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I was Horny.

Yes, with a capital “H.” The truth is warm weather does something to me. As soon as the summer sun hit the midday point, I found myself liquefying, stretching and bending, craving hot rubbery action. That’s when I donned a sweet little cherry-printed sundress and headed to the grocery store.

A cool breeze chilled me from the first step into the air-conditioned environment. I was drawn to my favorite aisle as if pulled by an invisible band of elastic, one that would snap if I tugged on it. I found myself standing in front of the display of rubber gloves, almost unconsciously licking my lips as I perused the different styles.

There was the traditional type: lemon-yellow and made of heavy-duty rubber. Then there was a jokey set: bright pink with a painted diamond on the ring finger of the left hand and feather trim adorning both cuffs. But the gloves I reached for — the ones that wanted to come home with me — were a riot of vibrant colors. The three pairs came in one pack: purple, cobalt and rose. These gloves would never touch water, wouldn’t help scrub dishes or be put through any normal cleaning paces.

Clutching the package, I headed down the aisle, and that’s when I felt someone watching me. I’d been lost in my own haze, floating on endorphins as I fantasized. I had a plan for those gloves: to go home, get naked and stroke myself all over with the sensual rubber. But when I sensed someone’s gaze on me, I turned and saw a woman my age, mid-20s, with short blonde hair and fierce blue eyes. Standing a few feet from me, she glanced at the gloves in my hand, looked at my face and then grinned.

I had a flash of where I’d seen her before, at a fetish club in the city. She’d been clad head-to-toe in rubber — a red latex dress, rubbery stockings and shiny boots. I’d wanted to get close to her, but I’d been on a date that night, and she’d slipped away before I could snatch a moment to talk to her.

Now in the grocery store, she stepped closer and said two simple words that told me everything I needed to know: “Express lane.”

I nodded, and we hurried together to the checkout. I wondered what had been on her list. It was obvious what I was after. We exchanged names in line — I told her I was Linda; she said she was Cici. Then we bantered a bit about ladies we both knew. She’d dated a friend of mine long ago. I’d gone out with one of her coworkers. Finally, I was able to pay, and the two of us headed out into the sunlight. I was bouncy with glee. I’d planned a Sunday afternoon of solitary lust, but suddenly I was in for something special!

“I sucked on one latex-sheathed pointer while she urgently fucked me with another.”

Cici followed me to my place, and as soon as we were in the door, she started telling me what she wanted.

“You strip,” she said. I took off my clothes in a flash. “Give me the gloves.”

I followed her directions precisely. She slid on the purple pair, and then she did something that made my heart race and my pussy throb. She slid a rubber-clad finger between my juice-sluiced nether lips and slipped one from her free hand into my mouth. I sucked on one latex-sheathed pointer while she urgently fucked me with another. As I felt her plunge inside my cunt, I breathed in deeply, inhaling the heady perfume of fresh rubber.

Cici really knew her way around a fetish — and a woman’s body. In almost no time, she had me writhing on the cusp of an orgasm, fingering my clit with a precision that would have left me begging if my mouth hadn’t been full.

Yes, I’d already been in a hyper-aroused state at the store. I’d been at the end of my tether, as it were, unable to get off that morning with my hand alone. I needed my fix. I’d planned on spending all afternoon alone, playing with myself and some new rubber gloves. Taking turns with one color and the next.

The fact that I’d hooked up with Cici extended my pleasure in a way I hadn’t even allowed myself to imagine. She plucked at my clit, then let one gloved finger press against it as she rubbed hard, tight circles. I leaned back against the wall and spread my legs wide. I was going to climax, and I let her know.

“Do it,” she urged. “Come on my fingers. Then we’ll go to your bedroom and really start to play.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but the promise of future pleasure turned me on even more. I climaxed intensely while calling out her name, practically seeing stars behind my shut lids. I felt the lingering aftershocks for several seconds as I rode out my pleasure. Then Cici helped me to my bedroom as my legs were weak and rubbery.

Once we were in my boudoir, she took off her own clothes and handed me a second pair — the dark blue gloves. Together, we stroked one another with our rubber-sheathed hands. She sighed as I pinched her nipples. I moaned when she stroked my ass crack. She lingered at my back hole, making me squirm.

“Push it in,” I begged her.

“Where’s your lube?”

I pointed toward a dresser drawer. Minutes later, we were both glistening and drippy with the water-based lubricant. We rubbed against her each other, fondling every bit of flesh we could reach. I couldn’t believe what had begun as a day of horny solitude was ending with such an orgy of pleasure.

“What made you go to the store today?” I asked as she began to stroke into both of my holes at once — jamming my pussy and ass full of rubbery goodness.

“I needed something… ”

“Something,” I echoed.

“Something like this.”

When she pinched my clit and rammed a finger high up my ass, I came with a sigh — and a snap!

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Glove Love

  • 1

Storyline

I was Horny.

Yes, with a capital “H.” The truth is warm weather does something to me. As soon as the summer sun hit the midday point, I found myself liquefying, stretching and bending, craving hot rubbery action. That’s when I donned a sweet little cherry-printed sundress and headed to the grocery store.

A cool breeze chilled me from the first step into the air-conditioned environment. I was drawn to my favorite aisle as if pulled by an invisible band of elastic, one that would snap if I tugged on it. I found myself standing in front of the display of rubber gloves, almost unconsciously licking my lips as I perused the different styles.

There was the traditional type: lemon-yellow and made of heavy-duty rubber. Then there was a jokey set: bright pink with a painted diamond on the ring finger of the left hand and feather trim adorning both cuffs. But the gloves I reached for — the ones that wanted to come home with me — were a riot of vibrant colors. The three pairs came in one pack: purple, cobalt and rose. These gloves would never touch water, wouldn’t help scrub dishes or be put through any normal cleaning paces.

Clutching the package, I headed down the aisle, and that’s when I felt someone watching me. I’d been lost in my own haze, floating on endorphins as I fantasized. I had a plan for those gloves: to go home, get naked and stroke myself all over with the sensual rubber. But when I sensed someone’s gaze on me, I turned and saw a woman my age, mid-20s, with short blonde hair and fierce blue eyes. Standing a few feet from me, she glanced at the gloves in my hand, looked at my face and then grinned.

I had a flash of where I’d seen her before, at a fetish club in the city. She’d been clad head-to-toe in rubber — a red latex dress, rubbery stockings and shiny boots. I’d wanted to get close to her, but I’d been on a date that night, and she’d slipped away before I could snatch a moment to talk to her.

Now in the grocery store, she stepped closer and said two simple words that told me everything I needed to know: “Express lane.”

I nodded, and we hurried together to the checkout. I wondered what had been on her list. It was obvious what I was after. We exchanged names in line — I told her I was Linda; she said she was Cici. Then we bantered a bit about ladies we both knew. She’d dated a friend of mine long ago. I’d gone out with one of her coworkers. Finally, I was able to pay, and the two of us headed out into the sunlight. I was bouncy with glee. I’d planned a Sunday afternoon of solitary lust, but suddenly I was in for something special!

“I sucked on one latex-sheathed pointer while she urgently fucked me with another.”

Cici followed me to my place, and as soon as we were in the door, she started telling me what she wanted.

“You strip,” she said. I took off my clothes in a flash. “Give me the gloves.”

I followed her directions precisely. She slid on the purple pair, and then she did something that made my heart race and my pussy throb. She slid a rubber-clad finger between my juice-sluiced nether lips and slipped one from her free hand into my mouth. I sucked on one latex-sheathed pointer while she urgently fucked me with another. As I felt her plunge inside my cunt, I breathed in deeply, inhaling the heady perfume of fresh rubber.

Cici really knew her way around a fetish — and a woman’s body. In almost no time, she had me writhing on the cusp of an orgasm, fingering my clit with a precision that would have left me begging if my mouth hadn’t been full.

Yes, I’d already been in a hyper-aroused state at the store. I’d been at the end of my tether, as it were, unable to get off that morning with my hand alone. I needed my fix. I’d planned on spending all afternoon alone, playing with myself and some new rubber gloves. Taking turns with one color and the next.

The fact that I’d hooked up with Cici extended my pleasure in a way I hadn’t even allowed myself to imagine. She plucked at my clit, then let one gloved finger press against it as she rubbed hard, tight circles. I leaned back against the wall and spread my legs wide. I was going to climax, and I let her know.

“Do it,” she urged. “Come on my fingers. Then we’ll go to your bedroom and really start to play.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but the promise of future pleasure turned me on even more. I climaxed intensely while calling out her name, practically seeing stars behind my shut lids. I felt the lingering aftershocks for several seconds as I rode out my pleasure. Then Cici helped me to my bedroom as my legs were weak and rubbery.

Once we were in my boudoir, she took off her own clothes and handed me a second pair — the dark blue gloves. Together, we stroked one another with our rubber-sheathed hands. She sighed as I pinched her nipples. I moaned when she stroked my ass crack. She lingered at my back hole, making me squirm.

“Push it in,” I begged her.

“Where’s your lube?”

I pointed toward a dresser drawer. Minutes later, we were both glistening and drippy with the water-based lubricant. We rubbed against her each other, fondling every bit of flesh we could reach. I couldn’t believe what had begun as a day of horny solitude was ending with such an orgy of pleasure.

“What made you go to the store today?” I asked as she began to stroke into both of my holes at once — jamming my pussy and ass full of rubbery goodness.

“I needed something… ”

“Something,” I echoed.

“Something like this.”

When she pinched my clit and rammed a finger high up my ass, I came with a sigh — and a snap!

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