Glass and Latex

The coffee table was low and square and made of thick tempered glass with a simple steel frame. Elena had bought it because she liked the way it reflected the ceiling light and because it was easy to wipe clean. Tonight she liked it for a different reason. The living room was dim except for the single lamp in the corner. The rest of the apartment was dark. Daniel had texted that he was ten minutes away. She had used the time.

She was already dressed when he came home. Full latex catsuit, black, high-gloss, the kind that needed powder and patience and a second pair of hands to get into properly. She had managed it alone. The suit covered her from neck to ankles. The only openings were the ones she had left for him: a zipper that ran from the base of her throat down between her breasts and stopped just above her navel, and a second zipper between her legs that she had not yet opened. The latex clung to every curve. When she moved the material creaked and flashed under the lamp, catching the light in long bright streaks across her ass and thighs. Her nipples were hard under the suit. She had been wet since she zipped it up. It had the same charge as the appeal of glossy accessories.

“Bend over,” he said as soon as the door closed behind him.

She did. Palms flat on the glass, back arched, ass raised. The table was low enough that her tits pressed against the cool surface. From underneath, through the glass, Daniel could see the full shape of them, the way the latex stretched across her nipples, the faint outline of the zipper, the way her breath fogged the glass in small patches. He stood behind her and ran both hands over the suit. The material was slick. His fingers left streaks that slowly disappeared. He gripped her hips and pulled her back against him so she could feel how hard he already was through his jeans.

He opened the crotch zipper. The latex parted with a soft sound. She was already wet, the skin underneath shiny. He pushed two fingers into her and felt her clench hard around them. She made a small sound and pushed back. He worked her open until she was dripping onto the glass, thick strings of it connecting her cunt to the table, then unzipped his jeans and pushed his cock in in one long stroke. It had the same charge as a different kind of leather fantasy.

The latex made everything tighter. Every time he thrust the suit pulled against her skin and the sound of it—slick, wet, rubber on skin—filled the room. He held her hips and fucked her hard enough that the table shifted an inch across the floor. Under the glass her face was visible, mouth open, eyes half-closed, a thin line of spit connecting her lower lip to the surface. He watched her tits flatten and bounce against the glass. He watched his own cock disappear into her and reappear, shining with her wetness, the latex frame of the open zipper stretched around the base.

“Look at yourself,” he said.

She turned her head. In the reflection on the glass she could see the stretch of the latex across her back and the way his hands gripped the suit and the way her own mouth hung open. She came with a sharp cry, cunt pulsing around him, more wetness running down her thighs and onto the table in a sudden rush. He did not stop. He fucked her through it, the wet sounds louder now, then pulled out, turned her, and made her lie on her back on the glass so he could watch her face while he pushed back in. The latex creaked under her. Her heels—still on, the same black ones she had worn to work—scraped the floor. He came inside her with his hands braced on either side of her head, cock buried, the glass fogging under her breath, his come already leaking out around him and pooling under her ass.

Afterward he stayed inside her until he softened. When he pulled out a thick string of come followed and dripped onto the glass. She lay there, legs still spread, the crotch zipper open, the suit shining under the light, chest rising and falling. He ran a finger through the mess on the table and pushed it back into her. She sighed and closed her eyes and clenched around his finger.

“Again,” she said. “But this time leave the zipper closed until I ask. I want to feel it through the latex first.”

He zipped her back up. The latex sealed over her cunt, already slick inside, the material immediately darkening where her wetness soaked through from the other side. He made her stand, turned her, and bent her over the table again. This time he rubbed the head of his cock over the sealed zipper until the material was wet and the shape of her was clear underneath, the heat of her obvious even through the rubber. He fucked the zipper for a while, slow strokes that made the latex squeak, until she was begging. When she finally told him to open it he did it slowly, one tooth at a time, and pushed back into the heat while she watched their reflection in the glass and told him not to stop until the table was covered and she couldn’t stand anymore.

He fucked her until the glass was smeared and her legs were shaking and she had come twice more. The second time he pulled out and came across the latex over her ass, thick white stripes that ran down the curve and dripped onto the floor. She stayed bent over, breathing hard, and told him to rub it in. He did. The latex turned cloudy where his fingers worked. She laughed, low and wrecked, and said they were going to need more lube before the night was over. He made her stay bent over while he went to the bedroom for the bottle. When he came back she was still in position, the latex shining, his come already starting to dry in streaks across her ass. He poured lube over the sealed zipper and rubbed the head of his cock through it until she was whimpering. Then he opened it again and fucked her standing, one of her knees up on the glass, the angle deep enough that she came almost immediately, cunt fluttering around him, more wetness running down her leg and onto his balls. He kept going until the table was a mess and she was begging him to come. He pulled out at the last second and finished across the small of her back, the latex turning opaque where it landed. She reached back, scooped some up with two fingers, and pushed it into her mouth while she looked at him in the reflection.