|
|
|||
| forums: groups: | |||
|
"What drives your WAM interest?"
Love you, too
For dresses- I think there's just something hot about seeing "nice" clothing get messy and for maxi dresses and evening gowns it's seeing someone get messy enough that a floor length dress gets fully covered.
I love the combination of being submissive, knowing I'm getting lots of foam pies shoved in my face and hearing the girl pieing me enjoying pieing me and wanting pie me more. Huge foam pies feel wonderful and turn me on ! Just pie me!
Wet Nikki - I agree , the sexxy contact with another while getting messy can be highly erotic. I have a good friend that loves pieing Babs ( my sissy side). After the initial pies ( say 5) she lays me on the bed surrounded with another 5-6 pies. She loves hoping on top of me and holds a huge pie in her hand. Every time she has an orgasm, she pushes that pie in my face. I have to hold back from exploring until all the pies are on my face. I have an amazing O and she loves this fun, messy, sexxy play!
For me, the fascination/attraction with mud started with it being taboo - I was not encouraged/allowed to get messy as child. I remember seeing others get muddy in PE classes and being mesmerised by how dirt on skin looked, you know, muddy legs after football on a wet pitch, cross country, etc. I can remember feeling jealous, peculiar, hot in the face. It's easy to see it as aroused now, but not back then.
It was in pottery class that I experienced clay turned into mud. If the pottery clay dried out a bit too much, we were told to add water to it and kneed it to make it pliable, but it also turned to thick, very creamy, mud when you add a bit too much water. It was like discovering how to make diamonds, pure alchemy!
Now much older, having regularly purchased pottery clay for the sole purpose of turning it into mud, I can safely say that its look, its feel, its smell, its caress, the fact that its taboo(ish)/naughty, the slurpy naughty sounds it makes, its taste (you know you're a dirty individual when it's in your mouth and it doesn't bother you), its weight on your head and limbs, the darkness when your eyes are covered, the silence when you're ears are full, the way it makes you breathe when it fills your nose and mouth (it's surprisingly easy to make a gap for air), the way it cakes your skin but is wet and slippery to the touch, all adds to the appeal and excitement.
I nearly always fantasise about being made to get filthy for someone, or being submissive whilst someone sets about making me as dirty as they possibly can, or having a sexual experience with someone in the filth, their privates would be thickly coated or submerged under the mud and they'd push my face under and make me lick or blow them off under the mud, letting me up for breaths before pushing my head back under to continue until they orgasm.
All of this turns me on, WAM so much more than the sum of its individual parts.
It was in pottery class that I experienced clay turned into mud. If the pottery clay dried out a bit too much, we were told to add water to it and kneed it to make it pliable, but it also turned to thick, very creamy, mud when you add a bit too much water. It was like discovering how to make diamonds, pure alchemy!
Now much older, having regularly purchased pottery clay for the sole purpose of turning it into mud, I can safely say that its look, its feel, its smell, its caress, the fact that its taboo(ish)/naughty, the slurpy naughty sounds it makes, its taste (you know you're a dirty individual when it's in your mouth and it doesn't bother you), its weight on your head and limbs, the darkness when your eyes are covered, the silence when you're ears are full, the way it makes you breathe when it fills your nose and mouth (it's surprisingly easy to make a gap for air), the way it cakes your skin but is wet and slippery to the touch, all adds to the appeal and excitement.
I nearly always fantasise about being made to get filthy for someone, or being submissive whilst someone sets about making me as dirty as they possibly can, or having a sexual experience with someone in the filth, their privates would be thickly coated or submerged under the mud and they'd push my face under and make me lick or blow them off under the mud, letting me up for breaths before pushing my head back under to continue until they orgasm.
All of this turns me on, WAM so much more than the sum of its individual parts.
for me its the sensation of it, the textures and thickness of things covering your body,
the feeling of the taboo of it, the forbiddances of being covered in muck, filth and food if that makes sense
the feeling of the taboo of it, the forbiddances of being covered in muck, filth and food if that makes sense
I think with me sensation is a lot of it -- the shock of wet mud through my sweatshirt as I plunge into a puddle, my feet suddenly sinking when I'm exploring what looks like a dried-up pond, cold soft sludge creeping up my legs as I slowly sink in a bottomless bog, thick clay oozing over the top of my wellies, or losing my balance and landing on my arse in thick ooze. Then there's the feeling of helplessness when I get thoroughly stuck, even if it's only knee deep, and struggle to free myself from the sucking mud, probably getting thoroughly covered in it as I drag myself out.
There's also an element of transgressiveness. I'm not supposed to wade into mud that's too deep for my wellies, jump in puddles and get splattered from head to toe, ruin my nice jeans and hoodie rolling around in thick brown slop... so it gives me a buzz when I get to do it. There have been times when I've been walking back from a session, covered from neck to toe in mud and soaked to the skin, where wading into yet another bog couldn't possibly have made me any more filthy than I was -- and yet in I waded, and that can only have been because it was something I wasn't supposed to do.
There's also an element of transgressiveness. I'm not supposed to wade into mud that's too deep for my wellies, jump in puddles and get splattered from head to toe, ruin my nice jeans and hoodie rolling around in thick brown slop... so it gives me a buzz when I get to do it. There have been times when I've been walking back from a session, covered from neck to toe in mud and soaked to the skin, where wading into yet another bog couldn't possibly have made me any more filthy than I was -- and yet in I waded, and that can only have been because it was something I wasn't supposed to do.
Breaking the "rules" stress free, the silliness of some of it (Swimming, hot tubbing, etc. in winter-ish clothes) sometimes the shock factor, and definitely the sensations of messy stuff and wet clothes. Floating around inside jeans and a turtleneck sweater while swimming in a pond, or sometimes but rarely a swimming pool is a "different" feeling. Then there's the "look" or appearance of some clothing wet (back when my ex wife was hot, wet tight jeans and a turtleneck made her a head-turner for everyone around).
Irony and audacity play into it - thinking nothing of jumping in a pool or wading into a river or pond fully dressed or as happened a couple times, joining in an already going party where people were swimming in their clothes. Getting "dressed" to hang out by a pool, knowing full well we'll be swimming before the night is over, and the role play of splashing or pushing someone in to get things started.
Irony and audacity play into it - thinking nothing of jumping in a pool or wading into a river or pond fully dressed or as happened a couple times, joining in an already going party where people were swimming in their clothes. Getting "dressed" to hang out by a pool, knowing full well we'll be swimming before the night is over, and the role play of splashing or pushing someone in to get things started.
for myself, I like the feeling of being reckless and improper, and combined with a love of water and soap i enjoy combining it into fully clothed and shod baths. it also feels so silly and extraordinary at the same time, i love the feeling!
being able to lay back in the bath in my work fashion, or after coming home from an outing, feeling my footwear all wet and squishy, clothes clingy and heavy, any makeup on my face a bit runny, and watching my purse and accessories bob around in the water while I use my phone or enjoy a cup of tea or coffee is my little happy place in a busy hectic world
being able to lay back in the bath in my work fashion, or after coming home from an outing, feeling my footwear all wet and squishy, clothes clingy and heavy, any makeup on my face a bit runny, and watching my purse and accessories bob around in the water while I use my phone or enjoy a cup of tea or coffee is my little happy place in a busy hectic world
Muddddy said: For me, the fascination/attraction with mud started with it being taboo - I was not encouraged/allowed to get messy as child. I remember seeing others get muddy in PE classes and being mesmerised by how dirt on skin looked, you know, muddy legs after football on a wet pitch, cross country, etc. I can remember feeling jealous, peculiar, hot in the face. It's easy to see it as aroused now, but not back then.
It was in pottery class that I experienced clay turned into mud. If the pottery clay dried out a bit too much, we were told to add water to it and kneed it to make it pliable, but it also turned to thick, very creamy, mud when you add a bit too much water. It was like discovering how to make diamonds, pure alchemy!
Now much older, having regularly purchased pottery clay for the sole purpose of turning it into mud, I can safely say that its look, its feel, its smell, its caress, the fact that its taboo(ish)/naughty, the slurpy naughty sounds it makes, its taste (you know you're a dirty individual when it's in your mouth and it doesn't bother you), its weight on your head and limbs, the darkness when your eyes are covered, the silence when you're ears are full, the way it makes you breathe when it fills your nose and mouth (it's surprisingly easy to make a gap for air), the way it cakes your skin but is wet and slippery to the touch, all adds to the appeal and excitement.
I nearly always fantasise about being made to get filthy for someone, or being submissive whilst someone sets about making me as dirty as they possibly can, or having a sexual experience with someone in the filth, their privates would be thickly coated or submerged under the mud and they'd push my face under and make me lick or blow them off under the mud, letting me up for breaths before pushing my head back under to continue until they orgasm.
All of this turns me on, WAM so much more than the sum of its individual parts.
It was in pottery class that I experienced clay turned into mud. If the pottery clay dried out a bit too much, we were told to add water to it and kneed it to make it pliable, but it also turned to thick, very creamy, mud when you add a bit too much water. It was like discovering how to make diamonds, pure alchemy!
Now much older, having regularly purchased pottery clay for the sole purpose of turning it into mud, I can safely say that its look, its feel, its smell, its caress, the fact that its taboo(ish)/naughty, the slurpy naughty sounds it makes, its taste (you know you're a dirty individual when it's in your mouth and it doesn't bother you), its weight on your head and limbs, the darkness when your eyes are covered, the silence when you're ears are full, the way it makes you breathe when it fills your nose and mouth (it's surprisingly easy to make a gap for air), the way it cakes your skin but is wet and slippery to the touch, all adds to the appeal and excitement.
I nearly always fantasise about being made to get filthy for someone, or being submissive whilst someone sets about making me as dirty as they possibly can, or having a sexual experience with someone in the filth, their privates would be thickly coated or submerged under the mud and they'd push my face under and make me lick or blow them off under the mud, letting me up for breaths before pushing my head back under to continue until they orgasm.
All of this turns me on, WAM so much more than the sum of its individual parts.
Oh, that's so hot!
I had my first messy awakening in pottery class as well. We had a fifty five gallon trash container that we used to recycle clay. It was three quarters full of sloppy old clay, water and silky smooth muck. I would stick my arms into the container to 'mix' it as often as I could and yet not attract attention. Feeling all of that go up my arms above my elbows always made my head go fuzzy. I would fantasize about what I would do if I ever had total privacy. Me and my mucky lover.
Kreamed
Design & Code ©1998-2025 Loverbuns, LLC 18 U.S.C. 2257 Record-Keeping Requirements Compliance Statement
Epoch Billing Support Log In