"You think she's going to run hard and come to class soaking wet with her makeup running?"

March and April 2011 were very wet with well above average rainfall.

There was the paper before me, wet with the ink.

His thin cotton shirt was wet and heavy with blood.

When he looked at the finger, it was red, wet with blood.

It was wet and slippery, with small streams running along each side.

I stood up then; all wet with a kind of tears that do not flow in this country.

It was a wetter and warmer world, with all the food they needed there for the taking.

They stood in the back, getting wet with the gray mist.

The old man's white shirt was ripped down the front and wet with blood.