" WHAT I WISHED I DID ON MY VACATION "
(Continuted...)
MY suit, I was thinking, I was already identifying with it! I wasn't
longing to get into it, but I was looking forward to seeing Ray in it, once
more. They were right, this was a turn on I didn't comprehend, but it was
a turn on, all the same. Just watching him gear up in that suit, in that
rubber gear that had held me a short time ago, made me grip the rubber
jock in my hand and instinctively raise it to my face. I wanted to smell
something, as well as see and hear.
Donny had removed his jeans, boots, socks, leaving only a pair of grey
jockeys, pouch full of his meat. He caught me looking and laughed: "Go
ahead, take a sniff, but I cleaned everything after last week. Go on, I
know what you're thinkin', like to grab that smell myself." I clapped the
rubber jock close against my face, and inhaled the contents. A heavy
rubbery smell, left over man scent, it warmed up in my hand against my
mouth and nose. I didn't feel strange, doing it, I felt at home and natural.
"See, different strokes for different folks," Donny continued, "but right
now, I got something better." He shook out a heavy, full rubber suit.
"This baby has been waitin' for me." He pulled off his jockey shorts,
revealing the same level of excitement we were all in, and sat down to
begin. I watched both he and Ray struggle with their rubber gear, and
realized that Donny's suit was different. At the crotch of his suit, there
was a rubber sheath for his cock and balls, and he had to work at stuffing
his already stiff equipment into it. When he succeeded, he let out a gasp,
and grinned in satisfaction. "Now I can feel where everything is, right
where it belongs. Give me a hand over here, Ray."
Ray took up a heavy rubber ring and stretched it out, guiding it to the
base of Donny's rubber cock and balls. Then he carefully let it tighten,
locking Donny's equipment in that rubber sack. He took up a heavy rubber
codpiece and snapped it in place, having to work against Donny's erection.
"Sorry," Ray said, "but you're supposed to grow into that thing."
Donny groaned: "No sweat, I wanted you to complete the job, but you're
right, I should have cooled off. I'm in this rig tighter than a sausage.
Must be the audience!" He laughed and both of them went on to finish up
with the top parts of their rubber suits.
Watching all this, I must have looked like a kid at his first circus. I
wanted to watch and I wanted to be in their places, at the same time. What
had I been missing? Where had I been?
I suddenly realized that Mitch was standing, next to me, at the foot of the
stairs. Both of us were observing the others, both of us had our hands at
our crotches, rubbing and thinking. Mitch turned to me and said: "Only one
thing beats watchin', and that's doin', are you game?" I just nodded,
heated up with the scene, not wanting to be left out of it, whatever it was.
"Let me make some choices, for you," Mitch asked, "I think I know what you
want, right now. Will you just let me move you into it, real easy like?"
I looked at him, and simply said "Yes, I want to, what do I do?"
"Let's make believe you're just trying on some gear, make believe I'm the
salesman," Mitch said, guiding me over to the other corner, "but first, I
have to look the part." He took up a gasmask off the floor and pulled it
over his head. "Now I'm gettin' into this," his muffled voice continued,
"and I have just the outfit you're looking for. But first, you'll have to
shed some duds." Without hesitation, I removed my pants and shirt, shoes
and socks, leaving only my trunks and T. "I'd recommend getting out of
those trunks , too," Mitch suggested, "my first selection doesn't need
them, sir." Down came the trunks, too.
Mitch was holding up the rubber jock I had dropped on the workbench. "Try
this on, for size, sir, I think you'll be satisfied with the fit." He had
stepped into the role of a salesman in a clothing store, and I tried to
match his mood. I worked the jock up over my crotch and started adjusting
the straps. I could see that the rubber cup fastened onto the harness of
straps with several large snaps. "Allow me," said Mitch, continuing the
part, "these can be tricky." He pulled on a pair of heavy rubber gloves,
then carefully worked my erection into the rubber cup. "Do you dress left
or right, sir? But it really won't matter." The touch of his hands was
welcome, not foreign, and I welcomed the manipulation, getting hotter by
the minute, making it difficult for Mitch to force my cock down. He
tightly buckled the straps around my hips, and finally the one between my
legs and in the crack of my ass. The feeling those straps provided, so
tight and binding around my thighs and ass, and the cup secured to them,
was unbelieveable, never thought it would be like this.
"That appears to fit you, very well," Mitch went on, finishing with a light
slap on my rubber cup, "Keeps you in place, nicely, sir. Now, I believe
these are what you were looking at, in the window," Mitch continued, "try
them on, next." He held up his heavy leather jeans, and gestured for me to
get them on. Holding them in my hands, I felt the weight of them, and
hurried to get into them. My bare skin could feel the rough texture,
inside, and the tight constriction on my calves and thighs. I had some
difficulty with the zipper, considering the jock, but completed the job.
Standing upright, I didn't think I'd be able to sit or squat in these, but
who cared?
I continued with his socks, and pulled on the calf-high boots. They were a
little large, but added an inch or two to my height. I wanted to walk and
stomp around in them, feeling the leather close to me.
Next, Mitch helped me into his leather jacket, and I could see why he had me
leave my T on. I was already working up a sweat, and the lining of the
jacket had already suffered too much, as it was. He carefully zipped the
sleeves over my wrists, and stood back. "The gentleman likes the fit of
the garments?" he asked. He stepped closer to me and ran his hands,
through the front of the jacket, over my chest, down my sides, around my
back, ending with one hand on my packed crotch, gently squeezing it!
I was breathing heavy, and as hard as I could get, facing south in that
rubber jock! The smell of the leather I was in, and the rubber Mitch was
in came close and heavy. Mitch's hands running over my body had added to
the excitement, and I couldn't resist doing what I did. I tentatively
reached out and grasped his shoulders, wanting to feel the rubber skin of
him. He nodded, and moved my hands down to his chest. I wanted to please
him, as he was pleasing me, and experimented. I massaged his pecs, and
even tried to find his nipples through the rubber, gently pinching them.
Mitch dropped his saleman's act and stiffened, at first, then moaned. I
continued down his chest and belly, finally at his crotch. I explored,
gently, until I had him in my hand, and, through the rubber, squeezed and
rolled his cock between the rubber and his skin. I was doing what I wanted
someone to do to me, not knowing any real methods, just wanting Mitch to
feel what I'd want to feel. It must have worked, because his head went
back and he gently began to rock against my hand, and I felt his breathing
increase, whistling though his mouthpiece.
The moment was broken by voices behind me. I had forgotten about Donny and
Ray! I had forgotten everything!
"Looks like we've got a real party goin' here," Donny laughed. "You sure
look OK in that leather gear, Joel, fits you great. Glad you decided to
join in the fun." Ray added: "Mitch doesn't look like he's missing
anything, either, have you guys ever met?" Both of them were completely in
their suits, now, hooded and gloved, and must have been watching our
action, because their hands were at their crotches, absently stroking and
easing their erections!
"Jealous, that's what you guys are," Mitch called to them, and started
zipping up my jacket, as though nothing had happened. "Joel looks good in
my gear, ‘cause I have great taste, and he knows it." He finished running
up the zipper, and handed me his helmet. "Finish up the job, I want to see
you lookin' just like me." I pulled on the helmet, and he nodded approval.
Ray strapped on his diving mask, and Donny pulled a gasmask over his hood.
There were now four of us, in the room, completely covered in our rubber
and leather gear, faces hidden and strangely silent. Mitch broke it by
saying: "All dressed up and no place to go! How about some action?" He
turned to me, again, and asked: "Come on, Joel, we almost had something
goin' there. Let's see what happens."
He pulled me away from the center of the room, and we went to an alcove, in
the corner. Walking and moving in Mitch's tight leathers gave me a feeling
of almost being someone else, someone different. I could feel the tight
packing of the jock, and the friction of his leathers across my skin, and
wanted to do something about it. What did Mitch have in mind? Was I ready
to join in their action? Yes, I could!
Mitch gestured to the heavy leather cuffs, I had worn earlier, lying on the
bench. He held out his wrists, and told me: "Strap ‘em on me, good and
tight, I want to feel them." I cuffed his wrists, and his ankles, and he
stepped back against the wall. "Hook ‘em up, here, go ahead, that's what
they're for." I could see several eye bolts, all over the wall, securely
screwed in the wall. I did, as he said, and when he placed his arms out
from his side, found two eye bolts just above wiast height and fastened the
cuffs to them. "Get my feet, too," he urged me, "hurry, this is startin'
to feel good." He spread his legs, and I squatted down to lock them on the
wall. The action of hunkering down forced my rubber jock into my crotch
and I stayed there, relishing the discomfort and the simultaneous pleasure
I experienced, gripping myself tightly.
"Now, forget your jock," Mitch growled, "for a minute, at least. Come up
here and imagine you're in my place, what turns you on?" I stood, eye to
eye to Mitch, reading his look through the lenses of his gasmask. I was
turned on by his helplessness, could imagine the feeling, could imagine
what I wanted. Is this how it works? Knowing that other guy, in front of
you, knowing what's going through his mind, wanting to see his reactions
and transfer your own? It's what I read in his eyes, and I felt I knew
what to do.
I grabbed my slacks and reached into the pocket, pulling out Ray's speedo,
still damp from the earlier activities. Standing in front of Mitch,
holding his attention, I managed to stuff it into the jock that held my
raging hard on. My precum had oozed, several times, and I massaged the
cloth against my cock and balls, feeling in control and enjoying it.
Mitch's rubber crotch was swollen and he he strained his hips, and I knew
what he was feeling, trying to gain more stimulation and feeling.
When I felt he was ready, I managed to retrieve the speedo, and went up to
Mitch. I pulled up his mask, and his sweaty face showed his open mouth and
gasping breath. "See if you like it, Mitch, it's worked wonders for me."
I stuffed Ray's (now our) speedo into his mouth, gagging his moans and
groans, holding the fabric close to his nose, then pulling down the mask
again. He tossed his head, trying to remove the gag, but couldn't. I knew
he was breathing in those same musky scents and experiencing the same
sensations I had.
Remembering his reactions earlier, I massaged his pecs through the rubber,
pinching and squeezing his nipples. He fought and resisted, trying to pull
away, but when I reached for his crotch, I knew it was working. His
erection was tight, upright against his belly, slick and throbbing in his
sweat and precum. I knelt down and ran my hands against his thighs,
working upwards towards his crotch. I carefully stayed away from that
thick rod, outlined in the rubber, and continued around his ass and his
legs, manipulating that rubber skin against his own.
His muffled words and groans were increasing, and I didn't know how long he
could hold out. I knew I wouldn't have been able to resist that long.
What would I want, now, I knew!
I pulled off the helmet, and rose to face him, again. I placed my mouth
over the metal inlet to his gasmask and breathed into it. "Hope you enjoy
this, Mitch, I'm new at it." His wild eyes glared at me, and he nodded,
urgently. I knew what he was feeling and I loved every minute of it.
I knelt back in front of his crotch, and gripped his pelvis and hips with
both hands. I set my mouth against the rubber, tasting it, smelling it,
getting high on it! I ran my tongue up and down his stiff cock, through
the rubber. I could feel his heat and swear I felt the blood pumping in
his skin, there. A few minutes of this torture, and Mitch began to tremble
and pump at my mouth. I carefully set my teeth around the head of his cock
and gently chewed that rubber lump. In less than a few seconds, Mitch
began humping and pumping so hard, I lost my grip, but I continued to mouth
his action, until he finally relaxed, and sagged against the wall.
I couldn't resist giving him a few more gropes, feeling his cock slide in
his cum and sweat. He groaned again, pushing the gag from his mouth, and
called out: "Enough, already, enough. God, that was great, oh god, was
that ever great!"
With all that action, I was amazed that I hadn't climaxed, too, but I had
been so intent on Mitch getting off, that I remained ramrod stiff, but
without going any further. It had been more fun, doing him, than myself!
Releasing him from the wall, I didn't know what to say. Mitch did, pulling
off his mask and grabbing the speedos, he stretched and said: "Ray found
himself a real performer, when he bumped into you, Joel. If you're new to
this, I certainly couldn't tell. That was the best ride I've had, in when
I can't remember." He pulled off his hood, showing a head slicked with
sweat. "Gonna remember that one, you can bet on it. I probably lost five
pounds while you were busy workin' me over, worth every one!"
"Didn't notice much action, for you," he continued, "but I was busy suckin'
on these briefs. How're you doing?" I just grinned, pleased with my
accomplishment, and tried to explain my feelings. "Knew it," Mitch jumped
in, "you got so busy with me, you forgot to take care of yourself. Let me
get my wind back, and we'll see about that."
My erection has dwindled, but still pressed against the jock. Now that
this action was familiar to me, I wanted to continue, and wanted to find
out more, and I wanted to get off! That look must have translated to
Mitch, because he moved ahead.
"Try out the Wall of Experiences," Mitch urged, "see what it feels like,
like I did. You might enjoy it." He cuffed my hands and ankles, as I had
done with him, clipping them to the wall, just as he had been. The
restraint wasn't overpowering, but I knew I couldn't move from the spot,
and that someone else had to do it. It was frightening and exhilarating at
the same time.
Mitch left me there, while he proceeded to pull off his rubber suit. It
was so tight on him, that only the sweat allowed him to exit. Then, he
found a pair of rubber shorts and pulled them up to his waist. I could see
he was excited, but didn't know whether he was coming up or going down! He
arranged himself in the shorts, then reached down and found the speedos I
had used. He picked up the empty rubber suit and reached down into the
crotch, wiping it out with the material.
"You must have milked me for a pint of cum, back there. This suit's filled
with it." Mitch grinned and continued mopping. "Good thing I had this
rag." He finished, dropped the suit, and approached me. "This worked,
before, for you, you said. Well, it worked for me, too. Just added to the
mix."
I knew what was coming, didn't want it, did want it, didn't want,
did...didn't...did.
Mitch stopped my words by holding my nose, and stuffing the speedos in my
mouth. Once again, I tasted and smelled the combination of all our bodies,
turned on, painfully erect in my jock, pulling and tugging at the restraints.
"Slow down," Mitch called to me, "easy, the best is yet to come. Let me
get this helmet on you, so you don't bang your head." He pulled the
motorcyle helmet over my head and snapped the visor shut. "Now let's see
what Mitch can do, to top your act."
He grabbed his gasmask, pulling it on, then found a corrugated hose in the
duffel bag. Attaching it to the inlet of the mask, he walked up to me.
"How's my boy doin'," he pressed the mask up to my helmet, "what turns him
on, eh?" I gasped through my gag, and could only think of my cock,
pounding and twisted in the rubber covering my crotch. Could I come like
that, how would it feel, what would happen?
He unzipped my jacket and gave my nipples and chest the same workover I had
provided. The stimulus drove me wild, feeling his hands and fingers stroke
and pinch me. The gag in my mouth provided even more sensory stimulus.
He reached down my belly and forced his hand into the rubber jock
at my crotch. I was going crazy, just as he had, gagged and moaning with
pleasure and pain. I wouldn't be able to hold out!
"Oh, you can hold on," Mitch said, almost reading my mind, "don't want to
miss the next one, do you?" He unbuckled my leather jeans, and they opened
around my hips. He pressed and massaged the rubber cup, and I continued to
fight it and welcome it. I looked down and realized that Mitch was
removing the rubber cup, unsnapping it slowly and carefully. When he
finally pulled it off me, my cock sprang up and I gasped with relief.
"Feelin' a little better?" Mitch chuckled, "Your cock looks like it was
ready to break out, on its own. It deserves some tender, lovin' care."
Mitch carefully lowered the end of the corrugated hose over my swollen
member. I could feel the hose touching the sensitive skin, and found it
even more stimulating than his hand. "Good thing you're not too big,"
Mitch mumbled, "I wouldn't be able to breathe. Just big enough and gettin'
better."
He returned to face me, eyes locked onto mine, once again groping my chest
and pinching my nipples, now sucking harder and harder in his rubber mask.
My cock was caught in his airway and being sucked upwards with each breath
he dragged in. It jumped and throbbed, and I knew I was close. Mitch knew
it, too, and reached down, taking hold of my ball sac. Tugging gently, he
paced me until I could wait no longer.
I pushed against his hand, trying to force my cock up that hose, wanting to
fill his mask with my cum. I pumped and pumped, and finally slowed down,
after what seemed minutes of exstacy. I was drenched with sweat, drawing
air through my nose in gasping waves, finally leaning back against the
wall, weak and quivering all over.
Mitch carefully pulled my cock out of his hose, it twitched and jumped and
so did I. "Almost wanted to do myself again, with that smell of fresh cum
in my mask. Real fine smell, works all the time." He flipped up the visor
on my helmet, reached in, patted my cheek, and pulled the gag from my
mouth. He carefully wiped my cock dry with it, and then the drip from the
hose. Taking off his mask, he held those speedos up in front of me, and
said: "Nice souvenir, these'd make. Be sure to take ‘em home with you."
"Hope you don't mind," Ray called over to me, "I've got a thing for this
suit, all of a sudden." He had retrieved the suit I had removed and left
over the bench. "Still have to check it over, haven't gotten around to it.
When I started out, this morning, I never thought it'd be still warm, but
it is!" He stripped off his shorts and began getting into my suit.
To be continued...
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