The Coffee TablebySupremeDuplicitee©
On any given Sunday morning you will find my wife and I driving around checking out yard sales. This past weekend, at our first stop, we actually found this simply perfect coffee table. I remember standing there looking at the this stupid table, discussing whether or not we should buy it. How dumb! It was big, sturdy, in great shape: everything you want in a coffee table. But, like fools, we thought we would find something better. We were wrong.
At first I thought my wife decided to look elsewhere because the lady was flirting with me. Or, maybe I was flirting with her, who knows? It was hot and I just wanted to get things over with, but she was one of those women that are approaching 40 and from the side or rear still looks 20. Incredible full breasts and an ass so fine I'd lick it on television. She was stunning. My wife hates these type of women. I don't exactly share this loathing. Either way, this succulent, raven haired vixen was in a lawn chair, wearing a half shirt - that truly validated her flat stomach - , and baggy shorts, sitting at the desired table. As I hunched down to really get a good look at the grain quality, this sexy creature with dollar signs in her eyes went off on a tangent about how the table had sentimental value to her and hubby. We listened politely and even feigned interest. But, as she spoke she tried to address both of us: wife was at one end of the table standing up and I was squatting directly in front of this sun-bronzed honey, she shifted her gaze, and body, back and forth. That is when I really felt the heat. Her demure, shapely, slightly akimbo legs soon were far enough apart to become pen pals. Luckily I had sunglasses on, because, I couldn't have not looked even if I wanted to.
My wife was giving the girl the archives on why we needed to replace our table -- and I smiled, nodded in the correct places, and admired the woman's skimpy panties. They reminded me of the sky-blue popsicles, Jake, the ice cream man used to sell in my neighborhood as a kid. I could see her "camel toe" and was absolutely entranced at this ladies obliviousness. She and my wife talked and talked, and I watched and stared. The sexy panties were french cut, hardly visible on the sides of her thighs, and really fucking tight. The more she shifted in her seat the more the panties violated her. At one moment I wanted to reach out and pull the thin material from her slit. A second later, tufts of black peeked at me, then a itty bitty section of her an outer lip. I was dying! I pretended to look here and there on the table, even rubbing with my hand, just to get a better view of that scanty flavorful cotton and forbidden flesh. It was the best part of my day, and I was able to play voyeur for about 20 solid minutes. But we never bought the damn table. We were going to go back at the end of the day to see if it was still there, but it was too hot, we went home and jumped into the pool instead. I ate my wife underwater while thinking of the yardsale goddess.
Monday, I thought I would check to see if the lady still had the table -- as a surprise for my wife. I pulled up to the house, and then after thinking about it a second, drove halfway down the street and parked. After a few seconds of preening and a breath lifesaver the size of a silver dollar, for confidence in close quarters, I walked to the house.
I heard a vacuum running when I stood on the porch, and waited for a lull -- then knocked quickly.
The same lady, wearing a very short feminine bathrobe, looked quite surprised when she opened the door. I could plainly see her through the screen. "Yes," she said, almost embarrassed to be seen by a strange man, but then recognized me apparently, because her face lit up -- embarrassing me.
"Eh ... I'm sorry to disturb you ... but I was wondering if you still had the table."
A car went by, and she pulled at the bottom of the robe and stepped back a bit. "Uh, no. We sold it."
I'm not sure if I said anything right away. I remember smiling and watching her keep tugging at the bottom of the robe, as if it would make it longer. And she would run her other hand through her gorgeous locks. I then told her I was sorry we didn't buy it. We seemed to be having a nice conversation, except when a car would go by. Noticing my confusion over her little ritual, she volunteered, "I don't want any of my neighbors seeing me like this."
The look I gave her was -- "But I'm a stranger and I see you!" I then noticed she wasn't overly bothered about it, as long as she kept on hand tugging. She then realized that I was seeing her, more of her than she wished, and tugged at the lapels as well. More tugging.
"We have another one that we've decided to sell next weekend. Would you like to see it?" She glanced around the neighborhood modestly, and pushed the screen toward me. "It is a bit bigger."
I grabbed the screen, and walked in the house. "Bigger is ok." She sidestepped me and pushed the wooden door closed.
"Don't want my neighbors peeking into see me with a good looking man in my home."
We both felt the awkwardness of her statement. She thought I was good looking? I smiled, and thanked her. Our eyes met and I felt a bolt of electricity surge through my veins. Her eyes seemed to dance, and they smiled, actually sparkling when she spoke.
"Forgive my dress, I was cleaning house, and it is so hot."
"But the robe is terry cloth."
She was walking backwards. "I ... I wasn't wearing anything." She tried to find the correct expression, when telling a strange man in her home that she was naked under a robe, but failed miserably. All I could do was smile, and then my eyes felt it appropriate to take a survey, from her red painted toes to her tousled hair. Breath taking. She grinned.
"This table is not as old --" BAM! She tripped over the vacuum cord, and hit the floor with her butt, hard. Unfortunately, she was not able to fall in a very dignified manner. For a split second she was on the floor and had her legs spread wide. She really was naked.
Immediately, she slammed them closed, pulled at the ridiculously short robe and tried to get up. I just stared. As she tried to stand she had to balance with her feet naturally and, she flashed me again.
Mortified, she stood up, turned her back and tried to apologize. "I can not believe I did that. I am so embarrassed." Slight pause. "Hmm .. the table is in this room. Do you still want to see it?"
"Yes. But only if you are comfortable with me here."
"I think I can trust you. I just showed you my pussy and you didn't jump me, for Christ's sake!"
I choked. "Um ... yes. I'm harmless. Just want the table." I was in unfamiliar territory. "Not that I wouldn't want to jump you -- NOT that I don't find you attractive. You are an incredibly beautiful woman."
She put out a hand to the wall and tried to walk; but her legs were not cooperating. "Why thank you." She then manged to get the signal to her legs and she started walking again, down the long hallway. "I haven't heard someone say that for a long time."
I tried to mask the incredulity from my voice. "Are you kidding me!?" She stopped walking, and even grabbed the wall again, but with the other hand.
"Oh shit!" She practically whispered, almost to herself.
"You are the sexiest woman I have seen in a very long time. Your husband has to be one of the luckiest men in the world --
"He's having an affair," she said almost matter of fact -- too matter of fact. "He doesn't see the things you do." The last word trailed off.
I was still walking slowly and then I was directly behind her. "You are stunning." I didn't want to say it, it just sort of happened. Just like my hand on her shoulder. It just happened too. "I mean it you are absolutely intoxicating."
I could feel her tremble, even through the thick robe. Pulling her hand off the wall she held it out in front of herself and opened and closed it a few times, and stared at the strange reflexive action. She then muttered, "Shit!" again, and then laid her hand over mine. I almost fell over, or felt like I was about to: I placed my other hand on her shoulder.
"I can't believe what I'm doing."
"What are you doing?" I asked softly as I turned her toward me.
She was gorgeous. Standing there in that powder-blue robe with her pouty red lips and magical eyes. Our eyes were unblinking and staring at each other's. "Here," she whispered in a very sexy inhale. "Here, in my own house trembling with the desire for a complete stranger to touch me."
"You want me to touch you?"
"Yes. Very much."
Tugging at her by her lapels I pulled her to me. Our lips met and the lightning I felt earlier began to repeat. My mind went completely blank. Al I could think about was this woman, this woman that I didn't even know her name.
Our tongues swirled around each others and I felt her moan in my mouth. Her hands then slid around my back and kneaded my shirt and skin, as if she were making a cake for her family. I released her tongue and traced the entire bottom of her top lip with the tip of my tongue. Sucking and biting softly on her cupid bow mouth, she started to explore my back and neck with her slender fingertips. Slipping my hands off her lapels I grazed her full breasts and worked my hands under the belt. With a slight pressure the belt gave way and the robe parted slightly.
My fingers just touched her smooth flesh on her waist and she felt like she was about to dissolve in my hands. I allowed my hands to freely roam over her sides, back and tummy, then up to her firm breasts. With her mouth once again on mine, I thumbed both nipples; they grew under my touch. Her breathing was shallow and I could almost hear our hearts beating as our kissing became more and more passionate.
Breaking our kiss I looked into her bewitching eyes once again, "Hold the wall," I said softly, as I dropped to my knees in a trail of kisses descending her lovely tanned body. Stopping just short of her sex.
Sitting on my knees I slid in closer and coaxed her legs farther apart. Cupping the backs of each thigh, I felt her quiver. Looking up, I saw that she had closed her eyes and was rolling her head slowly back and forth in lazy circles. Her hair hanging over her face. She was a vision like I had never seen.
"My God you are beautiful!"
Pushing on both walls with her outstretched hands, she moaned happily, but never opened her eyes.
Running my tongue from the inside of her right leg, just above the knee, I started to work my way to the delicious musky scent I was craving. Circling around her innermost thigh at the outside of her lips and working my way in a circle over her mons, I tugged softly at some of the fine hairs with my teeth. Breathing in deep, I could feel my palms starting to go from damp to slippery, as her scent almost toppled me. Burying my face in the folds where the leg ends and the delicate flesh begins, I slid my tongue over her like I was trying to bathe her. I could tell she hadn't showered that morning, and I was grateful. I loved her true scents. With one swipe of my tongue I lightly slid from the area between her ass and pussy, all the way to her clit, but only softly, and then sucked hard on her belly. She laughed nervously and breathed in deep.
Unable to forgo my pleasure, I gripped her ass like I was about to eat the world's largest strawberry, and bit, with my lips covering my teeth.
Her breathing became ragged and as my nose bumped her hard clit, I heard her gasp. Licking and sucking and breathing, I started to devour her. Her joy released itself and she shook as she screamed out in pleasure, sending a wonderful sweet drink into my wide open mouth. Then again and again, till she was gasping for air and moaning so loud I had to stop to watch her.
Her mouth was barely open, eyes pinched shut and her head was rock steady. A continuous moan filled the hallway and reverberated off the walls. Sliding my mouth back over her, I sucked softly on her entire sex, as my tongue pointed and trying to fuck her. I then increased the pressure on the sucking as one of my pinkies, drenched, found its way to her puckered rose bud. With little warning I slipped it inside her warm ass. Sucking on her all her warm wet creases and folds, probing with my tongue while I fucked her ass with my finger, she exploded. I thought I was going to gag -- she released this torrent that brought her to her tiptoes. It tasted as if I were drinking warm nectar from a newly discovered microwaved piece of fruit. Her hands slipped from the wall and squeezed my head. After she regained composure she stood up straight and let the robe fall to her feet.
"I want you to make love to me in my husband's favorite chair." She held out a shaky hand and led me to the living room.
Several hours passed as we made love -- fucked -- and toyed with each other. She would not let me cum inside her, she said her husband did that all the time. She wanted to feel like a real woman, her words, she wanted to feel truly alive. With a throaty Demi Moore whisper, she begged me to cum in her mouth. A first for her. But something she repeated as many times as I could replenish myself.
After we cleaned ourselves up and I was about to leave, she finally showed me the other table. After a short argument by me, she gave me the table. Then she truly shocked me. Standing there next to the stained lazy boy, amidst the walls of pictures of their wedding, and the two of them with their children.
"Tell your wife we may have matching end tables that we will give you as well." I smiled and thanked her. "But you'll have to come back tomorrow to help me find them."