— by Robyn —
Deanna’s Messy Adventures Episode 2: A New Discovery
Deanna opened the door to her apartment and slowly stepped inside. Her mind was still reeling from yesterday’s odd encounter. It seemed like a dream, some vision that hazed between lucidity and phantasm. Was it true? Had she been involved with a pie fight with two other ladies? Not only been involved- but she started the mess!
“Oh my gosh,” moaned Deanna. “I’m going to be in so much trouble with Kelly! She’s going to kill me for having messed up her kitchen and taken my rage out on customers…”
She had worked almost a double shift the day before to clean up the mess and do all of the baking to replace the desserts used in the pie fight. Then she went in early this morning to catch up on all the paperwork and do even more cleaning. She was exhausted.
Deanna crumpled in her favorite chair and kicked off her tennis shoes. She was on the verge of tears. But as she contemplated the whole affair she gradually began to reason with herself that it didn’t seem as bad as she first thought.
After all, Katy had left her in a pretty difficult position. Surprised to find out that she had to look after “Kelly’s Bakery” by herself the shock coupled with her depression was a bad combination. She had been moody since her boyfriend dumped her for another woman. Then to have that woman and her mother come waltzing in the store uttering snide lies about her being a tramp and all… Well, who wouldn’t have gone off the deep end?
Besides, it wasn’t as if the desserts weren’t replaced. She had straightened out the whole mess with the two ladies, Margaret and Veronica. They accepted responsibility too. Plus they were kind enough to help clean up the place afterwards and pay for the pies, whipped cream and fillings that had been used as weapons instead of desserts.
The store showed no signs of the fracas, and the destroyed items had been restored. She knew the Veronica and Margaret weren’t going to talk about it. Everything was going to be OK. Deanna reasoned that she would simply let the sleeping dog lie. If her boss, Kelly Merrico, mentioned anything she would simply tell the truth – apologetically, straightforward, honestly. There would be no problem. This was just a little mistake that had been corrected. Life goes on.
Yet, there was still something else which Deanna couldn’t shake. A feeling of… excitement? Could it be that she had enjoyed the feeling of getting messy and getting someone else messy too?
Towards the end of the skirmish Deanna had with Margaret and Veronica she remembered feeling rather stimulated. The feeling of the cool, wet substances flowing over her body was so exhilarating. The pies in her face and hair – it was so… so, naughty… so good! And when the batter was poured down her pants and inside her panties she swore that she was feeling aroused.
Deanna shook her head. What’s the matter with me? She thought. I can’t believe that I’m getting hot thinking about this! She pondered for a moment again on those emotions that raced through her body during the food fight.
No, she thought, I liked the feel of that. I liked it very much. I’ve never been so turned on in my life as when those two women were getting me messy. What’s wrong with that? It’s just food, it washed out and it felt great! When it’s all said and done we were just having fun.
“I wish we could do it again…” Deanna said aloud. The broken silence stunned her for a second. At first she didn’t believe that she had just said that but realized her heart had increased its pace. Her breathing was been quick and shallow. Though she felt flushed on the inside on the outside her skin seemed to be tingling.
The corner of Deanna’s mouth turned up, then the other side and a devilish grin appeared. Her eyebrow’s raised to reveal a new twinkle in her eyes and she said, “Why should I wait?”
Deanna jumped out of the chair with a mission to find some items to make her messy. She just had to relive that experience again!
She hunted through cupboards, the refrigerator and over countertops looking for items to satisfy her inner desires. But she had a hard time finding anything.
“I can’t believe it,” she cried, “No pies, no whipped cream… Why can’t I be like one of those workaholics who takes her work home with her?”
Finally she spied a box of pancake mix and some syrup. A worthy successor to the items she was covered with the day before. She pulled out a large bucket from the closet in which to mix the contents. She wanted to be sure there would be enough. It would be a waste to deny her the pleasure of full coverage because a bowl wasn’t big enough to handle all the mixture!
Her hands trembled in anticipation as she assembled the ingredients on the counter. She dumped the entire box into the pail and dropped in 6 eggs of a dozen she had recently purchased.
With a playful glee she reached into the bucket and poked the egg yokes with her fingers. Grabbing a large spoon she began mixing the items adding milk and water until the dry ingredients gave way to a smooth, creamy fluid.
Deanna dipped the forefinger of her left hand into the mixture and pulled it out. She held her hand straight up and let the batter flow slowly down her hand. She put her hand down again and let the fluid draw back to the tips. She rubbed the sweet mixture between her fingers feeling the texture. It was beautiful and she felt herself becoming warm thinking about how good it would feel when it encases her body.
Deanna wiped the batter back into the bucket and cleaned off her hand. She wanted to begin her private affair with a clean start.
Grabbing the bucket of pancake batter, the bottle of syrup and the remaining 6 eggs Deanna took them into the bathroom. She set the bucket inside the large whirlpool bathtub and placed the eggs and syrup on its porcelain ledge.
Deanna’s bathroom was a large and beautifully crafted room. Her apartment was very nice but she always felt that the bathroom was the best room in the place. A pastel colored open space, great lighting, and tall, adjustable mirrors, which covered inset cabinets. Since her apartment was on the top floor of the 4-story complex she could open the window to let the cool breeze blow in without the fear of a peeping Tom getting a jolly eye full. But today she needed to be a little more secluded. She closed the window and drew the blinds, then adjusted the mirrors so that, while standing in the tub, she could see her reflection.
Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure that neighbors could hear it. She had to force herself to take several deep breaths to regain her composure. The blend of anticipation and excitement was as thick and sweet as the syrup and batter in which she would soon be engulfed.
Deanna dashed into her bedroom to dress more appropriately for the occasion. She decided to leave her blue jeans on but pulled off the work T-shirt. She opened up one of her dresser drawers and withdrew a white, midriff sweater, which had a V-neck collar and buttoned in the front. She held it to her body and smiled as she mentally created a picture of its new appearance when stained in pancake syrup. The thought was delicious.
She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra and moved the straps gently off her shoulders. She brought her hands to her side; gravity pulled the delicate fabric off her body by its own accord. She looked at herself in the mirror.
For weeks Deanna had battled low self-esteem. The way her ex-boyfriend had dropped her made her feel unworthy and ugly. But now, as she gazed at her beautiful, full breasts and trim, slender waist in the mirror she began to see what everyone else could see. She was hot! She liked the look of her body, and gently squeezed her breasts.
Her fingertips rolled her hard nipples and tugged on them slightly. Deanna smiled again, picked up the sweater and slipped her arms into the short sleeves. When buttoned it fit snugly around her body pressing her ample breasts together forming the perfect cleavage.
She was ready to begin.
Deanna closed the drain on the bathtub and stepped onto its surface in her white socks. She picked up two eggs and slid one each into the front pockets of her pants. Watching herself intently in the mirror she made a couple of practice swings. When she thought she was ready she tightened her muscles and spanked the top of her thighs with a quick slap. The two eggs exploded with a muffled crack.
At first Deanna didn’t notice any change, but within a few seconds she could feel the cool, thick liquid pooling at the bottom of her pockets. Slowly the egg’s contents began to slide past the confines of the cotton material and she could feel the liquid oozing down the inside of her legs. At about the same time she noticed dark patches appearing on her pants pockets.
Deanna began to rub her thighs and the mixture squished into a glistening view on her legs. The trickle of juice running down the inside of her thighs made her squirm a little. She liked this sensation very much.
Next she took a single egg in her right hand. Working part-time during school and full-time during the summers with Kelly Merrico for two years at her bakery, Deanna had learned a few of the cool little tricks that master chefs do, like break an egg with one hand. Until now she had thought the only value this trick had was for showing off. Now, however, the light bulb had come on. Deanna could use this for something really worthwhile.
With her left hand she grabbed the waistband of her pants and panties and pulled them from her body. She began to breathe a little harder in expectation. Using her practiced technique she cracked the egg’s shell on the wall and dropped the thick, slippery mass of yellow and clear gel directly to the bottom of her panties.
The cold touch of the liquid against her hot, sexual lips made her gasp.
“Oohhh!” she sighed, and let out a slight laugh. The feeling was so tremendous that she wasted no time in grabbing a second egg and performing the same, erotic sensation as before.
When both eggs had been delivered on target Deanna released the waistband and began to massage her crotch. The thick juices pressed into her folds and seeped their way through her panties and eventually out through her jeans.
She stared at herself for a minute, taking in the site of the front of her pants soiled… dark and wet. The light refracting and reflecting off this wet spot gave a new shiny texture to her once plain, dry jeans. She felt the coolness of the egg mixture between her legs mixing with another wetness. This one, however, was warm and emanating from within Deanna.
Deanna turned around with her back to the mirrors and leaned forward. She cocked her head backward to look at her reflection. As she turned her long mane of hair slid off her back and shoulders and draped at her side revealing a set of firm, cute buns.
Deanna picked up the two remaining eggs and, keeping her gaze on her sweet cheeks, stood up straight and inserted one egg each into her back pockets. She began to bend forward again leaning farther and farther until the tightening pants material constricted the fragile shells more than they could bear and they released their contents with an explosive jet of goo. Much of the runny liquid shot straight out of the pocket and onto Deanna’s back and sweater. Again, the cool, wet touch of the yoke and whites made her jump with delight as it touched her warm back.
Feeling quite satisfied with the results of this first round and having exhausted her supply of eggs she turned her attention to the white sweater and the large bottle of maple syrup.
Deanna popped the top of sweet, dear Mrs. Butterworth and spun around again to face the mirror. Holding the bottle of delicious decadence upside down she began squeezing the pleasure out of the plastic container and onto her waiting chest.
With lines, circles arcs and other assorted artistic marks she proceeded to turn her torso into a sticky, liquid painting using her as the canvas. The syrup’s heavy consistency and gummy texture coupled with the absorbent fibers of the sweater allowed the syrup to defy gravity and stay where it was applied. Time seemed to be suspended. After a few seconds the gooey elixir slowly began to roll down Deanna’s firm breasts and as the fluid traveled over these mounds the sweater soaked up the solution.
In a few minutes the once beautiful, white sweater was streaked and stained with a brownish, sticky layer. However there were still some areas that had not yet been affected.
Deciding to expedite the pleasure she was enjoying Deanna unscrewed the pop cap and brought the bottle up to her shoulders. Starting with the left side and moving over to the center of her neck she tipped up the bottle and unleashed a torrent of syrup. The wave of goo poured down her shoulder and front making a clean split down into her cleavage.
She then duplicated the same maneuver but using her left hand to hold the bottle she covered her right side. Her upper body was now immersed with the glossy concoction.
Shiny… sticky… sweet… naughty! Deanna could not hold herself back from touching the oozing goo and rubbing it around her body. The touch was sensational as her hand became engulfed in the sugary substance. With squeezes and squishes she gratified herself in this newfound joy.
Rivers of syrup now oozed out from under her sweater and traveled over and into her pants. Feeling the seductiveness of this new messiness she was compelled to swing her head around allowing the long train of dark blonde, beautiful hair to land onto her sticky chest.
The hair adhered easily to the mess and Deanna patted the hair more firmly into place with her syrupy covered hands. With the remaining quarter of pancake syrup left in the bottle she raised its mouth to the height of her shoulder. Slowly tipping the bottle upside down she poured the remaining contents over her draped hair.
The syrup mingled with the long, gorgeous hairs and traveled their full length until reaching the tips. The hair was now thick; shiny; matted… almost black in color. It gave Deanna such a feeling of dirtiness.
Having expended the contents of the syrup she dropped the bottle on the tub floor. Taking both hands she began to massage the sticky liquid more deeply into her hair. Then, wrapping both hands around her mane at chin height, she squeezed the fluid mass and pulled her hands down the full length of her tresses. As the syrup began to be ejected from the pressure Deanna directed this flow onto those areas of her jeans that had not yet been soiled by either the eggs or previous syrup spills.
Deanna looked at this new, gorgeous creature in the mirror. She saw herself in a new light with a re-born excitement. She liked very much what she saw. Deanna thought to herself that what she was feeling might be the sensations an archeologist experiences. After hundreds or thousands of years they stumble across a find of such overwhelming greatness (like a mummy’s tomb) that his or her heart bursts with exhilarated joy and celebration.
Deanna felt as if her “love of messiness” discovery had been covered thousands of years. How could she have not known this enjoyment before? The realization and release of this treasure was such a sensual stimulation that there was no way this find could ever be covered up again. Almost angry with herself for not having noticed this love before she vowed to explore each and every crevice of this newly opened pyramid.
As if in a symbolic gesture of this uncovering Deanna pulled outward at the center of her sweater. The buttons could no longer contain the flesh and fantasy that they tried to shroud. The ruined sweater tore open and Deanna’s beautiful, sweetly covered breasts were exposed as was her passions for messiness.
She dropped the sweater to the tub, picked up the bucket full of pancake batter and began pouring the mixture over her chest. The thick, yellowish cream flowed smoothly and evenly over her body. The consistency was so perfect that the concoction clung even to the undersides of Deanna’s breasts before continuing down her flat tummy. The goo broke past the waistline and stole down the dark recesses of her legs. Only a few drops fell onto the floor.
Deanna eyed this beautiful site seeing her skin now covered with a new, thick color. Most notably she loved the way her erect nipples stood out from under the painted-on goo.
She felt so warm inside and her head was spinning. She wanted more of this, much more! She thought how much better this would have been if she had had the time to prepare many, many bowls of different batters and pies, creams… Oh! How she loved this feeling.
She also wished that someone else could have been here to help her get messy. However, she was satisfied right now for what she was doing and feeling. That fantasy would have to be explored later.
The heat of her passion under the cool liquids was a heady mixture but she needed to go farther still.
Deanna unbuttoned her tight jeans and, with a little wriggling, peeled them off and stepped out of the leggings. Her panties were so stained with various liquids (including those from inside her own love hole) that they were almost unrecognizable. She pulled them down past her thighs and let gravity pull them down the rest of the way. They fell with an erotic sounding squishy splat as egg, syrup and batter splashed up onto her bare legs.
She bent down and pulled off the soiled socks and stepped onto the gunge in her nude feet. The cool, smooth substances tickled her as they oozed out and up between her toes. It also made her aware of how slippery it was and that she needed to watch her balance.
Deanna looked at herself in the mirror again. Completely naked, it was time for her baptism; a new covering of life. A cleansing of the body from all the impurities that have held it back from its full potential of enjoyment. A new person would emerge.
With heart and breath racing Deanna lifted the pail of batter over her head and slowly began to empty the contents on the top of her pretty head. The batter began seeping into her hair and encased her head, gradually making its way down her body. She watched in anticipation of the glorious painting of her new soul. The batter was perched on the brows of her eyes. The mixture could not wait any longer and Deanna succumbed to its power and pleasure.
Taking a big breath Deanna lifted her face upwards and allowed the batter to flow freely and completely over her countenance. Her entire face was re-created; no… her entire body was re-created. A new look, color and texture had been added to the old Deanna. The transformation of a new, exciting woman with unlimited possibilities had taken place.
The mixture poured down Deanna’s slim body with streaks of sweet, glorious life flowing down her statuesque frame until the batter in the pail could no longer exit the container.
Deanna set the bucket down and carefully removed only the amount of cream from her eyelids necessary to open her eyes. She stared at the sexy woman deluged in thick, sweet confection. It was a splendid site.
Sinking down into the tub she lied on her back and scooped out the remaining pancake batter from the bucket and piled in on her tummy. She began to massage the mixture around on her arms and other spots of her body that had not already been covered with the mess.
She shampooed her hair, rubbed her face, stroked her legs and massaged her sensitive and sensuous breasts and tummy for several minutes. Giving way to the desires that had burned inside her for so long she moved a hand between her legs and pressed the gooey mass deep into her body and around her sweet, tender lips.
Deanna closed her eyes again and pleasured herself this way until the waves of passion and ecstasy made her shudder with enjoyment and pleasure. She relaxed her body to catch her breath and rest.
As she renewed her strength she held and caressed her body. A grin appeared on her face then a beautiful smile. She could not recall the last time she experienced such a wonderful and joyous sensation… if ever. Deanna was so happy with this new dimension that had opened in her life.
She turned on a flow of warm water and used the portable shower head to rinse off her body and bathtub.
“How does that saying go? Life is sweet?” Deanna said with a broad smile. “Unless they’ve experienced what I’ve experienced, they have no idea…”
Deanna slowly cleaned her body daydreaming of her recent experiences and anticipating what new pleasures might yet be uncovered.