The joy of Windsurfing

I’ve always enjoyed wearing wetsuits. Always black and always slightly too tight, but the thought of combining my private fetish with an actual sexual encounter was just one fantasy too far. Until, that is, I met Susan and Paul.

Both tall and very fit, I had met them windsurfing on our local lake. Their skill on the water was obvious to all. Equally obvious was the tone of their muscular bodies, revealed rather than hidden by the skin-tight fit of their wetsuits. I wasn’t surprised that I should find Susan’s figure so alluring. No one could fail to be attracted by her firm breasts encased in tight neoprene, her body threatening to break free of its rubber bonds at any moment. What did surprise me though was how often I found myself glancing at Paul. The shiny black rubber wrapped around his chest and his muscular thighs, but most often I caught myself admiring his tight ass, flexing as he carried his board back and forward to the water.

Acquaintance became friendship and eventually fantasy became fact. After one particularly cold afternoon on the lake, we retreated to the changing rooms to recover. Standing in the shower, the warm water streaming over my glistening suit, I felt my body slowly revive. I reached back to unzip my suit and felt the zip snag at the top. The price of vanity, I thought – a suit slightly larger would not have had this problem. Only one thing for it – I called out to Paul. Could he help me with the zip? He wandered into the shower area – still suited up and smiling at my predicament.

Sure no problem, he said, turn-around. I did as he said, then felt his hands at the back of my neck and heard his voice close behind me. Lean forward a little, he instructed, and as I did so I felt my ass press up against him and felt a hand moving over the smooth neoprene covering my thigh.

Nice suit, he said. That’s it, I’ll just slide the zip right down – don’t want it to snag again. I could feel his hand moving down with the zip, all the time my breathing getting faster and shallower, not wanting him to stop. And then his hands were inside my suit, sliding up my back to my shoulders. I’ll just help you out of this, he said as he peeled the top of the suit off my shoulders and down my arms. I was lost – don’t stop, don’t stop – reach down, grab my cock, wrap your hands around it. But then another voice broke through.

Not interrupting anything, am I? Showers in our rooms are cold. Susan, smiling and suited stepped into the shower in front of me, her black rubber breasts pressing firmly into my chest. Let me help you out of that, and taking over from Paul she peeled my suit down past my hips, my cock springing up as it was released from its rubber cage.

Please, I gasped, hold it, squeeze it, suck it, do something! Oh no, she said, we have other plans for you, and as some understanding flitted through my brain I heard a zip behind me being lowered. One of her hands cupped my balls and the other teased its way around my ass. Her fingers snaked towards my ass-hole and then, mingled with the warm water I felt one finger, then two, pressing into me.

Yes, other plans, she said, as her fingers eased back and forward. Then, smiling at me, her hands moved to my hips and eased them apart. Behind me, I could feel Paul pressing against me, but now his large cock was gliding between my ass cheeks. Stick it in, all the way, fuck me, my mind shrieked. Then I could feel the head of his cock at my ass-hole, stretching me, forcing me.

Susan could see the look of panic on my face, but she smiled and ran a finger round my lips. It won’t hurt - trust me, she said. She lied, it hurt. As my mouth opened to scream she clenched her face over mine, her hands tightly grasping the sides of my head. As Paul’s cock plunged deep in my ass, her tongue thrust hot into my mouth. Paul’s pace increased, his hands tight on my waist, his breathing becoming more laboured until with a loud grunt I felt his cum surging into my ass.

And then stillness, no one moved. At last as Paul eased back his cock, Susan released me. Standing back to admire us both, she smiled and said you’re ours now. Then reaching up, her fingers wrapped around my nipples, twisting them tightly until I was f***ed to my knees. Now wank – I want to see your cum dripping over my feet.

So, kneeling before Paul and Susan I wanked. On my knees I watched as she absentmindedly ran her fingers over her wet-suited crotch and breasts. On my knees I rubbed my cock until cum spurted out over her rubber-clad feet. And on my knees I leant forward to lick it all up.

And she was right. I am theirs’ now - their rubber plaything, their slave, their slut. And, of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way.