A latex girl thing

In this close, he could smell her latex perfume. He soaked her in; along with the body suit she wore a tight leather, neck-collared dress; a thin leather that stretched over what appeared to be pierced nipples. Her crossed latex legs revealed high thigh leather long boots with fuck-me pumps. She fingered what he thought was a crucifix attached on the D-ring of her collar; it was not a Catholic cross with Jesus but a naked woman spread eagled and crucified on a St. Andrew’s cross.

“Oh wow, cool,” he mumbled. He then remembered himself and looked into her very dark eyes. Those eyes were shaped like she was Asian. She sported a tiny nose ring, and a stud on the side of each nostril. “Oh. Hi. Rusty. My name is Rusty.”

She let her wet, black lips stretch into a smile and she measured him from casual shoes to crisp pants to buttoned shirt and straighten tie. Rusty was tall, lean, and may not have looked like a pervert, but he enjoyed fucking like one. She leaned against the bar and said, “I’m whoever you want to call me, Master.”