A latex girl thing
He saw her the moment she walked into the bondage club, and that was saying something given the amount of decadence in various forms of fetish and beauty: not all of it pretty in his lone opinion. Like many of the younger set of women, and a few of the chubbier ones, the thin, shapely creature wore skin tight black latex. She wore it from head to toe, which itself was not so unique there were a few men and women that wore cat suits, gimp suits, and bitch suits this night. It was the quality of her material and how it fit her; it was the wettest latex he had ever seen, and it clung to her body so tightly it was as if it were her first skin, not her second. Her ‘hair’ – some wig, or maybe part of the latex hood itself – featured what appeared to be flogger braids that were styled in a Betty Page-like hairdo. If he didn’t move in now, some other lucky bastard, or bitch perhaps, was going to score this thrill!
“Hello,” he said, nearly running into her and the bar, just as he noted – and feared – some leather-wearing brute was going for her too. The bald-headed hulk lingered, hoping she would notice him.
