We talk a lot. We talk on the phone. We send email. We stay up late chatting. Best of all, our topics cover everything. It is so refreshing to find a conversationalist who also has something interesting to say. We all know, there are many people who love to talk but never about anything you want to hear. Not the case here, which is a very good thing. My boyfriend and I live in separate states and talking is what we do the most.
I’m sorry, how rude. I should introduce myself: I’m Lisa Baldwin. Currently in an amazingly fulfilling, unfortunately long distance relationship with Walter Williams. We met online several months ago and have since created a mutual admiration society.
Both of us being on the kinky side of freaky, our discussions contain a generous helping of sex. One night, sitting in front of our respective computer screens our talk turned to fantasies. Our tastes are quite similar in most respects and once again, we discovered something in common. We both wanted to meet as strangers in a singles bar and seduce each other. We’re both huge flirts and I’d love to see what witty repartee my baby would use to convince me I should be in his bed. I was lost in thought, creating the bar scene in my head when the instant message window blinked.
WW: Anything else you want to try?
LB: Everything.
WW: Sounds good to me. How about on our next visit? What should we do…..
Now there’s a wide open question if ever there was one. I’m sure he did it on purpose, testing to see if I felt comfortable enough to pull out the Nasty Files from the back of my fantasy rolodex. I watched the cursor blink, teasing me. In all of our previous conversations we’d never held back. Sharing feelings and thoughts easily. Why stop now?
LB: I like being tied up. Blindfolded. Restrained.
Once again I sat watching the cursor blink. He already knew I enjoyed an amount of pain with my sex. Nothing most couples don’t do - nipple pinching. Ass smacking. He enjoys the ass smacking. But what about bondage? I saw the note at the bottom of the IM window. WW is typing a message. Okay, let’s see how much alike we are now…
WW: Really? Like for real S&M type stuff?
LB: Yes. It’s an extreme turn on to give up control of your body. To let someone have their way with you.
WW: I get to have my way, huh?
Yeah, he was feeling the idea. I swear I could hear the gears in his brain cranking away.
LB: I trust you completely. I’m yours for whatever you want to do.
WW: This sounds like more than just a physical thing for you.
As usual, he read between the lines.
LB: True. It’s more about the psychological aspect of being dominated by another person. Of giving up your control. Of the trust you place in the person who holds the control.
WW: I never thought of you as submissive.
LB: That’s what makes it so exciting for me. In everyday life, I’m the one people count on. The person they come to when they need to get the job done. I enjoy the position of power and I love my independent personality. But sometimes I just want to let go. Let someone else be responsible. Let someone take care of me for a change.
WW: I’d love to take care of you.
LB: I’d love to let you.
WW: I think I have some shopping to do.
I literally laughed out loud. We talked for a while longer and said good night after we realized just how late it really was. Our next visit was fast approaching and Walter relished teasing me about his purchases. He would not satisfying my curiosity and insisted he had several surprises in store for me. I knew the context, but when it came down to it, I had no idea what he was going to do to me when he arrived.
At last, he was here. The first few days were spent enjoying each other’s company. The usual non-stop, mind-blowing, body-quivering sex. We may have been good as individuals, but together, we are explosive. On the fourth day, when we were finally able to let each other dress, we spent the afternoon at a friend’s BBQ. We ate too much, laughed too loud and while others were scattering for another round of cards, dominoes, or horseshoes, we made eye contact and both knew it was time to leave.
We made it back to my house, somehow, and he immediately turned the air conditioning to meat locker. A sure sign that hot, sweaty sex was imminent. He reached over to light the numerous candles strewn about my room. I reclined on the bed and watched the shadows of flames dance on the ceiling. Maybe I was in store for some romantic love making.
“Sit up, Lisa” I noticed a tone in his voice I hadn’t heard before. I sat up without question.
“Come here.” I rose and walked over to Walter slowly. His gaze lowered to my breasts and he licked his lips. I needed no further hints. I pulled the cotton sundress over my head and threw it to the side. He was on me in an instant. One hand forcefully gripping my shoulder, the other on the back of my head. He pulled my mouth toward his and kissed me hard. I felt his dick stir against me and I leaned into him, putting my arms around his back and stroking the dark chocolate skin I love to touch. His tongue moved insistently in my mouth.
He was in control of the tempo of the kiss and I let him have his way. Moving my tongue around his, letting him navigate my mouth at his discretion. I playfully bit his lip as he pulled his head back and looked me in the eye. Damn, he looks serious, I thought. He backed away from me and told me to sit. I took a step backward to find the soft mattress, when he stopped me. Taking my hand and pulling down. I followed my hand and sat cross-legged on the floor. I looked up at him as he turned his back and started rummaging in a bag.
My eyes grew wide with surprise when he turned to face me. In his hands were wrist cuffs. In the dim glow of candlelight I couldn’t make out the material. They were black with shiny chrome buckles and O rings. Walter got closer and I could see some sort of clasp. Hell, I was thinking scarves, and he was thinking serious bondage.
“Hold out your wrists, Lisa.”
I held them up in front of me as he buckled one of the cuffs onto my wrist. It was soft suede and as he buckled the belt he looked into my eyes to see if I was still his willing participant. I met his gaze and then lowered my eyes. I held out my other wrist as a silent offering of myself. I knew he understood the gesture. He buckled the other leather cuff and told me to lie back. I quickly undid my bra, knowing it would be a nightmare trying to get it off later with my wrists occupied.
The clasp of the cuff jangled, an ominously eerie sound, as I moved. I watched Walter kneel next to me as I lowered my back onto the soft carpet. He pulled my hands above my head and fiddled with the cuffs. When he stood and looked down I pulled my arms and realized my wrists were now attached. I pulled my arms to the side and felt the leg of the bed. Damn, Walter. You really do mean business.
“Can you get out of them?”
Yeah, right. I thought. Can I pick up this bed? I took the time to inspect my restraints. The buckles I couldn’t undo, but the clasp was like a key chain. Pull back on the little lever and it opens. I pulled my arms away from the bedpost to show I had, indeed, freed myself.
Slowly and in a low voice, Walter said, “But you won’t do that again, will you, Lisa?”
“No, I won’t” I’m not an idiot. The implied threat was clear. That lever no longer existed for me.
I tried to remain still, my anxiety increasing. I was dying to ask what he was planning, but I hadn’t been instructed to speak, nor did I want him to think I was questioning his actions. So I concentrated on my breathing, willing my heart to slow its rapid pace.