Standard disclaimers.
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. . Also, 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.
*
The days before Thanksgiving were hectic. The business focused its efforts on customers needing working kitchens in time for the meals that would be prepared in them while Gwen readied the house for KD and Cricket's stays.
She was in town with a particularly busy schedule that Wednesday morning, her first stop the bank to pick up the check for the new truck loan they had taken out. Andrew had passed his Journeyman's test the week before, and true to their word, they were putting the oldest of their vehicles in his hopefully capable hands. But that couldn't happen until Tim's new truck (ownership had its privileges, he had replied when Mike asked why he got the latest addition) had been delivered. We should have done this weeks ago, Gwen grumbled to herself as she hurried into the lobby. We're way too busy, and Andrew might have been some help on his own.
Check in hand, Gwen's next stop was Murphy Motors, where a smiling young receptionist ushered her into the office of the dealership's business manager, Margaret Murphy. Tim had given Al Murphy the details of what was needed, this year's model of what Nelson Plumbing had purchased the last two times, and the truck was due in the next Monday.
"Gwen, how nice to see you again." Margaret said, rising from her desk. The older woman, easily four and inches taller and fifty pounds heavier than her customer, offered her hand. Most of those extra pounds were likely in her breasts, Gwen thought—larger than even Natalie's, and the very conservative business suit and jacket she wore could only mask so much. As she had overheard one of the contractors say at a Chamber of Commerce meeting, no man in town would pay less than full price if Margaret Murphy would begin negotiations by taking her top off.
But the dealership's business manager had always been careful to show less, not more; her style and bearing had always impressed Gwen as how a successful business woman should present herself. And that made Tim's assertion that it had been her partying naked on a boat with other naked men and women that much more unbelievable. Pictures of children and grandchildren covered the wall behind her as well as civic and business awards she had accumulated over the years. By all appearances, she was a very proper wife, grandmother, business and community leader. No, it couldn't have been her.
"We'll have it ready early next week," Margaret confirmed as they filled out the paperwork. "Are you guys working normal hours on Friday?"
"Tim likes to give everyone the day off after Thanksgiving, so no scheduled appointments. He'll cover any emergency calls—it's mostly grease-clogs and broken garbage disposals, things like that, anyways. I'm guessing the dealership is open?"
"We're retail, so I'm afraid so," Margaret said with a shrug. "Never can tell when someone wants to give a car for Christmas. We'll both be here on Friday, but I'm taking Saturday off."
Doing something fun?"
"I promised Al I'd clean out the boat," the blonde said with groan and a roll of her eyes. "It got used hard this summer, and I never really got a chance to clean up the cabin."
Boat? Gwen's belief that it could not have been the woman before her out at the so-called "party cove" was tested. "Oh, I didn't know you two had a boat."
"Oh yeah, had one for quite a while now."
"Where do you two normally go with it?"
The well-built blonde fidgeted uncomfortably. "Oh, here, there, wherever's close and we can put in."
"Oh—well, Cleaning up doesn't sound like much fun."
"Not as much fun as using the boat was, no."
Gwen could not help but imagine what the woman on the other side of the desk might look like without her business attire, without anything at all. She carried the few extra pounds well, and they probably only made her more voluptuous in the flesh.
"We'll call you as soon as the shop finished prepping it."
Gwen was startled out of her daydream. "Sorry?"
"We'll call you as soon as the shop finished prepping it," Margaret repeated with a smile. "I'm guessing you were just going over the list of things you had to do before tomorrow, weren't you?"
"Oh, sorry, I guess I was," Gwen lied, putting the woman's clothes back on. The last of the paperwork was completed without any further mental lapses, and they said their goodbyes. She slid behind the wheel of her SUV and quickly reviewed her schedule. Alison's, grocery store for a few last-minute things, then home in time to greet KD.
Gwen had promised her daughter she would check their apartment while they were spending the holiday with Jason's family outside of Chicago. Bring in the mail, water the plants, make sure everything was in order. Certainly nothing seemed amiss when she let herself in, the small living room quiet save for the ticking of a clock as she set the envelopes and flyers down on the table and began looking through the rest of the apartment before returning to the kitchen to begin watering.
Her hand brushed the mouse on the computer desk as she leaned over to reach a potted palm, the laptop next to it whirring to life and the sudden noise in the still apartment startling her. They must have forgotten they left it in sleep mode, she thought as she carefully spilling water on the machine. I should probably shut it down for them. The display sprang to life, a picture of Dancer filling the screen and giving away the computer's owner. Gwen pointed the mouse to the start button, then hesitated. Maybe Ali wanted it left on for some reason. I can leave it alone and it'll just go back to sleep. The Slut used this time to scan the screen for anything of interest, settling on the My Pictures folder. Might be fun to look at the wedding photos again, Gwen reasoned, but both Lady and Slut knew the real attraction, one screaming about the unthinkable invasion of privacy while the other egged her on.
Gwen had snooped on her daughters before, but the Lady insisted this was different. It was in your own home then, and you were looking for things Alison and Kathryn Deanna shouldn't have had. This is nothing more than satisfying your perverted curiosity. She got to look at your pictures, and don't forget she found your toys, the Slut argued convincingly, what's a little peek at her husband's cock? There's probably nothing in there to see, anyways.
Your son-in-law's genitals, the Lady huffed pointedly, emphasizing the last word, and if there's nothing in there there's no need to look. Once seen, it can't be unseen, she was reminded in the same voice used to warn her daughter. Gwen thought for some time before siding with the Slut and settled into the chair. Just a quick look, she told herself. I still have to go grocery shopping. There were more folders to click after the first, all named after places and events, and one labeled 'us'. Gwen took a breath and held it, again debating the wisdom of her action, then expelled as she clicked. There were dozens of files inside, the ones on the screen all named 'abjf' and numbered. Gwen double-clicked on abjf1.
She breathed a small sigh of relief at the picture of a slightly younger, fully-clothed Jason standing in what appeared to be Ali's college dorm room. There, satisfied? The Lady pleaded. Please shut down the computer and go get milk. The store is going to be packed! The Slut urged her to press the button again. With a click, Jason's shirt was now off, hamming it up for the camera in a muscle-man sort of pose, his chest and abdomen showing the results of his competitive swimming. Another click and his jeans were in the process of being removed, his back to the camera and a very brief pair of underwear his only cover. And then they were gone too, the young man's back still to the camera, his legs slightly spread and arms curled above his head in a classic pose, a very muscular backside topping well-defined thighs and calves. Gwen guessed correctly as to what the next photo revealed. Jason held the same pose, but had turned to face the camera. He grinned as his penis stood proudly at attention amidst a nest of black curls, pointing to the ceiling while his testicles hung heavily beneath.