Chapter 5 [The Secret Diary: Fluorite in the End of the World, Tide Underneath the Latex, and a Handshake with an Acquaintance]

May 25th, 9:30 AM.

For today, I started "arming up" two hours early.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my apartment, I almost didn't recognize myself. The timid male college student had completely disappeared, replaced by an operator from *Arknights: The End of the World*—Fluorite.

This cosplay outfit is a masterpiece tailor-made for this succubus skin, even more erotic than the original artwork.

The core piece is a dark gray, body-hugging combat suit. It's not ordinary fabric, but a high-tech, glossy material similar to liquid latex. Wearing it is a ritual that is both torturous and pleasurable. This material has extremely high elasticity, clinging to every inch of my skin like a second skin, completely squeezing out any air.

"Ah...so tight..."

With the sound of the zipper being pulled up, my breathing became difficult.

My G-cup breasts were forcibly wrapped and lifted by the bodysuit, presenting a gravitationally defying spherical shape. The shiny material reflected a white luster on my chest, and with each breath, the taut fabric made a soft "squeak, squeak" sound.

The waist was cinched extremely tight, while the design of the hips was the most lethal part of the outfit—the high slit cut went straight into the upper thighs, perfectly outlining the contours of the pubic bone. Because it was so tight, the shape of the camel toe between the legs was faintly visible under the glossy material, as if silently inviting the invasion of gaze.

He wore a white, functional, short hooded jacket over his clothes, the wide cuffs and sturdy tactical straps creating a striking visual contrast with the muscular physique underneath. Yellow zippers and a decorative strap around the neck added a touch of dangerous energy.

I put on the matcha green high ponytail wig, adjusted the brim of my hat, and finally donned a pair of almost transparent tactical goggles. The

"Fluorite" in the mirror had an arrogant gaze, a half-smile playing on her lips, her legs slightly parted, her full mons pubis, encased in a tight-fitting suit, facing the mirror.

I reached out and gently stroked my smooth, mirror-like thigh. The feel of my fingertips gliding across the surface of the latex suit was unbelievably smooth, while the pressure from within the leather made my legs feel weak.

"Eat your fill today,"

I whispered to the succubus in the mirror, feeling the love juices

welling , lubricating my tight valley.

At 11:00 AM,

as soon as I entered the convention hall, I was hit by a deafening roar of voices and a wave of heat.

But I felt no discomfort whatsoever; on the contrary, I felt every pore on my body opening up. The air here was filled with the smells of sweat, hormones, and various rubber and fabric materials—it was practically a succubus's buffet.

The moment I appeared, the surrounding space seemed to freeze for a second.

Then came a flurry of camera shutter clicks.

"Holy crap! That's a glowstone from the End?!" "The accuracy is off the charts! That figure...that chest..." "Quick, quick, quick! Reserve a spot!"

Without anyone giving directions, the photographers quickly formed a semicircle, their long lenses like countless hungry eyes, fixed intently on me.

Unlike typical cosplayers who would be shy, I walked straight to the center of the open space.

The bio-armor was restless. It sensed hundreds of gazes around it, filled with desire—astonishment, lewdness, adoration, and blatant lust. These gazes transformed into streams of warm energy, penetrating the tight-fitting latex suit and continuously flowing into my body.

It's so hot. It feels so good.

I slowly squatted down, mimicking the pose from the game.

It was an extremely demanding and alluring pose.

My legs were spread wide apart, and I squatted down in a posture similar to an "Asian squat," shifting my weight backward. As I did this, my dark gray bodysuit was stretched to its limit at the hips.

"Click, click, click—"

The flashes of light turned the room into daylight.

I could feel countless cameras pointing between my legs. There, because of my squatting position, my legs were stretched wide open, and my tight-fitting clothes were deeply embedded in my thighs and genitals, outlining the shape of my plump labia.

I deliberately puffed out my chest, making my large, compressed breasts stand out even more in front of the camera; you could even see the hard, erect nipples under my latex suit.

"Um...can I look this way? Give me a look!" "Beautiful lady, could you spread your legs a little wider?"

The photographers' demands were getting increasingly outrageous, but I wasn't angry at all. On the contrary, I enjoyed being used as the object of my sexual fantasies. I tilted my head, looked at the camera through my green bangs with a contemptuous yet provocative gaze, and even made a cute peace sign.

"Haa..."

Under the cover of the mask and the noise, I let out a barely audible groan.

A surge of energy was rushing in. My underwear was completely soaked; a viscous liquid flowed inside my tight-fitting latex suit, making a slippery "gurgling" sound between my skin and the suit with each movement. The shameful feeling of secretly orgasming in front of hundreds of people almost made me lose control in front of the camera.

Just then, a figure squeezed to the front.

That was Old Wang.

He had a basic, not-so-professional DSLR camera hanging around his neck, and he was sweating profusely, but his eyes were unusually sharp. Unlike other photographers who were only focused on taking pictures of my chest and legs, his gaze was fixed on my hands.

My heart skipped a beat, but what followed was an even more intense sense of excitement.

He really came. He really doubted me.

"Um... Miss Fluorite!"

Old Wang shouted, his voice trembling with nervousness, "I'm your fan! Could... could I get a close-up? I want to take an interactive photo!"

The surrounding photographers booed in dissatisfaction, but I inexplicably reached out my hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.

I looked at Old Wang, and through his goggles, I could see the struggle and longing in his eyes.

I slowly stood up, and in that instant, the tight-fitting latex suit snapped back, making a crisp "smack" as it hit my skin.

I walked up to him, looking down at him. Now I was wearing high heels, making me half a head taller than him.

"How would you like to interact, puppy?"

I lowered my voice, asking in a disguised, metallic, mature tone.

Old Wang swallowed hard, his face turning bright red.

"Could...could we shake hands? I'd like to take a picture from this angle."

We shook hands.

He wanted to see the base of my right thumb. It was covered by a black tactical glove, but he was clearly persistent, wanting to confirm the presence of the mole by touch, or to see if there was a bulge under the glove.

So clever, and so daring.

My heart pounded, not with fear, but with excitement. This feeling of dancing on the edge of a cliff was amazing.

I slowly extended my right hand. It was covered by a black half-finger tactical glove, revealing long, slender fingertips painted with green nail polish.

“If it’s a fan’s request… then there’s nothing I can do.”

When my fingertips touched his rough palm, I felt Old Wang shudder.

He gripped my hand tightly. It was less a handshake and more a kneading motion. His thumb swiftly and subtly slid across the web of my thumb and forefinger, pressing firmly on that spot.

He was looking for that mole.

Unfortunately, all he felt was the cold, leathery texture of the glove and the soft, boneless female hand beneath it, softened by the bio-armor's reconstruction.

The mole was still there, but completely hidden by the glove.

"What's wrong?" I deliberately tilted my head, leaning forward, my enormous breasts almost pressing against his camera lens. "Your hands are shaking? Are you too excited?"

Old Wang's expression changed several times. He seemed to have failed to find what he was looking for, and a hint of disappointment flashed in his eyes, but more than that, he seemed confused by the strong female hormones emanating from me.

"N-nothing...it's nothing. Your hands...are very soft," Old Wang stammered, his gaze involuntarily falling on the deep cleavage of my chest.

I withdrew my hand and casually traced a circle around his lens cap with my index finger.

"Make sure the photos look good. If you make me look ugly..."

I leaned close to his ear and said with a teasing smile in a voice only the two of us could hear:

"Tonight I'll go into your dreams... and drain you dry."

With that, I turned and left him with a dashing silhouette, my round buttocks, encased in a tight-fitting latex suit, swaying from side to side as I walked, like a ripe peach.

A flurry of camera shutter clicks erupted behind me.

I didn't need to turn around to know that Old Wang was frantically snapping photos of my back.

And beneath that tight-fitting latex suit, my climax finally arrived uncontrollably.

In the center of this stage, filled with flashing lights and stares, amidst the tense moment of my roommate's suspicion and probing, I stood, my legs tightly clamped together, letting the scalding heat wash over my sensitive inner walls.

"Mmm...!"

My body jolted violently, and I nearly lost my balance and fell.

Luckily, to onlookers, it looked like a sexy, unsteady turn.

This body had absorbed too much energy; I felt like I was about to explode. I needed to find somewhere to release it, even if it was just in the crowded restroom at this anime convention…