I work as a receptionist at a large doctor's surgery and it's a great job. A couple of years ago we relocated the whole set up to a new, purpose built facility, and this was lots of hard work, but ultimately very worthwhile because our old building was very old and on the small side. The new facility came with new opening hours so our team had a need to work until 20:00 throughout the week. This isn't as bad as it sounds because there's a few of us so I only have to do this once a week. My late shift was (and still is) a Wednesday. I want to tell the story of something ridiculous and frankly unbelievable that occurred to me on my first ever Wednesday late shift.

I'm ashamed to admit that back then I was a smoker (I have since successfully kicked the habit) so at about 19:45 on that first night, I popped out the back for a cigarette. This was acceptable and permitted, and actually, on this night, staff and patients were very thin on the ground, I felt like I was pretty much on my own, why not go for a smoke! There was a small veranda to stand on, overlooking an area that was due to be landscaped. I say due to be, because at the time it was a huge churned up sea of mud from all the building work. Anyway, I finished my cigarette and turned to re-enter the building. And I couldn't. The door had closed itself, and could only be reopened from the inside. I banged loudly on it, but as I said, there was hardly anyone about, and nobody heard me! The realisation came that I was going to have to walk around to the front of the building to get back in. Obviously this would ordinarily be a non-issue, but I was basically trapped on a little veranda by the aforementioned sea of mud....!

Being at work, I wasn't wearing suitable shoes for "off roading" but there wasn't an awful lot I could do about it, I couldn't really stay there all night! In fact, my shoes were tiny little slip-on ballet pumps. Black, with a sparkly little motif on the front. I always wear this kind of shoe for work because when at a desk I can easily slip them off and work in my socks, it's just something I do. I considered taking my shoes and socks off and walking across the mud barefoot, but I couldn't bear the idea. Then I thought about taking just my shoes off, and going into the mud in my socks. I mean, it'd be a bit of protection for my feet and I could just rinse my socks off in one of the muddy puddles and drive home without shoes? I thought about this crazy idea for a little while and decided it was the best compromise. I really, really couldn't get my head around the idea of being barefoot in the mud. My shoes were quite new and I really didn't want to get them all muddy! I was definitely going to attempt the mud-crossing with my socks on.

I felt quite nervous as I slipped my smart little shoes off and bent down to pick them up. I also pulled my socks up firmly hoping that they'd stay on in the mud! The wooden veranda felt cool and hard as I stood there in my thin work socks, holding a shoe in each hand. Speaking of my socks, they were nice smart black ones, but they had the toe and heel area picked out in bright pink! With my shoes on, they're just a black sock. But shoes-off, the pink heels and toes really "popped" in the fading light of the evening! Although I always wear black socks to work, I never buy completely plain ones because a bit of colour makes them much easier to pair up after washing. Also, they are much more fun to wear! (Sorry, I love socks, I could talk about them all day!)

My heart was beating quickly as I gently walked, shoeless, to the edge of the veranda. The vast expanse of mud stretched away in front of me. It was approximately fifty feet or so to the safety of the concrete path on the other side. I have to come clean and say that there was definitely a part of me that was very excited, almost thrilled, about getting muddy. It was the incongruous nature of going into mud whilst smartly dressed for work that I found so compelling. I also felt really vulnerable to be heading to the mud with just socks on my feet. But vulnerable in a really exciting way! I realised that if someone had, at this point, let me in via the locked door, I'd have been really disappointed. I WANTED TO GET MUDDY. I WAS EXCITED ABOUT GETTING DIRTY SOCKS. These thoughts genuinely shocked me. I thought back to my childhood and remembered being told off for getting my clothes dirty. Perhaps this was why I was so excited about what I was about to do?

I smiled as I looked down at my left foot, resplendent in its smart black and pink sock. I cautiously lowered it from the veranda into the mud. It was thick, yet it yielded easily and the bright pink toe of my sock disappeared into the ooze. My foot went right in up to my ankle. I immediately put my right foot into the mud, next to my left, with a gentle squelch. I stood there for a moment, feeling the thick mud soaking into my thin socks. I wriggled my toes and could hear a distant squelching sound from within the mud. Nothing about this felt unpleasant to me, the mud was beautifully smooth and soft.

Right, now to try to walk across the mud! I giggled as I thought about how mad I must look, carrying my shoes in my hands and being ankle deep in mud in my black socks! I withdrew my left foot from the mud with a really quite loud squelch, and cautiously took a step further into the mud. (I noticed that the bright pink parts of my sock had disappeared under a layer of slimy mud!) This was easy I thought. I continued onwards for a few paces confident that I was just going to get muddy socks and that would be it. How wrong I was...

I would say I was around one third of the way across the mud when I took a step into a more volatile area. I pulled my right foot out of the mud, by now (to be honest) really quite enjoying squelching in the ooze, but stumbled slightly as my left foot sank a little deeper. In fact, the bottom of my left trouser leg went into the mud about three inches, much to my annoyance. then, as I put my right foot back down into the mud, in my slightly unbalanced state, I must've gone in more heavily. This coincided with the perfect storm of this particular area of the mud being wetter and deeper, but not obviously so from above. It was like there was a huge pocket of golden brown liquid mud under the firm surface. So, my foot squelched through the top, thicker layer and suddenly, and forcefully enter a large chamber of liquid mud. My once black and pink sock plunged in at pace until I was halfway to my knee in it. The movement of my foot displaced a huge portion of the thin wet mud and it shot, with force up my trouser leg, basically covering it with shiny brown slop! It was so violent that I even got a small amount of mud-spray in my face and it was speckled all over my top too. In my shock, I instinctively tried to take a bit of weight off my right foot. This resulted in my left foot, still only just over ankle deep, starting to sink deeper. Before I knew what was happening I felt my left sock suddenly feel much colder as it too descended into the wetter "sub layer". When the whole incident stopped (It took all of two seconds!) I was stood, almost knee deep in mud, with it splattered all up me. I had most definitely not got away with just muddy socks!

As I stood there, in slight shock, I realised with quite a jolt that I was not angry or upset to be so filthy in the mud. I felt a really pleasant buzzing in my tummy. I realised that I was having fun getting my smart work outfit dirty. I didn't know why, but I felt amazing. I realised that my nipples were hugely erect. I put this down to the slight spraying of cold mud that my shirt had suffered. I have to admit, I couldn't resist giving them a little rub, they were so big and sensitive. I carefully placed my shoes down onto the surface of the mud so that I could fondle both nipples together. I stirred the mud around with my feet as I did so. I could barely believe what was happening to me. How could it be that getting covered in mud was proving to be sexy? It was as though I was no longer in control of myself. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I knew that I had to get even muddier, in fact, I couldn't wait to really wallow in this stuff!

I took a few steps further into the now knee-deep ooze, every one accompanied by a loud sucking squelch as my feet withdrew. I was really enjoying the feeling of just wearing socks in the mud, it felt so nice in there! I looked around, just checking that nobody was watching me. I noticed that all the lights were off in the building, everyone had gone home. I wouldn't therefore have to go back inside for any reason. I suddenly felt totally liberated to do exactly what I wanted. And what I wanted was to get really, really muddy. As I stood there, I was totally filthy up to my knees. The bottom half of my smart work trousers were slathered in mud, obviously my socks were completely covered in it, and I had random splashes and blobs of it in other places including my face and even a bit in my hair. I was dirty enough that I might as well really drop any remaining inhibitions and succumb totally to the mud. I felt compelled to have a fully-clothed mud bath.

I felt a further heightening of the fizzing sensation in my belly and I could hear my heart thumping as I anticipated fully wallowing in this amazing mud. With an involuntary moan I dropped to my knees. This was an incredible sensation because I was almost standing in mud up to my knees before dropping down. So, when I sank in on my knees I effectively ended up waist deep in it. I was pretty much panting with the thrill of it as I felt the cold mud enveloping my thighs and bum and soaking into my smart trousers. There was no going back now, I was in some kind of heavenly muddy trance. I gleefully pushed my hands down into the mud and watched as my immaculate sleeves disappeared in the brown slop. I grabbed huge handfuls of it and massaged it over my breasts, covering my lovely shirt. My nipples by now were rock hard and I couldn't help but moan as my fingers slipped and squelched across the mud covered garment, picking out the highly sensitive protuberances as they did so. I couldn't help myself by now, I grabbed handful after handful of mud and massaged my breasts with it, it was slopping and slathering all over me and I was captivated by the cool, wet sliminess. Somehow, I managed to move, first one leg, then the other, and push them out in front of me. I was kind of sitting, in a shallow trough of mud, legs outstretched. I wanted to lay in it! And that's exactly what I did. I joyfully fell backwards into a prone position, on my back. I felt the back of my head come into contact with the thick mud. In an almost trance like state I suddenly became very enthusiastic about muddy hair. My hands went back in to acquire more mud and I started to run it through my long blonde hair, as if I was washing it. This was insane. But I was out of control. The buzzing in my tummy was becoming stronger all the time. It was very, very pleasant. I couldn't stop myself applying two more handfuls of mud to my actual face. I squelched it all over my cheeks and forehead. I was half laughing and half sighing in pleasure as I rolled over and over in the mud, pushing every part of me down into it. I wanted every single square millimetre of my clothing to be muddy. I felt my right hand involuntarily drawn towards my privates area as the fizzy sensations down there soared to fever pitch. I rubbed through my muddy trousers and just a few seconds later I felt the uncontrollable ecstasy of a massive, shuddering orgasm.

I laid, motionless, in the mud for a long time. When I finally opened my eyes I was a little shocked at myself for what I'd done. I was covered in mud. I mean completely. But I didn't care. That was probably the greatest thrill of my life so far. At this point I noticed my immaculate, spotless shoes still sitting where I'd carefully placed them on a firm area of mud, about six feet away from where I was wallowing. I had a little giggle to myself. It seemed a very long time ago that I thought I'd save them by just sacrificng a pair of socks! The clean shoes seemed almost unbelievably pointless now that I was so comprehensively filthy. I heaved myself out of the mud's grasp and struggled to my feet. I squelched over to the shoes and carefully picked them up with my muddy hands. And I went back to the start. By that, I mean I went back to the veranda. I was so drunk on this mud bathing fun that I thought it was unfair to not include my shoes. I stood on the veranda (leaving globules of mud and size 4.5 footprints all over it!) and slid my muddy socks into the immaculate shoes. It looked so funny to be wearing clean shoes with everything else so muddy! My feet felt so slippery, slimy and squelchy inside the shoes, but it was a nice, fun sensation. To my further surprise I could feel the return of the fizzing down below...

I walked across the veranda, back towards the locked building, then turned around. I simply ran, as fast as I could back in the direction of the mud. When I reached the edge of the veranda, I leapt as far as I could, and plunged back into the thick, knee deep ooze, shoes first! It was so exciting to watch my smart shoes disappear from sight into the quagmire. When I continued across the bog, the shoes were immediately pulled off my feet by the mud's suction. I didn't even manage one step with either foot before being back in just my socks! It felt so exciting and wonderful as my shoes came off that I found myself with a hand in the privates area. Before I knew what was happening to me I had fallen to my knees in the soft mud and my body was once again taken over by the ecstatic shuddering of another lengthy orgasm.

I wiped the mud off my (thankfully waterproof) watch and was stunned to discover that it was 2:30am. I had been captivated by this muddy playground for over six and a half hours! The cool, still, quiet planet was very welcoming however because I suddenly realised that my bag, containing my car keys was locked in the building. I was going to have to walk two miles home, covered head to toe in mud. I felt reasonably confident that I could do it without being seen at this hour, the route largely consisted of quiet roads. I went back to where I'd walked out of my bogged-down shoes, dug them out, and carried them across the remainder of the mud area, before putting them on and making my way home. To be completely honest I even enjoyed the calm walk home, the riskiness of being seen in that state was rather exciting.

I was very sad when they landscaped that area, I often stare wistfully out over it when working, and think back to that stolen night of muddy passion...