My arms and hands could only move sideways in that sort of “sack” garment, and naturally focused on provoking a sexual arousal which, in conjunction with the restrained breathing, gradually bolstered my urges for self-gratification. I could not stop it; I could not even think otherwise; I was like dragged into that sluice of desires until I lost all controls. Even there, it had to go further. The damp and soon wet latex was sticking to my skin, and the hugging feeling grew in intensity. If anything could move, it was my entire body, and the more I moved, the more I had to inhale and exhale. The hood was wet, sticking to my face. I was shut in, and powerless to release myself from that rubber prison.
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