She bugged me to take her fishing in the boat again, but after a drunken performance in the fall I had my reservations. Sure, she got some laughs, and nobody there was beyond risky behavior, yet everyone remembered her and her swimming outfit.

And at 6 a.m. she strutted down to the dock in the same tight faded jeans and jacket and the same thick ribbed turtleneck sweater underneath, in a pair of beat up riding boots. This time she looked ready to fish, she had her own gear, right down to the camo hat with the big gold fish hook on the brim. I thought "Dressed like that?" but didn't say anything. It took Darlene, half awake and sipping coffee while talking to me, to throw the first stone. One look and she said "Here we go again!" as Cindy just shot her a smile and said "Maybe" with a giggle.

Out of the ramp and a half mile to the bridge she pointed to the shore at the abutment and had me pull in. She reached over the side and grabbed a 30 pack she had cooling down. "For later" she said, as I protested that we came to fish, not drink.

And fish we did, for almost 6 hrs straight, and caught and threw back a whole slew of fish of every size and species, even though we were targeting the "smallies".

At noon, we anchored and broke out lunch, and she went for the beers in one of the live wells. I took a pass and stuck to the coffee I had brought.

The sun was high, but it was windy - not a bad day, better than the 41 degrees when we started out, but not particularly warm out in the open, and near the shore, in the shade, actually pretty cool for an otherwise nice late spring day.

She was 4 beers in when I decided to anchor near the edge of the channel and fish a deep hole, and as we dropped it and tied off, Darlene and her husband Jim pulled alongside with their pontoon boat. The next 20 minutes was all about the fish that day, and the weather, and the storm coming for the evening when they roll out of the hills fast and nasty. Jim hoisted the "Cocktail Flag" and I succumbed to temptation, as Cindy downed her 6th or 7th beer as she fished like it was her job.

The wind died down and it seemed actually warm, and Cindy shed the denim jacket, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater in the process, and I peeled off my hoodie revealing the black ribbed turtleneck sweater underneath.

And then it happened. Darlene, on about her 4th whiskey and ginger got catty with a comment to Cindy about being surprised she was still dry. Cindy took one look at her in jeans and a sweatshirt and said something about her wearing her "swimming clothes too". That ended it for a while, at least until Brad and Shelley pulled up. They rafted their pontoon boat to Jims' and climbed over, drinks in hand, already looking like they'd had a few.

And it started again. Jim was in jeans and a sweatshirt and so was Brad, but Shelley being Shelley had on tight designer jeans and her usual ribbed turtleneck sweater, this one a subdued yellow that looked painted on. She was, amongst other things, a fitness instructor and kids dance teacher, working a few nights and Saturdays after her accounting job. She had a body, loved to show it off, and Brad loved to show her off. Sitting there in the sun, drink in her hand, all she said was "I wish I brought my swimsuit now that it's so nice out." And then came Darlene - "Well, if you were Cindy big-tits over there, you'd be already wearing it" which at first drew a quizzical look from Shelley, and as she looked at Cindy, and then at herself, she finally got it.

Shelly noticed Cindy glaring at Darlene, along with all the guys looking at them both wondering what was next. And Shelley broke the ice, "If it gets much warmer out, I might just go in like this Darlene" and "If you had something to wear instead of that baggy, heavy sweatshirt, you could too!"

Cindy got a smile out of that one and grabbed another beer from the cooler, not saying anything as she cast the lure out again and focused on the water. One more fish caught and released and one more beer half empty, she put her rod in the rack, looked at me and said "Gotta go, it's that time". I thought she meant leave, and as I started saying goodbyes and undoing the gunwhale lines, she said "No stupid, I gotta GO - now hang that boarding ladder over the side".
And I knew what she meant.

As I dug out the little ladder, with Cindy doing a little dance on deck, Darlene took another shot, about using a bucket to pee. Cindy glared at her and mentioned the guys there, and asked her if she had some kind of desire to watch her. Darlene stammered, and Cindy knew she had her.
A couple bold steps and up on the edge of the boat - I expected her to just plop into the water, but not Cindy. "Hey Darlene, since your so fascinated, the watch" as she shouted out, and with a smile her jeans turned dark with a glistening wetness. "Get a good look Dar honey, you seem so obsessed" and she stepped off the edge into the chest deep water. "Hey Dar, this is how I flush" she shouted up, as she lay back letting the river soak her completely.

She stood back up and asked for a beer, and before I could get to the cooler, Shelley was on it. With 2 in her hand she plunked her ass down on the side of the boat, swiveled around and slipped into the water. "I'll give Darlene someone else to talk about Hun, and besides, I need to pee too" she told Cindy as she handed her a beer.

"Damn, this water is pretty warm" Shelley said to nobody in particular as she stood there just above her waist guzzling down her beer. She and Cindy were close together facing each other and I couldn't hear what they were saying, but as 2 empty beer cans hit the deck of my boat, I watched them both turn into the water and swim over to a deeper spot and tread water for a few minutes, and then head back to the boats. They found their comfort zone in water just deep enough and bobbed up and down for a while and then bobbed out to the channel marker, where the water was barely knee deep on a spit of sand jutting into the stream. "We're exploring" they yelled back to us and they climbed up onto the sandbar.

They disappeared into the woods, came out on the other side, and generally poked around and dripped off all over the place. "Okay, we're coming back" Shelley yelled to Brad as they reappeared 30 or so feet from where they exited the river.

None of us gave a thought to the eddy that they were about to enter, with its still water and some floating debris, minus the current they would have to deal with coming back to the boat.

As they stepped in and got about to their knees, we could hear them remark about how warm the water was, and the bottom "mushy". About thigh deep and navigating across, the water got more shallow and as they climbed up it was barely over their ankles. "We can almost walk to the boat" Cindy shouted across, as she took a few steps and sank into the silt a bit, "Or not" she said as she pulled up a foot. She and Shelley went a few more steps, closer to the channel, and they must have found the "Sweet spot", where 4 inches of water covered a huge deposit of silt and mud. And down they went, right up to their armpits, and every move sent a cloud of mud up into the water. "Ohhhh fuck!" came out of Shelleys' mouth loud and clear. "Relax and enjoy it" Cindy told her with a laugh as she rolled over on her back and pulled her feet up out of the ooze. Shelley repeated the maneuver and freed herself, although both were now covered with mud. "We'll just take our time and have some fun, like this" Cindy said as she crawled on her hands and knees towards the boats, with Shelley following, both of them occasionally putting down a hand and ending up with their whole arm sunken into the slop. It only took maybe 20 feet at the most and they were back where they could maneuver, free of the mud, where the current was moving. They were side by side, heading for the clean water, when they turned around.

"We're going to have some fun first" Shelley shouted back as they both stood up and stepped into the ooze, sinking to their thighs and wiggling down to their waists. Then they flopped on their sides and repeated the process, every time coming up covered with more filth and muck.
The were throwing handfuls of mud at each other and laughing, occasionally trying to hit the boats or one of us, as they knee walked across the slop, sometimes trying to stand, sometimes crawling, but every move getting them dirtier than before. As the 2 of them played, slinging mud and screeching like school kids, a few boats passed through with passengers laughing or encouraging it. A small 15 ft bowrider with a family on board stopped to watch for a minute, as the father held the boat in the current and the whole bunch of them laughed, the not so bad looking mother yelled over to them that it looked like fun. She was immediately invited to join by Shelley, and declining her 8-9 yr. old son said he wanted to go in the mud, while her blonde daughter just sat and stared at the 2 fully dressed adult women playing in the slop. Her husband said "Go if you want to" as the boy started to plead. "Empty your pockets and take off your sneakers" she told the boy as she did the same, shedding her windbreaker and revealing the blur and white striped French sailors sweater she was wearing. The boy was on the edge of the boat as she moved closer and looked at her husband, "I don't know about this" she said as her but went on the rail and she swiveled around and put her feet in the water. "At least it's warm" was the last thing she said as she slipped over the side up to her waist, the boy jumping in right after her. The daughter moved her stare from the two women to her mother and brother, and back again, and glanced around taking in the whole scene, her face almost without expression.

All of a sudden, she stood up, handed her cell phone to her dad, kicked off her sneakers, and moved to the side of the boat. The windbreaker she had on came off revealing a green and white rugby shirt over a white turtleneck. As she tied her hair back. she said something to her dad that elicited a laugh, and then stepped up on the side rail of the boat. A good look at her gave us a guess that she was in her early 20's, and later confirmed that she was a college senior. She pushed off the edge of the boat with force, and took air past her mother and brother, landing feet first with a plop and sinking up to her thighs. She turned to wait for them as they crawled and knee walked toward her and the others, only to catch a handful of mud thrown by her brother. She reciprocated in kind, catching the mom as well, though she didn't react. By now, they were headed for Cindy and Shelley, and it was moms' time as the girl sunk into the mud, mom wrapped herself around her and pulled her down and in, covering them both as they rolled to get out.

We had a show to watch, and all the guys were laughing and egging them on. The only one who wasn't engaged was Darlene. It didn't take long for her to complain about all of us acting like high schoolers and lacking maturity. We mostly blew off her comments until Jim told her to knock it off - heard by everyone else there. Cindy kept quiet, but not Shelley. She literally told Darlene to "Get the stick out of your ass and have some fun" and before Darlene could say a word, Jim agreed, and then we ganged up on her. She couldn't even speak through the taunts from everyone, now including our new found friends who encouraged her to join in.

Darlene tipped up her solo cup and drained it, downing the last of a stiff drink of whiskey and soda. She looked around and found an equipment bag. Digging through it she pulled out an old oversize t-shirt and exchanged that for the heavy sweatshirt. She straightened up and looked at herself, and the shirt, faded, ripped, baggy, and took it off and threw it in a corner of the boat. Standing there in a bra and jeans she was hesitant to move, obviously thinking about something. She went back to the bag and dug out a white fisherman's turtleneck sweater and slipped it on. It fit her great, and as she adjusted the neck she actually smiled. She looked at Jim who muttered "Finally" and gave her a thumbs up, telling her she looked good. It must have worked because before she went into the water she put on red lipstick and brushed out her hair, giving Jim a kiss and grabbing his crotch as she went by him.

No fanfare with Darlene. She went to the front of the pontoon boat, sat down on the deck with her legs dangling in the water soaking her jeans to her knees for a minute, and then slid off the edge. The water was deeper and over her head in that particular spot, but she swam like a champ to the edge of the sandbar where she could regain her footing.

Darlene was clean but wet, her jeans shiny and the sweater, although white and bright, the turtleneck rubbing high against her chin, sagging and dripping at the bottom. She was clearly "fresh meat" for the muddy quintet ahead of her, and she played the game, shrieking and complaining every time a thrown handful of mud hit home, until she was "there". And "there" was the place, the spot where with a few steps the mud engulfs your legs, and every move makes you sink further, where the others rolled around and wrestled and smeared mud on themselves and each other. And she went beyond. Not far beyond, not yards, but feet, where the water topped the mud by half a foot, and where a few floating leaves had sat stagnant in the water, where it was warmer than the rest. It was there that she found it, the hole full of dirt saturated to just the right consistency, where the silt had settled, suspended in the water along with whatever other runoff had come through the watercourse. It was there that the ledge outcropping in the river had trapped it all and suspended it with the perfect proportions of water. In a hole where a six foot person would stand chest deep, and a 5'6" woman would be up to her chin.

It was warm, thick, embracing, and oozed it's way through the fabric of her clothes. She went up to her chin, making sure every inch of her sweater was covered in the ooze. And she stood there. The others watched her, wondering what she was up to as she said nothing, her eyes closed, no movement detected. Her arms moved a bit, if only to steady herself as she emptied a straining bladder into her jeans, moments later causing a massive string of orgasms with only a whimper from her lips. As she opened her eyes and smiled, everyone but the boy knew, and as she invited them to experience her "place" they clamored into the ooze up to their chins yet floating in the mess. As handfuls were brought to the surface to throw, or rub, the powerful smell of it didn't deter them.

The boy knew nothing of what was going on, it is doubtful the men realized it, but each of the women was reveling in the filth, the almost primordial ooze, by products of who knows what deposited by the river since the last big flood. And they covered themselves and each other, eventually even dipping below the surface with faces and hair.

And periodically, one of them would move away from the group. Whether to relieve themselves or not, is unknown, but the length of time, small noises, and smiles told a tale of orgasms, possibly several in a row, while encased in the stinking morass of the backwater.

Eventually they moved back to the stream and cleaner water. The mom and the boy, she made him swim around to get rid of as much mud as possible, and once he was in the boat, she spent a few alone minutes in the water. Shelley had enough, her blonde hair muddy and frazzled, the yellow sweater still holding remnants of the mud, she was rinsing her head with a bucket while trying to brush it out on board the pontoon boat.

Linda and Cindy were now back on better terms, both of them still writhing in the mud, Lindas' face and hair still clean, mostly. They moved to the fresh water and got in deep, leaving a muddy cloud around them as the washed themselves free of the ooze.

The girl was the last out of the mud, having to be prompted by her mom. The women agreed that it was no doubt her hormones were on overdrive and she was doing her best to address the situation. She swam back to the boat with a smile, and while the others placidly moved about in the water to clean up, she dove or jumped several times and continued to enjoy her experience.

Linda said something to the mother about the girls clothes, and their own, and the mom reassured her that she was well used to it, and the daughter, being on a swim team, always had wet something or other to throw in the laundry and had swam in her clothes since she was a child. Even the mom herself admitted that growing up, her bathing suit was what she was wearing, and playing in a creek or in mud was pretty normal.

Eventually they were all back on the boats, drying their hair with what few towels there were, and joking about the whole thing. Shelley said she was going to wear the sweater to work the next day after it was washed, just to remind her. The family thanked us for allowing them to join and departed upstream, and my boat and Jims' headed back to the marina.


Some of the boaters had a bonfire going on the little beach there and as the sun was setting the temperature was dropping. Jim secured his boat while Linda headed to the fire, the resulting laughing affirming her wetness was noticed and questioned.

Cindy and I unloaded all the gear and debated the fire or heading home. That ended at my truck as Linda showed up and counted the remaining beers. Cindy had sobered up and was ready for round two. She straightened the neck of her sweater and threw on her denim jacket and brushed out her hair as I finished stowing the gear.

As I reached for my hoodie she blocked me and said "un,un!" and handed me a thicker acrylic turtleneck sweater she dug out of a bag of clothes. I protested since I already had he thin ribbed one on, and she just smiled at me and said "Layered look honey, you're not out of place, look at the rest of the crowd". Pretty close, sweaters, jackets, hoodies, you name it. She fixed the neck of it, put a hat on my head and off we went, beer in tow.

The fire was warm as the temps dropped and we visited and had a few, but nothing to excess. By 9, everyone was leaving and so were we. We were talking to Linda, both of them being on good terms again and as we were wrapping it up Cindy started to shiver. I thought she was cold
and said "Let's go!". "I gotta pee" was her response. My answer, "So do I, lets hit the cans in the parking lot." Then Linda chimes in "So do I" and walks down the little beach and up to her calves in the water. It's cold, there's steam rising from the marina basin but she insists the water is warm. Cindy decides to confirm, but she's still squelching around in her riding boots, so she goes up to her knees, "Warmer than the river" comes out as she squelches back.

I've been dry all day, she's got me layered up in heavy clothes. it's late and I'm tired and have to drive 40 minutes home. And they want to hear none of it. I have one holding each arm, both insisting they're about to explode, I'm not far from that myself.

So I give in. The three of us walk into the water (which was actually warm) by the time I'm up to my waist I'm letting go in my jeans, they ask me, I tell them. Their turn, they announce it. We're armpit deep, I'm ready to be done, they're not. We go in deeper until we're swimming, up to our chins, Cindy still wearing her denim jacket over her sweater, still in her boots. Linda doesn't want to get her hair wet now, and she still has lipstick on. Both of them are continually standing up the necks of their sweaters. Cindy comes over and straightens mine up, wraps herself around me as I'm standing neck deep, gives me a kiss and thanks me for a good day. Then asks if I feel the water getting warmer. We're ready to go, Linda apologizes to Cindy and they wrap themselves around each other and make out for a couple minutes.

We finally get out of the water, there are still a few people around the fire, they just laugh and ask how the water was and if we had fun. We drip off for about ten minutes and head for my truck. Cindy wants a ride home, even though she drove there - I agree, knowing it'll add 20 minutes to my trip home.

I got home the next day at noon. I thought I was dropping her off, she made me come in, we showered with our clothes on, had sex in the shower and again in the bed. Even though I had extras in the truck, my clothes were clean and dry in the morning, for a bit of lounging after a light breakfast I figured I'd just slip into them and go home. Nope! She was ready for one more adventure.

She handed me my clothes and told me to get dressed, minus the shoes. She donned a similar outfit to the one the day before. Then she led me to the back deck and I helped her uncover the hot tub. She told me to get comfortable and she'd be right back, so I took a seat in a deck chair.
Not half a minute went by and she returned with 2 cans of shaving cream and a jug of Mr. Bubble, adding the latter liberally to the tub and turning on the jets. Within 2 minutes, bubbles were spilling out over the side and onto the deck as she added more to the mix. She sat me in a chair and began to massage me with shaving cream, covering my clothes and rubbing it in, and handed me a can to do the same to her.

As we sat in waist deep bubbles she took my load on the front of her sweater, and then took me into the hot tub without us removing a stitch of clothes. We played around for a while and she begged me to rub her to orgasm through her jeans, which I did a couple times as she sat on my lap and I played with her tits with my other hand.

When we were finished, we rinsed off in our clothes in the shower and she retrieved my spares from my truck. I headed home after a "Thanks for the fun!" from her.

I've known her over 15 years. We never dated. Sometimes we'd bump into each other when we were with other people. It might be 6 months between emails, but now we can text. Ya. we started when texting was new and people used fax machines. Once in a while we'd get together when she was around, but she travels for business so it's infrequent. After a bad divorce and years of heavy drinking (corporate style) she's cleaned up her act, but likes to bust loose once in a while. The whole wetlook thing for her, just as with myself, is a rebellion to our adult lifestyles and rigid "fitting in" requirements. We can get away with it with the crew around the river, many of them are the same way, some with different kinks.

Summer is almost over. Maybe she'll be back after Labor Day - we'll take another boat ride and who knows what will happen. I wish I still had the jet ski - that's how I met her, hanging around the boat ramp looking for a ride, in a business suit, with heels. She had a bad day at work and a worse flight home.

I have to say that she's the only person I ever met that has "wardrobe requirements" for boating, swimming or a jet ski! (We went out once in the fall when it was cool. The jet ski was one of those big ones where you don't get wet unless you want to. We had jeans, light ski jackets and turtleneck sweaters on. The water was pretty warm, she dared me to get us wet, I did, a little, she wanted more so I dumped it, we swam around for a while with life jackets holding us up - she was hooked)

A couple years ago I got a random text:

Hey dude, wanna go out on the jet ski this week, going to be home most of the week".

Check out the pic! I found this sweater in a mall in Chicago!!!! Love it, look how high the neck goes!!! I wore it to a meeting with my skinny jeans and heels and everyone forgot about the "business attire rules"

I think I found my new jet ski outfit - it hugs the "twins" good when dry, can't wait to get it wet - WITH YOU!

She was the toast of the town on the river that year!!!!