The Leather Love Collar That Makes Me His

The leather love collar was screaming my name in the bag.

The leather love collar made my fingers tremble, So I tug at the drawstring of the cloth bag in my hands. There’s a secret inside, one I ache to share with you. My hand slips in to touch it, and the feeling alone makes my breath catch. I don’t need to try it on to know it’s a perfect fit, and anyway, I want to share that first time with you.

“I bought something for us,” I say when we finally have a quiet moment. “Something special.” I hand the bag to you.

“What is it?” you ask, keeping your eyes on mine as you reach inside for it.

“Pull it out,” I say, with a tremble in my voice.

You do, looking down at the simple circle of black leather closed with a silver buckle. “Is this…for you to wear?”

“It’s for you,” I say, then pause for breath. This is new for us, and I’m not sure how you’ll react. “For you…to collar me. It’s a leather love collar.”

Your eyes fly back to mine and tell a story of interest, uncertainty, and of simmering heat. Next, I take your hand in mine, the strap of the collar between our palms, and stroke my thumb against your skin. “When you fasten this around my neck, I am yours. Completely. So when I wear this I belong to you, to use as you wish.”

There’s a deep vulnerability in your face. “What if I do something wrong?” you ask. “What if I mess up?”

So I smile and cup your cheek in my hand. “I trust you,” I say. “You know how to take care of me.”

Later, when we’ve met in our low-lit bedroom and I sit on my knees before you, you slip the soft leather strap around my neck.

I feel it pull snug, then tight, then relax into place as the prong finds its hole. Subsequently, you slide the leather tail under the bar and smooth your hands over my neck in a gentle stroke. “Comfortable?”

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling like my skin is glowing under the soft hug of the leather love collar. So the fire ignites like a spark in my chest, in my belly, tingles between my legs, all because you’ve claimed me this way, given me this outward sign of your control and your care.

“Good,” you say, coming to stand in front of me. Your cock is hard and proud in front of my face, and your hand laces firmly into my hair. “Open your mouth.”

I obey.

Later still, when my jaw aches beautifully from use when I can still feel the phantom sensation of your fingers in my ass, and when my cunt is sheened with your saliva alongside my slick, you put me on my back and run your fingers up my chest, slowly enough to be maddening. So the head of your cock slips between my folds as your fingertips reach my neck, and my mouth drops open at the sensation.

“There,” you say, bottoming out inside of me as you slip two fingertips between the collar and my skin. It already feels sublime. “You’ve been so good to me.” So you tug just a little, just enough for me to feel that glow inside of me grow and spread. Your fingers are deft, keeping me safe even as you give me one of my deepest desires. I have you, they seem to say. This is new, and I’ll go slow…but I have you, right where you belong.

The leather love collar kept me in place.

So your hips rock into mine, and I meet every thrust, pleasure flowing through me in unrelenting waves. So the leather love collar embraces my neck bringing my climax into focus even as it lets everything else recede until all I can feel is the rising tide between us and every detail of your cock surrounded by my wet heat. Your deep, insistent rhythm pushes me headlong to my peak, and as I cry out with it, your fingers leave my neck, cupping my cheek instead.

So my eyes fly open, meeting yours as I come for you, hard and thorough. You’re close behind me, body going taut as you fill me with your release, a luxurious warmth that amplifies my pleasure. As my tremors recede, you come down to your side and pull me close to your chest, holding me near as we make sensual love.

As we both come back to life, your fingers find my collar, tracing over the leather, lingering at the buckle, then carefully releasing it. So you return the collar to its bag, then slip it into your bedside drawer, reminding me silently that you’ll choose this for me, whenever you know I need it. You return to press sweet kisses around my neck, a sign of your pride and your thanks.

“Was that okay?” you ask as you pull back, caressing my cheek. “Was it what you wanted?”

My smile is wide, taking over my face. “That was more than okay,” I assure you. “That was everything.”

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