For those who have stumbled across this story for the first time, please be aware that this chapter may or may not have much or anything to do with the selected category. Many of the earlier chapters do fit more neatly into the exhibitionist area; please be sure to go back and start from chapter 1 if that is where your tastes lie.
Now, 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.
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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.
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Cricket heard the couple's soft footsteps in the hallway before the light spilling through her cracked door was extinguished. She delayed a few moments before getting up, not wanting to be caught out in the hall wearing nothing more than a short t-shirt should her hosts remember they had forgotten some chore before bed. She didn't wait too long, though; the young woman hoped Gwen's inquiry as to the status of her toys had been a hint of things to come and didn't want to be late.
She stepped into the hall and quickly recoiled. The soft glow of a bedside lamp shone through the partially open master bedroom door to her left, open enough that she feared her impatience had led to her discovery. Her heart thumped wildly as she retreated back into her darkened room and cowered, waiting for the light and footsteps. The hall remained dark and there was only the sound of indistinct voices. Her adrenaline subsided and she risked another peek, deciding that their door was still closed enough so that she could not be seen from their bed. Cricket considered staying right where she was, but being closer meant the sounds of sex would be all that much clearer. She crept to within a couple feet of the partially open door, holding her breath to avoid giving away her approach, thankful for the lack of creaking floorboards.
Cricket clearly heard Gwen's admiration for her husband's size, and she wondered just how big that might be. Tim was broad-shouldered but not overly tall; did a man's height and weight relate to what swung between his legs? Cricket had no real experience with anything like that; the only one she had gotten to examine at length had belonged to the boy who had passed out in her bed at college, and even after using a finger to tentatively stroke it that one had remained soft and shriveled, like a frightened little animal. While interesting, had not been at all awe-inspiring. The others had just stuck theirs in without much of a show, probably worried she would change her mind and deny them access if they delayed. As for Daniel, well, he had seemed rather small, but without anything other than her dildo to compare his penis to, maybe that was just how she wished to remember him.
Tim's not the loud one tonight, Cricket thought as she tried to control her breathing while her hand snaked up and under her shirt, it was the normally reserved Gwen. Louder than she could remember, even when they were together. Like she wanted to be heard... the open door was likely no accident.
The masturbating woman smiled at Tim's call of "cowgirl up"; having a pretty good idea as to what position he was inviting his wife to put herself in. She imagined his erection standing up straight like a pink-tipped fencepost and the older woman swinging her toned leg over his hips like she was getting into the saddle. Of course, no saddle she was aware of had a spike to impale yourself on...although it might be an interesting aid to balance, control and posture, she mused.
Cricket's hands and fingers worked without prompting as she listened to her friend ride the mount beneath her, thrilled by the sound of her orgasm and happy for her friend that Tim had made sure she had been well satisfied before directing Gwen onto her hands and knees for his own needs. Cricket had no problem envisioning that position either, Tim tucked up behind and in his wife in that most primal of all sexual positions. She had seen stallions take mares that way and decided that males in rut were the same no matter the species, and she listened to the sound of skin slapping against skin while Gwen encouraged him to "use her pussy." So that's what she called it. The young woman's own sex had first been a flower and then a kitten when growing up, cute words to disguise its ugliness. In adulthood and then in marriage it had become her vulva—clinical and unattractive, a more fitting description.
Even Tim's announcement of his imminent orgasm was not unlike a stallion's rumble before his moment of release, she thought with a smile. Gwen's response stunned her. A cunt! She had called it a cunt! Cricket had been called a cunt before, at the riding academy by jealous girls with more money and less talent, and more recently by Daniel when she told him about her lawyer. It was a cruel and vile word, meant to demean and belittle. But that wasn't the way Gwen had used it. Her friend had made it sound like sexuality in its rawest form, powerful and mysterious and confident, and she sensed in Tim's repetition a certain respect, reverence (and perhaps shared ownership) for that most magical part of his wife's body. Cunt. Others had used it to show their complete lack of respect for her; but Cricket knew it would be her name for it too, for that mysterious spot between her legs with unlimited potential for pleasure and power.
Cricket hurried to her bed as soon as Tim signaled with a last loud grunt that he had finished filling Gwen with his seed, to her waiting dildo and vibrator. She imagined pushing through the partially open door and openly playing with herself as she watched the couple make love, pausing her own drive for orgasm to help speed her friend to climax even as Tim continued to fuck her. And then she was presenting her naked body to a man like Tim—not him, though, even in fantasy she could not imagine her best friend sharing something as precious as her husband. The Magic Wand buzzed madly and the cock inside her was not rubber but instead belonged to the man she was graciously offering the use of her cunt to. Cricket came, dimly aware that she might be overheard, not caring if she was. The waves subsided, her senses returned, and she managed to let the faux penis slip from her before the wine and post-orgasmic bliss sent her off to sleep.
She awoke the next morning, her still-open door letting in the sound of breakfast being prepared. Tim had passed that open door an hour before, resisting the urge to take a quick peek inside, fearing that he would have some explaining to do if either the young woman was awake or Gwen chose that time to come down the hallway.
Cricket dressed quickly, upset with herself for sleeping in while the barn chores had likely been done in her absence. She hurried into the kitchen where Gwen was finishing a skillet of scrambled eggs. "Good morning."
The older woman looked up from the pan and gave a quick smile. "Good morning. I, uhh, made you some eggs, hope that's alright."
"That's wonderful, thank you, but I really should be doing that for you. And chores. Although I'm guessing they're done, too. I'm really sorry I slept in."
"It's alright. You needed it. You've been working and studying very hard."
"Where's Tim?"
"Fishing with a friend. Should be back this afternoon."
Cricket could see her friend seemed vaguely uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact. She said nothing and the awkward silence drover her towards panic. Had her confession last night been way out of line? (of course it had!) Maybe she had been discovered standing in the hall, or had been heard pleasuring herself after their lovemaking?
"I, uhh, want to apologize, for last night," Gwen finally began, furiously scraping the now-empty skillet. "I had too much to drink...I guess you heard us...it wasn't right for us—for me to do that. Please forgive me."
"I had too much to drink, too," Cricket offered, strangely relieved to hear remorse and not anger in her friend's voice. She moved beside her and reached for a coffee cup. "I should be the one apologizing—I'm such a pervert. I'm sorry, but what I said last night I still mean. I like hearing you and Tim. It makes me happy. In more ways than one."
"Then I guess we're all perverted," Gwen said, finally smiling, "It just seemed so unfair, teasing you like that."
"It wasn't teasing. Like I said, it makes me feel a lot better to know that you and Tim are still good together. Besides, it helps me imagine what it might be like for me some day, if I get really, really lucky. Did you leave your door open on purpose last night?"
Gwen nodded. "Sorry."
"Then thank you. I'm really flattered that you trust me enough to share such an intimate moment with me. You know I left my own open on purpose so I could hear better, right?"
"I was wondering." The older woman eyed her doubtfully. "Are you sure you didn't mind? It just seemed like a rude thing to do."
"I think it's a very kind thing to do," Cricket replied. "You two go at it all you want. It's nice to hear it can still be fun and exciting after being married such a long time. So, are we riding today?"
"Uh-uh, as soon as you finish eating and I make lunches for us to take. I thought we'd be out a while. The rain they're calling for isn't supposed to come in until tonight."
"Marvin'll be happy about that. I can tell he's really getting in to this new lifestyle."
***
It was nearly 2pm when they returned, the last couple of miles covered at a quick pace as the rain arrived early and thoroughly soaked horses and riders. Their mounts were meticulously dried and groomed before the women turned their attention to their own needs.
"I'm not going to sit in the hot tub in this downpour," Gwen said as they hurried to the house. "I guess a shower will have to do."
"Tim's going to be home soon, right?" Cricket asked as they stomped into the kitchen.
"Yes, I think so, why?"
"Just wondering if we had time to share the shower. I'll use the one in my bathroom, then."
"Use ours. You go first. I can wait."
Cricket smiled and headed down the hallway while her host checked phone messages. Gwen could hear the running water when she came back to the bedroom and stripped down, waiting for her turn. She could imagine the young woman's toned and glistening body under the spray. Maybe there might be time to join Cricket...
She heard the sound of truck and trailer crunching across gravel and dismissed the thought. Guess not. The naked woman briefly considered throwing on at least a t-shirt to greet her husband in, but decided it wasn't worth the bother. Gwen got to the kitchen in time to see Tim sprinting across the yard to the deck.
"Started raining at the lake about 10," he announced as he hurried through the door before seeing his wife and trailing off. "I saw Cricket's car, I, uhh, didn't interrupt anything, did I?"
"She's in the shower," Gwen said as she kissed him. "I was going to get in after she finished, but you look like you should be next. You're soaked."
"I'm not too bad," Tim lied. "I dried off some in the truck on the way home. Did you two just, uhh, get home?"
"Not too long ago," Gwen explained, knowing what he was really asking. "We groomed the horses and then I sent her in to clean up and warm up."
Tim smiled and eyed the nude body in front of him. "I guess you're already warm?"
"Warm enough. I'll go see how long she's going to be so you can hop in after she's done."
"No hurry," he said as he followed her down the hall. "You take it after. I'll just use the girl's bathroom."
