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.
*****
"I usually get a warm washcloth to clean him up," Gwen advised softly. "Since you helped make the mess, think you can take care of that?"
Cricket looked up, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise, the spell broken. Her wild and chaotic thoughts came together long enough to proudly acknowledge that yes, she had made the mess—well, technically Tim had made it, but she had definitely helped cause it—and glanced back down at his hairy stomach and chest dotted with the evidence as if to confirm that yes, she really had done that. The naked young woman nodded dumbly, letting go of the cock still in her grasp and slid off the bed to hurry to the bathroom.
She reached for a washcloth, abruptly stopping to look at the woman in the mirror. Her cheeks and upper chest had the now-familiar rosy blush of sexual excitement, her painfully erect nipples begging for another's touch. If Daniel's family could see me now, she thought, contemplating the slut looking back at her, their long-held suspicions would be more than confirmed. Her sisters-in-law had always given her the impression they thought of her as some sort of sexual deviant for wanting to fornicate for her own pleasure. They might have forgiven her lust had she used it to make babies, but she hadn't been interested in that aspect of wifely duties. Of course, they didn't know or chose to ignore that their brother's needs were centered around the obligation he felt to produce a male heir rather than any evident physical or emotional desires.
They probably lack the imagination or experience to believe I've fallen this far, Cricket thought, critically studying her reflection. There was a time when their opinion of her sordid actions might have mattered, back when she was more unsure of herself, back before she met Gwen, but not now. What mattered was that she had done it—for the first time she had been an active participant in a man's pleasure, had been the cause of his orgasm rather than just biologically correct opening to fill. Of course, there were still the ever-present feelings of self-doubt she had when evaluating her performance, whether it be on horseback, at work, or in the bedroom. Yes, she had done it, but had Tim actually enjoyed it, or was he just being polite? Could a man even be polite with an orgasm? The heavy breathing and grunts made her want to believe he had truly enjoyed her efforts, as were the pulsing fountains of semen now on his chest...and her hand, she thought, looking down. The wet sheen was already drying in spots, but a particularly large pearl of his come sat atop the knuckle on her middle finger like the jewel on some obscene ring. She hesitated, studying the vivid reminder of what she had just done before bringing it to her nose. There was no smell, really, nothing compared to the mixed scent of pool chlorine and male musk she had gulped in while kneeling between his legs. Cricket glanced at the doorway to ensure her privacy and gingerly brought the knuckle to the tip of her extended tongue.
She had tasted sperm before, the traces left on Gwen's lips after she had serviced her husband, and once after a particularly frustrating session with Daniel. He had wheezed his way to an unusually quick orgasm before unceremoniously rolling off her and hurrying to the bathroom to clean up and redress. Fast, even for him, she had thought with bitter amusement while reaching down between her still open legs to stroke her tingling clit in apology for another frustrating night. Did men ever fake their orgasms, she wondered, and would he go so far as to do so to in order to be away from even their little bit of intimacy? She had been embarrassed to think she might be reason enough to do so. A sudden impulse urged her to tentatively probe inside her sex, feeling for any evidence proving he had not. She was wet there, wetter than what she imagined she could produce herself, and curled her finger to scoop out whatever he might have left. Cricket brought it up where she could examine the pearly goo more closely. Maybe he had been aroused to enough to relieve his pent-up urges in her after all...she brought it to her lips and got the impression of something salty and bitter, not terribly nice, and was suddenly filled with dread that perhaps the taste was the result of where it had been left and that her own body was the reason for the unpleasantness of it. Or perhaps it had just been a reflection of how she felt about her husband in general by that point. Either way, the overwhelming guilt and shame she immediately felt for putting in her mouth what was never intended to be sampled was enough to discourage her from ever taking another taste of it—or herself-again. It was not until Gwen had reassured her with words and actions that her pussy was not the repulsive thing she had begun to imagine it to be that she dared place the fault with him.
And now here was another sample, and another opportunity...her tongue made contact with the pearl on her finger and she curled the tip to collect the wetness, bringing it back past her lips. It had cooled considerably from when it had first landed on her knuckle after it had bubbled up in a late pulse before falling back on to her finger. There was not much of it, a small portion compared to what was still on his chest and stomach, but still there was a stronger taste of salt as it warmed on her tongue than the traces she had gotten from Gwen. There was a bleachiness as well—perhaps from the pool chlorine on his cock or her finger—but the taste did not trigger the feelings of disgust and self-doubt Daniel's had long ago. In fact, it wasn't terrible at all and decided she could handle more, if needed...
The washcloth soaked up the steaming water from the tap, and Cricket hurried back to the bedroom. Tim was still on his back, hands behind his head while Gwen lay on one elbow beside him smiling at her return. "Is it alright to touch it now?" The young woman asked, remembering how he had stopped her from continuing to stroke it immediately after she had emptied it.
"Oh, yeah," he said with an embarrassed smile. "It only takes a minute or two to get over that. Then it's ready for whatever you want to do to it. Look, I can clean myself up—you don't have—"
"No, I'd like to do it, if that's alright." Cricket knelt beside him before he could answer and began to gently clean the wet spots from his the sparse hairs of his chest, moving down to his more thickly forested stomach. She dabbed in and around his wiry pubic thatch before gently grasping the head of his softening cock between two fingers to move it and get to the puddles that lay beneath. The steel rod wrapped in yielding skin was gone, replaced by something more flexible, like...garden hose, she thought with a smile. Cricket worked carefully, meticulous in her efforts to bathe every last spot, even the loose sac hanging below his softening member. Memories of the care she had taken in grooming an instructor's horse after she had been once allowed to ride him came to mind; then, as now, she had worked to show her appreciation for being allowed such a privilege. Only it's not Gwen's horse, it's her husband, she sternly reminded herself for what seemed like the hundredth time. Cricket was pleased that just as she had developed no desire for her instructor's horse to become hers, she had no urge to possess the man whose body she was carefully tending to. The threat of it, an irrational fear that his orgasm might have triggered some sort of magical attraction in her, had occurred to her as she worked to coax the first spurt from his length. He still felt like just an older, wiser friend—not the kind of friends she and Gwen had become, certainly, but maybe she and Tim were friends with benefits now, whatever that meant? Cricket wasn't sure if an amateurish and educational handjob qualified her for that status.
"Thank you Cricket, that was really good," Tim finally said with a smile, lifting himself off the bed. "Lemme know if you two need anything." Cricket imagined he looked rather pleased with himself as swaggered out of the room, watching that very masculine ass flexing its way down the hall before turning her attention back to the naked woman on the bed with her.
"Sorry I sprang that on you like that," Gwen said softly, cupping the young woman's cheek. "I never told my students before the first time they were getting on the horse until it was right there in front of them. That way they didn't worry so much. I know it wasn't your first time, but still..."
"Close enough to the first time," Cricket replied with a chirp. "And I can't believe you're apologizing! Thank you for trusting me enough to do that!"
"Just between us, right?"
"Of course! Who am I gonna tell?" Cricket gladly allowed herself to be laid down, soft lips finding her own, a feminine hand delicately stroking the curve of her hip. Gwen's knee came up to gently push against the young woman's mound for Cricket to grind against. Her own hand pushed between the older woman's legs to find her very wet furrow, hips beginning to undulate in welcome to the finger on her clit. Gwen gently took a nipple between her lips, bathing it with her tongue, and Cricket moaned in response.
Gwen continued to gently tease her friend's breast as she rolled her on to her back, a knee opening the way for her to lie between Cricket's parted thighs. The young woman gently scratched her back in encouragement, remembering the excitement a body between her legs had always produced, even if this one lacked the masculine roughness as well as the one part she had become accustomed to accepting in this position. As a matter of fact, it was nice to have the body on top of her take it's time with her pleasure instead of being unceremoniously mounted and rutted like a chore to be performed. The missing sensation of being filled, as small as Daniel was, could easily be dismissed in favor of the slow sensuous grinding against her mons and clit.
Gwen pressed her body into the firm flesh below, reveling in the sensation of soft femininity against her own. Their lips met as the two women moved in tune with each other, tongues dancing while breasts and clits slid and ground against their opposite. Cricket was first to climax, frantically grabbing at the ass between her legs, desperately pulling it to her, twitching spasmodically against the pressure on her mons. Gwen was unable to stop her own motion long enough to let her friend come without any added stimulation, her own impending orgasm unwilling to be delayed. They lay there for some time afterwards, holding each other as they basked in their shared sexual high.
"Did I do alright?" Cricket finally asked softly, unable to look into the eyes inches from her own. "I mean, with Tim...he left pretty quickly after...I thought he would have stayed."
"He wanted to give us some time to ourselves," Gwen replied with a soft smile. "Maybe for us to recap your practice session in private, who knows? Besides, men usually have two things on their mind—sex and food, so I bet he went to get a sandwich."
Cricket responded with her own impish smile. "So, as my instructor...do you have any critique for me?"
"Practice makes perfect," Gwen laughed, "but I Tim certainly seemed to enjoy it, and I think you did, too. You did very well after being out of the saddle for a while."
"I did." Cricket admitted, "Enjoy it, I mean. but did you? I mean—are you still alright that happened, and that I liked doing it?"
"It happened because I wanted someone for you who we both could trust. I thought Tim has the qualifications, don't you?"
"Of course, but you didn't answer my question..."
"Yes. I'm still very alright you did that. I'm glad I could find you someone who meets my high standards for you. And I'm very happy that you liked practicing."
Tim was a little self-conscious of the freshening erection his imagination had awoken when the women joined him in the kitchen twenty minutes later, smiling in embarrassment as Gwen playfully made it bounce with a pat on the head as she went by. He quietly retreated to get dressed and was back in time to say goodbye to their guest with a polite hug.
