© Copyright 2011 - Jo - Used by permission
Storycodes: MM/ff; spandex; tights; leotard; hood; sleepsack; trunk; packaged; transported; toys; cons; X
Nadine comes - again - making small, muffled, gasping sounds. My own vibe isn't buzzing ... for now.
We're wedged into the tool box behind the cab in Phil's truck, belly to belly, breast to breast. I'm not gay, but Nadine's breasts feel nice against my own, all warm and soft.
I have no idea how long we've been travelling or where we're going. The truck sways and rocks. I doze.
This is it ... whatever 'it' is.
When I'd asked him to share his wine he'd said, "No." No in a tone of voice that told me something was up. It was the same voice.
I come out of the bathroom a few minutes later. Al has my things laid out on the bed. Whatever 'it' is, it involves spandex - and my remote-control vibrator. I strip.
Al watches as I smear a bit of lube on my pussy lips and push the vibrator inside. I pull on the black, spandex panties, tug at them until they're nice and snug. I slide my feet into the spandex tights, pull them up to my crotch, grab the 'leotard'.
Nadine made it for me. It's just like hers. It looks like a turtleneck leotard, except there are elastic holes for my breasts and the sleeves are sewn shut with D-rings at the ends.
I undo the crotch snap and pull it over my head. I can get it mostly on, but Al helps at the end. Tugging my breasts through the holes, the elastic makes them bulge a bit. He snaps the crotch and pulls up the tights, adding to the pressure on my pubes.
The foam ball is as big as a grapefruit, but he manages to stuff it all in my mouth. I press my lips together and he seals them with strips of tape. The hood matches the rest - black spandex. It's very snug, has no holes, but I can breathe through it well enough.
He wraps my arms across my waist and secures the D-rings behind my back with a bit of rope.
Al leads me downstairs into the garage. There's the sound of the garage door trundling open. I can feel a cool breeze on my breasts. My nipples go hard.
The way the house is situated no one can see. Doesn't make me any less uncomfortable standing there, encased in all black, with just my boobs hanging out.
Time passes. I'm starting to feel a bit fidgety when I hear the sound of a well-muffled diesel drawing near.
So 'it' is a road trip with Phil and Nadine. The last trip saw Nadine and I dressed as I am now, minus the hood, buckled into the back seats. The rear windows have dark tint and the front seats are kind of high, so no one could see in. Still made me feel a bit antsy.
The guys say hello, there's the sound of the tailgate dropping, I'm hefted, set down, hefted again. They work together to get me into the box. Phil's lined it with thick foam and Nadine is already in there. My legs are folded and I'm wedged in. They lay a thick piece of foam over us and close the lid. It's a tight fit, but presently Nadine and I are snug as bugs is a, well, foam-lined box.
Nadine mmfs, I mmf back. It's about as close to "Hey! How ya doin'? Good to see you." as we're going to get. Of course, I can't see her, nor she me. At least I think she can't. Whenever the guys do these things, Nadine and I are always 'dressed' the same. She makes all of our outfits and other spandex gear.
We just bump out of the driveway when my vibrator buzzes to life. The control is in the box with us. It started life as an RC transmitter. Al added a computer timer. The receivers are embedded in the vibrators inside of us. On continually, the batteries are good for about four hours. I know that as an uncomfortable fact. Unlike Nadine, I don't come with the vibe in me. I can and I do, but I have to work at it. Otherwise it gets me about two thirds of the way there and keeps me there. On the other hand, I'm not sure I'd want to come for four hours. But today they're on the timer. I don't know how long, but I'd guess about a half hour on, a half hour off.
Nadine's asleep. I can hear a soft, muffled snore.
The last trip we took was to do a bit of leaf peeping a month ago, Nadine and I belted in the back of Phil's truck. We had ball gags that day and sometime along the way the guys stopped and fed us. Didn't give us much to drink. Clothed as we were, peeing was not an option.
The first trip we took saw neither vibrators, nor gags. Nadine had made us matching, well, I don't know what to call them - kind of a vaguely human-shaped sack. It has tubes inside for my arms and a hood and a zip up the back. It's tight. Really tight. I jam my feet in the bottom, slide my hands into the tubes, Al yanks it up, I duck my head and he slips the hood over me, does a bit of tugging (quite a bit - did I mention it was tight?), and zips me in.
I love the feeling of spandex. All my panties are spandex, well, almost all, the ones I wear every day anyway. I love the way they grip my butt and sex, all nice and snug.
That day Nadine and I were doubly encased. We took our car. They had laid a double sack on the garage floor and put us, belly to belly, in it. There was more tugging, more zipping. Al had dropped the back seat and they slid us into the car, our heads somewhere in the cabin, our feet somewhere near the trunk lid. Duffle bags were piled around and on top of us from our butts to our feet.
Nadine and I yacked. Except for the fact that we were doubly encased in spandex, it could be any road trip. Part of the chatter was nerves. We were new to this whole wives-in-bondage thing. We knew they did it and they knew we did it and it was part of our girl talk, but then they started tying us up together. And then clothes started coming off. Being naked with Nadine was never a big deal; we were roommates in college. But being naked in a sexual situation ... welll. At least the guys didn't fuck us. The closest we ever got to sex was a bit of teasing with a vibrator. And the whole spandex thing was my idea, well our idea. I love the material; Nadine is into encasement.
We're definitely encased now. My vibe just woke up. Let's see if I can squeak out an orgasm or two. I need something to amuse me. It looks like it's going to be a long trip.