tagExhibitionist & VoyeurA New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 13

A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 13

byBusyBadger©

This is a story about sexual exploration and, open relationships. Open relationships can and do happily exist; but they are not for everyone. If you do not believe it is at all possible for open relationships to exist without damage to any and all involved parties, please do yourself a favor and don't waste your time reading this.

Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.


*****

"Do you think Walt will miss working?"

Gwen had redressed soon after the last tremors of her orgasm had passed, crouching in the cockpit to put her bikini back on before adding a layer of t-shirt and shorts. The urge to openly flaunt her sexuality had quieted after her climax; modesty and common sense returned.

Tim scanned the open expanse of water in front of him. "I doubt it. He's been ready to hang it up for a while—we both know that. No, I think there's only one thing he's gonna miss about showing up to work now."

What's that?"

Tim didn't respond, debating the wisdom of his answer.

Gwen sensed his hesitation. "Tell me."

"Don't get mad, but you know he's an old horndawg—always has been, right?" Gwen nodded. "Never passes up a chance to look down a woman's shirt or up her skirt. I was always worried one of our customers was going to catch him doing that. That's one of the reasons I had you send him out to the industrial jobs as much as possible. That and because there was usually more space for him to move his fat ass around in a warehouse than some poor lady's bathroom."

"I always suspected that about him. To tell you the truth, I think he tried to do it do me more than once. I just thought I was being paranoid."

"You weren't paranoid. I caught him checking you out a few times. Checking to see if you mighta missed a button or something, I guess. He's harmless," Tim quickly added. "He never tried to do anything more than look—he knew that me and Cliff would kick his ass if he stepped out of line with a customer, and Norma would finish the job when he got home—but he does like to look. He'd get some quick peek at some poor woman's bra strap and tell the apprentices how she was practically naked. 'Course, ninety-nine percent of Walt's stories are bullshit, and we all know that, but he liked to think that the apprentices were more gullible than Cliff or me."

"Did he ever make up things about me? And weren't you upset that he was looking at me like that?"

Tim shrugged and smiled apologetically. "No, he never said anything about you when I was around. Besides, I think everyone knew you were really good at not showing anything, even on the hottest days, so he didn't have much of anything to make shit up about...at least until a few weeks ago."

"What happened a few weeks ago?"

"He spent all those years working around you every day and never got even a little peek of something he shouldn't have. And then you came up to the pool in your bathing suit...

Gwen was shocked. "How do you know all this? And you said that bathing suit wasn't too revealing! I told you I should have stayed in the house!"

"Your suit's not revealing at all," Tim said with a laugh. "But it still showed more of you than he's ever seen. And I only know because I heard him talking to Andrew a few days after. They didn't see me in the parts room. He seemed real happy about hauling his ass up to the pool and how what he had seen gave him some pretty detailed guesses at what he hadn't." Tim thought back to how Andrew's guess as to the style and volume of Gwen's pussy hair had been much more accurate than Walt's. "By the way, Andrew thinks you're hot, too."

The Lady was both horrified and insulted at thought of Walt and Andrew discussing her in a less than professional manner, but the Slut awakened from her orgasm-induced stupor to purr seductively. The idea that the young apprentice in particular found her pleasant to look at was exciting news. I'll show you mine if you show me yours...the Lady hushed her. "Well, thank you very much for that information," Gwen huffed. "I'll be sure to wear my winter jacket tomorrow when Walt comes by to finish his retirement paperwork!"

Tim was silent for a moment. "Or," he began slowly, "you could go the other way. Maybe show him a little bit more as a going away present."

"Timothy Allen Nelson! Are you suggesting I expose myself to one of our employees?"

"Our retired employee," he corrected. "He's leaving town on Wednesday. Might be fun to give him a little something less than your bathing suit to remember you by."

"What do you expect me to do? Meet him at the door naked?"

"I think showing him that much might give him a heart attack, but I'll let you decide just how much you want to let him see. Maybe leave some parts for his overactive imagination to fill in?"

"He'll tell everyone!"

"And everyone will think it's one of his bullshit fish stories. Nobody's gonna believe it for a second."

"I'm going to be there alone with him! He might attack me!"

"I doubt it. He's all look and talk, no action. Always has been. He's afraid Norma would turn him into a gelding if she ever found out."

"I can't believe you're suggesting your own wife expose herself to another man!"

"What can I say? Andrew's right. You're hot. It's kind of a turn on knowing other guys can only look at what I get to touch. Sorry, I know I'm sounding like a pig, but I guess it's a quirk of mine. I've always wished I could show you off a little. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time you've given a guy a peek, right?" Gwen wanted to reply that the dressing room had been an accident, but she knew that would not ring true and fell silent at this reminder of her recent history.

The ride home was quiet. The illicit thrill of being naked in front of others as well as the display that other couple had put on had culminated with her shamelessly rutting with Tim out in public (not quite in public, the Slut grumbled), and then her own thunderous orgasm in the cockpit of their boat. Her arousal had subsided with her release, but Tim's suggestion had given it an excuse to flare to life again. And now her lust was mixed with doubt, worry and guilt. She had displayed herself to others, had watched a complete stranger being pleasured, and had made no effort to hide the fact that she had serviced her husband. And now the dilemma of perhaps a more personal retirement gift for Walt...this couldn't be normal! Even Natalie would have to agree!

It worried her more that as far as she had gone with this, she wanted to go further. She would have liked to let Bob look all he wanted, maybe even open her legs to him; but the idea of being "proper" was a tough one to shake, even when there was no clothing to hide behind. She would have loved to watch how the pregnant woman safely 'did it' while satisfying her partner, or to see if the woman's husband took her desires and the baby's well-being into account, and it would have been so scandalous to have returned the favor and let the couple watch Tim make love to her! Of course, they would likely not have had any interest in two old people rolling around in the sand. But all that was way, way outside the limits of decency, and if any of her perverted behavior was ever revealed to her family and associates...

She and Tim made love that night. The Lady had managed to quell the fires of arousal and her heart was not in the act, but her husband's erection had led the way as he came out of the bathroom at bed time despite their activities that afternoon (or perhaps because, the Slut suggested), and she took care to make sure he was satisfied before they slept. There would certainly be no orgasm for her; that was the Lady's punishment for her inexcusable behavior on the beach and lewd thoughts beyond, and she enforced it with a mix of guilt and remorse that Gwen had not felt in a while. Still, the dreams returned that night. They were a curious mix of snippets from old dreams mixed with utterly fantastic and impossible situations stemming from her adventures; jumbled fragments of remembered people, places, and what-if situations.

Gwen awoke early, vaguely aware that her dream-fueled lust had regained the upper hand during the night. She knew she was ready for some more of...that, whatever that might be. Maybe she could take the edge off with Tim when he awoke. Maybe a tongue in the right spot might help him get up...The Lady vetoed that plan. Let him sleep. He has a long day of work ahead of him.

He awoke at the normal hour, enough time to get ready, not enough to make love, Gwen thought sourly. Maybe I can sneak back here after the trucks are gone and get out my toys, to remove the edge before Walt is due to arrive so I'm not tempted to act improperly.

No, I can't do that either. It's Eric's first day. We need to do his new hire paperwork, and Tim's going out with him on appointments today, so they can't leave until everything's finished. The Slut suggested asking Eric to wait in the shop while Gwen dragged her husband to the office couch upstairs for some satisfaction. Gwen dismissed the notion with a nervous laugh, but not before imagining herself with her husband between her legs while the new hire waited patiently downstairs.

Tim barely beat his new employee to the shop that morning. The first hour or so was spent introducing him to the others as they straggled in, then familiarizing him with the routine before he sent the young plumber up the stairs to begin filling out all the necessary forms. Gwen's sexual fervor was temporarily quieted as she concentrated on the tasks before her, although the Slut insisted the young man should strip down for an exam before he was allowed to leave. It was nearly ten o'clock before Tim and Eric finally pulled out of the yard on the way to their first job. Gwen glanced at the clock and knew that her plan for self-satisfaction would have to wait. Work before pleasure, and there was still plenty to do before Walt was due to arrive around noon. Behave yourself while he's here and I might allow a little self-abuse and degradation after he leaves, the Lady bargained.

Walt kept popping into her mind as she worked. He had been here a long time and she had grown fond of him despite his crude nature and gruff ways. His feelings on the female form and the pleasures he expected women to provide came as no shock, although it would surprise her greatly if his own wife saw things the same way. She also knew that while Walt called her 'boss', albeit in a barely-concealed patronizing tone, to him she was first and foremost a member of the weaker sex. Her husband's revelation of Walt's interest in what she had hidden beneath her conservative dress all those years had not been a shock either. In many ways, Walt exemplified the traits Gwen's mother had told her to expect from men, especially working class men.

Walt probably would have had a stroke if he had seen me on that beach yesterday, she mused. Would have served him right. Her musing began to coalesce into something more serious, something more thought out. The plan that was forming was no doubt a product of her current sexual frustration, and was risky, stupid, and downright dangerous. On the other hand, Tim was most likely right-it could be fun to see if she could fluster him, and Walt probably wouldn't object to being flustered under those conditions. It might even be a nice going-away present. Not to mention great payback for all those years of being ogled.

Gwen turned off the air conditioning and hurried back to the house and her bedroom closet. Their uniform company had given her a woman's blouse with the Nelson Plumbing logo on it as a sample some time back—she had considered it too risqué back then, with its wide open short sleeves and fabric more sheer than the customary denim. It might be just the thing today. Ali's closet was next and the golf skirt she had worn on that trip to the supermarket a few towns over was removed. Her sole concession to the Lady's plaintive moaning was a sweater she might throw on if she chickened out, or worse yet, Norma came along for the ride.

She carried the outfit back to the office, debating for the next half hour whether or not to actually go through with this insane plan. He'll tell everybody what he saw, the Lady screamed. The slut was quick to repeat Tim's counterpoints. He's leaving town in two days, and even if he tells people, no one's going to believe him. Everyone knows he's quick with the tall tales, and this would be so unbelievable. What if he tries something? The Lady argued. You'd be helpless. He's all talk, the Slut countered. He knows if Norma found out, it would be bad news for him. Mind made up, Gwen stripped. Slacks, long sleeve shirt, and sensible shoes were replaced with the golf skirt, blouse, and sandals, only the now-customary high-cut underwear she had put on that morning left in place. A peek or two, not a full show, she reminded herself.

Gwen fiddled with the buttons on her blouse, playing with various combinations until she settled on an open collar down to the button holding the shirt together across the top of her breasts. She wondered whether she was being too obvious.

The sound of crunching gravel outside ended the debate. Gwen hurried to the window. Walt, and only Walt, was slowly easing his bulk out of the parked truck. With a deep breath and trembling knees, she made her way downstairs to meet him.

She was waiting for him as he entered through the side door. "Walt, congratulations on your first day of retirement!"

The big man stopped short. The slacks and long sleeve shirt he had known for so many years, rain or shine, hot or cold, had been replaced with bare arms and legs. "Uh, hi Gwen, thanks. It seems pretty strange." Not retirement, he thought. This seems like just another day off. But seeing you dressed like that is definitely not what I expected when I woke up today.

"I'm sure it does! You and Norma are heading out Wednesday, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe even tomorrow, if we can get a couple of things done." He tried to not be too obvious about checking out the strange woman with the plunging neck line in front of him. Fucking great, Gwen, he grumbled to himself. I'm done and you start dressing like this?

"Well, let's get your paperwork done and get you on your way as quickly as possible. Come on up to the office." Gwen hurried up the stairs, stopping about halfway up before Walt had even reached the first tread. He looked up at the waiting woman and nearly stopped breathing. He could see up underneath the hem of her skirt, nearly to where the backs of her thighs flowed into that cute little ass he had always imagined to be under her shop foreman's pants. "Sorry, but the air conditioner finally died," she said looking down at him. It's a little stuffy up here, so I've been dressing down to stay cool."

"Uh, that's okay, I don't mind. And your outfit looks nice," he hurriedly added.

"Why, thank you sir."

C'mon, go up another stair or two, Walt begged. Lemme get a better look at what's under that skirt. Gwen held her ground, looking down at him expectantly, and finally the big man gave in, trudging upwards. She hurried the rest of the way up as he tried to catch a glimpse underneath the swirling fabric, imagining he saw asscheeks and the darkened space between them before she reached the landing and disappeared off to the left.

He finally reached the top of the stairs and Gwen offered him the chair across from her desk. Yer right, kinda warm up here," he volunteered, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat his brow was accumulating from the still air, his climb, and Gwen's attire.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Gwen offered, a sly grin on her face. "You're retired now. Would you like a beer?"

"I guess I can do that now, huh? That'd be nice."

"Be right back." Gwen hurried back down the stairs, Walt noting his boss's chest seemed to have more of a bounce than he had ever remembered seeing before. Must be the shirt. Doesn't strap her down as much as that armor plate she always wears. I dunno what the fuck is goin' on here, but if I didn't think it was impossible, I'd swear ole' Gwen Nelson done took that stick outta her ass! Maybe Tim got tired of her stuck-up shit and fucked some sense into her after his party Saturday. Or maybe before—she did seem pretty happy all night.

He was focused on the stairs at the sound of her return, noting just how much the sheer fabric jumped and shifted as Gwen bounced up the steps.

"A beer for you, sir," she said setting down the can before him. "Water for me, I'm afraid. I'm still on the clock for a few more years. I'm really sorry about the heat," she apologized, delicately grasping the shirt between her breasts and pulling it away from her body a few times in an attempt to fan herself. Walt did his best not to stare at the bare flesh that was being flashed like a deer's tail. "Alright, let's see what we have left and get you out of here as quickly as possible." Gwen stood behind her side of the desk and selected a paper from the top of a nearby pile. "Alright, this—" she bent over and placed the paper before him, gently putting a finger on the first spot to sign "—is for Social Security."

Walt looked down to where her finger lay, then up for confirmation. His gaze stopped for a fraction of a second at the gap that had opened between her shirt and chest—he could swear he saw the side of her breast dangling in there, unencumbered by a bra— Holy fuck-tit flesh!-before long years of practice forced his eyes up to avoid being caught peeking. Gwen smiled at him expectantly and gave no indication he had been caught.

Walt peered intently back down at the paper, willing himself not to try for another look at the tits practically hanging free just inches from his face. Gwen held her pose as he initialed and signed all of the necessary blanks on the paper. Satisfied, she straightened and took the document back.

"One down!" The next piece of paper from the stack slipped through Gwen's grasp and fell to the floor behind the desk. She quickly turned and bent at the waist to retrieve it, the hem of her dress tantalizing the man on the other side as it rose high up her legs, enough to reveal all of her toned thigh. Could probably suffocate somebody with those legs if she ever wrapped 'em around their head, Walt thought with amusement, reaching for his beer and feigning disinterest as she straightened with paper in hand. He was ready for her this time, his eyes already at her expected chest level as she bent to explain the document to him. He was not disappointed, most of Gwen's right breast now on display under her gaping shirt, only her nipple obscured by his viewing angle.

The image of her hanging breast was burned in his mind as he turned his attention to the paper in front of him. 32c's, he decided with the confidence of a man who had spent more than a few hours in the county's strip clubs. Small, but I'll bet they don't sag. His imagination suggested pink nipples with quarter-sized areolae capping those little beauties as his sleeping length stirred.

He managed another peek after signing in all the appropriate spots and allowing her to whisk the paper away from him. It was put back on the pile, and Gwen turned her back to the appreciative man. He didn't have to pretend to be looking somewhere else as she again bent at the waist and opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet behind her. Walt's beer stopped midway to his lips as the skirt again lifted high up her thighs, revealing the bikini panties beneath. They were doing a noble imitation of a thong, the dark-blue fabric bunching up between her cheeks, the dark line in stark contrast to the flesh of her pale buttocks. Walt's shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his cock pushed against the roll of belly fat holding it down, his little head suggesting this display was intentional and she wanted it even as his calculating, cautious side thought that too good to be true. She's been wearing the old lady clothes for so long she doesn't even know how to keep herself from showing off in this outfit. He had plenty of time to admire that beautiful ass and still be looking somewhere else when she straightened and turned.

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