Not only did we like playing in mud, the sloppier the better, but had now agreed the blindingly obvious that we we liked the feel of PVC and rubber. This was both the feel of wearing it and the feel of it as we held each other. Thus, in this typical British summer, we were waiting for the storm that was about to break, wearing a full set of heavy rain wear, but with only a swimsuit underneath. The patio doors were open ready for us to dash out as soon as the rain started and in the meantime we were having a cuddle, caressing each others PVC covered bodies.
As soon as the first drop landed on the window we were out side ready for the rest. It started a steady drizzle but that was not enough for us and we were getting a bit disappointed when, without warning, the heavens opened. The rain was like absolute stair roods, just how we like it. We were dancing and holding each other like maniacs. Our hands ran over each other enjoying the smooth slippery feel of wet PVC.
We do not have a mud pit as suck but one section of the garden that is well away from prying eyes has been deliberately churned up and it was not long before we rolling in this. Disaster the rain started to slow, but at least it did not stop. To compensate for this, out came the hose pipe that was left from last time. We run two pipes from one tap and there is sufficient pressure to run both at one to a reasonable level or just one for a good blast. This is normally used for washing off gear that has been muddied on one of our expeditions, the run off water draining onto the churned up area.
In no time we were squirting each other and it was only a matter of time before one of us slipped over. In this case it was I, and Sally was soon standing over me spraying me mercilessly. I, of course fired back up her from where I lay. Neither of us gave way so I wrapped my arms round her muddy wellies and dragged her down on top of me.
In no time we were rolling about gabbing handfuls of mud and splatting it onto each other. The rain started harder again and we kissed, pushing our hoods so close together that rain could not get our faces, but our muddy hands still wandering.
The next time the rain slowed it was a case of hosing the mud from each other and in the doorway removing our rain wear before going for a shower.
Love to all, Sandra
Stories and fantasies about rainwear.
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