I’ve had a series of posts on Latex for the curious, which were meant to show how anyone can ease into experiencing latex, just out of curiosity, without having to be a devoted fetishist. Most people aren’t, and it would be wonderful if more fashionable latex items could be seen and enjoyed in non-fetish settings. Parks, restaurants, pretty much anywhere.
And then the is an entirely different world. The world where latex is more than just a curiosity that may come and go. The world where it’s hard to imagine spending lengthy periods without latex, where latex becomes part of the daily routine, like a comfort blanket. Even if you can’t wear it, you want it near you, touch it, smell it, gloss it. Anything to sink deeper, even if just for a few seconds, into the dreamland of latex fetishism.
My very first latex item was an off the rack black latex catsuit. It had a back zipper, no gloves and no feet attached. I have to admit that at the time, it was curiosity that drew me to my first expensive fetish purchase. It wasn’t love at first sight, more at first night.
Coming fresh from the store, the catsuit was more industrial looking, not shiny, nothing that would suggest I would fall in love with it over the next few hours. But I had been doing my homework and got the instructions on latex-care, how to make it shine, and most importantly, how to put it on😉.
I arrived at home and immediately filled the sink with water and a generous dose of latex gloss. The water went from clear to bubbly, felt soft, and the temperature was just warm enough to want to soak my own hands in it. Before my hands got their treatment, I carefully took the catsuit out of its bag, turned it inside-out, and placed it like delicate porcelain into the sink. Then I began to wash every part of it. The transformation from the industrial look to the glossy shine was instant. Even the touch changed, from somewhat gritty, to slippery smooth. And what appeared as a slightly grayish catsuit was now a midnight black.
I must have spent a good half an hour reaching with my arms inside the slippery sleeves, the legs, doing everything I could to bring the dull latex to live. And it worked. Just hanging it up in the bathtub to dry-out, it was as if I had just created a work of art out of a mass of clay. The lights reflected off the glossy surface, its shape was now resembling a human body, albeit one that appeared to be considerably smaller mine.
The hours passed and I feared that as the latex was drying, it would return to something less shiny, less smooth, less…..intoxicating. It didn’t. It had gotten late and I had been patient all day to prepare the latex and not jump right into it. The time to experience latex had finally come.
Just using the silicone glide lube was an amazing experience by itself. I covered my body generously. My skin felt so smooth, unlike anything I had tried before. I thought stepping out of a nice bubble bath was giving me smooth skin, but the silicone lube was a new dimension of smooth. Doing the same to the inside of the catsuit, I began to imagine what it must feel like being surrounded entirely by latex. Replacing my own skin with a thin layer of shiny, smooth latex, a different texture, more perfect than my own body, more seductive than my own skin.
Sliding into the catsuit was easier than I had imagined. The lube stretched the legs easily up to my hip and what appeared to be much to small for my body, adjusted at ever turn to hug my curves, not a wrinkle in sight. Then it was time to slide my arms through the sleeves. Just bending forward to reach into each of them, I could tell that the catsuit was going to be just as tight in its length as it was in every other dimension.
Pulling the arms through, and getting the latex to embrace my body, took little more than stretching out my arms and pushing out my chest. The latex followed the easiest path around my body and with a slight ‘slosh’ my arms and shoulders were now inside. Nothing left to do, but pull up the zipper. Fortunately, I had followed some good advice from the store and attached a small loop to the zipper. As slippery as my own hands were, getting a firm grip on the zipper would have been difficult.
Reaching between my legs, I found the loop and the zipper. I had shaved my pussy completely out of fear that hair might get caught in the zipper. I’ll never know whether it would have. I keep my pussy hairless ever since. Getting the zipper through the crotch area was easy. Pulling it up the back was considerably harder. And with every bit of tightening the zipper in back, I could feel the suit pushing in my crotch area. Where there was a bit of slack at first, the suit began to dig gently into my pussy, forming a slight cameltoe.
I couldn’t see how far the two parts of the zipper were apart on my back, but with every inch that I worked the zipper up the back, the latex embrace got tighter. At times, I needed to reach around and use my spare hand to pull the two sides of the zipper together before I could pull it further up. But I managed, through my waist, up to my chest, over my breasts, and finally closing around my neck. It seemed like hard work, and probably was. The kind of hard work that is usually followed by a sense of euphoria.
Love at first touch cannot even begin to be compared with the look, the feel, the embrace of the latex catsuit when it was fully closed. It wasn’t a clothing item, it didn’t ‘decorate’ me, it was me. Every small movement was mirrored by my catsuit, it was my skin, just embracing me, gently, and smoothing out all the little imperfections. The feeling of being a human rubberdoll was overwhelming. I never wanted to leave my newly acquired cocoon again. And even though it was late, and I had to get up the next morning to go to work, I had no intention of taking the catsuit of any earlier than I had to.
So, I ended up falling onto my bed with no intention of getting up again. Like a baby, I was in dreamland. It was an amazing night, escaping to a different world, one that feels warm, welcoming, and incredibly sexy. Just me, my new self, hugging a blanket, and sinking into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I was late for work. Not that I woke up late. I just had a feeling that I could not focus on anything other than the last twelve hours. Horny did not even begin to describe my feelings. I had to first burn off some pent-up energy with more than one orgasm.
Seeing me as a rubberdoll may turn on others, but nowhere near as much as being the rubberdoll.