July 1

Sunday, the 1st of July, was the first Messy Party at the Wet Spot. I'd ended up with weird scheduling at my Other Job, so had worked Saturday, off Sunday, and then I will be back to work - all 12 hour shifts - Mon, Tues, Wed this holiday week prior to then having six days off. So, I figured I would sign up to DM the first few hours of the Messy Party, do some quiet duty, and then head on off to home and bed fairly early, to then get up early for work. Once again, no battleplan survives first contact.

I ran out mid Sunday to Home Depot, just for the helluvit and dropped ten bucks for what looked like a Devo costume - white disposable zip-up overalls, a head stocking, elastic booties, face mask and goggles... all from the house-painting section of the store. When I arrived at the Spot I hid my jeans et al in the office and got into my impromptu HazMat outfit and started being a host, barmaid, safety officer and whatever for this inaugural event. Let me describe the facility and supplies.

About half the main floor of the Wet Spot was covered in tarps, and two large wading pools were side to side. Rectangular, they were around knee high and maybe 5'x8', and - we found out - close enough to the spectator's seating that if you weren't speckled with something, you weren't really in attendance. The armpit-high counters looked like an industrial strength wet bar. The entire thing was covered with gallon jugs of various types of cooking oil, tubs of various flavored sherbet, cans of applesauce, squeeze tubes of lemon filling ... #10 sized cans of chocolate, vanilla, and tapioca pudding ... honey ... maple syrup ... canned whipping cream & cool whip both ... fudge sauce ... raspberry filling ... gads, there had to be dozens of containers, of every description, and also of every temperature and consistency. And I was the man in between the pools and the stuff. Hehehehehehe.

The entire night was sparsely attended, as it was really a last minute situation. Notice only went out a week or two ago, via email, and I'm sure that the attendance in the future will be much more respectable. Early on there were only two men, who stripped right down and got themselves into one of the pools. One was naked, one in a pair of transparent heavy plastic panties, so you know where most of the yucky stuff got stuck! I was pleased to serve the fellows with gunk for probably an hour, one flavor after another. In between my servings they would explore, rub one another, slather, goop, scoop, bubble, roll around, slide, sputter - I need a whole new thesaurus and it was great boy/boy energy.

By about the time the guys had settled down to a little bit of slow sliding and yuckypoo snuggling, two women had come in with their own supplies. They started with mutual body painting, and did imprints on large pieces of poster board, and set those aside for later. They retired to the shower to start getting all the paint off and when they returned they took over the second wading pool. I started bringing over the same type goodies that the two fellows had enjoyed. The girls thoroughly explored and exploited each other, getting rapidly and messily into wrestling, grappling, kissing, everythinging, with progressively worse and worse combinations of "lube" poured over, on, in between, under, and all around their bodies.

All was well until a slippery foot and gravity struck... and I found myself upside down in the bottom of a very very slippery pile of wiggling womanhood! My feet were up in the air, my face was covered in puddles of gunk that I could no more see through than a brick wall, and I felt my protective outfit being ripped from my body, shred by shred. I reached up to grab whatever was within reach and I think it was a boob or an elbow or the pool side or who knows what... and everything was greased, cackling, and moving. I managed to have someone pull my shoes off that I had to wear to my Other Job in the morning, and we settled down to some of the most unthinkably messy sluthood I've ever had the chance to indulge in. I think we have a whole new concoction for lube, although we'd never be able to duplicate it. At one time or a dozen, each of the three of us was thoroughly fisted or manipulated or mauled or pleasured or - hell, I don't know what you call it. It was dirty, it was messy, it was sexy, and it was one helluva lot of fun. I truly have no idea how long the debauchery went on but we fooled around until we were totally exhausted.

Once we got towels tossed in to clear the sludge out of our eyes the next difficult task was figuring out how to roll our fatigued bodies one by one out of the pools onto the tarp and then virtually crawling on our dangerously slippery feet to the shower room. Best as I can figure we must have spent damn near another hour in the shower room doing a three-sided shower, shampoo, scrub, shower, shampoo, scrub - and a goodly little bit of pinch and tickle along the way.

Next time they schedule one of these parties I'll certainly be planning on attending. The only fine tuning I've figured out for next time? Q-Tips. Despite best efforts, I was driving in to work Monday morning and a finger rubbing an itch in my ear came out with chocolate pudding on it. A lingering messy reminder that life is often unexpectedly damn good.

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