Deputy Mayor Dave Latimore was rumored to have a secret lover, but nobody just knew who she was. As Dave progressed through college and into business, there was a string of potential lovers, all of whom seemed to be disappointed at his lack of interest in taking them into bed. Maybe just maybe, Dave was gay or just didn't like to have women in bed.

But the rumors about Dave continued on, some said his lover was tall and leggy, while others claimed that she was big breasted. Some claimed that Dave had a dungeon where he would take his lover for bondage and wild sex. There was no doubt that Dave cast his eyes over every woman he met, taking in all her details of how she walked and dressed. Just as every woman he met cast her eye over Dave's wonderfully sculptured body and sighed at his existence.

Dave attended all the best parties, but frequently arrived alone, otherwise with a group of guys but with no partner at his side. Dave was witty, fun, humorous, a very good dancer as well as a good singer and player of the guitar. No party of merit would be complete if Dave did not attend.

Matchmakers came and went, Mothers with daughters tried to find the kinks in his armor so they could get a date with him, but very politely, he rejected all comers to share romance with him but gave them no clues to why. No, Dave seemed off limits, but still, he was approachable, if anyone wanted to have a friendly chat.

Dave Latimore was a hunk of a guy, dark hair and well-tanned body, very fit and handsome, and just one glance from his eyes could make a girl's knees go weak, her heart race and feel the dampness of lust between her legs.

Dave dressed in style. As a younger businessman, he stood out amongst his peers, He worked hard during the day, then he would retire back to his home on the hill, overlooking the bay below. Just about everything was perfect for Dave, only the absence of a visible partner showing as a potential mark against all his good deeds.

There could only be one possible explanation, and that was Dave had a secret lover. Someone who would kiss him when he came home from work. Someone who would hold him close in bed. Someone that pleasured Dave with her tongue and lips on his cock. Someone that was pleasured by Dave's touch on her breasts and her clit below. Someone who rode his cock at night, making passionate love to him for as long as she could.

Yes, there were rumors that Dave Latimore had a secret lover, Rumors that the secret lover was tall and leggy, and rumors that she was big breasted. Rumors that he had a hidden dungeon where they tied each other while exploring their limits of lust. It seemed as if Dave had complex and deep sexual needs. No ordinary lover would be good enough for Dave.

But I knew that Dave did have a secret lover, someone who did kiss him when he arrived home from his work. Someone who held him tight in bed at night. Someone who delighted Dave with her tongue and lips on his cock, driving his pleasure to the limits. Someone who received pleasure as Dave's fingers roamed over her breasts and clit.

And yes, Dave and his secret lover had access to their hidden dungeon, where he would gag her and then tie her onto the rack, so he could apply the nipple clamps that made her squeak and writhe, testing limits and endurance. Sometimes his lover would tie Dave down, checking his control and discipline. They shared their enjoyment of the control and use of pain to get beyond the normal limits of their bodies.

Dave and his lover would spend hours deep into the evening making love together, holding each other close as they went about their routines to pleasure each other. Exhausted they would lie together holding each other as sleep overtook them.

In the morning Dave would slip out of bed and arrange breakfast for his secret lover, making sure she had everything she needed. Then he would quietly slip away, leaving her to rest so she would have the strength for making love the next night. And rest is what she would do before making Dave another romantic dinner for the evening's delight.

Dave understood the need for his secret lover, someone who was not going to be a trophy wife, not someone tall and leggy, not someone who had big breasts. No Dave's secret lover had her own secrets, something she could not share beyond the arms of her own special lover.

I look down on my own shattered legs, never to walk far again. Wheelchair driven, most my time I struggle to go from room to room as my battered body is slow to respond to what I am asking from it. My chest is small and compact, nothing much to show. But I watch Dave as he departs his home and returns later in the day, knowing he has the strength in his agile body.

I am the one who kisses him when he gets home from work. I am the one who holds him tight at night in bed. I am the one who teases his cock with my tongue and lips, driving him to bliss. I am the one who has the dungeon where he ties and gags me and then clamps my nipples tight. I am the one who makes love to him every night, riding his cock to share our delight.

Dave and I are lovers, and that's how it should be. People just don't understand that I could never be anything more, not when I'm so crippled, unable to be at his side. That's why I remain his secret lover, a pleasure to be.