Walking out your front door you look over at the other homes. This early in the morning there are bound to be a few who are awake, but most are going to be sleeping off their parties from last night just as your own roommate was planning to do.
On cue you hear a crash from his bedroom. He must be trying to pull his face off still, serves him right for being such a skunk in the first place. He'll get used to it, you shrug and walk to the neighboring house.
It too is filled with young college boys in each of it's 3 bedrooms. It's an old Victorian just like yours, which means there should be a back door. You walk around the side, your latex uniform feels tighter under your clothes than it did before, as if it is clenching in anticipation of making more friends. You grin feeling yourself become aroused again at the thought of turning more people in to latex like you are. They will thank you for it, you think, and you don't even notice that the thought isn't actually yours.
You place your hand on the doorknob and are about to open it to sneak in when you hear voices, and the sound of a chair being pushed across the wood floor. They are awake? Hmm... they always were prudes in this house, you recall them being the math club types. Nerds. You change your tactic quickly and knock loudly on the door, clearing your throat.
It opens to reveal a young man with sandy blonde hair, he is topless but has on jogging shorts. His scrawny frame reveals that this is a lie, and he doesn't jog at all, but probably enjoys the lazy fashion they afford.
"Hey. What's up?" he says looking at you. You have seen him before, he has seen you too, that is about as far as your relationship ever went.
"I was wondering if I could come in and get some water or something? I know, weird request but ours is off next door while they work on the pipes." you say, taking a casual step closer to him.
"Uh sure man. Come in. We are just starting up breakfast. Steven makes a good batch of pancakes on the weekends. You are welcome to join if ya like. We still have some." He gestures at the table, three other young men sit around it, equally disheveled looking from their sleep and in various states of undress.
"Great! Thanks!" you say, noticing that you are not in the least bit hungry. Odd, it must be your new latex skin, it seems to be changing you inside too. Makes sense, your roommate must be well on his way to being a solid rubber skunk by now too.
You seat yourself, and reach over to the large pitcher of orange juice, clearly from the frozen concentrate, with a wooden spoon still sticking out of it from being stirred. You glance at the glasses of the boys, and see them empty. Perfect!
Reaching over you grab the pitcher, your skin responds and a large glob of latex smoothly glides down your wrist in to the pitcher of OJ and clouds it dark purple for a moment. The color then lightens, red, then orange. The perfect disguise for the hungry latex, it swirls around thickly as you pour each boy a glass. They are eating hungrily and mumble their thanks.
One takes a long gulp, then goes back to eating, he makes a sour face and seems as if he is about to comment that it tastes funny and then changes his mind to instead focus on eating his syrupy pancakes.
One by one the others drink too, with the last one taking a small sip just as the first one drops his fork and lets out a little grunt of surprised discomfort.