I had just completed my A-levels and I was waiting for the results. I knew I’d done OK in two but the other one worried me.
Then, my parents wanted me to go away with them on holiday but I demurred that I was old enough to stay home alone, as I was now 18. And, the compromise was that I didn’t have to travel with them but that I needed to get a summer job to keep me out of trouble.
Well, I’d often thought about going into journalism after my degree and so I started applying. The best that I could find was an intern’s job at a local newspaper in a town about 40 miles away. Now that’s quite a distance on a bike, twice a day so my mother called her sister and arranged that she would give me a room for a few weeks.
As far as I could remember, I’d never met Auntie Blanche but I needed the job experience to add to my resume and I needed the room and I didn’t need 2 weeks in Torquay with my parents.
So one Sunday afternoon I packed my 2 saddlebags checked the tyres and set off. The first 20 miles were OK but then it started to drizzle which then turned into a steady rain. Which meant that, by the time I got to Auntie Blanche’s, I was very wet and very tired..
The house was called, “The Laurels” and the front of the house said it all. The front garden was full of bushes, all of which were dripping wet and a little sooty when I arrived. Then I tried to remember where I’d been told to look for the key. Eventually, I found it but, as I was about to put the key into the lock, the door opened.
And there was Auntie Blanche obviously going out and dressed for the weather. She looked me up and down, pointed me to my room and the bathroom, and said she’d be back and that I should help myself to food.
I could not wait to get out of wet clothes, take a shower and unpack my meager teenage belongings.
A teenage boy is either tired, hungry, or both. And Auntie Blanche’s refrigerator was full of good stuff and stuff I didn’t recognize. So I chose the recognizable, ate, went to my room and crashed.
The next couple of days were filled with work because, as I learned very rapidly, newspapers work on weekends as well. But on Monday I was released in the middle of the afternoon from my endless chores of running copy from one desk to another and running shopping errands for anyone who was higher up in the pecking order than I. And, as I was at the bottom, that meant everybody.
My Aunt’s car was not in the drive when I got home so I knew I had the house to myself but, since I’d worked all weekend, I needed a nap. On my way to my room and, perhaps for the first time, I noticed the coats hanging in the hallway. One of them was a bottle-green ladies raincoat with an intriguing aroma. As I stroked it as it swung on its hanger, I felt an unfamiliar but welcome stirring. My watch said that Aunt Blanche would not be home for hours and so I swept it from the rack, buried my face in it and took it to with me.
There, after I’d showered and toweled off, I picked up the coat only to discover that as I’d hoped, it was really a hooded cape made from some kind of rubber-lined material. It took only a moment to slip it on and poke my arms through the arm slits and even though I daren’t look at my image in the mirror, the rubber felt so good against my skin.
Lying on my bed in the cape, I could not resist stroking my penis as I drew up the hood around my face and inhaled its scent. I came very quickly as teenage boys will but I’d been smart enough to bring a towel from the bathroom for that very purpose.
Then, as teenage boys do too, I fell asleep.
The next thing I knew was the sound of an intrusive cough and when I opened my eyes there was Auntie Blanche standing at the foot of my bed, arms akimbo, with a look on her face that I could not interpret. She was wearing a black mackintosh with a hood but all I knew was that I was naked under a ladies rain cape which I hurriedly pulled over my lower body and waited for I knew not what.
Without saying a word, she walked to the side of the bed and sat down on the edge. With one hand, she picked up the towel and sniffed it while with the other she swept the cape aside.
“Well,” she said, “Let’s see if you can do it again. Can you?”
I shook my head at which Auntie Blanche raised the hood on her own mackintosh, and with her left hand cupped my balls in the rubber lining of my cape while, with her leather gloved right hand, she started to masturbate me. All the time she never took her eyes from my face.
“Put your hand inside my mackintosh and tell me what you feel,” she ordered.
“A rubber lining,” I croaked because those were the first words I’d spoken since Auntie had caught me.
“That’s right,” she said. “Because you really like rubber don’t you Colin”?
I nodded my assent as my penis was now thoroughly aroused as Auntie’s hand moved faster over its whole length. And the increase in speed was accompanied by a growing crescendo of rustling from my cape and her satin mackintosh.
“Now put your hand under my dress and tell me what you feel.”
I could feel a nylon-covered leg and said so.
“Go higher,” she demanded, “And tell me what you find.”
Gingerly my palm went up until I encountered the unmistakable feel of bare thigh crossed by taut suspender straps.
“Count the straps and tell me what they’re attached to,” was her next command.
There were four to each leg but I could not identify the garment except to know that it wasn’t a suspender belt that I knew most of my girlfriends had worn from time to time even though a glimpse of them was very rare.
“And it’s rubber,” she added. “More precisely it’s latex. Now put your hand between my legs.”
I did so and encountered her sex but not surrounded by the pubic hair I had expected but rather a smooth mound with a slit, which was showing signs of increasing wetness. That did it for me and I said, “Auntie, I’ll need the towel soon.”
“No you won’t,” she muttered and bent over and took my penis in her mouth and sucked as I exploded. She sucked and sucked for what seemed like ages. Then getting up from the edge of the bed, she leaned over and kissed me, passing some of my semen to me as she did so.
“I have a dinner appointment,” she said, “And you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
As she reached the bedroom door she cinched the broad belt of her mackintosh after pulling down its skirt which highlighted her breasts.
“Of course, you could decide to leave and go home before I get back but, if you are still here, and I think you will be, I have some plans for you over the next few weeks my boy. And I bet Uncle Sidney will too. I’ll discuss those with her tonight.
My mind whirled as I headed for the shower again and washed off the scarlet circle of her lipstick from my now subsiding penis. Who was Uncle Sidney? Moreover, how could an uncle be a she?
Should I leave and go home? How would I explain it to my parents? I couldn’t tell them or anyone else the truth as they wouldn’t believe me. And I still needed the job at the newspaper. And, besides there was this “rubber thing” that I really wanted to know more about.
Thus it was that I embarked on an incredible experience that opened my eyes to a sexuality I had never imagined.
I had been working for six days straight and I’d just a sexual encounter with my Auntie. It was all too much for an 18 year-old, so I ate again and crashed into bed.
As daylight dawned in my room and penetrated my eye lids, I pondered the day ahead and the night before. At the end of the bed, my bathrobe was gone and it had been replaced by a garment I’d never seen before and the green rain cape. I knew I didn’t have to be in the office until noon and I’d had all the sleep I could handle for a while.
And I was hungry and the only source of food was in the kitchen. There was no way, I was going to wear last night’s rain cape nor was I going into the kitchen in just a towel. So, I picked up the new garment which was a short bathrobe in crimson, rubberized satin and walked to the kitchen.
Auntie had just poured a cup of tea as I walked in and, although I couldn’t look her in the face, I stammered out a quiet, “Good Morning Auntie”.
“From now on, you will address me as Aunt or Aunt Blanche but never, ever Auntie. Now come here”, and she pointed to a spot directly in front of her. I obeyed and stood there as she stared into my eyes and reached inside my robe and gave my cock a couple of quick strokes.
“I love the feel of a young cock in the morning,” she said, “And I think it’s time to tell you a couple of other things. First, I love rubber, especially rubber mackintoshes, and it’s seems you share that family gene. Secondly, while you are in my house, there will be a couple of rules to which you will adhere. You had a chance to leave last night but you did not. So, my house, my rules. You are wearing a rubber-lined garment now and that, and others like it, are what you will wear inside. Understood”?
I nodded mutely as she went on, “Look outside and you will see that it’s pouring down today and so, before you go to work, we shall go into town to buy you a proper mackintosh. Any questions?’
“No Auntie,” I whispered. She jerked the cock she still held and hissed, “Aunt Blanche, not Auntie. Now pour me another cup of tea and get one for yourself before I give you one more chore before we go into town.”
“Yes, Aunt Blanche,” was all I could muster as I followed her directions.
After my tea and toast, I asked permission to leave and shower prior to our shopping trip because, by this time, I knew she meant business and anyway I was fascinated. Again, she didn’t say a word but simply gestured that I should stand in front of her. When I did, her hand slipped inside the rubber of my robe and her grip on my cock left me in no doubt that I was expected to kneel down.
Aunt Blanche looked straight into my eyes as she slipped her hand inside her scarlet kimono and although I couldn’t see what she was doing it became very clear, very soon. For a start, there was that rhythmic rustling of the garment’s rubber lining as she stroked herself; first slowly and then with increasing intensity. And even if I been deaf and stupid, the look on her face said it all. In a very few moments she flung back one hem of her kimono and pulled my head between her widespread legs.
Her vagina was right there in front of me and she ordered me to lick and suck as she covered my head with the rubber lining of the kimono. She was very much in control as she held my head and directed my tongue with a stream of instructions. Soon she began to slide down in her chair as she thrust her soaking pussy, as she called it, hard against my face. Next, as one hand rubbed her clitoris, she moaned and a flood of slippery liquid washed over my face. After a couple of seconds she stood and left me kneeling with my face shining from her orgasm.
“One thing you will learn soon is that a rubber lining like this one is very easy to wipe and keep clean which is fortunate for you for, from now on, you’ll be doing it. Now run my bath, then go, and get ready to go out. I’ll ring this little bell whenever I want you to attend to my needs.”
About 30 minutes later, I’d shaved and showered and dressed in the best clothes I had with me as I knew that Aunt Blanche was always fastidious when she went out and would expect the same from me. As I was finishing putting on my shoes, the bell tinkled and, similar to Pavlov’s dogs, I obeyed it.
Aunt Blanche was sitting in front of her dressing table completing her makeup. When she had finally blotted her lipstick to her satisfaction she stood up and removed the kimono with its characteristic swishing rustle to reveal that she was wearing a black bra, which was very pointed, and, which I learned eventually, was called a “bullet bra”. However, it was not the bra that gained most of my attention but rather her suspender belt which I counted had no less than 7 straps for each leg.
“I don’t often wear this when I’m alone as it’s a lot of work to fasten all the clips. But now it’s your job,” she declared triumphantly. With that she sat back down at her dressing table and drew on a pair of sheer black stockings with a seam running down the back of each. Then she stood and directed me to begin clipping the straps to the welt of the stocking.
I was careful to follow her every instruction to ensure that the seams were laser-straight and that the straps were adjusted to the proper length and tautness so they would stay that way. She then stepped into a pair of latex French knickers, which she explained helped to make her pussy smell, and taste of this magic material. A skirt and a fine cotton sweater completed her outfit as well as a pair black high-heeled shoes and the same black satin mackintosh that she had worn the day before. However, this time it was my duty to fasten all the buttons and the strap, which held it tight around her neck. Finally, I tightened the belt with the skirt pulled taut below it, which made her breasts thrust forward. Taking one last look at herself in the mirror and running her hands over her breasts and hips one last she was satisfied and we left the house.
I had recently passed my driving test and gained my first license and so I offered to drive. The look from Aunt Blanche could have made Hell itself freeze over. “I’m in charge, young man wherever I am and not just at home.”
With that we were off on the 20 minute drive into the small market town and though it wasn’t raining it was a, not atypical summer day in England, in other words, overcast with a blustery breeze blowing. Then, as if ordained, Aunt Blanche found a vacant parking space just across the street from a store whose sign proclaimed it“Weatherfords, Ladies and Gentleman’s Outfitters”
I opened the car door for my Aunt, which she didn’t deign to acknowledge and then almost ran across the street to push open the door to the store for her to enter. Clearly, Aunt Blanche was well known as one assistant greeted her by name and, equally clearly, she knew her way around the place as, without hesitation, she headed for the rainwear department, which catered to both men and women.
As a somewhat stern looking woman approached us, the first thing I noticed was the increasingly familiar aroma of the rubber linings. “We’re looking for a mackintosh for my nephew here. “Certainly Madam,” she demurred, “Let’s just try this one for size.” And with that, she helped me into a coat in a fawn fabric which seemed to fit me well and I fully expected Aunt Blanche to choose it. I should have known better.
“No, that won’t do at all,” my Aunt protested. “That’s double-textured and we want a single-textured mackintosh. You must have some”. The assistant nodded and went off to bring the required garment.
In the meantime, by looking at the coat I was wearing and comparing it to others scattered around the store I figured out what the interchange meant. Double texture meant that the rubber was sandwiched between two layers of cotton fabric and, as I came to this conclusion, Aunt Blanche, said,” No you want single texture so the rubber lining is visible and, more importantly, you can feel it against your skin. And the sound it makes is better and so special.” I knew by now that this was not a question but rather a statement of fact. Whatever Aunt Blanche said was what was going to happen.
Then the assistant was back with two different styles of single-textured mackintosh. Before I even tried the first one on, I noticed another difference as well as the appearance and the noise it made and I said so.
“Well,” Aunt Blanche interrupted, “Its aroma is more distinctive and the sound even has a name which is ‘susurrus’”. I was about to ask what the word meant but thought better of it for the moment.
But the first style was rejected also because it didn’t have a belt while the second one did and Aunt Blanche pronounced herself satisfied after chiding me to tighten it. “Don’t bother to wrap it as he’ll wear it straightaway but, while I’m here, I may as well have a look around.” With that she was combing through rack after rack of ladies garments.
With a feeling of impending doom, I followed as she pounced first on a red rubber-lined cape, which came to her mid-calf. “For me, to replace the one you seem to have taken a liking to and I like the look of this one in shiny black rubber. But they only have your size so that will have to do”
“Aunt Blanche,” I protested, “That’s a ladies mackintosh.”
“So it is,” she replied. “And just perfect for what I have in mind and Uncle Sidney will love it too”.
Aunt Blanche dropped me off at work just as it was beginning to rain. As I entered the newsroom, a sub-editor spotted me still dressed in my new mackintosh. “Perfect,” she exclaimed, “I was wondering who we could send to cover this funeral and you’re the only one with a mac. Here’s the address; just about 100 words will be enough. Be back by 3 so we can get it into the evening edition.”
And that was my first reporting assignment; not exactly a Fleet Street scoop but you have to start somewhere and all because Aunt Blanche insisted on dressing me in a mackintosh.
I made it back from the cemetery just in time to file my story although when I went looking for my name on the by-line later, I found an older and usually intoxicated stringer in the office had replaced me. But, at least, I knew the truth. After the evening edition had been put to bed and before the night staff came in many members of the newsroom went for a drink before wending their way home and tonight, I decided to join them to celebrate the fact that my deathless prose was now in print.
As I entered the pub and wiped the steam from my glasses, I saw some of my new colleagues laughing over something around a small table. Too small for me as it turned out but the sub-editor who’d given me my assignment saw me and joined me at the bar. I opened my mackintosh as she approached in order to retrieve my wallet but she insisted on doing the treating. “I do like the mac,” she said, “Had it long”?
I confessed that it was new and she responded by stroking the sleeve and raising it to her cheek. “I love the smell,” she smiled. “It’s so sexy.”
Now this woman, whose name was Jan had to be at least ten years older than I and I did wonder if she was coming onto me but I wasn’t sure so I played it safe and didn’t take the bait. After finishing just the one drink because I’d never been much of a drinker and I knew I should be getting back to Aunt Blanche as we were supposed to be having dinner together. Therefore, I took my leave and went out into what was turning into a downpour. Standing in a shop doorway, I buttoned my mackintosh all the way up, adjusted the wrist straps and tightened my belt before making a dash for it.
The bus came in about five minutes and it soon deposited me at the end of the road whence stood “The Laurels.” The rain had eased up a bit but even so, I jogged the rest of the way, listening to the way the rubber whispered and rustled and enjoying the heady scent as it warmed to my body.
Entering the house, I debated going straight to my room but decided to report to Aunt Blanche first. She was sitting in the living room watching the evening news while she sipped on a glass of wine and smoked a cigarette.
“Come here,” she ordered in a voice that suggested the glass of wine was not her first. She was wearing the same scarlet kimono I’d seen earlier as I started to remove my mackintosh. “Leave it on,” she commanded, “And come here.”
She opened her kimono and I saw to my surprise that she was still wearing the latex knickers over the black suspender belt. “You’ve been a good boy today, so now it’s time for your treat.” With that she rolled down the knickers and indicated that I should kneel before her again. “Smell my pussy and give it a lick,” and when I did she quivered, “Can you smell and taste the rubber?”
Well I certainly could and I made the most of it until she suddenly stood up. Now kneeling before me, she unbuttoned my mackintosh and my trousers and pulled out my cock which she cradled in the rubber lining. “Now it’s my turn,” she said and took my stiffening cock into her eager mouth. “Button your mackintosh around my head so I’m cocooned in rubber.”
The first time she’d taken me into her mouth it had just been before I exploded but this time was different. Now she really went to town on me taking me deep one minute and then licking the tip of my cock the next.
“I want you to hold my head through the rubber and fuck my mouth.” I was in no mood to disobey because, although it was not the first time I’d been on the receiving end of fellatio, I had never felt such a wanton and willing mouth.
All too quickly, I felt the stirrings of an impending orgasm and said so. She responded with even more vigorous licking and sucking. When eventually I cried out, she took my cock as deep into her throat as was humanly possible and sucked it dry as if there was no tomorrow.
Just as I thought my knees were going to give way, she came out from under the hem of my mackintosh, stood, and gave me another taste of myself.
“We’re going out for Chinese food,” she announced, “But before we do you have to wash out my latex knickers and check the inside of your mackintosh too, just in case.”
“Yes, Aunt Blanche,” I whispered. After all, what else was there to say?
About 30 minutes later, I heard the sound of Aunt Blanche’s bell and slipping into my mackintosh I reported for duty. She was wearing her new cape together with a pair of black high-heeled boots that I hadn’t seen before. She tossed the car keys to me and, as it was obvious that she had enjoyed some more wine, I was very glad to accept the chore.
We went out and I opened the door for Aunt Blanche and, as she climbed in, the bottom of her cape revealed that the boots came right up to her knees and, indeed, almost covered them. Then I went round to the driver’s side but before I could adjust my seat belt, she instructed me to open the zip on my trousers and take out my cock. I obeyed even though I didn’t understand why at first. After we’d backed out of the drive and started down the road, she slipped her hand between the buttons of my mackintosh and grasped my cock, rubbing it slowly. Soon I was aroused again as the tip came into contact with the rubber lining and, with the heat on and the fact that we were both wearing new mackintoshes, the car was soon filled with a heady scent of rubber and sex.
However, Aunt Blanche did release her grip and, as I went round to her side to help her out, I was able to recapture my cock and imprison it inside my zip. Aunt Blanche had made a reservation and, before we were shown to our table, we handed off our mackintoshes that were hung up near the desk.
As it happened, while Aunt Blanche’s back was to the door, my seat allowed me to watch the owner of the restaurant rapturously stroking the rubberized lining of my Aunt’s cape. Slowly but surely I was coming to realize that my attraction to this new material was not as rare as I had first thought and so, while we were over coffee, I broached the subject and asked her opinion.
For once, she didn’t tear my head off for questioning her and, mellowed by even more wine, she began to tell her view of the subject and what a fascinating tale it was. For a start I learned that she had once been married, a fact that my mother had left out, but that she had been divorced for more than ten years
Apparently marital bliss had not last too long which could be the reason that my mother had not thought to mention the marriage. My Aunt clearly did not want to go into too many details of the events that led to the eventual breakup and so she glossed over that part of her life. However, what happened next was very revealing.
When the soon-to-be ex-husband left the joint home, Aunt Blanche wasted no time in removing all traces of his presence. It was during this process that she came upon his collection of magazines and brochures. They covered many aspects of human sexuality and, before she shredded or discarded many she scanned through them. I could not help feeling that if her husband had been open about some of his inclinations, the partnership may have been very different but I kept my suspicions to myself.
Aunt Blanche went on to explain that she was especially fascinated by the subject of exotic lingerie, leather and rubber clothing. So, these publications she did not discard but rather kept them, became curious, and eventually ordered from them. The first thing she bought was a classic riding mackintosh because she knew that, in the semi-rural area she lived, she could wear it without raising any eyebrows. And, so it proved but it wasn’t long before she knew it was not enough. The swishing noise was there as well as the aroma but only to a limited extent and she wanted more. And then an ad in the local newspaper pointed her to Weatherfords, the store we’d visited together.
There she found what she’d been seeking, a single-texture navy blue cotton mackintosh and she also found that the, then, manager of the outerwear department shared her fascination with rubber-lined rainwear. This knowledge blossomed first to a friendship and later to a relationship, the nature of which she did not elaborate upon.
The extent of the store’s rubber-featured merchandise began and ended with rainwear and that forced Aunt Blanche and her new found “friend” to resort to the mail order companies featured in the magazines which catered to this fringe market.
The first thing she bought from these was a rubberized satin kimono similar to the one I had seen earlier and she talked about its arrival. Because receipt of the package required a signature and she worked every day, she had to go to the post office to retrieve it. She found, as she carried it out to her, car that it was so heavy that she wondered what could be in there. After reaching home, she poured a glass of wine and opened it up to find there was merely that which she had ordered; not more than one and no lead weights.
Removing the kimono from its plastic bag, she gasped and buried her nose into the fabric and inhaled the wonderful scent of the rubber backing. Without bothering to go up to her bedroom or closing the curtains for privacy, she stripped off her clothes and slipped into the kimono and felt for the first time that which she had craved namely the feel of rubber against her naked body. Even though she gasped at the first shock of the cool lining, she tied the belt tightly and ran to the hall mirror.
There she ran her hands over the rubberized satin covering her hips and then her substantial breasts. When she did so, she found that her nipples were amazingly erect due to the combination of the cold rubber and the sensuality the material engendered and she could not resist pinching them through the fabric as she watched herself in the mirror. Dropping one hand to her crotch while the other remained occupied with first one nipple and then the other, she began to stroke her clitoris with the rubber. Soon the stroking became a more vigorous fingering and soon she was consumed with an impending orgasm while, in the mirror, her eyes were half closed and from her lips came an almost feral growl of pleasure.
By this point in the story, Aunt Blanche had moved on from wine and was drinking her second cognac. It was lucky for us that our table was separated some way from the other diners and so they were spared the details but also it gave me a chance to ask a question and so I did.
“Who is Uncle Sidney?”
“My best friend and lover,” she whispered. “The manager of the rainwear department or at least she was, but she’s moved up in the firm since then.”
“But why Uncle,” I asked.
“Because, she’d like to be a man; now let’s go home,” she slurred,
I was tired, my mind was reeling, and so I nodded dumbly. She wanted me to wear her cape before we left the restaurant when I collected our mackintoshes but for, once, I prevailed. Maybe it was the brandy.
However, not for long because on the way home she eschewed the seat belt and laid across me and sucked my cock as I drove. Not quite to orgasm because she fell asleep on the way and on arrival I helped her upstairs and tried my best to make her comfortable in her bed.
On my way downstairs to my room, I could not stop myself from opening the door to the other bedroom, which I’d learned, was Uncle Sidney’s room. It looked to be unremarkable until I opened the closet door and, at the front, the garments were all for a well-dressed modern male. Further back though, were rubber and latex equivalents and further back yet were all manner of constraints, masks and boots
I did not look in the drawers of the chest, perhaps because I did not want to know what was in there. But, I imagined that I soon would know all about, intimately.
Because the newspaper seem to feel that I could now be trusted with actual reporting assignments, the next few days were a whirl of work and more work and sometimes drinks after in the pub and the only notable event outside work were other encounters with Jan, the sub-editor, in the pub. Not that anything had ever happened between us except one night when we left the pub and headed for an Indian restaurant, Jan couldn’t wait to take my mackintoshed-covered arm and she hung onto it as long as she decently could. But still I hadn’t connected the dots. Stupid, naïve me!
Aunt Blanche, too, had been busy and had been away on a 2 week business trip which is what gave me the opportunity to go out after work as often as I had but she’d returned home late the previous night. The following day, I’d been asked by Jan to accompany her and a photographer on an assignment about 200 miles away. The assignment completed, we started the drive home under gloomy clouds and, having dropped the photographer back at the office, Jan volunteered to take me home. As we turned into the street, I spotted Aunt Blanche’s car entering the driveway and Jan followed her in.
As the raindrops began to fall I felt I had to introduce the two ladies and as soon as we all got out, Jan exclaimed, “Oh you’ve got a mackintosh as well.”
Aunt Blanche was indeed wearing the black rubberized satin coat and had the hood up protecting her hair from the raindrops. She was obviously pleased by the implied compliment and invited Jan into the house and commented that Jan should consider a similar garment for herself as her work took her out into the elements at times. She agreed but said she didn’t know where to go or what to ask for.
It was at that moment that the telephone rang and Aunt Blanche passed it to me after she’d answered it. It was my mother with the news of my exam results. As I’d feared, I’d only passed in two of the three but, according to the school, I could retake the one I’d missed in November. I really wasn’t as unhappy as I’d assumed I would be because my time at the paper had made me rethink the degree I should take.
“Colin, why don’t you open a bottle of wine for our guest”, said Aunt Blanche as she resumed her more usual role. “Now, tell me my dear, what kind of mackintosh attracts you?”
“I honestly don’t know what I’d like because I’ve never had one. I only know they do the job and I like the look, the sound they make and the scent”, she replied.
Aunt Blanche smiled, “But you’re missing a few things and that is the way they feel and the way they make the wearer feel and the reactions of non-wearers when they greet you.”
“Anyway”, she added, “Perhaps, the best thing would be to try a mackintosh. You’re not quite my size but you’re close enough. Do you want to choose or should I?”
Jan took another swig from the wine glass I proffered and waved to indicate that my Aunt should choose. As the first bottle was now empty, I went in search of a replacement. While I was gone, I dropped off my mackintosh in my bedroom and noticed a package on my bed. Opening it, I found a pure latex rubber robe in coral-red but, before I could go further, Aunt Blanche’s bell rang.
Reporting for duty, as I’d come to think of it, I went to join the ladies. There was Jan wearing my Aunt’s black satin mackintosh. She preened herself in front of the bedroom mirror and slid her hands down from armpits to hips as she reveled in the swish and the rustle. After a couple of twirls, she came to me and put her arms round my neck but pouted that I’d discarded my mackintosh. Remembering the new robe downstairs, I simply said, “Wait and see.”
Then Aunt Blanche came back into the room bearing the shiny black rubber mackintosh she’d bought for me and invited Jan to try it on. “I love the feel of the outside but it needs to be polished and I prefer to feel rubber next to my skin.
“And you shall my dear,” said Aunt Blanche and Jan did not even flinch at the sudden term of endearment. “Come with me,” she added and gave me a look that brooked no dissent. “Put on your new robe.”
It was only later that I learned what had transpired while I was gone. It seems that my Aunt asked Jan if she was serious about feeling rubber next to her skin and she nodded. And so, Aunt Blanche ordered her to strip and handed her a shiny black rubber bra with keyhole cutouts for her nipples but my Aunt wasn’t nearly done. Next came a matching rubber suspender belt and she assured Jan that I would be here soon to attach the stockings to it. This is when I walked in.
There was one of my bosses standing in front of a mirror wearing only a black rubber peephole bra through which her nipples poked straight out as she brushed her fingertips over them. Then my Aunt waved a finger peremptorily to me to kneel at Jan’s feet to hook up her stockings. “I hear you can buy rubber stockings?” asked Jan? My Aunt nodded but said that they might follow later as they needed a lot of care and practice to put on.
Jan’s pubic area was very different from my Aunt’s. Where one was as smooth and naked as a young girl’s, Jan’s was a lush dark bush. This, however, was soon covered by a pair of thick rubber knickers with a built-in clitoral stimulator, which Aunt Blanche took great care and obvious delight in positioning.
With its characteristic swish, my Aunt whisked a navy blue rubberized satin mackintosh from a hanger and encouraged Jan to slip her arms into it. She shivered as the cool, smooth lining slid up the bare skin of her arms and Aunt Blanche fastened all the buttons, cinched the broad belt and adjusted the wrist and throat straps after lifting the hood over Jan’s head. Preening herself in the almost-ankle length mackintosh in front of a long mirror, she slipped her feet into her own heels and did a couple of twirls obviously relishing the swish and rustle of the precious material.
During this action, I was sitting on a chair in the corner and my Aunt indicated that I should bare my cock through the opening of my new latex robe. I began to stroke it as Jan started to tease her erect nipples through the rubber of her mackintosh and Aunt Blanche slipped her hands into the pockets of Jan’s mackintosh and began to massage the clitoral stimulator into her mound.
The combination of her appearance in the mirror and the stimulus from her new rubber garments and my Aunt’s incessant clitoral stimulation began to trigger the inevitable. Then Jan spotted me in the corner stroking myself. As her orgasm began to build, she cried out to me, “Wank it” and I did. “Faster” she almost shouted. “Wank it faster and harder”.
As my hand flew up and down my cock I was happy that I’d had the presence of mind to position a small towel to hand and I readied it receive my ejaculation. And, when it did, that did it for Jan and she cried out and thrust her hips forward against my Aunt’s insistent fingers.
“I love my rubber, I love my rubber. I love my rubber mackintosh,” she repeated as she fell back into a chair.
“That was incredible. But now I need my own.” And she turned to my Aunt, “Will you go with me to help me choose?”
Weatherford’s was about to have a new patron of their rainwear department.
Before that visit took place, Jan and I shared another car on another assignment. The atmosphere was at first strained, then purely professional and I wasn’t going to mention the obvious. Eventually though, she did.
“You have a beautiful cock,” she said. I thanked her but then remained silent as I could tell there was more to come.
“Apart from Blanche’s influence, when did you get into rubber?”
The real answer was, as I explained, that I didn’t know. Yes, there were vague child hood memories of a six-week hospital stay when I’d contracted scarlet fever and there was a red-rubber sheet on the bed under me. Somehow, I could always find a way to squirm my way under the top sheet in order to find it.
Then, I loved my wellington boots. They were black and shiny and rubber. And I loved the smell and the look and I loved rain so I could wear them and jump in puddles.
On the other hand, Jan had no such recollections. She had no idea until, it seemed, I appeared in the newsroom wearing a rubber-lined mackintosh. Gradually, she explained what got to her.
She liked the look, then the susurrus, then the scent and, finally when she took my arm on the way to a restaurant, the feel. And, so she had decided there and then that she had to have her own and she related what had transpired when she met Aunt Blanche at Weatherford’s.
Jan met Aunt Blanche for lunch and was surprised to see her already at a table talking with a woman dressed in a dark grey pants suit. Joining them, she was introduced to Cyd who, I later learned, was the now-notorious Uncle Sidney. Their food orders placed, Cyd asked Jan what she was looking to purchase and added that she would arrange for her purchase to reflect her employee discount.
Jan explained that her job entailed about 30% of her time being out of the office and so a serviceable mackintosh was in order and that such a garment would not cause adverse comment from her colleagues. However, she added, that she loved the way the rubberized satin mackintosh looked and felt but that she doubted that it was suitable for work. “And I’d like a cape for evenings out and there are other things too which would have to be private.”
“Or, out of sight under our boring work dress. Even though my appearance right now appears very traditional and conservative, you’d be amazed, even shocked by that which you can’t see; ask Blanche?” “And it’s so exciting to know that nobody else knows. Try it?”
Jan admitted that she might, but wanted to know if Weatherford’s sold stuff like that. Cyd, shook her head and pointed out that her company was a traditional store and that many of their regular patrons would have a fit if they saw a gown-less evening strap let alone one made from latex, rubber or leather. Then, she reached into her briefcase and passed over a thick manila folder with a wink.
At that point, the food arrived and after the “oohing and aahing,” Cyd glanced towards my Aunt and said she wanted to ask a very personal question. “Are you gay?” she continued.
Jan hesitated before replying, “I’ve wondered more than once about that. I’m 31 and I’ve never been married nor have I ever come close. I enjoy sex but until last week it’s only been with a man or with myself. You should see my vibrators”….
“It felt so good when Blanche was masturbating me but, at the same time, I don’t think I could have come to orgasm unless I’d been able to watch Colin wanking in his latex robe.”
My Aunt and Uncle Sidney exchanged glances at that point. “Why don’t we plan a little get together at my house soon? Let’s invite Colin as well and we’ll decide his role and his costume”.
With that decided, Cyd picked up the check and the three headed back to Weatherford’s.
Aunt Blanche and Jan headed straight for the outerwear department in the store and Cyd promised to join them as soon as she had checked in with her secretary. There was no assistant available as the two walked in but Aunt Blanche knew her way round and didn’t need any help.
The first display she inspected contained riding mackintoshes but remembering Jan’s preferences as well her own, she steered her towards those of a single-texture, similar to the one that I wore. Jan pushed her arms into a fawn, belted mackintosh and luxuriated in the now-familiar experience of its welcome.
My Aunt nodded her approval and, still wearing it, Jan moved on to more stylish garments. She tried on one mackintosh after another but eventually eliminated all but two. The first was red rubber coated cotton while the other was a black satin cape because Jan knew she wanted a hood and the red coat didn’t have on. As a result, she opted for the cape.
At this point, Cyd rejoined the two and added her approval of Jan’s choices but the latter couldn’t help giving a backward glance as they walked towards the cash register with their purchases. And Cyd, ever the sales person, picked up on it and guided her back to a shiny black rubber mackintosh. Cyd took it from its hanger and smoothed the surface with her hand as she reminded Jan that it would need to be polished to bring out its best and that it might attract adverse comments from some.
Jan’s only objection was the expense of the total outlay until Cyd pointed out the extent of her executive discount which did the trick. Jan left the store wearing the fawn coat as she still had to go back to work but with the other two mackintoshes in a couple of shopping bags.
As the three parted, Jan was a little shocked at the kiss that Cyd planted on my aunt, tongue and all, and she fervently hoped that she would not receive the same. She didn’t but her buttocks did get a little tweak instead which made her squeal with anticipated excitement.
It was quite a distance from the store to the office and it was raining that fine drizzle which seemingly soaks one even more than an out-and-out downpour. Jan was therefore glad of her new mackintosh but, as it had no hood, she had to use a small foldable umbrella to protect her hair. Rather than take all her purchases into the office, she decided to stop in at the car park and leave the bags in her car. As she was about to insert the key into the lock, she heard a shout of greeting and turned to see me.
“Nice mac,” I said as I held the door of her car open. “So you went with my aunt then?”
“Yes, and Cyd or rather Uncle Sidney”, she grinned.
“Well you’ve done better than I,” I replied. “What’s he or she like”?
Jan said that she’d liked her and could see why Blanche was attracted.
She then proceeded to give me a peek at her other purchases and I gasped when I saw the black rubber surfaced mackintosh but she went on to say that was only for non-work hours. That made a lot of sense for, since my initiation into Aunt Blanche’s “scene”, I’d done a little research and knew that a garment like that was regarded as frankly “kinky” not that I said this to Jan but I did offer to use the polishing spray I’d been given to turn the now dull surface into a captivating shine.
“Can you come round this evening and do that as I’d like to wear it soon?” “And I can show you the brochures Cyd gave me.”
As Aunt Blanche was away overnight on another business trip, I agreed with alacrity and with that we walked together towards the office but Jan did not take my arm as that action might be looked on with disfavor by her colleagues. Instead she cavorted between the puddles, twirling the skirt of her mackintosh with obvious delight. “What you need,” I said, “Is a pair of waterproof boots.”
“Do they make rubber boots with a heel,” she asked. I had no idea and said so but I was willing to bet that Aunt Blanche or Uncle Sidney would.
For the next few days, I was busy and so was Jan at another office. I still could not see why a woman who was a little over 15 years older than I, was seemingly, attracted to me. Later I would find out.
Between the two of us, giving Jan’s black rubber-surfaced mackintosh it’s notorious sheen didn’t take long. And, with the task done, Jan announced that she just had to wear it out. Fortunately, it was drizzling so that wearing a rainproof garment would not, by itself, provoke comment. My mackintosh never had but I was not so sure about, what was now, shiny black rubber and I voiced my concern.
Jan, though, was insistent and so out we went. Our first stop was at a country pub about 10 miles away but, having just pulled into the car park, she drove back onto the road just as quickly and explained she recognized her boss’s car and had “chickened out”.
Our next stop was at another pub, a mile or two away. There were only a few cars and so she decided that it was time.
I held the door to the pub open for Jan to go ahead of me. In the room we had selected, there wasn’t a soul in sight and so she sat while I headed to the bar to order.
She opened the front buttons of her rubber mackintosh as I set our drinks down and joined her. Some 5 minutes later, I had to visit the men’s room and, as I was rinsing my hands, a man standing next to me asked about “my mother’s rubber mac.”
“She’s not my Mom,” I stammered.
“In that case,” said the man, “She’s going to fuck your brains out later,” and he left.
When I returned the bar, Jan was re-buttoning her coat and she had the broadest smile on her face. I asked about her reaction and she said she’d tell me in the car. “I may even just show you,” she added, as she pinched my mackintosh-covered backside.
Once in the car, it didn’t take long as she whispered. “Let’s go back to my house and I’ll tell you on the way.” So I put the car in gear and drove and listened.”
As I did, she put her head back on the headrest and ran her palms along her rubber-covered thighs. And, as she did, she started to talk.
“Ever since I can remember, I played with my pussy whenever I was alone or tired or bored.”
“Then, as I grew older, I remember having this dolly. She had a cute face and she was my constant companion. My brother had a teddy bear but I loved my dolly. I used its hand against my pussy sometimes because it felt good; not because I knew what I was doing. “Then she dozed off for a few minutes but awoke when I asked her to point out her street..
“They loved my mac,” she smiled, and before I could ask, she added.” The couple who came in while you were in the bathroom. I think that he spotted it first but then she came over and stroked the sleeve and said how her husband loved PVC.
Jan had responded that it was actually a highly polished rubber mackintosh, at which she stroked it some more and said, “Even better.”
When we reached Jan’s home, I followed her in and she raced for the downstairs bathroom. “Gotta go”, she yelled. “I’ll be back”.
And so I did while I prepared a question for her.
“Why me and why rubber and why mackintoshes?”, I asked myself but I didn’t get to put the question to Jan as, after the bathroom break, she went upstairs and asked me to wait. Some 10 or 15 minutes later she called me from the top of the stairs.
When I got up there everything was dark and Jan asked me to undress completely and then to button and belt my mackintosh. Intrigued, I did as she asked and then knocked on her bedroom door. The door opened and her hand drew me in. She put her arms around my rubber-covered body and kissed me long and deeply. Her tongue explored my mouth as my hands explored her body and I found she was wearing her long black satin rubberized cape and nothing else. As my eyes got used to the dim lighting, I could see that her hood was up as she drew me to the bed. Switching on the bedside lamp, she turned back the duvet to reveal black latex sheets that she said she had just bought but never yet used.
By now, my erection was tenting the front of my mackintosh and I felt as if I might burst any minute. She knelt on the edge of the bed with her cheek against the cool rubber surface and asked me to take her from behind. I drew my cock from between the buttons of my mackintosh and she guided me into her soaking pussy and moaned.
“Oh yes’” she groaned, “Start slowly and vary the depth as you go.” I gripped her hips through the rubberized satin and began to thrust. In a minute or two, Jan’s own movements became more urgent as with one hand I could tell she was fingering her clitoris.
“Go faster,” she hissed, “and go as deep as you can”. I needed no more encouragement as my excitement grew and her groans and the slapping of our mackintoshes against slippery wet skin filled the bedroom. And the rubber aroma from the sheets added to our frenzy. With a throaty growl, Jan’s neck arched back and she cried out, “Fuck me, like you’ve never fucked before.” She came just 2 seconds later and I shot my cum deep inside her pussy as my cock jerked. She collapsed onto the rubber sheets and I was on top of her with my cock still inside as we both panted and gasped for air.
After a little while, I carefully withdrew my now subsiding erection being careful to avoid getting any slipperiness on the fabrics of our mackintoshes. I knew there was no way I would prevent a little leakage onto the rubber lining but, as I knew from experience with my Aunt, that was easily cleaned up.
And, by the time I had and come back upstairs, Jan had halfway shuffled out of her cape and was sleeping soundly. I crawled in beside her and pulled the latex sheet over me only to find that I’d inherited the wet spot. But, as it was the best sex I’d ever had, not that at 18 that meant a lot, but my questions persisted.
Why me? Why rubber? Why mackintoshes? Or the compound question, why me in a rubber-lined mackintosh?
However, because I had to be on the road early to return home to retake my A-level exam and because Jan had an early work assignment out of town, we had no time to talk the next day. But, we agreed to talk on the phone before I was due to return a week hence.
I had grown so used to being away it seemed somewhat odd to be home. As I unpacked my meager belongings in my bedroom, I was surprised to see a couple of things I knew I hadn’t packed. The first was an envelope that I soon saw contained a greeting card from Aunt Blanche and Uncle Sidney. It wished me luck with the exam and urged me to hurry back. “We’ll have fun when you do,” it ended.
The increasingly cynical side of me should have asked who the “We” might be but I didn’t. The other item was wrapped in tissue paper and opening it revealed a pair of black rubber briefs together with a note from all three ladies and with an enjoinder to wear the garment when I retook the exam. Just for luck they said. Now I wasn’t sure about the practicality of wearing rubber briefs when I would be sweating from anxiety already but, a little white lie wouldn’t hurt I figured.