When you're into leather like I am, there's nothing more sexual, and enticing than the smell, the taste, the feel, and the sound of leather.
Sliding each leg into my tight leather pants, buttoning the tight leather shirt, and tucking it in. Pulling that belt as tight as it can go, and knotting the tie around my neck. Zipping up each side of the leather biker boots, sliding the vest over my shoulders and lastly, pushing my fingers into my gauntlet leather gloves.
Leaking a pool in my jock pouch just at the thought of this.
Finding myself on my knees, wrists held behind my back, and my head down waiting for Sir to begin his evening with his leather slut. His leather creaking as the only noise in the carpeted room. I want nothing more than to bend over and let him pull the zipper in the back of my pants down and shove his hard cock deep inside me to give me a warm load, but this isn't about what I want. My job, my goal, is to serve him and his needs. So I stay still.
He stands in front of me, putting his pouch mere inches from my nose, from my mouth, and the temptation is to reach out and lick it, but I don't have permission.
He reaches down, picks up my chin to look at him, his devilish smile looking back at me as I know he's about to use me in his own way for pleasure. Like most nights, my dick probably won't even come out, let alone cum.
He wraps the leather collar around my neck, leans over and secures the buckle, locking it in place. He grabs my hair and pulls my face back up towards his, his leather gloves gripping the follicles tightly as his other hand pushes two fingers into my mouth.
"Have you been a good little leather slut boy?"
I nod, and muster a "yes Sir," the best I can with a mouth full of fingers, focusing on sucking them slowly and worshipping that odor that gets me so excited.
He pulls his fingers out from my mouth, slicked with spit, and pushes my head down, exposing my back end, where he delivers a few slaps to each cheek.
"Thank you Sir." I get out.
"Good boy, worship my boots while you're down there."
He turns sideways and sits down on the bed, his leather making the delicious creak that black leather makes, his hands resting on his knees. I scoot sideways, and wrap my hands around the back of his left boot, running my tongue along the outer edge. Tasting that delicious shiny material around his feet sends shivers down my back.
He leans down, and unzips my pants in the back, exposing my cheeks and hole to the room. His fingers run along my crack, gently pushing on the hole, without entering it.
I continue my focus on his boot, running my tongue across the top of the boot, slowly working up the shaft, licking the logo of his name brand boots, when the sudden pressure of his finger pushes past my sphincter.
I moan, groan, and keep licking his boot while his fingers explore my bottom.
"Switch boots slut."
I switch to the other boot, "thank you Sir," and begin licking every inch of the size twelve boot, and he pushes an additional finger inside me.
