MY FIRST BONDAGE INDISCRETION

MY FIRST BONDAGE INDISCRETION

My twenties passed in a haze of loneliness and perpetual singleton. I first dated when I was twenty and when the relationship ended, I spent the next five years pining over a man who did not know how to treat me right and who took every advantage of my infatuation to come back whenever he found a lull in his sexapades. The desire to find “Mr. Right” pushed me into the arms of men who only fancied me for a night or a few months. When some of my age mates were getting married, I was busy counting the number of men who had ghosted me.

I scoured through every online dating App trying to find “the one” not that I had a concrete idea of who the one was or what he looked like. One day he was tall dark and handsome and the next, light-skinned with a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. As the years went by, I was content with any breathing man as long as he fancied me. Then I met Jack, a pleasant banker who stroked my face and kissed my forehead. We had mind-blowing sex for quite some time and he generally prepared me breakfast in the first part of the day. We were together for four years. I shared all my dreams and secrets with him since I truly thought he was my destiny.

One morning, after a night of passion, I woke up to a text message saying, “It has been nice getting to know you” followed by a blushing puppy emoji. After that, he ghosted me. His vanishing act gutted me. How could he waste four years of my life in an open-ended quest to know me? Was something wrong with me? I am a well-endowed, light-skinned “slay queen” who can give any 18 year old a run for her money. Knowing it wasn’t my looks he had a hard time with nor my prowess in bed meant that my personality was wanting.  My dream of having 2.3 kids and racing into the sunset seemed more and more distant and by my mid 30’s I was slowly giving up.

This setback pushed me into a two-year dry spell. I could not bring myself to rejoin the dating scene and I resorted to masturbating whenever I got the “itch”’. One day on my 36th birthday, I was going through an escort site looking for some arm candy to masturbate to when I came through Njoroge’s profile. We arranged a meeting and immediately we met my plan to freeze my eggs as I waited for Mr. Right went through the window.  He fit the bill to a ‘T’. Being a Christian, Njoroge was opposed to premarital sex. For this reason, we waited until our wedding night to consummate our union.

The sex was alright, however, nothing similar to how it had been with men I’ve previously been fixated on.  The sex was okay but the hot pulsating heat was missing. Sex with him was hurried and unfulfilling but in other areas, he was the most caring man I have ever met. But over the past year, the initial lack of raw, sexual attraction had started to become the loudest voice in my head. I began to look at pictures of exes and fantasize about sleeping with them. I even found myself fantasizing over a pizza delivery driver while Njoroge went down on me at night.

These fantasies took root and one night, I decided to do a little exploration. My partner was out of town and I decided to make an order for pizza from my favourite take-out joint. I had seen the way the delivery guy looked at me and I knew that all he needed was an invitation. I put on my sexiest lingerie and waited for the doorbell. When I opened the door, the poor guy almost dropped his jaw. I invited him in as I made payment for the pizza. I ensured that I kept brushing on his arm in a bid to arouse him and before I knew it, he had taken me in his arms.  We started kissing and the kissing turned into shoving. He flung me on my tummy and using my scarf, he tied my arms behind my back. Before I could protest, he had tied my feet together with my hands so I could not move. He started tickling and teasing my whole body and any objection I had gone through the window. He pulled me on the side of the window and fucked me from behind. I could not move nor speak and I adored every minute of it. The sex seemed to go on for hours and when I orgasmed, he released me, put on his clothes, picked his money, and walked out. This turned out to be the best experience of my life and I can’t wait for the next session.

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