The Secret Bond
It began as a simple request for a massage during a break at work. I remember the scent of the oil and the heavy silence of the office as I lay there, stripped down to my briefs. At first, the touch was professional—shoulders, neck, and back—but as his hands drifted lower, the atmosphere shifted. When his fingers first brushed against me, a jolt of electricity shot through my spine.
He sensed my reaction instantly. With a knowing confidence, he shed his own clothes, his nakedness a bold invitation. When he moved over me, the heat of his skin was overwhelming. I remember the moment he entered me—a sharp, sudden gasp that echoed in the quiet room. I told him to stop, my mind racing with confusion, but he whispered for me to relax, to breathe, and to trust him. In that moment, the world outside the office ceased to exist, leaving only the raw, pulsing rhythm of our shared desire.