When I was young, I disliked community swimming pools. It wasn’t that I hated the water – I loved it. It was just the thought that the same tepid water that was enveloping me in its lukewarm embrace was doing the same to everyone else currently in the water…and had done the same to everybody who had been in the water before. The same water that was gently caressing my balls had done so to every other Tom, Harry, and Dick (or Tom’s hairy dick) and the vagina of every Angela, Priya, and Kat (or Angela’s private kitty).
It felt like I was simultaneously going down on hundreds of people. There’d be this strange aftertaste in my mouth after accidentally swishing some of the water in my mouth between breaths, and on occasion, I’d have to pull out a stray pubic hair from my mouth. It’s disgusting, but at least it wasn’t the beach.
You’d think the beach would be so much better. With all that water, everyone’s “taste” would be diluted to the point that you’d only get a mouthful of salty water. But is it? You have millions of people entering the ocean all around the world. We dump a bunch of shit into the oceans, millions of animals live in the oceans, which means they piss, shit, and cum in there, and then you have all these people dipping their privates into the water. It’s perfect for those interested in kink because you get to simultaneously go down on millions of people as well as other species. Those interested in bestiality must be jizzing themselves just thinking about it.
I like to compare people’s willingness to put their head into the water (and the type of water) as a reflection of how much of a pervert they are. Those that love swimming or diving in the ocean are on one side of the pervert spectrum while those that tend to stay away from the water seem to stray more to the prude side of things.
Take Isis, for example. She can’t swim and has no real interest in swimming. She hates putting her head in the water. She claims it’s because she doesn’t want to get her hair wet because it’s such a hassle to wash, dry, and brush, but I suspect it’s because she’s a prude.
I have this friend, Jarrod, who loves spending time at the beach and swimming in the ocean. He’s also a notorious womanizer. His favorite activity, other than fucking, is going down on a woman.
“I love the taste…and the smell. It’s just magnificent,” he would say. “It makes me so thirsty. I can go down on a woman for hours, just eating and drinking her out.” He’d say this to me so close as he’d be breathing heavily. He had a unique tang or musk to him of sweat and other juices.
Jarrod loved going to the beach. He loved spending time in the water because “it reminded me of a woman’s pussy.”
“But it’s salty,” I’d counter. “Like cum.”
“I just imagine it’s my own cum.”
Jarrod seems to lie somewhere on the pervert spectrum.
Isis met him once when he stopped by the house. She was not happy to meet him. “He’s disgusting,” she told me after he had left. “It seemed like he was undressing me with his eyes while he was talking to me. He seems like such a pervert.”
Jarrod just seemed like a normal guy to me, but to a prude, everyone’s a pervert.
I’ve wondered where I fall on the prude-pervert spectrum. I figure that since I’m willing to swim in a community pool, but unwilling to spend much time at the beach, I’m probably somewhere in the middle.
I think with age though, I’ve grown more prudish. As a kid, I had no problems swimming without goggles or swallowing the heavily chlorinated and contaminated water. Now though, the very thought of that was just disgusting. It was bad enough that my head was in the water; it felt like I was getting tea-bagged with every stroke. But swallowing?
I told Isis about my prude-pervert theory one day. She thought it was ridiculous. That is, until we met up with one of her friends for lunch (this was all pre-COVID, when meeting up for lunch wasn’t the risk it is nowadays), Terry. Terry was a thirty-six-year-old single woman who still lived with her parents, but went out every night. Isis had always theorized that Terry was a slut because Terry would always be posting racy pictures of herself on Facebook and Instagram. And every night, she would always be with a different man. Last Thursday, it was Mario. Steve was on Friday, Jury on Saturday, and Dean on Sunday.
After lunch with Terry, Isis mentioned that when they had gone to the bathroom together, Terry was talking about how she was excited to go to the beach the next day.
“She talked about how she loved the taste of the ocean water because it reminded her of a man’s cum!” Isis exclaimed. I knew she was a slut!
“Not a slut. A pervert,” I reminded her.
One more data point in support of my theory of the correlation between water and the pervert-prude spectrum.
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