Pain, Pleasure, and Pink Leather

He bought the gloves for her one night after a scrumptious dinner at a Thai restaurant. Walking along Main Street they impulsively stopped in a thrift store, open late. Earlier conversation touched upon leather gloves. He loved them. He loved all things leather.
“Can I help you find anything?” The salesgirl approached as soon as they came through the door.

“We’re just looking for one thing, leather gloves.” She smiled at him when she said it.

“Well if we have any, they would be over there.” The salesgirl gestured to a display against the wall. And there they were. The sheer improbability of them made it all the more fun to see the shocking pink fingers peeking out from behind the rest.
She pulled them out from the pile and slipped them on. They fit snugly; her hands were not small. Elbow length. They fit well. The leather was smooth and the gloves were lined. Despite the garish color they spoke of quality. The tag said $6.

“What do you think?” He stared at the gloves on her hands as she held them up, examining them, flexing her fingers. He envisioned them around his cock.

“Well, they fit. And they’re nice. But…pink.” She demurred. Not her favorite color.

“Six bucks!” He countered.