I've always been rather interested in designs of bra. If you've read my other stories, you'll know why and you may've met
me dressed in the TTT - twin torpedo tubes! Two separate tubes, carefully shaped, lined in soft lambskin, but firm enough to hold my
gorgeous enormous tits forward and up and out. And shiny black, matching the tight leather boot-suit that they are part of. When I
lie down on my front in this outfit, they hold me right up, and then when I lie on my back!!!!

And if you saw my outfit at the opera, you saw the Bristol Suspension Bridge bra - need I say more?

This story is set a little while ago, when I was still a poor student, and buying my first serious leather. I'd saved up a heap of
money and already paid half of it to the best corsetier I ever met. His name's Jules, and I'd met him quite by chance when I went into a
posh underwear shop in the most expensive part of the town. He'd taken one look at me in my T-shirt and jeans, and had come right up - a black guy, quite good looking, a bit camp - with a rather intriguing proposition. 'I'm a underclothing designer, and I have
been wanting for ever to make a Jane Russell bra for someone. You've got just the figure, and I've worked out the design!'

Well now, I'd been compared to Jane Russell before. She was a very well-equipped secretary at the works of the Hughes Aircraft Company in the sixties, and Howard Hughes, the big boss, had not only got her into films, he'd also got his engineers to design the Cantilever Bra to enhance her equipment even more. I think that there was more to it than that, but history doesn't tell. I may even be a bit better endowed than Jane - an inch or two.

Well, I'd been very tempted by this offer, and, to cut a longish story short, I had agreed to go back to his studio and be measured,
and I had pulled together some money by selling nearly everything, and a bit more, because he wanted quite a lot for the material, and for his time. We had agreed on black leather, and that hadn't helped the price at all.

So, there I was at Jules's studio with the rest of the money, getting ready to try on this super-bra. I was about to go on to a rather
special occasion, perhaps wearing it, if I could. I had an audition with a guy called Jack at a posh hotel, and he was going to get me
some work. My neighbour Anna, a gorgeous girl, had suggested this, 'Darling, with those tits, they can't keep their hands off you, so
why don't you make them work for you?' Well, this was pretty alarming stuff, but I thought a bit and decided to go for it, and
fixed this meeting.

Jules was waiting when I rang the bell, and produced a soft leather bra - but huge - for me to try on. I had a close look, and was
transfixed. The two cups which were going to come a bit more than half-way up my breasts were soft, enormous, but quite firm. They
also stood out firmly from the band that was to go round me. 'How do they do that, Jules?' I breathed. 'Trade secret, beautiful, you'll
have to take them apart to find out! Why don't you try it on?' So I took off my shirt and blue cloth bra, and pulled on the soft,
slightly clinging leather. Jules walked round me and with a firm tug, pulled the straps together as my tits rose into the air and my
cleavage seemed to fill half my field of view. I can't see my feet!

I felt myself, all over. Soft and slightly clinging feel, and firm and forthright - me right out front. I turned to face Jules, and
pressed myself, errect nipples first, into his chest. 'Just a minute, gorgeous, I've got something else - a little present from the
off-cuts!' and Jules held out a matching pair of leather shorts. Without, I'm afraid, a moment's modesty, I took off my jeans and
panties, and was standing a moment later in a black leather super-bikini. And, even more shameless, I started rubbing my leather
up and down Jules - no idea if my slightly camp mega-bra designer was gay or what - and a couple of instants later I had his shirt off,
then his jeans and his shorts, and got him firmly between my long thighs. If he's gay, he's not that gay! Before long we were sharing
a moment of extasy as we stood face to face - well, leather bra to bare chest to be exact - and worked our trim asses together, and
apart, and together again!

Oops - the time! I've come, now I've got to go. I borrowed Jules's bathroom for a quick wash between the legs and to clean up the
leather bikini shorts, which have somehow got a bit messy. Then I pulled on my stretch denim jeans and my denim shirt, and my short
leather boots with the spike heels, and finally short soft leather gloves that I forgot to say I'd had on all the time. I left Jules
the rest of the money and my old underwear to collect later, and a few moments later I was hailing a taxi, and trying to cover up a bit
with the denim shirt against the rather frequent glances from the driver. Soon we were at the hotel, and I made my way in at the
office entrance as agreed, and asked for Jack. Hang on a moment, love, I was told, so I took a couple of deep breaths, then exhaled
and did up the pop fasteners on my denim shirt. A moment later Jack had appeared and I followed him into a plush room, big leather sofas and divans all over, hardly daring to breathe.

When I had his full attention I stood straight, six foot one in my spiky boots, pushed my shoulders back and took a deep breath. I -
and he - was rewarded by a volley of pops as my denim shirt unfastened itself and my leather tits and deep deep cleavage pushed
through. 'Nice, baby' was his professional comment. Without further ado I unpopped the shirt at my slim waist, shrugged it off and got to work on him.

Now, my stretch denim jeans are the sort that are made to show off a bikini. Instead of a zip at the front, there's a criss-cross of
stretchy denim, which just, if you look closely (Jack did) lets you see the colour of the shorts underneath. I wriggled over to Jack on
a red leather divan and unzipped his fly. Not surprisingly he was already errect inside a cotton designer pouch, and I got him out of
it, and lay on top of him. Threading his shaft between the denim strips and back out again, I lay with most of my weight supported by
the cantilever bra and let its leather slide up and down his silk shirt.

After a few minutes of contact with denim and leather, Jack started to join in, panting with desire. Finally I felt pulsing against my
flat stomach as his cum sprayed me - all the way up to the bottom of the bra!

I let him rest for a moment before I untangled us, then I went over and poured us a couple of stiff drinks. I certainly needed one.
There was a small tray, so I put both glasses on it, and, head high, shoulders back, balanced it on my power-bulge and went over to offer Jack his glass. At the sight of me this his prick began to stir a bit, and I started to massage it, gently, with my spare leather-gloved hand.

Before we'd had too much alcohol I was holding something good, and firm, and big. I pushed him on to his back again and tried something else. Straight through the denim strips this time. And - this is where the master Jules had done his magic - straight through the shorts too! For Jules's design was a bit like the jeans - criss-cross strips of superfine leather with a sort of frame to hold
it all in place and made of I don't know what, and the leather so soft that it's a bit stretchy. Now I'm gripping Jack in three places
on his shaft, once by the denim which I'm pulling apart a bit, then between the fine soft leather strips of my shiny black bikini shorts,
and the third time - by me! He's now seriously errect and pressing upwards, into my denim-clad butt, almost weightless as I'm supported by my feet in their sexy short soft leather boots at one end, and by my supertits in their soft smooth leather mechanical masterpiece at the top. And we go on like this, and I come and shout at what seems to be the top of my voice, and because he's still working away, I come again and again...

'Well, Titania,' says Jack when we've finally subsided and he's gently massaging his very well-worked manhood and zipping up, 'I
think we can come to some arrangement, if you're interested. By the way, I loved the way you pretended to come!'

Titania! Wow - what a name - why didn't I think of it? Pretended to come? Whew!