "we
-"I -"was awake." His eyes went to the dildo on the stand beside her -"his
dildo, a pretty good likeness he supposed, almost creepy how real it
looked, although he had never really spent much time memorizing the look of
his dick.  It was just kind of there...he wondered where it had been
tonight.  Gwen, or perhaps even Cricket?

   "I'm, uhh, gonna take a quick shower -"Gwen says I smell like
cigarettes. Be right back." He hurried through a quick shampoo, body lather
and rinse, his freshening erection getting a little more attention than
necessary.  He quickly rejoined the two women, making no effort to hide his
bobbing cock as he tried not to hurry to his customary side of the bed,
next to Gwen with Cricket to her other side.  There was a moment of
uncomfortable silence as they lay there, Tim and Gwen above the covers,
Cricket still beneath them, each wondering what to do next.

   What the hell, he finally thought, she wants a show.  "I was hopin'
you'd still be up," he grumbled, kissing her.

   "I told you," she laughed, briefly turning her head to look at the woman
behind her.  "And I'm glad you're up," Gwen reached between them and gently
shook his length.  "I've been waiting for you.  Could you do me a favor?"

   "You could get me to do just about anything right now."

   "We were talking about oral sex before you came home, and I was telling
Cricket how good you are at it.  Could you kiss me down there?"

   Tim glanced at the young woman, noting her wide-eyed interest, then
chuckled over his wife's bluntness.  "Don't know about how good I am, but
I'm willing.  Be glad to." He kissed his way down a familiar stomach as she
looked on, finally installing himself between open thighs that he hooked
with strong arms.

   Her sex was pulled to his lips, and Cricket marveled at the casual
display of strength as her friend gasped at the first flick of her hooded
nub and turned and smiled dreamily at her friend.  "Like I said, different,
but nice," she sighed, "so nice." Her eyes closed as her senses surrendered
to Tim's efforts.

   They were still closed when she spoke again.  "Cricket?"

   The young woman's eyes darted from the head between Gwen's spread legs
to her face.  "Huh?"

   "Would you like to try it?"

   "You mean...do that, to you?" she asked uncertainly, afraid to dare to
believe what was being offered.

   "No, would you like to see how nice it feels?"

   Tim also guessed at what the invitation implied and brought his head up
to look at his wife for confirmation.

   "I, uhh, well, isn't that up to Tim?"

   "It's up to both of you," Gwen said throatily.  "If Tim's alright with
it and you're alright with it..."

   "It's alright with me," he replied after waiting long enough to keep
from appearing overeager, eyes shifting between the two women to gauge
their reactions.

   "You should go first..."

   "I did -"and I will later, after you've had a chance.  I feel bad you
were interrupted earlier." Gwen gracefully swung her leg over the body
between them and rolled away.  "C'mon." Her hand pressed against Cricket's
stomach, gently pushing her onto her back before moving up to cup a breast.

   Tim bided his time -"patience, patience, he silently counseled, don't
scare her, give Gwen enough time to change her mind -"waiting until one leg
slowly moved away from the other.  It finally stopped, just enough room for
his body to fit between them.  He rose from the bed, his temporarily-freed
cock red and angry-looking before it again disappeared under his
freshly-repositioned body.  Cricket looked down in wonder at the
salt-and-pepper hair on the head poised above her crotch, his focus on the
prize before him, and realized she had not left him much room to work with.
Her eyes closed in embarrassment even as her legs opened further in
lust-filled anticipation.  The young woman nervously grasped her friend's
hand for support.

   And there it was, just inches from his face.  Delicate inner lips barely
peeked from puffier outer ones lightly covered with wispy hair.  It did not
thicken much at the point where her lips met, where her clit lay hidden
beneath.  The pussy of my wife's friend in licking distance, my naked wife
watching me.  This has gotta be some kind of payback for years of keeping
my dick in my pants, Tim rationalized.  Better not screw this up...

   Despite her nerves, Cricket giggled as he felt the gentle kiss against
her sex and the rasp of his cheeks against her thighs.  Tim looked up in
mild surprise.  "Okay?"

   "Oh -"yes, it's just that your stubble tickles a little."

   Gwen smiled.  "Told you."

   "Sorry, Gwen told me to shower.  She didn't tell me I needed to shave.
I've got an electric razor I can use, only take a minute..."

   "No, no, you don't have to do that...it just tickles a little, that's
all, I'll get used to it."

   "Tell me if you don't." He again bent to his task, tongue gently
exploring the wet folds, working closer to the nub where they met.  He
eagerly inhaled the heady fragrance of a woman in heat, the scent stronger
than the actual taste of her wetness.

   Cricket jumped at his first swipe at her clit, inhaling sharply in
surprise, hoping for more.  She was not disappointed, and her soft coos and
sighs made it clear she had at least temporarily banished any reservations
she had about the pleasure being given her.  "I see what you mean, it does
feel different," she said after opening her eyes just long enough to focus
on Gwen smiling down at her.  Eyelids drifted shut again as her hips
twitched and her hand squeezed the one she held.  "But nice different.  I
like it."

   Gwen gently smoothed her fingers over one breast, then the other. 
"Would you like me to hand you the vibrator?"

   "No, that's okay...is it alright if I just...like this?"

   "Of course."

   Tim helped produce her delayed orgasm a few moments later, the young
woman softly chanting, "oh my...oh my," in time to her writhing hips until
it was cut off with a sudden "oh my G--" and the constriction of every
muscle as the first wave ripped through her.  Tim kept up his efforts until
delicate hands pushed his head against her sex.  And then she was limp,
spent, breathing heavily while her eyes opened to what she had just done. A
quick check of the older woman still patiently smiling down on her helped
soothe her fear and remorse; there was no anger in her friend's face, just
a certain knowing satisfaction.  "Ohh, that was nice!" Cricket looked down
between her legs, to where Tim looked up at her, wondering if it was proper
to remove himself now.  "Thank you for -"that," she hurriedly squeaked.  "I
had no idea..."

   "You're welcome."

   Gwen gently kissed the young woman on the cheek and got to her knees. 
"Tim, do you think you can hold out a little longer?  I'd like to do
something first.  I promise you'll be very well taken care of."

   He smiled, taking this as his cue to remove himself from between another
woman's legs.  "I always am.  Does that mean I'm sitting this one out?"

   She rose from the bed.  "No, but do you think you could lie down for
me?"

   Tim grinned and lay back on the spot she had just vacated, next to where
Cricket still reclined on her side, a hand propping her head up.  Gwen
waited until he was comfortable, then climbed on with him, a knee above
each shoulder as she straddled him and steadied herself on the headboard
beyond.  "I -"we -"saw this in a movie tonight."

   "Must've been a hell of a movie," Tim was able to get out before his
mouth was covered with her sex and his tongue slipped into the second pussy
of the night.  The abundant wetness he found was too real to make
everything that happened since he had come home part of a dream, and Tim
took it as well as her need to be satisfied as evidence his wife had
enjoyed watching his earlier efforts.

   Cricket scrambled into a sitting position, legs crossed in front of her.
Tim's potent erection was also right in front of her, and her stare
alternated between the pulsing length and Gwen's hips undulating against
his face while hands grasped at her ass.  His finger occasionally brushed
against the writhing woman's asshole; it had to be an accident, a heat of
the moment thing, she decided.

   The arousal that had first begun to stir during the film and continued
to grow in the hours since finally exploded into orgasm, the novelty of the
position and the wickedness of an audience contributing every bit as much
as her husband's tongue.  Satisfied, she climbed off and looked down at a
face wet with her juices.  His face was wet before you used him like that,
the Lady suggested darkly, but she brushed it aside.  Tim had been very
patient; he was past due to have his needs met now.

   Gwen took a breath to slow her breathing.  "Cricket, would you like to
practice?"

   The young woman glanced at the cock she had stopped staring at when her
friend had dismounted.  "You mean, like last time?  Is that alright?"

   "I don't think Tim will mind..." she turned to her smiling husband. 
"Right?"

   He made his shaft flex off his stomach a couple times in response, an
ability Cricket found oddly amusing.  "Happy to help."

   "Okay..." The young woman extended a finger and gently stroked the
underside from where the loose skin of his ball sack turned to something
more solid up to where the bulbous head began to flare.  Another stroke and
another finger was added, then a third.  Fresh precum had been bubbling out
of the tip since his cock had been freed from the blanket he had been
laying on between her legs; she extended a fingertip to gingerly coat the
pink head with the slickness.  "Is that okay?"

   "That's great."

   "It's so warm compared to the, uhh, other one."

   So she had been playing with it, Tim thought, and the image of it buried
deep inside her flashed into his head.  He didn't attempt to chase it out.
Cricket paused, then formed an O over the tip of the head with her thumb
and forefinger then gently pushed them down over the spongy mass, the
opening expanding to fit him before again tightening beneath the flare and
continuing down.  More fingers joined the first with each stroke.

   Gwen waited until the fist was snugged up against the base of her
husband's cock before impulsively reaching over from where she was sitting
to scoop some more liquid from his cock head and offer the fingertip to
Cricket.  "Want to taste it?"

   The young woman hesitated.  "Does it taste bad?" She quickly blushed and
looked at Tim.  "Sorry, I didn't mean -""

   "It's okay," he laughed.  "Fair question."

   "Doesn't taste like much at all," Gwen advised.  "Maybe a little hint of
salt."

   Cricket leaned forward to delicately take the offered finger between her
lips.  "Hmm, yeah, not much at all..."

   "Would you like to put it in your mouth?"

   The young woman's eyes grew wide and she glanced meaningfully at the
penis she was holding.  "You mean -"it?"

   "Yes, it.  You were wondering what it was like."

   Cricket looked at the cock's owner, but Tim was looking at his wife,
unable to believe what he was hearing.  "Can I?" He smiled helplessly and
shrugged.  The images of her friend kissing and licking the length before
taking it in her mouth were burned into her brain and she acted from
memory, bending forward to gently plant a kiss midway down the underside of
the shaft, feeling the heat on her lips.

   "Lie down with your head over his stomach," Gwen suggested.  "it's
easier on your back and neck."

   "Let's you control the action a little more, too," Tim added helpfully,
and though the young woman wasn't quite sure what he meant, she was not
going to ask now.

   It was an interesting view from there; her hand aiming the wet
scarlet-hued head at her face.  She delicately planted another kiss, this
time on the spongy head, pulling back just enough to lick the salty
moisture from her lips.  Cricket did her best to imitate her friend's
actions, kissing and licking up and down the length and beyond, the feel of
his loose sac very different from the hardness that extended from it.  She
paused after a trip back up to the spongy head, her tongue following the
valley through the underside of the mushroom head to his slit.  The length
jumped in response, lightly smacking her on the lips.  The young woman
looked up at her friend sitting next to her.  "Do I put it in my mouth
now?"

   "Put it in whenever you want, although I think Tim would really like you
to."

   "How far do I put it in?"

   "As far as you want.  Just not so far that you gag yourself."

   Cricket nodded, apparently thinking this information critical, and
slowly parted her lips to take him, feeling the texture change as the head
gave way to the shaft.

   "You can also put your hand around the base of the guy's, uhh, penis to
keep him from pushing in too far," Tim added.  "Some guys get in a hurry.
Your fist acts like a stopper against your mouth."

   Gwen laughed.  "You never told me that!"

   "Didn't think you needed to know.  I'm always really careful not to gag
you.  But Cricket might be with a guy who isn't careful."

   "And how did you know about that little trick?"

   "Somebody told me..." that somebody had been a girl prior to Gwen whom
he had been in a hurry with once, and the hand always wrapped around the
base of his cock after had been a clear signal she didn't trust the
energetic young man to control himself.

   Cricket removed him from her mouth just far enough to speak even as she
continued to stare at the thing in her hand.  "Thanks, that's good to
know." And then the mouth was back, beginning to pick up a bobbing rhythm
like she had seen Gwen do.  Like he's fucking my mouth...

   Tim's groans and sighs were cheers to the young woman, the gentle
flexing of his hips a sign of hope that she was at least not a failure at
this.  She tested her limits, finding that spot where taking him any deeper
might cause her to gag and splutter, trying to incorporate her tongue into
the vagina her mouth had become.  There was a hand gently smoothing her
back, Gwen's, encouraging her efforts...

   "Tim, any words of advice?" the older woman looked up and asked, hand
still turning circles on the back of the naked woman at his waist.

   "No, she's -"you're, doing fine, you're changing things up, that's good,
no teeth, that's really good...Damn, is it good, really good, but I'm
getting' close..."

   The older woman knew he had been even before he announced it.  "A nice
guy tells you when they're close to finishing, so it doesn't come as a
surprise."

   Cricket's mouth popped off the end with the next stroke.  "Ohh -"what do
I do know?"

   Gwen smiled.  "Well, you could use your hand to make him come, or I can
take over for you..."

   "I can do it, unless you think you should," the young woman insisted.

   "If you'd like to, be my guest."

   "Would it be alright if I, uhh, used my mouth?"

   The older woman gave another gentle smile.  "Are you sure?"

   "I want to see what it's like." Cricket bent, prepared to take him back
in, then stopped.  "I know you swallow it, after...should I?"

   "You don't have to, no, a lot of women spit it out after from what I'm
told."

   "Guys'll tell you if you swallow it shows you love 'em more, but I think
that's bullshit," Tim grumbled.  "It feels good either way -"guys just
think it's kinkier when a woman swallows."

   She briefly hesitated before again engulfing his length and resuming her
bobbing.  "Get ready," Gwen offered quietly, "you'll be surprised how fast
it happens." The twitching of his hips was more pronounced now, in her
opinion bringing him dangerously close to choking her, and the young woman
briefly panicked, her hand reflexively gripped his cock at the base in
response.

   The extra pressure was too much for Tim and the "Uhhh!" escaped his lips
as the first jet leapt from his cock.  Despite Gwen's warning, Cricket was
caught unaware by the force of his spurt against the back of her throat and
with a spluttering gag she attempted to pull away from the cock in her
mouth while redirecting its aim, not fast enough for the second blast to
still land on her tongue, the other spurts landing wetly on her turned
cheek while she coughed his spend back up from her windpipe.

   "Sorry, sorry," Gwen said soothingly, her hand on the young woman's back
now trying to help her recover and breathe again.  "I should have been more
clear with my warning.  I did the same thing the first time..."

   Cricket looked up, wide-eyed and a little shellshocked, her hand still
wrapped around the rock-hard shaft.  "I thought I knew what you meant, but
he must have shot a gallon."

   "It just feels like that," Gwen said with a laugh.  "There's a lot of
force behind that little bit, though."

   The young woman turned her attention to the man whose cock she still
held, his come dripping down her cheek.  "I'm so sorry Tim," she chirped
between coughs, "that couldn't have been too nice for you!  I know I can do
better than that -""

   He laughed.  "To tell you the truth, I feel really bad how good it felt
even while you were gagging on it.  Are you okay?"

   Cricket gave another couple of coughs before replying.  "I think so,
yeah, and I'm glad you liked it but boy that was unexpected, like having
somebody shoot a squirt pistol into the back of your mouth."

   "Now you know for next time, and you'll be ready," Gwen advised.  "I
kind of put my tongue against his head to keep him from squirting too far."

   "Good to know." Cricket finally let go of him.  "Feels like I should
clean up," she said with an embarrassed smile while gently touching the
wetness on the side of her face.  "I'll bring back a washcloth for you?"

   "That would be great, thanks." Tim waited until the young woman was in
the bathroom.  "Sorry about almost choking your friend."

   Gwen shrugged and smiled.  "You did choke her.  That would have been an
interesting emergency room visit.  She wanted to try it though, and I
thought she needs the experience and practice, so..."

   "Uh-huh." His expression made it clear he thought that only part of the
story.  "You know most wives wouldn't have even offered her the chance,
right?"

   Gwen's short laugh came out as a snort.  "I have to guess most husbands
would have thrown me out on the street for what I do with my sister-in-law,
or that nice young woman in the bathroom." It was the Lady's turn to snort.
Or for showing yourself to complete strangers, or for having such an
obsession with that monstrosity of Neal's, or even thinking what it might
be like to spread your legs for whatever man wanted you, she added.

   "Maybe, maybe not.  All I know is I'm not asking you to change a thing.
You were just the opposite for so long, it's good to see your needle move
the other way some."

   "You don't think my needle is in the red?"

   Let's just say I'm not ready to pop any relief valves, so I guess my
hidden kinks are coming out and keeping pace with yours.  Good thing we got
each other.  Now if only I could ride a horse, then you'd have a real
catch..."

   "You can ride, you just don't like to," she retorted with a smile.  "And
you're still the best catch I could have ever hoped for.  Oh -"remind me
later to show you something Natalie sent me..."

   Cricket found them cuddling in each other's arms when she returned with
the warm washcloth and wondered if she should retreat from an obviously
private moment, but Gwen rolled her husband on his back and invited her
friend on to the bed.  She watched while Cricket cleaned and sleep soon
followed, Gwen happily sandwiched between a soft and feminine body on one
side, a rougher and more masculine one on the other.



   A New Way of Seeing Things Pt.  03 Ch.  26

   Cricket had been gone barely twenty minutes when the phone rang, the
caller announcing herself as "Rae Rayburn, Mrs.  Danning's personal
assistant."

   Gwen willed calm into her voice.  "Hello Ms.  Rayburn, how are you?"

   "I'm well, thank you for asking.  I hope I'm not catching you at a bad
time?"

   "Not at all.  How can I help you?"

   "I'm actually calling on behalf of Mr.  Castigalli.  He knows its short
notice, but he was wondering if you might be available to pose next
weekend?"

   "Oh, well..." Gwen paused to mentally check her calendar, already
knowing it to be free.  "I believe I could be, yes.  What do I...uhh, where
and when?"

   "Mrs.  Danning's estate.  Mr.  Castigalli has in mind an area on the
property.  He also told me you would be needed for a short while on Friday
night, then all day Saturday and Sunday.  Will arriving Friday afternoon
fit with your schedule?"

   Gwen did some quick calculations.  Tim would be here to care for the
horses, Cricket could meet her there after work..."Yes, I suppose that
would be alright."

   "I can arrange transport for your horse--Esprit de Dartagnan is it?--any
time this week that is convenient for you."

   Gwen was pleasantly surprised how easily the French name rolled off the
tongue of the woman with a slight Southern drawl.  "He's Dart for short and
no, I can trailer him.  I don't mind."

   "If you are sure then of course we'll be sure we have a space ready for
him when you arrive."

   She smiled at the memory of the acres and acres of stables.  Space at
the inn was probably not going to be an issue.  "Should I, uhh make hotel
reservations nearby?"

   Rae laughed.  "No, we have space for you as well.  There's a little
bungalow near the stables Mrs.  Danning uses for her guests that come to
ride.  Will that be sufficient?"

   "I'm sure it will, yes."

   "And I understand you'll be bringing your own groom?"

   "A friend of mine, yes.  I'm hoping she'll meet me there Friday
evening."

   "Excellent!  We'll have accommodations for her as well.  And will your
husband be traveling with you?"

   "Oh no," Gwen laughed.  The idea had never occurred to her, and the
thought of him watching her pose brought equal parts dread and excitement.
"Tim is not into horses nearly as much as I am."

   "I understand from Mr.  Castigalli that your husband likes to fish, is
that right?"

   "Mr.  Castigalli has good attention to detail.  I think Tim -"my husband
-"only mentioned it in passing."

   "We have a pond on the property, one that Mr.  Danning kept stocked
until he passed.  It's not used much any more other than by one of our barn
managers.  Perhaps Mr.  Nelson would like to try his luck there?"

   "Oh -"well, I can certainly ask him." A large-mouth bass or his wife
cavorting about naked in front of strangers, the Slut mused.  I wonder
which one will hold his interest longer?

   Gwen went to find him as soon as the call ended a few moments later. 
She was only mildly surprised at how quickly he accepted the invitation,
his excitement obvious at the prospect of a stocked pond that had lay
untouched for years.  His presence presented a new problem -"who would care
for the other horses in their absence?

   That was solved with a call to Alison.  Her daughter quickly volunteered
to spend the weekend at the house, although she and Jason were hosting
friends at the same time and would it be alright if they stayed there too?
Gwen made a mental note to ensure the house in general and the guest room
in particular were presentable by the time she left on Friday.  At least
the dinner planned for Tuesday night had given her a head start on that.

   Despite the air conditioning they chose to remain on top of the covers
at bedtime, Tim sneaking furtive peeks at his naked wife as she lay there
reading.  "Gotta hand it to Natalie, that was a pretty ballsy move," he
offered after returning his eyes to the paperwork he held.

   Gwen knew what he was referring to.  As promised, she had shown him the
video that afternoon, several times in fact, each time getting a short
laugh and shake of the head from him.  "Mm-hmm...but I think we both knew
that before."

   "Yeah, I guess...she really gave him a good look at the whole package!"

   "Uh, huh," she agreed, remembering how she had spread her legs more than
necessary to bend over for her wallet.

   He continued to study the papers, and Gwen assumed the topic had been
dropped.  "Maybe we should order pizza some time," Tim finally grumbled,
not looking up.

   She laughed.  "The hotel ice run was scary enough!  And then when you
tied me to the bed and left...anyone could have come in and seen me, a
maid, or a maintenance worker...they would have seen my entire package
then!" It was her turn to glance down her husband's naked body, watching
his penis roll off its side and gain just a bit of firmness.

   "Not the entire package," he countered with a sly look.  "Would've had
to flip you over for that."

   A sudden impulse swept through her.  The book was carefully laid on the
nightstand and her head was laid on his stomach, index finger and thumb
making a circle around the base of his still mostly-soft member.  She
dipped and took his spongy head between her lips.

   Ain't this is a nice surprise, he thought.  "Whatcha doin' there?"

   "Practicing," Gwen said, lifting her mouth off of him long enough to
answer.  "So I can at least offer poor Cricket some better advice if she
wants to try it again sometime.  Don't choke me," she asked, using her
finger and thumb to meaningfully shake his hardening member.

   Relief swept over Tim.  Any mention of the previous night's activities
had been avoided in the morning, but there was still a sort of "I can't
believe we did that" vibe to the day.  Of course, there had been that
feeling in the house before, and it had always worked itself out...for his
part, he had felt remorse only because he thought he should; in reality the
stud in him had been most pleased to be called upon to demonstrate his oral
talents on two fine pussies, and the reward delivered by Cricket's mouth
while his wife looked on was too good to be true.  Gwen's reference to his
advice to Cricket made it seem like any regrets she might have had were
fading as well.

   "The choking part wasn't my fault.  I don't have a way to control the
output," he offered cautiously.  "Besides, you tried to warn her." Her only
response was a muffled "mm-mmm" as he continued to grow.  He hummed
contentedly to show his appreciation, his hand caressing her back as she
worked, able to reach just far enough to delve between her cheeks and
lightly stroke her rosebud; Gwen shifted her body in response, bringing it
closer to his fingers while bringing a leg up to clear the way to her sex.

   Tim took the hint, sliding up and down her furrow from clit to asshole,
painting the crinkled muscle with the moisture he found along the way while
Gwen took her time bringing him closer to the edge.  Neither was in a hurry
but she eventually got there first, taking over the tormenting of the hard
little nub while his finger was busy plunging in and out of her.  "No
teeth," he joked as she trembled through her climax, mouth still full of
cock.  She bit down lightly in response, playfully giggling around her
mouthful as the last tremors passed.

   Gwen was all business now, her focus to draw his seed out of the
cockhead her tongue was flicking.  The fist that had grown from thumb and
index finger once his length had grown pushed down against the balls below,
testing his advice on how to form a barrier should a man get to thrusting
too deeply.  For his part Tim practiced the self-control he had proclaimed
himself to have the night before.  "Gettin' there," he muttered through
gritted teeth, following proper blowjob etiquette.

   "Mmm -"hmmm..."

   "Ready?"

   "Mm-hmmm!"

   "Ahh--!" Gwen's positioning and timing was perfect, the bottom of her
tongue covering his slit to blunt the first jet of milky white spend.  Even
in his pleasure he was careful not to try and push too deep, content to let
her milk him with fist and lips.  He'd save that urge to bury himself for
another time, for her cunt...he could feel her throat contract in a swallow
when he was finished, Gwen giving him a few more bobs of her head and
swipes of her tongue before letting him slide from her mouth.  She moved up
to lie beside him, a long gentle kiss waiting for her.

   "How was that?" She asked when their lips finally parted.

   "Practice all you want," Tim grunted, "but I'd say you've got that
pretty much perfect."

   ***

   Eric was certain the invitation meant bad news; what kind, he couldn't
be sure.  The way Tim had quietly approached him as he was leaving for the
day Monday, asking him if he might want to come up to the house for dinner
the next night but not let the other employees know, made him wary.  What
warranted a private dinner with his bosses?  Had he done something wrong?
Nothing he could think of...a failing business would be bad news, too;
either might mean the loss of his job.  That thought distressed him; he
liked the calm and sense of order here so much more when compared to the
chaos of his previous job that he had actually temporarily put aside his
goals of his own business.  But why would they confide something like that
to him?

   He was true to his word and didn't say anything to the others, waiting
until it was just he and Tim left in the shop, gathering the change of
clothes that had been suggested he bring and following his boss to the
house.  To the others there was nothing unusual about Eric being the last
to leave; he usually was anyways.

   Tim seems to be his same old good-natured self, the young man thought as
he stepped into the kitchen, and Gwen was as friendly as ever as she
greeted him before turning to take another look in the oven.  The others
had insisted she not always been so nice, not outright mean necessarily,
but kinda stuck up and bitchy.  He was sure they had been mistaking that
for her formality and professionalism.

   "Tim, perhaps you could offer Eric something to drink?" she asked rather
pointedly while examining the roast.

   "Beer?" The older man said with a grin, holding out one of the two he
held.  Eric quickly evaluated the moral dilemma being presented.  He really
hadn't drunk at all until his last job had introduced him to it; he found
he enjoyed beer, just not nearly as much as his old boss.  Drinking on the
job was pretty common there, not that he ever did it as he knew it was not
very smart or safe; did going to dinner with your employers count as still
being at work?  Screw it, he decided, taking the can from Tim.  Might need
more than one to get through this.  "Thank you."

   "Good heavens Tim, at least give the poor man a glass," she said with
mock exasperation while reaching into the cabinet above her.  "I'll be
right back," she announced, wiping her hands on a nearby towel, "I want to
check on Dancer.  His ear looked like it might be bothering him this
afternoon."

   Eric hurried out of the way, putting both glass and beer down to open
the door for her then turning back to his host.  "Do you, uhh, have some
place I could clean up and change?" he asked, shrugging his backpack off
his shoulder.

   "Use the master bath," Tim said, gesturing down the hall.  Door at the
end.  I like that shower better.  Should be some clean towels in there." He
watched the young man disappear before deciding he probably needed a shower
himself.  Sure as hell not gonna share like Gwen does, he thought with a
grin before going to retrieve some clean clothes.

   Gwen returned to find the kitchen empty.  She could hear the faint sound
of water running, a sure sign the guest bathroom shower was occupied. 
Eric, she guessed, and Tim's absence meant he's probably in ours.  She knew
the guest bathroom had clean towels, it always did, but while laundry had
been done over the weekend she couldn't remember stocking the supply in
their own bath.

   Gwen smiled to herself as she passed the closed door to the girl's
bathroom, imagining the tall and skinny young man on the other side naked,
and briefly wondered what kind of butt and package were hidden under the
loose work pants she had always seen him in.

   The fact the door to the master bathroom was closed as well did not
register as unusual until she opened it.  The frosted glass enclosure
reflected in the mirror was not opaque enough to completely obscure the
tall, slender blonde behind it--definitely not Tim.  Gwen quickly realized
her mistake and retreated even as she reasoned that Eric was facing away
from her and she had not been seen.  Emboldened, she lingered for a moment,
eying his reflection while staying hidden behind the door.  The view was
sufficient to make it apparent he lacked the body hair her husband had,
Eric's back and rear end relatively smooth.  His ass was every bit as firm
as she had imagined it to be, and the Slut shamelessly admired it.  He
turned to the side, enough to reveal the flaccid length hanging between his
legs, a limp shaft tipped with a pink head that hung over a loose sac.  Not
cherub-like at all, she thought while The Lady screamed at the invasion of
privacy being committed.  Gwen was forced to agree, taking one more look
before putting the towels on the vanity and quietly closing the door.

   A barefoot Tim, now dressed in jeans and Nelson Plumbing t-shirt, was
first to rejoin Gwen in the kitchen.  "If Eric asks, you put the towels in
our bathroom, alright?" she coached while accepting a kiss on the cheek.

   "I thought there were towels already in there..."

   "There are now."

   Their guest rejoined them as the last of the food was being put on the
dining room table.  Tim stifled a laugh -"his own attire was no match for
Eric's slacks, dress shirt and tie.  "You look very nice!" Gwen gushed to
the blushing young man.

   "Yeah, but lose the tie -"we don't wear 'em around here.  Get caught in
machinery..." Eric gratefully removed the restrictive adornment and
accepted their invitation to sit down.

   "Guess you're wondering why we asked you here tonight," Tim began as the
exchange of bowls and platters began.  "You probably know as well as
anybody how busy we are..."

   Eric nodded eagerly.  Which is why the business being in trouble just
made no sense.  The Nelsons were too careful to be losing money in an
environment like this.

   "So Gwen and I were talking, and we think it might be a good time to
expand to handle all the extra business coming our way.  We're getting
calls for way more jobs we can respond to.  But the two of us are maxed out
and we're getting' too old for some of this shit.  So, we're thinking of
letting someone buy in, become a minority partner.  You interested?"

   It was Gwen's turn to stifle a laugh at the way the bowl of green beans
the young man was holding froze mid-lift while his eyes widened in
recognition of what he was being offered.  "Own a part of -"your business?
Me?  You sure?  I'm kinda the new guy here..."

   "You're damn good at what you do and we think the business could use
some new blood moving forward."

   "Yeah but, a business like this...not sure if I could afford what it
would take to buy in."

   "We've got a pretty good idea how much a share would be...you buy as
many shares as you can afford.  Keep buying as you keep saving, up to a
third of the total.  When Gwen and me decide it's time to get out, you get
first shot at our shares.  Sound fair?"

   "Uhh, that sounds good -"really, really good, but shouldn't you be
offering this to Cliff?  He's been here the longest, and I'm, well, not
much older than Mike or Andrew..."

   Gwen smiled.  "Let's just say you're the second employee to know about
our plan, and Cliff wholeheartedly approves of our choice.  We want
somebody younger who's got good ideas and is going to keep this place going
for a long time, long after we're gone.  You might be young, but we were
your age when we started this place -"think of us being here long enough to
teach you the mistakes we made."

   "I don't know what to say..."

   "You don't have to give us an answer yet -"in fact, we don't want you
to. We've got a shitload of paperwork we're gonna send you home with. 
You're going to read through it, get a lawyer to help you understand it,
and think it over.  We don't need to start expanding tomorrow.  But for
now, nobody but us knows, right?"

   A stranger listening to the next two hours of conversation would never
have guessed that no agreement had been reached, suggestions being offered
and plans being made.  Gwen for the most part sat and listened,
occasionally giving her own thought to financial issues and office matters,
pleased with how excited her husband and their prospective partner both
seemed.  Her mind did wander when the discussions turned more technical
though, and invariably she found herself thinking about the upcoming
weekend.  Would she actually have to get naked?  On this, both the Lady and
Slut were agreed.  Of course.  Mrs.  Danning had made that clear and Danilo
had already taken pictures of her that way, for God's sake!  But where? 
For how long?  In front of how many people?  Men, women, or both?  What if
she was asked to do something and she said no?  Both her nerves and
excitement simmered and jumped throughout the evening.

   Gwen finally broke the discussion up just before eleven, reminding them
there was plenty of work scheduled for the next day, sending Eric home to
the little apartment across town he had recently rented to be closer to the
shop.  They saw him off together before Gwen made one last trip out to the
barn while Tim at least attempted to clean up the kitchen, gratefully
accepting his wife's assistance in tackling the biggest parts when she
returned.

   She was naked and bent over the bathroom sink washing her face when she
felt the familiar bump of Tim's erection against her presented rear end. 
She did not straighten, instead reaching for the washcloth she knew was
within reach, looking up into the mirror and smiling back at the
bare-chested man gently grasping her hips.  "I would have thought you'd be
exhausted given all the excitement today."

   "I guess making life-changing business decisions makes me horny.  You're
not too tired, are you?"

   Gwen straightened and reached back between them to pet his hardness. 
"I've got a few minutes..."

   "Good." Tim bent to kiss her neck while his hands roamed her stomach,
soon finding her breasts.  Gwen's simmering arousal from her post-dinner
daydreams flared at his touch and she closed her eyes, laid her head back
on his shoulder, and let him explore.  A finger pushed its way through her
cleft, rough and insistent, curling up to fill her opening.

   "You're wet," he grumbled in ear.

   She wiggled against his midsection.  "You're hard."

   "You noticed.  Come to bed." Tim steered her out of the bathroom,
letting her climb on the bed before joining her.  His finger again found
her sex while she stroked him.  "Longest I've seen this in quite a while,"
he murmured, running his fingers through her thatch.  "Maybe ever."

   "Mmmm...guess cutting it just makes it grow back longer."

   "Any idea if they're gonna trim ya this weekend?"

   "No, no idea..."

   "Maybe if they do you can ask them to cut the Nelson Plumbing logo into
it?  Might be good advertising."

   Gwen laughed, her hand leaving his staff long enough to lightly thump
him on the arm.  "Stop that!  How much of a close-up do you think it's
going to have?"



   "I know how close I'd be if it was me taking the pictures...think
they'll shave you bare?"

   "I honestly have no idea.  Why?"

   "Just never seen you like that before.  You've always had at least that
little patch up here." He lightly pulled at a tuft on her mons.

   "If they don't, Natalie has already made me promise to take off whatever
they leave."

   "Really?"

   "Really."

   "Maybe I could, uhh, be there, to, you know, supervise?"

   She breathed deeply, fucking back at the finger that was now
rhythmically sliding in and out of her.  "Whatever you want."

   "Right now I want this," Tim announced, rolling her onto her back and
spreading her legs with his hips in one smooth motion.  "Put me in," he
commanded.  Gwen reached between them to grab his length, rubbing the head
up and down her slit until it dragged against her opening.  Tim pushed, and
she gasped in welcome at the length that filled her in one stroke.

   Dart always turns right when given his head and Tim always starts in a
pushup, Gwen thought with a smile.  She knew his predictability in this
position better than any others -"it had been the only one they had
practiced for years.  He always started with a handstand above her, as if
trying to be a gentleman by keeping his weight off of the woman impaled
beneath him, his thrusting even and measured.  His politeness would always
give way as he grew close however, slowly collapsing to slide his arms
under hers, pulling her close as if she might get away, his face in her
neck as he fucked her with more force.  Up until a couple of years ago she
had been ambivalent about the body that would sink down to press her into
the mattress; it had meant that he was close to finishing and her duty
would soon be done.  From time to time being trapped under him gave the
Slut a chance to stir her arousal, suggesting she was helpless to fend off
his lust and might as well join in.  The Lady would always arrive to chase
the arousal away, however.

   But she had grown to love having him on her, to feel as though she were
on the verge of having the breath squeezed out as he used her for his
pleasure.  Spread for him this way felt like such a submissive pose,
perhaps not quite to the degree as being taken on all fours, but it was
much more intimate being face-to-face, or face-to-neck as it were.  She
loved having his masculine, hairy, sometimes sweaty body covering her, not
being able to do much other than grab his ass to pull him deeper or wrap
her legs around his thrusting hips and hang on for dear life.

   At least they were a good fit together, she mused as he grunted in her
ear.  What would it be like with someone who was taller than me, like Neal,
or even Eric?  Do all men collapse on their woman in this position, and
would that mean she would be smothered beneath a muscular chest?  And what
if the man between her legs were shorter?  Would his face be buried between
her breasts?  That might be fun...she smiled into Tim's neck at that one.

   At least with Neal and Eric there wouldn't be any chest hair to tickle
your nose, the Slut offered, reminding Gwen how the model at the toy party
and the man in her shower seemed smooth compared to the chest rubbing
against her nipples right now.  What it would it be like to have one of
them between her legs, the muscular body of a man but the smooth skin of a
woman?

   Tim had moved from in-control lover to man urgently looking to fill her,
his transition quicker than normal.  He was done while the woman beneath
him had just begun her climb to orgasm.  "Sorry, little quick on the draw
tonight," he murmured into her neck while bringing his breathing back to
normal.

   Gwen patted his ass in understanding.  "I noticed.  I'm glad you didn't
wait -"it's not all about me, you should get what you want, too."

   He pushed up off her, again the gentleman.  "I always do, and I want to
make sure you do, too.  Can I help you?"

   "If you want, you can get a couple of my things out of the nightstand
for me."

   "Sure.  Which ones?"

   "Uhh, my rabbit and umm, the one we made of you?"

   The vibrator was retrieved first, and Neal landed with a heavy thud next
to her hand.  Gwen looked up at her husband.  "You sure that one's okay?"

   Tim shrugged.  "I see mine going in ya all the time.  Kinda fun seeing
how you handle this one.  Weird, I know.  As long as it doesn't hurt you,
or make you uncomfortable, or anything like that," he added hurriedly.

   "I can manage," Gwen replied with a smile.  The thick rubber cudgel was
carefully positioned, and with a gentle push bulled her lips aside.  "Goes
in easier after you've been in me," she offered as it began to bottom out.

   Not like I stretched you out, Tim thought as he watched her fuck
herself. Just gave you some of my best lube.  His belief was confirmed by
the milky white fluid that clung to the veiny cock as it withdrew, the
giant penis with the plunger-like head wetly squishing in and out, pulling
his seed back to run down the bottom of her ass and darken the comforter
below.  The buzzing head of the vibrator on her clitoris soon applied the
coup de grace.  Gwen recovered sufficiently to sit up and playfully
admonish Tim for not telling her about the mess she was making before
running to the bathroom for a washcloth to blot the bedcover dry; the dildo
was taken to the bathroom sink to rinse it of their combined juices after.
She noted with a smile that her hand was cleaning it in a way that she
imagined would have eventually produced an eruption in the real thing,
likely one that would have required wiping down the countertop and mirror.
Given where you were pointing that thing, it would have been your face and
boobs, the Slut laughed.

   ***

   Tim was home by lunch on Friday and discovered the trailer already
hitched to Gwen's truck, his wife waiting patiently for his return before
loading Dart.  He threw some of his fishing gear in the back and they were
on the road an hour later, Tim at the wheel while Gwen sat lost in thought
in the passenger seat.

   "This is all hers?" he asked, motioning to the fields and woods lining
both sides of the long private country road to the estate after they had
been on it for over a mile.

   "Mm-hmm."

   "I see what you mean about her likin' her privacy.  The stone walls
musta cost a fortune, and I gotta guess people would've given up and turned
around by this point."

   "Mm-hmm.  The driveway is coming up soon.  On the right."

   Truck and trailer rolled to a stop outside the massive wrought-iron
gate, and Tim rolled down the window for the equally massive security guard
approaching.  "Mr.  and Mrs.  Nelson?" he asked.

   "Yes, that's us..."

   "My apologies, we sent for someone to come down from the stables to show
you the way there when we saw your truck turn on to the road, but they
haven't arrived yet.  If you wait just a moment -""

   "You saw us turn on to the road?" Tim asked.  "You got helluva good
vision."

   "Security camera at the turn off from the public road," the guard said
with a shrug.  "Others along the way.  Can't be too careful."

   "Guess not..."

   "It's alright," Gwen offered.  "A guide isn't necessary.  I've been
there before -"I know the way."

   "Of course," the huge man offered politely.  "If you're sure then, I can
have them meet you at the stable gate?  Once again, my apologies..."

   "That'll be fine and there's no need to apologize, really." The gate
opened at the guard's motion back to the shack, and Tim pulled the truck
through.

   He took in the massive mansion at the top of the rise surrounded by
perfectly manicured lawns and gardens while steering for the drive to the
right at his wife's direction.  "Damn, so this is how the one percent
live..."

   "The one percent of one percent," Gwen guessed out loud.

   The stable compound that lay some distance down the drive did nothing to
change his mind about their host's wealth.  The steel gate slid open as
they approached, a tall brunette standing next to a white Mercedes SUV on
the other side apparently waiting for them.  Gwen studied the woman as she
approached while Tim rolled to a stop.  She looked like a model, hair
elegantly styled in a bun, a knee-length grey skirt encasing long slender
legs.  A crisp white shirt was sufficiently unbuttoned to show a broad hint
of cleavage.  The fabric did nothing to hide the lacy bra beneath, and the
bra did little to contain the oversize breasts fighting to overwhelm it.  A
white silk scarf about her neck completed the outfit.

   "Monsieur and Madame Nelson?" The woman asked in a distinctly French
accent as she approached the open window, "Mademoiselle Rayburn sends her
regrets, but she is in New York this weekend along with Madame Danning and
has asked me to ensure all your needs are met.  My name is Michelle, I tend
to the Madame's guests up at the estate.  This weekend I am happy to be at
your disposal.  If you would follow me, I will take you to where your horse
will be stabled." She turned and retreated to the SUV, both Tim and Gwen
watching a very firm ass roll beneath the tight skirt.

   They slowly trailed the woman past the rows of barns and riding rings
Gwen remembered from her last visit, towards the edge of the compound where
it bordered the woods and open fields that she had ridden in that day. 
They stopped at the end of the last long row of stalls where two
neatly-dressed stable hands stood waiting, hands behind their back as if at
parade rest.

   Michelle rejoined the couple as they exited the truck, gesturing to an
open stall near the end.  "This one, yes?" she asked the waiting hands.

   "Yes'm, that's the one," one replied while both hurried to the back of
the trailer.  They were mildly surprised to see Gwen get there first,
already working the latches to the swinging double doors.

   "It's alright -"I can get him," she said with a smile, already moving
into the back with her horse.

   "Are you sure, ma'am?  We're here to help -""

   "No, it's fine, really, I'll have him right out." Gwen began to pet
Dart's neck while softly telling him how good a traveler he was.

   Tim joined them at the back of the trailer.  "I've learned to never get
between my wife and her horse," he said with a shrug and a smile.

   The stable hands smiled apologetically and stepped back.  They had never
seen any of Mrs.  Danning's guests come in pulling their own trailer, and
her guests definitely did not move their own horses.  She certainly seemed
happy to do it, however...they just hoped it had been noted they had
offered their services and been turned down.

   The stall was immaculate, fresh sawdust and sand on the floor, the
wooden walls clean of any splinters or scrapes that might tear expensive
horse flesh.  A small trough was filled with clean water, and another
trough stood waiting for food.

   "Will this do, Ma'am?" one of the hands asked anxiously, unused to
standing around watching one of Mrs.  Danning's guests do their work.  "The
stall is air-conditioned should it get too hot out."

   "It will be fine, thank you.  And will we be staying nearby as well?"

   "Of course, Madame, you are just a few meters that way -"" she gestured
at the wooden wall to her left -"" close enough to be a short walk from
your horse, but far enough to be away from the stable's activity
and...smell.  When you are satisfied all is well here, I will be happy to
show you."

   After Dart had been told that she would check on him soon, Michelle led
them down a path through some nearby hedges and a grove of manicured pines,
the stable hands hurrying along as baggage carriers for the overnight bags
Tim and Gwen had brought.  Another line of hedges opened into a wide
expanse of grass surrounding a large two-story Bavarian-style lodge built
into the hillside behind it.  "Madame Danning hopes this might suit your
needs for the weekend?  It is not quite as comfortable as the manor, but it
is closer to your horse, and where you will be needed this weekend..."

   "Not quite the size I had imagined when I heard bungalow," Tim observed
with a laugh.

   "Madame Danning uses it for more intimate gatherings of her friends,"
Michelle explained.  "Private gatherings.  It is rather, ehh, secluded?"

   "It's just fine.  Does she have other guests staying here this weekend
as well?"

   Michelle looked back at him in confusion.  "Oh no, Monsieur, it is just
you and the Madame that will be staying here?  Of course, I will be here to
see to your needs, and there will be staff here as necessary...will that be
alright?  Allow me to show you should you have any doubts -"I assure you it
is quite cozy!" They were led in and around the elegant rooms, the master
bedroom alone two-thirds the size of their entire house.  The stable hands
left their bags there and excused themselves, assuring Gwen that Dart would
be their primary concern.  Michelle stopped in the dining room.  "Your chef
Marta will be here shortly to begin dinner preparations.  I was told to
inform you that Mr.  Castigalli would be arriving to meet with you a bit
later, perhaps 7?  Perhaps you would care to dine before he arrives?"

   "I'm hoping for my friend to arrive about 7 as well.  I was hoping to
wait for her, but that would be rude to the others...can you make sure she
is directed here when she arrives, and there is something for her to eat?"

   "Of course, Madam, her arrangements have already been made.  She will
report to you here.  In the meantime perhaps you would like to sit and
relax until Mr.  Castigalli arrives?  Might I suggest the veranda?  It is
lovely this time of day." She led them out a door off the living room a
huge pool that formed a sort of grotto in the hillside behind the second
floor.

   "Beautiful," Gwen said, looking out the stoneflagged deck surrounding
the sparkling water, the grassy hillock around that flecked with rock
outcroppings and waterfalls that in turn splashed into carefully
constructed rocky creek beds that ran back to the pool.  "Wish I brought my
suit."

   "I'm sure I can find you one if you wish," Michelle offered, "although
if I may be so bold, others have found them unnecessary.  It is rather
private here."

   The older woman smiled.  "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

   "Now," Michelle continued, "may I offer you a refreshment while you and
Monsieur Nelson enjoy the afternoon?  We have a fully stocked bar and
refrigerator and I am not unfamiliar with drink preparations.  How may I
serve you?"



   A New Way of Seeing Things Pt.  03 Ch.  27

   Dinner was served poolside as shadows crept across the grotto, Michelle
appearing from time to time to serve the multiple courses and refresh their
drinks.  The smells and tastes of the various plates being brought to the
table temporarily refreshed the hunger Gwen's excited nervousness had
suppressed, and she made a point of at least sampling everything that was
put before her and Tim.

   It wasn't the traditional case of nerves that was causing her distress,
she was forced to admit; it was the fear that had been growing since she
had accepted this crazy dare and was now reaching a fever pitch.  She had
known the unique feel of this special kind of fear ever since childhood,
the misery it brought tempering her joy of riding competitively.  It was
the fear of failure, of embarrassing herself and her family in one of a
hundred ways, of being found out as a fraud.  It was Miss Ritter who had
expertly manipulated the fear to teach her student the concentration and
focus necessary for the single minded pursuit of a goal, of ignoring all
mental, physical and emotional distraction to achieve it.  Her mentor had
made skilled use of it both as a tool and a weapon, and Gwen had admitted
to herself long ago the methods had been effective and necessary as a means
to a greater end and really not so bad as the Lady had wanted her to
believe.  It would be nice to have someone like Miss Ritter at the moment,
to tell her exactly what her goal for tomorrow was and force her to focus
on it...  Gwen stared across the pool and thought about that time in her
life before Tim.

   "Concentrate, foolish girl!"

   She was again standing in the living room of Miss Ritter's apartment,
naked, as had become customary when she was summoned.  This night was not
about tending to her instructor's physical demands, though -"tonight she
was there to commit her mentor's very specific instructions for an upcoming
competition to memory, to practice the sequence in her mind, to visualize
every last action, right down to strength of a gentle nudge of her boot
against the horse's flank at just the right moment.  Gwen stood in a
predesignated spot in the center of the wood floor, eyes closed and turning
in place while her hands twitched imaginary reins with the deftness needed
to guide a well-trained horse through a series of intricate maneuvers.  Of
course The apartment's resident was there too, circling her, occasionally
demanding to know exactly where her charge was in the performance and what
she needed to be aware of at that moment.

   Her instructor provided distraction as well, plenty of it, trying to
break the girl's concentration, dropping a book or pan, letting out sighs
of disgust or muttering threats of returning the girl to where she had come
from, just another stable hand shoveling horse shit.  Gwen was not to open
her eyes and check for the source of the noise or open her mouth and ask
for Miss Ritter's forgiveness but to continue to work the horse in her
mind. There were other methods used to break the student's focus as well,
like the occasional knock on the door.  Gwen had opened her eyes in
surprise the first time, afraid the knock would be answered and reveal the
naked girl inside, but quickly saw her instructor standing by the doorway,
an annoyed look on her face and knuckles poised to rap again.  "Stupid
girl, are you afraid someone might see you like this?  Does it matter? 
What they think of you has no effect on your performance.  Or is it you
wish them to see?  Do you wish to become the object of their self-pleasure,
or help them satisfy their lust?  Your obvious urge to rut must be subdued
and put away until I decide your focus is no longer required.  Perhaps you
should practice your routine out in the barn where you can be certain you
would be seen?  Would that be better?" Gwen hoped it was just a threat but
knew better than to answer, instead closing her eyes and desperately trying
to remember where she had left off, hoping Miss Ritter took this as a
sufficient admission of wrongdoing.  To her relief it was, at least that
night, but the distraction soon became a favorite of hers, even pretending
to open the door for a visitor.  At least she hoped she had been
pretending. She never actually heard or felt another other person in the
room, but Miss Ritter spoke as though there were, speaking in the third
person of the naked girl in the middle of visualizing a canter.  The Slut
was not the persuasive voice she was now, but she still saw great
excitement in the possibility of being exposed like that, unable to do
anything about it.  For all she knew, her voyeur -"or voyeurs, there might
have been more than one -"would be someone she associated with every day,
maybe even Clint.  The old man always seemed to be mentally undressing her,
anyways.

   She had sometimes imagined in moments of weakness that he or the others
had secretly been watching the night Miss Ritter had grown exasperated with
her student's progress and made good her threat, making her practice the
routine naked and on horseback in the riding ring below the apartment.  The
Lady made concentrating even more difficult than usual, screaming long and
loud of the dangers of being caught despite the doors she knew to be locked
at this late hour.  Gwen did everything she could do to avoid displeasing
her mentor any further -"she had not wanted to imagine the consequences of
that.  To her great relief she was finally released to find her clothes and
bed down her horse with a simple wave of the hand and a "I trust that in
the future this will serve to remind you how much easier it is to
concentrate in a more private setting."

   There were other means of testing her focus, ones of a more physical
nature.  Less than perfect posture was corrected with a firm push of an
ever-present riding crop against her student's lower back, although it
sometimes landed with a light slap under her breasts and was levered up for
the same effect. .  Her nipples were a favorite target of her mentor,
flicking and circling them with the tip of the crop, looking for a flinch,
hesitation or even change of breathing from her student.  Or the crop might
slide between her legs, occasionally from the front although Miss Ritter
seemed to prefer inserting from the rear.  It was then drawn back with
agonizing slowness, whether to just tease or threaten further punishment
Gwen could never tell, but she always hurried to correct whatever she
guessed was the perceived imperfection.  The polished leather knob would
occasionally find its way between her buttocks to threaten her rosebud, as
well...

   It was the command to kneel that Gwen anticipated and dreaded the most.
She would do so with legs spread as if astride her mount, and while all of
the normal distractions were fair game a vibrator would also be propped
just a fraction of an inch from her exposed clit.  The device would buzz
maddeningly, taunting her while she visualized her routine and described it
to Miss Ritter.  Any relaxation of her pose risked contact with the device,
and whether incidental or intentional the craved physical sensation would
weaken her concentration and would always be followed by a sharp rebuke and
the slap of the riding crop against her buttocks.

   During these more intense periods of preparation it was clear that the
only pleasure she would be allowed would be in the pleasure of the training
itself until Miss Ritter was satisfied that the specific goal she had set
for her student had been reached.  Gwen would then be permitted to
celebrate her achievement, to let her happiness and pride come to the
surface for a short time once she was out of the public eye before being
given the next goal she would be working towards.  Just as importantly to
the young woman, she would also be allowed a release from the physical need
that had been building as part of the celebration, a sort of reset before
the task ahead.  Even on these occasions Miss Ritter would be taken care of
first, Gwen's effort to please the older woman only making the wait worse
for what she hoped would be given her.  If her mentor had found her effort
'satisfactory' she would be instructed to give in to her physical weakness
while Miss Ritter observed, even then assuring her student's orgasm was an
exercise in control.  When she had been found 'more than satisfactory', her
instructor would perform the deed, cold and clinical in her efforts. 
Still, Gwen truly felt most honored when her climaxes came via Miss
Ritter's hand.  The orgasms themselves had been wonderful, mostly free from
the normal stigmas of shame and guilt because she could tell herself she
"had no choice", but they was also the surest sign her efforts had exceeded
expectations.

   After her marriage Gwen had done her best to make use of the skills Miss
Ritter had taught her, but in the absence of a strong figure to set the
goal and enforce her efforts to achieve it, it was not the same.  She
couldn't bring herself to admit that her instructor's methods had made use
of her sexual arousal both as a distraction and eventual reward; her own
self-imposed abstinence during preparations for a competitive event was
little different than her normal abstinence and anything she might reward
herself after the event was certainly not worth the guilt and shame that
would come with it.  Her performances were still certainly good, among the
best wherever she rode, but the fear of being found wanting eventually
outweighed the pleasure and she turned to her daughters' efforts.  Gwen
employed some but certainly not all of her mentor's methods and was
thankful Tim was there to tactfully remind her she was training little
girls and not world-class competitors.

   It would have been nice to have someone like Miss Ritter in preparing
for this weekend, she mused, but who?  Certainly not Cricket, although she
found the idea of ceding control to someone so young intriguing; Tim might
possess the ability to impose his will on her but seemed unwilling to do
so. Natalie might be more inclined but she doubted that her sister-in-law
could keep a straight face while doing so.  Gwen sensed that Liz had the
right combination of serious purpose and questionable methods to bend
someone to her will, and the Slut liked the idea of finding out, but she
lacked the encyclopedic knowledge of horsemanship that her former employer
did.  And even now she would know as much as Gwen did about what was to be
required.

   She had actually called Mrs.  Danning's assistant the week before,
hoping she would be put in touch with the young photographer to get a
better sense of his expectations, but all she was given was a message from
Danilo telling her she would just "need to be herself and do what she
always did." Gwen had no idea what that even meant; without knowing she
could not put a sense of order to it, could not script the routine that she
and Dart would perform for the camera that would serve as her judge and
audience, and without that mental map the risk of failing was very real
-"and very frightening.

   The dessert plates were being cleared when Danilo Castigalli made his
appearance, Morris Barofsky with him as well, along with a middle-aged
woman whom the photographer introduced as Rose, his makeup artist and
hairstylist.  The young photographer gently grabbed Gwen's shoulders and
kissed one of her cheeks then the other while the elderly tailor took her
hand and gallantly kissed the back of it.

   "You look great," Danilo pronounced with a grin.  "Wow -"your hair grows
fast.  Love how long it got."

   "Oh -"umm, thanks.  Longer than I'm used to..." Wait until he sees the
rest of it, the Slut laughed.  That grew pretty fast too.  Good thing it
was cut so short to begin with.

   How are you feeling?"

   Gwen gave an apologetic smile.  "Nervous?"

   "Tell you the truth, so am I, a little bit," Danilo said, returning the
smile.  "But really excited to see what we can come up with!" Gwen chose
not to confess her own underlying excitement or the reason for it.  "I
don't want to waste your time, or Mr.  Barofsky's," he continued, the
tailor giving a shrug to indicate he really didn't mind, "so I was hoping
we could get you to try on your wardrobe so he can make any last-minute
adjustments before they're needed tomorrow.  Okay if we do that, then you
can get back to your peace and quiet?"

   "Of course.  We have nowhere else to be tonight, anyways." She glanced
at Tim as if for confirmation, his turn to shrug in response.

   "Great!  I believe we left the things you need to try on in the living
room?"

   Morris gestured back into the house.  "If you would, dear lady.  I'm
anxious to see how close I came to everyone's expectations."

   She allowed herself to be led back into the living room.  The tailor
quickly unzipped the first bag, removing what appeared to be jeans and a
white t-shirt, eying the garments critically for a moment before handing
them to Gwen.  She took them and looked back expectantly at the old man,
waiting for something more to be retrieved.  This couldn't be it...this is
what she wore to muck stalls at home.  "I was asked for something...basic,"
he explained, as if reading her mind.

   Gwen smiled and turned for the privacy of the bedroom.  "Uhh, they are
tailored to be worn without undergarments," Mr.  Barofsky gently reminded
her.  She nodded without looking back and closed the door partway behind
her.  She stood naked a moment later, exhaling sharply to steady her
nerves, and slid the shirt over her head.  It was clean but didn't feel
fresh out-of-the-package new, the fabric soft and broken in rather than
crisp.  The fit was snug, much tighter than she normally wore for chores.
Her upper body was sharply defined beneath the cloth, hiding nothing about
the flatness of her stomach, the gentle curve of her waist, or the size and
shape of her breasts.  The jeans were also clean but well-worn and
exhibited the same fit as the shirt, molding to her rear and threatening to
do the same to her crotch and outline of her sex.  Cowboy lingerie, Gwen
thought to herself with a wry smile as she examined her reflection in the
mirror, noting the dark circles of her areolae just visible beneath the
white fabric.

   Danilo looked pleased when she rejoined them in the living room, Mr. 
Barofksy equal parts pleased and relieved.  Tim had the look he got when he
was having impure thoughts...

   "Perfect!" the young photographer declared while the tailor hurried to
her side.

   "Not quite.  As always, excuse the touch," Morris mumbled, not waiting
for a reply as his fingers inserted themselves under the waistline of the
jeans and wiggled.  "Not too tight?  I'm especially concerned about the
inseam.  They should not be uncomfortable down there."

   "No, it's fine," Gwen answered truthfully.  "The fabric seems to give a
little more than the denim I'm used to."

   "A little bit of stretch fabric in the right spot goes a long ways," the
tailor said absentmindedly.  "I gathered some trousers from second-hand
shops, some of them quite stretchy, took them apart and used the best
pieces to put them back together.  The crotch is comfortable?  I would
never forgive myself if your delicate parts were treated poorly."

   Gwen blushed a bit, suddenly focused on the rub of soft denim against
her sex.  "It feels fine," she replied with a smile.

   He turned to the photographer.  "But we should complete the outfit and
see the rest, yes?" Gwen was quickly given a pair of boots to step into,
cowboy style and unadorned, true working boots, scuffed and worn but well
cared for.  A black leather belt with a simple buckle was handed over as
well, and finally a pair of finely crafted work gloves, the leather thin
and supple, the kind that you might use with a two-hundred dollar manure
fork.  These were all added to the outfit, and she stood for inspection,
turning a slow circle for Danilo's critical eye.  She was asked to bend and
squat as well, the jeans more flexible than she would have ever have
thought and very aware of them pressing on and separating her labial lips.

   "Perfect," Danilo finally repeated.  "Very nicely done, Mr.  Barofsky."

   He shrugged.  "Nothing, really." He reached into the bag and pulled out
two more shirts, both seemingly identical to the one she wore.  "I made
several," he explained, "should one become soiled.  I made other trousers,
too.  Perhaps you could try them on as well?"

   Gwen gathered them and turned to retreat to the bedroom.  "Forgive me
for being so forward, but you might try them on here?" the old man asked,
his voice soft and apologetic.  "I would like to see if the clothes are
leaving any marks on your skin that might tell me it is too restrictive. 
It would be quicker as well, and we would be on our way sooner, leaving you
and your very patient husband more time to enjoy the evening...."

   She thought to ask Tim his opinion, but there was little doubt in her
mind what that was.  The elderly man had seen her naked, Danilo too, had
actually taken pictures of her like that, so...what the hell.  She
responded by sitting down to remove the boots, the young photographer
hurrying to help her pull them off.

   It didn't even occur to her that any sense of modesty she might have
felt at one time over disrobing in front of a roomful of people was absent,
replaced by a professional detachment and a warm glow of excitement.  Fear
intruded even here though, a fear that at this last minute they might find
her body now lacked the necessary attributes and call the whole thing off.
Gwen stood for the tailor while he examined her, even putting a foot on a
nearby coffee table to allow him to look more closely for marks at the
junction of her legs.  She did notice Danilo and Rose with heads together
in quiet conversation, apparently eying her critically as well, their
inspection pausing between her legs, the photographer's undiscernible
comment getting quick nods from the stylist.  Three more shirts and three
more pairs of jeans were put on and taken off in succession, each fitting
the same way, each put through their paces with turns and movement.

   Morris was reaching into the next garment bag even as Gwen was gently
pulling the last t-shirt over her head.  He delicately removed a white
dress shirt on a hanger, a pair of white riding breeches hanging from it as
well.

   The shirt was reminiscent of ones worn in the many dressage events Gwen
had competed in over the years, but there were marked differences.  It was
silk, for one, very sheer, and lacking a collar.  It was also much tighter
than anything she would have ever have worn then, , Gwen thought as she
held her breath to button it up.  Just like the t-shirt, the sheerness of
the fabric did little to soften the lines of the torso and breasts beneath,
and while the dark circles of her nipples were better hidden, their erect
outline of was even more prominent.  The jodhpurs followed form, more like
exercise pants than proper ring wear, lacking the traditional leather seat.
That would make sticking to the saddle more difficult, she thought with a
grimace, not to mention making them even more form-fitting over her rear
end.  The old tailor had a hard time resisting the urge to reach in and
smooth the lines of the shirttails trapped underneath the waistband,
instead anxiously advising Gwen where to smooth out the slick fabric
against her skin.  A black riding coat was next, but this one was not
designed to fasten as was tradition; the lapels were cut short enough to
make that impossible and instead seemed to frame the rider's chest and
stomach rather than obscure them.  Black knee-length riding boots of
extremely high quality, gleaming wickedly from the shine they had received,
and white silk gloves completed the outfit.  And this would be dressage
judge lingerie, she decided.

   She was in the midst of changing out of the second of the three replicas
when Michelle appeared from the hallway.  Gwen, bottomless and the shirt
down to its last button, hesitated at the woman's entrance, the Lady's
responded to the surprise appearance by insisting she cover up in the
presence of those who had no business seeing her like that.

   "Excuse my intrusion, Madame," the young woman began, apparently unfazed
by the sight of a group of people surrounding the nearly nude woman
standing in the middle of the huge living room, "but you did ask to have
your groom brought to you when she arrived.  Shall I have her wait
until..."

   "No, that's alright Michelle, she doesn't have to wait."

   The woman stepped back and motioned to the room, Cricket cautiously
creeping forward.  Her reaction was somewhat different, eyes widening in
surprise at the scene she had walked in on.  "Oh -"sorry, didn't mean to
interrupt anything -""

   "You're not," Gwen replied with a smile, her fingers still on the last
button.  "I'm just trying on my outfits for the weekend.  Kristen, I'd like
you to meet Danilo Castigalli, Morris Barofsky, and...Rose."

   "Nice to meet you, charmed," came the murmurs of greeting while Gwen
undid the button and shed her remaining cover, naked while she reached for
the next shirt to repeat the process.  Cricket drifted over to where Tim
stood, arms crossed and grinning at the show his wife was putting on. 
"Wow," she mouthed to him, and he nodded knowingly.

   "Any problems finding us?" Gwen asked as the last button was fastened at
her neck.

   "Oh-uh, no, the directions were fine and I had a guide from the gate the
rest of the way."

   "Did you eat yet?"

   "No, uhh, I came straight here after work..."

   "Sorry, we had an early dinner, but I asked them to save something for
you."

   "Thank you, but Michelle already took my order, said it would be waiting
for me back at my room when I get back there."

   Gwen stopped again.  "Oh -"I thought you were staying with us -"I have
to imagine there's more than one bedroom in this place." While there was
more than enough room in their bed, appearances had to be maintained...

   Cricket laughed.  "I have to imagine there's more than twenty.  But
they've got me staying in an apartment over Dart's stall -"my stuff is
already there.  It's nice, nicer than my own place!"

   "But you should stay with us..."

   "I have a job this weekend, remember?  I'm supposed to keep an eye on
your horse while you're..." she motioned to her friend struggling to bring
the tight riding breeches up over her bare rear end, "busy.  Let me do my
job,'k?"

   Gwen smiled, her hand now under the waistband smoothing out the
shirttails trapped there.  "If you change your mind..."

   "I know where to find you.  Down the path through the enchanted forest
to the castle.  Got it.  And now, I'm going to make sure Dart is all tucked
in.  I was told we've got an early start tomorrow.  And besides, I'm
hungry." Cricket smiled.  "See you tomorrow?"

   "You will."

   "Oh, and you look incredible!  I can't wait to see you and Dart
together!" The young woman kissed Tim on the cheek, then hurried to Gwen,
kissed her cheek as well, and excused herself.

   "So yeah, speaking of early start times," the photographer announced,
"will it be alright if we have you there at 9?"

   Gwen laughed.  That wasn't at all early.  The trucks were gone by then
at home.  "And where is there, exactly?"

   "Riding ring 12, the one attached to your horse's barn.  Rose will be
here at 7 to take you to the shoot.  She'll do your hair and makeup there,
help you get dressed..."

   "Oh -"alright...I'm usually up at 5, but I'll set an alarm just in
case."

   "Just tell Michelle what time you would like to get up and she'll make
sure it happens."

   The fear could wait no longer.  "So now can you tell me what you want me
to do once I get there?  I really don't know what to do..."

   "What you do at home, or what you did in the competition ring, that kind
of thing," Danilo casually answered.  "A day in the life kind of thing. 
Nothing I'm sure you haven't done many times before.  We'll do a shoot in
the morning in the ring, break for lunch and let you get freshened up, then
an afternoon shoot outdoors."

   I've never worn anything like this any day in my life, she thought
nervously.  "You said I'd be needed Sunday?"

   "Oh -"yeah, probably just the morning.  We'll, uhh, sort out your outfit
for that after I get a chance to look at what we get from tomorrow."

   Not much help at all, Gwen thought sourly.  More details--tell me
exactly what I have to do -"I need to be ready!  She could tell the young
photographer was not prepared to go into detail, perhaps because he doesn't
know himself, the Lady offered, and she continued to worry in silence.  The
last set of clothing was tried on, the fit as perfect as everything that it
had followed, although Morris grumbled that he would have some last minute
adjustments to make but guaranteed it would be back in time for Gwen to
dress in the morning.  It too was soon removed for the old man to pack back
into the garment bag, and an uncomfortable moment of silence followed as
Gwen stood there naked, waiting for further instructions.

   "Well, ahh, I think that does it for tonight, Gwen," Danilo finally
offered, nervously moving to kiss her cheek, trying to avoid any other
physical contact with the nude woman.  "Get some sleep -"busy day
tomorrow!" Morris excused himself as well after another peck on her hand
and a quick glance up and down her body.  And then it was just she and Tim.

   "Guess I should go get dressed," she offered with a half --smile.

   "Uhh, yeah, I guess, if you want..."

   She had not noticed the two robes lying on the end of the bed before,
white and fluffy, and decided one would be sufficient cover between now and
bedtime.

   Tim grunted his approval as she rejoined him on the veranda, softly lit
by guttering torches scattered about the grotto and the pool itself.

   The click of Michelle's high heels on Italian marble announced her
approach.  "Marta would like to know if you desire anything more from the
kitchen before she retires for the evening?"

   Tim and Gwen looked at each other, then to the woman.  "No, I think
we're good thanks.  Tell her the meal was wonderful."

   "I will!  May I get you another drink?"

   "No, I think we're fine.  We'll be heading to bed soon."

   "Of course!  If I may be so bold, you had mentioned using the pool, yes?
Perhaps you should before you retire?  I find it such a treat for the
senses to go from cool water to a warm bed..."

   "We didn't bring our suits and I will not have you going to look for
one," Gwen said softly, her voice motherly stern.

   "I understand, but as I said before, they are not necessary!  Many of
Madame Danning's friends and guests enjoy a certain...freedom...here, out
of the public eye.  I like to think I have seen it all," she said with a
laugh.  "But I can assure you of my complete discretion.  You and Monsieur
are welcome to enjoy any freedom you might desire."

   There was a story behind that last comment, Gwen decided.  "Thank you,
I'll--we'll keep that in mind."

   "Of course!  Please do not hesitate to call for me if you need anything
at all!" Her footsteps receded back across the tiled floor of the living
room behind them, leaving only the sound of crickets and water softly
cascading down the rock walls.  They sat in silence for some time, Gwen's
eyes closed and breathing measured, frustrated by her feeble efforts to
focus and keep the fear at bay.

   "You nervous?" Tim finally asked.

   "Very."

   "You'll be great, don't worry...maybe you should take Michelle's advice
and go for a swim before bed.  That seems to relax you at home..."

   "I think she's still in the house."

   "She did say she's seen it all before..."

   She pretty much did in the living room earlier, Gwen thought with wryly.
Concentrating wasn't working on her fear, maybe distraction might...

   "She did..." Gwen looked over at her husband.  "I will if you will."

   "I will if you will."

   "You first." Tim rose from his chair, flashing a cocky smile at her the
whole time as his shoes were kicked off, shirt pulled over his head, pants
and underwear dropped around his ankles.  She giggled at the sight of him
standing there in nothing but a pair of gym socks, and even those were gone
a short time later, his almost-erect length and balls bouncing gently as he
balanced on one leg then the other to pull them off.

   "I thought this was to relax," Gwen said with a smile, nodding to his
midsection.

   He shrugged his smile now one of mild embarrassment.  "Lots of ways to
relax."

   "You know we're in somebody else's house, right?" She stood and did her
own check of the house before pushing the loose robe off her shoulders,
accepting Tim's hand as he led her down the steps into the cool water.

   He turned to kiss her once they were chest deep, and Gwen wrapped her
body about him in response, letting herself be buoyed by strong arms and
the water.  "They're not home." His erection ignored the cold and bumped
insistently against her sex.  She was in no hurry to give him access
though, enjoying the feel of the masculine body she was wrapped around, his
lips against hers.  They stayed this way for some time, her arms around his
neck, Tim's hands grabbing her ass firmly to support her.  Miss Ritter
would not approve of this at all...

   Gwen ground her hips sensuously against the hardness she was perched on,
finding it pleasant but not nearly enough so to dispel the impending sense
of doom she felt.  "Ready to use that?" she murmured in Tim's ear.  Despite
her own feelings, it would be unfair to leave him unsatisfied...

   The hardness continued to slide through her furrow, bumping against her
opening, looking for a way in.  "What do you think?"

   "Not here.  In a nice warm bed." Gwen was gently dropped to stand on her
own two feet before reluctantly unwrapping her arms from around his neck.
She turned in the chest-deep water, swatting away the hand that was
insistently squeezing her cheek, then froze at the sight and sound of
Michelle hurrying out on to the deck with towels.  Apparently she was
telling the truth about seeing it all, Gwen thought, because apparently the
frequency with which she was anked in front of her was not enough to
visibly fluster her.  Several responses and actions were considered before
she decided to stay where she was and wait for the young woman to act
first. Tim for his part, felt a twinge of modesty and moved behind his wife
to better shield the young woman from the possibility of seeing the
erection that lurked just below the surface.

   "My apologies for intruding, Monsieur and Madam but I was asked to
deliver a message.  I saw that you were sharing an intimate moment and felt
it best to wait until you were, shall we say, satisfied.  But I can now see
you are perhaps moving on to continue in the comfort of your bed, yes? 
Again, my apologies and I will speak quickly." She looked over Gwen's
shoulder at Tim.  "Monsieur Nelson, Vincent, the man who will be your
fishing guide tomorrow, would like to know what time he should call for you
tomorrow morning?"

   Tim blinked back in surprise, very aware that the interruption had done
nothing to diminish the hard on hidden behind his wife's back.  "Would,
uhh, 7 be too early?"

   Michelle smiled.  "I would think that would allow you time to enjoy each
other's company as well as time for sleep.  I will make certain Vincent is
here at that hour.  Shall I wake you and the Madame together?"

   "Sure.  Oh, he'll need to get me back to my truck so I can pick up my
stuff, though,"

   "He will take you wherever you wish to go.  I will tell him you will be
expecting him at 7 o'clock." The young woman was now standing at the top of
the stairs, holding a towel open in the expectation that one of the naked
bodies would step into it.

   Gwen hesitated, sensing the woman would not leave until the towel was
wrapped around her charge.  She climbed the steps, moving carefully to
avoid slips trips and falls like she had always warned the girls, and
stepped into the luxurious fabric.  Hands began to quickly dry her,
including several passes over her breasts and one between her legs, and
then Michelle hurried to repeat the process for Tim.  He awkwardly turned
away from the woman as he climbed out, doing his best not to appear as
though her were pointing at her.  He was dried too, getting a casual swipe
or two over and under his manhood before Michelle stood back and let the
couple wrap themselves in their towels while she gathered Gwen's robe and
Tim's clothes.  She escorted them to their bedroom, carefully hanging what
had been discarded poolside while they waited in embarrassed silence.

   Michelle turned the covers down at one corner of the massive bed then
looked back at them.  "Will there be anything else?  I feel badly I
interrupted your private moment.  IS there anything I might do to help you
regain the mood?  Whatever you might desire, I am at your service."

   Gwen looked back at the woman, the Slut certain of what was being
suggested, the Lady in agreement and aghast.  Michelle's blouse had somehow
begun to become unfastened between dinner and now, very full breasts
threatening to spill out from the deep cleavage the undone buttons had
created.  "Oh-uh, no, thank you very much, but I think we are set for the
evening."

   "Very well, I will leave you to resume your intimate moment.  I'm sure
you have things well in hand -"" the young woman looked at Tim's
towel-covered hard on and smiled -"" but if there is any way I can help,
please do not hesitate to ask..." She turned and left the room, quietly
shutting the door behind her.

   The couple looked at each other, waiting to see if they were truly alone
at last.  Gwen smiled and broke the nervous silence.  "Guess she saw that
when you were getting out of the pool," she said with a smile and a nod at
his towel-covered length.

   Saw it?  Tim thought.  She dried it off.  "Uhh, sorry about that...it
has a mind of its own and no conscience.  "It was thinking of you, though."

   "I'm sure it was..." Gwen tossed her towel on the bed and moved to kneel
in front of her husband in one fluid motion.  He eagerly anticipated what
was coming and tossed his own to join hers, his still-undiminished hardness
released to bob in front of his wife's lips.  She gently kissed the tip,
pursing her lips around the spongy head, then opened to slide the length
between them.  Gwen took her time, tasting the mix of chlorine and the
steady drip of his pre-cum, allowing Tim to hold her head and ease himself
into a gentle fucking of her mouth.  He finally pulled away with a shudder
and a groan.  "Let me do you."

   She was laid back on the edge of the bed with legs spread but her
attention was elsewhere, her mind trying to prepare for tomorrow despite
not knowing what to prepare for.  The tongue busy at work in her sex was
just a pleasant distraction from her focus, and she knew there would be no
orgasm tonight.  She soon found herself wanting Tim to finish sooner than
later, if for no other reason to stop the exquisite torment his distraction
was causing.  "I'm ready for you now," Gwen announced to the head between
her legs.  "How would you like me?"

   Tim looked up and grinned.  "All fours, if you don't mind.  I think this
bed's just the right height for that." It was, and she waited patiently
while he adjusted her position like a craftsman readying his workspace,
pulling her back closer to the edge, spreading her legs a little more so he
would fit snugly between them, one hand on her hip to hold her steady while
the other lined himself up to enter her with one smooth stroke.  He groaned
at the wet warmth that enveloped him and Gwen's body was soon rocking in
time to his energetic thrusts.  She resolutely looked ahead at the
headboard that seemed a long ways away across the huge bed.

   He was drawing close to his orgasm, his thrusts finishing with a small
slap as skin met skin, his breathing more labored.  "Tim," she asked over
her shoulder, "can you come outside me tonight?  I, umm, don't want any,
uhh accidents in my outfits tomorrow..." The Slut doubted there would be
any of his seed left in her by then, but he was pushing rather deep at the
moment and she really didn't know how long it would take to find its way
out...

   He snorted with effort.  "Be glad to."

   "And try not to get any on the sheets.  I'm sure they're very
expensive."

   Another snort, this time accompanied by a short laugh.  "Yes dear..." a
few final frantic thrusts and he pulled back, letting his cock spring free
enough to slide it up between her asscheeks.  It continued to piston up and
down the valley, the head rasping against her rosebud with each stroke,
until he pulled her to him with a grunt, trapping the length between them.
She could feel the warmth of his sperm as each grunt added more to the pool
on the small of her back,.

   Gwen managed to remain upright and on all fours despite the weight of
her spent husband trying to push her down into the incredibly soft
comforter.  With a final contented groan, Tim shifted, drawing away from
her, standing back with hands on hips to admire his work.

   "Can you get something to clean me up with?" she asked, still looking
forward, afraid to move and perhaps let the wetness somehow slide off of
her.  He returned quickly, gently wiping away his orgasm.  Finished, he
bent to kiss his wife's still-presented sex.

   Gwen shivered at the touch of his lips, but knew his efforts tonight
would be futile.  She collapsed and rolled to her side.

   "Want me to take care of you now?" Tim asked, a little confused by his
wife's new pose.

   "No, I'm fine.  A little nervous about tomorrow, hard to concentrate, if
you know what I mean."

   "Oh...got it.  Sorry.  I could have gone without, you know."

   "I didn't want you to."

   They were soon beneath the softest sheets either had ever felt, Gwen
staring up at her reflection in the mirror above the bed as she tried to
pull her thoughts together before giving up with a last sigh.  She turned
to her side, quietly cuddling Tim, both letting the excitement the day and
evening catch up with them.  Gwen was still awake and wrestling with her
fear long after the start of Tim's heavy rhythmic breathing but eventually
lapsed into sleep too, her dreams fueled by her frustrated arousal,
scattered and lurid, old favorites and new situations.  She could remember
none of them when she was awoken by the sound of Michelle's softly calling
as she carried a tray of coffee across the room.  "Madame?  Monsieur?  My
apologies, but it is time to get up.

   Gwen opened her eyes, suddenly aware that Michelle was in the room,
checking to see if her naked body was covered while her vision cleared.  To
her relief she was, although a quick glance to her left told her Tim had
kicked the covers off overnight, his naked backside presented to the young
woman setting the coffee service on a nearby table.

   "Would you like me to pour, Madame?  Is there anything I can do to make
waking up more pleasant for you or Monsieur Nelson?"

   "No, we're fine, Michelle.  We'll be out in a moment."

   "Of course.  Breakfast will be ready for you." She retreated, the door
closing with a soft click.

   Gwen playfully slapped her husband on his bare cheek.  "Time to get up."

   "I'm up," he grumbled, breathing deeply.  "I just didn't want to roll
over while she was here and show her everything."

   "So now you're shy?"

   "She saw all of me last night," he replied, rolling over to kiss his
wife.  "Don't want to seem like I'm flaunting it.  And besides, my ass is
not much to look at."

   "I disagree.  As a matter of fact, I think you should be the one posing
this weekend, not me."

   "I'm pretty sure Mrs.  Danning doesn't want pictures of a naked guy
fishing.  You're the one she wants.  Good choice, in my opinion."

   Breakfast was a sumptuous affair enjoyed on the veranda that Gwen mostly
looked at rather than touched.  She had plenty of time after getting ready
to listen to her fears before the ATVs for she and Tim pulled up.  They
parted with a kiss, Gwen getting a reassuring "you'll be great" from her
husband before Vincent whisked him off at a speed she thought a bit unsafe
for that kind of vehicle.  Rose was a bit more sedate and the two women had
enough time to introduce themselves and discuss the upcoming weather ("hot
and clear") before driving past Dart's now-closed stall and pulling up on
the other side of the building in front of an immense riding ring.  A young
man was standing next to a door as if guarding it, pulling it open at the
women's approach.  Rose led the way down a hall to a door on the right, the
small room behind it housing a sink, counter and stylist's chair.  The
dressage outfits from the night before was there as well, hanging from a
coat rack.

   "Can I get you anything before we begin, ma'am?" the older woman asked.
Something to drink?"

   The wild idea that wine might serve as liquid courage flashed through
her mind before the Lady chased it away with a reminder that it was still
early morning.  Besides, being drunk on horseback was not going to make
this better..."No, I'm fine, and please, call me Gwen."

   "Alright, Gwen," Rose said with a smile.  "In that case, here's a robe
to change into -"" she was handed something not unlike what she had dropped
by the pool the night before -""just us girls, so you can hang your clothes
over there."

   Gwen stripped quickly and donned the robe, taking the chair Rose had
waiting.  Her hair was washed and styled, braided and piled formally on the
back of her head in a rather severe bun, the classic dressage ring look. 
Makeup was applied sparingly although Gwen thought the red lipstick a
little shocking.

   "Okay, uhh, one other thing before you get dressed," Rose said slowly,
almost apologetically.  "Dan thought a little trim...down there...might not
be a bad idea.  Nothing much," she added quickly, taking Gwen's silence for
hesitation, " just a little scissor work, a couple of passes with a
razor...don't worry, I've done tons of Brazilian waxes so I know my way
around down there.  But don't worry, I'm not taking much at all, just a
trim!"

   I guess that answers if I'm still going to get naked, Gwen thought as
she allowed the chair to be reclined back before a pair of stirrups were
deployed that reminded her very much of a gynecological table.  She allowed
her ankles to be placed in them and knew the robe she wore hid little or
nothing from the woman who had wheeled up between her legs on a stool.  The
robe was unceremoniously untied and flipped back.  "Pardon the touch," Rose
murmured, and Gwen heard rather than saw the scissors begin their work.

   "If I you don't mind me saying so," the stylist said softly, "you have
lovely pubic hair.  So soft and straight, almost like you style it."

   "I didn't even know styling down there was a thing!  I haven't touched
it since Danilo asked me to let it grow after I agreed to this, promise!"
Gwen babbled.

   "I can assure you it's a thing," Rose replied, concentrating on her cuts
like she was shaping a bonsai tree.  "I have several clients.  I have more
who prefer bare because it's the thing nowadays, which is also why I do
Brazilians."

   She was surprised just how little cutting was done, some on the margin
of skin between her legs and her lips, a little more around the perimeter
of her mons, apparently to straighten up the lines much like one would do
before putting on a bathing suit.  The smooth drag of the razor was even
quicker, and Gwen could feel the stylist intently studying the finished
product before pronouncing herself satisfied.

   The chair was brought back to a sitting position and Rose moved to where
the morning's outfits were already hanging "Okay, let's get you dressed and
delivered." The shirt was retrieved and the stylist held it out for an arm
to be slid into it.

   Gwen did as she was asked, standing still while Rose worked to button
her up.  The stylist stepped back, making a circle around her half-naked
charge, then retrieved the breeches and helped her into those as well.  She
did not bother to ask permission before reaching into them to smooth the
shirt down in a very business-like manner, occasionally stepping back to
check her work before returning.  Finally satisfied, the boots were
retrieved, and to Gwen's surprise, a black silk choker that was tied about
her throat, the bow riding low on the back of her neck.  The black coat was
next, the fit carefully checked and imagined pieces of lint removed, and
Gwen was handed the gloves last.

   "Take a look and see what you think," Rose suggested, and Gwen turned
for the first time to look at herself in the mirror.

   That's not me, she thought at first glance before deciding that yes, it
really was.  Miss Ritter had always thought the more daring outfits were a
cheap attempt to distract the judges from the rider's glaring inadequacies,
and this was far beyond anything she had ever seen in a competition ring.
The Slut thought she wore the outfit well, very well; the shirt and
breeches felt almost like a second skin but looked elegantly slutty, like
high-society porn while the jacket somehow seemed to accentuate the look.
She considered again how many people would see her like this and what they
would think, but ultimately knew the only person it really mattered to was
the woman who had commissioned it.  "It's uh, daring," was all she could
offer.

   Rose beamed.  "I would say so.  But I have to say with that body you
were born to wear it.  If you're half the rider Dan says you are these
photos are going to start a new style trend." Gwen's stomach lurched at the
reminder of the standard that was expected of her.  "Ready?"

   "Do you think so?"

   The stylist continued to grin and opened the door.  "Let me show you the
way."



   A New Way of Seeing Things Pt.  03 Ch.  28

   Rose led the way down a brightly lit cinderblock hallway to a metal fire
door and pushed it open with an echoing bang and creak to reveal a large
enclosed space on the other side.  Gwen immediately recognized the dirt
floor beyond surrounded by concrete walls and garage doors as the staging
area between the arena to her right and the outside world to the left.  She
had been in spaces like this many times, focusing herself on the task
ahead...

   The woman did not stop, instead turning to another metal door on the
left and pushing that one open too.  Gwen's eyes struggled to adjust to the
brightness as she followed along into the sunlight beyond, but was at least
able to make out an expanse of grass in front of her.  A cart path drew a
grey line between her and a trailer a hundred feet away where a horse was
tethered to the trailer -"Dart, she knew right away, and there was a small
cluster of people gathered a few yards to his right.  The group turned as
one to look at the woman getting her bearings outside the open door. 
Danilo was there along with a pair of stable hands, a young blonde woman
and a petite young brunette, both dressed in khakis and dark green polo
shirt.  That's Cricket, she quickly decided of the smaller woman, unsure
how she had gotten into the standard uniform of Mrs.  Danning's stable
hands.  There was a young man with them as well, dressed more casually in
t-shirt and jeans...Gwen took a breath and walked towards the group in the
practiced measured step Miss Ritter had demanded in these situations. 
Leave no doubt you are in control...

   "Gwen, you look incredible!" the young photographer called across the
expanse of grass as he came to meet her.  "How are you feeling?"

   "Same as last night," she admitted.  "I really hope you and Mrs. 
Danning haven't made a mistake."

   He stepped back, eying her critically, then grinned.  "I'm really sure
we haven't!"

   "It's Dart who looks incredible," she deflected, moving to her horse,
looking back in wonder at the young women coming up to join her.  "This is
the best he's looked in years, maybe ever!  Is this your work?"

   "I'm Hannah, ma'am," the blonde said, "and to tell the truth, your groom
did most of it.  I tried to help, though."

   "We both worked on him," Cricket chirped nervously.  "Hannah had the
instructions on what was required, so I just did what she said."

   Gwen circled the horse, inspecting him, finding that her exacting
standards had been met.  "Who did the braids?" she asked after noting the
effort that had gone into his mane, appreciating how they hung to the right
as was proper for the show ring even if her own outfit was most certainly
not.  "I always hated doing those..."

   "Uhh, Kristen did," the young blonde volunteered.  "I was told to do the
tail as well, but she said you prefer it to be left unbraided so I banged
it instead.  I hope that's alright."

   "It is, and Kristen is right," Gwen said distractedly, her head next to
Dart's as she said hello, "a braid makes the horse carry the tail stiffly.
Leaving the tail unbraided helps demonstrate the animal is supple all the
way through its back.  And the bang is cut beautifully."

   There was a tinge of relief in the young woman's voice.  "Thank you,
ma'am."

   Greeting completed, Gwen turned back to the photographer, unsure what to
do next.  "I'd like you to meet my assistant, Marco," Danilo offered with a
wave of his hand.

   The young man shuffled forward.  "H'lo." Gwen shook the tentatively
extended hand while evaluating its owner.  Young and wiry with a shock of
black curly hair, young enough to still be in high school, she thought with
a hint of alarm, noting that his attempts to look anywhere but the body in
front of him were occasionally failing.  Just wait until the shirt comes
off, the Lady darkly reminded her.  He probably won't even pretend to look
the other away.

   The young photographer clapped his hands.  "Ready to get going?"

   Gwen squared her shoulders and checked her posture.  "What do I have to
do?"

   "Like I said, just what you always do.  I'm going to have you walk down
from the building to the trailer, get Dart ready for the ring, take him up
and put him through a routine."

   She felt her stomach lurch.  "I'm really sorry, I don't have a routine
ready..."

   "You don't have to," Danilo said brightly.  "I'll be calling for you. 
Are you alright with that?"

   Gwen felt a wave of hope-tinged relief surge through her, the Lady
trying to inject a note of caution.  She had not had someone calling out
her program since childhood, and even then it had been easy enough for her
nine-year old self to get through the instructions without much effort.  It
should be even easier now, she dared hope, given how much experience -"and
age -"she had accumulated.  Just follow the instructions, do what you're
told..."Oh -"of course, yes."

   Great!  Now," the photographer continued, "a couple of rules.  Number
one, don't look at me or the camera unless I tell you to.  Just pretend I'm
not even here, go about your business.  Two, be yourself.  Trust your
muscle memory, don't do anything you wouldn't normally do, just get your
horse ready to ride, and then...ride the way you did that day at your
house."

   The Lady's need for order took over, deciding that if this perversion
was to continue there should at least be some structure to it, and quickly
presented a list of tasks to be done.  Dart was already impeccably groomed,
not much to do there, but it would only be correct if Gwen did it as well.
He would have to be saddled...she looked around, wondering if his tack had
been retrieved.

   "Everything you need is in there," Danilo said with a nod towards the
trailer, reading her mind.  "Take a look, get yourself familiar with it, do
a quick groom and then we can send you back to the building."

   Gwen stepped up into the cool shade of the equipment bay, Cricket and
Hannah hovering just outside the door.  Mrs.  Danning had supplied the
tack; a very high-quality dressage saddle, finely polished double-bit and
reins.  "We made sure Dart was alright with the fit and feel of everything
last night," Cricket assured her, "then polished it up, not that it really
needed it.  I tried to guess how I thought you might like things arranged."

   "Thank you for doing that.  You know me too well." She stepped back out
in to the warmth of the morning sun to where the photographer was waiting
for her.  "I think I've got it.  But..."

   His look changed to one of concern.  "But what?"

   She tugged at the lapel of her coat.  "Well, I don't normally wear this
when I'm grooming or saddling up...it gets in the way...or these," Gwen
said as she held out the gloves she clutched in her other hand.

   "Then don't wear them now.  Put 'em on when you normally put 'em on,
okay?" he suggested with an easy smile.  She stepped back into the trailer,
identifying a safe place to hang the coat before taking it off and
carefully laying the gloves on the top of the collar.  His assistant
-"Marco, was it?-is really going to love this look, she thought wryly, not
that the coat was hiding that much...

   Danilo was holding his camera when she returned, Marco a computer
tablet. "Ready?"

   She nodded grimly.  "Ready."

   He led the way, Gwen following the young photographer, his assistant
following her, no doubt with his eyes glued to your practically naked rear
end, the Lady sniffed, until Danilo stopped at the cart path.  "Okay, go
back up inside, and when you're ready, come on out and go tend to your
horse.  Remember, be yourself and don't look at me, okay?"

   She nodded and continued on alone, opening the door and carefully
shutting it again.  She stood there breathing in the smell of cool dirt
mixed with the heady scent of horse, finding some peace and her bearings in
its familiarity.  "Here we go," she muttered to no one, her mind firmly set
to the task, and stepped back out.

   The photographer was where she had left him, Marco a few steps behind,
the others nowhere to be seen.  She sharply reminded herself of the
photographer's instructions and focused on Dart standing quietly in the
shade of the trailer, her gaze steady as each step brought him closer. 
Gwen willed herself to let routine and muscle memory carry her.  Danilo's
advice to forget he was even here proved to be exceedingly difficult, the
camera clicking rapidly as she walked by, continuing as he crossed behind
her, circling.  Probably getting some good shots of my rear, Gwen thought,
the Slut reminding her he had probably gotten an equally good look at her
front.

   Dart turned his head to casually acknowledge her approach, shaking a fly
off his ear in greeting.  "Hello friend," she murmured, her nose to his,
very aware the photographer was not far off capturing the moment, "do me a
big favor and try and do what you can to make me look good, and I'll try
really hard not to make you look bad." The horse dropped his head to nudge
her chest in response, and Gwen set to work.  She went through the motions
of a brief grooming, not that he needed it, before retrieving the tack and
saddle.  They were of the highest quality -"of course they were, she
thought with mild amusement, and true to Cricket's word, Dart seemed to
accept them well.  After a final check of the saddle's cinch, she retrieved
her coat and put it on, saving the gloves until the horse's lead was
untied.

   "Okay, lead him up to the ring and stop in the staging area," Danilo
softly directed, and as if on cue, the garage door began to roll up,
Cricket and Hannah waiting inside.  Horse and rider walked slowly, Gwen now
staring at the grass in front of her but not seeing it, concentrating as
she always had when preparing to compete, composing her thoughts and
quieting her nerves, fighting her fear.  She didn't look up at the young
women as they stepped back into the shadows just inside the door, instead
tearing her eyes from the path she had set for herself to look back at Dart
and quietly praise the horse.

   The door to the ring was open now as well, the space beyond cavernous
and thankfully apparently empty.  The cool breeze of air conditioning
escaping the big building flowed past her, and Gwen was thankful that at
least she would not be riding in the rapidly-building heat of the morning
sun.  "Okay, take a quick break," Danilo said with a smile as he joined
them, "you're next rider in.  Doing okay?" He smiled and quickly huddled
with his young assistant, the pair talking quietly while he reviewed
something on the tablet.  Once satisfied, he turned back to the group. 
"Gwen I'm going to ask you to mount and dismount a few times -"I want to
get that from various angles.  Ready?" She nodded and he moved to a spot
ahead of her.  "Okay, when you're ready."

   Gwen swung a leg up and over Dart's back six times, reversing the
process each time to dismount and wait while Danilo moved to another spot.
The photographer was finally satisfied and the rider a little surprised to
find herself just a bit winded from the repeated effort.  She was
instructed to take her place at the entry to the ring.

   The next couple of hours were almost anticlimactic, Gwen falling into
old routines as the photographer called out half-passes and flying changes
of leg, passages and piaffes, many times putting himself dangerously close
to Dart's path as the camera fired almost continuously.  There were several
breaks too, horse and rider given a chance to briefly rest while Danilo
reviewed his efforts on Marco's tablet.  It was during the first break Gwen
reached down to sweep away a bit of imaginary dirt on her thigh and froze.
Despite the air conditioning, sitting astride a working half-ton animal
produces heat, and heat produces sweat.  In this case, the sweat had turned
the sheer white fabric covering her legs and crotch nearly transparent, the
trimmed triangle of her thatch now visible beneath.  The shirt had also
lost what little ability it had to provide cover, and her areolae stood out
like obscene buttons beside the too-short lapels of her coat.  The Slut
suggested it was not just sweat making her pants transparent, and Gwen
fervently hoped her undeniable arousal would be mistaken for perspiration.

   She urgently motioned for Cricket to join her.  "Could you see from
where you were how much this outfit shows?" she whispered, flicking her
eyes down her body in meaning.

   Cricket nodded and giggled nervously.  "Yeah, sometimes, if you knew
where to look...like when you were mounting and dismounting, your bum was
kinda showing through your seat.  Nobody seemed to mind, though," she added
helpfully.

   "Of course they didn't," Gwen replied with a roll of her eyes, and
thought about asking whether it might be a good time to take a break and
change into the spares Mr.  Barofsky had prepared, but decided she would
probably be losing the soaked garments soon enough anyways.  The suspense
as to if -"when, the Lady continued to remind her -"that was going to
happen was beginning to weigh heavily on her.  Memories of that night in
the ring with Miss Ritter were refreshed and comparisons were impossible to
dispel; though the fear of discovery she felt that night were diminished,
her excitement from the sheer perversity of it all was even more
pronounced.

   She had not been called to remove anything by the time Danilo eventually
called out "exercise finished, rider go tend to your horse." Dart was
spurred into a smart trot back to the staging area where Gwen waited for
Danilo to instruct her to dismount, imagining her pubic hair standing out
like a dark arrow pointing to her sex when the leg swung wide over the
horse's back.  She knew it was impossible to hide anything as she led Dart
back to the trailer while Danilo continued to orbit and shoot, Marco doing
his best to stay out of his brother's way.  She thought about leaving the
coat on while she unsaddled the horse but knew routine was routine and it
would be a mostly useless gesture anyways.

   "I think I've got what I need," Danilo announced after she had finished
her tasks and given the horse a light kiss on the nose in thanks.  "Gwen,
Rose is going to take you back to the house so you can freshen up, get some
lunch, and then she'll take you out to the site for the afternoon shoot. 
Sound good?"

   Gwen turned in surprise.  That was it?  The light breeze against her wet
clothes was a reminder that it might feel nicer against bare skin.  "Did I
do something wrong?" she blurted.

   His look was one of genuine confusion.  "Wrong?  No!  Why would you
think that?  You were great, exactly what I think Mrs.  Danning was hoping
for.  Your horsemanship is wonderful to watch!  You and Dart really seem to
connect.  I can only hope I was good enough to get that on film."

   "So, you don't need me to do anything else right now?  No more posing?"

   "Nope, not until after lunch.  The grooms will take care of Dart for
you. You go take a shower and get something to eat.  You were working
really hard out there -"you're soaked!"

   And you're sweaty, too, the Slut guffawed.  Gwen blushed.  "Sorry, but
it was warm in there, even with the air conditioning..."

   "Nothing to apologize for -"it was actually the look I was going for
-"you know, two athletes in sync.  Now go and relax a little -"we'll see
you this afternoon."

   She accepted the ride from Rose after giving Cricket instructions she
didn't need and getting politely shoo'd away.

   The break was brief but welcome.  Gwen resisted the urge to relieve her
sexual tension with a quick touch in the shower, promising herself
something more with Tim later, the ever-present fear and nervousness of the
afternoon schedule making the choice somewhat easier.  She donned a robe
for the lunch served by the pool and then she was back into her own clothes
for the short ride to the afternoon's shoot.

   Rose steered the ATV down a fragrant path surrounded by Southern pine
into an open field Gwen remembered from her ride with Mrs.  Danning.  A
small wooden barn had been added since she had last been here, impossibly
weathered and worn for the short amount of time since its construction. 
"That barn was on one of Mrs.  Danning's ranches out west," Rose explained.
"She had it taken down piece by piece and rebuilt here at Mr.  Castigalli's
request."

   She definitely spared no expense for this, Gwen mused as the ATV rolled
towards a bus-sized RV set a short distance away.  Danilo and his assistant
were waiting for her there, Dart, Cricket, and Hannah nowhere in sight. 
Their whereabouts was her first question for the young photographer after
they greeted each other.

   "They're in the barn, out of the sun," he explained, "figured since
we'll be starting there..."

   She was led into the bus that was to serve as her dressing room, her
hair set in a loose ponytail and makeup sparingly applied before she got
into the jeans and t-shirt she had tried on the night before.  Just as in
the morning, one accessory was added, a folded red bandana wrapped and tied
about her throat.  At least no cowboy hat, she thought with some relief. 
She always looked so dumb in them...With a satisfied smile, Rose pronounced
her ready and escorted her out the door to where the others now waited.

   "Dart took the morning ride really well," Cricket volunteered before
being asked.  "Not tired at all or favoring anything as far I can see." She
looked to Hannah for confirmation and got a quick nod in response.

   "Thank you both for taking such good care of him.  It's such a relief
for me." Danilo quickly set up the afternoon's events, an outdoor repeat of
the morning's performance.  Gwen could feel the heat of the midday sun
beginning to reverse the effects of her shower even as he talked, the back
of her shirt quickly sticking to her.  The trickle of sweat forming between
her breasts meant the front would soon be in the same condition.

   The photographer again circled her as she walked to the barn through
knee-high grass, gaze steady and head high as if she were walking to the
winner's podium in the ring she had ridden in that morning.  She was
thankful to reach the shade of the barn but knew the stillness of the air
inside would do nothing to dry her shirt.  Its interior was a simple
affair, and authentic; Dart loosely tied to a rail at the far end, hay
piled deep on either side of the split upper floor.  His tack was nearby as
well, simpler affairs than what she had used for the ring but still high
quality, the western saddle nicely broken in yet still in immaculate
condition.  She smiled at the grooming brushes she had been left.  Even
those were off a more basic design.  They had apparently thought of
everything.

   Dart looked different as well, the braids gone, the hooves clean but no
longer brightly polished.  Even his tail had somehow been magically
un-banged, regaining its more natural look, albeit just slightly shorter.
Of course, only Gwen would ever notice the change in length...

   She again pressed her nose lightly against the horse's while Danilo
snapped away.  "Take two," she murmured, "you were perfect this morning. 
Can we try it again?" She worked at her accustomed pace to ready him, the
effort and the still heat of the barn soaking her, a wet spot beginning to
stain the tight denim between her legs.  It's just sweat, she tried to
convince herself, nobody's going to think you've wet yourself.  Maybe
they'll think it's something else, the Slut teased.

   The shoot progressed as the morning's had, Gwen leading the horse from
the barn before being asked to mount and dismount while Danilo orbited the
pair, Gwen certain her breasts and the spreading dark spot would be
impossible to miss on the images he was capturing.  Danilo called out her
moves from there, more trotting and galloping as would be natural for a
horse and rider in this element, light on the technical maneuvers they had
expertly displayed in the ring.  There were frequent breaks too, chances
for Gwen to confirm just how transparent her shirt had become and how much
her wet spot continued to creep down the inside of her thighs.  Just like
before, she was not asked to change into the fresh clothing she was certain
was in the RV, or just remove it altogether.

   And then it was over, Gwen riding Dart back to the barn's open doorway
before dismounting to lead him in, using buckets of water and sponges to
cool down the sweating animal, giving him the customary kiss on his nose
when she had finished with him.  Gwen knew she should be relieved that she
was still dressed, albeit showing much more than would be right in polite
company of course but still leaving at least a little to the imagination;
instead she felt disappointment in not being asked to at least go topless
or even further -"the cool breeze against her sweat-soaked skin would have
been refreshing, she reasoned.  Cooling off with a sponge bath right now
might make a good photo...she dismissed the thought.  Mrs.  Danning wanted
classy, not slutty, and she was not about to volunteer that pose anyways.

   "That was awesome!" Danilo gushed with genuine enthusiasm.  "You're done
for the day!  Go and relax -"you've earned it.  Rose will run you back to
the house."

   "And we'll get Dart back to his stall," Cricket volunteered.  "Nothing
to worry about."

   "I'm not," Gwen replied with a smile.  "I know you've got it." She
turned to Danilo.  "What's the plan for tonight?  Do I have more wardrobe I
have to try on?  I didn't think Mr.  Barofsky designed anything else..."

   The young photographer nervously averted her gaze and began to walk away
from the others, motioning to Gwen to follow.  He walked until the group
was out of earshot, but lowered his voice anyways.  "There's, uhh, no
wardrobe tomorrow -"not really, anyways, if you know what I mean," he said,
continuing to study the ground.  "If you're still okay with that, that is.
I mean, if you've had second thoughts about that I might be able to work
with what I've already got..." It was clear that was not what he preferred.

   "No, I said I would," Gwen replied steadily, unsure if her tone did
enough to make it sound like it was her obligation rather than her wish. 
"Where?"

   "Oh, I've got another spot picked out a couple fields over...very
private," he assured her.

   "So not a lot of people will be there?"

   "Just the same people as today."

   "About that...your assistant...he seems...young?"

   "Marco?  He's eighteen, but I promise he'll be very professional about
-"you," he stammered.  "He hasn't said or done anything I should know
about, right?  If he has, please tell me and I'll beat his butt." Gwen's
look of surprise made him hurry to continue.  "He's my brother, so I can do
that," he explained.  "He graduated high school earlier this year, wants to
follow along in the family business so to speak, so I hired him to make
sure he understands having the Castigalli name doesn't prevent you from
doing grunt work.  If you'd rather he not be there -""

   "No, that's alright," Gwen reassured him, "as long as you think having
to spend his day looking at a n -"" she stopped, some small part of her not
wanting to say the word naked and therefore admit she knew that part of the
plan -""an old woman won't be too much for him."

   "Stop that.  You might be older than him, but I'll bet you still turn
heads.  Younger men find mature women with your kind of confidence very
attractive.  So, uhh, I'd like to get an early start, is that alright?"

   The Lady laughed at the blurring of confidence and immorality.  "Of
course, How early?"

   "Well," he hesitated, as if delivering bad news, "I'd like to get some
photos in the early morning light?  Can Rose pick you up at 6?"

   "That'll be fine.  And no wardrobe?"

   "Not much." He smiled weakly.  "We'll get you squared away when you get
to the site.  Still alright?"

   "Still alright." The photographer excitedly repeated just how pleased he
had been with the results of the day as they walked her back to the waiting
ATV, Cricket and Hannah heading to the barn to tend to Dart after they had
said their goodbyes and the vehicle had pulled away at a cautious pace.

   She was dropped off at the house a few moments later, Michelle waiting
at the door for her and escorting her up the wide central stairs to where
Tim waited by the pool.  He was slouched in a lounge chair, the robe about
his body opening at the knee and getting dangerously close to exposing him
further up, a beer in his hand, and a smile on his face.  He looked up as
she bent to kiss him.  "Good day?"

   "Good day," he rumbled.  "You?"

   "I didn't get fired, so I guess we get to stay the night.  Did you
shower already?"

   He grinned.  "Swim."

   Gwen knew he had not packed a bathing suit either and smiled.  "Show
off. Want come help me clean up?  I want to hear how your day went."

   "I, uhh, would love to, but I think you have an appointment..."

   Michelle hurried in with the glass of wine Gwen had asked for on her way
up the stairs.  "Madame, would you like me to arrange a limousine to take
you wherever you might like to go tonight?  I understand you will not be
needed again until tomorrow morning."

   Gwen laughed.  "No, I think we would like to stay in tonight, if that's
alright."

   "Of course!  I will arrange for your dinner right away.  In the
meantime, your massage therapist awaits you any time you are ready."

   She looked at the woman in confusion, then at Tim.  "Your appointment,"
he suggested.

   Gwen still wasn't quite sure she had it right.  Massage?"

   "Yes Madame, Madame Danning makes her massage staff available for her
guests after a day of riding.  And as you are a particularly honored
guest..."

   Memories of the massages Miss Ritter would give as a reward for good
behavior came to mind, clinical and a bit rough but certainly therapeutic,
and even her instructor's touch felt erotic when it was the only touch she
knew.  But her most recent experiences with the feel of more caring hands
had been more pleasant in most ways.  She would rather have Tim's hands on
her at the moment, but there was time for both; having the aches and pains
worked out first would make working out the lust that much more enjoyable.
She hurried through her third shower of the day and returned the veranda
just ahead of Michelle.

   "If you would follow me, Madame?"

   "May my husband come with me?"

   "Of course!  There is room for Monsieur as well."

   Tim smiled and held up his glass.  "Can I have my beer in there, or is
it off-limits to alcohol?"

   Michelle laughed.  "Liquid spirits help soothe the human one.  I will
check on you from time to time to ensure your glass does not become empty."

   The couple was escorted down a hallway to a warm softly-lit room large
enough for the four massage tables in it as well as the chairs and sofas
scattered along the walls.  A buxom woman in her thirties greeted them,
auburn hair framing black-rimmed glasses set on a pleasant face.  "Good
evening, my name is Margaret." She motioned to the first table.  "Ma'am, if
you would disrobe and lay face down on the table, I'll be glad to begin. 
Sir, please feel free to take a seat anywhere you like."

   Gwen waited until the woman turned back to the table holding her
supplies before slipping off the robe and giving it to Tim.  She draped the
provided towel across her buttocks and closed her eyes as the therapist
turned back to her.  "Do you prefer oil?" the voice next to her ear asked
softly.

   Miss Ritter had never used it, but Natalie had shown her the
benefits..."Yes, please."

   It was warm against her skin, making it tingle just a bit as firm
feminine hands pushed the liquid across her shoulders and the base of her
neck before beginning to knead and push at the muscles beneath.  Gwen let
out an involuntary groan of pleasure at the feel of soreness exposed and
pushed away by strong fingers.

   The fingers lightened on her skin.  "Too hard?" Margaret asked softly.

   "No, just right," Gwen mumbled.  "It's very nice."

   "Just let me know if my touch becomes uncomfortable."

   The fingers took their time working up her neck, probing and pushing
then backing off to gently stroke.  Her ears were next, a spot Gwen had
never realized how erotic having them touched and fondled could be until
Margaret's attentions made her arousal flare.

   The hands worked down Gwen's arms and she was surprised how the push of
a thumb into the palm of her hand revealed soreness there as well.  Miss
Ritter had never been this thorough, always limiting her efforts to torso
and legs, front and back.  The always moving hands eventually retreated to
where they had started, occasionally pausing their kneading and pushing on
the muscles of her lower back to apply more oil.

   Gwen felt the edge of the towel lift slightly.  "Would it be alright if
I remove this to work on your glutes?"

   "Yes, that's fine," she murmured, and felt cool air on the freshly
exposed flesh.  A splash of the warm liquid followed, splashing on one
cheek of her ass -"a little like Tim finishing on me, she mused, although
his doesn't tingle like that -"then the other.  Margaret spread it around
with gentle swirling strokes that eventually turned into a firm press of
her fingertips to reach the sore muscles beneath.  The hands left to
deliver another splash at the base of her spine, the aim apparently bad as
Gwen felt a rivulet running down the valley between her cheeks, eventually
tickling its way across her rosebud as it obeyed gravity.

   Margaret must have noticed it too, her finger deftly inserting itself
between Gwen's partly spread thighs to land just short of her most intimate
spot and catch the stray droplet.  She dragged the oil back up the way it
had come, Gwen twitching in surprise while her puckered ring reflexively
winked.

   "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the therapist soothed, her
fingers already working the remains of the stray oil into the skin it had
been intended for.

   "That's alright," Gwen quickly answered, not wanting the woman to become
cautious now.  "I'm glad you got it before it got all the way -"down
there."

   "It's all natural, very safe, even down there," the woman softly
reassured her, continuing to work.  "Many of Mrs.  Danning's guests will
attest to that." Her hands and fingers worked all of Gwen's rear end,
several times coming within fractions of an inch of her rosebud but never
actually touching it, the muscle involuntarily flexing in invitation each
time.

   Margaret's fingers came just as close to the lips of Gwen's sex after
she had allowed her legs to be parted more to allow access to her inner
thighs.  The hands lingered there for some time before moving down again,
working calves and delivering an incredible foot rub.

   Gwen stifled a groan at the removal of the hands as Margaret bent by her
ear.  "Mrs.  Nelson, would you like to turn over now?" The return of the
drape was not offered, and she did not ask for it, rolling over to look up
at the large breasts covered in green polo shirt partially blocking the
face beyond before closing her eyes again.  Her face was massaged, another
delightful first, and she again looked up to find Margaret's chest hanging
inches above her while the therapist bent to work her upper body.  She
began to straighten and Gwen closed her eyes again, unwilling to be caught
looking.  "Mrs.  Nelson, I know many of the female riders get sore breasts
after riding, even some of the men.  I can take care of that if you like,
but if you find my touch there uncomfortable..."

   "Ohh -"uhh, they are a little sore, yes...I don't mind if it's not too
much trouble," Gwen stammered over the Lady's protests.  The woman's mostly
innocent touch so far had fanned her arousal into full flame; it would only
take Tim -"or herself -"a couple of minutes to finish the job once they
were in private.  This was not going to make delaying that any easier, she
knew, but Gwen wanted them touched regardless of whether it was proper or
not.

   "Not at all.  It's something I do for many of Mrs.  Danning's guests."
She closed her eyes as Margaret retrieved more oil and could sense the
woman's body bent over her head as a dollop of warm liquid was placed above
each mound.  Fingers circled slowly, the pressure they had been applying
gradually easing as they moved on to the slopes of Gwen's pert breasts but
still pushing into the soft flesh enough to find spots of soreness.  The
therapist worked deliberately, hands circling and scooping the orbs,
alternately squeezing and smoothing, finally making their way to erect
nipples to lightly rub and twiddle them between two fingers.  And then the
hands were moving further down her body, probing her ribcage and stomach
while the Slut listed all the ways she might ask Tim to satisfy her back in
the privacy of their room.

   Gwen guessed Margaret felt she had pushed the line of decency far enough
after the woman spent little time at her midsection, thankfully staying
away from the points where her legs met her hips and any lingering touch
might cause an embarrassing reaction.  Firm hands continued down to the
tops of her thighs and beyond, and Gwen was surprised to feel firm palms
reverse their course down by her ankles, working their back up to the
as-yet untouched sides of her hips.  They were gently rocked and pushed to
loosen them, making Gwen's breasts wobble from the effort before the
fingers went back to work, casually sliding through the neatly trimmed
thatch as if oblivious to its presence.  You were wrong about the line, the
Lady said grimly, but Gwen had no desire to draw one now.  The fingers
began to glide lower, working towards the inside of legs that had opened on
their own to allow better access without seeming too obvious.  Just as when
she had been on her stomach they teased under the guise of soothing sore
muscles, coming tantalizingly close to her labial lips as Gwen fought the
urge to rotate her hips to encourage the contact.  The fingers retreated to
again gently swirl on the skin between Gwen's hipbones, and the heel of a
palm that rested just above her mons was a teasing annoyance -"a couple of
inches lower would be nicer and embarrassingly effective...the urge to
surrender and give her body what is so sorely wanted was becoming
impossible to ignore.  Fingers attached to the palm landed lightly on the
top of her mons, and her hips involuntarily twitched in response.

   "Everything alright so far?" Margaret murmured.

   "Oh -"yes, wonderful..."

   "If you like, I can take care of that last little bit of stress you
appear to be carrying..." Her fingers gently pressed down on the puffy
swell beneath them, stroking.

   Gwen's eyes again flew open, this time to see the masseuse standing
beside her, smiling back, waiting for a response.  She had no doubt what
was being suggested; the story of Yvette McCallum's first job had been in
the back of her mind since she had laid down.  If it truly was as
acceptable to both parties as she had made it sound, would it be so wrong
to accept Margaret's implied offer now?  The slut was emphatic in her
belief it was.  "Is that, uhh allowed?"

   "In addition to being licensed therapists, all of Mrs.  Danning's
massage staff are trained in sensual massage.  She believes sexual release
is vital to overall physical and mental well-being.  While it might be
frowned upon in a more public venue, it is encouraged here if her guest
desires it.  Provided both you and Mr.  Nelson are comfortable with that
type of massage, of course."

   Gwen's arousal made that all sound completely sensible and she turned
her head to look at Tim, silently asking for permission.  He shrugged and
spoke for the first time in nearly half an hour.  "If you want," he said,
his legs crossed to hide the erection his wife's massage had inspired.

   She turned back and closed her eyes, decision made, thinking quickly,
not wanting to make eye contact with the woman whose hand was even now
turning gentle circles in her thatch.  To accept that kind of offer from a
complete stranger seemed so wrong, a new low...but the Slut was in charge
now, arguing that Margaret had offered it and Tim had said alright and what
would it hurt, really?  "Al-alright," she said after a deep breath.  "What
do I do?"

   "Just lie there and let me take care of you..."

   The heel of Margaret's palm was now firmly planted just above her
clitoris while her fingers began a light stroking on either side of Gwen's
lips.  Another digit pushed its way into her wetness, mixing it with the
remains of the massage oil to make the sensitive skin tingle.  Her clit
tingled too as the finger began to expertly stroke it and Gwen's hips
bucked in response, twitching uncontrollably at the overloading of her
senses.  Another hand soon joined the assault, a finger pushing deep inside
her and curling up in search of her g-spot.  She quickly found it, the
touch pushing Gwen over the edge.  She shuddered and let out a gasp to
announce the arrival of her climax.  Margaret seemed to know exactly what
the woman on the table needed and desired, her touch perfectly applied as
the orgasming woman twitched and convulsed, feeling the rhythmic
contractions about her finger.

   Gwen felt the hands leave after the last waves of her climax and was
aware of a warm towel being gently draped across her.  "Relax, rest, take a
nap if you want," Margaret whispered in her ear.  "Stay like you are as
long as you like."

   The woman straightened and looked at Tim.  "I'm ready for you now, Mr.
Nelson," she said softly, patting the empty table next to Gwen.  "If you'd
like to lie down on your stomach, I can begin."

   "Oh -"uhh, well, I...I was just here to keep her company," he stammered,
very aware of the almost painful erection he was sporting.  It seemed
dangerous to make it appear he was assuming the extra service provided to
Gwen would also be offered to him

   "Weren't you fishing today?" the redhead asked.  "My husband's a
fisherman, too.  He always enjoys a nice massage after a day on his boat."

   "You're married?"

   "Yes, I'm married, and yes he knows what I do here.  It wasn't quite
what he had in mind when I got my therapy certificate but Mrs.  Danning is
a very generous employer, I get good benefits and she pays for my
continuing education.  The hours can be a bit strange, but we don't mind.
But enough about me.  My boss likes to make sure all her guests feel
pampered, so please-lie down.  You seem to be carrying a lot of stress in
your shoulders.  Would you like me to work that out for you?"

   Gwen laughed from her own table, too relaxed to even open her eyes.  "Go
ahead, Tim.  I think you'll like it."

   He cautiously rose, doing his best to surreptitiously pin his cock
against his stomach so as not to tent the robe, or worse yet, have it poke
out between the flaps.  He waited until Margaret had her back turned to
where her oils sat before hurriedly shedding his cover and lying down while
arranging the drape across his ass, trapping the treacherous beast beneath
him.  Firm hands soon began to work tired muscles, and Tim groaned
appreciatively.

   The massage was good, good enough to make his cock temporarily forget it
had been hard, at least until she asked for permission to remove the towel
to work his butt.  The attention given the firm muscles of his asscheeks
seemed innocent enough, at least until Margaret went a bit lower, massaging
the insides of his thighs, casually brushing against the bottom of his sack
and the skin between it and his asshole.  Tim stiffened and held his
breath, unsure where the next touch might land, his length fighting to
regain its length beneath his weight.

   "Shhh," Margaret soothed gently caressing a cheek, "relax.  Breathe
normally." He did his best to do that as she worked her way down his legs,
her touch both soothing and sensuous, his cock hard and unwilling to be
lulled into a state of relaxed watchfulness again.

   His feet got the same sumptuous treatment Gwen's had -"he was thankful
they had at least been rinsed in pool water after spending the day in his
work boots -"and then came the dreaded request to "turn over."

   Tim hesitated, unsure how to gracefully explain why he couldn't, knowing
his hard on would not magically wilt away any time soon.  "I, uhh..." he
mumbled into the cushion surrounding his face.

   "Would you like your drape back?" Margaret asked softly, guessing the
reason for his reluctance.

   "Yeah, that would be great..." The transfer from stomach to back was
performed with a minimum of fuss, Margaret holding the towel between her
and his midsection while smiling over to where Gwen now sat watching. 
Still, the cover could not hide the sizable lump beneath it.

   Tim was given the same view of the therapist's breasts that Gwen had
gotten, hanging just inches from his mouth as she worked his chest, moving
as far as she could down his stomach until moving to his side to work down
past his towel-covered midsection.  Just as she had with Gwen, Margaret
eventually finished with his legs and moved back up.  "Would it be alright
if I remove the drape now, Mr.  Nelson?"

   "Well, I, uhhh..." he stammered for a second time.

   "Have an erection?" Margaret asked softly.  "Please don't be embarrassed
-"I'm flattered.  I like to think it means I've been doing my job.  Don't
worry, I'm not offended at all -"they showed us what they looked like in
massage school and I've seen plenty of them since and massaged more than a
few of them here.  So, may I remove your drape and continue?"

   Tim kept his eyes closed, unwilling to look at the woman, waiting for
Gwen to object and call a halt to this.  Being part of Cricket's education
had been one thing; this seemed like a step in another direction.  "Uhh,
sure, okay, I guess," he finally answered, and felt the weight lift from
his hips.  He had this brief absurd image of his cock springing up like a
freed Jack-in-the-Box but knew that wasn't the case, that instead it was
just lying there, laid flat by its own weight, hard and expectant.

   "It's beautiful," Margaret said, and Gwen had the feeling the compliment
had been addressed to her rather than the owner.

   "Uhh, thanks?" a blushing Tim replied with still-closed eyes, unsure
what the proper response to having your dick openly admired was.

   "Would you like me to finish my massage there?" Again, Gwen felt the
question was directed at her, and Tim was thankful she could respond before
he was forced to.

   "Please," she replied with a smile and a nod to her husband.

   The next ten minutes were an excruciating tease for Tim and not one he
ever had a thought of stopping.  Margaret worked all round the twitching
shaft but never touched it with anything other than seemingly accidental
brushes and swipes, the precum that was now leaking copiously from the tip
casually spread about once it had dripped onto his stomach to mix with the
oil already there.  He shivered when the first fingertip was slowly drawn
up the length from balls to the tip, anxious for the next stroke only to be
disappointed when the finger resumed its gentle smoothing and circling of
the skin above his hips.

   To his relief the fingers began to find their way to his cock with more
frequency, gently stroking and swirling at first but gradually becoming
more firm as the therapist's other hand joined in.  Gwen watched in
fascination, making mental notes for future practice after quickly judging
her own efforts amateurish compared to this woman's confident and practiced
touch, so professional in her manner despite the task she was performing.

   Tim groaned when the hands left him...he was close, so close to coming,
to giving his tormentor a good look at the mess she was about to make.  He
opened his eyes in time to see a folded towel being placed on his chest and
stomach from neck to just above the engorged head of his cock.  Task
completed, Margaret smiled at him reassuringly and returned her focus to
his manhood.  It did not take her long to get him to streak the dark
terrycloth with ropes of his semen, her fist expertly wrapped around just
the right spot on his shaft with just the right amount of squeeze while he
thrust lewdly against it.  She milked him with long, slow strokes to induce
the last few drops to his tip, then collected with a delicate fingertip
what she had pushed out and wipe it on the towel.  Satisfied he was indeed
finished, Margaret covered him as she had Gwen, told him to stay as long as
he liked, then quietly left the room.

   After a few moments, he turned and smiled at Gwen.  She smiled back and
held up a bottle.  "Would you like your beer now?"

   "I thought I emptied it."

   "Michelle brought a new one while Margaret was, umm, tending to you."

   "Oh." With an effort, Tim sat and swung his legs over the table, then
rose and took the offered drink.  "When?  I didn't hear her come in."

   "Just a couple of minutes ago, just before you...finished."

   "Oh."

   "And I see I got another glass of wine while I was on the table..."

   "Yeah, Michelle brought you one while you were having your chest done."

   "Oh." They looked at other and shook their heads in a "I can't believe
we just did that" kind of way.  Tim bent to kiss her.  "Was that okay?  Are
you okay?"

   Gwen smiled.  "It was definitely different but yes I'm okay.  Are you?"

   "I'm okay.  Relaxed.  Are you hungry?"

   "Famished."

   "I wonder if dinner's ready.  I really want to hear about your day."



   A New Way of Seeing Things Pt.  03 Ch.  29

   If my mother could see me now, Gwen mused as she sat poolside waiting
for the second of five courses the chef was preparing.  This was wealth and
power of the highest order, the things Irene Curran had always respected
most.  Of course, she would not be so impressed that her daughter was
sitting in the middle of it wearing nothing but a robe, or why she was even
sitting there in the first place...

   "So, how'd it go?" Tim asked once they had finished carefully reassuring
each other that their marriage was still strong after the massages they had
received.

   Gwen recounted her day, including in her details how revealing her
clothes had become during the photo sessions but leaving out how thrilling
the exposure had been.

   "So I guess it wasn't too much of a leap to take 'em off then, huh?"

   "Oh, well, I didn't have to, at least not today.  It sounds like I'll
have to tomorrow, though..."

   Gwen sensed his mild disappointment at the news, something the Lady
decided was just some sort of justification for her own perversion.  "Oh.
He give you any details about tomorrow, other than that, I mean?"

   "Not really, just that I wouldn't need to try anything on tonight..."
Gwen felt a need to change the subject and keep her imagination at bay. 
"And how did your day go?  How was the fishing?  Was your guide nice?"

   "The fishing was great!  Vince -"real good guy, by the way -"made it
sound like this little overgrown pond on the way over, but it was a small
lake, and nobody but us on it!  Caught a bunch and one of them's getting
delivered to the house after it's stuffed and mounted.  Holy shit Gwen,
this bass was huge!  I almost felt bad about keeping him but Vince said the
pond's overstocked and good to get some of the bigger guys outta there.  He
also said Mrs.  Danning will take care of the taxidermy, her treat."

   "That's very nice of her." The skirmish over what wall at home his
trophy would occupy could be fought later, Gwen decided.  "Does he, umm,
know why you're here?"

   "You mean why you're here?  I don't think so...if he does he didn't let
on.  He was really quiet until he figured out he didn't have to kiss my
ass. Once he found out I worked for a living and could bait my own hook, he
got a little more talkative.  Said it's kinda unusual for this place to
only have a couple of people in it -"it's usually full when it's being
used, and that the people that stay here don't go in for fishing." He
paused while Michelle brought the next course out, waiting until she had
stepped back into the house before continuing on in a lowered voice.  "He
also said he's heard they go in for some pretty wild parties here."

   "Wild parties?  Like how?"

   "He wouldn't say exactly, I think he was worried that if he said too
much somebody would find out and he'd get in trouble.  He just said that
they're the kind of parties you have in private."

   "Oh." Gwen had a guess as to the kind of parties they were, given what
Michelle and Margaret had already hinted at.  She felt a tingle run through
her at the thought of the house full of people running around naked,
doing...things...

   "After a couple of beers he also asked if I had seen the basement yet."

   "The basement?  I didn't know this place had one.  What's so special
about it?"

   "He wouldn't tell me that either, just that he has a buddy who does some
work down there from time to time and that's it a hell of a room."

   "Huh." The conversation lapsed while they both considered the meaning of
Vince's cryptic questions.

   ***

   The last rays of the sun had disappeared behind the grotto's walls some
time ago, Tim and Gwen basking in the guttering light of the scattered
torches and the warm glow of excellent food and drink in their stomachs. 
They both had thoughts of another swim before bed, each willing to wait
just a little longer before being the first to suggest it.

   The chirping of crickets was punctuated with the sound of Michelle's
heels clicking across the marble floor.  "Madame, I am sorry to interrupt
you and Monsieur, but your groom is here to see you.  Would you like me to
show her in?"

   Gwen rose, suddenly concerned.  "Of course -"please."

   The young woman disappeared and returned a short time later, Cricket
following close behind.  "Is everything alright?" Gwen asked while Michelle
excused herself.

   "Oh -"yes, that's what I was coming to tell you.  I just wanted to let
you know Dart looks great and should be ready for tomorrow." She held out
her hands defensively as the older woman approached for a hug.  "Sorry -"I
don't smell so good right now -"it was pretty hot today, but you knew that
already, and I went for a ride with Hannah and some of the exercise riders
after we got Dart back to his stall and settled in.  I hope that's okay..."

   "Seriously?  You're worried that I might not like the smell of horse?"
Gwen said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around her friend.  "I'm
glad you got a chance to get out and have a little fun.  Did they give you
somebody good to ride?"

   "Do you really believe there's a bad horse anywhere on this property? 
Once they started listing off his lines I was afraid I might break him or
something.  I was also afraid I might not be up to the other riders' skill
levels..."

   And were you?"

   "I held my own..."

   "You did a lot better than that, I'll bet.  Did you eat yet?"

   "Not yet.  Like I said, I wanted to make sure Dart was all set before I
went riding, and then we went out right after that.  I'm going back now to
finish up my chores, and then I guess they've got dinner waiting for me in
my room.  Just wanted to let you know he's alright."

   "Thank you for doing that, I appreciate it...if not food, maybe you want
to rinse off with a quick swim before you head back?"

   "Oh, uhh, thanks, but I didn't bring a suit..."

   Gwen smiled and pulled the top of her robe open to reveal the bare skin
beneath.  "Neither did we."

   "Really?  But what about, you know," she looked about the room, "the
others?"

   "Michelle is the only one we've seen, and from what I can tell bathing
suits are kind of an afterthought here which doesn't bother her at all."
Cricket didn't look convinced.  "I was going in," Gwen said, walking back
on to the pool deck, "come with me."

   The young woman followed and gave Tim a shy wave.  "Are you going in,
too?"

   "I will if you will," he answered with a grin as he rose from his chair.
"But let me hit the bathroom first."

   Cricket stood and watched as Gwen shed her robe, laying it on a nearby
lounge chair before slicing through the pool's surface with a neat little
dive.  Gwen.  "Leave your underwear on, then," she encouraged after
breaking the surface and looking back at the young woman, "it's like a
bathing suit, right?"

   Cricket cautiously began to strip, looking back into the house after
each item of clothing had been removed and carefully laid aside for easy
retrieval later, hesitating first at her jog bra and then her panties
before removing both and hurrying into the water.  She swam towards her
friend, the cool water refreshing and her nudity thrilling as she gave
another look over her shoulder.

   "How did you get those clothes?" Gwen asked as the young woman drew
close.

   "Oh, Hannah thought it might save some time and trouble explaining why a
guest was poking around the stables...I'm guessing it's because what I was
wearing made me look like somebody who was up to no good."

   Gwen laughed.  "You don't have the look of a troublemaker!"

   "I can't blame them, I mean if I had that kind of stable I would be very
careful about who's hanging around it...on the other hand, you looked
incredible today!  I've never really gotten a chance to watch you work
without my own horse to worry about...I knew you were a good rider, but
wow!"

   "You're too kind," Gwen demurred.  "Hopefully my riding was enough to
distract from my transparent wardrobe!"

   "Your outfits were pretty daring," Cricket admitted, "but I thought they
looked good on you.  Hannah thought you looked really sexy in them and that
you would have had a very large audience if the stable hands had been
allowed to watch." Gwen's arousal flared at the reminder of her frequent
dream material.  "She also noticed how interested Marco was."

   "I have to guess it's his job to pay attention."

   Cricket gave a curious smile, one that was a mixture of mischief and
embarrassment.  "Oh, he was working, but he's still a guy...Hannah thought,
well...she kept pointing out the bulge in his jeans, said that he was
either naturally well-endowed or something was making him that way."

   "Oh -"oh.  Really?"

   Cricket nodded and smiled.  "She said if she were a guy she would have
had one, too.  I saw him, uhh, adjust himself once or twice when he thought
no one was looking.  At least, I think that's what he was doing..."

   "He's a young man," Gwen reasoned, "I think they're all like that all
the time, no matter what they're looking at."

   "Maybe most of them...all I know is that even I was getting turned on
watching you, and if I was, then he probably was, too.  Sorry, probably not
what you wanted to hear, but it's true." The young woman paddled backwards
until she could stand and began moving her neck in circles, stretching.

   "Sore?"

   "A little," Cricket replied, "Sitting behind a desk makes my muscles
forget what it's like to do real work all day."

   Gwen glided towards her.  "Here, turn around, let me help." She stood
behind her young friend and reached for her shoulders, gently massaging,
getting a satisfied sigh and groan in response.

   The fingers gently probing Cricket's muscles only paused for a moment
when Tim reappeared from around the corner, tossing his robe aside as he
moved towards the pool.  The young woman took note of his flaccid member,
never missing an opportunity to study the various states of his equipment
now that she been given permission.  His cock and balls bounced back and
forth as he approached the edge of the pool, looking so harmless in that
state, so different than when it awoke and turned into something much more
serious.

   "Cricket has a bit of a sore neck," Gwen said after he had surfaced. 
"My hands are a little tired after riding all day, want to take over and
work on her muscles a bit?"

   Tim was about to suggest that perhaps Margaret was still around but held
his tongue, unsure how much Gwen had shared of their pre-dinner activities.
"Uh, sure," he replied simply, stepping behind the naked young woman as his
wife moved away.  He began to work the way he had discovered Gwen liked to
be touched after she had started letting him, Cricket's shoulders
near-perfect copies of his wife's.  The young woman leaned back with
another contented groan, the small of her back brushing against his soft
member and giving it an excuse to rise should it be needed.  She felt it
begin to stir but did not move away, a swell of pride running through her
in having caused that.  Tim stayed where he was as well, quickly noting the
body in front of him did not recoil at his growing cock's touch and if she
was okay with it, then so was he.

   None of them heard the click of Michelle's high heels until she was on
the pool deck.  Tim froze in place, caught in the act, while Cricket turned
crimson and crossed her arms over her chest.  True to Gwen's words, the
young woman did not seem at all shocked.  "Will your groom be attending to
Madame and Monsieur this evening?"

   Gwen looked up in confusion.  "I'm sorry?"

   "Your groom, Madam.  Will she be attending to you this evening?  There
is a smaller room next to yours that I can prepare for her if you will be
requiring her services until morning."

   They all seemed to understand the implication simultaneously, Tim
backing away while Cricket hurried to climb out of the pool, suddenly
wanting her clothes and to get back to the stable.  "No, no, I have chores
to do yet tonight, and dinner, and..." she replied a bit too loudly,
grabbing a nearby towel and hurrying to dress.

   Michelle looked expectantly at the woman still in the pool, as if asking
for permission to allow the young woman to leave.  "See you in the
morning?" Gwen called out.

   "Yes, in the morning -"bright and early, right?" Cricket called back,
stumbling a bit while stuffing her feet back into her boots, trying to
regain her composure.

   "Bright and early."

   "Okay, good night then!  See you in the morning." She didn't wait to be
shown the way out.

   "It will be just Madam and Monsieur tonight, then?"

   Gwen moved to the steps.  "Yes, just us." She allowed herself to be
dried, not minding the attention paid to her breasts and sex at all.  Tim
received the same treatment, his flagging erection partially revived, and
the couple sat poolside in their robes, sharing embarrassed smiles and
enjoying one last drink before bed.  They eventually rose to make their way
to their room, Michelle magically appearing to escort them and turn down
the bed before asking if there was anything more she might do for them that
evening.

   "No, thank you Michelle, I think we'll be fine." Gwen was moving towards
her husband even before the door closed, dropping her robe and sinking to
her knees in front of him as the latch clicked shut.  His soft length was
retrieved from beneath the folds of terrycloth and pulled out, lips gently
kissing the crown and her tongue giving it a playful lick.

   Tim laughed.  "That's a hell of a goodnight kiss."

   "I got an urge to do this when I was watching you get your massage,"
Gwen murmured, kissing her way down the underside of his stiffening length
towards his balls.  "Something I can give you that you don't get with a
massage." At least, maybe not, the Slut offered.  Maybe there's a massage
style for that, too.

   "You don't need to give me anything," Tim grumbled, gently cupping the
side of her head while she worked, "but I'll sure as hell take it." He was
hard enough now for her lips to part and take him in, slowly sliding up and
down the length to encourage his last little bit of growth.

   Gwen patiently worked him, getting appreciative grunts and sharp intakes
of breath when she found a particularly sensitive spot, teasing him towards
orgasm before slowing her efforts to let him back down a bit.  "Enough," he
finally rumbled, "let me give you something you didn't get with your
massage, either." She was lifted to her feet before being pushed back on to
the bed, her ankles grabbed by callused hands and legs roughly spread wide.
His hands found their way to her breasts even as his tongue made its first
swipe from bottom to top, collecting her wetness.  Tim did not show her the
same subtlety he had received, instead bringing her to orgasm with
insistent circling of his tongue and a mauling of her tits that had a
delightfully masculine feel to it.  He was mounting her even as the last
tremors of her climax pulsed from her sex.

   Tim slid into his prize in one long stroke.  "That feels so damn good
every single time," he groaned from above her.  "Gotta tell ya, all day
long I was thinking about what you were doing and getting so horny I was
worried I was gonna get a hard on in front of Vince."

   Gwen pushed back against his thrusts, filling herself with him, and the
Slut's pride in what she had done to the poor assistant came tumbling out
before she could stop it.  "Cricket told me she and the other groom thought
Marco had an erection today," she coo'd.

   Tim's hips came to a stop, his length buried to the hilt.  "You mean
Danilo's little brother?"

   "Mmm-hmmm..."

   He chuckled and resumed his motion, a little more urgent this time. 
"You musta put on a hell of a show.  Betcha he started wearing it out as
soon as he got a little privacy."

   "What do you mean?" Gwen felt obliged to ask, although she had idea
exactly what he was talking about.

   "I'll bet he jacked off thinking about you, probably more than once,"
Tim hissed in time to a particularly forceful thrust.

   "Do you really think so?" Detailed images of the young man naked and
hard, right down to a nest of jet-black pubic hair that matched the curls
on his head, came to mind unbidden, and despite the Lady's protests Gwen
did nothing to chase them away.

   "Maybe he's one of those guys who's into tribute pictures.  He's gotta
have access to the materials, right?"

   "What do you mean, tribute picture?"

   "Well, I hear some guys like to take pictures of women and, uh, decorate
'em."

   "When you say decorate, do you mean..." she lowered her voice to a
murmur, "come on them?"

   Tim nodded and grinned, and, it was Gwen's turn to laugh.  "You men have
some really strange ways of getting your kicks.  Did you ever do that?"

   "What, on a picture?  Naw, never did.  I like doin' it on the real
thing..."

   The scene in her mind switched to one of Marco standing over one of her
photos, stroking himself getting ready to decorate her..."If you want to do
that -"to me -"tonight, I won't mind," she panted between his thrusts.

   Tim stopped again and looked down at her, a smile on his face.  "That's
a great idea..." He was quickly out of her, kneeling between her legs. 
"Any spot in particular?"

   "Oh -"wherever you want.  Is there a spot men like when they're doing
this on pictures?"

   "Depends on what the picture is of, and how good their aim is, I
guess...you know, a full body shot or a close-up of some, uhh, part..."

   "Like boobs, or...butt," Gwen continued, finishing his thought.

   "Yeah, like those.  Or their face," he added helpfully, feeling foolish
for even thinking that information was necessary.

   "Of course.  That doesn't surprise me at all." At least any more, she
thought.  "Would you like to do that?  You know, mark me?"

   "You don't mind?  You sure?"

   "I know you like to, so..."

   "Don't know why I do," he said with a chuckle, hurrying to place himself
astride her chest, "but there's just something really kinky about it...my
way of getting' my kicks, I guess."

   "Mmm, I'll bet...I like it when you're kinky." Gwen looked at the dark
red helmet just beyond her chin, Tim's fist already making it darker with
the blood he was squeezing into it.  "Just tell me when you're ready,
alright?"

   "Will do."

   Gwen looked up at her husband, his face a mixture of concentration and
intensity as he pleasured himself with one hand while gently groping her
breast with the other.  She remembered Michelle's apparent disregard for
the nicety of knocking before entering a room and wondered what her
reaction would be if she did so now.  Probably no different than when she
had walked in on Tim's massage, pausing after setting down the full wine
glass to smile at the cock Margaret was expertly handling.  No, Gwen mused,
his choice of targets would probably not shock her at all -"in fact, she
might even offer to help clean up Madame after.

   "Close your eyes," Tim commanded, and for several seconds she heard the
slickness his fist was stirring and his harsh breathing.  Both suddenly
stopped a half-second before the first hot jet struck her on the forehead.
She recoiled a bit even as the second pulse landed on her nose and in her
nostril, getting a snort and a soft yelp from her as the third pulse landed
on her lips and open mouth.  There was no Michelle to help with clean up,
but the man who made the mess was happy to get her a washcloth.

   Gwen lay awake for some time after, waiting for sleep to come, feeling
more than a little guilt over the fact that the man she was currently
thinking perverted thoughts about was not the one whose arms she was lying
naked in.

   She would have liked to have been a fly on the wall of wherever Marco
was staying tonight, just to see if Cricket, and Hannah, and Tim had been
correct in their assumptions.  Maybe he had printed out a picture, but of
what?  She had no idea what Danilo had captured, would there be anything
erotic enough to inspire a young man to masturbate to it?  Plenty, both
Lady and Slut agreed, and the possibilities were reviewed.  Something where
her breasts or thatch had been visible beneath translucent fabric?  A
close-up of her face?  She couldn't imagine one that would be sufficient to
induce the young man to come, but wanted to think there had.

   Or maybe he hadn't even needed them, that his imagination would be
enough, thoughts of him doing things with -"or to -"the nearly-naked woman
that had teased him all day.  In her mind he was naked on the bed, stroking
a penis that seemed a little too large for the body it was attached to.  He
was thinking of her...

   The Lady harrumphed at the conceit, but the Slut had firm ideas what he
would be imagining.  She was naked and spread before him, or better yet he
was in her, in the very same position Tim had been in a short time ago. 
The thought of her sleeping husband replaced by the naked young man brought
her up short, and she pushed the thoughts away.  Gwen let the arousal that
had again been awakened simmer, reminding herself tomorrow started early.

   ***

   They were under the covers when Michelle brought their coffee in the
next morning.  Not that it matters, Gwen thought with a smile, she's pretty
much seen it all anyways.  Breakfast was a more hurried affair than the
previous day's, both Vince and Rose waiting for their charges outside while
the morning sun was still barely peeking above the eastern tree line.  The
stylist tried to make conversation during the drive to the field a couple
of miles over, but Gwen was lost in her thoughts, concentrating on the task
ahead.  If the previous day's exercises had been any indication, the
equestrian skills needed would not be at all demanding.  It was the other
part, though...the nerves she had expected, the excited anticipation she
had not.

   The ATV exited the pine forest into an open field covered with
waist-high grass, the RV from yesterday sitting a short distance from a
crude log lean-to, a horse trailer with Dart tethered to it not far off. 
She quickly counted four people standing nearby, the same group from the
day before.  Danilo strolled towards where Rose was parking near the RV. 
"Good morning!" he called out brightly.

   "Good morning..."

   "Sleep well?"

   "Alright." It would have been better if I hadn't been imagining what
your brother was doing, she added silently while glancing over his shoulder
at the young man.

   "Good!  Well, not to rush you, but I want to make sure we get the right
light this morning, so if you want to take a look at the tack that's been
picked out for your horse, we can uhh, get you ready..."

   She gave Dart a quick greeting and look-over before following Danilo to
the lean-to, the others trailing behind.  The interior was every bit as
rough as the exterior, and Dart's tack for the day matched the building. 
The bit was well-made unpolished iron, the traces thick black strips of
leather.  It was the saddle that interested her the most, something unlike
anything she had seen before, a black leather frame supporting a mesh-like
material.  "This is different," she murmured to no one in particular.

   "Mrs.  Danning's design, ma'am," Hannah offered helpfully.  "The fabric
is meant to wick away sweat from the rider and keep bare skin against
leather to a minimum." The young woman hesitated and blushed." She, uhh,
has guests who like to ride au naturel from time to time...they find it
quite comfortable and she thought you might, too."

   "Oh -"Uh, I -"thank her for me." Hannah smiled and nodded as Gwen turned
to the young photographer.  "Everything seems alright?"

   "Good, good -"why don't we head back to the RV so you can get ready,
then." He accompanied her to the open door where Rose stood waiting,
turning to attend to his own list of tasks as she entered.

   "Wash and dry your hair, just a little makeup," Rose explained as she
handed Gwen a robe.  There was no offer of privacy while she got out of her
clothes, and after a moment's hesitation decided it would have been a silly
gesture, anyways.  She was in the robe and the styling chair just a moment
later.

   Her hair was just dried and combed after it had been washed, left to
hang loosely while makeup was again sparingly applied.  "Okay, wardrobe,"
Rose announced after the last swipe of black eyeliner.

   "Oh, I didn't know..."

   "There's not much," the stylist replied with a smile, "but what there
is...why don't you take off the robe and we can take care of it." Gwen
stood nude as the woman produced a pair of black sandals, two rough leather
cords hanging from each, and knelt before her.  Her foot was gently lifted
into each, the cords wound about her calves to secure them.  "Oh," Rose
said casually as she raised herself enough to reach a nearby pair of
scissors before settling again, "as long as I'm down here," her fingers
plucked at a tuft of Gwen's thatch as she looked up, "do you mind?" Her leg
was gently prodded up onto a nearby chair, and her sex was open to the
woman's face just inches from it.  "That's better," the stylist pronounced
after a few cuts and stood.  A collar was next, this time a wide black
piece, roughly cut like all of the other leather.  "Not much else, I'm
afraid," Rose said apologetically, handing her a pair of black kidskin
gloves.  "How's it feel?"

   Gwen managed a smile of her own.  "Like I'm not wearing clothes."

   "If you don't mind me saying so, it suits you...you have a beautiful
body.  Danilo wanted to make sure this is the look he had in mind before we
get started." The woman leaned out the RV door.  "I think she's ready."

   Gwen heard the sound of his tramping on the steps a moment later.  The
young man entered and critically evaluated his model before averting his
eyes out of instinct, bringing them back just a second later.  "Yup."

   She felt a strange thrill at being the object of this man's attention
and smiled.  "Yup?"

   "Yup, this -"you-are exactly what I had in mind.  I'm, uhh, kind of a
geek, big into comic books, superheroes when I was growing up, you know,
that kind of thing.  The first time I saw you ride you reminded me of some
sort of warrior princess -"" the Lady rolled her eyes, oh please -""how
serious and focused you were, how well your horse responded to your
authority, how you, uhh, acted and looked.  So I kinda got this idea in my
head..." he smiled sheepishly.  "You look incredible."

   She blushed.  "Thank you."

   "You okay to ride this way?"

   "Too late to back out now."

   He smiled reassuringly and handed her the nearby robe.  "Put this on for
now and come on out -"it's kind of chilly out there." Cricket and Hannah
were nowhere to be seen, but Marco was standing there by the door, the
young man making an obvious effort to avoid looking at the woman exiting
the RV as he handed his brother a camera.  He's going to have to look
sometime, the Slut taunted, and Gwen risked a glance down at the man's
midsection while he was occupied.  He looks 'normal' down there, she
thought, at least as far as her limited experience with the male anatomy
went.  The brothers talked quietly for a moment, Danilo reviewing one last
time what he wanted from his assistant, then turned back to Gwen.  "So,
umm, this'll pretty much be like yesterday..." Hardly, the Lady opined. 
"You walk to the barn, saddle up, go for a ride, I'll let you know what I'd
like you to do when I want it.  Sound okay?"

   "Sounds okay."

   Danilo squinted up at the brightening sky, studying it.  "Light looks
good, so, uhh...Rose'll be nearby with your robe for when we reset or take
a break..." he motioned to a spot a few feet from where they stood, "so
maybe you could give it to her now and you can start over there?"

   Gwen took a breath to steady herself, knowing the moment was at hand, a
strange mix of fear and excitement rolling over her.  Despite the Lady's
plea to at least leave the robe on until she was in her assigned spot, Gwen
untied the sash and slipped it off, handing it to the stylist and getting
her gloves in return.  The Slut wanted very badly to see Marco's reaction,
but Gwen pushed the distraction away and focused on her task, stopping
where the photographer had pointed and turning back.  "Here?"

   His camera was already up and working.  "Perfect.  So, just start
walking towards the barn, okay?"

   The wide swatch of grass before her was emerald-green, shorter than the
golden-yellow field beyond the lean-to that was her target.  Gwen collected
herself and strode forward with purpose, eyes up and forward, shoulders
back, acutely aware of the situation she had put herself in.  Before this
craziness all began, Miss Ritter's demands that her student carry the same
poise and confidence in the ring no matter how trying the circumstances,
even naked, had been nothing more than a metaphor, an impossible scenario;
now, it was a nerve wracking, thrilling reality.  She had prepared for it
yesterday of course, and her outfits had been certainly revealing enough to
test her nerve and focus.  But today was a whole new level, the ultimate
test of what Miss Ritter had prepared her for all those years ago.

   Gwen felt the lift and fall of her buttocks with each step, the slight
bounce of her pert breasts with each footfall.  The chill of the humid
morning air against her bare skin raised goosebumps, but it was excitement
that gave her nipples their straining erectness.  This was so wrong, so
nasty, so perverted, and she exulted in the moment.  She knew Marco was
trailing behind with a perfect view of her bare ass...what would he find
most arousing when he was in his bed?  Concentrate, she reminded herself,
there's a job to do, and willed herself to not look at the photographer
orbiting her, snapping away.

   Gwen continued into the gloom of the rough lean-to, the air a bit warmer
and fragrant with hay, ignoring Danilo just a couple of feet away as she
put her head to Dart's.  "Think you can make me look good one more time?"
she murmured, and the horse lifted his nose in response.  Gwen groomed and
saddled at her normal measured pace, very aware of just how close the
camera was every time she bent to pick up a brush or some tack, knowing the
camera could not miss her upturned ass and the treasure below it.

   Sandals, gloves and collar were all she wore as she led Dart from the
barn, Gwen musing her horse was more dressed than she was.  Danilo called a
temporary halt while he adjusted some settings and reviewed what he had
taken so far, Cricket and Hannah appearing from nowhere to tend to both
horse and rider should anything be needed.  Rose was there as well, but the
robe she offered was rejected.  They've all seen me naked, Gwen reasoned,
her expression calm and impassive, almost daring the others to look.  No
one was able to resist the dare, sneaking furtive glances before pretending
their interest was elsewhere.

   "Everything going alright?" Cricket asked in a murmur as she checked a
cinch that she knew didn't need checking -"Gwen had done it, after all.

   "I'm fine, you?"

   The young woman laughed.  "You look calmer than I do!  God I hope I have
half of your confidence some day!"

   "I might look confident, but inside..." Gwen was surprised to hear
herself admit that, a direct disobeying of Miss Ritter's instructions to
never show anyone weakness.

   "Then you make it look good, and I still want to learn how you do it."
Cricket and the others moved away as Danilo announced he was ready to
resume.

   Just like the previous day, Gwen was asked to mount and dismount several
times, this time her breasts openly swaying and bobbing with the movement,
her sex no longer covered by even transparent fabric and lewdly opening
wide to the camera and anyone standing behind her.  She did notice that was
the spot Marco had chosen to stay in even as his brother continued to
circle and shoot.

   Satisfied, Danilo sent her off into the tall grass beyond, calling for
simple lines and moves as he had done the previous afternoon, horse and
rider performing them flawlessly, the distraction of performing them naked
held at bay by Gwen's training.

   There was another distraction to cope with as well...it was while
sitting erect in the saddle as Danilo snapped away at a standing pose that
Gwen discovered Mrs.  Danning's saddle included a firm ridge of leather
underneath the yielding fabric that lined up nicely with the clitoris above
it.  The design was diabolically clever, keeping the hard strip out of the
way of a rider in motion to avoid any painful smashing against it, but at
rest, it presented something more tempting.  Even the fabric covering it
seemed different, softer and smoother as if to make sliding against it even
easier.  She fought to avoid the call of the leather ridge but found
herself losing the battle as time went on, surreptitiously allowing her
weight to briefly press against it during halts and breaks, eventually
allowing for a quick flex of her hips to grind against the hardness as the
morning wore on.  She was thankful for the rising temperatures as the heat
and the sweat it was causing could be blamed for the wetness she was
certain was staining the saddle's fabric.  She had no such excuses for her
still-erect nipples.

   The spot was large and very evident when she removed the saddle once she
was directed back to the lean-to, the splotch darker against the dark
fabric.  Gwen keenly felt the arousal her bold performance had caused as
Dart was tended to and wondered if her excitement was obvious enough to be
apparent to the camera just a few feet away.  Towards the end of her ride
she had begun to idly debate just how an orgasm might be concealed or
explained away if she were to give in to the saddle's call, the thoughts
finally dismissed as foolish.  Long-practiced training prevented any loss
of control, although Gwen knew her desire would eventually have to be
satisfied.

   And then it was over.  Danilo announced he had what he needed and how
pleased he was with it, Cricket and Hannah were hurrying to get Dart back
to the stable and into the trailer for his ride home, and Rose was handing
back the robe.  Much to the Slut's joy, a quick glance at the young
assistant's midsection did seem to indicate he seemed more filled out there
than she remembered.  Moments later Gwen was fully dressed and saying her
goodbyes, outwardly calm but almost giddy inside over what she had just
done, trying to comprehend the whirlwind that had been the weekend and the
suddenness with which it seemed to be ending.

   Rose chattered happily on the way back to the bungalow, telling her
passenger how beautiful it had been to watch and how happy the photographer
had seemed.  Hugs and sincere thank yous were exchanged when she was
dropped off at the front door where Michelle was waiting with a glass of
wine for her, escorting her up to where Tim was again sitting by the pool,
this time in jeans, t-shirt and apparently ready to go.

   Michelle turned to Gwen.  "Shall I tell your masseuse you will be along
shortly?"

   Gwen turned to the young woman, a little startled.  A massage would be
nice if it was anything like yesterday's.  It would also be short, given
her current condition-too short, the Lady suggested, and she didn't want to
give the impression that was what she had come for..." "Thank you, that's
very nice, but we'll be leaving as soon as my horse is brought back up to
the stable.  We have a long drive home..."

   Michelle seemed surprised.  "Did Margaret somehow displease you
yesterday?  If so, I can arrange for another -""

   Gwen cut her off with a smile.  "No, not at all, she was wonderful, but
as I said, we should be getting home and I'm afraid I might want to stay
and relax after she...finishes.  But I would like to take a shower, if
that's alright."

   The young woman's face brightened.  "Of course!  But you are allowed to
stay and relax as long as you wish!  Madame Danning made it clear you are
welcome here for as long as you like."

   "I would love to do that," Gwen replied, "but we have a home and
business to get back to."

   "I see.  I will start your shower for you then."

   High heels clicked rapidly across the floor, and Gwen turned to her
husband.  "Want to come wash my back?"

   Tim gave her a look of mock disinterest.  "I might get wet.  I already
took a shower..."

   "Then I guess I'll have to do it myself." She hesitated and smiled
mischievously.  "Or ask somebody else to do it."

   Tim laughed and rose.  "I wouldn't mind watching that."

   "If you can watch you can do.  Come on." They left a line of clothes
across the bedroom to the shower and were under the already-warm spray a
few moments later.  Her back was washed as she had requested, but Gwen had
another task in mind for the naked man behind her.  She grabbed his hand,
bringing a finger to her mouth and sucking for a moment before guiding it
down to her cleft.  Tim got the hint, circling the hard nub while he kissed
her neck and his other hand palmed her tit.  She moaned, pushing back into
the freshening hardness wedged between her cheeks and came before it had a
chance to be put to use, trusting Tim to hold her up as her knees grew weak
and she put her own hands on the tile wall for support.

   Spent but with strength returning, Gwen bent forward, pushing the man
behind her back, offering herself to him with a suggestive wiggle of her
hips.  He gladly accepted.  With a push and a groan Tim sank deep, her
hands still on the wall before her to brace for his pounding.

   The warm spray rained down on the joined bodies as he roughly grabbed
her hips and thrust, taking his time, enjoying the view of his wife before
him and the sensation of his cock gripped by her tight cunt.  "Fuck me as
hard as you want," Gwen panted over the sound of water falling on tile and
the wet slap of his hips against her ass.  Her encouragement spurred him
on, grunting with each thrust.  She wanted more, wanted to be well and
truly used by this man, and turned her head to tell him so.  "Fuck me
until-" Her words suddenly stopped at the sight of the bathroom door
opening, Michelle stepping in to put down the drinks they had left by the
pool.

   Tim looked to where his wife's attention had been drawn to.  Michelle
smiled at the couple in the shower as the couple looked back, both finding
the presence of an audience incredibly erotic.  With a final savage thrust
and grunt he came, lewdly trying to push his seed deeper with each pulse,
looking back at the woman in the doorway the entire time, making a show of
this display of male sexuality at it rawest.

   Gwen felt him give a last weak push along with a short exhale, and
Michelle gracefully retreated.  Tim chuckled, withdrew, and gave Gwen a
playful pat on each cheek.  "Sorry.  I couldn't have stopped -""he nodded
to the door -""if I wanted to."

   "I didn't want you to stop," she giggled, turning to kiss him.  "I'm
sure she's seen a lot more than that.  But to be honest, I don't know why
they bothered with doors in this place, though.  We should go."

   It was still another hour before they left the bedroom, the bed offering
a temptation neither could resist, both disappointed Michelle had not come
to look in and see what the delay was.