UMD and bath night

I know it’s taken me a while to write this up, sorry about that! But I hope you think it’s worth the wait! šŸ˜‰ And I see my stats have gone through the roof this morning so I guess UMD has finally approved the blog – hi to all my new readers, hope you enjoy this!

As I said in my last post, Wednesday was a slow day at work and I found myself continually distracted by my new friends on UMD – I’ve been a lurker there for a long, long time but always resisted signing up and interacting with people, for fear that I would be pounced upon by loads of horny guys. That sounds really conceited, doesn’t it? What I mean is, the impression I’ve gained from observing the online wetlook community over the years is that loads of guys are into it, but hardly any girls; and amongst the women who do enjoy getting wet and messy, there seems to be a far greater preference for the messy side of things. Personally, mess doesn’t do anything for me, but then I’m not keen on the idea of ruining my clothes – most items can stand up to a soaking but not necessarily getting covered in goop! So when I did take the plunge and sign up to UMD I did get a fair bit of immediate attention, but I’m happy to report that the vast majority of it has been positive, interesting and enjoyable, with only one or two blokes attempting to hit on me and asking if I’d meet with them, based solely on one photo of my arse… Anyway! I’m getting away from the point. šŸ˜€

So, I was distracted by UMD and in particular a photo set of one of my new friends in the shower in her business suit. I knew right there and then that as soon as I got home I was going to have to get wet in the clothes I was wearing in the office. This was about 3:30, so I had an hour and half to sit around in the office until I could reasonably leave. It felt like the slowest ninety minutes of my life, and even after that I had a half hour bus journey to deal with before I got home. These days the urge to get wet doesn’t seize me as often as it used to, but when it does, like this time, it completely takes over. A couple of times I caught myself staring at my fellow bus passengers and imagining them getting all wet in their smart suits, their tight jeans, their… God, could this bus go any slower?

By the time I finally got home I’d had plenty of time to sketch out in my head exactly what I was going to do. Making sure the front door was locked behind me – I didn’t want any unexpected visitors to spoil the moment, I’ve fallen for that one before – I marched straight into the bathroom and started filling the tub with hot water. As you’ve probably gathered, my bath is very important to me, so I have a big corner tub with a little seat indented into it in the corner where it meets the wall. While the water ran I went back to hang up my bag and coat – if, somehow, the bath had already been full I’d probably have just plunged straight in with my coat on too, but I needed it for the next day and I wasn’t sure it would be dry in time. I’d made up my mind that was all I was taking off though – the weather was turning colder and I’d already decided to wear boots tomorrow, so the shoes I had on today could take a soaking and have time to dry out before I needed them again. They were staying on, along with my black trousers, white blouse with black polka-dots and, as I was still a bit chilly, I decided I’d keep my black cardigan on too.

I paused to stroke the cat (not a euphemism!) and make a cup of tea and by the time I got back to the bathroom the tub was pretty full. The water was a little bit hotter than I would have liked, but I wasn’t in the mood to wait while I drained off some of the hot water and topped it up with cold. I’d waited long enough already! In fact I was slightly taken aback at just how much my heart was pounding as I lifted my left leg over the side of the tub and into the water.

Straight away the hem of my trouser leg took its fill of water and began to float around my calf. My shoe put up more resistance, but it soon became overwhelmed, forcing out millions of tiny bubbles as the water pushed the last remnants of air out of its way. I wriggled my toes around inside the waterlogged shoe. Often when I’m just after a quick wet clothing fix I don’t bother with shoes as they’re too much trouble to dry out afterwards, but now I remembered how much more exciting it was to keep them on. Gently I lifted my other leg into the water, savouring the feeling of bubbles coming out of my right shoe, and sat down on the seat.

The water wasn’t quite to the level of the seat but it wasn’t far away, and as I stretched my legs out in front of me I could feel the warm water creeping up the back of my thighs. Enough teasing myself, I thought, and lowered myself fully into the tub, shivering with pleasure as the water soaked right through my trousers and my knickers. My cardigan and blouse both began to float around my waist, and I could see that my white blouse had already gone see through where it had touched the water. I pressed it down against my belly and allowed my hand to wander down into the water between my legs for a moment. Then, taking a breath, I slid forward and dunked my upper body under the water.

I savoured the feeling of my clothes and hair floating around me underwater for as long as I could, but I had to surface. A torrent of water poured from my saturated clothes as I came up for air. It was only now I realised I hadn’t got a towel ready, but that was a minor detail. I wiped the water out of my eyes and slicked back my wet hair. My blouse and cardigan, whch had been so light and floaty under the surface of the water, now clung heavily to me in a warm, wet embrace. After an afternoon of pent-up anticipation, it felt like heaven.

I stayed in there for a while longer, lifting my legs out of the water to see the shine of the saturated cotton of my trousers and feel them cling tightly to my legs, then lowering them back in so that they went back to floating around me. After a few more minutes I took off my shoes, poured the water out of them and placed them in the sink to begin the drying process. I stood up to examine myself in the mirror, looking like a waterfall as the water poured out of my sodden clothes. Wringing water out of my cardigan, which fell back into place against my body with a wet slap, I began to primp myself, pushing my clothes against my body to remove some of the excess water and, conveniently, make them cling to me even tighter. My black trousers, normally quite a loose fit when dry, were now plastered to my legs like Lycra and as shiny as PVC, while my blouse no longer hid very much of my upper body – the water had turned the white cotton completey see through, the pink of my skin and my white bra clearly visible underneath. I like to think I’m not a vain person, I don’t think I’m particularly good looking and I’m not all that fond of my body, but I always love the way it looks when it’s covered in wet, clingy clothing, hinting at the secrets underneath without actually revealing too much.

This had been quite a conservative outfit when I’d been wearing it in the office an hour or so earlier – what would my colleagues say if they could see me now? I’m not romantically involved with anyone at the moment but there are a couple of people in the office who I’d like to think would react positively to seeing me all drenched and disheveled like this… I sank back into the bath to think about their reaction for a while, if you get my meaning! šŸ˜‰ Eventually I decided I’d been in long enough, so I stripped off my wet clothes and dumped them in the sink while I dried off and got into my pyjamas. A quick spin in the washing machine and there was no sign that I’d done anything naughty in the clothes I’d been wearing all day, they were just laundry now. Next time I wear that outfit to the office, no one will have the faintest idea that I wore it into the bath! šŸ˜Ž

Hannah x

One Comment

  1. […] I said there were a couple of people in the office who I hoped would react favourably to seeing me in the bath in my office wear, he’s the main person I was thinking of. Oh yes, the blog, and the bath, and the UMD… […]


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