Get Me Wet Quotes & Sayings

Toasted almond pancakes. Sweet soft 'okays'. Makin' me laugh more in a few weeks than I have in decades. 'Yes, Daddys' I feel in my dick. The first voicemail you left me, babe. I saved it and I listen to it once a day. If I lose focus, I see you on your back, knees high, legs wide, offering your sweet, wet pussy to me. You smile at me in bed every time you wander outta my bedroom in my shirts, my tees, or your work clothes and honest to Christ, it sets me up for the day. And no matter what shit goes down, I get through it knowin' whichever bed I climb into at night, you're in it ready to snuggle into me or give me what I wanna take. Your girl, a headache. You, never. And in a life that's been full of headaches, babe, having that, there is no price tag. You gotta get it and do it fuckin' now that there's a lotta different kinds of give and take. And you give as good as you get, baby, trust me. — Kristen Ashley

He gets hard seeing his marks on me. I get wet knowing this. I don't try to analyze it. It's just us. — Willow Madison

I've got a tip." "Me, too. Let a smile be your umbrella and you're gonna get your dumb ass wet. — J.D. Robb

The people on the QVC shopping channel convince me that life is worth living. They see the good in everything. People who go to counselling should actually go to a room with a QVC seller for half an hour and let them find the qualities within them. For example, they'd look at me and say, 'To anybody else this looks like a stomach but, actually, his feet never get wet in the rain. — Johnny Vegas

One of my favorite "deep thoughts" on the topic occurred when one of my other bands, Loaded, was opening for Alice Cooper a number of years back. After one particularly successful show, we got to talking about Bon Jovi. In the song "Wanted Dead Or Alive," the claim is made that "I've seen a million faces, and I've rocked them all." All? Let's ponder.
I have no doubt that Bon Jovi had played to a million people by the time "Dead or Alive" was released on Slippery When Wet in 1986. But did they rock them all? Couldn't it be that some dudes brought their girlfriends to the show and weren't necessarily into their music? What about some parents? Or maybe some people just didn't get rocked? Hey, it's happened to me. I've gone to gigs properly prepared to get rocked and it just didn't happen. — Duff McKagan

think you need a hug. A nice warm, dripping-wet one."

Keenan started clapping while Brecken gave me a warning look. "I've got your son on my shoulders. I can't run away from you."

I gave an overdone smile then lunged. "Exactly," I exclaimed, winding my arms around him and wiggling the rest of my wet self against him.

Brecken let out a drawn-out groan, but he stood there and took it, hanging on to Keenan while I hung on to him. "Mature. So mature." He sighed all dramatic-like. "Wonderful example you're setting for your son here."

I tipped my head up, eyebrow raised. "This coming from the man who mixed Frosted Flakes and Cocoa Puffs this morning?"

His eyebrows lifted. "I'm setting the example of how to behave like a proper five-year-old. You're the parent. You get to set the parental example. — Nicole Williams

I am not him, Kia. Your dead husband ... was an asshole. And now he's gone. You're in bed with me ... I'm here because I wanna be here ... and when we're done talkin' about that asshole and he's gone again, I'm gonna get you wet and hot for me and I'm gonna be in you because I wanna be in you ... There are not many men who would not kill [to be here] and that man is now me and and he's gonna be me for a good long time. — Kristen Ashley

My pulse sped up at the thought of him and Becca wet and nearly naked.
"Nothing happened beyond a bit of soaking." He tilted his head. "Well, no' between us. Some of the others, I could tell you stories."
"Stories about who?"
"Ah no, you won't get that for free. You have to be nice to me for two minutes straight."
"I am nice to you."
"I mean, really nice." He nudged my knee with his foot."Father Christmas might call it naughty, but he's a filthy old bugger. — Jeri Smith-Ready

The next man I was involved with lived in Boston. He taught me to cook mushrooms. He taught me that if you heat the butter very hot and put just a very few mushrooms into the frying pan, they come out nice and brown and crispy, whereas if the butter is only moderately hot and you crowd the mushrooms, they get all mushy and wet. Every time I make mushrooms I think of him. There was another man in my life when I was younger who taught me to put sour cream into scrambled eggs, and since I never ever put sour cream into scrambled eggs I never really think of him at all. — Nora Ephron

I enjoy reading books like that because it's not at all the life I lead. It's completely different than any situation I'll ever be in, thank God. But I get entertainment out of it. Because as much as I like to read about a guy telling a girl she's so, so wet for him ... if anyone ever said that to me during sex, I wouldn't be turned on by it. I would be terrified I accidentally peed on myself.'
Ben laughs.
'And if you and I were having sex and you told me you owned me, I would literally crawl out from under you, put on my clothes, walk out of your house, and go puke in your front yard. — Colleen Hoover

I think being an editor really helped me take other people's notes on my writing. I'd get a note like 'It's too wet' or 'The first couple chapters are good, but then the rest of the pages were so wet that they were completely illegible' or 'Did you dip this in Sprite? This smells like Sprite. Why would you dip your novel in Sprite?' And instead of pushing back, I'd listen. That's an incredibly important skill for a young writer to have. — Toni Morrison

I can hear you shake," he whispers. "What are you doing?"
"My hand's under my blouse, my bra. Very softly, I am brushing my finger over my nipple. It's - so hard. So tight it almost hurts. I am barely touching it and I'm getting hot all over."
He groans, and I get inspired. I tell him, "Touch your nipples, too. Like I did for you at the picnic table in the park."
"Jesus Christ, Carrie. I'm sweating, hot. That feels good, but my cock is harder, please - "
"Touch it, something, Brian."
"I am - there's - pre-cum. I'm slippery. Carrie, God, Carrie, are you wet? Tell me. — Mary Ann Rivers

One thing with Montreal is it's so cold and everyone's so poor and beer's so cheap: if you go to a show you have to brave the weather to get there. So you show up and everyone's soaking wet - there's a sense of 'I trekked through three feet of snow to get here!' I think there's a kind of camaraderie that arises out of that, that's important to me as well. — Grimes

Let it rain to You and drips on me, together we will get wet — Jan Jansen

Babies are the worst roommates. They're unemployed. They don't pay rent. They keep insane hours. Their hygiene is horrible. If you had a roommate that did any of the things babies do, you'd ask them to move out. "Do you remember what happened last night? Today you're all smiles, but last night you were hitting the bottle really hard. Then you started screaming, and you threw up on me. Then you passed out and wet yourself. I went into the other room to get you some dry clothes, I came back, and you were all over my wife's breasts! Right in front of me, her husband! Dude, you gotta move out. — Jim Gaffigan

The smile slid from his lips, and his eyes glowed with arousal. "I want you, Kiara. Not just today. Or this week. Or for the heat. I want to be with you." Fear and hope battled in her chest. "You don't even know me." He brought a cold, wet hand up to her face and twined it into her hair, cupping the back of her skull. "Then let me get to know you. — Milly Taiden

He stared at my wet hair. "You been under that fucking waterfall again?"
"Not today." I didn't get why it bothered him so much, unless maybe the thought it set a bad example for Nicki. "Why do you care?"
He shrugged. "I don't. Knock your brains loose if you want." He blew out a huge cloud of smoke, which I thought was a pretty ironic thing to do while giving me a safety lecture. — Jennifer R. Hubbard

These days, it feels to me like you make a devil's pact when you walk into this country. You hand over your passport at the check-in, you get stamped, you want to make a little money, get yourself started ... but you mean to go back! Who would want to stay? Cold, wet, miserable; terrible food, dreadful newspapers - who would want to stay? In a place where you are never welcomed, only tolerated. Just tolerated. Like you are an animal finally house-trained. — Zadie Smith

I may not, perhaps, be forgiven for introducing sober matters with a frivolous notion, but the problem of making sense out of the seeming chaos of experience reminds me of my childish desire to send someone a parcel of water in the mail. The recipient unties the string, releasing the deluge in his lap. But the game would never work, since it is irritatingly impossible to wrap and tie a pound of water in a paper package. There are kinds of paper which won't disintegrate when wet, but the trouble is to get the water itself into any manageable shape, and to tie the string without bursting the bundle.

The more one studies attempted solutions to problems in politics and economics, in art, philosophy, and religion, the more one has the impression of extremely gifted people wearing out their ingenuity at the impossible and futile task of trying to get the water of life into neat and permanent packages. — Alan W. Watts

You're not like any man I've ever known," she said. "You're not even someone I could have dreamed. You're like someone from a fairy story written in a language I don't even know."
"The prince, I hope."
"No, you're the dragon, a beautiful wicked dragon." Her voice turned wistful. "How could anyone have a normal everyday life with you?" Cam took her in a safe, firm grip and lowered her to the mattress. "Maybe you'll be a civilizing influence on me." He bent over the slope of her breast, kissing it through the muslin veil of her gown. "Or maybe you'll get a taste for the dragon." He found the bud of her nipple, wet the cotton with his mouth, until the tender flesh pricked up against his tongue.
"I th-think I already have." She sounded so perturbed that he laughed. "Then lie still," he whispered, "while I breathe fire on you. — Lisa Kleypas

I have made a mistake. They condemn me to death and I ask for a boy to coach me for it. A red-headed boy, who gobbles his buttered bread and toddles to his horse with the seat of his pants wet, this is the young man they hope will get me on my knees, full of prayer. This is the young man I hope will be able to help me, although with what and how I cannot think. — Hannah Kent

Need 'nether whiskey. Whiskey chaser. Gotta get two men drunk.'
Mr. Cohan placed both hands on the bar. 'Mr. Walsh,' he said severely, 'in Gavagan's we will serve a man a drink to wet his whistle, or even because his old woman has pasted him with a dornick, but a drink to get drunk with I do not sell. Now I'm telling you you've had enough for tonight, and in the morning you'll be thanking me ... ' ("My Brother's Keeper") — Fletcher Pratt

This dead man is bound up with my life, therefore I must do everything, promise everything in order to save myself; I swear blindly that I mean to live only for his sake and his family, with wet lips I try to placate him--and deep down in me lies the hope that I may buy myself off in this way and perhaps even get out of this; it is a little stratagem: if only I am allowed to escape, then I will see to it. So I open the book and read slowly:--Gerard Duval, compositor.

With the dead man's pencil write the address on an envelope, then swiftly thrust everything back into his tunic.

I have killed the printer, Gerard Duval. I must be a printer, I think confusedly, be a printer, printer... — Erich Maria Remarque

Are you fucking kidding me? How do you get this wet? Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. I don't even ... ohhhhh God. It's all over your legs. Oh baby, I'm gonna fuck you so hard. — Charlotte Stein

Looks like we're about to get wet," I said, stating the obvious. He laughed. "I don't care." He grabbed me by the waist and turned, slipping me up so I was lying on the hood of the car, pinned there with his body. He ran his hands through my hair, spreading it. "So beautiful," he whispered. He crushed his mouth to mine, devouring it. — Lacey Weatherford

I want to stick my cock into your pussy. Don't worry - I'll get you nice and ready first. Open you up with my fingers, make sure you're so wet and hot that when you wrap around me, it'll feel like I'm fucking a goddess because you're goddamn perfect, London. I can't wait to feel your cunt squeezing me. Lick your clit, taste you . . . It'll be good between us. You know it will. — Joanna Wylde

I'm not asking you to describe the rain falling the night the archangel arrived; I'm demanding that you get me wet. Make up your mind, Mr. Writer, and for once in your life be the flower that smells rather than the chronicler of the aroma. There's not much pleasure in writing what you live. The challenge is to live what you write. — Eduardo Galeano

Master to slave: when he says "Fuck me," my body softens and I get wet. It's visceral. Inescapable. I love the way he says "Fuck me," as if his body will explode if I don't touch him, slam down on him and take him inside me, meld our flesh together in that place we both find the only peace we ever know. Out of bed, we're a storm. In bed, we find the eye. — Karen Marie Moning

I might try that one thing, you know, that thing people do when their eyes get all wet and stupid - what's it called? Crying?
Or NOT. I might PUNCH you instead and trust that you won't punch me back because of my endearing smallness. It would be like punching a child. — Laini Taylor

I crumple onto the lounger and cry again even though I didn't think I had any tears left. And then Dante is next to me, with his wet arms around me and he's whispering in my ear.
And the huskiness of his voice.
The smell of his wet skin.
The beating of his heart against my hand.
All of it.
I don't want to be without him.
Maybe he's right. Maybe love is all that matters. And we can get through our differences. We can get through anything.
And then he's kissing me.
And I'm letting him.
And I'm kissing him back.
Because I love him and he loves me and Elena Kontou doesn't matter.
Dante's hands are all over me, warm and strong and I lean into him, into his warmth, his strength. It's still raining, but we are kissing in the rain and it's sexy as hell. In fact, I think I'll kiss in the rain forever. For the rest of my life. Because it's just that sexy. — Courtney Cole

It stunned me. I had never said it before. I knew that I would never say it again, not really; that you only get one shot at in a lifetime. I got mine out of nowhere on a misty autumn evening, under a street lamp shining yellow streaks on the wet pavement, with Rosie's strong pliable fingers woven through mine. — Tana French

Do you have any idea how much it turns me on, knowing something of mine has been cradling your sweet pussy all day long?" Without warning, he thrust two thick fingers inside her with just enough force to make her cry out, bring her up on her toes. He didn't move them, only held them there, high and tight inside her. Ruby's head fell forward on a moan that was equal parts frustrated and relieved. He'd finally filled her. But she needed so much more from him, and he seemed determined to take his time. "You walked around with your naughty secret all day, didn't you? Did you think of me while you sat in class wearing my underwear? Did the thought of me get you all wet, baby?" His thrust his fingers deeper. "Answer me or you'll get no more. — Tessa Bailey

I love New York. I'm working on Broadway, and it's a great way for me to get my feet wet in acting and a great way to season yourself as a performer. — Taylor Hicks

Leslie-Ann set down her own bucket and watched, marveling, as a quarter of an inch of water covered the bottom.
When she looked away, she saw an older kid. She'd seen him around. But usually he was with Orc and she was too scared of Orc ever to get near him.
She tugged on Howard's wet sleeve. He seemed not to be sharing in the general glee. His face was severe and sad.
"What?" he asked wearily.
"I know something."
"Well, goody for you."
"It's about Albert."
Howard sighed. "I heard. He's dead. Orc's gone and Albert's dead and these idiots are partying like it's Mardi Gras or something."
"I think he might not be dead," Leslie-Ann said.
Howard shook his head, angry at being distracted. He walked away. But then he stopped, turned, and walked back to her. "I know you," he said. "You clean Albert's house."
"Yes. I'm Leslie-Ann."
"What are you telling me about Albert?"
"I saw his eyes open. And he looked at me. — Michael Grant

When I look at each of my brothers, I see two things. First, I see the next place I want to leave a rosy welt. Second, I see a good man who will always be there, no matter how hard life gets for me or him. Then, I get out of the way because I realize he's coming at me with a wet dish towel. — Daniel Pearce

That's when Poppy kissed me. I didn't have time to get ready. She just kissed me there and then, right on the lips. It felt lovely. I wasn't even scared this time. It was warm and not too wet. I didn't get any tongue. Her breath smelled like Orange Tic Tacs. — Stephen Kelman

Dear brother,
I feel what Pa and Ma instinctively think about me (I don't say reasonably).
There's a similar reluctance about taking me into the house as there would be about having a large, shaggy dog in the house. He'll come into the room with wet paws - and then, he's so shaggy. He'll get in everyone's way. And he barks so loudly.
In short - it's a dirty animal.
Very well - but the animal has a human history and, although it's a dog, a human soul, and one with finer feelings at that, able to feel what people think about him, which an ordinary dog can't do.
And I, admitting that I am a sort of dog, accept them as they are.
Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo, Nuenen, 15 December 1883 — Vincent Van Gogh

I like him to sleep close to me. Danes says it is better than leaving him alone in a cradle to get too cold or too hot. Mistress Bedwell does not agree. She says that I should have a wet nurse and not hold him all the time, for it indulges him so."
I laughed. "What nonsense!"
Hester looked pleased. "It feels right, him being next to me."
"Hester, do what you feel is best. Take no notice of Patience Bedwell. — Sally Gardner

The moment he left the warm sheets and the door clicked shut, I had that feeling you get when you are lost in a strange town at night. I curled into the chair where he had watched me undress and tears wet my cheeks. Then I dried my eyes, I looked in the mirror, and I said these two words. Never again. — Chloe Thurlow

You're Mara, you're sweet, you're beautiful and I will not forget until the day I die how beautiful it felt to slide inside you with you wrapped around me, see your eyes get wet and know straight in my gut that you felt how beautiful it was too. — Kristen Ashley

Sometimes I can't tell the difference between living and dead. Sometimes I look at a pretty little girlie and I think to myself, Is she a living, breathing thing? Or is she just a doll? Are those actualy tears she's crying? Are those real creams coming out of her mouth? And it's like a fog in my mind, like I get all confused and frustrated and mixed up, so I start doing things. Start small at first, like maybe with the ears or the lips or the toes. And then move on to the bigger things, and there's blood, so I keeping going and my hands are wet and my mouth is warm and I keep going and then something magical happens, Jasper. It's real magical and special and beautiful. See, they stop moving. They stop struggiling. All the fight just goes away and that's when it's all clear to me: She's dead. And if she's dead, then that means that she used to be alive. So then I know: This was a living one, a real one. And I feel good after that 'cause I figured it out. — Barry Lyga

Then like a bird, he gingerly landed on a protruding rock inside the monstrous cavern. I looked up at the wet walls teaming with sea life and reeled back feeling like I was going to lose my balance when I felt him reach around and carefully lift me off. He placed me so I could stand on the rock in front of him. His strong arms wrapped tightly around me so I wouldn't fall. We stood in astonishment deafened by the noise of the waves hitting the reef all around us. The warmth of his chest radiated against me. I molded my body up against his, my heart erupting in a flutter that caused my legs to weaken.
"What do you think?" he whispered into my ear. I felt his hot breath against the side of my neck, which caused me to be light-headed as my heart raced even harder.
"Awesome," I whispered, which was all I could get out as I slinked into his chest a little bit more. — Brenda Pandos

There's something simmering inside of me. Something I've never dared to tap into, something I'm afraid to acknowledge. There's a part of me clawing to break free from the cage I've trapped it in, banging on the doors of my heart, begging to be free. Begging to let go. Every day I feel like I'm reliving the same nightmare. I open my mouth to shout, to fight, to swing my fists, but my vocal cords are cut, my arms are heavy and weighted down as if trapped in wet cement and I'm screaming but no one can hear me, no one can reach me and I'm caught. And it's killing me. I've always had to make myself submissive, subservient, twisted into a pleading, passive mop just to make everyone else feel safe and comfortable. My existence has become a fight to prove I'm harmless, and I'm not a threat, that I'm capable of living among other human beings without hurting them. And I'm so tired I'm so tire I'm so tired I'm so tired and sometimes I get so angry. I don't know what's happening to me. — Tahereh Mafi

You, it's about bedroom eyes. Fuckin' great hair. Long legs. A tight, sweet pussy that gets so fuckin' wet, swear to Christ, every time I have it, don't know whether to bury my face or my dick in it. Your perfume on my sheets. The way you look at me when I tuck you in bed, like I gave you diamonds, something precious, something you wanna keep safe, something you want forever. Woman like you could get diamonds just crookin' her finger, so a woman like you shouldn't find a man tuckin' you in bed precious. But you do. It's also about you tellin' me you won't take it there with me but, I kiss you, you ignite. Some men like a game. Others like a challenge." His smile got wider. "You found a man who likes a challenge. — Kristen Ashley

The pain in my hip was just short of apocalyptic. And the first five hundred words were uniquely terrifying - it was as if I'd never written anything before them in my life. All my old tricks seemed to have deserted me. I stepped from one word to the next like a very old man finding his way across a stream on a zigzag line of wet stones. There was no inspiration that first afternoon, only a kind of stubborn determination and the hope that things would get better if I kept at it. — Stephen King

These boots are worth more than you, damn it!'
Shadikshirram was sitting on her bed, eyes shining wet, straining forward and trying to grab her foot but so drunk she kept missing. When she saw him she sagged back.
'Give me a hand, eh?'
'As long as you don't need two,' said Yarvi.
She gurgled with laughter. 'You're a clever little crippled bastard, aren't you? I swear the gods sent you. Sent you ... to get my boots off. — Joe Abercrombie

"What you got to give, Faye, here," his hips pressed into mine, "clean, pure, all fuckin' mine and that's beautiful right there. But the rest, how wet you get, how tight you are, you goin' wild for me like you did just now, baby. Fuck. You gotta know, coupled with the other, that's beauty that's off the charts."
Hmm. I liked that.
A frak of a lot. — Kristen Ashley

."Therapy," Gary said. "I'm going to need so much therapy. It's like watching cows mating and it's wet and sticky and uncomforttable but I can't look away because I'm worried some of it is going to get on me.". — T.J. Klune

Sam picked up his pack, but before he could put it on, Mogget leaped onto it and slid under the top flap. All that could be seen of him were his green eyes and one white-furred ear.
"Remember I advised against this way," he instructed. "Wake me when whatever terrible thing is a about to happen happens, or if it appears I might get wet. — Garth Nix

I'm so fast I run through a hurricane and not get wet. George Foreman is gonna pay me a dept. — Muhammad Ali

The stream of life is black and angry; how so many of us get across without drowning, I often wonder. The best way is not to look too far before-just from one stepping-stone to another; and though you may wet your feet, He won't let you drown-He has not allowed me. — J. Sheridan Le Fanu

So what's up, you dirty boy?' she teases on the escalator. 'Shit, I don't know where to start.' 'I'll drag it out of you.' She slips her dry little hand into my bunch of wet finger-meats, and coaxes me through the crowd. 'We'll check for my cousin, then maybe grab a juice, get private.' A juice. Grab a private juice. What a woman. — D.B.C. Pierre

Get over yourself," I mutter. "I'd be wet if any guy was rubbing up against me."
"Bull. Fucking. Shit." His thumb brushes my clit. I almost fall over.
"It's me. You want me. — Elle Kennedy

The water temperature finally rose, so I stepped in, and he followed me. It shouldn't have surprised me that our primary focus wasn't on getting cleaned up. We let the water run over us, and there was some soap involved, but mostly, we just lazily made out while we ran soap-slick hands over each other's bodies. I was too exhausted to get turned on, and he probably was too, but this? This was absolute heaven. Wet, slippery skin against wet, slippery skin, our mouths moving together like we planned to do this all night - it didn't get any better than this. — L.A. Witt

It is nothing to get wet; but the misery of these individual pricks of cold all over my body at the same instant of time made me flail the water with my paddle like a madman. — Robert Louis Stevenson

If all those people are getting wet to welcome me, surely the least I can do is get wet too! — Yuri Gagarin

People come up to me in supermarkets and demand humour. And the less amusing I am, the more they piss themselves. So I say, "I'm doing my shopping, mate, OK?" and the guy will be on the floor in hysterics. Quite odd. Eventually I do have to say something funny so I usually go for something pathetic like, "It's a nice place to shop but I wouldn't like to live here!" and they roar again. Wet themselves. I'm lucky though that I am not massively famous, I can get the Tube without much bother. Must be awful being the Beckhams. — Steve Coogan

She'd stutter all the reasons why she shouldn't, shaking her head adamantly. But her body..her body would grow hot with excitement. She'd get wet at the thrill of it. So fucking wet that i'd smell her, telling me she's not even wearing panties to smother her spicy scent.
When my hand touched hers, still clutched to her chest, she'd flinch but she wouldn't pull away. She'd let me guide it between her swollen breasts and down to her flat belly, brushing the bit of exposed skin where the hem of her shirt rides up. Then I'd let her fingers play with the jewel in her navel, manipulating each digit as if that diamond-studded barbell was her clit. Demonstrating how I would stroke it for her. — S.L. Jennings

When the surf is really good, it's hard for me to concentrate on work. So I really have to watch when and where I surf - I won't get anything done if I get the fever. Then it's like I come into work and I'm wet and waterlogged and ready for lunch. — Chris Carter

And by the way, I enjoyed your pool very much. It's a shame you'll never get me that wet. — Angela Graham

When I heard the royal family wanted to have me perform in celebration of Prince William's marriage, I knew I had to give them a little something. 'Wet' is the perfect anthem for Prince William or any playa to get the club smokin'. — Snoop Dogg

I can show you who's the man Let me show you with my hands I just want you close to me I'll get you wet Just wait and see — Eamon

Because they're wet, Noah's jeans are a bit stubborn sliding down, but he's successful, and in the mirror I'm drawn to his naked body. I love the raw power of his shoulder blades and the curve of his back that trails lower to his ... my mouth dries out ... oh, crap ... his butt is ... how do I describe something so exquisite?
Everything about Noah is sexy, and as he bends to pull the jeans off his foot
"If you get in the shower with me, Echo, you'd get a better look and you'd warm up." — Katie McGarry

Eyeing me playfully, he tossed a rock back and forth between his hands. Was that an accident, or do you have a wet t-shirt competition you need me to get you ready for? — Devon Ashley

She had been crying after a routine row with her mother and, as had happened on former occasions, had not wished me to see her swollen eyes: she had one of those tender complexions that after a good cry get all blurred and inflamed, and morbidly alluring. I regretted keenly her mistake about my private aesthetics, for I simply love that tinge of Botticellian pink [3], that raw rose about the lips, those wet, matted eyelashes; and, naturally, her bashful whim deprived me of many opportunities of specious consolation. — Vladimir Nabokov

The Elf and the Dormouse UNDER a toadstool crept a wee Elf, Out of the rain to shelter himself. Under the toadstool, sound asleep, Sat a big Dormouse all in a heap. Trembled the wee Elf, frightened and yet Fearing to fly away lest he get wet. To the next shelter-maybe a mile! Sudden the wee Elf smiled a wee smile. Tugged till the toadstool toppled in two. Holding it over him, gaily he flew. Soon he was safe home, dry as could be. Soon woke the Dormouse-"Good gracious me!" "Where is my toadstool?" loud he lamented. -And that's how umbrellas first were invented. — Oliver Herford

This is true: if there was one thing my father taught me, it's that endings never work out the way you want them to--that they're terrible, and this one is no different. They're like the last drops of wine, the final puffs of a cigarette. They're Sunday nights, or the last afternoon of summer. They're flat tires and wet pairs of socks and cold dinners. They're the sort of thing that--no matter the effort, no matter the discipline--no one can get right. — Grant Ginder

Don't cry, Treasure. You'll get me all wet and then I'll melt. I'm made of sugar, don't you know. — Kady Cross

Gripping her wrists, he pinned her tight to the vanity. "That sex as a weapon thing can only get you so far, Tess."
Wanna bet? "I'm not damaged, cowboy. I don't have hang-ups about my body, I don't use sex to mask my problems" - much - "and right now, if you don't touch me in some very hot, very wet places, I might die. — Kate Meader

Humnnn," he grunted, then laughed. "A dog bite can't hurt a nigger." "It's swelling and it hurts," I said. "If it bothers you, let me know," he said. "But I never saw a dog yet that could really hurt a nigger." He turned and walked away and the black boys gathered to watch his tall form disappear down the aisles of wet bricks. "Sonofabitch!" "He'll get his someday!" "Boy, their hearts are hard!" "Lawd, a white man'll do anything! — Richard Wright

I wanted to get in the car and drive, just drive. Just get to you. That's all I could think of, was
getting to you. But I knew I had to sober up first. So I went out, to the beach. I thought if I
walked awhile that might help. And it was cold, you know? The water was cold. I thought if I
splashed some on my face ... well, if I took a swim. That would help. I thought I'd only jump in, get wet. I thought it would only take a few minutes and I could be on my way. To you."
His voice snagged like a burr on silk. Heat leaked from the corners of Bess's eyes and slipped between her lips. Salt water. Always salt water.
I was stupid," Nick whispered.
You didn't know," she whispered back.
It took my feet out from under me. And all I could think of was how you were waiting, and I was going to fuck it all up again. How I was going to let you down. — Megan Hart

Thank you," she said, tears leaking out of her eyes. "Thank you so much."
A gentle and hesitant hand came down on her back. "Don't cry, Treasure. You'll get me all wet and then I'll melt. I'm made of sugar, don't you know."
(Jack Dandy And Finley) — Kady Cross

I was so fucked up, I couldn't get wet with gentle kisses from a man who loved me. But, put a man who wanted to hurt in front of me, with fucking on his mind and bondage in his thoughts, and I unravelled like the slut I'd become. — Pepper Winters

I sucked a huge breath of air into my collapsed lungs. Once I could breathe again, I examined Ren's back. His white shirt was dirty and torn, and his skin was scratched and bleeding in several places. I took a wet shirt from the bag to clean his scratches, while removing little pieces of gravel embedded in his skin.
When I was finished, I grabbed Ren around the waist in a fierce hug. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. I whispered against his chest quietly but firmly, "Thank you. But don't ever ... ever ... ever do that again!"
He laughed. "If I get results like this, I surely will do it again."
"You will not!"
Ren reluctantly let me go, and I began mumbling, complaining about tigers, men, and bugs. He seemed very pleased with himself for surviving a near-death experience. I could practically hear him chanting to himself: I overcame. I conquered. I'm a man, etc, etc. I smirked. men! No matter what century they're from, they're all the same. — Colleen Houck

There was still plenty of water in the basement, and I felt it soaking me from the knees on down. If someone wanted to torture me until I told them a critical piece of information, all they would have to do is get my socks wet. It feels terrible. — Lemony Snicket

He halted abruptly, and this time she did slam into him, but at least it was his back absorbing the blow of her soft body. He could pretend to ignore it. "What have you got on your feet?" he growled.
"Shoes."
He looked down, his eyes accustomed to the inky black. Light-weight sneakers, already soaking wet from the damp undergrowth. "Christ, woman," he muttered.
"I didn't exactly get a chance to choose my wardrobe when they kidnapped me," she said.
Damned if he didn't like her. — Anne Stuart

I was walking ahead of our little group and, as the Wallace princesses approached, I stepped off the sidewalk into the dew-dampened grass to let them pass. Aunt Belle saw this; she hurried up to me and asked, "Why did you get off the walk when you met those girls?" I replied, as if it should have been clear to anyone, "Because they are the prettiest girls in town! And I didn't want them to get their feet wet!" Aunt Belle grabbed me above the right elbow with both of her hands and shook me until I actually saw blue stars, roughly pushed me back onto the sidewalk, and growled between clenched teeth, emphasizing each word: "DON'T YOU EVER, EVER GET OFF THE SIDEWALK FOR ANYONE! YOU ARE AS PRETTY AS ANYONE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? — Mildred Armstrong Kalish

C.S. Lewis in his second letter to me at Oxford, asked how it was that I, as a product of a materialistic universe, was not at home there. 'Do fish complain of the sea for being wet? Or if they did, would that fact itself not strongly suggest that they had not always been, or would not always be, purely aquatic creatures? Then, if we complain of time and take such joy in the seemingly timeless moment, what does that suggest? It suggests that we have not always been or will not always be purely temporal creatures. It suggests that we were created for eternity. Not only are we harried by time, we seem unable, despite a thousand generations, even to get used to it. We are always amazed by it
how fast it goes, how slowly it goes, how much of it is gone. Where, we cry, has the time gone? We aren't adapted to it, not at home in it. If that is so, it may appear as a proof, or at least a powerful suggestion, that eternity exists and is our home. — Sheldon Vanauken