METAMORPHOSIS 3

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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tiger4macs
Posts: 23
Joined: January 6th, 2019, 11:19 pm

METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by tiger4macs » February 20th, 2019, 9:47 pm

METAMORPHOSIS 3
The water changed suddenly from tepid to stone cold and got our immediate, undivided attention. We evacuated the shower with more haste than elegance, laughing and squealing like kids. Sylv rescued the mac, sponged and towelled it off carefully and hung it on a thick hanger to dry fully. We towelled each other, with a lot of horsing around and teasing and giggling. It was a joy to see her laugh again: the tension and intensity of the night had been broken.
She claimed she still wasn’t hungry but I knew she could never resist crispy bacon rashers and a poached egg, and she didn’t. Then she wanted more, so I cooked more. I still hadn’t slept more than an hour or so and the fatigue, relaxing of tension and the big brekky combined to make me drop onto the couch and sleep the sleep of the dead for three hours. I woke somewhat refreshed. It was time for our Saturday lunch at the café down the road, a ritual we always looked forward to. During the meal she ate well – again – and looked absolutely bonny, there’s no other word for it. She glowed with health and the look of the cat that’s had the cream. The sun shafted in and picked out the auburn highlights in her hair, her blue eyes blazed with energy and her tits looked even perkier than they usually did, and that’s no small statement! Also her sense of humour had returned, in spades. GOD I’m so lucky!
“I rang Margy while you were asleep.”
“Did you indeed? And what did she have to say?”
“She had a lot to say, but I don’t think we’d better talk about it here.”
I paid the bill and drove her home, busting to hear what had transpired. It seems that Margaret had been expecting the call, had told Sylvia a lot more about their swingers’ rainwear group and suggested we had dinner together to kick it around further. It was clear that she had handled Sylvia with kid gloves (for which I was deeply grateful) and was allowing her to move things forward at her own pace, with no pressure at all.
That didn’t surprise me. Margaret is a very caring, empathetic lady and a very sensitive reader of moods. At fifty-five she looks a very well-preserved 45 or less. She has a larger frame than Sylvie with a figure to match, but an athletic body that she carries very erect, giving her a most impressive presence. Her dark brown hair is worn in a tidy bob cut, with enough length to frame her wide-open, honest face and broad mouth. Her mid-brown eyes sparkle with the humour that is never far below the surface. Nothing offends or fazes her. Disasters are taken in her stride and simply coped with as necessary. As a professor of anthropology at the university in our town she is well liked and respected; her students worship her. And so does Eric.
So we fronted-up on the Friday night at the appointed hour, presented the obligatory bottle of wine and were treated to a superb, cordon-bleu repast. Margy and Eric are both excellent cooks.
“Sylvia’s heard a lot of this already, but you both need to be clear about what you could be getting yourselves into: this is not a scene for babies, and requires a lot of self-discipline and tolerance. So we’ll start from the beginning” said Margaret.
“First of all” Eric said “a warning about the girl in the restaurant, and all people like her. We do actually know her. Her name is Hayley and I’m telling you she is one seriously hazardous unit. We actually had to make it clear to her that she is not welcome in our group in future. She is in fact quite deranged. She had a big problem with ADHD when at school and created a lot of scenes because she had an insatiable appetite for shocking people. There was absolutely NOTHING she wouldn’t do for max impact, max attention. Nowadays, in her late twenties she has mellowed somewhat but still believes that rules are for other people, not her. Sexually insatiable, she’ll have it off with anything with a cock and the more people watching, the better. I don’t believe she genuinely likes rainwear for itself, but rather because wearing a shiny mac in public scores her lots of men, especially if she makes it very clear she’s wearing nothing underneath, and is AVAILABLE.
“So if you envied her Sylv, don’t. She’s a tragic figure, totally obsessed, totally out of control. If you really want to see her in action, there’s a very discreet club where she performs live porn acts with enthusiastic amateurs for the amusement of members. Go there if you like (we can put you in touch), but you have been warned.”
Sylvia was visibly shocked, and I was shaken to the core. It had never occurred to me that there was such a dark side to what I saw simply as a very pretty girl who wasn’t afraid to flaunt her sexuality.
Margaret, typically, poured some more wine. I sure needed it. Sylvia gulped hers; that was a first! It struck me forcibly that she had come up with quite a few firsts in the last few weeks. There was a sea-change taking place in her, a metamorphosis, and it both thrilled and worried me. People are so complex. Margaret rejoined the discussion:
“Now, before you scurry off home and never speak to us again we’d like to prove to you that it doesn’t have to be like that, that between caring, loving, sharing, sexy, SANE, DISCREET people friendships can progress several steps beyond what is considered ‘normal’ in our society. I say that as an anthropoid ape who is very conscious that ‘morality’ is merely a construct of our society that helps govern and keep the peace, and has nothing to do with the basic instincts of apes generally, including Homo sapiens. So let’s clear dinner away and … er… get to know each other a little better, shall we? No pressure, leave it this time if you want to. We just need to be totally agreed that this matter is TOTALLY, ABSOLUTELY confidential between the four of us. Not a word to anyone else, ever. OK? For one thing my career would be over if this ever got out, because people are so judgemental, but if we have your word that’s good enough for us.”
Her gentle eyes probed ours, searching for – and receiving – our assent.
“Come Sylvie, I’ll help you get ready.” And Sylvia followed her out of the room. “Get your things from the car and…” Her voice trailed off along the corridor. (Her ‘things’? I thought, full of curiosity and anticipation).
Their house, set back from the road among trees about 5 miles out of town, is unobtrusively opulent. Not a penny had been spared in making it tastefully, peacefully comfortable and very private, without a hint of ostentation. And it’s large: it goes on forever. Eric has a successful import business supplying parts, especially friction materials, to the motor trade. We met because we both love fast cars but while I drive a hot little Lotus 7 replica – a Caterham – he has an enormous garage in his basement in which lurk at least 3 classic Ferraris, all of them mint, all of them rare. He led me to a little changing room and told me to strip naked.
“As long as you’re good with it, I intend to seduce Sylvie. If at any time she refuses or you call for it, I have total self-control and I WILL stop, immediately. No argument. Agreed?” I nodded.
We moved through the other door into a long, narrow room that appeared to have been built onto the exterior of the house, which occupied one long wall. The other was totally curtained so I assumed this must be a sunroom, giving onto the large upstairs terrace I’d seen from outside.
Towards the middle of the side wall was a narrow side table with an upholstered half-moon notch in the side. Near that was a small single bed. The only other furnishings were a couple of bucket chairs at either end.

A further door opened and Margaret and Sylvia came in, at which point I abruptly ceased my inspection of the room, for my darling was wearing her black patent thigh boots and a short, glass-clear PVC mac with a big collar, the bodice provocatively stretched by her thrusting, firm breasts. The final touch was a very fetching black PVC rainhat. My pulse went up to maybe 400.

Margaret, resplendent in a beautifully-tailored SBR mackintosh and black patent boots led her to the side table, saying “Remember you can terminate proceedings at any time, and so can Tom. You sure you’re OK?” - “Yes” said Sylvia, tremblingly. Margaret produced a pair of Velcro cuffs from her pocket, and placed my darling in the soft notch in the table, securing her hands to a ring bolt in the tale top. This stretched the mac over her boobs even more, and I almost came right then, say no more! Eric seemed similarly impressed, as well he might, the lucky bastard.

Margaret sat in one chair, motioning me to the other. Eric caressed Sylvia’s breasts, sliding down her sides to her thighs, murmuring compliments as he went. Then he knelt. Looking up, he said “You are going to cum for me sweetheart, and for Margie, and especially for Tom. Do you like that idea?”
Almost inaudibly she whispered “Yes”, and Eric went for her with his tongue.

Looking down at Eric, Sylvie squirmed as he flickered his tongue over her clit, building her desire. He gripped her upper thighs and pressed in more deeply and her face told me he had penetrated her with his tongue. She squirmed harder, restrained by the cuffs, and uttered little stifled cries. But still she dared not lift her eyes to Margy or to me.

Eric upped the pace a little, and was obviously probing more deeply; GOD he was an expert! Sylvia’s breasts were by now heaving, her face flushed and I almost thought she was responding to his thrusts with her hips. She started to cry out, rolling her head and met my eyes, then Margy’s, Her climax was imminent.

Margy smiled a wicked smile at me and touched a button behind her. There was a hum, and the curtains drew back rapidly, revealing…. not the terrace, but a plush room, set out as an auditorium!

Sylvia screamed but she was too far gone. Her orgasm swept over her like thunderous surf as Eric pressed-home his lingual attack. She calmed a little when she realised there was no-one in the chairs but the shattering orgasm was unstoppable, Eric’s ministrations inescapable. He kept her screaming until she begged him to stop. “NO MORE!” she screamed, “I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE, YOU’LL KILL MEEEE!!”. Eric eased back, sitting on his haunches, admiring her. Well he might, for she was a vision of every wet dream a guy had ever had. She looked so stunningly pretty in the wide-brimmed hat, so inflamed with ecstasy that the memory will live with me to my grave.

Finally I had eyes for Margaret. She was waiting for me. She picked up a sou’wester I hadn’t noticed before and, holding my gaze, pulled it on seductively, slowly tying the tapes under her chin. The sight hit me like a thunderbolt. Oddly I had never thought of her as particularly attractive or particularly sexy, but in that hat she looked absolutely ravishing. He eyes blazing, she advanced towards me, her stilettos clicking on the tiles like a clock: “tick, tock, tick…”. She held out both hands, raised me from my chair, led me to the little bed and bade me lie on my back. I did as bid, but nothing on earth would have made my erection lie down! I was vaguely aware that Sylvia and Eric had assumed the chairs but could only think of what might be about to unfold.

Margy looked approvingly at my appendage, took it in one gloved hand and leaned down. Somehow I managed to say “Don’t even think about it! I’ll cum immediately of you do!”

“Well now, that would never do, would it?” she said, but suddenly took the head in her mouth, sucked powerfully and released me. The sight of her in the sou’wester with my cock in her mouth almost realised my threat but she was too quick.

“I think you’re ready for me now, wouldn’t you say?” and she swung a booted leg over me and climbed on board, skilfully impaling herself on me to the very hilt, arranging the full skirt of her mac around us.

“Aaah, that feels lovely. Oh God that feels so good!” and she paused, avoiding stimulating me unnecessarily while I gazed up at her face, framed so sweetly in the large brim of the rainhat.

“I never realised how lovely you would look in a rainhat” I said “I don’t have words to describe –“

“ – well don’t try” she interrupted, “just enjoy the moment.” I hardly needed to be told that.

Very slowly she started to slide to and fro on me, rubbing her clit on my pubis to increase her pleasure but almost shearing-off my member in the process. This was really quite painful but had the advantage of suppressing my impending ejaculation and prolonging the encounter. I was not about to complain: I wanted it go on forever. Margy rubbed her hands all over my arms, shoulders and torso as she rocked to and fro on me.

“I love your gorgeous muscles. You are better than I dreamed!” I was surprised at this. It’s true I had a major bike race in three weeks and was close to peak fitness, but I’m no Arnold Schwartznegger that’s for sure. She flattered me and squirmed on me until I was all but ruined, then leaned down and kissed me deeply, raising her hips a little so I could move. I started to thrust up into her and she responded in kind. This was more like it! Starting more or less from scratch I swelled inside her, building the tempo. Her mackintosh swirled and rustled about us and she started to moan. Her moans grew louder and more strident until we were hurtling towards a major mutual orgasm. I bucked violently and she rode me like a bronco, shouting “Yes, yes, YES, YEESSS!! OH GOD YES, GIVIE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVEITTOME TOM NOOOOWWWWWW!! And we screamed together… came together…. worshipped together….

Slowly the ecstasy subsided and she sank down onto me, breathing heavily, whispering incoherently, caressing my face and arms, finally lying prostrate on me with all her weight, totally relaxed. My raging senses were filled with the wet warmth of her, the mixed aromas of the SBR and her exquisite perfume with just a hint of the delicious Argentinian Malbec from dinner, wisps of her silky hair brushing my cheek, the brim of her sou’wester shading my eyes. I longed for her to stay on me, in my arms, all night. I loved this wonderful, skilful lover, this tender, gorgeous, sexy, funny, strong and desirable lady.

I became aware that Eric and Sylvia had withdrawn but I don’t know when. Margy became aware of it too, and whispered very quietly and rapidly in my ear “Listen carefully: we haven’t much time. That was the most wonderful orgasm I’ve had in years, and in this delicious moment I love you Tom. But we must never, NEVER let that run away with us. Eric has a nasty side to him as well, and if he thought you were more interested in me than an occasional swinging bonk for him to watch, he could get very ugly indeed. Come on now, we need to go. But just know that you are one hell of a lover, and don’t ever doubt it!”

She withdrew from me and rustled out to the changing room. I followed suit to the other one, wondering what the hell to do, for in that delicious climax I had loved her too. Too passionately, and I couldn’t get her out of my head and into perspective. But I knew I had to dissemble any such feelings, for I realised, now, that it would endanger her seriously if I showed any of it. I had often wondered if Eric was really just what he appeared to be: a big, jovial, friendly, peaceable bear of a man with a slight South African accent and a penchant for watching his wife bonk somebody else. Now I knew. And the doubts started setting in.

mrbassman101
Posts: 60
Joined: June 17th, 2010, 10:04 pm
Location: south west england

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by mrbassman101 » February 21st, 2019, 11:14 am

Thank you for Part 3 @tiger4macs , quite thought-provoking as well as very,very sexy ..Can't wait to read Part 4.
Best regards mrbassman101

Mikmac77
Posts: 50
Joined: March 3rd, 2017, 4:51 pm
Location: S.Glos

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by Mikmac77 » February 21st, 2019, 7:37 pm

It looks like problems ahead, excellent story. Please continue

tiger4macs
Posts: 23
Joined: January 6th, 2019, 11:19 pm

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by tiger4macs » February 21st, 2019, 8:38 pm

Cheers guys. My head's filled with sinister directions it could go - that's people, ain't it? - but there is a danger it'll become a dark, miserable narrative of violence, broken relationships and misery. Who needs that? This is about happiness and enjoying sexy rainwear, unless I miss my guess. Your guidance/suggestions/requests would be a great help.
Actually I've often thought, who do we write this stuff for? The readers, or merely to sharpen and focus our own favourite fantasies, to enhance our own pleasure? Both, seems to be the logical answer. "One has one's public to consider, my dear fellow"!! - tiger

Mikmac77
Posts: 50
Joined: March 3rd, 2017, 4:51 pm
Location: S.Glos

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by Mikmac77 » February 21st, 2019, 8:47 pm

You’re right! Who needs doom and gloom? Sexy rainwear, little bondage, good sex. Not forgetting the audience! Who wants anything else???

hotwilly
Posts: 1668
Joined: March 17th, 2011, 9:03 pm
Location: Lincolnshire

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by hotwilly » February 22nd, 2019, 8:03 am

Excellent thought provoking and sexy story
Thank you, please continue with Part 4
Broad minded enough to acknowledge we all enjoy different things:)

tiger4macs
Posts: 23
Joined: January 6th, 2019, 11:19 pm

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by tiger4macs » February 22nd, 2019, 9:33 am

OK Mikmac, I'll try to take it in a direction more appropriate to our fetish. - Tiger

Mikmac77
Posts: 50
Joined: March 3rd, 2017, 4:51 pm
Location: S.Glos

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by Mikmac77 » February 22nd, 2019, 2:51 pm

I'm looking forward to that!! Mikmac

tiger4macs
Posts: 23
Joined: January 6th, 2019, 11:19 pm

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by tiger4macs » February 22nd, 2019, 9:44 pm

Actually, although I said earlier that "I've never written anything like this before" I was forgetting that I had, in about 2000 or thereabouts, written a piece for Lorraine Elements' Rainwear Fiction column, about a fashion show that depicted the history of rainwear, called "Bolero". It was about the finale of the show, very dramatic and surprising. The model was a honey blonde in a swirling, midnight blue rubberised taffeta mac, late 40s "New Look" style with an enchanting hood. She gets her 'cum-uppance' at the end.
Lorraine wrote some very kind comments in her response and said she would put it up but it might be a bit too explicit for her masters. She said she particularly appreciated the fact that 'the girl had a nice time'. It did in fact appear but was taken down after a week or two. Many years later I tripped over it while surfing the net for rainwear interest. If I can find it again I'll stick it up here just for fun.

delboy
Posts: 62
Joined: February 25th, 2010, 9:55 am

Re: METAMORPHOSIS 3

Post by delboy » February 24th, 2019, 12:14 pm

Congratulations on an excellent story so far. It brings back memories of when I bought my girl friend ,now my wife, her black PVC mac and the effect it had on her male colleagues in her office and that was back in the sixties. She still wears Black PVC macs, and I do as well, and when we are out we often get complimentary comments.
Last autumn we were staying in the Lake District for a week and decided to walk to the local pub for dinner one evening. Needless to say it was raining and so my wife wore her red PVC mac and I wore my black PVC trench coat. We certainly caused a few heads to stir when we arrived and one couple stopped us to ask about our coats when we left. We wore our macs at other times during the week and noticed a number of people watching us as we walked by but sadly did not see others wearing similar coats.

Delboy

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