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More About Womens' Rubber Mackintoshes

With a life long fetish for black rubber mackintoshes and thigh length rubber waders I often found I could sneak away and enjoy my rubber games when my mother's three sisters came to visit.  They would become so involved in their conversation that nobody bothered what I was up to.  I frequently took my mackintosh and rubber boots as it was in childhood and hide in the garden shed at the bottom of the garden. There I would make my 'motorbike' out of what was stored there and with my mackintosh and rubber boots on get astride and enjoy the sensation of rubber, the smell that drove me frantic and that wonderful rippling sound that mackintoshes make when you move.  And move is what I did, until I was rewarded with a beautiful climax known only to all those of both sexes who find rubber mackintoshes erotically stimulating and who find the need to achieve satisfaction irresistable.   

So came the day when the aunties had left their raincoats in the hall hanging on various pegs.  I had not really noticed them before but when I passed them today there was a strong smell of rubber, that particularly 'mackintoshy' smell that acts like an alarm bell to a mackintosh lover.  I stopped and touched them. They rustled and rippled but they were not proper mackintoshes I felt as they were thinly coated in rubber on the inside whereas a proper mackintosh is black rubber on the outside.  The aunties were having tea in the garden so I was alone in the house.  The longer I stood there fondling a rather useful brown mack the more it seemed to be doing the right sort of thing for my excesses.  It quickly became necessary to have this mackintosh and to use it and enjoy it with my own mackintosh on.  Upstairs in my room I spread it on my bed and with my mackintosh on but no rubber boots in case a quick retreat became necessary, I began to fondle the new acquisition, rolling myself against it, lying on top of it, clutching it against myself. The rubber smell was powerful and  very exciting.  The texture was supple and made a crackly sound rather than the ripple I was used to.  The contrast made me wild to enjoy it so I spread it out rubber side up and lay on top of it and clutched two handfulls of it underneath me and used it frantically. I was so stimulated by the feel of it and the smell of it that it took only a few seconds to reach a beautiful climax and I lay there with my nose against the soft rubber breathing in the erotic aroma.  It had been such a wild experience that in no time I found I had to do it again and although it took me a little longer the ripplng and rustling and occasional squeak of rubber against rubber soon ended in a second explosive experience of erotic delight with this new discovery, a woman's lightly rubberised cotton mackintosh as an additional source of  pleasure.  I was careful to hang it back in the hall before chancing any more time.  The aunties were still chatting excitedly and the one whose mackintosh I had enjoyed so much had no idea what had just hapened to it.  I smiled.  And felt satisfied in more ways than one.   

rubberider rubberider 46-50, M 2 Responses Apr 23, 2010

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Wow!!! I also experienced the same experience and effect!!! Beautiful story!! Thank you for sharing!!!

Has the love of rubber lasted through your life as has mine. I am sitting here age 82 wearing a gorgeous floor length, light blue, hooded mac, tightly belted. Since I am alone now I can do as I wish and often wear one or more macs 24hours a day. Unfortunately they are the light weight ones from Thailand etc with no smell of rubber but the feeling s there and I imagine a very sexy lady tying me up in them and raping me mercilessly.<br />
With e it started as a result of a bad accident when I jumped off a moving vehicle, age 3. Landed on a loose cinder sidewalk and tore my hands, knees and chin to rage. A lady nearby wrapped the bleeding mess in her mac and rushed to a nearby doctors house. There was little love in our house, my father was like the Kennedys, need a new peice of *** every day. I felt love from her and later used to go to the neighbor ladies and they would let me wrap myself, or wrap me for a while in their macs. Neither of two wives wanted anything to do with it but I kept some macs secretly and when the opportunity came enjoyed brief moments. Now I am alone and can as I said do what I like. Now I have about 130 macs mainly bought from the Value Village stores here in Toronto, Canada.