(mh=1_0BbVTfxmCyF3OA)3.jpg)
The rubber man emerges from the shadows, his every inch encased in sleek, black latex, a stark contrast against the sterile, white room. He moves with an otherworldly grace, the rustling of his suit the only sound in the silence. His gloved hands explore his body, tracing the contours, feeling the smoothness, before moving to his crotch. He grinds against his hand, the friction through the rubber sending jolts of pleasure. He continues to tease himself, his breath fogging up the visor, lost in his private, fetishistic world.