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I felt proud of him. I sat down at the edge of the table and laid on my back on it; my C cup breasts exposed, falling slightly to my sides, crowned by the pink nipples that stood erect, whether from the cold air conditioning, or due to something else, I could not say. He fastened my arms and elbows to the table legs, and did likewise with my ankles. The heaviness on my pelvis, the heat inside me was like nothing I’d ever felt. I began to shiver; not from the cold. He took a wide belt and put it around my waist, binding me, even more tightly to the coffee table.I looked at him wondering what he saw in my green eyes. Fear? Submission? Arousal?All those things were there, and more too. I could open my legs, and separate my knees, and I did so, not sure why; a new whiff of musk rewarded my effort. I wondered if he could smell it too. I could see him now, from this new position, and could tell he was erect, inside his jeans. He kept rolling his back and his hips, trying to adjust his. The little towns west of Edmonton were isolated prairie communities linked only by a railroad and the dirt track (And I mean dirt!) we were following.The (only) hotel had but a single available room. I turned away from the registration desk and asked her what she thought we should do. She shrugged, so I rented the room. We had supper and trudged up the stairs.There was only one bed in the room, and the bath was down the hall, so I returned to the lobby while she undressed and crawled into bed. After a decent 15-minute interval, I returned to the room. The woman was in bed, buried in the quilt. Thinking she was probably asleep, I stripped down as I usually do, turned out the light, and carefully slid into my side of the bed.This was before the days of queen and king sized beds or non-sag mattresses, and although I resolutely lay on my right side with my back toward her, it wasn't long before she rolled over, and I felt the seam on her bra scrape across my back! All thoughts of sleep.
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