We were meeting in a hotel again. I had finally convinced him that it would be a good idea to get a room instead of coming to my place always. I was excited. I was deciding what to wear. It was hot, I needed a little summer dress. And what lingerie? Well, he didn't care about that much anyway. Usually everything came off in one sweep. I put on a tailored dusty pink dress that hugged my figure. I picked underwear that became invisible under that dress. And no bra. I wasn't a big fan of bras anyway.
I made my way to the subway and got on the train that was just arriving. As I got closer to the hotel where he told me to meet, I got a text from him that took me out of my 30th reading of the same ad in front of me.
The text said: "Go to the reception. There will be an envelope for you. Ignore the pamphlet. Inside you will find the key to room 507. Go to the room, take off all your clothes and put on the items you find on the bed."
I wasn't going to see him when I got there? I was surprised. I thought maybe we'd get a drink at the hotel first. But I was excited. The instructions continued:
"Once you have everything on, text me that you're ready. Kneel in front of the bed, facing the door, with your legs open so I can see your pussy when I come in. You can use pillows for your knees if you want. Wait for me like that."
What?! I was getting very turned on now. It was already my stop on the subway and I had to get off. I went up the stairs and looked around trying to figure out which way to go. Midtown was not my favorite part of the city but this was close to his work and I had time. I found my way through the dirty street and walked into the hotel. I went up to the reception and asked for an envelope in my name. She looked around. "Last name?" she asked. I told her and she found the envelope easily. Under my last name. How formal.
I went up to room 507. I was nervous. What would I find? I walked in and saw neatly laid out on the white sheets a set of purple leather handcuffs and collar with a metal loop. Next to them was a black blindfold. I looked around to see where I could leave my clothes. I got completely undressed and walked over to the perfectly placed items on the bed. I was very turned on, curious and excited about exploring these items. I picked up one handcuff. It was bulky and a bit heavy. The inside was lined with a faux fur, a nice idea for comfort. I noticed the fur was quite well worn. I was clearly not the first one to put these on. Had he actually gotten them from someone else? No. They must have been used for someone else. I wondered who. Who was my predecessor? And what was that story? And why am I using someone else's handcuffs? In all the years we knew each other, we never talked about this. Well, maybe a little talk but no action. We never tried anything. He was always a bit dominant, of course, but there was not much talk about it. But clearly he had been doing this. Maybe a lot? Why did he never bring it up before?
I started putting on the handcuffs. The fur was rather itchy. Surely by now he knows my skin is very sensitive and I don't like most textures. Why did he give me these, that clearly were not intended for me in the first place? Why didn't he get me my own? Ones that were soft and not itchy? Was it too soon to invest in? Sure it was the first time we did this but we'd known each other for years. Surely for the price of a nice dinner, of which he had bought me many, I could've had my own, not some hand me downs from some other mistress. And was this someone he was still seeing? Most likely he just didn't think about it. Didn't care enough to actually think about it.
I put on the cuffs with the bulky buckles. I put on the collar. It was quite bulky around my neck. Maybe his other mistress has a longer neck that fits it better. How many others had used these before? Was I the next cheap mistress to take on the role of his sub? I put on the blindfold. It was the kind you get on airplanes in a little bag. Maybe its role was more meaningful than it seemed at first glance. I'm supposed to play blind to the situation? Be the sub in whatever capacity he wants? I took it off again. My interest in being submissive never included humiliation/degradation. I loved being tied up, objectified, but done because I am so wanted, my body worshipped, not to be treated like some cheap fuck toy. At least not from someone I knew. Probably not ever, but certainly not from someone I knew for so long and continued seeing without sex for a long time. I had cut off the sex part of our relationship but it was always lingering somehow. I knew he wanted it back but there were so many things that didn't work for me. And now he stuck around for this? His insistence to have sex again was all for this? But I would go on and be the obedient sub. Do as I'm told.
I knelt down to see what that was like. I took a pillow for my knees. He said I could. Then took another. That seemed to work. I positioned myself there and picked up my phone. I told him I was ready. I put my phone on the side table, put on the blindfold, and waited. What should I do with my hands? I put them on my thighs. I was conscious of my pussy being exposed and it turned me on. I was getting wet. Wait, did I pee? How did I forget to pee? Should I go now? No, I can't. I have to wait. I'll be okay. Or will I? I can't believe I forgot. And my pussy is feeling a cold breeze and exposed. And it's such a turn on. I'll be soaking wet by the time he comes in. Maybe I should put my hands behind my back. I reached back and felt the rail of the bed, trying not to feel cheap in the second-hand handcuffs. At least having my hands behind me kept my back straight. I listened. Was anyone coming? All I could hear was the hum of the air conditioner. I put my hands back on my thighs. I was thinking again about how exposed I was, my breasts, my pussy. He said he wanted to see my pussy when he walked in. I waited. Aware of every sound, every breeze against my skin. I was very turned on, waiting. The anticipation was getting me very wet.
Finally I heard a noise. Was it the door? Yes! Definitely the door. I sat up a little straighter. My heart started beating faster. I was all ears. I heard him come in. He stopped. I heard him moving. Was he getting undressed? He said nothing. Did I even know it was him? Of course it was him. Who else would it be? I kept listening. I felt a smile come over my lips. I was excited to... well, not see, but feel him. I waited patiently, a bit self-conscious. He came closer. I waited. I heard him opening something. Finally he spoke:
