"That's it!"
"That's what?"
"That's the bench. THE Bench"
I was hissing and gesticulating broader than a Scooby Doo cartoon towards a large wooden workbench in the backyard of a huge ranch house, where the Estate Sale of the century was being held. The people who lived here were Estate sale junkies themselves, They were also hoarders, which meant a bonanza of bargains for all us other Estate Sale Junkies, like me and Maddie. If you don't know, and I guess even if you do, an Estate sale is when a person passes away they place all the things they owned for sale often inside the home they lived-slash-died in, minus what the family wishes to keep. They're a voyeur's dream, and the savior of starving artists everywhere. But they can be creepy, as you are sifting though a dead person's stuff. But hey, death happens. The prices are rock bottom. You'll get over it.
"THE BENCH. How do you not know what the Smurf I'm talking about!?" I stage whispered. But Maddie wasn't interested in anything I had to say as she was uber-pissed off about losing a set of old surgical equipment to a rival artist. She was staring hot death at her rival and planning a revenge scheme so devastating the Red Wedding would look like a High School food fight.
I had no choice. I made sure no one was looking and pinched her tit.
"Ow! What the fuck Carson, why did you..."
I got behind her and turned her entire body towards the bench.
"Hunh? What..that looks....oh. OH."
She spun around towards me. Our eyes locked, and we knew instantly we were in complete agreement on the proper course of action. Maddie spoke first.
"I'll go to the front and claim it. You go sit on it. We can't lose it this time."
I kissed her hard on the lips like in a 1940's movie and sprinted to the workbench, and it was still for sale!
And price be damned, it will be ours. Oh yes, it will be ours.
This was the very workbench, or rather, fuckbench, that we had found at a previous estate sale. It had been built by a WW II veteran who had some intense ideas about sex, and expressed them with an all wooden contraption that had adjustable seats, handles, overhead handles and adjustable steps near the bottom that turned what seemed like a Ward Cleaver tool encrusted workbench, into a Larry Flint Fucking BDSM Platform. The Vet's journal had been hidden in a nearby pile of papers, which had told us how to operate the secret levers and handles. We used it, had the best sex of our lives, and then walked away. I had kept the journal, but we had to pass on the 1,500 dollar bench.
And we had regretted it every damn day since.
It was stained with a deep cherry finish, and looked like an average overbuilt wooden tool bench, with extra thick legs and table top, and a shelving section facing out. On first inspection, you would call it clumsy and graceless, although a fine example of 1950's Americana crafts. It was just scarred and worn enough to actually look better, and it's dulled edges only spoke of a thing well used, and never abused. Not in a million years had I ever expected to find it again. And here it was. And, miracle of miracles, Maddie had just cashed her biggest art paycheck ever and we had been wondering what to do with it. My hands caressed the smooth, softly grained wood of the...no, our fuck bench.
Maddie came back in five minutes with the news the bench was only 875, down from 1500. But it had to be gone by the end of the day. We called all of our theater friends until we we found one who would help us haul the big ass thing.. Theater people always have a truck or know of a truck they can borrow. In three hours, we had managed to squeeze the huge clunky thing into Maddie's studio. We had to move a few things out, but we got it done. We got the guys who helped us pizza and beer, and we sent them on their way. Because the entire time, we were just thinking about one thing.
The Bench.
As soon as she closed the door behind the last one to leave, she locked the door and turned towards me. We hadn't spoken a single word about the bench the entire time we were moving it. We didn't dare. A single word would have released a flood of feelings, of passion, of lust. And those would have to wait, until now. Maddie undid her dress and let it fall to the floor as she walked toward me and the Bench I took off my shirt and pants as she squirmed out of her panties and bra, and I watched her wide hips and 36D tits the entire time.
I reached over and pressed what looked like a knot hole, and the center seat slid open, carved in wood and shaped perfectly for an ass to sit in. The soft slither of the wood opening was like a starter's pistol. We lunged for each other. My hands swarmed over her curvy tits and ass. Our mouths smashed together heedlessly as her hands stroked my cock, which was already fully erect.