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Requiem for the Belle Epoque

So who is this guy who posts an entire blog about women wearing long leather coats? Find out in the following memoir... I contently g...

VI. Leather Coat Desire


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.  

1 comment:

  1. 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.
    I 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.

    ReplyDelete