So, how did I become a pervert?
It all started in the tube, or as we call it on this side of the pond, the subway. We were living in England, as my father was stationed there from 1968-1972. I must have been around 8-9 yrs old. My family was taking the tube into London for some reason, maybe a dentist appointment. I remember sitting in my side of the car and looking at an elderly gentleman of maybe 50 yrs old, remembering I'm only 8, so 50 was old. He was dressed as a typical English gentleman would have been dressed back then, dress pants, shirt, trousers, tweed jacket and a tie. Nothing unusual here right but he was was wide as he was tall. His waist size must have been 55"-60". And for some reason, I could only imagine his trousers were filled with some substance, maybe mud, bens, porridge, etc. I don't know why that imagine came into my head, but it did.
And from that moment, I wondered what it would feel like to have my pants filled with something. I figured it should be something thick and slightly sticky, and of course, it would have to be warm.
The thought stayed in my head as I grew up, and in my family, sex was never discussed. So I learned the birds and the bees story from the most reputable source I knew of, the school gym locker room. I heard other guys talking, and was able to piece it together but no one ever mentioned about the mud, or the oatmeal, etc. I didn't get "the talk" from my parents until my father saw me coming home one morning at 5:30 am, and asked me why, and I told him my girlfriend wanted me to have sex with her. I didn't that night, but did soon afterwards, I'm not stupid, just a little slow. Soon, I was allowed to suck jello off of certain places of her body. And although it wasn't her thing, she let me rub oatmeal on her body while in the shower. And speaking of oatmeal, I remember one night after I moved out and lived by myself, I mixed up some warm oatmeal, put down a sheet of plastic on the foot of the bed, and poured the thick oatmeal on it, and fucked the oatmeal to a full and satisfying orgasm.
I have never had a partner who enjoyed WAM as I did, but they would from time to time, allow me to fulfill a need to get it out of my system. And of course, when alone, I would get down and dirty, and tug it like a demented circus monkey.
My first experience with mud was sometime in the early 90s. My wife had gone somewhere for a few days, and I was living in central Illinois. There were miles and miles and miles of corn fields near the house. It was in a very rural area, and it had rained very heavily one night. While driving home from work, I noticed all the glorious mud in the fields and made my plans for that night. I drove my car, pulled it over to the side of the road, put on the flashers, then walked about 50 ft into the field. I played, rolled and just generally had one hell of a good time. Then I put towels over the seat and drove home and cleaned up.
I've had a few other outdoor mud trips, but that is for another time.
I found myself retired at age 50. My company said I was too much of a fall risk after my neck fusion surgery, and sent me home with a full pension. So now what do I do. Like any other normal person, I took up wood working. Duh, what did you expect.
But I digress. I built my own home myself in 2005-06. I build a 50' geodesic dome on the side of a ridge
here in lovely TN. I had a contractor put in a long driveway and dig out a chunk of the ridge and spread it out to give me space to build on. While digging my footer and drilling 4' holes in the dirt, I found it all was natural clay, very sticky and gooey when wet. I put that into a folder in the back of my mind. Fast forward several years, and I was given 3 trees in 5 gallon buckets. I put them by my garage and forgot about them. A yr later, I try to dig them up, and the roots had grown through the bottom on the buckets. I tried to dig them out, but it was a no go. Then it hit meit's clay. I got out my pressure washer, put on the zero degree needle point nozzle in the sprayer and I was able to cut them out quite easily. I was left with a sticky hole with wet clay. I then used the same technique to "dig" 3 holes to plant the trees. As I was cutting the holes, I noticed how the sprayer just sliced through the clay like a lazer beam. It made short work of the clay.
Fast forward a few months, and I find myself alone in the hot summer. I see the heat pump is really kicking out a lot of water into the back area of the small yard, about 10-15 feet between the house and the sloping clay wall of the upper side of the ridge. So I bring out the pressure washer and start to experiment with it. I end up cutting out an area maybe 3 ft by 3 ft and a foot or two deep for the water to drain into. During the summer I enlarge the pit until it reaches about 6-7 feet long, about 5 ft wide, and about 5 ft deep with the pressure washer. And as I said, it cut through the clay like a lazer, and one time also through my left ring finger the same way. It happened on a Monday and I had to have emergency surgery on Friday as my finger was rotting from the damage. But that too is another story.
All this time my ex wife thought I was just making a hole for the AC to drain into, and then I said it was for the frogs also to keep up a healthy ecosystem. That summer I was wallowing like a little piggie almost every day. My ex never did know. She was one to never go outdoors, keeping to the AC as much as possible in the summer. That summer was around 12-13 yrs ago and my mud pit is still here. I did remarry 6 yrs ago, and I have used my beloved mud pit less and less. The heavier material has sunk to the bottom and clings to the sides and hardens. I have tried to fully "clean" it out a few times. The latest was about 3 weeks ago while my wife was away. She knows about it, and has seen me in it through a window one night. She didn't approve, but couldn't really say much as I wasn't really doing anything wrongjust not normal behavior.
So 3 weeks ago or so, I emptied out about 250-300 gallons of mud by hand, about 2 feet or so. I could not reach the bottom without my head going under if I didn't empty it out some. I then was able to get the bottom and sides scrapped off and stirred up. One thing that helped out was I took an old pair of shoes, and drilled about 15 drywall screws into each of them, with the screw threads sticking out of the soles, making a very dangerous pair of cleats. I've used this technique before years ago to scrape the clay loose when making the pit. So I have returned my precious beautiful mud pit to somewhat of her previous glory days . I spent the first night of her triumphant return just wallowing deep, doing head dunks, and submerging until just my eyes, nose, and mouth were sticking out and watching the stars all night.
But I'm getting too old now. I'm somewhat physically disabled. I have 3 discs removed from my neck and had my neck fused together. I have an artificial knee and hip, and need the others replaced. I've got a lot of orthopedic problems going on. It almost exhausted me cleaning it out, and I had a hell of a time just trying to get out. With all of that clay sticking to me, it added another 30 lbs, and I almost couldn't get out of the super slick hole. I ended up putting a ladder in to aid in climbing out, but that was very difficult climbing on. Plus all the clean upask any mud video producer it's a big job taking care of a mud pit.
So, this may be the last year of my beloved pit.
But so far, she has raised countless tadpoles into frogs. I've had a few salamanders, and even one yr a snapping turtle stopped by for a rest before he carried on his journey.
I forgot to mention before I plan a mud adventure, the first thing I do is catch all the tadpoles and put then into a bucket fort safe keeping, then return them back after all the clean up is done. I have a 18' above ground pool about 6' from the pit, and enjoy watching them swim around and feed, watching them grow their legs, and turn into frogs before my very eyes. I even feed them to help them grow.
So to answer the question how did I become a pervertshit just happens!