The weeks that followed felt like a dream.We fucked everywhere. His office, my desk after hours, the back of his car, the executive bathroom with my legs wrapped around his waist and his hand clamped over my mouth. We fucked in the staircase of his building, my dress pushed up, his belt unbuckled, both of us risking everything for minutes and hours of sex.But it was his house where I truly learned about him.He had a room. A hidden room behind a fake wall in his closet. I discovered it on my fifth visit, when he blindfolded me and led me through a door I hadn't noticed before."Trust me," he whispered.He removed the blindfold, and I found myself in a space that was all dark wood and soft lighting. A bed against one wall. Restraints hanging from the ceiling. A collection of implements laid out on a leather bench… floggers, paddles, crops, vibrators, butt plug, nipples clamp. I should have been scared, but instead, I turned to him and said, "Show me more, everything you desire."
Read more