I was confused until I realized his belt buckle was an armadillo, and he was referring to sticking his cock in my mouth hard enough to push my forehea... against his belt. He was quite a bit older than I, but he was intriguing. He was a biker which always turned me on. I tried every excuse I could think of, and all he had to say was "when you think of something good, you let me know." I remember the morning he slid his hands down the front of my sweater while we were in my cubicle, and the next. My arms are now stretched and my hands are still holding on to the same beam. Tied in place. How long is he going to make me wait? I was warm, I could feel the heat pulsating between my legs as he tied me. Now the anticipation and excitement is slowly fading. He’s doing this on purpose. I know it. I should have peed. My bladder is making itself known. I can feel the pressure, the need. Damn it. He usually tells me what to do, why didn’t he remind me? Or was it on purpose? He knows my orgasms. More

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