This is a position that is only truly good when it hasn't been used in a very long time. It focuses on the woman being driven to the edge of her limits and that's truly something that is only as impactful as it is rare.
Remove your clothes.
Obtain a short chair, preferably Victorian, and an ornately designed pillow. Paisley should do well.
Have the woman bend sensuously over the short chair, exposing her delicate bottom. She should make sure that she is pointing downward, to obtain maximum pleasure.
Have the man come from behind her, slowly caressing her hair as he brushes up against her from behind, his whispery breath tracing invisible circles around her flushing ears. He could also obtain a cushioned stool, from which he could thrust himself more carefully, more comfortably.
Roberta could hardly believe the screams from the depths of her soul that this mountain of muscle, this powerful predator, this dirty... man. Could this possibly be what she had needed for so long? It is true she would hardly call herself a spring chicken, but the beauty of her youth had yet to fade greatly. Yet still she could not remember how long ago it had been since the last man in her life. 8 years, maybe 10 since she had sworn off the less fair sex. Less fair he had been, too, or at least as her memory served. At least as remembered by the part of her that ignored her fevered dreams in his absence.
She drew her breath in sharply through her open mouth as he drove himself into her even harder. She couldn’t ever remember the threads of those dreams and she knew now what they were about but she here could scream silently in the joy of their materialization. She never could have imagined the benefits of having a leaky faucet until now. How could she have known the joy that would follow the disappointment and difficulty in having to call up another plumbing company because her usual plumber was in the Bahamas.
"She never could have imagined the benefits of having a leaky faucet until now."
Perfect Plumbing; at first glance, Ralph's employer could not have been more ironically named. He was loud, uncouth, and neither debonair nor handsome. Yet there was something that Roberta could see, or rather that she refused to see in their gruff and caustic exchanges. Her confusion only mounted when her heart thrilled in opposition of her vocal outrage at his insistence of needing to return the next day to finish the job. But almost automatically she found herself choosing her slinkiest gown, showering a full two hours ahead of time, and sitting in the living room perfectly made-up, drumming her fingers on the tops of her newly shaved thighs. Never had it been such a pleasure to watch someone work as it had this day. His grunts and exposed lower half beneath her sink only drove her into ecstasy as she sipped a Sauvignon-Blanc and made sly comments about his craftsmanship and tools.
She thought she had almost lost him when he was finished. She watch him slowly walk about the door, instructing to call her if anything went wrong. But as he stood in the doorway, she could see that he knew there was work to be done. He threw his tool belt to the floor and unbutto-
And then her husband came home and she put away her computer and wine and everyone went to bed. The end.