Loving leather has never been difficult for me. I’ve always had a leather fetish – the smell of it and its coldness against my naked skin are complete turn-ons. I insist that any shoes, shoulder-bags or whips that I’m given must be made from it because imitation leather doesn’t impress me at all.

Even leather sofas get me excited and – if I see one and get a chance – I always make sure that I lie on it. I have to be full-length, naked and on my own to get the biggest thrill. Unfortunately, having energetic sex on one isn’t recommended as the more you’re pushed into it, the louder it’s embarrassing noises become. It’s worse when you get sweaty and have to peel yourself from its sticky surface after you’ve both finished.

I was posing topless last week and noticed – all of a sudden – that I was getting cold. I pouted my full lips, lowered my glasses and looked around me. In moments I spotted Sebas’ black leather jacket lying on the floor in a far corner of the room. I shook my ringlets, bent down to pick it up and asked him about it. He explained that it was brand-new and that he hadn’t even worn it properly yet. That detail began to excite me and I realised that I needed to sniff its aroma close-up. New leather is intoxicating to my senses and this jacket was no exception.

I grasped its collar and hauled it up from the floor. It was reassuringly heavy and rigid with lack of use. The jacket was also cold to the touch and – after I dragged it around me – I shivered and felt small inside it. It felt even colder against my naked back, cleavage and stiff nipples. I was glad my legs had nude stockings on them, at least. It became a pleasure to put up with the discomfort as we got on with the shoot.

This is the result.

Photos by Sebas Romero.
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This post is also available in: Spanish

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