Lust in Latex

by Rachel Bussel

  He came forward, slid his fingertips under the red rubber band on top, snapped once, and I shuddered. “Windows go two ways,” he said. “You know?”

  My eyes couldn’t have gotten larger. I just stared at him.

  “I’ve seen you watching, in your little blue Prius. You stare at me when I’m changing the displays. The rubber ones, right?”

  Oh, God. I needed to get out, to leave quickly. My heart was pounding. Thanks for the coffee was on my lips, but he stopped me.

  “Don’t worry, Casey.”

  “How’d you know my name?” I was stammering.

  “I came out of the store as soon as you had the accident, and I heard you when you were exchanging information.”

  I’d been so consumed by what I’d done that I hadn’t even noticed him. My eyes roamed the room. I felt panicky and I put my hand out, intending to rest my palm on the back of the nearest chair, but as I did so, he reached for my hand instead. Reached and held. He smiled, and I realized now that his dark eyes weren’t brown, but the deepest purple-tinted blue. “Jarred,” he said, touching his chest, and then adding, “I’ve got something to show you.”

  Etchings, I thought wildly. He’s going to show me his etchings, isn’t that what men are always showing women? And then I laughed, because this was all so surreal. On the one day when I managed to avoid traffic, I had wound up in an accident. On the one day when I had finally assured myself that I was over this need, this craving, I had wound up in the center of my own fetish-filled universe. Because where Jarred was leading me was the window. The window with the mannequin, still half-dressed, her hard body smooth and pale beneath the hot lights, showing no signs of modesty at all.

  “This is what you like, right?”

  He peeled the dress the rest of the way off her, working it free from her body. I heard that sticky, sucking sound of rubber being pulled from plastic, and I thought I might come right then.

  “Most people can’t wear orange, but I know you can.”

  What did he want me to do? What was he suggesting?

  He held the dress out to me, and I shook my head, legs quavering.

  “People will see.”

  “Yes,” he said, as if he didn’t understand why that would be a problem. No, as if it weren’t a problem at all.

  I took the dress with trembling hands. The rubber was warm from being under the lights. The orange was more peach than traffic-cone neon. He was right. The color would work for me, with my gold-brown hair, light-brown eyes, tanned skin. But how would I put it on? Where?

  Jarred seemed to be waiting for me, and then he snapped his fingers. “Wait.”

  He hurried from the window, and I was left to stand there, totally still, like the naked mannequin at my side. I saw the traffic coasting by from Jarred’s point of view, and I realized that I had been as on display to him as he had been to me. There were mirrors in the window. He would have seen my reflection, or turned to look when I hadn’t noticed, when I’d been captivated by the clothes and accessories rather than the man in charge.

  That man stepped back into the window now, with a shaker in his hand. “Cornstarch,” he said, and I nodded, knowing what to do. What he wanted. And yet…

  “I’ll block you,” he said, stepping in front of my body, facing away. I took a deep breath. I thought about the box of rubber gloves next to my bed, thought about the routine I went through every single night. Then, quickly, I peeled off my jacket and unzipped my navy blue dress. I wasn’t wearing stockings, just a bra and panties in a neutral beige, easy to remove. I shook a bit of the cornstarch on my palms and spread it over my body, growing more confident somehow with that little shake of fairy dust, and then I lifted the dress and slowly began to slide it up.

  The rubber gave, moving over my curves, fitting itself instantly to my body. I pulled it, tugged the arm straps open so I could slide my arms through one at a time—a full-size Barbie in rubber fetish gear.

  Jarred seemed to know the precise moment to turn back around. Just as I stepped back into my black pumps, he faced me, and I saw the light in his eyes as he admired the rubber dress now shielding my naked skin.

  He came forward then, putting his arms around me, kissing me softly on the lips, then on the neck, then bending on his knees to kiss me through the rubber of the dress. I put my hands on his shoulders to keep myself steady. My eyes were wide open, and I stared out the window as his lips met my pussy sheathed in that supple rubber. I saw a blur out the window, heard the squeal of tires as a passing car slammed to a stop, heard the crumple of metal as the car behind failed to put on the brakes in time.

  “Rubberneckers,” Jarred said softly.

  I nodded, as my mind stretched the word taut and found the term fit just right.

  SLICKER THAN SLIK

  Radclyffe

  I promise it won’t hurt, baby,” Tina said as she leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, her hips cocked and a razor dangling seductively between her fingers. It helped that she didn’t have any clothes on, but not all that much. If I could have kept my attention on her tits, round and firm and just right for squeezing, or her sleek belly and high tight ass, I would have been fine. But the little steel blades of the razor glinted and I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

  “I’ll suck you off when we’re done,” she coaxed.

  “You better do more than that,” I muttered. I did not shave my cunt. That was a girl thing. Trim, maybe, sure. Tina liked it when I trimmed. She said it was easier to find my clit, and believe me, anything that got her hot mouth cinched around my stiff clit worked for me. She gives the best head of any femme I’ve ever met.

  “And after that, I’ve got a surprise for you.” Tina showed me a tiny bit of tongue.

  “If it involves you strapping it on and fucking me, forget it.” But I was grinning, too. She’d been wanting to flip me forever, and to tell you the truth, the idea had its appeal. Whenever I let her top me she got this intense look on her face, like every move was the most important thing she’d ever done. When she pushed her fingers inside me, her eyes got big, like she’d just discovered the secret to the universe. And when she made me come, as much of her hand crammed into me as she could get and her thumb beating my hard-on and me yelling my head off, she’d laugh out loud as if she’d just been given the best present of her life. So let’s just say I could be persuaded. Pretty easily. But she didn’t need to know that.

  “What sort of surprise?” I was still playing unconvinced.

  “As soon as we finish, I’ll show you,” Tina said. “I’ve got this incredibly cool outfit for you to wear to the party.”

  “Explain why that requires shaving.” I crossed my arms and pretended to resist. The fact is, anything she wants from me, she gets. And not just because of the sex, but that’s another story.

  “You’ll see. Come on, Dannie, you promised I could dress you up for my birthday.”

  Yeah, sure I promised, when she had her little finger tickling the inside of my asshole and her tongue making fast figure eights around the head of my clit. I’d needed to come so bad I’d have agreed to march down Market Street in a frilly apron and nothing else at that point. I sighed.

  “Okay, but be careful. No nicks. And, Jesus, watch my clit.”

  She perched me on the edge of the tub and lathered me up with warm water and shaving cream, and she was careful. The biggest problem was that she couldn’t shave me without touching me—stretching my lips out to get in the crevices, pressing down on my shaft to get that little cleft right at the base, and generally tugging and pushing and pulling all the parts that are hot-wired right to my clit. By the time she was done washing the soap off and patting me dry, my cunt was smooth and my clit stood straight up like a fat, red thumb.

  “Suck it, baby,” I whispered, looking down as she knelt on the floor between my spread legs, her face just inches from my crotch.

  She smiled sweetly, pursed her lips, and sucked my clit all the way in to the root. My legs shot out straight
when the tip of her tongue poked underneath the hood. I mumbled a lot of “Lick,” “Suck,” “Oh, Jesus, that’s good,” and “Please, baby, do me there,” while trying not to come. Watching her suck on my clit like it was a Tootsie Pop usually makes me shoot off right away, and I was already making those girlie sounds I can’t help making when I’m about to come. She was stretching it out like plump taffy, her red lips sliding around the purple head, tugging at the crown with her teeth, and I felt the tight coiling in my cunt break loose and whisper down along my thighs. My clit went rock hard like it does just before it hops and pops.

  “Ooo, I’m gonna shoot,” I whined.

  My clit flew out of her mouth a second before I went off. She sat back on her heels and gazed up at me with her big, brown eyes.

  “Not yet.” She knows me well and made a quick grab for my hands before I could get my fingers on my clit. A couple of good jerks and I would have come in her face.

  “Goddamn it, Tina, I need to get off.” I was growling, but I kinda liked it when she made me wait. Sometimes my stomach hurt the next morning from being clenched so tight for so long until she finally let me come.

  “Let’s go in the bedroom first.” She kissed the tip of my clit and I let out a pathetic whimper. “It’s time for your outfit. Come on.”

  Like I could walk. But I got up on shaky legs, my clit a hot coal in the center of my cunt, and trailed after her into the bedroom like an eager puppy. What can I say? I had a wicked hard-on and she was my salvation.

  I didn’t see any clothes in the bedroom, and what I did see made me almost forget about my clit. The bed was covered with some kind of plastic sheet. Now I’m up for almost anything, especially on Tina’s birthday, but she’d never mentioned water sports before.

  “Uh, babe? What’s going on?”

  “Lie down on your belly,” Tina directed. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Warm?” I laughed. “I’m about to incinerate. Just do me real fast before we get dressed. It won’t take long. I’m ready to pop.”

  She ran her nails down between my tits, over my belly, and dipped one finger into my cunt. When she rubbed my clit, my legs almost gave out. I grabbed her wrist and tried to shove her hand inside me, but she backed away quickly and pointed to the bed.

  “Facedown.”

  Intrigued despite being slightly pissed that she wouldn’t let me come, I stretched out on the cool smooth surface. I turned my head and watched her set out a strange assortment of objects—a stainless-steel bowl, some kind of lotion, and a can of something that I didn’t recognize.

  “What’s all that?”

  Tina gave me a look like a little kid at Christmas, excited and pleased with herself. “Your clothes for tonight.”

  Then she proceeded to open the can and pour a viscous black substance into the stainless steel bowl. She set it aside, picked up the lotion, and sat on the bed beside me. “You’ll be wearing a jockstrap and a cropped sleeveless T-shirt.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  She squirted something cool and thick on my back and started to rub it all over me, concentrating on my shoulders and ass. The second she started touching me, my clit was twitching again.

  “Latex body paint.” She slid her lubed fingers into the crack of my ass, worked them back and forth, did a quick pass over my cunt, and jerked my clit. “Stay hard for me.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I grunted, humping her fingers. “It’s a stone.”

  “The lotion will help the latex come off later,” she said like we were having a normal conversation rather than me about to come all over her hand. She let go of my hard-on and I cried. Real tears leaked out of my eyes.

  “I wanna come. I wanna come so bad.”

  “I know you do. Be good.”

  My ears were buzzing so loud I couldn’t tell what she was doing until I felt her smearing something different on my ass with her fingers, drawing patterns of some kind.

  “That looks so cool,” Tina said. “I’m painting the jock on with the latex. It’s so sexy.”

  “Can I come?” I was pretty much on a one-way track to anything-you-want-just-please-let-me-shoot by then. I didn’t care what she was putting on me or if it ever came off. She smoothed two fingers down between my legs, along the far outside edges of my cunt. I wanted her inside, fucking me, and lifted my ass so she could get to me.

  “Stay still, Dannie. I want this to dry smooth. It only takes a minute.”

  “Rub my clit. Make it shoot. Please, Tina, baby.”

  She smeared more latex over my ass, then leaned down and ran her tongue around the inside of my ear. “You can play with it while this dries, but you can’t come. I want you to shoot that big load in my mouth.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered, raising up enough to get my fingers around my clit. Nothing feels as good as shooting off in Tina’s mouth, and I wasn’t gonna settle for creaming in my hand when I could have that. I know how to work a hard-on without losing my load, so I just squeezed and tugged every now and then while this second skin tightened around my ass. I must have been twitching a little too much because Tina kept whispering for me to lie still. Just when I didn’t think I could take it any longer, she told me to roll over. As soon as I did, she knelt between my legs and latched on to my nipple with her teeth. That just about finished me, and I would have come except she grabbed my hand and yanked it off my clit.

  “Fuck!” I yelled this time.

  Laughing, Tina worked my tits over for a few minutes, then spread the lube over my breasts and belly and started with the latex again. This time I could watch her and I almost forgot my aching dick. She scooped handfuls of the stuff onto my tits and smoothed it in swirly circles, using one finger to outline the edges, making it look like a T-shirt that just barely covered my nipples. Then she moved down and painted the waistband of the jock just above my pubes. Or where they used to be. I eased up on my elbows so I could see her slicking her way to my crotch. The latex dried smooth and flat, and when she put a second coat on it looked like clothes you could see through, only not quite. She had everything covered but the few inches right around my clit. That was still poking out like a fat red cherry.

  “You’re not gonna cover that, are you?”

  Instead of answering, Tina ran the flat of her tongue slowly between my cunt lips, sucking up my come and dragging the slightly rough surface of her tongue over the head of my clit. Stars burst behind my eyes and my legs started doing a jittery dance on the rubber sheet.

  “I’m gonna coat right up to it,” Tina whispered in between licks. “So when you’re at the party no one will see your hard-on.” She sucked me hard and fast and I started to come. “But I’ll know…”

  My clit was jerking against her lips and I was making crazy crying sounds.

  “…it’s right there.”

  She sucked me in deep so I could finish shooting in her mouth, and then my arms gave out and I fell back in a daze. About all I could move was my tongue, which was a good thing, because Tina flipped around on the bed and straddled my face.

  “Lick me off, baby,” she purred, and while I did, she kept running her fingers over the black shiny stuff covering my tits and crotch, polishing it up.

  “Slick, so slick,” she crooned as I sucked and licked her sweet, hard clit. Right before she whimpered and gushed all over my face, she sighed, “Oh, baby, you’re slicker than Slik.”

  STRETCHING LOGIC

  Jean Roberta

  Maureen tried to give Xavier a wise, motherly look. “You’re playing devil’s advocate. Again.” She picked her cup of coffee up off the table and held it against the delicate pink skin of her cleavage, enjoying the warmth. “I can’t believe you really think the U.S. should take over Canada. Especially now.”

  She twirled a lock of her long chestnut hair around her index finger, looking more flirtatious than she intended. It had been years since Xavier had been her student in a first-year writing class, but she still couldn’t quite think of him as her equal. Or so she told
herself.

  This time, the context was different. They had debated politics, history, the arts, religion, culture and sex roles in their favorite coffee shops while the summer sun baked the pavement outdoors, when golden leaves drifted from the trees, when snow pelted the windows, and when the cool wind of early spring promised better things to come. But Maureen had never invited Xavier to her home alone before.

  He was stretching a rubber band to the breaking point, aiming at the shadow between her breasts, just visible above the deep V neckline of her forest green sweater. “I never said they should take over. More the other way ’round. Merging two similar countries would be more efficient than pretending they are completely separate, which is a myth even now. You misunderstand me, Lady Maureen. Do you know how sexy you look?”

  “Is that why you’re planning to shoot me with an elastic?”

  “Right between the tits.” He studied her from deep brown eyes, using both long, thin hands to stretch and release the wide rubber band that he had fished from her open briefcase, which sat in its usual place on a chair at her dining-room table. Snap! “Think of the sting.” He licked his lips. “It could give you a rosy glow.”

  In the years since they had first met in Maureen’s class, Xavier had matured into a confident young man who worked out religiously to maintain his muscle tone. He still had an alert face with prominent cheekbones. His black hair still hung boyishly over his forehead and down his neck, but his hairstyle had evolved from a desperate cover-up for teenage acne to a signature look. In numerous subtle ways, he looked infinitely more adult than he had before.

  Maureen secretly found him fascinating. Behind the predictable game-playing of a young man testing his luck was a quick mind as capable of surprises as his body. She had always seen his potential, but she had always buried her sexual interest in him under the calm façade of an intellectual fairy godmother.

  “I’m older than you,” she told him.

  “Pffft. What, you’re in hibernation because you’re over forty? I like cougars.”