My first experience of bondage was everything it should have been and more. I was sleeping with Ron, a guy who I felt comfortable with and trusted. We weren’t exclusive, but it would be later I’d find out he didn’t realise that and I’d have to have an all but enjoyable conversation with him to come clean.
Ron was lovely; such a focused person and a thoughtful lover but he also had a kinky side. He used to propose positions for us to try based on what he knew I liked and when he had trouble maintaining an erection long enough to put a condom on, because his previous girlfriend had been on the pill he wanked using a condom for a week so we could have protected sex. Who said romance was dead?
He was also into erotic stories and having read a few myself we used to construct stories ourselves taking it in turns text by text. Having an open and honest dialogue can only lead to good things behind closed doors and this was a perfect example.
This particular night we were lying in bed, chatting about this and that when the topic of handcuffs came up. Ron jumped out of bed and pulled a pink fluffy pair from his sock drawer. He turned to me with a questioning look and I held my hands out.
It was completely unplanned and one look at the hand cuffs could tell you that, they were plastic and the left-hand one was missing its pink fur. They were comedy cuffs, but a cuff’s a cuff! My wrists were locked together and as I innocently looked up at Ron, he smiled before turning me onto my front and lifting my hips.
It was a great sex, I wasn’t handcuffed to anything and I could have easily broken free had I gotten over excited. The fluffy pink cuff looked like it had been left over from a novelty hen do while the other looked like it was a reject prop from a cops and robbers play, but that didn’t matter one bit. It was doggy style with mild role-play and I was with someone I enjoyed having sex with. Having him un-cuff me afterwards with that little plastic key was hot.