Being spontaneous

[Splattella]

Hiya

Now, I love setting aside a weekend for a grand sploshing session and going out and buying all the ingredients and making up the pies and slime and whatnot and planning how I'm going to cover myself in messy food and then spending hours sploshing.

But spontaneous WAM sessions are even better I reckon.

Tonight after work I shopped and then had a bite with a girlfriend and so was heading home fairly late. A short sharp shower of rain got me nicely damp so instead of heading straight home I thought I should take advantage of a wet day. I took a detour to the river and, as night fell, went down some boat steps into the water. I was wearing really old clothes anyway that had had plenty of wet sessions before: jeans, ballet flats, satin shirt. God it was so satisfying to wade into the muddy river, then sit in the water on the steps kicking my legs in the flow, then jumping right in. I kept this up for ages, just didn't want to stop my first river session of the spring. It's a long walk home from there but who cares when you can squelch in your sopping, clinging clothes all the way.

Isn't an unexpected opportunity for getting wet and messy just brilliant? What do you prefer? Organised mess or spontaneous mess?

[smittybill53]

As far as current living conditions go spontaneous wamming is definitely out. If the weather cooperates and it's late enough then I can usually manage something.
I usually try to be dressed in something I would prefer to wam in when going out but the conditions have only come to fruition once. It started to downpour and I was riding back from a party on my motorcycle and got completely soaked. Other than that time I've had no luck pursuing a public accidental wamming.

I do like spontaneity however planning usually is more likely to get results.

Cheers

[Splattella]

And again...

Today started out fine and I went off to meet friends in a little summer dress and leggings but didn't quite trust the weather so I took a raincoat. I was right. The rain started falling at lunchtime, gently at first, then harder, until by evening it was torrential. I was on a train so I decided to take some immediate wet action, got off a stop early and, hiding my umbrella in my bag, walked the rest of the way home in the driving rain as though I had no brolly. My cute little flat shoes didn't stand up to puddles over one inch deep, which was most of them, and soon my feet were lovely and squelchy. In places with few people about I opened my coat to let the rain wet my dress. Little drops found their way down my cleavage, each one like a little damp caress. At one point there was a flood six inches or more deep and I splashed through, soaking my ankles and calves.

By the time I'd got near home my dress was nicely wet and the coat was channelling rain down my leggings and into my sopping shoes. Then I saw the perfect opportunity: a line of gutters broken in several places. There were big drips and little showers and dribbles and cascades. I tried them all. Just letting the water pour onto my head, or down my front, or down the back of my neck slowly making its cool wet way down to my knickers while the rain poured over my front, or just putting my legs under the torrents from broken downpipes till my leggings glistened in the faint light. I just lingered in all the dribbles until I was totally sopping, wringing, soaking wet all through. Even I was impressed when the cascades off my clothes soaked my hall and kitchen floors and stair carpet. Water was quite literally pouring off me in a flood for several minutes as I filled the bath. It was lovely having a final fully clothed soak in a warm bath and thinking of what a perfect end that was to a fun day.

Nothing like being spontaneous, eh?

Love,

Splattella