Another weekend in my Handler's company: His devoted bike-pup. No wonder i was feeling so excited...!
i spent the morning packing - trying to keep my gear selections to a mimimum and my rucksack to a bearable weight. Since this was due to be a weekend of socialising and bike runs, i knew there would be little chance to wear my rubber - and so i decided to wear my sleeveless rubber catsuit, harness and riding boots down so as to give my Man a little something interesting to play with before we left for the coast...
He answers the door in beautiful crotch-high Wescos and leather shorts - with a beautiful grin splitting His handsome bearded face, holding my collar open and ready in His hand. It feels so good to be back 'home' - to simply let go of the incredible stresses of a working-week-from-hell and to let everything dissolve into simply being 'pup'.
So good in fact that it is *too* good - too much of a dissonance: and i find myself helplessly clinging to Him as i dissolve into tears - releasing the pent up stress and overwhelmed by how good He is to me, how simple and joyful it is to be His pup, and by how much and how deeply i love Him. But He holds me and strokes my head and tells me that everything will OK, and finally the sobbing subsides... Then He tips my chin with His hand and kisses my nose and makes me laugh through the tears: telling me that i may be nicely waterproofed in my rubber, but His T shirt is now soaked through in puppy tears and snot :)
Sir lets me gather my composure over some tea (gods, how british we are!), and we discuss a little of His plans for the weekend - but the pup can't keep its paws off His boots for long, and soon enough it is happily waggling its shiny rubber butt whilst it laps and licks and moans away into the leather and from under His cleated heels...
i pad up behind Him to the playroom - both of us intent on a little play before we head off.
Eager and ready, i leap up onto the couch - shuffle backwards and tip my head back with a grin. The leather mound of His shorts tastes so beautiful as i trace the line of His cock with my tongue - feel it pulse with life and arousal. i rub my beard and chin against that hardening curve - breath in the scent of leather and Manhood; my hands reach around and down to stoke the smooth leather stretched over His arse - i find the rolled edge of His boot tops where they nudge the top of His thigh, and gently work my fingers between them and the curve of His butt cheeks. Whilst my mouth and beard are absorbed in the taste and sensation of His meat tightly constrained in the leather i let my hands roam at will across His back, stroke His lats, tease His nipples.
Finally He pulls down the zipper - lets me gently work His meat from its confines with my tongue and teeth. i breath in the heady smell of leather and musk - and feel my hips helplessly grind my encased cock into the air in answering arousal.
i tease the length of His meat with long slow licks from a flat wet tongue - tracing the ridge under His cock from balls to glans and back again. Feeling the texture of His skin, from the many-folded ridges of His balls to the veined length of His cock - the tautness of his frenum and the sweet satin smoothness of His glans. Watching a glistening bead of precum form - and then delicately catching it with the end of my tongue - gently smoothing its sweet wetness around and across the rest of His head whilst He moans and shudders in pleasure.
He tells me to climb down from the bench and i sink down onto my knees before Him - i show Him my devotion and arousal by covering Him in kisses: showing His flesh and His leather equal devotion and love. He pushes me down onto His boots - lets me work my face into the leather - i feel the cleats of His other boot upon my kneck and groan with pleasure as He pushes me down: pins me between them in breathless surrender.
He lifts His boot and lets me carefully work my way up His boot leather and back to His cock - a long wet trail of puppy-drool linking boots and Manhood in a line of love and arousal.
He unclips a chain lead from His belt - reaches behind me; i feel the click as He attaches it to the ring on my chest harness, then the tightening of the chain as He fastens the other end to the leg of the couch - He growls down at the eager look on His dog's face as it feels the restraint and strains against it towards Him: knows that its hunger is deepened from this sign from Him that it is under HIs control until He decides otherwise.
Restrained, it returns its attentions to His cock - lets itself lose everything in the perfect and infinite moment of loving and serving Him. Not using my throat this time - just my tongue. Long and thick, muscular and mobile, gently licking and probing and testing and teasing - relentless and mercilous: a muscular probosis probing out my Man's juices and sweet nectar.
Hearing His voice - breathing a moan of my own against His flesh in response:
"Do it - make it happen boy"
Allowing my senses to become totally absorbed in the taste and the feel of Him - all but lost in the sensations - letting my instincts take over and allowing my consious mind to drift. Allowing that instinctive self to become totally focused on the nuances of His responces and reactions: the pulse in His cock-head, the subtle movement of His hips, an involuntarily in-drawn breath or a tightening of His hand against the back of my head - letting those signs guide my tongue to tease and carress Him to ever greater heights of pleasure and arousal - pushing Him closer and closer to orgasm with just my tongue.
i feel Him start to tremble - hear Him gasping, laughing: "what is He doing?!"
Keeping Him on the edge is now my one goal. My tongue is relentless, mercilous: rippling and twisting around and beneath Him - probing and teasing, flicking and massaging - long and wet and muscular. i tempt and tease - keep changing the rhythm and focus of my lapping - never quite giving Him enough to push Himself over the edge and into release. He pants and grunts, gasps and shudders - His hands clench and relax against my head, i sense that He is fighting the urge to push me away so He can get respite, yet is too caught up in these overwhelming sensations that He does not yet want to end...
But finally i relent - reach up and gently stroke along underneath His balls and perineum; a sensation that i know will be the final touch. He gives a shuddering breath and His hands hold my head still - and He finally cums in shuddering gasps and helpless shaking.
i eagerly swallow and lap up every sweet beautiful drop of His cum - but then i still don't stop: even though i know that He is always painfully sensitive afterwards - instead i am fastened tight around Him, my tongue teasing and carressing until He is laughing and giggling - and shaking so hard that He can hardly stand up...
His reaction is so intimate and intense that it feels like i share His orgasm within my own throat. It is the most beautiful gift - and the greatest reward i could ever wish for.
He finally finds beath to gasp that it is "Like being fucked by a limpit!" - and i finally have to let Him go in breathless giggles of my own.
He later tells me that it was the Best sex.
i can't face stripping out of my rubber to dress in my bike gear, and so i ask for both His advice and His permission to wear the rubber beneath my leathers. He gives me a sexy grin and says yes, then calls me "Pervert!" when He catches me stroking my hands across the smooth chlorinated silkiness as i pull on the padded leather over the top of it. It feels so amazing to wear the rubber like this: a rubber inner skin beneath the tough outer leather - and i'm sure that i could never have managed it without the extra comfort of the chlorination that stops the rubber from pinching or pulling under the tight leather.
It is a glorious ride down too - even though we have to dodge the clouds and try to stay ahead of the rain (mostly!). But we still find time to make our customary pitt-stop in Shaftsbury - for tea and warmed scones and treakle tart with Purbeck ice-cream (yum!).
Unfortunately, the further South we go, the more the darkening weather seems to catch us up - and our luck runs out as the rain begins to fall at the roundabout heading into Poole; it feels like a deluge by the time we are in Bournemouth proper - and we have to limp between the sheltering cover of the trees - too wet now and too close to our destination to make it worth stopping and pulling on our wet-weather gear...
But finally we can see the sea-front - and then we are pulling up into the car-park at our hotel - our leather damp and steaming (but the dog curiously comfortable inside it's waterproofing rubber beneath ;) ).
i guiltily watch whilst He goes back into the rain to collect the panniers (i offered: but He says they are too complicated for a pup with 'no opposable thumbs' ;) ).
It is a beautiful room - with a sea view from the bed - but we are both tired from the ride, and so curl up for a nap
We wake in the early evening, in a glorious tangle of limbs. i turn to nuzzle and kiss Him, and He gently pushes me down under the covers for a little tender devotion - my warm rubber body curled against His thigh whilst my tongue and beard cover Him in kisses. But He only lets me give Him a 'lick and a promise' before He decides that i would be more gainfully employed getting us up and out for dinner.
We settle on a wonderful meal at a great sea-front Italian restaurant we have been to before; whilst we eat we also have the dubious pleasure of watching the rain lash over the coast - it is wonderfully dramatic and romantic, but luckily it stops before we have to head back to the hotel.
By the time we get back i have spent nearly 12 hours in rubber, and i am getting just a little sore behind the knees - so my Man helps me to peel it off before running a bath so that we can soak and chill and chat late into the night. We finally fall into bed, knowing that tomorrow will bring a free day to ride and chat and play before the official MSC meet begins in the evening.
'Hide and Sea 2011' posts: