Over 6 Years of Fun in Wet Clothes

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Wet Weekend

Posted by Neil (January 2003)

When I was about 12 years old my parents built a log house in a private area totally surrounded by a State Wildlife Preserve. For an outdoor type it had everything; woods, hills, and even two ponds and a small lake. One pond had been excavated deeply to be a swimming and diving area. One pond was only about 6 feet deep and we used it primarily to play with an inflatable raft that our friends had.

My first wet clothing experience happened at the instigation of my friend, Scott. His parents had very few rules for him when they were in the area. He wore whatever clothes he put on in the morning all day long, and it didn't matter what he did to them, he wasn't allowed to change into clean clothes. They had the idea that this would encourage him to stay clean, but he was a Wacky Wet fan before there was such a thing. There were few days that he didn't come back to his parent's cabin totally trashed, but they were really cool about it and just dismissed it with the comment "Boys will be boys."

My parents were the other extreme and made me change even if I just got a little dusty. I was quite jealous of Scott because I was all boy too and wanted to do all the things that he did without getting yelled at about ruining my clothes.

My day finally came when Scott's parents asked my parents to let me go with them a couple of days early because of a meeting that my Dad had back at home. They agreed and my Mom packed my usual big suitcase of clothes. On the way to the cabin, Scott's parents told me that the rules for the weekend were going to be a little different from what I was used to. My rules for the weekend were the same as Scott's. We started talking about all the things we wanted to do the next day.

The next day started out a little cool so we wore heavier clothes than we normally would have. Scott was wearing an old pair of jeans, briefs, trainers, white socks, a T-shirt, and to top it off an oversized local college sweatshirt. I was wearing a pair of denim overalls, briefs, trainers, socks, and a long sleeved T-shirt.

We decided to take a hike after breakfast to the waterfall that was below the lake. This was a couple of miles from the cabin and involved some steep hills. We got down the side of the hill a couple hundred feet down stream from the falls and realized how quickly the temperature was climbing. What we didn't realize was the amount of mud that was there as well.

We were looking up at the top of the falls when Scott stepped into mud that came just above his left knee. "I bet your Mom will nail you for this," I said. "Getting wet is one thing, but coming home with this much mud will get you in trouble." Scott just smiled. "Nope, they won't say a thing, besides I'll wash most of the mud off by then. So I think I'll just see how much mud there is here." He turned and put his other leg in an even deeper spot, about mid-thigh.

It was at this point that I noticed a definite stiffness in my underwear. I wasn't very familiar with the sensation, but I knew it felt good and I liked it. Scott continued to explore, but it turned out that he had stepped into the deepest part of the bog. He said that I should try it, but years of being taught that getting dirty is a bad thing was firmly in place. Scott called me a baby, but I yelled back that I wasn't the one with wet and messy pants. He told me that I hadn't seen anything yet. He just held my eyes as he stepped back toward the spot that he had first stepped in. He pulled off his sweatshirt and threw it on the bank. He then stepped back into the hole, took a couple of deep breaths, and without looking away, sat down in the mud!

Scott laughed at me and told me to join him, but I just couldn't, even though I wanted too more than anything else at that moment. He stood up and went to the bottom of the falls and let the water clean most of the mud off. It took several minutes and several attempts to get me to join him, but my fear held firm.

We soon left to go back up the hill with Scott totally soaked except for the sweatshirt which was showing definite wet patches. By the time we got to the top, I was getting very warm. Added to that was my anger at myself for being such a coward about the mud and the waterfall. Scott was no longer dripping and seemed to be determined to take my mind off of me and to just have fun.

We rounded the curve and saw the ponds. I told Scott that I wanted to go change into my swim suit and take a dip. He told me that he needed to dry off a little more before he could go in (I don't know why I believed that.) We decided to inflate the two man raft and paddle around the shallow pond for a while and let Scott dry off in the sun.

What I didn't know was that the raft had a little hole in it that leaked when two kids were in it. I got in first and since Scott was still damp, he pushed us off. I was getting hot and so I took off my shirt and threw it back to the shore. My initial experience with wet clothes was destined to be when the shirt hit the reeds on the edge and fell back into the lake. Scott started laughing as the shirt sank. I wanted to go get it, but he pointed out that the pond was shallow and it would be there whenever we got back. Besides, he promised to jump in for it if I couldn't reach it. I agreed to this and we continued on to the middle.

About the time we got to the middle I realized that my rear was feeling damp. I looked at the bottom of the raft and saw that there was a thin layer of water. "What's going on?" Scott just smiled at me and said, "I forgot to tell you that the raft has a small hole in it. I knew that you wanted to get wet and muddy at the falls, but you were afraid to. Now, you are going down in the water and there is nothing you can do but enjoy it!" I hated to admit it, but I was really liking the way the lapping water felt. That funny feeling in my underwear had returned and I was still enjoying the sensations. Scott asked me if I was mad and I said that I wasn't, that getting wet in my clothes felt real nice.

"Well, let's see how this feels." He then removed the stopper and let the air out of the raft. As I paddled frantically back to the shore, Scott just kept laughing. "You swim like a fish, what are you scared of." I said, "My parents will kill me for getting my clothes wet like this." Scott just laughed again and said: "We are here with my parents and they don't care about your wet clothes." I suddenly realized that he was right. So in the spirit of the moment I lunged forward at Scott and turned the deflating raft over, dumping us totally in the water. We stood up and I now realized that I was intoxicated with the moment. We were close to the bank and I found my shirt in the reeds and put it back on with a shrug.

We played the rest of the afternoon and, sure enough, when we went back for dinner, the only thing that I was asked was, "Did you two have fun today?" I answered "I think it was my best day ever!" They did get better after that though because Scott's parents were able to convince my parents that making me change clothes so much at the lake was ridiculous, so they adopted the same rules for me. This became the start of many wet and muddy adventures over many years to come.