Latex Over the Glass

The latex had taken twenty minutes to get on properly. It was black, high-shine, a full catsuit with a high neck and long sleeves, the zipper running from the hollow of her throat all the way down her spine to the small of her back. Claire stood in the middle of the living room and let the material settle and warm against her skin. The apartment was heated. Mark had already cleared the glass coffee table of magazines and coasters and left only a folded dark towel at the far end so nothing would slide.

He sat in the armchair, naked, cock hard and resting against his stomach, and watched her. He had helped with the zipper and with the thin layer of lube at her wrists so the gloves went on without catching. Now he waited while she moved. The latex creaked softly with every shift of her weight. Her nipples were visible as tight points under the glossy surface. Between her legs the suit had been cut with a wide open panel that left her cunt and ass completely bare, the edges of the latex framing her.

Claire turned to face the table, placed both gloved hands flat on the glass, and bent forward until her chest and the side of her face rested on the cool surface. The position pushed her ass up and open. She was already wet; the shine between her legs caught the overhead light when she spread her feet a little wider for balance. Mark stood. He walked around the table once, looking at her from every angle, then stopped behind her. He ran a palm over the latex at her lower back, feeling the heat of her through it, then slid two fingers into her cunt. She was soaked. She pushed back onto his hand with a low sound. He fucked her with his fingers for a full minute, slow and deep, thumb resting just above her clit at the edge of the opening, until her breathing turned uneven and her hips started to rock.

He pulled his fingers out, wiped them on the inside of her thigh, and lined his cock up. The first stroke sank all the way in. The glass took most of her weight. He gripped the latex at her hips, the material slick under his hands, and fucked her in long, steady strokes. Every thrust made the catsuit shift and shine. Underneath them, in the reflection on the glass, she could see her own face pressed to the table, mouth open, and the clear view of his cock disappearing into her through the open panel. She came the first time like that, cunt clenching hard around him, a broken sound against the glass.

He did not slow down. He pulled almost all the way out until the head caught, then drove back in, over and over, until the wet sound of it filled the room and her slick ran down his balls. Her second orgasm hit while he was buried deep. She said his name once, voice thin. He kept the same pace until his thighs burned, then stayed pressed tight against her and came inside her in heavy, pulsing throbs. She felt every one. When he finally pulled out, a thick string of come followed and dripped onto the towel. He ran two fingers through the mess and pushed them back into her, fucking her slowly with them while she stayed bent over the table, still catching her breath.

Later she straightened. The latex was still on, creased at the elbows and hips. He unzipped her carefully from the neck downward. The suit peeled away in one heavy piece, leaving her skin flushed and damp underneath. She sat on the edge of the glass table, legs open, and pulled him between them. He was hard again. She reached down, guided him in, and rode him there, bare now, the cool glass under her ass. She came a third time with her arms around his neck and her mouth against his. He came inside her again, hips jerking. They left the latex in a glossy heap on the floor. The glass still held the faint outline of her hands and the smear of her breath. Neither of them moved to clean it yet. They stayed like that for a while, her still on the edge of the table with his come leaking out of her, him standing between her legs with his hands on her thighs. She reached down and rubbed two fingers through the mess, then brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean while he watched. He got hard again from the sight. She turned, bent back over the glass, and told him to fuck her one more time with the latex still on the floor where she could see it. He did. He came across her lower back this time because she asked him to. She stayed bent until it cooled, then stood and kissed him, tasting herself. The catsuit stayed where it had fallen. They would deal with it later. She made him describe exactly what he had seen in the reflection while she sat on his lap on the floor, still naked, his cock softening inside her. She came one more time from his fingers and the sound of his voice. When they finally stood the latex was cold. She folded it carefully and put it in the bag she had brought. On the way out she told him the glass table needed another round next weekend, this time with the ankle boots that matched the suit. He said he would clear the table again. The next weekend she arrived already in the latex under a long coat. He had the table clear. She bent over it before the coat was fully off. He fucked her through the open panel until she came twice, then unzipped her just enough to come across the glossy surface of her lower back. She made him lick it off the latex before she let him peel the suit the rest of the way down. They left the glass marked again.