Leather 2

She was glutton for pain. That much was obvious. The things he had done to the unassuming woman were proof enough for that.

Yet that pain in and of itself wasn't enough; spanking her, twisting her nipples, whipping her, binding her was just part of it.. The real turn on for her was being used like a Kleenex, being bawled into a wad and thrown away.

He understood it the way an observer did, detached and clinical. He couldn't see why anyone would want to be degraded, taken advantage of or thrown away; he only understood that some did. He had gone through all three in his life, to more extremes than most and nothing about those circumstance engendered a need for those things to happen again.

The irony of his profession though was not lost to him.

The Slumberland Motel on 17-92 was the type of place that rented by hour. It had peeling wallpaper, a less than hygienic looking comforter of beige pulled over a squeaky old bed. The carpet, which the owners dutifully cleaned, still retained the odd spread of a stain that he did not want to identify. A AC unit droned under curtains with floral patterns that looked as if they belonged on a sofa.

On the bed was a middle-aged Asian woman, her hands and ankles bound to a length of wood that forced her rear end in the air and her face into the bed. She was petite but curvy the only indication of her age being the silver that threaded her waist length hair. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold and the ball gag made her breath come out hard and desperate threw her nose.

He had done no less than what she asked for whenever she asked for him. She was one of his best clients. She didn't ask his name. Didn't want to know where he was from. Didn't want to fall in love with him.

So they had gotten to the point where they weren't using condoms. It was against the Man in Black's policy but she showed him the test, every other month as did he. Plus, he charged her outrageously for the privilege.

He walked towards the bed and he could see her tense expectantly. The Man in Black pulled her by the wooden bar with no ceremony, noticing he didn't have to coerce an erection, and pushed past her swollen labia. She grunted and he couldn't tell if it was in pleasure or pain.

"You fuckin' slut." He yanked her head back with a fist full of hair. "Pussy dry as fuck but as soon as a dick's in it, you wet." He didn't like to affect the dominant-ghetto-black-man persona and speak so vulgarly but she was the customer. "Already fuckin' cummin' too."

She groaned louder and by the soft light of the lamp, he could see spittle shine on the garish, plastic ball as the leather of its straps bit into her cheeks. He wasn't actually doing the woman justice. She was more than wet. She was hot and dripping, her cum white and thick on his cock. He loved when women creamed; it was closest thing to a fetish he had and he tried not to get lost in the warmth of her sex.

He pushed his thumb into her ass. She growled and jerked in response.

"Shut up bitch. Like you don't like that shit..."  And she did. She had playfully said she liked to be fucked more in her ass than her pussy and he was inclined to believe her. She squeezed her anus around his finger, at the same time doing so with walls of her vagina. Her devotion to kegel  exercise bordered on the religious and it caught him by surprise that she could tighten so dramatically.

Older women always knew how to fuck better. Not because they were classy or more attractive. They just got over the bullshit younger women did when it came to it.

He didn't feel ashamed that he was spitting his seed into her. It made him fuck her that much harder as he did, the wetness of her sex making squishy sounds as he brought her to a thrashing orgasm of his own.

He pulled out of her, wet with her lust. The Man in Black spread her cheeks.

"Push it out." He slapped her buttocks hard enough to leave a hand print in its flesh. "I wanna see that shit." She did as she asked and it oozed out of her like icing out of a frosting bag, dripping down her slit.

"Good job bitch. I'll be back."

It didn't take him long to wash off and make himself presentable again. In his line of work, one figured out the necessity of cleaning one's body quickly early.

Now in a suit, ink black from tie to loafers, he set out to get have a bite at the IHOP down the road, leaving his client as she was, spent, used, with cum dripping from her cunt. This was only hour one and he had two hours to go.

He didn't understand the allure of being left in the dark like she was but then people probably wouldn't understand why someone like him would do that to her.










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