Théo and Éomer: Unravelling ...
May. 4th, 2005 08:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rohansonIt was early today when you arrived, and with no plans made, we were free to fall into bed and spend a couple of hours making up for the time we have been apart. Happy, and for the moment sated, we curled up on the bed, tangling together, touching, kissing, dozing, until the angle of the sun streaming in through the window and the grumbling of your stomach remind me that it is almost midday.
I grin at the loud rumbling sound that disturbed my rest. Propping myself up on one elbow, I let my fingers roam through the fur on your chest, my eyes finding yours as you purr and stretch under my touch. Your hand reaches out to stroke my hair, and I lean into it, closing my eyes and rubbing my head against your palm as a cat would. When I open my eyes again, I catch sight of your … Karl’s old breeches, hanging by one leg over the back of the couch where they were thrown earlier in our haste to remove your clothing, and my mind starts to work.
I lower my mouth to your chest, kissing my way slowly up it as I think. Paris is quite happy to answer my questions about this world, and went into detail on how trade and commerce work here. How merchants no longer travel from town to town selling their wares, rather have fixed places of business, “shops”. I quizzed him on where he had his clothes made, and he laughed, and told me that clothes were very rarely made for a person unless they were incredibly rich, in which case they were made by expensive “designers” who I gather are not unlike seamstresses. In this world, clothes are usually bought in these shops, which I now realise we have passed many times on our travels.
I slide my lips over your collar bone. “I think we should take the money we won playing darts and find you some riding leathers, breeches and a jacket. You are too big for Karl’s clothes and as we are able to spend time here regularly now, I think it is only fitting that the Third Marshall be properly attired.” Biting down gently, I suck on your salty skin before teasing.
“And I want to see you in leather.”
Éomer: My stomach is speaking to me, but you sliding around on my body has other parts of me speaking as well, and it is difficult to decide . . . until you say you want me in leather. Leather is starting to have distinct memories for me.
I roll us over and pin you under me. "All right, but I want you first . .. now!" I shift your thighs apart with my knees and hold your hip down with one hand, while I guide myself into you with my other hand. You are still slick and loosened from earlier and I ease in without resistance, going slowly, wanting to feel every bump and ridge of muscle as you clasp me. When I am hilted deep within you, I lean over you and wrap my hands around your strong shoulders, pulling you to me. I move slowly, pulling almost all the way out each time, revelling in the feel of your tight body around me.
"Touch yourself, Théo." And you put your hand on your hardness and I feel myself starting to fall over the edge. Finally, I come, groaning and shuddering as I rock my hips into you, as you add your voice to mine and your warm juice covers us.
I shift myself to the side, so my weight is not on you, nuzzling your neck. "I know you have some plan in mind. Where are we going?"
Théo: It is my turn to purr contentedly as you nuzzle me. “Exploring.” I grin at you, not minding in the least that we are sticking together. “We will walk up from the harbour into the city, and find somewhere that sells leather garments. I have heard of places called malls where there are many shops, so surely we will find what we are looking for.” I nudge your head up, and brush my lips over ours. “And we will need to find something to eat.” My stomach growls in agreement. “We need to keep your strength up for later.” I suck gently on your bottom lip. “Shower first?” I push you back, peeling my skin from yours, laughing as I get to my feet and hold out my hand which you grasp and I pull you off the bed and we head to the shower.
A little later, I walk downstairs to feed Gizmo before we leave, and to retrieve our money from Paris’ bookshelf. You come up behind me as I reach up and take the heavy leather-bound copy of Ivanhoe off the shelf, opening it to reveal a pile of notes pressed flat by the weight of the book. There is more than just our darts winnings as I have had a couple of good nights at the Ship these past weeks, and hopefully it will be more than enough for what we are looking for. Our wallets full, we walk down to the harbour. The smell of the sea, even though it does not smell as fresh as when we visited the beach, reminds me of that, and my fingers graze yours as we walk.
Éomer: This is good, too, just ambling along with you. Until my stomach protests its neglect further and you raise an eyebrow at the noises I am making. We find a small open-air market that has tantalizing odours drifting from it. We investigate and find a place where we can choose a cut of meat and have it cooked to our satisfaction right in front of us.
We fill our platters with selections from the rest of the food offered and find a quiet table. The meat had been soaked in a sauce and was very tender. I eat efficiently and soon feel much better.
After our meal, we continue our explorations. I am fascinated by the variety of goods available here and you tug on me impatiently as I become distracted by a game with small moving pictures and many weapons.
Théo: “Paris has one of those boxes back at the warehouse. We can work out how to play with it later.” Now that we have eaten, it is time to find our goal. You smile and follow me and we walk along more streets, stopping occasionally to look in windows along the way. As we walk, the number of people around us grows until we emerge onto a wide street, and get pulled into the flow of people.
It unnerves me a little, being surrounded by so many and I suddenly wish that I was armed. The touch of your fingers grounds me, and we stay close as we walk. Your presence, and perhaps the stern frown on your face seems to be a deterrent to people coming too close to us, which makes it easier scan the shops on either side of us looking for the one we want. Frustrated, I realise we could spend all day looking and never find a leather shop, and then my gaze falls on a tall man in a black leather jacket walking towards us, his arm round a blonde woman. His eyes hold mine for a moment, then flick up to yours and he makes to stay out of our way, so I move to intercept him, blocking his way.
He studies us nervously, so I get straight to the point. “Where is the best shop in this town to purchase riding leathers from?” He blinks, surprised at the question. “Erm … the best? That would be Rawhyde.” He turns and motions over the street to a large archway, through which are even more shops. “It’s in the mall over there, straight through, it’s on the right. You can’t miss it.” I give him my thanks and let him go on his way, then we follow his directions into the mall.
Éomer: The large numbers of people in Karl's world can be overwhelming sometimes, but this Wellington is not as bad as other places Karl has taken us. I have learned to deal with crowds and I hold onto you as I push my way through the people.
Finally, we see the store that the stranger directed us to. The scent of leather fills my nostrils as we enter, and I stifle a groan. Having you and leather in close proximity is arousing, and I try to will my erection away. There are many items for sale here, not just pants, and I run my hands lightly over the goods, feeling the different textures and softness of the leathers.
I pull you closer, and murmur in your ear. "There are many things here. What did you want me in?" I decide that I will not place your hand on my groin so you can feel my reaction to this place, for I do not want to offend the other patrons.
Théo: I can feel your breath ghosting over my neck, and shiver, the smell of the place bringing back memories of winding soft leather thongs around your arms. I lean back against you, grinning as I feel your hardness pressing into me as I run my hands over the soft leather of the pants in front of us. “You need these, a tight … well fitting pair.” Black seems to be the predominant colour of the clothes in this shop, lots of plain black, some with stripes or numbers on, the occasional flash of red or brown and even blue, but little natural hide. No matter, black will suit you, a contrast to your blonde hair. “And a jacket, similar to this one.” I like the lace up details on the sides of Paris’ jacket.
My eyes roam the racks. So many to choose from, perhaps we should find you a pair of pants first. Then something else entirely catches my eye, and I let out a long breath at the thought. Mentally I add two pairs of fingerless leather gloves to the list. An attendant approaches us, asking if we need any help. “Yes, I wish to buy a pair of these.” I hold out a pair of pants to him. “For my companion.” He looks at you, running an appraising eye up and down your body, and I raise an eyebrow. He is wearing a pair himself, so I grasp his shoulders and turn him around so we can see how they fit. He lets out a squeak, and looks over his shoulder at me. “Are these suitable for wearing while riding a bike?” He nods nervously, and I turn him back to face us. He backs away, muttering something about checking sizes and tape measures, and as we wait for his return, I whisper in your ear. “You will have to try them on, to make sure they fit … and to make sure you can kneel in them. I want to see you on your knees in front of me in nothing else …”
Éomer: After that comment, I cannot decide whether to glare at you or bite you. Such talk is not helping my composure, and I suspect that you know it. I consider various forms of revenge and then decide that the best course is to accede to your wishes. You may torture me, but I will torture you at the same time, and thus we will both be happy.
The servant comes back with several pairs of black leather breeches and a long sort of ribbon with markings on it. He looks at you, and says, "I made an estimate of his size, based on his, uh . . . height."
He puts the leathers down, and approaches me with the ribbon. "I really need to measure you, just to be sure. If you'll just stand still, I'll . . . "
I am not sure what he intends to do with the ribbon, so I growl at him. "You will do what?" He is not a very large man, and he peeps in fright at my words and steps back a pace.
Théo: Seeing the alarm on his face, I decide to intervene. “What is your name?”
“My … my name? Derek, that’s my name but my friends call me Del.” He answers nervously.
I nod at him. “So, Derek. What do you need to measure?”
“His legs. His outside leg …” He draws his finger through the air, from your waist down to your ankle. “And his inside leg.” He points to your crotch and down to your ankle again before turning back to me. “So we can get the best possible fit.”
I can see the logic in that and look over at you, smiling with a shrug and a nod. “Let him do his work.” You let out a sigh and relax a little but he still approaches with caution. He measures you from waist to ankle, and then drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with wide eyes. Your eyebrows shoot up, and I have to turn away and hide my laughter behind my hand.
Éomer: This little man is kneeling at my feet and I am curious what he is going to do next. He puts one end of the measuring device on the inside of my ankle and then he reaches up and tries to put the other end in my groin, which is still full of my arousal. He gasps in shock and I jump backwards a bit.
"I did not give you permission to touch me there!" I hiss at him, debating whether to pin him to the wall by his neck. But your laughter overwhelms you and we stare at you until you get yourself under control. You agree to hold the upper end of the ribbon and after much fumbling around with my crotch, which I believe you are doing deliberately, we finally get my measurements and the little man retreats to find some correctly sized leggings. I debate fondling you into the same state that you have me, when the servant comes back with some selections and points us to rooms in the back of the store where we can test the fit of these leathers.
Théo: As we approach these changing rooms, we pass a small section of the shop tucked away in the back. My eyes are drawn to the items on the racks; all manner of harnesses and trappings, and I think for a moment that it is saddlery until I notice one of the harnesses displayed on a human model. My eyes widen and I wander in, fingering a fine leather collar. “Is there nothing that cannot be bought in this world?” I murmur, turning to find you close behind me. I can see by the way your eyes have darkened as you look round at the leather and back at me that the lust that has been rising in you needs to be sated, and my own has risen to meet it.
My hand moves across the bulge in your pants, feeling the heat beneath the fabric, and I stifle a groan. “Go and find a changing room, I will follow you soon.” A second attendant stands in the corner by a bench, sorting through a pile of what look like wrist cuffs, but it was something else that got my attention on another model, and she smiles as she finds me what I want.
Éomer: There is a hallway with a row of doors and I try the knob of one of them and enter. The room is small, with a mirror against the wall opposite the door, and it holds only a small chair and some sort of bench. There are hooks protruding from the walls and I hang up the garments that I am to try on. I loosen the buttons on the pants that I have been wearing, sliding them down and stepping out of them. I sigh blissfully as my cock is released from confinement at last.
Taking up the first pair, I slide one leg in and then the other, shivering at the feel of the soft leather on my bare skin. But I encounter a problem, the breeches fit tightly and my erection will not fit inside them, not in this state. I take them off and stroke myself idly, waiting for you.
Théo: As I enter the small room, you have your erection already in hand, a look of impatient frustration on your face. I smile at you and you glance down at what I have in my hands, impatience turning to curiosity. “Take your shirt off and turn around. I need to check that these will fit.” You obey me and watch in the mirror as I slide the arm bands onto your biceps one by one. I liked them as they are of very basic construction, more like they would be in our world. No zips or fabric that tears apart and seals again so easily. Wide tubes of leather each with a lace down one side that holds them firm on your arms, and a row of small eyelets further round.
When they are both secure, I move your hair out of the way and thread the longer leather lace backwards and forwards between the two, pulling it a little tighter every time. “Clasp your hands behind your back.” You do so willingly, and I pull the lace tighter which pulls your shoulders back, forcing your chest out and arching your back just a little. When I am satisfied with my handiwork, I knot the lace, and free your hair down your back, kissing a taut shoulder as I let my eyes travel down your reflection, coming to rest on your cock standing proud, so hard and swollen my mouth almost waters at the sight of it, but it will have to wait a little longer. “Kneel for me.”
Éomer: You have startled me with your commands, but I do as you ask almost without thinking about it. Now, I as I look at my reflection, I am uncertain. Always before, you have gained my consent before starting a game like this. Today you have taken it without asking and I have let you, and I am surprised by my own reactions.
The bands on my arms pull my shoulders back, and it is not as comfortable as the other times you have tied me, making me all the more aware that I am indeed bound. I consider fighting you on this, knowing that if I objected you would release me, but in truth, I have been thinking about your games since we came into this place and the smell of it hit me, evoking my memories. And I face the sure knowledge that I want this, want to surrender control to you.
You have not given me any rules to follow today, but always before the one basic rule has been to follow your every command. I will do that, and hope that I am doing the right thing.
I turn around, and kneel awkwardly, the position of my arms pulling me a little off balance. I brace my legs and lean back slightly, my hair brushing over my arms, and the ring in my chest feeling suddenly heavy as my nipples tighten. I groan at the sensations assailing me and raise my head to meet your eyes, ready for what you will do next.
Théo: The smell of leather in this place has me almost intoxicated to start with, and when I look down into your eyes, the sight of you bound and waiting on your knees before me has desire pooling in my belly, hot and demanding, my own breeches suddenly achingly tight. I brush the hair back from your forehead, and run my fingers down the side of your face. My eyes stay with yours as I unfasten and unzip my breeches, and push them down over my hips, unleashing my erection to bob in front of your face.
I take it in hand, lazily moving my fingers up and down it as you watch, the fingers of my other hand still threading through your hair. You lick your lips and I tease you for a little longer before painting the wet head over your lips, and your tongue flicks out making me hiss. “Take me in your mouth, Mer, make me come, but hold back your own release for me.”
Éomer: Your cock is glistening with moisture and I slowly advance my tongue and lick the drop up. You taste makes me even harder, and I shift forward on my knees to get a better grasp of you. My lips close around you and my tongue curls into your slit, wiggling against it, and I hear you gasp. I work my forward again, trying to get you all the way in my mouth without my hands is difficult. I relax my throat, locking my lips around you, curving my tongue around the hardness filling my mouth. You taste so good and you feel so good, smooth skin over steel, and I want to feast on you.
My own neglected hardness is aching, and I want to rub it against you, but I pull back. I create a suction with my lips and tongue and begin to work you, slicking you with my saliva and sliding my mouth along your length and back again. I wish that my hands were free to pull you into my face, but I settle for keeping a steady pace. Your hips start shifting and I increase the tempo, twisting my tongue inside my mouth to touch you everywhere. You become even harder and I know that you must be close.
Théo: It is hard to stay quiet as you move your mouth, your tongue, your lips on me, and I let my head fall back, groaning softly to the ceiling until I can take no more and my hands dig into your hair, pulling you closer, feeling my length slipping down your throat as my hips jerk sharply forward once, twice and I am there, body spasming as you greedily suck my seed from me, a silent scream on my lips.
My head hangs down, hands resting on your shoulders and our eyes meet as I let out a long ragged sigh. As I regain my composure, I pull up and fasten my breeches and run my fingers through your hair. “Get to your feet.” I know it is difficult with your arms bound, but you do as I ask, and as soon as you are on your feet, I push you back against the side wall, and kiss you, lapping at the taste of me on your mouth. As my tongue curls around yours, my fingers find the ring in your chest, and tease it, tugging at it and moving it in circles. You groan into my mouth, and I slip my hand down to rub your erection and you buck against me. With one last kiss, I slip down your body, until our previous positions are reversed, and I kneel in front of you, glancing at us in the mirror, watching as my tongue flicks out over your tortured flesh, seeing and hearing your head slam back against the wall with a dull thud as I ease the head between my lips, and then I can torture you no more and engulf your impressive length with my mouth. My tongue works around you as I take you further until the hairs at the base tickle my nose and as I swallow around you, I wonder if you will be able to keep silent when you come.
Éomer: The feel of your mouth closing around me is wonderful and I thrust my hips slowly into you. I place my palms flat against the wall behind me, wanting to bury them in your hair and hold you while you move across my aching hardness, but the leather on my arms prevents me from doing that. Your tongue is making me dizzy and I feel the pressure building up in my balls. Your silence when I was pleasuring you reminds me that while we may appear to be private, this room is not built sturdily and there are others within hearing range. The urge to voice my pleasure is strong but I clench my fists in my effort to hold it back. Your mouth is undeniable now, and I lunge forward, my cock pumping into your mouth. The feeling is too much to keep wholly quiet, but I manage to loose no more that a strangled groan as I empty myself into your waiting mouth, still coming as you pull all my pleasure from me.
I bow my head, my hair falling around me, grateful for the support of the wall behind me.
Théo: I lick every last drop from you before getting to my feet and smoothing the hair back from your face with a smile, turning you around and undoing the main lace. Your arms ease back into position, your shoulders relaxing forward, and I drop the lace to the bench while I rub some of the tension out of your muscles.
You turn back to face me, and I am just about to wrap my arms around your neck when there is a soft knock on the door. “Is everything okay? Do you need my assistance?”
We look at each other, and both burst into fits of laughter. I get mine under control long enough to give the man an answer. “Everything is fine Derek, thank you. We will be out shortly.”
He answers with a cheerful “Okay then!” and we hear him moving away. I wrap my arms around your neck, still chuckling. Our lips brush and you hold me close. “I think you had better try these pants on before Derek comes back and throws us out!”
Éomer: I snort at your comment. "He would be more likely to come in here and start feeling around again," I whisper, hoping I'm not overheard. The look on your face starts my laughter going anew.
But your treatment has relieved the difficulties I was previously having with the pants and they slide smoothly up my legs. I am amazed that these leathers are so soft when they are new. Usually it takes many hours in the saddle before my riding breeches feel this supple. Of course, these are not designed to protect against arrows and blades either. I tuck myself away carefully and pull up the closure. The breeches lay against my skin smoothly and I feel your hand following the curve of my buttocks encased in the leather.
I walk the few short paces that I can in this enclosed space and then smirk at you. I am wearing these leathers and the arm bands which you have left on my biceps, not exactly what you mentioned but still close. I hold your eyes and drop slowly to my knees.
"Well?" I say huskily, "Do they fit?
Théo: It does not matter that you have so recently sucked me to completion. Watching you fall to your knees in front of me, wearing nothing but tight black leather, the armbands encasing your biceps adding to the picture I had in mind, has my desire rousing again. Only you are capable of keeping me in this state, and the memory of the utterly perfect sight before me will keep me more than warm during our time apart. I can see by the look in your eyes that you know exactly what you do to me, and the tone of your voice is almost my undoing.
“They fit.” I growl, reaching a hand down to you. Your hand clasps around my arm and I pull you to your feet, pushing you straight back against the wall and plundering your mouth. My hand closes around one leather clad bicep, the hide now as warm as your skin, and I groan into your mouth at the feel of it, thinking they belong right where they are. “We need to go … pay for our things and get back to the warehouse.” And the other things I had seen, the leather gloves with no fingers. With a moan, I pull your arms from around me, threading our fingers together and pushing your hands flat against the wall on either side of your head as I kiss you harder, imagining the feel of the gloves on your hands … my hands … I pull away from you almost snarling with frustration, knowing if we do not leave this room now, we will end up giving Derek plenty to listen to at the door. “I will settle the account while you change.” I grab my jacket, and just before I open the door, turn back and kiss you lightly. “You unravel me, my love.”
Éomer: I unravel you? I think that applies to you, for you have done things to me and drawn responses from me which I did not know I could give. I have had a fair share of bed partners in my life, but my experience is small compared to yours. The quivering anticipation of what you will do to me next is only a part of the reasons for my responses to you. I have never bedded anyone I loved before and that truth alone explains much of why I desire you so.
But there is still the matter of my revenge to consider. I walk out of the small room to find Derek assisting another patron with sizes in the hallway.
"Théo has gone to pay for our merchandise, but I would like to wear the pants and these now." I raise my arms, showing the bands around my biceps. "Is this possible?"
His eyes go wide and he gulps, before shaking his head violently. I am on the verge of inquiring after his health, when he says, "You . . . you're . . . oh my god." He shakes his head again. "Of course, let me take off the security tag and you can walk out with them. Just come to the front with me to make sure they're paid for. And, uh . . . your shirt."
I smile at him and thank him for reminding me. I pull on the shirt and fold Karl's breeches, putting the lace to the armbands in a pocket. Derek brings a strange device and the small white thing adhered to the pants pulls off easily and then gives me a sack for the old clothes. I walk to the front and find you just finishing with your purchases. Your eyes widen at the sight of me still wearing the leathers, and I smile quietly to myself, knowing that you cannot see that I am still wearing the armbands. I am anxious to get you back to the warehouse.
Théo: By the time I reach the counter and find the attendant who helped me out with the armbands, I have regained my composure. I smile at her as she adds up the cost of our things. After trying on a pair of the fingerless gloves, and trying my best not to let my imagination get the best of me, I add those and a slightly bigger pair for you to the bag as your hands are broader than mine. She gives me the other small item I selected with a wink, and I slip it in my pocket as I hear you approach. Turning, I am pleasantly surprised to find your legs still cased in leather, and do not miss the little almost smug smile on your face as you know what this will do to me. And I am amused to see you have a very flustered Derek in tow, muttering under his breath.
The total cost of all our purchases leaves us with plenty of money to spare, so I enlist Derek’s help in finding a suitable jacket. He brings a few styles for us to look at, and the one that I see catches your eye has fringes on the back and front, and after having you try a couple of different sizes on, we find one that fits well.
Éomer: The journey back to the warehouse is not a relaxed stroll. I think we are both anticipating the things that we can do with each other when we are not constrained by space and lack of privacy. But I keep my hands on you, an arm wrapped around you waist. As we walk, I pull you to me occasionally for kisses on your lips or neck, and a whispered, “I love you,” in your ear. This trip to buy me garments has been enjoyable, as are all the times I am free to spend with you.
When we are back at last, I pin you against the wall, as you did me earlier. I kiss you slowly, enjoying the tastes and textures of your mouth, while I rub myself against you. Finally, I want more contact and I pick your legs up, holding you against the wall while I wrap your legs around my waist. The increased sensation has me growling into your mouth.
I pull back, looking into you eyes, letting you see the want in mine, my lips hover over yours, breathing you in.
Théo: A lazy smile grows on my face at the desire that is plain in your eyes and I consider the options. There are worse places to be than trapped between a wall and you, your leather covered hardness grinding against my own, but there are better places too. My tongue darts out over your lips and I squirm in your arms, increasing the pressure between us, groaning when you buck back against me. I drag my shirt off over my head, and kiss you hard as I unfasten two of the buttons on yours before remembering the gloves.
“In the bag.” I manage to gasp out in between kisses. “Gloves.” You let me down, and I bend down and rummage through the bag, finding them easily, throwing the larger pair to you before pulling mine on. Standing, I toe my boots off before turning back to see you flexing your fingers, palms covered in leather. There is something about the thought of your hands in those gloves moving over my body that almost makes me breathless.
Éomer: The leather of the gloves is soft and smooth and they fit my hands perfectly. I flex my fingers a few times, experimentally, and they move with me, the leather thin and supple. You turn back around with your pair on, and your shirt off. I take two strides and slam you back against the wall, my palms moving over your shoulders, down the planes of you chest. I put the center of my hand over the ring in your nipple and press down, making circular motions, moving the ring around.
You writhe against me and I cup your face with my other hand, moving the leather over your features, finally stopping at your lips, feeling them tighten against my palm through the fine hide. We are both panting and your hands move to the buttons of my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. You gasp when you realize I am still wearing the armbands, and your leather clad hands tighten on my shoulders. Desire is racing through me hot and hard, and I press you into the wall again, my body rocking against you, almost without my will.
Théo: I am overtaken by a wave of intense lust as your leather clad hands roughly caress me, almost forgetting to breath as one slides over my face, the smell of it combined with your scent overpowering my senses. And then the armbands are revealed, still in place and the last of my reason leaves me along with a feral snarl. You have me pinned against the wall, but I want more, want your hands around my wrists, want to surrender to you … but I have never … and the words will not come. I can feel your hardness grinding into me as my hands slip down over your leather clad biceps and I assault your mouth, plundering, taking, and you match me, kisses becoming battles which neither of us is willing to concede, not this time.
Bracing my back against the wall, I push away from it, pushing you back and taking a step forward to follow you, a challenge in my eyes, almost daring you to act. But before I can take another, you close the gap between us with a growl. You push me forcibly back by my shoulders, your hands slipping down my arms to my wrists which you grasp tightly and pin against the wall, and my body arches to meet yours as our mouths clash together again.
Éomer: My need is becoming overwhelming and there is only one thing that will satisfy it and I am through playing games with you today. My lips never leave yours as I shift your hands so that both of yours are caught in my left hand and my right hand moves swiftly down your torso to dig in your pockets. I find what I expected there, knowing how practical you can be. I transfer the item to my own pockets and then open your pants, your hardness springing free into my glove. I slide my hand over you a few times, noting your unconscious reactions to the contact, and then push the pants down to your knees, running the leather over your sleek thighs as I do so. You are surging against me, struggling, but I lean my heavier body against you to keep you in place.
"Turn around, Théo." My voice is rough and ragged, and I face you to the wall, keeping my hand locked around your wrists above your head. One-handed, I open the leather pants, freeing my own aching hardness. I retrieve the tube of lotion and smear it liberally over my cock. It is awkward with one hand and I make a mess of the glove.
I stop for a moment, considering. I had intended to plunge into you, knowing that you are so close to the edge that you are ready for me. But you have reacted so strongly to the touch of the leather, that I wonder . . .
I drift my fingers softly along your crevice and then let my leatherclad palm rest against the curve of your buttock. You push back against me, seeking more, and I pull your hips away from the wall slightly, bringing your hands lower and tilting your pelvis until I have you at the angle I want you.
Ignoring the moaning and cursing coming from your mouth, I coat the glove thoroughly and bring my fingers against your opening. I push one finger inside a little, up to the point where the leather starts. You whimper and I push it the rest of the way in, the leather scraping against your tight muscles. I grin at the sounds you are making now and add another finger, then a third. I twist my fingers around inside you, letting you feel the leather caressing your most intimate parts.
Théo: I lost all control as you slid your gloved hand down my thighs, giving in to the sensation, my body bucking and squirming under your touch. And then you do what I do not expect, slicked leather pushing into me. The rest of the glove scrapes over the skin of my buttocks as you thrust your fingers in and out, and I groan wantonly at the feel of the leather inside me.
I struggle against your grip, but you hold me firm, and a deeper thrust has my back arching, my head snapping back. I push back against you, my spine on fire as you catch that sweet spot inside and I cry out, not caring how desperate I sound, how much I need you to possess me like this. I have never come as completely undone as I am right now, I feel like I am hanging by a thread. My erection is so hard it aches, aches for your touch, but I don’t want you to stop fucking me with your leather bound fingers even though I need to feel your cock in me, don’t want your leather bound hand to let go of my wrists, no matter how hard I struggle.
As my body quivers, I hardly know what I am saying as words begin to tumble from me. “Mer, please … I cannot … please, I need … make me … touch me … do not let go, do not let go …”
Éomer: Though I know it is not what you mean, I lean forward and murmur in your ear. "I will never let you go, Théo."
I continue to move my fingers in you, watching you moan and twist against the invasion of your body. My own cock is leaping and twitching at your pleading, pearlescent liquid flowing from it almost continuously. I do not know how much longer I can maintain control, the urge to sink myself in your sweet body is becoming irresistible.
When I can withstand the craving for you no longer, I withdraw my fingers slowly, your keening cry at the loss filling my ears. I maintain my grip on your wrists while I steady your hips with my free hand, and I sheath myself in you with one long thrust.
Your body tightens around me immediately, but I growl, "Not yet," and grasp the base of your erection as tightly as I can. I plunge into your over and over, relishing your tight heat around me. When I feel myself begin to fall, I release my hold on you and wrap my leather encased palm around your hard length, rubbing you in time with my strokes. "Now!"
Théo: Your words and tight hold deny me what I crave until finally, leather and skin move on my aching flesh as you slam into me, and all I can do is brace my legs as I feel it approaching, still fighting your grip even though I have no desire for you to let go of me. And with one word you release me, my hips thrust my cock into your hand, and my seed erupts through your fingers, a long ragged wail tearing itself from my lungs. Your voice joins mine with a roar as you come so hard, so deep inside me, gripping my wrists with a bruising intensity, twitching into me long after you are spent.
I have never given myself over to someone like that before. However much I trusted other partners, and as many have been the men of my éored, those I have trusted with my life, I could never have given them the control that they have so often given me. But what we share has shown me there is an even deeper level of trust, a complete trust borne out of love … and I wish I could have found the words to ask for what you gave me.
As we both stand panting, your body pressed up against my back, your fingers loosen from around my wrists and I lean forward, resting my forehead on my hands. Your arm slips round my waist, and you kiss my sweat soaked shoulder as you slip from me. My body still trembles from the force of it, and I know we need to move, to collapse somewhere soft, but cannot think straight yet. The power of coherent speech seems to have deserted me also. “You … leather … lethal!” I manage with a little chuckle quickly followed by another ragged sigh and a tremor.
Éomer: You are still trembling, and I help you out of your pants, easing them off of your feet. The couch is but a few steps away and I pick you up and move us there, pulling a blanket off the back to cover you in. The leather of my pants is sticking to my sweat covered legs, but I will tend to them later.
I settle you onto my lap, peeling the glove away. “Ruined, I think,” I say before tossing it on the floor. I comb my fingers through your hair, pushing the sweaty strands away from your face, kissing you, whispering how much I love you. I bring your wrists up to my mouth, licking and soothing the red marks left by my fingers. I did not intend to hurt you. Your shaking stops eventually and you lean your head against my shoulder. I rub my face slowly against your hair, feeling content, my body is sated, and you are warm and relaxed in my arms.
Théo: As you tend to my wrists, I catch your eye and shake my head with a smile, not wanting you to worry over the marks. “They will have faded by morning.” Comfortable and relaxed, I purr as you rub your face against me. As your arm settles round my waist, my fingers roam over the leather armband. They fit you so well, like a second skin. As I lie against you, wrapped up in you, happy and warm and so utterly spent, I pull off my own gloves, and let them drop from the couch.
My fingers move in circles on your neck and I kiss you softly. I wonder if you realise that I goaded you into it? I knew you were so full of lust that if I pushed you, you would do what I wanted, and that is not something I am proud of.
I squirm a little on your lap. “I think we are both sticking to your pants, and much as I like them, we would be more comfortable with them off.” Slipping off you, I recline back against the couch, still half wrapped up in the blanket as you smile and get to your feet, pulling them and your boots off, and sitting back down on the edge of the seat. I run my fingers over an armband again, toying with the lace. “Do you want me to take them off?”
Éomer: I watch your fingers playing with the leather, and shrug. "Not necessary. They are light enough that I do not notice them." I grin at you. "Besides, you seem to enjoy them."
Although those words do not seem strong enough to describe your reactions or my response to your challenge. I reacted exactly like a stallion whose territory is being disputed and his mares stolen. I have seen the same thing over and over in the wide fields of the Mark, and I am lucky that you are a partner strong enough to withstand my assault. In this world, my body is bigger and stronger than yours, and I will have to be more careful of you in the future.
I am comfortable now that the pants are off, and the bands on my arms truly do not bother me. We are both sweaty and sticky, and I know we will have to bathe soon. I will take the leather off then, so it will not shrink.
Théo: I snort with laughter at your comment. “Yes, I do, I enjoy seeing you wearing them.” I pull you back down to the couch with a grin and we lie together for a while, limbs tangled together, until bathing becomes a necessity. “There is a large bath in the room at the back.” I tell you as we clamber off the couch and head off towards the bathroom, stopping for juice in the kitchen on the way. The bath is large and round, and the room fills with steam as the tub fills with water. I comb your hair through while we wait, kissing your shoulders every now and again as I work. When I finish, I lay down the comb, and unlace the bands one at a time, slipping them down your arms, and putting them to one side.
When the bath is full, the water is hot and deep. We get in, and you pull me to you, slipping your arms around me. I lie with my back against your broad chest, my head back on your shoulder and play with the hairs on your arms and I can think of no where I would rather be right now.
NC-17 for light bondage and leather kink
I grin at the loud rumbling sound that disturbed my rest. Propping myself up on one elbow, I let my fingers roam through the fur on your chest, my eyes finding yours as you purr and stretch under my touch. Your hand reaches out to stroke my hair, and I lean into it, closing my eyes and rubbing my head against your palm as a cat would. When I open my eyes again, I catch sight of your … Karl’s old breeches, hanging by one leg over the back of the couch where they were thrown earlier in our haste to remove your clothing, and my mind starts to work.
I lower my mouth to your chest, kissing my way slowly up it as I think. Paris is quite happy to answer my questions about this world, and went into detail on how trade and commerce work here. How merchants no longer travel from town to town selling their wares, rather have fixed places of business, “shops”. I quizzed him on where he had his clothes made, and he laughed, and told me that clothes were very rarely made for a person unless they were incredibly rich, in which case they were made by expensive “designers” who I gather are not unlike seamstresses. In this world, clothes are usually bought in these shops, which I now realise we have passed many times on our travels.
I slide my lips over your collar bone. “I think we should take the money we won playing darts and find you some riding leathers, breeches and a jacket. You are too big for Karl’s clothes and as we are able to spend time here regularly now, I think it is only fitting that the Third Marshall be properly attired.” Biting down gently, I suck on your salty skin before teasing.
“And I want to see you in leather.”
Éomer: My stomach is speaking to me, but you sliding around on my body has other parts of me speaking as well, and it is difficult to decide . . . until you say you want me in leather. Leather is starting to have distinct memories for me.
I roll us over and pin you under me. "All right, but I want you first . .. now!" I shift your thighs apart with my knees and hold your hip down with one hand, while I guide myself into you with my other hand. You are still slick and loosened from earlier and I ease in without resistance, going slowly, wanting to feel every bump and ridge of muscle as you clasp me. When I am hilted deep within you, I lean over you and wrap my hands around your strong shoulders, pulling you to me. I move slowly, pulling almost all the way out each time, revelling in the feel of your tight body around me.
"Touch yourself, Théo." And you put your hand on your hardness and I feel myself starting to fall over the edge. Finally, I come, groaning and shuddering as I rock my hips into you, as you add your voice to mine and your warm juice covers us.
I shift myself to the side, so my weight is not on you, nuzzling your neck. "I know you have some plan in mind. Where are we going?"
Théo: It is my turn to purr contentedly as you nuzzle me. “Exploring.” I grin at you, not minding in the least that we are sticking together. “We will walk up from the harbour into the city, and find somewhere that sells leather garments. I have heard of places called malls where there are many shops, so surely we will find what we are looking for.” I nudge your head up, and brush my lips over ours. “And we will need to find something to eat.” My stomach growls in agreement. “We need to keep your strength up for later.” I suck gently on your bottom lip. “Shower first?” I push you back, peeling my skin from yours, laughing as I get to my feet and hold out my hand which you grasp and I pull you off the bed and we head to the shower.
A little later, I walk downstairs to feed Gizmo before we leave, and to retrieve our money from Paris’ bookshelf. You come up behind me as I reach up and take the heavy leather-bound copy of Ivanhoe off the shelf, opening it to reveal a pile of notes pressed flat by the weight of the book. There is more than just our darts winnings as I have had a couple of good nights at the Ship these past weeks, and hopefully it will be more than enough for what we are looking for. Our wallets full, we walk down to the harbour. The smell of the sea, even though it does not smell as fresh as when we visited the beach, reminds me of that, and my fingers graze yours as we walk.
Éomer: This is good, too, just ambling along with you. Until my stomach protests its neglect further and you raise an eyebrow at the noises I am making. We find a small open-air market that has tantalizing odours drifting from it. We investigate and find a place where we can choose a cut of meat and have it cooked to our satisfaction right in front of us.
We fill our platters with selections from the rest of the food offered and find a quiet table. The meat had been soaked in a sauce and was very tender. I eat efficiently and soon feel much better.
After our meal, we continue our explorations. I am fascinated by the variety of goods available here and you tug on me impatiently as I become distracted by a game with small moving pictures and many weapons.
Théo: “Paris has one of those boxes back at the warehouse. We can work out how to play with it later.” Now that we have eaten, it is time to find our goal. You smile and follow me and we walk along more streets, stopping occasionally to look in windows along the way. As we walk, the number of people around us grows until we emerge onto a wide street, and get pulled into the flow of people.
It unnerves me a little, being surrounded by so many and I suddenly wish that I was armed. The touch of your fingers grounds me, and we stay close as we walk. Your presence, and perhaps the stern frown on your face seems to be a deterrent to people coming too close to us, which makes it easier scan the shops on either side of us looking for the one we want. Frustrated, I realise we could spend all day looking and never find a leather shop, and then my gaze falls on a tall man in a black leather jacket walking towards us, his arm round a blonde woman. His eyes hold mine for a moment, then flick up to yours and he makes to stay out of our way, so I move to intercept him, blocking his way.
He studies us nervously, so I get straight to the point. “Where is the best shop in this town to purchase riding leathers from?” He blinks, surprised at the question. “Erm … the best? That would be Rawhyde.” He turns and motions over the street to a large archway, through which are even more shops. “It’s in the mall over there, straight through, it’s on the right. You can’t miss it.” I give him my thanks and let him go on his way, then we follow his directions into the mall.
Éomer: The large numbers of people in Karl's world can be overwhelming sometimes, but this Wellington is not as bad as other places Karl has taken us. I have learned to deal with crowds and I hold onto you as I push my way through the people.
Finally, we see the store that the stranger directed us to. The scent of leather fills my nostrils as we enter, and I stifle a groan. Having you and leather in close proximity is arousing, and I try to will my erection away. There are many items for sale here, not just pants, and I run my hands lightly over the goods, feeling the different textures and softness of the leathers.
I pull you closer, and murmur in your ear. "There are many things here. What did you want me in?" I decide that I will not place your hand on my groin so you can feel my reaction to this place, for I do not want to offend the other patrons.
Théo: I can feel your breath ghosting over my neck, and shiver, the smell of the place bringing back memories of winding soft leather thongs around your arms. I lean back against you, grinning as I feel your hardness pressing into me as I run my hands over the soft leather of the pants in front of us. “You need these, a tight … well fitting pair.” Black seems to be the predominant colour of the clothes in this shop, lots of plain black, some with stripes or numbers on, the occasional flash of red or brown and even blue, but little natural hide. No matter, black will suit you, a contrast to your blonde hair. “And a jacket, similar to this one.” I like the lace up details on the sides of Paris’ jacket.
My eyes roam the racks. So many to choose from, perhaps we should find you a pair of pants first. Then something else entirely catches my eye, and I let out a long breath at the thought. Mentally I add two pairs of fingerless leather gloves to the list. An attendant approaches us, asking if we need any help. “Yes, I wish to buy a pair of these.” I hold out a pair of pants to him. “For my companion.” He looks at you, running an appraising eye up and down your body, and I raise an eyebrow. He is wearing a pair himself, so I grasp his shoulders and turn him around so we can see how they fit. He lets out a squeak, and looks over his shoulder at me. “Are these suitable for wearing while riding a bike?” He nods nervously, and I turn him back to face us. He backs away, muttering something about checking sizes and tape measures, and as we wait for his return, I whisper in your ear. “You will have to try them on, to make sure they fit … and to make sure you can kneel in them. I want to see you on your knees in front of me in nothing else …”
Éomer: After that comment, I cannot decide whether to glare at you or bite you. Such talk is not helping my composure, and I suspect that you know it. I consider various forms of revenge and then decide that the best course is to accede to your wishes. You may torture me, but I will torture you at the same time, and thus we will both be happy.
The servant comes back with several pairs of black leather breeches and a long sort of ribbon with markings on it. He looks at you, and says, "I made an estimate of his size, based on his, uh . . . height."
He puts the leathers down, and approaches me with the ribbon. "I really need to measure you, just to be sure. If you'll just stand still, I'll . . . "
I am not sure what he intends to do with the ribbon, so I growl at him. "You will do what?" He is not a very large man, and he peeps in fright at my words and steps back a pace.
Théo: Seeing the alarm on his face, I decide to intervene. “What is your name?”
“My … my name? Derek, that’s my name but my friends call me Del.” He answers nervously.
I nod at him. “So, Derek. What do you need to measure?”
“His legs. His outside leg …” He draws his finger through the air, from your waist down to your ankle. “And his inside leg.” He points to your crotch and down to your ankle again before turning back to me. “So we can get the best possible fit.”
I can see the logic in that and look over at you, smiling with a shrug and a nod. “Let him do his work.” You let out a sigh and relax a little but he still approaches with caution. He measures you from waist to ankle, and then drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with wide eyes. Your eyebrows shoot up, and I have to turn away and hide my laughter behind my hand.
Éomer: This little man is kneeling at my feet and I am curious what he is going to do next. He puts one end of the measuring device on the inside of my ankle and then he reaches up and tries to put the other end in my groin, which is still full of my arousal. He gasps in shock and I jump backwards a bit.
"I did not give you permission to touch me there!" I hiss at him, debating whether to pin him to the wall by his neck. But your laughter overwhelms you and we stare at you until you get yourself under control. You agree to hold the upper end of the ribbon and after much fumbling around with my crotch, which I believe you are doing deliberately, we finally get my measurements and the little man retreats to find some correctly sized leggings. I debate fondling you into the same state that you have me, when the servant comes back with some selections and points us to rooms in the back of the store where we can test the fit of these leathers.
Théo: As we approach these changing rooms, we pass a small section of the shop tucked away in the back. My eyes are drawn to the items on the racks; all manner of harnesses and trappings, and I think for a moment that it is saddlery until I notice one of the harnesses displayed on a human model. My eyes widen and I wander in, fingering a fine leather collar. “Is there nothing that cannot be bought in this world?” I murmur, turning to find you close behind me. I can see by the way your eyes have darkened as you look round at the leather and back at me that the lust that has been rising in you needs to be sated, and my own has risen to meet it.
My hand moves across the bulge in your pants, feeling the heat beneath the fabric, and I stifle a groan. “Go and find a changing room, I will follow you soon.” A second attendant stands in the corner by a bench, sorting through a pile of what look like wrist cuffs, but it was something else that got my attention on another model, and she smiles as she finds me what I want.
Éomer: There is a hallway with a row of doors and I try the knob of one of them and enter. The room is small, with a mirror against the wall opposite the door, and it holds only a small chair and some sort of bench. There are hooks protruding from the walls and I hang up the garments that I am to try on. I loosen the buttons on the pants that I have been wearing, sliding them down and stepping out of them. I sigh blissfully as my cock is released from confinement at last.
Taking up the first pair, I slide one leg in and then the other, shivering at the feel of the soft leather on my bare skin. But I encounter a problem, the breeches fit tightly and my erection will not fit inside them, not in this state. I take them off and stroke myself idly, waiting for you.
Théo: As I enter the small room, you have your erection already in hand, a look of impatient frustration on your face. I smile at you and you glance down at what I have in my hands, impatience turning to curiosity. “Take your shirt off and turn around. I need to check that these will fit.” You obey me and watch in the mirror as I slide the arm bands onto your biceps one by one. I liked them as they are of very basic construction, more like they would be in our world. No zips or fabric that tears apart and seals again so easily. Wide tubes of leather each with a lace down one side that holds them firm on your arms, and a row of small eyelets further round.
When they are both secure, I move your hair out of the way and thread the longer leather lace backwards and forwards between the two, pulling it a little tighter every time. “Clasp your hands behind your back.” You do so willingly, and I pull the lace tighter which pulls your shoulders back, forcing your chest out and arching your back just a little. When I am satisfied with my handiwork, I knot the lace, and free your hair down your back, kissing a taut shoulder as I let my eyes travel down your reflection, coming to rest on your cock standing proud, so hard and swollen my mouth almost waters at the sight of it, but it will have to wait a little longer. “Kneel for me.”
Éomer: You have startled me with your commands, but I do as you ask almost without thinking about it. Now, I as I look at my reflection, I am uncertain. Always before, you have gained my consent before starting a game like this. Today you have taken it without asking and I have let you, and I am surprised by my own reactions.
The bands on my arms pull my shoulders back, and it is not as comfortable as the other times you have tied me, making me all the more aware that I am indeed bound. I consider fighting you on this, knowing that if I objected you would release me, but in truth, I have been thinking about your games since we came into this place and the smell of it hit me, evoking my memories. And I face the sure knowledge that I want this, want to surrender control to you.
You have not given me any rules to follow today, but always before the one basic rule has been to follow your every command. I will do that, and hope that I am doing the right thing.
I turn around, and kneel awkwardly, the position of my arms pulling me a little off balance. I brace my legs and lean back slightly, my hair brushing over my arms, and the ring in my chest feeling suddenly heavy as my nipples tighten. I groan at the sensations assailing me and raise my head to meet your eyes, ready for what you will do next.
Théo: The smell of leather in this place has me almost intoxicated to start with, and when I look down into your eyes, the sight of you bound and waiting on your knees before me has desire pooling in my belly, hot and demanding, my own breeches suddenly achingly tight. I brush the hair back from your forehead, and run my fingers down the side of your face. My eyes stay with yours as I unfasten and unzip my breeches, and push them down over my hips, unleashing my erection to bob in front of your face.
I take it in hand, lazily moving my fingers up and down it as you watch, the fingers of my other hand still threading through your hair. You lick your lips and I tease you for a little longer before painting the wet head over your lips, and your tongue flicks out making me hiss. “Take me in your mouth, Mer, make me come, but hold back your own release for me.”
Éomer: Your cock is glistening with moisture and I slowly advance my tongue and lick the drop up. You taste makes me even harder, and I shift forward on my knees to get a better grasp of you. My lips close around you and my tongue curls into your slit, wiggling against it, and I hear you gasp. I work my forward again, trying to get you all the way in my mouth without my hands is difficult. I relax my throat, locking my lips around you, curving my tongue around the hardness filling my mouth. You taste so good and you feel so good, smooth skin over steel, and I want to feast on you.
My own neglected hardness is aching, and I want to rub it against you, but I pull back. I create a suction with my lips and tongue and begin to work you, slicking you with my saliva and sliding my mouth along your length and back again. I wish that my hands were free to pull you into my face, but I settle for keeping a steady pace. Your hips start shifting and I increase the tempo, twisting my tongue inside my mouth to touch you everywhere. You become even harder and I know that you must be close.
Théo: It is hard to stay quiet as you move your mouth, your tongue, your lips on me, and I let my head fall back, groaning softly to the ceiling until I can take no more and my hands dig into your hair, pulling you closer, feeling my length slipping down your throat as my hips jerk sharply forward once, twice and I am there, body spasming as you greedily suck my seed from me, a silent scream on my lips.
My head hangs down, hands resting on your shoulders and our eyes meet as I let out a long ragged sigh. As I regain my composure, I pull up and fasten my breeches and run my fingers through your hair. “Get to your feet.” I know it is difficult with your arms bound, but you do as I ask, and as soon as you are on your feet, I push you back against the side wall, and kiss you, lapping at the taste of me on your mouth. As my tongue curls around yours, my fingers find the ring in your chest, and tease it, tugging at it and moving it in circles. You groan into my mouth, and I slip my hand down to rub your erection and you buck against me. With one last kiss, I slip down your body, until our previous positions are reversed, and I kneel in front of you, glancing at us in the mirror, watching as my tongue flicks out over your tortured flesh, seeing and hearing your head slam back against the wall with a dull thud as I ease the head between my lips, and then I can torture you no more and engulf your impressive length with my mouth. My tongue works around you as I take you further until the hairs at the base tickle my nose and as I swallow around you, I wonder if you will be able to keep silent when you come.
Éomer: The feel of your mouth closing around me is wonderful and I thrust my hips slowly into you. I place my palms flat against the wall behind me, wanting to bury them in your hair and hold you while you move across my aching hardness, but the leather on my arms prevents me from doing that. Your tongue is making me dizzy and I feel the pressure building up in my balls. Your silence when I was pleasuring you reminds me that while we may appear to be private, this room is not built sturdily and there are others within hearing range. The urge to voice my pleasure is strong but I clench my fists in my effort to hold it back. Your mouth is undeniable now, and I lunge forward, my cock pumping into your mouth. The feeling is too much to keep wholly quiet, but I manage to loose no more that a strangled groan as I empty myself into your waiting mouth, still coming as you pull all my pleasure from me.
I bow my head, my hair falling around me, grateful for the support of the wall behind me.
Théo: I lick every last drop from you before getting to my feet and smoothing the hair back from your face with a smile, turning you around and undoing the main lace. Your arms ease back into position, your shoulders relaxing forward, and I drop the lace to the bench while I rub some of the tension out of your muscles.
You turn back to face me, and I am just about to wrap my arms around your neck when there is a soft knock on the door. “Is everything okay? Do you need my assistance?”
We look at each other, and both burst into fits of laughter. I get mine under control long enough to give the man an answer. “Everything is fine Derek, thank you. We will be out shortly.”
He answers with a cheerful “Okay then!” and we hear him moving away. I wrap my arms around your neck, still chuckling. Our lips brush and you hold me close. “I think you had better try these pants on before Derek comes back and throws us out!”
Éomer: I snort at your comment. "He would be more likely to come in here and start feeling around again," I whisper, hoping I'm not overheard. The look on your face starts my laughter going anew.
But your treatment has relieved the difficulties I was previously having with the pants and they slide smoothly up my legs. I am amazed that these leathers are so soft when they are new. Usually it takes many hours in the saddle before my riding breeches feel this supple. Of course, these are not designed to protect against arrows and blades either. I tuck myself away carefully and pull up the closure. The breeches lay against my skin smoothly and I feel your hand following the curve of my buttocks encased in the leather.
I walk the few short paces that I can in this enclosed space and then smirk at you. I am wearing these leathers and the arm bands which you have left on my biceps, not exactly what you mentioned but still close. I hold your eyes and drop slowly to my knees.
"Well?" I say huskily, "Do they fit?
Théo: It does not matter that you have so recently sucked me to completion. Watching you fall to your knees in front of me, wearing nothing but tight black leather, the armbands encasing your biceps adding to the picture I had in mind, has my desire rousing again. Only you are capable of keeping me in this state, and the memory of the utterly perfect sight before me will keep me more than warm during our time apart. I can see by the look in your eyes that you know exactly what you do to me, and the tone of your voice is almost my undoing.
“They fit.” I growl, reaching a hand down to you. Your hand clasps around my arm and I pull you to your feet, pushing you straight back against the wall and plundering your mouth. My hand closes around one leather clad bicep, the hide now as warm as your skin, and I groan into your mouth at the feel of it, thinking they belong right where they are. “We need to go … pay for our things and get back to the warehouse.” And the other things I had seen, the leather gloves with no fingers. With a moan, I pull your arms from around me, threading our fingers together and pushing your hands flat against the wall on either side of your head as I kiss you harder, imagining the feel of the gloves on your hands … my hands … I pull away from you almost snarling with frustration, knowing if we do not leave this room now, we will end up giving Derek plenty to listen to at the door. “I will settle the account while you change.” I grab my jacket, and just before I open the door, turn back and kiss you lightly. “You unravel me, my love.”
Éomer: I unravel you? I think that applies to you, for you have done things to me and drawn responses from me which I did not know I could give. I have had a fair share of bed partners in my life, but my experience is small compared to yours. The quivering anticipation of what you will do to me next is only a part of the reasons for my responses to you. I have never bedded anyone I loved before and that truth alone explains much of why I desire you so.
But there is still the matter of my revenge to consider. I walk out of the small room to find Derek assisting another patron with sizes in the hallway.
"Théo has gone to pay for our merchandise, but I would like to wear the pants and these now." I raise my arms, showing the bands around my biceps. "Is this possible?"
His eyes go wide and he gulps, before shaking his head violently. I am on the verge of inquiring after his health, when he says, "You . . . you're . . . oh my god." He shakes his head again. "Of course, let me take off the security tag and you can walk out with them. Just come to the front with me to make sure they're paid for. And, uh . . . your shirt."
I smile at him and thank him for reminding me. I pull on the shirt and fold Karl's breeches, putting the lace to the armbands in a pocket. Derek brings a strange device and the small white thing adhered to the pants pulls off easily and then gives me a sack for the old clothes. I walk to the front and find you just finishing with your purchases. Your eyes widen at the sight of me still wearing the leathers, and I smile quietly to myself, knowing that you cannot see that I am still wearing the armbands. I am anxious to get you back to the warehouse.
Théo: By the time I reach the counter and find the attendant who helped me out with the armbands, I have regained my composure. I smile at her as she adds up the cost of our things. After trying on a pair of the fingerless gloves, and trying my best not to let my imagination get the best of me, I add those and a slightly bigger pair for you to the bag as your hands are broader than mine. She gives me the other small item I selected with a wink, and I slip it in my pocket as I hear you approach. Turning, I am pleasantly surprised to find your legs still cased in leather, and do not miss the little almost smug smile on your face as you know what this will do to me. And I am amused to see you have a very flustered Derek in tow, muttering under his breath.
The total cost of all our purchases leaves us with plenty of money to spare, so I enlist Derek’s help in finding a suitable jacket. He brings a few styles for us to look at, and the one that I see catches your eye has fringes on the back and front, and after having you try a couple of different sizes on, we find one that fits well.
Éomer: The journey back to the warehouse is not a relaxed stroll. I think we are both anticipating the things that we can do with each other when we are not constrained by space and lack of privacy. But I keep my hands on you, an arm wrapped around you waist. As we walk, I pull you to me occasionally for kisses on your lips or neck, and a whispered, “I love you,” in your ear. This trip to buy me garments has been enjoyable, as are all the times I am free to spend with you.
When we are back at last, I pin you against the wall, as you did me earlier. I kiss you slowly, enjoying the tastes and textures of your mouth, while I rub myself against you. Finally, I want more contact and I pick your legs up, holding you against the wall while I wrap your legs around my waist. The increased sensation has me growling into your mouth.
I pull back, looking into you eyes, letting you see the want in mine, my lips hover over yours, breathing you in.
Théo: A lazy smile grows on my face at the desire that is plain in your eyes and I consider the options. There are worse places to be than trapped between a wall and you, your leather covered hardness grinding against my own, but there are better places too. My tongue darts out over your lips and I squirm in your arms, increasing the pressure between us, groaning when you buck back against me. I drag my shirt off over my head, and kiss you hard as I unfasten two of the buttons on yours before remembering the gloves.
“In the bag.” I manage to gasp out in between kisses. “Gloves.” You let me down, and I bend down and rummage through the bag, finding them easily, throwing the larger pair to you before pulling mine on. Standing, I toe my boots off before turning back to see you flexing your fingers, palms covered in leather. There is something about the thought of your hands in those gloves moving over my body that almost makes me breathless.
Éomer: The leather of the gloves is soft and smooth and they fit my hands perfectly. I flex my fingers a few times, experimentally, and they move with me, the leather thin and supple. You turn back around with your pair on, and your shirt off. I take two strides and slam you back against the wall, my palms moving over your shoulders, down the planes of you chest. I put the center of my hand over the ring in your nipple and press down, making circular motions, moving the ring around.
You writhe against me and I cup your face with my other hand, moving the leather over your features, finally stopping at your lips, feeling them tighten against my palm through the fine hide. We are both panting and your hands move to the buttons of my shirt, sliding it off my shoulders. You gasp when you realize I am still wearing the armbands, and your leather clad hands tighten on my shoulders. Desire is racing through me hot and hard, and I press you into the wall again, my body rocking against you, almost without my will.
Théo: I am overtaken by a wave of intense lust as your leather clad hands roughly caress me, almost forgetting to breath as one slides over my face, the smell of it combined with your scent overpowering my senses. And then the armbands are revealed, still in place and the last of my reason leaves me along with a feral snarl. You have me pinned against the wall, but I want more, want your hands around my wrists, want to surrender to you … but I have never … and the words will not come. I can feel your hardness grinding into me as my hands slip down over your leather clad biceps and I assault your mouth, plundering, taking, and you match me, kisses becoming battles which neither of us is willing to concede, not this time.
Bracing my back against the wall, I push away from it, pushing you back and taking a step forward to follow you, a challenge in my eyes, almost daring you to act. But before I can take another, you close the gap between us with a growl. You push me forcibly back by my shoulders, your hands slipping down my arms to my wrists which you grasp tightly and pin against the wall, and my body arches to meet yours as our mouths clash together again.
Éomer: My need is becoming overwhelming and there is only one thing that will satisfy it and I am through playing games with you today. My lips never leave yours as I shift your hands so that both of yours are caught in my left hand and my right hand moves swiftly down your torso to dig in your pockets. I find what I expected there, knowing how practical you can be. I transfer the item to my own pockets and then open your pants, your hardness springing free into my glove. I slide my hand over you a few times, noting your unconscious reactions to the contact, and then push the pants down to your knees, running the leather over your sleek thighs as I do so. You are surging against me, struggling, but I lean my heavier body against you to keep you in place.
"Turn around, Théo." My voice is rough and ragged, and I face you to the wall, keeping my hand locked around your wrists above your head. One-handed, I open the leather pants, freeing my own aching hardness. I retrieve the tube of lotion and smear it liberally over my cock. It is awkward with one hand and I make a mess of the glove.
I stop for a moment, considering. I had intended to plunge into you, knowing that you are so close to the edge that you are ready for me. But you have reacted so strongly to the touch of the leather, that I wonder . . .
I drift my fingers softly along your crevice and then let my leatherclad palm rest against the curve of your buttock. You push back against me, seeking more, and I pull your hips away from the wall slightly, bringing your hands lower and tilting your pelvis until I have you at the angle I want you.
Ignoring the moaning and cursing coming from your mouth, I coat the glove thoroughly and bring my fingers against your opening. I push one finger inside a little, up to the point where the leather starts. You whimper and I push it the rest of the way in, the leather scraping against your tight muscles. I grin at the sounds you are making now and add another finger, then a third. I twist my fingers around inside you, letting you feel the leather caressing your most intimate parts.
Théo: I lost all control as you slid your gloved hand down my thighs, giving in to the sensation, my body bucking and squirming under your touch. And then you do what I do not expect, slicked leather pushing into me. The rest of the glove scrapes over the skin of my buttocks as you thrust your fingers in and out, and I groan wantonly at the feel of the leather inside me.
I struggle against your grip, but you hold me firm, and a deeper thrust has my back arching, my head snapping back. I push back against you, my spine on fire as you catch that sweet spot inside and I cry out, not caring how desperate I sound, how much I need you to possess me like this. I have never come as completely undone as I am right now, I feel like I am hanging by a thread. My erection is so hard it aches, aches for your touch, but I don’t want you to stop fucking me with your leather bound fingers even though I need to feel your cock in me, don’t want your leather bound hand to let go of my wrists, no matter how hard I struggle.
As my body quivers, I hardly know what I am saying as words begin to tumble from me. “Mer, please … I cannot … please, I need … make me … touch me … do not let go, do not let go …”
Éomer: Though I know it is not what you mean, I lean forward and murmur in your ear. "I will never let you go, Théo."
I continue to move my fingers in you, watching you moan and twist against the invasion of your body. My own cock is leaping and twitching at your pleading, pearlescent liquid flowing from it almost continuously. I do not know how much longer I can maintain control, the urge to sink myself in your sweet body is becoming irresistible.
When I can withstand the craving for you no longer, I withdraw my fingers slowly, your keening cry at the loss filling my ears. I maintain my grip on your wrists while I steady your hips with my free hand, and I sheath myself in you with one long thrust.
Your body tightens around me immediately, but I growl, "Not yet," and grasp the base of your erection as tightly as I can. I plunge into your over and over, relishing your tight heat around me. When I feel myself begin to fall, I release my hold on you and wrap my leather encased palm around your hard length, rubbing you in time with my strokes. "Now!"
Théo: Your words and tight hold deny me what I crave until finally, leather and skin move on my aching flesh as you slam into me, and all I can do is brace my legs as I feel it approaching, still fighting your grip even though I have no desire for you to let go of me. And with one word you release me, my hips thrust my cock into your hand, and my seed erupts through your fingers, a long ragged wail tearing itself from my lungs. Your voice joins mine with a roar as you come so hard, so deep inside me, gripping my wrists with a bruising intensity, twitching into me long after you are spent.
I have never given myself over to someone like that before. However much I trusted other partners, and as many have been the men of my éored, those I have trusted with my life, I could never have given them the control that they have so often given me. But what we share has shown me there is an even deeper level of trust, a complete trust borne out of love … and I wish I could have found the words to ask for what you gave me.
As we both stand panting, your body pressed up against my back, your fingers loosen from around my wrists and I lean forward, resting my forehead on my hands. Your arm slips round my waist, and you kiss my sweat soaked shoulder as you slip from me. My body still trembles from the force of it, and I know we need to move, to collapse somewhere soft, but cannot think straight yet. The power of coherent speech seems to have deserted me also. “You … leather … lethal!” I manage with a little chuckle quickly followed by another ragged sigh and a tremor.
Éomer: You are still trembling, and I help you out of your pants, easing them off of your feet. The couch is but a few steps away and I pick you up and move us there, pulling a blanket off the back to cover you in. The leather of my pants is sticking to my sweat covered legs, but I will tend to them later.
I settle you onto my lap, peeling the glove away. “Ruined, I think,” I say before tossing it on the floor. I comb my fingers through your hair, pushing the sweaty strands away from your face, kissing you, whispering how much I love you. I bring your wrists up to my mouth, licking and soothing the red marks left by my fingers. I did not intend to hurt you. Your shaking stops eventually and you lean your head against my shoulder. I rub my face slowly against your hair, feeling content, my body is sated, and you are warm and relaxed in my arms.
Théo: As you tend to my wrists, I catch your eye and shake my head with a smile, not wanting you to worry over the marks. “They will have faded by morning.” Comfortable and relaxed, I purr as you rub your face against me. As your arm settles round my waist, my fingers roam over the leather armband. They fit you so well, like a second skin. As I lie against you, wrapped up in you, happy and warm and so utterly spent, I pull off my own gloves, and let them drop from the couch.
My fingers move in circles on your neck and I kiss you softly. I wonder if you realise that I goaded you into it? I knew you were so full of lust that if I pushed you, you would do what I wanted, and that is not something I am proud of.
I squirm a little on your lap. “I think we are both sticking to your pants, and much as I like them, we would be more comfortable with them off.” Slipping off you, I recline back against the couch, still half wrapped up in the blanket as you smile and get to your feet, pulling them and your boots off, and sitting back down on the edge of the seat. I run my fingers over an armband again, toying with the lace. “Do you want me to take them off?”
Éomer: I watch your fingers playing with the leather, and shrug. "Not necessary. They are light enough that I do not notice them." I grin at you. "Besides, you seem to enjoy them."
Although those words do not seem strong enough to describe your reactions or my response to your challenge. I reacted exactly like a stallion whose territory is being disputed and his mares stolen. I have seen the same thing over and over in the wide fields of the Mark, and I am lucky that you are a partner strong enough to withstand my assault. In this world, my body is bigger and stronger than yours, and I will have to be more careful of you in the future.
I am comfortable now that the pants are off, and the bands on my arms truly do not bother me. We are both sweaty and sticky, and I know we will have to bathe soon. I will take the leather off then, so it will not shrink.
Théo: I snort with laughter at your comment. “Yes, I do, I enjoy seeing you wearing them.” I pull you back down to the couch with a grin and we lie together for a while, limbs tangled together, until bathing becomes a necessity. “There is a large bath in the room at the back.” I tell you as we clamber off the couch and head off towards the bathroom, stopping for juice in the kitchen on the way. The bath is large and round, and the room fills with steam as the tub fills with water. I comb your hair through while we wait, kissing your shoulders every now and again as I work. When I finish, I lay down the comb, and unlace the bands one at a time, slipping them down your arms, and putting them to one side.
When the bath is full, the water is hot and deep. We get in, and you pull me to you, slipping your arms around me. I lie with my back against your broad chest, my head back on your shoulder and play with the hairs on your arms and I can think of no where I would rather be right now.
NC-17 for light bondage and leather kink
