A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 03

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

"Still, very sorry..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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