|
|
Stories about Wet and Messy Fetishism
edited by Harry Merkin
This
page is under construction, awaiting submissions from creative persons
who practice Wet and Messy Fetishism.
Submission information, copyright matters, and terms of usage are being prepared.
Enjoy this excerpt, written by Harry Merkin, from our main site:
"A guy at work told me about a party at his house the following Saturday
night. Knowing how he dressed and the music he liked, I expected a hard core death
metal crowd and I wasn’t wrong. The music was ear splitting and the
cannabinoid fog was super potent. I got a drink and went out to the
backyard. There was a group on the back patio and a girl sitting on a
picnic table about 20 feet away. I went toward her and asked, “Could I
bring you something to drink.”
”It’s awful in there. Please stay. I can share your drink.”
We were still talking at 1:00 AM when the friend she had come with
appeared and said she was leaving. Julie told her she was staying.
Soon after, someone popped the top of a shaken beer can under the single
porch light and the bulb exploded. Now that we were sitting in the
dark, we began to make out in earnest on the table. Sometime after 3:00
AM she announced, “You’ll need to take me home,” as she put her bra and
blouse back on.
We undressed and fell asleep on her bed. We woke up near noon and again
locked lips. In less than an hour, we went from bed to bedlam and were
having sex along with breakfast in bed. She had yogurt with honey,
blueberries and granola. I found two deviled eggs, smoked salmon and
jalapeño cream cheese along with a jar of capers and a couple boxes of
crackers in her kitchen. The best flavor combination was licking her
clit after a bite of salmon. Her pussy was repulsive after a deviled egg
and it took several capers to cleanse my palate. Julie liked my dick
with yogurt and honey. I had to restart intercourse a few times to get
all the granola crumbs out of the condom. After our orgasms, it looked
like we had been in a food fight. She insisted we thoroughly clean our
feet to get to the shower without leaving food-prints.
After more naked fooling around on her sofa, Julie made me help her wash
the king size sheets and mattress protector. She had to wash everything
three times to get most of our sex stains out.
Just so you know. An early supper of Chinese take-out consumed at a
lovely, mid-century-modern laundromat should never be called “a date”.
If you repeat my mistake, you’ll get a vivid facial demonstration of,
“to glower” ..."
These
short stories are
works of fiction. Names,
characters, places and
incidents either are the
product of the author’s
vivid imagination or are
used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual
human beings, living or
dead, business
enterprises, events or
locales is entirely
coincidental.
|
