9 comments/ 6295 views/ 6 favorites Eleanor Pt. 01 By: ahaag The lights swirled around and around the club. Whit had never been here before and had decided to check it out on a whim after passing another lonely night in her apartment. It had been six weeks since her husband had left her. Six weeks her bed had been a barren cold landscape with nothing to warm it but her. It had been the first time since she could remember ever feeling so cold. Finally breaking under the silence and emptiness of their (her) apartment she had forced herself to dress in the outfit that got her into all this mess. The tan slacks were nothing to get excited about, and they had been innocent in the break up. It was the black silk tie, white button up, and tailor made black suit jacket that were guilty. She laughed to herself as she sipped her drink that she had gotten from the bar. Look at her, blaming her clothes for breaking her marriage up. Now she had sunk to an all time low. Allowing herself to ride the memory she knew she could not fight, Whit remembered how it all happened. How this damn outfit had turned her life upside down. It was a misty morning when she stepped out of the apartment that she shared with her husband. It was late March and the winter seemed very reluctant to let go, especially late at night and in the early mornings. Her husband had driven off to his job in the next city over and he planned to stay at the office till tomorrow night. He had kissed her good-bye, as always, and she had handed him his overnight bag as he loaded his suitcase in the car. After he had left she ran into the house and changed from her bedridden pajama's to the new clothes she had bought. She had no idea what drove her to buy the dark black silk tie. Or what drew her to spend as much as she did on the tailored men's suit jacket. The seamstress had looked at her questionably, but considering the price she had paid the seamstress made no remark and did an excellent job. She had looked at herself in the mirror admiring the way her straight figure complimented the men's clothes she was wearing. It occurred to her now, going over her memory, that she had never questioned her motives. Never once wondered why she was dressing in these clothes to walk down the avenue. Not just any avenue, but the avenue that was notoriously the "Gay District". Where every day there were tons of people, men and women, of different ages and races walking and going from shop to shop and bar to bar. Some of them had that - how her husband would say- "queer" look about them. They just screamed homosexual. But the other half looked just like anyone Whit had ever seen anywhere. And this was her destination when she drove her car out of the parking lot. She was all dressed up for the day to go to the "Gay District". Why? She wasn't gay! But boy did she look it. When she found a parking spot she let her car idle for a moment. This might have been the only part in her memory that she remembered hesitating on what adventure she was about to embark. She finally took a deep breath and got out of the car. Since she had arrived at her destination she let her feet carry her wherever they pleased to go. Before she knew it she found herself in a leather shop. The window revealed nothing to her as it was blacked over with paint. As she stepped in she could smell the wonderful smell of leather. Isles of shelves revealed all sorts of contraptions and toys that she had never even known existed. Now that they were standing in front of her she couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from them. "Can I help you?" The smooth quite voice jarred her out of her trance. She glanced over to the desk and her heart stopped. There standing before her was the most intriguing, and frankly gorgeous woman she had ever seen. The faux leather pants she wore looked painted on they were so tight. The red shirt she wore covered her chest, and barely her midsection. The sleeves were made to fall down her arms, revealing shoulders that were spattered with colored and black ink. Her arms were pale and long, her legs mirrored the length (and Whit only guessed color) that was above them. The tattoos spread down to each dainty pale wrist. Her smooth white hands only accented the stark black tattoos on each knuckle. Whit managed to flash a look to this woman's face. What she saw there didn't help discourage the heat that had begun in her feet and worked its way up to her face. She had high cheek bones and an oval shaped face. Her long black hair was pulled back in a red ribbon that matched her shirt. The piercings that riddled her face only made her more beautiful. Her hair was a curled ebony mess. Whitney mentally licked her lips. The woman smiled, "Do you need help finding something?" Whit cursed herself, "N... no thank you." She barely made it half way into the store before she ducked out again without daring to purchase anything. Breathing hard and not knowing why, Whit stopped at the first "normal" looking place she could; what looked like a neighborhood café. It was called "Kitten's Corner". She wondered what it meant as she sat down and glanced at the menu. The items that were listed there were even more baffling in their hidden meaning. When the waitress drew up to her table she shakily ordered a coffee, one cream and two sugars. So much for a normal environment. As Whit's coffee arrived that woman sidled into the cafe. "Oh dear lord" Whit thought, "please don't let her see me." Unfortunately, as for all tales such as these, the tall pale woman from the leather shop DID see Whitney and smiled as she made her way towards her table. Whitney tried very desperately to shrink herself into a tiny insignificant person, and to tear her gaze from those beautiful eyes. "Mind if I join you?" That same smooth voice. It seemed to match that smooth pale complexion, and it made Whitney feel the same way the ebony curled hair looked: a big hot mess. "Uh.. sure. Of course." Whitney tried desperately to not sound like a dork. She tried to sound c-o-n-f-i-d-e-n-t. Why had she come here? Why had she bought these clothes? Soon all thoughts were blotted out; except for thoughts of her. Of the way her skin would feel under Whit's hand. Of how her lips would feel trailing down that delicate throat. Whitney numbly handed the woman her menu that the waitress had left, and attempted to smile at her. She was sure it looked like a gruesome representation of a smile compared to this beauty's. Finally, Whitney was able to study her as the woman studied the menu. She was even lovelier up close. Almost blinding in her unending and almost flawless beauty. She wasn't like any super model Whitney had ever seen. She had curves and a comfortable "plumpness" about her. Not fat, not skinny, but somewhere in between that made Whitney feel like her straight figure was something to be laughed at. Whitney focused, the woman was staring at her with a quirky smile that set Whit on fire. She looked as if she had said something that Whitney had missed. "I'm sorry, I missed what you said," Whitney said. "I said," the woman leaned across the small table, her cleavage hanging savagely out of the red top she was wearing. Whitney leaned forward; it had become quite loud in the café. The woman's mouth was only inches from Whitney's hair. "I said, I bet you sound sexy as fuck when you cum." Whitney froze, no one had ever said anything like that to her before. The reaction her body had was startling. Her hands became damp, her mouth dry, and the warmth between her legs was like a furnace. The woman had drawn back and was studying the menu again, as if she hadn't just said something that made the ache in Whitney's pussy deepen into a maddening desire. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," Whitney said hesitantly. She tried even harder to ignore the pulsing deep within her. The women must have given up on the menu because she put it down and smiled that insane quirky smile at Whitney and replied, "Nor did I catch yours". There were promises in that sly remark. Burning passionate promises and yearnings that Whitney's brain started to fumble with and fantasize about. Whitney produced a small piece of scrap paper from her purse and a pen. If that was the game this woman wanted to play, Whitney would at least try to play, even if she knew she couldn't win. She wrote her name in her scrawling hand writing, folded the paper, and slid it towards the woman. The woman looked down, developed a ghost of smile on her face, and motioned for the pen that Whitney had taken from her purse. When she passed the pen to the woman, their fingers brushed. An electric shock burst its way up Whitney's hand and went straight to her pussy. A small gasp escaped from Whitney's lips. For the first time, Whitney saw something in the woman's eyes other than that oozing beautiful mask, she saw burning red hot desire. Without taking her gaze from Whitney, the woman wrote something on the piece of paper and slid it back to Whit's shaking damp hands. Somehow, Whitney managed to tear her gaze from the intense one of her table mate and glazed down in her lap at the paper in her hand. The paper said, "My name is Eleanor, and I want to fuck you until you scream it." Whitney could no longer ignore the pulsing that was deep within her. She risked a glance up. Eleanor had stood up and was reaching her hand towards her in a "follow me" gesture. This is the part in my memory where I wish I could have said that I told her I was married. Or that I had made a mistake and rushed out of the Kitten Corner Café. Maybe I would have been embarrassed, but I would have gotten over it. But did I really regret my decision? No, she set me on fire, and I burned willingly. I took that slender, ink covered hand, and felt more electric signals being sent to the very core of my desire. I don't think I ever paid for my coffee. Eleanor Pt. 02 Eleanor led me back to the leather shop where we had "met" (if you could call it that). She led me up a back door in the store that led to a stairwell. In the stairwell is where we kissed. She gently backed me against the wall, almost cat like in her stalking. Our kiss was like a match being lit in a dark hallway, and the kisses that followed it were like a raging forest fire. I don't know how long we made out in the stairwell, but I could have done it for ages. When we finally tore away from each other she smiled that damn smile again and led me up the stairs to what seemed to be a loft. Eleanor kept the light low, so I can't say I ever got a good look around, but the loft was decorated with candles, and dark fabrics. She was sitting on what I presumed was her bed. It was plush and comfortable looking. The sheets seemed to be made out of the darkness itself. I walked toward her slowly, hoping to convey a teasing sensuality instead of the jittery wreck I was inside. She pulled me the last couple of steps by my new belt loops and I stood there between her legs. She looked up at me, and I down at her. She seemed to pin me with her eyes, eyes that I could have stayed lost in forever. I don't know if it was love, but it sure had a whole lot of lust in it. She had to stoop to undo the belt that was on my trousers. Her eyes never left mine as her teeth expertly removed my belt from the catch. My breathing had become shallow, and I'm sure I sounded like a winded marathon runner. I hesitantly ran my fingers through that gorgeous black hair. Once my belt hit the floor, my other clothes followed soon behind, and they were intermingled with hers on the floor of the dark loft. I don't know what I expected from this encounter, or what kind of sex to expect. Passion, I expected, even yearned for (it had been missing from my marriage for quite some time). But the gentle way Eleanor lay me down and caressed every part of me was unexpected. I had never been touched by a woman, not even a masseuse. Her hands braided themselves in my hair as she kissed me. Her kisses trailed down my neck and her tongue lapped at my cleavage. I gasped as her long seductive fingers expertly rolled my nipple, first one and then the other, in her hands. I never knew something so sensual. Eleanor's tongue traced every inch of my torso before I had begun to moan with anticipation, her tongue ring and lip rings only adding to the sensations that snaked down my nerve endings and sent electric shocks of pleasure and shaking to my brain. My pussy was so wet, and my ache for her never ending. She hadn't even touched me yet and I was screaming. Eleanor sat up and straddled me. She still had a lacy black thong on that denied me the view that I dreamed about for ages afterward. A tentative shaking hand that must of belonged to me snaked up and traced one delicate tattoo after another. Up her finger, her wrist, the slender bend in her arm, finally down to her breasts and around her nipples. Every time she breathed the ink seemed alive on her body, like a living piece of art. She was breath taking. She must have sensed my wonder, because she never rushed me. She paused there, straddling my waist, and allowed me to trace the entire span of her torso from one finger tip, to her navel, to her other wrist. She began to sink lower between my legs. My brain almost began to panic until I shut it up - it would be no different than when my husband was between my legs. Half of my brain knew it was a lie just to pacify its fears, the other half actually believed it was all the same no matter who was there. Oh how I was wrong. Her tongue bathed my pussy, the metal ring applying pressure where no pressure had ever been applied before. Eleanor's hands had snuck their way under my thighs to grasp my wrists. Her shoulders pressed upward until my legs were almost vertical. In less than ten seconds I was completely caught and restrained by her. Her tongue traced up the right side of my labia, down the left side. She paused at the entrance to my dripping wet pussy before easing her tongue inside of me. I could not struggle, but my head thrashed from side to side as pleasure I had never known before began to build inside of me. Her tongue flicked out and became flat with that bud of metal at its center. She quickly rolled it up my pussy and the metal ball flicked my clit; I screamed. She slid her tongue back down and entered me again. This process wasn't repeated long before I was sailing into an orgasm. I think "oh fuck yes" and "please. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" were in my vocabulary, but the memory is a little hazy. After I had come down from my climax I dared looked into her eyes, she radiated pure, raw passion and lust. I said frantically, "You, now you". She released her grip on my wrists and bent down to retrieve a box that was under her bed. I had expected to reverse positions and try my attempt at going down on her. I gasped at what she pulled out of the box. The long 9" strap-on that she pulled out was something to marvel at. My own husband boasted a whopping 7.5", but this made him look like a tooth pick! It was girthy, and it was perfect, clad in smooth black leather. She smiled at me and offered to help me in the straps. I numbly stumbled into them and started to apologize, that I didn't know what I was doing. Just then, something took hold of me. Maybe this goddesses raw lust and passion had leaked into me. In the box that now lay on the floor next to our clothes, happened to be a pair of Velcro wrist cuffs. While Eleanor got up and bent to take her panties off I snatched them quickly up. She once again resumed to straddle me with the strap-on resting erect on her stomach. She stood up and hovered herself over the tip of the leather strap-on. Slowly she began to work it inside of her. I moaned watching the shaft begin to get wet with her juices. The perfect moment came for me to get the cuffs on her. Her head was thrown back, revealing her gorgeous throat. Her hands rested lightly behind her on her thighs. I quickly bucked my hips up and got one cuff on each wrist. She snapped her gaze at me in surprise. I took that quick moment to clip the cuffs together. Now she sat there, her warm pussy completely engulfing the strap-on I was wearing. Her hands cuffed behind her back, and a look of sexy, almost innocent surprise on her face. I smiled at her, used one hand to hold on to the clasp between the cuffs, and used my other hand to forcefully grip her hip. I began to pump the strap-on into her as best I could. She began to moan, and I could of cum just from hearing that! She sounded so sexy, sometimes a light groan, others a deep and complex primitive sound emanating from her throat. I thrust in and out of her long and lazily, not because I wanted to tease her (even though I was), but because I was desperately trying to get the hang of using this new toy. Once I started to get the hang of it we were like a rhythmic machine, me entering and exiting her with the strap-on. Her riding me and fucking me with her hands cuffed behind her. She was fucking beautiful. Her pierced nipples bounced as she began to ride faster and faster. I knew she was coming close to cuming. I shifted just slightly so that I was sitting up and slowed my pumping. She began to emit this cute whimpering that made me feel like I had the control. I removed my hand from her hip and slithered it up her torso to her swelled breasts. Still rocking slightly from our motion, I cupped one beautiful breast and began to suck on her pierced nipple. Her moans grew louder, and she helped me pump in and out of her again with a new frenzy. She was so close. I clamped my mouth onto her other nipple as I fucked her harder and faster. I couldn't give anymore and I prayed I could maintain this speed until she came. The strap-on base had been rubbing on my mound until I had shifted to get my lips on her nipples. It was now rocking and slamming onto my pussy. A few minutes and I could feel my orgasm building too. I took my hand and grabbed a handful of that raven hair and held on as she rode me until she screamed into an earth shattering orgasm. Her last few orgasmic bucks sent me over the edge as the strap-on nudged my clit. I screamed out and let go of her hair. Eleanor collapsed on top of me and I stroked her back as we got our breathing under control. I unclipped her from her binds and she rolled onto her side next to me. "That was fucking amazing". I nodded my head in agreement, I'm glad she didn't know how spent I was. Eleanor Pt. 03 As I walked back to my car I attempted to block the thoughts and images out of my head. What did I just do? I cheated on my husband with a woman! One that lives above a leather sex shop! What the hell has come over me? As I drove home I looked at the clock. It read two-thirty. I had left this morning at nine. How long had I been in Eleanor's' loft? How long did I worship every inch of her gorgeous inked skin? Hours. I pulled into my drive way with climactic memories in my head. My pussy began to dampen with the thoughts that came. How delicious her pussy had tasted. How soft the lips of her sweet little pussy were. How warm the metal of her labia piercings had felt against my tongue. I felt a hand rubbing my pussy through the slacks I was wearing. How mortified I was when I realized it was my own! That was exactly what I needed right now. Someone mentioning to my husband that I was fucking myself parked in our drive way. Lingering thoughts of her drifted through my mind like the smell of her earthy, sagey loft wafting off my clothes. As I entered the bedroom I began to strip on my way to the shower. A trail of clothes followed me; a path of sage smelling cloth. As I stepped into the steamy shower I caught a whiff of her skin. Our sweat had mingled as we rubbed our bodies against each other. I wonder if she would pause as I had when she smelled me on her skin. Would she even remember my smell? I didn't have the emotional energy to analyze why I was so worried that Eleanor would remember my damn smell. As the hot water hit my body I was glad for its powerful stream. My muscles had been stretched and contorted into positions I hadn't even tried when I was a young, limber teen. Then again, no one had ever stretched me and warmed me up like Eleanor had. Not only did she build my orgasms until I thought I would be ripped apart when I finally came; she stretched my legs, my arms, my body. Slowly contorting me into positions that displayed my pussy wide open for whatever she wanted to do. My mind went back to those climactic moments. This time I was more conscious of moving my hand down my wet soapy body. I gasped and sputtered water as my fingers reached my clit. I was so sensitive! I wished I was sore. I wanted Eleanor to pound me so hard that I couldn't take anymore. She had remained methodical and gentle with her fucking. At the time I was so relieved and glad. Being out of my comfort zone had shaken me up and left me confused and fragile. Now I wanted to ache. I wanted her to beat me, fuck me until I cried for her to stop. My fingers were positioned on either side of my engorged clit. I squeezed it between my fingers and felt it pulse beneath my touch. I moaned as I took my other hand and began to pluck my finger across the tip of my nipple. The hot water ran down my face, dripped down my neck, and slide across my breasts. It felt so heavenly. Close to the sensation of Eleanor's warm mouth when it encircled my hard little nipple. I began sliding my fingers along the length of my pulsing clit. Release, I wanted release! I pause to add a mixture of body wash and baby oil to my palm. I slid my hands all over my body. Loving how the oil made me feel slippery and warm. I turned the water a little hotter. My hands resumed their attention, this time with one leg perched against the side of the shower. I arched my back to rest against the opposite wall my leg was using. I rolled my nipple, slick as it was from the soapy oil. My fingers stroked my hot clit up and down. Up. And. Down. My orgasms began to build in the fire that my fingers had lit. With my head thrown back I shoved my fingers inside myself. I remembered how Eleanor felt when she entered me for the first time. After making her collapse on top of me, she had picked the cuffs up off the floor and cuffed my hands to her wrought iron head board. I remembered how I shivered at her touch down my body, eventually wriggling me out of the strap-on harness. I shuddered in the shower as my orgasm continued to build with the pressure in my lower abdomen. My breath hitched as I added another finger into my pussy. The baby oil and soap mixed with the hot juices that leaked out of me. I inserted another finger until I was full. Though my hands are smaller, I've never put four fingers inside of myself before. I began fucking myself harder and faster to get a consistent rhythm built up as I dived back into my memory. Now Eleanor was wearing the strap-on and had positioned herself over me. The warming oil she had put on the strap-on had smelled like cherries. The sweet smelling oil mixed so nicely with the natural smell of sage. I sighed and opened my legs wider for her as she gently slide her cock inside of me. I gasped at how good she felt. Her sweat sticky body gliding on top of mine. I clamped onto the image in my head. Eleanor on top of me. So close, not crushing, but filling all the empty gaps my body did not. Our bodies fitting and moving like well-placed puzzle pieces. My fingers were frantically gliding in and out of my pussy. It hurt a little because my pussy had begun to tighten around my fingers. I was so close. My other hand spread my pussy lips wide while my other hand mercilessly fucked my continuously tightening pussy. I was so close to the edge. Soon I would be flying with the orgasm built by memories of Eleanor. While I held my pussy lips wide I carefully stroked the very tip of my clit with one free finger. Combined with the harsh stream of water, and the four fingers inside of me I came crashing down. My whole body shuddered as I stroked my clit through the entire orgasm, making the next one build on the previous. Finally, I opened my eyes and realized I was still in the shower. I had completely lost all sense of where I was while dreaming of her. Of her soft ebony hair, and her pale tattooed skin. Suddenly I heard my phone buzz on the bathroom counter. After toweling off I went to see who it was. Eleanors name was above the text notification. How could that be? We never exchanged numbers! The text read, "Put my number in your phone while you were in the bathroom. Hope you don't mind - E."