The Splosh UK Forum

Part I (Hi guys... I just finished this Part I of my story and I can tell you EVERY word in this Part is exactly how it happened last night! Haven't planned out what I'm going to say in Part II, or however many parts it takes to finish this story, because right now I'm just replaying it in my head as it happened last night. So I can't promise any of you right now that I will tell you the entire story exactly how it happened. But it might just wind up being related to all of you that way. Anyway, here's Part I. Enjoy. I should be starting Part II in a few minutes. Smooch. Christina)

Christina stood in the basement of her home. She was trembling quite noticeably. True the basement was chilly, especially on this February evening in her village located somewhere in the northeast US. It also didn't help that she was completely naked. But she had been planning tonight for several weeks, and it really was the anticipation of what she was just about ready to do, for she was officially about to begin tonight's adventure, that was making her as jumpy as a cat forced to walk through large puddles of water with nowhere to escape except to get her paws wet.

While still standing in the chilly basement completely naked, her mind wandered briefly back to her workday earlier that day. She realized how grateful she was on how the day went. Normally, she works predominantly alone. Taking the occasional call and talking briefly to fellow workers and support staff. But, as a fairly senior employee in her own niche of the business, she was more of a self-worker than involved in team-like activity. If today had been a normal workday, she probably would have spent most of it thinking about the fun she was going to have later this evening, which would have made the day drag unbearably forever.

But she got lucky. Only a couple of days earlier, she was unexpectedly invited to a conference being held in the nearby large city. Often she had to attend these by traveling alone, which would have put her in the same situation as if she had stayed in her office. But this time, two other office workers were also going to the conference. So there was constant conversation and interaction with people during the entire day. Small talk and office gossip on the way to and from the conference, and the simply non-stop banter with all the exhibitors showing off their products at the conference. They even ran into some of their counterparts from competing companies who were also checking out the products on display. And although these people were, technically, fighting for the same business Christina's company was, there was no animosity with these people who actually did the work. Quite the contrary, they were all friendly and respectful to each other and were fun people in the industry to share even more gossip with. So the workday simply flew by.

With her mind returning to the current realities of being naked in her basement and the task at hand, Christina had carefully selected her outfit for the rest of the evening. It was now time to get dressed for tonight's festivities. There was this old turquoise sports bra that she had never used because of its ridiculous color. And when she was younger and in her 20s, Christina was pretty religious about hitting the gym on a regular basis. So she still had a ton of rather sexy workout clothing stored away in the basement that she never really got to wear.

Back then she would sometimes wear sexy little short shorts under thong bodysuits when she attended her aerobics class at the local Y, trying to attract the guys running on the circular track above the gym floor or the chaps lifting weights on the second floor who would constantly look down onto the gym on the first floor when the girls took over for their exercise classes, or even the occasional fella or fellas who would join all the ladies in the aerobics class, obviously more interested in looking at the women in their skimpy outfits and possibly picking up one of them than doing the workout themselves.

Christina had found stashed away in one cardboard box an article of clothing that surprised even her. A VERY naughty pair of what these days would be called booty shorts. It was white and sheer. It would have been quite short and quite revealing under her thong leotard even 15 years ago when she was in incredible condition. Now that her demanding work and personal schedule made it nearly impossible to work out with any regularity, she would have looked ridiculous wearing these in public and not just because wearing little booty shorts under thong workout togs is no longer in fashion. So these little shorts were the perfect choice to wear for what she had planned that evening because she could totally wreck them and never mind.

Still naked, she tracked down the last item of her intended ensemble -- beige thigh-high stockings. She almost never did what she was about to do without wearing thigh-high stockings.

She now slowly and carefully began dressing herself in each of the items. Enjoying the feeling how the spandex in her too tight sports bra encased her breasts as she had to drag it and pull it and stretch it to fit over her chest which, like the rest of her body, was no longer quite the size that fit into any of these exercise items anymore. And what a benefit was caused by the fact that she really shouldn't be wearing these items anymore. The excitement of all the shifting and dragging of the fabric of Christina's bra caused her nipples to stiffen, which made the tension of the fabric that much more intense. And this was not the flimsy elastic material in many of today's women's sports bra. This was almost like a bathing suit top. It would be perfect for what Christina had in mind for the evening.

The shorts were even a tougher struggle to put on, making their eventual presence on her butt that much more sublime, because there was absolutely no way she could ever forget that her ass was so tightly encased. Even standing perfectly still, Christina was forced to flex her gluts purely out of reflex, because the tension of the fabric there caused her skin to quiver. The reinforced hem at the bottom of the shorts slid ever gently to an unexpectedly perfect location -- high along the start of the lower curvature of her cheeks. She felt ashamedly exposed and exhilerated at the same time.

Finally, the stockings... oh so carefully and slowly stretched upward. First over the toes. Christina always made sure to move the entire fabric of the hosiery slowly over each part of the foot and leg thereby extending the time to complete the process. The toes, then the arch and then the heel. Then ever so gradually stretching the fabric bit by bit over the ankle. The calf, the knee and the thigh. Christina even spent a few seconds languishing over the elastic band at the top of the stockings, slipping a finger of each hand on opposite sides of one leg, and sliding the fingers around the entire leg, causing the elastic band to back off and then slide back on to the skin of the thigh. The feel of the silky smoothness of the nylons over her recently shaved legs caused Christina to shiver even more severely than before.

Christina could already feel the warmth being to develop in the tight cameltoe impression of her crotch. Her heart began racing at the thought of what was soon to happen.

Christina hunted down the old full-length mirror that was stored somewhere in the basement. She spotted it off in the corner. Slipping her stocking feet into her slippers so the soles of her stockings wouldn't get dirty walking on the uncarpeted section of the basement floor, Christina headed over to the mirror. Slightly saddened at how she had let her body lose some of its girlish shape over the years, Christina still couldn't hold back the excitement at how she looked and knowing what her plans were for the evening. The tiny white shorts looked like they were going to be just an amazing find. Christina had let her pubic hair go untrimmed for several weeks so that it could now be at its fullest. It was clearly visible through the sheer shorts. She found it hard to believe she ever actually wore these things in a public place, even if she had fully trimmed her bush and covered it with her thonged bodysuit! Moreover, she had found about a dozen more of exactly the same style stashed away in the boxes of her old workout clothes. Christina knew she was going to have a lot of fun trashing this kind of short short repeatedly during the week ahead.
End of Part I
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(Whew everyone! I'm getting myself worked up even just writing this and reliving in my mind everything I experienced last night! I need to take a momentary time out and fix myself a little drink, I think. Be back shortly with Part II! -- Christina)

Your a very good writer

Nice descriptive writing. I expect the continuing saga to be a bit less clean?

Part II
(Okay, Tanqueray and tonic in hand. Well, not literally "in hand." That would make typing a little tough, wouldn't it? And, unfortunately for me, the gin and tonic is the only part of last night I can actually replay tonight. I wish I could be back in the mess tonight! But soon, it will be 9 or 10 straight days of wamming. Probably starting a week from tomorrow. For now, though, here's Part II of last night's wam session.)

(I wrote the above intro before I started writing Part II. Now that I've finished writing it, I'm putting in this second intro. I'm sure it's a little bit of the effect of the gin and tonic I'm drinking, and a little bit that I'm an emotional person at times, and, until now I have not had the ability to tell ANYONE this part of my story. So you folks, if you're reading this, will have to be putting up with a little of my feelings here about the true gift I think my hubby will be giving me shortly. One of my reasons for putting this second intro here is to give you readers advanced notice that there's no wam and no sex in Part II. I had originally intended that there would be, but then my emotional side took over... as well as, I suspect, the Tanqueray. So just skip to Part III if you want to move on to just the messy details!!! And in case your wondering, this story contains our real names, it's just that they're names no one except our parents and possibly our siblings would know or remember. Roman Catholics... at least in the States... take on a second middle name when they receive the sacrament of Confirmation. This name probably only appears in the confirmed person's church records and the memories of their families... so I think I'm pretty safe by using our real "second" middle names here. Also, the events revealed here, particularly the historical ones, are not precisely related in this Part as they truly occurred, because the "negotiation" part of the story between me and my hubby really occurred over several day. (Although I did tackle him and fuck him on the living room floor when we finally reached an agreement.) I couldn't take you through all that in the exact way it happened, because this story would get too bogged down in details. I'm also dramatizing the events a little, especially when I'm expressing exactly what's going on in my hubby's head, because he would never really tell me all these things he's feeling. I mean, he is a typical guy and all. He rarely tells me what he's really thinking. So I'm just guessing here. This means I'm definitely ending my practice of going with 100% reality.)
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Christina breathed deeply and exhaled fully as she stood encased in fabrics and clothing that were fiercely turning her on simply by standing still. And every move she took made something shift or rub her body in a way that intensified the pleasure. But she was still hesitating a moment. She was steeling her nerves for what was now just the beginning of a what would become a very long and exciting evening.

"Joe!" she yelled. "I need your help now, hun!" Christina decided she'd better put on her bathrobe. With a little over a week to go before the two of them would begin sharing her immense love of totally filthy, disgusting, messy sex, it might be better for him not to see too far ahead of time how truly pervertedly she was planning to dress up for this. Christina didn't want to do anything that might scare him off.

Christina heard the door at the top of the basement stairs creak open slowly. Then there came the thumping-like sound of each of Joe's steps down the old wood stairs leading to the basement. Christina had separated the materials she was planning to use this evening into two cardboard boxes. She could handle lifting the cardboard box containing the 8 boxes of brownie batter up the basement steps. But the box with the 29 bottles of chocolate sundae syrup was a bit risky for her to carry up all at once. She didn't want to take the chance of throwing her back out or tweaking a hamstring and totally disabling her for what she really had in store for a week from now.

For just a few short weeks ago, Joe had done for Christina probably the sweetest thing he had yet done in their nearly 12 years of marriage. It was her 40th birthday. But he wanted to celebrate his dearest, deepest appreciation for something far beyond that. Christina had been an incredible source of strength and support for him through some very tough times these past 4 years, and now that things were much better for Joe he wanted to find a way to sacrifice for her as she had sacrificed for him. His offer probably wouldn't quite fully repay Christina back completely for what she did during the entire four years, but considering what Joe suspected would be Christina's choice, this would require a substantial sacrifice on Joe's part.

So on the date of her fortieth birthday about eight weeks earlier, Joe told Christina she could have absolutely anything she wanted for her birthday present. Now although they had been through tough times together these past 4 years, as well as during other points in their marriage, as all marriages go, financial issues had never been one of them. Joe and Christina both had very nice jobs and the finer things in life were not difficult to get. Plus they had been unable to have children, so that never strained their resources.

So Joe knew exactly what he was potentially exposing himself to when he made the offer to Christina on her birthday. Prior to the two of them dating, Christina had a couple of boyfriends who had participated in what was, to Joe at least, a truly insane sex fetish. An absolutely abhorrent and disgusting fetish.

Christina thrived on having sex in sweet and messy substances. And not just a bottle or two of Hershey's syrup playfully poured onto her body. THAT might be a little understandable. Oh no! She had to be devoured by the goo. The heavier, the thicker, the messier, the deeper, the dirtier, the nastier, the more humiliating, the better. Her only saving grace is that it completely destroyed her sex urges if the messy items used smelled foul in any way. So at least it had to be sweet-smelling substances.

So Joe was in a considerable bind. He wanted to please his wife and make her happy. But it turned him off to share in her fantasy. And yet for her, she could not repeat the frequency, the number or, most importantly, the sheer power of her orgasms using anything else other than playing in very specific sweet and messy goo. The closest she could get to that level of excitement is when they had sex in the water or outdoors, but even that wasn't the same.

So Joe knew he was going to have to find a way to make this happen if Christina decided to choose that as her 40th birthday gift. Immediately after he made his open-ended offer to her, his wife cautiously and hesitantly whispered, "Do you really mean I get my choice of anything.. I mean ANYTHING I want?" Joe looked at Christina straight in the eye and said in a calm and steady voice, "Anything." "You do know what I'm talking about?" she asked, hesitantly. Joe chuckled softly as he replied, "What, you think I don't know exactly what you mean? That I don't know you so well, that I don't know precisely what you really want to do?"

"Okay, just so you hear me say it," she shook a little in wonderment if she was really hearing what her husband was offering. Christina wanted there to be no equivocation whatsoever as she announced, "Here's my birthday wish." Christina paused to make sure she wouldn't back down. Then she simply blurted it all out as quickly as she could, having to adjust her thoughts on the way because of how hurriedly she was coming up with what she wanted to do, "I want you to fuck me and I want to fuck you and I want us to have a lot of oral sex with both of us completely covered in maybe a foot deep, no, make it even two feet of something sweet, sticky and messy."

Joe swallowed slightly but noticeably and tried to say in his most convincing voice, "If that's your wish, then it's mine, too." There was a few moments of silence as the two contemplated the full extent of what had just been agreed to. Each was waiting for the other to speak.

"Hun," spoke Christina quietly and cautiously, "You now I absolutely love and adore you. But for you to agree to this, you HAVE to understand that I can only do this again with you if you really mean it. It will REALLY be difficult for me to plan this all out again and for you, uhhhmm, to decide you can't really go through with what I want like you did when we previously tried to do this years ago."

"Don't you think I haven't fully thought that through already?"

"I know, but I needed to hear you say that. You know that if you give me the green light to do this, there's some seriously long pent-up desires you're reopening here? You know how crazy I will get in getting fully prepared for this, don't you?"

"I swear to you, I will be ready and I won't back down."

"All right. We have a deal then. And I'm going to hold you to it. And it will be one fucking serious time. One FUCKING serious time. You know that, don't you? I'm talking over several days, probably with different substances."

"Whatever you want."

"Okay. Here's the deal. I want an entire week with you. Doesn't have to be 7 consecutive days. Maybe 7 days stretched over 10 days or 2 weeks something like that."

"Whatever."

"Are you absolutely fucking sure about this?"

"I am."

Christina ran at Joe, jumping on and literally tackling him as she kissed him deeply. They then made long and passionate love right there on the living room floor.
End of Part II
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On to Part III

smittybill53 wrote:Nice descriptive writing. I expect the continuing saga to be a bit less clean?

Go to Part III if you want filth smitty!

OMG, I must have spent 2 hours writing Part 3, but I don't see it here. Either I'll figure out where it went or we'll figure out what to do

Sorry to hear part 3 went missing Really hope you can bring yourself to relive it again, the earlier parts were brilliantly written. Felt like you were right there.

Damn, I was hoping when I woke up this morning, I'd find Part III somehow had made it. Sorry everyone. Sorry mucky. Part III will be pretty easy to recreate because I wrote that one exactly how it happened. I may express what happened a little differently, and my current recollection of PRECISELY the sequence of events may have changed a little from last night, but it will be basically the same. I was so desperate to get Part III up last night that I stayed up much later than I should have, and the gin and tonics didn't exactly help any. I will write Part III again (and maybe even Part IV) tonight.

Christina - just a quick note to say thank you for these recollections of the past few nights; you've managed to get this General Wam Banterer into the Reading Room for once!
Looking forward to part III...

Part III

(Hi everyone, me editorializing what I've just written now that I'm finished. It's after 2 am in the eastern US time zone where I live, and I have just spent over 4 hours writing and proofreading this. The benefit... or detremint... you get over my losing the version I wrote yesterday, is that this is FAR more fucking detailed than the first version. But I hope no one is upset over that. If you are, I apologize. But I figured, what the fuck. When you read this story -- and the parts that preceded it, I thing you'll understand why. And, obviously, there's at least a Part IV and probably a Part V to come. And I already know I am going to be completely worthless at work tomorrow! )

Christina's attention returned to the present time and the immediate task at hand, to get the messy items in the boxes up into the kitchen and eventually the bathtub. Joe had already nearly completed his part of carrying the box containing the chocolate syrup bottles up the stairs. But Christina carried the box with the cake batter boxes with slightly more deliberation. For the restrictive exercise clothing she was wearing under her robe was having an amazingly enticing and erotic effect on her with each and every movement of her body.

Her very low-cut sports bra, showing as much cleavage as it was mostly because it was stretched so tightly against her, was the kind that lacked any kind of independent support for her tits. It was simply a too tight polyester-spandex tank top. So her breasts, although held somewhat in place, still could move with some degree of freedom. Each step up the stairs caused them to jiggle more than just a little and show a little more cleavage with every jiggle, which made the inner side of the fabric slide over the skin of the outer third of each breast, deliciously scraping her already rock-hard nipples.

And the shorts created an even more disturbing sensation. The lower hem caressing the bottom curvature of each cheek gently slid higher up her ass with each separation of the legs, with each stretching to attain the next highest step. This caused the portion of the fabric already jammed up Christina's pussy to move with every step she took. Since both her arms were fully occupied with carrying the large cardboard box, there was no way Christina could adjust the bottom edge of her shorts. She giggled slightly to herself as it dawned on her that Joe probably would have appreciated this task far more if they had switched their order of procession up the stairs and she had removed her robe before ascending.

By the top of the basement stairs, Christina was unable to tell if the small beads of sweat beginning to appear all over her body were generated as a result of the exertion of the lifting the weight of the box up the stairs or the effect the clothing was having rubbing all of those sensitive parts of her body simultaneously. She let out a very slow, deep breath of air as she tried to compose herself.

Joe interrupted the various sensations spinning through his wife's mind with an abrupt clearing of his throat. "Uhm-huh. I think I'd better go take care of some shopping I have to do." Christina immediately knew her husband was full of shit. Like most men, Joe would never go out shopping on a weeknight when he had worked all day. Fuck, it was next to impossible to get him out of the house on the weekends to accompany her to the mall. She knew better what he was planning to do. Go to the nearby Barnes & Noble, snuggled into one of their oversized leather chairs near the fireplace and look through some sports books and magazines. Probably about the Yankees.

Christina thought she should take one stab at keeping him at home. She seductively opened the upper part of her robe and exposed her sweat-dampened cleavage to Joe. The persperation had actually begun to soak sections of the fabric slightly sufficiently so that a few darker-stained areas were beginning to appear. She knew Joe could not resist a good long look down her bra, and he did not disappoint her.

"You know I'm doing this wam session partly out of concern for you," see cooed somewhat coquetishly, tipping her head to the side slightly and wiggling her hips as she strode toward him. "Shit," thought Christina. "I bet I look REALLY sexy in my stupid slippers." She slowly slid them off each foot as if she were a stripper stepping out of her high heels. "You know that I'm really worried that I can't get the brownie batter to liquify sufficiently so as not to irritate your eyes when we play in it. Tonight, I want to test out a new method of mixing it. You know you can stay and watch me. I plan to have quite a few orgasms. And I think you remember the kind of orgasms I'm talking about."

Christina was mere inches away from pressing up against her husband's body. And Joe made no effort to hide the fact that he was uninterruptedly staring directly down at her substantially revealed bosom. But he would not break down his resistence, despite the obvious effect his wife's considerable charms was having on him. "No, I'm just not mentally and emotionally ready yet to deal with all this dirty sex you're planning. Watching you play in the mess alone will make me even more frustrated and guilty that I'm not willing just to jump in there with you and pleasure you."

Christina was touched at the effort and concern he was exhibiting. Despite Joe's attempt to keep his distance, Christina pulled up close to him, stretched up on her tippy toes, and kissed him sweetly and tenderly. "Go, go do what you have to do, you bum. Just remember that I'll be in our bathtub for a few hours after you leave. At least 2 maybe 3. You're welcome to come in at any time, NO MATTER WHAT I might be doing to myself at the time."

"That's okay, hun. If I need to use the bathroom, I'll use the one next to the guest bedroom."

"Okay, sweetie, but I'm just letting you know I have an open door policy." Christina snickered a little at what she just inadvertently said and could not stop herself in continuing her little pun. "And I literally mean, an open door policy. You are welcome to make yourself home through that open door any time you wish." Even Joe could not withhold enjoying her little tease. It was his turn to close the distance between himself and Christina, hold her rather strongly and kiss her deeply. He said as he pulled away, "Have yourself a ton of fun tonight."

As Joe turned and opened the front door to leave, Christina gave him a not too light slap on his ass, and said rather loudly as he walked out of the house, "All right, but if you hear me screaming in the bathtub when you return, you better be able to tell the difference between me screaming for help and me cumming out of my mind." Good things, Christina thought, that we have no neighbors in hearing range of what was just said.

As she closed the front door behind Joe, Christina turned back toward the kitchen where she could see most of the supply of wamming materials for the evening. Joe had kindly removed all the chocolate syrup bottles from the cardboard box and stacked them neatly on the kitchen table. "What a sweetie," was the thought that first and momentarily entered her head. That was until she began hyperventilating.

And then the reason for the change in her breathing pattern dawned on Christina. She quickly stripped off her robe, and simply let it lay there on the vestibule floor near the front door, something VERY uncharacteristic of the usually neat-as-a-pin Christina. She actually voiced the next words audibly to herself, "Oh my fucking god, this is REALLY about to happen!"

Her mind drifted back to that series of days when she last wammed. It was August of 2005. Before Joe's illness. Back then he took a yearly trip around the country with his school buddies trying to visit every major league baseball stadium in the country over the course of several years. This was the week Christina would typically take off from work to spend three to five days a year alone in whatever messy substance struck her fancy at the time.

She whispered slowly but audibly to herself again, "It has been one fucking long time, girlfriend." She hesitated as the emotions of the moment began to overwhelm her. Christina actually went a little weak at the knees and had to grab a nearby kitchen chair briefly for support. She let out a wild and full laugh and nearly shouted, "C'mon, you slutty bitch. Move your ass."

Christina bit her lip hard. Although she had pretty much fully planned out how she wanted to do this, she was suddenly like a naughty five year-old girl who had total free reign to do whatever messy thing she wanted. "Okay," she now thought only silently. "Let's begin by sticking with your original plan, and then just wing it from there as the feeling strikes you."

Task number one, wam-proof the bathroom. That meant moving out the floor rugs in front of the tub and even the toilet, just to play it safe. She had brought a large plastic garbage bag with her and draped one edge of the open side over the metal support for the sliding shower doors so as to create easy access to the bag for tossing in the emptied bottles of syrup. This also protected the metal track and the outside of the tub from being hit with too much dripping syrup.

And all this moving around the house just furthered the effect of the ever-shifting bra, booty shorts and thigh-high stockings. The heat emanating from Christina's crotch was beginning to become quite noticeable to her.

Christina returned to the kitchen table and began attacking the bottles of chocolate sundae syrup, only to receive a bit of a surprise when she opened the outside cap of the first bottle, the cap that most normal people use to allow the chocolate to flow out in only the tiniest of streams. Christina never poured the chocolate on her body through those caps. Too little chocolate flowing on her body too slowly that way.

But the bottle shape had somewhat changed since the last time she used them 4 1/2 years ago. In typical American fashion, the bottle contained less syrup and yet cost more, but the mouth of the bottle once the cap was removed was very wide, practically the width of the entire bottle. The last time she had used this brand of syrup, the mouth of the bottle was much narrower. Also the protective seal, which was next to impossible to remove before, had been improved and could be removed in a split second. Not the ten, twenty and even thirty seconds it had taken her before.

This was another moment of hesitation for Christina. It has been a long time since she last smelled the sweet, perverted, almost sickening smell of the filthiest, thickest, muddiest type of chocolate she knew to exist. And she was about to begin bathing herself in it. This was a moment to savor, as she released the pungent smell to her nostrils for the first time in years by pulling the aluminum foil seal off the first bottle.

And what a nasty smell it was. Just as she remembered. And something else unexpected to Christina was now experienced. The opening of this first bottle caused the intensity of the lubrication in her cunt to increase. Christina was glad that the bottles were so easy to open now. She was done opening all of them in just a couple of minutes. Once the aluminum seals had all been removed, she returned the outside covering caps to all 29 bottles of syrup.

Grabbing them 4 at a time from the kitchen table, she quickly walked them into the bathroom. Her movements were fast now, almost frantic. Her pussy was rapidly overheating. She needed to get herself messy. Christina did not want her first cum to be without at least SOMETHING messy on her.

But now Christina discovered that there was an obstacle she had not foreseen. The last time, when there were more ounces of syrup in each bottle, the bottle was larger and shaped more in an hour-glassed fashion. That made it easier to balance each bottle above the upper metal track that held the shower doors in place. The now slimmer bottles made this a MUCH more delicate task. They were JUST wide enough to position on the top of the upper track. The slightest error in placement made the bottle come crashing down on the bathtub floor, cracking the plastic outside cap.

Positioning each bottle on top of the metal track now became an operation of extreme care. Christina also had to stretch quite a bit to fully extend her arms high enough to complete the placement of each bottle. This slowed her progress down considerably and the disappointment of how long this would take before she could begin in the mess cooled the fire that had just been brewing in her vagina. At the same time, this also multiplied by a hundred times how often Christina had to feel her exercise clothing and stockings move and shift over the various parts of her body. This made the torture of her continued excitement, even at this slightly lower level, that much more extended and sublime.

Nevertheless, it wasn't all that long that she got about 18 bottles she needed to position on top of the shower doors in place, with only a couple of mishaps. The remaining 10 she was able to position in various places along the sides of the inside of the tub, on the soap dish extending from the wall of the shower and balanced on the metal bar across the inside of the shower door. With great care, almost reverently, she placed the first bottle she would pour down the front of her shorts on the tub floor. She knew to place that bottle last because that made her focus fully on the idea of what it would be like when she next grabbed that bottle to use on herself for the first time in so many years.

Now to the brownie batter. This meant moving to the kitchen sink area. It also meant standing in front of two of the more enormous windows in their house, windows completely unencumbered by drapes or shades. Christina and Joe lived in a house with a considerable amount of property, over 2 acres to be exact. But it was a weird topography. Virtually the entire back yard was very hilly. In fact their relatively small house was seated on the only flat piece of land they owned. Even the driveway leading out to the main road was on a rather steep incline.

This meant that except for the windows at the front of the house that faced the roadway, there was no need for covering any of the other windows in the house. There was no place for a peeping tom to situate himself, unless he was somehow related to a billy goat. This provided both Joe and Christina the freedom to pretty much walk around the house dressed however they pleased without fear of being seen. This always was a source of great sexual excitement for Christina because she was something of an exhibitionist. Even though she doubted anyone could be hiding outside watching her, the fact that the majority of the windows in the house were unprotected made her feel as if she were flashing the world. Again Christina had to laugh and think to herself, "You are one sick, fucking bitch."

Christina was desperately hoping she could hurry mixing up the batter. She broke open the first box. But now she was somewhat taken aback by the contents of the box once they had been revealed to her. There was soooo much powder in that large clear plastic bag. She cut open one side and dumped the dry batter into the largest metal mixing bowl in the house.

Thinking the box of brownie batter was now empty, Christina had almost put it all the way down the kitchen garbage can when she heard something move around in the box. She stuck her hand and pulled out a not so small foil packet. She had completely forgotten that she specifically purchased this brand of brownie batter because it came with Hershey's chocolate syrup to mix in.

"Damn," thought Christina, "now this is something to slow me down even more." She fumbled for the scissors and cut open a corner of the foil package. In her anxiety to get this process moving along, she squeezed so hard and randomly on the packet of chocolate, much of it slid over her fingers. And did THAT ever set off a series of bells in her brain as well as open another flood of wet warmth in Christina's pussy!

But she was not about to get side-tracked. Three more boxes were opened in the same manner, even if some more Hershey's syrup caressed and dripped down her hands. Christina filled a measuring cup with about three-quarters cup of warm water, and poured it into the metal bowl over her hands to clean off the syrup still sticking there. And now she turned on the electric beater.

Christina had game-planned in advance that it would probably take at least 15 or 20 minutes to fully liquify each of the two large bowls of batter she was preparing. This meant she had a lot of time to think and plan what was coming up ahead of her. But again fate played an unexpected card in the process.

Watching the batter slowly evolve into a mud-like mass hypnotized Christina. All she could think about was how the goo would clump on her face as she submerged it deep into the bowl. Christina was slowly loosing her capacity to think logically anymore. The nearness of her body being encased in the messiest, dirtiest of sustances had overloaded her the synapses of her brain.

It was passing 20 minutes of mixing the batter and still Christina could taste the smallest amount of granularization in the batter when she dipped her finger into the gigantic bowl and seductively slid it over her extended tongue. She continued the mixing for another 5 minutes, but she could still detect not all the batter had broken up yet. Christina made an executive decision that she simply couldn't hold off anymore. She would take her chances that if the batter was that emulsified, it would be enough.

She poured the contents of the bowl into a large plastic pitcher and quickly jogged over to the bathroom tub and placed it near the back of the tub. Back to the kitchen where she repeated the process with four more boxes of brownie batter. This time she left the goo in the giant mixing bowl and brought that, walking a bit more carefully, over to the tub, where she placed it immediately next to the pitcher.

Christina was now in a complete daze. Too much mental and physical stimulation. She had to find a way to get a hold of herself. From all the physical activity and emotional peaks and valleys, she was perspiring heavily again. Christina had allowed the bottom edge of her shorts to creep up her ass and crotch unabated for nearly an hour now, so that the bottom reinforced hem on each leg was nearly pressed up into her pussy.

She was desperately trying to get a hold over her emotions. On the one hand, she just wanted to empty everything into the tub and simply leap right in, but was ultimately determined to stick her original plan because she knew that would pay the greatest dividends to her in the long-run.

Christina took several deep breaths. She had been fence-sitting on taking the next step, but now realized she had absolutely no choice. She walked over to the kitchen cabinets, and opened one of the cabinet doors. Christina extracted from the cabinet one of the ridiculously huge plastic mugs Joe used when he wanted to have a 24-ounce beer while watching a sporting event in the den with his buds.

Next, Christina walked over to the refrigerator's freezer, the cool air causing her to regain some modicrum of self-control, and emptied an entire ice cube tray in the large mug. She then reached up to the cabinet where they stored the liquor, this time completely forcing the bottom edges of her shorts up her cunt, and pulled out the large bottle of Tanqueray gin stored there.

This time enough was enough. Christina put the bottle down on the counter top, reached in front of her body into her inner thighs and pulled down the bottom of her shorts. She repeated this step with the back of her shorts.

What Christina learned from this activity was that her fingers immediately learned how damp she had become down there. "Hmmm," thought Christina. "Some interesting possibilities here."

She slowly slid one dampened finger in her mouth and tasted the tartness of her pussy juices. Placing the other soaked finger on top of the spout on the bottle of gin, Christina gently touched the front tip of her finger with the smallest amount of liquor she could coordinate. And then this finger entered Christina's mouth. The taste of the gin pretty much overwhelmed the taste of Christina's juices, but not completely. Again, Christina could not resist her perverted sense of humor. She actually said aloud to herself, "Hmmm, I wonder how the local bar would name THAT type of martini? Vagini? Marpussy?"

"Will you cut this out and get down to business!" Christina thought silently to herself. Then she realized that there was something holding her back from rushing into the sploshing session she had planned. It had been too, too long since the last time she had done this. Was she subconsciously stretching the preparation time out for some reason even Christina herself couldn't understand?

These thoughts changed her focus. It was now or never. Christina quickly mixed a gigantic gin and tonic for herself and headed for the bathroom. She looked at what was there for her to enjoy. And again she stared at the mixing bowl of brownie batter, in an almost hypnotized state.

"Snap out of it, girlfriend," Christina thought to herself. She took a sip of her drink nearly in the manner of a toast. "To outrageous wamming and even more spectacular orgasms." And another longer sip.

It now dawned on Christina what was troubling her. What if this didn't turn out to be the night of sheerest ecstasy she had been dreaming about since Joe had told her 8 weeks ago they would be able to do this again and she began planning tonight's night of experimentation as her first chance to get filthy in so many years? What if she couldn't find it in her to cum?

And then the words, "Shit, girlfriend. Why the fuck are you doing this to yourself?" entered Christina's brain. "Just get the fuck in there, and get on with it." And she sipped her drink again.

The next step was not going to be as easy as Christina had originally planned. She had to negotiate entering the tub without tipping over the gigantic metal bowl filled with brownie batter or tipping over the pitcher containing the same substance. To do that, she had to hold onto the side of the glass shower door. But that might cause the bottles of syrup on top of the doors to fall. And that caused a fit of paranoia about possibly having one of the heavy bottles of chocolate sundae syrup striking Christina in the head and knocking her out. This was going to require a delicate series of movements. She placed the large mug of gin and tonic on the window sill just outside the shower stall.

Fortunately, Christina had retained more than enough of her youthful athleticism to execute the move without mishap. Her successful entry into the bathtub allowed her to reach out for her drink and place it down behind the pitcher and bowl of brownie batter. "Oops, wait a sec. One more sip." This one was long and slow.

Christina began to hyperventiate once again. This was the moment that she had waited for all these years. To be free to be as dirty as she'd like once again. She looked down at the hypnotic mass of chocolate brownie batter one more time. As much as it was calling to her to put her face down into it, Christina was determined to take the next step as she had always planned. She reached down to the solitary bottle of chocolate sundae syrup on the floor and removed it's outside cap.

Once again, her nostrils were filled with the deep, pungent aroma of the darkest of dark chocolate smells. Christina's knees were growing weak. She leaned against the long wall of the shower to support herself. She needed another taste of gin and tonic and reached down with her free left hand as if she was about to be executed and this was her final request. She took a long, slow gulp of booze and soda and returned it behind the brownie batter.

Christina next looked down into the bottle of syrup and noticed something about the chocolate that somehow had escaped her until know. It was a jellied mass of near solid chocolate. Had the company changed how it packaged its syrup? Didn't it use to be more liquidy? Was the cellar so cold it solidified the bottle's contents?

"Fuck it," thought Christina. "I'm at the point of fucking no return." She opened the top of the front of her shorts with her left hand. This was it, the moment she had waited for, had anticipated, had dreamed about, had fantasized about, had masturbated to what, about a thousand times, for more than four years. And she was just moments away from realizing the reality of the moment once again.

Christina tipped the open bottle slightly. Nothing flowed out. It was too fucking solid. So she squeezed the top of the bottle with the fingers of her right hand, pinching off the smallest dollop of chocolate.

It plopped on her body just over her pubic hair. And it stayed there. Christina watched. It wouldn't move. Was this to be it? Whether it was the booze or her brain on overload, Christina just wasn't thinking clearly anymore. "Hmmmm, let's see what happen if I let the shorts close against my skin," she thought.

Snap went the fabric. Nothing. The lump just stayed there. Christina's mind was all a-jumble. "Have I totally fucked this up?"

Slowly, sanity returned. Christina opened the front of her shorts again and squeezed a larger blob of the coagulated mass down her body. And again she allowed the elastic rim at the top of her shorts to snap shut.

This time, the desired effect had arrived. This quantity of goo was sufficient enough to begin to liquify against the warmth of Christina's body. She allowed this metamophosis to occur naturally and gradually. And eventually it worked its magic on Christina. Her legs were still a little too close together so that only her outer labia were first caressed by the oily substance as it began its journey down Christina's pussy. But the mere thought that the slime had reached the level of her clit forced Christina to impulsively arch her back and let out a deep and throaty moan.

This sensation was soon aided by the pressure Christian created by placing her left hand to the front of the shorts precisely where the blob had landed. It was not long before there was a change in the syrup's physical state. It was no longer solid but completely liquid.

And Christina quickly realized she had selected exactly the perfect bottoms for her first messy session in over 4 years. These shorts were precisely the type of fabric, the shape and size against her body that she needed for her to completely be overwhelmed by this entire experience.

The front of her shorts were rapidly becoming very oily and slippery. Christina's fingers were forcefully pushing the soaked fabric of her booty shorts as deep into her cunt as she could manage. But her shorts just weren't getting that dirty enough yet for Christina's liking. She immediately knew what she was required and squeezed off another thick clump of chocolate jell down her shorts.

It was THIS dumping that did the trick! The mass she just sent down the front of her shorts was fucking freezing and the perfect counterbalance against the fire that was quickly returning to Christina's cunt. And she adored this feeling. The fabric of the shorts was suddenly lumpy, uneven, yet very slippery all at once. The amount of the clump of syrup alone was enough to separate the area cloth that had just been shoved up Christina's pussy only moments ago by her hand. But that was what made her even more excited, that the violation of her cunt by the fabric had been replaced by the assault of the filthy, dirty chocoate. And that alone was pushing Christina closer, ever closer to the edge of her first messy orgasm in years.

It took a few moments, but the thick lump became liquid before long, and that conversion sent Christina even further along the brink of her cumming.

Christina immediately knew from her prior wam experiences what she needed next. She needed to get filthier. And quickly. She looked down and realize she was only halfway through the first bottle. That was going to be true no longer. Christina squeezed the bottle with all her might and violently forced the rest of its contents down the front of her shorts. She released the top elastic band of her shorts with a loud snap once again, which immediately sent her mind and body into another heightened level of delirium from all the goo she had just sent over her pussy. Christina exchanged the empty syrup bottle from her right hand to her left and tossed the empty bottle into the plastic garbage bag outside the tub.

Christina now used her right hand to forcefully open the top of her shorts and drove her left hand down into the muck. This sent her into heaven from so many directions. First, the feeling of her hand getting fully immersed in the greasy mess for the first time. Second, the feeling of her fingers probing her labia, rubbing her pussy lips, slipping inside her cunt.

Christina knew whatever pre-orgasmic composure in her was long gone, for both of her hands were down the front of her shorts, pulling alternatively and aggressively at her pussy. "Fuck," Christina head inside her head, "I need more chocolate, NOW!" She instinctively reached out with her left hand at one of the bottles balanced against the metal bar across the glass shower door. She expertly flipped off the top with one hand, not wanting to remove her right hand from inside her shorts where she was currently gently rubbing her labia with her fingers, and poured the entire contents of the bottle in one move down her exposed pussy.

Once again, the completely unexpected happened. This contents of this bottle was entirely in its proper liquid state. Thick and bulky to deal with perhaps, but definitely liquidy.

That was the final straw for Christina. The moment the top of her crotch realized she was back to being assaulted with the black tarry liquid again after all these years, coupled with the long-repressed memories of what it felt like to be an uninhibited splosher all those years ago, collectively exploded in Christina's brain. She could hold back no longer. Something deep, DEEP down inside Christina's very soul welled up and began to feel the need to climb up her entire body only to be expelled from her mouth. Her body began to heave, nay, convulse. It took every bit of muscle control not to collapse on the tub floor and upset the brownie batter and gin and tonic stored in the containers below.

Christina knew the moment had arrived, and there was absolutely nothing she could do now to stop it. Both hands went deep down into her shorts once again. She was no longer in control of her actions. Pure instinct was taking over. Her back arched sharply. The slime and filth in her crotch made her feel cheap, a slut, a whore, so unlike the professional woman in her daytime job. It was exactly the way she wanted to feel.

The index and middle fingers of her right hand were making circular movements over her inner labia in order to tease her cunt into thinking they would be entering at any moment. This created the sensation of aching, longing for the moment of penetration to arrive. Meanwhile, her left middle finger was lightly massaging her clit with that hand's index finger sliding over the protective hood. As her orgasmed neared, both hands began moving with greater speed and intensity.

The tension in Christina's body was building level by level. When would she finally reach the top of the curve? Then suddenly, there was this unearthly sound stirring within her. Animalistic. She began speaking as if she had turrets. Words without completion, without clear meaning. "Fuuuuuuu, mmmmmmiiiii, fuuuuuuuu, miiiiiiiii, ohhhhhh, gaaaa, shhhhhhhhhh." It was time.

Christina began plowing her cunt with two fingers. Then, three fingers. This was not a kind and gentle finger-fucking. Christina was raping herself. It was savage, completely over the top. She wanted to feel ever deep and driving thrust to its fullest. The insides of her cunt were on fire and Christina was demanding every ounce of sensory overload she could muster.

And finally, the moment she had longed for all these years had arrived.

There is simply no way to put clearly into words what happened next. The mind simply can't adequately catalog, simply can't fully understand, simply can't remember, simply can't describe all of what Christina was feeling and experiencing with sufficient precision, because the brain just can't possibly assimilate everything that was happening at once to her. Christina's body was shaking violently. Muscles clenched convulsively as if she were experiencing an epileptic fit. Her eyes were shut tight and the eyeballs probably had rolled full back into their sockets as if she were about to go unconsious.

Christina could not possibly estimate how long this orgasm transpired. It seemed as if forever. And then she finally crossed over the crest of the wave. Her chest heaved violently as she desperately tried to recapture her breath. Her legs, no longer capable of withstanding the weight, not just of her body but also of the moment, slowly collapsed to the floor of the tub as the right side of her body frictioning against the long wall of the shower slowed her downward progress to the bottom of the bathtub.

She felt used, dirty, violated. And she had 27 bottles of syrup and 8 gigantic boxes of thick chocolate brownie batter to go.

Her breathing was still labored. And it stayed that way much longer than it should for someone simply recovering her breath. For Christina began to sob. Softly at first. And then deeper sobs. And then the sobs that come from some unknown depths within. It was joy, it was an ultimate release, it was confusion over what it was that made her be like this.

And this was just the first orgasm of several more that would come that night. And of the dozens more that would come in the days ahead. Pretty fucking unbelievable was all Christina could conceptualize at that moment.

Part IV

(Hi everyone! It's Christina editing ahead of the story again after I completed it. Originally I was just going to tell the story without an intro, but then reading it the next morning I thought I didn't do the description of the orgasm I experienced during this portion of my adventure three nights ago... shit, it's already been three nights ago?... adequate justice. So if any of you read the original story, I've elaborated the details of my orgasm more in this edited version.

Hope you all are enjoying this. And just to let you all know, I LOVE it when you comment about it. Even if you want to tell me you don't like the emotional parts or you don't like how much time I spend setting up the climax... tee hee... couldn't help myself there... of each orgasm. I am a total tease to my hubby in real life... partly because I could NEVER act that way around work... so I love to be a tease in my real wam life and even my fantasy life as well. Near the end of this Part, I actually introduce you into one of my more wicked wam fantasies. And while it appears I will soon re-enter a wam life with my hubby... 5 or 6 nights from today... depending on when I can convince him to begin... I know the wam fantasy at the end of this Part is one I can never really live out. But I certainly can dream about it! Can't I? Enjoy!)

Christina was incapable of moving for who knew how many minutes. Sitting on her knees, her body numbed by the overloading flood of physical and emotion energy she had just expended, Christina appeared almost catatonic.

As the final shock waves of the thunderous orgasm she had just experienced finally left her body with a tight little shudder, Christina began returning to her senses. She still looked somewhat intoxicated, far more intoxicated than the relatively small quantity of alcohol she had already consumed.

"Hmmmm, alcohol," Christina though to herself. She reached over the still full pitcher and large mixing bowl of brownie batter and grabbed for her Tanqueray and tonic. She took a very long and very slow sip, hoping somehow that getting just a little tipsier would snap her out of the doldrums.

Christina took a brief look down and smiled at the large dark brown stain spread across the front of her shorts. Little rivlets of syrup slid out of her shorts sideways across her thighs and dripped down the side of her calves. She was slowly coming out of her stupor.

Christina felt as though she was beginning to understand a little of what it was she just experienced. It was a combination of many factors. Unquestionably, the years it had been since her last messy orgasm was a large part of the reason for such an explosive orgasm. But it also occurred to Christina that the enormous buildup of the last eight weeks of preparation for this night and the days of sploshing with her husband that would take a little more than a week from now had also led to this tremendous escalation of tension and anticipation.

Their sex had been getting more and more intense in the weeks since her birthday. Christina was certain she was more the cause of this than her hubby, because she was fantasizing more and more with each passing week what it would feel like when the day when she would actually get to have messy sex again finally arrived.

All this pressure, all this anticipation, all this tension had piled itself, layer by layer, upon her emotional self. So that when she finally got to experience once again this journey into her dark and dirty side after so many years and after so much of the recent and intense preparation, all the welled up emotions and tensions exploded open like a huge dam breaking apart with the resulting flood from the enormous lake of water that had been held back by the dam

“Enough with all this emotional crap,” Christina asserted aloud. “It’s time to get truly filthy.” She felt as if she were back to her old mischievous self. She became once again the young girl who couldn’t wait to cover herself in the thickest, dirtiest mess she could find, spreading it into her clothing and bodily crevices and onto her sensitive body parts for her extended sexual pleasure.

Christina struggled slightly to stand up. She had been sitting on her knees and legs for many minutes now, and her joints had stiffened a little. And as she rose, the syrup that had remained mostly trapped inside her shorts had completely liquified, having pressed against her steaming crotch for some time now. This caused the mass of viscous syrup to move quite freely inside her shorts, adding a new sensation to the list of pleasurable experiences she had already encountered this evening.

Once finally standing straight, it was time to get REALLY dirty. Christina grabbed a syrup bottle sitting on the soap dish and removed the cap. The contents of this bottle was as solid as the first one she had poured down her shorts. She opened up the front of her shorts and plopped a large clump of jelled sundae syrup onto her crotch.

Christina allowed the shorts to close again and she lightly pushed the newly added wad of goo into her vaginal region. The delay in starting up again meant that she could feel two very distinct sensations with respect to the syrup. There was the fully liquified chocolate that had still clung to her body inside her shorts for all these several minutes, but was now contrasted by the much colder and bulkier mass that had just entered the area.

Since the newly-added chocolate was no longer hitting bare skin but its very slippery counterpart that had preceded it, the more solid syrup immediately slid down to the very bottom part of Christina’s shorts and sat there like a huge lump.

Christina simply couldn’t resist the temptation. She moved her free hand directly under the outside of her crotch. With one rapid move, she smushed the glob of solidified syrup directly and viciously deep into her cunt.

“Oh, motherfucker! That feels so fucking good!” she cried out to no one in particular. Christina had a weakness for wanting to swear a lot, especially using the f word at times like this. Just one more way that she could distance herself from the proper and formal way she had to act during her life in the “outside” professional world. She could never use that language in the office.

And now a regular progression into the depths of Christina’s self-abuse began. The bottles would be opened at a more constant pace and rubbed fiercely into her shorts.

For the first several bottles, they would only be poured down the front of her shorts because Christina knew from past experiences exactly how this would go.

As more and more syrup entered her shorts, the reinforced hem at the bottom of each of the short’s legs would cause most of the goo to remain in her shorts. Having nowhere else to go, the ever welling up substance had to find somewhere to spread, and it slowly crept around to the sides of Christina’s hips, still staying predominantly inside her shorts.

But despite Christina’s brilliant stroke of genius in choosing these particular booty shorts for her first wamming session, not all of the sauce remained trapped there. Very gradually, little streams of very thick chocolate would drip down her exposed thighs, reach the elastic band of her stockings and then very slowly trickle down her beige stockings.

The sight of this gradual transition from clean and nearly white stockings to black, naughty, filthy, gooey appendages had precisely the effect on Christina that she had never forgotten from her prior wamming sessions with this type of syrup. The sight of her slowly being consumed by the chocolate and being turned into one entirely covered little slut was beginning to work its magic again on her brain. She was quickly building into her second orgasm of the night.

There was just something about the way her formerly dry, clean, tight, clinging white booty shorts were transforming into this slick, nasty, dirty piece of clothing still absolutely plastered to her crotch and ass, and the sight of her once pristine stockings drastically changing color in front of her, all that worked wonders on Christina's very twisted and demented libido.

And the building volume of syrup in her shorts forced what was collecting there to start to circle her entire her body, extending all the way around to her butt. Christina abandoned adding any more new syrup but chose to simply rub the chocolate that was already stuck there into the parts of her body encased in the too tight shorts with both hands now, until one finally rested inside the front of her shorts rubbing her clit and the other forcibly rubbing her ass.

Now a good dozen or so bottles of syrup into the evening’s wamming session and her second orgasm was only moments away. Never as strong as the first, a task even more unlikely to happen this night due to the sheer magnitude of her long-awaited first sploshing orgasm in more than four years, and yet there were no bad orgasms on a night like this. Even her worst cum tonight would be infinitely superior to any outside of her sploshing world.

Christina even allowed her mind to slip into a second level of perversion at this moment. She started to imagine she was doing this on the stage of a strip club in front of a wildly cheering crowd of rowdy, sleezy men. Again a departure from her staid, conservative real life.

And that was all it took. Unlike her first orgasm of only a few minutes ago, this orgasm didn’t take too long to build to its ultimate crescendo. Christina’s second orgasm shortly after the first was always an excellent one, even without the mess. There was something about her muscles spasming and convulsing so soon after the first that made the second one feel so good. It was like she never really had a chance to recover fully from the first.

And doing it in this dirty environment meant her second cumming was beginning to hit her even harder. Christina let her mind believe she cumming in front of a roomful of scummy men and she was the dirty slut that was getting each and every one of their cocks ready to explode.

And Christina instinctively knew that each and every one of them wanted to fuck her at this moment. She couldn't let them, of course, because she could get arrested for doing THAT! But that didn't stop her from letting them all see what penetrating her would be like.

She pulled her right hand out of her shorts and slid her booty shorts down below her crotch. A nearly impossible trick to normally accomplish with one hand if her shorts were still clean due to how tight they were, but the presence of the slippery syrup made it simple to accomplish.

Imagining allowing an entire room of horny guys watching her drive three fingers hard into her slimy pussy was the last encouragement Christina needed to reach her second orgasm of the evening. While her first orgasm lasted forever and drove her through an extended range of emotions, this one was different. It was a nasty, deep, simply down and dirty orgasm. And a very satisfying one at that. The previous one built forever and felt like she was surfing over a very long ocean wave until she reached its peak and then came crashing down. This orgasm hit her hard and fast. A nice, deep, dirty and very violent cum.

Christina rocked forward hard once, held her position as her body began spasming, until the most intense moment of the orgasm struck. She snapped back and her voice seemed to leap in octives. "Oh shiiiiiiiitttttttttt." One long obscenity, and then several more in a high pitched scream, one after another. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit." Maybe 10 in a row as her body completely stiffened and her vaginal muscles repeatedly grabbed and relaxed around her fingers.

As Christina was beginning to be able to regain her composure a little from this orgasm, she quite enthusiastically said out loud to herself, "Mmmmm, I really enjoyed that one. That was hard and nasty." Rather than feel completed depleted of energy, like she was after the first, she felt energized and ready to take on even more filth and more fun. One thing that was so good about have such an unusual and unexpected first orgasm was that she had just experienced two very completely different ones. And although this second orgasm was immensely enjoyable, she needed to get back to some longer ones again.

Of course, she had completely no control as to what type of orgasm sploshing caused her to experience, other than the fact that they were probably a million times better than any other orgasm she experienced outside of her wamming world. What all this meant, however, was that Christina needed several more orgasms to come in this wamming session to truly complete her evening.

bravo!

Awww, thanks Anthony! I'm glad you liked it. I might to decide to fix the ending though. From what I do at work I always know it's good to "put aside" something you write and then read it again a few hours later so you get a fresh look at it. Reading Part IV in its entirety this morning, I don't think I really did that second orgasm justice. I mean, I certainly acknowledged how much I loved it and all, but it sounds like I just couldn't wait to get it over with the way it's written. It reads as if it lasted much shorter than it really did. Yes, it certainly WAS much shorter compared to the first one, which was a monsterous cum. But this second one was quite all right as well. I may re-write that section just a little.

i absolutly love the way you convay the depraved, filthy, all consuming feeling of total degradation, of not just being filthy, but of becoming filth itself, a feeling so basic to a perfect splosh-gasm and so hard to explain to anyone not "of the mind"..............................rob

Loving the reliving, what a dirty little chocolate covered slut