My life is boring, and I wasn’t sexually adventurous even before I got married. Marriage completely ended my sex life, as it is wont to do, and when I got divorced at 54, I didn’t expect any sexual miracles to come my way.
I recently attended a phlebotomy conference. Phlebotomy is basically the practice of drawing blood for medical reasons. It’s my job, to be clear, not just a weird hobby. These conferences aren’t particularly exciting, but it’s good to see colleagues.
We were stationed at a hotel, per usual, but something extremely exciting and unexpected happened: Another convention was also using the hotel. A BDSM convention.
The first hint was the leather. The next was the black latex. Then I got lost and ended up at the wrong conference room, only to witness a man getting pegged in front of a rapt audience. That was an eye-opener, let me tell you.
It was apparently either a sales pitch for a strap-on company or a guide to using them, because someone was droning on about materials and proper technique, but I didn’t absorb any of it. I stared, transfixed. I’d never wanted to have anything in my ass, but the woman wielding the strap-on was gorgeous. She was wearing a corset and skintight leather pants, and the look on her face as she fucked that man was…
Well, I got an erection.
Not from the ass stuff, to clarify. But as I stood in the doorway in my tweed jacket, I had a sudden overwhelming desire for that woman to dominate me. I’d never moved much past missionary, and though I’d seen my share of porn, it had never seemed like it might happen to me. But here I was, watching another middle-aged man get fucked up the ass.
The woman demonstrating the strap-on looked up at one point. Her eyes coasted over the audience, almost looking bored despite how wild this all seemed to me. Then her eyes locked on mine. I stared back, fully aware that my jaw was hanging open and I was beginning to sweat. She smirked, then returned her attention to her partner. I swore she knew my dick was hard in my slacks.
I left the room, but the memory wouldn’t leave me. I thought about it through a series of technical discussions, and I even skipped the post-conference excursion to a nearby bar, choosing instead to stay at the hotel bar. There were plenty of leather-clad people there, but not the one I most wanted to see.
Then she stepped up beside me and ordered a whiskey neat, and I pretty much fell in love.
“Hey,” she said, grinning at me.
“Hey,” I said back weakly. I was still wearing tweed, and I felt pathetic compared to this radiant woman, but she didn’t seem to mind. She leaned against the bar and fixed me with her full attention.
“Is this your first convention?” she asked.
I laughed awkwardly. “No. I’m here for a different conference, actually. It’s about phlebotomy. Drawing blood,” I added when she looked confused.
She smiled. “We have a session on that, too, but it’s probably not one you’d be interested in.”