Leather Novels & Stories

Kayla totally ignores my request as we get to the store. We step in and I am immediately in heaven. For some reason, I have always loved the smell of leather. Kayla knows this and, therefore, uses it as an excuse to have me try on the sexiest outfit she could put together. She hands me a dark brown leather mini skirt, a matching leather tank that zips up the front and a pair of thigh high boots to go with it. I take them to the dressing room and try them on. I look in the mirror, and I have a hard time believing that girl is me.

As she took the lid off the box, the musky smell of leather hit her nostrils, and she inhaled deeply. "Seriously?" she asked as she moved back the tissue paper. "Just wait until you see it," his grin was contagious and she knew she wore one that matched. She gasped as she finally pulled all the paper back, revealing a bunch of black leather. She wasn't sure if it was a jacket or chaps or what, but her hands shook as ran her fingers over the smooth material. "Pick it up and get a good look at it," he instructed her. What she thought was a leather jacket was actually a cut. It had her name stitched

I was excited for her to see the contents inside the box. Suzie turned and glanced at all of us before she opened the box. It took her a moment for her to comprehend what she was seeing. Beside a stack of leather and denim, there was a huge sewing kit and a bunch of hand tools to work with any thick material, especially leather.

The morning was quiet, but for Leo, the silence felt heavy. He stood in the center of his dressing room, a space larger than the entire apartment he had shared with his mother years ago. The walls were lined with mirrors that reflected his tired face from every angle. He walked toward the long rows of suits and shirts. He ran his fingers over the fabrics. Silk so thin it felt like water, wool so soft it shouldn't have been durable, and leather that smelled of expensive wood and old money.

I replied in a deadpan tone, and he shrugged with a grin. “Worth a shot,” he said and looked back at the clothes with his mouth in a grim line. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” I laughed and shooed him into the changing room. I couldn’t help doubling over when he came out. His face was grim and thunderous, and his eyes were twitching. The first one was a mismatched oversized blazer with clear graphene as the shoulder pads. Mycelium leather was used to make his belt, which happened to go on the blazer. Frankly, it was like a cat that lived at a factory had puked all over him.

“Jane, all of this shit is phenomenal and I’m not so sure about the leather trench coat, but these leggings and that pink leather shit? It is priceless and look at these boots! You’ve got them customized down to the fucking rings the laces go through and what’s this? Fucking leather coats with lace ruffled shit?”

He moved around to the front with a slight smile on his lips and pulled the zipper up, watching how the jacket lifted and squeezed her tits together gently. The leather was good quality and would protect her tender skin should there be an accident but it was supple enough to form around her curves without uncomfortable pinching.

when Alex disappeared. He was gone for seven minutes. He returned without explanation. We had lunch at the small table near the bookstore window, which had the view of the road and the water beyond it, and he put a package on the table while I was reading the menu. "Open it," he said. Leather. Dark green, the shade that existed between forest and bottle. Bound properly, not the mass-produced kind.... the individual kind, made with enough attention to communicate that the object was intended to last.

It’s not like I was trying to seduce her, I was just thoughtless. And the clothes were good, too. They smelled of lavender, probably after spending a while inside some chest, but still hadn’t gone out of fashion. Innis—what a good girl—had brought me something in the vein of a hunting outfit. A white shirt in a straightforward style—those could do well in any era—leather pants, and a leather jerkin. The leather was expensive and high-quality, soft as butter. You could wear it without any smallclothes, even. But as for my feet...

If they were bad, Kirou shaped them up and made brushes and other fur-based products that do not require quality fur on the spot and tossed them aside for later use. The leather was treated similarly to the furs in that the good ones were stored away for future use while the bad ones were made into low-quality leather products. As for the wood, Kirou directly tossed those into the heart of the furnace, acting as a secondary source of fuel to burn. Kirou felt no loss in this as all of the wood was too low-quality for Kirou to even give a second glance.