LADIES IN LEATHER GLOVES

Like Son, Like Father

Part Seventeen

When Timothy had finished wiping himself with tissue paper, Carolyn offered him a fresh washcloth and towel along with the use of her bathroom.  After five minutes, Timothy emerged from the shower to find Carolyn leaning back on the leather couch with her left foot on the edge of the cushion and her right leg spread out to the side so that her twat was readily visible.  She sat with the intertwined fingers of her hands clasped over her propped-up left knee.  Somehow, she managed effortlessly to look both salacious and elegant.  Timothy's attention was immediately drawn to the casual way the bare fingers of her ungloved left hand were interlocked with the fingers of her gloved right hand in their skintight sheaths of softly gleaming black kidskin.  The next thing to draw his attention was that a bullwhip was now looped over the bronze phallus.  Had it been there all along?  Perhaps it had been hidden under the black kidskin gloves, and he had simply failed to notice it.  In any case, the whip introduced a terribly real element of danger for Timothy.  He had seen what Carolyn Chadwick was capable of doing with a bullwhip held in her sinister gloved hand.  

"Come to me, Timmy," said Carolyn, motioning him over to her with a gleaming black, kidskin-encased finger.  "Don't be frightened by my whip.  It's as much your friend as my gloves are.  Sit back down and help me put my left glove on.  I don't think it's very fair that my left hand should go naked when my right hand is so deliciously gloved - do you?"  

With his rapidly hardening wick pointing at the ceiling again, Timothy replied, "It's fairer than what you did to Wilbur this morning!  J-J-Just because you wear gloves, that doesn't give you the right to do what you did to him!"  

Carolyn stood up and took a couple of steps toward Timothy.  Holding her long left glove in her gloved right hand, she lashed out at Timothy's erection with it.  The slender leather fingers snapped against the tender underside of his vertical hard-on.  His pecker-head thumped against his abdomen.  Screaming in agony, Timothy fell to his knees.  He instinctively tried to protect himself by covering as much of the length of his glove-whipped pecker as he could with his hands.  Again, Carolyn lashed out.  This time, the thumb and gleaming black kidskin fingers of her left glove snapped against his balls near the underside of the base of his shaft. Timothy's balls jumped.  He fell on his side and rolled about the floor in pain. Then, in an effort to stand up, Timothy struggled back onto his knees.  As he glanced up at Carolyn Chadwick, she whipped her empty left glove across his boyish face.  The black leather fingers cracked against his nose and cheekbones.  

"EEE-YOWWW-HOO-HOO-HOO-HOO!" screamed Timothy.  He felt as though the leather fingers had almost whipped the skin off his face.  

"How could anything so soft sting so hard?" he thought.  Of course, he realized that part of it was due to practice: he was not the first male to have his face glove-whipped by Carolyn Chadwick.  Had she done the same to his father?  For that matter, had she done the same thing to her deceased former husband, whose fortune she had inherited?  

"Timmy," said Carolyn softly, holding up his quivering chin in the leather-gloved fingers of her right hand, "I hardly have to tell you how ridiculous you are to compare me to Wilbur Longwood.  Women the right to wear gloves any time we want. Wilbur does not have the right to expose himself in public any time he wants.  But your comparison is inappropriate for another reason.  Women and males are simply not comparable.  Research has shown that a male's genetic code actually has more in common with that of a chimpanzee than it does with that of a woman.  Doubtless, that partly explains why we are the objects of your desire.  You yearn for that which is completely beyond your male condition."  

"W-Well, you didn't have to whip me to make your point," sniveled Timothy.  

"I didn't.  I whipped you for fun.  And I can see it was fun for you, too," giggled Carolyn mischievously as she wrapped her left glove around Timothy's pecker and balls and drew him ambling on his knees over to the couch.  "Look at you, my teary-faced little monkey!" she laughed.  "Honestly, Timmy, are you always so serious?  Let's see your smile - that happy, innocent little smile."  

With the leather-sheathed tips of the thumb and index finger of her gloved right hand, Carolyn pushed the corners of Timothy's quivering mouth upward.  With tears still fresh on his cheeks, Timothy's face looked like an absurdly comical mask contorted into a smile.  Carolyn laughed playfully as they both sat back down on the couch.  

"If you aren't the funniest little sack of cum!" she said.  "There's no need for that long, funny face!  Here, Timmy, go ahead - kiss!"  

Carolyn placed the palm of her gloved right hand over Timothy's mouth while squeezing his nose in the crotch between her leather-sheathed index and middle fingers.  Timothy's semen-loaded boner immediately swung up and tapped Carolyn's leather-encased elbow, where it deposited a little droplet of glistening cum. Timothy fervently kissed the black leather pressed to his lips while he inhaled the rich aroma of kidskin from the soft leather between Carolyn's fingers.  He felt giddy with pleasure.  

"Now help me on with my other glove while we discuss your father," said Carolyn.  As Timothy struggled to breath with his nose wedged into the crotch between her gloved index and middle fingers, Carolyn continued, "You know something, Timmy?  Guys are so ugly that you're actually kind of cute!  But I'm getting off the subject.  Was there anything you wanted to ask about your father and me?"  Carolyn removed her gloved palm from over Timothy's mouth and tickled him lightly under his chin with her softly leathered fingertips.  

"W-W-Well, it's probably none of my business," said Timothy, as he started working Carolyn's left glove over her hand and up her arm, "but what happened to Mr. Chadwick - your first husband?"  

Carolyn gave Timothy a light, playful little kid-gloved pat on his cheek and said, "You're right, Timmy.  That's none of your business.  But, since you're going to be my stepchild, I want to be perfectly open with you.  Florien Chadwick died of natural causes three years ago.  It happened while we were having sex.  Perhaps I should have been more attentive at the time.  Florien did not seem quite his usual self that day.  But it didn't affect his performance in bed.  Even though he was seventy-two years old, he rammed me like a twenty year-old while drooling and slobbering like a baby.  I thought the old fart must have pumped about a quart and a half into me.  He could never get enough of my teats and scrumptious kidskin gloves.  When he finally slipped out of me, I took his penis and wrung it completely sperm-dry.  Then I held my hand in front of him so that he could lick it clean. That was always one of Florien's favorite activities: licking my glove after I had milked him dry.  But, when I held my hand before him on that fatal evening, I got no response.  Instead, he just clutched his chest with his bony old fingers like he was in some kind of distress.  I decided that, for not licking his gooey mess off my gloves, I would teach him a lesson he would never forget.  I lashed him to a Saint Andrew's cross and whipped the daylights out of him!  About an hour later, he was ready to have another go.  

This time he rammed me like he was going to squirt his brains out!  But just as he was about to cum, his entire body stiffened.  As I caressed his face with kidskin, the veins on his forehead looked ready to explode.  Suddenly, he just collapsed on me in a heap.  He didn't weigh much, but I still don't know how I ever got out from under his dead weight.  When I finally rolled him onto his back, I noticed that his pecker was still as hard as a rock.  He had died happy!   

I immediately called my favorite sculptor and had a mold of his hard-on made.  From that one mold, I had a whole bunch of bronze casts of his final erection made.  The bronze phalluses are not only nice sculptures but they're also great for hanging hats, scarves, whips and gloves on.  I even have a coat rack in a closet off the main hall with a row of about forty of them for hanging furs when friends come by. But, you know, Timmy, in retrospect, I probably should have taken Florien to the hospital after that first round of sex instead of whipping him for not licking my gloves.  If I had, he might still be alive today.  But I'm human just like anyone. I guess we all make mistakes!  

Of course, sometimes, just when things look worst, everything turns out for the best.  Your father is even better hung than Florien was.  In the Reverend, I've found another phenomenal sex toy!  And I know that your father is going to be happier than ever before in his life!  Timmy, you must be so happy for both of us! You are, aren't you?"  

Timothy had just about finished smoothing Carolyn's left glove over her hand and working each finger to a perfect fit.  He was not at all sure how he felt about his father and Carolyn Chadwick getting married.  

"I-I d-don't k-know, Mrs. Chadwick," stammered Timothy.  "This is all so s-sudden, so confusing!"  

"You may call me 'Carolyn', Timmy," said Carolyn Chadwick.  "I don't stand on formalities.  Anyway, in a few months, you'll be calling me 'Mom'."  

The thought staggered Timothy.  Would his father, the Reverend Alvin Horsewick, really spend the rest of his life as nothing more than a dog to be whipped and played with at the leather-gloved hands of this wealthy young heiress?  

With her fingers in their softly gleaming black kidskin sheaths wrapped around Timothy's cock, Carolyn gently pulled Timothy off the couch and into a kneeling position on the floor at her feet.  She held her gloved hands out so that Timothy could button each glove at the wrist.  

"Timmy," said Carolyn, "you blame yourself for your father's conviction and sentence, don't you?"  

"Yes, I do.  If it weren't for me, Dad would never have gone through any of this!"  

"That's not necessarily true, Timmy," said Carolyn, gently stroking Timothy's chin and neck with kid-gloved fingers.  "Your father was overdue for something to happen; he had denied his own human nature for too long.  He denied all his longings and desires because he thought that they would never be met.  Did you know that, before your father met your mother, he was in love with Stacy Rodger's mother?"  

"What?" said Timothy.  

"Yes," said Carolyn.  "Long before your father ever met your mother, he had fallen in love with the girl who would one day be Stacy Rodger's Mom.  Your father told me all about it.  It began during a school dance when the future Mrs. Rodgers showed up in a very provocative gown.  She was also wearing opera-length black kidskin gloves like the ones I'm wearing right now.  All the other girls at the dance wore short white cotton gloves - what many young women derisively refer to as 'training gloves'.  But the future Mrs. Rogers was gloved all the way up her arms in the real thing - sumptuous, skintight black kid leather.  Needless to say, your father was not the only boy drooling over her.  Many boys must have cried inwardly to themselves in longing for her that night.  Doubtless, at least a few came right in their pants.  

After that dance, Alvin asked Alicia Carmichael -the future Mrs. Rodgers - for a date on many, many occasions.  But Alicia had no interest in Alvin.  She spent her time with wilder boys.  Your father was heart-broken.  He eventually denied all his love for Alicia and married your Mom, a woman who, by comparison, was very nice but quite modest and plain - the sort of woman who would never think of wearing leather.  

  Timmy, now do you understand why your father tried to take Alicia's gloves from Stacy?  He not only thought that they were wicked and sinful, but he secretly wanted them as a memento of how Alicia looked at that dance.  He tried to ruin them because he felt that Stacy had no right to tempt boys like you in the same way that Stacy's mother had tempted him - and then denied him for years and years afterward.  Surely, Timmy, you know as well as anyone what that sort of denial and sexual repression can do to a human being!  Your father was only able to suppress his deepest longings and desires for so long and no longer."  

When Timothy finished buttoning Carolyn's gloves, she inserted the kidskin-sheathed middle finger of her right hand in his mouth.  As his lips closed around it, she slowly slid her gloved finger in and out.  When Timothy closed his eyes in a state of total bliss, Carolyn gripped his pecker in her gloved hand, pulled him to his feet and led him by his erection over to her bed.   

"Timmy, your father will be happy beyond his wildest dreams with me," said Carolyn. "Today, I will show you the kind of pleasure that your father will experience the rest of his life.  And I will also show you the kind of punishment that you can expect from me, should you ever be a naughty stepson."  

Timothy's head was swimming.  He could barely think straight with his boner in Carolyn Chadwick's leather-gloved grip.  And yet, the situation demanded that he try to think clearly - with his head rather than his pecker.  As they sat down on the edge of Carolyn's bed, Timothy said, "So, as the future Mrs. Horsewick, you're going to be satisfied moving into the rectory and living the life of a parson's wife?"  

Carolyn stared blankly at Timothy for a moment.  Then, with a gloved hand clapped over her mouth, she burst into gleeful laughter and playfully batted Timothy's pecker-head with her other kid-gloved hand.

"Ow!" said Timothy.  

Carolyn continued to giggle for a few moments with her face buried in her leather-gloved hands.  "Timmy," she said, brushing aside tears of laughter with her gloved fingertips, "you make me laugh!  You sweet little monkey!  Do you have any idea of how cute and funny you are?  'Carolyn Horsewick' - what a scream!"  And she began to laugh all over again.  

"I didn't mean it to be funny," said Timothy indignantly.  "I don't see what's funny about my last name.  'Horsewick' is a time-honored, venerable name."  

"Of course it is, Timmy.  Of course it is.  But nevertheless your father is going to change his last name to Chadwick before we marry.  It's only a single syllable change.  That way, when I take your father's name, I'll be keeping the same name I already have, and I won't have all the paperwork for Chadwick Enterprises to deal with.  By the way, if you also want to change your last name to Chadwick, you're perfectly welcome to do so.  As your father's son and as my stepson, you'll be heir to the Chadwick fortune - but only if you behave yourself, of course.  But, then, if you misbehave, I just might have to discipline you.  After all, as your stepmother, it will be my responsibility to see to it that you grow to be a moral and upright young man.  But I can see that you are already quite upright!" said Carolyn as she again wrapped her kid-gloved fingers around Timothy's erection.  

Timothy could not quite believe what was happening to him.  Just moments before, Carolyn's leather-gloved hand had milked him sperm-dry.  Now he was about to shoot still another full load all over her glove.  Timmy wondered how much pleasure he could take in Carolyn's leathered hands before he passed out or worse - before he succumbed to a heart attack like Mr. Chadwick had.  

"Timmy, dear," said Carolyn.  "I'm not about to live the life of a parson's wife. That would defeat the purpose of marrying your father.  Your father is going to live here with me at Chadwick Manor."  

"But will you be faithful to him as his wife?" said Timothy.  

"Of course I will," said Carolyn.  "But that doesn't mean that I might not have some other woman jerk him off and whip him for me if I'm busy fucking some other guy. Stop thinking, Timmy.  Just lay back on the bed and relax."

  Wrapping a leather-gloved arm around Timothy's neck, Carolyn wrestled him onto his back on the bedspread.  Timothy was surprised at how roughly this elegant, sophisticated young woman liked to play.  For a moment, Carolyn squeezed his head in the crook of her arm.  With his face buried in warm, buttery-soft leather, Timothy thought he was going to suffocate.  Moving her right leg across Timothy's rigid pecker, Carolyn then laid on top of him and caressed the cheeks of his face with her kid-gloved hands.  The long tresses of her light brown hair cascaded down on both sides of Timothy's head.

  "Sometimes I like to play rough, Timmy," said Carolyn with her lips brushing his. "How about you?"

  "S-S-Sure," said Timothy, although he was anything but sure.

  Carolyn sat up on Timothy's chest and, without warning, punched him in the face with her gloved right hand.  Giggling, she then whacked his face with her left gloved hand.  His face smarted from the sharp sting of Carolyn's leathered knuckles and palm.

  "I'm sorry, Timmy," she said.  "You looked so stupid that my gloves just couldn't resist!  You must love being so irresistible to women!"

  Timothy's eyes welled with tears and his swollen pecker thumped against Carolyn's ass.

  Laughing, Carolyn said,  "Your erection is spanking my backside in return.  That's so sweet!  I think the little guy is telling us that he would enjoy another dance in my leathered fingers.  Don't you?  Or do you think he's just knocking on heaven's door - saying 'Let me in!  I want to share in all of that glovely pleasure!'  Or maybe it's a bit of both!"

  Carolyn sat between Timothy's legs with her own legs over his and on either side of his torso.  Slowly and deliciously, she began to stroke both sides of his rigid shaft with her leather-gloved fingertips while gently kneading the underside of his shaft with her gloved thumbs.  Carolyn could feel the blood pulsing in his hard-on through the skintight leather of her gloves.  She knew that his heart was racing at a mile a minute.  Occasionally, she would rub his throbbing penis between the fleecy-soft palms of her black leather gloves.  Delirious from the buttery-soft touch of Carolyn's leathered hands, Timothy felt the sperm in his balls beginning to churn.  Propping himself up on his hands, he sat up.  Carolyn wrapped her legs around his scrawny little rump and momentarily caressed his face with her kid leather gloves.  She pressed a gloved palm against his lips so that he could kiss the warm leather.  Then, using only her gloved fingertips on either side of his pecker-head, Carolyn massaged Timothy's boner up toward her and, leaning down a little, tickled the tip with her tongue.  Her kid-gloved fingers then slid back down the length of his shaft.  With her gloved thumb and fingers encircling the base, she jerked his cock, making the long stalk dance about.   

When pre-cum began oozing out onto his pecker-head, Carolyn gently pressed a leather-gloved fingertip against the slit and said, "Not yet, Timmy.  Not yet." With one gloved hand on his throbbing shaft and the other around the back of his neck and side of his face, Carolyn held him close to her.  She brushed her lips against his ear and whispered, "I know it's not fair, my little glove-lover.  I know it's not fair.  But it's going to be okay.  Your role in this life is merely to worship and serve, Timmy.  To worship and to serve."

Then, teasingly, Carolyn cooed, "Mmmm!  Your cock feels so good, my little glove-lover, when I grip it with my glove.  The leather so soft on my fingers must be soft on your penis as well.  Like you, your penis is quite the little glove-lover, isn't he?"  

"GOD, YES!" moaned Timothy in ecstasy.  

"Well," said Carolyn, "maybe not so little, though!"  

Still gripping Timothy's throbbing boner with her leather-gloved hand, Carolyn rose up and lowered herself onto it.  As her gloved fingertips guided it between the lips of her vagina, his sperm-loaded pecker slid up inside her slippery, steamy pussy. With her gloved hands on Timothy's shoulders, Carolyn slowly pushed him back into a supine position on the bed.  She then lay with her teats against his chest and rolled him over on top of her.  

"Timmy," she said, "do you think it's proper to be fucking your father's future bride?  I think that you are being extremely naughty and deserve a spanking."

  As he rammed his hard-on deep up inside her, she spanked his rump sharply with her gloved right hand.  His cries of agony and pleasure were indistinguishable.  The physical sensations of pain and pleasure merged into one.  Carolyn's gloves were both cruel and kind, wicked and loving.  The black kidskin leather that so intimately sheathed and pleasured her beautiful, privileged hands made Timothy realize more than ever how far above him she was.  He could never be her equal.  But the more distant he felt from her, the more he longed to be one with her, to pour his very being into her. 

  As his hips pounded away at her, his thrusts became shorter but more rapid.  Carolyn enveloped his face in the warmth of her leather-gloved hands, filling his brain with the rich aroma of kidskin.  Her kidskin-gloved hands seemed to reek of sex.  As she folded one gloved hand over his lips, drool ran out the corner of his mouth onto the palm of her glove.  The load that had been churning in his balls surged up his wick in an unstoppable torrent, as his entire being erupted in mind-bending explosions of pleasure.  When he tried to inhale through his mouth, his lungs pulled the palm of Carolyn's glove against his lips.  The sensation of the tautly stretched black kidskin sucked flat against his lips like a leather membrane while Carolyn's other gloved hand cracked against his rump made Timothy fuck her demonically.

  "HER GLOVES!" thought Timothy with his hips pounding furiously.  As pleasure flooded his entire being, he felt almost like a missile burning up upon reentry into earth's atmosphere.  When Timothy had completely emptied his balls into Carolyn, he briefly blacked out.