Author's Note: Thank you all for reading, especially those who have been taking the time to vote and leave your comments. Constructive critique welcome!
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.
*****
Gwen was first into the shower, playfully dismissing Tim's attempts to join her in the too-small bathtub while she washed away the oil from her breasts and stomach. He waited patiently for her to finish before trading places with her to clean the slickness he had accumulated from his slide down her body.
Gwen stood looking into her overnight bag, idly pondering the merits of either the jeans or the sundress she had packed. The Lady's demands for some guilt or shame were proving to be a distraction, not so much for the acts themselves anymore, that rebuke had lost its effectiveness, but instead for her willing submission to another, even if it was her husband. Gwen had vowed to never again allow herself to be somebody's plaything after her experiences with Miss Ritter; The Lady pointedly reminded her that this broken promise only highlighted the weakness her growing perversion was exploiting.
For Gwen, the thought frightened her. She was the boss, the bitch with iron panties, always in control, but she had truly enjoyed letting go of that for a while and letting Tim have his way—just like Miss Ritter did, the Lady ominously reminded her.
It's not an all-or-nothing thing, the Slut countered. You let it go for a while—you just took a break, and it felt good. You can take back control any time you want. Try it! She smiled and reached for the sundress as a plan began to form despite the Lady's protests.
He's so attractive, Gwen thought as her naked husband walked out of the bathroom, toweling his hair. A handsome face and easy smile, muscular arms and legs, and while he didn't exactly have a six pack, his stomach and chest just made him seem so male, so masculine. Not to mention that beautiful thing swinging between his legs...it was sleeping now, the soft length hanging halfway down over his loose sac. She felt a pang of regret over taking so long to fully appreciate the man she had been blessed with on nothing more than dumb luck, and briefly reconsidered subjecting him to her plot before silently promising to make it worth his while.
As Tim feared, breakfast was over by the time they made it downstairs to check out, getting directions for a nearby place serving brunch the desk clerk swore by. They found it a mile down the road and were seated at a quiet table for two in the middle of the small dining room. "Nice dress," Tim noted as they waited for the server. "New?"
"From your daughter's closet. I don't think she even remembers it was there." It was a floral print, two not-quite spaghetti straps over her otherwise bare shoulders, the hem ending above her knee. Gwen had thought it too revealing when it had first been purchased, but it hadn't been her money...
Tim didn't look up from his menu. "Ali, or KD?" he asked distractedly.
She giggled. "Alison. Do you think my chest is even close to being up to the task of filling out something of KD's? I'd need a lot more...volume..."
Tim glanced about, guessing nobody could hear or was paying attention to their conversation. "Yours are perfect just the way they are," he volunteered softly, his voice dropping to a rumble. "Perfect for looking at, and...other things."
"You don't think they're too small?"
"They're perfect." he repeated, returning his attention to the menu, trying to decide between waffles or eggs. Gwen Nelson talking about her tits in the middle of a busy restaurant, he thought with a smile and shake of his head. Ain't things crazy.
Their orders placed, Gwen bent to pick up her napkin she had dropped alongside the table while the young waitress had been asking Tim about his choice of potatoes. His eyes widened as he watched her bend at the waist, waiting until she had sat back up before leaning across the table towards her. "You're not wearing a bra," he whispered, more of a statement than a question.
Gwen leaned forward to meet him halfway. "I'm not wearing any underwear at all," she whispered back. "Is that alright? Should I go out to the truck and get some?"
"NO—no," he grumbled even as his eyes glanced downward to see if she was exposing herself even now. "But I thought we were stopping at Outdoor Outfitters on the way home?"
"You said you wanted to, right? You were looking for some new lures?"
"Well, yeah, but there'll be a lot of people there..." he glanced meaningfully at her chest.
"Then I'll just have to be careful, right? It'll be just between us. But if you change your mind, I do have clean underwear in my bag..."
He smiled. "No sense adding to the laundry."
Tim's appetite was not diminished in the least by the secret he had been let in on, although he did eat with one eye on the other diners, wondering if some of them might have already caught a glimpse of something they shouldn't have. He did his best to pay attention while Gwen firmed up some of the expansion plans started at dinner the night before, thinking how much she looked like your typical Sunday morning soccer mom— a classic Southern belle if she had been with the kind of man she was supposed to have married, he reminded himself—and yet nothing about her gave the other diners any clue that only a thin layer of floral print fabric prevented her from being exposed as someone not quite so prim and proper. His glances about the room occasionally stopped on some of the other women, wondering if they were dressed similarly, if they too had secret sides known only to a lucky few...
To his disappointment she was indeed careful all through their meal and then out to the truck, delicately climbing into the passenger seat with legs closed enough to prevent an inappropriate peek while he held her door open. She successfully reversed the process in the parking lot of Outdoor Outfitters, "everything for the outdoor sportsman under one roof!" and took Tim's hand as he led the way into what before this weekend had been the only toy store he cared to spend time in. Gwen had been here before with him; it was a favorite stop of his whenever he was in the area. She remembered the layout of the immense building and could believe the slogan, a main floor complete with stuffed hunting trophies scattered about a mountain pond stocked with fish. Second and third floors opened out onto the view of the first below, balustered railings lining the balconies above the atrium. The throng of customers always struck Gwen as a curious mix of men and a surprising number of women, urban professionals shoulder to shoulder with the more rural residents of the state, "rednecks," as some of them proudly proclaimed themselves, and she could understand how hunters and fisherman—and her husband-could easily spend an entire day here moving about the various displays, demonstrations and seminars..
"What time you want me to meet you?" Tim asked after they paused just inside the entrance. Gwen had always set him free to wander for a set period of time while she sat in the café towards the rear of the main floor, instructing him to meet her there once his allowance of time was up.
Gwen smiled. "Can I go with you? I promise to let you look as long as you want. But if you think I'll be in the way..."
"No, you can come with me if you want," he replied quickly before she could change her mind. "Might be pretty boring for you, though." Tim led the way through the clothing displays between the entrance and the open wooden staircase that rose in an arcing sweep up to the second floor and everything fishing. She looked down at the shoppers below as she climbed, guessing the design of the stairs might allow them a quick glimpse up a skirt or dress if a girl wasn't careful. I would have settled for a thong, the Lady grumbled, certain the perverts below had worked out well in advance exactly where and when to look up. Gwen took her time, each step deliberate as she looked about, Tim keeping pace. He had guessed at the view from below as well and made note of her slow climb.
Gwen had been on the second floor once before to collect Tim when had forgotten the time and the amount of things invented by mankind to catch a fish amazed her now as it had then. They wandered together through the racks of poles and shelves of lures, line and nets, clothing and coolers. Tim's attention was been split between the latest in fishing technology and his less than fully-clothed wife, watching as she wandered from time to time out to the railing while he examined the advances made in line strength, wondering if someone might be discretely standing underneath her and looking up.
She patiently stood next to him while he kneeled in front of a low shelf, debating the merits of the frog-jig lure he held. A mannequin dressed in waders, flannel shirt and vest at the end of the row caught her eye and she smiled, imagining herself dressed in just the waders, wondering if Tim might find that sexier than lingerie. Or would he like just the vest, and nothing else...a giggle escaped her at the idea of fishing gear becoming the new naughty nightie and imagined modeling them at Cho's next party, or perhaps even at one of the many product demonstrations they gave at that little theatre downstairs...
Tim looked up from where he was kneeling. "What?"
"Oh, nothing." She turned away from him and bent over to retrieve something from the rack while he watched the hem of her dress rise higher and higher, the line of sight from where he kneeled perfect for seeing the first hint of a darker split nestled between firm thighs. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a man to his left, the view from where he stood probably not as good but still enough for him to take note of the ass being presented. He caught Tim's glance and hurriedly returned his attention to the multicolored lures in front of him.
