Webman

Greedily I rammed myself against him as I felt the contractions start deep inside my womb.

***

As usual, William was the only person in the office when I arrived on Monday. Though I hate to admit it, we were both nerds and both as pathetic as each other. While most of our colleagues dreaded Monday mornings, the two of us welcomed the start of the week, and an end to the boredom of the weekend.

"Did you enjoy the rest of your birthday?" he asked, coming over to my desk, one hand behind his back--dealing with a 'wedgie', I suspected. The waists of his trousers were almost as high as Simon Cowell's, but somehow I liked that better than him having half of his butt exposed.

Every time I saw a guy with the waist of his trousers around his hips it made me smile and think of the men in prisons and the baggy trousers they supposedly wore to give other men easy access to their butt holes.

"Yes, I did thanks, Will," I responded, trying not to grin too widely.

Webman had been worth every penny of the two hundred and fifty pounds I'd paid him.

All my life I'd dated big, tough men hoping that they would dominate me. I don't mean beat me up or brutalize me in any way; I just wanted them to take a masterful role in the bedroom. They had all turned out to be big softies, who held me as if they thought I would bruise like ripe fruit.

Skinny Webman had been far more aggressive than any of them and it had been a real turn-on. He hadn't taken off his costume though he must have gotten hotter and hotter as the night progressed. After he'd made me come once, he had flipped me over saying that he wanted to bite on my juicy ass. And had done so, making me squirm as he'd nibbled and kissed both cheeks before taking me from behind. He had given me another serious pummelling, but I had pushed back against him just as hard, tilting my ass up so that he could get as deep as possible inside me.

He had come only after I'd come again, wrapping his arms tightly around me and biting my shoulder, thankfully not hard enough to leave a lasting mark. I was seriously thinking of calling him again this weekend, although he had rimmed my virgin asshole before he'd left early the next morning and threatened to 'leather' it on his next visit, if he'd heard that I'd been a naughty girl again.

"I didn't forget your gift."

William's voice brought me back from my brief reminiscence as he handed me a small square box beautifully wrapped in expensive-looking pink paper.

"Thanks, Will."

My parents had sent me a cheque for a thousand pounds, but this was the only present I'd received for my birthday. I tried to save the paper, but I ripped it in my haste. I opened the box and gasped.

Inside lay a pair of pink velvet-covered handcuffs and a pair of nipple clamps.

"What the--?" I started.

"Those shouldn't leave marks on your wrists the way my belt did," William indicated the handcuffs before picking up the clamps and pressing open the ends to reveal their wickedly jagged teeth, "and these will leave my teeth free to bite on your clit."

"W-Will?" I spluttered.

"It's all there." He tossed an envelope onto my desk and walked casually back to his.

For the first time I noticed that below the distractingly high waist of his trousers, his buttocks were small, lightly muscled and perfectly formed.

He had thrown me completely by pretending to live miles from my house and then arriving later than promised--he could have been there in less than five minutes. And I'd even thought him a bit of a skinflint when he wouldn't allow me to call him a cab when he was leaving the next morning!

Belatedly I remembered the name which he proudly signed on every company letter or memo: William Warren Webster. WWW and a complete computer geek! Webman in every sense of the word!

Trying to contain my laughter and delight, I opened the envelope and found the crisp notes I'd paid him.

Then I looked up and caught his eye as he sat at his desk watching me, cocky and slightly triumphant.

He knew he had me.

The Webman had spun his web and caught me.

I was as helpless as a fly in his clutches.

*****

The End

© 2009 Lexy Harper