My coat slowly fell to the floor and I caught a glimpse of our reflections in the mirror. His body was so strong and beautiful, to think he was completely at my mercy and so enthralled by the experience was an orgasm in itself. Standing a few inches behind him I looked like an animal about to pounce on its prey. The leather, soft and gently embracing my body, accentuating my womanly curves …… suitably conflicting with the huge, black strap-on that was awaiting his blissful ignorance.

Taking it in my hand I edged closer until the tip was just between his legs, he flinched slightly, clearly trying to work out what was touching him. I was immensely turned on by now and there was definitely no need for lubricants. I took the juices from between my legs and covered the end of the strap-on. There was no hesitation, no messing about, I held onto the shaft and with my other hand steadied my balance on his waist. I thrust my makeshift c*ck deep inside him and his response was out of this world. He released the loudest of moans which continued to get louder as I moved in and out. I have to tell you that fucking a man in this way has to be the most unusual but exquisitely beautiful moment of my life and knowing that he was feeling as I was, made the moment a thousand times better.

We moved together and I noticed he was pleasuring himself at the same time. This wasn’t what I had in mind and he knew this was against the rules. We were not allowed to touch ourselves. I withdrew and lashed his buttocks; his hand remained where it was. Again, the leather flogged his back and he suddenly stood up straight. I smiled to myself. I was in trouble now.

He swiftly removed his blindfold and as his eyes adjusted to the light he looked me up and down. There was a definite glint in his eye; a dangerous and fiery arousal and as he moved towards me I backed off. This was it, I knew it, I could feel it. He was hungry for it just like me. His arm extended quickly and he caught the back of my hair, roughly pulling me towards him, our mouths were millimetres apart. I was inhaling his breath, staring deep into his dark eyes, I could hear my own heart throbbing.

His other hand reached up towards my breast, his fingers icy cold against my erect nipple. He squeezed and I bit his lip, the pupils of his eyes flared and I became lost in his vigour. I bit harder, he wrenched my head back, his lip came away from my teeth leaving it cut and bleeding. His tongue ran over the blood and he smiled – this man was delicious and I knew I’d met my match where preferences were concerned.

The rest of our stay in that hotel room will remain private. Not because I’m trying to tease you but because it was special between him and I. I had never met anyone like him before and often wonder if I will ever again.

What became of him?

Well I became “normal” for a while and thought that being in a “conventional” relationship was for me. I was kidding myself. Perhaps I felt a slight guilt for my deviant preferences; I come from a strong Catholic background which is renowned for its guilt ridden tendencies, then again, it’s equally renowned for pushing believers the other way; rebellion, curiousity and most definitely deviance.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that no matter what your background, your culture or your sexuality is, if you have a preference for something and it’s on a mutual understanding with someone, just go with it. Soulmates are hard to come across and perhaps one only comes along in a lifetime. I found mine and lost him. Don’t make the same mistake.