I was out shopping with a friend recently, and she pointed to an armchair the store had displayed. “Is that real leather?”
I darted out a finger to brush the surface, and right away I knew the chair was faux. It wasn’t about scientific knowledge—I could tell by the lack of response from my body. When I touch leather—or, God help me, when I smell it—every nerve I’ve got jumps to instant alert. If I press my face against leather or chew on it, I don’t need foreplay.
The fetish extends from there. Not only do I go weak in the knees for a woman in leather, I love to put it on myself. My most prized possession is a leather dress that laces up the front, and I’m also crazy for leather shoes. As far as kink, is there any substitute for a leather paddle?
[Read more…] about Guest Blog: Leather by Annabeth Leong (@annabethleong)