A passion for bondage ties these two coworkers together in the most deliciously deviant ways.

Some coworkers and I went out for drinks after work on Friday night. The workweek felt longer than five days, I swear. The days had contained far more than twenty-four hours. At least, that’s how it felt. I was practically limp with sweet Friday relief as I settled into a corner booth. My favorite coworker, Marcus, sat next to me.

“TGIF,” I said as I raised my glass to his.

“I like different letters,” he told me.

I tilted my head, suddenly curious.

“What do you mean?”

“After a week this, I tend to crave something more than a beer to relax.”

“Like tequila?”

He shook his head. He was flirting with me. I could tell. But I didn’t understand what he was getting at. He leaned closer to me and said, “Do you really want to know?” He smelled so good—a little spicy aftershave and then that scent of man. He brushed his dark curly hair out of his eyes and licked his lip.

For some reason, I felt myself getting wet with arousal. I shifted in the leather booth, and then I said, “Yeah, I really want to know.”

“Forget TGIF,” he said, “I prefer BDSM.”

My heart started to race. I stared at him to make sure he wasn’t teasing me. He didn’t look as if he was teasing. His eyes were burning right into mine, and I felt the heat coming off him in waves. My own heart was beating pretty damn fast. I looked around, but none of our coworkers were paying us any attention. Two were at the dartboard. The others were shooting pool.

“Tell me more about your favorite letters,” I said. My voice was as low as his. Marcus grinned at me. His smile sent a jolt directly to my clit. I felt as if we were already bound together in some way, tied in lust. I knew enough about kink to understand what those letters meant, but I had to know what they meant to Marcus. Different people hang at different ends of the kinky spectrum.

“I can’t tell you here,” he said.

“He gently held my wrists in one of his hands. With me pinned like that, he continued to kiss me. I squirmed on the sofa.”

“Then where?”

“At my place.”

We’d been flirting for months, and for months I’d been waiting for him to make the first move. I was more than ready to take our relationship up a notch. And I was beside myself with the realization that he was interested in the same things I was.

I finished my drink and said, “Let’s go.”

We waved to our coworkers as we left the restaurant. I was sure our leaving together would cause some gossip in the break room, but I didn’t care. Marcus drove me to his apartment. The whole time, I waited for him to tell me more. He wouldn’t give me any clues, but he did set one of his hands on my thigh during the trip. Flickers of desire danced through me. At the red lights, we kissed passionately. I could tell that whatever we did, he was right. This was going to erase the hellish week far better than a night of darts and shots.

In his apartment, he took my sweater from me and sat me on the sofa next to him. His living room was decorated in a sleek, masculine style, but I didn’t pay too much heed to my surroundings.

I wanted what Marcus had taunted me with. He already knew I was interested, but I appreciated the fact that he started slow. We kissed a little more, and then he gently held both of my wrists in one of his hands. With me pinned like that, he continued to kiss me. I squirmed on the sofa, my panties clinging to me.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I sighed, understanding what he was asking. He wanted to know if I liked my wrists held. It was as if he had a key to my fantasies, because I’ve always enjoyed being with a dominant lover.

“Would you let me do more?” he asked. He was so polite, so cautious. After working with him for the past two years, I knew quite a lot about him. I knew he vacationed in Aspen, knew he’d gone to school at a private college back east. But I hadn’t known he was kinky or that he’d push my desires to the breaking point.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, breathless.

“I’d like to bind your wrists together and lick your pussy,” he said. “For starters.”

That sounded good to me, and I told him so as soon as I could find my voice.

“Do you want to give me a safeword?” he asked. “In case I do anything that makes you want me to stop.”

I thought for a moment. Then I said, “TGIF.”

He seemed to like that. It wasn’t exactly a word, but it would work.

He didn’t take off my clothes. He went to his bedroom and returned with a pair of handcuffs. They were simple steel ones. He demonstrated that he had the key and that the key worked. Then he set the key on the table and bound my wrists together. I was trembling all over. This was perhaps the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. Not that I hadn’t played sex games before, but discovering that my crush and I shared the same type of fantasies was a heady rush.

Marcus moved to the floor in front of the couch. First, he slipped my boots off. Then he reached under my dress and pulled off my stockings. He moved with the patient attitude I was accustomed to from the office. Marcus never hurries. He is a thoughtful coworker, and he appeared to be an equally thoughtful lover.

When he lifted the hem of my dress, exposing my black satin panties, I was awash in shivers. My whole body was quaking with anticipation. Slowly, carefully, Marcus moved forward and sucked my pussy through my underpants. I leaned back against the sofa, absolutely floored by the pleasure. He wet the entire front panel of my knickers with his mouth. I set my bound wrists against the back of his neck, lightly exerting pressure to let him know that I loved every spiral of his tongue, every pull of his mouth on my pussy through the fabric.

Only when I started to seriously gyrate on his sofa did Marcus use his fingertips to drag the gusset of my panties to the right, revealing my naked skin. I held my breath, waiting for him to bring his mouth to the split of my body. I knew what his warm, wet tongue would feel like on my clit. My heart was pounding so loud. I was nearly vibrating. Then Marcus looked up at me and said, “May I use this on you?” He opened his palm and held a small clip in front of my eyes.

“What is it?”

“It’s a little clamp. It will fit over your clit.” He showed me how the clamp opened and shut. “Do you want to feel it on your hand first?”

I nodded.

“I set my bound wrists against the back of his neck, lightly exerting pressure to let him know that I loved every spiral of his tongue.”

He opened the device and clipped it to my pinkie. There was no flare of pain, just a little pinch, but I had the feeling the sensation would be wildly different when he put the clamp on my clit.

“What do you think, Eleanor?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, please.”

“You can safeword at any time,” he reminded me. I understood, but I didn’t think I would.

He had an intent look on his face as he parted my pussy lips with two fingers, revealing my swollen clitoris. Suddenly, I felt the clamp on my clit. I sucked in my breath and then exhaled in a rush.

“How do you feel?” Marcus asked me.

How did I feel? Incredibly, almost indescribably, turned on. My cheeks were hot and flushed. I imagined they were a very vibrant pink. Marcus studiously focused his attention on my pussy and then on my face. He seemed to be pleased by my reaction. I wasn’t telling him to remove the clamp. I was, if anything, learning how to absorb the pain/pleasure mix that the toy was causing. Marcus waited a few more seconds, then he removed the clamp and immediately sucked hard on my clit. The sensation was spectacular. I came in a blaze. I didn’t even sense the climax approaching. I went from feeling the clamp on my clit to feeling Marcus’s magic tongue, to falling into an orgasm that was almost overwhelmingly powerful.

I didn’t even realize I was making any noise until I heard myself whimpering, “Oh, my God, oh, my God,” over and over. The sound was like a melody, a mantra, and I only stopped when the spasms of ecstasy slowly abated.

When I caught my breath, I found myself staring directly into Marcus’s eyes. He had watched me throughout my entire orgasm, and he looked delighted that he’d made me feel as good as I so obviously felt.

“Are you interested in trying something else?” he asked.

I appreciated how solicitous he was throughout this erotic endeavor, but I was ready for him to stop asking and start doing.

“This isn’t my first time playing like this,” I said tentatively.

A broad smile broke over his handsome face. “Do tell.”

“I don’t,” I said. “Kiss and tell, that is. But know that I’m not a novice. You can tell me what you want to do rather than ask me each time…”

“He gave me several firm blows before pausing to pull the bikinis right below my butt. I felt the paddle kiss my naked skin for the first time.”

I hoped he would get what I wanted. He left the room again, and this time when he returned he had several devices in his hands. It had been months since my last encounter with a dominant partner. My pussy was swimming with sex juices as Marcus brandished each item. The first was a velvet blindfold. The next was a paddle—shiny red on one side, black on the other. Finally, there was a little playful-looking flogger with fine, almost delicate-appearing fronds in blush-pink suede.

“So, Miss Not-a-Novice, what do you think about these?”

“I think I’m going to have a lovely night,” I told him. He seemed to agree. In a flash, he settled himself on the sofa at my side. Then he bent me over his lap, and he tucked up the hem of my dress in the back. I still had on the panties, which he left in place while he spanked me with the paddle. He gave me several firm blows before pausing long enough to pull the bikinis right below my butt. I felt the paddle kiss my naked skin for the first time, and I settled my face against the sofa cushion. I didn’t know how many spanks he’d land. He didn’t give me a number or tell me to count.