A New Way of Seeing Things Pt. 03 Ch. 18

"You have to practice what you've been watching eventually."

"You find the guy, I'll practice. I'm not picky. If he's got your seal of approval, that's good enough for me."

"The only man who will get my seal of approval is one who deserves the attention of someone very special."

***

The riders turned their attention to themselves after their horses were groomed and turned out to stand with the others in the shade of the barn's overhang. A cold drink and swim, perhaps some late lunch, were a given before Cricket went home. She was dispatched to the workshop to let Tim in on their plans while Gwen went to the house to collect towels and drinks.

They were waiting for her at the pool when Gwen got there, neither terribly surprised she had discarded her riding gear down at the house. Her appearance was Tim and Cricket's signal it was safe to begin their own undressing, Gwen amused that neither had felt bold enough to get a head start without her present despite the oppressive midday heat.

They stood for a moment on the hot concrete with glasses in hand, sipping from them and talking about their mornings before they sat their drinks down within reach of the pool's edge and slipped into the cool, sparkling water. Gwen admired her friend's bare bottom, glistening wet and very firm, as it briefly broached the surface before the owner dove again on her way to the pool's edge. A quick glance confirmed Tim had been admiring it as well, eyes fixed on the spot it had disappeared beneath the water.

Cricket surfaced at the far end and pushed off the wall, now on her back with eyes closed against the glaring sun, seemingly unaware she was gliding in her friend's direction. Gwen was entranced by the body drifting towards her, pert breasts forming little volcanic islands above the wavelets that washed across her firm stomach and down between her closed legs. Her pubic thatch almost seemed alive as the silky strands waved to and fro in the gentle current flowing over it. It never occurred to her to move out of the young woman's way as she drew closer, and a lazy kick of her feet softly propelled the top of Cricket's head into Gwen's midsection.

Surprised by the obstruction, she spluttered and struggled to stand in the waist deep water. Gwen reached out to steady her, one hand beneath Cricket's belly button, the other firmly palming a breast, pulling the young woman's body into her own.

"Sorry, I should have been looking where I was going," Cricket stammered, now firmly on her own two feet. The hands holding her close did not move away, Gwen's sun-warmed breasts and stomach a welcome shock against her own chill.

"My fault, I should have moved," Gwen countered softly from over her shoulder, close to her ear. "I saw you coming, but you just looked so...nice, floating like that. I guess I was distracted, sorry."

"Better than bumping my head into the wall." Cricket covered the hands with her own to prevent them from withdrawing. "Thanks for catching me."

"Mm-hmm." A soft kiss on the young woman's neck made her shiver. "Cold?"

Cricket closed her eyes and smiled. "No, warming up. You feel nice."

"Thank you. So do you." The kisses on her neck resumed, and the young woman tilted her head to open up to the soft lips. She loosened the hold on the hands underneath hers, wishing them into action. She was not disappointed, and her rapidly-drying torso was stroked and caressed. It felt good, too good not to share, and she turned to find the lips that were now tormenting her ear. Cricket caught a glimpse of Tim leaning back against the pool's edge at the shallow end near the stairs, watching with a guilty grin. His hands were on the coaming behind him, making it appear as if he was thrusting his hips and very evident erection at them. Gwen's lips brought her attention back to the woman holding her.

The next few moments were an overload of sensations for Cricket—the warmth of the body in front of her and the glaring sun on her back, the warmth between her legs despite the chill of the water she stood in, the softness of her kiss and a searching tongue sliding across her own, the erotic thrill of putting on an erotic display for an audience. Gwen and Cricket held each other, their hands both turning gentle circles on shoulder blades and lower backs, occasionally taking firmer holds of butt cheeks.

Gwen finally broke the kiss. "I was hoping you might want to before you left."

"Really? Me too!"

The older woman looked over her shoulder to where her husband stood entranced. "Tim, do you mind if Cricket and I go down to the house?"

"Not at all," he replied with a grin. "Knock yourself out! Want me to, uhh, hang out up here?"

"You don't have to. Come down when you're ready, but could you grab the clothes and drinks and bring them with you when you're ready to get out?"

"Be glad to." Tim was ready to get out now and climbed from the pool as the women passed through the gate, delaying his collection duties to watch those beautiful asses swish their way down the hill. He paused again after picking up Cricket's pile of riding gear. Her riding breeches, sitting on the heat of the pool deck, felt as though they had just come from the dryer although the strong smell of horse and leather told a different story. Tim could see the light-blue fabric of her underwear still tucked inside where she had peeled both garments off in one push. With another look at the gate to ensure he was alone, Tim dropped the breeches and retrieved the threadbare panties for closer examination. They were common-sense, run of the mill underwear long on utility and short on sexiness, but he knew where they had been just a short time ago. This is some stupid shit, he told himself, you've seen what they were covering and the sooner you get your ass in gear the sooner you'll probably get to see it again. But he continued to examine them; they had been actually touching the young woman's pussy, pressed against by her saddle, and that made them somehow forbidden and therefore, more exciting.

They were warm like the breeches they had been in, but still damp from her ride. Tim looked again at the gate and reversed them to get a better look at the thin strip of fabric between the leg holes. This was wet rather than damp, and he wondered if that was all sweat, or something more. Tim impulsively brought them up to his face, not burying his nose in the fabric like Charlie had done with Gwen's, but still close enough to catch a strong whiff of feminine perspiration, different and more delicate than a man's, and something else, something definitely not horse but yet very recognizable that made his already-potent erection throb in response. He had gone for many years without catching a whiff of it, but the memories of his youth and the scent of the girls he had been with before Gwen had never been forgotten. His wife's musk, bitch in heat as Charlie had put it, was something he had happily gotten acquainted with now that she was much freer about giving him access to the spring it flowed from, and the panties in front of his nose held the aroma of something very familiar yet still different. No two women looked or smelled the same, he reminded himself, adding Cricket's scent to his mental catalog. His wife and the woman who had produced that intoxicating perfume were in his house right now, maybe even together on his bed. What the hell was he doing up here? He smiled at how this kink had distracted him from the one down the hill and finished collecting all that he could carry.

Tim hurried down the hallway and pulled up short at the open door. They were indeed stretched out on the bed in each other's arms, Gwen breaking their kiss to greet him. "Come and join us-we'll make room," she said, removing herself from Cricket's embrace and opening a spot between them. "Do you mind if I take care of Tim first?" she asked the young woman. "Watch and learn, right?"

"No, of course," Cricket politely replied as he gingerly eased himself into position, trying to avoid contact with her for fear it might be considered inappropriate. At least the mention of a learning experience sounded like permission for her to stay.

Gwen rolled to her side and gently inserted a knee between his closed thighs, sitting up and kneeling between them as he opened to give her room. She studied the erection before her, reaching out to delicately drag a fingernail from the bottom of Tim's slit down his length, lightly scratching across the loose skin of his sac. "I must have been pretty bad at this when I started," she mused, watching his cock jump in response to her touch, "touching it, I mean." She remembered Yvette's evaluation of her own early skills as uninspired grabbing and tugging and imagined her form could not have been any better, and her desire to be anything more than barely sufficient had definitely lacked. Her finger went back to circle the spongy head, spreading the liquid beginning to seep from it.

"You weren't bad, just inexperienced," Tim said, encouraging her on. In truth, for the longest time he had just been glad she touched it at all and was not about to complain about her dutiful and businesslike attitude as she prepared him for his once-a-week fuck. "Once you started getting some practice, though..."

Gwen smiled, spreading her index and middle finger to slide down either side of his cock. "I had a lot to learn...you men and your equipment are very different and very intimidating." Tim could sense her thoughts drifting, and assumed she was revisiting the old days. Wherever she was, he was relieved to see her again focus on the cock she was holding. His relief turned to disappointment and confusion as she smiled and abruptly let go, climbing out of her spot and kneeling beside him. She continued to study his length for a moment, then spoke. "Would you mind if Cricket tried for a little bit? I think she's ready for some practice."

His mind reeled, not believing what he had just heard, the sensible tone of her voice making it sound like the most normal request in the world. "Try? You mean..." he glanced down at his hard on. "It?"

"Just touching it a little, that's all. I thought it might be good for her to try that with someone she knew. Somebody understanding and patient."

Cricket sat by in open-mouthed shock. This was not the type of thing you practiced with someone you knew! Or maybe it was, she thought wildly, but not with the husband of your best friend!

Tim hesitated, looking to his wife then to the young woman and back for any sign this might be a joke or a trap, his cock urging he throw caution to the wind. "What do you want her to, uhh, do?"

"Just touch it," she repeated, "see that it doesn't bite, that it likes to be pet. C'mon," Gwen said, decision made, to the wide-eyed young woman across from her, patting the vacated spot between Tim's open legs, "you try it."

"Me? Are you sure? I mean," she squeaked softly, "he's your husband."

"Which means I know he'll be the perfect gentleman. I told you, someone very special. You get him ready for me and I'll take care of the rest. I know you like to watch the other riders, but at some point you have to put a foot in the stirrup."

"But what if I do it wrong? What if he doesn't like it, or I hurt it?" Cricket asked, her voice rising along with her panic as she stared at his engorged shaft.

"You won't, but he'll let you know if you do, won't you, Tim?" Gwen replied calmly.

"Uh yeah, sure, but you can't do it wrong." he lied, "you'll do fine, don't worry." He was beginning to feel a little self-conscious about the requirements of his own performance as he lay there between the two women while they debated who would be taking care of his straining cock.

Cricket bit her lip, her mind made up despite what common sense told her. "Okay, if you really mean it..." she climbed into the spot vacated by her friend, sitting a bit farther back from "it"—call it what it is, a penis, my best friend's husband's penis, she primly reminded-between his knees rather than his thighs. It was still close enough to get a very good look from a novel angle at the impressive thing right in front of her, a rock-hard length of male flesh atop loose flesh being stretched by the two boulders contained within. The young woman looked again to her friend for one last confirmation.

"Go ahead, give it a try. Just do what I do. Don't try and canter your first time up, just walk."

Cricket smiled nervously and steeled herself to the task. Breathing was forgotten as she bent forward and tentatively extended an index finger like Gwen had done, the tip hovering over the bottom of the bulbous pink head. She pressed down almost imperceptibly, gently tapping the velvety flesh so lightly Tim could barely feel it. The finger's owner did, or at least imagined she did, soft and hot to the touch; she pressed a little harder, feeling hardness below the sponge. Her finger began to very softly draw a line down his length, avoiding the slit and the moisture collecting in it to cross through the flat spot beneath, carefully keeping her fingertip flat to avoid any unfortunate scratching. The penis jumped in response and Cricket quickly withdrew in surprise.

"It's alright," Gwen offered softly, reassuringly stroking the young woman's back down to her buttocks. "You've seen it do that when I touch him, right?"

"Sorry, got a mind of its own," Tim offered.

"Oh-I knew that," Cricket muttered softly to both her instructors and gently resumed tracing a path down the hardness, over prominent veins down into the soft folds of skin covering his balls, feeling their own yielding hardness beneath, one moving under a very gentle and tentative prod. Her nervousness was still there, but it was now competing with the growing fascination with what she was touching. It was so male, hard and protruding and intimidating, not soft and squishy and vulnerable like herself...her finger reversed its course and came up more quickly, not avoiding the leaking tip this time, repeating Gwen's move of swirling the slick moisture about the top, sliding through the slippery liquid to spread it over the velvety helmet. The hand on her back was moving lower now, a finger sliding between her cheeks to gently stroke her rosebud. She froze a moment, distracted, then wiggled in welcome and returned her attention to the magnificent penis she was taming.

The young woman grew bolder, delicately wrapping her fingers around the middle of the shaft, afraid to squeeze any harder and cause the owner discomfort until Gwen assured her he could take it. The young woman gasped. "I can't believe how hot it is! And so hard!"

The older woman chuckled. "Lots of hot blood in there right now, and more always trying to get in. And hard is good, right? Remember how I start out squeezing gently and stroking up and down, then grip it harder the longer I go? Try that. Just make sure you've got lots of lubrication though, you don't want to rub him raw."

"I never thought about that," Cricket breathed, her hand freezing in place midway up his length. She looked up at Tim. "Is it slippery enough?"

"If your hand moves without sticking, it's slippery enough. I produce a lot of my own lube, but some guys need some extra out of a bottle, at least so I hear. Baby oil, that kind of thing." She nodded intently, as if hearing a mystery of the universe revealed.

Cricket gently pulled back on the cock in her fist, bringing it up away from his stomach as much as she dared. For some reason the sensation of the slick shaft transitioning to the mushroom head with a bump of her fist over the crown delighted her, and she savored the feel of each finger sliding down into the furrow below then popping up over the flare, each digit deliberately traveling over the little obstruction.

"He likes it when you play with his testicles while you do that," Gwen suggested softly.

"Is that alright?" the young woman asked. "I've seen you do it, but I was always told they're really sensitive and kicking a man there will stop them in their tracks. I don't want to hurt him."

"I'm glad you know all about that for self-defense and yeah, kicking me there will do that," Tim said with a chuckle, "so please don't unless you really think I deserve it. But you can hold 'em, if you want. They can take a little handling." She delicately cupped the orbs in her palm, gently lifting to feel their weight, watching the loose skin move to accommodate her.

"Wow! For some reason they're heavier than I thought they'd be!"

Tim laughed. "I never thought about 'em that way. Are they blue?"

"Blue?" Cricket asked in confusion, looking down to check regardless. Deep red, almost dark, but not blue.

"Blue balls. What guys call it when they haven't uhh, gone off in a while and the pressure builds up." About fourteen hours since that blowjob in the truck, he thought. I guess that's enough time to count as a while...

Cricket smiled at the idea that they had to be emptied regularly and continued to gently stroke as Tim's hips began to thrust back against her hand. "Am I doing it right?"

"You're doing great," Tim said with a strained grumble. You can go a little tighter if you want."

"Sometimes it's good to switch it up a little, try something different, too," Gwen suggested. "Maybe run a finger along the top. You've seen me do that, right?"

Cricket nodded, one finger delicately keeping Tim's cock levered away from his body, the index finger of the other hand starting in the wild tangle of coarse pubic hair at the base and traveling up to the tip. The finger stroking her asshole was moving too, into her very wet furrow in search of her clit. She spread her legs in response, no longer caring that her calves were firmly pressed against Tim's knees. She continued to explore the cock she held, always careful to return to stroking it, the more urgent thrusting of Tim's hips giving her hope she was not a complete screw up at this. Her own hips were now flexing in response to the insistent stroking of her button, their rotating syncing with the cock being pushed through her fist.

Gwen also noticed the rhythmic flexing of Cricket's hips in time to the strokes of Tim's cock. She looked on, conflicted with a mixture of lust, jealousy and doubt knowing that the young woman was subconsciously impaled upon what she held. The Lady suggested the strong possibility that Tim would prefer the touch of the younger woman; what then? He married you knowing you didn't fuck, the Slut growled back, no way he's going anywhere now that you do. And if he trusts you with her (and Natalie, and Liz, the Lady nastily added), then you better damn well trust him to still want you after. In her heart, Gwen knew she knew he would. And it WAS an incredibly erotic scene she was watching unfold before her, probably because it was so incredibly wrong...

She could see the signs of Tim's impending orgasm—the angry red of his cock head, his more labored breathing and that grunt with the completion of each stroke to his cock's base that signaled he was close. "I think he's almost ready. Right, Tim?"

Her husband's jaw was set, tightened muscles clearly visible. "Uh-huh. Oh, yeah."

Cricket reluctantly let go and began to move out of the way, regretting both for the loss of the finger on her clit and the control over this man's pleasure. "Guess you better take it from here..."

The hand still between her legs withdrew to press down on her back. "No, you've gone this far, you finish it," she said softly.

"Really? You mean like...let him finish?"

"Don't let him. Make him. Take control. Make him show you what he he's got for you. You do want him to show you, right?"

Cricket looked down and nodded, trying to make sense of the fact she was now expected to make this man lose control and explode like he had for Gwen those other times. She settled back into position, thankful the finger was already making its way back into her sex, knowing she very much wanted to make it happen.