All Sabine wanted was that one perfect vacation photo. She was wearing her favorite white summer dress, which fluttered beautifully in the salty breeze as she strolled with her husband, Thorsten, across the damp sand of the North Sea. The low tide had exposed the mudflats--an endless expanse of shimmering gray.

The Flying Takeoff
Suddenly, it happened: A completely overexcited Golden Retriever shot toward her like a furry torpedo out of nowhere. Sabine was so startled that her legs jerked about uncontrollably. With a hearty squeal, she lost her footing and landed with a resounding "plop" on her back in the deepest, stickiest mud East Frisia had to offer. Sabine looked as if she had fallen into a pond of Nutella.

Thorsten was holding his sides with laughter. "Sabine, your dress! You look like an Oreo cookie with too much filling!"

The Revenge

But what goes around comes around. Sabine just grinned wickedly, grabbed Thorsten by the ankle, and with a powerful jerk pulled him down towards her. Now they both lay there, two mud-caked tourists in the gray mud. What began as a little revenge immediately escalated into a wild mud fight. They hurled the slippery clumps at each other until not a millimeter of skin was visible.

Ecstasy in the Mudflats
Laughing and tightly entwined, they rolled deeper into a deep depression filled with thick, sticky mud. The silt was warm, viscous, and felt surprisingly sensual against their skin. In a mixture of high spirits and passion, they began to peel each other out of their heavy, mud-soaked clothes.

As they rolled naked and tightly entwined through the deep, sticky mud, something unexpected happened. Sabine felt the thick mud rubbing between her legs with every movement. The consistency, the pressure, and the glide of the mudflats were so intense that she was overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure. One orgasm after another coursed through her as she pressed herself deeper into the sticky, greasy mud of the North Sea, which clung to her body centimeters thick. She thought, "This is simply amazing."

Completely breathless and covered in mud, she looked at Thorsten, who was at least as thrilled (and dirty).

"Forget the hotel bed," she gasped, wiping a strand of mud from her face. "This is a thousand times better than any sex we've ever had. We'll come back tomorrow--and this time we're leaving the white dress in the suitcase!" Sabine thought to herself, if other women thought bathing in North Sea mud felt so wonderful, the North Sea would soon be overcrowded. She absolutely had to tell her friend.