Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Ms Mackay's Grand Day Out

by Ludwig

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© Copyright 2012 - Ludwig - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; latex; catsuit; rainwear; boots; outdoors; mast; climax; cons; X

There was almost something unsettling about how silence swept in when the incessant rain hammering down on the windowsill suddenly ended. A few birds hiding under whatever was available cleared their throats, but like every other living creature around, they kept a wary eye on the sky in case the fat, black clouds should spring another leak. Something which they kept doing day and night this early summer.

She was lucky after all, she thought. It was a good call to postpone most of her holidays until Christmas, even if the bosses grumbled like hell. The Biggest Boss had obviously decided to soak the whole country before the wretched Summer Olympics, and more than a few of her colleagues- the ones who hadn’t fled the country- had decided to pull the plug on any holiday plans and stay dry and relatively happy in the office. Business was so slow this season, it was like walking through the Department of Total Inactivity at any time of the day.

While occupying herself trying to remove biscuit crumbs and other strange particles lodged in her keyboard with a strip of plastic, she began wondering what to make of the upcoming weekend. In this weather, she didn’t expect anyone to stop by and say hello without flotation devices attached to their cars. Shopping was right out for the same reason, and the sheer fact that she had much less to spend than she thought only a week ago.

The nice rural town she had settled in seemed to turn to a hollow and empty Potemkin village whenever the weather was too horrible even for the most hardened dog walker. There wasn’t even a nice pub to nip off to any longer, and even if there still had been, she didn’t feel like spending too much time in a public place without an inflatable raft and a couple of flares.

No, she had better come up with something a bit more fun than warming the sofa while poking her toes in front of the TV. She had read somewhere that it was quite a mental stimulation to be bored every once in a while, but by now she was bursting with pent-up frustration.

Karen looked out the window as she heard the drumming of another downpour break the silence, turned the keyboard upside down and slammed it repeatedly against her desk.


‘Remember last year? They called it a “super spring” in the Mirror, you know...’

She snapped out of her daydreaming as the jarring voice of the woman walking beside her cut through the sound of the breeze playing over the grasslands. More clouds were gathering to the west, and within a few hours, there would be more rain.

‘Well, so far it’s been...’ she tried, but got no further before there was a loud hoot next to her right ear.

‘Oh, would you look at that!’

Not knowing where to look, she followed the length of the wiry arm extended two inches from her face and peered right into the hazy sky.

‘Herons! But why are they flying in that direction? Shouldn’t they be heading up north?’

Karen could fully understand why every living creature within earshot fled in every possible direction. Old Ivor’s wife had a voice that could wake the dead, and there was really no need to try to have an answer ready. She ran the conversational bit all by herself.

The third member of the party was silently watching the world go by from her seat in a buggy, pushed by her proud grandmother who was currently doubling as foghorn. Karen admired the baby for being so stoical, but suspected that bad hearing ran in the family.

Mrs. Roberts had emerged out of nowhere as Karen was strolling along the lane leading down to the waterfront, pulled up beside her and opened up her natter box right away. There was no escape, and the little walk she had decided to take to scout the area had turned into an involuntary exercise in selective perception, which was clearly not within her area of expertise.

This was, she thought, her first prambush. Something the mothers themselves rarely did, but left to the next of kin to try out on innocent bystanders and passers-by who showed even the remotest interest in the new person they carted around searching for someone to assault. Perhaps this was the incentive she needed to take up running again.

As they reached the end of the path on a sandy hill overlooking the sea, Karen helplessly witnessed how Mrs. Roberts tried to remove the cute little bonnet from the baby’s head. Sometimes it could be quite disturbing to see how parents tried to make their kids look like cuddly animal toys by dressing them up as pandas or bunnies, but luckily, the children didn’t seem to bother too much about it. This baby girl obviously fancied her outfit so much that she wouldn’t let anyone touch it without letting them know how she felt, by doing what baby girls do best. At least, Karen thought, the crying seemed to stem the continuous flow of loud nonsense quite efficiently, giving her enough time to figure out an escape plan.

‘Oh, great...’ she sighed, patting her empty pockets. ‘It’s in my other coat. I’d better get back home before they start wondering where I’ve gone.’

‘Your phone?’ Mrs. Roberts asked, picking the baby up. It seemed like she was looking for an “off”-switch. ‘Don’t you ever get some time off, poor thing? You know, Maris has begun hiding her hubby’s gadgets just to make him settle down. He’s always working, that man.’

‘Is that right?’

Karen forced herself not to finish the sentence by asking if it worked. Driving people insane was obviously common practice in the family.

‘You really should find some time for yourself, I always say...’

‘I’m trying, Mrs. Roberts.’ Karen smiled, trying not to run as she turned around. ‘Tell Ivor I said hello.’


Back in the relative safety of her own home, she tried to shake the notion of just forgetting all about what she had planned. It would be such a pity to give in this easily. In order to convince herself, she padded into the kitchen where a gleaming mass spread over the table was waiting for her. It had taken her quite some time to choose what to wear, and to put it all back again now would simply be depressing. She sighed and dug her fingers into the heap. The unmistakable smell itself was enough to light a tiny flame somewhere deep inside her, and she had missed it for such a long time now. She rarely had any time to have fun nowadays, she thought. Things always got in the way, but now there were no real excuses not to indulge in some more interesting things than chasing dust bunnies around the house. The cool rubber against her hand made a slight, slithering sound and seemed to welcome her touch, and she sighed deeply. No, it would take a lot more to stop her from going through with this.

She saw no point in waiting much further. All her clothes including the knickers with the horrible panda print, which were indeed comfy but nothing she would dreaming of showing off, went straight into the laundry basket. The short dash back into the kitchen was surprisingly chilling, and she almost slipped on the floor as she hurried to get dressed for the occasion.

Karen chuckled at the thought of the last time she had tried to wear rubber outdoors. Mrs. Roberts rant about last year’s “super spring” wasn’t too far off, and that Saturday had been a real scorcher. Out of sheer curiosity, Karen had slipped into a pair of quite sturdy black tights before heading out into the small garden in the back, to see if something actually still wanted to grow in there. Even if they still fit really well despite a stone and a half of extra Karen inside them, she instantly regretted her move once she got out in the sun. After less than ten minutes, she had promptly disregarded the hosepipe ban and turned the water on full to avoid sudden heat stroke. She still recalled the feeling of instant relief, and how the cold water had tickled her in a very interesting way through the rapidly cooling rubber, once she had figured out how to handle the nozzle without spraying herself repeatedly straight in the face.

 However, it wasn’t only the sensation of being baked that had made her decide to attempt any further excursions only when the weather was slightly less tropical- the entire season turned out to be less suitable for that, which was very unusual- but the fact that her little garden outing became a little more public than she had wanted. In a sudden moment of inspiration, she had tried to flush out some of the stickiness by stuffing the hose into the tights. The ballooning effect was rather spectacular, but the cold rush had made her sneeze uncontrollably, which attracted the unwanted attention from the kids on the trampoline on the other side of the fence.

All right, she thought, they had no problem with the neighbour lady clowning around in shiny trousers, but their mum would probably have raised her hairline a few inches. She had waddled back into shelter without thinking of draining the trouser legs first.

Well, this time there wouldn’t be any overheating issues, bouncing kids or even nosy dog-walkers. By the look of it, it would be like walking under a giant, upturned bucket in less than an hour.


Layers. That was the trick. To keep reasonably warm and snug in the downpour, she had dug out an old, flimsy transparent catsuit to wear underneath. It didn’t flatter her figure at all, and had a few curious brown stains here and there. Ideal for something like this, she thought as she fiddled with the front zipper.

Karen caught herself humming a silly little tune as she deftly slid into the suit.

‘What’s next, then?’ she mumbled. ‘Talking to the flowers?’

It turned out to be a little difficult to pull the zipper past the result of eating between meals, and the fact that her fingers were slick after being too generous with the lubricant didn’t help much, but she managed to hold her breath long enough to succeed.

‘Please don’t split now, you bastard.’

She felt like a javelin thrower warming up as she stretched her limbs to see if it would, but the only result of her impromptu aerobics was that the suit gave her a nice, slithery welcoming hug all over. Now she remembered why she had kept it even if it looked a bit drab. If she could keep from looking in the mirror, it was not bad at all.

It was already getting a bit hot, and she smiled at the feeling of tiny droplets trickling down the small of her back as she sat down again. To avoid getting too many stains on the floor, she quickly donned a pair of short, black stockings and elbow length gloves. In contrast to the transparent suit, these were thick enough to take quite a bit of abuse. Karen moved her toes about while trying to figure out what song she had picked up, keeping an eye on the darkening skies outside.

‘Well, well...’ she sighed, stifling a yawn.

The fluffy drowsiness creeping up on her was one of the curious side effects of dressing up in rubber nowadays. When she was younger, she thought, it had been like lighting a bloody afterburner. Woe betide the poor bugger who denied her satisfaction, or disturbed her in the middle of any form of inventive self-pleasuring back then! Now, her system sometimes seemed to be skipping a few steps to head straight for mushy afterglow. The tiger had become a well-fed old tabby. Not that it mattered much to her, but right now she would have preferred to stay clear-headed at least a while longer.

Even if it was probably going to get a little bit moist and sticky while waiting for the right moment to sneak outside, it was best to get fully attired before she buried her face in the black heap on the table and fell asleep. She got to her feet and unfolded the next item of choice.

Karen wondered where she got the idea from to order a pair of riding breeches. She hadn’t even as much as looked at a horse since she was thirteen, but there was something about the look she absolutely couldn’t resist. They were nicely crafted full-seat breeches, with slightly heavier gauge rubber in the business area, which meant that they probably did what it said on the box, pitch black, and with such a heady smell that she easily could use them as a blanky when she felt like it. She smoothed over a few matted spots and held them up to admire them. Pity there was no one around to impress...or intimidate.

Stepping into them was much easier than expected. Some air got trapped in the flared bits around her thighs, and she amused herself with squeezing it out for a moment.

‘Fun for the whole family.’ she chuckled, reaching for the next garment.

The jogging top was a great find, Karen thought as she flung it on. If the weather had been slightly less awful, the smoky grey, loose fit jacket had been excellent to wear as an outer layer together with the matching trousers that she chose to spare today. It was unassuming enough to pass for ordinary leisurewear, and very nearly as practical as it was comfortable. She remembered trying the set for the first time watching a rugby game on the telly. Silky smooth and ice cream proof. Not half bad.

A few heavy drops hit the window, and the kitchen went dark in an instant. She looked down on the three things she had left to put on and clicked her tongue. Draped over the back of a chair was £500 worth of shiny, black rubber. A ¾-length trenchcoat she had worn only a few times despite the promises that it would last forever if she took care of it, plus a matching sou’wester lying next to it on the table. That, she had never dared wearing when going out, even if it didn’t seem too silly on a day like this. To go with that, a pair of black wellingtons that stood on the floor waiting for her to put her feet in. These were handmade in Denmark and not exactly the cheapest alternative around, but Karen liked the way they looked and how they felt. She was at least able to walk in them without turning her feet into doner kebab, which was often the case with other boots when it was a bit moist.


Her experienced fingers, slightly hampered by the gloves, tried to make some sense of her hair while she pondered whether she should add a bit more spice to the whole thing before stepping out in the rain. She had never big a big fan of stuffing herself full with toys of all kinds; anal plugs made her bum go numb- or sore- no matter how they were made, and dildos were only all right if she didn’t have to walk or sit on a flat, hard surface.

The thought of riding a motorbike with one of those lodged inside her made her smile, but now, since her only option was an ordinary bicycle...No, that would not be very pleasant. She supposed that sort of fun could wait until later.

Before venturing out in the rain, Karen spent a few minutes in front of the hall mirror. She had to confess that the outfit made quite an impression. The sou’wester added a bit of serial killer touch, but it didn’t look too bad on her, after all. If she tied it under her chin, there was no chance that anyone would recognise her, either. The best thing was perhaps that she still could move about without feeling too awkward. It was a bit heavy, and noisy, but despite all the clomping and rustling she didn’t doubt that it was possible for her to jump a fence or two if necessary. Could come in handy.

Closing the back door behind her, Karen was surprised to find that the downpour was less icy than she had expected, but guessed that it would feel a lot colder in only a few minutes. Her plan was to sneak out through the garden, follow the narrow path across the road and head into the forest. If everything seemed okay, she would try to find her way down to the little place by the sea via the same route she had followed earlier.

The unmistakable face of Jimmy Carr flickered past on a TV screen behind a curtain. Her neighbours were hiding from the weather, quite naturally, and no one would ever think of looking in her direction. She relaxed and trotted away with swishing steps along the narrow path.


This was getting fun, Karen thought. Above her, the sky glowed ominously in violet and grey and the rain seemed to queue up to get to the ground. Under her feet, the forest floor was slowly turning into quagmire. She tried to stay on the footpath, but it was hard to stay out of the puddles. Maybe she was a bit silly to nip out like this, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible late in the evening, but...

She giggled a little to herself. Even though it was quite harmless and childish to jump around in the mud, there was something more to the feeling of being out here on her own. Of course, what she wore added a great deal to the excitement. The rubber kept her warm, all right, by she felt far from dry right now. The catsuit moved around on its own on her skin, and the gentle, moist squeeze made her feel supple as she carefully tread over treacherous roots, seeking out the next spot that looked interestingly wet.

What she had not expected was the noise the raindrops made on her sou’wester. It was like having pebbles poured over her head. It wasn’t too bad, she thought. It was nice to feel the rain as well, but she wondered how heavy it would get since she actually could feel it though three layers of rubber. Nearly every drop came hammering down on her, and she was glad she hadn’t settled for less than the proper raincoat.

There was an old bridge across a canal leading to a chalk pit not far from town, and normally it was not difficult to cross it at all. Now, however, Karen had to brace herself before stepping out on it. Underneath her, the canal had swollen immensely, and in the gloom, it didn’t look nearly as picturesque as usual.

‘Could bloody well swallow me whole...’ she hissed as she carefully set one foot before the other on the creaking planks. Luckily, she thought, she hadn’t gone for the idea of wearing anything else on her head other than the sou’wester drum kit. Having to watch her step through the fogged up lenses of a gas mask wouldn’t have been ideal right now. Growing old and careful sometimes paid off, even if it...

There was a searing, white light cutting through the haze over the sea. Lightning. Karen missed the last step and nearly went head first into the heather. She managed a soft landing in the mushy undergrowth and swore under her breath.

Here was another plus with being waterproofed, she thought as she got to her feet and brushed a few unidentified brown things off her trousers. You didn’t get all soaked if you fell over, and puffy flares cushioned any blow to the rear section. Then, the smelly bits didn’t stick and you could it leave it to the rain to wash it off. Brilliant.


Once she had found a good spot on a small hill overlooking the sea, she made herself comfortable in the long grass and decided to watch the show. Another bolt lit up the horizon, and thunder came rolling in from far away.

‘Bring it on.’ she whispered, not too convinced it was such a great idea to challenge whoever was in charge of all this.

It was fascinating just to sit in the middle of a storm, hidden in the grass and protected from head to toe. Karen could still the fluffy fuzziness lingering within her, but the drowsiness was long gone. She began fantasizing about how it would be to make love out here, just like this. It would take some careful planning and some coordination, but other than that, it would be an interesting thing to try.

Karen was more than a bit surprised by how aroused she was beginning to feel. The occasional icy spray blowing straight into her face kept her from drifting too far into the pink mist, but her hands seemed to have a mind on their own and started wandering up under the coat. The fact that it was a bit hard to reach the itchy spots only served to make matters worse. Her gloved fingers were slippery, the fine latex of her jacket folded up to a bulky barrier and the reinforced patch on the breeches was like wearing a chastity belt. And there was no crotch zipper.

Her problems with the lack of access literally blew away when the wind picked up and threatened to snatch her sou’wester off her head. She saw how the sea had turned almost white near the shore, and how the clouds rapidly swept in, nearly touching ground. Then, she could hear the thunder again. Much closer this time.

‘All right,’ she squeaked, scrambling to get to her feet. ‘no need to get all Wagner now, dear.’

The sky lit up once again, and she swore she could hear the crackle of the lightning. Once, when she was only a young girl, she had watched an electricity relay station near Huddersfield collapse after a failure. This display was enough to make her remember how it felt to be a little too close for comfort, and she tried to convince her feet not to start running.

Instead of heading the same way back as she came, she decided to take a safer route over the hills. It would take a while longer, but she knew a short cut across the fields not far from her street. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too dark by then. Karen had a feeling that those grounds could be a bit tricky, and even if a little more mud wouldn’t make any difference, she definitely did not want to get stuck in the muck until next morning.


A piece of cloth tied to a twig marked the spot where she knew she could pass through the thicket without getting speared by pointy shrubs, and she nearly dived through the wet leaves to escape from the storm that seemed to chase her. Even though she felt a little frightened, there was still a little smile on her face.

It really was getting dark, she thought as she reached the end of the field. Street lights glittered like beacons on the other side, but before her was a blackish green mass she had to cross. She found her spare key ring deep down in her left front pocket and fished it out. There was a tiny LED torch on it, which she sometimes used to localise difficult key holes, and things she had lost between the front seats in her car. Perhaps it would help her out?


The thin beam highlighted a bird’s nest on the ground three feet away, but not much else. She decided to rely on her fairly limited night vision instead.

‘I’ll only lose the bloody keys somewhere.’ She mumbled and put the key ring back. ‘Here goes...’

It was surprisingly easy to navigate through the field. The only thing she had missed was that it was hard work to plod through the dissolved dirt. By now, Karen was getting really sweaty under her protective layers. Perhaps, she thought, this was better than running if she wanted to lose a few pounds. It certainly wasn’t half as boring. She knew there were a pair of old waders hidden away somewhere in the garage. With a fly rod and a tackle box, she could pass as a keen enthusiast on her way to the nearest stream, and splosh about as much as she wanted without attracting too much attention. If someone should wonder about what she wore underneath...Well, she could come up with something about black and sparkling rubber being such a great lure for fish, couldn’t she? Otherwise, wearing pink would do the trick. No one asked a woman anything if she wore something tight and pink. Or transparent.

Karen imagined people running away from her if she showed up in see-through latex. Perhaps that was the only efficient countermeasure against prambushing grannies. She made a mental note of it as she slid to a halt where the grass suddenly ended.

The ditch in front of her had undergone the same transformation as the formerly charming canal. Now, there was a murky river instead. The planed logs that normally could carry a tractor across the ditch had nearly been submerged, and were barely visible in the dark.

She was not going to give up only a few yards from home, she thought, tentatively stepping out on the makeshift bridge. It was slippery, but she would make it if she was careful enough. Slowly, Karen edged nervously forward, trying not to look down.

Instead of trying to find foothold on the soggy, grassy and recently formed riverbank, she decided to leap to safety further up. Probably not the brightest of ideas, she thought, aiming for a spot on the slope on the other side. Anyway, tottering about until she fell over was not an option either.

All went well until she tried to straighten up after rather a soft landing in the grass.

‘Oh, bugger...’

For a second or two, Karen managed to stay upright with her arms flailing about like a demented scarecrow, and then the ground disappeared from under her soles.


 Somehow, her body responded in a strangely feline way when she started sliding backwards, and she tried to use claws she did not have to grab hold of something. Her wet gloves proved to be entirely frictionless against the green mush, and with locked brakes on all four limbs, she ended up in the frothy water.

The great splash and the ensuing panic when her trusted armour threatened to drag her down into the black void did not occur. The gurgling sound as she plunged feet first into the ditch was more like that of a weighed down toy rubber boat that was sinking. Karen found herself standing firmly on a few flat stones, chest deep in fairly fresh-smelling water. Air escaping from her trousers and jacket bubbled happily around her.

She thanked her lucky star before resorting to moaning hopelessly as she felt a cold trickle down her belly. The trousers didn’t let anything through, but the front zipper of the catsuit was as watertight as a sieve. She reached out and steadied herself by grabbing on to the dodgy log on her left and plunged her right hand down to remove the wellies before they came off and disappeared. Her movement caused even more water to seep inside her suit, but she had no choice.

Hoisting herself up on land, with the precious boots firmly clamped in her hand, made Karen feel like some sort of bog diver.

‘Waders, right? Sod it.’ she spat, crawling up the slope on all fours. ‘Next time I’ll borrow a bloody drysuit.’

Here was another good thing with being picky about the gear, she thought as she finally dared standing up straight. The heavy stockings she wore obviously worked really well even on grass and gravel without any risk of tearing. Not bad. Now, she could empty her pockets and boots without freezing her feet off. She took extra care to look for any nasty creatures that could have sneaked in. It wouldn’t be too nice to bring any frogs or leeches inside.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, Karen could feel the cold biting her skin. The impromptu swim had soaked her from the inside out, and now she hobbled hastily towards the path leading to her garden. When she was about to cross the road, she froze in mid-step out of pure surprise.

Out of the virtual curtain of pouring rain, she witnessed a yellowish lycra shape pedalling towards her on a cross country bike with a flickering blue light on the handlebar.

‘Ohoy, hoy.’ said the shape, raising a hand as it came closer. ‘Choice weather for a stroll, wouldn’t you say?’

Karen managed a weak “hello” and waved back at the ghost cyclist passing by. The whole situation was so bizarre, she couldn’t keep from laughing. The man on the bike looked over his shoulder and fired off a big smile as he picked up the pace again. Despite that she was shivering with cold, she felt a warm surge of embarrassment flow through her as she recognised him. There were a couple of lads from New Zealand who had stayed here during the winter season, making surfboards and stuff at Mackerson’s down the road. This was the one called Tim, she thought. Out of their heads, the both of them.

So what if he knew her face from somewhere. She would gladly have hitched a ride on his carrier- not that he actually had one, but anyway- to get inside and into the shower a little quicker. For a while, she tried to see where he was going, but gave up as another flash turned the street into a black-and-white lithography.


The warm, welcoming light inside her house felt like such a relief. It meant that the water heater was still working, and that she was able to actually see something. Squelching down on the floor, Karen fought to get her drenched boots off again and turned them upside down to dry on an old umbrella and a broom handle.

Leaving a wet trace behind her, she made it to the bathroom where she began to undress. To her surprise, there was hardly any dirt on her black, wet outfit at all. The precious trenchcoat was unblemished, but she took great care to hang it properly before getting the rest of her gear off, as if she wanted to excuse herself for treating it the way she had.

The sou’wester was still on her head when she had peeled the jacket and trousers off, and she thought that she looked quite demented when she passed the mirror. The moist inside the transparent suit formed interesting patterns that moved about when she traced them with her gloved finger. Anyone with the slightest interest in forniphilia would surely appreciate her as a lava lamp, she thought.

Now, the chill had done its work on her, and before she went ahead with anything else, she had to unzip the downstairs region and let nature take its course as well.


Karen nearly broke into a hymn as she slumped down on the throne and relaxed. All the tension evaporated in an instant, and she sent her thanks to higher powers that she had made it back without any major mishaps. Or majorer, as it were, if there was such a thing.

Like a bizarre drover about to have a shut-eye, she leaned slightly backwards and pushed the sou’wester forward for no particulate reason other than she could. It ended up covering most of her face, but she let it stay there. A very familiar warmth was slowly replacing the girlish excitement she had experienced, and instead of just wiping and getting on with what was left to do before she could have a bit of rest, she carefully let her rubbered fingertips touch the spot where the heat emanated from.

A wide grin sneaked up onto her face under the brim as her body instantly responded. Naughty, naughty. Within a matter of seconds, she was already past the point where she could leave herself be, and she had no thought of stopping now. Karen took a deep sniff of the pleasant mix of hair conditioner and warm rubber inside the hat and revelled in the images that emerged in her mind. The gentle pressure and movement of the suit against her skin rekindled the embers even further, and pretty soon she was grunting happily with her hand firmly pressed to her crotch, working away furiously.

What normally took her nearly half an hour to achieve took her by abrupt surprise. She made a feeble attempt to stay seated as all the blood seemed to drain from her head, with her stockinged feet slipping on the wet floor, but her body refused to comply. A strangled noise escaped her when the cramps took hold and forced her down on the floor.

The feeling of the cold, hard tiles against her back seemed to blunt the force of the orgasm, and she swore silently as it left her drained but deeply unsatisfied. She flung the sou’wester across the bathroom and tried to catch her breath while the ceiling stopped spinning. It always ended like this when she was stressed out or upset for some reason; like a roller coaster pretty short on roll, as it were. Karen cupped her gloved hands over her face and groaned like a cat in heat, inhaling her own scent mixed with the thick, enticing odour of her gloves.   

Oh well, she thought as the weird smile returned to her face, there was still plenty left where that came from. No harm in giving it another go. But not on the bloody floor.

With her knees slightly bent, she managed to stagger the few steps into the shower without falling over. Trying to dig her toes into the non-slip mat through her heavy socks as she toughed the first sputtering bursts of cold water out, she grabbed a steady hold of the showerhead and undid the front zipper a few inches.

All of a sudden, she remembered the daft tune she had been trying to kill earlier in the evening; Constant is the Rain. Well, well. Not too much of a stretch on a day like this, she thought, deciding not to pick it up again anytime soon.


As steam slowly began climbing the walls, Karen busied herself with finding out exactly how slippery the inside of her suit could get. It had been quite interesting to play around in the garden with the hose, but this was even better, she thought as she squeezed out another dollop on her breasts and washed it down. The soapy water trickling down her body inside the thin rubber felt like a hundred little fingers tickling her skin. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling a little.

Finally deciding to take care of the unfinished business, she eased herself slowly down on the floor. The bulging suit emptied itself as she stretched her legs, and she was a bit surprised at how much water the thing could hold.

‘Add a tablespoon of baking soda,’ Karen murmured, trying her best impersonation of Nigella; ‘and you’ve got a portable Jacuzzi. Yum.’

Without wasting any more precious time and hot water playing around, she directed her attention to her sex after carefully guiding the crotch zipper past the critical bits. Smiling mischievously at the sensation of the hot drizzle against her most sensitive parts, Karen realised that it was a long time since she had played with the shower. Here and now, there was no idiot brother flushing the upstairs toilet repeatedly, no roommate forgetting to feed the gas meter and no...

‘Oh, hel-lo...’

The lights flickered, and within a few seconds the sound of a runaway train rolled through the house. Looking up, Karen tried to convey the message that she would only need a wee bit more time to finish, and then she wouldn’t give a rat’s arse if the power was out until tomorrow. It seemed to work.

Feeling a bit more audacious, she let the gloved fingers on her left hand slowly slip inside her, leaving only the pinkie and thumb to rest. She took a deep breath as she found the spot she was looking for, and began circling it slowly. It almost worked too well.

The hissing sound of the shower and the rustling, squeaking rubber was suddenly nearly deafening, and the white ceiling above her seemed to move away from her with speed. Biting down hard on the inside of her cheeks, she fought to stay in control, unwilling to let another one slip away from her.

In her mind, she was back on the grassy hill again. Karen imagined a sweet, summery drizzle wetting her down gently, the weight of a body against hers and a soft tongue idly exploring the only spot apart from her face exposed to the weather. She barely felt her heels and the back of her head hit the wet floor repeatedly as her entire body went into spasm again, but this time she managed to stay on top of the waves when she came.

An unexpected soft, warm rush made her arch her back. Karen felt the urge to scream, but she was too short of breath to muster strength for more than a strange, yelping noise.  Something within her suddenly came undone, and a stickiness much hotter than the water flushed past her aching fingers. Oh, that’s better. Finally.

Oh, how she loved the little moments after a climax like that. It was sometimes better than the orgasm itself, even if it could feel like someone had hit her with a tranquilizer dart, leaving her in a slightly bewildered state for quite some time. She had to concentrate to make her limbs do what she wanted them to do, but it was best to get going and clean everything up before it would become too tiresome. It was always best to get things done while she was still nicely sedated.

A fuzzy thought struck her as she wrapped a fresh towel around her head. Perhaps she would bring some toys with her to the office and see if it worked there too? The only problem would of course be that she had to be at it constantly to make things reasonably bearable, and she wouldn’t get much done.

‘Who would notice, anyway?’ she whispered to the mirror. ‘All work and no play...’


A hearty sandwich and two mugs of Lapsang later, comfortably parked in her favourite armchair, Karen felt rather satisfied with how everything had turned out. At least she got something out of it without breaking a leg, and with any luck, she wouldn’t even catch a cold. Besides, how fun would it be to try things like this if there was no room for creative improvements?

She smirked at the thought of teaming up with the thrill-seeker Kiwi lads to see what activities they could come up with to combine with her little specialities. That would probably lead to various insurance issues, but it would at least not be boring. Safe and sound like this wasn’t half bad either, she thought, wiggling her toes inside the woolly slippers. At least not after a healthy excursion to the seaside to lift the spirits a bit.

The old radio next to her started to crackle and whistle, and the dim light in the room blinked worryingly as she heard another distant rumble travel back and forth outside. Karen smiled and lifted her mug.

‘All right then...’ she sighed contentedly. ‘Bring it on.’


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