I left the road and went down to the beach between two houses. They didn't look occupied, as a matter of fact, they looked more abandoned than anything else. If anyone arrives to complain, I'll use my best "city" accent to explain my stupidity as a stranger, and hustle on.

I threw my bag and towel on the sand, and stripped down to my trunks. It was an automatic reaction to suck in my gut, even with no one around to see me! Got to get some exercise, got to get back in shape, got to, got to... Well, no one to see, or criticize, let it hang out! I padded to the water's edge, not really planning to swim, but the water wasn't cold, wasn't warm. Hey, it's good exercise, and there I was.

I waded out to waist-deep level, noting that the sandy bottom and fairly clean water allowed my to see farther than I would have expected. Holding my breath, I ducked under and pushed off for several feet underwater. I could see several feet, and started to enjoy myself. I'm not a great swimmer, but always liked to submerge and hold my breath, shooting to the surface and gasping for air. I fooled around a while, doing just that, playing at being a porpoise, then a frog, then Submariner-man. Damn-fool antics, but I was enjoying the water. I stayed close to shore, but gradually worked out to deeper water. After surfacing, and dog-paddling while I adjusted the webbed jock in my trunks (and checking everything briefly, why not, it felt good! Wonder what would it be like, out in the open, to jerk-off in the water? I entertained the thought, and worked at it for a little while, but decided to stuff it back in and continue.)

I took a deep breath, pushed myself under the water, down about ten or twelve feet, and got the shock of my life! I almost swam, headfirst, into an almost stationery figure, not far below the surface. It was a diver, and he was motionless, almost upright, appearing to be expecting me. He had his arms out to prevent a collision, but I swam right up against his chest, and then headed for the surface.

He surfaced about six or eight feet away, and turned facing me. We were both bobbing in a gentle swell. Even in my surprise, I couldn't help noting the heavy mask and hood, and his shoulders in his rubber suit. I could feel myself twitch at the crotch, even as I spit water and tried to appear nonchalant.

"Almost had to file an accident report," his muffled voice came from his mask, "if you were going any faster, I'd have a black-and-blue mark!" He didn't sound angry, or upset, more friendly and with humor in the words. "When I watched you swimming, and saw you surface that last time, I didn't think you'd be back down so fast." He went back to breathing compressed air, and I could hear the whoosh and hiss. (Wild, great outfit, what's it like, suited up like that?)

(Watched me, saw me on the surface, what else did this guy see?) My face must have gotten red, because he went on: "It's a great day to be in the water, isn't it? You were enjoying it until I came along." Still got the impresssion this guy was smiling , under that mask, but he probably just came along and saw me, without details. Hope so...

We both started back to the shore, not thirty feet away, but he pulled ahead and reached it before I did. As he stood up in the chest deep water, he turned and removed his fins, then his mask, after loosening the head straps. He caught them under his arm and waited for me. We stood in the water, and he offered his hand: "Name's Ray, what's your's?" "Joel," I responded, "and I hope I didn't cause you any trouble down there." "Nothing I couldn't handle," Ray grinned, "was ready to come out and was on my way back, when we ran into each other."

"Is this private property?" I started, in my best �stranger' voice, "I didn't think anyone lived on the water here." Ray moved up onto the sand, and I followed him. He sat down on the sand, pulled off his fins: "My home away from home is up there," he said, pointing to the larger of the houses above us. "I was trying out this used drysuit that I just got. It's got some wear spots and I wanted to check it out for leaks. Problem is: I think I know where they are, but it's not easy to fix." He stood up and walked over to me, standing chest to chest, and put his hand on top of our heads: "Yup, we're just about the same size. Want to do me a favor?"

(This guy is standing there, full-clad in an awesome rubber suit from head to toe, with his hooded head inches from mine, and he wants me to do HIM a favor?) I said "Sure, what can I do?" (Can I pat down those rubber shoulders and chest, grope for leaks, check him out? Sure..., in your dreams, Joel!)

"Come on up to the house," Ray said, "we can work better there." I snatched up my towel to cover the mound in my trunks, grabbed the rest of my stuff and followed him into the lower level of the house.

The room we entered seemed cluttered with all sorts of diving gear, and I stood there, clutching my towel to my midsection. Ray placed his mask and fins on a workbench and unbuckled the straps holding his tanks. He swung them to the floor, moving them to the corner. Turning away, from me, he asked: "Give me a hand with this zipper, would you? It's harder to do by yourself, and you can reach it, easy." I moved to his back and pulled the heavy zipper across his shoulders, almost holding my breath, excited, just being this close to a man in so much rubber!

The rush of smells almost knocked me down: salt water, sweat and a man's body hit me like a warm wave. "Don't get too close," Ray laughed, "these suits get hot, and there's no place for the juice to go." Too close?! I could have stuck my head down that slot, but resisted the urge, this guy would punch my lights out!

Ray pulled the hood and shoulders off his upper torso, then worked the suit down to his waist. All the time, I could hear every squeak of the heavy rubber against his skin. He sat down on a bench and peeled his rubber skin down his legs, until the suit lay, deflated, on the floor. It wasn't the only delated thing in the room: my erection almost vanished as the man-suit emptied. Funny, I was more excited by it's being occupied than anything else. A fetish is a strange and mysterious thing.

Ray was right, we were just about the same size: he pulled a few more pounds than I did, but it was distributed better than my shape. "Bear" was the word that came into mind, looking at him, while "beer gut" better described my shape. His black speedos fit his form, perfectly. The combination of my assessment, his face and his brief conversation made me feel I'd like to get to know him better.

I started to pull my slacks over my almost dry trunks, feeling dressed was better than not. "Whoa, Joel," Ray called, "I though you had some time to give me some help?" "I do," I said, "what can I do?"

"I need someone to suit up, so I can go over the fabric on this suit. When it's on a body, you can really check for damage. Do you mind suiting up and letting me go over it?" (I could not believe the words he was saying. Did he mean he wanted ME in that suit? Was that the favor he wanted?)

I just nodded, No...didn't mind. Nodded Yes, would do it, Yes, he could. I only said: "Why not, what do I do?" "First, strip down, again, and sit over here on the bench," Ray said, and got up and went up the stairs. I pulled off my slacks, and sat down on the bench, reaching down and lifting the shoulder of the rubber suit. It was heavy, and carried that strong, rubber smell that turns me on. I pulled open the entry slot and breathed in that heady mix of smells, and exhaled, slowly. I heard Ray coming back down the stairs, and pulled the suit over my lap.

"Getting ready to suit up?" Ray called, "let me give you a hand. It's not easy, the first time. Sorry your baptism had to be in my sweaty suit, but, if you want, I can rinse it out first...won't take a minute." I didn't want that, wanted it just the way it was, warm, sweaty, and recently occupied, but Ray was concerned, so I just said: "What's the difference, I don't mind."

Ray looked pleased at that response, and started straightening out the rubber legs of the suit. "Then, if it's all right, let's get going. You might want to go bareassed, those boxer trunks can get bunched up, get real uncomfortable. It's up to you. Get your legs in, up to the knees, snug, then up to your waist. I'll be right back in." He moved outside, probably to put me at my ease, and I took his advice, tossing my trunks aside. I put my feet through the slot at the upper end of the suit and slid them into the rubber. I could feel my legs grab then slip through the wet lining. I proceeded to stand and fit the suit up to my waist, with it hanging tight around me. "Work your hands and arms into the gloves and sleeves," Ray told me, coming back inside, and I did. The wet rubber was tight all around my legs and my chest, and the hood dangled below my chin. "Duck your head forward," Ray said, showing me how. He stood behind me, reaching around me and grasping the edge of the entry slot. He pulled the rubber over my head and shoulders and it settled with a squeal and a pop! I realized that my hearing was affected by the rubber hood, and noises were different. My jaw was gripped in the opening of the hood, and I could feel my face squeezed all around.

Ray stepped around in front of me. "Slipped on my suit, like a pro," he smiled, "told you we were about the same size!" He adjusted the hood around my face, and asked: "How does it feel? Lot different than street duds."

(Well, Ray, I could have told him: It feels like nothing else I've ever felt. It feels like I've died and gone to heaven. This rubber skin feels like a second one to me. Nothing has ever made me feel so good before. I hope this rubber crotch has plenty of give, �cause I got another hardon I don't believe!)

"OK," was my public reply to Ray, I couldn't give away what I was feeling, he'd toss me out on my ear! He stood, staring at me, with a wide grin, for what seemed a long time. Then, he stepped around in back of me, and said: "Got to finish you up, make you watertight and get this zipper closed." He tugged and pulled at the heavy zipper, closing me, with finality, into the rubber suit. He seemed to be working at the zipper over my right shoulder and then said: "Damn, that pull came off again, something else to have to fix." He showed me the tabbed metal pull in his hand. "No way you're getting out of that suit until I fix this," he grinned, but just put it in his pocket.

"Let's get the air out, next," Ray told me, "press on that button on your chest." I did, but nothing seemed to change. "Let me work it out," he said, squatting in front of me. He proceeded to run his hands up from my rubber boots to my hips, and I began to really worry. My erection was disguised in the rubber folds at my crotch, but wouldn't stand much contact! I was sure I felt him come across it, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. He had me bend and twist, and I could hear air being forced out, until the suit was more tightly pressed against my skin. Then, he had me release the button.

Still with that smile across his face, Ray picked up the tank rack and mask he had left at the door. "Might as well go the whole nine yards, you can see how everything works, and I can check the wear points better. It'll only take a minute to gear you up, mind?"

Mind? This was getting better and better. Ray strapped me into the heavy tanks and fastened them all snugly. The one through my crotch gave him some difficulty, and he finally pulled it tight. Then, he positioned the mask on my face and buckled the straps around my head. I found my nose and mouth pressed into formed pockets, and when he open the valve, the rubbery smell of air was intoxicating. It was weird to hear myself breathing in and out through the regulator. The push and pull of my breathing added to the intoxication I was feeling. I was totally immersed in a rubber world, for the first time, and loved it!

"Everything OK?" Ray called to me, breaking the dream, "You can get to feelin' a little closed in, the first time." I assured him that everything was just fine. "I got to make a call, upstairs, then I can work on the suit, and get you out of it. I'll be right back down, not more than ten or fifteen minutes, can you hold on �til then?" I wanted him out of there anyway, and waved him off, up the stairs.

I was alone, in this awesome rubber suit. I couldn't help groping my crotch, getting a feel for my hardon, fingering and rubbing. The heavy rubber skin slid on my wet skin, provoking strange and sensual longings. My throbbing cock and balls were pressed tightly against my crotch by the thick, reinforced rubber. My erection felt great! It had been rising and falling for so long. What would happen if I came, in Ray's suit? Could I cover it up, wipe it out before he found it, would it show, what if, maybe... I was twisting and bending, forcing the thick rubber material to massage my hot cock, breathing that rubbery air, in my mask, heavier and heavier, almost committed to coming then and there, and not caring, because it felt so damn good, and...

I felt a hand on my shoulder! Ray had come back down the stairs, and I never even noticed. I was glad the mask covered my embarrassment, I hoped I hadn't been too obvious. "I was just getting used to how a real diver feels, in this gear," I managed, in explanation. "After a while, it doesn't feel like you're suited up, it feels normal." Boy, was I fumbling!

"Looked like you were really getting into it all right," Ray answered. "Feels like a second skin, don't it? "Cept you're totally different, in that skin." He suddenly reached over and cupped my crotch in his hand, and I jerked back, instinctively. "Whoa, there, Joel," he said, "just want to check something, for myself. I was right, you were made for this gear, no denying the evidence." He pressed his hand against my shrinking erection, and continued: "No problem, lots of guys get hard in rubber, especially bareassed, just the unexpected friction. Did you ever think you would?" I nodded, shook my head, agreed, denied, I can't remember all my thoughts, just enjoying his hand where it was.

"Let's see what we can do about this," Ray spoke into my rubber hood, next to my ear, and went over to the work bench. He held something behind his back, and walked past me. I started to turn to face him, but he put his hand on my shoulder, and held me where I was. I didn't understand his meaning, and began to feel that his discovery was nothing out of the ordinary, and we'd get back to where we were.

"Put your hands down at your sides," he instructed me, "I want to take a look at these wrist seals." I did, and he appeared to fasten wide cuffs on each wrist. I was in the dark, until he pulled my hands behind me and clipped the cuffs together. This wasn't what I expected and I started to try and break free. "Slow down," Ray yelled, "I ain't finished, yet! Let's give you something else to think about." Suddenly I felt my air slow down and I was fighting to breathe, concentrating on sucking what I could through the mask.

Next thing, I found myself on the floor, on my side, with Ray snugging my ankles together, with the same type wide cuffs. He straightened up, and opened the regulator valve, and I could breathe again. "What the hell is going on, Ray?" I yelled, muffled in the heavy rubber mask, "Why are you screwing around, like this? What's going on?"

Ray sat back on the bench, visually checking my predicament. "Screwing around is a pretty good description. How's your hardon, now?" He reached down and squeezed my crotch. I couldn't do much more than try and pull away. "Last time I felt that, there was a man in my suit, looked like he knew what rubber was for, don't feel him anymore! What happened to the guy I watched out in the water, strokin' his meat? I creamed at twenty feet, watchin' you jerk off up at the surface. That ain't all sweat of mine in there with you, I left a good load of cum in that rubber today, too! Let's see what we can do about gettin' things goin' again."

My thoughts were racing with what he had said. Ray had seen and understood everything, out in the water. He spoke so casually about these things that I actually felt comfortable, and less anxious. I was still worried about being trussed up, the way I was, but not as worried. Ray seemed to take it all in stride, and I wondered what he had planned. He didn't leave me wondering long.

He pulled off his black racing trunks, exposing a medium erection on some pretty good equipment. He leaned close to my ear and said: "Let's make this a real party, for your first time out. Have you try a few new things, never know what turns a man on. I like to smell another man, maybe you do, too, Let's find out." Ray loosened the straps that were clamping the mask to my face, and pulled it back on my head. He suddenly pinched my nose, and as my mouth opened to gasp, crammed his trunks into my mouth! Gagging at first, I could smell and taste salt water, and smelled the musky scent of a man's crotch. I did get turned on! "Not so bad, is it?" Ray grinned, "Looks like we share a couple of things. Let's get back to the party." He snugged the mask back in place and I lay there, in a hazy dream, gagged with another man's trunks, tightly rubbered in his suit, sucking air in his mask, with a growing erection!

Going to a locker, he pulled out another rubber drysuit, and suited up, quickly. He smiled through the whole operation, his pleased grin visible until he pulled on another full face mask and strapped it up. Then, straddling me, he began stroking himself through his rubber crotch, and I watched, fascinated, and felt myself fully hardening, again! I wanted to be able to stroke myself, as he was, turned on by the thought of my cock in his last cum, instead of writhing and twisting, groaning, on that floor.

"Looks like you might need some attention, down there," Ray called, "Maybe I can do two things at once! After all, it's your cuming out party!" He kept me on my side, finally kneeling behind me. I could feel his crotch against my ass, feel his hardon, even through the rubber, and he was humping me, smoothly and easily. I swear I could feel the heat of his cock through the rubber of both our suits! He reached over me, and found my hardon, with his hand. Squeezing it, and massaging it, in rhythm with his own, I found myself stretching and twisting to extend and prolong the feeling, so familiar yet so new, in my rubber gear. "Bet you're glad you got rid of those boxer trunks, now. How's my trunks taste? Show you something else you never thought could happen," Ray called into my ear, "try this..."

Again, he closed down the valve to my air, almost off, and I began sucking and sucking, with that one thought: I got to breathe!!! No, not just that one thought, because while my head was busy with air, my cock was going wild! I got harder and harder, even while struggling to get air to my lungs, it was unbelieveable! I could feel Ray humping my rubber ass, harder and faster, and he was yelling: "You know you like it, you wouldn't have gotten in my suit, if you didn't! Come on and do it, fuck that rubber suit for me!" He kept hold of my cock, working it between the rubber and my belly. Regardless of the lack of air, I was working on two levels: one concentrating on breathing, almost orchestrated with the activity at my crotch. I jammed my rubber crotch into his hand, humping and moaning through Ray's speedos. Wild, hot, pleasure filled my mind, I could have enjoyed it, forever! Too soon and with a rush, unable to hold it back, I came and came, feeling the juice pour out of me, mixing with the sweat, filling my rubber crotch. Ray spasmed at the same time, and we both rocked back and forth, lost in the moment.

I realized that Ray had opened the air valve, again, and I was coming down off cloud nine. I was lying there, gagged with his soggy speedo, chest heaving with deep breaths, hogtied in that full rubber gear, sweat pouring out of my skin and both our cums filling my crotch, and I felt great! I hadn't wanted it to stop, I'd wanted that feeling to go on and on. I'd never built up so easily, with so much anticipation, so satisfyingly.

Ray stood straddling me, with his crotch over my face, pulled off his mask, still smiling, looked down, and said: "Want to try this suit on, next? That suit fits you pretty good I think, but this one is even tighter. Besides, rubber buddy, I think that one you're wearing leaks, have to check it out for myself now!"

Releasing the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, he helped me to me feet. Then, he released me from the tank harness and my mask. I pulled his speedos out of my mouth, and handed them to him. He didn't take them, though, and just said: "No, you may want to stick around, maybe you'll find a use for them. I called a couple of buddies when I went upstairs, you might want to meet them. They'll be here in about a half-hour, with their gear. Why not stay, until they come? You might learn something. Have anything better to do?"