"I'll be right back, honey. I've got a surprise for you."
Before I could express my dismay, Cameron left the bedroom to answer the doorbell that had just rung. I did not see him leave; my blindfold prevented that, and my bondage kept me from removing it.
Or even cover my half-naked body.
Cameron and I had been dating for three weeks, gotten intimate, but this was to be the first sleepover at his place.
Actually, it would be my first sleepover with a guy, ever.
And the first all-night fuck-fest of my life.
When I lived with my conservative parents back in our small town, they had kept a pretty tight rein on my sex life. I was a girl with normal urges—maybe a bit more intense than normal—but throughout high school I had to settle for quickies with the local boys in less-than-ideal locations.
You know, like rushed blowjobs—rarely reciprocated—in a closet at school. Or profoundly unsatisfying, fumbling fucks in the backseat of a car on some dark country lane.
Now, at nineteen and a newly-minted freshman at a distant university, I was finally free to let loose.
I could spread my wings.
And my legs.
I could now say “Yes. Yes, that sounds like fun,” to any intriguing request from a sexy guy like Cameron.
Cameron was a tall, handsome junior who lived in his own small house on the edge of this college town; his parents were loaded.
Cameron’s crotch was loaded too, if you know what I mean.
We were getting serious and had become exclusive in our dating.
When we were making plans for this night, I confessed about my restrictive upbringing and my desire for sexual adventure. While I was telling him this, I was a little tipsy, and I was fondling his crotch, which may have inspired him to push the envelope.
That’s when he suggested tying me up and blindfolding me, at least at the start the night.
“I’d never hurt you, Annie, just turn you on like crazy. Let me treat you to a hot night. I’ll take care of everything. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
He thought a second and smiled.
“Well, if I do it right, you won’t be able to lift anything.”
I hesitated—I’d never done bondage or anything kinky like this—but when I left home I had resolved to agree to anything daring, but reasonable.
This was borderline, but I looked into his dreamy blue eyes, saw no hint of malice, and said, “Yes. Yes, that sounds like fun.”
So on this Friday evening, we skipped the usual romantic dinner and drinks at Montoni's restaurant and went right to the main course: bondage sex at his house.
When I arrived, I found a small bag and a note on his front door. I was to take off my blouse, stash it in the bag, put on the blindfold I found in there, and ring the doorbell.
His place is set apart from his neighbors, the porch was dark, and so I took a deep breath, and complied.
After a couple of rings—he was making me wait, standing around in my bra, the dick—I heard him open the door and let me in to his living room. Sensuous R and B music was playing.
Without a word, he put leather cuffs on my wrists behind my back and attached them there. He unfastened my skirt and I stepped out of it. Now clad only in my sexy little black bra and panties, he stood behind me and led me down the hallway. He had said nothing, assuming my obedience.
On the way there, I used my hands to massage his erection beneath his pants. I smiled; this was going to be fun.
In the bedroom, he picked me up and lightly dumped me onto his bed. He reconnected my wrist cuffs to straps or ropes coming from the upper sides, then attached ankle cuffs the same way to the bottoms. I was spread-eagle, and at his “mercy.”
He was just beginning to kiss and caress me in what I presumed would be a long, slow tease when the doorbell sounded and he left to answer it. I could hear the bedroom door shutting behind him.
The sounds were muffled, but I could hear him talk to another man out in the living room. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded friendly, and there were a couple of laughs.
What the hell was going on? I struggled but could not escape. I heard movement out in the living area, and some noise from the kitchen.
I did not call out; what if someone else was out there?
A couple of minutes passed, and the doorbell rang again; there was a different male voice and a short conversation I once again could not make out.
Then the front door closed. A couple more minutes passed.
I held my breath and stayed silent, listening for clues. Was Cameron alone? With another man? With two? Had there been someone else with Cameron when I first entered, blindfolded?
