. 01

Oh God, he's back!

For those of you glad that this story had thankfully come to an end, sorry to disappoint and hey—why are you reading this anyways?

For those wondering where I've been; my humblest apologies, but some health issues and a need to take a break from this storyline made a hiatus both necessary and desirable. During the downtime I played around with the first chapter of a spinoff to this series, and while it's a fun project, I think I'm ready to continue with Gwen. Of course, you will have to be the judge as to whether continuing was a good idea.

So, having said that...

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. Negative comments on the subject of a story after you've been warned are a lot like a politicians against gay rights who gets caught in a public bathroom with a "wide stance". It just makes me believe you like the subject and are ashamed to admit it.

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.

*****

To Gwen the return home felt like stepping out of a twisted fantasy world and back into a safer, more familiar one, from barely in-control (the Lady flatly disagreed with the in-control part) sexual creature to just another wife, mother and business owner. She was thankful for the comfortable predictability of a life lived for so long, but also knew it was useless to deny it was the way things would be from now on. There would come a time when her corseted alter ego would demand they leave the safety of the kitchen for a chance to again run wild.

Comfortable predictability included a quick tidying-up of the house even though none was really necessary—Alison and Jason had done a good job of leaving things as they had found them. Still, old habits die hard...that included changing the sheets as she was sure from the way it had been made that her daughter and son-in-law had at least slept in their bed, if not used it for other purposes. A pair of men's underwear and a bottle of personal lubricant were tucked between the mattress and headboard, the briefs not Tim's and the lube not hers, confirming her suspicions or more than just rest. I guess that video was not the only time she let Jason have her that way, Gwen thought with a smile as she turned the plastic bottle in her fingers. That in turn called for a routine check of her nightstand drawer. Her toys had been rearranged, giving her a small perverted thrill that Jason had again gotten a peek behind the curtain that hid his mother-in-law's private desires. The thrill only lasted until she realized that Tim's replica had been in there as well. The idea that his daughter might have recognized it for what it was, or even worse hadn't and used it, put a damper on her excitement.

She was about to go tend to the barn when Natalie called from work, using almost all of her dinner break to get a complete play-by-play of the weekend. Gwen shared most of the details but omitted the interlude with the masseuse; the massage had begun to weigh on her conscience on the drive home. It was not the fact that she had allowed herself to be pleasured by a stranger, or even that she had in turn watched her husband enjoy the same treatment, that bothered her; it was the casualness with which she had accepted it and the absence of guilt or remorse that was most concerning. Sharing their bed with Cricket was different, she had convinced herself, that could be excused as a learning experience and confidence builder for the young woman, but allowing a total stranger to do "that", well that should be far more troubling than it was.

She was still wrestling with the massage's apparent lack of consequences when Natalie came to ride that Friday, insisting on a retelling of the weekend as they moved along the wooded path. "Did it ever bother you when a guy was, umm, with you and somebody else at the same time?" Gwen abruptly blurted out during a lull in the conversation before the Lady could stop it.

Natalie turned in her saddle, a mildly confused look on her face. "You mean when the guy was seeing me and someone else at the same time?"

"Not like that exactly, no, like when you were all together...in bed..."

"Ohhh, that kind of together. Not really, no...we're just fooling around, having some fun..." Natalie eyed her companion critically. "You've asked me that before." Her eyes widened and she smiled as if a great truth had been revealed. "Wait-did something happen last weekend you're not telling me?"

Gwen could feel the burn of her cheeks as she pretended to study the path in front of her while slowly beginning her confession. "Well, yes, I guess something did. Mrs. Danning arranged a massage for me after I rode on Saturday—she does that for all of her riders, I guess...and I, uhh, ended up getting a very complete massage, if you know what I mean."

"Like, you got turned on?"

"More than that...I, umm," her voice dropped to a murmur, "I had an orgasm."

Natalie let out a small whoop, one loud enough to startle Tigger. "Did she—it was a she, right?—know you came?"

Gwen nodded again, cheeks flaming. "Yes, it was a woman and she did it on purpose-said it was part of the kind of massage she was giving, if I wanted her to."

"And you said yes?" She nodded curtly. "That's a hell of a massage! You told Tim, right?"

"He was there. He saw it all."

Natalie turned serious. "He didn't get pissed off, did he? That's not what this is about, right? I mean, he sure seems to like hearing about what we do..."

"No, he wasn't mad at all. I'm pretty sure he liked seeing all of...that."

The blonde grinned. "So what's the problem? You think he should've been mad?"

"No, it's not that at all! It's just that...she, uhh, gave Tim the same kind of massage after me."

"Ahhhhhh...I think I see now. First time seeing somebody else get your man off and you're freaking out. It's understandable. Tell the truth, I remember being a little weirded out seeing Adam between another girl's legs the first time after I decided he was 'the one'."

Except it's not the first time you've seen someone else do that, the Slut corrected. Gwen chose not to share that tidbit. "That's the problem-it didn't bother me. I just sat there and watched her do it, like I was watching another rider work their horse, looking for ways to make my own technique better. What bothers me is she was a complete stranger and we both—actually, I- let her do that. Don't you think that's strange?"

Natalie laughed. "No, not really. I mean, she offered what sounds like something that's part of the normal package there, you took her up on it and let Tim have some, too. Sounds very fair and reasonable to me. So, handjobs, right?"

"Huh?"

"Handjobs?" the other rider patiently repeated. "She got both of you off with her hand?" Natalie's patient smile turned sly. "Or did she use something else?"

"Oh—no!—I mean, yes, she only used her hands—nothing else!" Gwen rushed to emphasize.

"And, so? Did you learn anything new watching your stallion get ridden?"

"She didn't ride him, she just used her hands," Gwen needlessly clarified. And...I did notice she really took her time before she let him...come, really drew it out. She seemed to know exactly when he was close, then backed off and brought him back up again. I always thought it was mean to make him wait that long, but it looked like he liked that. He made quite a mess!"

"I'll bet. A strange hand can have that effect. He might have been showing off a little, too. Guys wanna be known as a stud and not a dud in bed. And how about you? Did she know her way around the female body?"

Gwen smiled. "I think she knew what I wanted even before I did. I should have said no when she offered, but I was so, uhh, on edge from everything that had happened so far."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully, a teasing smile still on her lips. "Hmm. So was she better than me?"

"No! Not better, just...different. Or, I don't know, maybe it was just the situation that made it different. You know, strange place-"

"Strange person," Natalie finished. "Strange can be good, really, really good. New views and new moves, that kind of thing."

The clear sky and muggy heat made a swim a necessity after their return, their sweat-soaked clothes casually discarded poolside. "So I couldn't help but notice your photographer decided that warrior princesses don't trim their bush?" Natalie asked as they lounged side by side hanging off the pool edge within reach of their drinks.

Gwen glanced down to where her thatch was pressed against the concrete wall, suddenly a little self-conscious. "Oh-the stylist trimmed it both days."

"She couldn't have trimmed much. It looks like that first day before I cut it back. Remember that?"

Gwen blushed again. "How could I not? I was so embarrassed! I couldn't believe you talked me into letting you do that!"

"At the time, neither could I," Natalie confessed with a grin. "And you do remember that you promised me I could cut it again after you were done posing pretty for the camera, right?"

"I guess I did, didn't I..."

"Yup you did. C'mon, let's go get you nice and neat down there." Natalie led her out of the pool and into the bedroom, waiting for Gwen to finish gathering supplies before gently pushing her back on to the towel laid at the edge of the bed. "Spread 'em, honey," the nude blonde directed, cupping her chin thoughtfully as Gwen opened up to her, revealing her resurgent thatch. "I mean, it's not completely out of control, not like some of the ones I've seen...some of the women I've done at work really have a jungle down there, and don't even get me started on the guys! What you've got doesn't completely hide those beautiful pussy lips of yours, just makes 'em harder to see. So straight and silky smooth...," she mused, bending slightly to gently pet the growth before looking up at its owner. "Tim likes less than more, right?"

Gwen giggled despite herself. "I think he's more interested in what's underneath."

"Think he'd like an unobstructed view? 'Course, taking it all off will be like giving him a brand new pussy to play with...not to mention more time licking, less time picking pubes off his tongue."

"You mean, nothing at all? Bare?"

"You've been almost there before...just a couple more swipes of the razor is all it would take."

Natalie reached for Gwen's phone on the bureau behind her. "Hold still," she commanded, focusing the camera on the dark silky patch of hair.

"What are you—"

"Just hold still." Picture taken, Natalie began typing a message. "To Tim," she announced. "Giving him a before shot."

"You're crazy!" Gwen laughed, knowing he would appreciate the little reminder of what was waiting for him at home.

Natalie knelt between the widespread knees, scissors in hand, sporting a mischievous grin while inserting a finger in Gwen to collect some moisture and slowly drag it up her slit before beginning to cut. The snicking of the blades was rapid-fire at first but slowed as longer strands became difficult to find. The phone was retrieved for a "during" picture, Natalie again inserting a finger only to withdraw it and spread the moisture over Gwen's clit until her hips twitched in response. Shaving cream was next, the fluffy layer of white masterfully reduced by drags of the razor.

Natalie paused to admire what her work had revealed. The gentle swell of Gwen's outer labia seemed to clamp together in an attempt to hide the delicate inner lips between them, only the owner's aroused state making them flower enough to allow a peek. "You really do have the prettiest little pussy," Natalie murmured as she collected the last wisps of foam and reached for a towel to finish the job. "It really deserves to be shown off. We could always send this one to the photographer," she suggested, reaching for the phone again. "Maybe he'd ask for a re-shoot?"

"I'd like to think that was not the focus of his work," Gwen deadpanned. Everyone certainly got a good enough view at it on Sunday, she silently mused, hair-covered or not. But what would Marco do with a closer look...

"Well, I'm sure Tim will enjoy seeing what we've been up to," Natalie said with a chuckle. She again studied her efforts. "It looks good enough to eat..." she bent to gently kiss the still-damp flesh of Gwen's outer lips, lightly planting more up and down the length of the furrow before inserting a tongue, getting a shiver and soft sigh in response. The blonde smiled at the unspoken welcome, nibbling and licking while reaching up to take one of Gwen's breasts in each hand. She had her sister-in-law well on the way to the climax she had been hoping for since breakfast before pulling away to grab for the nearby bottle of baby oil. "Don't want this delicate skin to dry out and chafe..." Natalie rose and straddled Gwen's leg, pressing her own sex against the freshly oiled one beneath. "Let me rub that oil in some more," she purred, falling forward on to her hands and slowly moving her hips.

Gwen welcomed the pressure and flexed to create some more while reaching to gently cup and weigh the wobbling tits dangling over her own. Natalie smiled and closed her eyes, groaning in appreciation at the feel of fingers stroking her nipples.

The small patch of hair gracing the top of Natalie's mons at first tickled bare skin until the movement of her hips grew more frantic, the wiry tuft quickly turning soft and slick as it became soaked in baby oil and arousal. Gwen was the first to succumb to the insistent pressure on her clit, her hands reflexively squeezing the breasts they held as she climaxed, her breath catching in her throat as wave after wave of intense pleasure radiated from her sex. She risked a look up as Natalie continued to grind towards her own finish, her eyes screwed shut and lower lip captured between her teeth. Red blotches spread out from where fingers still squeezed the flesh beneath; Gwen quickly let go, worried and embarrassed her loss of control had caused pain.

"No—keep squeezin' 'em—hard," Natalie panted, eyes still closed. "I like that sometimes." Despite the direction, Gwen's grip was still tentative but it was apparently enough for their owner, gasping out a rhythmic chant to announce the arrival of her orgasm. She fell forward on to the body below her, face buried in Gwen's neck, the hands that had been clutching her tits moving to gently stroke her back while she recovered. "Thanks!" she finally said after rolling off to lie back and catch her breath.

"Thank you!"

"Welcome, any time," Natalie said with a laugh, playfully patting the flesh she had shaved just a short time ago. "And you'll have to tell me what Tim thinks of the new look."

***

Gwen could always tell exactly who it was coming up the office stairs based on the sound of their boots. Their pace, weight of their footfall and the scuff of bootsoles on worn wood—every one of the plumbers and apprentices had their own calling card. This afternoon she knew it was Tim from the second step, his pace quicker than normal at the end of a busy day of a busy week, but still distinctly him. There was another pair of boots right behind him, Andrew's, she knew even as the sounds of out-of-sync footsteps thudded up to her. She had dressed appropriately for the return of the trucks after Natalie had left; still, she did one last check down her shirt, ensuring that everything had been properly buttoned up.

"Oh—thank you," she said, taking the paperwork both men had brought. "I was just coming down for that."

"No problem, like to see it gets in the right hands," Tim said affably. "Oh, and thank you for sending the pictures of that landscaping job. Quite a change from last week! I like it a lot!"

Gwen blushed, nervous their audience might somehow break the code. Still, the Slut managed to goad her into a reply. "The landscaper will be glad to hear that."

"I could have done it, though. I wouldn't have minded at all."

"I know, but they were here, and..."

Tim laughed. "Did they, uhh, hang around after?"

Her blush deepened, responding after a quick glance at the young man standing behind her husband. "For a bit."

"Good—you'll have to give me the details later. Oh, hey, Andrew, do me a favor? I had to refill one of the propane tanks today. Can you go down and see if you can find the receipt in my truck? Should be in one of the cup holders."

It didn't look any different around the house when I drove in, the young man thought as his bosses conversed. They must have had some work done up by the pool. I'll have to find a way to check it out sometime-might create some new opportunities for a better view without being seen... "Sure—who's it from?"

"Lensky's. Should be the only one in there."

"Got it."

Tim waited until the bobbing head disappeared down the open stairwell. "Can I see?"

Gwen knew exactly what he was asking. "Later," she said in a voice just above a whisper. "Once we get back to the house. Then you can look all you want."

"I'm gonna do more than just look when we get back to the house. C'mon, just a little peek?"

"He'll be back any second!"

"He's gonna have a little trouble finding it... c'mon, hurry up and show me."

With feigned exasperation she reached for the button of her pants and quickly undid it, pushing them down along with her sensible underwear a few inches. She grasped the waist of the unbuttoned pants, ready to pull them back up, but Tim stepped forward and ran his callused hand over the freshly exposed skin. "Nice and smooth," he grumbled, snaking a finger into her. "And wet, too."

"Later," Gwen admonished, playfully pushing his hand away and putting her clothes back in order.

"That's for sure."

Andrew's boots were again on the stairs, the Nelsons vaguely guilty stares back at him as his head rose above the landing giving the impression he had interrupted something. "I, uhh, didn't find a receipt..."

Gwen got a surreptitious wink from her husband as he picked up the stack of papers she had set down on the desk. "Oh-sorry—here it is. Forgot I already put it in here. C'mon, let's go take a quick look at that flow meter you said you were having trouble with before you leave."

"That was too risky!" Gwen laughingly admonished her husband as they walked back to the house after everyone had gone. It was the Lady that had insisted she say that; in reality the risk had been worth the thrill—it would have been close, but the sound of Andrew on the first step had given her just enough time to button and zip up. "Imagine if he had caught me with my pants around my ankles like that!"

"They were way above your knees," Tim patiently retorted. "Hell, they were barely down far enough for me to see anything."

"You saw it all! Honestly, you'd think you've never seen it before."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I don't get tired of looking at it, and now it looks different-even before when you'd leave that little patch on, you still weren't completely bare. Wonder if it feels different."

"You should know—you've already touched it."

"With my hand, yeah, but there's a few other parts of me that I want to try..."

Tim was still openly admiring her shaved sex later as he lay between her legs, gently kissing the bare mound and smooth lips before letting his tongue go to work. Gwen smiled at his enthusiasm. She could appreciate why he found this part of her so mesmerizing, he was a man after all, and here was the focus of his primal lust within his control and as exposed as it ever had been. As for herself, her pubic hair had always been nothing more than a convenient screen for the unsightly cleft it covered before she had first consented to have it trimmed down. Getting that first close-up view of Natalie's had been a shock, but once she had gotten over the fright of it being just inches from her face she began to develop an appreciation for this special part of a woman. Getting to know Cricket in the same way had shown her that each woman's sex was beautifully unique, her young friend's puffy outer lips that mostly hid the delicate petals between them contrasting with her sister-in-law's abundant labia blooming from her slit, her arousal making the crinkled folds turn scarlet and purple. The others she had become acquainted with since then, either through stolen glances or open displays, only strengthened her belief in their uniqueness.