I met a random girl with an identical fetish. [FF]

I closed the lid of my laptop, thankful that another day of work is done. While working from home is pretty awesome, the thin line between work and personal life tends to become blurred, making it really hard to relax afterwards.

I filled myself a cold glass of water and walked out to my balcony. It was a late, summer afternoon, so the sun was still up — and there was not a cloud in sight. In the distance, the sea loomed over the horizon, perfectly calm — no wind.

— I should go for a swim. — I thought.

But I wasn’t thinking of an ordinary swim. You see, I have a fetish which is popularly called *wetlook*. In essence, I get turned on when I’m swimming or bathing with my clothes on.

Really, *really* turned on.

The feeling is impossible to describe to someone who has never experienced it — words simply don’t do it justice. It’s incredibly sensual. It defies logic and reason. It feels better than sex.

I attempted to rationalize it countless times, but it’s really hard to pinpoint why exactly I find it arousing — perhaps it is the fact that I enjoy the sensation of wet clothes wrapping around me as I swim, or perhaps it is the fact that I am doing something naughty, subverting and defying social norms. Or perhaps is something I can’t really put into words.

I opened my closet, pondering what to wear. I took out some T-shirts, shorts, leggings and a few summer dresses, laying them out on my bed.

— It’s pretty hot outside, so definitely nothing too heavy. — I thought.

I settled for a blue T-shirt tucked into black denim shorts, along with some thin tights and running shoes. I kept my underwear on.

Once I picked out some spare clothes to change into, along with a towel and my bag, I set out for the beach. As I was walking, the closer I drew to the sea, the more restless I grew. I took a deep breath, running my free hand over the front of my shirt, imagining what getting it wet would be like.

After a while, I finally got to the beach. Putting my things down, I headed for the sea, fully dressed.

I waded up to my knees, and then stopped to get adjusted to the water.

After a brief delay, I felt the water fill my running shoes, soaking my tights. I wiggled my toes, feeling the wet, thin, silky fabric wrapped around them.

Then I waded into the water completely. As I went into the front stroke, I felt my T-shirt flutter around me, caressing my body with every stroke, brushing against my black undershirt. My bra became heavy and tight, awkwardly shifting as I swam.

I looked around.

The beach was full of people, but I didn’t really care. In fact, their reactions almost aroused me further, in a weird way. I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to — I was a bad girl.

I swam over to the shallows to rest for a bit. As I emerged, my blue T-shirt, now dark and shiny, wrapped around me like a glove, with every wrinkle glistening in the sun. Streams of water were flowing down my curves, right into the denim shorts my T-shirt was tucked into. From the shorts, the water dripped all over my tights and down into the shallows.

I gasped in joy.

I sat down into the shallows, so that the water was reaching my shoulders — one could easily notice I was fully clothed, if nearby.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

— Hey, excuse me. Do you speak english? — a girl, about my age, was standing over me, up to her knees in the water.

She was wearing a black bikini bottom and a black soccer jersey. From the looks of it, she had been swimming in it.

— Oh, hey. Yeah. — I replied, turning over to her.

— Do you mind if I ask you a question? — she said.

— Not at all. Go ahead. — I said.

She smiled.

— Why… are you swimming in clothes? — she asked, smiling.

I glanced at her wet soccer jersey, wondering if I’m going to spill my beans.

Oh, what the hell.

— Because I enjoy the sensation. — I say, wondering if she’s going to think I’m insane.

The girl stared for a second, then laughed and sat down into the sea next to me, soaking her T-shirt.

— Don’t tell anyone, but me too. — she said, pointing to her submerged jersey.

Holy hell, she was hot.

— I’m Hanna, by the way. — she said.

— Lotte. Nice to meet you. — I replied.

We both kind of looked at each other for a moment, and then Hanna spoke up.

— Wanna go for a swim? — she asked, standing up.

— Sure, why not. — I replied.

We threw ourselves into the front stroke, two fully dressed weirdos. As we were swimming, we talked for hours, touching almost every possible topic related to our thing. Finally, we swam over to a small, isolated cove, and sat down in the shallows, with water up to our breasts.

— What’s the most extreme outfit you went swimming in? — Hanna asked me.

— Depends on what you mean by extreme. — I replied after a short pause.

Hanna giggled.

— I mean, mine was an evening dress at a party, for example. You know, a tight one, with short, puffy sleeves? Oh, and dress shoes. — she said.

I found the thought of her bathing in a dress extremely arousing. Looking down on her soaking wet jersey, I noticed the outlines of her bikini poking through. Then I looked at her face again, and noticed she was smiling, biting her lip.

— Close your eyes. — she said.

I did it without question.

Then I felt her warm, wet lips touch mine. Her drenched soccer jersey pressed against my soaking wet T-shirt. As we locked into a kiss, I felt her bare legs wrap around my tights.

I was never coming so hard in my life.

Moaning, I ran my hands all over her dripping shirt. Still locked into a kiss, she returned the favor. The I saw her right hand fall into the water with a splash.

I felt the button on my denim shorts get undone, and then I felt her fingers slowly caressing me through my submerged tights. As she was poking deeper, I could feel my tights inside me.

I returned the favor, making her scream.

I have no idea how long we have fucked each other. Hours felt like minutes. I never wanted it to stop. And yet, the sun had set down, and it became cold.

We waded onto the strand, sopping wet, barely dragging ourselves, drained form the experience.

Picking up our stuff, we exchanged numbers — because we definitely need to do this again.

And tomorrow is a new day.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wl1heg/i_met_a_random_girl_with_an_identical_fetish_ff