This is the story of how my uncle Bob, the Irish owner of O'Grapher's Pub in Dublin, Ireland, first discovered wam.

It was an ad he had answered in the local paper, as he was looking for some fun and had some money to burn. She said she was a beautiful red-head and was for hire, but also she loved a 'little extra' that she'd explain once they met.

So they met at his pub, and the way she looked got him all excited.

They took a cab to her nearby flat and she let him in. But the strange thing was that instead of just a bed, she had a room set up with inflatable air mattresses and plastic over the walls. She then showed Bob to a special closet with shelves filled with buckets of various substances, and a number of empty ones. Each had a price tag on it. Weird. Bob was confused until she explained more.

She loved to lay on the air mattress and have the customer dump a bucket over her. The thrill for her was in never knowing if it was full or empty, or what was actually in it.

So Bob opened his wallet and left the right amount of money in the jar at the closet, bringing a number of pails back to the room.

And there she was, laying on an air mattress wearing a little tube top with 'Splatter Me' on it, but badly spelled.

Bob decided to pick up the empty buckets first, and he'd pretend to throw the contents all over his red-head, but of course, nothing would come out. She would jump - and then smile, half-expecting a pail of water, or ice, or worse. It was a fun game. It got them both turned on.

Now the only buckets that were left actually had stuff in them. Some looked like whipped cream, others like caramel or honey, or chocolate sauce. Bob didn't yet understand why she'd want these thrown all over her, but she had said it turned her on and would make for a wild time, so he picked up the first bucket, threw it all over her, and went for the next until they were all gone. Each time, she'd let out a little scream, followed by moans of pleasure and a look that was hard for Bob to resist.

Each time Bob would go for another bucket, he'd notice the pleasure on her face, and how she'd slowly move in the mess, and slide her hands in it.

Then she removed her top and just lay in the mess and begged Bob to pleasure her. This was new to Bob, but he dropped his robe and joined her on the mattress. It was the wildest sex he had ever had, and the experience changed him forever.

Every time they'd finish, she'd smear another substance all over herself and beg for more. The poor guy couldn't resist.

They were finally both spent, totally exhausted. He took one more look at her, as she lay yawning and covered in honey mixed with caramel. But he just didn't have any more strength. She yawned. It was over.

And that is the story of how my uncle Bob told me about wam.

What was that address in Dublin?


Excellent work!

Hey, thanks, much appreciated!

O'Grapher's Pub was at 847 Main St., Blackrock, Co, Dublin, Ireland so head over and see if Meg is still advertising. My uncle said he could never find her again and he wanted to marry her. Her flat was taken over by an elderly couple who didn't know where Meg had gone, but kept asking why there were so many buckets in the pantry.

End of story. Not true, of course, but it's a story.

By the way, I'm a photographer named Bob, so that's why I'm Bobographer. It has nothing to do with being Irish.