Mud Angel Ch. 02

Sorry about the long wait! However, I am planning on making a third part of this series as well, so look forward to that.

As always, feedback is appreciated.

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Roughly a year ago, when Nick and Claire had moved in together, she had dug a large, shallow hole in a clearing near a stream in the woods behind their house, and mixed the dirt with water from the stream to make her own mud bath. Over the year, she had used it often, many afternoons Nick was away she would lounge in it. It was her private spa, as the mud really did make her skin feel smooth and soft. She kept telling herself that it was why she kept going back to the mud, over and over, but deep down she knew it was for another reason. While rubbing the mud into her skin, its slippery, erotic feel would cause her hand to slip to her crotch, and she would fuck herself silly. The pleasure it brought her made her desperate to tell Nick, but the filthy strangeness made her too scared to do so. But that had all changed when they went on a hike together along the Meramec River a few weeks ago, and upon spying a large patch of mud, she just had to tell him.

And really, it couldn't have gone any better. Nick was still accepting of her when she explained her fetish, they both got to fuck each other, and by the end, they were covered so thickly in mud that they barely looked human. A good day, to her. After that, life had gone on normally, and Claire took the opportunity to show him her mud pit, but neither of them had gotten muddy since.

Today, July fifteenth, was her birthday, and Nick had left and told her to meet him at the mud pit an hour later. And it didn't take someone as smart as her to figure out what was going on. Giddily, she dug through her dresser to find something to wear. The last time they had gotten muddy together, clean-up had been an absolute nightmare. When by herself, she just went in naked, and just wore an oversized shirt to cover herself while walking there, but on their hike, she had been wearing a cotton tank top and leggings, which was all but impossible to rinse the mud out of in the river. Even though the exhibitionist in her wanted to, they couldn't ditch their clothes and walk back naked, so the last three miles of their hike had been pretty painful, wearing heavy, wet, and dirty clothes. She didn't intend to repeat that mistake, but getting her clothes muddy was half the fun, and she did want to give Nick a little bit of a show, so she dug through her underwear drawer, and at the very bottom, found an old light pink sports bra that all the elasticity had long since been stretched out of, and a pair of simple white floral-patterned panties that she didn't care too much about either. On top of them, she put on black booty shorts and an old oversized white t-shirt. She threw her hair into a quick braid and briefly considered putting on makeup to look a little better for Nick, but she decided that it was her birthday, and she could look however she wanted. After all, his birthday was only nine days after hers, so she might have another chance to get all prettied up for him later.

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Nick, wearing a plain white t-shirt, jeans, and muddy rubber boots, sat on a log near the edge of the mud pit, patiently waiting for Claire to arrive. He had spent the last hour digging into the soft soil of the clearing to make the area of mud large enough for both of their bodies. Between the work of shoveling the dirt and hauling water from the small creek nearby to mix with it to make mud, he was frankly exhausted. He was glad that he had brought a bottle of water and that he had a few minutes to rest because he knew it was going to take a lot of energy to satisfy Claire.

Now that he thought about it retrospectively, he wasn't surprised about Claire's fetish for getting messy. Despite her gorgeous, feminine body and, he smiled to himself, her fondness of the color pink, she had always been quite the tomboy, who would rather go camping than get her nails done. Now all those things she did that he just thought was her being her weird self were rather subtle hints, like every time she saw a puddle she would giggle childishly and walk right through the middle of it, or how she would try to touch his face when her hands were covered in black grease from working on her truck, much to his protest, or how her clothes always seemed to be stained with more dirt than could be considered normal when she was done tending the garden. He knew Claire was quite embarrassed about her fetish, and didn't tell him until very recently, so maybe she was trying to initiate something without having to explain herself. Either way, he thought, he was glad that she told him, as the fewer secrets in their relationship, the better, and to his surprise, he quite actually enjoyed getting all muddy.

A few minutes later he heard leaves crunching softly and sticks snapping under someone's footsteps in the woods behind him. He suddenly thought nervously, what if that wasn't Claire? What was he supposed to say to whoever it was, about why he had made a giant mud pit in the middle of the woods?

But he was relieved to see it was actually his girlfriend, walking gracefully as always, appearing to wear only a large, stained white t-shirt and a pair of sandals.

"Hey, birthday girl," Nick greeted.

"Hi!" she responded happily, kicking off her shoes and running over to where he was sitting to hug him. He kissed her once on each cheek and then held her head in his hands, gazing into her sage-colored eyes. Every time he saw her, he fell in love with her over and over again.

"You look so beautiful," he admired dreamily.

"Oh, you're so silly," she retorted, giggling behind her hand.

Nick laughed. "No, you can look gorgeous even covered in mud." He trailed off, watching her stare curiously at him. Her beautiful lips, in a constant playful smirk, and her eyes, seeming as if they were always looking for trouble, made his heart flutter every time she looked at him. The morning sun streamed into the meadow through the vibrant green leaves of the trees, shining lusciously on her face and highlighting the faint golden hairs on her forearms. He loved this feeling: Being out in nature in the summer morning, the smell of sap and rich soil in the air, the leaves stirring and the flowers dancing in the breeze, the birds chirping as they through the trees... and at the center of it all, his angel.

Claire giggled at the way he was smiling stupidly at her. She stroked his hair and turned around, accidentally smacking him with her braid, to examine the work he had done on the mud pit. It looked like he had dug it out to be twice as large, a roughly circular shape almost twelve feet across and who knew how deep, filled with wet, light brown clay and surrounded by the tall, yellow grass of the clearing, flanked by both large and small deciduous trees. Birds chirped happily and fluttered from tree to tree in the woods, the sun shining down warmly from high above. She looked back at him and glanced down at his mud-covered rubber boots, smirking.

"Have you been having fun without me?" she teased, wiping away some of the mud from his boot with her finger.

"I guess so," he laughed. "Just a lot of digging..."

Claire then embraced him in a tight hug and shoved him down to the ground. She wrapped her arms around his body and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Did you really do all this for me?" she asked.

"Well, yeah... I mean, I kind of felt bad, and I thought your birthday would be the perfect opportunity to make it up to you."

"What do you have to feel bad about?"

His cheeks heated slightly. "Well, last time... I was really disgusted by the mud most of the time, and I thought I could have made it more enjoyable for you... Plus, I got to orgasm twice, but I only made you orgasm once."

"Oh, you're such an idiot!" she laughed and playfully swatted him on the shoulder. "This is why I love you so much."

She hugged him tighter, firmly planting her lips on his and pulling his head closer. His world immediately sprang into sensations and colors at the feel of her soft body squeezed to him and her wet lips hungrily and desperately sucking at him. Nick reciprocated her desire and hugged her close. They made low moaning sounds as they kissed, and their eyes closed in pleasure. Her dark brown hair tickled his face; it was intoxicating, addictive, and smelled like earth after a rainstorm. Claire tried to get her lips even closer to his, by tightly squeezing their heads together until their noses mashed into each other's face and their teeth clacked together and their tongues filled each other's mouth. But neither cared, there was something so wonderful that came from such sloppy, desperate kissing.

All he could feel was her warm, confident mouth and her warm, languid body pressed up against him, her hand that she had just wrapped gracefully around his neck, sensually choking him. His hands fluttered over her body like butterflies, her thighs, ass, back, and shoulders. Somehow she had taken off her shirt, and he could feel her soft breasts pushing into his chest, and he traced his finger around the edge of her pink sports bra, making her shiver delightedly. She crushed the full weight of her body against him and continued to kiss him deeply like this for perhaps another twenty seconds until the lack of oxygen became too much to bear, and she reluctantly pulled her lips away from his.

Nick groaned gently as she pulled away, his eyes still closed as he laid back in the grass, inhaling in small, shaking gasps.

"Wow, angel." He plucked a small white flower from the ground and tucked it behind her ear.

"Thanks," she giggled.

He held out his arms, and she crawled in with a faint, happy giggle, snuggling up to his chest. She felt soft and warm against his body, like a weighted blanket, and he could swear that they were made for each other, based on the way their bodies perfectly fit together. Claire shifted her weight and leaned her head on his shoulder. He gingerly traced the blue vein on the pale underside of her arm with his fingertip, just a feather's touch that sent shivers throughout her whole body.

"Beautiful, beautiful girl," he murmured into her ear. "You have no idea how lucky I feel to have you. You're so smart, and funny, and sexy... you're such an incredible girl. You know I will always love you, my angel."

"Awww... I love you, too."

He chuckled, continuing to pet her and massage her. Claire always pretended to be tough and strong, but really you just had to give her snuggles and compliments, and her bravado would melt like ice cream on a warm summer day.

He rubbed her pale foot, kissing each of her cute toes one by one, worshipping her body.

They sat there together for a few moments, just listening to the birdsong and the faint sound of each other's breathing.

"Hey," said Claire, stroking his cheek, "I came here to get muddy."

"Of course, angel," he said with an amused chuckle.

He heaved them both up with a grunt and helped her take off her black shorts. Despite being her boyfriend for almost a year now, he thought he would never get used to the sight of her standing in front of him in just her underwear. Grinning stupidly, again, he picked her up into his arms and stood on the edge of the pit, rocking her back and forth, building up momentum to toss her into the mud.

"Ready?"

"Yep!"

"One... Two... Three!"

Suddenly Claire was airborne, an exciting thrill shooting through her, and just as suddenly... splat! She emitted a girly shriek as she landed on her ass into the creamy, light brown mud, staring at him with a mixture of shock and glee. She shifted her weight, feeling the cool, silky mud squeeze between her ass cheeks and squish in her hands, giggling delightedly. Claire loved the snug, squishy embrace of the mud gently squeezing her ass and thighs, and the cool drops of mud that had splattered onto the rest of her skin. It was such a strange sensation to sink into the earth, to be swallowed by the yielding ground, the uncontrollable mess sticking to her wherever she touched it. The way that the mud stuck to her was a sensation like no other. It was heavy, sticky, and wet, and she got such a great feeling of rebelliousness from getting dirty. The mud felt like home to her.

"This feels so good," she sighed happily. "Mud is good for the soul, y'know."

"Definitely," he laughed.

She rolled over in the mud, smearing her forearms and legs and thoroughly ruining her panties, then stalked toward him on all fours, intending to pull him in with her. She reached out with a muddy hand to grab his ankle, but he was quicker and grabbed her first around the midsection, and in one swift motion tried to pull her out and fling her back in. However, he greatly underestimated the suction of the mud, and when Claire's body didn't budge, he stumbled forward, tripped, and fell into the muck, just barely catching himself with his arms, which squelched deep up to the elbow. Nick gasped in surprise as he tried to process what just happened. Claire snickered at his embarrassing predicament.

"That wasn't supposed to happen..." he groaned.

She laughed with him, but ever the opportunist, she took the moment that his forearms were stuck fast in the mud to try and force his face into it, placing her hands on the back of his head and giving him a strong push.

"Ah! You bitch!" he cried as he desperately tried to resist. He strained his neck against her weight and hurriedly tried to pull his arms out and escape. But Claire was relentless and kept trying to force him down as his arms slowly, painfully slithered out of the soft mud.

"C'mon, just give up already!" she taunted. She continued pushing until his nose was only a few inches from the surface of the mud, but finally, his arms came out with a wet hissing sound, and he scrambled away on his arms and knees to the solid ground. He laughed, examining himself. Layers of sticky, glistening light brown clay clung to his hands and forearms like gloves, and the front of his jeans were coated with a thick solid layer, making them stick tightly to his legs. But actually, it felt quite good. He had grown to like the wet, clinging sensation of the cool mud on his skin.

He heaved himself up to a standing position as the mud dripped off his hands.

"I don't know if I should join you again..." he teased.

"Okay, I won't try to push your face in. I promise," she said with a pout.

"Whatever you say..."

He jumped in right next to her, plunging in almost to the tops of his boots, but then lost his balance and fell onto his ass, making them both burst out laughing.

"Shit," he chuckled. He leaned backward on his hands and attempted to remove his boots from the grip of the mud. After much struggling, they emerged from the surface absolutely plastered with the adherent clay.

Claire giggled and helped him to pull off his ruined boots and socks. He slowly set his feet down in the mud, relishing the sensation of the mud squeezing between his toes and squishing beneath his soles. Eyes closed in delight, he sighed happily.

"How does it feel?" she smirked.

"It feels like I'm at a spa." Even though mud had taken on quite a sexual connotation for him—which sounded ridiculous, honestly—he found it to be enjoyable regardless of any sexual undertones. Now that, this time, he had actually prepared to get dirty, he found the mud fun also for its squishy messiness, the wet, squelching sounds it made as he moved, and of course, the novelty of doing something different with his lover.

She cupped his chin gently and pressed her lips to his. "I like you better when you're dirty, baby."

"You too, angel," he murmured, "you're such a beautiful girl. I love you so much."

She smiled sweetly, smearing mud around his jaw while continuing to kiss him. He placed the palms of his hands on her soft breasts, which fit perfectly into his palms as if they were made to fit together.

"Mmmm, you like those titties, don't you?"

He groaned happily, then started to squeeze them and rub her nipples gently with his thumbs.

"Oh..." she gasped at the sudden pleasure, her hand around his chin locking up. He moved his thumbs in small circles around her nipples, rubbing the mud in through her bra; his firm grip sending sparks of pleasure down her nerves. He leaned his forehead contentedly against hers.

She desperately absorbed all the pleasure he was giving her, but it was quickly becoming too much to bear. "That's enough," she breathed, pushing his hands away. He pulled away from her, frowning. But she smiled at him, reaching to his face to wipe away a glob of mud on his lower lip.

"What?" he asked.

"I can still see clean skin," she said, "we've gotta get muddier first."

Suddenly Nick grinned. "I'm okay with that. It's your birthday, I'll do anything for you." But he already loved her the way she was: The mud that was sensually smeared and splashed across her body, its glistening sheen highlighting her curves and muscles, and just the simple eroticism of the female body covered in filth. But if she wanted to get muddier, he wasn't complaining.

She grinned back at him, and wrenched his body down towards her, twisting behind him to force him into the mud. He yelped in surprise, but quickly realized what she was doing. The mud was slick and he was easily able to escape her grip and roll over so that he was laying on his back on top of her. Nick tried to roll over and pin her down, but she slithered out from under him. They rolled and thrashed around for a bit, his jeans making it relatively difficult to move, but eventually, he managed to get a grasp on her slimy, muddy leg, and sent her crashing unceremoniously back down into the mud. Taking advantage of her flustered state, he pushed her down onto her back and clambered on top of her, pinning her down between his thighs.

"No fair!" she spluttered up at him, but she was laughing, clearly enjoying herself.

"No fair?" he asked. "I'm trying to wrestle you while wearing jeans, and you're just wearing this," he said, plucking at her sports bra.

"Hey!" she cried, playfully swatting his hand away. He smiled innocently.

The mud had now coated her almost completely, smeared across her limbs in varying degrees; only her face and neck remained completely clean. He grinned at her, offering a hand to help pull her up. She clasped on and he hauled her out of the sucking mud, revealing her backside to be plastered in the stuff and sticky clumps matted in her hair.

Nick hadn't escaped from the grasp of the mud either, he was also coated head to toe in heavy, sticky, muck, somehow smooth and gritty at the same time. The feeling of it clinging to him was simultaneously disgusting and immensely freeing. It was strange to willingly get so incredibly, ridiculously filthy, and just embrace it, instead of stressing about cleaning up. The weight of it soaked into his clothes almost made it difficult to stand.

"That was fun," he smirked.

"No, we need a rematch," she demanded.

He was bigger and heavier than Claire, but she was stronger than him, so any mud wrestling should have been fair. But his thought process was immediately interrupted and he found himself lying down in the mud with Claire on top of him. They squirmed and slithered around until eventually they were both standing, hands on each other's shoulders, pushing each other and spinning around, but neither could gain the upper hand, their muscles rippling under the sheen of the mud. Mud wrestling was exhausting work: It sucked at their feet and clung avidly to their arms and legs, making it hard to move around very quickly, and the layers of it stuck to their skin and clothing surely weighed an additional ten pounds. Deviously, she hooked her foot around his ankle, making him lose balance and collapse heavily into the mud. Before he knew what was happening she pounced on him, flipping him over and driving her knee into his back. He strained against her to keep his head from sinking into the mud.