Wetlook World Forum

Message # 23478.1

Subject: Re: A little muddy, wet, sad and oily story

Date: Sat 08/07/06 15:33:33 GMT

Name: regenman

Email: regenman@planet.nl

Website:

By WetMartina - wetmartina@sonnenkinder.org Sat 08/07/06 13:57:57 GMT

Website:

somehow I can't resist to post a small narrative of my wet trip today. English is not my native language, so forgive if somewhere I didn't find the right word or phrase. I would appreciate very much if you correct me. Also, if such stories are not desired here, please tell me.

For those of you only after wetlook pictures and videos: Go to the next message. Now. No pictures here, no links, just plain words.

It wasn't such a hot day like the last two weeks have been here in Germany. We've had some thunderstorm and rain last night and this morning, but then in the afternoon the temperature rose up to about 28 °C. That made me decide to go down to the river. I slipped into the jeans, sandals and shirt I wanted to get wet in, grabbed something to change and started.

As usually, I went by bicycle. The first part of the way is just boring, it's parallel to a much frequented road. But then, the last few kilometres lead through some small woods and between some fields. The path is not asphalted there, only suitable for pedestrians and bikers and tractors. Only a few people were on their way there, and often I was alone, nobody to see. The rain we had the hours before had formed a lot of puddles. Some at the edge, where tractor tyres had depressed the ground, some all over the way. I had to be carefully to cycle around them in order not to get wet or messy.

You know what comes? Suddenly, like a lightning, an strange idea hit me. I was a child when I did this the last time: Why not drive straight through the puddles? Hm? Who said one must be dry and clean to get wet? It was less than a second, and I knew: Yes! My heart started to beat faster. The next small puddle was not far away, no one was before me or behind me. I was quite fast, the front wheel hit the water and Splash! the water spattered up to my knees. It felt incredibly fantastic, at first on my bare feet in sandals, later all over my legs. The sun had head up the flat water, it was really warm, I guess about 30 °C. That hot water instantly made me to become addicted to more puddles. Nothing was able to stop me. I accelerated to get enough speed for the next puddle. And the next, and the next. There was a lot there, small and large ones. I tried to hit as much as possible of them, at least as long as no other people were in sight. After all, when I finally arrived at the river, I was wet and spattered with mud up to my waist. Some few people I met on the way, funny enough they all tried to not look at me and to ignore that silly dirty woman.

I arrived at the river, surprisingly almost no people were there BBQing or fishing. I hat an easy job to find a proper place, and the first thing I did was a little clean-up for my bicycle, setting it into the shallow water and pouring some handfuls of water over the most dirty parts. That done, I laid down at the edge, directly at the waterline, waiting for the ship that just came by to produce waves that would wet an innocent (well, wet and muddy) girl. I had a great time there laying in the waves, running into the water and swimming around.

The place there is not completely hidden from the way, but with so few people I met before I had no fear to become observed. However, I just laid in the water, a young woman appeared on the way, stood there and looked at me. She wore a light summer dress and she seemed to consider: join her or go further? I was somehow sure she wanted to swim, too. She stood there a long time, and I'm not sure whether she thought “What a silly woman, swimming in clothes” or “Me too, please” (I hope the latter, of course). The way was too far away, I could not read her facial expression. I waved with my head to signal her she was welcome, but she weakly shook her head and went on.

When I finally made my way home I saw her sitting on the river at some distance from my place, together with a man and two children. I still don't know why, but that made me a bit sad.

Now I had to avoid all the puddles (maybe the sadness came from there), but my bicycle began to make strange squeak noises. I managed to ignore that and finally arrived home.

After doing some urgent work there I went downstairs to visit my poor bicycle. I apologized with some warm words, trying to explain that I could not resist, and it got an extra portion of finest oil spray over all the moving parts. Hopefully it lets me ride again tomorrow. I still didn't tell it where to go...

I had a wonderful day. And you? Stay wet.

Martina