Leather Story: Walking Down My Street

Like many of my leather stories, this one was inspired by a real woman I saw, in fact in my neighbourhood, dressed and with the same hairstyle exactly as described here.  She was walking along so confidently that I wondered what impact she might have on other people seeing her.

Walking Down My Street

It was unusual for Jo Carter to be out in her neighbourhood at this time of the day.  Usually she was driving home in stop-start traffic.  Today, however, they were doing something to the heating system in her office and she and most of her colleagues had been told to work from home.  Given that much of what she did was handled over email she wondered why her employers did not let her do this more often; she guessed if she did then she would miss chatting with her colleagues.  Without the stress of the commute, Jo felt more alert than usual and had the urge for something different for dinner.  Normally she would have stopped at an out-of-town store she passed on her daily journey, but she had no desire now to go out into the rush hour traffic and so was heading to the small supermarket close to her than she rarely visited.

It was pretty quiet in her road.  The school kids were home already and the commuters like herself were probably still stuck queuing back into this part of town.  Ahead she caught sight of a young woman.  She looked older than a student but still a little younger than Jo.  She would not see thirty again, but was keen to separate herself from the middle-aged women and even the yummy-mummies of the neighbourhood.  The woman coming towards her had long blonde hair, perhaps accentuated with dye and certainly permed into ringlets that hung down her back.  At first Jo thought she was simply dressed in black, but as the woman came closer, she saw it was black leather.  She had on a smart bomber jacket, with side pockets and a zip done up right to her neck, but without any fussiness of large pockets or fabric around the hem.  Her legs were in leather leggings which disappeared into over-the-knee boots.

For some reason, Jo had slowed her pace and then realised she was taking in everything she could about the woman.  She had never been turned on by a woman and quickly it became apparent that it was what this woman represented that was attracting her attention.  There was something about the confident way she moved.  It was with a sexiness but of a kind different to if she had been tottering along in a short skirt and platform shoes.  Her boots were flat-heeled, but there was certainly something about her being encompassed in the black leather that was some kind of come-on.  It was that, Jo was sure, rather than intimidating.  Everything she wore was of soft, feminine leather, it was not as if she was a biker stomping along the road.  Jo smiled to herself as she thought of the woman as an urban panther.

As they passed the woman noticed Jo and gave her a quick smile.  Now it was apparent that she was off in a world fed into her ears from some device; the earpieces and cables mainly conceals by her hair.  Once she had passed, Jo could not stop turning to look at the woman.  The jacket stopped at her waist and the boots rose higher at the front than the rear.  It was her bum in the tight, clinging leather that held Jo’s attention the most.  She shook herself and looked away, continuing on her journey, wondering where all these drives were coming from.  She knew she was no lesbian.  She and James had split amicably when work had taken him to Dubai and if a decent man turned up she was sure she would leap at him.  Most round this way were under-the-thumb marrieds or elderly.  As she walked on, Jo realised, that she did not want to be with the woman she had seen; she wanted to be that woman – dressed that way; with that confidence and that allure.

****

Jo felt that strange tingle, the dryness in her mouth.  Once more she gazed up the road on the off-chance she would catch sight of the woman in leather.  In fact she would have accepted seeing her in any outfit.  However, though it was the same time of day as when she had last seen her, there was no sign.  Jo had taken to getting to work earlier and leaving earlier so that she was back in her own district by the time she had been her the day she had worked from home.  Though she had not seen the woman again, she found it difficult to douse her confidence that she would be there one more time.  Rationally Jo tried to tell herself the woman may never walk down this road ever again; she might not even come back to this town.  However, something kept her hoping to have another glimpse of that air of confidence of that sexiness – she felt now it was what she was terming ‘sassiness’ that she had so admired and had got her so fired up.  Then the worry that she was becoming obsessed over something for which she might find no relief haunted her and not for the first time Jo worried what impact that would have.  Yet, again there was that optimism, the excitement that she might see the woman and might even talk to her.  It was only the coming of darkness and her feet beginning to tire that finally signalled to Jo that this was futile.

As she returned to her small, rented house, a new idea came to Jo’s mind.  Why should she not be the woman in black leather walking around this neighbourhood?  For a moment she dismissed it as ridiculous.  A reasonably successful office worker with the occasional boyfriend did not dress that way.  She was sure she would look like mutton dressed up as lamb.  Yet, other arguments came, saying that the woman had not been that younger than herself and had looked hot.  Jo was proud of the work she did in the gym and clutching her buttocks, found it very easy to envisage them being held tightly by black leather.

Now it was almost in a daze that Jo went to her computer and started shopping.  There would be nothing too extravagant, but easily she found the clothes she wanted.  For a moment she hesitated in paying for them, but as she pressed the final button she felt a real burst of excitement.  Her breasts and her sex buzzed and she felt a little as if she had vertigo.  The voice saying she was a fool to behave this way was quickly countered by the one that reminded her even if she got these clothes, she did not have to wear them or go out in them.  That night, however, her dreams were filled with her dressed like the woman first seeing someone resembling Jo as she had been coming the other way and then ending up at James’s house with him somehow more muscular than in real life and immediately sweeping her up and giving her mind-blowing sex.

****

Jo looked at her blonde, permed hair in the mirror, wondering if she had made a big mistake.  It was a bank holiday weekend and she had had it styled on Friday evening, glad that many hairdressers these days opened late.  She considered whether she was mad to style herself after a woman she had only seen once.  Then again, she told herself it was no different to the women who modelled themselves on an actress or a celebrity.  She had worried that the style would ultimately not suit her and was prepared to bind it up tight in a bun when she returned to work.  Pushing her qualms aside, Jo tended to her make-up.  She often wore a little to work to sharpen her features.  Now she was putting on a little more, not tarty of course, but trying to hit the sassy appearance she had envisaged.  Satisfied she put in her longest earrings, wanting some that swung when she turned her head.  She already had the black laced panties and bra set she had got when first seeing James and a tight-fitting black devore top she had bought in the sales but never worn.  Then she turned to her new leather clothes.

Jo felt her heart running quickly as she picked up the leggings.  She had not yet tried them on and now worried she would have got the wrong size.  However, as she propped herself on the edge of the bed and began to pull them on, they felt perfect.  They were quickly at her knees and then on to her thighs and she stood to tug them into place over her bum.  The leather was so smooth to touch.  She could hardly believe that her legs could look like this.  Now she slipped on the cashmere socks and turned to the boots.

The over-the-knee boots stood proud by her bed, columns of smart black leather.  Seeing how well crafted they were she began to perceive them as more than suitable for a smart, successful woman like herself.  Feeling so good getting into these clothes kept making Jo feel that despite any worries she had had, she was doing something very right.  She wondered if she could get away with these at work; perhaps a suede pair.  Steadily Jo accepted that she had turned a corner and now would not look at how she should dress in the same way ever again.  With the boots on, Jo stood up.  The heel was low, but there was something about having these on that made her feel ready to battle the world as if her hero was about to burst through the door and tell her she had to come and fight demons or vampires.  She was pleased at this confidence and trusted it would be enough to help her finish off what she intended rather than skulk here posing before the mirror in her bedroom.

Jo slung the small shoulder bag on, it already had her phone, her front door key and cards in it; her small MP3 player as well.  The final touch was so slide into the bomber jacket and zip it up, keeping her bag tucked inside.  Once more, Jo ran her hands down the sheer leather, loving the soft feel, the gentle creak as she moved and the rich aroma of what she wore.  Then she turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder, really loving how her hair cascaded and especially how her bum was held in her leggings; proudly showing the lines she had worked on in the gym.  Now there was nothing to stop her.  In moments she was down the stairs and out of the door.  She pulled it closed and strode from her front door before she could allow herself to worry if any of her neighbours would see her.  No matter how much she told herself that they would not recognise her or that they had no concern about her or that this was the new her anyway and they had to accept it, that worry kept intruding.

Then Jo found herself out on the street, walking away from her home and wondering how the clothes she wore shaped the way she moved.  For a moment she thought about putting her earphones in but found she was too hyped up to do that and instead tucked her hands into her jacket pockets.  Then it felt as if she had clicked into place; as if she had altered history and she was the woman that she had first seen – a future echo of herself.  These were foolish ideas, Jo knew, but as she walked on, it was as if she was sealing herself into being this woman; dressing and behaving this way.  She realised that gave her a thrill and her body buzzed with that sensation as if it was aware of the exciting opportunities she had opened up.

Without really thinking where she was going, Jo found herself in the centre of town, alert to how people, men and women of different ages were looking at her.  Jo felt a frisson as a man her age with that rugged look that suddenly found she liked smiled as he passed and as she turned to look after him, her earrings and hair swinging the way she planned, she saw him looking back.  Jo loved to think his eyes were on her leather-clad bum as she strode on.  She was becoming aware of a feedback loop.  The sexier she appeared, the way others reacted to her changed and that attention made her feel sexier too.  Then she turned into a wine bar that she had always felt self-conscious about being in alone; she had not visited it since James had flown to Dubai.  She ordered a white wine and found herself on one of the large sofas, wondering if her black leather on the brown was too much.  However, she dismissed such a thought and began eyeing up the men coming in.  Many were part of a couple or in groups with friends, but she appraised them all the same as if considering whether she would let them come to where she held court.  She found herself a little critical of the girlfriends who appeared too dowdy, feeling now that she was a cut above them – sassy and in control of what she wanted from life.  She had a feeling that if these were the kinds of rewards she got from dressing this way she was going to be buying a lot of variations on this outfit.

“Would you like a drink?”

Jo turned to the sound of the voice and realised that this man had crept up on her blindside.  He was perhaps a few years older than herself, but well-groomed with a tidy beard and in clothes that looked the smarter side of casual without making him seem like the typical man around here.

“Sure.”  Jo responded, smiling.

She had not thought this through but the tingle her body gave her knew the best way to cap this evening’s adventure was to at least attract a man and see where it would go from there.  The man placed a replica of her drink in front of her and then sat down on the sofa beside Jo.

“Matt.”  He said.

“Jo – Josephine.”  She lied, her full name was Joanne, but that felt too mundane.  “You are confident that I’d accept.”

Matt smiled.  “It’s no use going into something half-heartedly.”

“True.”  Jo took the wine and sipped it.  “You got it right.”

“That was not too hard.”  He nodded to the barman.

“But many men would not think to do that.”

“I’m not like many men and I feel you’re not like many women.”

Jo knew these were lines but she found she enjoyed this game.  “No, I am a queen, a goddess.  Welcome to my court.”  She gestured to the table and sofa, but then smiled broadly to suggest it was a jest.

“You are interesting, Josephine.”

“I like to think so.”

Jo, widened the stance of her legs, and ran her hands over her leather covered thighs; she unzipped her jacket a little further to give hints of her body held and shown off in the devore below.  She hoped that this was enough of a signal for now.  In the last few moments, Jo realised, her body had taken another step.  Already excited by how she dressed and was behaving, it was going further, demanding that she had sex with this man.  Matt’s hand came to rest on her thigh and Jo simpered at the move, loving how it reminded her how her legs were sheathed so tightly in leather.  Gently she took it and moved it to the top of her leggings, almost startled by her daring, but welcoming it as Matt’s touch rested on her mound, showing her how aroused she was.  Jo felt in control and she loved the sense that she could engineer the kind of encounter she knew she was hungry for.

****

As they walked up to the door of Jo’s house, with Matt’s arm resting across her tightly held bum, Jo realised what she had locked herself into.  Of course, this might only prove to be a one-night stand, though there was no question now that it would not end in sex.  Jo had little doubt given how she had built up to this, she would come very quickly.  However, if this was the beginning of her next relationship, she knew Matt would not be with Joanne the rather dull businesswoman out on the weekend in baggy jeans, sweatshirt and trainers, it would be with Josephine would had to have her body clad in the sexiest leathers.  She kissed Matt deeply then turned to open the door; as she stepped inside in her long boots, Jo knew that once again this evening she was stepping onto a new path in her life, one there was no way back from.  From now on people might see a blonde-haired, leather wearing woman sashaying down this street, but it would be her, that was for sure.