Laney_Delaney Camsoda - A shy, cute 44yr old Japanese mom in a pink kimono.

I kissed her on the cheek and guided her to the desk. "Why are you sleeping on it?" she asked. "I have it on very special occasions," I replied, "usually only a female would sleep on it's behalf." She got up and walked to the end of the double bed, stretching out her limbs over the edge of the desk, leaning down to lightly kiss me on the lips. I sat back and tried to imagine what my next meal would be like. "In the future, you'll need to be awake for it," she said. "Of course, the night will come," I replied, "That's why you'll have to stay in that uncomfortable position all the time. Don't worry, though, you'll still be able to sleep with me, as long as you obey my instructions." "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, I'll be there for you. I promise," she said, smiling at me. We spent the rest of the evening working on improving our communication and rapport. The next morning, I managed to get through to her and apologize. But it was too late, she said, turning angry. "On the train back to the station, make sure you're seated properly. When we get there, make your way to the front. There's a beautiful young girl in the car, and she asked you to be quiet, so I won't interrupt her, okay?" she said, her tone thin.

"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you," I said. "You don't have to say it, but I'm not ready for that yet," she shot back. "Get on the train. We'll take a walk to this beautiful place," she said, leaving the carriage. I smiled to myself. I was going to enjoy my stay in this pretty little isolated spot. I was aching for some type of adventure, but being tied up and wondering what the hell might happen turned me off. Still, I had to get on, and my wetness glided in profanely across the seat. When the train pulled into the station, I jumped out and made my way over to the girl, peering over her shoulder and focusing on her exposed breasts and stomach. Her breathing was coming harder now, her anger turning into fear, and I could see it. I bent down and kissed her. We chatted for a bit, and I realized she was angry with me for starting earlier, so I apologized. I felt her hands grab my hair and yanked me back.

She pulled me to her and pushed me to the floor. The cool morning air felt good, and I felt my arousal diminish. I tried to control it, but it was too late. I was hard. The dark laughter I heard turned me on again. It was different being a man and a woman. Being bound and helpless made me want to the very core of myself. This young girl was older than I was, and her experiences had taught me that more mature, experienced women were rare. Not that I was any sort of "elderly," but I was definitely mature in a "certain way." Something was wrong with this girl. She had a hard time, but she was excited and frightened all at the same time. Perhaps it was her fear and willingness to share? My hard breathing frightened her a bit, but she seemed so soft and down to earth that I could tell she enjoyed the abuse. Once she heard the laughter of men, she became equally alarmed. She was enjoying it, and she laughed very loud. She hid her excitement from her unsuspecting captor, but I could see she loved it. I worked my way into a conversational habit, and started to talk about the mundane stuff..