Going For A Swim

Freshly waxed legs, butt and torso, neatly trimmed nails, new toe-socks, favourite shoulder-zip catsuit. He slid his hands down the soft, sleek black that enclosed his body from neck to toes, enjoying the slight augmentations and reductions afforded by it in the mirror. “Not bad at all, really.” He smiled to himself, looking out the door of the bathroom into the rest of the empty cottage.

The sun would be setting soon but the lake was virtually deserted. Mid-week, mid-August. Days were warm enough to make being in rubber difficult, but the nights were perfect. The lake, though; that would be the real treat.

He pulled on his gloves next, short, only coming up just above his wrist. They would be enough to ensure no skin would be exposed, though. The hood came next, more tight latex with a long neck glued to a wide-visored gasmask. Easy to see out of, difficult to remove. “Just perfect…” he thought, making it a little harder by carefully slipping the neck of the hood down under the catsuit’s high collar.

Sweat was already pooling in his toe-socks, mixing with the hint of silicone oil he’d used to help get them on, but he took the time to admire himself some more in the long mirror.

Stroking over his tight stomach, sturdy chest, long arms and legs, and slim, tall head he felt as if it were the first time all over again. He’d been shaving for a while now but this was his first time wearing latex since he’d gotten waxed and it was honestly magnificent. It hugged every part of his body, enclosing him, smoothing out his features. It flowed over his skin and felt like a part of it, dulling and heightening his sense of touch.

How much nicer would it be in the water?

He slipped on his diving shoes, thick neoprene that would keep his toe-socks from getting damaged either by the path down to the water or anything that might be in the sand at the bottom of the lake and headed down. He took the moment to screw a filter into the port of the gasmask, helpful for filtering out mosquitoes, and slipped out the door.

The cool of the evening slowly penetrated the skintight latex until it balanced out with his body heat. It was comfortable, honestly. People always asked him if it was hot but after a few minutes it always felt… even.

He picked up a small bag of other items and headed town to the lake.

He took his time, walking down the path to the far dock, enjoying the way the light filtered through the trees and the pink sunlight starting to fill the sky as it moved from blue through yellow. The feeling of the pine needles, twigs, leaves, and dirt underfoot was doubly muted, first by the coated neoprene of the dive boots and then by the thickish latex of the toe-socks. Every step was like learning the forest floor again without the nagging sensation of each individual twig and leaf; he could feel the curve of the ground for what it was. The hump of each tree root as it crossed below the level of the path.

That competed with the new way his suit moved around him, gliding over his body on a thin coat of silicone oil. He could feel his whole body against the soft resistance of the material as he descended the flagstone steps set into the bank, carefully pushing tree branches out of the way until he was on the dock.

A few quick, and slightly awkward moments, and he was in. He could still feel the thermocline, that warm layer at the top heated by the day’s clear and calm sky above the cool of the lake a few inches lower but it didn’t matter much as he laid himself out on his back He took a deep breath and simply floated, watching the world through the clear face plate of his mask. Watching the mosquitoes as they swarmed towards him and the blue and black streams of dragonflies darting in to follow, all lit by the setting sun. Watching the light skip over the water and the sun slowly dip toward the trees.

The water slowly seeped through the zippers but that didn’t matter much, it just added to the sensation. Every stroke of his arms or kick of his legs felt like swimming through silk. The water that did intrude didn’t even seem cold, warming quickly against his body as he paddled along. He couldn’t swim quickly, keeping the filter out of the water was a bit of a challenge, but it wasn’t important.

He stood back up, letting his feet sink into the soft silt at the bottom of the lake. It was an odd feeling as the water sank to his calves. There wasn’t a lot but it was definitely there and didn’t, on reflection, feel bad either.

He waded back to the dock, opening up the bag. A heavy piece of rubber to go over the very end of the dock, a tinted visor to cut down on the glare, and a canteen with a small amount of neat single malt Scotch.

Maybe someday he’d get to share this with someone.

Not worrying about bugs also did make the evening swim nicer.