A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 08

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Used to what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gwen smiled noncommittally and rose quickly, heading for the bathroom. Tim cursed himself, damn it, pushed too far too fast. You know she thinks touching herself is wrong.

He couldn't know that his suggestion was not at all the reason for her sudden departure. Once behind the closed door of the bathroom, she took one more look at herself in the mirror, admiring the wet streak that ran from breasts to her pubic vee. Turning from the sink, she dipped her finger in the largest pool, the one on her breast, and spread the slippery substance across her nipple. The feeling was physically pleasing and mentally outrageous, and her mind reveled in both. She continued this for several moments while her husband's spend began to dry. Reluctantly, she cleaned herself and returned to the bedroom without feeling the need for a nightie, cheerfully snuggling with her surprised husband. She fell asleep with his still damp cock nestled between her cheeks.