tagExhibitionist & VoyeurA New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 07

A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 07

byBusyBadger©

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Love you, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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