Latex is like a second skin, sometimes a better skin. A skin that allows me to evolve into a shiny, sexual creature that revels in aesthetic and sensation. As I dress its icy cool grip startles me, still I welcome our union and as our time together moves on there is unity and there is warmth as slick with sweat I feel as if I am melting and merging, my dress is me, I am my dress.
There is no throwing on of Latex. It is unforgiving and demands you treat it with the careful attention it deserves. The better you treat it, the more pliable it becomes for you when you want to adorn yourself with its beauty. Washing, shining, storing; it matters, maybe not to you, but those things are everything to your Latex.
My reaction to Latex is good. His reaction to Latex is addictive. Wide eyes filled with desire. He wants to touch, with his hands, with his face, with his dick. Every part of him becomes alive with an urge to have my Latex clad body envelop him and I am happy to oblige. From facesitting in Latex leggings to Latex encased handjobs.
Then there’s the joy I find when he’s in Latex. Shiny, sexy, subby boy. Beautiful body highlighted by tight, latexy goodness. Oh yes, I love this too.
Many adventures have been had whilst one or both of us has been dressed in Latex, it is, however, a kink that keeps on giving. There is so much more to explore; more coverage, more styles, more full-on Latex fucking.