Kate was never happier than when a new boyfriend finally allowed her to dress him. She knew she had good taste, after all, wasn't she always turned out perfectly? After a hard morning in the stores Owen stood in front of her, looking the way she had always wanted him to; gone were those wretched over-long, loose skate pants. No more long sleeved t-shirts with the elbows blown through. The olive chinos, flat fronted and easy in the leg showed off his firm buttocks and mountain biker's thighs to perfection. Kate knew he was a little self-conscious in "city clothes" as he called them, so she hadn't forced him into the fine charcoal wool pants she had preferred and had struck a happy bargain with the chinos.
In place of the nasty baggy t-shirt was a light v-necked cotton sweater over a fine, tight t-shirt that clung a little to his skin. "...are you sure this looks... right, K? I'm not sure, it's all a bit, you know, different."
"Different better, sweetie, much better." Kate hit him with her 150 watt smile and Owen smiled back, plucking at his pectorals and shifting in the Birkenstocks she had decided on in the store a block down from the loft.
"Time for lunch I think, hon. You want seafood?" Feed him up on protein and then finish off the clothes hunt in an hour or two.
"Seafood would be great. How much is this stuff anyhow?" Clouds of doubt scudded across his lightly tanned face "I've only got fifty bucks on me..."
"Don't worry, I'll charge it. Let work pick up the tab." Working as a stylist had its perks. Cheap clothes, frequent changes of scenery and the perfect pick up line for men, Kate smiled to herself and passed the corporate charge card across.
Owen was a real find. A tour of the local skate parks had turned up a whole gallery of "characters". Guys whose main objective in life appeared to be accumulating as many scars and piercings as possible. Kate had put models in Givenchy in front of them and used them as the perfect urban backdrop. After all, what could be more urban than a 19 year old with a home-done crop, an ear full of rings and the scars of gashes he and his friends had sewn up?
One of them had been cute enough to interest her; she had already nabbed Owen's number by then, and had decided to try one of these ripped up youths for size. After the shoot she'd packed the models and photographer off and turned her attention to the guy who she'd asked to stick around when they wrapped.
Al, Alex, whatever he called himself, had a tear that ran up his ribcage that fascinated her. He said that he had been riding a concrete wall downtown when he had hit a peg planted by the building's facilities people to catch out skaters. He said he had been lucky, that he'd only caught his side, rather than crack his head. "Ain't no home fix for a busted skull," he'd said, brightly.
Happily, Al was a clean "dirty skate boy" and had cheerfully jogged off into the shower at her apartment when she had suggested it. While Al showered Kate had slipped out of her clothes and into the fine silk robe she favoured when entertaining. She found a fresh thong still in its wrapper and quickly changed into it, enjoying the slightly stiff feel of the new cotton against her.
He came back into the main room wearing a pair of trunk style boxers he'd found in the laundry cupboard and proceeded to show her every scar he had. It was an impressive collection. From head to foot he was a light patchwork of new and fading scar tissue.
Only after she had expressed what he must have considered an appropriate level of interest in his gruesome gallery, did Al consent to drop his shorts. As Kate had suspected he wasn't long, but his filling cock had the look of being good and thick. What surprised her was what he called his "prime cock jewel". Just behind the head of his prick a bar, finished in two heavy silver globes, was becoming apparent as his foreskin began to slip back.
"Chicks dig it." Al had announced. He had also trimmed his pubic hair, the better to display the work, she assumed.
That is never going in my mouth - Kate had thought. Her orthodontic work had cost her parents a couple of thousand dollars and she wasn't going to risk it.
"Bet you've never had one like that." Al had been watching her face and had a smirk in place.
"Not quite. Didn't it hurt?" She asked looking up from the piercing to his cheerful face.
"Like a mother, wouldn't lose it now though. Wouldn't be the same, looking down and not seeing it there."
Kate was fascinated, appalled and fascinated and had drawn a little closer to get a better look. The heavy bar ran right through his shaft. She could see the way the skin had re-grown around the length of surgical steel and reached out to touch it.
"I thought it would be cold." Kate suddenly felt foolish, standing there with a scarred up skater's ornamented dick in her hand.
"Nah, too close to the body to be cold. Feels different to the rest though, doesn't it?"
Kate had to agree that it did, the hard steel of the bar was counterpoint to the warm flesh that surrounded it. Kate's mouth began, involuntarily, to water and she ran her tongue tip over her lips. She looked up into Al's smiling face.
"I guarantee that I won't chip your teeth. Hasn't happened yet." His eyes crinkled with mirth.
How Al had known? Kate wasn't sure. She guessed that other women had expressed the same fear to him and Al had quickly learnt to reassure them and go easy.
"Want me to sit on the bed?"
Again he had beaten her to it. He's done this before she concluded. Al had been the only one to talk to her like a normal human being; the other guys at his particular park seemed to think non-skaters weren't really regular people. They'd taken the offered money and done as the photographer had asked, but that was it. There had been no further connection. Al had been upbeat and had joked with the photographer's assistant and Kate. She was at a loose end and had decided to take him home. Al had been quite willing to be fed by the magazine lady, and was quite unconcerned when she had suggested they go back to her apartment after the food.
The view from the window reflected the apartment's height. You could see clear across half the city from there. Sometimes Kate just liked to sit and watch the traffic crawl through town. At the moment, however, she was looking squarely at the smiley-face Al had thoughtfully had tattooed near his navel as her tongue swirled around the top of his cock and tasted the strange, metallic tang that the bar imparted. Al had the pleasure of looking out of the picture window while she ran her tongue around his swelling flesh.
Rapidly his cock reached full hardness; it was, as Kate had suspected, not over long, but impressively thick. She found herself forcing her jaws wider to get more than just the crab apple sized head of his cock into her mouth. Kate could feel the bar rolling against her teeth as she got Al's length sucked down. Deep throating a guy was one of her most arcane skills, the product of years of practice, but Al's dick fitted neatly into her mouth and she started slowly to rub her tongue across the base of his glans and increased the insistent vacuum around his shaft. With her free hand she rolled his almost hairless balls in her palm, the short hairs were quite soft.
Kate felt Al take hold of her hair; he had sat quite still looking out of the window with a small smile on his face for several minutes, now he lifted her head off his cock and urged her down onto the floor in front of the picture window.
"That was nice, but now I want to fuck." There was something about the blunt way that he made that statement the Kate found intensely exciting. Even though she had picked him up, Al had moved into the driving seat.
"How?" Kate sat in front of the sheet of glass looking up at him with the cold glass at her back she felt exposed. Al had his dick in his hand and was slowly bringing himself to full hardness again. She shucked her shoulders out of the silk robe and it pooled about her.
"Get on all fours, I want you from behind. Don't take those panties off, I'll do that myself."
Kate felt round herself with her left arm, taking her bra off would only take a moment and would leave her 32B tits for him to work on. "Who the fuck told you to take the tit bag off, magazine lady?"
For a moment Kate was confused and looked up startled into his face. She was reassured by what she saw there, this was all part of the game for him and she turned away and shifted on to her hands and knees. Kate heard him move behind her and felt his breath on her back. Then she heard him take a big suck of air through his nose and was surprised by Al shoving his nose and most of the rest of his face against her Calvin Klein covered pussy.
"Fuck; you smell nice." She sat back and wriggled a bit against him, leaking more juice into her soon to be sodden thong.
There was a stinging slap against her ass cheek that made her yelp and jump a little and she heard Al laugh darkly. This had been a good idea, Kate told herself as the pleasurable warmth of the spank travelled up her body.
Al shifted behind her; Kate could feel his body heat against her back. She felt an insistent pressure across her mons, and then the fabric of her thong slipped between her plump pussy lips and dragged itself across the inner surface of her cunt. What the fuck is he doing? Kate looked up into the glass and could see the outline of Al reflected in the glass, the waistband was in his mouth, and he was tearing them off her with his teeth. Al started to laugh, deep in his throat and Kate felt it reverberate down the taught fabric straight into her.
Suddenly the pressure of the fabric slacked off and there was a small ripping sound. The Calvins had finally given way. Kate watched as Al took the remnants of the white cotton undergarments and pressed them to his face. He took an enormous breath through the fabric and them balled them up and tossed them into the recesses of the room.
