An Interesting Experience Wearing Only Rubber Poncho, Boots, And Gloves

[Another story first posted in another group, but appropriate to copy here as it occurred at the beach.]

I have always found great pleasure in taking walks in the rain and mud wearing a rubberized poncho, rubber boots, and shoulder-length, unlined rubber gloves. On vacations I always take my rubber things along in case such an opportunity presents itself. One warm summer’s evening at the beach a severe thunderstorm swept in from the ocean with a heavy downpour. I could not risk going out for a walk with lightning about, but at our hotel room the rain was blowing directly onto our balcony and a waterfall was pouring off the balcony above onto ours. On impulse I got naked, pulled on my poncho and rubber gloves, worked my bare feet into my thin, unlined, black Totes rubber boots, opened the sliding glass door onto the balcony and stepped out into the maelstrom. (My wife, worried about the lightning, told me I was crazy and stayed inside.) I dragged a plastic chair to the edge of the balcony and sat down where the torrent running off the balcony above poured directly onto my poncho. I stretched out my legs and pulled the front of the poncho out like a tent so the tops of my rubber boots were just barely covered by the edge of the poncho, and the river of water running down the front of the poncho was directed onto my rubber boots. I then rested my rubber-gloved hands on the arms of the chair, the cuffs of the long gloves remaining inside the poncho. Water drummed thunderously onto the poncho and my thin rubber boots were quivering continuously as the water cascaded onto them. The wind caused the rain to swirl about, and within seconds my poncho, gloves, and rubber boots were drenched, while my naked body underneath remained dry. Watching my rubber boots in fascination I flexed and extended my toes and rolled my ankles as my shiny, wet, quivering rubber boots, water beating mercilessly upon them, folded and creased in response to the motions of my feet. In a state of high arousal my penis now was fully turgid but the poncho was stretched out above my erection, not touching it, and my hands remained on the arms of the chair. Suddenly, to my astonishment, as I watched my wet, glistening rubber boots creasing and quivering on my bare feet, I began to feel the unmistakable rhythmic throb of an impending ***********, and as the throbbing intensified there was no thought of stopping it. I thrust my pelvis forward and let the waves of ecstasy envelop me, never touching my penis as the ejaculum burst forth. When it finally subsided I slumped in the chair, spent from that amazing spontaneous ******, and luxuriated in the cataract still cascading onto my poncho. When the deluge eventually abated, I turned and called to my wife, "Sweetheart, you’ll never guess what happened out here--would you please toss me a towel?" This experience remains vivid in my memory, 30 years later, as the only ****** I have ever had without any physical stimulation of my penis—I suppose it was the waking equivalent of a "wet"—(pun intended)—dream!
barefeetinrubberboots barefeetinrubberboots
66-70, M
Nov 26, 2012