Written by Leesa (the blogger for this site)
I went on my first date in months, and the guy I went out with took me to a lecture and then a movie. The lecture was on the science of attraction – and I went out with him mostly because is was not the typical dinner-and-a-movie date. Let’s call him Grady for the sake of the story.
Right before I left for the date, I changed purses – I have a small clutch that does not hold much, so I had to prioritize the contents: cell phone, mints, mascara and lipstick made the cut. I took my ID and primary credit card out of my wallet, and wrapped them with the bills (and a rubber band). I couldn’t fit much else, but decided on the Kleenex pack.
He called me right before leaving, and as I was looking at myself in the mirror, I thought, “condoms.” I have no condoms. Since this is a first date, the odds of me needing condoms were remote. But I always like to be prepared. I stopped by a grocery store on the way to his house, and I picked up a 40-pack of Lifestyles. I tell myself it is because it is cheaper that way, but really it is because I don’t have to purchase the item very often.
I open the box in the car, and because they are a 40-pack, most of the condoms are in rows of 6. Since I am late, I am not going to search for the rows of 4, just replace my Kleenex with a 6-pack of condoms. Before I get out of the car, I think to myself, “6 is way too many” and I tear off two. That looks much less slutty, on the unlikely event I need a condom.
I place the rest of my condom purchase under the seat in the car, check myself in the rear-view mirror, and get out of the car.
The talk was fascinating. The speaker used genetics and Darwinism to describe how certain things we see in the dating world are still evident. Men look for women with certain hip to waist ratio (better for child bearing), and women look for men who are good providers (will help raise their children). There was also talk of why women sometimes pick scary mates (adrenalin has something to do with it, but it got a bit science-y, so I don’t remember the particulars).
Afterwards Grady took me to a nice meal, where we discussed the talk.
The date was going well, but not “pull out the condoms” well. He drove us back to his place, where he invited me in for drinks.
We started kissing on the couch, and the kissing turned into fondling. His strong hands clutching at my breasts, him breathily complimenting me, oh, things took a turn for the better.
As I was reaching for my purse to ask him to put on a raincoat, he looked directly in my eyes, saying, “I want to try an experiment.” He then explained that right now, I am controlling everything in the date. When he touched me, I let him and he continued. He was intrigued by fear and its relation to pleasure, suggesting that if he tied me to the bed, he would have the control but the pleasure should be intensified.
I was really wet at that moment, not thinking straight. And it seemed as if he was tying some of the lecture into practice. It seemed so natural and it was easy to agree to the terms.
He returned from his bedroom with a matching pair of leather wrist and ankle cuffs. He suggested I strip and put them on while he readies the bed. I did not know what he was doing, but I agreed to the measure. The wrist cuffs were empowering – I felt a bit like Wonder Woman, and soon I shyly interred his bedroom.
He had placed a medium blue mattress covering over his bed. It reminded me of a tarp for when you camp, but there were places where he could attach the cuffs to the fabric, immobilizing me.
“You need to use a condom; I have some in my purse,” was my one request. I was excited and a bit scared at surrendering to a virtual stranger.
He used four identical copper-plated padlocks to secure me to the bed, and I joked that he better know where the key is. He assured me he had several keys.
I was surprised at how comfortable the wrist and ankle cuffs felt. They were good leather and felt soft. No binding and pinching, and then I wondered, “These much have cost a lot of money – I think bondage is something he is used to.”
He brought in a camera, saying that we will film the event, then watch it and erase it. I said it was fine, but we would need to erase the movie afterwards. I also said I wanted his cock inside of me, that my pussy was aching for him. I wanted to feel him enter me – I was trying to make the evening more memorable.
He started disrobing and his cell phone rang. He smiled at me, but he left the room to answer the cell phone.
He returned, completely clothed, and said he had to go home to his wife. She needed him. He admitted that he was borrowing a friend’s house, but that his wife would not need him long. And then he left with me still tied to the bed.
He came back about an hour later – I was a bit scared now, but very excited as well. For some reason, I still felt I could trust Grady.
He entered again and kissed me upon greeting me. I could taste another woman on his lips, and I am sure that was the point of the kiss. I think this was supposed to be sexy, but it really wasn’t.
“Hey, it is getting late,” I offered. I was trying to figure out how to talk myself out of the cuffs. Certainly Grady has been satisfied for the day.
But then Grady just smiles and informs me that he wants to show me a good time, that he will satisfy me until he is spent.
When he strips, I compliment his body, and again, I beg him to satisfy me. I know that as long as I play the game, I will be leaving well-satisfied. The more I think about the evening, the more I know this is turning into me playing the less-than-willing-submissive.
He goes into my purse – and I actually see that is much more of a violation than being tied to the bed – to retrieve the two condoms. He places one on himself, talking about how he is going to plow into me. I am a bit scared, a bit excited, well, a lot excited.
Grady is a bit larger than most of the men I have had, and the thing I remember more than anything is that my hands and legs are bound, and I can do little to help this fuck along. No caressing his back, digging my nails into his back. I still remember the bindings, the smell of the leather, but not the fuck. Grady came after a few minutes, then he left me, returning with a beer.
Then he took off the condom, tied the end together and placed the condom in the trash. He re-suited up, and then he announced he was not finished. He was much more deliberate with this fuck, and he kissed me, his mouth tasting of beer and his wife’s pussy. I felt dirty, used and well satisfied.
Afterwards, he takes off the condom, similarly ties off the condom, and finished the beer that he started.
He laughs and says that he needs a bit more of me before he is satisfied, but he can’t find any more condoms in my purse.
He then says that he has a surprise for me, and then he goes to the bathroom, returning with what I thought at first was a butt plug with almost scissored handles. I later learned it was a product by Aneros, made for stimulating the prostate. He lubes up the product, and places it in his own ass, which was a comfort for me. I thought that toy was for me, and I don’t like anything near my ass, so I was initially relieved to see him using it on himself.
He starts talking to me, clenching his ass, and soon I can tell that whatever is in his ass is pleasing himself. It is the first time I have seen a guy not touch himself get hard. He continues to do this for a while, and all of a sudden there is a little drip come out of his cock.
He tells me he is going to have one last go with me, and I tell him to untie me and let me go. I don’t want an unsheathed cock near my pussy, and he just laughs.
He enters me, and I start bucking, trying to get him loose. That just makes him enjoy this all-the-more, and he started fucking me harder. I am struggling, he is fucking me, and he has something in his ass. I start feeling a bit bruised when he finally comes inside of me. He comes harder than I have experienced in years. I am scared, but also love the amount of cum he has shot inside of me. My feelings are all over the map – I feel betrayed, violated, excited, naughty, satisfied, and strangely, even a little loved. I did not orgasm, but I was really close. Part of me wanted to yell at him to continue, but that would have sent the wrong message.
Afterwards, he places a small pill between my lips and says, “Morning After Pill.”
I swallow the pill, and then say that I didn’t really like that last bit. I am lying to him and to myself, but it was something I had to say. He says he would never hurt me, and I ask him to untie me. He says he will once he goes to the bathroom.
I hear him in the bathroom, washing up. The toilet flushes as well. I yell to him to hurry up, that it is getting late and I need to get home. A wave of exhaustion comes over me.
He comes back and says I look amazing. He is looking directly at my pussy, and I feel his come inside of me, some of it wanting to come out. I force out some of it, and he surprises me by licking it up.
He asks if I have had enough, and I just ask him to get me out of this. That was the last thing I remembered that night, as he had given me a strong sleeping pill. I woke up the next morning in a sex swing. But that is another story.
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