There Is A Naked Man At The Table

I was wearing one of my favorite oversized shirts. It is at least 6 sizes too big for me - that's why I love it. It reaches down to my knees and I have to roll the cuffs about 5 times to expose my forearms. It is one of 3 that I own. Tonight I'm wearing the white one but I'm not wearing pants or a bra. I didn't go to work today so I put a bit more time in on the preparations for my lover's visit. There are fresh sheets on the bed and a candle burning on the bedside table. My house is more tidy than usual - I'm not much of a housekeeper. But this evening it is actually presentable. I would say that even my ex-husband would have approved. One of the reasons that he is now the ex is that the house was usually slightly less than tidy - which was a failing of mine. One of the other reasons that he is the ex now is that nothing like what was happening to me now had ever happened to me before - which was a failing of his.

I rarely think about my ex-husband as I prepare for my lover's visits. So the shift from putting the vacuum cleaner in the hall closet to getting the restraints out of the bedroom closet was as startling as a crystal vase crashing to the floor.

Dinner is going to be a large salad. I pinche the spinach leaves off right at the stems and wash them. They are drying in the colander. The grape tomatoes, cucumber, purple onion, sun-dried tomatoes and artichoke hearts are already in the bowl. I decide to add the spinach and prosciutto ham right before we ate.

I try to make time before all of his visits for special hygiene. I wash my hair and really scrub my skin with the loofah. I shave my legs and underarms as usual. But I take special care as I shave my pussy. I've been clean-shaven for about 8 months. Even after all that time, he will still caress my pussy as he had that first time. I shave very thoroughly before each of his visits. I use a clean-smelling lotion on my skin. But for my pussy I use Jojoba oil with no added perfumes.

As I wait the last few moments for his arrival I sit in front of the stereo and decide which CDs to play. Gypsy Kings? No. Enya? No. Imogene Heap? Yes. Then the stereo will play all the subsequent CDs as background for whatever noise we ended up making.

I am sitting there when he knocks on the door. He will wait there until I open the door. Several months back, he'd knocked and I'd yelled "come in" and he hadn't. I thought is was a bit silly, but he had informed me that he liked it when I welcomed him into my home.

He towers over me. He is 6'4", so towering comes naturally to him. But me especially as I'm only 5'2". To look him in the eye I have to stand on my couch. So I do this. I can rest my head on his shoulder and kiss his neck. Then I blow gently in his ear. He trembles slightly every time I do this. We hold each other for a moment. I have my arms up under his jacket and I feel his heat. I'm still just a bit chilled from my shower so the heat feels glorious. It will be even more glorious when the embrace is skin on skin.

I ask him if he is hungry. In his deep baritone he replies that yes he most certainly is hungry and that he also wouldn't mind a little something to eat. I think he says these things to embarrass me. He squeezes me more tightly and swings me off the couch. He slides me down his body. I feel his erection against me. As I stand on my feet, his erection presses against my stomach. I notice for the first time that he is wearing jeans. He has a habit of going commando under his jeans. I learned of this habit on the same evening that he learned that I'd shaved my pussy for the first time. That particular evening had been full of delicious discoveries.

He asks if he can take a quick shower to rinse the day off. I get him fresh towels. He uses a particular kind of soap that smells of peppermint. I had intended to leave him to it. I had intended to finish the salad. But I could not help but peek. He says that he is in pretty good shape for an old man. He will be 50 soon. His goatee does have some gray in it, but other than that he could pass for 10 years younger. He does not have rock-hard abs. He doesn't have broad muscular shoulders. But yes, he is in pretty good shape. And I love watching the water on his skin. He also sings well. At the moment it is something from Gilbert and Sullivan. Then he glides into something from Sinatra. I hand him a towel after he turns the water off.

I ask him if he wants to lie on the bed and cuddle. He says that as he is still a bit damp, he'd prefer to air dry for a bit. I go finish the salad. He finishes toweling off and comes to the table. I offer him a beer. I'd stocked up on Negra Modelo - at one point he had mentioned that he preferred Mexican beer. I filled his plate with fresh salad and crusty bread. Normally I'm only this servile in bed.

It seems that strange things happen when you eat a meal with a naked man. As I sit down, he passes the salad dressing bottle to me. He says that it needs to be given a vigorous shake. I must have looked puzzled for a moment. He explains that I need to unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt and give the bottle a vigorous shake. I look down at my plate for a moment. Slowly I do as he asks. I can feel his eyes on me, watching my breasts sway slightly. I also feel my nipples harden. I look up at him as I hand the salad dressing back to him. He doesn't take his eyes off my breasts as he accepts the bottle.

After a few moments of eating in silence, all I can think of to ask about is the work he's been doing on his property. He mentions that he had mowed the back yard, behind the barn, along the driveway, along the road frontage, then moved into the field. He had then grubbed out a number of small trees, digging down below grade and then chopping through their roots to the point where the whole thing could be wrenched out with a heave. It is at that moment that I notice the scratches on his arms. I can focus on nothing else after that. I squirm in my seat for five more minutes before I stand behind him to touch his skin. I gently run my finger tips across his scratches. I watch as he visibly relaxes at my touch.

I touch him with my hands. I touch him with my lips. I use my hair to caress his skin. I kiss his neck. I massage his scalp and gently pull at his hair. I massage his temples as I rub my breasts against his back. I know that dinner will soon be over when he clenches his fists and takes a deep shuddering breath. He allows me to torment him for a few more minutes.

I feel my own heat pooling. He reaches across his body to grab my left hand with his right. He shifts in his chair and pulls me towards him until I am standing between his parted legs. He is hard. He puts his hands on my shoulder and presses me down. I am kneeling in front of him.

He asks me if I am wet. I tell him that I am. He says to show him. I know what he wants. He has asked for this before. I could not give it then. At that time, he had put his clothes back on, held me, but did not fuck me. This time, it is no easier to think about. It is no easier to do. I want to please him. I am kneeling in front of him trembling with shame. He knows that this is difficult for me. He even knows why this is difficult for me. He gently tips my head back so that I am looking at him. He sees that I have tears in my eyes and he brushes them away with his thumb.

He makes his demand again.

As I move the silk material of my panties to the side, he does not break eye contact. As I insert two fingers into my pussy, I do not break eye contact - although another tear escapes from the corner of my eye. As I feel my own fingers become coated with my own lubricant, he wipes the tear off my cheek. As I reach forward to smear my intimacy on his lips and moustache, he growls deeply and closes his eyes - breaking eye contact.

Finally released from that connection, I crumple on the floor to hide my face and my shame. He comes to me and covers me with his body. Breathing softly into my ear he says thank you over and over. It is like the beating of my heart, a steady rhythm.

He helps me to stand and pilots me to the bed. I stumble because I'm still trembling with shame. He lies down on top of me and kisses me deeply. Under he weight I stop trembling. He caresses me and I press my hips against him to feel his erection. I wrap my arms around his neck and snuggle into his embrace feeling both wrung out and electrified.

He grabs both of my wrists from around his neck and holds me down. He insinuates himself between my legs so that I am wide open for him. He looks down at me with an almost animal look of hunger. Very slowly he bends down and with a shockingly quick movement he rips off one of the buttons from my shirt. An equally quick orgasm rocks me. He chuckles low and deep. He rips the next button off and spits it on the floor. Slowly, and too quickly, five buttons are dispatched. I quake and cum each time. He takes one side of my shirt in his teeth and exposes my right breast. With a growl, he latches onto my nipple and sucks hard. I cry out in pain and orgasm. I feel his teeth on my nipple and wonder what my blood will look like on my white shirt. He just holds my nipple between his teeth and sucks in cold air. I notice that he is breathing deeply as if he needs to collect himself.

He releases my wrists and I claw at his back. He exposes my other breast. He begins to suck on the left nipple while he uses his fingers to pinch and twist my right. He moves one of his legs so that his knee presses against my pussy. I rub myself against him as hard as I can. I scream as I cum. I keep screaming because my orgasm seems endless.

He holds me to him as my orgasm lashes me. He is growling my name. Eventually I calm.

He rolls over and I am resting on top of him. He tells me to catch my breath because now he is going to fuck me.