Morning Rise #SinfulSunday #NSFW

I usually don’t wake up easily in the morning. Today, I woke up before him. The early sunlight is filling the room with the glare reflecting off the Hudson River. The air is crystal clear, not a cloud in the sky. White sheets covering the king-sized bed and a pile of fluffy pillows stashed behind me.

The end of our brief date is near. His enthusiasm had been infectious and I genuinely got swept up in it from the moment we met. As a younger man, his aspiration was to become a photographer. He was quite good at it, but never pursued his true passion. The pictures he kept were impressive. Mostly portraits, some more daring than others, all in black and white. He was an artist at heart, creative, full of energy, and with a fair amount of quirks. A few gray hairs only added to the eclectic mix.

Last night, we walked by a fetish boutique not far from the hotel he had booked. I was a frequent customer and he wanted to take a look around. This time, though, was different. His excitement, his creativity in combining traditional clothing with fetish items subtle enough to be worn in public, was irresistible. We left the store with a new pair of elegant black latex gloves, ‘opera gloves’, that reached well past my elbows. We were a good match and spent an evening full of laughter and pure joy.

I loved his fascination with shiny, black, glossy materials. He said it reminded him of the packaging for his undeveloped photographic paper. Thick plastic bags to prevent any daylight from ruining the precious content, his canvas. He kept the empty bags as material from which he designed miniature versions of intricate clothing. Even though they were no more than doll-sized, he enjoyed the way light reflected off the material and his designs. Completely black, yet with the texture so perfectly smooth, it was like a black mirror.

We went to a nearby expensive restaurant late in the evening. To him, that was all he had requested for our date. Just seeing one of his design ideas, latex combined with elegant clothing worn in public. That was his fetish, one I gladly embraced. He had never been able to find a women who would share his fetish, who didn’t consider it ‘weird’. That’s how he ended up with me; a fairly expensive escort.

He could finally go out with a confident woman who did not shy away from being noticed, living out the fetish he kept hidden inside for years. Apart from an elegant, black cocktail dress, a pair of black patent high heels, he only asked me to wear the new gloves. They had to be glossy. Eating was not easy and we had a good laugh over my troubles picking up small salt and pepper shakers with my slippery, latex-covered fingers.

Now I look at him. He is still deeply asleep; I am still wearing the gloves from last night. I pull the cover back, just a little. He sleeps without any briefs or boxers, just his well groomed, smooth cock and balls greet me. An early morning hard-on was still in the works. Seeing him rise, still asleep, and waking him with my personal greeting will be the perfect ending for our date.

He is still flaccid, but not for long. If his body reacts to my gloves the way his mind does, I can help him have the morning of a lifetime, even though he never asked for it. I reach for his fleshy cock, gently play with his piercing; one of his quirks. I can feel the blood streaming toward my hand, filling his ever growing cock.

Just a few more minutes of gentle stimulation. Keeping him asleep to make the surprise all the more pleasant. His cock grows, my hand can no longer fully reach around his shaft. I pull gently on his balls, they are plumb and firm, already rising up toward his base. The veins are visibly swelling, blood rushing through them building an amazing erection. The time has cum to wake him up with a quick handjob. He is loaded and ready to explode. I can’t help but catch some of his cum as it shoots toward me. He tastes salty. He wakes up and I burst out laughing. “Where were you when I needed some salt for dinner last night?”

Sinful Sunday

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