VI. Leather Coat Desire
His eyes
snapped open.
It felt
like he had been asleep for an extremely long time.
He did
not know where he was or how he got there. The space around him was dark
and silent. He could see nothing and
hear nothing. He was aware that he was standing on a flat surface, but
could discern nothing else. All other details about his situation were
unknown to him and, oddly, beyond his concern. He was unable to recall
anything at the moment except that his name was Nathan and he was seeking a woman.
He did not know the woman’s name, but he would recognize her if he saw her.
He
extended his hands and took an uncertain step forward.
“Is
anybody there?” he called out.
“Nobody
else matters,” a girl’s voice replied calmly in the darkness.
Dozens of
candles flickered to life at once, revealing the person who spoke.
A thin
girl stood in front of him, cradling a large book on her left arm. She
might have been pretty, but her pale face was completely bare of makeup and
pinched as if by starvation. Her haunting hazel eyes were wide with
fearful innocence. A sad pout curved the
corners of her full, colorless lips downward.
She was
dressed like a Puritan woman, which did not strike him as odd. After all,
he was dressed as a Puritan man.
The
girl’s hair was covered by a white cap and a tall, pointed black leather hat
with a wide brim. A wide, flat collar of white linen spread across her narrow
shoulders and covered her modest bosom.
The full skirt of her fitted black wool dress went to the ground.
The
candlelight revealed that they were inside of a small, primitive-looking
timber-framed house that appeared to be little more than a hovel. He made
out rustic-looking furniture in the shadows around them and a fire flickered in
a stone hearth.
The floor
was made of packed earth and he noticed that the girl stood inside a circle of
mystical symbols scratched visibly into the dirt.
“What did
you say?” he asked her.
“Nobody
else matters,” she repeated.
“You have
come to save me at last, my Nathaniel. The spell shall protect us both
henceforth... if you choose properly.”
Somehow
her cryptic words made sense to him. There was something about a spell
involving the woman he was looking for, although he could not quite remember
what it was. The girl spoke with an odd sort of English accent, but there
was something familiar about her voice as well.
“Choose
what?” he asked.
“You must
choose the woman you love,” she answered solemnly.
“Who is
the woman you wish to spend eternity with? Come.”
She
turned and placed the book she held on a candlelit table.
He
approached her side without hesitation and examined the cover of the
book. Somehow it did not surprise him that the magical tome was a
JCPenney Fall and Winter catalog; the really thick kind he used to enjoy so
much when he was a kid.
The girl
pushed the catalog in front of him with her bony white hand.
“I am
supposed to find a picture of the woman I love in this catalog?” he clarified,
confused by the peculiar task.
“Yes.
Choose now,” she encouraged him.
“I know
you shall choose the right woman, my Nathaniel.”
“I will
try,” he answered, accepting the challenge without further question.
The model
on the cover of the catalog was an extremely attractive woman bearing a strong
likeness to a young Jaclyn Smith. She was buttoned and belted in a
vintage cocoa brown leather pant coat with the collar of a paisley polyester
blouse at her throat. Her left hand was in her pocket and her right hand
caressed the notched lapel of her coat.
The sight
of the picture thrilled him with joy. It had been almost twenty years
since he last saw it, but he would never forget it.
Nathan
was helping his mother throw out old magazines one afternoon when he was a
boy. He spied the woman on a page while curiously flipping through an old
JCPenney catalog from 1984. He was ten years old and just discovering
that he was attracted to girls. The
fashion model struck him as the prettiest woman he had ever seen and the way
the leather coat shined on her figure excited him in a way he never felt
before. She was sexy to him. He would later masturbate for
the first time while looking at that very picture.
As Nathan
gazed at the beloved old photo on the cover of the catalog he realized that the
flip of her auburn hair, the friendly glimmer of her eyes, and the wholesome
curve of her full, smiling lips actually very much resembled the woman he was
seeking.
“Do you
think she is pretty?” the Puritan girl asked, peering around his shoulder.
“Yeah.
This picture was on a page I tore out of a catalog back when I was a kid.
I kept it hidden under my bed for years.
I would stare at it when I was alone at night and hoped that I would
meet a woman like her when I grew up because I thought she was so
good-looking,” he explained.
He had
never told anyone about keeping the picture of the leather coat lady
before. He eventually lost it, but it was the first of many pictures of
women in leather coats he would continue to collect through his teens and
twenties. He secretly kept pages from magazines, catalogs, and newspaper
ads and locked them in a file cabinet.
None of the girls he dated ever wore so much as a leather jacket, so
those pictures were the only way he satisfied his fetish until the Internet came
along.
“You
probably think that is weird,” he cringed with embarrassment.
“I do not
think it irregular that you admire a woman from afar. But, is she the
woman you love?” the girl asked him.
“No,” he
chuckled, surprised at her reaction.
“She is
just a model in a catalog. There is no way I could actually meet
her. Besides, she is probably fifty or sixty years old by now!”
“Age is
meaningless to love,” the girl informed him humorlessly.
“Nevertheless,
do not dally. Open the book and find the woman you seek.”
He turned
the cover. The pages of the book were laid out like a catalog with
written descriptions of clothing items along the inside of each page.
Strangely enough, though, he recognized all of the models. Some of them were girls he knew in person,
others he only knew by face or name.
The first
couple pages was the juniors section and all the hairdos and clothing styles
were straight out of the ‘90s. Girls he thought were cute in junior high,
cheerleaders he never stood a chance with, and even his hot english teacher
from ninth grade posed glamorously in their best outfits.
He paused
for a moment at a picture of his high-school crush. She was the prettiest
girl in his class and she smiled hugely at him from the page. Her face
was framed by big hair-sprayed brown curls and her willowy figure shimmered in
the purple dress she wore to homecoming. He didn’t take her to the dance,
but he gazed longingly at her photo in the yearbook for years afterwards.
“Who is
she?” she girl asked.
“Her name
is Jodi. I thought she was gorgeous from the first moment I saw her in
ninth grade biology,” he explained.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the girl inquired once more.
“I was
certainly in love with her back then, although I was too shy to even talk to
her,” he admitted.
“And
now?” the girl probed.
“Now she
is head of marketing for some big corporation in Chicago and engaged to a
CEO. I recently contacted her on the Internet and she is hotter now than
ever,” he told her.
“But, is
she the woman you love?” the girl repeated.
“No,” he
said sullenly.
“Even if
I was in love with her she barely knows who I am.”
“Then
turn the page and continue your search,” the girl urged him.
The next
couple pages featured girls from his college years. Attractive girls from
his classes, women he flirted with at parties, unsuccessful dates, and old
girlfriends were archived, dressed in the outfits he liked most on them.
There were several pages of ladies from the past decade that he remembered seeing
on city sidewalks, in malls, or at public events. He recalled most of them simply because they
were good-looking. Others he admired because they were wearing leather
clothing.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the girl would ask him if he lingered on an image for but
an instant.
“No,” he
answered repeatedly, becoming increasingly disappointed at his failure to find
the woman he sought.
Interspersed
amid all of these were his favorite clippings of ladies’ leather fashion that
he had collected, arranged in chronological order. Long leather coats
from the 1990s with padded shoulders, raglan sleeves, and plunging collars
evolved into the more fitted maxi coats of the early 2000s that buttoned up
higher with shorter lapels. The faces of the stylish, haughty models who
posed in them were as familiar to him as friends, but impersonal and
two-dimensional. There were famous
actresses and supermodels. He scanned
through pages of them without pause. Such glamorous women were all so far
out of his league it would be ridiculous to even pretend he was in love with
any of them.
He
stopped abruptly at a snapshot of a blonde girl who was shorter, plumper, and
far more ordinary than the statuesque beauties he idolized. The girl was
casually dressed in a knit top and corduroy jacket. She was cute, but her smile caused him a pang
of regret.
“Who is
she?” she Puritan girl asked.
“Christine,”
he sighed dejectedly.
She was
his ex-girlfriend. He used to keep the same photo framed on his desk at
the office. He was desperately in love with her and thought she loved him
too. It was a severe blow to his ego when she dumped him.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the girl questioned him pointedly.
“I did
love her,” he confessed bitterly.
“We dated
for almost a year before she... before we broke up. She said I was too
obsessed with ‘dead people’ because I enjoy studying history so much.”
“Dead
people?” the girl repeated, requesting no further details about his
relationship with Christine.
“Are
people from the past dead to you?”
“No.
That’s the thing. They’re not dead to me at all! I am interested in
who they were and what they did when they were alive!”
His
response piqued the girl’s sober aspect.
“You
possess vision beyond your peers. Most people are confined to the narrow
moment of time they live in. They are incapable of comprehending the past
or future,” she asserted.
“You’re
right. But, there is so much to be learned from the past!” he professed.
“I don’t
understand how people just ignore it!”
“What if
you could meet a woman who has been alive for the past three centuries?” the
girl posed obscurely.
“A three
hundred year old woman?” he questioned.
“Even
older still,” the girl answered.
“That
would be amazing!” he exclaimed.
“The
experience and knowledge she would have about history would be fantastic!
I could probably talk to her forever!”
“And she
would be pleased to keep you company forever,” the girl assured him, her pale,
full lips curling into an upside-down smile.
“Wait!
Are you saying this woman actually exists?” he questioned.
The girl
nodded.
“Indeed.
And she has precious wisdom to share with you.”
He ducked
his head in thoughtful disbelief. His eyes focused on the photo of his
ex-girlfriend. She smirked at him doubtfully from the catalog.
“Yeah.
Christine used to say I was so wrapped up in my hobby that I didn’t have a good
grasp on reality. If I told her I believed there was a three hundred year
old woman she would say I’ve totally lost my mind!” he replied.
The girl
became perturbed.
“You must
forget that silly, insignificant girl! She no longer matters to you! She does not love you! You must move on
and find the woman you truly love!” she urged him once more.
“Yes!
You’re right! It is time to move on!” he agreed decisively, slapping the
next page down flat on Christine’s face.
The
following pictures were women he encountered recently. There were
attractive girls he recalled seeing in the past year or two, including the gorgeous
brunette whose black leather jacket kept creaking loudly as she stood next to
him in the bookstore last week. There was also the hot auburn sales rep
who frequently called on his office. She
was married to a rich stockbroker, but tormented all the engineers by flirting
with them dressed in tight blouses, short skirts, and high heels.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the girl asked monotonously.
“No,” he
sighed with irritation.
He was
certain they had reviewed every single girl he had ever been attracted to or
seriously interested in. He could not fathom who else there could
possibly be. Was he supposed to just
pick a woman he had never met before like a mail-order bride?
“This is
hopeless,” he grumbled.
He
carelessly leafed ahead, paying no attention to picture files of women he had
downloaded from the Internet over the past few years.
Then the
book seemed to fall open of its own accord as if the binding was creased in a
particular spot. He glanced down with discouragement only to have his
heart suddenly leap for joy!
Presented
before him was an achingly beautiful woman with flawless porcelain skin and
shoulder-length fiery red hair styled in a deep side-part. Alluring green
eyes and full red lips stood out strikingly from her delicate features. Her face was tantalizingly familiar to him,
but he could not recall who she was or how he might know her.
Not only
was she lovely, but she modeled an ensemble that he considered to be the
ultimate outfit in a woman’s wardrobe featured across a two page spread.
A
full-length photo on the far left page portrayed the woman cheerfully hanging
an autumn wreath on her front door. She was buttoned up in a long-sleeved
blouse tailored in crisp white cotton that crinkled prominently about her
bosom. A lustrous turquoise silk scarf embroidered with gold filigree was
wrapped around her graceful neck, puffing out of her shirt collar. A long
A-line skirt of sleek black leather flattered her slender waist and hourglass
hips, buttoned all the way down the front and flowing around the upper half of
the tall, polished black leather boots that encased her shapely calves.
A smaller
photo on the right of the same page showed the woman selecting apples from a
market stand with her tapered ivory hand. Her brows were raised and and
her lips parted prettily. A glossy black
leather blazer was layered over the previous outfit with the collar of her
white blouse spread over the notched lapels. Two buttons drew the jacket
in snug about her svelte abdomen and molded the shiny leather over her round
breasts.
The
pretty, immaculately dressed lady, happily going about her life appealed to him
at a fundamental level that was utterly stimulating. She embodied his
feminine ideal. He had daydreamed about
meeting such a lady for as long as he could remember.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the Puritan girl asked portentously.
He did
not answer her immediately.
There was
no question if he could love the woman. He had subconsciously been
in love with her likeness his entire life. But, could he dare hope that
such a supreme woman might love him in return?
“Is she
the woman you love?” the Puritan girl’s voice echoed hypnotically in his ear.
He became
too distracted by the picture on the opposite page to reply.
Elegant
white script at the top read Timeless Beauty You Will Love Forever above
the product description for an Endlessly Luxurious Full Length Coat of
Buttery Soft Lambskin Leather.
The
redheaded woman strolled along a metropolitan park lane framed by a canopy of
autumn leaves. Her stunning figure gleamed resplendently in a buttoned
black leather coat that flowed to her ankles. The notched collar of the
coat was popped around her neck. Her
crisp white blouse contained the silk scarf at her throat. Glossy black
leather gloves gleamed on her hands and her leather boots shined.
The woman
was just as intimidatingly beautiful as any of the other gorgeous models he
skipped over in the book, but something about her was endearing to him; perhaps
even attainable. Somehow she was not just a two-dimensional model
from a fashion catalog. Her face beamed at him warmly from within the
page. Her emerald eyes pierced tenderly
into his soul and the luscious curve of her smiling, crimson lips gnawed a pit
in his stomach. He felt an unexplainable certainty that she already knew
him. Something in her facial expression
made him confident that she wanted him.
“Is she
the woman you love?” the Puritan girl asked in an anxious pitch.
“I have
always dreamed of being with a woman like her,” he murmured, nodding his head.
The
redheaded woman was a goddess. No other woman could compare to
her.
“Answer
me clearly!” the Puritan girl invoked breathlessly.
“Is she
the woman you love?”
Something
in her voice sparked a fervor within him hitherto repressed.
“Yes,” he
rumbled, his certainty increasing by the moment.
“She is
everything I could ever want.”
“Louder!
Proclaim yourself! Is she the woman you love?” the girl beseeched him.
“Yes!” he
roared, the flame of his passion blazing like a bonfire.
“I have
always loved her! If I had even the slightest chance with her I would
love her forever!”
The girl
gasped and clapped her hands together. A broad smile brightened her
previously dour visage.
“And so
you shall have a chance with her this very night!” she exclaimed.
“What?
How is that possible? This is just a picture on a page! How will I
ever meet her?” he asked desperately.
The
Puritan girl began to giggle uncontrollably.
“You
dear, sweet boy! She is already with you!” she announced
cheerfully.
“She has
been anxiously waiting for you to recognize her before she revealed herself to
you!”
Her
laughter escalated into ecstatic cackling as the dim confines of the hovel
lifted like a curtain. Daylight flooded the space around them, blinding
him. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to
the glare. The catalog and everything
else vanished, leaving them standing in a sunny outdoor setting surrounded by
vivid autumn colors.
The
Puritan girl doffed her tall black hat and removed the coif underneath. A
voluminous wave of lustrous red hair cascaded to her shoulders. The pinched pallor of her complexion
blossomed with wholesome creaminess. Her hazel eyes brightened to
luminescent green beneath dark, thickened lashes. Her mouth ripened with moist, plump lips that
turned a deep shade of crimson.
He backed
away as her entire body transformed.
Her
lilting, hauntingly discordant laughter pealed out as her slight build grew
statuesque. Her breasts swelled roundly, straining the laces of her dress
until they burst down the front. Her wool dress split apart at the seams
and fell away as her shoulders broadened.
Much to
his amazement the exquisite beauty from the catalog picture emerged from the
torn, sloughing shreds of coarse wool! Her voluptuous figure was buttoned
in the full length coat of gleaming black lambskin, the notched collar of which
splayed of its own accord like wings about her neck. The collar of her
white blouse jutted stiffly from her lapels and filled in with the liquid waves
of her silk scarf.
He could
only gape in thunderstruck astonishment while she regained her composure,
fluffing her hair into place with an effortless toss of her head. She
slid her gloved hands over her sleek abdomen, obviously delighting in her
outfit. Then she strutted toward him
like a runway model; shoulders back, splendid chest thrust forward, and
curvaceous hips swaying. The high heels of her boots clicked on the paved
walkway that appeared beneath them. She
stopped in front of him and spread her arms to present herself. Her leather coat creaked sumptuously as it
pulled tightly across her bosom.
“Do you
recognize me now?” she asked flirtatiously.
She was
glorious. Her fiery hair burned against a halo of cobalt blue sky.
The collar of her coat cupped her angelic face as she smiled at him
radiantly. Buttons glistened and glossy black leather shined on her from
head to toe.
“What is
your name?” he stammered in awe.
“I am
Desire. Your Desire,” her crimson lips pronounced
ebulliently.
“And you
are my Nathaniel.”
“I am
Nathaniel,” he affirmed politely.
“And I am
definitely yours... if you want me!”
Leather
creaked audibly again as she extended her delicate, right hand to him on a limp
wrist.
He
reacted to her unspoken command instantly, catching her tapered fingers with a
ready flourish. Bowing and scraping gallantly, he kissed the back of her
hand. The buttery lambskin of her glove
pressed against his lips, sending a rush of excitement through him.
“It gives
me the greatest pleasure to finally meet you, Desire. You are, without a
doubt, the most beautiful woman in the world.”
She
gasped and pressed her left hand to her bosom as if overcome with
exhilaration. Her shoulders lifted, causing the collar of her white
blouse to rise about her chin. A smile
of pure, unrestrained joy spread across her lips and glittered in her
eyes.
“You
cannot possibly fathom how very long my heart has ached for this moment!” she
effused.
She
squeezed his hand as he straightened.
“So, you
really have been waiting for me?” he asked, more than a little dumbfounded.
“Many
lifetimes have passed since I last gazed upon your face,” she purported.
“But, I
never gave up hope that I would see you again and that you would still love
me!”
He was
overwhelmed by her unwavering, inexplicable affection for him. He
suddenly felt extremely awkward and utterly inadequate standing before such a
goddess; not to mention really foolish dressed in his old-fashioned clothes.
“I don’t
know what to say, Desire. I never believed I had a chance with a woman
like you,” he admitted sheepishly, ducking his head.
She
lifted his chin with her cool, gentle fingers.
“You have
nothing to be ashamed of Nathaniel. Those inferior women who have damaged
your pride were not worthy of your love. You were always meant to be with
me! I know you to be the most charming and clever man I ever
met! You must never doubt yourself again,” she reassured him
sweetly.
Her words
roused his spirit. Their eyes met again as he raised his head, her
emerald irises enticing him irresistibly closer.
She
reached out, clasped his face with her leather hands, and kissed him!
Her lips
pressed tenderly against his; heavenly soft pillows of sugary sweetness.
The surge of euphoria that rushed through him drove any remaining doubt from
his mind. She really did want him!
His self confidence increased more in that moment than the whole rest of
his life put together. If he was good enough for her surely he was
good enough for any woman.
She
patted his cheeks and smiled disarmingly as she stepped back.
He
couldn’t help smiling back at her.
“Right!
I understand now,” he told her, infused with a newfound sense of
self-worth.
“Nobody
else matters... except for you... and me.”
He
comprehended the Puritan girl’s prophetic words from earlier.
“Yes!”
Desire exclaimed.
“That is
music to my ears! Let me hear it from you once more!”
“Nobody
else matters... to me... except you!” he quipped with a grin.
His words
trailed off as he leaned in and kissed her amorously on the lips to punctuate
what he said.
She
responded in kind with a low, purring giggle. She did not resist as his
arms instinctively caught her lithe figure in a tight embrace. Her body
was as supple as the buttery leather that enclosed it. Her coat creaked luxuriously as her firm,
round breasts pressed against his chest. He stiffened instantly and the
sharp intake of her breath verified that she felt him. Her hands grabbed his backside and held him
close to her while they kissed for a few moments longer. When they parted
her sticky, wet lips curved in a coy upside-down smile and her brows cocked
coquettishly.
“How do
you feel, my darling?” she asked him.
He
considered his answer for a second.
“Better,”
he said.
It was
the best way he could think to describe the thrilling ego boost throbbing
inside of him.
“You are
better, my love! You and I are better than anyone else!” she gushed
exuberantly.
“And you
are the most handsome gentleman as well!”
She
swiped her gloved hand across his chest with a frictionless swish.
He looked
down and was shocked to find himself decked out from head to toe in an outfit
he never dreamed of wearing before!
He patted
his body in surprise, discovering he was buttoned in a single breasted overcoat
of smooth, supple black lambskin, tailored with broad shoulders and tapering to
his upper calves. Pleated, charcoal gray wool trousers were visible below
the hem of his coat and polished black patent leather dress shoes gleamed on
his feet.
“See how
dapper you look?” she complimented, holding an open cosmetic compact out to
him.
He took
the round mirror from her and examined his face. His blonde hair was
gelled into a suave part and his jaw was more chiseled and clean shaven than it
had ever been. His blue eyes were as piercing as sapphires. A turquoise silk tie printed with gold
filigree was knotted at his throat inside a starched white shirt collar.
He looked
better than he ever recalled seeing himself before, and he couldn’t deny that
he looked pretty damn good! He was the masculine counterpart of the
perfect lady. They matched one another
to a tee; male and female versions of same supreme style.
“Whoa!
I’ve never dressed like this before! Where did these clothes come from?”
he responded.
“You
picked the outfit yourself. It is your favorite after all,” she answered
glibly.
She was
right of course. It was his favorite outfit on a woman; not
himself. He had never considered dressing the same way personally.
Somehow it seemed a bit too polished and effeminate to wear as a man, not to
mention way too stimulating to his fetish. It was the first time he ever
got turned on by his own appearance and he was not entirely comfortable with
it.
“Do we
not make the loveliest couple?” she giggled, snatching the mirror from him.
“Love me
and you shall remain this handsome forever!”
She
rolled the notched collar of his coat up behind his neck like hers and stroked
his chest with her gloved hands.
“Forever?”
he questioned.
“Would
you like to remain young and beautiful with me forever?” she tempted.
“Yeah!
Of course!” he answered thoughtlessly.
“Who
wouldn’t?”
His
sentiment obviously pleased her. Her lips parted in a dazzling
smile.
“Oh
Nathaniel! You cannot possibly imagine how happy I am that you have found
me! I fear I might pop my buttons when I think of how perfect our lives
will be!”
Her
emerald eyes glanced seductively at his mouth beneath dark, batting
lashes. Her parted red lips tempted him irrepressibly above her white
blouse collar. His up-close perspective
of her gleaming leather coat rippling over her hourglass form was insanely
provocative to him. She was so incredibly beautiful!
Utterly
bewitched by her, he seized her in another passionate embrace. She flowed
into his arms and their rubbing leather coats creaked and crackled on each
other nonstop as he squeezed her buttery curves tightly against him. He
nuzzled through her silken tresses, smooching her satin cheeks and feverishly
devouring her delectable mouth with one tender kiss after another. She giggled vivaciously and her sweet breath
was like an aphrodisiac, intoxicating his senses so much that he became
oblivious to all else around him.
His heart
pounded with the intensely erotic emotion rushing through him. His
burning lust for her swelled so vigorously upward it felt like they were
flying!
A torrid,
billowing atmosphere unlike anything he ever experienced swirled around them as
they soared! Giddy as he was to be spirited away by his dream woman, it
never crossed his mind to be afraid of falling. He assumed they were
ascending to the Gates of Heaven, although he would have dove with her just as
willingly into the pit of Hell.
His
entire world revolved around her. He was hopelessly lost in her
mesmerizing eyes; spinning and swooping deliriously along diaphanous rays of
turquoise in a glittering verdant paradise. Sunbursts of gold flashed
around the edges of her fathomless black pupils; captivating him, luring him
inward, tantalizing him with hidden wonder.
He
gravitated too close to the darkness.
Something
unseen gripped him, sucking at him relentlessly, threatening to swallow him
like a vortex! The irresistible force of it pulled him away from
Desire! She separated from him, her
slick leather arms slipping through his desperate grasp all the way down to her
fingertips.
There was
a moment of blind panic as he lost hold of her!
“Desire!”
he cried out.
Her
inscrutable cackling pealed out once again. Was she shrieking for
him? Or was she laughing?
His
stomach leapt into his throat as he plummeted into the abyss only to have his
feet abruptly, but gently, alight on solid ground.
He blinked,
suddenly aware of his surroundings once more, and was shocked to find that he
was no longer outside. He quickly recovered his nerve as he got his
bearings. Desire stood in front of him,
placid and immaculate as ever with her hands folded at her waist.
“I am
with you my love,” she assured him soothingly.
“No power
in the universe can part us. I will be at your side forever.”
They
stood in a round room with a domed ceiling. The space was small, but as
opulently furnished as a palace chamber with a sofa, a coffee table, and a bed
covered with linens of crimson and gold silk brocade. A besom broom was
propped against one arm of the couch with a pointed black leather witch hat
resting on its wide brim beside it. The
delicious aroma of apple cider steamed gently from a footed bronze cauldron on
the table. The area was enclosed entirely by crystal-clear panes of
glass, presenting a breath-taking, panoramic view of a fiery orange sunset on
an ocean horizon.
“Where
are we?” he asked, mystified.
“My
favorite place to ponder eternity,” she answered, vaguely describing her ivory
tower.
He peered
out of the windows. A rocky coastline capped with grass sprawled as far
as the eye could see on either side. He could hear the tide crashing on
the shore a hundred feet below. He
glanced down and was startled to find his heels on the ledge of a bottomless
red spiral staircase that corkscrewed like a snail shell.
“A
lighthouse?” he exclaimed, stepping away from the edge.
“Indeed,”
she smiled at his surprise.
“From
here I marvel at the endless cycle of the sun and moon in the everlasting sky
and revel in my own immunity to the natural order of Heaven and Earth,” she
told him, spreading her arms to gesture at the glowing sunset behind her.
Her
leather coat squelched as the top button pulled it tight and shiny in the
center of her bustline.
“A
thousand years from now this mighty tower of stone and iron will have long
succumbed to the crushing elements, but I shall be as I am now; impervious
to the passage of time!”
She
beamed confidently.
The
meaning of her words registered in his brain with hazy comprehension as he
noticed a giant, incandescent green glass bulb on a tall pedestal in the center
of the room. It was about the size of a large pumpkin and resembled a
supernatural, crystalline beehive with stacked, concentric facets that
refracted a haunting, softly pulsating light inside. He knew that it was
called a fresnel lens, and it concentrated the beam of light that guided ships
at sea, but it reminded him of a crystal ball.
“Do you
wish to ponder eternity with me, Nathaniel?” Desire proffered dulcetly,
flinging her hands out to him.
He rushed
forward to take them and answered her with another kiss, unable to resist the invitation
of her succulent lips. His ardour for her had not cooled.
“So long
as the sun rises and sets we shall live to behold it,” she proclaimed
solemnly, gazing at him with her green eyes as they parted from one another,
fingers entwined.
“I don’t
understand,” he questioned, glancing out at the glorious purple dusk displayed
before them.
“You keep
speaking of forever and eternity. Are you the woman who has been
alive for three hundred years?”
Her
crimson lips curved into a broad, decadent smile above the collar of her white
blouse.
“I am
the Puritan girl,” she answered him proudly.
“I was
born May 22, 1639.”
“Wow!
That’s amazing!” he exclaimed, believing her implicitly.
“So, are
you... immortal?”
“The
spell grants me eternal youth,” she purred luxuriantly.
“So long
as I heed it prudently I shall never die. But, I want... something more,”
she replied wistfully.
“I crave
a security that only you can help me obtain, my Nathaniel.”
She
squeezed his fingers tightly.
“What do
you mean?” he asked.
She
pulled from his grasp. Clasping her arms about herself, she turned to
gaze out the window. Her burnished red hair contrasted boldly against the
violet firmament.
“Absolute
invulnerability to time is what I desire! I want the hands of the
clock to be meaningless to me! I want a century to be as insignificant to
my wellbeing as an hour! I wish to seclude myself away from the petty
concerns of humanity for a lifetime or two with no further consequence to
myself than taking a month-long holiday!” she expounded.
“Sadly,
this is not my condition. Time exerts no effect on me, but I am still
very much subject to it.”
“How is
that?” he asked.
She
regarded him gravely over the collar of her coat.
“My spell
is incomplete. And therefore the power it grants me must be
replenished. I must repeat my incantation every twenty-three years on the
ordained day. If ever I dare be late I will be rendered mortal once
again! And that cannot happen!
That must never happen!” she explained in a careful, imperative voice.
Her
revelation sounded dimly familiar to him.
“Thus, I
am slave to the hourglass. I must be ever mindful of time’s
passage. After centuries of performing the same routine over and over
again my brain has grown attuned to every hour of every day like the most
precisely-crafted watch. The clock practically ticks in my head... and
the sound of it is maddening to me!”
Faint
creases knitted her brow for a moment as she grimaced dramatically, caressing
her temples with her tapered, leather fingertips. The buttoned cuffs of
her white blouse slid from her coat sleeves as she did so.
“But,
you, my Nathaniel, you are the one who can complete my spell and make it
permanent! You can silence the clock for me! Your love shall stop the hourglass from ever
draining another second of life from me!” she proclaimed.
Her face
brightening with a hopeful expression.
It never
occurred to him to doubt anything she said. He believed her
wholeheartedly. He accepted the spell to
be as real as the beautiful woman standing before him. He only wondered
what part he played in it.
“Me?
I can make you immortal?” he stammered, a bit overwhelmed.
“Indeed,
my love! If you prove to be my Nathaniel, the spell shall make us both
immortal! The enchantment shall irrevocably bind us together in eternal
bliss until the end of time!”
“How do I
prove myself to you?” he beseeched, anxious about the fantastic prospect of
spending eternity with such a goddess.
She swept
around him, hugging her own waist.
“My
Nathaniel held me in his arms only briefly. The Devil stole him from me
before we could consummate our love all those many years ago,” she mused.
She
passed behind the crystalline orb so that it hid her face. Her lovely
eyes refracted in dozens of the upper facets, blinking at him like a waving
peacock’s tail with long, dark lashes for feathers. The green light
pulsating within the glass matched her emerald irises.
“I have
waited centuries... but I have never forgotten the blessed warmth I felt beside
him.”
Her
luscious red lips spoke to him in hypnotic multiplicity within the lower facets
of the lens.
“I feel
the same familiar warmth when I am next to you.”
She
emerged from the other side of the bulb, half-a-head shorter than her
statuesque self only a moment ago as if she had stepped out of her high-heeled
boots. She glided up to him; petite, sleek, and utterly seductive. Her black leather coat shined over her
prominent bosom and swished about her curvaceous hips. She stopped an arm’s length before
him.
Leather
squeaked softly as she tugged the fingers of her gloves loose one by one and
pulled them off.
“Tell me,
my Nathaniel. Do you truly remember nothing of me?” she asked, pouting
prettily.
Leather
creaked again as she reached up to unbutton his coat for him.
He
considered his answer.
“I cannot
say that I remember you, Desire... but, somehow, you have always been in my
mind. You are everything I have ever wanted,” he told her.
“I have
dreamed of meeting a woman like you my whole life. Now I know why.”
His words
pleased her. She smiled as she unknotted his tie and swiftly opened the
front of his shirt with her nimble fingers. It never occurred to him to
protest as the beautiful goddess undressed him.
He made no move to stop her.
“You no
longer need to dream of me,” she cooed.
“You have
found me at last... and I am yours.”
She
spread his coat and shirt over his shoulders so that the garments slid off of
his arms and landed in a pile at his feet. He stood before her,
bare-chested in his wool trousers. His
torso appeared broader and his arms more heavily muscled than ever
before. She admired his physique with glimmering, sultry eyes. The touch of her delicate hands and the cool,
buttery swipe of her leather sleeves across his bare skin titillated him to the
extreme.
She
unfurled her turquoise silk scarf and slipped it, frictionless, from her neck,
leaving the collar of her white blouse splayed open about her elegant
throat.
“Unbutton
me,” she supplicated him, tossing her head back with sensual abandon.
His hands
flew up instinctively, eager to do her bidding, and then paused even as he
touched the polished button between her breasts. As infatuated with
Desire as he was, to simply strip off her clothes in a rush to get laid would
be a desecration. After all, she was no
ordinary woman. She was the physical embodiment of the untouchable lady
he adored since he was a boy. To make
love to her while she was still wrapped in her lambskin coat would be ecstasy
beyond his wildest dreams!
But,
could he dare ask her to do such a thing?
He
hesitated too long to avoid her notice.
“What is
wrong?” she implored, her eyes widening.
“Am I not
beautiful to you? Am I not your Desire?”
The
worried confusion on her face caused him a twinge of anxiety.
“Nothing
is wrong,” he declared apprehensively.
“It is
just that… you do not need to undress for me. You could not be more
beautiful… than you are right now… in your leather coat.”
His heart
beat out of his chest and his guts churned with nausea as he uttered his
confession.
“I would
have you no other way.”
Was his
fetish going to freak her out at the very last second? He steeled himself
for the inevitable sting of rejection.
Was she going to laugh at him in disdain and call him a pervert?
Or perhaps slap him and shove him away in disgust?
“Oh,
Nathaniel,” she gasped, batting her eyelashes self-consciously.
“I could
tell you were different by the way you look at me.”
His
breath caught in his throat and his mouth went dry as sandpaper. However,
her expression never became stern or upset.
She betrayed no hint of alarm.
“You
truly are not like other men... who lust only after my body. You offer me
dignity and security. You grant me power
I have never possessed… power over myself.”
She
seemed to comprehend nothing of his fetish. Or if she did understand his
proclivity she was undisturbed by it and responded to him more thoughtfully
than he could have ever imagined. Not only was she unbothered, but
somehow, miraculously, she actually appeared grateful!
He
exhaled a sigh of relief, smiling at her again.
“Take me
as I am,” she offered indulgently.
“Just as
you are, right now? In your coat?” he verified, trying to hide his
disbelief.
She
nodded, her eyes glowing with warmth and appreciation.
“Love
me!” she pleaded.
“Love me
now! Only your love can save me from the bitterness of mortality!
And you shall be rewarded above all other men!”
His
confidence peaked. He hardened with raw masculine virility; the fire
inside of him stoked to a blazing furnace.
She was
intimidatingly perfect, and yet soft, delicate, even vulnerable. Her
feminine virtues compelled him to provide for her, pamper her, protect her.
She was depending on him to save her and he would have gladly given his life
for her if she asked him to.
Placing
his hands very deliberately on her arms he pulled her to him.
“If my
love will keep you safe, Desire, then I promise to love you forever,” he
assured her in a deep voice, enfolding her in a strong, shielding embrace.
She let
out a squeal of joy, draping her arms around his shoulders. Her lissome
leather figure was cool, liquid euphoria mashed against his naked
skin.
Fantasy became
reality. In his mind’s eye he was the bold cavalier rescuing the fair
damsel from distress.
Their
lips melded in a prolonged kiss of classic romance.
At that
moment, spellbound with a kiss, Nathaniel loved Desire with his heart and
soul.
It seemed
like an hour lapsed before he weaned himself from the honey nectar of her
mouth. Cool tendrils of saliva spanned from her wet lips and snapped on
his.
He then
buried his face in the collar of her blouse, showering her neck with
kisses. She moaned with gratification, rubbing his back and stroking his
scalp. He no longer resisted the
temptation to grope her splendid bosom and the decadent sensation of her supple
leather-coated breasts in his grasp electrified him. Every fiber of his
being tingled; tumescent with irrepressible carnal passion for
her.
She
wanted him. She accepted him. She offered to love him
forever.
And he
meant to worship her like the goddess she truly was.
He swept
her off her feet, lifting her up into his arms lightly. Her black leather
boots gleamed with polished toes and jutting heels as she kicked her long,
shapely legs out gracefully from her leather skirt. An uncontrollable
giddy, impulse sent him spinning around in a complete turn; punch-drunk in
love. Desire tossed her head back and
whooped with delight, her fiery red tresses fluttering behind her shoulders and
the dangling hem of her leather coat flowing in a vast swirl about them.
He
carried her to the bed and gently laid her upon the plush silk jacquard
covers. Her hair cascaded over the pillow perfectly as if she was a
princess in a fairy tale and her coat clung to her resplendent figure like a
ballgown. He slid alongside her, kissing and caressing her in lingering,
sensual adoration. Her hardened nipples
protruded palpably within the buttery lambskin that covered them. His
hands swept over the breathtaking hollow of her abdomen and traced along the
lush curves of her hips. The lower two
buttons of her coat undid themselves beneath his fingertips as he fondled her
thighs.
She truly
was the supple, sultry siren of his innermost dreams. Her liquid arms
coursed over him, pulling him to her.
Her dainty fingers unfastened his trousers and eased them down
imperceptibly.
“Take
me!” she gasped.
Her
leather skirt was already unbuttoned just high enough for her to spread her
legs with her knees flexed. Her calves were encased by her boots, but
otherwise there was no pantyhose or undergarments to impede him; only the lure
of creamy skin sumptuously draped with leather.
“Take me
now! I cannot wait any longer! I must know you are the one!”
There was
no resisting her.
He rolled
over top of her and plunged through waves of satin-lined leather, passing
between her ivory thighs, intently aimed like a ship’s prow for her innermost,
lily white flower of female perfection never exposed to the light of day.
She gasped resoundingly as he penetrated her, stiff as a ramrod, and sank deep
within. She was already hot and slick
with arousal and her overflowing juices squelched as he withdrew and thrust
steadily again and again like a sword sliding in and out of a well-oiled
sheath.
“Oh!
Oh!” she exclaimed, moaning and writhing beneath him with swiftly mounting
pleasure.
Her
rippling lambskin form creaked in luxurious rhythm to his back-and-forth
motion. Her blouse rode up about her cheeks and the collar of her coat
cupped her face. Her tousled tresses
splayed outward like licking flames. Her glittering emerald eyes burned
into him. A mixture of emotions played
upon her smooth brow; joy, sadness, confidence, uncertainty, pride, humility,
and tenderness. But most of all, her exquisite features beamed with
consummate, insatiable desire.
She
climaxed quickly. She inhaled sharply through red lips parted in a soft
O; her leather crackling incessantly as her breathing grew more rapid.
She heaved and abruptly screamed with unrestrained ecstacy. Every muscle in her body contracted around
him, clamping him tightly. Her nails clawed into his back and her heels
dug into his legs.
He did
not mind the discomfort in the slightest. Nothing else mattered except
fulfilling his Desire.
It was
several moments before her quivering, creaking leather figure relaxed, peeling
away from his skin as she melted back onto the sheets, limp with
satisfaction.
“Oooh!
My Nathaniel,” she cooed in his ear.
Then she
gasped with surprise.
She felt
him.
He was
still hard as a rock inside her. Whether he was too overstimulated or simply
numb with exhilaration, he remained steadfastly rigid. His lust for her
was not yet spent.
“You
pleasure me even before yourself!” she gushed before he could formulate any
explanation.
She
kissed him in appreciation.
“You are
ever so gallant, but you must come with me!”
She rose
and in one fluid motion rotated him beneath her. His head spun drunkenly
into the pillow for a split second of uncomfortable dizziness.
“I cannot
have eternal life without you! Come with me now!” she urged him.
She was
still firmly mounted upon him, straddling him with her thighs. Her
satin-lined skirts spread cool and slick over his legs. Leather creaked and juices squished as she
began to rock her pelvis, spurring his arousal onward.
“I was a
weak, foolish girl when I lost you before,” she murmured as she rode him
steadily.
“But no
longer! Now I am in control!”
Up and
down she went on him, her thighs lifting and falling rhythmically. Her
gleaming leather coat shifted back and forth, rippling and bunching along her
sinuous hourglass torso as she swayed her hips. Her emerald eyes blazed
and her crimson lips smiled at him delectably.
She raked her fingers upward through her hair with both arms raised,
tossing her fiery tresses.
She truly
was the most exquisitely desirable woman in the world.
“No one
shall interfere with my happiness this time! You are in my power
alone now and beyond the Devil’s reach!”
The
crystalline bulb behind her pulsated with incandescent green energy as she
pumped against him more rapidly.
“You
shall be the happiest man who ever lived! The perfect lover for the
perfect woman!”
The most
gratifying sensation he ever experienced radiated from his loins. Every
nerve in his body tingled, seething with excitation, ready to unleash!
“Fulfill
your desire! Prove to me that you are worthy of my love!”
She
stroked upward dramatically and then thrust herself down on him with solid
precision; electrifying him like a lightning bolt!
He came
at last.
A bestial
groan escaped from his throat as he erupted inside of her with the fury of a
volcano!
She
climaxed again simultaneously, screaming in triumphant rapture.
His
muscles spasmed as the culmination of his lust blasted forth like a
geyser. She clamped onto him tighter than ever, capturing every drop of
his ejaculation.
“Yes!
Yes! Yes!” she sang out her breathless,
feminine orgasm.
She
arched her back and splayed her arms wide. Her coat buttons strained
against the tightly creaking leather containing her grand heaving bosom and
began to pop, one by one, out of their holes without breaking a
thread.
“You are
my Nathaniel!” she proclaimed ecstatically.
Only her
top button remained fastened.
“And your
love shall make me truly… immortal!”
The
button burst with a terrific snap at the same instant he expelled the last of
his ardour and her coat flaps exploded open!
She
lifted from him; born aloft by flaring wings of lambskin lined with lustrous
lavender satin that billowed around her in plush, voluminous
magnificence. The front of her white blouse crinkled and crackled apart
as well in a flutter of crisp fabric and glittering buttons. Her leather skirt came undone along its
placket and slipped off her legs as did her boots.
With a
sensual roll of her shoulders her coat and blouse ran from her arms in a great
rustling swoosh to splat on top of him, and she emerged like a glorious
butterfly from her luxurious cocoon.
His
goddess of love and beauty ascended, hovering gracefully upright above the foot
of the bed where he lay speechless, spent, and flaccid. Her naked
alabaster figure was so resplendent that his euphoric comprehension was blind
to the intimate details of her plentiful breasts and shapely hips.
She gazed
down at him serenely with sparkling emerald eyes, her burnished hair cascading
in stunning disarray around her angelic face
"Nobody
else matters to you now, my Nathaniel... except me," her glossy red lips
intoned in the same voice as the Puritan girl.
"I
am your Desire. And you shall love me forever!"
She
folded her arms about herself, hugging and caressing her voluptuous curves as
she began to laugh exuberantly. The ethereal aura of her flawless,
porcelain skin intensified, glowing so brightly that her svelte silhouette
became indistinct. Creamy flesh dissipated into divine, dazzling radiance
and she vanished in a brilliant flash!
Stars
wheeled in his vision as the green glow of the lighthouse bulb faded into
darkness. Her ebullient, mellifluous cackling echoed hauntingly inside
his head. His senses swam in the
intoxicating delirium of ultimate pleasure and he drifted back into blissful
slumber.
Love reading the new chapter! The style is drastically different from all your other works. It’s the first time to see our lady’s leather garments being damaged and taken off. It would be better if she’s buttoned up in her leather coat all the time. She shall be immortalized in her leather garments.
ReplyDeleteI always like your portrait of the squeaky leather. Wish I could see more squeaky scenes in your future work.
Of course, the lady should find some new ways to damage her expensive leather garments. Like standing in the rain and rubbing her leather coat against the wall.