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Good Thing, part 1 - free fetish story.

Barely suppressed laughter, giggles – even outright derision followed us wherever we walked. As usual, my girlfriend Joanne serenely strode on without a care in the world. I could only envy her confidence as I trudged alongside her. Her gleaming rainwear glistened like a lighthouse beacon in the soft light of the late morning. She reminded me of that ditzy blonde in 'Legally Blonde' – if you're into chick flicks, you'll remember Reece Witherspoon as the crazy, love-struck gal who invaded the prestigious and stuffy Harvard Law School on a wing and a prayer with hilarious results. I couldn't see much amusing about my current situation though. Instead, I could only reflect on the immutable fact that there really could be such a thing as too much of a good thing…

Famine and starvation is one thing – you really appreciate what you've got once the good times return – but gluttony is another ball game altogether. I had no idea how to deal with the rules of the game. Joanne is a strict taskmaster – what's good enough for her is also good enough for me – but could I live with her increasingly restrictive rules?

{[Joanne admiring the flowers]} She was a mermaid, a siren, an angel. For someone like me, the girl was a vision from Heaven. She wasn't especially pretty – but no one else stood out anything quite like her. Her shiny hot-pink soft plastic raincoat with its matching sou'wester rainhat and rainboots separated her from the rest of the herd sprouting so many umbrellas in a vain attempt to protect them from the driving rain. Think Barbie and you've got some idea what she looked like. The girl was the only one even remotely dressed for the inclement weather – yet I could see half our fellow commuters staring in her direction as if she had just stepped straight off a spacecraft from Mars.

Her face creased in a dazzling smile as we approached. I wasn't silly enough to think that it was my Brad Pitt looks which she found so attractive (I don't even look like him!) – nevertheless I couldn't help feeling absurdly pleased and flattered that she'd picked me out from the milling throng impatiently waiting for the lights to change so they could dash across the rain-swept street. It was a vile day. The gusting gale was pushing water across the tarmac in miniature waves and I could only wonder how rough it was out there in the nearby ocean. Perhaps it was my shiny yellow rainsuit which she liked so much. I'd bought my new rainwear online a couple of months ago after discovering it during a 'Google' search.

It's not hard to see why Joanne liked my rainsuit so much - it's really shiny and yellow!
My rainsuit is very smooth, shiny and yellow. It's why I love wearing everything so much. Even putting my rainwear on is half the fun – slide the long overalls all the way up my legs, adjust the elastic straps over my shoulders before slipping on and doing up the matching hip-length jacket. The hood comes last of all. I tie the drawstrings tightly beneath my chin before setting out. At first, I was embarrassed wearing something this shiny and yellow in public before realising that hardly anyone noticed my rainwear – as long as it was really wet. If anyone did look, they just assumed that I was a motorcycle courier – there's lots of them around here. I could get away with wearing my rainwear during days like this but it'd taken all my reserves of courage to work up to this point.

With a startling suddenness, Barbie Girl was standing opposite me. "Um… hi," I said. I'm not good with the opposite sex. Girls can sense my desperation – and fear in much the same way an impala can sense when a lion is eyeing it off as a meal. Therefore, at age 30, I'm (still) dateless – and desperate! I'm also a virgin – and that hurts as well. It's never been much fun going out and seeing all my mates pick up – although I was not sure how I would manage in the unlikely event that I ever managed to lure a real live woman back to my bachelor pad. I've got a few skeletons in my closet, the discovery of which did not bear contemplation.

"Hello," she replied and I smiled again. I instantly felt comfortable with her. I had no idea why, I just knew. Perhaps it was that unspoken, shared bond we'd recognised in each other?

"Horrible day huh?" I grinned before inwardly wincing. It was hardly an original observation but I didn't know what else to say. Talk about stating the bleeding obvious!

"No, it's a beautiful day!" she brightly replied.

{[The storm hits Sydney]} The towering Sydney Harbour Bridge was barely visible deep within the grey, scudding cloud and scything rain cloaking the beautiful blue harbour like a blanket. The Opera House was an indistinct white shroud in the teeming rain. The weather was an advertisement for the Harbour City which never showed up in the glossy tourist brochures extolling its virtues. What the people experiencing the lifetime thrill of climbing the Bridge (yes, there is a company conducting organised ascents of our famous "coat-hanger"!) thought about the totally inclement conditions spoiling their unique adventure, I dared not speculate.

"Well, you could say that," I hesitantly replied. I'd certainly never met anyone quite like the cute elfin little thing confidently facing me. It was late afternoon and darkening rapidly. The P&O super-liner Oriana was lit up like a Christmas tree against the deepening gloom while any number of quaint green and gold ferries busily bustled past, ferrying commuters and tourists to every far-flung part of Sydney Harbour. "Depends on your point of view."

Damn, but she was pretty! Although I couldn't make out every detail of the girl's features beneath the wide brim of that shockingly pink vinyl sou'wester and the up-turned collar of her rainwear, it wasn't hard to see how attractive my new companion was. She was slim, very slim. At least we stood roughly the same height. I had perhaps one inch on her, that's all. I liked the way the girl's rainwear accentuated each sexy curve of her body. She'd tucked everything in with a matching belt, forcing the hem of her rainwear to flare out a little where it was rippling and rustling with a loud crackle of plastic in the increasing wind. Her lovely features were surprisingly brown and I wondered why because she wasn't obviously Asian. Eurasian perhaps? Her nose was a cute button while a bright, mischievous set of dazzlingly blue eyes boldly examined me, moving downwards then upwards. Her hair was barely visible but I could see a few curly bangs vainly trying to escape their plastic prison. I could hardly tear my eyes away from her rosebud lips; they were round and full – what would it be like kissing her while we… Forget it, I chided myself. I knew it wasn't going to happen.

"Yeah," she agreed. Her smile was a bright, beautiful thing and I was immediately smitten. We were made for each other, I just knew it. "I guess the duck's'll be happy though."

She spoke with a broad Australian twang and I wondered where she was from.

"Yes, they will," I smiled before cheekily adding, "At least some people I know won't have to worry about getting wet…" pointedly gazing in the direction of her glistening rainwear to emphasise my point.

This time she laughed and I happily returned her sudden impish grin as she replied, "Like you?"

"You got me there," I said. I was glowing inside. I'd heard that if you could make a girl laugh, you were already halfway there. It'd been a long time since I made a female of the genus Homo Sapiens laugh. I was batting on a good wicket. Gazing full into her face, I said (hoping that my voice wouldn't betray my true feelings), "I like your raincoat, it looks really nice!"

Her face beamed with delighted pleasure before somewhat diffidently replying, "Thank you… It keeps me so dry." Then, "I like your rainsuit, it's so yellow and shiny! Where did you find it?"

Thoroughly startled, I struggled to catch my breath. It wasn't every day that I had a conversation like this. Girls never said things like this – except in my dreams. The bizarre, almost surreal quality of our chat wasn't helped by the incredible vista or the crowds jostling us as they swept past on their way to the ferry terminal. The peak-hour rush was under full swing. There are few places in the world where people (I'm one of them) call an ancient ferry regular transport. The Manly ferry was just leaving and I idly studied its progress past the giant liner. Dwarfed by the huge bulk of the Oriana, the two hundred foot long, snub-bowed transport looked like a child's toy. (just to digress: as an Aussie, I am perfectly well aware how strange that a name like Manly Beach – or Manly ferry sounds to overseas visitors! It's hard not to say things that sound amusing in a juvenile sort of way although the joke wears off after a day or so)

"Uh… on e-bay," I admitted as I self-consciously caressed the thick vinyl protecting my hair. I'd done the hood up – almost as tight as it would go and I felt as if she could see right through me. "Days like this, it comes in really handy," I awkwardly said, trying to justify the reason for wearing something this outlandishly yellow.

"I just bet," she giggled. "Anyway I think it…" She never completed her sentence.

Someone impatiently pushed past, sending her sprawling and if I hadn't grabbed her by the arm, she might've fallen. "Hey, watch where you're going, you idiot!" I angrily exclaimed.

"It's OK," she smiled. "Hey, thanks for saving me!" she beamed before glancing downward and I flushed hotly as I noticed that my hand was still resting upon the cool, slick vinyl sleeve of her raincoat.

"No worries," I elaborately shrugged with a casualness I did not feel before jerking my hand away as if her arm was a hot potato. "It's getting a bit crowded out here."

"Yeah… too right, it is!"

I was beginning to panic. I didn't want to lose this nice girl. To lose sight of Raincoat Girl would be more than I could bear. But my traitorous tongue was tied up in knots while we smilingly studied each other. I didn't know what to say. Suddenly someone else bumped past us and I inwardly sighed. We were standing in the direct path of another horde of wild animals desperate for shelter. The rain was pelting down harder than ever. It was positively drumming against the hood and shoulders of my shiny rainwear – while I remained as dry as a bone within its protective folds. Water was slipping down the sleeves and sides of my rainsuit before splashing downward by my feet. The girl's smile was so bright that I hardly noticed the gloom of the day or the rain striking us with a cold fury. She was so nice! What should I do? I had no idea what made me say it; the words just escaped my tongue before I could control them. "I think we're in the way here, why don't we go somewhere a bit more sheltered?"

Her eyebrows arched with surprise and I inwardly cringed. Any second now, I would be shot down in flames.

Suddenly she smiled again before replying with an unbearable slowness, "That's a good idea. Where shall we go?"

I'd done it. I'd actually made it past first base!

Hardly daring believe my luck, I smiled again. "How about a pub nearby?" I suggested, waving my arm in the general direction of the Rocks. The Rocks is one of the oldest districts of Sydney. Huddling beneath the gigantic shadow of the Cahill Expressway and the Harbour Bridge, it was Sin City's former grog and bawdy red-light district of before being cleaned up and transformed into a tourist precinct. Many charming old terrace houses (most of which have been converted into galleries or restaurants) and some pubs still remain. They're popular with tourists and businessmen alike but given the bad weather and the time of week (a Thursday), I didn't think they would be crowded. The terraced promenade leading to the liner terminal was almost deserted save for a few hardy gulls and pigeons disconsolately pecking for scraps. Normally it's one of the best places in Sydney for people spotting or whiling away a leisurely afternoon – but not today. Not one of the dozens of the benches provided for leg-weary visitors was occupied. A sole busker in a black garbage bag was moodily touting for coins but his empty guitar case eloquently summed up his talent – or lack of it.

"Why not?" she replied with another killer smile that seared my heart. "Sounds good to me. A drink would be nice, now I think about it."

"Oh, I reckon!" I exclaimed. I was already daydreaming about sampling a certain nectar of an entirely different kind that the ones offered on tap. If only my mates knew. They love stirring me up because I'm still a virgin.

"Well. If we're going out together, I think we should introduce ourselves," she said with that no-nonsense, take-charge voice I was to learn too well during the months to come.

"Yeah, I agree," I replied awkwardly. My shyness was returning. "Um… my name's Eddie." It is actually short for Edward Charles Smyth-Jones. My parents are ardent Royalists – hence their choice of moniker. Given a choice or say in the matter, I'd change it tomorrow but… I don't want to upset them.

"And mine's Joanne!" She leant forward with a huge smile before taking my hand and briskly shaking it with an unexpected, almost masculine firmness. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too," I smiled, absurdly happy with the ease which I'd just… picked up out of nowhere.

"Shall we?"


The old, cosy pub was far from full when we entered the public bar. Only a few die-hard drinkers (all suits) occupied the seats near the bar. They all looked up as we entered and I flushed again as one of them hooted with drunken laughter upon spotting us. However, Joanne barely noticed their amusement, striding all the way up to the bar with me in tow.

"Bit wet today huh?" the cheerful bartender said as he approached us. Joanne still hadn't removed her hot pink sou'wester. Her gleaming, shiny rainwear shone like a lantern beneath the dim effulgent lighting of the bar. A small fire was burning in a nearby nook and I could see its flames reflecting off her raincoat.

"You could say that," Joanne grinned.

"It's real raincoat weather, as they say," he chuckled while I tried not to notice the stares. I could feel the table nearby looking and it wasn't altogether a pleasant feeling. I'm not extroverted by nature but Joanne either didn't notice – or care as she smiled before ordering.

Drinks in hand, we retreated to a quiet booth around the corner where she finally removed her pink headgear before smiling again.

"Cheers," said Joanne. Classes clinked. I was in Heaven. There I was sitting with a beautiful girl wearing the most gorgeous raincoat that I'd ever seen. If I'd known how my life would change from this point, I might have had second thoughts about the whole thing. I wanted to take off my rainsuit (the toilets were nearby) but I somehow sensed that she wanted me to leave it on – so I left everything on save for the hood.

Normally conducting small talk with a pretty girl is the most excruciating form of torture that I know of – but it was anything but the case with this lovely creature. I've never known the time pass so quickly as we laughed and chatted. Joanne was great company! Along the way, I learned that we actually had heaps in common (another first) including a shared love of the great outdoors. Equally down to earth as me, she preferred hiking, camping, fishing and sailing over the nightclubs and glitzy malls of Sydney. Joanne managed an expanding travel company and she was hoping to branch outwards into the Central Coast, Wollongong and Newcastle soon. I told Joanne that I flew a desk in a nearby office and she laughed when I said that Dilbert had nothing on me. Even the few silences punctuating our conversation were unusually comfortable as we sank deeper into the comfortable leather couches. She hadn't even taken her raincoat off; preferring to leave it buttoned up to the collar. By now I was somewhat lightheaded from the number of beers I'd consumed. It was during one such lull that she landed her bombshell.

"So… you like wearing rainwear?" she asked with an unnerving directness.

"Uh…" I floundered. What could I say? She had me by the short and curlies. I miserably gazed into her face, expecting to see contempt and derision decorating her beautiful, fine features. Instead, Joanne appeared strangely anxious, almost ill at ease.

My heart caught. Surely… not? Tonight was really the stuff of fantasy. It was preposterous thinking that it could possibly go further.

I bit my lip before slowly replying. Joanne didn't seem upset or worried about my choice of weather protection. If anything, it was what attracted me to her in the first place. Well. I had nothing to lose by telling the truth. I might even get lucky. In for a penny, out for a pound, as they say. "Yeah," I carefully said. "I… really like wearing… plastic rainwear. Um, how did you know?"

Plastic rainwear. There, I'd just come out and revealed my deepest, darkest secret to an almost complete stranger. Would she understand though? How the look and feel of plastic or vinyl excited me to an unbearable degree so that my cock felt like a solid rod of iron as soon as my skin come into contact with anything smooth or shiny? I've got no idea why I feel that way about plastic, only that it's been that way for years. I remember wearing a PVC raincoat to kinder – and how I always received such pleasurable sensations deep within my nether regions as soon as I put everything on. Instead of pursuing girls during my confused, turbulent, guilt-stricken teenage years, I chased down plastic rainwear in the shops – particularly camping and disposal stores which proved such fertile hunting grounds. Almost all my sexual thoughts and fantasies revolve around 'doing it' in plastic – which, of course, so far have gone unrealised. The closest I've come so far is Mrs. Hand and her five daughters. Usually I can't even get it up unless I've got my raincoat on. I stared into Joanne's face. Her plastic slicker rustled with an intoxicating crackle as she shifted position before replying. Her round, luminous eyes were very wide.

"Really?" she breathed, her cheeks flushing hotly.

I hesitantly nodded. I could feel my heart racing. It was beating so hard that I thought Joanne must pick up its thunderous bass beat any minute. "Yes – really."

Joanne gazed into my eyes. "I knew," she cryptically replied.

"Huh?"

"When I saw you, I knew," she replied. "I could see it in your face." She leant forward like a judge pronouncing sentence. "Are you busy tonight?"

"Huh? Yes… I mean… um, no! I'm not doing anything tonight."

"I think we've got a lot in common," Joanne breathed. "I really like you, Eddie. I want you to take me to Heaven tonight."

I was so shocked that I couldn't speak. I'd never met anyone quite like this dreamlike vision seated only centimetres away from me. I wasn't even sure if I was hearing correctly. She wanted me to take her home and… oh my God. My mind reeled with the erotic possibilities that the night suddenly promised. I was living out a fantasy and I hoped that I wasn't dreaming. However, Joanne's hand which had somehow crept down to my thigh was only too real. It was busily caressing the smooth, yellow PVC covering my legs and a gusty sigh escaped her lips as her burning eyes captured mine again. "Mmmm… I like the way it feels. So shiny and smooth."

"Yeah," I mumbled, scarcely able to believe this was happening.

"You're not kidding are you, Eddie?" she suddenly asked. "Because I'm really serious about this. I can't have anyone in my life who doesn't like plastic."

"Joanne…" I sighed. "I… I've always dreamed about… meeting someone like you. I really love wearing plastic raincoats and well… I've always wanted to… well, you know."

Joanne grinned. "Yes, I know…" She clapped her hands delightedly. "I can't believe this is happening!"

"Me too," I replied with the fervency of a priest taking Mass.

"Where do you live?" she quickly asked.

"Manly."

{[The Manly ferry making heavy weather of the crossing - Notice the partially sheltered forward area where we sat]} "Oh terrific!" Joanne gasped. "That's where I live too. Did you take the ferry today?"

This was just unbelievable. It was just getting better and better every moment. "Yep, I sure did." It'd been an exceptionally rough passage across the windswept passage of water facing the open ocean beyond the Sydney Harbour heads. More than once the lurching Manly ferry had buried its blunt bow in the dark green walls of water funneling through the Heads. I glanced outside the mullioned window. It was still blowing hard. Rain was sheeting across the narrow road. Another drenching was on the cards.

"Oh, that's great," Joanne exclaimed before pulling out a timetable. "We've got time to catch the next ferry if we hurry."

"Let's go then," I said, rising.

"Let's sit up front," said Joanne.

"You sure? We'll get wet."

"Well, what are raincoats for?" she said, giggling. "That's why I really love taking the ferry to work."

"Same here," I sighed. I'd definitely died and gone to Heaven. Joanne was my soulmate and I shivered with the delicious knowledge that I'd finally found someone who shared the same kinky desires as me.

"Here," Joanne mischievously said, placing her bright pink sou'wester rainhat in my trembling hands. "Do it up for me will you? There's a dear."

I'd hoped that there wouldn't be too many people tonight but the terminal was unusually crowded. Perhaps everyone had decided to sit out the rain before giving up? We were the only ones wearing plastic or PVC and I was acutely conscious how much we must stand out from the milling crowd beneath the wide roof of the terminal. Although there were umbrellas aplenty, few people wore any coats. I saw a few nylon cagoules and Goretex jackets here and there but that was about it apart from a middle-aged lady in a long opaque off-white raincoat. The grins I saw told me not everyone approved of our choice of rainwear. Joanne had steadfastly refused to allow me to lower the great gleaming dome of gleaming yellow vinyl tightly drawn around my face, saying, "We're going to get wet soon enough so no need to take it off." Of course, her shiny pink sou'wester acted like a beacon, ensuring that we were the center of attention during the thankfully short wait for the ferry.

No one else sat up front, although I could feel the curious stares from behind as we took our places on the bench seats right up front, just behind the dubious shelter of the forward superstructure directly above the bows. We were the only ones seated up front today within this normally most coveted position. After boarding, we'd climbed one set of stairs before gingerly negotiating our way down the aisle and dozens of gaping onlookers on the second level before making it up front into the semi-enclosed seating area right up front – where there is very little protection from the elements. There are perhaps ten rows of seating in this section and the first five or so are totally unprotected from the elements. We could have sat below right behind the bows but I'd seen the big green combers sweeping the area clean earlier so I decided the risk wasn't worth the excitement. We would be safe enough, twenty or so feet above the waterline – I hoped. The weather was actually worsening, if anything. Sydney was receiving the tail end of one of the great tropical depressions which often sweep southward during summer and it was dropping a ton of rain upon the drenched, shivering city.

{[When it rains, it really pours!]} "Why don't anyone dress properly for this kind of weather?" Joanne wonderingly asked after taking our seats. "I can't understand why some people apparently would rather get wet than…"

"Maybe not everyone feels the same way we do…" I gently replied.

"They're idiots!" she vehemently replied and I smiled before tenderly folding my arm around her shoulders.

"But you've got me," I smiled. I couldn't remember feeling as happy all my life as Joanne unhesitatingly burrowed closer, wrapping her slim arm around me.

"Yes, I've got you," she breathed. "Oh Eddie, you know what I want to do with you tonight?"

"Yeah, I've got some idea."

Joanne laughed. "Good boy. You know, I'm so horny already."

I still couldn't believe this was happening as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Hiding my stiffie was impossible. I'd never managed to sustain an erection this long (except when I wore my rainwear to bed). This was way beyond the most lurid of my occasional marijuana-laced fantasies. Joanne was kissing me now, running her hands over the crackly vinyl hood covering my hair. "Oh that feels so good," she sighed. "So nice and smooth."

Joanne's beautiful face was aglow as we tenderly gazed into each other's eyes before kissing again. If this was what love was all about, I definitely wanted more, I thought as her warm lips closed around mine an instant before her hot, darting tongue probed my mouth. She'd wrapped herself around me like a starfish and I could only wonder what Jo would be like in bed while we kissed as if our lives depended upon remaining locked together for as long as possible.

{[The clouds are really rolling inwards now, blanketing Sydney like a shroud]} The wind and rain struck us almost as soon as the venerable old Queenscliff cautiously edged out into the choppy water of the harbour. Almost immediately windblown spray sheeted over the bows before striking us and we instinctively ducked before laughing. It was a foretaste of the journey lying ahead. Normally, the run from Circular Quay to Manly takes about 30 minutes but given the ferocity of the storm, I knew it could easily blow out to almost an hour. We hadn't even cleared the Opera House and already the ferry was wallowing in the nasty, short windblown chop. The wide expanse of the Harbour was unusually deserted – normally it's a nautical playground where you'll see anything from battered old blokes whiling away the hours fishing for bream in their small aluminum dinghies to sleek multi-millionaire's yachts. No one was out on the water except for the ferries plying their trade. The Oriana slid past on our left. No passengers waved farewell as we picked up speed. The weather wasn't exactly conducive to staying up late outdoors on the private balconies afforded to most of their wealthy guests.

A couple of minutes later the immense bulk of the battleship grey Harbour Bridge loomed up high above us. As usual, I couldn't suppress an awed shiver as we slipped past before turning right. The top of the main arch is some 134 metres above sea level. Even the bridge deck sits some 51 metres above the Harbour below. A fall from that height would be fatal (although one very fortunate construction worker who tumbled from the deck in 1935 survived with only 3 broken ribs – apparently his toolbox disturbed the water enough to break his fall to some extent). It's like hitting concrete from that height. The Queenscliff was now butting directly down the Harbour into the teeth of the gale. Although our elevated position mostly sheltered us from the spray, we had no such protection from the swirling, squally wind and driving rain. Joanne huddled closer before giggling again as water streamed down our rainwear. I'm sure that the passengers cozily seated in the well-lit cabin behind us probably thought we were crazy but I was too intoxicated with the joy of the moment to care about what anyone thought.

{[The Sydney skyline in better weather....]} It was the first time that I all but ignored the awesome panorama of the Central Business District perched above the Harbour. There was Centrepoint Tower standing sentinel over the brightly-lit office blocks and residential towers lining the water's edge. It was a scene I never tired of but tonight the view had competition – Joanne. I could not tear my eyes away from her laughing eyes – or her shiny rainwear. Joanne's darting tongue was a dancing devil – and it was driving me crazy.

"Oh Eddie… I'm so glad that I met you," she breathed after reluctantly coming up for air.

"Me too," I sighed before wondering if it was worth pushing my luck with a lottery ticket. Probably not. There are some things that money simply cannot buy and this was one of them.

"Eddie… oh Eddie…" Joanne moaned. "I want you so much." Suddenly before I had time to react, she gripped my hand before pushing it beneath the waistband of her crisp slacks. "Make me happy," she cooed.

Suspending my disbelief was impossible as I nervously pulled Joanne closer before easing my hand downward. Fortunately the relatively high-backed seats we were occupying partially hid us from view. I knew that all the other gawking, nosy passengers could see were our shoulders and heads. I just hoped that Jo wouldn't notice how much I was shaking as I hurried to obey her instructions. If only she knew. It was only the first time I'd ever made it this far south – never mind the fact that I was actually feeling up a girl in almost as public a manner as possible!

I closed my eyes before gustily inhaling. I was dreaming now. Any moment, I would wake up and… At that moment, a wave slapped past the bows, sending a bridal veil of spray flying past. It stung my eyes and I brushed everything away before wonderingly shaking my head. I really was 'doing it' on the Manly ferry with a girl wearing the most gorgeous pink raincoat I'd ever seen.

"Come on," Joanne urged. "Make me happy please."

I didn't need any further encouragement. I was too far-gone to think about anything but venturing into previously forbidden territory. Her moan was loud as I insistently pressed further downward. Her skin was impossibly soft and warm, and I luxuriated in the new sensations that I was receiving. She obligingly spread her legs apart to allow easier access. Suddenly I reached her crotch and I stiffened with utter shock after realising what Joanne had on beneath her pants.

Oh my God… She was really serious about this kind of thing, wasn't she? Her plastic panties were so soft and smooth. I couldn't resist fondling the wide, crinkly waistband of Joanne's undies before moving onward. They just felt so nice!! I'd never felt anything as wonderfully soft and smooth as the plastic covering her crotch.

"Feels nice, don't they?" she murmured before smiling.

"Oh yes," I sighed. My dick was harder than ever. They felt… wonderful!

"Do you have any?" Joanne abruptly asked.

"Huh? Have any what?"


"Panties. Plastic ones, I mean."

"Uh… no, I don't," I nervously admitted, hoping that Jo wouldn't mind.

"I'll lend you some of mine if you like," she said. "Then you can wear them all the time like I do."

Oh my word… Not for the first time, I briefly wondered if I was already in over my head. My head was spinning – already I felt as if I was spiralling out of control and it wasn't an altogether pleasant sensation. Nevertheless, it was an offer I just couldn't refuse. Already I was wondering what her soft, elastic plastic panties would feel like against my skin. "Uh… thank you very much," I gulped.

"You're welcome," Joanne happily said. "I'm so happy that I've met someone who loves plastic like I do."

I mutely nodded as the Queenscliff lurched again. The motion of the ferry was subtly changing as we cruised downstream and I briefly wondered why before realising that the swell was already quite big. It must be really bad outside if the waves were pushing this far upstream. We weren't even close to the Heads yet.

"You know, I really hate wearing my stupid suit," Joanne complained, indicating her neat pinstripe slacks. "But I have to."

I grinned. "Yeah, I know."

"I'll be glad when I get home," she sighed.

I just had to know. "Um… what do you wear when you're… home by yourself?"

My question was rewarded with a look which eloquently said, 'Are you crazy?' A sudden grin followed. "Plastic of course!"

"Oh wow…" I breathed, trying to visualise the incredible sight of Joanne wearing her raincoat around the house. "Really?"

"Oh, yes…" Joanne mused. "I always change as soon as I get home. I've got heaps of plastic bodysuits, which I usually wear when I'm home. You'll like them. They feel so nice."

"I just bet," I weakly replied.

"Do you have many raincoats or anything like that at all?"

"Not really," I sighed; hoping that Joanne wouldn't think any less of me for my admission. "I've got a few – maybe ten or twelve but… nothing like your collection, I think."

Joanne grinned. "I've got hundreds of raincoats – um… as well as rainsuits, overalls, underwear, yeah like that. I just can't wait to show you everything!"

"I can't wait to see your stuff," I sighed. I could only imagine what her collection looked like. One thing was already certain. She was quite obsessive about this plastic thing. Joanne lived and breathed plastic rainwear. I was so entranced with the turn our chat had taken that I'd almost forgotten what I was supposed to be doing.

"Eddie… are you gay?" Joanne suddenly giggled. "Aren't you going to…"

"Oh yes… sorry!" I gasped before awkwardly groping around for her love canal. My hand found a curly bush of hair and Joanne moaned again.

"Keep going… please… I like that."

I obediently pushed downward. Suddenly my questing fingers encountered a warm wetness and I gasped before biting my lip as they slipped all the way inside her slit. I'd never imagined that anything could feel this… nice! So warm, smooth and impossibly slippery.

"Oh, ohhh… that feels so nice!" Joanne moaned. "My clit… touch it… please!"

Thank God I'd studied the anatomy of the vagina in detail in preparation for just this moment. I knew what Joanne wanted me to do and I scrambled around before discovering this little, round nub. The short, sharp scream as I touched her rosebud told me that I was on the right track.

"Oh, baby! Please… don't stop!"

I'd died and gone to Heaven. There I was feeling up, masturbating only the most beautiful girl I'd ever met on the ferry home. Every sense, sensation was heightened beyond belief – I could see and feel everything with a crystal-sharp clarity – most of all, the scarcely believable softness of Joanne's puss and the incredible hidden warmth it contained. As if that was not all, I was also acutely aware of the cool smooth plastic of her undies caressing the outside of my hand and wrist while I fingered her. The intoxicating crackle and pop of Joanne's unbelievably shiny vinyl rainwear added to the assault upon my senses as we clung to each other. The wind and rain was really lashing us now and I could see water beading on the smooth vinyl of our rainwear before streaming away. I was so hard now that it hurt. My dick felt as if it was trying to burst out of its restraining foreskin.

As if aware of my torment, Joanne sympathetically gripped my swollen privates before gently squeezing everything. She couldn't reach my penis because my yellow vinyl overalls prevented her from obtaining access but her touch was a benediction, a taste of things to come.

{[Copping a real pounding]} The Queenscliff was beginning to roll badly and Joanne shrieked with excitement as it buried its bows in a wave, sending a shower of spray high above us. It struck us with a rattling roar and she instinctively ducked, turning her head away before laughing again. Although I couldn't see much through the driving rain and darkness, I'd made this commute so many times that I knew this region of the Harbour like the back of my own hand. We'd long since passed Point Piper (the home of the rich and famous) before swinging around in a wide turn and straightening up again for the long run past the Heads on our way to Manly. We were just passing Watsons Bay now.

The worst was yet to come. An inky blackness on our right told me that we were fast approaching the Heads where the Harbour meets open ocean. South Head was perhaps half a kilometre away on our right. The giant swells were much larger now and I almost lost my grip as the ferry sank its bows into a huge, foaming wave. Before we had a change to react, a sheet of spray exploded upwards, soaking us both. Water streamed down the scuppers and Joanne screamed before letting go of my crotch and holding me tight. The rain was heavier than ever. Water was streaming down my rainwear and I was glad of the protection the thick vinyl provided. A rattling noise not unlike buckshot told me we'd hit another wave as the ferry rolled before staggering into another comber.

The Queenscliff was not handling the conditions well. Although the Queenscliff is some 200 feet long, the grand old ferry is not designed for making ocean passages. Its narrow beam and relatively shallow draught makes it highly vulnerable to anything bigger than the wakes thrown up by the largest pleasure craft. We were only just passing South Head and nothing but thousands of miles of raging ocean laid on our right (or starboard side). Although it was almost pitch black out here, I could just make out each massive swell approaching from starboard. They were intimidatingly large. The Queenscliff was corkscrewing badly now and I began to wonder if we should retreat to the safety of the enclosed passenger cabin as the Queenscliff threatened to dive all the way to the bottom. White water surged past the front bulkhead just in front of our knees and we both ducked as a wall of spray smashed into our exposed backs. This was beginning to be not much fun any more. Joanne's rainwear wasn't providing much protection although I was doing my best to shelter her. I was still quite dry beneath the protective layers of vinyl keeping the sea and rain out but the conditions out here were frankly, quite scary. I badly wanted to laugh while I thought about everyone seated behind us in the shelter – and safety of the cabin. What must they think about us now?

"Are you OK, Jo?" I yelled as spray shot past us.

She hesitantly nodded before smiling. "I'm really enjoying myself!" she shouted.

[Tsunami] Slowly, ever so slowly, the pitching, rolling Queenscliff forged ahead. A red light on our starboard side told me that we were approaching North Head. The worst was almost over now. Soon we would be in sheltered waters again – not before time, I thought. I'm a good sailor but it was honestly frightening out here. A couple of times the Queenscliff rolled so far that I thought we might turn turtle any moment. It was only through the greatest of good luck that we hadn't fallen. We'd wedged ourselves between the bulkhead and our seats but it was hardly a comfortable way to ride. The driving rain was also adding to the discomfort outside. I would not be sorry when we reached Manly.

Suddenly I sensed, rather than saw a huge wave bearing down on us. The Queenscliff began to roll into the yawning trough and I screamed, "Down!" a split second before it struck.

"Tsunami!" Joanne screamed.

The Queenscliff stopped dead before convulsively shuddering as if struck by a missile. The bow vanished beneath a black, glassy wall of water and I hung on for dear life as it rose – and rose higher. This was the kind of thing the tourist brochures definitely never talked about! With an agonizing slowness that seemed to take forever, the bows rose as the Queenscliff righted itself and the wave rushed past with a terrifying, rumbling roar. Everything went opaque as a blinding curtain of white spray struck us before being torn away by the howling gale.

"Oh my God…" said Joanne.

There were less dangerous ways of receiving a sexual kick but I dared not mention as much to Joanne who was nervously studying each approaching wave. She was unnaturally quiet now. The worst was past though. It was still rough but the waves were now approaching the Queenscliff from the stern quarter as we sailed past the South Head into much more sheltered water. Our destination was in the lee shore and our speed began to pick up as we approached the Manly terminal. It was still blowing as hard as ever but the windblown chop was no more than a couple of feet now.

A couple of hardy passengers actually ventured outside and joined us, admiring the view from the bows. Manly does not share anything like the skyline Sydney has but it's still pretty enough especially during nighttime when all the twinkling lights illuminate the harbour like a billion fireflies.

"You're crazy," one guy said in a jocular voice. "I can't believe you sat out there in that."

"You're probably right," I grinned, hoping that he wouldn't notice my embarrassment.

"That was the scariest trip I can ever remember," he commented, lighting a cigarette before inhaling and blowing the smoke out in a cloud.

"It wasn't much fun," I agreed. "I thought we were gone when that wave hit us."

"It was a bastard of a wave. Biggest I've seen. I just heard that they've cancelled the last two ferries," our kindly observer mused between quick, nervous drags. "Too dangerous out there."

"I'm not surprised," I said with heart-felt agreement.

"Fucking awful weather," he sighed. "My umbrella broke so I'm gonna get soaked."

"Should've worn a raincoat," Joanne cheekily piped up.

"I would but… what would the office say? They'd laugh at me if I wore anything like that," he said and I inwardly winced. His comments were a reminder how unfashionable our choice of weather protection was. Better dry than… well, 'wet'.

"Who cares what other people think?"



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Offended, our visitor flicked the butt overboard before disappearing inside. "I do."

We were the last off the ferry. Yet, despite the weather, I could clearly see the amusement which many of our fellow travellers regarded us and I inwardly squirmed. As usual, Joanne blithely ignored their stares. "They're just jealous," she said and I grinned. It was absolutely bucketing down as if God was determined to recreate the Great Flood especially for the Sin City as Sydney is sometimes called for its gay and lesbian Mari Gras and exuberant, hedonistic lifestyle.

{[Many Beach on a day the marketers spinning Sydney's virtues would rather you not see]} More stares greeted us as we leisurely strolled up the almost deserted Manly Corso. I was certain they were less interested in my darkly pretty partner than her shockingly pink rainwear and of course, myself garbed from head to toe in almost equally shiny vinyl. It is a short walk from the ferry terminal to the world famous Manly beach and it was not long before I found myself parading down the beachside promenade with Joanne who'd long since recovered from her fright after our encounter with that giant wave. Fortunately, there were precious few people braving the wild weather. The beach was deserted, another first but I knew it wouldn't be long before the first die-hard wax-heads returned for another crack at the battalions of giant waves majestically rolling inwards like Guderian's Panzers, attacking the foreshore with a white fury. Surfing is Sydney's second sport, behind only rugby league. The only company we had was a couple of people walking their dogs ("why aren't they wearing raincoats either?" Joanne asked in a loud whisper) and a single jogger desperately seeking his daily endorphin fix. His face red and sweaty, he ran past without even sparing us a glance.

Joanne's beachfront apartment was only a kilometer or so down the road and I wondered how she could afford this place on her salary. Inheritance maybe? A couple of million was tied up easy in her heavenly pad.

"Home sweet home," Joanne sighed, before wrapping her arms around me as soon as we passed the front door.

"There's no place like home," I agreed as she pressed her lips against mine. I could see a gorgeous crystal clear PVC raincoat casually slung over the black leather couch fronting the ocean beyond. Nice. How many more did she own?

Joanne noticed the direction of my gaze and she smiled. "Like it do you?"

"Oh yes," I sighed. I'd finally reached Heaven.

"Come on, I'll show you my raincoat collection. I've got heaps more," she proudly boasted.

"Shouldn't we change first?" I mildly asked. "Your trousers are soaking wet."

"Yeah," Joanne replied, slightly piqued that I didn't want to see her raincoats first. She glanced downward. "Phew, it was wet out there."

"Next time, wear a rainsuit like me," I said, without thinking about the consequences.

"Yeah, good idea," Joanne smiled, clearly pleased that I'd taken the initiative. "Ok let's change now and we'll put on our plastic bodysuits."

"Bodysuits?"

"Oh yeah!" Joanne exclaimed. All smiles now, she explained: "Remember, silly? I already told you. I've got these really beautiful clear plastic bodysuits that I always wear around the house. You'll love them!"

Oh my word. I was amazed. Although I really love wearing plastic raincoats, I rarely wear them around my place. As if I didn't already know, Joanne's words confirmed the extent of her love affair with plastic. She lived, breathed plastic rainwear. Oh well. I definitely wasn't complaining. It was so nice meeting someone who felt the same way about my favourite material that I did. "Could you show me please?"

"Sure!" Joanne bubbled. "I've got one that you can wear as well. In fact, I think I'll pick out something more appropriate for you to wear," she said. I'd just unbuttoned my dripping rainjacket, fearful of leaving water over the carpet. She impaled me with a basilisk stare. "You're not allowed to wear anything except plastic from now on."

"Oh…" I was somewhat taken aback to say the least. I didn't know whether I should be pleased or… After all, I'd been fantasizing about meeting someone like Jo for long enough. "Yeah… Ok," I obediently said. "But… what about pyjamas? You know, when we go to bed?"

"I've got some plastic PJ's," Joanne firmly replied. "You can wear those."

"Oh…" I'd definitely arrived in plastic Heaven. If but only I'd known at the time… "No worries," I weakly replied. Joanne was certainly quite dominating. Already she'd taken charge of my life in ways I hadn't expected.

"Wait here," Joanne ordered. Taking my rainwear, she continued with another brilliant smile: "I'll go hang these up in the bathroom then I'll quickly change then I'll bring your stuff as well."

I mutely nodded. Everything was happening so quickly that I still hadn't caught up with the speed that events had overtaken me. Meeting Joanne, the ferry ride here, my first kiss, feeling her up (had I really done that?), the walk here and now… I was certainly in for an unforgettable weekend, that much was certain! What would Mason (the webmaster of Tied and True Tales) say? I wondered if he would ever believe my story or dismiss it as fantasy, as Joanne flashed me another devastating smile before lightly skipping away. She still hadn't bothered undo her rainwear. Her sou'wester was still parked atop her hair as well.

While Joanne perambulated around her bedroom, I nervously gazed outside the large windows. I had little idea what to expect. This was just way outside my (albeit very limited) experience. There was little point worrying about what might happen tonight. Instead I vainly tried to take my mind away from everything happening to me by looking outside. The storm was still raging outside. Although there was no lightning, the wind and rain was still as heavy as ever, striking the thick glass with a machine-gun fusillade of rain with each strong gust. The straggly Norfolk pines lining the beach scarcely blocked the panoramic view beyond and I almost forgot Joanne while I watched the wild surf beyond. The breaking waves were illuminated a ghostly white by the lights from the mainland. I smiled before heavily exhaling. My nervousness was increasing. I'd been dragged, kicking and screaming, way out of my usual comfort zone into the home of the most… unusual woman I'd ever met.

"Helloooooooo…" Joanne called out and I half-turned before gasping.

{[gt19_t.jpg]}
The plastic playsuit that Joanne purchased from a Japanese mail-order catalogue
I'd never seen anything quite like the apparition proudly facing me, a wide delighted saucy smile decorating her lovely face. She was wearing (should that be "not" wearing?) the most amazing see-through crystal clear one-piece plastic bodysuit. Her grin grew wider and wider while I stared. Joanne might as well be naked for all it 'covered'. The only concession to modesty – if one could call it that, was the beautiful clear soft plastic panties and bra she wore beneath her rustling, crackly PVC cat suit. Her plastic bodysuit fastened in front with a zipper while a set of elasticized cuffs gripped her arms and ankles tightly. A matching elasticized waistband drew everything inward, helping mould the smooth vinyl to the luscious curves of her slim, youthful body. The finishing touch was the crinkly, roughly ovoid hood pulled tight around Joanne's head, neatly framing her oval face. She'd tied the drawstring laces as tightly as they would go beneath her chin with a double knot so nothing would slip. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and I felt my dick instantly harden as I drew my breath inwards.

"I always wear this around home," Joanne blandly commented before smiling again.

"It… looks fantastic!" I sighed. "I really love it!"

Joanne's smile was huge. "It feels so nice."

"I just bet it does." Suddenly I noticed that she was carrying a similar clear plastic suit and I uncomfortably squirmed as my cock quivered with excitement. How I wanted to wear it!

"Oh my, you're keen," Joanne's giggle was loud and I involuntarily blushed. "Well, go put yours on then. Here," she smiled, holding out a carbon copy of the plastic bodysuit she was wearing plus a neatly folded wear of ultra soft – and smooth panties. "My undies might be a bit small for you but that's OK."

I mutely nodded. My throat was dry. The plastic was so wonderfully smooth to the touch. I was totally smitten as soon as Joanne placed everything in my trembling hands.

"Ok - come on, hurry up, big boy," said Joanne, pointing in the direction of the bedroom and I hastened to obey.

Judging from the cleanliness, lack of personal artefacts and small size of the room, it was obviously a guest bedroom but I hardly noticed or cared while I hurriedly undressed. Like a drug user preparing his next fix, I just had to experience the incomparable sensation of smooth plastic against my skin – and this was the kind total plastic enclosure that I'd never dreamed of.

My manhood was so hard that I thought it would explode any moment while I carefully eased my impossibly soft plastic panties up my legs before adjusting them around hip height. It was the first time I'd ever worn anything like these and I could not believe how soft and smooth they felt against my bare behind. The plastic was almost a second skin as the sticky fabric clung to my skin with the tenacity of a child. I liked the way the wide elastic waistband and leg openings helped seal everything in place. Already, I could see the condensation forming inside. They fitted me almost perfectly – save for the manner my erect cock insisted upon standing to attention and I had difficulty pushing it back underneath.

My plastic suit was next and I wonderingly ran my hands down the impossibly clear glass smooth vinyl. The bodysuit wasn't as 'soft' as my undies but it still felt just as nice! Time to put it on now… My dick was on fire while I slid the smooth, crackly vinyl up my legs. It was surprisingly noisy but for me, this was part of the attraction. Within seconds, my catsuit had already reached my crotch and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out with pleasure as I gingerly eased my arms down each sleeve in turn. The smooth plastic felt wonderful, wonderful! No wonder Joanne enjoyed wearing it so much, I thought as I carefully pulled the zipper upward. The manufacturers had thoughtfully provided a triple three-way zip system and working out why didn't require the intellect of an Einstein. I bit my lip as I tried not to think about what doing it with Jo would be like in one of these. Only the hood remained and I pulled it up before leaving it loose.

A mirror had been thoughtfully provided on the inside of the door and I disbelievingly studied my reflection before stepping outside. I might as well have been naked for all the glistening vinyl covered. But ohhh… It looked and felt so good! My dick was as embarrassingly big as ever and I grimaced before reluctantly leaving the sanctuary of the bedroom.

"Oh, my word!" Joanne exclaimed before stepping backward and critically studying me as if I was an entomological specimen from South America. "You look great!"

"Thank you…" I muttered. I wasn't used to being eyed up this lasciviously by anyone, least of all by someone as beautiful as Joanne.

"But… why didn't you do up the hood?"



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"Um…" I had no answer. Perhaps I'd subconsciously wanted to see how Joanne would react.

"Come here," said Joanne. Her fingers twinkled. Within seconds, she had fastened the hood securely around my face with a double knot, yanking the laces tight.

I couldn't help smiling as she tied everything in place. The sheer intimacy of even this simple act was just unbelievable. Instead however, I was rewarded with a frown. "Huh?" I didn't understand.

"From now on," said Joanne, "you must always wear your hood like the way I've done it for you. Not loose – tight, like that. Understand?"

I mutely nodded. There was no point arguing – not that I wanted to. That uneasy feeling persisting in the pit of my stomach wouldn't go away though and I wondered why. I remembered Joanne's insistence that I leave my hood up during the long wait for the Manly ferry earlier.

"But… what if we're outside and it stops raining?" I had to know.

"Eddie…" Joanne spoke to me in that sickly-patient tone of voice suggesting that I was mentally defective for daring to ask. "Once our raincoats goes on, they stay on. And that includes the hood, even if it is not raining. You will leave everything buttoned up to the collar and the hood in place. If it's good enough for me, it is also good enough for you as well. No ifs, buts or maybes."

"Yeah… I understand," I slowly replied. Strangely enough, I was more excited than ever. There was something about being… dominated like this, being ordered to wear my rainwear whether I liked it or not that was threatening to push me over the edge – and I suspected that Joanne knew as much as well.

"My dearest darling…" Joanne embraced me before pushing her tongue inside my mouth and pashing me again. Her darting, dancing tongue was a devil and I vainly suppressed a groan as her hand gripped my cock imprisoned deep within two layers of plastic. Her other hand squeezed my buttocks before moving upwards. Jo knew what she was doing. Her hand was pushing the cool, smooth vinyl against my body. The incredible sensation of the plastic caressing my bare skin was threatening to drive me over the edge and Joanne knew it as well. Murmuring, "Feels good, doesn't it?" she slowly worked her way up between masturbating my aching shaft. Finally her hand reached my neck before caressing my cheeks and I thought I would pass out from pleasure. Every nerve ending was on fire!

My neck and cheeks are especially sensitive and I was acutely aware of the wonderful vinyl clinging against my skin while Joanne ran her fingers over my head. Suddenly aware that Joanne probably wanted me to reciprocate in kind, I pulled her close before gently rolling my hands around her head and down her back. "Ohhhh…" Joanne's moans were increasingly louder as I continued petting her with increasing boldness. She almost hit the roof when I reached her trim, taut tush! I cannot describe how good it felt squeezing each round plastic-coated cheek while she wriggled and squirmed in my arms with increasing abandon.

Without any warning, I erupted like a volcano with a shocking suddenness. The events of the evening had finally caught up with me.

Shocked and embarrassed, I stared downward as Joanne's disbelieving giggles rang in my burning ears. My plastic panties were sticky with creamy jism. I'd come like a… callow teenager – before I had time to consummate our budding relationship. Oh no… She would never want me now.

"Don't be upset, Eddie," Joanne whispered in my ear before tenderly kissing me full on my lips. "Plastic kinda has that effect on me as well, it's just such a big turn-on for me too! Can't you see how wet I am already?"

I shamefacedly nodded. "Yeah… thanks."

"Well, better now than later," she dryly commented and I flushed again.

"I'm so sorry…" I sighed.

"Look, don't be…" Joanne replied, nursing me as one might an unwell child. "Like I said I know because I understand. Plastic is just the biggest turn-on ever. I'm not surprised that you came like that. If it makes you feel better, I'm happy because I now know that you're the same as me. I've always wanted to meet someone who feels the same way about plastic raincoats like me," she whispered.

"Yeah… me too," I smiled. I could not believe how understanding Joanne was. I felt much better already.

Grinning wickedly, Joanne mused, "Besides… you'll last much longer tonight, big boy."

I was going to get laid tonight. She'd all but said so and I silently exulted. But what if…? I bit my lip. "Are… you sure?"

"I'm sure." Joanne's reply was infinitely gentle. A second later, I felt her hand caressing my sensitive neck and I gasped before returning her soft kiss. "See? Look, you're getting excited again already."

I glanced downward. Jo wasn't kidding. Already my prick was stirring. "Who needs Viagra when you've got plastic?" I joked.

Joanne's laugh was loud. "Oh yessss…" she gasped. "You're so right! Oh, Eddie… I'm so glad that I met you!"

"Me too…" It was amazing how quickly I'd returned to Heaven.




bondage gallery 1

bondage gallery 2

bondage gallery 3

bondage gallery 4
Welcome Isis Love to Device Bondage, you have seen her here as a co-top but never as a "sub". Device Bondage is the only place on the net that you will see Isis "subbing" at this time.

So lets get this, beautiful, perfect, amazing girl, naked spread, and helpless. Chains are good, they hurt if you struggle. Back arch is good, it makes the girl more vulnerable, and uncomfortable.

After some breast flogging and pussy whipping, it was time to make this Goddess cum. Three fingers in, brutally hitting the "G" spot, the vibrator on high, directly on her clit. Seconds later the most intense screaming, squirting orgasm we have ever seen. Isis came and didn't stop cumming, it seemed to last for ever. The primordial scream from hell, the cum gushing out of her pussy in buckets, it has to be seen to believed.

"I want you, Eddie…" Joanne moaned. "I'm so horny now. Please… fuck me now."

I needed no second invitation. My dick was already standing to attention again. This time I didn't have to look. I was so ready for her. Was I ever!

"Come on!" Joanne peremptorily pulled me along and I unprotestingly followed with a loud rustle and crackle of vinyl. This was just … not … happening. This was the kind of thing I only read about in Penthouse letters but a hundred, a thousand times more incredible. Boy meets girl – nothing unusual about that. But what if she loved plastic raincoats as much, if not more than me? And she lived less than a kilometre away from my small pad up on the hill. I had no idea what the odds were – but they had to be long indeed.

At first glance, Joanne's bedroom was much like any other young woman's private boudoir- prettily feminine, a big dresser (housing lots of cosmetics), even bigger stereo system, untidy and thoroughly lived in. It was a warm room, a comfortable room and I instantly felt at home. Her huge king sized bed was… Oh my God… I could not believe what my eyes were telling me. There wasn't anything unusual about the soft white doona coverlet thrown across her bed. I'd never seen a bed with soft, clear plastic pillowslips or a mattress cover though.

"I can't sleep without plastic," Joanne muttered, clearly uncomfortable about allowing someone such an intimate glance into her world.

I sympathetically nodded before smiling. "I don't mind though," I replied.

"Oh Eddie…" Joanne sighed, wrapping her arms around me again and caressing the great dome of plastic covering my hair. "My dearest darling Eddie." She gazed into my eyes. "I'm just so glad that I've finally met someone who understands!" Without giving me a chance to reply, she happily prattled on: "The last time I brought someone home, he took one look and said, 'I'm out of here!'" Her eyes clouded over with a sadness I hadn't seen before. "He called me weird," she said in a small, sad voice.

"Well, I don't think you're weird," I immediately replied and the look on her face told me that I'd said the right thing. "You're very normal. Lots of people do like this kind of thing – it's just that no one talks about it publicly."

Joanne held me like a balmy summer evening. "I knew when I first saw you that you were the one for me." her sigh was a dreamy lullaby. "I just knew that we were meant for each other."

Less than five hours ago I'd been so lonely. Now I was holding a beautiful girl in my arms. I couldn't remember the last time that my heart ever felt so full. Never mind that we'd met in fairly unconventional, even bizarre circumstances, the main thing was that I finally had a woman in my life now – and it all felt so easy, so natural. Even the gushy sweet talk was coming easily. "Sometimes you find love when you least expect it," I replied.

"Oh absolutely," Joanne breathed before pulling me down with her on the bed. The soft, clear plastic mattress cover was unbelievably smooth to the touch and I felt my penis instantly harden again as soon as my fingers touched everything just before Joanne swept me up in her arms again. She was all over me now, showering kisses on my lips and cheeks. Although I'd never been to bed with anyone before, again I was surprised how easily everything was coming while I ecstatically responded in kind. Joanne's roaming hands were everywhere and I couldn't help groaning as she gripped my buttocks again before moving upward. My catsuit was virtually a second skin as the sticky plastic clung wetly to my skin. It felt just sooo good! Her tongue was a darting devil, wrapping itself around mine as we kissed hungrily, deeply as if our lives depended upon remaining locked together as long as possible.

"Oh Goddd, oh my Goddddd… I want you, I need you so bad!" Joanne moaned. She was grinding her hips against mine and only the thinnest layer of plastic separated my aching cock from her crotch. "I'm so wettt now!! Please fuck me now!"

She disentangled herself long enough to undo the zipper so that I could access her crotch before doing mine. While I disbelievingly watched, Joanne reached inside before pulling my plastic panties down and gripping my penis. I couldn't believe how big, how hard I was as Joanne breathlessly pulled it out. I'm not small but my swollen, excited member never seemed larger. The tip of my dick was a swollen, angry purplish-red and as I stared a dribble of pre-come oozed out of the centre.

"Oh wowwww… You're so big," Joanne breathed, clearly delighted with the size and bore of my weapon. She grinned full into my face before leaning downward and licking the head of my penis. I almost lifted myself off the bed as Joanne slowly ran her tongue downward. I'd watched my share of blue movies as a callow teenager but… I'd never dared imagine that anyone would do this to me! I just couldn't stand the incredible tingling as Joanne unhesitatingly licked me before… actually taking everything inside her mouth. I could only watch and groan as her tongue slowly swirled around the swollen, tender head of my manhood.

There I was lying on my back while this incredible plastic-clad girl gave me the first blowjob I'd ever received. The vinyl hood covering Joanne's hair glistened and shone beneath the warm glow of the bedside lamp while her head bobbed up and down with an almost metronomic rhythm. Joanne was really sucking hard now. The devilish tingling was just about unbearable as she rolled her tongue around my ultra-sensitive glans before boring downward and deep-throating me again. It was a bit like masturbating myself but a million times nicer!

It was only with the greatest of self-control that I didn't come then and there. Perhaps Joanne sensed that I was ready now for she abruptly withdrew before pulling me around until I was all but lying on top. "Fuck me now… please fuck me hard!" she ordered.

I hesitated before gingerly pushing forward. I'd never made love to anyone before and I didn't really know what to do. The last thing I wanted was for Joanne to laugh or ridicule me so I stubbornly pressed onward. How did I… go about making love to her?

Joanne's expressive face was surprisingly tender. She didn't say anything, instead gently gripping my tumescent organ and guiding me deep within a completely new world. I'd never imagined anything could be this soft or warm. My penis was being gripped by a giant fist, which gently squeezed everything just after entering her. The unbelievable, exquisite pleasure was so great that I couldn't help crying out and she grinned.

"Feels good doesn't it?" she smiled, wrapping her arms around me with another intoxicating crackle of plastic.

"Oh yes…" I breathed as my overload brain adjusted to the delicious new sensations flooding my body.

"Please… fuck me now," Joanne groaned before thrusting upward. "I want you, I need you so bad."

Unsure how to go about satisfying Joanne, I hesitantly withdrew before pushing downward. A sudden loud squeal from Joanne told me that I was on the right track. "Ohhh… Oh! That feels so good! Faster please!"

Encouraged, I thrusted harder.


fetishnation presents:
clamped gaggged in corset
tied in latex
crotchrope corset
rope tied in garter belt

"Yes! Oh yesss…" Joanne moaned as she kicked and bucked beneath me, grabbing my plastic-covered arse tightly with both hands and hanging on as if her life depended on remaining locked together as long as possible. I'd begun to find my rhythm now and I pumped in and out of the girl I now loved. Incredibly it wasn't long before I discovered that the harder I banged Joanne, the better it felt. I was barely aware of the sticky, sweaty plastic sticking tightly to my body as I drove inwards then outwards with increasing abandon. All I could think about was… coming again.

"YEEESSS! Like that!" Joanne screamed. "Fasterrr! Harder! Please don't stopppp baby!"

A tingling of a totally different kind was consuming my throbbing, aching cock and I redoubled my efforts, sensing that I was on the verge of something very special. Suddenly the tingling soared out of control. I vainly tried to hold on as long as I could but it was just impossible. With a sudden, incredible, explosive rush, I came with the force of a volcano, my jism squirting all the way inside Joanne, filling her to overflowing. The relief was so incredible that I couldn't help crying out again just as she screamed, "Ohhh, OHHH!! Oh my GOD! I'm coming………"

Suddenly exhausted, I collapsed atop Joanne. Now I knew why so many men would say – or do anything – in order to achieve the same exquisite sensations and sense of relief that I'd just experienced. A wonderful sense of wellbeing was already stealing over me as we rested in each other's arms.

"Dearest Eddie…" Joanne was all smiles. "That was so good. You're a real stud. Are you sure that this was your first time?"

I grinned. There could be no greater compliment than being told that I was it in bed. Her lavish praise was balm to my soul. "My dearest darling… I dunno what happened But… it just felt right with you."

Joanne glowed. "That was just the best ever!" she gushed before kissing me hard. "That was just so special for me. Honestly… I'm so glad that I met you."

"It was very special for me too, my darling." I knew that I would remember tonight – especially this moment all my life. I wonderingly gazed down onto the glowing face of the lovely girl lying below me. The plastic hood covering Joanne's hair was very shiny and I tenderly ran my hand down the smooth sides, knowing that it was what brought us together. Had it really been only six hours ago? Already I felt almost as if we'd been together forever.

"I really think we were meant for each other," she murmured. "Don't you, my darling?"

"I could not agree more," I happily replied before gingerly shifting position. My semi-hard dick was still inside Joanne and I didn't want to pull out yet.

"I like the way your cock feels," she sighed. "I felt so full when you were big earlier."

"It was absolutely wonderful…" I breathed.

"It was wonderful for me as well," she gurgled before pulling me close and hugging me so hard that I could hardly breathe.

"I hope… that there will be lots more times like today," I carefully replied.

"Oh! You just said it, baby! Me too!" Joanne happily exclaimed. "And we will wear our raincoats all the time and…"

I nodded agreement as the funny feeling in the pit of my stomach returned. It was only fleeting however, as Joanne took my lips in hers, kissing me hard again. I couldn't remember the last time I'd ever felt as content or happy as we cuddled in each other's arms. It was a very special level of intimacy I'd never realised existed. Just lying in each other's arms after making love… it was so special and I wished that the moment would last forever.

I was still hot and sweaty but I hardly noticed or cared as the hours flew past in a glorious daze.

Charlotte Vale has this delusion that if she suffers enough it will earn her something from Cyd Black. That is not the way it works. Maybe if he finds her pain hot enough she will get the chance to take his cock into one of her holes. If he decides he wants to see her cum then he will make it happen, but a sadist like Cyd is much more interested in making her cry.

Inside the barn he canes her to tears. He spreads her cunt with a rubber cock and slathers her clit with icy-hot. She spends some time in the great outdoors, kneeling naked on the bare ground. The rocks embedded in the dirt work their way into her shins and knees. She longs for him to come back and release her but it does not work out the way she wants. When he returns he does not bring the promise of freedom, just painful clips to pinch all over her body.

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