Belinda sighed. She turned her face up into the rain, her pink lips slightly parted, letting the droplets run over her skin, her eyes gently closed, washed by the cool water. She raised her hands and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. It was already soaked and tight against her skin. She whispered his name.
Belinda’s black leather coat was full length, buckled at the waist, but open further up to expose her cleavage. Her smooth bronze skin was jewelled with droplets of water, which collected and grew until they ran down between her heavy breasts. She slid her fingers down brushing her wet skin, sending small streams into the leather confines of her coat.
She sighed again, more deeply this time, and pushed her fingertips inside the lapels of her coat, clawing at her breasts, catching her erect tender nipples between her fingers and squeezing hard, shuddering with arousal.
He was cruel to send her out on a night like this. He had smiled as he had thrown her her coat, and sent her out of the door into the rain without even giving her time to dress. He was cruel to give her to another when he knew she loved him, and knew she would obey his command because she loved him. He was cruel not to tell her anything about what he had planned for her, other than where to be and when.
It was another one of his games, always cruel and degrading, designed to make her feel cheap and deviant, and always so perverse as to make her weak with desire and passion. She loved him, and she loved what he did to her and she loved what he made her.
She had knelt at his feet and looked up at him as he lounged before her, looking fine in his black suit and silk tie, in the heavy armchair of red velvet. She was naked but for black leather cuffs with a chrome ring fixed into each one, which he used to secure her to the brass frame of their bed when the desire took him. At his command she had reached for a cigarette from the coffee table, placed it between her pink lips and lit it, drawing deeply and exhaling a ribbon of blue smoke up into the air before passing the cigarette to him. He had taken it into his thick fingers, and looked closely at the circle of pink lipstick on the filter with a smile. And then he had pushed her forward onto her hands and knees casually with his foot.
“Show me your ass, Belinda,” he’d murmured, “present it up high for me.”
She had obeyed quickly, sinking her upper body down until her breasts were pressed against the cold wooden floor boards and her round ass was turned up to him, her buttocks wide as she pressed herself forward, and she breathed heavily.
He had left her like that for what seemed like an eternity, slowly smoking his cigarette and caressing Belinda’s round buttocks with the leather sole of his shoe. He had pressed the toe of his shoe flat over Belinda’s swollen labia and commanded her to grind against it. She had moaned deeply, immediately aroused.
And now here she was out in the rain, obeying his command, naked beneath her black leather coat and waiting.