A few months ago, I decided to upgrade my six-player poker table. Our table was more than adequate for games up to six players, but the two-player games that Catherine and I played after the other players left necessitated the upgraded table.
We had a small group of guys who loved to play poker on Thursdays. We took turns hosting the card games, with our wives acting as servers during the game.
Six of us got together on poker nights to talk smack and try our luck at Texas Hold ‘em. We had a $100 buy-in and $1- $2 bets to keep the game friendly. The guys arrived by 8 o’clock, and we were done by midnight.
Catherine was our hostess and server. She showed off her assets in tight orange shorts and an equally tight tank top, her long blonde hair in a ponytail.
She made sure the big screens were tuned to the sport of the day, served beer and snacks, and commented hilariously on our poker-playing skills.
After the guys left for the evening, I put away the chips and cards and cleaned the table while Catherine cleared the snacks and empty beer bottles.
Watching my foxy wife’s derriere in those tiny orange shorts and her ample breasts testing the limits of her tank top gave me a raging hard-on.
I stood in the doorway, watching her in the kitchen, bent over and loading the dishwasher. She stood up, dried her hands on a kitchen towel, and turned to see me staring.
She smiled and hung up the towel, saying, “What are you staring at, pervert.”
“I’m hungry for a little bite-sized blonde snack like you.”
“Do you want a shake to go with that?” she asked, turning around and shaking her rear end at me.
I bolted for her, planning to throw her on the counter and do her right there.
She sprinted away, saying, “If you can catch me, you can have me!”
She ran giggling through the bedroom with me hot on her heels. She was fast and small, running through the bathroom and out the door to the deck. I thought I’d cut her off at the other door, so I cut to the right.
She doubled back, snuck in behind me, laughing insanely, and ran the other way back through the bedroom. This time, I ran through the living room and tackled her as she ran back into the kitchen.
“Gotcha!”
Running her down like a wolf pursuing his next meal was wildly exciting; I overpowered her and captured her solely to satisfy my carnal desires. I was going to eat her like a snack and then some. My throbbing tool was hard as steel.
Catherine’s attempted escape and ultimate capture exhilarated her, igniting an inferno of desire deep inside her. She trembled with anticipation, wondering what I would do now that I had her.
I pinned her down on the floor and tickled her as she struggled to get away, squealing with delight,
“Eeeee! Greg!” she giggled hilariously.
“Your ass is mine now, Catherine.”
I scooped her up, struggling and laughing, and sat in a kitchen chair.
“Greg!” she said as I put her over my knee and landed a few playful swats on her ass. Her shorts were so thin and tight it was as if I were spanking her bare butt.
“If I catch you, I can have you; that’s what you said.”
“Yes, sir.”
I landed a few more swats.
“Your ass is mine.”
“What are you gonna do about it, sir? Spank me. Go ahead, do it!”
“Be careful what you wish for, you sassy brat.”
Catherine would indeed get spanked, just not how she thought.
I threw her over my shoulder, carried her to the den, and sat her on the poker table.
The den serves as our home office, poker room, and home dungeon. Its heavy wood furniture includes a desk and chairs, a poker table, and a loveseat.
Nothing screams home dungeon, but each piece has served us well in our bondage and discipline sessions.
The spacious walk-in closet holds our stocks, a St. Andrew’s cross, and various implements, restraints, and devices.
“Arms up,” I said. Catherine reached for the ceiling. I peeled off her tank top and rubbed her neck and shoulders until I felt the stiffness melt away.
“Mmm, that’s so good, sir.”
I kissed the back of her neck and reached around to caress her tremendous breasts, pinching and twisting her erect nipples, teasing them until they were long and thick.
“Ooooo, Greg. You’re making me crazy.”
The dark, wet spot on the crotch of her bright orange shorts was a testament to her lustful, horny state.
Catherine squirmed considerably during our sessions, and I didn’t want her to fall off the table. I retrieved some restraints from the closet, collared her, cuffed her wrists, and placed a belt around her waist, clipping the collar, cuffs, and belt to the table.
Her legs were akimbo, her knees spread wide, and the wet spot on her tight shorts was growing in size to saturate her entire crotch. She could move around somewhat, but not very much.
Catherine looked up at me with her big blue eyes. I watched her chest rise and fall with every breath. Her beautiful breasts deserved special attention. I selected a few items from the closet and laid them on the table.
Catherine’s nipples were engorged and very sensitive. Her breath hitched when she saw me light a big red candle and set it aside. The melted wax slowly collected in a pool on top of the candle.
“Oh, Gregory.”
I placed a sucker on each nipple, the vacuum action engorging them even more.
“Ooooo, that’s nice.”
Using a crop with a small cat o’ nine tails on the end, I trailed the tails across the skin of her chest and belly, using it to whip her firm, full breasts. I whipped them harder, increasing the intensity of the blows, flogging them with all the fury the small cat could bring.
“Oh, yeah. Whip my boobs, sir.”
“I think you need something more.”
I put down the cat and picked up a thin cane. I flogged her boobs brutally, leaving red stripes all over them.
”How do you like the cane, slut?”
“The pain, sir. It’s a lot!”
I put down the rod and released the nipple suckers, the blood rushing to her nipples, making them extra sensitive. I tugged at each one and set the suckers aside.
She struggled against the restraints when she saw me reach for the candle, saying, “No, Master, not wax. Please, sir. I’ll do anything. I’ll blow you, sir. You can throat fuck me. Just please, no wax.”
“You will fucking blow me anyway, Catherine. And I’ll fuck your throat at my leisure. I’m going to drizzle hot wax on your tits, and you’re going to thank me.”
I held the candle above her chest and tipped it slightly, a drizzle of hot melted wax dripping directly onto her sensitive nipple.
“Ooooo, fuck! That’s hot! Thank you, sir!”
I drizzled hot wax across her chest from one nipple to the other, observing her reaction.
“Oh, ouch! Thank you, sir.”
“Good girl, Catherine.”
She was certainly feeling the heat; she was struggling to accept the pain.
With both nipples covered in wax, I drizzled a trail straight down to her belly button and filled it with red wax.
“Ooooo, fuck, that hurts!”
“What did you say, slut?”
“Thank you, sir!”
I walked around to stand between her legs and set the candle down. I hooked my fingers through the soaking-wet crotch of her shorts, rubbing her slit with my knuckles.
She lifted her ass, and I pulled the wet shorts off. She rubbed my bulge with her foot. I opened my pants and removed them, leaving my tight boxers to tease her.
“Ooooo, what a nice bulge. Does it make you hard to test me, sir? To watch me squirm?”
She put her feet behind my ass and pulled herself to the edge of the table, the limit of her restraints. I slipped three fingers into her wet pussy and pulled them out to smear her clit with juice, strumming it furiously until she was near the edge.
I bent down to suck her love button. Pushing the tip of my tongue under her hood to dance with her stiff clit. Her engorged clit extended out from under its hood, and I tickled it with the tip of my tongue.
I slid two fingers inside her to rub her G-spot, rubbing her clit with my thumb.
Catherine was losing her mind, making the little mewling happy sounds she makes when she’s close to orgasm. I stood up and reached for the still-lit candle.
Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth fell open when she saw what I was about to do.
The wax had cooled to form a thin layer of red on her nipples, and the cool wax looked like a red ruby in her belly button.
I raised the candle above her pubic mound and tipped it to the side, moving my thumb but leaving my fingers inside her. Catherine jumped as the hot red wax coated her sensitive clit.
“Oh, that’s hot, sir!”
I blew out the candle and set it down.
I added another finger to stir her creamy honeypot. The pain from the hot wax seemed to feed her desire.
Catherine still had her legs around me, trying to pull me closer. She was going off the rails with lust, struggling against her restraints, trying to pull me closer.
“Fuck me, sir. Fuck me. Fuck me,” she babbled.
Her hips were jumping off the table with a mind of their own, desperately trying to hump anything, even the air.
“Oh fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me!”
I pulled down my boxers so she could watch me stroke myself inches from her slobbering hole. The wax had cooled, and I reached between her legs to tease her some more.
She spread herself wide and humped my fingers as I slowly peeled the wax off her throbbing clit.
“Oh, God damn! Please fuck me! Fuck me! I’m begging for your cock, sir! Please, please fuck me!”
Her struggling and cussing had me rock hard. I stood at the edge of the table and held her legs up in the air, stuffing her pussy with cock. I slammed my cock deep inside and flooded her with cum, which triggered her orgasm, and that’s when the table tipped over.
Catherine exploded in orgasm as she fell, and I instinctively grabbed her to stop her tipping. Instead, I tumbled over with her, cock still lodged deep inside, and landed on the floor.
Catherine landed on top of me, still strapped to the table on top of her. I stood and lifted the table, putting it back on its feet with Catherine still attached.
We looked at each other; I could see she was OK. She said, “Wow, that was some orgasm.”
I quickly unstrapped her and lifted her off the table, hugging her with all my might. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and gave me a deep kiss as I carried her to bed.
That was back in October. I ordered the new table the next day.
END
