. 05

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.

*****

Tim and Gwen slept in the next morning, until nearly 7, sharing a quiet breakfast after she had collected the clothes that had been left in the truck the night before. Tim stood on the deck and watched her pick her way across the yard in bare feet, appreciative that she had left the rest of her bare as well. He never tired of watching her move, the same mixture of grace, poise and confidence whether she was dressed for work or not dressed at all.

Their plans for a quiet day together changed mid-morning when Ali called to ask if she and Jason could come over for an impromptu Sunday dinner. Of course a ride would be in order, and perhaps a swim too, leaving Gwen with quite a bit to think about.

She had been debating what to do with the gift saddle. She was keeping it, of course; she knew it would be used again. Better hiding places were considered, but lugging that thing around, as light as it was, every time barn visitors were expected would soon become tiresome and still would not account for the unexpected visits Ali was known for, and KD was due home for a short stay any time now...in the end she left it where it was under the blankets and hoped it would not be noticed.

The swim after the ride was another area of concern. Both she and her daughter had become quite comfortable with their shared dislike of swimwear; how would Tim and Jason react if Ali decided suits weren't necessary in front of them, either? Would she have the courage to join her in a show of solidarity?

They arrived just before noon, bringing the ingredients for the meal they had promised to help cook. Mother and daughter were in the barn moments later, Ali simpering over her horse while Gwen got the things necessary for a ride.

"I'll get your saddle," she called out while carrying her own past Ali.

"No, I got it," she replied, and was already in the tack room before Gwen could put hers down.

"What the heck is this?" The young woman asked as Gwen hurried back, the blanket covering her secret pulled away.

"It's, umm, a saddle," the older woman explained weakly.

"You sure?" Ali laughed, pulling the blanket all the way off. "I've never seen a saddle made of mesh."

"The frame is leather," Gwen pointed out. "The fabric is for, umm, to keep you from getting sweaty."

"Doesn't look very sturdy. That mesh is gonna come apart in no time after it starts rubbing up against a pair of jeans. Even riding breeches will probably wear this thing out in no time."

"It's not meant for riding with jeans or breeches, and it's not meant to be ridden for long distances," Gwen nervously replied, resisting the urge to pull the blanket back over it.

"So what is it for, exactly?"

"It's designed for bare skin," she answered simply, avoiding eye contact

"Like shorts?"

"Probably not..."

"Less than shorts?"

"I guess, yes, if you wanted."

It took a second for the young woman to solve the puzzle, her eyes widening. "Mother! You have a saddle that you're supposed to ride without pants?!" OHMYGOD! Where in the heck did you get this, and why?"

Gwen hurried to quiet her daughter. "Shhhh! Please lower your voice. Jason doesn't need to know."

Alison's shocked expression relaxed enough to allow her to raise one eyebrow more than the other. "Does Daddy?"

"Yes, of course he does. Look you have to promise not to tell anyone about this—not Jason, not KD, no one, alright? Just our secret?"

"I don't even know what I would even tell them, but yes, I promise. So, where did you get it, and why?"

"Remember, you promised not to tell anyone—and I mean anyone, right?"

"Yes, I said I promise," the young woman said excitedly, in a hurry to get some answers.

"Okay...remember a few weekends ago when I said I was going to ride with a friend—when you and Jason and his friend stayed here?"

The memory seemed to bring Alison up short for a moment, but she let it pass with a sly smile. "Yeah..."

"I was riding, but not with a friend, at least not exactly. There's this woman who wanted some pictures of Dart and I...together...working."

"Who is she? Somebody from when you were competing?"

"You wouldn't know her, Gwen half-lied. "And I don't think she ever saw me ride competitively. But she knows my old boss from the stable where I was at before I married your father, and we became acquainted and for some reason she wanted Dart and I to pose for a photography project she had in mind."

"Like what kind of photography project?"

"Just me riding Dart. It was all artistic, I swear!"

Alison noted the urgency of her mother's insistence on that fact. "Mom, exactly what kind of riding did you do?"

"I told you, it was all very artistic. Some dressage, some free riding..."

"Okayyyyy...so where's the saddle come into all this?"

Gwen hesitated. "She gave it to me as a gift for posing."

"An interesting gift, and an expensive one, I'll bet," Ali mused. She broke into a mischievous grin as she guessed at two pieces of the puzzle. "Did your posing have anything to do with that saddle?"

"Not that saddle, but one like it," Gwen admitted, blushing furiously. "Not Saturday, though-just Sunday!"

"Mom! What were you wearing, exactly?!"

"If you must know, I posed nude, alright?" Gwen blurted, deciding leather straps could not be counted as clothes. "But just Sunday." The first day was almost as obscene, the Lady intoned.

Ohmygod!" Ali repeated, this time softer. "My mother posed nude!"

"I'm so sorry! I'm sure that's the last thing a daughter wants to hear about her own mother, but you didn't want to lie to you..."

Alison grinned in amazement. "Are you kidding me? I think it's so cool you did that! I'm truly impressed

A flicker of pride flared in Gwen at her daughter's approval. "Thank you. I'm glad you're not upset," she replied with forced calm, flashing a sardonic smile of her own. "Can we just go for a ride now?"

She managed to avoid answering any more questions until they were on the trail, Alison finally wearing her down after convincing her mother she was truly interested rather than horrified. Neither woman paid their mounts much attention as Gwen did her best to deflect the persistent interrogation, careful to keep the description of the weekend's events general and not reveal the secrets of her benefactor's identity, Cricket's presence or the extracurricular activities.

"So when did you get it?" Alison asked, only temporarily satisfied with the details she had gotten.

"The saddle?"

"Of course the saddle!"

"A couple of days ago..."

"Going to use it? This trail's perfect for it."

The Lady urged a lie, that it had never been used and never would be. "I tried it out when I got it," Gwen confessed.

"Oh-my-God," her daughter repeated yet again. "So cool. Where?"

"Up here."

"No clothes?" Alison asked, her voice hopeful.

"No."

"None at all?"

"No."

"Wow! Okay, two questions. First of all, is the saddle comfortable, and second question, how did it feel to ride bareback? And by bareback, I mean you, not Dart," she added with a smirk.

"The saddle isn't too bad, really," Gwen allowed, if you don't mind being teased to orgasm, the Slut added. "And as for the second question, I was really nervous about it when I posed, and, and a little less so the other day. Not bad nervous, though, if that makes sense. How does it feel for you?" she asked, trying to turn the focus back on her daughter. "You must have done that before. You're much more daring than me."

Alison laughed, a small part of her wondering just how much her mother really knew about her. "Well...since we're telling secrets, maybe once or twice, when you weren't here. I always got sweaty and stuck to the leather, though..."

"I thought I told you girls no unsupervised riding," Gwen said, her stern mother voice breaking through. In truth, she knew when they had been riding without her—a piece of tack out of place or unwashed riding gear were usually giveaways. "Does KD know?"

"We were riding together," Alison laughed nervously, "we kinda dared each other. She was the daring one—no saddle, just a blanket. I was supposed to help her if she fell off!"

Alison skillfully returned the attention to her mother's weekend, the questions and carefully scrubbed answers continuing until they returned to the barn. Tim and Jason had done a good job getting dinner started, and mother and daughter were not overly taxed to complete it. The swim after was anti-climactic—Alison had packed a two-piece suit; Jason, a pair of swim shorts. Gwen was relieved, although no small part of her wished they weren't necessary—wearing her own had become an annoyance.

"Jason's an ass man," Tim casually announced as they got ready for bed that evening.

Gwen turned from where she had just dropped her shirt in the hamper. "And how do you know that?" He certainly had been in that video, the Slut mused.

"He was checking yours out pretty good up at the pool this afternoon-every chance he got. Can't blame him."

"Me? Are you sure?"

He laughed. "Uh-huh. He was really good about making sure you or Ali didn't catch him doin' it, but I think he forgot to check on me." Gwen panicked briefly, wondering if she had been caught making furtive glances at her son-in-law's bulge under the wet fabric of his shorts.

"And you're alright with...that?"

Gwen's tone made him believe he could be and shrugged. "What can I say? He's a guy and you do have a nice ass. I'll bet it put some ideas in his head, though...wouldn't surprise me if Ali's is gettin' a workout tonight."

"Tim!" she shrieked, an incredulous smile on her face. "You do remember that's your daughter's rear end you're talking about!" The Slut dismissed the fact that she had happily watched Jason do that very thing. "I thought most fathers are on a mission to preserve their daughter's purity?"

He laughed self-consciously and shrugged again. "She'll always be my little girl, but I also got used to the idea pretty quick once she hit puberty that's she's a woman with the female version of the hormones I had when I was her age. Most of the fathers I know who have sons are kinda proud to think their boys are studs when they're getting' some, why shouldn't I be happy for my daughters if that's what they want? I always thought it was bullshit that there's a double standard. Boys are encouraged to go out there and get as much as they can, girls are told to keep it locked away. Why do the boys get away with not being able to control themselves? Shouldn't they both have the same rules—no means no, be respectful, that sort of shit?"

"I suppose," Gwen answered softly. "But my parents definitely didn't see it that way. I always felt like my brothers got a free pass from them because they were guys and like you said, couldn't control themselves and as long as they didn't get anyone pregnant it was just boys being boys. But my mother made it very, very clear that it was a young woman's most important task in life to remain pure until marriage." She laughed and shook her head. "But, I also think she believes virginity isn't a moral quality as much as something you can trade for the right marriage. She said, 'a girl can only giver herself to a man for the first time once', and that it was something men would gladly wait until their wedding night for because they put such a value on it. I think she also figured they would satisfy their lust until then with women who didn't wait, like she had assumed Steven and Adam had. Of course, she also told me that I couldn't be surprised if my husband went back to sleeping around after that, but at least by then I'd have a husband to support me."

Tim laughed, "I'm sure your mother thought you made a bad trade to get me."

"To tell the truth," she replied thoughtfully, "I'm pretty sure she thinks I gave it away to you before we even got married. In her mind, working class men don't respect the rules of proper society. I think she believes proper young men respect the sanctity of virginity and just satisfied their urges with girls who gave theirs away before instead. But working-class men, well, they wouldn't play by the rules and wait, they'd just sweet-talk the girl out of it as soon as they could. I think you impressed her by still marrying me even though she was sure you got mine before. I'd love to tell her she was wrong about the status of my purity, too."

He laughed again. "Now THAT would be an interesting conversation." They grew quiet. "Were there any contestants for the prize before you met me?" he finally asked.

Gwen laughed and laid her head on his shoulder. "Only in my imagination. I really didn't find any of the boys from my parents' circle of friends attractive, even though there were a couple from really good families they would have been very happy to marry me off to. At least some of the boys at the stable were handsome..."

"What'd you like about them?"

"Oh, you know, I've thought they were real men, doing physical things, swearing...you know being men. I used to try and sneak a peek when they'd get all hot and sweaty and take their shirts off, but I'd never let them catch me looking—I didn't want them to think I was interested. I liked seeing their muscles...but they were too rough around the edges attitude-wise for me to be seriously interested in, if you know what I mean.

"Like Charlie rough?"

"Like that. Definitely not the kind of boy my parents wanted as a son-in-law. But still, sometimes I'd think about what it would be like for one of them to umm, do what my mother said they would, try and talk me into bed with them. I thought they'd have no problem taking charge and getting whatever they wanted and it wouldn't be really my fault if they did. But then I'd worry that they'd be like that all the time and I'd have to keep putting out for a guy I didn't like and why did I want to even be around guys like that, anyways? Miss Ritter was teaching me so much, getting me ready for a career..."

"And I came along and ruined it."

"You came along and gave me the best of all possibilities—a real man I could have a conversation with. And you were so handsome..."

Tim hugged her to him. "Thanks. So why me? What made me different from the guys at the stable? I was kinda rough around the edges too..."

Gwen laughed. "Oh no you weren't, not like them! That first day you came to talk to me, you made me feel like I never had before. My heart felt like it was fluttering the entire time..."

"You were probably still trying to calm yourself down after corralling that horse..."

"That? That was nothing. I could tell he was just a little upset and trying to make his point. I was calm until you found me," she replied, running her hand across his stomach. "You were really good-looking, like some of the guys in the stable, but you were also so polite, not like them at all. And I thought it was so nice that you cared enough to make sure that I was alright.

"Huh. Tell the truth, I didn't think I had made that good an impression."

"Oh, you did," Gwen assured him, "and I'm really sorry that's what you thought. But that's how my mother taught me I should be around boys, to act hard to get and make them work for it. And Miss Ritter taught me to be that way around everyone because she was training me to be better than them. I was so mad with myself after because I thought I had scared you away, but I was so glad when you came back to talk to me again. And the more you came to talk to me," she continued, "the more that I knew you were the real thing, that you were smart and funny and had plans for your life...I thought you were the perfect man. I still do."

"Awww, shucks..."

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"I used to imagine what you looked like without your shirt on."

"Really? Just no shirt? I still had pants on?"

"Uh-huh. I didn't really have good idea what boys looked like below the waist, and I didn't have much of an imagination, so that was enough..."

"How did I look?"

"Incredible."

"Well, that's good. I thought about you a lot, too, and I had no problems with my imagination."

"Really? And what did you think about?"

"Oh, you know, you taking your clothes off—all of them, not just your shirt, me doing incredibly nasty things to you, you doing incredibly nasty things to me...that kind of thing."

"I might have, if you had asked..." Gwen murmured.

Tim laughed. "Your mother and your boss had taught you too well. I never once thought I could have gotten away with that. I was positive you would have swatted me down and dumped me on the spot, and I had way too much respect for you to try and force you into it. On the other hand," he said, gently slipping out from underneath her and getting off the bed, "it might have been interesting if one of those stable hands had shown more guts than me and sweet-talked you out of those tight riding breeches of yours, gotten your purity instead of me." He shuffled to the nightstand and retrieved the big black cock Natalie had gifted her with. The dildo had not been in Gwen's regular rotation recently, supplanted by Nearly Neal and Tim's replica. He casually tossed the cudgel onto the blankets by her hip and moved to the foot of the bed. "Anybody at the stable that might've fit?"

She thought for a moment, a shy smile on her face. "Maybe one or two..." There had been one man in particular, the Assistant Stable Manager, a very large and imposing black man—what was his name?- easily twenty years her senior. Miss Ritter had hinted darkly that he had been rutting with several of the female stable employees, including one of her riding instructors. Gwen could never tell whether Miss Ritter objected because he was a black man preying on white women, or just because he was a man. He had always been polite to Gwen in a resigned it's-my-job sort of way...at least she had never heard him call her 'Ritter's little rugmuncher', or 'stuck-up dyke-bitch' when he thought her out of earshot, like many of the others had..."I think back then all I knew about sex was the girl opened her legs and the guy got on top of her," Gwen answered, eying the cock lying next to her. "But if I saw something that size for my first time I would have said no right then and there," she laughed nervously. "I wasn't sure it was going to fit when Natalie gave it to me!"

"Maybe one of them would have convinced you to give it a try...do you remember their names?"

"Not really...one started with W, I think."

"Okay, then we'll call him 'the Stud' for now, and maybe he would have done this first to help convince you to put it in." Tim knelt on the bed, firmly grasping her calves and spreading her legs before burying his face in her pussy." She was already easily wet enough to welcome the massive shaft, but Tim stuck to his task.

What was I saying about my lack of imagination? Gwen laughed to herself as a story began to form in her head. Old fears formed the basis for a new tale, one where Whatever-his-name-was, the Stud, had found out about Gwen's private lessons and had come to her room demanding her body in return for his silence. Her fear of his size wouldn't have mattered in the least to him. "Are all men as good as you at that?" she gasped.

"Like Charlie says, you have to practice. Not a lot of chances to practice when you're younger."