Roaming in the Leather Realm

When I moved to Toronto, I was 49 years-old. At the time, Tom of Finland’s artwork impressed me, gave me a hard-on to be honest. I especially liked his drawings of guys in leather. One of them features two men face to face, bulging crotch to bulging crotch. So fucking arousing! In Toronto, I found a nice apartment near the Gay Village that stretches along Church Street (of all names). The Northbound Leather shop is one block west, on St Nicholas Street. That’s where I bought my Muir cap and bomber jacket with spread collar.

Tom of Finland’s drawings present a rugged virility. Over the years, I have met many guys saying how they felt more confident, strong, and masculine while wearing leather. They are attracted, like me, to the “tough guy” image that leather projects. It did not take me long to discover the Black Eagle bar on Church Street. This adult venue with dark, industrial décor caters to the gay leather and denim communities. The first time I set foot inside, I was taken aback by the fucking arousing macho scene. One guy wearing leather chaps and jockstrap noticed my obvious interest:

“What you see is what you get.”

“I like the smell of leather and the musky scent of a man’s ass.”

“You’ve found the right guy. It’s the first time I see you around. My name is Terrence, can I offer you a drink?”

“Thanks, I like white wine. My name is Paul-François.”

“One beer for me, one glass of white wine for my friend”, he shouts to the waiter. “With a name like Paul-Fransoy, you must be from Québec”, he adds while putting a hand on my thigh.

“No, born, raised and educated in Ontario, just moved from Ottawa to Toronto”, I reply with a smile and a knee rubbing.

We sip our drink and let our hand venture towards each other’s crotch. As soon as I mention that I live just a few blocks away, Terrence invites himself. Entering bare ass into a gay bar sends a clear message. He wants to be fucked. As soon as we close my apartment door, he kisses me and says: “I know you are dying to eat my peachy hairy butt. I want you to spit on my hole and fuck me not only with your tongue. I want your dick hard and deep inside me.” I will be honest and tell you that I often loose my erection when I try to fuck a guy’s ass. But with his leather jockstrap and chaps, Terrence arouses me more than any other guy I’ve met so far. My dick “rises to the occasion” and stays firm for a good ten-minute pounding session.

Terrence wants to meet again at the Black Eagle: “I can introduce you to so-called straight friends who like to hide their true sexual orientation by dressing up in leather.” After a few evenings at the leather-denim bar, it seems to me that leather can feature the best parts of a man while helping to hide or make the less attractive parts. I’ll let you figure out what I am referring to by “best parts”. The less attractive features of some men include unchiseled chest, balding scalp, and a wider waistline. Leather obviously covers or distracts from those features.

Even if I know that Terrence is not looking for a relationship, I start dating him. “You arouse me. I like to play with you.” The feeling is damn mutual. Terrence likes how leather feels on his body and enjoys a guy worshiping this sensual roughness of the interior hide. I find the aroma of leather so intoxicating and moan with pleasure when I sniff his jockstrap. This time, Terrence wants a boot shine. I spit on his harness boots, lick them from the toe upward. “They won’t shine enough that way, he says. You need to use jizz. Let me give you a hand.” He massages my cock with his leather-gloved hand and that excites me to the highest degree. It doesn’t take long for me to explode and cover his boots with creamy cum. “Lick and shine, my friend, but keep some for a French kiss!”

During one of our manly encounters, I notice that Terrence has a pair of faded blue jeans on the back of a chair. I ask him to put them on and wear his chaps. His bubble butt is molded to perfection, leather and denim being an arousing combination. I can’t help but spank him, and the result is a wild moan of pleasure. I then bite his buttocks, adding that he can fart in my face if he wants; his anal aroma will certainly intoxicate me. On this occasion, I’m also wearing leather harness boots and tight faded blue jeans. We each sit at one end of the sofa, legs spread openly, each pressing a boot on the other’s crotch. I ask Terrence to lend me a pair of gloves because I want to jerk off while enjoying the raw leather sensation on my hard dick.

I mentioned that Terrence is aways wearing a leather jockstrap. It seems full and promising, but it hides a “less attractive feature” in the sense that he doesn’t get a full hard-on. No wonder he’s a leather bottom dude. I have a theory about leather: the longer the boots, the longer the hard-on. I suggest to Terrence that a pair of Embossy Engineer 18" Boots could trigger “firm” results. He buys it and gets hard but not for long. One of my friends has a pair of 19” Royal Canadian Mounted Police brown leather boots. I borrow them and Terrence feels fuckin hot wearing this vintage footwear; his hard-on improves tenfold. The next step is thigh-high boots, considered to be a symbol of power, authority and sex appeal. The result is fuckin hot: Terrence and I end up sucking each other non-stop for almost 15 minutes and flooding each other’s throat with a massive load of creamy white man juice.

Some men like Terrence and I have a strong fetish interest in leather. To us, leather is exciting, hot, fuckin arousing. For me, having sex with Terrence while he’s wearing leather is a more intense experience. I know that leather sex can tend towards BDSM, ranging from rough horseplay to sadomasochism. But that is not the case for us. And we don’t need drugs to enhance our libido. Leather gives us all the hyper masculinity and ruggedness we quench for.