— by Shokolada —
When Linda walked in the room, she wore nothing but panties cut from a black plastic bag and the type of disposable plastic apron often seen in food service. Cameron, on the other hand, was wearing nothing at all, and he caught his breath at the glorious fetish sight of her.
Cameron and Linda liked to play various athletic and intellectual games outside the bedroom, and they often staked each other to complete obedience that night in the bedroom. Unfortunately for Linda, she’d suffered a bad losing streak recently. Truthfully, she hadn’t minded that much – or at all, really – but after nights of willingly enduring pieing, dunking, and splattering at Cameron’s hands, she’d declared that losing streak officially over. Linda proclaimed that she got a free turn at him, and he’d better shut up and like it.
Cameron found himself able to accept the proposition. So, Linda planned in secret, by now armed with plenty of information about exactly what would drive him wild. That was the reason he stood nude in the kitchen with a plastic tarp under his bare feet and a table full of gooey concotions nearby; and she stood there clad only in the tight, shiny material that was his second biggest fetish.
“Now,” Linda announced the scenario. “You’re going to remain completely passive until I say otherwise. I work for this major catering service, you see. We’re helping throw a huge bachelorette party, and they’ve ordered our most expensive dessert.”
“Which is?” Cameron thought he could guess the answer.
“You, of course.” With no more warning than that, Linda grabbed a chocolate meringue pie and shoved it into his face. She rotated the pie slightly, working the goo in, and pulled the tin away. There was at least a half-inch of gunk coating him from hairline to chin; Linda carefully used a forefinger to clear his eyes and nostrils.
Before he’d recovered completely, she handed Cameron a familiar object; and hourglass-shape of clear plastic, hot-glued into the shape of underpants. As he slid them on without comment, he noticed that she’d cut and glued carefully; there was a good bit of room in the rear and crotch. The latter was a bit of luck, since the feel of the gunge on his face and the sight of Linda’s nipples rubbing themselves against her shiny, translucent apron was getting Cameron almost painfully stiff.
Two strips of tape pinched the legs of Cameron’s clear briefs tight. “Hold the waist up,” she ordered him. He did so, and she circled behind him with a bowl. He gasped as heavy, sticky sludge flowed slowly over his ass, settling into the crack between his cheeks and moving slowly under his crotch. Thick brownie batter – he knew it had to be. Linda used her hand on the outside of the plastic to push the semi-solid stuff over both cheeks to each hip, and to make sure it filled the back without any air bubbles.
She came back around him, taking a new bowl from the table. Linda knelt, smiled up at him briefly, and lowered the plastic long enough to plant a kiss on his rock-hard member. As he twitched, she poured the bowl of butter cream into the pants, over his penis and down to where it met the chocolate between his legs. Again she shifted the goo around, “accidentally” brushing his member a few times, until it filled nearly the entire front of the clear briefs. Another bit of tape, and Cameron’s crotch and ass were safely sealed under brown-and white gunge.
She stepped back to admire the effect. Cameron himself was going mad with the physical sensations and the erotic knowledge that she was ‘forcing’ this on him. (Admittedly, he wasn’t exactly putting up much resistance.) Linda whipped out the pocket camera, and he had to admit that fair was fair as she grabbed a few frames.
Linda set down the camera and struck a pose of sudden absent-mindedness. “This is hard work… and it’s awfully hot in here. Oh, there’s what I need,” and with that, a bowl of yellow cake batter flowed into the neck of the apron, cascading down over her breasts and along the tied-off waist. A great deal of it escaped out the sides and hit the tarp, but said tarp was textured, and with care, footing wasn’t a concern. She put her hands on the apron over her breasts, and slowly rubbed the batter over them , moving them around under the plastic and making faint squeals of pleasure. “Oh, yesss. Yes, that feels much, much better.”
“Seems hotter in here to me,” Cameron commented in a low voice, almost vibrating with impatient lust.
She looked back at him. “Oh yes! We’ll have to finish you off sooner or later, won’t we. Well, raise your arms and hold still.” She took a large spatula from the table and tucked a tub of soft white frosting under one arm. Starting at the nape of his neck, working down and around to the front, she carefully covered his entire torso with the frosting. At one point, she leaned close while covering one of his nipples, then ‘lost her balance’ and plunged her face into the sugary mess. Linda stayed there for a moment, slid up and tickled his nipple with her tongue as his breath came out in frustrated gasps. Without comment, she pulled away and repaired the ‘damage’ with more frosting.
A tube of icing wrote slogans such as “Sweet Boy” and “Fuck This, O.K.?” across his chest, stomach, and back; then with great care, Linda wrapped his torso in a layer of plastic wrap so as not to disturb the writing.
“Walk around the room,” she ordered, “and we’ll see how this travels.” He did – barely. It seemed as though he was beeing carressed, sucked at, licked, and teased from neck to crotch. In seconds he was going to come. He turned, and Linda was setting aside a can of spray whipped cream she’d just emptied into her own panty and fingering herself to the sight of him gunged and wrapped as she’d been so many times. She came loudly, and he followed quick suit.
With his orgasm past, Cameron began to feel a little silly. “So when’s this party?” he asked, returning to her side of the room.
“Right now,” Linda growled, pulling him to the ground. He lay back, squelching into the brownie batter and frosting, as she tore a penis-sized hole in his brief and clamped her lips on his cock. It was hard in seconds, and Cameron forgot his brief embarrassment. She sucked and teased him, manipulating the frosting on his chest while he shifted around in the batter. Soon his moans reached a pitch she knew and she mounted his newly-cleaned member. The butter cream shifted under her weight, and with the wiggling and pounding of her hips, he was in sticky heaven.
“Linda,” he pleaded.
“I know,” she moaned back. She reached up to the nearby table, and the remaining pies covered their arms, legs, ears, and faces. Cameron came again as chocolate pudding ran down his cheeks, and Linda yelped her orgasm before he’d softened appreciably.
They tore the plastic from one another, and cuddled on the floor, in the accumulated goo. He kissed her. “I’m a very lucky man, Linda.”
“I think I did okay myself.”
They lay there long enough for the gunk to be a real pain to clean off.
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