The Pondskippers PART 5

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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swish87
Posts: 10
Joined: August 13th, 2017, 10:50 pm

The Pondskippers PART 5

Post by swish87 » July 27th, 2018, 8:44 pm

I had been at uni for 6 months and I saw an advert for a room to rent on the library notice board. Halls sucked, everyone just drinking and stealing your shit, I had to get a flat but I didn't know anyone in this city. I had moved up from our farm in the middle of nowhere to study agricultural management and all my friends were either still working in the local town or out travelling the world.

So I met the girl who's posted the ad and she seemed really nice, a lot older than me, but if anything it was much better than living with all the freshers. Her name was Kate. She was getting her PHD in marine biology so she lived just down the hill from the campus. I agreed immediately.

Months went by and it turns out that we had alot in common. We'd even been out for a few drinks together to celebrate Kate being offered a job. I felt a little jealous as she was probably my only real friend here and I didn't want her to move away. She assured me that her new job involved a lot of traveling and she'd be away on surveys for days or weeks and she needed someone to mind the flat. I liked to think she only offered so I'd keep making her my famous stovies at the weekends.

So I stayed and made my way through my first year at uni, while she seemed to be in a state of constant jet lag from being called away to different studies all over the world. She most often was sent to the Netherlands, something about some rare oysters in the Wadden Sea.

She never really unpacked and it was usual to see her kit bags and suitcases blocking our tiny hallway during her days off. An empty flat is much easier to clean and the long rubber ‘pond gloves’ Kate brought me back from one of her trips reminded me of calving season when I was younger. I also helped her go shopping and kept her up to date with the uni drama, this seemed to be a welcome distraction from her pouring over graphs and statistics. She never seemed happy unless out 'in the field’ as she called it.

“So I bet you've had loads of boys back here when I'm off?” She asked one night as I was dying her hair, the electric blue staining my shoulder length rubber gloves.
“Shut up!” I said and hid my blush by reaching for another strip if foil.
“No strapping farmer lads?” Kate teased?
“Nope, I've been too busy looking after you!” I giggled as I pulled the last strip out, “I think you're done here.” Kate got up and wrapping her dressing gown around her, made her way to the bathroom to wash the new colour in. Reaching for the shower she called back through to me,
“I think I might need your help in here…” so I walked through to our small bathroom and pushed the door open. Kate had let her dressing gown fall to the floor and was stepping into the shower, she turned and smiled as she ducked under the steaming spray. Her being naked didn't shock me in the slightest, we were both regularly at least half naked when we crossed paths in the bathroom most mornings, but her beckoning me into the shower with one finger did.

I had no idea what to think, was this a thing? Or did she just want me to wash her hair? Was I being an idiot? I was going to assume the latter.

I climbed out of my dressing gown and pulled off my pants, but I was still wearing the long , arm-length rubber gloves which had a velcro fastening at the top to keep them up, fingers stained blue with hair dye. I began to ease them off until a hand reached through the mist and slowly and deliberately pulled me into the cubicle.

Stepping into the shower I felt completely stupid in my cleaning gloves. They made such a noise when the water started to bounce off them! But before I could say anything Kate calmly placed my rubbery hands on her hips and gave them a thump as if to say “don't move buster!”. She then grabbed a bottle of shampoo and held it high above us while upending the whole bottle over us both. The freezing cold liquid ran down our chests and dribbled between our tits before running straight down between our legs. Within seconds we were glistening with creamy, white goo. I yelped as it hit my clit and made me instantly on fire.

Kate threw one arm around my neck and then another around the small of my back and drew me in closer until we were pressed right up against each other, our pert tits smearing the shampoo into a luscious lather. We began to move against each other, slowly at first and then faster as I became aware that my slippery, rubbered hands had moved down between Kate's soapy thighs. I needed to feel her, I needed this. She guided me as I fumbled awkwardly to find her sex, my gloved fingers offering no helpful information. I suddenly felt two fingers slide into her slick vagina. I freaked and stared, wide eyed and terrified at Kate, not believing that this was happening. This is Kate. Kate! I have rubber gloves on, and I'm INSIDE her!

Kate put her hands reassuringly onto my face and kissed me as if nothing in the world mattered more that this moment. This somehow made everything better. I stroked her faster and moved my thumb up to her mound and it slid easily over her throbbing clit. In no time she was gasping under the warm spray, her fingers reaching for something to ground her as she took off. Slipping backwards against the wall I continued to rub harder now, possessed with a unique and terrifying desire to see her come. And come with me.

My other hand had been grinding my own pussy for a while and I was beginning to feel my own orgasm in the pit of my stomach. I wanted at that moment to take these silly thing off my hands but it reminded me too much of wearing my waterproofs back on our family farm as a younger girl. The feeling of protection; the mess of the shampoo, Kate’s wetness, the shower, the noise of the water bouncing off my rubber pond gloves; all while my arms and hands remained completely dry and warm. The feeling you could do anything wearing these things. Confidence. Then I felt it bubble up as we writhed our soapy, slick bodies together. Our lips kissing and exploring each others neck and shoulders, our hair entangled in a mess off electric blue and orange.

We both arrived a exactly the same time. I let out a whimper and let Kate bury her scream in my heaving breasts. We held each in a predators embrace until the last ebb of our shared passion had been washed down the plughole. I finally pulled of my gloves and felt her with my bare hands. Her warm pussy felt amazing.

Things were both more and less awkward now. We weren't a couple per se. We had our fun when Kate got home but we still did our own things, slept in our own beds and we were still ultimately roommates. Kate seemed like she came home full of desire, a horny mess each time she'd arrive back from a trip. We'd hook up, sometimes in the shower as quickly as she could get out of her clothes, sometimes on our couch. But it wasn't making love. Kate needed to be taken care of, in all senses of the phrase. Not long after our first time, Kate stopped mentioning my rent and I gradually stopped paying it. The unspoken recognition of my house-work, both in and out of the bedroom.

Not that I didn't enjoy our arrangement. I couldn't wait for Kate to arrive home, throwing her duffle bags and suitcases in the hall and embracing me as if we hadn't seen each other in months. I just couldn't figure out why she only acted this way when she got back.

One day I was tidying up her room and I noticed a pile of clothes spilling out one of her large duffle bags. Instinctively I picked them up without even looking and I stood for a moment feeling the soft, swishing material between my fingers. It was a matt green, pullover cagoule. Not very fashionable I noted but she probably has them issued to her by the various conservation projects or whatever. Looking back now I can’t believe how I didn’t put this together with our first night in the shower. My only thought then was a horny reminiscing of the times I spent pulling night shifts in the cow shed back home on the farm waiting on the calving mothers…

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