'Soaked'

She'd always thought descriptions of 'being soaked' were ridiculous. Sure, she got a little lubricated when she masturbated, but never even enough to leave a tiny wet spot on her panties.

Until she discovered edging.

It was like turning on a tap between her legs. If she didn't cum, her pussy stayed wet. Within minutes of touching it was seeping out of her, and half an hour meant she was wet from clit to the small of her back, her ass cheeks sliding over each other as she moved.

She gave up on wearing panties most of the time. They would wick more out of her, leaving dark stains on her trousers and dresses.

And despite the inconvenience, she adored it. She loved feeling ready to be fucked. She loved her wet, slippery secret. She couldn't keep her fingers away. And more, an addiction to tasting herself, from little finger sucks to scooping it up, rubbing it over the rest of her body. Her stomach, thighs and tits would be shiny with it by the end of an edging session.

But that still wasn't enough. She craved to leave her mark. Taking every chance to lift the little skirts she almost entirely wore now and rub herself on things, leaving her scent, her wetness. Claiming it as hers. She was a bitch in heat and she loved it. Her lips were constantly glossy now, topped up whenever they got dry. Planting friendly little kisses on her friends' cheeks was a most taboo thrill, until her constant horniness turned them into proper kisses. One after another they discovered her secret as she whispered, 'Feel how wet I am.'

And they asked her how come, and she showed them.

Now they're all soaked, and making more converts every day.

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