Tamra has seen him in the leather store before. He scares her, because of the intensity of his gaze. His eyebrows are dark and thick above eyes that are so brown she can’t see his pupils, and when he looks at her, she has trouble meeting his eyes for long.
And yet, she would be disappointed if he weren’t there when she went in. When he looks at her, she feels a tingling deep in her belly like the nervousness of a roller coaster ride, and her knees tremble with a need she can’t name.
Tonight is the western-themed party at her husband’s office, and though she hates western wear, hates offices parties and at times hates her husband, she is here in the leather store to buy an outfit. She had originally gone to a western store and flipped through plaid skirts, snap-collar shirts, ugly boots, uglier hats. But when she saw the mannequin, looking exactly like the cowboy from the Village People, she got the idea. Leather chaps. She didn’t need anything else. She could wear her tight jeans and her little white spaghetti-strap tank top. And chaps.
Her hands shake slightly as she looks through the rack of chaps, because she feels his gaze on her. The smell of the leather surrounds her, intoxicating her with a scent that has always been erotic. It fills her nostrils and seems to be a direct link to vagina. She inhales deeply and feels her pussy clench, as though it knows the sensuousness of the material.
She picks out a pair of supple black leather chaps and heads to the dressing room. She knows that he is watching her, watching the swing of her hips in her jeans and the sweep of her long blonde hair across her back. She's glad he's watching her, even though she won't examine what it is that draws her to him, nor what it is that makes her leave the dressing room door unlocked behind her.
She pulls the chaps on over her jeans and twists around so she can see how they look from the back. She has always been turned on by the way chaps frame the ass, and she thinks they look good on her. Her ass is good, tight and high, the crunches, lunges and leg lifts paying off.
These jeans, though, aren't as tight as the ones she’ll wear tonight with the chaps, and so she doesn’t know if they’ll fit right or not. She doesn't want the chaps to be too large. She takes the chaps off, slides off her jeans, and pulls the chaps back on. She smiles at herself in the mirror. The chaps frame her ass and the single white strand of her thong as it nestles in her ass.
She rotates her hips a little, watching the movement. She has become obsessed lately with her ass. She doesn't know where the obsession started, but she likes looking at her ass, and just lately she has begun playing with it in the shower. At first, it was just the simple act of slipping a soapy finger into her anus, not far up it, just enough. Then she began sliding it in and out, finger fucking her asshole until her pussy throbbed with excitement.
But that was only the beginning. A few days later, Tamra had found herself – as though she had had no active will or participation in the act – walking into the adult superstore down the street from her office. She had walked in with the studied nonchalance and breeziness of the person who isn't as free as what she might pretend to be. She had stood for quite some time in front of the anal toys section. How exactly did one go about selecting one? The “beginner” butt plugs looked too small – her finger was wider than these. But some of them were so large that they made her blush just to look at them, even as they made her ass clench with the thought of being split by one.
She at last had settled on a medium butt plug, purple, non-vibrating, two widths, suction-cupped at the bottom in case she wanted to practice lowering herself onto it.
She sighs as she looks at her ass in the mirror, lifting her cheek a little to expose her hole when she pulls her thong to the side. She wishes she had her butt plug with her now. She wishes she didn't have to go to the party tonight, so that she could stay home and play with herself. She wishes she were married to a man who could sexually please her.
And then she sees movement in the mirror. Without warning, he slips into the dressing room. The sight of her ass stops him for a moment, and she thrills to his gaze devouring the promise of her nakedness. She doesn't turn around, doesn't cover her nudity, doesn't protest his presence in her dressing room. He comes up behind her as she faces the mirror and puts his arms around her, one hand close to her mouth in case she makes a noise. His dick pushes up against her exposed ass, and she can feel how big he is, feel the power in his cock, even through his jeans. She whimpers, just a slight sound in the back of her throat, and lightly pushes her ass closer to him.
He pulls her tank top down, exposing her nipples to her own view in the mirror. He rubs them roughly – pinching them, pulling them, stretching them – and he pushes her against the mirror until her tits are flattened against the cool glass.
His hand roams over her ass and then slips between her thighs. His fingers pull aside the scrap of cloth, and he strokes her bare pussy lips.
She wants to scream because he frightens her, but she's afraid if she makes a sound, he'll stop, and the sensation in her pussy ensures her silence as much as his hand close to her mouth does. And with hardly knowing what she’s doing, she licks the palm of his hand.
He puts his fingers in her mouth, and she sucks them as though she were sucking his dick, and she feels him grow harder at her ass.
He grinds it on her, one hand still caressing her wet pussy lips, pinching and pulling them. His fingers find her clit and he rubs the nub, circling it before slipping his finger in her slit, then returning to her bud. He squeezes it between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her to the edge of pain and then pleasure with every touch.
And then she feels the flesh of his cock against her ass. Almost against her will, her legs separate for him. He rubs his cock along her ass crack, dipping into her sopping pussy until it’s slick with her juices.
“Please,” she whispers, her breath creating little steam marks on the mirror in front of her.
He moves her hair away from her ear and bends his head toward hers. “Please what?” he whispers into her ear, causing chills to break out on her skin.
But she doesn't know if she can say the words or not. Her husband has never even liked her to say “fuck me” during sex, and her habit of reticence silences her.
He wraps his fist in her hair and pulls it gently but firmly until her head is leaning back against him. He grazes her neck with his teeth and bites lightly, with perhaps the promise of harder bites to come.
“Please what?” he whispers again.
She pushes her ass back into his cock, her desire suddenly overwhelming.
He moves his hand from her pussy to her ass. He teases along her crack and then circles his finger around her anus. He allows his finger to rest on her hole for a moment, and she feels her body beginning to twitch with anticipation, with the utter need to have him in her ass.
“Please what?”
“Fuck my ass,” she whispers.
He takes his cock and guides it to her asshole, teases it. “This is where you want it?”
“Yes,” she says and hears the hint of begging in her voice.
“I don't think so,” he says as he plunges his cock into her dripping pussy.
She almost whimpers with the disappointment of not having him in her ass, but he pushes into her pussy and her lips close around him and his hand squeezes her clit as he pumps her, and she pushes back to meet his thrusts.
“I will take your ass,” he says, “but I want your cunt first. I'll take your ass the next time we meet. And then I'll take your mouth. Your body will belong to me when I'm done.”
As he speaks, he pinches her clit, twists it, and she feels the tingle in her clit growing. Her breath comes in short gasps, and the heat from her bud suddenly fires through her, flooding her already-wet pussy with cum.
He thrusts into her hard, repeatedly, and she can feel his balls slapping up against her. His hand massages her sore clit as he pounds her.
And when he cums, his hot cream filling her pussy hole, their combined juices fill the palm of his hand.
He stands still for a moment, letting himself empty into her. He then brings his hand to her mouth. She greedily sucks his cum mingled with hers from his palm and his fingers. She's never tasted herself before, and she's amazed at the sweetness of her own cum.
He pulls out of her pussy, and she feels the sudden emptiness like a wound.
“Lick me clean,” he commands her.
She turns and drops to her knees, his slick cock in front of her face. Her tongue flicks over his cock, but when she tries to take him in her mouth, he pulls away. “Just lick it,” he says. “I want you to suck it tonight after I've fucked your ass.”
Tonight. There's promise in the word, and she wonders if he knows more about her than she thinks.
But she lets the question go in order to focus on cleaning his cock. She has always loved having a dick in her mouth, and she can't wait until he lets her suck him.
And then she's alone with nothing more than the promise of tonight.
* * *
The party is everything Tamra had feared it would be. Her husband's boss – an obese matron with daddy issues – wears a flouncy square-dancing skirt and a white peasant blouse with the elastic bands clutching her upper arms like pythons. Co-workers wear various combinations of flannel and plaid-patterned cotton. Cowboy hats abound, as do fake horses, fake mustaches, and real alligator boots.
Tamra floats through it all in a daze. She can still feel the stranger's hands on her body, his cock in her pussy. If she thinks about it, her pussy spasms a little with remembered sensation, and she feels herself growing wet. She tries not to think about it, because she isn't wearing panties, and she doesn't want to get the crotch of her jeans wet. But thinking about her wet cunt is much more preferable than listening to the grating country music.
She wanders upstairs where the music is less prevalent, and she leans against the balcony's rail to overlook the line-dancing below.
She senses his presence behind her before she feels him massage her ass.
“How did you know where I'd be?” she whispers, half afraid that he might be an illusion, a fantasy that will disappear if she speaks too loudly.
“I've watched you for a long time.”
“But the party ...”
He squeezes her ass, and her pussy lips clench together, wishing his fingers were working inside her again. “I sold your husband the vest he's wearing. He told me about the party. Let's just say that it pleases me to make him look ridiculous. And it pleases me to take his wife right under his nose.”
He leans over the balcony railing. “Or maybe above it, as the case may be.”
“You can't. Not here.”
He rubs her ass through her jeans and lets his hand slid between her legs to rub her crotch. “I can't? You will be mine, Tamra. Every part of you.”
He unfastens her jeans, and she feels a tiny squirrel of panic in her stomach. “They'll see.”
“They might,” he admits. “In that case, they'll see a woman being pleasured as she's never been pleasured before.”
He pushes her jeans down over her hips, leaving the chaps intact on her thighs, and the air-conditioned air brushing over her bald pussy lips raises chill bumps.
“Bend over,” he commands. “Spread your ass cheeks for me.”
Without even really knowing why, she obeys him and opens her most private of parts to his examination. He bends down, and she feels his breath against her ass.
His tongue runs along her cheeks, and she moans with the feeling that clutches at her. And when his tongue darts out to touch the area around her anus, she becomes so lightheaded she has to lean against the railing for support.
His spit slicks her asshole. She relaxes her muscles, hoping that soon he will slide a finger in her. She lets everything else fall away from her consciousness – her husband somewhere below, the awful music, the fact that someone could walk by and see her exposed – in order to focus on the sensations emanating from her asshole and her pussy. The bud of her clit has become hard, and she anxiously awaits his touch.
He takes his thumb and presses it against her anus. Then, just when she thinks she will scream from the longing she feels, he pushes his thumb into her anus At the same time, his fingers massage her pussy lips and her clit. Pussy juices coat his hand, and he pulls the wetness to her ass, working into her anus with every push of his thumb.
He pulls his thumb out of her then, flicking it out as though it had been in his mouth, and it makes a wet popping noise when it comes out. She wants to cry in the sudden emptiness she feels, but he doesn't leave her empty for long and keeps rubbing her juices along her rim.
Just when she thinks she can't take any more teasing, he takes his dick, so massive and hard, and places it at her opening. He pushes in slowly at first, and she thinks she just might rip in two. But then suddenly, he is past the barrier and driving in her.
She has never felt so full, and the intensity undoes her. She quivers under the weight of his body as he thrusts into her and spasms as his hand continues to work on her clit. She is close to coming with his hands on her and her ass full of his cock.
He pushes hard into her and she feels his balls, tight and large, slap against her pussy lips. She needs him to cum in her, fill her ass with his semen, mix his cum with hers.
The sensation of his hand on her pussy heats up. The tingle builds until she must either cum or die. It is a different feeling than when he had fucked her pussy. Then, it had built slowly and her orgasm had blossomed from her clit, warmth spreading through her. This time, with his cock fucking her ass and his fingers working her pussy, she knew it would explode from her in a sudden rush.
He takes his other hand and clamps it over her mouth. He drives his cock hard into her ass. His fingers pinch her clit at the same time, and she screams as she cums, his hand muffling the sound.. Her pussy leaks juices down her bare legs, and she squeezes her pussy and ass tight. Her asshole is full of his cock, and she tightens her muscles in order to milk him better.
When he cums, she feels the heat of him draining into her even as her pussy still throbs with the spasms of her own cumming.
He turns her to face him, and she knows that if anyone on the floor below looks up, they will see her exposed ass with his cum dripping out of it. She knows that she looks like a slut. His slut.
“Lick it off,” he commands. And because she is his slut now, with his cum dripping out of her ass onto the floor and her pussy on fire from where he has pinched her, she obeys. She tastes his cum and knows that the next time, she will take all of it in her mouth. It is the only place he hasn't yet claimed.
When she finishes licking the cum from his cock, he raises her to her feet and kisses her.
“Come to the store next week,” he whispers in her ear. “I've got some leather whips I know you'll like.”
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