She was a zit, a swollen, white headed bubble ready to burst and squirt whenever he decided to pinch her in that very special way. Not necessarily painful, nor unsightly if you are into that sort of thing. Bright red at the edges and white in the center, she'd personify that zit wearing red latex and lace over her pale, pale flesh.
Like any zit, he harbored her in darkness, a single room, a bed and a chair where she would sit for hours preparing herself for him. He called her out into the light only when he washed the fetid odor of the day from his body, the stink of his sweaty crotch, the rot of his armpits and the stench of his ass. In the steamy bathroom, after his shower, he stared into the mirror, focusing on that single spot, the red skin surrounding the white pustule. Running his fingernails along the rough scratch of his beard he centered on that pale white, squeezing it until it popped, spurting the gooey spunk onto the mirror.
Smiling, he called her then, "Zit, come here please."
He didn't have to wait, she always knew when to appear, her pale white face encircled in the bright red hair. Each white breast peeked from red latex, the nipples, slightly darker, but still pale against the bright red. Stepping into the fading steam, she sat on the edge of the bathtub, her legs crossed at the knees and waited.
Coating his face with shaving cream, he watched her, her legs crossed tightly, her thighs tightening and relaxing as she prepared. Scraping the razor over his cheek and then down around his jaw he could see her cheeks flush a bit as she worked herself to the edge. After shaving, he took a towel, wiped his face and then tossed it to the floor at her feet.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Gasping a bit, she nodded. Slowly she opened her legs, using her feet to position the towel on the floor, she then spread her legs wide open. Resting her hands on the bathtub she stared intently, waiting.
Satisfied she was ready, he walked over, sat down on the toilet and moved his hand down between her legs. Sliding his fingers through the red, curly hair, he slowly closed in on the swollen, pale white nub. Holding the nub between his index finger and thumb, he gently squeezed.
With his first squeeze he felt her body stiffen and her breath quickened some. Releasing the pressure, he paused a moment and then squeezed again. He heard the first hint of a whimper as he squeezed the white clit again. Pausing again, he stared at her face, but her eyes were closed, her head turned slightly away (no zit ever dared to glare back at their master).
Suddenly, she lifted her ass from the tub, arched her back and came, spurting a clear liquid from between her lips splashing onto the towel at her feet. He continued touching the nub until the waves in her body appeared to subside, he then pulled his hand away, lightly touched his fingers to his tongue. He then stood up and waited as she reached up and ran her fingers along his erection.
Watching her, he let her begin pumping his shaft with her hands until a few droplets of pre-cum accumulated in the tiny hole. He nodded and she leaned forward, touching the tip of her tongue to the pool of clear fluid. Drawing away, a thin strand glistened for a moment and then disappeared.
"I have a date tonight," he said as her eyes begged permission to take him into her mouth. She nodded and relaxed back down on the edge of the tub, perhaps disappointed, but fully understanding, for she is a zit, and zits are hidden from one so important to be called a date. "Don't worry," he said, gently holding her chin in his right hand, "one day soon I'll be close enough to her to let her seem my zit. Perhaps I'll let her pop it then."
Her bittersweet smile might speak of her intense longing, her yearning to please him, not just as he showers and shaves, but always. The smile might hint at the immense pleasure she could give him, if only...
"Okay, we're finished now," he says as he turns and heads to his closet. The light flashes on as he searches through his suits.
If only she were something more than just a zit.