Suzy was usually into tight, ribbed turtlenecks for our wet and messy play and most times, she'd layer up, with a shirt or something else over it, including heavier clothes for skiing. We swam or got messy in a variety of outfits, but for a while she had a favorite that didn't fit the bill exactly. One day I came home and she was wearing a heavy white turtleneck fishermans' sweater. "Nice sweater" I commented, and she smiled and said "This is for wearing, not play clothes." Which elicited an exaggerated frown from me, but I said nothing. Without any real further thoughts on the matter, I noticed that she wore that particular sweater quite a bit around the house, and under a vest when she went out. More often than not, she'd pull it on over a cotton or a ribbed turtleneck and pull up the collar and roll up the sleeves a bit so the under garment showed a the layered look. Never, not once, did she even allude to getting wet in that outfit and a weekend away surprised me more than I could imagine.
We went away for Valentines weekend and got a room with a hot tub anticipating some wet fun. Before going out to eat, she dressed in tight black jeans and a bright red ribbed turtleneck sweater, joking about "play clothes" - and then pulled the white sweater on over it, topping it off with a red down vest, pointing out the red and white was for Valentines Day. I got a look of feigned disgust as I dressed in my usual black ribbed turtleneck sweater and faded jeans with a down vest, as she commented "No sense of romance and adventure." Frankly I didn't even give it a second thought by the time we left.
Dinner was good, but unremarkable as there was the usual holiday crush in the restaurant, and we left without hanging around the bar for a couple drinks. She prompted me to stop for beer on the way back, and we were in the hotel before very long. We were in the room for only a few minutes and she decided that we were going for "A walk" along with a small cooler full of beer. I dutifully followed, and was surprised when she went down to the atrium surrounding the pool and jacuzzi. As she held the door open, I gave her a bit of a funny look and nodded towards the people inside. She just smiled, followed me through the doors and headed to a table with a couple of lounge chairs. We sat down and she explained that she thought it was a better place to relax. I figured what the heck, as there were a few people in the pool, and plenty more just sitting around enjoying the warmth and relaxing. So we hung out, talked, and had a few beers until the crowd petered out maybe a half hour later. It was down to her and I and I had no idea what was coming next.
I guess I should say I was surprised, but not really, as by this time nothing was unexpected. She simply got up, took off her shoes and walked to the edge of the pool, sitting down on the edge in the accumulated water and dangling her jeans covered legs into the pool. In less than a minute, she said "Come join me" and as I took my shoes off she just looked at me with a smile. I sat down and did the same, wetting my jeans to the knees. Now the fun began as she splashed me, and I got her back. A couple more splashes, and she was on her feet saying "Come on!" I followed her and she went right to the water slide. "I always wanted to do this with my clothes on" she said as she climbed the stairs. "Aren't you a little overdressed?" I asked. "Nope, been waiting to swim in this outfit" she said as she sat down and pushed off, hitting the water with a splash, and popping up with a smile on her face. "Let's go!" she said as I sat down on the slide and felt the water soak my jeans. In seconds I was skimming the bottom of the pool with the butt of my jeans, and in a moment, popped up beside her. "WTF?" were my first words. "Nothing, no stress, no comments, nothing - I just feel like swimming" she answered. And so we did, and used the slide a few more times too, until we got tired of it all and went back to our room. We showered together and she made sure we rinsed all the chlorine out of our clothes, and wrung out as much water as she could. Just before we settled in, she took everything to the laundry room and put it in the dryer.
6 a.m. rolled around faster than expected and we were up, into our sweats and down to the lobby for coffee in less than 10 minutes. By 6:15 she had retrieved our previously sodden clothing, and by 6:30 she was dressing back in the same clothes she had on the night before. I mumbled something about it that I don't even remember and she told me to put my "swimming clothes" back on and that we're going to the pool again. I dutifully obeyed, followed her to the lobby for more coffee and a newspaper, and before long we were on our way. When we entered the atrium, there were a couple staff cleaning the place up. At first, we apologized for coming in so early and they told us not to worry about it. We grabbed chairs and a table and began to read the paper and sip our coffee. As we sat there, we began chatting up the staff members a bit as they cleaned around our general area., generally discussing the mess that some people left behind. That conversation turned into what was allowed and what wasn't, and apparently was the perfect opening for Suzy to ask about the jaccuzzi pool there. "I'd like to fill that thing with bubbles" she pointed out to the female staffer mopping up nearby. "Go ahead, we drain it a couple times a day so it really doesn't matter." was her response. We looked at each other and smiled and I ended up hoofing it back to the room for the Mr. Bubble. Back in a flash, I handed it to Suzy. Instead of a capful or 2, she smiled and dumped the remainder, maybe a third of the bottle, into the water and pressed the start button with her toe. In a minute, the tub was filled with bubbles, much to the chagrin of the worker who had told us it was okay. "Now what?" the staffer asked us, looking us up and down. "Bubble bath!!" answered Suzy as she stepped into the foam and found the rail and first step of the tub. As the staffer just stared at us, she descended into the foam and the water with a smile on her face. "Coming dearie?" she said. "Yes dear" was my reply as I gave an exaggerated smile to the hotel staffer and followed my wife into the tub. As we sat down engulfed in foam and water, we both sat back and fully submersed our outfits, pushing the bubbles away from our faces with our arms. The woman who had encouraged this finally spoke up, "I had no idea you meant that much bubbles and that you were going in just like you are, dressed and all!" She had a half-perplexed and half-smile look on her face as she spoke. Suzy simply responded with a smile and said "Why not?" The woman just shrugged, said "Have fun" and went back to her duties tyding up the area. "A little much Suzy" I said, "Kind of over dressed for this one". And she just looked at me and said "Who the fuck cares?, I want to get wet in my clothes and then go have sex in the room" as her hand reached the crotch of my jeans. "Apparently you do too" she said as she groped me with a smile on her face. "Yup!" was about all that I could come up with for a response.
20 minutes of hot water and bubbles was about it for us. We climbed out and she headed right to the shower "Gotta clean up before we swim" she said as I joined her, thinking we were just going to rinse the suds off. But not Suzy, a quick rinse, her outer sweater sagging from the weight of the water, and she was in the pool again. As I jumped off the side to join her, I caught the last looks from the employees as they were leaving the area. A quick glance, a smile and then a thumbs up from the woman followed by a quick wave, and I guessed correctly that we would have no trouble about our little adventure.
From that point on, just like her favorite black ribbed turtleneck, and perhaps a couple others, I could pretty much guess that if she was dressed this way, she was planning something fun somewhere along the line that day.
By now, she had become rather bold and shameless about getting wet and swimming pools were looked at as an opportunity, provided that the number of guests was minimal and there were no kids around, although there were exceptions. She had no problem joining in if there were other adults in the water with their clothes on, and on at least a couple occasions, she joined other mothers in the pool during kids parties when first the kids, then some parents, decided that they didn't care about wet clothes. Almost always, she had on some type of jeans and a turtleneck, and she loved to wear that white sweater any chance she could. More than once or twice she'd step off onto the pool steps or into the shallow end to talk to someone she had met at the hotel, rolling up her jeans legs first. Usually the banter between us would be something along the lines of "Don't get wet; strip some clothes off if you're going in; etc". And she'd respond with "I'll be fine" The next move was usually a misstep and getting the legs of her jeans wet, stepping deeper into the water on the pool steps, maybe getting splashed by someone or some kid, and then finally submitting to the call of the water. Then I would be either called, or challenged, even dared, to join her, or them. More than once, she'd join some jeans-clad mommy thigh deep in a hotel pool swishing a toddler back and forth and end up in the deep end fully dressed dunking some smart-ass teenager who splashed her, or the both of them, and then daring me to come join her.
That particular outfit was, for a while at least, her rain gear and swimsuit. Any cool and rainy day, it was one of her "go-to's" for flea markets, fairs, carnivals, and other outdoor shopping venues as well as walks in some of the state parks. More than once, soaked from the rain, we'd go to a swimming area or a beach and end up in the water with our clothes on, and she was loving it., preferring to get wet slowly, and then finally take the plunge when she was ready.
Her insatiable urge overcame her fear of being seen and judged in public, and I played along as best I could.
Eventually, the wetlook activities took their toll on her sweater and she stopped wearing it in public as an outer garment. Going through the laundry one day, she pulled up an ivory colored Lands End ribbed turtleneck of mine and suggested that it was about due for the trash, for all the same reasons as hers. Together, we decided for a "last fling" in white and told her to get dressed. I left and ran to Walmart, returning with a bulging shopping bag. I found my wife dressed in tight white jeans that she had been trying to bleach a juice stain out of, a white cotton turtleneck, and her white sweater over it. She smiled as I emptied the bag - Hershey syrup, pancake syrup, whipped cream, and chocolate pudding mix along with a carton of milk. She told me that she'd mix the pudding and that I should go and change. On the bed she had laid out my white sweater along with a white cotton turtleneck and a pair of white painters pants, all of which had seen better days. As soon as I had dressed, we grabbed the stuff and headed into the bathroom, figuring it to be the easiest room to clean up when we were done.
In minutes, pudding was smeared on crotches, chests and faces, turtlenecks were filled with whipped cream, as were jeans. She sat down in the tub and I emptied an entire bottle of Hershey syrup over her head, followed by topping it off with a full can of whipped cream. She grabbed a handful and smeared it from my face to my crotch, rubbing it in along the way and pulling me into the tub. She took another bottle of Hershey and started over my head before pulling open my turtleneck and emptying the rest down my neck and chest. She got up and made her way to the kitchen and back, after warning me of a surprise. In she walked with a wash bucket full of somewhat watery pudding mix, roughly a couple gallons. She told me to lie back in the tub, and as she sat down between my legs, she poured the mix over both of us. Then she rolled over and we kissed and groped for a while in the mess until she said "One more treat!". With that, she took a can of whipped cream in each hand and covered me with it until the cans ran out. Not yet finished, she had me stay in place as she opened 2 bottles of pancake syrup and began pouring them over my head and my whipped cream covered clothes. The smell reminded me that we had more stashed away, including 2 gallon jugs that we had left over from a breakfast benefit we had worked at. Gingerly, she crept into the kitchen and retrieved both of them and returned. We both wondered aloud if it was too much, and the decision was made when she sat down between my legs, her back to my chest, and started to pour it all over herself, drenching her hair and tilting her head back so it would run off on me. I grabbed and opened the other one and began to pour it on her, until she pushed away and turned around facing me on her knees. Her right hand hoisted her jug while she grabbed mine with her left, as she proceeded to empty most of the remaining contents over my head, pausing only to give herself a little too several times. When we were out of stuff to make a mess with, she unzipped my jeans and stroked me to completion, making sure that I topped off the mess on her chest.
We showered off together using tons of shampoo to clean up as best we could with our clothes on, then stripped out of them and washed the rest off of each other. The clothes went into the wash, but even after 2 cycles with ample bleach, weren't fit to be worn again so off to the trash they went.
I had just walked in from disposing of the "evidence" in our dumpster, only to find her dressed in black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater, instead of the sweats that I had anticipated. Without any prompting from me, she simply looked at me with a smile and said "Maybe we should stick to black for a while, I like the way it looks with my blonde hair."
And we did - and that's more stories to come!