A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 02 Ch. 22

"And what happened during the massage? Who got massaged first? Cricket or you?"

She hesitated, trying to accept that Tim really wanted that level of detail. "Well, I massaged her shoulders first, so she could see how to do it...she had never given a massage before...she said she wanted to do something nice for me, if you know what I mean."

"If you mean have sex with you, then I do, since she probably hasn't had it since her husband left, right?"

"Since even before that, I'd guess."

"Think she's really a Lesbian?"

"I—I don't think so. Her husband stopped having sex but I think she still wanted to. I think she just needed some physical contact in her life for once, and I was there, so..."

"Hmm. So, back to the massage. Was she naked? Were you?"

Gwen spent the next ten minutes describing the path to their orgasms in embarrassing detail while continuing to stroke her husband's slick length. He groaned after she described how she had climaxed on Cricket's hand, sat up and gently pushed the woman between his legs off her knees and onto her back. Gwen's legs were pried open without protest, and he slowly sank onto and into her. "Damn, that feels so good."

It was now Tim's turn to do the talking, his arousal making him bolder than he ever had been in front of Gwen before, describing in lurid detail how he would have stroked himself while the two women played with each other, watching as they came before it became the young woman's turn to watch and he reclaimed the pussy he had shared with her.

The Slut loved the mental picture he was painting, wanting Gwen to tell him how she could imagine Cricket—or even Natalie—watching while she was taken, but even in her lust the Lady managed to prevail. Easier and better to stay quiet than say something that might encourage both herself and the man busy between her legs. Only involuntary little gasps escaped after each slam of Tim's pelvis against her sex. "Coming—" he announced, giving one last thrust that made her catch her breath in surprise.

"Sorry about that, you okay?" he asked even as his spurts dwindled.

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "You certainly seemed, umm, very excited?"

"Yeah, sorry about all that. That was probably over the line, huh?"

"If what I'm doing isn't over the line, then us talking about it shouldn't be. It sounds like you've thought about it a lot."

Tim laughed nervously, his wet cock bobbing free as he withdrew from her and got to his knees. "Did you, uh, want to finish? Need me to help you?"

Gwen smiled up at him. "I can do it. But would it be alright if you watched?"

Tim grinned. "Hell, yeah. Want me to get you one of your toys?"

"No, I don't think I'll need them tonight." Gwen closed her eyes, a hand between her legs and a finger on her clitoris. She circled and teased it, knowing she was close, and she pushed one finger, then two, into the wickedly gooey mess Tim had left inside her.

Tim's fantasy became hers and it was not just him watching but Cricket as well. They both looked on in fascination as her husband's sperm soaked her fingers and bedspread beneath while she rubbed her clit ever more urgently.

"Tim," she gasped, looking up at him urgently, "please kiss me." He smiled and bent to lay by her side, their lips meeting, the fingers in her sex now Cricket's. Her orgasm followed shortly after his callused hand found her breast.

***

Gwen was right—it is getting chilly, the young woman admitted as she crossed the yard after dinner. Her sweatshirt was in the house, in the overnight bag Tim had carried in from the truck for her earlier. Cricket paused at the barn door, then did an about face and headed back to the house, calling out "be right back, Marvin, I promise," over her shoulder.

The kitchen looked just the same as when she had left just a minute ago, the remains of dinner still on the table, only the home's owners now absent. Another wave of panic swept over her—had they felt the need to take the discussion she had interrupted some place more private? She crept down the darkened hallway to retrieve her sweatshirt, afraid of what she might see or hear at the end of the corridor. Light escaped from under the doorway to the master bedroom, as well as through a crack along the side—they hadn't closed it completely—and she was mildly relieved not to hear any raised voices. There were lower voices, though, Tim's baritone grumble and Gwen's soft, feminine tone. She stopped at the door to the guest room, wondering if they were even now discussing the imposition she and Marvin were on their lifestyle, or worse, what had happened in the hotel room. While the words were indistinct, the tone did not sound angry, but rather something more pleasing to the ear, more alluring. Get your sweatshirt and get out, she told herself, but she had to know if perhaps she was already a problem. She crept towards the barely-open door, listening intently, rehearsing an excuse as to why she was here in the first place should she be caught.

"Just your hands for now and talk to me. How'd this all start?" Those words were certainly clear enough, and the young woman took a hopeful guess as to what Gwen was holding. His tone was authoritative but not angry, and she appreciated his take-charge attitude while being somewhat aroused by it for some reason. She knew she should get her sweatshirt and leave them their privacy, but her growing excitement made her want to find out just how much she might hear if she stayed. Cricket decided the man on the other side of the door was already naked, and her imagination stripped him of the jeans and t-shirt she was familiar with. He was fit, with a smooth chest and no back hair and a good-sized cock—not too big, but something that would let you know it was in you. Not like Daniel's body. Nothing like his.

Cricket listened with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal as Gwen described the previous night's events, her voice hesitant but unforced as she gradually slipped into great detail at her lover's gentle insistence. Cricket blushed at the increasingly intimate descriptions of herself, relieved and flattered that Tim sounded as though he at least did not find her body or actions repulsive.

The story end with their orgasms, and all was silent for a moment save for the sound of bodies shifting on the bed. She panicked, taking a step away from the door and towards her room, but Tim's long groan and pronouncement of his pleasure made her wonder whether their lovemaking was not finished but moving on to another phase.

Cricket's hand slipped down the front of her jeans as Tim began to describe in pornographic detail what Gwen and Cricket might do together before he took control. She idly circled her clit while listening to the sound of bodies slapping against each other, each primal male grunt getting a soft feminine gasp in response, and Cricket found herself wishing she could participate in his fantasy and watch him mount and ride her friend. He certainly didn't sound upset...he was making full use of Gwen's body in a way she imagined only a very aroused man could, but not in a way that was meant to punish his wife for her—for their- transgression.

"Coming—"he announced, and the accompanying grunt left no doubt. Cricket debated whether to stay just a bit longer, but decided it would be a good time to satisfy her growing urge and tiptoed back to her room, closing the door quietly behind her. The sweatshirt was forgotten and she quickly stripped down, lying on the bed and returning to her clit. That was the hottest thing she had ever heard, the sexual need it had created rivaling even what had happened the night before, with none of the performance and only a part of the morality anxiety that had been part of her time with Gwen.

Cricket paused at the sound of two pairs of feet in the hallway, wondering how she would explain if Gwen were to look in on her. The footsteps receded and she returned to her fantasy, imagining herself in the room with them, watching them make love—she would never actually do anything like that, of course, but it was fun to imagine—watching as Tim fucked his wife, the naked man occasionally looking over at the young woman and flashing a confident smile as buried himself in his wife. Her fantasy morphed, and now it was her under another man—it wasn't right for it to be Tim, but someone like him, her legs spread wide as she held on for dear life while he fucked her like she never had been fucked before. It's just fantasy, she rationalized, and she did think it without remorse, pulling the older man's tight ass deeply into her as he spent himself. Her orgasm was no fantasy, and she willed herself to remain quiet through her spasms, only a small squeak escaping her lips.

Cricket recovered as quickly as she could and redressed, hurrying back out to the barn, wondering how she would explain her absence. She stopped short in the kitchen. Tim was there, cleaning up the remains of the meal. "Oh, uh, hi," she said, nervously looking around. I was just in getting a sweatshirt—Gwen was right, it's chilly out there."

He looked up from rinsing a dish and smiled. "Did you get it?"

The young woman was confused for a moment, then realized she had not grabbed it after all. "Oops—forgot it again. Sorry, I'm a little scatterbrained with all the excitement."

"I understand. I've seen it before."

Cricket flashed an embarrassed smile. "Uhh, where's Gwen?"

"Out in the barn. We thought you were still out there."

"I should let her know I came in—for my sweatshirt."

His smile remained infuriatingly unreadable, but his eyes darted briefly to her chest before coming back up to meet hers. "Right. Your sweatshirt."

Cricket blushed and hurried out the door, the hue of her cheeks turning a deeper shade when she glanced down and saw how her nipples, unencumbered by a bra, were pushing up hard little points through her t-shirt. She debated going back for her sweatshirt to cover them, but the thought of returning past Tim's knowing look made her continue on. Gwen was still in the barn, dressed in muck boots and a bathrobe, scratching Dart's cheek.

"There you are. I was getting worried when saw Marvin, but no you."

"Oh, uh, I was in getting my sweatshirt."

Gwen smiled and glanced at her erect nipples. "I think you forgot it again."

"Uh, yeah, guess I did."

"Say goodnight and let's go back to the house," the older woman said softly. "You've both had a very busy day. He'll be here in the morning, I promise."

Cricket reluctantly did as was suggested, giving the horse one more hug before retreating after Gwen turned out the lights. "Did you tell him yet?" she asked as they crossed the yard, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it anyways.

"Mm-hmm."

"What did he say?"

"That he's fine with it—with what happened."

"But probably only that one time, right?"

Gwen smiled and continued to look down at the ground as they walked. "He didn't say that. Did you want it to only happen one time?"

Cricket's blush returned and she furrowed her brow. "Did you?"

"We can talk about it later, if you want. But we all have to work tomorrow, so tonight, we all need to get some sleep."

Cricket said her good nights in the kitchen with arms modestly crossed to cover her chest, the couple and their young guest all aware the others knew the now-open secret. Gwen signaled her intention to sleep in the nude despite the presence of a houseguest after she dropped her robe as she Tim entered their room, something her husband happily mimicked. Two rooms away, Cricket slept similarly attired.