Banana Cream

— by Argus —

“Hey, look what I have” I said. I held the very large banana cream pie in my hand.

“Ooh, yum! Can I have some?” She asked.

“Well, maybe. Only if you take off your clothes!”

“Oh, come on!” She said. “Really”, I said,

“No kidding! C’mon, take off your clothes. Get naked”.

“Well, ok. Then you’ll give me some?”

“Yes.” She took off her sweatshirt and shorts, and soon stood naked.

“Well? You take yours off too!” I placed the pie down and shed my clothes”. She said “Oh, yeah, thats better! Now, can I have some of that banana cream pie?”

“You really want some?”

“Yeah, that is why I took off my clothes!”

“I just thought you liked being naked!!”

“Well, I do for you, but this time I had a specific purpose. I love banana cream pie”

“Oh really? I dodn’t know that!”

“Well, now you do! So, divvy up. Come on, gimme some!”

“Ok, how much do you want?”

“Just a little. Hey, why don’t we split it!”

“Well, we could, but I don’t like it that much”

“No? Then just give me the whole thing if you can’t stand it!”

“The whole pie? Thats a lot. Can you eat the whole thing?” “Ha! Definately, but I wont all at once. Are you going to give me the pie or not? I’m getting impatient!”

“You want the whole thing??”

“Yes!”

“Ok, ask me nicely” She sighed, and said

“You jerk! “May I please have the banana cream pie?”

“Jerk?? Thats not nice!! Ask again, you!”

“Ok. You’re not a jerk. May I please please have the banana cream pie, you nice naked man?”

“Well, that was pretty nice, but you could be nicer.”

“Ugh!! This is driving me crazy, you know that I love banana cream!”

“Love it, huh? Would you bathe in it?”

“Oh definately…but what a weird question. Ok, I’ll ask again before telling you! Please, pretty please oh kind and sexy naked man would you give me that nice thick delicious banana cream pie?”

“Sexy? I like that!”

“Give me that pie, damn it!”

“Hey!”

“Now look you, I’m telling you, give me that pie!” She smiled at me.

“You want me to give you this banana cream pie?”

“Yes!”

“You want it now?”

“I want it now!” Right this minute?”

“Let me have that banana cream pie!” “Oh, let you have it all??”

“Yes. Now. Right this second. I want that pie, now let me have it.”

“Let you have it?”

“Let. Me. Have. It. Let me have it, now!” I smashed the pie all over her face and hair. Her nipples immediately went erect, and a glop of whipped cream landed on her breasts, in her cleavage, and on her left, erect nipple. The tin fell from her face, which was completely lost behind a crust and the white of a banana cream pie. She stood there and let the crust drop off her face, catching her right breast as it fell to the floor, leaving a trail of white goo over the curve of her breast and most of her right nipple. A glob fell onto her shoulder. Her hair was full of cream and crust. She wiped her eyes, looked at me, licked her lips and said

“Mmmm. This is a really good pie!” She thrust her creamy fingers into my mouth.

“See?? Good, huh? Wow…I have banana cream al over my tits!!”

“You have banana cream all over your face!!”

“Yup! Tastes good, too, but next time, just give me a fork instead!!” She looked delicious covered with the banana cream pie, all over her face, hair, and breasts.

Sweet Bakery

— by Anonymous —

It’s late. Been a long, hard summers day at the Sweet Bakery. Amy wears cut-off jean shorts that are on the verge of letting her long beautiful ass slide out. Her Sweet Bakery t-shirt is tied, showing off her flat belly and pulling the fabric tight against her breasts. She wipes the sweat from her brow as she wipes the tables clean. Puts up the chairs. Locks the front door. Spins the sign on the door to read “CLOSED”. Click. The lights go off. She walks back into the actual baking area and storage space. The thick door seperating the rest of the store slams shut behind her. Kyra is wearing a thin, tight skirt that clings to every inch of her skin. She is sprinkling chocolate shavings on cream pies that cover the surface of a large wooden table. Denise is wearing purple jogging shorts that hang loose, but closely to the area where her butt cheeks come together. Denise nurses a large glass of ice water while she surveys the massive amount of pies she labored over…to fill several orders for the following day.

“I’m beat…” Denise proclaims as she rubs the cool glass against her forehead.

“Why are you beat?” Kyra asks. “You barely did anything!”

Denise simply retorts, “Whatever…it’s hot.”

“No kidding.” says Amy as she slides a rolling rack stacked with thick gooey pies against the wall. “I closed up. Let’s get out of here.”

Amy turns around to open the door and it doesn’t. She tugs at the handle a bit. Her cute nose krinkles up in confusion. She gives a hard pull. Her eyes widen with the fearful realization that this door is not going to open.

“Uh-oh…” Amy softly mutters.

“Uh-oh what?!?” Kyra says.

Amy yanks at the door. She rattles the handle, and pulls and pulls. Nothing. The door is stuck.

Amy turns with a very concerned look and says “I can’t get it.”

“Oh No! No. No way. Uh-uh.” spouts Kyra.

Kyra runs to the door and begins yanking violently at the handle.

“…great…” says Denise

Denise plops down in a chair and buries her head in her hands. Kyra continues to pull at the door. It won’t budge.

“Give me a hand!!!” yells Kyra.

Amy frowns a bit at Kyra’s forceful tone, but she obliges her. The pull and pry at the door. Denise leans her head against the wall and yawns.

Kyra shouts “Pull hard!”

“I am!” Amy barks back.

Denise accepts the inevitable…they’re stuck for the night. She tries to get comfortable in her chair, but cannot. She wriggles around, changing positions. Kyra and Amy yank at the door. Heave! Heave! Heave!!! They lose their grip and go flying backwards….headed for a table packed to the brim with pies. They are about to collide with these thick, creamy pastries….they whip their arms around…..grabbing onto each other…falling…flailing……and they gain their balance. Just grazing the table. Kyra looks down to see bits of white topping on her shirt and her short, little skirt.

“…. oh..just great!! Thanks a lot, Amy!”

“….me?….okay, just gimme your clothes”

Amy removes her shirt, revealing a thin pink bra and panties. She hardly needs the bra to support her pert and full breasts…so, the bra is very mininal. Amy pulls the bit of her panties that is tucking between her cheeks. Kyra removes her soiled clothes, but leaves on a white sports bra and black semi-thong panties. Amy fills a bucket with water to soak the clothes.

The once itchy Denise, is now dozing off in her chair. She starts to slide down, slipping off to her side. As she dozes, her weight pulls her down and face lowers dangerously close to a big, fat cream pie. Slipping down. Her soft, pretty face getting closer to sinking into the pie. Sinking down, then … a snort!

She stops, jerks, snorts again and pulls herself back up…unaware of the mess she barely avoided. She snorts again and wakes up. Looks around, confused. She wants to lay down. She looks at one of the pie covered tables and walks over to it. She starts to take the pies off the table, so she can lay on it.

Amy is busy cleaning the clothes. Kyra is impatiently beating a wooden spoon on a table. Amy glares at her briefly and resumes her work.

Denise has been cramming all of the pies on other tables. The pies barely fit, but by overlapping and squeezing, she gets most of the pies on the other tables. But not all of them fit. She is left with one goopy pie. Denise puts the last one on a stool. After Denise puts the pie down, she lies on the table and curls up.

Amy finishes working any stains out of the clothes. She lets out a sigh of exhaustion and leaves the clothes to soak in the bucket. Amy goes to sit on the stool. Amy is tired and not paying attention. She is completely oblivious to the pie that Denise put there. Kyra sees that Amy is about to be surprised by a very messy cushion. Kyra runs over to grab the pie and prevent Amy from sitting in it. Amy steps to the stool and begins to sit. Kyra lunges for the pie. Amy bends her knees and moves down…her perfectly smooth long ass is extremely close…the highest crest of the thick white topping is just barely skimming Amy’s delicate underwear. Amy stops dead. She noticed the pie? No. Amy notices Kyra directly behind her.

“What are you doing?!?

“uh…” Kyra stammers.

Amy rolls her eyes and sharply sits down. Glup! Her beautiful butt sinks into the gooey pie, only protected by her thin panties. The panties are saturated with the soft pie. Amy scrunches up her cute face and squirms in seat, shifting in the gooey pie. Amy slowly turns to Kyra.

” She did it!” Kyra exclaims, pointing at Denise.

Amy looks over at Denise, who is sound asleep on the table. Amy simply nods. Kyra lets out a sigh of relief… Amy slowly walks over to a table..slowly picks up an overflowing chocolate pie…Amy looks at sleeping Denise… smiles. Then Amy looks at Kyra. Kyra smiles, thinking Denise is going to get it, which makes her smile grow. Amy looks at the other pies and pinpoints a particularly sloppy one. Amy slides her free hand under the pie, slowly picks it up, and smiles at Kyra. Amy walks across the room and stands next to Kyra. Amy looks at Denise. Kyra giggles lightly. Amy giggles. Kyra giggles harder. Amy pulls her arm back and SMACKS Kyra in the face with chocolate pie. Gobs of topping fly. The crust falls. Kyra’s face is covered is sweet goo…thick cream…chocolate filling that clings to Kyra’s face with little bits dripping down. One little bit…plop on her cleavage. Another…splat on her toes. Kyra is stunned. Amy plants the second, runnier pie on top of Kyra’s head. The creamy filling dribbles down Kyra face and drips onto her body… slowly dripping over her large supple breasts… sliding down her smooth stomach….Kyra slowly wipes the goop from her eyes.

” I told you it wasn’t me-” Kyra softly says…

But Amy doesn’t care. She hits Kyra in the face with one more pie, then brushes her hands with satisfaction. Kyra staggers about, her face completely covered with the three different pies. Her cute eyes peak out from the crests of meringue and cream. Amy wipes the pie off her undies, still clinging to her butt after her seat on the stool. After each stroke of her hand, she flings the pie from her fingers. Amy twists around to see her pied behind. The undies are well-stained, as her firm ass sticks out. Amy then procceeds to the bucket and slips off her panties, one luscious leg at a time. She delicately pulls the panties from her foot and bends over to put the panties in the bucket, thrusting her ass high in the air. Just as she bends down completely, Kyra smacks her bare bottom with a thick, butterstotch pie. Amy jerks up and sour look overcomes her face as she shifts her buttcheeks around…feeling the butterscotch all over her bare butt. Then another pie hits Amy square in the face. The gobs of lemony cream completely engulf Amy’s face. Amy jerks her head back a shakes it, but only a little bit of the pie falls off. Amy doesn’t waste any time…she quickly picks a pie.

“We’re even!” Kyra cries.

“Even? I don’t think so.” Amy plainly states as she smashes the cherry filled cream pie into Kyra’s face. The thick filling oozes out from the tin as Amy twists it around. Kyra smacks her full lips. Her tongue slips out to lick a little of the cherry away. Still not satisfied in her revenge, Amy goes to a table of pies to pick up another. Just as Amy starts to finger a pie, Kyra shoves Amy into the table. Amy’s face and body is shoved into the pies, packed in tightly. So many pies smashing into Amy’s body at once! Every portion of Amy’s upper body becomes emersed in thick, gooey pie. Amy starts to pull herself up. There are sounds of glubs and plops…and the creamy sweet goo on her body slowly seperates from the thick goo still on the table. But Amy doesn’t get very far. Kyra pushes her back down and climbs on top of her. Kyra saddles herself on Amy’s back, as if Amy’s butt was the head of the horse. Kyra wipes the remnants of pie from Amy’s butt. Kyra buffs Amy’s behind with her forearm and gives it a friendly little pat. Kyra picks up a healthy size cream pie and smacks it onto Amy’s bottom. The pie flies. The whipped topping squirts between Amy’s toned butt cheeks. Kyra smacks Amy’s butt with another pie. Blam! And another! And another!..a pie spanking machine!

After about eight pies are smashed on her butt, Amy pushes Kyra off of her back. Kyra tries to make a run for it. Amy chases. Kyra is chased into a corner of the room. Kyra presses her butt firmly against the wall and grabs her undies to protect herself. Amy picks up two pies and runs over to Kyra. Kyra doesn’t move. Amy puts down her ammunition. Kyra feels like she has won…she’s safe from revenge. Amy bows her head and steps right next to Kyra. Kyra hangs on to her panties tightly. Amy pulls Kyra’s white sports bra over her head, scoops up the pies she put on the floor and smears a pie on each breast. Amy lets the tins fall, then smears the filling and whipped topping around on Kyra’s breasts. The glopped-up breasts jiggle as Amy pulls her hands away. Amy steps back. Kyra begins to wipe the pie off of her breasts, in shock and disgust. Kyra looks up to say something….but before a single word leaves her mouth, Amy smacks Kyra’s breasts with two more pies. Kyra squeals as the pie splatters over her large, wonderfully full melons. Kyra hurls her sports bra across the room and is about to yell at Amy. Kyra opens her mouth wide and Amy shoves an eclair in her mouth. Amy laughs as Kyra’s eyes widen and bug out. Amy continues to giggle. With a burst of air, Kyra shoots the eclair custard into Amy’s face. Amy is mid-laugh with the custard filling hits her face. Amy is completely taken off gaurd and her whole body jolts. Amy makes a wild lunge for Kyra’s panties and tries to yank down. Kyra pushes her full ass tightly against the wall and grabs onto her panties with her right hand. Her left reaches for a bowl on a shelf, next to her head. Amy struggles with Kyra’s panties and is pulling one side of the panties down to the middle of Kyra’s thigh, while Kyra clings to the other side at her hip. Kyra tips the bowl with her left hand, dumping yellow batter onto Amy’s head. Amy screams and lets go of the panties.

Denise wakes up. She looks to see Amy frantically flailing her arms and flinging the smooth yellow batter off of her body….and Kyra laughing as she pulls up her stretched-out panties.

“What’s going on?” Denise calls out in a half-asleep daze.

Kyra and Amy stop and turn.

“This happened because you put that pie on Kassandra’s stool.” Kyra replies.

“Yeah?”

“She sat in it!”

“She sat in it?”

“Yeah!”

“Oops.”

“You didn’t do that!?!” Amy asks Kyra.

“I told you!” Kyra replies.

Still dumbfounded, Amy asks Denise, “YOU did that?!?!” .

“Sorry…” Amy quietly replies with half-sincerity.

Amy and Kyra look at each other. They look at Denise. Then look back at each other. Amy walks over to a rolling rack of pies. She reaches both hands in at once and slides out two pies. She looks over two Kyra. Kyra turns to the table closest to her. She picks up one very heavily topped pie with both hands. She shifts the pie to her left hand. With her right, she picks up another, showing gooey peach through a cross-laced cream top. Kyra smiles, satisfied with her selection. Denise edges backwards with concern. Amy and Kyra methodically approach.

“It was an accident, Amy…” Denise says quietly.

They continue to saunter over to Denise.

Denise pleads ” I didn’t mean it! Hey, please, I’m sorry! I really am!”

They move right next to Denise. A look of uncertainity comes over Amy’s face. Amy’s eyes look over to Kyra, who seems ready to strike, just waiting. Kyra sees Amy’s expression. Kyra’s expression changes…maybe it’s time to stop now.

“I’m really sorry. I had NO idea…” Denise adds.

“Oh…okay…it’s okay, Denise.” Amy says, knowing it’s better that they don’t. It was an accident after all.

“Yeah ..it’s alright…” Kyra adds.

” Really? Whew! Thanks, guys…Y’know, I thought-“

Before another word leaves her mouth, the heaping pie is crammed in Denise’s face. Her brown hair flies back as the gobs of pie splatter against her clean face! Denise’s eyes open wide in shock, peeking through the cream on her face. Immediately following, Kyra clobbers the side of Denise’s face with the soft peach cream pie. Large chunks of peach and cream slide down Denise’s neck and slip down her shirt. Denise’s jaw drops and the pie dangling from her chin quivers. Denise slowly wipes her eyes, scooping and wiping away the pie. Just as her vision is cleared, Amy smacks Denise in the face with another pie. Denise shrieks.

Amy takes her other pie and sticks it down the back Denise’s shirt. Denise yelps loudly as Amy slaps her back. The pie squirts out the top of her collar and oozes down her back. Denise wiggles and shakes, overwhelmed by the messy attack. Amy wildy rips open Denise’s T-shirt. Denise’s bare breasts jiggle as the shirt is torn off. Her large, round nipples quickly become hard. There is no time to even react. Kyra snags a pie and smashes it into Denise’s cleavage. Denise arches her back and her nipples completely stiffen.

“Stop!” Denise cries.

But Amy and Kyra are not finished. Amy runs and grabs a bowl of pie filling. Amy pulls back the elastic at the back of Denise’s purple jogging shorts. Kyra holds Denise by the hands as Denise nervously hops around. As Amy pulls back the shorts, she surveys Denise’s gorgeous ass, seperated by a hot black thong. Amy gets ready to pour, but she is not satisfied. Nope…we can’t have that thong protecting her. Amy takes hold of the elastic on the thong underwear and pulls back the shorts and the thong. Denise’s ass bounces as it is set free from the thong. Amy pours the silky batter down the back of Denise’s pants. It flows over Denise’s round bottom. Amy lets go of the thong, snapping back…causing the batter to splatter…and squirt up into the tight crevice of Denise’s ass. Denise squeals and wiggles as the filling slides down her legs. Kyra, giggling and laughing with delight, dips her hands into a bowl of uncooked meringue. She firmly grabs Denise’s breasts with her meringue-filled hands, gleefully mushing the goop around on Denise’s highly aroused breasts. Amy pulls down Denise’s shorts and thong to her ankles… Denise can’t take it any more. She spins around. Amy is holding a pie with two hands ready for attack. Denise hits the pie from beneath, smashing it into Amy’s face. Denise quickly grabs Amy’s t-shirt and fings it off over Amy’s head. Amy’s incredible breasts bounce wildly as they are set free. Denise grabs two pies and smashes one into each breast. These massive pies leave mounds of thick cream pilled onto Amy’s spectacular chest. Denise spins around and grabs Kyra. Denise pushes Krya’s face into’s Amy’s cleavage… and pushes Amy’s breasts together, sandwiching Kyra’s face! Denise raises up Kyra’s skirt and quickly yanks down Kyra’s lovely panties. The full ass that Kyra tried so desperately to protect before is completely exposed. Denise takes a strawberry cream pie and very firmly hits Kyra’s well- rounded bottom. Denise twists and turns the tin….Kyra feels every bit of the pie on every bit of the her butt. Kyra jumps forward, knocking into Amy. Amy’s breast accidently going into Kyra’s open mouth. The two entagled bodies fall to the ground. Kyra pulls her mouth away…the lips naturally closing as she does. Amy gives a little smile of embarrassment at the sensation. Denise laughs wildly at her friends and jumps up and down with delight. She slips on some of the goops and falls down. Her bare butt landing on a fallen pie…and pie squirting up her butt. Denise shakes her whole body. Kyra and Amy laugh. Denise laughs. Denise looks down at her firm, naked body…completely covered in pie. She looks up.

“Anyone got milk?” Denise asks.

They all laugh.

Sweet Revenge

— by Anonymous —

This incident happened in the fall of 1995. I was a stock clerk at a grocery store in Champaign, Illinois. Is was about 11:00 on a Saturday night. I worked the closing shift with one other employee, the assistant manger, Wendy. Just as I was about to lock the front entrance doors for the night, two young women came barging through yelling wait. They were both dressed in quite fancy party outfits and were loud and giggley. It was clear that they had done some serious drinking that evening which was confirmed when the blond asked me where the daquiry mix could be found. As I locked the entrance door and turned off the outside lights. I pointed to the 8th aisle. By now Wendy had looked up. The two women yelled out “Hey Wendy, haven’t seen you yet this fall.” Followed closely by the question “Who is Jim screwing around with on you this year?” Wendy immediately turned a bright red and the look in her eye made it real clear these gals were not friends. As the women swaggered over to aisle 8 I asked Wendy who they were. She said that they were ex sorority sisters. The blond, Cindy had lost a sorority election to her last year and then dropped out of the sorority but not before seducing her exboyfriend one night when he was drunk. It was clear that there was no love loss between these two.

I could hear the young women giggling and wandering around the store and I was eager for them to get finished. Soon I heard a commotion and went to look. They had toppled over a candy display and had candy all over the floor. I told them to be careful about the same time that they knocked a bottle of vegetable oil off a shelf and it exploded on the floor. By now Wendy was also watching. She sternly told them to get out of the store and they arrogantly dismissed her and continued wandering the aisles. Next it was cereal boxes then two jars of grape jam that hit the floor.

Cindy said” I’ve had enough. She walked over to confront them and I followed closely behind.

The women were something to see, I could understand how Wendy’s old boyfriend was tempted. Cindy was a very classy young women. Pretty blond hair worn with lots of waves, a great tan and smile and a great body. She looked to be about 5 feet five inches and 110 pounds with those pound in all the right spots. She was wearing a off-white slit skirt that showed off some very nice legs and a satiny tight tank top style blouse cut low to reveal the tops of some very shapely breasts. Nice waist, cute behind, and sporting a set of what looked like nice firm C sized boobs, clearly displayed to their maximum advantage for all to see. Cindy’s sidekick, I latter learned her name was Sandy, was no slouch either. She was more slender and looked very nice in her black party dress. It too had a low cut front and accentuated a perky set of boobs.

As Wendy approached, Cindy turned to her friend and said opps as she deliberately knocked another jar of jam onto the floor. Wendy was furious. I had never see her so mad. After a second she ordered me to go to aisle 6 and grab some packaging tape, “Hurry.” I returned in time to see Wendy grab Cindy and quickly pin her arm behind her back. Wendy was being careful not to step in the slippery mess from the jam jars. Sandy, obviously quite drunk and incapacitated watched in horror as Wendy walked with Cindy down to the end of the aisle and pinned Cindy up against a post. She quickly grabbed both of Cindy’s hands behind her back and wrapped them around the pole. She then called for the tape. As Wendy held both hands around the post she barked out orders for me to tape Cindy’s wrists up good and tight. By Now Cindy was cussing a blue streak. She made the mistake of saying that Jim was a lousy lover anyway which only intensified Wendy’s anger. In no time Cindy was tightly tied to the post and Wendy was wrapping tape around here ankles. I was told to put tape over her eyes too.

Wendy then went to get Sandy. She told me to get a plastic chair from the outdoor section. When I returned Wendy wasted no time in taping Sandy’s arms to the chair arms and her ankles to the chair legs. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Both girls were still screaming but since no one was in the store it did not make much difference. Wendy said that she was going to finish locking up and turning some lights off and told me to do some grocery shopping.

If these girls want to make a mess we’ll make a mess alright were her words as she told me to get several dozen eggs, several bottles of syrup, some chocolate sauce, some whipping cream, some vegetable oil, and all the cakes and pies more than two days old in the bakery. I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I warned Wendy that she could get in trouble. With that she grabbed Cindy’s purse and riffled through her wallet finding about sixty dollars. She said that would take care of most of the groceries. I asked her if Cindy would call the cops and she said no way. Cindy had erased all the computer hard drives before she left the sorority house and they had decided not to press charges but had evidence to threaten her with if she thought about complaining. After about 5 minutes I was back where Wendy had the girls tied up. Wendy was calmed down and clearly enjoying the squirming and predicament that the girls were in. She asked me which one first. I thought it was only fair to have Cindy watch her friend Sandy first. Cindy’s eyes were uncovered but we put tape over her mouth to quiet her down. Sandy was scared and appeared a little more sober as she straightened up when she began to realize what was in store for her. Wendy said that she though she would start with some nice slippery vegetable oil. I handed her a half gallon jug and removed the top. Wendy wasted no time at all. She placed the open bottle top in the cleavage between Sandy’s breasts and inverted the bottle. She let it pour out down the valley between Sandy’s boobs. The whole bottle went inside her top and I watched in delight as it gradually soaked through and ran down the full front of her dress. Some oil overflowed and ran down the outside of her dress to her lap. Wendy stepped back to admire her work. The glistening oil accentuated the tight black dress and looked outrageously sexy under the bright store flourescent light. “What next?” she said. I hesitated. Wendy said, “Well Chuck, you are going to have to help me clean this mess up so you might as well enjoy it too.” Whipping cream was too obvious, cream pies on that black dress would have looked good but I decided on the eggs next. I opened several cartons and carefully took one egg out. I had to laugh at the look on Sandy’s face as I approached with the eggs. I cracked the first one over her head and let is slowly run out on the top of her head. Wendy said, “don’t be bashful, eggs are cheap”. I picked up the pace and quickly smashed two handfuls of eggs over Sandy’s head. Enough that egg whites and yokes were now flowing down all sides of her head. It looked fantastic and I took several more eggs in hand. I cracked a few and let them slide down her front. Wendy said “Its time to put something down her back. How about a few jars of applesauce. No complaint from we, My job was too open the bottles as Wendy pushed Sandy forward in the chair and moved her long, now black, egg covered hair out of the way. Sandy gasped as the applesauce began its journey down her back inside her dress. Wendy was clearly having a ball. She decided is was pie time. Two cream pies, one of each side of Sandy’s head were next. It was unbelievable the mess Wendy made when two large pies landed on Sandy’s face and piles of filing and crust dropped off onto her lap and down the sides of her dress. Next Wendy asked for a can of whipping cream. I could not believe as she slowly spread Sandy’s legs partially apart and stuck her hand with the can of whipping cream up the front of Sandy’s short, once black party dress. As Sandy’s dress was pushed up toward her crotch, the lacy tops of her stocking came into view. The straps of a black lace garter belt were now about 4 inches visible. Sandy squirmed as the cold whipping cream sprayed out between her legs inside her dress. Wendy called for another can as the whipping cream began to ooz out from between Sandy’s legs. Sandy was getting a little noisy so Wendy shoved a heavily frosted birthday cake into her face.

Wendy stepped back a few steps to admire her work. “Well,” “she said, “should we finish this one or start the next one now. “What do you mean finish” I said. “There might still be some clean spots.” was Wendy’s response. “We’ll need to check.” “Began thinking about what we should do to Cindy.” Wendy went back over to Sandy and slid the shoulder straps from her dress down over the sides of her shoulders. I was rock hard as the two soaked tits encased in a lacy push up bra came into better view. Wendy said “Why don’t you smear some pudding on these tits.” She handed me some pre-made pudding. What’s a guy to do? I peeled off the serving container top and dumped a blob of pudding on first one then the other breast. A few more of the individual serving size containers and I had a nice pile of pudding oozing slowly down Sandy’s boobs. I hesitated briefly then with both hands massaged in the pudding. Sandy had long since given up any verbal protesting and squirming and seemed resigned to just waiting out this ordeal. This was awesome fun. It was a good thing I did not stop and think about it too much or I would have been scared shitless to be rubbing pudding on the tits of a woman tied up in my place of employment. After several seconds of careful massaging I think even Sandy was beginning to enjoy it.

Wendy interrupted by asking, What should we do to Cindy?” I said, “Do you mean should we let her go?” and Wendy said, “Of course not, I mean what stuff should we dump on her.” Wendy was thinking about using canned dog food on her and I quickly interjected and suggested that we use syrup and honey first. I thought brown pancake syrup would contrast just right with her off- white skirt and blouse. I turned my attention to Cindy as Wendy grabbed the syrup bottles and ordered me to get several more. Wendy walked around Cindy as if to size up her next victim. Let’s work on her back side first.” Wendy suggested. She grabbed Cindy’s waistband and began pouring a bottle of Log Cabin down Sandy’s skirt back. Now Cindy had one nice ass. Wendy slapped it smartly after the first bottle then rubbed Cindy’s skirt to squish around the bulge that the syrup had left in Sandy’s bottom. The heavy syrup was slowly spreading around and starting to soak through. A second bottle followed then a third and fourth. Syrup now overflowed her waist band and ran down over the back of her skirt. Syrup was now making its way down her legs as well having soaked through or seeped out of Sandy’s panties.

Wendy next instructed me to pour a couple of bottles of strawberry ice cream topping down the front of Sandy’s skirt while she left to get some other supplies. I couldn’t imagine what she had planned now. Being the loyal employee I removed the tops of two bottles and stuck them, one at a time, in the waistband of Cindy’s skirt far enough to hold the bottles. They made the sound of a think liquid bubbling as the syrup ran out and air filled the bottles. It wasn’t long before the telltale signs of strawberry syrup could be seen below Sandy’s mid calf length skirt.

Wendy returned with a gleam in her eye. I though she was calming down and her anger was dissipating but I guessed not as she walked over to Cindy with a scissors. First she grabbed the long slit skirt Cindy was wearing. Pulling apart the slit and exposing some awfully shapely legs she took the scissors and began cutting from the top of the slit toward Cindy’s waist. Let’s see what’s in here she said. I shook my head in disbelief as the tops of once white, lace stockings came into view. In no time Cindy was standing there modeling a beautiful pair of embroidered panties, a matching garter belt and those classy stockings. This was the kind of lingerie that came from the best department stores. Wendy had just destroyed a skirt that might have cost a hundred bucks and she was not done yet. Wendy asked if we should do her top before or after we plastered her with more food. I voted to do both. It was my turn to go again and time again to do some pies. Cindy’s face and hair were still unmessed though she looked sweaty and slightly unkept from the earlier struggle. A pumpkin pie to the face was first. Nice shot if I do say so myself. The orange looked nice as it slowly fell from her face and rolled down her front. The front of here blond hair was partially covered too – but we were just beginning. A cherry pie followed – right on target on her left breast. Now were talking real breasts here. Cindy looked to be a 38 C cup in my opinion – can’t do much better than that. This was getting really messy. Cindy had long since given up protesting too. An apple pie was carefully smashed on the right breast – hey we didn’t happen to have all cream pies in stock.

Wendy was back to work on Sandy. She had cut the dress straps further exposing Sandy’s lacy black bra. She was at work on the hem of the skirt. Once she cut through the hem she started to yank at the dress and started a nice rip toward the waist. Some more snipping and yanking and it wasn’t long before Wendy had the dress completely cut off. These were two hot chicks, Sandy sitting there in a puddle of slimy food in black thong panties, and a coordinated bra and garter belt. Cindy standing in off-white panties, garter belt ans stocking with a messed up blouse still covering her top.

Still mumbling something about these bitches will never mess with me again, Wendy next turned back to Cindy. Cindy’s front was covered by pies that just about completely obscured her tank top style blouse. Her cleavage was mounded with pie filing and her face was still mostly covered. Wendy started on Cindy’s blouse next and quickly had the front cut completely open. Unbelievable. The thick consistency of the pie filling had kept it from completely soaking through the blouse so once the blouse was gone most of Cindy’s front was a clean target. “Syrup and honey time.” said Wendy. What gorgeous boobs cradled in a fancy embroidered bra with lace trimming and sheer panels on the top half. My hand shook as I approached with a bottle of honey. I poured generously near her neck and watched with eager anticipation as the honey slowly made its way down Cindy’s front. Flowing out over the tops of her boobs with a heavy stream collecting in her cleavage and disappearing down her bra quickly filling the valley. Two more bottles of honey followed. Wendy had now opened some pancake syrup and asked me to pour it over Cindy’s head. Cindy briefly wiggled to try avoid her fate but quickly gave up as streams of syrup began flowing over her hair and down her face. The syrup dripped onto her front and followed the honey down over her bra and beyond, streaming down her stomach and onto her garter belt, panties and stockings. I couldn’t resist and massaged those massive breasts with both hands. Never had I felt such lovely orbs. Cindy seemed emotionless, perhaps to tired to care, perhaps so many guys had handled these things that she didn’t much care if yet another guy was rubbing her boobs.

Two gorgeous women in sexy lingerie cover with all manner of substances and tied up in a grocery store. What could be next. Wendy final seemed to be running out of steam. As we both stepped back I asked her if she was done yet. We briefly talked about what to do with them and how to get them home. Wendy asked Cindy is she had had enough yet. “I need an apology before I untie you and take you home.” ” No way!” said Cindy.

Wendy walked over to Cindy and with each hand grabbed one of the cups of her bra. With a very hard tug the front hook ripped open and out spilled two gorgeous mounds. “Whipping cream.” ordered Wendy. Hey, when it’s gone this far, why not go all the way. The first can went down her panties until it seeped out the top. The next can went on Cindy’s chest and the third can on Cindy’s face and hair. No, not the scissors, I yelled to no avail as Wendy had grabbed the waistband of Cindy’s garter belt and panties and was snipping away. I thought I would come in my pants as she revealed what I later learned was one of the hardest working pussys in town. I could hardly stand up straight.

Wendy told Cindy to apologize or Sandy would be next. No response and Wendy was quickly snipping away. Off with the black lace bra, panties, and garter belt. Two completely nude (except for stockings and remnants of garter belts) campus cuties in our store.

“Ready to apologize?” said Wendy. “What else can you do?” said Cindy. “There’s carrots and cucumbers in the produce section.” threatened Wendy. Cindy blurted out a begrudging apology.

It took us about three four to clean up. We drove Cindy and Sandy home wrapped in towels at 4:00 am. I went home to the shower and a good night sleep.

The Art of Stress Reduction

— by Anonymous —

Julie has never visited a confectionery factory before. What a large building it was, she thinks. Such pretty tubs and vats of sweet goo. She lingers behind, losing the tour group and the guide. At last she is alone. She is happy. She is eager to play. She is waiting for nightfall.

She slips out of character for just a moment, for the last time this evening. Recalls where the car is parked, where the keys are hid. She likes to pretend she is this simple girl, child-like and eager to explore. It is a device that helps her shed the pressures of her tense job. She puts her mind in neutral. She puts her guilt on hold, her various analysis will have to wait. She starts to feel peaceful again. She smiles innocently and thinks, this will be fun! She is absorbed with her character again. She feels very girlish again. She is Julie again.

The plant closes and everyone is gone. Everyone but Julie. She walks around, window-shopping the different areas inside the plant. The air smells sugary-sweet. Julie is excited. She walks into a large white room with big vats. She walks curiously up to a big chrome nozzle, cleverly connected to a huge clear vat of custard. The nozzle is connected to the big custard vat by a kind of silver hose. She thinks maybe the custard is the kind of filling that it squirted warm into the doughnuts and pies.

She slowly strokes the cool nozzle, and gently lifts the handle, lightly touching the trigger. The handle is black and heavy. She runs her fingers along the smooth silver hose absently. The vat is many times bigger than she is. So much custard, she thinks! Gently she squeezes the trigger with her right hand. A blob of thick warm custard immediately appears in her left palm. It is about the size of a quarter.

She licks her palm. The taste is good. The warm custard is heavy in her hand and in her mouth.

She squeezes again, this time very hard. A heavy gush of the warm sticky custard greets her, splashing thickly over her palm and all over her arm. Some of it splashes onto her new black tank top. She feel the warmth of the heavy filling through the fabric. She stops squeezing and giggles quietly. But she is breathing quickly. It comes out so fast! She can hear the thick drops splat noisily onto the floor near her feet, and her ankles are nice and warm where the mess is splattering. The custard drips down her ankles and into her clean white sneakers. Her faded jeans look creamy in spots. Slowly, carefully, she licks her fingers.

The taste of the filling is good, very good. She is a little sad that her tank top, so clean and black just seconds before is all messy now. But the yellow custard looks so pretty on the soft black material. She is glad she is not wearing socks. She is glad she is not wearing a bra or panties. Just jeans, tank top and sneakers. She shakes her hair back from her tanned face. This is fun!

Just one last squirt from the custard hose before she moves on, she decides. Julie wonders where to aim the nozzle. Then she stands like the policewomen she has seen on TV, crouched and holding the custard-gun, with a serious look on her face. But she points the nozzle is at her, not away. Freeze! she thinks to some imaginary criminal. Julie is a little nervous, wondering what it will feel like. She squeezes the trigger hard, and holds it.

The massive blast of warm custard is stronger than she thought it would be. Julie feels the warm strong flow actually tear the left shoulder strap of her tank top right off her shoulder. For a moment her left breast is caught in the warm gushing custard flow and she moans quietly, closing her eyes. The nozzle slides out of her slippery hands, and crashes to the floor, hissing like a snake before it stops. The thick flow splashes gallons of creamy custard all over her hair, face, down her tank top and down her jeans. So much custard!. Warm custard is all over the floor, and all over her! It drips slowly down her face, down her neck and down into what‰s left of her tank top. She licks her sweetened lips happily and absently tickles her exposed nipple with one finger while she thinks. She slicks her creamy hair back with her free hand.

The custard is oozing down her legs inside her jeans and softly filling her sneakers. And Julie is pleased with what has happened. From her hair and face all the way down to her toes she is covered in soft warm custard. So slippery and good! She feels like a gooey, yummy dessert. She wraps her arms around herself happily and smiles, feeling her exposed left breast slide against her arm. The custard makes little gooey, messy noises. She wiggles her toes in her custard-filled sneakers. It makes her feel peaceful and care-free to be so messy. But at the same time it makes her excited. How delicious it is! How delicious she is!

There is lots of time to wander through the factory, she thinks. Should she go find the frosting, or cover herself in sprinkles? Should she explore something that’s creamy, or that’s thick and chocolatey? Thick, raw dough might be fun, and so might the sticky, sugary glaze for the doughnuts. Julie wonders. Thick is good, she thinks, but so is smooth and runny. So many tasty treats and textures to play in and tease herself with. Maybe she could even find something thick and rich to swim in!

Her clothes are so messy. She considers just stripping them off. The thought makes her breath come in little excited gasps. Playing naked in sticky gooey foods would be so much fun! Plus dawn is many, many hours away. She slips out of her sneakers, messy and happy, and pads off silently in search of something else that can melt her tension like butter, that’s sweet and sticky and fun.

Cream Pie Delight

— by Mark —

She looked at me from across the room with a knowing smile and walked confidently over to me. “Do you find the way I look attractive”, she asked looking directly into my eyes. I managed a weak nod of my head … but no words. “Let me help”, she offered. “Could it be perhaps my luxury fluffy purple mohair jumper that’s setting your pulse racing? Maybe my long straight shiny blonde hair that stretches down to my slim waist? Of course it could be the soft angora leggings I’m wearing … I know its all of those things. But the real thing that’s going to get YOU going is that pretty Belinda is yearning to be smeared in thick cream pies.” She whispered this secret desire into my right ear. As she placed a suggestive arm around my shoulder, I could feel the sensual mohair of her sleeve against my neck.

“I have a room upstairs” I offered, having only checked into the hotel an hour previously. I hadn’t counted on running into this vision of a woman when I dropped down to the bar for quick beer. I continued … “we could continue our conversation in more relaxed surroundings … although I’m not sure how we could satisfy your desire for ‘dessert’!”. “That’s something my friend can help us with”; her friend Becky walked over towards us, sporting a huge grin … she was ready for fun. “Lets go. Becky will bring our cases up to your room.”

Belinda followed me closely up to the room and as soon as we were inside she threw down a large black canvas overnight bag. “I’ve got some goodies in there if you’re a good boy – but first, lets get acquainted.” She led me to the edge of the bed and began to undress me. As she did, she made sure to brush my skin with her beautiful mohair clad body – it felt divine. She looked stunning. Her breasts were large and fluffy … when I was fully naked, she asked me to sit on the edge of the bed … and then she sat astride me, pushing her full fluffy breasts into my face. I rubbed my hands over her firm buttocks – the sensation of the softest angora ripped through my body. Eventually, she lifted my head, and brushed her long blonde hair against my face before kissing me deeply with her shockingly pink lips. “I afraid this is going to be the most pleasurable night of your life”, she mocked … I knew already that this would be true, but I had know idea of the extent of the pleasure she had in store for me.

Becky arrived, and Belinda let her into the room. She had two very large cases with her. Out of one, Becky tool a large pink fur blanket and spread it across my bed. “Lie back on that”, she said, “it’ll keep your back warm”. I needed no weak excuse – and lay down onto the fur, almost coming with the sensation on my skin.

Belinda continued, “Now, you look a little excited. So before we begin, why don’t I help relieve a little of that?”. Why not indeed!

Belinda opened her canvas bag and showed me a pair of fur mittens and a fur bonnet – matching her sweater perfectly. “These are for me” she announced as she put the mittens on her hands. Immediately she placed my cock between her mittened hands and began to rub me gently. She moved her head closer and blew softly over my erection. “In a moment, I’m going to put you into my mouth and suck ’till you come. But this time, you’re not to watch … not yet.” She took the fur bonnet and reversed it …. soft fur on the inside. She knew instinctively that I’d love to have it tightly over my face as she sucked me off …. I could only last a couple of minutes before exploding into her luscious mouth.

Belinda removed the fur bonnet from my face and told me that I’d need to look closely at the special preparation that Becky was making for us ……

On the other side of the room, on the large table were twenty or so huge cream pies. Becky had been making them whilst I had been losing my mind with Belinda. Also out of one of the cases came three enormous containers full of custard. Becky began, “This looks very exciting Belinda, I’ve plenty of your favorite treats in store”, and Belinda smiled broadly. “But first, we’d better secure him.”

With that, they took two soft angora scarves each and secures my arms and legs to the corners of the bed. Belinda moved into position, straddling me on the bed. She sat upright, her mane of long hair brushed over to one side covering the right side of her face and down the right side of her body – it glistened …. and she smiled with expectation. Belinda spoke. “Now wouldn’t it be a terrible shame to spoil all this beautiful mohair that I’m wearing?”. She rubbed her fur mittens across her breasts and breathed deeply. “But I’m no longer in control now – Becky is the Pie Mistress … and she’ll do whatever she likes”.

Becky moved towards us with two very large cream pies in her hands. Slowly, she pushed the first pie into Belinda’s face who squealed with excitement. She gently rotated the pie, ensuring that the thick cream had been pushed into every contour of Belinda’s lovely face. The second pie landed on Belinda’s furry chest and was massaged over her large breasts. This was pure delight to watch … all the time, Belinda squirmed with ecstasy above me …. gently rubbing her angora covered crotch over my pulsing hard-on. If only I’d had a camera at that very point, Belinda’s face was 100% pied and the front of her soft jumper was well pied too, whilst her long blonde hair still cascaded down to her waist untouched ….. not for long though.

“Do you want some more Belinda?”, asked Becky. “Oh yes, oh much more – we’ve only just begun!”, cried Belinda through the mass of cream on her face. Pies started to fly at Belinda’s hair until eventually she was completely smeared with the luxurious cream pie. Belinda stroked her hair with her fluffy mittens until they too were laden with the pie mixture … “That’s better …. much better. But I hope that dessert is going to be served with some custard, Becky?”.

Of course it was – and plenty of it too. Becky lifted the first of the containers full of custard above Belinda’s head and started to pour it slowly. The thick yellow custard rolled down Belinda’s face and hair, over her breasts and down onto my stomach. Belinda’s hands reached down and began to guide the pool of custard on my stomach down to the stiffness of my prick. The custard felt cool against the heat of my cock … soon I would explode again.

“Oh, how greedy of me”, Belinda observed after the second container of custard had streamed down her body … and eventually reaching my prick. “I didn’t offer you any cream pie.” Becky hadn’t forgotten …. “I’ve saved some especially for him. And since he really enjoyed having his head in your fur bonnet – he can put it over his face and head once again …. this time filled to the brim with cream pie mixture.”

She wasn’t joking. Becky offered the bonnet to Belinda to push over my begging face. Belinda remarked on just how lucky … and I knew it too! At that moment she tugged down her custard covered angora leggings and guided my penis inside – I smiled at her. She moved up and down on my shaft for a few moments whilst teasing me with the huge cream pie in front of my face.

Finally she slowly pushed the mega-pie into my face, at and that instant I exploded for a second time; this time deep inside her. What a feeling – I’d been tied up and dominated like this for seemingly hours – surely it would have to end soon?

After a short while, Belinda took the bonnet off my head revealing my pied face. “I’m sure you know that you’re still hard … and I’m going to have to do something about that, aren’t I?”. She changed position on top of me so that she was on all fours – her face above my cock, and her pussy over my face. “How about a couple more pies, Becky?” pleaded Belinda, and Becky obliged – the first was smeared into Belinda’s face again providing a thick fresh coating of pie – the second was smeared over her pussy and buttocks, just inches away from my face.

“Let’s do it then!”, Belinda exclaimed as she opened her mouth and brought her lips down to the base of my penis, cupping my balls in her well pied mittens. As she became more aroused, I sensed the inevitable ….. her cream pie pussy was moving towards me … I had seconds before my face was covered in creamy heaven again. At that instant Becky added a little extra to our play ….

I felt loads of thick gloop running over the head of my prick, and then Belinda resume her oral treat. And then I knew what it must have been, as I saw piles of chocolate sauce appear over Belinda’s firm buttocks and roll down onto my face from between her legs.

Eventually, as I had yearned for it, Belinda’s cream laden pussy was being rubbed firmly into my face and I could return some of the pleasure that she had spoiled me with. Her orgasm was wild and violent, putting the finishing touch to the sundae on my face. Then for a third and final time I climaxed …. inside the mouth of the exquisite pie maiden.

I remember feeling as excited as I’ve ever felt, being caressed by the soft mohair clad Belinda, her fur mittens and angora covered legs …….. but that was before the ecstasy of the luxurious cream pies!!! If this is the dream of other sensual women out there ….. I’ll be your ‘victim’.

Please Pie Me

— by Anonymous —

Nothing normally happened on a Monday night, and that Monday was no exception. I was sitting at home … feeling dead horny!

I ran up to the bedroom and watched myself take off my clothes in the mirror. I kicked my pumps off and forced my tight lycra skirt to the floor revealing my tiny panties. I faced myself in the mirror, admiring the ways my tits looked so desirable in that new hi-fluff mohair top I’d bought at the weekend. Slowly I pushed my fingers below my panty-line and began to play with myself gently … I was already warm and wet.

This was great, but I wanted something more …. I called Brian… “Brian, I’d like you to get round here straight away I need a good pie-ing”. Brian hesitated on the phone and eventually said “I’m not quite sure what you mean Jessica”. “What I mean is that you’re going to get your ass around here and smother my face, my hair, my fluffy top and every other part of my body with creamy pies … and then, when I’m satisfied, I’m going to fuck your brains out. OK?”.

“Don’ t move” replied Brian, and within ten minutes he was in my kitchen. I’d had the stuff in for weeks … enough stuff to make about 150 pies to a really good recipe that Sally had recommended. She and I had been into serious splattering for years, and often had to resort to a good plastering session together – our men friends were sometimes quite horrified by the idea! … Still, their loss! I’d been seeing Brian for about two weeks, and teasing his prick something rotten – I hadn’t yet taken him, but tonight would be the night if he played his cards right. Until that phone call, I hadn’t given any hint of my wonderful fetish to Brian … no, sorry I’m lying, I did push a cream cake down the front of his trousers as we left the bakery a few days ago – he looked rather shocked and surprised, but started to smile as I rubbed my hands over the front of his trousers … his prick must have been smothered with the stuff … and he hardened up instantly!

But back to the pie mix. I went rather mad … by the time Brian arrived, there were 30 or so VERY big pies on the kitchen table, some plain cream and some with hints of pink and yellow colouring – they looked wonderful. Brian walked over to me with a look of astonishment on his face. I picked up the largest pink pie, kissed Brian on the lips and said “Now take this pie and give me a hair wash!”. Brian was wonderful, he simply obeyed. First one pie, then another, then another. I had lots of hair to cover … my straight blonde waist length hair needed a good five or six pies, and it looked great in the kitchen mirror – pink, yellow and white pied hair mmmmmm……

“Brian, you bad boy! You’ve dropped a bit of pie on my mohair top. Oh well, its not the end of the world, you’d better give the rest of it a good smothering – and make sure you don’t miss my tits!”. Another six or seven pies later and my top was covered. Brian didn’t need much convincing to unload a load of pie into my panties too!

He began to get rather carried away. His fingers pushed the gorgeous cream into my pussy – a finger pie fuck!! “No. Not yet!” I cried weakly. I looked at him with my big brown eyes and whispered sedutively, “My face has been quite untouched by all this frantic activity … if I were you Brian, I’d pie my fucking face!”. When he smeared that first pie over my face, I felt the thick cream push gently up my nostrils … and I opened my mouth to let it invade me. Oh, how I needed it badly. The second pie to my face was a real SPLAT! Brian rubbed it in roughly, showing me no mercy …. I came in my creamy panties immediatly.!

Brian had certainly earned his fuck. I pushed him onto the floor and lay on top of him, easing my pied mohair-clad tits to within two inches of his face. I’d already opened up his trousers and freed his enlarged prick … the head of his prick wavered just outside my creamy cunt waiting for me. I had the last two pies … one in each hand either side of his head.

As he looked up at my creamed face I said, “Well done Brian, you passed the induction … this is for you …” And with that, I lowered my pussy to engulf his cock, pushed a pie into each side of his head and rubbed my pie covered tits into his face – all simultaneously. It took him three seconds to come! What a great pie fucker I must be!!!

Messy Slaves

— by Anonymous —

It was my first year of college at the University of Texas in Austin. I grew up in San Antonio and therefore didn’t have much of a commute to continue seeing my girlfriend Jennifer, who was finishing off her senior year of high school. Another close female friend of mine from the same school was in Jennifer’s class. Her name was Brandy and she was some kind of gorgeous. I had dated Brandy off and on during my last year of high school and she and Jennifer were good friends. Whenever I saw either of the girls alone, they would not hesitate to tell me about all the gossip and stories they related to each other about me and my sexual appetite. Curiously, I found out separately that they both fantasized about the other and wished to experiment with these bisexual fantasies but neither would ever approach the other out of fear that the feelings weren’t shared.

Once I knew this, I immediately set out to bring them together, so to speak, and conjured up a plan that would enable them to act on their respective fantasies. Of course I had my share of fantasies and this situation was almost too good to be true.

Jennifer and I played scrabble routinely, nearly every weekend I cam home. I estimate a 60-40 percent win ratio – her favor, and we had become very competitive over the months we were together. One evening, I suggested we play for stakes. I announced that I wanted an hour of slavery as my prize. She said that was a good prize and bet my unlimited obedience for an hour too. Well, I completely thrashed her; Wearing a grin from ear to ear, I said I have plans for her slavery and would exact payment some time in the future.

The following weekend, Brandy came to Austin to see me. We were sitting around my dorm room, drinking a couple of beers when I held up a dime. I put it down on my desk and placed a shot-glass behind it about 5 inches away. I said:

“I bet I can put that dime in that glass without touching either one.” She looked at the set up and said that I was drunk and full of it.

“No, really — I bet you an hour’s worth of slavery, that I can put THAT dime in THAT glass without touching anything.. hands behind my back.”

“O.K., deal,” she said, “I can use a slave for an hour.”

I thought everyone knew this old bar trick; I was glad she didn’t. I kneeled down in front of the desk and put my lips to the edge. Blowing hard, I quickly raised my head up. With a “pop” the dime flipped up and into the glass. Brandy was shocked. I was elated. I told Brandy to stay in town next weekend, because that was when I would collect. She said she had to stay in town because her parents were leaving for the week. “Perfect” I said through my grin.

The next weekend, I went to Brandy’s house after doing a little shopping. Brandy greeted me at the door, wondering what was in the supermarket bags. “It is a surprise, slave. Go upstairs and put on white cotton panties, an old bra, T-shirt and ratty shorts.” Obediently, she went to change. While she changed, I called Jennifer and told her that as my slave, she had to come to Brandy’s house wearing an old pair of denim shorts and my white button down shirt (that I had forgotten there, much to the suspicious suprise of her father). She agreed and within a few minutes, the doorbell announced the beginning of my evening’s plan. The girls immediately knew something devious had been planned and Brandy began to playfully object, I quickly said: “Is there some kind of problem, slave?”

“No sir”

“What about you, slave?” I said to Jennifer.

“No sir”

I smiled as they accepted my authority willingly. I knew they both desired experimentation with each other, and I was ready to give them an arousing, (messy) evening.

I reached into one of the bags and tossed Jennifer a package from K-mart. It was a painter’s mat — a large, clear plastic tarp to keep paint off furniture and carpeting. I commanded Brandy to help me move the couch in the living room and we cleared a large area, perfect for my sexy slaves.

Jennifer had her gorgeous, long, brunette hair in a braid and I asked her to undo it. She was 5’10” and that hair was fully half her shapely length. Brandy was a couple inches shorter, with shoulder-length brown hair. Both had stunning bodies, and I longed to see them together. I commanded Brandy to spread the mat out and kneel in the center. Jennifer looked slyly at me. She must have realized that I was going to give her a long-awaited fantasy, and she smiled. I told Jennifer to kneel in front of Brandy, about a foot away. She complied and the long-time friends faced each other with mischievous, sexy grins. I reached into the bag for the first item — a large can of chocolate pudding. I commanded brandy to stick her finger in it and feed a bit to Jennifer. Jennifer began to suck the chocolate off Brandy’s finger, and Brandy closed her eyes in obvious sensual arousal. “Now dab a bit on her mouth.” I commanded. Brandy streaked the chocolate vertically on Jennifer’s lips. “Lick that up please, Brandy, you are making a mess!” Brandy leaned forward and kissed the chocolate lips. The girls hungrily kissed, darting their tongues in and out of each other’s mouth. Jennifer brought her hands up to touch Brandy and I quickly said “No no, not yet; Jennifer, take the pudding and scoop some into your hands.” Jennifer complied, creating heaping handfuls of the stuff. “You may now touch Brandy’s breasts.” Jennifer cupped Brandy’s breasts through the pale blue T-shirt leaving large dark handprints. She began to rub her hands back and forth across Brandy’s chest, creating a wonderful chocolate smear. Some of the pudding dripped on to Brandy’s shorts and legs. “What a terrible mess you have made, Jennifer. Brandy, if you forgive her, give her a kiss.” Brandy and Jennifer kissed again. Jennifer brought her soiled hands to Brandy’s face and smeared her cheeks with the residual pudding.

“Jennifer,” I said, Unbutton your shirt 2 more buttons.” Jennifer undid the buttons, and her shirt parted, revealing that she had not worn a bra. The curves of her breasts were so inviting, I almost gave up my role as master right there. “O.K. Brandy, here is some whipped cream, Fill up Jennifer’s shirt please.” Brandy took the can and squirted away. Jennifer helped by holding open her shirt. Both of the girls were seemingly hypnotized by the frothy white mess. When the can finally ran out, I asked Jennifer to lean back. She leaned back and stretched out on the mat, propping herself up on her elbows. White whipped cream was everywhere in her partially open shirt. “Brandy, please unbutton Jennifer the rest of the way.” Brandy leaned forward and untucked the shirt, working each button until Jennifer’s beautiful, creamy torso was exposed. She opened the shirt completely and I told her to snack on those lovely breasts. Brandy leaned forward, sticking her face into the cream. The white stuff oozed up around her ears and she began to move her head around Jennifer’s chest. Jennifer threw back her head in pleasure, while Brandy mouthed and licked her breasts. I let them go at it awhile before backing Brandy away. Her face and bangs were completely covered in whipped cream and her dark eyes were absolutely glassy with excitement. “What we need here ladies is a full contact embrace.” As Jennifer sat up, Brandy stripped off the cream-covered shirt. The two girls pressed together tightly. Whipped cream plopped to the mat and they kissed again. The whipped cream from Jennifer’s body clung to Brandy’s T-shirt, mixing with the pudding and now both faces were white with whipped cream. “Brandy, your shirt is a mess. Jennifer, help her take it off, please.” Jennifer lifted the messy shirt over Brandy’s head, soiling her hair even more in the process. Brandy’s dark hair was now streaked with whipped cream, and matted with sticky pudding. Brandy adjusted her bra and leaned forward to kiss Jennifer again. “Hold on, please.” I commanded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. “Ladies! please.” They stopped and looked at me in playful irritation. “There are still a few things in here.”

I produced a carton of eggs, causing a little squirming from the slaves. “Brandy, please get on all fours.” She complied, kneeling in a patch of white goo. “Brandy, arch your back. And Jennifer, take 4 eggs, crack them gently on the table and deposit them down the back of Brandy’s shorts. She broke open the eggs and each yolk slid down the small of Brandy’s back and disappeared into her shorts. Brandy wiggled her ass to feel the gooey deposit. “Brandy, please do the same down the front of Jennifer’s shorts.” Brandy sat back and took the eggs. An audible “squish” was heard in Brandy’s pants and egg-goo dribbled out from the bottom of her shorts. Jennifer held open her shorts while Brandy plopped the yolks in. Some clear, viscous egg white dripped down Jennifer’s legs. “A few over her head, please.” Brandy parted a shell over Jennifer’s head and the orange slime oozed down her long hair, followed by another. “Jennifer, break two in Brandy’s bra.” Jennifer stretched Brandy’s bra out with a finger, briefly exposing a beautiful pink, erect nipple. She dumped the egg in and released it back, and did likewise with the other cup. The bra became semi-transparent with the liquid and clear ooze squeezed out the top and dripped out on to the floor. “Oh, disgusting.” I said.. “take off that soiled bra, Brandy” She reached behind and unclasped the bra. Jennifer watched hungrily as Brandy slipped her arms out, dropping the messy thing to the ground. Her breasts glistened with egg and Jennifer reached out to caress them. I let this spontaneous display continue, watching them kiss and touch each other’s skin until I thought I would explode.

“Girls, kindly help each other out of your shorts.” Brandy laid back into the eggy, creamy mess and unbuttoned her shorts. Jennifer wrestled them off, causing more egg to splat onto the mat. Jennifer stroked Brandy’s exposed thighs and Brandy moaned with delight. Then Jennifer reclined back, and Brandy returned the favor. Jennifer’s panties were wet with egg and her own arousal.

I commanded them to sit up and face me. I took a long look at the two messy beauties, clad only in white panties and various smears. What exquisite erotic art! “More chocolate!” I exclaimed and took out a squeeze bottle of Hershey’s syrup. “Lay back, both of you.” They obediently responded. I squeezed a sticky, brown puddle between Brandy’s breasts and circled them with the stream. Down her milky, white belly, I paused to squirt the syrup all over her panties. I doused both thighs and watched the gooey brown liquid drip to both sides of her shapely legs. I switched to Jennifer and blazed a chocolate trail up and down her legs too. I turned her navel into a pool of syrup and emptied the bottle up and down her creamed torso and breasts.

“One last touch, ladies. Please sit up – on your knees.” I reached into the bag and got the remaining pudding cans. “Please open your panties for me.” They complied wordlessly and I walked to Jennifer. She was an amazing mess. Chocolate syrup dripped from the ends of her nipples and I could hear the “plop plop” on the plastic mat. I peered down her panties at her neatly trimmed bush and poured the pudding in. What a delightful mess! She released her panties and the bulge of pudding began to stain through. I turned my attention to Brandy, who was obediently kneeling, pulling her panties forward with her thumbs. The syrup was dripping down her torso and running into her pubic hair. I dumped the pudding into her open panties and sat down in a chair to observe “Pat each other’s pudding, please.” They turned to each other and mutually cupped the other’s chocolate crotch. They both moaned gently while warm pudding squished against their pussies and they kissed again as pudding oozed out both sides of their panties in thick globs, dripping down their thighs and splatting on the mat. Each took the chocolate goo that ran into their hands and rubbed it on each other’s breasts and tummy, kissing passionately the whole time.

Having accomplished everything I hoped as a slave-master, I announced their freedom. They continued to kiss and their hands worked up and down each other, spreading the chocolate mess into a beautiful sticky tan. I continued to watch, and they removed their soiled panties, and began to lick at each other’s chocolate pussies. I sat back while they spread out on the mat and explored each other. I left after about a half hour to let them continue in peace and eventually clean themselves up. For them, I knew there was a long night ahead of exploration and I was pretty sure I would get another chance to join in, sometime in the future. I did too, but that is the next story.

My Introduction to Fun with Food

— by Anonymous —

When Diane called me that morning, asking me if I could help her with an art project, I immediately said sure. We had met at college that semester and I liked the confident blonde girl right away. “What kind of art project do you need help with?” I asked.

“Food,” was all she said, mysteriously. Kind of weird I guess. But I agreed anyway, and less than an hour later I was at her apartment.

I was surprised to see her dressed in just an old tee shirt and I guessed some panties, but what the heck. She told me it was a partial nude photography shoot, sort of a commentary on food and sex in society, and did I mind stripping down to panties and an old tee shirt she handed me? Actually I have a great body, and I work hard to keep it that way, so I soon wiggled out of my jeans, socks, shirt and bra and slipped on the soft tee shirt. Thats when she blindfolded me and asked me to sit in the reclining chair shed placed in the kitchen. A little apprehensive, I sat down.

The chair was warm, soft and comfortable. Diane began explaining to me about how food is used is society as a sexual agent, and how eroticism is built into the various products. I half-listened, relaxing in the darkness of the blindfold. “For instance,” she said, “take butter.” Gently I felt her lift the band of my panties away from my waist. A couple drops of smooth butter dripped onto me, and then she gently placed the whole frozen stick right down between my legs, gently replacing the waistband to hold it in position. While she matter-of-factly continued the lecture, all I could feel was the cold, smooth butter pressing against me and actually sliding into me. It was slowly starting to melt a little. It felt unusual. It felt… great.

The camera snapped several times. “Diane…” I began to say but she hushed me. I heard a squishy, moist sound to my right and soon I felt her finger, dipped generously in grape jelly, massage my lips. I licked at her sweet warm fingers but she stopped me, and tapped me lightly on the tip of my nose with her jellied index finger in reprimand. Obediently, I sat still and quietly. Next, a large amount of the warm jelly was slowly poured onto my mouth. It flowed sluggishly down my chin and spattered onto my chest with a satisfying sound. I licked my lips, helplessly. Click, click, went the camera. “Do you see the symbolism?” she asked. But really, the symbolism was lost on me. All I knew was this was starting to feel very good, very good indeed. I had never really felt anything like this before, and all this food felt wonderfully erotic. It was flooding my senses with new and exciting feelings.

“Whats next?” I managed in a husky whisper. “Eggs,” whispered Diane back, and with the crack of two shells, I felt two warm slimy eggs slip down the inside of my shirt. They slid past my now erect nipples and found a home with the softening butter. I felt slippery, juicy. I felt edible. I think I was starting to understand the symbolism. “How do you feel?” she asked gently. “Delicious,” I said. “Edible, erotic, aroused. Yummy. Gooey. Nice.” “Good,” was all she said.

Thats when the warm oatmeal began dripping on my face, slowly at first, then more like a thick luscious torrent. It flowed over my face and oozed over my ears and hair, at one point briefly blocking my briefly. Then she poured the heavy oatmeal over my food-soaked tee shirt, which I desperately wanted to peel off, eventually directing the cement-like goop all and upper body, and finally thickly applying it between my legs. I started feeling orgasmic. Click, click, click, the camera snapped away merrily. The butter was soft and pliable in my panties. The egg yolks broke, flowed down to the very base of me. Ummm. Delicious. When she coated my feet, toes and legs with the thick, soft, creamy oatmeal, I lost control. It just felt too good. Unashamedly, I reached between my legs. “Wait,” she whispered and kissed me lightly, gently removing my hand. I couldnt believe she had kissed me. The camera never stopped.

When the warm, soft pudding flowed down into my panties, I just laid back and grooved to it. I think I remember sighing with satisfaction, my whole being centered on the slowly flowing pudding. I felt so messy and happy, gooey and wiggly. I pulled in my stomach to make it easier for her to fill me up, and she cooed soft encouraging sounds while the pudding caressed me. It was all so mind blowing. I was glad she was in charge. I felt comfortable with her. I would have let her do anything, I think. I was pleased to be captured so naughty and messy on film. Afterwards, I felt exhausted and strange. It was like a whole new world had opened up before me… and poured itself right down my pants. Then, sadly, it was over. “How do you feel?” she finally asked, removing my blindfold. I looked at my body, completely spattered and covered with various slippery foods. It had felt so wonderful. Standing up, I could feel the slow slide of the various substances oozing down my muscular frame. If Diane was worried about food on the floor, she didnt act it. Nope, didnt act it at all. Me? I felt warm, gooey, happy. Sassy, even. Playful. “Like a new woman. Wheres the shower?” I asked laughing. “And next time you have an art project to do..” I hesitated, and then tossed a handful of chocolaty oatmeal I has hidden in my hand at her. It landed on her cheek with a satisfying splat. She looked at me thoughtfully and when the mess dripped down to her lips, she licked it off, and smiled. “…definitely count me in,” I said over my shoulder as I made my way to the shower.

Lisa Cooks for Me

— by Anonymous —

“Wow, and such a lot of it, too!” I stared at the enormous dish of lasagna she had made for me. She knows I love lasagna, and so does she. In fact, it’s what we both ordered at the Italian place that I took her to on our first date a month ago.

I had just gotten home from work, and I was anxious to get out of my dark gray suit. I feel so restricted with a tie on. But she said that I had to come in right away and eat, or it would get cold. So I sat down and started to taste the very first meal she had cooked for me. She had moved in only yesterday, and last night I had had the pleasure of treating her to hamburgers….

The lasagna was absolutely fabulous, as was Lisa. She was exactly the perfect little girl I had always dreamed of. Dark blond hair, almost shoulder length, beautiful tan legs, and a perfect body.

As I praised her cooking, she just gave me the nicest smile you’ve ever seen on a creature on earth, and it was in fact that smile that showed me time and again that she was positively the perfect girl for me.

She was wearing a short dress that went down to her knees, with a pattern of flowers on a white background, held up by two tiny strings over her shoulders. I think she wore her white sneakers on those perfect little feet. We ate a whole lot of lasagna, and when we were both pretty much full there still was a whole lot left. We started joking around, and when I made a little remark to tease her, she took her fork and hurled it at my chest. Needless to mention the piece of lasagna stuck on it hit me right on the silk tie, and ruined it.

I certainly wasn’t going to let her get away with that, and took a piece from my plate and threw it right at her cleavage. I don’t have such great aim, so I hit her above the left breast, and the lasagna slowly dripped down onto her dress.

She really seemed to like what was happening, because she asked me if I couldn’t do better than that, and cut a nice long piece out of what was left on her plate and stuck it right down the middle of her cleavage. You could see the fat soaking right through the dress.

But I couldn’t let her win that way, so I took my glass with the coke, and poured it right over her head saying that sure, I COULD do better than that. She took her plate of lasagna and stuck it right on my chest, mumbling something about revenge, and soon enough we were both smearing eachother with lasagna, and there sure was plenty left in the dish.

She asked me if I didn’t want desert, and I said why not, so she brought the chocolate mousse. If I wanted to taste some? Sure! So she sat back down, dumped a whole bunch of it in her lap, and I started licking away. I was about to say how excellent it was, when she took my head, dug it into the mousse in her lap, and then brought me up to her face. We kissed passionately for a while, then I said I wanted more mousse, kneeled back down and put my head under her dress.

Her little white panties had become soaked with chocolate mousse, and as I started licking at them, the mousse from her lap ran down over my head and into my collar. Lisa was moaning with pleasure, so I pulled down her panties with one finger, grabbed some mousse from her lap with the other hand, and smeared it right into her already moist pussy. First I licked some more, and it was simply beautiful how the excellent taste of the chocolate blended in with Lisa’s own taste, and soon I couldn’t bare it any longer. I got back out, and we laid on the floor together. As I laid on top of her, even the last clean spots on the front of my suit became smeared with a mixture of lasagna and chocolate mousse, and she poured the mousse that was left in the dish right over the back of my head, so that it ran down over my face, and dripped onto her face as we kissed.

Meanwhile she had opened my pants, and I pulled off her panties before pushing my already highly erect penis right into her. As it took the place of the chocolate mousse, the latter splashed out and soon we were fucking and kissing in a puddle of food and mess on the kitchen floor. As our bodies rubbed against eachother, the little pieces of meat in the lasagna tickled us on the stomach and chest which excited us even more.

Soon we both came, and we stayed laying there on the floor for several minutes just holding eachother and kissing slowly, before Lisa confessed that while I was gone she had turned on my computer and had seen my files, specifically the pictures of wet and messy women that I collect.

Just like I had no idea that this had always been a secret dream of hers, she hadn’t known until today that I liked it as well.

We have to celebrate that, I told her, got up and got us a bottle of champagne from the fridge, which I shook and opened, splashing the foam over both of our bodies as we lay on our backs on the floor.

We sat up and I poured some on her mouth, of which she swallowed a small part, and the rest went down on her hair, on her neck, and her cleavage. She poured the rest of the bottle over my face, and while I managed to swallow some, almost the whole champagne went right on my shirt. As we layed back down, and she got on top of me, my back, which had been basically dry, was now lying in a puddle of champagne, and the little bubbles felt very good. Lisa suggested that we should go shower, and I willingly followed her into the bathroom.

We both stood in the shower, hugging and kissing, as she slowly turned on the warm water, and I felt it very carefully running down between us. Soon we changed positions under the showerhead, so that our backs became wet as well, and when we separated for a moment I could see that she was wearing no bra, now that the pieces of lasagna were washing away. Her flowery dress was absolutely gorgeous, and with the weight of the dress the opening came so far down that her erect nipples were directly under the top of the dress. My little friend had become stiff again, and as I entered her from below, I first undid my tie to give me some air to breathe, and then pulled the strings of her dress over her shoulders to let it slide down a little bit. She turned on the water a little stronger, and then she took off my jacket and shirt.

All the food was washing away now, and we were kissing passionately as I was slowly moving inside of her. She was holding me so tight, with her hands on my back, that I had a hard time finding any space between us to caress her breasts with my fingers. But soon she began to melt away under my hands, and I lowered my head to bring my tongue down to her nipples.

The warm water was flowing over us, and as we were standing there, me wearing only my pants, socks and shoes, her wearing her flowery dress and white sneakers, I really wish I could have taken a picture for you there. But I had other things on my mind, and the wet dress felt so good against my stomach, and her back was so perfect and the dress was running down with the water, just over her ass, on which I put one hand now.

After a while of caressing and fucking, she came. The orgasm must have been so strong that she tensed her entire body, threw her head back (almost knocking both of us over) and then bit into my shoulder. That was it for me, and I came inside her too.

(to be continued)

Messy Fun In the College Kitchen

— by Anonymous —

The truth is, I should have never listened to Kathy when she suggested we crash the boy’s stag party. Especially when it was held right in the big culinary kitchen area of the college, for the fraternity. But crash we did, lovely brunette Kathy leading and me following along as usual. I was dressed in a long flowing white dress to accent my long blonde hair, white pumps, the whole nine yards. Kathy looked good in a blue jump suit.

As soon as I saw the guys, I knew we should have never come. They were all pretty drunk and some of the bigger ones started making comments and the like. It got uglier and some of the guys were grinning and really kind of moving in on us.

Kathy turned to me and whispered “Let’s get out of here!”

Too late! One of the big galoots grabbed my arm, and it hurt! I shouted to Kate, “Run!” and breaking free, I sprinted to the door with her!

And with a shout, they were after us, chasing us through the huge food processing part of the college!

Slipping on tiled floor, I wanted to shed those shoes but there was no time. I had never been in this part of the college, and I was completely lost. But I followed Kathy, hoping she would lead us into some labyrinth of rooms we could lose our pursuers in. Instead, we blundered into a large room filled with kettles, each easily large enough to hide two people. I remember thinking hurriedly that they must mass produce the soups or something in here…Kathy grabbed my arm and pulled me toward one of the chromed kettles.

“In here!” she hissed and obediently I tugged the heavy lid back far enough to slip inside the huge pot.

But we were in for a surprise! Inside the kettle was some kind of marshmallow substance, thick and gooey. In desperation she climbed in after me and quietly we sank into almost four feet of the thick, sticky goop. My dress floated on the surface and I could feel the warm goo flowing sluggishly into my shoes, between my toes and between my legs. My new shoes, I thought! But there was no help for it, and we squatted quietly in the mush, waiting for the chase to catch up to us.

All was quiet for some time. Kathy and I had slid close to each other, warm and sticky. Irritated, I slowly pushed my dress under the surface of the mess, covering my hands and forearms with a thick layer of the sticky frosting. Kathy laughed at me quietly.

When ten minutes or so had gone by, cautiously we raised the lid of the kettle. No one in sight. But what a sight we were! In the reflection of the kettle I saw a creme-covered woman in a gooey white dress, liberally smeared with sweet sugary frosting from head to open-toed shoes. My dress clung moistly to me at odd angles. Kathy was scooping some of the glop from her chest and arms, and it fell with a soft plop onto the tiled floor, lightly splattering my shoes.

“Well,” I whispered, “I’m getting rid of these shoes”. I tugged each one off and stood in my ruined dress, gooey bare feet on the cool tile floor. How had this happened? I could feel the warm ooze still slipping down my chest. Kate tugged off her shoes, and wiggled her toes.

“I like it,” she said simply. I shook my head in wonder and was about to reply when suddenly-

Shouts in the hallway! They were coming back!

Kate looked panicky. We look around again, grabbed our shoes and then looked at each other in messy resignation. We couldn’t get back in the same kettle; too obvious. So we picked one at the far end of the kitchen, pulled back the lid and hoped for the best.

This one was some kind of mushy cereal, soft and slippery. Oatmeal, I realized, thick and very lumpy. Probably for tomorrow’s breakfast; what an odd sensation to be bathing in it! My feet oozed through the thick cereal and I pulled Kate in after me. At least it’s warm, I thought. Kathy sploshed down beside me, sliding next to me because of the curvature of the kettle’s bottom. The shouts grew further away. We waited cautiously.

“I can’t stand being in this dress,” she whispered, wiggling a bit in the oatmeal.

“What are you going to, a strip-tease?” I muttered sarcastically while the soft, slippery oatmeal began oozing quietly into my soaked panties. It was invasive and unpleasant.

“Yes,” she said to my surprise and slowly unzipped her jumpsuit. The thick oatmeal flowed greedily into her dress, and I could just imagine it splashing moistly around her panties, if indeed she was wearing any… I could see her cereal-soaked bra slip off in the dim light of the kettle, and I watched her breasts bob and quietly splash in the warm creamy goo. She reached below the surface and seemed to be adjusting something.. and I remember the feeling of disbelief I had when finally she smiled with satisfaction and brought her dripping panties to the top of our sloppy pool, dangling them in front of my face.

“There,” she said with sensuous satisfaction. Almost smug. “I’m completely naked. Naked in the warm, oozy oatmeal.” And then as though to prove her point, she smiled mysteriously and slipped completely under the thick gooey surface, only to rise again in a second or two, saturated with the thick lumpy mixture. Laughingly, she massaged the mush into her breasts.

“Lighten up, kiddo. It feels good. I’m leaving my clothes in the vat – let some frat-brat have my panties for breakfast!”

Then she looked at me again, laughed at my gooey blonde hair and frown. “Might as well strip,” she said. “Feels great and you look silly in that dress.” I must have looked pretty upset because she wiped my face with her panties in a protectively helpful way and I closed my eyes.

What logic compelled me to agree with her? But agree I did, and I slipped out of the sodden dress, mashing it revengefully to the bottom of the kettle with my feet. It felt good to be naked in the warm thickness. But the probing feeling of invasion from that thick lumpy slop was a bit disconcerting.

Sitting next to her was, I think, what finally did it, but when she put the panties down and held me in that soft warm soup, I relaxed a little. It was such an absurd situation. I turn to her to say something and because of the proximity our lips bumped.

And that’s when it happened.

“Sorry,” I whispered and in answer she kissed me lightly, sweetly, then licked the oat meal from my lips sympathetically. I saw in her eyes the humor of the situation. I looked at her for a second and then gently kissed her back, licking her cheeks and mouth curiously. I felt her hand stroke my breast and then my sex, and then suddenly I lost myself in it all. I licked at her fingers timidly, then gratefully, and we kissed and explored each other in the warm soft slop. It was comforting to be so messy together. I suppose if our bodies weren’t half submerged we would have had to do more to each other, but as it was were we satisfied to cuddle naked and kiss and kiss. I was happy with her, happy with her mouth and lips and tongue on my face, happy to be in the mush with her..

It went on and on.

It was excellent.

“Let’s go” she finally said after about an hour. I was reluctant to leave our sexy bath, but I followed her, gooey and happy. I forgot about the boys. We walked naked, covered in oatmeal, except where we had licked our face thoroughly clean, looking for an exit, leaving oatmealy footprints and hoping to reach our car undiscovered.

It had rained we discovered and in the total darkness we walked through the soft mud of the campus football field towards the car. I felt so liberated I wouldn’t have cared had we been discovered. Some times we had to stop and kiss in the mud, and then we would be okay for a while to walk until we needed to stop again, which was often.

And by the time we reached the car?

I was glad I we crashed that party after all.