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Chapter 1 – Discovery and Exploration
My name is Katharine, or Katie. I’m 26, live in London and work in advertising. What I am about to describe is a tumultuous period of just a few months earlier this year during which my life turned in a completely new direction and an established friendship grew in an unexpected and exciting way.
I own a rather nice apartment next to the river with views across the water to Battersea Park on the other bank. I originally bought the apartment with a former boyfriend. Unfortunately, the relationship didn’t last and when he left I had to buy him out of his share of the flat as I didn’t want to lose it. With a larger mortgage and a spare bedroom, I thought that a good way to offset the additional cost was to rent out the room and find a flat mate. This is where Jenny came in.
Jenny is a friend of a friend of my sister and heard about my spare room through her. She is a journalist and had just moved back to London after a couple of years in Bristol to start a new job. She needed to find somewhere fast without searching too hard and I needed to find someone quickly to help pay the mortgage. We met one evening after work in a noisy pub in Soho and immediately got on. I offered her the room and she moved in a few days later.
For two or three months nothing unusual happened. We were both busy with our jobs and would often hang out in the evening with a group of friends in a local bar. We also both get invited out on any number of dates, so the evenings when we were actually at home were fairly rare. On those occasions we would often watch TV or a rented DVD together, share a bottle of wine or just talk.
Jenny and I are quiet similar in build – both size 10s – although her boobs are slightly smaller than mine, and she’s about an inch taller. Our fashion tastes are also reasonably close and we often borrow one another’s clothes to supplement our own already extensive wardrobes. One of my few bones of contention with Jenny is that she sometimes borrows clothes without asking. She is also very untidy. Her room often resembles the scene of a burglary with clothes dumped in piles on the floor; shoes kicked into odd corners and with possessions left in general disarray. These character traits were to lead me in a totally new and unexpected direction.
It was the night before a major advertising awards dinner that was to be held at the Grosvenor House Hotel in the West End. Like all aspiring agencies aiming to make an impression in the market, the firm I work for had booked a table. I was scheduled, with a couple of colleagues, to host a number of clients for a gala meal with the hope that my firm might collect an award, or at least drum up some new business from the clients. I would be going straight from the office to the dinner and needed to take my evening wear into work with me the following morning ready to change after work.
Jenny and I had spent the previous Saturday shopping in Knightsbridge and I had bought a fantastic Balenciaga dress from Harvey Nichols – very short, in see-through cream chiffon with long sleeves, a round neck and worn over a dark body. I hadn’t worn it out yet but we both agreed that I looked wonderful in it. I had a Fendi bag and a pair of pumps that I had bought on a New York business trip and I was hoping like hell that we would win an award because I knew that I was going to knock ’em dead if I got on the stage in that get up.
Jenny was out so decided to get everything ready and have a relaxing bath and an early night. I wanted to ensure maximum energy for the long evening coming the next day. I went to my wardrobe with my dress bag and found the shoes and handbag where I had left them but no dress. I checked the floor of the wardrobe to see if the hanger had fallen off the rail – no dress. I knew where I had left it and it clearly was not there but I remembered how much Jenny had liked it and started to suspect that she had borrowed it without asking. Feeling angry and vowing to give her a major ticking off when I saw her I walked across the hallway to Jenny’s disaster-scene bedroom.
Jenny’s room was in its usual state of disarray. A tee-shirt hung from the end of the bed and her exercise gear lay in a crumpled heap like a shed skin where she had peeled the leggings and leotard off as one piece. Her trainers were kicked half under the bed and a large baggy jumper topped a heap of clothes dumped on the rocking chair in the corner of the room.
Inside the wardrobe, the scene was little better. I searched through the rails of clothes but could not find my Balenciaga dress. I started on the junk piled at the bottom of the wardrobe, praying that she hadn’t let it get too creased there, but searched with no success. Deciding that she must actually be wearing my new dress, I was closing the doors when I noticed a black travel case pushed to the side of the wardrobe. It was one of those bags with built-in hangers for clothes and a collection of pockets and pouches for small items and shoes. I pulled it out hoping it might contain my kartal escort dress and laid it on to the bed. I slammed the wardrobe doors making the mirrors rattle.
For its size the bag was very heavy. I pulled the zip round its U-shaped track and was immediately hit by the strange smell coming from inside. On top of the bag’s contents as it lay on the bed was a short black dress made from rubber. I removed the rubber dress carefully as it was dusted with talcum powder and placed it on the bed. There were more items beneath and so I slowly examined the bag. Each item was separated from the next by a sheet or two of tissue paper and I separated the layers as I removed the remaining items. Eventually, arrayed on the bed, I had the black dress and a similar blue one, a red skirt and red sleeveless vest, a black leotard-like thing and a black catsuit.
In the pockets of the bag I found, dusted in more powder and rolled or folded in tissue, a black bikini set, three long pairs of rubber gloves, two pairs in black and one in red; and two pairs of stockings, a pair each of red and black. This was quite a collection and quite surprising. Jenny had never mentioned that she had even a single rubber dress and a collection of this size was bordering on the kinky. Jenny obviously had a secret side.
My sister had once both worn rubber dress to a party as a dare and her tightly encased rubber body had very definitely been the centre of attention for the male guests and a few of the female. I had always wanted to get a dress for myself but had been too cowardly to visit the sort of specialist shops that sold them. Looking at the selection in front of me and feeling cross at Jenny for borrowing my dress I was very tempted to try something on.
I hesitated over what I should do about my discovery, I even started to replace the items but in the end, after a brief internal struggle which revolved mostly around fears of being found out, my curiosity to know what it felt like to be dressed in the rubber clothes got the better of me.
Feeling like a naughty schoolgirl, I kicked my shoes into the corner and removed my jacket and skirt. Next, I unbuttoned my blouse, dropping it on to the floor amongst the discarded tissue paper. I sat on the bed and quickly dragged my tights down my legs and dropped them on the floor as well. I unhooked my bra and slid out of my knickers. These also ended up on the floor.
For a moment, I surveyed my body in the mirrored door of Jenny’s wardrobe; nice boobs, good legs and clear skin – although I could do with topping up my tan, I noted. I sat again on the edge of the bed. As they were the simplest things to put on, I chose the bikini and the red top and skirt. I picked up the bikini top first and it initially seemed too small even for Jenny’s slightly smaller chest. I put my arms through the appropriate holes then pulled it over my head. It was small, but the rubber was stretchy so I was able to tug it down over my shoulders and across my chest. It clung tightly to my breasts cupping them in a sensual grip. My breasts stood out full and firm with a deep cleavage that not even my wonderbra had managed to achieve. Admiring the effect, I stepped into the bikini panties and pulled those up. These too were on the small side and I had to stretch them outwards to pull them up. They were high cut briefs – basically a thong – and the feeling as the cold latex squeezed against my mound was electric. My nipples harden instantly and quickly felt myself becoming arosed between my thighs as well. I had never had a sexual reaction to clothing before and had always thought it odd that people could. But this was a powerful response and as the rubber warmed from my body heat, I knew that this was somthing special that I wanted to experience futher.
Instead of the skirt and top, I decided that I wanted to try on the catsuit and I selected a pair of the long gloves to go with it. I examined the suit and found that it had integral feet and sleeves to the wrists. There was a zip down the rear from the neck to the small of the back. I pulled this down and folded the body part down before putting my left leg in and pushing it down into the leg of the suit.
The rubber of the suit was quite thick but it was flexible. However, as my foot went further into the foot of the suit the friction of the latex began to catch and drag on the skin of my calf and shin. Eventually, with a lot of tugging and wiggling, I managed to get my toes to the end of the suit’s foot. I adjusted the position of the heel and smoothed out wrinkles in the latex up to my knee, relishing the sensation of confinement as my toes and ankle were gripped by the rubber.
Remembering something my sister had told me about about getting into her rubber dress, I decided to rub myself with some of the talc from Jenny’s dressing table to assist with getting the catsuit on. So I patted liberal amounts of the scented powder over my body giving particular attention to the stomach and between my legs where I was beginning to perspire. I pulled maltepe escort bayan the other leg easily over my right foot and up to the knee before standing. The cat suit hung in lose, heavy folds around my lower legs making it difficult to stand and balance. Gradually I rolled and wriggled the suit up my legs, over my thighs, tugging and smoothing as I went. It was quickly up to my crotch. The suit was now tightly gathered around the base of my bottom and to get it further, I bent my body forward sticking out my backside and pulled sharply on each side of the suit. The latex snapped over my hips and pulled tautly around my buttocks, thighs and up between my legs. The catsuit held each check of my backside in a tight grip and I squirmed against the double layer of rubber against my vagina where things were beginning to feel very hot and moist. The arms of the suit hung loose on each side like two fat animated tails, bouncing as I straighten up.
My whole lower body from toe to waist was now alive with heightened sensations. Nerve endings in the sensitive areas at the backs of my knees, between my legs and along the junction of my thighs and belly were going into overdrive. The feeling as the latex layers between my thighs rubbed together was wonderful. I walked back to the mirror and admired the view, gently running my hands over the rapidly warming material covering my thighs and backside. Inside the suit my vagina was open, kissing wetly against the latex.
The intensity and speed of my arousal astonished me. I’m not a prude by any means and have enjoyed some very good sex in the past, but the sensations that I was experiencing now were totally new to me and in an altogether different class. Feeling an intoxicating mixture of giddiness and guilt, I watched my mirror image as it ran a thumb up between its legs gently pushing the rubber into my opening. I could feel my clitoris throbbing within and deep inside my belly was the beginning of the swelling of energy that is an early precursor to my orgasm. I found that there was a small fold in the suit between my legs, held closed with a strip of Velcro. There was a similar one at the back. Although I don’t often masturbate, I had a powerful urge to rip back the flap and plunge a finger deep into my pussy; however, I held back and instead returned to sit on the bed to pull on the rest of the suit.
I was now glistening with perspiration and gave myself another dusting of talc before I continued. I reached forward and pulled the suit further up my body until it was just under the ledge of my breasts. My usually small nipples were swollen hard inside the rubber of the bikini top but before I could give them the attention they demanded I had to get my arms into the sleeves. Forming the fingers of my right hand into a point, I plunged it into the armhole and pushed-twisted it through the tube until my fingers popped out of the end. I repeated that with the left arm and smoothed the wrinkles out as I worked the latex up my arm and finally, with another tug, over the shoulder.
The catsuit was now stretched around most of my torso. The taut black skin was gently squeezing my stomach and it was becoming more difficult to pull the latex about. Each movement I made was limited by the pressure of the rubber and caused a reciprocal tug somewhere else. Fortunately. I’m pretty flexible, because to get my right shoulder into the suit, I had to lie on my front and reach around from the back with my left arm. Taking hold of the edge of the black material and rolling my shoulder downwards and forward as I pulled the latex upwards and out. It worked and I was finally inside. I dragged and tugged the zip up the back and locked it in place with a little clip provided to stop it pulling open. Finally to finish off my latex ensemble I set about putting on the gloves.
Turning them almost inside out, I tapped some talc into each of the hand sections of the gloves before putting on the first one. I then slowly unrolled the tube up my arm until it came to a finish half way between my elbow and my shoulder. I repeated the exercise with the other glove and then laced my fingers together to even out the wrinkles. I was now almost completely covered in tight latex; only my head and neck were clear.
Rolling off the bed, I retrieved a pair of Jenny’s patent leather high-heels from the bottom of the wardrobe and, with a bit of difficulty because of my rubber covered fingers, strapped them on.
I went back to the bag for a can of spray polish and a polishing cloth I had seen in one of the pockets. I sprayed a small amount of the liquid on to the cloth. Starting with my right arm, I gently smoothed the cloth over the suit. Immediately a brilliant shine appeared on the previously matt surface. Gradually, I worked over the whole suit, arms, feet, legs and body, lingering a little over my breasts and between my thighs.
To check the effect and to see if I had missed any spots I went back and stood in front of the mirror. What I saw made me gasp. Although it had only taken escort pendik thirty minutes or so to get into the suit, the difference between the “innocent” advertising executive who had entered the room and the rubber clad figure that looked back at me was immense.
My body is pretty good, although far from perfect, but in the tight-fitting cat suit everything was accentuated to maximum advantage. My legs, with the high heels on and the calf and thigh muscles sculpted by the rubber seemed to be longer and more slender. My neatly bobbed hair was in total disarray from my exertions and my usually pale complexion was livid with arousal. I looked as if I had just completed a marathon all-night session with a young and vigorous stud. Coincidentally, in my aroused condition, that’s exactly what my vagina was telling me it needed.
Although supple the suit was very tight and there were only a few wrinkles to straighten out. Now that my body had warmed the latex, it felt like a second skin, flexing with, but resisting, every move I made. My whole body was now tingling as if it had been vigorously scrubbed with a stiff loofah, I needed to release this sexual tension somehow but first I needed to tidy up the mess I had made, Jenny would be home later and whilst she wasn’t the tidiest of people she would certainly spot something was amiss if her rubber gear was all over her bedroom.
I carefully replaced the other items one by one back in the bag. It was then that I found a small black fabric bag that I had missed on my first inspection. The bag had a drawstring and, loosening this, I extracted another piece of latex. It was like a small bag itself. I turned it over and then realised what it was – a rubber hood. It had holes for the eyes with just a small hole for the mouth and two tiny slits for the nostrils. I had to try it, and quickly stretched the opening wide to pull it over my face and head. It was like dragging on a childhood swim-hat – pulling upwards and backwards to keep the hair off of the face – but far more sexually charged. To me, this was a fantastic sensation, the latex clung tightly to my checks, nose and forehead, pulling my jaw shut as it gripped around my chin. The feeling of enclosure was accentuated by the reduction of hearing caused by the latex membrane stretched across my ears, flattening them against the sides of my head. I adjusted the fitting of the hood so that the openings were in the right places and flexed my jaw to settle everything in position. The hood had a ring of press-studs around the neck which corresponded to others around the neck of the suit. I used the mirror to help me clip the studs together and then I was fully sealed in rubber just my blue eyes and red lips visible through the holes in the black latex.
My mound felt like it was going to erupt, I was already feeling the preliminary throbs of an approaching orgasm and I hadn’t even touched myself yet! Which was why, when I saw the next item out of the bag, my mouth, had it not been restrained by the tightness of the hood, would have dropped open in surprise. It was a huge dildo. It was about eighteen inches long and double-ended; made of a purple transparent jelly-like substance. It was very flexible; simultaneously firm and yielding and very like a real penis in texture if not in appearance. Each end was moulded with the enormous head of a realistic looking phallus. Things were getting very kinky indeed!
My mind began to spin with questions.
Why did Jenny have one of these? Surely only lesbians used them! Could Jenny be a lesbian?
No – she wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment but I had met her last boyfriend, Mark. But was he really a boyfriend?
Thoughts raced around my head.
Maybe my flat-mate was bisexual!
It had never previously occurred to me that she could be a lesbian or bi-girl. The implications were very interesting.
Like many women, I had sometimes caught myself looking appreciatively at another woman and wondering what it might be like to be with a girl rather than a boy. For a while in my teens I had had an un-consummated crush on a girl in my class at school but it had never come to anything and I doubt that at that age, I would have known what to do if something had happened. Very occasionally since school these thoughts had crept into my head but with a satisfying heterosexual love life, I had never had the inclination or the courage to step off the beaten track and pursue a physical intimacy with another woman. Now, however, in my already aroused condition, the thought of my friend using the thing resting in the palm of my hand with another woman turned me on immensely. I was going to have to do some investigating.
Not now though. Now I needed to do some investigating of a much more personal and intimate kind and the dildo was just the tool that I needed to help me with that.
I hung the main bag back in the wardrobe, picked up my discarded clothes and shoes and, feeling totally conspicuous in the black rubber costume, took these and the dildo bag back through the lounge to my own room. I quickly dumped my clothes in the laundry basket and tossed my shoes in the wardrobe. I fell on the bed gasping and for a moment I lay still, enjoying the feeling of the all-over rubber against my skin. Then I sat up and set to work.
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