I met a man named Robin at my usual pub on a Wednesday night. We only chatted briefly that night, throwing a couple games of darts. Then he happened to be there again that Saturday night, Palm Sunday Eve, when I was there throwing darts with one of my girlfriends. Robin has short brown hair and steel gray eyes, very delicate features that are almost girlish, and very expressive eyebrows that give him a wicked look when he arches them. Robin is about five-foot-eight or -nine and very thin and frail looking. He wears glasses. Robin still looks too young to drink. He tends to wear large clothes that make him look even thinner. I was not initially attracted to Robin, but on that Saturday night when he asked if he could join our dart game, I invited him to join us because I had met him before.
Eventually my girlfriend had to go home to relieve her baby-sitter, and Robin and I continued throwing darts and talking for hours. Time flew, and before we knew it, it was time for last call.
"I hate being here at closing time," I confessed to Robin.
"Me, too," he agreed. "Let's go somewhere else."
Our options were limited at that hour. We could go to a noisy, expensive after-hours bar, to a Waffle House, or to one of our homes. Since Robin had just moved and did not have his dartboard hung yet, we went my house, where we continued to throw darts and drink.
It so happened that Robin and I had a lot in common. And you'd have thought that we'd have figured that out from the hints in the conversation, but, as I've said, I don't think either of us started out wanting a sexual relationship. I wasn't attracted to Robin. But when he finally mentioned openly that he had an affinity for bondage, the conversation turned to preferences. I could feel my nipples hardening as Robin described in minute detail the wrist cuffs he had made out of leather and Velcro. And the arch of his eyebrow when I mentioned my interest in being restrained with electrical cords made my pussy wet.
But neither of us seemed ready to take that extra step towards fucking. Finally, at about 5 am, Robin said it was time for him to go. He put on his jacket and walked to the door. I walked with him, hugging him gently when he turned from the door to say goodnight. He hugged me back and our lips met. His mouth was soft, like a girl's. Our lips met, softly, briefly.
I looked up at Robin through my lowered lashes to see that wicked look on his face again as he suddenly pulled my wrists together and over my head with one of his hands as he bit my lip. I jumped a little, and Robin grinned. I twisted my hands, but couldn't get them free. His grip was incredibly strong, much stronger than he appeared able to produce. His mouth traced the edge of my face moving down to my neck. He bit violently at the tender skin on my neck and shoulder. I strained to release my hands from his and learned I couldn't, which soaked my crotch immediately. Robin licked and bit his way back to my mouth where he plunged his tongue into my mouth, scraping his teeth over my tongue as I met his violent kiss.
After just a very few minutes of this, I felt as if I would scream. "I really have to get to bed," I whispered.
Robin sighed and released my hands. "All right," he agreed quietly, moving back the tiniest bit as if he were about to leave. I caught him with my arms around his neck.