© Copyright 2015 - anaerobe - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; latex; catsuits; hood; party; fetish; FM+/m; FF/m; domme; bdsm; tease; photo; denial; cons; X
Austin had a bucket list item to address. He’d heard so much about fetish balls & wanted to express his love of latex by coming out of the shadows & wearing it in public. He had acquired a modest collection over the years, as he faced the downhill side of middle age & slid into his senior years, including a couple of good, shiny catsuits & a fair number of hoods, with a variety of zipped closures, stretch over-the-head styles, colors & weights. Having reached the point where he feared growing too old to participate & increasingly fearing regret for his lack of action, he began to make plans.
A local organization advertised on its website that the upcoming event would be the last of its kind. Austin scoured the galleries which pertained to previous events hosted by this group & enviously examined the expressive ornate costumes on smiling, laughing participants he could only wish to party with. What to wear was a tough decision. Austin had a professional image to preserve in his community & he wasn’t the type to display his body without reservation, being somewhat shy & retiring by nature. Austin’s best bet was more or less total enclosure: a catsuit, boots & concealing latex hood. This way, he could preserve his identity, enjoy the wearing of latex, & commune with at least a few like-minded people. It was after all, an event allowing general admission without personal invitation required.
As the date of the event approached, Austin grew increasingly anxious, in an exciting way. He rationalized that no fulfilling effort in life ever occurred without a good dose of adrenaline. He prepared carefully on the day of the event, meticulously polishing his latex suit, hood & rubber boots. Sliding into his familiar, snug rubber wear gave him an enhanced feeling of anticipation, knowing showtime was here. Austin examined his appearance in the mirror, noting an artificially youthful waistline & more sculpted silhouette than he was used to seeing ordinarily. He drove to within 2 or 3 blocks of the party site, parked in an inconspicuous spot, & donned his hood.
Walking up to the club where the ball was to be held, he tried to stay in the shadows, avoiding the bright lights of store windows shining on the sidewalks. A slender, athletic woman who was wearing a shiny latex skirt & corset was walking on the opposite side of the street, & addressed him from across the wide space. At first this alarmed Austin, for he realized his visibility, & the fact that his fetish look was now, for more or less the first time, exposed to public scrutiny on the street. “I must be getting close!” she shouted over at Austin. The novel thought now occurred to him, that instead of being perceived as the freak he expected strangers to see, he was more likely, for a change, actually among friends. “I think so” he replied as he smiled & eyed her with at least a little curiosity. As their paths converged, they spotted a line of outrageously dressed (or undressed) would-be partiers in line to pick up tickets. Austin lost track of his short-lived companion & got in line for general admission.
Out Into A Brave New World
After the requisite security scan for weapons, payment, & the application of adhesive bracelets, Austin entered the main hall of the club. He was thrilled to see such a variety of revealing attire, including bouncy, almost bare breasts & buttocks. The most titillating, though, were the beautiful well shined latex dresses, tall boots & tight waists of the crowd of gorgeous women who had shown up for the event, which included a latex fashion show. Austin’s aim was not so much to pick up a date for the night, as he was more of a sexual tourist, seeking thrills mostly by experiencing “eye candy” & not realistically anticipating much more.
Various people, however, even asked to touch his suit, which Austin was glad to accommodate. It actually was an unaccustomed, pleasurable sensation to feel the hands of strange alluring women, & an occasional TG or masculine character rub his latex provocatively. A couple of people asked where he’d acquired his latex wear, especially his locking collared rubber hood & peace symbol decorated rain boots. Even more attractive women came up, stroked his suit, hugged him, & asked for pictures. Austin felt transformed, younger, & more alive than he had in years, as if he’d arrived in a gathering of soul mates that had been waiting for him silently forever in the shadows of his vanilla existence. He felt euphoric with the sense that he had regained his lost sex appeal. He was no longer an irrelevant, useless, aging relic among youthful revelers – he was part of the fun, or at least it appeared to him.
Truth be told, however, an even more likely scenario was that his total latex enclosure was all these nubile young chicks were attracted to. For all they knew, a buffed Adonis was lurking in his costume. Austin was celebrating the enhancement of a “has been” sense of sex appeal with a shiny store-bought suit, which of course had little to do with his inherent attractiveness to the opposite sex. Had this been a nudist adventure, Austin’s bald pate & paunchy mid-section would not have drawn a pinch or more than a passing look. Although Austin relished the attention & took great pleasure in every touch, it was an exercise in denial of his very real middle aged missing mojo, mental masturbation spiked with the endorphins of delusion.
Austin circulated around the crowd, smiling affably, even though he was one of the few whose identity was protected by his costume. He watched with particular interest two women who entered together after him. One was very animated, with long brown hair & latex horns protruding from both sides of her head, wearing a well shined latex red & black dress with tall black over the knee boots. Her companion was calmer, moved slowly but sexily, clad in a simple but even more form-fitting black matte latex dress which Austin wished he could touch & feel. The second woman was particularly attractive to him, as her facial features were so perfect, with an even, straight nasal bridge, high cheekbones, & a sensuous smile. Her skin was freckled, her hair a deep, honey brown frame to her very photogenic features. He speculated to himself that these women were probably lesbians by their more intimate than casual body language, so he really didn’t expect any contact or opportunity for relationship building.
A Momentary Life Changing Encounter
When the couple approached Austin for a cell phone picture, he gladly agreed, if only to get closer to the alluring women. It seemed they correctly assumed that Austin’s attire was obviously meant to convey his status as their potential sub. As they posed, the lady with horns on her head said, “Let’s show some power. Here, I’ll stick my knee right up into his privates” which she demonstrated as she spoke. “Get on your knees, slave” she commanded Austin, which he awkwardly tried to do without destroying his catsuit on the rough cement floor. As the trio posed, she grabbed his head from behind & pushed his latex hooded face into the crotch of her companion. Austin smelled the enticing fragrance of the smooth, supple latex as he inhaled, drawing the airtight rubber into his nostrils as this most beautiful woman held her pubis tightly up against his eyes, mouth, & nose. He heard the shutter click, feeling sad that this moment couldn’t last forever, & stood, assuming that to remain with his head in this gorgeous woman’s crotch would be presumptuous & overly familiar. “I didn’t tell you to get up!” the woman with the horns objected. Austin agreed, saying, “No, you didn’t”. He was flabbergasted by the whole experience, & couldn’t think of a better way to prolong the encounter. They all had a good laugh, & the alluring couple filtered away into the crowd.
As the evening went on, Austin experienced a sensual feel here & there, not to mention a few good photo-ops with variously latex & fetish clad revelers. He had a good laugh with a twenty-something scantily clad cute young girl he’d been dancing next to, who couldn’t stop laughing at seeing Austin’s concealed identity. Austin asked, & she replied, “I really just hope you’re not my dad!” He enjoyed the body painting, demonstrations of roping, suspensions, whipping, straight jacket striptease, & driving beat of the bands. A pretty blonde domme in a black leather corset & tall boots circled around her sub, delivering random whip strokes & finally posing with her heel in the small of his back. “Wow,” Austin thought to himself, “wish that could be me, under the heel of such a gorgeous dominatrix.” But he just shyly circled around the demo area, watching & wishing.
The evening was just a fantastic novelty, an opportunity to forget about his boring vanilla life, but he had experienced a nagging, growing hunger for the domineering couple in rubber. He searched for them everywhere, but they were nowhere to be found. They’d taken their picture, & he didn’t even have one for his enjoyment. They’d had their moment of fun with him, & were done with him, he reasoned. What he felt & yearned for was of little consequence from their perspective. What happens at a fetish party, stays at a fetish party, he figured. That’s the way it goes. No matter what happens from here on out, he surmised, the event had been a life changing experience, opening his eyes to a new world of intrigue, pleasure, & sincere self-expression among like-minded people.
Distraction By A Futile Obsession
In Austin’s mind, however, his encounter with these two ladies had become the defining moment of his fetish ball adventure. A week or two passed. Austin posted a note on a fetish social network thanking a member who had helped organize the event, describing his experience & in particular, his brief encounter with the latex clad stars of his dreams, who he’d hope to hear from again, at least to obtain a copy of the picture that had now become his obsession. This even led to an online chat with a helpful, alluring dominatrix, Kinkycarolyn, who for a short time became Austin’s fetish muse, or guiding spirit in the search, although she seemed to be more into leather than latex. But no, she didn’t know the ladies Austin asked about.
The official event website posted a gallery of pictures taken at the event shortly afterward. Austin’s hopes were buoyed when he recognized the two he’d posed with –there they were, last photo on the right, bottom line of photos, on page 8 of the gallery, grinning & looking as gregarious as ever. Kinkycarolyn (whose picture on the website revealed her to be the intriguing dominatrix he saw at the party) didn’t recognize them, though, so Austin again lost hope of finding a copy of the picture he craved. Austin posted a personal ad pertinent to his state on the fetish social network site, but got no replies.
Kinkycarolyn had given him the idea, though, of contacting the organization photographer, who had presumably posted the gallery of photos. Jonny Rocket responded promptly, but referred him to another photographer who might have been the one shooting pix of the Dominant Duo. He seemed to only be available on Facebook, however, which was a foreign medium to Austin. “Well, there’s a first time for everything” he told himself, actually creating a new account for the purpose. After all, now he was on a mission. No meaningful leads, though. Adam Masker replied that all the photos he knew of had already been posted on the website. Kinkycarolyn recognized someone from some of the published online photos that Austin had seen talking to the girls he’d posed with, & provided a lead for him. He sent her a personal message on the fetish website, but also to no avail. She had no idea who they were, either. Dead end.
He became frustrated with the fewer & fewer messages from members of the fetish social network. Being touched by such messages was initially stimulating, but got old quickly. He reached out to others in the cloud less frequently, & was quickly forgotten. He felt too inhibited to join in any munches or club activities, becoming more isolated from the community he had hoped would bring him never-ending happiness. The fetish world (including the two latex-clad women of his dreams) wasn’t going to beat a path to his door based on a one-time anonymous party appearance, or a few on-line chats. Those gestures just weren’t enough to create relationships & more or less no-one wants to play with a stranger.
Austin gravitated to other websites where he could blog with others about common interests in latex wear & fetish fantasies, but he was no closer to actively participating in local fetish activities. It’s not 100% true to say he’d become a “shut-in”, but as an absentee participant in the fetish scene, Austin’s sense of fulfillment waned seriously in the months after his first fetish ball appearance. Additional fetish parties open to the public seemed rare, & the “right” one just didn’t come along in the months that followed.
The Moral of the Story
Age, circumstance, distraction, or living in an emotional rut worn smooth by the momentum of habit may all conspire to obscure the endless opportunities that live on our horizons. Carpe Diem! Don’t wait for financial security, lessened responsibilities, or better health to enjoy life – it may be too late by then. As for Austin, he slipped somewhat ungracefully into the sunset of his life, glad that he’d had the gumption to pursue one bucket list item for an evening, but wondering what could have been if he’d more boldly followed his passion sooner.
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