Sex Patents

byWriter_Biker©

1) She invented 101 ways of sex

She was an inventor with many patents, an overactive imagination, a lover with high energy and an irreverent view of life. The ideas she used on me she could not patent, they were all X rated, she invented new ways to make me cum, new machines to milk me, new methods to play with me. She had ideas you could never dream of, even if you think you have seen and done it all. She was an artist, a teacher, an inventor, and a lover. She was a fellatrix and a dominatrix. She promised to make me climax in a new way every week but she lied, she used several variations on each one so that no two nights were ever the same. I have been with her for eight months and she is ahead of schedule, this story will take many chapters. Relax, you will learn new ways to enjoy, I just hope you will try some of her inventions and ideas yourself.

I had been going to the same restaurant for breakfast every morning for months in a very small Northern California town, my task there was to take over a large construction project that had stalled and get it back on track. I had just turned 60, and my divorce had recently become final. I wanted to work in a new part of the country to get a fresh start in many ways. The company gave me a nice apartment, but it did not feel too much like home, I felt like I was just camping out, besides, it was a long drive down back roads to the project, so I felt like a stranger to my apartment. I did not feel like cooking and I simply ate out three times a day. Breakfast was always in the small local café where I could sit down and read the morning paper over several cups of coffee. The owner had learned what I liked and when I drove in the parking lot, my coffee was waiting along with a morning paper. They would pack me a brown bag lunch or they would deliver a working lunch to the site if the engineers had a crisis and we went into 24 hour work mode. Thursday morning I was just about to tip and leave when I found myself in the middle of a conversation at the register.

Amy, the owner was talking to her mother. Sharon was a small, older lady who helped out as a hostess on busy mornings. Sharon often sat down to chat with me as she made the rounds refilling coffee cups, she was one of the reasons it was my favorite restaurant, her smile and cheerful conversation helped me start the day. I really missed her on days she did not show.

"I don't know how we can find anyone to help" Amy said. "It's hard to get people to take a day off to help you move, especially on short notice. I can't imagine where you could rent a truck on short notice like this."

Sharon replied "But I have to get moved or I lose the sale of my home."

"What is this? It sounds like you are having a crisis." I asked, stepping up to the cash register.

"I am having a crisis," Sharon replied, "I sold my house after years on the market, and for full price, but if I can't give the buyer possession by tomorrow, I might lose the sale. I still have some heavy furniture to move and no help."

"You should be able to find a few strong backs in this town," I replied. "How much do you have to move?"

"It's not too many items, they are just large. Amy and I have been moving the small items for two weeks now. I had a moving crew scheduled for this morning, but they just called and canceled. They got a better paying haul and they are off doing that job instead. Now I have only a few hours to find some help, or I lose a lot of money on the sale of my house and I end up owning it as well as the new one I bought. I can't afford two homes."

Sharon was a very small lady with a high energy level. She had light blond hair that I would bet was mostly grey if the truth were known. She looked about 55 years old. Amy was probably in her late 30's, so maybe 55-60 would be closer; it was hard for me to tell. Amy was about the same height as her mother, but she weighed even less, Amy was very tiny and very shapely figure, everything was in proportion. Sharon was dressed in blue jeans which went in at the waist, then out a little over the hips, then tapered down nicely to her feet. She had on jogging shoes that looked like a kid's shoe; I guessed she would have a hard time buying any of her clothing in the adult department. Her blouse was definitely not sized for a fully developed woman; it was baggy at the waist, long in the sleeves but tight across her breasts. It was proportioned for a young girl, not a woman. Still, the effect was nice. I admired her contours as we spoke. I wanted to ask her how much she weighed and how tall she was, I was guessing only about 90 pounds and under 5 feet, but I was not going to get myself in trouble by asking just yet. Petite is the best way to describe them both.

I was the opposite. I am 6' 3" tall, slender (180 pounds) and in great condition for a man of 60. I have a full huge white beard and handlebar mustache which is my trade mark. I was asked to play Santa Clause, but it took a lot of padding to make my slender frame look the part, and bald headed Santa's are not in great demand. My "HO, HO, HO" needs a lot of work, I tend to speak softly. Working in construction kept me fit, as a manager I still worked in the field as often as I could. A few hours on the job site is better than many hours in the gym. I think bosses should drive heavy equipment, shovel dirt, finish concrete, and hammer nails from time to time. I also suffer from an overdeveloped "Rescuing Fair Maidens" complex.

"I might be able to help, I have access to a truck or two and if need be, and I can borrow a few men from the project for a few hours."

With that exchange, my life took a definite turn into the fast lane. My sex life was about to become turbo-charged.

2) Thursday, Moving Day

I climbed into my pickup and followed Sharon to her house. It was a huge house in a fine neighborhood. Gorgeous lawns and gardens made it a real landmark, but the upkeep for a single lady had to be overwhelming. It must have been one of the best homes in the town when it was new, and it was still an imposing house. The two-story home had about 4,500 square feet, it was located on the crest of a hill overlooking the valley, a circle driveway gave the impression of an estate. It had a large back yard complete with pool and fruit trees. I guessed that even in the rural Northern California market it was a $2,500,000 home. During the day as we worked I got most of her life story. Sharon had been widowed for about eight years and was downsizing. Her husband, Robert, was the local banker. Before he died he had bought the restaurant to give Amy, their daughter, a start on her own. Sharon had her own business; she was an inventor, with several patents and several more in process. That explained the many tools, parts and materials in the three car garage. The housing market was very soft for high end homes in Northern California, especially those located off the beaten path; it had taken her three years to sell. When she finally did get an offer, it was for full price, but the family wanted to move in immediately so their children could start school the following week.

I looked around the house, making a mental inventory of what was left to move, there were several very large pieces of furniture and they would not be easy to manage. I called the job site and "borrowed" a large truck and three men to help. We had finished one phase of our construction project the week before. While we waited for the heavy dirt moving to be completed so we could start the next phase, I had most of the workers doing clean up and fix up work which they hated anyway, the project would not suffer if I stole someone for a few hours.

Within a few hours, Sharon and I had moved most of the smaller items into my pickup and we had made several trips to her new home with chairs, tables, boxes and smaller items. She explained the reason the new house was attractive to her was the large garage and workshop where she could continue her tinkering, as well as a huge master bedroom. Moving the workshop was a major task, there was a huge collection of parts and pieces. She obviously was a real inventor and mechanic. She had more power tools than I had in my construction yard. Even more interesting was all the strange parts and pieces to different devises she was tinkering on.

"Do you have any stray human body parts to hook up to any of these devices during a lightning storm?" I asked after moving several strange looking parts.

She laughed easily and even explained what a few of the parts were. She had some interesting prototypes under way, I wondered if she was trying to solve problems that don't exist, but that is her choice. Several trips with the pickup and my SUV moved the rest of the garage and workshop. I enjoyed the way she sat close to me on the pickup seat; I guess she was encouraging me to keep up the hard work.

Amy arrived as soon as the breakfast rush was over and she pitched in as well. It took the two of them to lift what I was able to move with ease. Finally what was left in the home was for people with bigger muscles and younger bodies than mine.

The truck pulled in and three of my workers set to loading up the truck with the rest of the furniture. The bedroom set was the biggest single item. The master bed was made with large timbers and it was massive. It had four corner posts that were large tree trunks, nicely finished; they went all the way to the ceiling. The bed frame did not sit against the wall; it sat out in the room so that you could walk all the way around it Sharon explained that she had made it herself, and it had some special features. She did not elaborate. There was a matching table in the dining room, it was made from huge timbers with tree trunks as legs which extended up to the ceiling through the corners of the table, it looked like a centerpiece of a medieval movie set. In the family room was an entertainment center and bookcase that looked like it could hold dozens of TV's and thousands of books. If King Arthur had a TV center and library in his castle, this is what it would look like. Both the table and the entertainment center looked too large and too heavily built to be real. They were beautiful, wood that large and that perfect was very scarce. It was a real work of art. Maybe that is what they were, not furniture but rather art that was used. It was an indoor forest of polished and varnished trees.

Amy left about 11:30, returning to the restaurant for the noon rush, if that is what they call it when five people show up to eat in a small town. About 1:30 she arrived back with sandwiches for all. Her timing was great, we had just finished loading up the truck for the last time and had made the final tour of the house to make sure we had everything out. We had a picnic on the yard before heading to the new location. Extra help arrived from the restaurant and they set to work cleaning the old house for the new owners.

Sharon disappeared for a short time to sign the closing documents. When she reappeared at the new house she was waving a deposit slip for a very large sum of money. We had everything unloaded, and were trying to make some order out of the madness of stacks of boxes, random furniture and a floor littered with large trees.

"The bedroom set has some features that you won't find in most bedroom sets," Sharon told me. "It took me a long time to find a smaller home with a big enough bedroom to hold it. I finally found one with a bedroom/sitting room combination, but there will be no sitting room after the bed is set up." We were looking at the pieces of the bed. It looked like a jig-saw puzzle laying in stacks and pieces on the floor.

The timbers that made up the dining room table and the entertainment center covered the floor in the living room and den area. She sent the men to assemble the bookcases and table while she and I started to reassemble the bed. I had to call my helpers in and with their help we sat the four corner posts up and began attaching the side rails. Each rail was the size of a railroad tie, highly polished and finished wood. The posts at the foot of the bed were even larger; they were tree trunks, over 15 inches across and scraping the ceiling in height. They had holes drilled and dowels inserted to provide hooks to hang cloths and decorations on. It took several hours, but the room started to take shape. It was about 5:00 when I sent the men home, they had finished their projects, but the house was still a maze of boxes and furniture. It would be a huge project to make order out of the chaos. Amy went back to the restaurant to get ready for the evening business.

Sharon was a delightful person to work with, she made it fun to unpack and set up furniture. We found ourselves laughing and chatting as we worked. I learned about her life and her dreams. She was an accomplished carpenter as well as being a mechanic. She and her younger sister had been raised in Iowa where her father was the local blacksmith, repairman for all things mechanical, and the local mad inventor. I recognized several of the items she named that the family owned the patent rights to. One of the items was an improved automatic milking machine for large dairy farms. They had a small dairy herd which she and her father milked twice a day. Being both an inventor and somewhat lazy, he simplified the operation and sold the equipment to other dairy farms. Soon it was in use all over the American Mid-West. Parts of milking machines were still in various stages of assembly in her shop.

She opened a bottle of wine and we relaxed for a few minutes. She grilled me about my divorce and what I had been doing since I moved here. I confessed to having no girl friends, I had just disappeared into my work. She asked me how my sex life was and I had to admit to her that it was nonexistent. She teased me about my abstinence, and I got back at her by pointing out that she should have invited all of her boyfriends to help her move. She admitted that if her boy friends had all come to help she would still be sitting in the old house, crying. Her sex life had died, along with her husband. She started to explain that she had not wanted it that way, it just worked out that way, and then she got flustered.

3) The bedroom, Thursday afternoon

We finished setting up the bed and made it up with a bright red spread, the bed was huge and it filled the room. We both bounced on the bed a couple of times to test it for strength. She was making a game out of it, teasing me on the bed. She asked me to help her unpack several of the heavier boxes. She had me set one large box on the edge of the bed, and then she leaned in to help me unpack it. She laid a hand on my leg as I opened the box, I jumped, but then I relaxed and put my hand on top of hers. My response to her hand seemed to relax her; she leaned against me and watched me carefully as I looked inside the box. It was filled with handcuffs, black leather restraints, blind folds, ball gags, leather vests with straps on them like a hospital restraining suit, and various vibrating and sucking toys. Several items were not identifiable. I paused for a moment to take it all in.

"No wonder the bed is made so strong, it needs to be with these toys." It was all I could think of to say. "I am beginning to understand why you had to build a custom bed to hold all of this. You said it had some special features. Could you tell me about some of those features? I bet they have something to do with these."

It must have been the right reply, she leaned over, picked out a pair of handcuffs attached to a length of rope and said; "These are supposed to be a one-size fits all, I wonder if that is true. They fit Robert, my husband, but I have never had the opportunity to try them on someone else. Hold out your hand a moment."

I was motionless as she slipped a single handcuff around my wrist and clicked it shut. She slipped her arm around me and hugged me as she put a cuff on the other wrist. They had been separated into two separate cuffs, the chain that held them together as a pair had been cut off and in its place each cuff had a length of rope attached to a quick release clip on the end.

"They do fit; they are just your size. I had wondered how I was going to pay you for your kindness in helping me move. I think I now know how I can repay you for your efforts." She had a broad grin on her face as she thought about the possibilities. She gave my knee a squeeze with one hand, her other arm was around my shoulder.

"This may take a while, dear. I have to unpack another box to find the key to release you, so you will have to be patient. I hope you did not have anything else planned this evening. Why not just lay across the bed and we will see if everything fits?" She pulled one arm near a corner of the bed and clipped the end of the rope to a hidden loop, well out of reach of my hands when I was strapped down on the bed. She pulled the other hand and clipped the rope on the other side of the bed. She then sat down, straddling my waist and leaned over to begin kissing me. I enjoyed the feeling for a few minutes, kissing her back, wishing I could hug her, but my hands were tightly secured.

"I like the way you are rewarding me, your kisses are very nice, I will promise to unpack even more boxes for a few more kisses. If you will let me loose, I would love to give you a hug."

"Just relax and enjoy the attention. You have worked hard today, so I want to reward you by helping you relax, relax and enjoy." She was sitting with her legs straddling me at my waist; she was leaning forward, stroking my neck and holding my face as she kissed me.

I felt her other hand reach down and begin playing with my penis through my trousers. She was gently gripping my penis and holding it through the cloth. She fumbled for a moment, and then she unzipped my pants. I felt her hand holding my penis through my underwear. She finally found the opening and pulled my penis out, it was already hard and standing at attention. All the while she continued kissing me on my lips, face and neck.

I had been silent, trying to sort it out. "Maybe we should unpack the keys to the handcuffs, just in case. I should take a shower if we are going to do anything other than simply see if the handcuffs fit." I was suddenly aware that I was dirty, hot, sweaty and I smelled very bad.

"That's what I wanted to hear; just seeing if they fit is not all that I had in mind. I hope you are not in a hurry for dinner tonight. It may be delayed a little while." With that she pulled out a pair of leg cuffs.

"The ropes attached to each cuff go to a hook in the bottom of the bed frame; soft rope works better than chain, the post does not get scratched. I will release the handcuffs, but only until you get out of the shower, then everything will be ready for you." It was apparent that the arm and leg cuffs would secure me in a very tight "spread-eagle position, and I would not be able to free myself at all. Did I trust her that much?

"Why me and not you?' I asked. "I could play with you on the bed as well."

"It's my treat tonight, here and back at the restaurant when we have dinner later tonight. But I may not be too hungry, I expect to eat well right here, as soon as you get out of the shower. Towels are in the bathroom." With that she pulled me close and gave me a kiss, hard on the lips. We lingered a while, hugging and kissing.

She unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my shirt before she guided me towards the bathroom. I dropped my pants on the floor as I stepped into the bathroom. She had already unpacked and set up the bathroom. I found a bar of scented soap and washed while the hot water ran over me. I was tired, moving was a lot of work for someone my age, but the evening looked like it was going to be worth it. As I rinsed, she stepped into the bathroom. She had only a bra and panties on; she dropped those as she pulled the shower door open and stepped in with me.

Report Story

byWriter_Biker© 10 comments/ 191593 views/ 31 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

Next
5 Pages:123

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel