Cloudburst

storm clouds

It’s been an unusually warm, dry, sunny summer in the UK this year. Most years we’re lucky if we get a couple of weeks of decent weather (usually one in May and another in September, with a constant drizzle in between), but this year June and July were pretty spectacular. In fact, this has been easily the longest spell of good weather I can remember; people have been comparing it to the heatwave of 1976, which was long before I was born, and I remember 2003 was very hot (I was 13 and had a lot of water fights that summer!) but I’ve never known a summer like this. Of course the rain had to come eventually, but after such a long dry spell it would be a relief when it did.

It happened a few Fridays ago; my last day at work before taking a week off, but that’s another post for another time. The warm sunshine of the past few weeks had been gradually giving way to a more overcast, oppressive heat and by Friday the clouds were gunmetal grey and ready to burst.

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Testing the Water: my first wet experiences

Since I stuck my head (complete with running make-up and plastered down hair) above the parapet a couple of weeks ago I’ve had conversations with lots of interesting people (and a couple of dullards, ha ha) about the wetlook fetish and our varying experiences. It surprised me to discover that a significant number of us have very similar stories to tell about how we discovered the joy of wet clothes, and that many of us knew from a very young age – even before we knew anything about sex – that there was something special going on. I’ve also spent a lot of time answering the same questions from dozens of different people, so instead of repeating myself ad infinitum in private messages, I decided it would be better to write properly detailed accounts of my wet experiences. With that in mind, here’s part one of “How Hannah Discovered She Was A Weirdo Who Enjoyed Getting Her Clothes All Soaking Wet”. Catchy title, don’t you think? » Read more