Blind Submission: A Leather Desire

The scent of leather and something subtly floral hung in the air, a strange combination that both intrigued and unsettled me as I stepped into Logan’s room. It wasn’t an opulent space, not in the way one might expect from a film set, but it was clean, minimalist, and undeniably sensual. The plush, dark brown leather sofa dominated the room, its cushions inviting and worn, suggesting countless hours of comfort and pleasure. A low table beside it held a few essentials: a vibrator, a bottle of water, and a small bowl of what looked like pistachios. The lighting was dim, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the room’s slightly clandestine atmosphere.

Logan greeted me with a genuine smile, warm and disarming. “Come in, Jia! I’m Logan—nice to meet you. Have a seat on the sofa,” he said, gesturing toward the inviting couch. “You know why you’re here, right? We’re casting for adult films, and we need to make sure you’re comfortable and confident on camera.” His eyes held a flicker of anticipation, a hint of the pleasure he anticipated both from me and from showcasing my body on film.

“Okay, sounds great!” I replied, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. The whole situation felt surreal, like stepping into a dream both exciting and slightly frightening.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, but first—strip to your underwear,” he instructed, his voice smooth and confident. The request felt both intrusive and oddly liberating. Stripping down in front of a stranger, knowing that my every movement would be observed, was an experience unlike any I’d had before. Still, there was a strange thrill to it, a sense of vulnerability that somehow felt empowering.

With deliberate movements, I unbuttoned my blouse, letting it slide off my shoulders and pool at my feet. It was a silk camisole, pale lavender in color, and as it fell to the floor, it revealed the delicate lace of my white bra and matching panties. Then, I shimmied out of my jeans, pulling them down and letting them hang around my ankles. The white cotton of the jeans felt cool against my skin as I stepped out of them, revealing my pale, toned body. Finally, I turned around, my movements fluid as I pivoted to give him a full view of my figure. It wasn't a particularly impressive physique, but it was undeniably feminine and soft, and I felt a strange sense of exposure as I waited for his assessment.

“Very nice,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping over my body with a discerning eye. “Now, sit down again.” I reclined on the sofa, one foot on the floor and the other draped casually on the cushion, my posture relaxed but alert. The leather beneath me was soft and yielding, molding to my form. The air hung thick with anticipation.

“Do you like sex?” Logan asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locked on mine. The question hung in the air, a silent challenge.

“I love sex,” I replied without hesitation, my voice a little breathless. The simple answer felt surprisingly honest, reflecting my own desires and fantasies.

Logan chuckled softly, a low rumble in his chest. “What if you’re not getting it? Do you masturbate?” The question felt invasive, pushing me to reveal a personal aspect of myself that I wasn’t entirely comfortable sharing.

“Yes,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s a good way to explore my desires and find out what I truly enjoy.”

“Do you prefer fingers or toys?” he pressed, his gaze unwavering. The contrast between the intimacy of manual stimulation and the mechanical pleasure of a toy was a fascinating thought.

“Both,” I added, a little hesitantly. “I start with fingers, then move on to toys when things get really intense.”

“Stand up,” Logan instructed. “Lose the bra now.” The command felt abrupt, pulling me back into the present moment. With my fingers moving deftly to the clasp of my bra, unhooking it and letting it fall away. The cool air brushed against my bare breasts, sending shivers down my spine.

Logan gasped softly, captivated by the sight of my exposed tits. “Now cup your tits in your hands,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “Sensitive nipples?”

“Oh, very,” I murmured, instinctively bringing my hands to my breasts, cupping them gently and feeling the warmth of my own blood flowing beneath my skin. I pinched my nipples lightly, feeling the sensitive buds respond almost immediately, hardening into tight buds as I pressed down. My body shivered, my breath became irregular, and a soft moan escaped my lips. The sensation was both painful and pleasurable, a thrilling blend of discomfort and arousal.

“Happy doing that?” Logan asked, leaning closer, his scent filling my nostrils. He smelled faintly of sandalwood and something spicy, a combination that both intrigued and aroused me.

“Oh yes,” I replied, emboldened by the pleasure, and then, boldly, I lifted my right tit to my lips, my tongue flicking out to taste my own nipple. I sucked it gently, my eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Would you like to play with my tits?” I asked, my voice a sultry invitation.

Logan stepped closer, his hands replacing mine. His fingers traced the curves of my tits, his mouth finding my other nipple. He sucked and teased it, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak until I moaned softly, my head tilting back in pleasure. The pressure of his hand on my breast, combined with the sensation of my own tongue teasing the nipple, was exquisite.

“Sit again,” he commanded. I reclined on the sofa. “Would you masturbate on camera?” he asked. The thought of performing for an audience, even just one, made my stomach churn. But the thrill of the forbidden, the potential for both pleasure and humiliation, was too tempting to resist.

“Oh, yes,” I replied without hesitation. My heart pounded in my chest, anticipation building with each passing moment.

“Then touch yourself through your panties,” he instructed. I shifted my weight, adjusting my position on the sofa, and began to rub myself against the lace of my panties, my movements slow and deliberate. The fabric felt cool against my skin, a welcome contrast to the heat building within me. My breath quickened as I slid my hand up and down my slit, then in circles, trying to focus on the sensations, pushing away the nervousness that threatened to overwhelm me.

“Slide your hand underneath,” he urged, his voice a low murmur. I obeyed, gasping softly as my fingers made contact with my wetness. “How do you feel?” he pressed.

“I feel damp,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. The realization that I was aroused, fully aware of my own body and its desires, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“And how do you think you’ll feel being filmed in close-up?” he pressed, his eyes intense and probing. The thought of being scrutinized, exposed, was daunting, but the desire for pleasure was stronger.

“Will I have to?” I asked, my voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes,” he replied firmly. “Remove your panties.” The words hung in the air, confirming my fears. With a deep breath, I lifted my hips, sliding my panties down my legs and kicking them aside. My pussy was fully exposed now, vulnerable and exposed. The sight of my own naked body, laid bare for his gaze, made me feel both ashamed and strangely empowered.

“Stand up and turn around,” Logan commanded. “Bend over, hands on the sofa. And open your legs wide.” I complied, my body arching gracefully as I rested my hands on the sofa cushion, my legs spreading wide to reveal my pussy. The angle was perfect, allowing him to capture every detail, every curve, every nuance of my body.

“Touch your pussy,” he instructed. I reached between my legs, my fingers tracing the contours of my lips, parting them slightly to expose my clit. “How does it look?” I teased, trying to inject some humor into the situation.

“Delicious!” he replied, his voice filled with lust. “Sit down again, legs wide,” he instructed. I reclined on the sofa, my legs spread wide as I leaned back, my fingers moving to my clit. I licked my middle finger, circling my clit before sliding it inside myself. It emerged glistening with my wetness, and I brought it to my lips, tasting myself before returning to my clit.

Logan knelt in front of me. He slid his middle finger inside my pussy a few times, then reached for a vibrator on the nearby table, handing it to me. I switched it on, the low hum of the vibrator filling the room as I pressed it to my pussy lips. I eased it inside, my breath ragged as I buried it deeper with each thrust. Logan watched as I surrendered to the sensations coursing through me.

“Time to test your cocksucking.” He began to undress. His shirt came off first. I licked my lips, my eyes never leaving him as he kicked off his shoes and then slipped off his socks. The sight of his naked body, vulnerable and exposed, sent a shiver down my spine. It was an odd mix of excitement and trepidation.

The final act was the most anticipated: he unbuckled his pants, letting them slide down his hips, his erection swaying free as he stepped out of them. He stood before me, his cock erect, the tip glistening with pre-cum. It was a magnificent sight, a symbol of his arousal and my pleasure.

“Very nice,” Jia murmured, her voice a sultry invitation. She rose from her seat, her eyes never leaving his. She reached out, her hand closing around the base of his shaft, her touch firm yet gentle. Slowly, she lifted his cock vertically, her fingers tracing the length of him. Then she leaned in, her mouth finding his head, her tongue swiping the underside. She thrust deep inside her, her body arching in pleasure.

“Oh,” he sighed, the sound escaping him before he could stop it. Her tongue was warm and wet.

She took his hand, pulling him closer. They began to move together, their bodies grinding against each other, their moans echoing through the room. The air was thick with anticipation and desire. It felt primal, raw, and utterly consuming. The world faded away, leaving only the sensation of skin on skin, the taste of arousal, and the shared pleasure of their bodies.

The climax arrived in a torrent of sensation, a wave of heat that washed over them both. Their moans intensified, their bodies convulsing with pleasure. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the intensity subsided, leaving them breathless and spent. They lay there for a moment, intertwined, savoring the aftermath of their shared pleasure.

She smirked and moved toward the sofa. She lay back on the pillows, her legs spreading wide, her pussy exposed and glistening with anticipation. He knelt between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs as he leaned in. She moaned softly, her hands tangling in his hair as he buried his face in her pussy, his tongue flicking her clit.

“Oh, that feels so good,” she gasped.

His tongue was lapping at her, his lips sucking gently, his fingers pressing into her thighs to hold her steady. Her moans grew louder, her body tensing as pleasure built within her.

“OH MY! OH!!” she screamed, her hips bucking off the sofa as she climaxed, her pussy clenching around his tongue. Pleasure rippled through her, her body shaking as she rode out the orgasm, her hands gripping his hair tightly. When her shudders finally subsided, she whispered, “Fuck me.”

He slid up her body. Pulling her legs wide, he positioned himself at her entrance, then thrust deep inside her in one smooth stroke.

“Oh!” they moaned together, their bodies merging as he began to move.

“You feel so good,” he groaned.

Her tits bounced with each thrust. Her hand moved between her legs, her fingers rubbing her clit as he fucked her. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans, the slap of skin on skin, the wetness of their bodies joining.

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