Angela Seddon put her left hand under his chin and tilted his head so that so she was staring directly into his eyes. “Anything Gordon?” she said running the tip of her tongue around her lips and gently stroking the side of his face with the fingers of her right hand.
He felt too intimated to resist whatever it was she was about to suggest, but somehow not all bothered about having to do it as she released her the vice-like grip around his body and sat upright before pushing him gently away, swinging her legs round and slowly getting down off the table. “Lie back here Gordon” she said gesturing back at the furniture behind her so he did as instructed, partially out fear, but mainly out of a desire to find out what it was she’d also thought might be suitable recompense for his clumsiness.
Mrs Seddon pulled the cord from the loops on her robe and tied it to his right wrist before reaching under the table and tying the other end of the cord to his left wrist. Gordon didn’t speak as she stroked her finger nails down his stomach while whispering into his ear, “I’ve always been able to think of many things a man like you can do for me, or rather, many things I could do with a man like you.”
He didn’t move at all as he felt apprehension, fear, excitement and anticipation all at the same time, as Mrs Seddon opened a drawer by her sink and took out a roll of parcel tape, held it up and asked rhetorically “You don’t mind do you Gordon?” He shook his head: partly because he didn’t know what it was she was asking, partly because he finding the whole experience somewhat exciting, but mainly because he was well aware that it wasn’t going to make any difference. Angela Seddon may have been more than twice his age and less than half his body weight, but she was very obviously in charge and didn’t appear to have even the slightest inclination to allow the situation to change.
He stared up at the ceiling as he felt the tape wrap around one ankle binding it to a table leg, quickly followed by the other, before his view was obscured by a woman’s leg crossing his sight lines, an action which had barely registered by the time Mrs Seddon had lowered herself down onto his face. “Don’t worry Gordon,” she said trying to sound reassuring, “the table’s extremely well made. It’ll take our weight while we …um …. well you….learn to last a little longer.”
She leant forward down his chest and started to stroke her nails down his stomach, around his now-erect penis, and up and down the inside of his thighs while he licked, and sucked and kissed whatever part of her rubbed against, onto, and into his mouth.
She tugged, stroked, pulled and licked, while writhing around on top of him, moaning and sighing as he brought her to orgasm several times, but she kept him closer to the edge than he’d ever thought possible.
“I’m an expert Gordon,” she said repeatedly increasing his pain to grow to almost intolerable levels and then alternately relieving the pressure just before he could have an orgasm of his own, “and we don’t want you to ….um….disappoint me again now do we?”
He was dripping with sweat, his tongue and lips hurt, and he was drenched with what was cascading out of her, when she suddenly slid down his chest, pushed his penis inside her and juddered screaming to a halt as her orgasm rattled the table on the hard floor.
His own orgasm, just seconds later, was every bit as intense. Never before had he felt something which started in his lower back, travelled so rapidly through his body, and exploded with enough force to cause the legs of the table to once again vibrate noisily, only this time he thought he could hear the sound of tiles cracking.
Angela Seddon slowly got down from the table, unfastened the tape from Gordon’s ankles, and untied the cord from his wrists as he stared up at the ceiling and thought about the possibilities if he confessed what he knew about the broken ornament.
Mrs Seddon wrapped the robe back around her and fastened it with the cord that had been restraining him as he sat up very slowly, swung his legs over the edge of the table, stood up and decided to keep to himself that not only did his mother have twenty identical vases boxed up in her garage, he’d even been the one who’d brought the cheap crystal over a year ago as something to hold post-funeral flower arrangements.
Gordon Lister slowly dressed and apologized again for breaking the vase, adding that he was now also very sorry for the damage he’d caused the table legs to make on the floor tiles, and if there was anything, anything at all, he could do for her, by way of apology, all she had to do was think of something…