The Chelmsford Stalker
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Lesson For A Fetish Stalker free porn video
I had just parked my car on the 5th floor of the car park when I saw in the rear-view mirror how a lady, dressed entirely in black nappa leather, got out of the Mercedes behind me. Wearing a fitted leather blazer, gloves and tight leather trousers, she strutted along the corridor on the probably 10 cm high heels of her knee-length leather boots. Strictly tied back long black hair framed her beautifully cut, stylishly made-up face, whose dark glowing eyes sparkled. In her mid-40s her body was estimated to be slim and well-proportioned. No question about it, there was no lady staggering around who occasionally wore leather for fashion reasons. It was a real leather goddess, who now walked past my car and towards the staircase! I cheered, armed the camera of my mobile phone and got out.
Yes, when autumn arrives, a wonderful time begins for me as an avowed leather fetishist. The ladies fetch their leather gear out of their closets again, put on their high boots and stroll through the big cities. I am lucky enough to live in a particularly stylish metropolis, and walking along the glamorous shopping miles often turns into an erotic outdoor adventure for me. I am magically drawn to the sight of leather ladies, especially when, like the goddess in front of me, they wear high heeled boots and tight leather trousers that snuggle tightly around their buttocks with every step. If at all possible I would try to take a snapshot or two of her using my mobile phone. Since a quarter of people today play around with their mobile phones when strolling through town anyway, I hope she wouldn't notice. And a certain kick finally increases the attraction of the forbidden.
At home I would then look at the pictures with pleasure, work on my cock and in pleasant memory of this leather lady whom I just admired in life and in colour, I would probably cum more than once violently - a harmless pleasure that hurts nobody and gave me wonderful exits.
In the tightly coiled staircase I was able to enjoy her sight from an elevated position at first. Despite the high heels, she managed the five floors gracefully. No question, this lady merged with her heels. I had to smile when a security man at the foot of the stairs almost jumped to the side and pressed himself against the wall with a surprised "Oh!" to let the leather lady pass. Her sight had to be even more imperious from the front than from the back. My pulse was racing.
As she stepped out of the car park, she turned purposefully to the left - and thus, to my displeasure, away from the dizzying pedestrian zone and towards smaller streets with the exclusive shops. I should have guessed that this lady was not interested in the offer of Swedish or Spanish clothing chains, but was heading for the sophisticated shop windows. That made my undertaking much more difficult, because the density of the stream of passers-by here abruptly stopped. But what was the point, I couldn't just let this leather goddess go! I quickly tried to take the first pictures before she turned the corner.
She was obviously in no hurry, slowly stepping out. My gaze was drawn to her slim leather legs, to her shapely leather bottom, my ear enjoyed the click of her heels on the pavement. Her slow pace forced me to a kind of alternating step: quickly take a photo, then fall back, stalk, take another photo, and let me fall back again. I saw how she turned her head halfway. Had she already noticed me with my strange jumping around? Suddenly she stopped and gave me a searching look from her dark eyes. I tore my mobile phone to my ear, pretended to be on the phone, rushed past her quickly, spurred to the nearby street corner and hoped not to lose her.
She actually turned around the corner behind me, I said "See you later" into the phone and carefully resumed the pursuit. First sweat ran down my neck. Again she stopped in front of a shop window, I had to pass and squeezed into the doorway of an art gallery to let her pass. The situation became more and more difficult. If I stepped outside now, my behaviour only became more suspicious. Out of the safe darkness I watched as she looked across the street at the displays of a jewellery shop, ran up to the next corner, waited there and pretended to type a message into my mobile phone. Now as she walked towards me, I gathered all my courage, straightened up my smartphone and took a frontal picture. As I lowered the phone, her hard look pierced me and I turned away trembling. Even though my picture yield was meagre, I felt that I had to stop the action. I was burnt. In the movies another agent would now take over the pursuit, I was completely on my own. So I stayed behind her at a proper distance. As she studied the advertisements of a real estate agent, I delved into the offers of the window behind her and yet I felt... yes, I felt her long look at me... I could feel her head shaking from the corner of my eye... Anyway, it was only a few metres to the rescuing hustle and bustle of the busy market place where I could immerse myself in the crowd. Breathing a sigh of relief, I dared to overtake her... and was suddenly pulled by the arm under the canopy of a shop window!
"Wait a minute, laddie! You're not going to run away now, are you?" Her face was very close to mine. She spoke threateningly soft and in a dark voice. "What is this? Do you think I don't notice that you've been slaving away behind me all the time, taking pictures?
"Pictures? I..., ahem... no... maybe I just... just happened to be on the same path as you...", I stammered and felt how incredible that must sound.
She responded to my excuse with a quiet, sneering laugh, grabbed my hand and turned it around. The mobile was still in photo mode and you could see the last snapshot I had taken of her as a preview. I broke out cold sweat.
"I knew it. You are a rotten little stalker. What do you do with the pictures at home, huh? Are you jerking off or what? Come on, tell me. Why are you taking my picture?
I was paralysed, the world around me disappeared into nirvana, other passers-by were suddenly light years away. All that remained was the truth. "Because you wear leather. I am a fetishist. And when I see such a perfect woman in leather, I can't help it, I have to follow her..."
"You can't help it? I can't believe it! Listen, pal, I obviously have to teach you a lesson."
"Please, what...?" I threw in a mild panic.
"You have two choices," she continued unmoved. "Either you follow me back to the car park and I'll give you a good going over... Or I'll make a big scene here and now, screaming that you stalked and grabbed me and I'll really stress you out. Understand? Your decision!" she grinned cynically.
"I'll follow you, I'll follow you", I pushed out.
"Good. And don't you dare try to run away. I have a very loud organ! Go!"
She turned around, I followed her with my head bowed. Between the rescued bank of the market place and me was now the Grand Canyon. My brain was spinning, panic was rising. And yet I followed this woman as if pulled by an invisible thread. I was at the mercy of the situation, I could only wait and see what would happen. And at least I didn't have to follow her inconspicuously any more, but was able to follow her heels obediently.
In front of the lifts there was a crowd of people waiting. So she climbed the stairs again, and I stared at her perfect leather bottom and bossy boots from the shortest distance. If I was going down, then I wanted to savour my downfall. I began to enjoy the situation a little - until she finally caught a lift on the second floor. No sooner had she dragged me inside and the door closed than she pushed me against the lift wall and started a loud rant: What I could think of, what a rotten little peeping Tom I was, whether I would think I could get away with it just like that... And she looked me straight in the eye. Her knee shot forward without a hitch - and hit my balls in a perfect angle. Tears welled up in my eyes, I wrinkled, pressed my face against the cool glass wall of the lift. The couple coming down the stairs didn't notice me. I was trapped. In every way...
When we reached the 5th floor, she pushed me out the door. I stalled after her towards her car. The parking deck up here was only filled with a few cars. A young couple had just taken their pram out of the boot and rolled towards the lift. Her black Mercedes was at the far end of the parking area. The outer wall here was not open, a concrete wall protected from curious glances from the office tower opposite. She pushed me into the niche between the body and the wall, opened the passenger door, thus depriving me of the possibility to escape and preventing anybody from looking into my prison. It stanks
I sank to my knees. Stuttering apologies. Asked for leniency. It would not happen again. Etc, etc..
"So, and I am to believe you?" she laughed from the passenger seat. "Do you think I don't notice you staring at my boots as you stammer? Come on, this is what you want, isn't it? Come on, just look at them!"
I crawled closer, my gaze fixed firmly on her wonderfully tight, high leather boots, which continued almost without a trace in the equally tight leather trousers. So close to the sky. But she wouldn't really ...? Would she...?
She grabbed the back of my head with her leather gloved hand and pressed my face into the sky. "Go on, lick it! Lick all the street dirt off my boots. Get your tongue out, I want to feel it!"
I didn't need to be told twice. With big, firm strokes I licked over the smooth leather, kissed the tips of the boots, ran up and down the shaft, was suddenly impudently close to this leather goddess, cleaned her wonderful boots with my tongue and forgot for a moment what a threatening situation I was in... until I looked up and into the lens of her mobile phone camera. SHE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME! And not just from behind and maybe half blurred, like I was taking them, no, clear and direct, with an open face, from the front!
"What...? What is this...? Stop... photographing me!", I protested, pressed.
Her slaps threw my head alternately to the right and left. Although they were carried out with cool gloved hands, my cheeks were burning. Two more. To the right. Left. And before I had recovered from the painful surprise, her spit was already sticking to my skin and running into my mouth, which was half open in amazement. Without responding to my protest, she took the next photo of my confused face, its cheeks burning red and shining from her saliva.
"So now the other boot! Soon!" She crossed her legs and before I could get a clear thought, I licked the second boot as if by remote control. Who is that woman? - it flashed through my mind. It was certainly not the first time she slapped a man. Her kick in my balls was perfect. And I certainly wasn't the first to greedily go for her boots as if to devour them. Her instructions were too clear, too self-evident for that...
"Who are you?" I asked whisperingly after I had cleaned every square inch of her left boot intensively. "Who are you?" I looked at her.
"I am the woman you should have met long ago! Who puts an end to your stalking. And with you using women who don't know anything about it as wank templates in your dirty pad. Open your mouth!
I opened my mouth. Watched this incredibly beautiful, bossy woman collect the saliva in her mouth, bend down to me and then spit a good portion into my mouth. It tasted delicious. I swallowed it all and opened my mouth greedily again. Even if I would never stalk again, never jerk off to strange women again, I wanted to swallow as much of the juice from inside this leather goddess as possible... as much as I could... She seemed to sense my greed and actually rewarded me with another portion that I licked off my lips...
"Now get up here! Undo your pants! Let me see your cock. Show me how you jerk off to strange leather women in your bower at home. Come on!"
I thought to myself, "Oh, fuck". I straightened up my upper body, opened my jeans and let them slip into the back of my knees. My half hard cock became visible... There sat an absolute leather dream goddess in front of me, and my friend was teetering around half-right. Jesus Christ! Who would be able to show a hard club in this stress! To be chased back and forth between heaven and hell by an unknown person in a lift every minute with a fat boner? Besides, I was in my mid-50s and I was kneeling here like a schoolboy in pigeon dirt...
She was amused. "Oh, so that's how it is... You can't get it up anymore... You can't satisfy women anymore... That's why you walk around the city, take pictures and jerk off on them at home with your limp noodle... Nobody looks... pathetic... really pathetic! Come on, jerk him off hard for me! Now a leather goddess sits before you. Come on, show me how horny you get.
She heaved herself out of the leather seat of her car and built herself up in full splendour directly in front of me. All I could see was leather, leather, leather. Black. Shiny. Seductive. My head exactly in line with her crotch. Leather stretching tightly over her centre. 20 centimetres away. I moaned. My tongue leapt forward. My cock straightened up. Both uncontrollably twitching. I started. She laughed. Slowly turning her pelvis. Turned her bottom towards me. Perfection in tightest leather, shining in neon light. Never was I so close to paradise. And it was getting closer. Closer. I put a careful kiss on her buttocks, one more and one more. Jerking off like an idiot. Felt how quickly I would cum, even though my cock had just been half limp. But this was too much. My pelvis tightened. The orgasm was approaching. "Oh my God... yeah, yeah... I'll be right there... I'll squirt it all out... for you... yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!" I moaned half-loud.
Abruptly she turned around. Grabbed my chin with her hand and forced me to look into her eyes. The slaps just rushed down on me. Harder and harder this time. I was in free fall. Sank down into me. "Up you go" she hissed, ripped up my jumper, grabbed my nipples with her leather fingers and pinched them shut. Pain ran through me. I bit my tongue to avoid screaming. Threw my head back into the neck.
"That's what you think, laddie, that you're allowed to come here. Just jerking off to a strange woman in leather, eh?" I could feel the next load of her spit slapping my face. "Do you think I'm fair game just because I wear leather?"
"No, but if you walk around town dressed all in leather, you must expect to drive a fetishist crazy. There's no other way," I whimpered. "So much leather. So tight. You make me addicted. I can't help but... follow you!" I became snotty, angry that she had robbed me of what might have been the hottest shot
"Well, now it strikes thirteen! Your fetishism is not my problem! I just wear what I feel like wearing. Do I have to get stalked by you because of that or what?"
"No, but..."
"But nothing! I don't want you to use me as a jerk-off tool at home just because you loser can't get hard anymore!
"But I'm not going to use you. That's just... a tribute I'm paying you, an offer of marriage... if I sacrifice my sperm at home..."
"I'd be honored if you'd jerk off on me." She reached into the car and nailed a bag. "I'm not going to listen to this bullshit anymore!" She waved a black thong in front of my face with the price tag still on it. "Open your mouth!"
I did what she told me to do and she stuffed her panties in my mouth. Then I felt her toe of her boot under my balls and kicked in. A dull pain wafted through my pelvis and the rest of my erection collapsed. Gurgling sounds of pain were suffocated by her panties in my mouth. Her mobile phone took a close-up. My panicked, distorted grimace, my gagged mouth, the tip of her boot under my balls. Then her face was above me. Close. Very close. Menacing and dark.
"So that we understand each other once and for all: You will never, ever, ever get the idea to stalk a woman again. You will dare to ever again secretly take pictures. And you will refrain from ever again playing around with an unknown woman on your cock. Do we understand each other?" As if to be on the safe side, she grabbed my tail root with her leather hand, grabbed my balls and pulled my pelvis towards her with a practiced grip. With her other hand she grabbed my bottom and pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. When she let go of me, I sank to the cold concrete floor in a mixture of pain, dizziness and fear. She turned my head to one side with the sole of her shoe and pressed my cheek against the dirty concrete. The pungent stench of pigeon droppings rose up my nose. As if through cotton wool I heard her continue to talk above me.
"Well, what have we here... 300 €, I'll take that as compensation for my pain..." I heard the crackling of the notes rubbing against her leather fingers. I did not care. With 300 € I would have paid this lesson cheaply... "And here... Your business card, wonderful, it will be useful for me...!" I awoke suddenly from my trance, my cells were flooded with adrenalin. My body wanted to startle up, but the sole of her boot held its position so persistently that my jaw cracked and I couldn't move my head an inch. My pelvis twitched helplessly with my pants down. She bent down towards me. Her voice was cold as ice. Sweat was dripping from my forehead.
"If I ever catch you not following my instructions, these pictures will end up on your boss' desk.Believe me, I have my eyes and ears all over this city. I will take you down. I will ruin your life. You are finished." She took the sole of her shoe off my cheek - and again I looked into her mobile phone camera, which was taking pictures of me lying on the ground as a worm. "I think that will be enough. I'll send you the pictures via WhatsApp in the next few days if you have a new mobile phone. So you can see what I have on you…"
"New mobile phone... but why?" I whispered with a dry mouth after she had pulled out her panties with pointed leather fingers.
"Well, this...", she waved my smartphone. She must have plucked it out of my jacket pocket at some point, unnoticed. "I don't suppose you'll be needing this silly little thing any more..." She dropped the device, in which half of my life was stored, on the floor in front of me. Before I realised, the heel of her boot had already shattered the display with a creaking sound. All the displays went out... "NOOOOO...!!!!" cried a voice from inside me, but I couldn't make a sound...
"I hope you understood your lesson, you pathetic wanker!" she said in an almost soft voice. I heard her close the passenger door, walk around her car, get in and drive away. She left me with my pants down, covered in dove droppings, spit and tears...
Yes, when autumn arrives, a wonderful time begins for me as an avowed leather fetishist. The ladies fetch their leather gear out of their closets again, put on their high boots and stroll through the big cities. I am lucky enough to live in a particularly stylish metropolis, and walking along the glamorous shopping miles often turns into an erotic outdoor adventure for me. I am magically drawn to the sight of leather ladies, especially when, like the goddess in front of me, they wear high heeled boots and tight leather trousers that snuggle tightly around their buttocks with every step. If at all possible I would try to take a snapshot or two of her using my mobile phone. Since a quarter of people today play around with their mobile phones when strolling through town anyway, I hope she wouldn't notice. And a certain kick finally increases the attraction of the forbidden.
At home I would then look at the pictures with pleasure, work on my cock and in pleasant memory of this leather lady whom I just admired in life and in colour, I would probably cum more than once violently - a harmless pleasure that hurts nobody and gave me wonderful exits.
In the tightly coiled staircase I was able to enjoy her sight from an elevated position at first. Despite the high heels, she managed the five floors gracefully. No question, this lady merged with her heels. I had to smile when a security man at the foot of the stairs almost jumped to the side and pressed himself against the wall with a surprised "Oh!" to let the leather lady pass. Her sight had to be even more imperious from the front than from the back. My pulse was racing.
As she stepped out of the car park, she turned purposefully to the left - and thus, to my displeasure, away from the dizzying pedestrian zone and towards smaller streets with the exclusive shops. I should have guessed that this lady was not interested in the offer of Swedish or Spanish clothing chains, but was heading for the sophisticated shop windows. That made my undertaking much more difficult, because the density of the stream of passers-by here abruptly stopped. But what was the point, I couldn't just let this leather goddess go! I quickly tried to take the first pictures before she turned the corner.
She was obviously in no hurry, slowly stepping out. My gaze was drawn to her slim leather legs, to her shapely leather bottom, my ear enjoyed the click of her heels on the pavement. Her slow pace forced me to a kind of alternating step: quickly take a photo, then fall back, stalk, take another photo, and let me fall back again. I saw how she turned her head halfway. Had she already noticed me with my strange jumping around? Suddenly she stopped and gave me a searching look from her dark eyes. I tore my mobile phone to my ear, pretended to be on the phone, rushed past her quickly, spurred to the nearby street corner and hoped not to lose her.
She actually turned around the corner behind me, I said "See you later" into the phone and carefully resumed the pursuit. First sweat ran down my neck. Again she stopped in front of a shop window, I had to pass and squeezed into the doorway of an art gallery to let her pass. The situation became more and more difficult. If I stepped outside now, my behaviour only became more suspicious. Out of the safe darkness I watched as she looked across the street at the displays of a jewellery shop, ran up to the next corner, waited there and pretended to type a message into my mobile phone. Now as she walked towards me, I gathered all my courage, straightened up my smartphone and took a frontal picture. As I lowered the phone, her hard look pierced me and I turned away trembling. Even though my picture yield was meagre, I felt that I had to stop the action. I was burnt. In the movies another agent would now take over the pursuit, I was completely on my own. So I stayed behind her at a proper distance. As she studied the advertisements of a real estate agent, I delved into the offers of the window behind her and yet I felt... yes, I felt her long look at me... I could feel her head shaking from the corner of my eye... Anyway, it was only a few metres to the rescuing hustle and bustle of the busy market place where I could immerse myself in the crowd. Breathing a sigh of relief, I dared to overtake her... and was suddenly pulled by the arm under the canopy of a shop window!
"Wait a minute, laddie! You're not going to run away now, are you?" Her face was very close to mine. She spoke threateningly soft and in a dark voice. "What is this? Do you think I don't notice that you've been slaving away behind me all the time, taking pictures?
"Pictures? I..., ahem... no... maybe I just... just happened to be on the same path as you...", I stammered and felt how incredible that must sound.
She responded to my excuse with a quiet, sneering laugh, grabbed my hand and turned it around. The mobile was still in photo mode and you could see the last snapshot I had taken of her as a preview. I broke out cold sweat.
"I knew it. You are a rotten little stalker. What do you do with the pictures at home, huh? Are you jerking off or what? Come on, tell me. Why are you taking my picture?
I was paralysed, the world around me disappeared into nirvana, other passers-by were suddenly light years away. All that remained was the truth. "Because you wear leather. I am a fetishist. And when I see such a perfect woman in leather, I can't help it, I have to follow her..."
"You can't help it? I can't believe it! Listen, pal, I obviously have to teach you a lesson."
"Please, what...?" I threw in a mild panic.
"You have two choices," she continued unmoved. "Either you follow me back to the car park and I'll give you a good going over... Or I'll make a big scene here and now, screaming that you stalked and grabbed me and I'll really stress you out. Understand? Your decision!" she grinned cynically.
"I'll follow you, I'll follow you", I pushed out.
"Good. And don't you dare try to run away. I have a very loud organ! Go!"
She turned around, I followed her with my head bowed. Between the rescued bank of the market place and me was now the Grand Canyon. My brain was spinning, panic was rising. And yet I followed this woman as if pulled by an invisible thread. I was at the mercy of the situation, I could only wait and see what would happen. And at least I didn't have to follow her inconspicuously any more, but was able to follow her heels obediently.
In front of the lifts there was a crowd of people waiting. So she climbed the stairs again, and I stared at her perfect leather bottom and bossy boots from the shortest distance. If I was going down, then I wanted to savour my downfall. I began to enjoy the situation a little - until she finally caught a lift on the second floor. No sooner had she dragged me inside and the door closed than she pushed me against the lift wall and started a loud rant: What I could think of, what a rotten little peeping Tom I was, whether I would think I could get away with it just like that... And she looked me straight in the eye. Her knee shot forward without a hitch - and hit my balls in a perfect angle. Tears welled up in my eyes, I wrinkled, pressed my face against the cool glass wall of the lift. The couple coming down the stairs didn't notice me. I was trapped. In every way...
When we reached the 5th floor, she pushed me out the door. I stalled after her towards her car. The parking deck up here was only filled with a few cars. A young couple had just taken their pram out of the boot and rolled towards the lift. Her black Mercedes was at the far end of the parking area. The outer wall here was not open, a concrete wall protected from curious glances from the office tower opposite. She pushed me into the niche between the body and the wall, opened the passenger door, thus depriving me of the possibility to escape and preventing anybody from looking into my prison. It stanks
I sank to my knees. Stuttering apologies. Asked for leniency. It would not happen again. Etc, etc..
"So, and I am to believe you?" she laughed from the passenger seat. "Do you think I don't notice you staring at my boots as you stammer? Come on, this is what you want, isn't it? Come on, just look at them!"
I crawled closer, my gaze fixed firmly on her wonderfully tight, high leather boots, which continued almost without a trace in the equally tight leather trousers. So close to the sky. But she wouldn't really ...? Would she...?
She grabbed the back of my head with her leather gloved hand and pressed my face into the sky. "Go on, lick it! Lick all the street dirt off my boots. Get your tongue out, I want to feel it!"
I didn't need to be told twice. With big, firm strokes I licked over the smooth leather, kissed the tips of the boots, ran up and down the shaft, was suddenly impudently close to this leather goddess, cleaned her wonderful boots with my tongue and forgot for a moment what a threatening situation I was in... until I looked up and into the lens of her mobile phone camera. SHE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME! And not just from behind and maybe half blurred, like I was taking them, no, clear and direct, with an open face, from the front!
"What...? What is this...? Stop... photographing me!", I protested, pressed.
Her slaps threw my head alternately to the right and left. Although they were carried out with cool gloved hands, my cheeks were burning. Two more. To the right. Left. And before I had recovered from the painful surprise, her spit was already sticking to my skin and running into my mouth, which was half open in amazement. Without responding to my protest, she took the next photo of my confused face, its cheeks burning red and shining from her saliva.
"So now the other boot! Soon!" She crossed her legs and before I could get a clear thought, I licked the second boot as if by remote control. Who is that woman? - it flashed through my mind. It was certainly not the first time she slapped a man. Her kick in my balls was perfect. And I certainly wasn't the first to greedily go for her boots as if to devour them. Her instructions were too clear, too self-evident for that...
"Who are you?" I asked whisperingly after I had cleaned every square inch of her left boot intensively. "Who are you?" I looked at her.
"I am the woman you should have met long ago! Who puts an end to your stalking. And with you using women who don't know anything about it as wank templates in your dirty pad. Open your mouth!
I opened my mouth. Watched this incredibly beautiful, bossy woman collect the saliva in her mouth, bend down to me and then spit a good portion into my mouth. It tasted delicious. I swallowed it all and opened my mouth greedily again. Even if I would never stalk again, never jerk off to strange women again, I wanted to swallow as much of the juice from inside this leather goddess as possible... as much as I could... She seemed to sense my greed and actually rewarded me with another portion that I licked off my lips...
"Now get up here! Undo your pants! Let me see your cock. Show me how you jerk off to strange leather women in your bower at home. Come on!"
I thought to myself, "Oh, fuck". I straightened up my upper body, opened my jeans and let them slip into the back of my knees. My half hard cock became visible... There sat an absolute leather dream goddess in front of me, and my friend was teetering around half-right. Jesus Christ! Who would be able to show a hard club in this stress! To be chased back and forth between heaven and hell by an unknown person in a lift every minute with a fat boner? Besides, I was in my mid-50s and I was kneeling here like a schoolboy in pigeon dirt...
She was amused. "Oh, so that's how it is... You can't get it up anymore... You can't satisfy women anymore... That's why you walk around the city, take pictures and jerk off on them at home with your limp noodle... Nobody looks... pathetic... really pathetic! Come on, jerk him off hard for me! Now a leather goddess sits before you. Come on, show me how horny you get.
She heaved herself out of the leather seat of her car and built herself up in full splendour directly in front of me. All I could see was leather, leather, leather. Black. Shiny. Seductive. My head exactly in line with her crotch. Leather stretching tightly over her centre. 20 centimetres away. I moaned. My tongue leapt forward. My cock straightened up. Both uncontrollably twitching. I started. She laughed. Slowly turning her pelvis. Turned her bottom towards me. Perfection in tightest leather, shining in neon light. Never was I so close to paradise. And it was getting closer. Closer. I put a careful kiss on her buttocks, one more and one more. Jerking off like an idiot. Felt how quickly I would cum, even though my cock had just been half limp. But this was too much. My pelvis tightened. The orgasm was approaching. "Oh my God... yeah, yeah... I'll be right there... I'll squirt it all out... for you... yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!" I moaned half-loud.
Abruptly she turned around. Grabbed my chin with her hand and forced me to look into her eyes. The slaps just rushed down on me. Harder and harder this time. I was in free fall. Sank down into me. "Up you go" she hissed, ripped up my jumper, grabbed my nipples with her leather fingers and pinched them shut. Pain ran through me. I bit my tongue to avoid screaming. Threw my head back into the neck.
"That's what you think, laddie, that you're allowed to come here. Just jerking off to a strange woman in leather, eh?" I could feel the next load of her spit slapping my face. "Do you think I'm fair game just because I wear leather?"
"No, but if you walk around town dressed all in leather, you must expect to drive a fetishist crazy. There's no other way," I whimpered. "So much leather. So tight. You make me addicted. I can't help but... follow you!" I became snotty, angry that she had robbed me of what might have been the hottest shot
"Well, now it strikes thirteen! Your fetishism is not my problem! I just wear what I feel like wearing. Do I have to get stalked by you because of that or what?"
"No, but..."
"But nothing! I don't want you to use me as a jerk-off tool at home just because you loser can't get hard anymore!
"But I'm not going to use you. That's just... a tribute I'm paying you, an offer of marriage... if I sacrifice my sperm at home..."
"I'd be honored if you'd jerk off on me." She reached into the car and nailed a bag. "I'm not going to listen to this bullshit anymore!" She waved a black thong in front of my face with the price tag still on it. "Open your mouth!"
I did what she told me to do and she stuffed her panties in my mouth. Then I felt her toe of her boot under my balls and kicked in. A dull pain wafted through my pelvis and the rest of my erection collapsed. Gurgling sounds of pain were suffocated by her panties in my mouth. Her mobile phone took a close-up. My panicked, distorted grimace, my gagged mouth, the tip of her boot under my balls. Then her face was above me. Close. Very close. Menacing and dark.
"So that we understand each other once and for all: You will never, ever, ever get the idea to stalk a woman again. You will dare to ever again secretly take pictures. And you will refrain from ever again playing around with an unknown woman on your cock. Do we understand each other?" As if to be on the safe side, she grabbed my tail root with her leather hand, grabbed my balls and pulled my pelvis towards her with a practiced grip. With her other hand she grabbed my bottom and pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. When she let go of me, I sank to the cold concrete floor in a mixture of pain, dizziness and fear. She turned my head to one side with the sole of her shoe and pressed my cheek against the dirty concrete. The pungent stench of pigeon droppings rose up my nose. As if through cotton wool I heard her continue to talk above me.
"Well, what have we here... 300 €, I'll take that as compensation for my pain..." I heard the crackling of the notes rubbing against her leather fingers. I did not care. With 300 € I would have paid this lesson cheaply... "And here... Your business card, wonderful, it will be useful for me...!" I awoke suddenly from my trance, my cells were flooded with adrenalin. My body wanted to startle up, but the sole of her boot held its position so persistently that my jaw cracked and I couldn't move my head an inch. My pelvis twitched helplessly with my pants down. She bent down towards me. Her voice was cold as ice. Sweat was dripping from my forehead.
"If I ever catch you not following my instructions, these pictures will end up on your boss' desk.Believe me, I have my eyes and ears all over this city. I will take you down. I will ruin your life. You are finished." She took the sole of her shoe off my cheek - and again I looked into her mobile phone camera, which was taking pictures of me lying on the ground as a worm. "I think that will be enough. I'll send you the pictures via WhatsApp in the next few days if you have a new mobile phone. So you can see what I have on you…"
"New mobile phone... but why?" I whispered with a dry mouth after she had pulled out her panties with pointed leather fingers.
"Well, this...", she waved my smartphone. She must have plucked it out of my jacket pocket at some point, unnoticed. "I don't suppose you'll be needing this silly little thing any more..." She dropped the device, in which half of my life was stored, on the floor in front of me. Before I realised, the heel of her boot had already shattered the display with a creaking sound. All the displays went out... "NOOOOO...!!!!" cried a voice from inside me, but I couldn't make a sound...
"I hope you understood your lesson, you pathetic wanker!" she said in an almost soft voice. I heard her close the passenger door, walk around her car, get in and drive away. She left me with my pants down, covered in dove droppings, spit and tears...
Marisol
- 10.02.2021
- 31
- 0
