Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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RainwearWife
Posts: 60
Joined: March 18th, 2022, 9:11 am
Location: UK

Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Post by RainwearWife »

Chapter 4

I awoke on Tuesday morning after the best night’s sleep I’d had in months. As my eyes slowly focussed, I became aware of a pale object a few inches from my head – it was the pink vibrator which I was still clutching in my hand.

As I moved in the bed, it dawned on me that I had slept in the raincoat and that I was rather sweaty and clammy as a result. I released the sex toy from my grasp and smiled wickedly to myself as I sat up and, with some effort, arranged the mac so that I could get the belt undone and remove the damp, clingy plastic from my body.

I got up went into the main room of the flat, retrieved my dressing gown and put it on, then began clearing up the discarded wrappings of my new purchases. Once this was done, I washed the vibrator thoroughly and placed it in the small drawer of the bedside table, before straightening out the mac and hanging it on the outside of the wardrobe.

Satisfied that the place looked presentable, I had a shower and then ate a light breakfast whilst watching the morning news on TV before getting dressed for work.

Just as I was about to leave the flat I was greeted by my landlady with a cheery, “Morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yes, very well thanks,” I replied with a smile. “Better than I have for some time, actually.” I tactfully omitted the fact that my restful slumber was in no small part due to the incredible – not to mention long-overdue – orgasms to which I had brought myself.

“Oh, I am glad,” she replied, beaming at me. “You must be settling in nicely. By the way, my dear, I’m going to visit a friend this evening so I won’t be here when you get back; in fact, I won’t be back until the morning as I don’t like travelling alone at night. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

“Don’t you worry on my account, Mrs G,” I said, “I’ll be fine. You have a lovely evening with your friend.” With that I set off for the factory, feeling happier with the world than I had for quite some time. It had been so very long since I’d had any sort of sex and the multiple orgasms I’d achieved the night before seemed to have done me the power of good. I’d be more than fine having the building to myself for the evening!

The working day passed without incident until midway through the afternoon, when, during a search of the computer for details of an old order, I uncovered a folder buried deeply away in the filing system that I hadn’t seen before. Upon opening it, I found that it was full of files, mainly spreadsheets detailing transactions with an entity referred to throughout as ‘FP’. Making a mental note to investigate further when time allowed, I returned to the matter in hand and continued with my work until it was time to go home.

When I arrived at the flat, there was a note stuck to the door stating that there were packages waiting for me next door. I wasted no time in going back up the path and into the neighbour’s building where I rang the door bell and waited expectantly. After a few seconds, the door was opened by a slightly-built, rather meek looking man whom I judged to be in his early forties.

“Hello!” I began brightly. “I’m Mrs Greyson’s tenant from next door. I believe you have some parcels for me?”

“Oh, yes, so you are,” he replied. “I’ve noticed you coming and going. Won’t you come in a moment?”

“Thank you,” I said as he stepped backwards, opening the door for me to enter as he did so.

At the same time, a woman appeared from a side door, carrying in her arms an elongated, sealed, brown cardboard box, atop which was a blue plastic bag similar to the one my mac had arrived in, only somewhat smaller. “Here you go,” said the woman, presumably his wife.

“Can we offer you a cup of tea?” the man offered warmly.

“That’d be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ve rather a lot to do this evening,” I replied. “Thank you so much for taking delivery of these for me, you’ve been most helpful.”

“No trouble at all, young lady. Eleanor told us earlier she’d be away tonight, so if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ring on that bell.”

Thanking the pleasant couple again, I made my way back next door, and with some effort fished my keys out of my pocket and opened the door of the building, before making my way up to my flat laden with my packages. Once inside, I dropped them both onto the bed and set about getting out of my work clothes and into my pyjamas, which I often used for longing around in during the evenings.

After eating something and letting it digest for a while, I went into the bedroom to inspect my latest arrivals. The box contained a pair of shiny black PVC knee-high boots in the ‘go-go’ style that had been so fashionable in the 1960s. Having spotted them on eBay, I’d decided that were exactly what I needed to complement my mac, which was also the case with the item in the smaller blue bag. This was a glossy black PVC rain hat, again in a 1960s style. I was slightly disappointed that the other item I’d ordered hadn’t arrived, but I knew it would be with me before long.

As I put the bag to one side, something colourful inside caught my eye – it turned out to be an A5-sized promotional catalogue sent by the supplier. Hauling myself up into a cross-legged position on the bed, I began to flick through its pages when an image grabbed my attention. It was one of the rainwear models clad in a mac very similar to mine, but that wasn’t what I was struck by – it was her face. The girl was strikingly, if a touch heavily, made-up in the ‘smokey eyes’ that was currently in vogue – certainly in glossy magazines and on television, if not in places such as the streets of Westbridge.

Wow, I thought, she looks amazing! I wonder if I could achieve that? I wasn’t in the habit of using a great deal of make-up, just a bit of mascara and lipstick if I happened to be going somewhere such as an evening out. I knew I didn’t have anything like the stuff the model was wearing, so it would mean buying some. A glance at the clock told me it was 6:45pm; what time did that chemist’s in the high street close? Eight, was it?

Making a snap decision, I threw off my PJs and hurried into a pair of grey leggings, a navy blue t-shirt and my old trainers, not stopping to worry about niceties such as underwear or socks. Deciding that no one would notice, I pulled a light jacket on over my t-shirt, snatched up my keys and headed out.

Once in the chemist’s, I gave the assistant some nonsense about being taken out to dinner later that evening and describing to her the sort of effect I was after. The woman couldn’t have been more helpful and twenty minutes later, I was hurrying back to my flat, clutching a small carrier bag loaded with make-up and brushes, as well as make-up remover and an ample supply of cotton wool balls. It had made a noticeable dent in my week’s budget, but my living expenses weren’t huge and it wouldn’t break the bank.

Back at Mrs G’s place, I practically flew up the stairs and put the bag on the bed with the other items. Taking a moment to gather myself, I drank a glass of cold water and got my breath back. Now to get started!

Some time later, after a good deal of application, removal and reapplication – not to mention a good deal of irritated huffing and puffing, with the odd foul word thrown in – I moved back slightly from the mirror mounted on the wall of the small bathroom and looked at my efforts. I certainly hadn’t achieved the porcelain complexion which I’d so admired on the catalogue model, but I was reasonably satisfied with what I’d done with my eyes: the dark grey eyeshadow, whilst not entirely perfectly done, managed to give me a smouldering look. I was more pleased with my lips – the ‘Pillar Box Red’ that I’d opted for really emphasised their shape, as well as looking dramatic in its own right.

“Tart!” I giggled and poked my tongue out at myself.

Taking off my towelling robe, I walked casually to the bedroom and set about encasing myself in black plastic for the second night in a row, this time with the added joy of the rainhat and boots. I began by putting on the gorgeous boots, but discovered with a sense of deflation that the lining wasn’t anywhere near as pleasant against my skin as I’d imagined.

“Damn!” I growled. Oh well, I’d just have to put a pair of tights on, I decided. Rummaging in my knicker drawer, I soon found a pair of the kind that I regularly wore to work; sheer, ten-denier, jet black. Pulling them up over my legs and hips, I realised that sheer nylon had a rather pleasurable feel all of its own. This had never occurred to me before, I had always regarded them as simply another item of clothing.

This rainwear lark is a real journey of discovery, I told myself light-heartedly, and spent more than a few seconds running my hands over my nylon-clad legs. “Snap out of it, girl!” I said aloud, realising that time was passing and I had other clothing to be putting on.

Stepping back into the boots, I found that the tights made a world of difference and I thoroughly enjoyed the clinging sensation as I zipped them up. Walking easily on the two-inch block heels, I went over to the wardrobe I reached for the mac, took it from its hanger and felt the wonderful shiver of its coldness as I pulled it onto my body. Once the buttons were done up and the belt securely fastened, I picked up the shiny rainhat from the bed before removing the small elasticated band that was holding my hair back into a ponytail and shaking my long copper mane free. I then placed the hat on my head before opening the wardrobe door to inspect myself in the long mirror that was fixed to the back.

“Oh, my God!” I gasped. “What have I done to myself?”

Staring back at me was a heavily (and perhaps a little clumsily) made-up PVC fetish girl. The knowledge that it was me I was seeing made my heart-rate increase noticeably, and for the briefest instant, the thought that I should take everything off, clean my face and behave sensibly flashed through my mind.

It was only a flash.

You’ve done it now, I told myself, there’s no turning back. This is what you wanted!

A look at the clock told me it was approaching nine PM, so I had a good two hours to explore my new plastic persona. Plenty of time; I should have a glass of wine and relax a little.

As I poured the wine, it suddenly came to me that being the only current tenant, Mrs Greyson’s absence meant I had the entire building to myself – what a glorious chance to wander around in my amazing new attire!

No sooner had I thought this than doubt filled my mind. What was I thinking? I couldn’t possibly walk leave the safety of my flat dressed as I was… but then, why couldn’t I? There was no one else in the building and it wasn’t like I was going to snoop in Mrs Greyson’s flat – it was locked in any case, so I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to.

I was about to dismiss the idea altogether when I had a brainwave. The ground floor passage led to the back door, and that opened onto the spacious and somewhat secluded back garden! I could go into the garden – no, I couldn’t... I daren’t.

But why not? Chances like this didn’t come along very often; I might be kicking myself if I passed it up.

After a few more seconds dithering, I made the decision: “Do it!” I commanded myself.

Taking up my keys and putting them into the pocket of the mac, I took a large mouthful of wine, trying carefully not to make a mess of the red, waxy lipstick coating my mouth, took the packet of cigarettes and a lighter from the drawer where I kept them and set off on my kinky little expedition.

Taking care to flick the lock of my flat’s door into the open position, I crept quietly down the stairs to the first floor, thanking my lucky stairs that the flat there was currently unoccupied. As I walked, my coat seemed to creak with every movement I made, and it seemed to me that it must be audible throughout Westbridge!

“Don’t be so bloody silly!” I chided myself, and the sound of my voice seemed to boost my confidence a little. I couldn’t be heard, of course. Upon reaching the top of the stairs that descended to the ground floor, I stopped by the mirror that hung there to get another look at myself. Standing purposely with my hands on my hips and my legs slightly apart, I found myself ‘talking’ silently to my reflection.

Well, well, Jane Preston, just look at you… a rainwear fetish girl! Whatever would your mother think? That made me giggle and my amusement served only to encourage me onward.

Reaching the ground floor, I strode confidently along the passage past Mrs Greyson’s door until I came to the rear door of the house. As I reached for the handle, every ounce of my new-found courage deserted me and I could clearly hear in my head the words, For God’s sake, you crazy bitch, what do you think you’re playing at? Go back now!

The overwhelming flood of fear froze me to the spot. Just what the hell was I doing?

No.

No.

I would not turn back!

Recalling the words I had ‘spoken’ to my reflection less than two minutes earlier, I silently eased back the bolt, twisted the handle, then pulled the door inwards.

To my immense relief, it opened noiselessly and I felt the sudden change of temperature as the night air made its way up under my mac and around my nylon-encased nether regions. Looking out into the garden, I reckoned that I’d be safe from being seen unless someone made a concerted effort to peer in it.

Before I had the chance to let uncertainty return, I stepped out onto the small rectangle of concrete and glanced around at the buildings either side of Mrs Greyson’s. To the left, a dim light came through a curtained window on the floor next to mine, whilst to the right, the house from where I’d retrieved my packages a few hours earlier was in total darkness. The high hedges on other side of Mrs Greyson’s neat, spacious garden meant that there was no view of it form the ground floor either side anyway.

Fighting back a rising sense of dread as again I imagined that the creaking of my plastic garb was waking people for miles around, I crept as quietly as I could further into the garden. By now, my eyes were rapidly becoming accustomed to the gloom, and with reasonable ease, I made my way over to the wooden bench which rested against the hedge of the left hand neighbouring property, although it was, of course, now on the right hand side, as I was effectively facing the rear of the properties.

As I started to relax a little, even beginning to appreciate and enjoy the creaking of my clothing as well as the soft hissing sound made by my mac rubbing against the sheer nylon of my tights, I heard a sound which made my heart leap up into my mouth. The rear door of what was now the right-hand house opened and a stream of light came from within.

“I’m doing it now!” I heard an angry-sounding male voice say, and I froze in my seat as I realised to my horror that the owner of this voice was approaching the very spot where I sat, albeit on the other side of the hedge.

Not daring to breath lest my clothing creaked and gave me away, I sat petrified as I heard what sounded like a large metal chest or box being opened and some objects being placed therein.

After what seemed an eternity, the lid was slammed shut and with enormous relief, I heard the man mutter, “Could’ve easily waited till the bloody morning…” as he went back towards the house. I heard the rear door close noisily; as it did so, the light vanished and I was again in more or less total darkness.

Allowing myself to breath again, I exhaled noisily and waited for my eyes to readjust to night vision. Somewhere an engine started, and from a few gardens away, I heard a cat begin to register its protest at what was presumably an intruder on its patch. Remembering the cigarettes I’d brought with me, I reached into my pocket and retrieved them, taking one from the packet more by feel than by sight, and with a What the hell… who’s going to see?, I lit up and saw part of myself briefly in the flickering glare of the flame.

I felt incredible. Here I was outside – yes, outside, smoking a cigarette in the pitch black night, dressed in the shiny, noisy plastic clothing for which I now knew I had a full-blown fetish.

If only it'd rain, I thought. Must be amazing to hear the raindrops hitting this impermeable material... to feel the droplets hitting waterproof plastic. Bloody typical British weather – never rains when you want it to! This thought caused me to smile wryly to myself.

Very soon, I’d finished my cigarette: I extinguished it carefully under the sole of my boot, before tucking the stub away into the base of the hedge where it wouldn’t be seen.

What now? I wondered. It must be getting late, I’d have to be going in soon, though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

With a resigned sigh, I rose from the bench, then I determined to make the most of what time I had. I walked slowly around the perimeter of the garden, by now revelling in the noises made by my clothing, until with a sense of disappointment I reached the back door.

Taking a last look around the garden, I stepped reluctantly back into the house, closing and bolting the door behind me.

Well, Jane my girl, I mused, you’ve taken the first steps. I think you deserve a reward!

With my thoughts firmly fixed on the pink object in the drawer of my bedside table, I began the ascent of the stairs back to my flat.
HeatherlovesPVC
Posts: 162
Joined: September 11th, 2018, 6:14 am
Location: Scotland

Re: Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Post by HeatherlovesPVC »

Before I sat down to read this I thought I'd treat myself and slip into something appropriate, my old shiny blue plastic jacket from Top shop.
I wasn't disappointed as this story just gets better and better and very quickly deciding to follow Jane's example I pulled on a pair of tights and my knee high leather boots and since not owning a hat I pulled up the hood of my jacket.
Altogether a most enjoyable 20 minutes was spent in the company of Jane so please, please get part 5 posted soon.
A very damp, sticky and satisfied Heather
pintrest830
Posts: 11
Joined: December 3rd, 2021, 3:57 am
Location: Colorado, United States

Re: Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Post by pintrest830 »

Oh this is getting good can’t wait to see her in the rain !
yellowgirl
Posts: 145
Joined: November 1st, 2014, 9:22 pm

Re: Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Post by yellowgirl »

can’t wait for part 4
RainwearWife
Posts: 60
Joined: March 18th, 2022, 9:11 am
Location: UK

Re: Jane's Journey (revised) Part 4

Post by RainwearWife »

Thank you all for your kind comments (though I think you mean Part 5, yellowgirl :) )
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