This may be the last of them for a while - I have a new girlfriend who is really into wetlook, mud, WAMMING, and wild sex. Time to create new memories instead about writing about the old ones.....


Brattleboro Fair some months later

Fall faded into winter and our outdoor activities ended, but the wetlook fun didn't. Our public play was limited to a couple of instances, a crazy weekend at Cape Cod and a ski trip to Stratton where everybody ended up in the pool. Other than that, it was exclusively at home, mostly in the hot tub. Sue had kept in touch with Cindy and we had met up a few times with her and the rest of her family, and even went snowmobiling with them one weekend. But it was all tame, and mostly dry, except for a little melted snow or a splash here and there.

The weather warmed up and the Fair Season started. There's some type of event almost every weekend in Vermont, year 'round, and we spent a lot of time there. We planned to go up and Sue let Cindy know. Okay, we'll be there come hook up with us was her reply.

We weren't there long, and as we negotiated the crowd, who should we meet but a more than slightly damp Marie getting a cup of coffee from one of the vendors. One down, three to go said Marie, telling us about her standing in a log rolling contest. How come you're wet? I asked, If you won? Her reply was pretty simple I was the second one to go in, not the first. Come watch!

We followed her over to a makeshift pond with logs floating in it. It's kind of cold still, but I'm dressed for it she said. Pretty much so were all of the other competitors as well. We hung around and watched a couple contests until it was her turn again. Up she went to the dock, the judge introduced her to her challenger, a tall and kind of stocky brunette with short hair. Just like Marie, she was decked out like a lumberjack in the boots, tight jeans, turtleneck sweater, wool shirt, and a toque. Both walked gingerly out onto the log and at the whistle started rolling it. They were both good, and a couple times Marie almost lost it. The announcer let us know the other girl was Becky and both these chicks were hardcore competitors. That became obvious after a minute or two, they had gone way longer than the ones we had watched up to that time. Becky had Marie on a run on the log and it looked like she was going in. Suddenly Marie lifted both feet and stomped down on the log, stopping the roll completely and hurling Becky into the water. Marie stood on the stalled log, heaving trying to breathe, and raised her clamped together fists upward as everyone cheered. Then she jumped off the log into the water, shook Beckys' hand, and gave her a good dunking. They both climbed out dripping wet, toweled off their hair and faces, and sloshed over to us smiling. We were introduced and off we went for a coffee.

We grabbed a hot coffee and started walking, led by Marie. We poked around and looked at the displays, grabbed some fair food, and stopped to socialize with some of the locals that the girls knew. Unique to Vermont, or perhaps farming communities everywhere, either Becky or Marie knew most of the family farmers there.

At one point, Marie checked her watch and left us and went back to roll another log. She caught up with us, obviously soaked again about twenty minutes later and exclaimed Another one down!. Becky gave her a high five and a hug, and said, I must be up soon, see ya shortly and took off.

We made it to the back of the attractions, near the barns, and checked out the livestock. Near the end of the row were the pigs, and behind that, the mud pit. A small crowd had gathered around the pit, but Marie mentioned that it wasn't time yet. The mud looked good and soupy, and there was a tractor with a backhoe near by. We walked through the crowd and eventually ran into Cindy and her mother. They were set up in a booth, registering people for the pig wrestling, and handing out numbered t-shirts. Cindy was wearing number 1, and apparently ready to go. Hey pig-girl, you don't wear white until after Memorial Day Marie said to her, commenting on her white jeans. All part of the show replied Cindy with a smile. Cindy was dressed more like she was going out than getting ready to play in the mud. Tight white jeans tucked into her logger boots, a black ribbed turtleneck sweater under a black and white checked cotton shirt, and a cute pink baseball hat. I bought them at Goodwill for four bucks, so if they don't bleach out, who cares? She commented about her jeans.

As we hung around and chatted, Becky showed back up and told Marie We're up in ten minutes we're the womens' finalists. So we all hurried back to the pond. The girls did it up good, and made it look like a rivalry of enemies as the crowd cheered. Eventually Marie dumped Becky off the log using the same trick as before, and jumped in and gave her another dunking. Wrapped in towels, they rejoined us and we headed back to the mud pit. Dorothy was still at the booth, but the t-shirt pile had shrunk, and there were at least a dozen people in line. Just as Cindy went back to helping her mother, we heard tractors close by. In came a couple of bucket loaders with their buckets full of what could not be mistaken they had just scraped out the livestock barns. They pulled up and dumped it into the mud pit. Oh joy muttered Cindy under her breath-more shit. As the tractors pulled away, a man climbed up in the backhoe and began to mix the muck again. Twice he dismounted and added more water from a fire hose that was there for that purpose, until it was a soupy mess again. Cindy laughed though and said Dumping the manure in there keeps out the amateurs. Only real farmers don't care!

There were about fifty contestants hanging around now, everyone from little kids to adults sporting their numbered t-shirts over their clothes, and the crowd was fairly decent sized. The game is a 50/50 split, half the donations and entry fees split among the top three winners, and the other half goes to the local 4H program. There is even open betting allowed as to who will be the winner in a pick-four contest. The object of the game for the contestants is to grab as many piglets and small pigs as possible and hand them off to the judges. The pigs are all numbered, and there is one, usually a bigger one, that's a bonus prize of a hundred dollars.

Dorothy announced Last call to get a shirt and register, and Cindy tried to get Marie to play. No way am I rolling around in shit said Marie.

Next thing we heard was get to your positions, and the entire t-shirt crowd gathered near a gate where a man called the starter held them back. Opposite the gate was another larger one in the fence surrounding the mudpit. Pickup trucks started to back up around the gate, and one at a time, discharged their cargoes of porkers into the pen. Piglets, medium sized pigs, and one around 90 lbs. All heading in, lured by a man dumping bushel baskets of day old bread and pastries inside the pen. Looks like fun I said to Sue, and was met with a glare from her. Becky, standing right next to Sue, tried as well nothing. Then she said Screw it, I'm in took off her wool shirt, handed it to Marie, and grabbed one of the last t-shirts from Dorothy.

Ready, set, go! came the announcement, and a squealing mob charged through the gate into the mud, most getting stuck almost immediately. Some hugged the fence line to stay dry and try and grab a pig, but the pigs didn't hang around either, into the mud they went as well. The rest defies further description other than to say that not a single contestant left the pit without being fully covered, head to toe, in the ooze. By the time it was over Cindy had won a hundred bucks for grabbing the biggest pig first. She and Becky were unrecognizable when they came to us, and they stunk of the manure. Quick fix and then we get really clean said Becky, and both sloshed off to where the fire department had set up to hose off the competitors.

Shortly, they were back, and Marie said beer is cold, which apparently was the command for everyone to head to her truck, jump in back, and grab one. As she started the engine, we were going to leave, but all we heard was Party's at the river, stay in and off we went to the river and the boat launch. Seems like everyone had the same idea, because it appeared all of the contestants were there, as were many other people. Becky was out first and into the river, followed closely by Cindy..and a dozen others, all fully dressed and trying to rinse away the afternoons' fun. Others went in too, even though they were mud free and dry.. Marie upended her beer and said Let's go!, looking at Sue and I. We just shrugged and I put my wallet and cell phone in her truck, and Sue did the same. At this point, what was the use? There was no reluctance like before. Jeans, work boots, sweaters and jean jackets, in we went. Marie had stripped off her woolen shirt, but other than that, was fully dressed as well. We moved over to Cindy and Becky who were both still trying to rinse the mud out of their sweaters. About time said Cindy. We all just laughed as we bobbed around. Becky decided to make a run to the truck and came back with more beers for us all, so we drank up, splashed each other, and bobbed around, visiting with some of the others who were doing the same.

Beers gone, we gathered up the bottles and waded out. Becky and I went to put the bottles back in the truck, and headed over to join the others dripping off on the grass.
Just as we got close, I caught a glimpse of Sue and Cindy walking upstream past Dorothy, and Dorothy shaking her head. I guess my what the fuck? was louder than I planned, and when Marie heard me and asked what was up. I pointed to them and told her my wife was heading away. Piss or mud was her reply. What? I asked her. They're either going to take a piss or play in the mud she said, although I doubt they'd get out of the water to piss. I just did, and I bet you have too. I let that comment pass and headed to Dorothy, one look from her and all she said was mud. I sloshed over in the direction I saw them heading and found them both, up to their knees in the slop. And you doing what? I asked. Cindy told me about it Sue said, She likes to play in the mud, and she wrestles pigs, she said she noticed that little kids were playing here earlier and they probably made it real soupy. So I asked, how is it? Soupy we just stepped in it and went over our knees, we were trying to figure out how to get out without getting covered since it's almost time to go home . I just wanted to see it, not play in it she said.

No pig to wrestle came loud and clear over my shoulder. Hi Marie said Cindy, Hello to you too mud queen answered Marie. What did you and your friend do to yourselves now? Aw, we were just checking it out and sort of slipped in said Cindy. We didn't want to get all muddy again just before we left. Cindy, I know you said Marie You just wanted to get all muddy again and you didn't want to come here alone. BUSTED! Shouted Cindy. I should have known when I saw the look on Dorothy or caught the tone of her remarks. Sue said I'm about done for the day, I'm cold and I'm ready to go. Marie said, Okay honey, I'll help pull you out and we can leave Cindy here to wallow Marie took off her woolen shirt and passed it over to Sue, who by now was thigh deep in the muck. Grab hold blondie and I'll pull you out. Cindy pushed, Marie pulled, and Sue fell back on her ass in the mud, watching it quickly rise over her thighs. Soupy stuff said Marie. She looked at me and said Give me a hand. She put one foot on the edge of the mud pit and reached for Sue until they locked hands. Sue was using her other hand to push mud off her thighs, and Cindy was now sitting next to her, pushing mud onto hers. I took Maries' other hand with both of mine and told her I was ready. She laughed and asked Sue if she was ready. Sue laughed and said Go for it. With that, Marie dropped Sue's hand, whirled around while I still had both of mine on hers, grabbed my arm as tight as she could, and stepped off into the mudpit with me closely trailing.

We both hit the mud standing up, and immediately sunk to our waists. I suddenly realized why Sue and Cindy were sitting on their butts, so as not to let on just how soupy and deep it was.. By the time I got my balance, Sue and Cindy were roaring with laughter and Marie and I were facing each other. I said thanks and she replied Don't mention it you'll live! We both tried to move out of our holes and toward the other 2, but in 2 steps we had gone from waist deep to our armpits. Like this Marie said, as she rolled onto her back on top of the mud, then flipped over onto her stomach and crawled to the other girls. She was completely covered except for her face, her armpits, and the neck of her sweater. I followed her lead and was soon sitting next to my wife. You're filthy she said with a smile. Sitting there she had already sunken almost to her armpits so I simply pushed her backwards until only her face was clean. Cindy and Marie laughed as they sat there pulling mud onto their thighs. They both laid back in the mud and Cindy said she wished it was wetter. Marie looked to the other end of the pool and said that there was water on top. Off she crawled on her belly, followed by Cindy. The closer they got, the faster they sank, until they stopped. Perfect! said Cindy. They both sat up, stretched out their arms, and sank to their chins. Sue and I followed them and found our own spots alongside. The mud and water was still warm from the afternoon and we enjoyed the feeling.

What the fuck! was the next thing we heard from the far side of the pool. Becky was standing there, still obviously wet, with a towel around her neck. Marie, I thought this was going to be a quick trip and we were heading home?. Marie just laughed and said, We will, get in here, it's warm. Becky replied, I don't really want to get all nasty now, let's go! Marie looked at us, and in a mocking tone loudly said Yup, the girl who has no problem swimming around in that yucky stew that we log roll in and thinks nothing of pissing in her pants all day long because we're already wet is afraid of some mud! Go figure!

Screw you Marie! Becky shouted, and with that, she walked over closer to where we were, dropped her towel, and pulled off her wool shirt. Then she smiled at us, just standing there, until we suddenly saw she was peeing in her jeans. Got to warm up she said, and with that, jumped in feet first, landing next to Marie. She sank right up to her armpits in the soupy ooze, not realizing just what she had jumped into. After a bit of rolling around and a tug from Marie, she was on her back near us and completely covered.


When we all decided to leave, Marie had to make sure that not an inch of us was clean, throwing and smearing us with mud until she was satisfied. For her encore she did a dive back into the mud and a 360 roll over. She exited with a bow, and we jogged back to the boat ramp as quickly as we could. Most of the people were out of the water and drying off, but in we went, leaving a muddy cloud around us. We shook and twisted clothes, swam and splashed until we thought we had most of the mud out. When we came out Dorothy was there with a stack of towels waiting for us. She kinda laughed and poked fun at 30 something yr. old adults playing in the mud, but she let us dry off good, we even shed a layer and wrung it out. Marie didn't take the towel at first, instead she disappeared into the parking area and came back minutes later. In her hand she had a bottle of shampoo and she just walked right into the river up to her chest and lathered up her hair, dunked under to rinse, repeated, and came out. She passed the bottle around and the other girls did the same, leaving a foamy circle on the water.

Marie thanked Dorothy for a towel, dried her hair, rubbed down her sweater and jeans, and left, telling us she was going home to a hot shower with her clothes on. Becky was right behind her said Me too, see ya! and off they went.

Dorothy invited us to the farm to get cleaned up. We hit Dunkin Donuts for a couple hot coffees and headed over. The girl at the drive thru window got an eyeful when we pulled up wrapped in towels, still fully dressed, with the heater cranked up, she took one look and said Having fun today? As much as we can with our clothes on I replied, and she and Sue both broke out in hysterics.

It only took about 15 minutes to get to the farm, and when we arrived Cindy was waiting. She led us around the back of the house where there was an outside shower with several heads on it and wooden pallets to stand on. This is how farm girls get clean she said, or cool off in the summer. She had already stacked towels and there were bottles of shampoo and soap nearby. She turned on the water and it was like a flood and plenty hot from the wood fired boiler. Sue had to pee, and actually so had I, but she said something to Cindy about it. Just like at the river was all I heard, then Watch . Cindy visibly flooded her jeans right there in front of us. Do you think we strip these wet things down during the day?' she said. Never get them back on! OK said Sue, and she spread her feet apart and smiled and let go. At this point, I was straining to hold it so I did the same. I thought it was interesting, to say the least.

With plenty of room for the three of us, we all got underneath and took a fully clothed shower, complete with soap and shampoo, while stripping off each layer, rinsing it under the water, and then throwing in into a wheelbarrow nearby. None of us had a problem with getting completely undressed to wash off, and nobody gawked or commented. We just got clean, dried off, and changed into clean clothes.

Cindy took everything we were wearing and threw it into the washer on a fast cycle and we went in to visit. While Dorothy fed us all, Cindy put the clothes in the dryer, and we talked about the day. Joked and laughed about it more accurately. Apparently, this was more or less normal with this crowd. Unlike the flatlanders and the transplants, they didn't freak out over getting wet, dirty, or muddy in the right clothes. Good clothes were for church, work, school, etc., but work clothes were for work, or play, and getting dirty was part of life, including competing in pig wrestling, and riding ATV's. Almost all of Cindys' mud clothes came from second-hand stores she told us, so she had no problem getting them wet or muddy. Marie, Becky, and all the rest did the same thing. What may have once been expensive jeans or sweaters were bought for pennies on the dollar, and they constantly were on the lookout for costume items for the fairs and competitions they were in.

Cindy left to get our clothes from the dryer so we could head home. When she came back with them, instead of the sweats she had been wearing, she was dressed in white. She had on a pair of tight white jeans, and a thick white turtleneck sweater over a thin ribbed powder blue one. My new mudding outfit she said, and Dorothy rolled her eyes. Nine bucks at Goodwill, and she proceeded to show us the bicycle grease chain mark on the lower leg of the jeans, what appeared to be a coffee stain on the white sweater, and a couple of bleach stains on the powder blue one. Hardly noticeable, but she looked good anyway.

I'll save it until the next time you guys come up she smiled, if you're still into it. Sue and I answered in unison, We'll see you sooner than you think! and we laughed, said our good byes, and headed home.