Going All the Way (M/f, rainwear, no sex)

[mason]

GOING ALL THE WAY

Link with image on DeviantArt: https://www.deviantart.com/bound-aussie ... 1283023638

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Damien first noticed her because of the yellow. It was impossible to unsee the brilliant flash of yellow appearing amongst the gentle creamy hues of the white beach and the waving palm trees. He leant forwards, uncertain if his eyes were playing tricks or not. After all, it was a pretty bright morning. In fact, it had all the makings of a very hot day. The sun was already brutal despite the early hour of the morning, bleaching the sand and turning the sea into molten turquoise. Damien wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. His cotton T-shirt was already clinging uncomfortably against his skin. He sighed softly. It was far too early for a beer.

The yellow was closer now. No longer bored, Damien sat on the edge of his chair for a closer look.

When he saw the girl insouciantly strolling along the sandy beach beneath the shade of the coconut palms, Damien blinked with complete, slack-jawed disbelief. Although pretty girls were a dime a dozen on the resort island of Panglao in the Philippines, he'd never seen anyone like the sassy beauty approaching him.

Yet there she was, walking along the shoreline without a care in the world. The girl was wearing a gleaming buttercup yellow raincoat that caught the light like polished glass. What the… ?

As far as Damien could see, it wasn’t raining. He even glanced upwards for confirmation. Nor did it even look like it might rain.

Details began to emerge. She’d done up the hood in direct defiance of the heat. The shiny PVC perfectly framed her beautiful morena Filipina features. Every button was fastened all the way up to the neck. Not only that, she’d gone to the trouble of buckling the belt as tightly as possible. He loved how it emphasised her lovely slim waist. He blinked again. The girl had even put a pair of matching yellow rainpants on, which she’d carefully tucked inside her gleaming, polished rubber rainboots.

It was completely ridiculous. Yet … completely perfect.

She was only a few metres away now. Damien studied her with even greater curiosity, half-expecting her to look uncomfortable or self-conscious. He wasn’t the only one staring. Instead, the girl walked with an easy confidence, swinging her arms, smiling at nothing in particular, as if the heat didn’t exist.

**********************************************

He'd known for years, in that quiet way you never dare say out loud, how much rainwear affected him. Damien had no idea, only that it was so. Perhaps it was the way his mother dressed him in a shiny yellow slicker for school. He still remembered the very confusing feelings that the smooth vinyl generated deep within him. They made him feel bad. No one ever said anything, but… he knew that they weren’t right.

Plastic rainwear had fascinated him for as long as he could remember; the way the soft impossibly smooth plastic slid against his skin, the sensations it produced deep within him, the feeling of being enclosed and cosseted in layers of plastic or PVC. Most important of all, nothing did it more for him than the look of a pretty girl wearing a shiny raincoat.

It wasn’t about rain. It never had been. It was about comfort, order, and a strange, wordless joy that settled over him when a raincoat was properly buttoned and the hood positioned just so.

But his thing for rainwear was also private. Painfully so.

It was Damien’s most jealously guarded secret. He owned many beautiful raincoats. They sat, unseen by the outside world, in his closet. Their rainbow hues were strangely comforting: red, yellow, green, blue, even several glossy black numbers.

He tried them on at night, checking himself in the mirror, imagining what it would feel like to walk openly in them. Then he’d sigh, hang them back up, and tell himself some things were better left as fantasies.

No one ever understood things like that. Damien was terrified that people would laugh or call him weird if he wore any of his raincoats in public. Even if the weather was bad, he took an umbrella and suffered in private. No one knew that he’d visited the Philippines with a suitcase full of raincoats in the hope that his plastic phobia would disappear. It didn’t. If anything, it was worse.

It was why the appearance of the girl stopped him harder in his tracks than a spaceship landing in front of him and asking for directions. She was absolutely gorgeous. He simply could not tear his eyes away from this unbelievable creature.

When the girl finally noticed him rudely staring, much to his surprise, she didn’t look away or frown or any of the other negative responses he’d expected.

She simply laughed.

Her soft, mellifluous voice reminded him of the wind whispering through the willows back home, and it sent a chill down his spine.

“I know what you are thinking,” the apparition said. A ray of sunshine burst through the waving palms and illuminated her rainwear. The folds of her raincoat glittered like a lighthouse.

“I didn’t say anything,” he nervously replied.

“Your eyes say nothing and everything,” she calmly replied. “You think I’m crazy,” she said, her accent soft and musical. “Everyone thinks that.”

Somewhat surprised and embarrassed that she’d seen through him so easily, Damien awkwardly shrugged. “Er.. yeah. I mean… yeah. Maybe just little a bit.”

The girl’s smile was brighter than the sun basting her in plastic. “But it makes me happy.” That was it. No explanation, no defence. Just happiness, worn openly, buttoned right up to the neck.

Damien felt his heart catch. His chest was so tight that it actually hurt.

She’d come from a parallel universe, one where neither rules nor conventions mattered, and self-consciousness simply didn’t exist. He simply couldn’t get over the way this beautiful creature wore her gleaming rainwear as if it was an extension of her personality.

On a blazing hot day. The only evidence that the heat was bothering the girl was a thin sheen of sweat on her face. The sun was baking her alive, but she made no move to undo anything.

His heart was a bass drum. It was beating so loudly that he was sure she could hear it.

Her eyes met his with a relaxed unselfconsciousness that drew him inwards like a moth attracted to light. Nevertheless, he instinctively looked away, his lack of confidence – and embarrassment – throttling him as usual.

Instead of the subtle derision or awkwardness that he’d expected, there was laughter—warm, inviting, unafraid.

“You like rainwear too, don’t you?” she said softly, not teasing, not probing. Just stating a truth.

Damien froze. No one had ever said that to him before. “I—yes,” he admitted, his voice barely audible above the faint susurrance of the surf. “I just… I don’t usually—”

“Wear it outside?” she finished, smiling knowingly. “I didn’t either. At first.”

*******************************************************

They walked together after that, her pace unhurried, her presence calm. Maya – for that was her name - talked about growing up in the Philippines, about monsoon rains and the bright plastic coats she had to wear as a child. She spoke how wearing her raincoats made her feel grounded and joyful - even when the sky remained obstinately, stubbornly blue.

“It’s not about permission,” she said. “It’s not about what other people think. It’s about being honest with yourself.”

“Yes,” Damien said. Already he could feel his fear lifting. People were staring, clearly wondering what a handsome ‘foreigner’ was doing with a Filipina clad in shiny yellow from head to toe, but… Damien realised that he didn’t care.

Maya took his hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s also about being happy.”

******************************************************

Damien thought about that while they strolled back the way they’d come. Maya’s hand never left his while they talked.

The heat was rising in shimmering waves off the baking, desiccated sand, but it affected her not one whit. The only concession Maya made to the conditions was remaining in the shadow of the tall palms.

“I have to go now,” Maya said upon reaching his beachside room. Before he had a chance to speak, she said, “I will see you tomorrow morning. Same time.”

“Sure,” Damien breathed.

“Damien. Do you remember what I said?”

He nodded. “Yes. I remember.”

“About being true to yourself?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Tomorrow morning, we will wear our raincoats.” Maya’s voice was so soft that he had to strain his ears to hear it. “Shiny yellow. Like me.”

Damien mutely nodded.

“Just you and I. Together.” Maya smiled. Not for the first time, Damien felt as if he was looking on from the outside while Maya continued talking. “Be ready for me when I arrive. Rainwear neatly folded and ready to put on.”

“Yes, Maya…” Damien eventually said. He was transfixed. No one ever talked to him like this before. The calmness and self-assurance of Maya’s words hit him hard.

“Then… Damien, I will teach you how to be happy.”

**************************************************

“Good morning, Damien. How are you today?” Maya’s voice was light, conversational.

The incredible vision in gleaming yellow vinyl could not have been a greater contrast to the tropical beach scant metres away from Damien’s room. Maya was more spirit than woman, more wind than form. When she smiled, he could hear the island exhale.

“Are you ready?” she asked, her voice low, teasing, as if she already knew the answer.

“I’m ready.” Damien nodded. “I’m only wondering why I waited so long to meet you.”

Maya smiled again, wider this time, like she was letting me in on a secret. “This island brought you here for a reason.”

*************************************************

The dreamlike sense of wonderment was stronger than ever as Maya helped him dress for the rain. Golden motes of dust danced like dervishes in the golden rays of sunlight flooding the room as she helped him step inside his plastic briefs. The cool plastic rustled as he slid them up his legs.

Maya’s smile was a benediction as she hitched his plastic under-things just past his hips. They moulded itself to his tingling skin and she smiled warmly. “Plastic makes me feel alive,” Maya murmured as she helped him don his plastic playsuit. “It helps me breathe.”

When Maya picked up his gleaming butter-cup yellow vinyl rainpants, shook them open with a loud crackling noise and offered them to him, Damien felt his hands tremble as he put them on. It was such an emotion-charged moment that he dared not speak, lest it break the spell.

“Raincoat,” Maya simply said. She handed his glossy PVC raincoat to him as it was a votive offering. Damien was acutely aware of Maya’s presence as he fastened each button – real buttons – one by one.

She watched closely, then gently reached over and did up the last button at his neck. Her eyes never left his as she slowly pulled the attached hood upwards and positioned it just so.

Hands drawing the laces tight. Tying a secure double knot so it wouldn’t slip. “There’s only one way to wear a raincoat,” Maya said as she adjusted the hood, “and that’s all the way,” she said with a wide grin. “Always.”

Damien could not breathe while the girl in the glistening raincoat thoughtfully studied him. “Now we are ready for the rain. Are you?”

“Yes… I’m ready,” Damien slowly replied.

“Let’s go.” Maya took his hand and led him outside, into the sun. Their raincoats rustled and crackled loudly as they walked down the short steps.

***********************************************

Walking beside Maya, dressed for a typhoon that would never come, something inside him finally unclenched.

Being with someone who genuinely didn’t give a toss about what anybody else thought about their rainy-day apparel helped Damien see himself for the first time. Letting go of deeply repressed feelings that he’d never allowed himself to think about too much until now, was a huge weight off his shoulders. He finally realised that there was nothing wrong or shameful about his ‘thing for rainwear’. They’d only been waiting for daylight, for someone who refused to hide anything.

The old fear was still there – it might never vanish entirely - but it softened, warmed by the simple fact that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Two people in gleaming yellow, shining under the sun, choosing happiness over hiding and loneliness.

Stares and whispers followed their path, but for the first time, Damien didn’t feel strange.

They walked, hands squeezing each other’s, like that - two bright yellow raincoats competing for attention against the brilliant blue of the sea - laughing at the absurdity of it all, happy precisely because none of it made any sense to anyone else.

Except for Damien and Maya. It felt right to them.

The glossy plastic couple were exactly where they wanted to be. Happy. Secure. Validated.

[yellowgirl]

wow nice story hope to read more of this chapter of these two lovely people in yellow rainsuits

[pvcluver]

Mmm me too

[pvcbliss]

Great story. Pvc, so soft and smooth, it looks and even sounds sssssensual! Nylon is just too dull and scritchy!

That should get a few feathers flapping......!

[mason]

wow nice story hope to read more of this chapter of these two lovely people in yellow rainsuits

Thank you so much! I’m really glad you enjoyed it so much. I hadn't thought about doing a sequel, but I will certainly think about where their story could go next, so there may well be another chapter.

[mason]

Great story. Pvc, so soft and smooth, it looks and even sounds sssssensual! Nylon is just too dull and scritchy!

That should get a few feathers flapping......!

Glad you enjoyed the story Everyone has their preferences

[Raincoated]

Many years ago, my girlfriend at the time bet me £50, I would not walk the entire length of Oxford Street in London, in December, at the peak of shopping season, wearing her shiny bright blue mac, hood up, fully buttoned and belted! Not only did I do it, but I wore it for the rest of the afternoon/evening, even on the tube, back to Epping. It certainly cured my fears of wearing shiny macs! I vaguely remember the odd comment, a few sideways looks and double takes, mostly from men! At the end of it I felt elated. Even she, the gf, wasn't particularly fazed! She was also wearing a similar purple mac as well! It was actually good fun! We donated the £50 to Battersea dogs home!

[mason]

Many years ago, my girlfriend at the time bet me £50, I would not walk the entire length of Oxford Street in London, in December, at the peak of shopping season, wearing her shiny bright blue mac, hood up, fully buttoned and belted! Not only did I do it, but I wore it for the rest of the afternoon/evening, even on the tube, back to Epping. It certainly cured my fears of wearing shiny macs! I vaguely remember the odd comment, a few sideways looks and double takes, mostly from men! At the end of it I felt elated. Even she, the gf, wasn't particularly fazed! She was also wearing a similar purple mac as well! It was actually good fun! We donated the £50 to Battersea dogs home!

That’s such a great story. It actually mirrors the heart of what I was trying to say in my story. Once you realise that most people don’t really care, the fear loses its power. And the elation afterward is real.

Thanks for sharing this

[Blackvinyl]

Great story. Pvc, so soft and smooth, it looks and even sounds sssssensual! Nylon is just too dull and scritchy!

That should get a few feathers flapping......!

110% agree with you, I love both the finer and thicker vinyls, especially double sided, some nylon based materials are very nice, the shiny puffers being one, but the new vinyls now on offer, especially from asia, are so so shiny, soft and just down right fantastic. Cant get enough. Ill need a new wardrobe!

AND..... love the story! We could do with a few more proper raincoat tales. Been a bit thin on the ground recently.