Vintage Treasures

This erotic story excerpt by Angora Shade from Vintage Treasures in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 5 was originally published by Cleis Press and is a finalist in the Good Sex Awards Best Use of Sex Toys Category. Show it some love and vote for this story in the Readers' Choice awards by 20 June.

Vintage Treasures

Corrine sputtered over debris in her way and snatched the item from his grasp. “No way.” She turned it over in her hands, reading: “The innovative Steel Rectal Plug is designed for the beginner anal enthusiast. Easy insertion and cleanup.”

“Wait, there’s more.”

Corrine’s shock intensified.

David could barely contain his amusement as he read the inscription of an odd object reminiscent of a hairdryer with a two-foot electrical cord, still encased in its original packaging. “Personal Wand Massager—for all your intimate needs.”

Corrine yanked the heavy trunk out from its hidden corner for more light. Everything inside looked store-shelf fresh, the pastel coloring and dated retro imagery the only indicator of true age. She rested her arm above her against the stairs while she gazed over the shocking contents. A set of metal handcuffs, outdated boxes of condoms, lacy mismatched lingerie, and several items Corrine had never seen before sat atop a partially crushed red feather boa.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she whispered.

“Saving for a rainy day, I bet,” David smirked.

“1969…1971…1973… David, these are all vintage.”

Corrine felt the cool snap of metal encase her wrist.

“No-o way, David. You know I don’t do kinky.”

David leaned in close and pulled his wife’s hand toward his face by the cuff he held tight in his grip. His lips met her knuckles while his features grew deep with desire. “You got something better to do, woman?”

The energy around David’s body was electric. They’d been so busy with the move: packing, unpacking, cleaning, decorating, and remodeling; it left them too exhausted for more than a five-minute quickie at the end of the day, if at all. But she’d swear to high heaven she hadn’t seen David this lustful since before they were married. His facial muscles were set, his mouth a sly, devilish smile, the bulge in his shorts caught in the restrictive hold of his jeans. She imagined how that must ache. But she loved his hungry stare. Tingles broke out over her bare arms, and a needy pull in her pelvis betrayed her mission to stay on task. She had to admit she was curious. After all, nothing she saw in the trunk looked truly dangerous.

Perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Former-House-Owners had perfected marital bliss.

David leaned over the trunk between them and brushed his lips lightly against Corrine’s mouth. She could smell the sweet scent of beer on his breath, taste the warmth of his pursing flesh. She heard a scrape and felt movement, giggles breaking from her mouth as feathers wrapped about her shoulders, tickling her neck and jaw.

“What’re you doing, Mr. Carson?”

“Damn, woman, I love when you call me Mr. Carson.” He twirled her in a circle as a saxophone sang crisp tones from the record player, then he smacked her round bottom until she giggled again. Their eyes met when she spun back to face him, a long moment hanging in the air like the modern dangling bracelet from her wrist. Another smile broke over David’s face, all his pristine teeth reflecting the thoughts in his head as he grabbed another item from the box. “You should try this on, honey,” he said.

She looked at the barely there, lacy pink bra he dangled from a finger. It looked clean, the original tag still attached by its short, cotton thread. But she paused a moment, aware of Father William and Suzanne’s visit, wondering what they’d think if they knew about the ridiculous box of depravity she and David had found. She thought back on how she’d never ventured past a tiny egg vibrator that had been a gift at her bachelorette party years earlier and how devastated she’d been when the tiny motor finally gave out. Too much of a prude, she’d skipped out on heading to an adult store to replace it for fear she’d be recognized. But sex with David had always been good. She didn’t need all the silly extras….

Corrine sighed. Good, maybe, but everything they did was slowly becoming as rote as multiplication tables ten years into their marriage.

She decided she spent too much time thinking and pushed past rules of propriety and her own ideas of traditional until her jaw was set and she reached the tipping point: Why not?

Throwing her T-shirt over her head in a burst of energy, she slipped out of her sports bra and turned her back to her husband, eying him like a skilled tease. He shimmied in place with his focus locked, appearing ready to pounce.

“Does it fit?”

Corrine spun around with her hands cupping her chest, hiding the sexy garb. “Come find out…”

David took a step forward, and Corrine took a step back, forcing him to follow. She darted left when he reached for her arm, and then right to sidestep obstacles, until her game had them both chasing in circles around the cellar. He finally caught her with her back against the old workbench, pinning her hips with his body, mildly out of breath.

He kissed her neck, and still she held her hands across her front. He kneaded the flesh of her naked biceps down to her elbows while he nipped at her chin and scissored his legs between hers. She finally melted when their lips met and the bulge in his pants pushed up against her thigh. Seeking to bring him closer and explore the contours of his muscular back, her arms snaked away from her front and found the hidden ripples of youthful, abdominal perfection beneath his shirt.

David spun her around and held her back to his chest while dragging his hands from her shoulders to her breasts. He nuzzled into her naturally thick hair, loving the sweet scent of her labor mixed with her everyday lotion, until he found the surprise pink treasure fitting like a snug glove, encasing her with soft lace that gave under his fingertips.

David bent his head to kiss the delicate skin of Corrine’s ear. She pushed back into him, following the edges of his waist until her hands fell low upon the swell in his shorts. The saxophone stopped playing, replaced with their deep exhales and sighs.

And a click.

Corrine hadn’t felt David direct her arm forward atop the workbench or seen the iron ring attached to the edge until she’d opened her eyes to the strange sound.

“David?”

The warmth of his body had already moved away. She pivoted to see him grab a length of old clothesline peeking out from a box, unwinding several feet and dragging it slowly toward her across the floor.

She laughed. “You’re not serious….”

David eyed her like a piece of meat, licking his lips. “New house, new toys, new adventures.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

But David was the delicious devil. “Tell me you want to play with me, Corrine.”

Tension began building in her core as she pulled against her wrist at the table and watched David step closer with his makeshift rope. She wondered what he might do. She was a novice to the more, her thoughts flickering only to what she’d seen in a few X-rated movies. A rush of heat enveloped her face and between her thighs as the possibilities ignited her mind. Maybe this was the opportunity to explore past a simple egg toy. Maybe this was how rote became the new adventure David suggested. Besides, the watch on her wrist read just after three. Father William wasn’t due until five.

Corrine followed the edge of her plump mouth with the tip of her tongue, gauging David’s lusty, rigid stance. All he needed was a go. “Only if you agree to trade places next time…Mr. Carson.”

David inhaled deeply, stretched the line taut between his hands and dropped his voice. “With boxes full of goodies, we could be down here for days.”

Corrine laughed, pivoted toward the wall, and allowed her husband to bind her other wrist to the same metal ring and remove her shorts. She stepped out of them while he proceeded to gently spread her legs and wrap her ankles to the right and left legs of the workbench. Enough slack in the material allowed her to pivot at the hips and peer back over her shoulder, but not move farther than a few inches from where her waist bumped over the rough table’s edge.

David slid back to the record player and tossed on another tune. “Love Me Tender” played quietly while he disappeared. She heard his footfalls thump against the old stairs and the faint creak of floorboards over her head in the kitchen. A moment later his presence filled the cool cellar again, and the unmistakable crackle of plastic crinkling and slide of cardboard moving alerted her something had been opened. She didn’t know what he’d taken from the box, and her whole body broke into gooseflesh despite the comfortable temperature below ground in high summer.

She jumped when she felt David wrap his large hands around her toned waist. His bulge pressed into her thigh again, his warm torso covering her bare back. She sighed when his kisses fell onto her shoulder and his fingers slid down her sides. A moment later the fabric of her thong was stretched to the side and the warm pressure of David’s steady digit traced the line her panties usually followed. Corrine felt her rectal muscles pucker when he found her sweet hole.

He whispered into her ear. “I’ve got this neat beginner’s toy in my hand…”

She tensed when the cool slip of metal slid against her.

“And a jar of oil…”

A cap was unscrewed softly and the aroma of coconut wafted about them. The scent reminded her of baked goods, sugar in her mouth, and vivid visuals of slippery slickness when the common kitchen item was exposed to the slightest bit of heat. She took a deep breath and wondered how she’d feel, slick, plugged, and full. David’s long, thick girth was always exciting when he drove deep into her wanting cunt. Fresh tingles of desire awoke the goose bumps that had fallen away, anticipation causing all the hairs on her neck to stand as erect as her husband’s primal urge.

David rubbed her left buttcheek with his left hand while he dotted slow kisses down her spine. “I want my favorite hole as tight as this one.”

Corrine swooned hearing his husky tone, her muscles relaxing. David probed with the same light pressure his tender mouth made as he continued to descend. There was little resistance. It was only when his tongue drew circles over the upper half of her right asscheek and her muscles flexed of their own accord that she felt the narrow space of her exit trapped with a pleasant fullness.

David stood and pressed himself against Corrine’s back again, reaching around to cup her left breast and inch his way into the lacy pink garment. He pinched her perky, hungry nipple while his right arm brushed over her shoulder and toward an electric outlet. The personal massager looked nothing like the modern things Corrine had seen, but the purpose was clear; she just hoped it worked. She hoped it would drive them both wild.

Corrine pulled at her arms only to remember they were harnessed to the table. She desperately wished to touch David, to give him the same affection she was receiving. It was so different being restrained, giving him all the power. He was a creative lover. Her blood burned wondering what would come next.

The sound of his fly unzipping and the light fall of his shorts against the floor told her what she couldn’t see. His fleshy member rubbed against her backside, and warmth in her middle filled her with unbridled anticipation. But she didn’t know how ready she was until she craned her head over her shoulder to meet David’s lips while his cock slid against her vulva.

David tilted his hips and pushed Corrine’s waist tight against the workbench while his marble cock probed between her spread legs. Her buttocks tilted up to meet him as he entered, the metal toy in her rear giving the usually comfortable fit a more compact feeling. Every inch of her greeted his dick like a desperate hug, and soon his thrusts had him balls-deep in formfitting pleasure.

Corrine moaned and met him with each beat of Elvis Presley’s love song. She relished how her man kneaded the flesh of her ass and the needful way he slid his hand up her neck and into the thick of her untamed hair. Her internal skin felt more sensation than ever with the toy and David’s cock working in unison. She barely noticed the hard tabletop or her restraints.

Until she heard the buzz.

The vintage toy wiggled to life with its loud vibrations. She saw David bring it down out of sight and felt the soft plastic head jiggle into the skin of her torso.

David held her tight to him while he dove in deep again. He grunted and pulled out, drawing his tool down in front of Corrine’s waist and between her legs. She tensed, but his fingers massaged her abdomen while he directed his tool lower, his lips suckling the arch of her neck.

The moment she relaxed, her body responded.

“David,” Corrine breathed, “that’s amazing.” So much better than the little egg toy.

Vibrations teased her clit while David’s cock slid back into her tight folds. The internal ball of combustion she always felt close to orgasm was growing, compacting, jabbing at her with determination of its own. Elvis sang something sweet but Corrine only heard David’s lustful moans mixing with the peaking, unintelligible cries sputtering from her lips.

The sweat of David’s body crept into his shirt and stuck to her back while her limbs flexed against her resistance. His balls thwacked her ass; his hand encompassed her waist, his cock straining for release. Corrine began to tremble, but he held the vibrating massager to her clit until she screamed, his cue for her to unleash.

Corrine came hard, her legs wiggling, her toes clamped together fast inside the trainers still on her feet. She didn’t feel the uncomfortable pull of the handcuff at her wrist or the way the clothesline stretched and squeaked. There was only the constant, agonizingly delicious pulsing of her orgasm hitting her on repeat. Her knees buckled slightly as her body went limp, but David held her aloft, his member ramming home hard and fast, finishing with his own verbal roar.

He laid Corrine gently against the table, one hand still at her belly, the other lifting his wand to the table and switching it off.

“Mr. Carson…”

David looked down at his wife and bent her head up to kiss her lips. Sweat beaded at her forehead and the smell of their sex was stronger than the odor of forgotten treasures and cellar.

“That happened so fast…”

“Don’t worry, babe. There’s a whole house left to christen.” He untied her rope-bound wrist and legs and twirled her to the side to feel the full embrace of her body, minus her lone, handcuffed wrist.

Corrine bent her knee around David’s calf and dragged her free hand down the length of his back. “I think I like toys, Mr. Carson.”

David smiled. “Vintage toys.”

“Do I just pop this out?” She put her hand behind her to touch the metal object still in her rear.

“Yeah.” David grabbed the handle and gently rotated the toy out from Corrine’s backside. “I hear there are ones that vibrate….”

Corrine chuckled, but her middle was growing hot again, the flush of desire returning to her face. She glanced at her watch. It was only a little after four. They had almost a whole hour to play. David had agreed to go next….

Corrine watched her husband smirk. A moment later he was rummaging through the contents of the trunk again, digging elbow-deep along the bottom. He spoke to the floor. “If there’s not one in here, we could always add to the collection.”

“Only if we drive out past the next dozen counties, David. What if we saw someone we know?”

He shrugged, his flaccid member perking up slightly as he raised a neon-purple strap-on into the air.

No sound came out of Corrine as she mouthed, Oh my god.

Both their heads whipped in unison as the dong of the doorbell rang somewhere overhead.

“Shit! Get dressed!”

“No-no-no.” Corrine shook her head, her horror freezing her in place. “They’re way too early!”

But David was already sliding his shorts back up and tucking his cock in. A moment later he’d bounded to the steps, his footfalls smacking overhead, his words muffled but his tone a genuine greeting to the pious, kindhearted preacher.

Corrine snapped to attention, realizing she should be there too, but she couldn’t reach her shorts at her feet. She was held fast by the wrist to the metal ring on the workbench. She felt her face blanch as she raised her voice. “Hey, honey? Where’s the key?”

 

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Angora Shade is an American author writing full spectrum erotica and romance.

 

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