A New Way of Seeing Things Ch. 12

"Huh. What do you think about that?"

I guess it sorta makes sense, I mean I understand the whole feeling good part. I don't get how Adam can be OK with it, though. She's having sex with somebody that's not her husband! Wouldn't you be mad with me if I did that?"

"Hard to say...depends on the circumstances, I guess."

Her silence and measured breathing told him she was beginning to slip into an alcohol-aided slumber. Gwen didn't remember him pulling the blankets over her. "Sleep well, I love you," he whispered, and kissed her forehead, doing his best to ignore the erection swinging between his legs as he climbed in next to her.

A knock on the door the next morning sent Tim scrambling for a pair of shorts. Gwen was startled awake by the noise, instinctively pulling the covers about her body to hide her nightgown. The realization she was not wearing it arrived at the same time her head exploded in pain. She lay deathly still, hoping whoever was at the door wouldn't see what was under the covers while she prayed the throbbing between her temples would stop.

Through the covers pulled over her head she heard the voice of a young man. "Your daughter sent this up with her compliments."

"Thank you," Tim replied hurriedly, "and thank KD, for us, please." There was silence followed by a murmured "thank you," and then the door gently closed.

"The card says your daughter thought you might need some things this morning," Tim said. "Looks like she sent up some coffee, bottled water, toast, aspirin...speaking of which, I'm guessing you're having your first-ever hangover?"

"I'm dying," she croaked from underneath the pile of blankets. "This is horrible. Never again." Even the sound of her voice made her head pulse angrily.

"Welcome to the club," Tim laughed softly. "At least you didn't throw up last night."

Gwen wanted to tell him that it was not yet out of the question, but to speak would only make the drumming in her head worse. Presently she heard the sound of a cup being placed on the nightstand next to her head. "Try and drink some water and take some aspirin. I've left coffee for you, but it might be a little early for that. Sleep as long as you want. I'm going to stop by the desk and thank KD in person, then go down and read by the pool. I know how important a quiet room can be to recovery, so relax, and call my cell if you need anything. Love you." A hand softly pushed against the covers over her hip, and a short time later, the door opened, then closed.

Despite his advice, it still took Gwen a half hour to muster the strength and courage to sit up long enough to down the two bottles of water on the stand while gulping down the aspirin. Coffee was out of the question, and she gingerly laid her head back down, falling asleep despite the pounding in her head.

She awoke some time later, feeling better. Not great, but better. Gwen slowly raised herself to a sitting position, carefully gauging her head's reaction to the change in elevation, before standing up. She briefly thought about grabbing her robe from the closet, but decided it was too far to go just yet. Gingerly she made her way to the cart at the end of the bed where more water, toast and a carafe of coffee sat.

Numbly she poured herself a cup of the black liquid and sat on the edge of the bed. Although the liquor had dulled her memory of the previous evening, her confession was clear enough in her head. "He must be furious," Gwen moaned, although her fogged recollection had not recalled that he had been. She wanted to call Natalie, to ask her advice on how to make this up to the man she loved more than anything in the world, but knew her sister-in-law could not tell her anything she didn't already know. Her next conversation should be with her husband.

A knock on the door was quickly followed by the call of "housekeeping" and the sound of a card being dragged through the electronic lock. Gwen froze, her mind unable to decide how to avoid spilling the coffee while running for cover. "Please wait—I'm not decent!" she managed to croak out softly enough to avoid aggravating her head.

The young housekeeper never heard the please and pushed the door open. Looking up, she saw a naked woman standing at the end of the bed, a cup of coffee in her hands and a look of shock on her face. "Sorry, sorry," she cried softly, averting her eyes and quickly retreating. The door closed, and Gwen was left standing there, frozen in place.

Her headache and nausea flared with the rush of adrenaline, and she dressed as quickly as her pained body would allow. Her accidental exposure to a complete stranger was absent from her thoughts as she dialed Tim's cell number. Gwen's only focus was how to make things right with her husband.

"Hey, you're up!" Tim answered cheerfully. "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah, I guess...Tim, can we talk?"

"Uh oh, what'd I do wrong?"

"Not you, me. Or us, I don't know. About last night. Can you come back to the room?"

"Most everyone ties one on at some point in their lives, Gwen, it's no big deal—"

"It's not about that, well not really. Can you come back up please?"

"Sure, be right there."

Gwen heard the sound of the key being swiped a few moments later, and fervently hoped it was not the maid returning. She was both relieved and anxious when Tim stepped through the door and took a seat on the bed next to her. "Honey, what's wrong?"

Gwen could only look at the floor as she began. "I, uhh, said some things last night that I shouldn't have, things that I had no right to burden you with..."

"I've found liquor makes people far better at telling the truth than making up lies," he said with a smile. "You didn't say anything I would consider a burden."

"Tim, when you asked me to marry you, I told you Miss Ritter made me have sex with her. I lied about that then, both to you and myself. And now I've told the truth to both of us, and I'm not sure that was the best thing. Aren't you mad at me?"

Her husband kissed her on the forehead. "Not at all. I would much rather you tell me the truth. In fact, that's probably the first thing other than Christmas gifts and vet bills that I know you've kept from me. Anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

Gwen smiled at his breezy attitude despite her physical and mental woes. "No, nothing that I can think of right now. But I told you I had sex with a woman and liked it. I feel like I was cheating on you, with another woman no less!"

"You married me, not her. Would you rather have spent your life with Miss Ritter?"

"No! I love you! She was just...she made me feel good...and I felt like I couldn't be blamed for feeling good. I had to do what she said. It just felt...different, forbidden...with her, like I was pulling one over on the world. And once you asked me to marry you, I knew I had straighten up and be a good wife and mother. I had been told plenty of times that the type of man who would want to marry me would not want a perverted slut."

Tim said nothing for a long time, and Gwen feared she had angered him. "Well," he finally began, "it sounds like Natalie and Adam have had a similar issue in the past, and still do. Maybe I should ask him how they resolved it?" Gwen's eyes widened, and Tim grinned to allay her concern. "Or did you tell me something you promised you'd keep secret?"

"No, she said I could tell you, since you're the last one in our house to not know."

It's was Tim's turn to look surprised. "Is that so? Learn something new every day. So, it sounds like they're at peace with the whole girl-girl thing."

"I guess, yeah, although I still can't see how. I mean, how would you feel if I was doing—that--with another woman?" Gwen asked rhetorically.

Tim smiled, but said nothing. "Cross that bridge if and when we get to it," he finally said quietly and smiled. "Hey, you know what you need? You need some sun and fresh air. Get that bikini on, and let's go for a walk on the beach."

Gwen smiled and kissed the incredible man sitting next to her, then made her way to the bathroom where her suit still hung from the shower rod. They spent much of the afternoon walking hand in hand, not saying much, pausing only for a quick lunch. The couple returned to the hotel a couple of hours before dinner so Gwen could nap and sleep off the last traces of the previous night's excesses.

Tim and Gwen showered and dressed, then drove the short distance to KD's apartment. They climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on the battered door sporting 218, the '2' hanging upside down for lack of another nail to hold it upright. The same woman who had checked them in Thursday evening answered.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, come in! Your daughter's just got home from work and is getting ready. I'm Alia, KD's roommate—well one of them."

The couple stepped through the door into a living room featuring ratty lawn furniture, empty pizza boxes and scattered bottles of liquor. "Sorry, about the mess," Alia offered, but with six of us living here, and all of us working overtime at the resort, we don't spend much time cleaning."

"Hi folks!" KD called out cheerfully as she exited a nearby bedroom wearing a dress that Gwen would have made her go back in and change if she had still been at home. The hem lay dangerously close to the junction of her thighs, while the neckline highlighted her daughter's ample breasts and the valley they created. "I see you've met Alia—she and I share a bedroom along with another hotel employee."

"It's certainly a cozy little place," Tim offered generously.

"Yeah, the resort owns it and the other buildings on this street to house college-break workers like us. Really cheap, and very convenient."

"Three to a bedroom!" Gwen exclaimed. "They must be good-sized rooms."

"Not really," KD allowed, "but we all fit."

"Can I see your room?"

Her daughter hesitated. "Uhh, it's pretty messy in there..."

"Don't worry, I promise not to start cleaning."

KD could tell that her mother would not be dissuaded. "Sure, let me show you."

Gwen stepped into a room strewn with open boxes and clothing, a pair of what appeared to be men's underwear draped over a lampshade, while a double bed and two bunk beds filled most of the floorspace. "Which bed is yours?" Her mother looked about the room, shocked that her daughter could live in these conditions, resisting the urge to start picking things up despite her promise. She could make out an open box of condoms lying amidst the debris atop a battered dresser, while a white electrical cord snaked up from beside the double bed and into the unmistakable handle of a vibrator which lay behind a pillow. Gwen thought back to Natalie's tales of college life. Her own daughter, living the same lifestyle? "So, which bed is yours?" she asked, the Lady hoping for anything but the double.

"We just, uhh, take whatever's open when we come home," KD offered. 'The double usually goes first, then the bottom bunk. At least one of us usually has a late or overnight shift, so the top doesn't get used much. Well, we should get moving if we want to make our reservation," her daughter suggested, anxious to avoid any further scrutiny of her living conditions.

The Trellis was every bit as good as KD had promised. Gwen stuck with seltzer for the evening, a fact not lost on her smiling daughter. "Mom, something about you is different," her daughter finally said after Tim had gotten up to use the restroom.

"Different?"

"Yeah, the bikini you were wearing yesterday, the martinis last night, and you didn't even say a word about how messy my apartment was. I don't mean to pry, but what's up?"

Gwen blushed. "Let's just say you're very perceptive, and that I'm beginning to think I was a little too strict with myself for a long time, which wasn't fair to you girls or your father, so I'm trying to be a little more relaxed. Speaking of the bikini, tell me the truth--was it too much? I've only worn it a few times. I can only guess that most daughters don't want their mother trying to look, well, you know, like that."

"You looked great in it, Mom! It's just I've never seen you wear anything that revealing! Even your underwear, the few times I've ever seen you in it, was not like that! Grandma must be pitching a fit!"

"Grandma doesn't know, and doesn't need to," Gwen replied drily.

KD laughed. "Your secret's safe with me. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, but she can be a bit of a prude, y'know? Just glad you're letting up a bit on yourself."

Gwen smiled and nodded, Tim's return cutting the conversation short. The family spent another hour talking before they dropped KD off at her apartment with a promise to see her before they left the next morning.

"I imagine you must be pretty worn out after all you went through last night and this morning," Tim said as they entered their room. The question was more investigative than sympathetic—between Gwen's confession and the sights of the pool, his libido was in overdrive and the situation was not conducive to him taking matters into his own hands, so to speak. Perhaps she had enough left to satisfy his needs...

"I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. I slept late and that nap really helped." She wrapped her arms round her husband's neck. "But if you're thinking about getting me drunk again, forget it."

Tim smiled as his arms went about her waist. "I didn't get you drunk, the pomegranate martinis did. I like the idea, though. I can only imagine what I might find out about you this time."

Gwen's eyes popped open, a serious look behind them. "You don't have to get me drunk. I'll tell you anything you want to know without that. Just promise me you won't leave me when you hear the answers."

"I'm not going anywhere. Bank on that."

"I'm going to. So, do you have something you want to ask me?"

"Uh-huh. Wanna go to bed?"

"Uh-huh. I'll meet you there." Gwen broke their clinch and retreated to the bathroom while Tim sent his clothes flying before sliding under the sheets and turning off the light. The bathroom door opened and the light was turned out, plunging the room into near-total darkness.

"Tim?"

"Yes?"

"Could you turn a light on?"

"Of course." He quickly rolled to his side and snapped the table lamp on. Rolling back, he sucked his breath in and stared at amazement. Gwen stood at the end of the bed, dressed in the garters and bra Natalie had helped her select. "Oh my God, Gwen, you're beautiful! How did you get that into the bathroom to change into it?" Tim started to climb out from beneath the covers to go to her, but she began to crawl across the bed towards him first.

"I didn't. I had it on at dinner."

"You did? If I had known that, it would have driven me crazy!"

"That's why I didn't tell you." She lay down beside him.

"I didn't even know you had anything like this."

"Natalie and I went shopping..."

"I really need to get her a gift."

Gwen lay herself down next to her husband. "I'd like to give you a gift."

"Me? What for?"

"For not kicking me out of the house and out of your life. I have to believe not every man's wife cheated on him with another woman."

"Sounds like at least one other couple we know is OK with it. And I don't see it as cheating."

"Still, I'd like to do something nice for you."

"Already did. That outfit is going to be stuck in my mind for weeks."

Gwen smiled. "Not when you're working with a propane torch, I hope. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

You don't have to do anything, but..."

"But what?"

"I'd really like to kiss you down there."

She lay there for a moment, and Tim feared he had pushed too far too fast. "Alright," she finally answered, and rolled on to her back.

Tim sat up, quickly reaching for her underwear before she changed her mind. Gwen began to work on the clasps to her stockings as soon as the panties had been pulled past her thighs, but the man now between her legs stopped her. "Leave 'em on. You look so sexy in 'em."

Gwen lay back and held her breath as Tim gently lifted each knee and pushed them out, slowly bending down to where her thighs joined her hips. She could feel his breath rustle the abundant patch of hair covering her sex, followed by a tentative kiss on the folds surrounding her clitoris. Tim flattened his body against the bed as his tongue found her opening, slowly dragging up her furrow.

Her husband worked carefully, pushing labial lips aside to bathe all the areas of skin he had never been allowed access to before, only occasionally circling and flicking the nub at the top of her slit.

It all felt so familiar to Gwen, and yet, so different. She had never considered Miss Ritter "tender", and she remembered her oral ministrations as more practiced, more precise, using her tongue with the same attention to detail as her riding. It was if she knew exactly what Gwen wanted and when. Tim, on the other hand, was more rough, more unpredictable, more masculine. She found the contrast in techniques exciting, arousing. Even the feel of her husband's stubble against the tender skin of her inner thighs held its own thrill.

His hands eventually found their way to her bra-covered breasts, pulling the fabric down until her turgid nipples were free for him to smooth and caress. Gwen looked down at the salt-and-pepper covered head busy between her legs, and the muscular back and butt that stretched beyond it between her spread legs. The feel, the view, and the memories all combined to bring her ever closer to her climax. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, unaware her hands were now tightly gripping the back of Tim's head, forcing him deeper into her sex. Gwen panted, dim memories of Miss Ritter's admonishments after she had cried out during several of her orally-induced orgasms so long ago preventing her from voicing the soft wail building in her.

A pass of his tongue over her clit sent her over the edge, her thighs squeezed against his ears while her hands pulled him so tightly against her that his tongue was trapped and his breath stopped while she shuddered against the waves pulsing through her. Energy spent, her muscles released from their collective clench. Tim's head was released from between her thighs, and he crawled up to lightly lay on her limp body, Gwen recognizing the wetness on his lips and cheeks as her own. She kissed him weakly while she recovered.

"Well, that was good for me," she finally breathed, "but I still owe you one in return. How would you like to finish?"

Tim smiled and stood up beside the bed, erection swinging and bobbing as he moved. Still smiling, he turned off the bedside light. In the darkness, he could see his dim shape move towards the sliding glass door. The curtain was pushed back, the room brightening despite the night skies and dark water beyond, and the door was pushed aside. Tim stepped out on to the balcony and turned back to her. "Come on out and join me."

"Are you crazy?" she hissed. "Someone will see us!"

"I don't think so," he said in that cocky tone she knew meant he was very sure of his answer, and was most likely right.

Gwen hesitated, really wanting to coax him back to the safety of the room where he could take her properly and without fear of discovery. The Slut pushed her shoulder. Go ahead, live a little.

Reluctantly she stood, hurriedly popping her breasts back into her bra as some meager form of cover, and went to her husband. She brought herself in front of him, hoping he would act as a shield for her upper body while the fabric-draped railing would hide her exposed sex. Strong hands landed on her shoulders as their lips touched and forced her down until she was kneeling, the tip of his engorged staff an angry red even in the low light. Consciously she knew that anybody looking up from the beach would see a man leaning with his back to the railing, the naked woman at his feet mostly hidden by the partially enclosed balcony. Subconsciously, she thrilled at the wickedness of it all. She was going to take her husband in her mouth, let him finish there if he wanted, in plain sight of anyone who might care to look.