Just received this story, and love it for the way it recalls the effect that first time has on so many of us.
Like most guys I began to lean towards bondage as a kid, playing cops/robbers, war games etc. Getting older, the bondage fantasy began to include feelings of sexual arousal and got more intense as I immersed myself in reading “certain publications”. A local weekly gay magazine included a column on the bondage/leather, and S/M lifestyle written by a man who lived the life I wanted. Plus he was hot… After each article he included his contact phone number.
Several weeks went by and my desires for bondage grew more intense than ever. In a moment of pure insanity, after reading yet another article on bondage, I called this writer. One ring, two, three rings. I had both a feeling of relief there was no answer and also disappointment. Finally his answering machine kicked in… “please leave a message, I’ll get back to you.” With a trembling voice I tried to leave a coherent message. I explained into the phone that I was new to the scene and wanted to know where and how to begin exploring my interests further. I thanked him for his writings and hung up.
An hour later my phone rang. Call it intuition but I just knew the caller was this writer. I took a deep breath and answered the phone. It was he.
After introducing himself we began a casual conversation wherein I stated again that I wanted to learn more about the bondage lifestyle as I had no experience whatsoever. The writer told me I could go to this club or that bar just to get some insight, as some had bondage nights, etc. My response was I really wasn’t into the bar scene that much.
Then in a low intense voice the writer said, “Or I can tie you up.”
BINGO !!! After almost dropping the phone, I accepted the writer’s gracious offer and we talked more to iron out the details of our first meeting. It was to be a week later at his house.
To say the next days dragged by was an understatement. All week at work my thoughts went to that looming meeting. What if I was making a mistake? what if this guy turned out to be a maniac? What if, what if, what if?
But the what ifs were overruled by my desire for bondage. The morning of our first meeting I showered with a feeling of excitement and a little fear. Wearing a blue polo-style shirt, tight jeans, and my favorite pair of burgundy leather cowboy boots, I left my house, stepped out into the city and, as it turns out, also stepped into another world. A world which I hadn’t known existed until this man whom I hadn’t even met made me that offer.
The bus ride to his house was relatively short but also seemed an eternity. I spent much of the time wondering if I truly was doing the right thing. I’m not the kind of guy to do things like this, I said to myself. What if he didn't like me? What if I didn’t like him? What if I actually didn’t like being bound? Those thoughts slowly dissolved to be replaced by the thought of my being roped up by another man, and not just for pretend this time like when I was a kid.
When I stood up to get off at my stop I had a very large, noticeable bulge in my already tight jeans. I actually heard a passenger somewhere let out a low “mmmm.” I couldn’t help smiling as I got off.
Before long I found myself in front of a large old Victorian house, divided into a 2-flat. The writer's lair was on the second floor. Slowly I crept up the outside stairs towards the bell and with shaking fingers rang it. A few seconds later the door buzzed me in
My booted footsteps were heavy on the stairs. His door was ajar. My breathing became so hard it sounded like I was gasping for air. As I got to the door it opened wider. And there he was. Late 40's, trim but with some muscles, dark cropped hair with grey at the temples, neatly trimmed goatee, dark, deep eyes that NEVER lost their intensity.
I stepped inside. He told me his name was Jess, and shook my hand with a firm grasp, staring at me with those intense dark eyes. We went into the living room, lit by candles, with some New Wave music playing in the background.
After a few pleasantries. Jess offered me a glass of water, which I really needed. Then, after a few minutes of conversation, he said, “Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” was all I could mutter in reply.
With that Jess stood in front of me, his crotch very near my face. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pants pocket and quickly cuffed my hands in front of me. He then went out and came back with a dining chair which he placed in the archway between the living & dining room. He again left briefly, returning with a large black duffle bag that he placed near the chair.
He came over to me, helped me to my feet and escorted me to the chair. As he busied himself with his bag I founf myself wondering if it wasn’t too late for me to back out. But I didn’t say or do anything when he turned around with a long length of white cotton rope and stepped behind me, then crisscrossed the rope across my chest and pulled it snug before tying. I was now part of the chair. My breathing increased. I loved the feel of the rope against my body.
Jess took shorter lengths of rope and tied each of my legs to the chairs legs, with my boots still on. My breathing increased even more.
After the last knot was made, Jess looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back. He took a very long piece of cloth and held it up in front of me. A blindfold? Stretching the cloth tautly, he slowly slid it across my mouth. The slick cool fabric felt wonderful against my warm moist lips. Three windings later the gag was tied firmly behind my head. I moaned, closed my eyes and let go. Let go of my fear, let go of controlling my body & giving it over to another man whom I had just met yet entrusted myself to completely.
Jess stood behind me and rubbed his strong hands all over my bound, helpless body, pinching a nipple, rubbing my crotch, still clothed in tight jeans.
The music stopped and played another segment on the CD. That must have been a cue for Jess, as he suddenly came around in front and removed the handcuffs.
Thinking we were done, I began to undo the gag. Jess grabbed my hands and tied them together using rope. He tied my elbows together, too. Then I found out why the chair was placed in the archway. Jess took the extra rope dangling from my hands and pulled it up & over my head. My eyes followed as he pulled on the rope until my arms were completely over my head, tying it off to a hook in the archway that I hadn’t noticed before.
The feeling was exquisite and certainly unexpected. Jess rubbed my crotch again, then sat on my lap facing me. It was a little uncomfortable with him sitting on my bulge but there was nothing I could do about that. He sat on my lap, staring at me with those dark eyes. I could see my reflection in his eyes and yet lost myself too.
Jess stood up and removed his shirt, revealing a broad muscular hairy chest. He sat on my lap again and pulled the gag from my mouth so it hung down around my neck. He then presented me his chest and nipples. I gladly and eagerly sucked, flicked, and nibbled on his nipples, and swirled my wet tongue in his chest hair, leaving it matted with saliva. He offered me his armpits. I gladly inhaled and licked them.
Soon my head was nuzzled in the nape of Jess' neck. I breathed in his essence. Breathed in a combination of soap, shampoo, sweat, rope, and man. It was pure heaven.
The music switched to another segment and again Jess stood up and placed the gag back in my mouth, which by now tasted of him Then he left the room. I found myself thinking I would love to stay tied up and gagged like that forever, I never wanted it to end.
Jess returned. He was wearing a leather chest harness on that great chest (still wet from me) and tight leather pants which revealed a bulge that would make even a straight man convert. Low moans and groans from me. Without a word Jess took off my leather belt and opened my jeans, then tugged down hard until my erect cock finally got fee. Another set of moans from me.
Jess asked which hand I used to masturbate. I indicated my right hand and tried to utter the word through the gag.
He released my hands from the overhead hook and untied them. When my circulation returned some moments later, he placed a huge glob of lube on my cock, let it slide down the purple-veined shaft and settle on my balls. He then began to slowly stroke my hard cock, which I swear got harder at his touch.
I thrust my hips in the air as best I could. My breathing became harder and steamier as I sucked in air through my nostrils, emitting little flecks of spittle from my gag. Jess took my right hand and placed it over my throbbing, aching cock, letting me take over the pumping. He took his own cock out from his leather pants and we each pumped our cocks, over & over, faster & faster, our eyes locked together. Finally, from deep in the recesses of us both, we erupted in spasmic unison. I shot my load across the room towards Jess. It landed on the leg of his leathers. His load came at me but hit the wall nearby.
Both of us held on to our still erect members and massaged them till the throbbing subsided.
Jess left the room and returned with a warm cloth to clean both of us up. I was still tied and exhausted, but I swear if Jess had offered I’d have gone at it a second time!
Finally I was untied. On standing up, I almost blacked out from the sensory overload. A bit later, and after some water, we talked about the experience. While I had nothing to compare the experience with, I was completely satisfied and confident that this was the lifestyle for me.
Turns out I was right. .
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