Leatherman

This story I wrote in honor of an old movie called the Wild Ones starring Marlon Brando. I hope you like it.

LEATHERMAN

© 2005

After a fight with my husband, Jesse, I stormed out of the house. The son-of-a-bitch wouldn't leave me alone. All he ever wanted was anal sex. Bastard. How had we ended up like this? He'd seemed so normal the two years we dated in college and the three years of our marriage. Now he was bored with me? Wanted variety? Anal? Fuck him.

When I entered the nearest corner bar, I saw this guy wearing leather and almost laughed. He was sitting with a group of leather-this and leather-that guys, who were watching the action on the dance floor. All laughing. All drinking. Obviously bikers.

I was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and boots. Jesse, the fucker, brought me here seven months ago, so now I dressed the part. Godforsaken place. Minding my own business, I crossed to the bar and sat on an available stool. I ordered a drink from the bartender and waited for that first sip to warm the cold spot inside me. When it did, I felt my arms relax, my neck relax, my back relax. I wasn't so relaxed that I slid off the barstool, but relaxed enough to forget the finger my bastard husband had in my ass an hour ago.

As I continued sipping my drink, my mind wandered. I thought about California. Los Angeles. Westside. I remembered the good times we'd had. I had a job I liked, a good job, in advertising. Jesse also had a good job with the city. We had been saving money, preparing to buy a house and fill it with the pitter-patter of little feet. Then he got this wild hair up his ass and wanted to take me back home. His home, not mine. Now I had a job I hated. Of course, he liked his job, and his four-by-four.

The band was playing and as I got into the music, I moved with it on the barstool. For a minute, I watched the couples on the dance floor and remembered when we'd had that spark of romance in our lives. I laughed sarcastically under my breath, wondering if I should go to the bathroom or get something to eat before my drink knocked me off my feet. I'm not much of a drinker.

A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn around on the barstool and look into the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen. The fact that the eyes were in sharp contrast to his long, black, shoulder-length hair probably helped.

"You look like you're dancing in place, Woman. Come on, I'll give you a spin."

It was him, Leatherman. "Ah, thanks guy, but I'm just calming down. I don't want to dance just now."

"Calming down from what?" He pronounced it wha-at.

I giggled. Leatherman sat down on the stool vacated by the person next to me.

I swallowed to get rid of the giggle. "Just an uncomfortable situation."

He looked at my hand. "Married, eh?"

"Yeah."

It didn't seem to bother him much that I was married. "Lots of married women come into bars to get their husbands off their minds."

"Guilty, as charged," I admitted.

"You have a fight?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Just taking notes."

I sipped my drink and half turned to him. "Taking notes, huh? Am I going to be in your book?"

His laughter showed his teeth, good, strong ones. "Does he know where you are?"

"I don't know. Don't care at the moment." I thought about those teeth worrying my clit. Sure, go on and dream, girl.

He stared into space for a moment. Up close, he didn't look so funny, with his square jaw, his hair falling in his face when he leaned forward, and his studded leathers.

I smiled. "Why? You scared he might come in?"

He laughed. His even, white teeth seemed out of character for this tough guy. "I ain't scared of many," he said.

I laughed. A genuine bad-ass, eh? Actually the way he tilted his head, I saw the scars on his face, and wondered. "Well, I doubt he'll be in soon anyway. I left him in an awkward situation."

"Huh?'

I smiled, remembering how I turned the tables on my husband. I'd told Jesse, "Let's take care of my fantasies first, and then maybe we'll take care of yours." He'd agreed to my terms immediately. My smile deepened as I recalled tying him to the four-poster, naked as a blue jay. After which, I got off the bed, got dressed, and walked out, accompanied by his screams, of course. I'll let you guess what I coated his penis with.

"What kind of awkward situation?"

"Let's just say I left him all tied up."

"Ha. What's your name? You're funny."

"It's Stella." That wasn't my name, of course. It was Jane. But why did he need to know that?

He shook my hand. "Hi, Stella. I'm Jack."

"Hi, Jack."

"You want to dance yet?"

"Yeah, we can dance."

I followed him, watching his butt in the leather. Not bad. When we got to the dance floor, he turned and took me into his arms. Christ, the guy was handsome, in a tough sort of way. Not too tall—maybe 5'9" to my 5'6". Not as tall as I thought he'd be. But his body was solid. Hard. He was also rugged looking with a bent nose and those scars on both cheeks.

"Are you an accident waiting to happen, or what? How did you get those scars?"

He leaned back so he could see me. "A few fights." He dropped my hand and pointed to one of the scars on his cheek. "These are from a guy who drew a knife on me."

"You're lucky to be alive," I said, amazed.

"Oh no, Stella," he said, taking my hand again and spinning me around, "the other guy wishes he was."

I was shocked. "You killed him?"

"Hey, don't say it so loud. You'll have the cops on me."

"I'm sorry. This just blows me away."

He laughed and spun me around again. "So, what was the fight about, Stella"?

"Bullshit. After a few years, I think a guy gets bored with his woman. Wants a change."

"Stupid. You mean they want other women? That kind of thing?"

"I think different men approach it in different ways. Jesse doesn't want another woman."

"So he just wanted to vary the sex?"

"Yeah."

"Anal, I suppose."

"How'd you know that?"

"It's a common complaint."

"Common, huh?" This was one strange guy.

The song ended and I turned to walk away, but he stopped me. "You wouldn't have to worry about that with me."

"Why thank you, kind sir," I said. "Let's sit."

"Why don't we sit with my buds."

"That's lot of male overload there, Jack."

"Lots of women would love to be so lucky," he said, leading me to the booth where I'd first seen him.

"This is Stella, guys. Stella, this is Jim, Harry, and Steve."

"Hi," I said to them as they stood. Jack pulled out the table so I could slip into the booth, then pushed it back into position and he sat beside me.

"Oh, my drink," I said.

"It was empty. We'll get you another."

The conversation around the table was about bikes and riding. I listened to them, fascinated by their carefree spirit. Another drink arrived and I sipped it, wondering what Jesse might be doing.

"You having a good time?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, I'm having a good time."

"You didn't look it for a second there. You looked pained."

I smiled. "Maybe a little guilty."

He smiled back. "Guilty for being with me?"

I looked at him. Was he being cute? Being with him? Was that a sexual overtone? "No. Not at all."

"Good."

I spent the rest of the night thinking I could fuck this guy, but for Jesse.

It was midnight when we left the bar. I'd danced with all of them, but Jack was still the man. Maybe if I weren't married to Jesse, I'd be on the back of his bike when he left town. What a change that would be.

"Come over here," Jack said, walking to his big, beautiful hog.

"It's beautiful," I said. Its blackness shined in the night. Metal accessories reflecting the moonlight.

"We're splitting town tonight. Going to California."

"Really?"

"Want to come?"

I stood stunned. Was he asking me to go with him?

"I'm married. I can't do that."

"Why?"

"Because I . . ."

Yeah, why?

"Look, why don't we just go and pick up some of your stuff. You know, some underwear, some socks, a good warm coat. Let's split this burg."

"I can't do that," I said, but not really so sure. What would I be losing? What the hell did I have with Jesse?

"Why?" he asked again. He walked to me and took me in his arms, nuzzling my neck and speaking into it. "Look, Stella . . ."

"My name's Jane," I said in a small voice. I could feel something hard and long pressing against my stomach, and I wondered just how big it was. And if it would fit. I cursed. I'd never run around on Jesse and I wasn't going to do it now.

"Jane," he said, pulling me closer.

God he was warm.

"I want you. Let's make love, and maybe that'll help you make up your mind."

I laughed "I'm sure that would help, but it isn't going to happen."

"Are you sure?"

He began swaying, rubbing his cock against my stomach. He kissed me. At first, the kiss was simple, like children kissing, or family kissing, but then without thinking about it, I opened my mouth. His tongue searched for mine and I was getting hot. I pulled away and looked around. Jack's friends had ridden off. I hadn't even heard the motors start up.

"Will they wait for you? Somewhere?"

"The donut shop near the freeway."

I looked at him. He was so vibrant, so alive.

While we danced, I'd felt the muscles of his arms holding me, his strong back when I held him, and his legs pressing against me—at times one of them between my legs, rubbing my cunt. The memories flooded my mind. He no longer seemed a joke in leathers. He was a man. I couldn't help comparing him to Jesse.

"Come with me. You'll never regret it."

I laughed, but it sounded tinny to me. "Thanks, but no thanks."

I turned and walked away. I made maybe a dozen strides and looked over my shoulder. He was still in the same position. He looked dark and foreboding in the night. I watched his body as it relaxed, slumping. My heart went out to him. I turned.

He strode to me and pulled me into his arms, but this time it was different. It was scorching hot. I felt like I was glued to his body. His cock pressed into my stomach and my pelvis rocked against him, trying to get it inside. I wanted him. I was going to let him fuck me.

He picked me up and took me to one of those picnic tables with the benches attached. He laid me on the table. I was so ready. I raised my hips so he could pull my jeans down and rip off my sopping panties. He opened his fly and his cock plopped out of his pants. I was amazed that it wasn't as long as it felt. Just thick.

He loomed over me and then surprised me by kneeling on the table's bench between my legs. His mouth directly over my pussy, I could only see his forehead and hair when I looked down. He moved his head to my crotch. I gasped when he licked around my clitoris. I felt my wetness running out of me.

A huge finger entered me, searched for, and found my G-spot. He massaged there as he licked around and around my clit. As the feeling built inside me, my body tensed up and he pressed his flattened tongue against my clit. The feelings came from my belly, my legs, my chest, and converged in my pussy. My body jerked up, searching for his tongue, wanting more, and then I got it.

He rose, watching my pussy clamp onto his finger. He continued fucking me with his finger until I loosened, and then he came to me. His cock entered me a few centimeters at first. Then a little more, and a little more. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain, but there was none. I was amazed at his patient entry. I felt myself being stretched. Deeper and deeper he went. Fuller and fuller I felt.

After what seemed a long time, my pelvis pushed up, meeting him, and then he began pumping, slowly at first. I felt his balls as they struck my ass. I was so full. So complete. Soon he sped up, sliding his dick almost all the way out, then thrusting deep inside me. Before long, he was pounding me and as my body opened to him, I approached my second, and then my third, orgasm. In my head, I saw a flower opening, wanting to be pollinated. Suddenly, he surprised me again. He stopped in mid-stroke, pulled his cock out of me, and began spurting all over my legs and pelvis, carefully avoiding my clothing.

For a moment, he stared at me, smiling, and I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. Instead, he touched my face with one finger. Then he turned and pulled up his pants as he moved towards his bike. From the saddlebags, he retrieved several pieces of cloth. With one, he cleaned himself and then buttoned his jeans. He came back to me and used another to clean me as well. When he finished, he leaned over me and kissed me again.

"Come with me," he said.

I stood up, kissed him, and pulled up my jeans. My panties were useless, so I threw them in the trash. I looked at him. "I have to think. Take me home and I'll either come out with my essentials, or I'll come out and kiss you goodbye."

"Okay."

We mounted his bike and it roared out of the parking lot—the place where I'd really been made love to for the first time in my life. The heat below me was comforting to my used sex; the rumble soothed to my soul. As we rode, the vibrations ran from my ass up along my spine to my neck. My arms wrapped around Jack's hard body, I swayed this way and that as he rounded corners at my direction. I wondered if that was all I needed in life.

Finally, we were there. He pulled into the apartment parking lot and stopped by the tiny rectangular pool. I climbed off slowly and stood beside him. I kissed him and looked into his eyes, wondering if I would wait for him if the tables were turned. "Don't go away," I said before turning and walking inside.

Inside the apartment, I found Jesse still tied. He was asleep and his mouth was wet from drool. I looked at him a long time. Finally, I made my decision just as he woke and looked at me with hate in his eyes.

"You bitch," he said.

"I'm leaving you, Jesse. Goodbye."

What was there to talk about? He sobbed and cursed as I went to the bureau and took out some underwear and socks. I got my backpack and fanny-pack from the closet and packed what I could. In the fanny-pack, I put my savings. As I walked towards the kitchen, I strapped them both on me. Then I pulled out my winter coat and laid it on the sofa in the living room. I got a knife from the kitchen and returned to the bedroom.

"I'm going to cut one hand loose and leave you the knife. You can throw away anything I'm leaving behind. I hope, for your sake, you can find someone who likes anal."

He started sputtering. "Jane, I'm sorry. I . . ."

I cut his one hand free, dropped the knife on the bed within easy reach, and walked out, grabbing my coat on the way.

Jack, who was sitting slouched on his bike, straightened and smiled as I exited. He looked as if he'd expected me to come out and tell him goodbye. But instead, I smiled pretty big as I got on the bike behind him and put my arms around his tight body.

"Let's split!" I said. "I adore donuts," I added, but it was lost on the wind as we flew down the road, the hog's headlight casting a beam before us.

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