3 comments/ 45511 views/ 0 favorites Table Top By: east76th In the middle... "Get up on the table," ordered my wife. Stifling a sigh and a protest - I knew it would prove useless - I complied. In the beginning... I drink, sometimes a lot. Not a big deal, I don't drive drunk and I only booze it up on weekends, so it's never been a problem. In fact, my wife is usually keeping right up with me. Last weekend, the two of us hosted a party celebrating our anniversary. About 20 or so people turned up, about the amount of friends you'd expect a couple in their late 30s to have. The wine - and tequila, rum, vodka and scotch - were flowing like a river in flood, and I was feeling no pain. About 11 pm, so I'm told, is when I had my first flaming Dr. Pepper. For those who don't know, as opposed to those of us who cannot say no, a flaming Dr. Pepper is a drink that involves 151 proof Bacardi rum and fire, dropped into a beer. I usually leave the shots that require coordination to the younger crowd, but for some reason, I was feeling my oats. Ten hours later, my arch enemy, daylight, attacked from the east bay window as I awoke with my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth as if I'd brushed with peanut butter. My head felt swollen, my hands shook and if I could have carved my stomach from my body, I'd glady have done so. I took in my surroundings. They were familiar, yet unusual. My wife and I live in a semi-sprawling ranch-style home, meaning there's only one level. That always worked out well, because no matter how inebriated my wife, guests or myself become, there's always someone to make sure that everybody gets to a bedroom. But lying in my empty living room looking down at my Florsheim clad feet resting on a sofa cushion, I knew something unusual must have happened. Unfortunately, I was right. "Cocksucker!" Seeing as how my wife and I usually stuck with traditional favorites like "Good morning," I sensed trouble. Standing above me Wearing her thin, emerald-green kimono-style bathrobe, my wife elaborated. "Motherfucking cocksucker!" Intrigued, I reached up with one hand and unstuck my left eyelid, which improved my focus, if not my outlook, considerably. One of the reasons I married my wife 17 years ago is that she looks even better in the morning that she does at night. And if you don't think that's rare, you haven't spent enough time in dim bars with heavily made-up women. She's slight, about 5-3, 105 pounds, with brown hair, tiny breasts and - still - the roundest most heartbreakingly beautiful ass I've ever come across, on or in. In the light of this fine morning, she looked gorgeous, but pissed. So very pissed. It took me three tries to find my voice, but once I did, it was like I'd never lost it. "And a good cocksucker to you, baby," I rasped, easily making a bad situation worse. "How are you today." "Oh, I'm fine. But then again, I'm not the one with an unsightly bite mark on my left asscheek." I felt my ass through my wool slacks, confused. All felt normal. "Cocksucker!" She was regressing. "Not your ass, Kay's." I blanched, or I think I blanched. Having no mirror, it was tough to tell. "Kay's?" "Kay's," she confirmed. I didn't really want to know, but with all signs pointing in that direction - south, I guess, would be the direction - I felt I had little choice. I felt trapped. I felt the flaming Dr. Peppers rising. "Me?" "You," she confirmed. In the middle.... "Smack!" I grunted in pain and surprise as my already reddened ass blushed further. I guess I didn't quite stifle the sigh or the protest. "Get your sorry ass face down on that table right now or pack a fucking bag," she hissed. Chilled by the weather and my "new" wife, I complied as best I could. She'd worked me over pretty well earlier, so my 39-year-old body was somewhat slow to respond. But respond it did, as per orders, I draped my sorry ass face down on the rough surface of the redwood picnic table in our thankfully high-fenced backyard. Being naked, I was ill-prepared for the 60-degree night air. My wife walked to the front of the table and grasped my wrists. The boots, which added at least four inches, clicked loudly on the cement with each purposeful step. Yanking with all her strength, she pulled me forward. I stifled a scream as my balls and cock rode up with me until I was centered on the table, my genitalia actually resting in the hole normally reserved for the table umbrella. Sarah must have removed it earlier. As she ducked under the table, I caught a glimpse of divine cleavage fashioned by the push-up bra she wore beneath a half-buttoned white dress shirt. She caught me and barked out a sardonic laugh. "You can look all you want, Paul, but you're sure as hell not touching." Touching, however, was exactly what she was doing. I felt her cold hand grasp my confused cock and raw balls. She pulled down, not quite roughly, and I felt something tickling behind my scrotum. The sensation snaked around and around my balls, over the the base of my cock several times, and stopped. A heartbeat later, I entered a world of pain. I tried to swallow my scream as a noose - because that's the only way to describe it,a noose - was pulled tight, dividing my cock and balls from my body and drawing them down. "Unnnnnnngggghhh!" I whimpered softly in pain as she tugged lightly, working hard beneath the table. Through eyes blurred with anguish, I watched her stand up and survey me calmly. Her tone was even. Amused, maybe, or possibly uninterested. "Don't be such a baby," she said. "How bad can it be. It's only a little pain. Christ, no wonder men don't have kids." I bit my tongue. It seemed no time to take a misogynistic stance. I was having enough troubles with prone. She smoothed her long skirt down and sat next to me on the table. Trailing the back of her smooth nails down my thighs, she caressed the hair that fluttered in the gentle breeze. I concentrated on the smell of her nearby thighs, pushing away the pain. All wisecracks and jokes were gone from my mind as I strained to hear her soft voice. She laid out my situation in short, no-nonsense sentences. "I put the cinder blocks from the tarp we use to cover the barbecue under the table. Your cock and balls are tied to them. You're hands are free. Your legs are free. But you're going nowhere." I could hear here trying to contain her anger. "You hurt me, Paul, now I'm going to hurt you... badly." That's when I knew I was fucked. Fucked so hard, I was torn and bleeding. Back to the beginning... To be continued. I figured I'd wait and see if there's any positive feedback. If you'd like more, or just want to beg me to stop writing altogether, let me know. Table Top Love It starts, after I get off work, with a phone call. "Are you naked?" I ask. This is our typical way of answering the phone to each other. Although it has brought some interesting looks if someone is close enough to over-hear the conversation there is no one in the car with me. "Nooooo." is the response. Oh well one can always hope! There is something wonderful by being greeted naked by the door. But is not meant to be this time. "Where are you?" she asks. "I will be there in a few minutes." "Good. There is a fresh pot of coffee on." There is always a fresh pot on, but alas most of it goes to waste. I spend the rest of the trip thinking about what is to come; the most passionate, sexual experience you can have with a woman. While Michelle and I are both older and our bodies carry the scars of life on them, I enjoy looking at her body more then any other and I have never touched a more responsive body then hers. She reacts to every little touch in such a sensual way that just thinking about it will give me an erection. As is it now! I finish the drive and park and lock the car. (Bandits, you know.) I walk into the house and into the kitchen. The smell of coffee permeates the house. Michelle is standing in the kitchen and upon seeing me, smiles and comes to me and embraces me. "Hi, how was your day?" she asks. "Just wonderful" I reply. My mind is not on my work right now. The electricity of this embrace is something to behold! As we start kissing, my hands are roaming over the clothing on her back. I slip my hand under her top and by the sharp intake of breath when my hand touches bare skin I know that she is in seventh heaven. With a practiced move I unhook her bra with one hand, and begin to touch her back without the annoyance of the 'railroad tracks' in the way. I pull the shirt up to the shoulders and run my hand up and down her back and sides. "I love how your touch feels." she says. I continue to hold, kiss and touch her as I guide us to the wall. There is a slight height difference between us, so I lean against the wall and slide my feet away from the wall. This puts our full clothed genitals in direct alignment. Michelle presses against me and while franticly kissing me and we continue to press into each other. My hands start on her hips then moving under the waistband and panties on to her buttocks. This always sends her over the edge and today is no different. Our breath becomes heavy and the intensity of our contact increases. Michelle begins to hump my clothed penis harder and harder. Her breathing is rapid and her face is starting to register the first signs of a climax. As she cums I pull back a bit and end the contact. "Wow"." is the only comment. My feet are now numb from the odd angle that they have been in for a time so I straighten up. We proceed to the kitchen and pour our selves a cup of coffee. While Michelle tries to put sugar and cream in her coffee I come up from behind and press my still hard erection into her bottom and reach around and cup those wonderful breasts of hers. This of course makes it difficult to concentrate on fixing her coffee so I pull away and let her finish. We take sips and talk as we walk into the dinning room. I pull out the chair on the side of the table while Michelle sits at the head of the table. We continue to talk while staring into each others eyes. The love that we feel for each other is quite apparent. As is the lust. Our bodies react to each other like I have never known before. We instinctively know how to please the other and the anticipation is overwhelming. We reach out with a free hand and hold hands. As our fingers move over each others hands I watch her face for the reaction that I know is coming. Her breathing deepens and quickens, she is unable to sit still and she starts to move around in her seat. The coffee and conversation is soon forgotten as she stands and moves over to me. I slide the chair sideways and reach for her. Michelle leans in and placing her hands on the top of the chair begins to kiss me. As my hands roam over her back I move her top up freeing her breasts. She straightens up and as I take a nipple in my mouth and begin to move my tongue over it, the reaction is immediate. Breath quickens, body begins to lean into any part of mine that it can, and the ecstatic sounds of excitement flow from her lips. I spend some time on one nipple then move to the other, hands roaming over both breasts. This alone will cause her to climax and amidst the sounds of passion it is soon accomplished. The encounter as brought me to height of excitement and Michelle is always up for more. My hands continue to explore her body. Sides, tummy, hips become the next areas of attention. Slow movements, just barely dipping below the panties line, now moving further up, now dipping down again. Hands on hips and lower back then around front again. We are both more than ready for what comes next. I undo the button on the top of her pants and then the zipper. Once again the sharp intake of breath is heard. My hands slide from the middle of her abdomen to her hips, under her panties. Upon reaching her hips my hands grasp both pants and panties and begin to lower them. As they clear the hips the first view of neatly groomed pubic hair becomes visible. I lean in and begin to kiss just above this area and continue to pull the clothing lower. Michelle is standing with legs together and wiggles to help me lower her pants. When her clothing is mid-thigh I pause in their removal and with hands on her bottom begin to kiss her abdomen, hips, breasts and thighs. We are both to the point of no return and this lasts a short time. My hands then begin at the top of her pubic triangle and lightly touch around it. I work around the inside of her thigh where it meets the abdomen. I trace around the edge of her very expectant vulva, careful not to touch the lips. This slow approach causes extreme excitement and once again the sounds of passion are heard. This excites me to no end as I continue my exploration of her body. Lightly dragging the back of hand and fingernails through her pubic hair and then again the pads of the fingers. Each pass comes closer to the opening of her vulva. I then cup my hand over her vagina and press the palm down hard. This sends her into fits of ecstasy. I start at the bottom of the opening and run my finger through the entrance to her vulva. My finger is soon soaked with her love juice and I continue up to her clit. The first touch sends ripples of electricity through her body. I continue to worry it and then begin to enter her vagina with my fingers. The anticipation is building and I thrust my middle finger in fully with my palm pressing hard into her. Michelle is bucking against my hand and moaning loudly. "Ohhhhhhhh, yes, yes yeesssss". I have always loved the moans and this sends me over the edge. I remove my shirt. I reach up and remove her top and bra, then step back and Michelle fumbles with my belt and top button. There is a visible wet spot on my jeans where my precum has soaked in. She unzips me and gently pulls my pants and underwear over my erect penis. We are both standing there with our pants half way down and we remove our own shoes and then our pants. Michelle always removes her socks and on this occasion I do also. We are both standing naked and drinking in each others body with our eyes. If you have never had someone look at you and want you so bad it hurts you are missing out in life! As I previously stated we are older and to others not much to look at but to each other there is none better! I reach out and cup her breast as she gently and lovingly cups my penis and scrotum with both hands. It is easy to see the want in her eyes and I move the chair out of the way. I help her to sit on the top of the table. She can feel the cold wood on her bottom but it does not bother her. (Actually I don't think she notices.) She spreads her legs apart and brings her feet to rest on the edge of the table. I stand between her thighs with my hips just barely touching her. I place my hands on her knees and begin to run them over her thighs, while enjoying the view of her body and the look on her face. She has a dreamy look to her as she anticipates my entering her. She does not have to wait long. I grab her hips and move her to the very edge of the table. She holds her legs up giving me an unobstructed path to her vulva. I grasp the shaft of my penis and rub the head against the vulva opening and against her clit. Once again the moaning starts and it drives me nuts! I place the head of my penis against her opening and thrust deep inside her. The table creaks as she matches my thrusts. I watch her face in it's throes of ecstasy and listen to the sounds of that ecstasy. The position we are in affords me a perfect view of her vulva as my penis slips in and out. It is a wonderful sight to see the physical point where two lovers join together. My shaft glistening with her juices as it disappears and reappears. The pace quickens as so does the breathing and moaning. As we near climax she starts to yell "Now, ohhhhh, yess, yess, now." This is my clue that the end is near and I climax deep inside her as we have a simultaneous climax. I stay inside her and look into her loving eyes. Her eyes are brimmed with tears and she simply states "I love you." It is written all over her face so the words are just an affirmation of that love. As I pull out of her the sight of both of our genitals cover in our juices and the look on her face is welcome sign of our love which is both physical and emotional. Who said that the young have all the fun?