Second Skin
Seulgi x male reader.
Tags: submissive Seulgi, latex, cunnilingus, creampie.
Word count: 4.8k
A/N: Probably received the most asks and follow-ups about a fic of Seulgi in latex, and after a decent amount of research on how latex may feel, here it is. Added more photos than usual, because Seulgi looks like a dream in latex.
My phone buzzes, making me pick it up without much thought in the middle of the meeting that has been dragging for God knows how long. As I check the notification bar from my locked screen, I see it is from Seulgi, my fiancée. Remembering that she is currently at the Lotte Department Store to browse wedding dresses, I open the chat immediately, mistakenly assuming she probably sent a few photos of mannequins in wedding dresses for me to give opinions on. Instead, what I see is Seulgi clad in a black latex dress, her tiny cleavage peeking, her cute expression contrasting deliciously with her full latex ensemble, including black thigh high boots. No text accompanying the photo, she knows the photo is enough.
“Fuck”
That’s all I can think of, seeing Seulgi in latex. After a minute, I sent another text.
“Baby, that does not look like a wedding dress. But if you want to wear that, I can try convincing my parents.”
I wait, a delicious mix of anticipation and love and lust clouding my brain and my heart, making me appear restless in front of my colleagues as I check my phone again and again, as my boss, Kim Wan-Sun, glowers at me and drones on about something she thinks is important.
Another buzz. I unlock my phone immediately, the chat with Seulgi already open.
“Of course it’s not the wedding dress, silly. It just caught my eye.”
A second text comes from Seulgi immediately.
“Baby, you like me in latex that much?”
I can feel my face blushing and ears getting red over the insinuation of where this conversation may lead, making my body feel warm all over in the middle of the heavily airconditioned room.
“Yes. Buy it, please. Get the entire fit, including the gloves and definitely the boots. Use my credit card.”
I get a notification five minutes later on my banking app, letting me know that the entire outfit has cost me an arm and a leg.
Another photo from Seulgi, showing the full outfit in all its glory, accompanied by a text.
“Got a pair of stockings as well, baby. Thought you’d enjoy tearing into it.”
“Fuck, I am in the middle of a meeting but I can’t focus on anything else, Seulgi. Can’t wait to see you.”
I look at the time, realizing there is at least three more hours before I can get off work without raising any eyebrows, and considering the Seoul traffic, it will take me another hour to get home.
“Just so you know, I am wearing the entire outfit under my overcoat. The latex feels nice on my skin.”
My professionalism, my composure, my ability to stay calm and collected; all shatter with that one text. My desperation to feel Seulgi takes over completely, as I hurriedly send one last text as the meeting nears its end.
“Come to my office, then. I just can’t wait four more hours to see you, Seulgi. Need you ASAP.”
“On my way, baby. Latex is kinda annoying to take off anyway, I’d rather you did that instead of me.”
I smile, the biggest I have ever smiled in front of my colleagues, especially in the middle of a meeting as boring as this one. My boss sighs dejectedly one last time as she sees me glued to my phone, and concludes the meeting. Ignoring everyone, I rush to my tiny room at the almost ignored corner of the office floor, my recent promotion moving me up in the corporate world from an open cubicle in the middle of the floor to a partitioned workspace beside the storage room. I was not the most thrilled getting this space as a reward for my hard work, but man, am I glad that I got this secluded space.
After 30 minutes of me looking at my laptop restlessly, there is a knock on the door. Before I can get up to open it, Seulgi opens the door and enters, her face beaming with the shy, bear-like warm smile that I fell for a decade ago. Her brown overcoat hides the black latex outfit quite well, but as she walks towards me, I see some glimpses of what is underneath through the opening, throwing gasoline over the fire of my excitement.
I hug Seulgi tight as she kisses my cheek, making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside just at the touch of her lips. She pulls back, sees my dumb expression, and smiles again, my hands still on her waist. “I met Wan-Sun unnie on my way here. She already complained about you to me, you know?” She nuzzles my hair, a mix of playful scolding and adoration. “Unnie says you were distracted during the meeting, and I said I am to blame.” Seulgi laughs again, looking at my face. “You’re dumb, you know that, baby? Getting worked up over just a photo.”
“Yes, I know. I think my IQ falls by 20 points whenever you are near me. I am practically in the negative IQ zone right now, Seulgi.” I squeeze her waist tighter, not able to resist myself from feeling her skin against me.
“Oh, you are restless.” Seulgi lightly slaps my forearm with her gloved hand, which only makes me grab her latex clad body tighter, my face now nestled in the crook of her neck, inhaling her natural scent, mixed with a subtle smell of rubber from the latex itself under her overcoat. I can feel my arousal rising in the middle of my tiny office, the almost distant hum of people working on the office floor feeling like a detail I should not bother myself with, especially when I have a goddess between my arms.
Fortunately, Seulgi’s IQ has not dropped like mine has. She whispers, “Lock the door” to my ears as I already start to kiss her neck softly, pushing me away with a bit of force this time to at least make me come to my senses enough to give ourselves one added layer of privacy. I open the door a bit, looking outside for a moment to make sure no one is near my room, and lock the door.
Just as I turn around, Seulgi presents herself to me with the perfect visage - the black latex dress hugging her upper body tightly, accentuating all of her curves. The black latex dress hugs her torso so tightly it looks painted on, and every tiny breath makes the latex stretch and gleam under the fluorescent lights, making the outline of her erect nipples already visible under the latex. The latex boots end just above her knees, where the black sheer stockings begin. The skirt is ridiculous, short and flared like a tutu, and it barely covers the tops of her thighs. When she shifts her weight the hem lifts just enough to flash a glimpse of sheer black stockings and the simple black panties underneath. The brown overcoat is disregarded on the floor, having served its purpose of covering Seulgi wearing latex from anyone else’s eyes.
I stare. I stare at Seulgi like she is the epitome of every late-night fantasy I have ever had, because she is. Seulgi has shifted from her everyday, clumsy posture to her graceful, dancer’s one, which makes everything much, much better. Back slightly arched, chest pushed forward, hips tilted just so. The latex turns every curve into something sharper, more deliberate. She knows exactly what she looks like right now, she has known from the moment she tried out the dress and sent me the photo. I can see the confidence in the way her eyes flick down to the obvious bulge in my trousers, then back up to my face.
Seulgi’s pride at making me lose my wits conflicts with the sudden shyness across her expression. The same shy, bear-like smile she has given me for a decade is there, mixed with pride, but at the same time, the reality of her dressed sexily in latex in the middle of my office during a workday makes her blush with embarrassment.
“You’re staring again,” Seulgi says in a voice low and a little breathless, but threaded with the same teasing confidence she used in those photos. The latex gloves creak softly as she rests one hand on her hip and lets the other trail down the flared hem of the dress, deliberately drawing my eyes lower. A faint flush rises on her cheeks, her shyness almost winning over, yet she doesn’t look away. “I knew this would get to you the second I put it on. That’s why I sent the pictures. But watching you look at me like this in person…”
The dress leaves nothing much to the imagination, and Seulgi’s arousal at the entire situation is obvious. Her nipples are outlined in perfect, insistent detail against the tight black latex, almost begging to be felt, and the faint sheen of wetness is already visible over her black panties. She doesn’t try to hide any of it. If anything, she stands a little taller, chin tilted, letting me take in every inch of what she chose for me, relishing how feral she can make me.
I stopped thinking the moment Seulgi walked in my office, and now I let my instincts guide my actions fully. My hands find her waist again, latex squeaking under my palms as I grab her waist harder than I had earlier, and I almost carry her by her waist to sit her on my office chair. Seulgi squeals a bit, both in delight and surprise. Her boots click against the floor, as she sits, thighs spread at my sudden movement. The flared skirt flips up as she sits and I drop to my knees between her spread thighs before she can close them, as if I am kneeling in front of everything that will ever matter.
My hands go straight to Seulgi’s thighs, and the contrast is enough to drive me insane. Smooth, warm latex over the top of her boots, then the softer give of the black sheer stockings, then the living heat of her actual skin just above the stocking tops, the heat between her thighs dampened by her black panties. I rub slowly, up and down, feeling how the material resists and then yields. Underneath the latex dress her body is already warmer than usual. I can feel the faint dampness of sweat starting to collect against the inside of her second skin.
“God, you feel…fuck” I do not even finish the sentence, I am not in the headspace to think anymore, this novel sensation overriding my senses. Instead, I just keep touching. My palms sliding over the tight bodice, over her toned abs, my thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts where the latex is stretched thinnest. The material is slick and cool on the outside, but the second I press harder I feel the living heat of her skin underneath. Her nipples drag against the inside of the dress every time she breathes, the light friction turning Seulgi on even more.
Outside the door the ordinary office sounds continue; keyboards clacking, a phone ringing two rooms over, the distant murmur of someone complaining about the coffee machine. It only sharpens the moment, makes me want to focus on Seulgi more. In contrast, as the possibility of us getting caught with my face between her thighs become more and more real with every passing moment, Seulgi starts feeling more shy, more aroused.
Seulgi makes a small, embarrassed sound and tries to close her legs. I gently push them wider again. “Don’t hide, baby.” I say. “You wanted me to see you like this. Let me.”
She bites her lip, latex-gloved hands resting on the arms of the chair, not yet gripping. The gloves make little soft creaks every time her fingers flex. I lean in and press my face against the short flared skirt, breathing her in. Rubber and skin and the faint clean scent of the lotion she always uses, all mixed up in the smell of her wetness. My hands slide higher, under the hem, until my fingers find the waistband of those plain black panties. I hook them and start pulling them down. Seulgi lifts her hips for me without being asked, the latex dress squeaking as it shifts. The panties come off easily. I toss them on the floor, as I inhale the stronger scent of her arousal directly.
The stockings are next. I do not bother being careful, as the stockings were meant to be torn. I grip the sheer fabric at her thighs and tear. The sound is sharp, loud in the quiet room. Seulgi gasps, softly moaning my name once as she grips onto the arms of my office chair. Another tear, then another, until both stockings hang in tatters around the tops of her boots. Her bare, toned thighs are revealed in all their glory under the harsh fluorescent light. The skin of her thighs feel soft, warm, slightly damp with a light sheen of sweat already. I run my palms up the insides of them, feeling the difference between the cool, resistant latex of the boots and the warmth of her inner thighs.
I look up at Seulgi as I keep kneeling. She is watching me with wide eyes, lips parted, her shyness contrasting the blush in her face at having me between her legs, the control she can exert over me through submitting to being pleasured.
“You’re wet, Seulgi, really wet.” I lean in and drag the flat of my tongue slowly up the length of her slit, tasting her properly for the first time today. She is already so wet the first lick comes away glistening. She tastes wet, familiar, slightly sharper from how turned on she is, a taste I can never get enough of. Seulgi’s hips jerk at the sensation of my tongue. A soft, high sound escapes her before she clasps a gloved hand over her own mouth.
I do it again, slower, relishing the taste of her wetness better now. Soft, broad strokes from the bottom of her entrance all the way up to her clit, then back down. I take my time, loving exactly how Seulgi feels against my tongue while she is wearing the latex. Every time she shifts, the dress makes that quiet, wet-sounding creak against the leather of my office chair. As I lick her pussy, my hands travel up over the tight bodice, feeling the heat and the sweat starting to make the inside of the dress slick against her skin. I interlace my fingers with hers, her latex glove against my bare skin, and hold on while I eat her out.
When I finally seal my lips around her clit and suck softly, Seulgi’s frees one of her hands from mine to grab onto my hair. The latex glove squeaks against my scalp. I keep the suction gentle at first, just enough pressure, then flick the tip of my tongue across the swollen little bud. She tastes even better the longer I stay between her thighs. I start alternating; wide, flat strokes that cover everything and lets me taste her more, then point my tongue and push inside her, fucking her with it in short, shallow thrusts while my nose stays pressed to her clit. The wet sounds are filthy in the quiet room.
Outside, someone walks past the door; their footsteps slow for a second as if they might knock, then continue on. Seulgi’s eyes fly open, releasing my scalp so that she can bite down harder on her own gloved finger, trying not to make a sound. I do not stop. I lick deeper, suck harder, use the flat of my tongue to gather every drop of her and then push back inside. As I push my tongue inside her, I can feel how her pussy is trying to squeeze against it, wanting to keep my tongue inside her longer, pulling it deeper. Her thighs start to tremble against my shoulders. The latex dress is growing warmer under my palms, as I feel the sweat collecting now, little slippery patches where the material no longer clings perfectly.
When Seulgi comes, it is with a muffled, broken moan against her own hand, thighs clamping around my head, the latex dress creaking loudly as her whole body tenses. I keep licking her through it, slower now, drinking everything she gives me until her legs finally loosen. The skin of her thighs is flushed and damp under my hands. The contrast between the slick, resistant latex and the soft, heated flesh underneath is almost too much.
I pull back just enough to look at her. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy, the shy smile completely gone and replaced by something raw and hungry. Her hair is a little messy now, soft strands sticking to her sweaty temple. “Turn around, baby.” I say.
Seulgi stands on slightly shaky legs. I spin her so she faces my office desk, then bend her forward over it, her arms balancing over the desk as she arches her back, presenting her ass towards me. The short dress flips up completely. Her bare ass and the glistening mess between her thighs are on full display, a sight I have seen over a thousand times, but never on my desk, never with her wearing latex. I shove my pants and boxers down just far enough, line my hard cock up, and push into her in one slow, deep thrust.
The sound she makes is half gasp, half whimper. I have to grab her hips hard, as my hands keep sliding on the slick latex, so I dig my fingers in until I have a proper grip. The material squeaks under my palms with every thrust. Outside I can still hear the low hum of the office floor. Someone laughs near the printers. It only makes me drive deeper.
“Fuck, Seulgi, baby..” I start moving properly, hips snapping forward, the wet sound of me sliding in and out mixing with the constant soft creak of the dress. Her boots stay planted on the floor. Every time I bottom out, the flared skirt bounces against her lower back. I reach around and squeeze her tits through the latex, feeling the hard nipples drag against my palms. The material is so tight it is almost like touching bare skin, only shinier, warmer, slipperier from the sweat underneath. I can feel the heat of her body trapped inside the dress, the way the latex has become a second, slicker skin. Seulgi’s pussy, somehow tighter and slicker, pulses softly around my cock as I drive into her again and again and again.
“You like this,” I lean forward and say against her ear, voice low. “You like knowing you can walk into my office in the middle of the day and drive me crazy with one outfit.”
Seulgi nods hard, forehead pressed to the desk now. “I do, baby” she whispers. The latex gloves creak as she grips the edge of the desk. “I love how you look at me. I love that I can still make you this stupid after all these years.” She pushes back to meet the next thrust, latex squeaking. “I’m going to keep doing this. Even after we’re married. Even when we’re old. I’m going to put on something like this and watch you lose your mind.”
The promise goes straight through me. I grab Seulgi’s arms, pull them behind her back, and use them as leverage to fuck her harder. The desk creaks under the duress. Seulgi bites down on her lips to muffle her moans, but I can hear her soft moans as I drive into her harder, her pussy squeezing my cock like her promise, never wanting to let me go. Outside I hear two colleagues talking about weekend plans as they walk past. Their voices fade, but for a second I am sure one of them slows. Seulgi freezes for a heartbeat, then pushes back onto me again, daring the risk.
The combination of the tight heat of her raw pussy, the constant slick noise and sensation of the latex, and the way she keeps pushing back onto me is too much. I bury myself as deep as I can one last time, pull out and immediately come hard across the small of her back, painting the shiny black material in thick stripes. Some of it slides down the curve of her waist. The rest stays, white against the glossy black, some getting stuck on the golden zipper at the back of her dress. The latex creaks softly as Seulgi breathes through it.
For a few seconds neither of us moves, too stunned, too ecstatic, too in love. The only sounds are our breathing and the distant office noise. A phone vibrates somewhere down the hall. Footsteps pass again, closer this time, then move on. Then I grab onto the zipper at the back of Seulgi’s dress as she lies down on top of my desk, and start to pull it down.
It comes off slowly. The material clings stubbornly to her sweaty skin, making soft wet sounds as it releases. Once the zipper is pulled down completely, I pull Seulgi up and turn her around to face me. First the top peels away from her breasts, leaving faint red marks where the dress and my hands have compressed her, then down over her ribs, her waist, her hips. When it finally clears her body I drop the dress onto the chair. The smell that rises off her is pure Seulgi mixed with warm rubber and sex. It is the best thing I have ever smelled in my life.
Seulgi lies on top of my desk in nothing but the thigh-high boots and the torn remnants of the stockings. Her skin is flushed deep pink under her breasts and the line around her waist, wherever the dress had been the tightest. Sweat makes her glow under the office lights. Soft, warm, marked, utterly mine. Her hair is more tangled now, soft strands sticking to her neck and temples. I reach up and brush it back, feeling how different it is from the slick latex I have been touching for the last twenty minutes.
I bend myself over Seulgi and start licking. I start at her collarbone, first tugging on the black choker she has on her throat with my teeth, then dragging my tongue through the thin sheen of sweat, then down between her breasts. I lick every red mark my hands have left. The skin is soft, slightly salty, alive in a way the latex never could be. When I reach her shaved armpit I do not hesitate, I press my face into the soft hollow and lick, slow and thorough, tasting salt and heat and her. Seulgi squirms, a startled little laugh turning into a moan. “That tickles—ah—baby, that’s so…”
I do the other side just as carefully, then work my way down her stomach, licking and dragging my tongue over the faint red bands the waist of the dress has left, lower, until I am licking the insides of her thighs clean of the mess we have already made. Her hands stay in my hair the whole time, latex gloves still on, the material squeaking softly every time her fingers tighten.
By the time I climb back up her body, Seulgi is shaking again. I kiss her properly, just the way she loves; deep, messy, open-mouthed, while I guide myself back between her legs. This time I push my cock in slowly, watching her ethereally beautiful face the entire way. Her eyes flutter as I enter her warm, inviting pussy. Her mouth opens on a silent moan against mine as if it is inviting my tongue in, and I oblige by pushing my tongue between her soft, kissable lips. Her soft skin against mine at last, no latex between us except the boots still wrapped around my hips.
I start thrusting in long, deep strokes, keeping most of my weight on my forearms so I can keep kissing Seulgi. Her boot-clad legs wrap around my waist, the smooth latex of the boots sliding against my lower back. Her gloved hands grab onto my forearms. Every time I bottom out she makes a tiny, broken sound into my mouth. The desk shifts an inch with the force of it. I keep fucking her in steady, grinding thrusts, kissing her through every one, tasting the sweat on her upper lip, feeling the way her body opens for me now that there is nothing between us but skin.
“I love you,” she whispers against my mouth, the words almost lost under the wet sounds of us. “Even when you look at me like you’re going to eat me alive.” She smirks against my lips. “Especially then.”
I kiss Seulgi harder, angling my hips so every stroke drags across the spot that makes her thighs tighten around me. I don’t stop. Even as the pressure builds at the base of my spine I keep fucking her in slow, deep, and deliberate thrusts that grind against that same place over and over. Her pussy is so wet, the wet sounds are filthy in the quiet office, but the real torture is the way it keeps grabbing my cock. Every time I bottom out she clenches hard, a tight, rhythmic squeeze that ripples from the base of my cock all the way to the tip, like she’s trying to pull me deeper inside her, deeper than I physically can be. The heat of her is almost unbearable after the slick cool of the latex; soft, living walls that flutter and spasm around me every time I drag back and push in again.
Seulgi’s breath breaks against my mouth. Her gloved fingers dig into my forearms hard enough to leave marks. She comes on my cock with a muffled, broken sound she tries to swallow against my tongue as her whole body locks, pussy clamping down in strong, pulsing waves that milk me in time with her orgasm. The squeezes are so tight and rhythmic I can barely move, but I force myself to keep thrusting through it, short, grinding strokes that drag across her still-spasming walls. Each one wrings another helpless flutter out of her, another soft, high noise she can’t quite hold back, even as my lips press against hers.
I don’t last much longer after that. The feeling of Seulgi coming around me pushes me over. I bury myself as deep as I can and cum inside her with a low groan she swallows with her lips, pulsing hard inside her while her legs stay locked around my waist in the latex boots and her gloved fingers squeeze my forearms hard enough to hurt. Soft skin, soft hair, the lingering scent of latex and sweat and her, everything I have been craving since the first photo hit my phone, while her pussy keeps giving those last, weak little squeezes around my cock, like it isn’t quite ready to let go either as it squeezed every last drop of my cum inside her.
We stay like that for a long time, our foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, the latex boots still wrapped around me, my cock still inside her pussy - wet and mixed with our cum, the discarded dress gleaming on the chair beside us, and the ordinary sounds of the office continuing just beyond the locked door like nothing in the world has changed. Seulgi eventually gives a small, breathless laugh and nuzzles my nose with hers.
“We’re going to have to be very careful walking out of here,” she murmurs. “I’m still wearing the boots. And I’m pretty sure half the floor just heard the desk moving.” I kiss the tip of her nose, then her lips again, slower this time. “Worth it.”
Her smile turns soft and wicked at the same time. Outside, footsteps approach again, then pass without stopping. Seulgi’s eyes sparkle with the same mix of nerves and heat that started this whole thing, as the latex dress lies crumpled and shiny on the chair, still warm from her body, still smelling of rubber and sex and the woman I am going to marry.