Fiction
2 Jun 2016


It might happen one day, when we're at home, bored and the conversation gets round to something horny -

“You know what leather does to me” I replied, as casually as I could, although I was sure Jen could feel my heart race under her soft touch. She smiled and let out a sigh;

“God, You’d have us head to toe in the stuff if you could” chided Jen with a smile, still playing with my straining shaft.

“Mnngh. Why not?” I gasped at a particularly erotic sensation, courtesy of Jen’s fingernail.

“So, what does a nice girl have to wear to get fucked against a wall?” asked Jen, all innocent sounding, but in the context of where we were, a very, very dangerous question. Still, her fingers probed my cock.

“Mmmnngh” was all I could utter at that moment, as Jen played me like a fiddle.

“What about a little slag in a “Fuck-Me’ skirt?” asked Jen. My heart fired against my chest;

“Uungh. Yeah” I gasped, agreeing to anything as the images went haywire in my head.

“Is that what you want? Me in a little ‘Fuck-Me’ skirt, so you can slip your cock up into me?” teased Jen, smiling hungrily, knowing I was helpless.

“God. Yeah!” I moaned, a vision of a short leather skirt riding up Jen’s thighs flashing through my brain.

“Upstairs and wait for me” commanded Jen in a hoarse whisper, as she released my shaft and slid from the sofa, giving me the filthiest backwards look over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hall, pulling her robe around her. Taken by surprise, I staggered to my feet and meekly complied, straining to hear any sounds from Jen as I climbed the stairs, my head reeling from the onslaught of that last hour.

Reaching the door of our bedroom, I wasn’t sure if I should go in, strip on the landing, whistle Dixie, or what. Jen clearly was up to something, but for the life of me I couldn’t fathom out what.

After about two minutes kicking my heels, I heard “Dave” called from downstairs. Stopping for a moment, I strained to check that I’d heard right, but heard nothing. Baffled, I walked back down stairs, unsure whether to call or not. I followed the sound of my name called again, a soft, feminine voice that was obviously Jen’s, but with an edge which made it exciting, daring. My heart thundered in protest at the strain, my thoughts running riot in the uncertainty of what I was getting myself into.

Jen stood in front of me, leaning heavily against the lounge door frame. But, this was a different Jen - a raw, slutty Jen. A very much rough and ready Jen. A highly fuckable Jen. And she knew it....

Struggling to take in the sight of my wife - completely transformed from the bathrobe of a few minutes ago - I gasped again as my cock thundered into life. Jen smiled a dirty smile.

With her long dark hair now scraped back in a Croydon-Facelift and with little makeup other than cheap black eyeliner, Jen’s gorgeous face was framed by two sets of cheap hoop earrings, instantly transforming her into one of the type of birds off Jeremy Kyle, but perfect in every way and far, far sexier. A thin black top pushed out Jen’s tits a treat.

An old and very shiny black leather biker jacket, quilted around the sleeves and around the hips, with zips that just cried out to be played with, hung provocatively off her shoulders. Small leather tassles hung from each zipper, the tight leather clinging to Jen’s torso and just screaming for me to slip it from her bare shoulders.

A short and tight - and fuck, do I mean tight - black heavy-leather skirt, clung to Jen’s hips so much that it pushed out a very slight muffin-top on the pale skin of her exposed midriff. A wide leather belt, with a large hoop buckle, pulled the whole shooting match together. The leather was well polished and obviously old, but supple and instantly horny as the lights from the room glistened on the soft skin, turning me on in a heartbeat.

With a pair of cheap, thin black leggings disappearing under the skirt - just - and a pair of black leather flat shoes, Jen had transformed herself into a perfect tart, the dirty look in her eye leaving me in no doubt where this was going to end.

Jen leaned harder into the door frame as I approached her, a look of quiet confidence on her face as she got into the game;

“Alright?” she asked, simply.

“Yeah” I replied, as calmly as I could, my innards going crazy, loving this game.

“So, d’you want a fuck or not?” Jen asked, in as slutty a voice as I’ve ever heard. It was all I could do to nod like a prat and stammer;

“What do you think?”

“Let’s see what you’ve got, then” she said, expertly unzipping my fly as she knelt down in front of me, instantly taking me full-on in between her bright red lips, sucking and slurping hard on the bell-end until my legs started to give way. Sensing my near-explosion, Jen released my shaft and stood, roughly doing up my jean’s zip and belt as she leered at me.

“Now for the main course” she said.

Pushing herself off the door frame, Jen looked down, almost bored and disinterested as she reached out and took my hand, turning and padding silently through the lounge to the conservatory door, pulling me willingly behind her in complete silence, the black leather jacket bouncing in between us, both of us utterly into the new game we were playing.

Passing through the conservatory, Jen slipped her shoulders out of the jacket and carelessly tossed it onto the sofa as we stepped into the gloom of the patio, the chill of the evening making the hairs on my arms stand on end, although at that moment I could have been starkers in the Arctic and neither known or cared less.

The security light flicked on as we passed underneath in the half-light, although we were quickly out of sight of its beam again, as Jen quickened the pace and urgently pulled us into the space between the house and the garage, deep into the shadows. Outside in the fading light, I could hear noises coming from the neighbouring houses, but at that moment, Jen and me were locked in our own fantasy, acting out a sordid play which would eclipse anything that Anne could ever conjure up, a play which Jen had planned to the last detail to ensure my devotion and addiction to her sexiness and keeping her ahead in the contest to be the biggest slut. It was a game in which I didn’t mind being the ball, kicked around the field but ending up scoring.

In the darkness and now well out of earshot from anyone else, Jen spun round and faced me, her back quickly pushed up against the bare brick wall of the garage. Her dark eyes, hooded even more in the shadows, bored into me as she smiled an evil smile, licking her lips as hurriedly but skillfully, she unclipped my jeans and jerked down my fly until her slim fingers slid inside my waistband and pushed my kecks and jeans down over my arse, my cock springing out ramrod-straight towards her sensual leather skirt. Glancing down at my rampant prick, Jen smiled wider as she looked up at me;

“Come on then, you dirty Bastard. You said you wanted a fuck. Fuck Me!” she whispered hoarsely as she gripped my shaft, gripping it roughly as she shuffled her feet, offering no fight as my sweating hands roughly grabbed at her upper thighs and pushed up against the yielding leather of her slutty skirt, sliding them under and bunching the leather up crudely to her belt line, exposing the tops of her thin leggings and her beautiful shaven snatch.

“You fucking dirty Bitch” I whispered in her ear as I unashamedly groped her under her skirt, roughly tugging the leather. Jen growled low;

“Just shut up and fuckin’ do me!” she hissed as we fumbled like adolescents, our breaths ragged.

“You fuckin’ slag” I hissed again in her ear as I reached up and roughly pulled down the neck of her top, grabbing a rough handful of her left tit and giving it a schoolboy grope. Jen moaned.

As I reached further down and grabbed the base of my shaft, knocking Jen’s hand out of the way and pushing my cock towards her, Jen lifted her right leg, dropping her hand to guide my bell-end the last couple of inches to her soft, yielding minge.

“Yeah. Come on!! Unnngghhh!! Aaaahhh!! You dirty fucker!!” Jen gasped as we merged as one, my shaft sliding easily into her molten depths.

“Mnngghh! Yeah! Fucking Do me!!” hissed Jen as I pushed her arse against the brickwork, the crumpled leather of her skirt falling to lay across the top of my cock, sending my mind into orbit with both the sensual feel on my skin and the sight of the shiny, supple leather laying between us.

In a moment of ecstasy, Jen threw her head back with a ‘thump’ against the brick, although despite a yelp at the obvious shock, her eyes remained tightly closed and she smiled for a split second as she thrust against me, her arms thrown over my shoulders as I bent down as far as I could to push up into her quim with all the force I could muster.

With a whimper, Jen screwed up her eyes and bit her bottom lip as we fucked, frantic and hard, our own knee-trembler lasting long past my previous fuck with Anne, despite us going at it without any need for protection. My cock was going at it hell for leather, pushing against Jen’s own thrusts as she hooked her right leg around my thigh, pulling us even closer, my right hand roughly grabbing her arse through the creased leather, while my left arm locked against the wall for support and more leverage against my wife’s yielding flesh.

Jen’s eyes were now open wide like saucers as we fucked, boring deep into mine from under the smear of cheap eye-shadow, her mouth open just as wide in surprise, raw lust and ecstasy, as she matched me thrust for thrust, willing me on, daring me to punish her harder against the cold brickwork of the garage.

“Come on, you dirty fucker!!” Jen scalded me again through gritted teeth as we ground together in a harsh rhythm;

“Mmnngh. Yeah. Oh Yeah! Oh Yeah! Mmmnnhh! Fuck...in..... Do....me....You..... Bast.... Aaahh!” Jen gasped as our thrusts became wet slaps, frantic and ragged the nearer we got to the inevitable climax, neither of us able to tone it down, even if we were waking the whole fucking neighbourhood!

“Mnngghh You dirty fucking bitch!!” I hissed in Jen’s ear as we thumped together against the cold brickwork.

“Yeah!.... Yeah!.... C’mon. C’mon. Mmmmm. Nail me, you fuck.....!!” Jen whimpered as we went to the vinegar strokes.

With a final slap and rough grab of Jen’s leather-clad arse, I wrenched her to me as I thrust forward, exploding like I’d never done before deep, deep inside her, quickly grabbing her other arse cheek with my left hand and bodily lifting her off the floor, pinning her back to the wall as her legs slammed round my arse, our lips meeting hungrily for the first time in the fuck, a mess of tongues, lips and spit, literally chewing each other’s faces as my shaft burrowed deep within Jen.

Feeling bold, I straightened up and eased us from the wall, Jen tightening her grip around my neck and shoulders, her legs locked behind my arse, as I shuffled us across the patio, the security light exposing our sordid little game as I carefully guided us back into the conservatory, the raw sides of my cock chafing against her equally sore labia, making us both gasp in pleasure and pain, but neither willing to break our bond at that moment.

We giggled and winced a bit as clumsily - and with a bit of good luck - we made it through the conservatory and into the lounge before my back gave out, standing locked together with Jen still holding tight on to me, my fading cock just about doing its own holding on in her snatch. Taking her full weight, I straightened as she unwrapped her legs from my thighs, warily finding her feet again before letting go of my neck, slowly easing herself away from me. My pants barely holding up on my arse, my spent and lifeless old man slipped from her snatch, shiny with our juices, dangling uselessly above the waist of my stretched boxers.