[FM] Hooked up with a work colleague, realized I’m kinkier than I thought [Part 4]

tl;dr summary of Part 1 (posted [from my perspective](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/cdptfa/fm_hooked_up_with_a_work_colleague_realized_im/) [F] and [from his](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ciqexa/fm_hooked_up_with_a_work_colleague_realized_im/)): we’re both PhD students in the natural sciences working on the same project at different universities, met in person at a workshop/conference, hooked up on the last night, ended up having sex outside for several hours with some BDSM vibes, including him ordering me to post about our encounter on this subreddit.

tl;dr summary of [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ceeei4/fm_hooked_up_with_a_work_colleague_realized_im/): short update that despite living thousands of miles apart, the sex was so good we decided to meet up again so he could help me explore my growing interest in BDSM.

tl;dr summary of [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/e3n6wu/fm_hooked_up_with_a_work_colleague_realized_im/): we get called to a project meeting and decide to hook up on the DL. Night 1 is fun and relaxed sex to re-establish our connection. Night 2 is supposed to start our more intense exploration of BDSM (and to be fair, I do I slap him in the face at one point), but I have to work, so it ends up being basically a repeat of night 1.

So now Part 4 (Nights 3 and 4).

—-

The second day of the meeting went well enough. The professors seemed satisfied with my progress on the project, although in the afternoon Simon seemed like he was about to doze off at a couple points, in spite of the fact that he’d been mainlining coffee all day. We went out for dinner with the group and returned to the hotel reasonably early again. I showered, dressed in my pajamas, then went down to Simon’s room and knocked on the door. Somehow I felt both calm and nervous at the same time, almost like I was split into two separate people. The previous two nights had been amazing and I trusted him completely, but we were also about to engage in something far outside of my previous sexual experience.

**Night 3: Finally, The Kinky Sex**

Simon seemed to recognize my mood and set about putting me at ease. Instead of jumping right into it like we had the past two nights, we sat on his bed and chatted casually for a while. Eventually he asked if I wanted to see his collection and pulled out a small black duffle bag. He unzipped it, dumped everything inside onto the bed, and began organizing things into neat little rows of similar objects. He told me that I should ask if there was anything I didn’t recognize, and let him know what I was okay with and what was off limits.

I could identify almost everything: under-bed restraints with velcro cuffs (yes); ropes (yes); blindfold (yes), ball gag (not tonight but maybe later); an array of vibrators in different sizes, colors, shapes, and textures (yes please), a set of anal training plugs (no), two different male masturbation sleeves (irrelevent), a vibrating cock ring (irrelevent), and nipple clamps (yes). There were three things I wasn’t sure about. First, a set of small silicone suction clamps that can be used on any piece of bare skin, as he demonstrated (yes). Second, a massage candle with wax that melts at a lower temperature so you can drip it on people without actually burning them (no from both of us, for both mess and smoke alarm reasons: we did not want to accidentally evacuate the hotel; in its metal case, the candle looked like a weed grinder.) And finally, a small plastic cylinder with straps that you can place through the hinge of an open door and attach cuffs to, using the closed door as an anchor point to restrain someone (irrelevant because he had other plans for restraining me tonight).

Then we had to actually set up the under-bed restraints, which is not particularly easy or sexy, but does help lighten the mood and encourage teamwork. I lifted up each side of the mattress while Simon put all the straps into the right positions. Once that was done, I could feel his energy start to change. He told me to lay down on the bed so he could adjust the length of each of the four straps, and moved my arms and legs around as he needed without asking. He leaned over and kissed me, long enough that I got distracted and almost forgot what we were in the middle of doing. Then he abruptly pulled away and told me to get undressed.

After I was naked, I laid back down on the bed, and Simon carefully fastened the cuffs around my ankles and wrists. As he worked, he asked me if I’d thought about what I wanted to use as my safeword. I told him that I figured I could just use “stop” and “no,” since consensual non-consent was definitely not on the agenda, and I felt silly picking out a random word. He laughed, and suggested the traffic light system as another basic option that didn’t call for creativity, but I said I was fine with my first idea. When he seemed satisfied with the restraints he asked me if I was comfortable, and I responded that I was. He put the blindfold on my face, checked to make sure that I couldn’t see, and then I heard him step back and move away from the bed, as if to better admire his handiwork. Lying there, naked and spread wide open for him to do whatever he wanted with, all of my anxiety evaporated. This was just a game we were playing, and even though I was new to it, he wasn’t, and I trusted him to guide me through it.

The next several hours are, again, a blur. I’ll do my best to capture what happened, but if Simon decides to write up his perspective of this encounter and the details differ, I’d definitely put my money on his version over mine. He started with light, teasing touches all over my body, everywhere except where I wanted them. The nipple clamps came out next. I was surprised at how little they hurt, even after he put them on the tightest setting, and told him so. I heard a vibrator turn on and as I was anticipating the feeling of it coming into contact with my pussy, instead he touched it against one of the nipple clamps and the sensation was so intense that I lost control and accidentally blurted out “fuck stop!” He laughed, but instantly pulled it away. I was so embarrassed, and I tried to explain: I was fine, I had actually enjoyed it, I hadn’t meant to use the safeword, it just surprised me and the word slipped out. I sheepishly admitted that maybe the traffic light system was better after all and we should use that instead. I couldn’t believe that I’d fucked up so quickly, just as we were getting started. He reassured me that it was completely fine, and then quickly distracted me out of my embarrassment by reapplying the vibrator to the clamp on the other nipple and asking me for confirmation that it was okay. This time I responded differently: “fuck yes, please keep going.”

Eventually Simon took the clamps off, and sensation came flooding back to my nipples, just as he’d promised it would in our earlier conversations. He spent the next several minutes using his fingers and mouth to play with them until the sensitivity faded back to normal. After what felt like forever, and a bit of begging on my part, he finally touched one of the vibrators to my clit and I came almost immediately. He then cycled through his whole collection of vibrators, and one of mine that I’d brought with me, playing around with various settings, teasing me by running them up and down up and down my slit, pressing against my g-spot inside, and then finally my clit again. Unexpectedly — to me anyway — my favorite was the smallest, a tiny bullet of his that was nonetheless the most powerful of them all. He used it to great effect, and I came a second time, even harder than the first.

As I drifted back into awareness of my surroundings, I heard Simon approach the head of the bed, and then felt his cock press against my lips. I opened my mouth to let him in, and he proceded to fuck my face, even more roughly than the first night, and he reminded me again about the thumb trick. He stopped before he got close to orgasm, and I took the opportunity to ask for some water. He made me beg for it and comply with some arbitrary commands — I can’t remember what exactly — before acquiescing and finally pouring a tiny bit of water into my mouth from a bottle, pausing to let me swallow, and repeating it several times, all the while telling me what a good girl I was and what a great job I was doing.

Then I felt Simon move away from me, and I began to ready myself for whatever was coming next. Not that it mattered, because it was the most intense mix of pleasure and pain tangled together that I’d ever felt, to which I responded “fuuuuuck yellow yellow yellow!!!!” (I admit, I am now a committed fan of the traffic light system, based largely on that moment — it’s very helpful to have something you can yell to indicate you are perched right on the edge of your limit but not quite tumbling over it yet.) Once I had a moment to catch my breath, calm down, and almost get accustomed to the sensation, I asked what it was, and he told me what he’d applied the nipple clamp directly to my clit. I replied that I was okay for now, but asked him not to tighten it any more, to which he responded that I shouldn’t worry about that because it was already on the tightest setting. I laughed, and suggested that if he wanted to take pictures, now might be an opportune time, and I lay there enjoying the throbbing sensation of my clit as I listened to him move around the room and get snapshots from a few different angles while telling me how amazing I looked.

Although in retrospect I should’ve seen this coming, it took me by surprise when I heard the bullet come to life and then a second later felt the vibrations travel through the metal clamp to my clit. If I hadn’t been tied down, I think my body might’ve shot straight up into the ceiling. _This_ was now the most intense mix of pleasure and pain tangled together I’d ever felt. It felt like I was already coming, even when I wasn’t. And then of course, I did, for the third time that night.

I asked for more water, and once again Simon took care to alternate between dribbling a few drops into my mouth and giving me a chance to swallow. After a few cycles, he wondered aloud how good I could be at keeping still and placed the water bottle very carefully on my forehead. I kept it upright for a few seconds, and then he caught it just as it started to fall. He mused that perhaps it would be easier on my stomach, and placed it there next. This time, as the bottle started to fall, he let it tumble down my body and onto the bed. I braced myself for the feeling of cool liquid and none came: he’d managed to silently put the lid back on without me noticing. I called him a fucking asshole and a sadist, but without any real venom behind the words, and he just laughed at me.

By this point I was getting pretty tired, so I asked him what time it was. And of course, he couldn’t just tell me the answer, I had to guess first. I tried to work the problem in my head: I’d come down a little after 9, it probably took us an hour to get started, and then we’d been at it for maybe 2 hours. I guessed 12:30 in the morning. Wrong, it was later. Fuck. 1:15? Wrong, a little earlier. By the time I zeroed in on the correct time it was ten past 1, and the accumulated exhaustion of the past several days and nights was starting to hit both of us. He said he was glad I’d brought up the time and suggested that it was probably a good idea to stop. I agreed and he began to undo to straps fastening me to the bed. As each of my limbs became free, I could suddenly feel how stiff they were: I didn’t realize just how much I’d been pulling against the restraints.

He climbed into bed with me and asked me how I was doing while kissing me on the back of my neck, running his fingers up and down my arm, and telling me how much fun he’d had and what a good sub I’d been for him. I wasn’t surprised by the affection — I’d told him I was as big of a slut for aftercare as I was for sex, even in a non-BDSM context, and he was going above and beyond his normally effusive cuddles. But of course, there wasn’t much opportunity to enjoy them, because we both quickly fell asleep.

I woke up several hours later and saw that it was still dark outside. I checked my phone: just short of 5 am. Simon lay beside me, fast asleep. I immediately thought: my turn to initiate sleep sex, especially since he didn’t come during our session. I reached down and began stroking his cock, which gradually hardened in my hand. After a couple minutes he mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over onto his back. I pulled down the covers and gently sucked on his cock. Once he was completely hard, I moved to straddle his body, slowly sank down onto him, and began fucking him awake. He seemed to appreciate the gesture. After a while, he said he wanted to fuck me from behind, so I pulled away and leaned forward on my hands and knees, waiting. I don’t know if it was pent up sexual energy from the scene, or something else, but the sex was much more energetic than our previous middle-of-the-night encounter, more like what I was accustomed to from him during normal fucking hours. After he came, we both fell back asleep, but not for long. It was our last night in that hotel, so we had to get up even earlier than usual to pack and bring our luggage down to breakfast and then to campus.

The final day of the meeting was only a half-day. After lunch, everyone else got in cabs to go to the airport. No one seemed obviously suspicious that we were both staying: I’d mentioned I had a close friend that I hadn’t seen since college (a complete fabrication), and Simon said he’d never visited the city before and wanted to do a bit of sight-seeing. Once they were gone, we set off for the cheaper hotel where I’d made a reservation for our final night together. We arrived, once again, before our room was ready, so we dropped off our bags, got a ride to a tourist area, and walked around together for a few hours.

We came back to the hotel, checked into our room, and then went out to a nearby bar. After one drink each, we decided that a relatively quiet night in was best suited to our energy levels and graduate student budgets. I was already buzzing but trying to act sober as we wandered around a corner store, goofing off and looking for some snacks and a bottle of wine to finish off the night. Back at the hotel, we turned on a terrible action movie and sat on the bed as we ate “dinner” and took turns drinking directly out of the bottle. It felt so nice to be done with the stress of the meeting, and we had a great time making fun of the movie and just talking. The moment that most stands out in my memory: Simon making me laugh with a mouthful of red wine so I ended up spitting it all over the snow white bedspread.

**Night 4: More Mildly Kinky Sex**

By the time we finished the bottle of wine I was feeling a little wild, but still in control. I said I wanted to shower before any activities occurred, and when I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, Simon had gotten one of the black ropes out of his bag and was starting to unwind it. He looked at me with a devious smile and then playfully shoved me down onto the bed. The towel had fallen away and my bare back and ass were showing. He wondered aloud about what kind of marks the rope might make and began hitting me with one end of the rope, which was fused together into a hard plastic knob to keep the strands from unraveling. The rope stung each time it made contact, but without much lingering pain afterward, and he was very pleased with the little pink marks he was leaving on my body.

Simon seemed to tire of that after a few minutes and asked if I was comfortable with him using the rope to tie a harness on my body. I wasn’t surprised — we’d discussed before that he had an interest in rope play, particularly the artistic ties that designed more for aesthetics than any functional purpose, but he didn’t have a lot of opportunities for practice — and I told him yes, of course. He worked diligently, hyper-focused, moving my body around as needed. After a few minutes I zoned out, almost in a trance, enjoying my buzz and the feeling of his fingers gliding across my skin and the rope tracing its way around the back of my neck, down my chest, criss-crossing my torso, and finally across my pussy with just the right amount of tension so I could feel light pressure against my clit.

When he finished, he told me to come stand with him in front of the full length mirror, and we admired the combination of his craft and my body together. I watched our reflections as he stood behind me and ran his hands up and down my body and told me how hot I was. Then he turned my body to face him, kissed me, steered me toward the bed, pushed me down, straddled me, and kissed me again. He told me to stay there while he rummaged through his bag and came back with the bullet. He pulled the section of rope running across my pussy even more taut, pressed the bullet against it, and turned it on. The vibrations went straight through to my clit, a less intense version of what he’d done with the nipple clamp yesterday. He took his time playing around with the bullet and the rope. Then he told me he wanted to take the harness off and asked if it was okay if he took more pictures first, and I said yes.

The rest of the night was a blur of oral sex and fucking. By the end, we were both sober enough that Simon felt comfortable doing a blood choke a couple times (as he promised during our first sexual encounter in Part 1), both when I was on top riding him, and he was on top grinding into me. The rush when he released his hold was heady, but it was late, we were tired, and alas, we never quite got the timing right so that I was orgasming at the right moment. (AUTHOR’S NOTE: choking/breath play is *always* considered dangerous, do your research before you try anything, and know that there is no way to completely eliminate the associated risks.) I feel asleep satisfied, but already feeling a slight sadness creeping in around the edges, knowing that it was our last night together.

The next morning was lazy and lovely. With no meeting to go to, I’d paid for a late check-out in advance, so we actually got to sleep in (!!!) and linger in bed for a few hours. We cuddled for a while, then fucked one last time, coming together in my favorite way, with Simon fucking me from behind while I played with my clit. Then he made us both tea and brought it to me in bed. He was adorable and charming, and although I already knew it, that moment made it clear that taking care of people was as much a part of his sexual persona as dominating and torturing them. I returned the favor when we showered together, giving him an extended scalp massage as I shampooed his hair. At the last possible moment, we finished packing up and dropped our bags off at the front desk one last time, before heading to a nearby park to spend our last hour or so together before I had to go to the airport.

It was a perfect autumn day, crisp air but sunny. We found a cafe and ate breakfast sitting at a picnic table. For the first time since we’d met, I was having trouble making conversation, because I couldn’t get out of my own head and a melancholy mood had settled over me. I’m pretty sure Simon noticed, but was doing his best to keep the exchange going and act as though everything was normal. After breakfast we wandered around for a while, then made our way back to the hotel. Waiting for my car to arrive, we said all the appropriate things that needed to be said one last time: how much fun we’d had, how we’d keep in touch, and how he was definitely going to update his code according to the specifications I’d suggested at the meeting as soon as he got home. After one last hug, I got in the car and drove away.

That was a few weeks ago. I have no idea when I’ll see Simon next, but I sincerely doubt that will be our last encounter, both for sexual and academic reasons. That said, it might be a long time, and both of us have been seeing other people locally (who know we aren’t exclusive — ethical sluttery, always). There’s one woman in particular, at his university, who he’s been growing close to and who apparently enjoyed reading about our encounter in Part 1. I haven’t spoken to her directly, and we don’t know each others’ full names, but recently Simon started passing along messages and photos between us. All part of a fun new game. So darling, when you read this, know that I may have written Part 1 for him, but Parts 3 and 4 are dedicated to you. Have fun with him for me. :)

—–

A couple of disclaimers/notes:

1) I used the words “fuck” and “have sex” to refer to penetrative penis-in-vagina sex, not because I think that’s the only thing that counts as “real sex,” but because there aren’t good linguistic alternatives (“PIV” is awkward as hell). As a bi woman I know for damn sure that a penis is not required for good sex.

2) Some details I didn’t mention in the story: Simon and I haven’t been using condoms with each other, but we do with other partners, we both got tested for STIs right before the events described took place, he thoroughly cleans all of his toys between partners, and I have an IUD for birth control. When you have sex, casual or otherwise, please be safe (or at least risk aware) and make good decisions.

3) Apparently one of the possible side effects of blood chokes is blood clots, even if you never lose consciousness. Which is kind of terrifying. :(

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/e45b41/fm_hooked_up_with_a_work_colleague_realized_im

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