Tinkering in the shop

I have a woodworking shop that has an entrance off of our garage and has a garage door entrance that leads to the circular driveway. I like to spend some of my free time building wooden furniture, cabinets, toys and other things. Sometimes, because of the time I spend out there, my beautiful wife accuses me of keeping a mistress in my shop.

I had started a project to create an intricate cabinet with a large amount of routing work and delicate shaping. I had started with some very good work and had worked it into the sizes, shapes and quality I was looking to use for the project. I had spend several hours over several days mitering the wood into some very specific sizes. I had dry assembled the main part of the cabinet several times, each time finding some small imperfection that needed to be sanded or reshaped.

I had been working steadily most of Saturday morning so I took a break and walked over to the small refrigerator in my shop looking for some Gatorade. I realized I was out so I walked through the garage into the kitchen and opened the fridge. My wife walked in dressed in her Saturday best, a pair of jean shorts and tee-shirt with sandals.

“How much longer are you going to be out there?” she asked accusingly.

“I don’t know. I’m close to being ready to start putting it together and want to try and get as much done today as possible,” I said rather absently. “Besides, you were going to go yard sale-ing with your girlfriends.”

I grabbed a drink and a handful of chips and walked back to my shop. I took a long drink as I watched Diane walk out and get into her car. I got back to work on the small cabinets that would eventually hold the treasures of my friends young daughter.

I had begun to assemble the cabinet and had lost all track of time. I had to sand a small piece of wood where I had cut the slot for the hinges and had turned my back to the door facing the garage. I was intent on carefully sanding the small piece that would become the left side of the cabinet when I suddenly got the feeling I was missing something. I took a quick glance over my shoulder and saw Diane pulling back into the garage.

“What’d you get?” I asked, not really caring about her yard sale treasures that would soon be donated to some Charity.

“Look,” She exclaimed excitedly. “I found this beautiful hat and dress.”

She stood in the doorway between the garage and the shop holding up a dress that looked like it was from the Forty’s and a large brimmed hat that had feathers and the old-fashioned black net.

“Ooooooo, isn’t that beautiful!” I said sarcastically. “When would you EVER wear a dress like THAT?”

She hesitated a little, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t know.” She paused. “I just liked it and thought I might wear it out on day,” she sighed rather sadly.

“Aw, It’s really pretty. I didn’t mean to make fun of your dress. Why don’t you go try it on and see how it looks.” I was desperate and looking for a save.

I really don’t want to get my wife upset and pouting. She’s gorgeous with a drop-dead body that makes my buddies jealous. More than one has hit on her when they thought she was vulnerable or a little under the influence.

Diane twirled around with a smile on her face and headed off to try on her ‘treasure’. I got back to work assembling the cabinet, running a small bead of wood glue down the edges and grabbed my nail gun carefully joining two pieces together, then nailing them together. I grabbed the piece of wood for the other side and began applying the glue.

I looked up to again grab my nail gun and noticed my wife standing back in the doorway. She had the 40’s era dress on as well as the hat with the net pulled down over her face. Her auburn hair flowed over the wide collar of the dress and her face was sort of obscured by the net and the dress hid her beautiful body, but accentuated her delicious shape. The dress hugged her sexy curves and just the calves of her legs were visible below the dress.

“What do you think?” she asked as she walked out of the doorway into the shop towards the garage door opening.

There was something sensual about the dress and the way she walked definitely screamed sexy. She continued to walk around the shop, making a full circuit before stopping back at the open garage door.

“Well?” she asked again.

I realized that I had spun around as I followed her movement and now the hose from my nail gun was wrapped around me. As I worked to free myself from the confines, I looked down and spoke at the same time.

“It’s nice, really nice.” I was absorbed in freeing myself, trying to get another look at my luscious wife and talk at the same time. When I was finally free I looked up to see Diane standing in the light shining in the garage door.

“Well, I don’t like it,’ she pouted, “I think I’ll just take it off.”

With that, she began unbuttoning the big black button at the top of the dress. I realized that the dress had what seemed like a hundred buttons from the collar to the very bottom of the dress. Diane was now unbuttoning the buttons just below her beautiful, firm breasts. She turned slightly to her right and I caught a glimpse of her naked breast. Now she had my attention. As she continued to unbutton the dress she bent over and revealed more of her breast and I knew she had no bra on under the dress. When she got to the buttons near her knees she showed that she had also taken her panties off when she put the dress on. I was totally enthralled in Diane’s movements when my realization of sound returned and I heard the sounds of the street in front of the house.

Diane stood up straight and began to pull the dress off of her shoulders. I started to rush across the shop and stop her when she looked up and me with her wicked smile on her face.

“Stop!” she commanded. “Just stop.”

She slowly mover the material around and revealed her total nakedness under the dress. She would pull the material together under her breasts, pushing up and putting them on display, then suddenly cover them up with one hand, opening the bottom part to show off her freshly waxed pussy. Then she would shift the material around and bare only her shoulders and cleavage. She knew she was driving me crazy and began strolling towards the spot where I was standing.

“Don’t move,” she breathed more than said aloud. “Just look.”

She circled me arranging and rearranging the dress as she went, doing this several times. I tried to remain frozen but reached out to touch exposed flesh. It really didn’t matter where, just to touch naked flesh. She stopped my hand with hers, holding it in the air while she moved between me and my workbench. She leaned back, putting her cute little butt on the edge of the workbench. She hiked her ass up, slid back opening the dress as she arched her back until it fell open to fully expose her naked body.

“I want you to fuck me, right here,” she said sensually,” but first you have to eat me.”

“Someone could see,,.” She put her fingers on my lips to stop me.

“Shhh! Just do it now, mister.” She leaned forward and kissed me. She kissed me hard and made noises with her mouth as she put her hands on the back of my head and drew me close.

We kissed for a couple a minutes when she began applying pressure to the back of my head pushing me down her body. I kissed her lips and worked my way down to her neck. That little nibble was rewarded with a moan. My right hand went to her left breast as my lips kissed and sucked her right nipple. My left hand traced her curves down over her flat stomach, playing briefly with her bellybutton.

I lifted my head and rose slightly to give her one more deep kiss, before going down and finding my hand opening her up to me. She rested her hands on the edge of the workbench and threw her head back, letting her long hair fly widely in the breeze created by the fans in the shop.

“Yes! That’s it. Right there.” that thought changed to a soft, but enthusiastic moan. She reached behind her with one hand and cleared a section of the workbench surface. Sawdust swirled around as she lay back fully and pulled her legs up and placed her heels on the edge of the bench. I reached around feeling for my shop stool and pulled it under my rump. I got comfortable and continued my oral treatment of her pussy.

I eased one finger into her and leaned up to watch as my beautiful wife wiggled on top of my workbench. I had added two more fingers and was enjoying the performance. I was using my other hand to stroke all of the parts of her body I could reach. I stroked her from her navel, across her hips and down her now bent legs. I lglanced up and realized my neighbors were going about their weekend activity, no one paying any undue attention to my shop activities.

I looked at my wife who was fully into the moment and noticed my small handheld vibrating sander laying on the bench near her. A devilish idea came to me and I reached over with my free hand and picked up the sander turning it on as I moved it close. I grabbed the handle near the cord and turned it upside down, removed my fingers and replaced them with the sander.

Her hips jerked up suddenly and Diane was only touching the tabletop with her heals and the top of her head holding onto the edge of the table with her hands. She began trembling thrusting her hips up and down on her unique position.

“OHHH! GOD!, OH! GOD!, OH! GOD!’ she continued her chant and her movement for a few more moments.

Her ass slammed back to the tabletop and her body continued to jerk, keeping her pussy up against the sander. Now her hands found their way to her breasts and she squeezed beasts and twisted her nipples between her fingers. She continued her thrusting and trembling as sweat covered her body. Her dress flapped with her movements and scattered sawdust and shavings into the air.

She slowed her movements and began breathing a little slower. Sweat continued to appear across her now reddened boobs and began pooling in her bellybutton.

“Oh, fuck me. Please fuck me. I need to come.” She was pleading now, desperate for satisfaction.

I tossed my sander onto the table and grabbed my belt buckle. My pants were around my ankle before the echo of the sound of my sander hitting had died away. I freed my cock and drew her towards me, keeping her on the workbench. As I easily entered her now soaked pussy I wrapped my arms around her and eased her off of the tabletop. Diane slipped her legs tightly around me and surrounded my neck with her athletic arms. I stepped back from the workbench and her nimble body was resting on my cock with her arms and legs tightly entwined around me. The pressure caused her to begin her rapid thrusting and her dress shook like a banner behind her. She had her face buried into my neck and shoulder and was moaning and whimpering all kinds of little noises.

I turned around holding her tightly and leaned back against my workbench for stability and slid my hands down to her ass. I pushed one finger into her asshole and triggered an orgasm that must have registered on the Richter Scale. Her sudden violent thrusting brought me to the point and I yelled as I came inside her as she went limp, exhausted from our lovemaking.

Again, I turned around and rested her ass on the disheveled workbench while we caught our breath. It was only then that I realized that she still had the dress on and the hat still in place. The black net facial covering was now disarrayed, but still partially covered her eyes.

“Damn, but I love this dress.” I said softly into her hair.

She giggled slightly. “Well, I still don’t like it. I put it on for you again, if you ask nicely, but I’ll probably just have to take it off again.”