the life and musings of a kinky slut


I asked D3 if he wouldn’t mind blacking my boots, seeing as my shift was up in fifteen minutes. He agreed, sitting on the ground as I remained in my chair, setting up his kit as I stashed mine away.

He then asked, “Do you need to go anywhere?”

“No,” I replied. My commitments for the evening didn’t start until much later, about two hours from then. This was his tester, to see how much care and attention he could give to my leather. In my view, he had all the time in the world.

We started with my showing him how to unlace my boots, first trailing up the boot & around the rosettes and then back down over the rosettes & through the side loops.

As he began his cleaning, I slipped into my happy floaty place. His hands massaged my calves. Pressure and sensation mixed with the feeling of having someone up close servicing my leather. My head rolled back and I sighed.

To condition my boots, he used a mixture of Black Gold and Hubberd’s. I loved the visual of him rapidly rubbing his hands together and them applying the mixture on my boots.

As again his hands kneaded into my flesh beneath my leather, my sighs grew into moans. My eyes closed; my head collapsed back. I fell into the feeling of the service; got lost in his hands.

When I peeked, just once, I saw what looked like Hubberd’s on his lips. I smiled, closed my eyes, and allowed myself to be lost again.

His work mostly complete, I explained how to re-lace my boots, a chore all its own.

His work finished, I offered him a tip. He refused. He knew the money came from the tips I’d made earlier. Instead he told me to put the money back into my kit.

Not able to compensate him monetarily, I asked if I could give him a hug. He stood up on his knees into my seated arms.

As our limbs initially intertwined, we somehow naturally… gently… kissed.

And kissed a little more.

And a little more.

Our lips parted. Our tongues played. Before I knew it, we were making out.

My hands trailed down his back and gripped his ass.

He started sucking on my tongue. Normally, I hate it when people do this. It’s only happened to me once before and it was not a pleasant experience.

But D3… when he sucked my tongue.  And played with my ring.  I was so fucking aroused I started grinding against my metal chair and panting like a begging puppy.

As he sucked and I bucked my hips, I came right there in his arms, the smell of Hubberd’s still fresh on the both of us. I never wanted to stop kissing him.

But, eventually, we did. Our makeout session ended, we then actually hugged, and slowly broke apart.

I slouched back into my chair, the intensity from the past minutes washing over me.

D3 asked what I was up to that evening. I knew I was to black Stefanos’ boots, and had plans for play during the Circus. I asked him his plans. He, in fact, wanted a playdate with me.

We settled on midnight at the Dungeon.

I spoke about how I loved impact and showed off some of my bruises, exposing my breasts. He asked permission to play with my nipples, which I gave.

His tongue flicked and licked. His lips closed around one and sucked. He bit, hard. I took in the pain, let it wash over me, until I had to call yellow.

We flirted. We exchanged numbers. We parted.

We would see each other again, later that evening.

Categorised as: Boots | D3 | Fusion

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