In Your Dreams

— by AlanWam —

I love getting absolutely filthy as a prelude to sex and so when I have a girlfriend I always try to get her interested. Some are interested and others aren’t but I don’t think I’ve ever lost a girlfriend by asking, but with my latest girlfriend I think I’ve met my match. We’d been going out together for a few weeks when we ended up in bed together at my house. What better time to broach the subject and so I did.

She was very interested and asked all about slapstick so I showed her some magazines on the subject and she read them avidly. When she’d finished she started asking me questions. She asked me what turned me on in particular and I said the girl should be fully dressed in smart new clothes and she must get completely covered in lots of messy things with the ultimate aim of the clothes being totally ruined and preferably in rags. She asked what kind of messy things were the best and I said the messier the better and gave her a few examples. She read some more magazines and then we made love.

She caught me completely unawares in the morning as she was leaving when she invited me to stay at her house the following weekend. In a matter of fact voice she told me to bring lots of clothes as she planned to have a really messy weekend and with that she left. Well the next week went in a daze as I really wasn’t sure what she planned to do or if she was even serious but I decided I ought to be prepared so I set about packing a few changes of clothes and on Friday, with my heart pounding, I arrived at her house.

She opened the door and invited me in showing me into the lounge. The house was beautifully furnished and I decided I ought to ask what she did for a living as she was obviously well off, but before I could she asked if I was ready for some fun straight away and I said I was. I was glad I’d come prepared wearing jeans and a sweatshirt destined to be covered at some point. Although Rebecca looked gorgeous in anything I was a little disappointed to see she was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a t-shirt but I thought it was early days and got to my feet ready to do battle. Then, almost as an afterthought, she looked down at her clothes, said she better change and went off up the stairs.

I sat down again not really knowing what to expect. The clothes she’d been wearing were obviously new and expensive and I wondered if she planned to wear some really old clothes. I also began to wonder what food she had planned. It could just be a couple of eggs or, even worse, a shaving foam pie. So many thoughts went through my mind while I waited but when she reappeared my first worries were completely forgotten.

Rebecca is tall and very shapely with long legs that look good naked but look even better in high heels which is what she was wearing. To be specific, a pair of black suede court shoes with a four inch heel. Her long legs were encased in sheer black seamed nylons which disappeared, just above the knee, beneath the hem of a lovely black evening dress. It was black taffeta and had a low cut front, puff ball three-quarter length sleeves, a tight fitting embroidered bodice and a large full skirt which rustled with every step she took. Her long dark hair, which was cut in a fringe at the front, hung straight down her back and glistened beautifully. Round her neck, just above her ample cleavage, hung a fine gold chain which matched the long earrings and the dress watch. She gave me a twirl revealing a low cut back almost to her bum and as I let out a whistle she said she hoped I liked it as she’d spent a long time choosing the whole outfit yesterday and it had cost a lot of money.

Taking my hand she led me into the kitchen which was large and old. The floor was quarry tile and the units oak or something similar. What struck me first was there was no sign of Rebecca having bothered to put anything away or protect anything, I didn’t have long to think because my other worry was also dispelled when she pulled a sheet off a large array of buckets filled with all sorts of gunge. I didn’t have time to pay much attention to what was there because Rebecca picked up a bucket and walking to the other end of the kitchen she upturned it pouring a gallon of chocolate sauce on the floor. Then she walked through it deliberately dragging her feet in the chocolate before gesturing for me to do the same. I tipped a bucket of beans on the floor and did the same turning my white trainers orange. Rebecca took another bucket of beans and walked back to the chocolate end before turning and throwing the beans near me. They landed on the floor splashing beans up my jeans and all over the wall and units. I replied with another bucket of chocolate which, as it splashed up Rebeccas legs, brought a squeal of delight. Rebecca then sat me down and made me hold open the top of my jeans while she poured in a bucket of custard which flooded all down my legs. After I’d recovered I sat Rebecca on another chair and made a great play of getting her to hold up her dress out of the way which exposed her stocking tops and a lovely pair of white knickers. I soon changed that as I poured on a bucket of tomato ketchup. Rebecca moaned and just sat there until the sauce had finished running down her legs before standing and straightening her still clean dress. This was to change as I tipped a bucket of brown sauce into her cleavage and most of it went down the front. I couldn’t resist her lovely long hair so I took a bucket of custard and made her bend over while I carefully dipped all her hair in making sure it was completely covered before she stood up quickly spraying custard everywhere and I watched as it slowly ran down over her once immaculate make-up. Then it became a free for all until we were completely covered and the floor was awash with food. Her dress was quite strong and I only succeeded in ripping small bits off it before dragging it off her.

I stripped off my jeans and sweatshirt and Rebecca wasted no time in ripping my boxer shorts off. I ripped off her knickers in the same way but left the stockings until the last moments of passion and as we both approached a climax I ripped them to shreds. After a rest we got to our feet and Rebecca took me by the hand and led me through to a shower room at the back of the kitchen where we washed each other off. When we were dry Rebecca went off to dry her hair and I started on the kitchen. I found a large bucket and filled it with water before starting to wash down the units, the walls and the door which all came up surprisingly clean. Rebecca reappeared after about ten minutes and she had changed back into her jeans and t-shirt. As she walked past me she gave me a little feel before collecting a mop and starting to sweep all the food on the floor into one pile. I wondered what she was going to do with it but my question was soon answered when she produced some trash bags and, after dropping in the remnants of our clothes, she ladled the food in with a dustpan. What was fun to watch was the fact that she knelt down to do it and contrived to get a lot of food all over her jeans. Not only that but she continually wiped her hands on her t-shirt so when we had finished tidying up she was almost as messy as before. Taking my hand she led me back to the shower and pulled me in. After a good soaking she wriggled out of her jeans revealing the tiniest knickers I’ve ever seen. I wasted no time in removing these in my normal way before ripping the t-shirt off to get at those lovely breasts. This time we made love in the shower before going to lie down for an hour.

When we’d recovered I suggested we go out for something to eat and so we got dressed. I put on a smart pair of trousers and a shirt and Rebecca wore a short white jersey skirt, a white blouse tied up under her tits and a pair of high heeled white shoes. Before we went out I noticed Rebecca picked up all the clothes, including the jeans, from the shower and dropped them in a trahs bag. She directed me to a pub down by the river and we parked near the river bank some distance from the pub as it was very busy. Rebecca had to get out my side as we were alongside the grass and we had to negotiate some puddles in the car park as it had only just stopped raining. We had a nice pub meal and a couple of drinks and when we left my car was all on its own and as we crossed the car park I noticed Rebecca didn’t avoid the puddles but walked straight through them and when we got to the car she walked round to her side and asked for me to let her in. I went round to her side and found her standing ankle deep in mud churned up by cars turning. Noticing my gaze she looked down and laughed (as if she didn√ét know!) and said she ought to take off her shoes before she got in the car. I agreed and she promptly sat down in the mud and lifted both feet up to me inviting me to take them off. I looked down to see her skirt up round her waist and a pair of tiny white knickers half submerged in mud. I carefully pulled at her shoes and as they came off she contrived to fall backwards into the mud coating her hair. She then got to her knees and unzipped me, pulling out my erect prick. As I massaged the mud into her hair she gave me a lovely blow job right where I stood in the car park. When she’d finished she quickly stripped off all her clothes and wiped off most of the mud before throwing the clothes, including the shoes, in a waste bin and getting in the car. We went to bed that night absolutely knackered and we had a good lie in the next morning.

Rebecca was first out of bed and I noticed she was wearing a lovely white silk floor length nightie over which she slipped a matching negligee before going down to fix breakfast while I lay back down. I heard her come back in but didn’t pay any attention until she told me to sit up and gave me a cup which she filled from a large coffee pot. Then she gave me a plate with a couple of pieces of toast on and then produced a huge tub of margarine for me. I spread the toast and then asked if there was any marmalade. She said there wasn’t but she had some jam and produced a large catering tin of raspberry jam. She knelt on the bed and offered me the tin but as I went to dip the knife in she scolded me and told me not to use the knife. Before I could ask what I could use she dipped her hand in and lifted out a big scoop which she put on the side of my plate before carefully wiping her hand on the hem of her negligee. She then pulled back the bed clothes and sat astride my knees before grabbing two huge handfuls of margarine and starting to massage my body. She continued until I was coated from head to foot before she did the same with the jam. As she slid up and down me she got more and more margarine and jam over her clothes. Next she poured the now cooled coffee over me and lay down on me. The coffee acted as a lubricant and we slid up and down each other very nicely. Soon it was time for the negligee and the nightie to depart and they made a gorgeous sound as they ripped. We made love on the bed in all the mess before having another shower together.

After the shower we went to bed again but in the spare room and didn’t arise until lunchtime which went without a mess. Rebecca then told me she had something special planned for the afternoon but I had to be smartly dressed or else she wouldn’t do it. I went upstairs and came down in my best clothes but she said it wasn’t good enough and insisted I wear a suit. I said I would and drove home to change but Rebecca insisted on coming along. I showed her the suit I had in mind but she wouldn’t accept it and picked out one of my best along with a brand new shirt, silk boxer shorts and new shoes. I thought long and hard but eventually decided to sacrifice them all and hoped that it would be worth it. We drove back to her house and she got me dressed before packing me off to the pub for an hour.

When I got back I let myself in and waited in the lounge. Rebecca appeared some time later looking sensational. She was wearing an ivory silk, off the shoulder, wedding dress. It was heavily embroidered with a large floor length skirt and a long train. She lifted it up to show me the layers of net covering the white stockings along with a garter. The shoes were high heeled white satin and she wore some lovely jewellery topped off by a long white veil. She looked absolutely radiant as she led me out to the garage which had been completely cleared. I watched mesmerized as she kicked over a large drum of old engine oil which spread quickly over the floor. She then proceeded to walk round trailing her dress in it and I watched as it soaked up the material. She pulled up her dress and kicked over another drum before stamping in the oil splashing it up the front of her stockings and over her shoes.

Then it was my turn and Rebecca dipped a tin into another drum of oil soaking her sleeve in the process and threw the contents at me ruining my suit forever. I replied with a tin of my own directed at the front of her skirt. I watched as the material turned black and the oil soaked well in. Calling a halt for a moment I made Rebecca hold up her skirt and petticoats and I slipped her still white lace knickers down her legs a little way before filling them with a large pot of black grease. I then pulled them up tightly and watched as the grease oozed out from the sides. Rebecca then made me hold open the front of my trousers and shorts while she emptied in a whole gallon of red paint before letting me do them up again. I found it a little difficult to move after that as the paint didn’t run away very easily but it didn’t stop me from pouring a tin of blue paint down the cleavage of her dress. Then it was a free for all with paint and oil being thrown everywhere. The highlight for me was a gallon can of black paint which I used to flatten her veil and hairdo before it ran down her face covering her beautiful make-up. When all the materials were used up and we were both completely covered we set about each others clothes with a couple of pairs of scissors until everthing we were wearing was in tiny pieces. We were both exhausted as we tried to get as much off each other as possible before washing each other down in the shower armed with lots of cleaners which took some time and quite a few showers! We retired to bed completely knackered and only woke up briefly for an evening snack.

When I woke the next morning Rebecca was already up and I got dressed and went downstairs to find Rebecca in the kitchen dressed in a crisp white tennis outfit. She kissed me good morning and told me to sit down at the table which I did. I should have known what was coming but it was still a shock when a huge tub of warm porridge was tipped over my head completely engulfing me. A second and a third followed before Rebecca sat astride me and told me she wanted me to give her a seeing to with my tongue. With that she lay back on the table with her legs spread so I made sure I covered her with a lot of the porridge before I started to rub it well in. I moved slowly down the body, pulling up her t-shirt to expose her tits which she took over rubbing as I moved on down. When I reach my goal I tore a hole in her knickers allowing me to stick my tongue in and with the taste of the porridge mingling with her juices I licked her until she screamed, and then a little more.

The House Party

— by AlanWam —

(Noels House Party is a UK television programme where members of the public sometimes get gunged)

Sue and I went out for New Years Eve for the first time in years and it was definitely worth while.

A friend had suggested we go to a pub about ten miles from us called The Bull. He told me that it normally had fancy dress parties on New Years Eve and they were a lot of fun. Well we didn’t want to wear fancy dress but we put on some smart clothes, left the next door neighbour babysitting, and set off for the pub. We got there about nine and the car park was packed. Outside a sign said ‘Welcome to the Bull’s Public House Party!’. We went inside and, although it was busy, there was plenty of space and even some seats. The music was playing and lots of people were dancing so, while Sue found a seat, I got the drinks in.

No sooner had I sat down than the music stopped and a voice asked everyone to sit down. Gradually the people moved off the floor and revealed two large tables in front of a small stage. Sitting at one table were six fellas and at the other six girls. They were all wearing ‘Bull’ t-shirts and jeans and in between the tables was a fellow dressed in a gold suit and bow tie holding the microphone. What transpired was that they were holding a version of Noel’s House Party – hence the sign – and it was boys against girls in a series of games with all the proceeds going to charity.

They started with some simple questions and then moved on to silly party games like passing a balloon between the team members without using their hands. The fun started when one game required one member of each team to drink a pint of water without using his or her hands. They both did the same thing and used their teeth to hold the glass with the result that most of the water went down the front of their respective t-shirts. I noticed how easily the girls t-shirt turned transparent revealing a white lacy bra beneath.

Then the gunge tank made an appearance to a great cheer from the crowd and a particularly loud one from me. One person from each team was selected and the audience had to vote on which one was to be gunged by putting money in the hat in front of them. Needless to say I voted for the girl but when the money was added up it was the boy who was chosen. The tank looked like a shower cubicle, which it probably was, and as he sat down on the stool the MC climbed on a chair and tipped in a large bucket of gunge which looked like coloured wallpaper paste. After a moment there were cries for more and the MC agreed to put the girl in as well. This was what I wanted and she didn’t seem to be wasting any time in going in but the MC made a great thing about wiping the seat clean before she sat down. Then he asked for volunteers to pour in the gunge and my hand was up like a shot but he picked a girl from the audience.

She was a petite blonde wearing a little black sleeveless dress and heels which caused her trouble getting onto the chair. She could hardly lift the bucket but eventually the paste went in coating the girl completely. I loved the way it ran down her jeans as she stood up. As soon as she had gone the seat was wiped clean and then the girl was helped down but she wasn’t allowed to return to her seat. Instead the MC told her it was her turn and she laughed but he insisted and nervously she took a seat. He climbed up with another bucket and made a great play of shouting shall I? Much to everyones surprise, especially the girls, he actually did do it and there was a scream from her as the paste plastered her long blonde hair to her body. I wondered if it had been a set up but she actually came back to her boyfriend who was sitting near us and wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not but she seemed to be taking it in good spirit and told him she was going to wash some of it off.

The games continued for a little while longer and in the mean time the girl returned having washed most of the paste out of her hair and off her face but she still wore the sticky dress.

It was nearly half past eleven when the gunge tank was brough back into use and the MC announced that an auction was to take place and the four highest bidders would be able to pick someone to gunge. I realised that it would be groups of people who would win but I put a bid in anyway. After a quick count up the first bid was announced and I realised they were way above mine but it was all for a good cause. The first team picked a fellow from their own team and with much gentle arguement he removed his jacket before taking his seat and another member of his group tipped in the gunge to great drunken cheers.

After a now customary clean of the seat the next bid went to another large group and a second fellow was sent to his fate. This time his partner climbed up on the chair and emptied in the bucket. She didn’t escape entirely as he grabbed her and pulled her to him and gave her a great big kiss. She looked lovely with green paste down the front of her face, her blouse and her skirt. The next bid went to an all girl group and their elected victim was a very attractive young girl wearing a long tight black skirt, white blouse and black waistcoat. She got soaked by one of her friends and made sure everyone else got some by flicking it over her friends when she returned to the table.

The final bid went to a table near us and I wondered who they’d pick. I was surprised to see them looking round the room but I was even more surprised when they picked Sue. So was she but didn’t seem to mind too much as she made her way to the stage. She in fact got two bucketfuls, one red and one blue, before returning to the table.

As New Year struck all hell broke loose as somebody started throwing bucketfuls of gunge around the room and as we left there were very few clean customers. It turned out that my guess had been right as they’d used food colouring in paste and it didn’t come out. Sue’s rust coloured skirt, silky blouse and cardigan were permenantly stained not to mention her satin undies but we decided it was all good fun and we’d be going the next year.

The Gas Man Cometh

— by AlanWam —

Sally reached out her long arm over the edge of the bath and selected another bowl of beans from the small table at her side. Slowly she poured the contents over her already stained summer dress before letting the bowl slide lazily to her side to join the other empties. With her eyes closed she slowly massaged in the beans, enjoying the feeling as they mingled with the custard that was already there. Taking the last remaining bowl of custard she poured it ever so slowly over her short neatly groomed dark hair and, as it slowly ran down her face, her tongue briefly darted out to catch a small amount before her mouth became completely covered.

This was how Sally spent most Saturday mornings and it certainly beat traipsing round the shops. Sliding further down caused the weight of food in the bottom of the bath to push the short hem of her dress up revealing her small white knickers. Scooping up a handful of food from the bottom of the bath she slipped her hand into her knickers and started to rub herself ever so gently while the other hand slithered over her dress bringing small whimpering noises from her throat. The noise of her breathing was starting to rise when suddenly the phone rang causing Sally to freeze. After a moment the rhythmic movement of her hands continued but the phone persisted and eventually Sally, mouthing obscenities, wiped the custard from her eyes before heaving herself out of the bath and making her way to the landing to pick up the extension.

Snatching up the phone, and in an understandably gruff voice, she asked who was calling, all the while dripping food on the polished wood floor. It was the Gas Board telling her that they would be coming on Monday to service her fire.

“Well, I’m out at work all day!”, she lied, “You’ll have to come in the evening!”. She listened for a while before saying, “Right! After six then!” and slammed the now food covered handset down.

She stormed back into the bathroom, ignored the food filled bath, and stepped into the shower. As the warm water slowly rinsed off the food and soaked through her clothes Sally started to relax and eventually smiled as she thought about the poor woman who’d got all the abuse on the phone. If only she’d known what was going on at the other end.

In fact Monday was her day off and she had plans which didn’t include the Gas Board. She was off to have a facial and a hairdo before meeting a girl friend for lunch. Then it was off round the shops to find something for the following Saturday morning bath.

As she planned in her mind what to buy her hand found its way back into her soggy knickers and she finished off what had been so rudely interrupted by the phone.

Monday turned out to be an even better day than she’d planned. She had a long leisurely soak in the bath before getting dressed and driving into town. The facial and hairdo made Sally feel really good and the feeling was heightened as her make up was re-applied by a professional. She joined her friend for a long leisurely lunch and a chat which was extremely enjoyable and filled Sally with a feelgood feeling. Finally she went round the charity shops and found a dress for the following weekend. The final stop was at the Cash & Carry for some food before she eventually made her way home.

It was only just 5 when she got home but parked outside was a Gas Board van and as Sally parked her car in the drive the fitter got out.

He was young, very good looking, and dressed in smart blue overalls. He gave Sally a great big grin and said something to Sally who didn’t hear him at all as she was already getting a tingling between her legs just looking at him. He waved his hand in front of her eyes and she came back from her trance and invited him in, all thoughts of complaining about his early arrival having gone from her head.

She showed him the fire and he set to work immediately while Sally unloaded the car. She put everything on the kitchen table ready to find some space in the cupboards. She’d bought some large bottles of pouring syrup, which she’d never tried before, and she’d got a couple of trays of custard which would be enough for the next few weeks. The only other food she’d bought was a large strawberry and cream gateau which she planned to enjoy later that evening.

Suddenly the fitter popped his head round the door, “I’m finished now so I’ll be off.”

Not wanting him to go Sally thought quickly and then said, “Would you like a coffee?”

“Thanks very much, I’d love one. You’re my last job for today so I’ve got some time. I’ll just put my things in the van.”

Sally only had time to put the kettle on and put two mugs on the table before he returned. “Sit down” she said indicating the chair at the table. “Would you like milk and sugar?”

“No sugar, thanks.”

Sally took another look at him as she tried to think of something to say. He had removed his overalls and was now dressed in a pair of tight faded blue denims, a white t-shirt and a pair of white trainers. His tanned arms showed some signs of weight training but Sally found it hard to take her eyes off the good looking bulge in the front of his jeans.

The kettle clicking off brought her back to reality and she poured the water into the two mugs before adding some milk and giving it a stir. “My name is Sally”, she said offering her manicured hand.

He took her hand and, much to her surprise, he kissed it theatrically, “Mine’s Geoff, pleased to meet you Sally.”

“He’s gorgeous,” thought Sally, how was she to keep him?

“I can’t stop too long, I’ve got to get some food” said Geoff but his eyes were definitely looking Sally up and down, at least that what she hoped.

“Would you like some cake?” said Sally pointing to her newly bought gateau. “Anything to keep him here,” thought Sally.

“Just a small piece then”, said Geoff drinking some coffee, “then I must be off.”

As Sally cut a slice she had a deliciously wicked thought about how to keep him from going. She put the slice on a plate and carried it over to him. Then, with a great piece of acting, she tripped and contrived to let the gateau slip into Geoff’s lap. It couldn’t have landed in a better place as, when she looked, the was a large lump of cream and strawberry sauce right on top of the bulge in his jeans.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry” blustered Sally, secretly proud of her brilliant ploy. To her surprise Geoff didn’t move but only smiled and said, “You better wipe it off then!”

Taking a cloth Sally started to rub the cream making sure it got well rubbed in and to her delight she felt a stirring beneath her hand.

“When you’ve finished rubbing all that cream in I think it must be my turn.” Sally couldn’t believe what she’d heard but she wasn’t going to say no. She gave some thought to her new hairdo, her cream silk blouse, her long black chiffon skirt and underskirt, her silk camisole and knickers, her sheer black stockings and her matching black suede shoes. She thought how expensive they all were and she thought that their sacrifice couldn’t be more worthy. “I don’t know what you mean?” she replied coyly hoping she knew exactly what he meant! “Oh I think you do!” he said and pushed her back until she was almost lying on the table. With one hand he lifted up her skirt and underskirt exposing her tiny knickers while, with the other, he scooped up a handful of cream and strawberries from the gateau and slapped them onto the front of her crutch. Sally gasped but said nothing. Her heart was beating at twice its normal pace and her throat was dry, unlike her pussy!

“And some topping” said Geoff before ripping open a carton of custard and squirting it between her legs.

Sally lay back and luxuriated in the feeling as the custard ran round to her bottom. After a few moments she sat up and slid off the table feeling the custard run down the inside of her thighs and drip onto her shoes. “Now it’s my turn” and she picked up a custard carton which Geoff was only too willing to tear open. She poured it inside his t-shirt and watched as it formed a yellow belt around his waist, stopped by the tight waistband of his jeans. When the carton was empty she pulled out the waistband and he squirmed as the custard flowed through his jeans.

“Hands behind your back” commanded Geoff and Sally obeyed meekly. He unscrewed the top of a bottle of syrup and poured it slowly over the front of her blouse moving the bottle from side to side making sure she was well covered. They both watched as the syrup moulded her clothes to her body and the outline of her breasts and hardened nipples appeared.

When the syrup had finished dripping Sally undid the button of Geoff’s jeans and slid the zip down before taking another bottle of syrup and, as Geoff obediently held out his white boxer shorts, Sally poured the whole bottle in over a rather large erect prick. She had to stop occasionally as the syrup was slow to run down the legs of his tight jeans but eventually it was all gone and Sally couldn’t resist giving his glistening manhood a little lick before zipping him up again.

Another carton of custard was opened and this Sally directed over Geoff’s hair rubbing it well in like a shampoo before doing the same with a bottle of syrup. As his t-shirt became soaked in syrup she could resist putting her long nails into the thin material and ripping it open revealing his sun tanned chest. He just grinned at this treatment so Sally reached over for the kitchen scissors and removed his jeans by carefully cutting them off his body. He looked even more gorgeous standing there clad only in his bulging boxer shorts. She watched as custard and syrup dripped from his head and formed little rivers down his dark skin and over his shorts.

She didn’t resist as he pushed her back onto the table top before turning her onto her front. Two or three bottles of syrup flowed over her back until both her blouse and skirt were moulded to her like a second skin. Then she felt custard flow over her head and she looked through a wall of it as it ran off the fringe of her once immaculate hair.

He rolled her over onto her back and peeled her sticky skirt off the table before grasping the flimsy material in both hands and slowly ripping the skirt to the waistband. He repeated the move over and over again, until the skirt was in ribbons, and as he did so the sound of the material tearing made Sally feel as if she was on a permanent orgasm. The underskirt went exactly the same way before he slowly pulled the buttons off her blouse one at a time making sure he took a little material with each one.

“He’s not doing this on his own” though Sally and easily ripped her camisole open down the front revealing her ample charms. He coated these in custard which Sally rubbed in with glee while Geoff removed her knickers with one swift tug and coated her pussy in a handful of gateau.

He slid down between her legs and started to lick off the cream and within seconds Sally screamed in delight before collapsing exhausted on the table top. She lay there completely drained for some time and she assumed that she must of fallen asleep because when she finally did struggle to her feet there was no sign of Geoff. She removed the remains of her clothes before going to shower and she saw that Geoff had obviously been there before her.

When she finished her shower she went and lay down and was asleep within minutes. She dreamt of her wonderful evening and whether she’d ever see him again. One thing she was sure of was that she’d be having her fire serviced regularly from now on!

After Dinner Dessert

— by AlanWam —

I’ve just had my first introduction to slapstick and I loved it although it had some interesting moments.

Sex is not that easy as I share a house with a girl friend of mine and my current boyfriend shares with four other guys. When my girl friend told me she was going away for the weekend I told Graham and he suggested we went out for a meal on Saturday night and I agreed, adding that coffee could be taken at my house!

The meal was a great success and we went back to the house and opened a bottle of wine as it was still early. As we got more comfortable the subject turned to sex and Graham said he wanted to show me something very different if I was agreeable. I was a little unsure as he could be planning to do anything but, seeing my hesitation, he told me that he wasn’t going to harm me or anything like that and so I eventually agreed. He wasted no time from then on and took me to the bedroom and told me to strip off which I was only to happy to do but then he told me he wanted me to get dressed again and he would pick the clothes. Mystified I agreed and showed him where everything was kept. After some searching he selected an oldish white bra and knickers and of course a suspender belt and stockings as I knew he would. From the wardrobe he took out a white button through blouse and a full floral cotton skirt I hadn’t worn for years and then he told me to get dressed and join him downstairs. I started to get dressed in a daze and then decided I would put on some other clothes in which I felt sexier but were still similar to his choice. I had a nice matching undies set in white lace and I particularly liked the bra as it made my already large firm breasts even more prominent and gave me a lovely cleavage. I picked another button through white blouse but this one was beautifully embroidered and much newer. The skirt I swapped for a lovely full black ankle length number and I added some smart black court shoes to complete the ensemble.

While I’d been getting dressed I’d heard the front door open and shut a few times and when I went into the kitchen I found Graham sitting at the table which was now covered by a cloth under which were some unknown items. I also noticed that Graham had changed and now wore a pair of black trousers and a white shirt in place of his suit and there were no shoes on his feet. I found this very curious and asked him what he was up to but he wouldn’t tell me. He commented on my change of clothes and said I looked great but then he added something that I didn’t yet understand as he said he hoped I wouldn’t regret my decision later on.

He didn’t let me dwell on that but sat me down on a kitchen chair and sat astride me before unbuttoning my blouse until my bra was just visible. Then he kissed me a few time on my neck before producing a small spoon and a pot of yoghurt from under the cloth. He dipped in the spoon and took it out brimming with yoghurt and I thought he was going to feed me but instead he dribbled some onto my neck. It was icy cold and it ran slowly down my neck towards my tits before Graham slowly licked it off. It was a lovely sensation as his tongue ran up my neck and I giggled. He repeated the move again before getting off me and lifting my skirt to my waist and instructing me to hold it in place. He then produced a jar of jam which he opened and pulled out a handful which he rubbed on my thighs between my stocking tops and knickers. Again he licked it off very slowly and I loved the feeling of his tongue brushing my knickers. When my thighs were clean he straightened my skirt and sat astride me again. This time he produced a jug and tipped it towards my chest. I assumed this was to be a repeat of the yoghurt but this time he poured on custard which was deliciously warm and we both watched as it ran down over my tits. I was a little alarmed as he let it run on without attempting to stop it and before long it reached my bra. I wasn’t sure I approved of this but I forgot my doubts as once again his tongue started its cleaning job.

Again he lifted my skirt and this time he squirted a line of chocolate sauce up my stockings from the knee to the top seam before licking it off. My concern over the mess soon passed yet again as his tongue did its job. When he’d finished he asked me which I’d liked best and I said that the last one had been the best but maybe his tongue ought to travel a bit further. What I meant was upwards but that’s not what happened exactly as he picked up the custard jug and poured the entire contents over my leg. I watched in horror as it covered my stockings, my shoes and flooded across the floor. I still enjoyed the next bit as Graham started with his tongue at my shoe and ran it quickly up the leg stopping just short of goal. There was so much custard he had no chance of licking it off and he emerged with his face covered and it. He wiped his face clean before pulling my skirt down over my legs and sitting astride me. I was about to comment on the custard soaking through my skirt when he produced his next surprise and tipped a large bowl of baked beans over my blouse. I gasped, not only from the cold beans, but also from the mess he’d made of my blouse. I could feel the beans running down the inside of my blouse as he rubbed them well into my tits staining not only my blouse but my once white bra.

Next he removed my still clean shoe and I watched in horror as he filled it to the brim with tomato ketchup before squashing my foot back in. He then emptied some tapioca or semolina over my skirt before sitting on me and squashing it in with his bum. The final indignity came as he emptied a tin of syrup over my head rubbing it well in ruining my hairdo and make-up.

Even though I must have looked a mess and I smelt I was starting to get turned on by the food running down inside and outside my clothes, but now it was my turn.

I sat Graham down on the chair and pulled the cover off the table revealing all sorts of messy food. I then set about making sure his clothes suffered in the same way mine had. I then pulled up my skirt revealing my knickers, which were still surprisingly white, and tipped in a pot of chocolate sauce followed by a pot of cream which contrasted nicely. Although a lot ran out down my legs I ordered Graham to lick the rest off. He obediently set to work with his tongue and I was lost.

Eventually my legs could hold out no longer and I sank to the floor lying in all the food. Graham dropped his trousers and shorts and we had a lovely sloppy fuck together.

The surprises weren’t over because just as we’d finished we heard the front door open. There was nothing we could do so we just lay there and in walked Tina, my flatmate. She certainly looked shocked but she didn’t say a word and went into the lounge and turned on the television. Graham and I had to laugh as we set about clearing up the kitchen and ourselves. As I removed my clothes I realised none of them were worth salvaging and I thought of the cost but I decided that the results were worth it and vowed to repeat the experience again.

After Dinner Snack

— by AlanWam —

My girlfriend and I had been going out together for a year and to celebrate I took her out to dinner. After a wonderful meal we went back to her house for coffee and settled down together on the settee listening to some CD’s. Soon we were kissing and soon my hand strayed to her leg where I slowly slid up the hem of her full skirt. It felt good as the silky black material slid over what turned out to be black seamed stockings. I stopped long enough to unbutton the front of the low cut dress and Jane stood briefly to let it fall to the floor revealing a pale cream basque and matching silky knickers. I resumed the kissing at that point and asked her if she’d enjoyed the evening to which she said yes but when I asked her if there was anything else she wanted she went all quiet. I told her if it was possible she could have anything she wanted but all she would say was she thought I would think her crazy. I told her not to be silly and eventually she told me she’d always fancied having a custard pie fight. I laughed and said that wasn’t silly at all and she seemed relieved so I suggested I make up some pies with some spray cream or something but she said that she fancied something a bit more messy so I suggested we look in the kitchen. Still wearing her underwear and with her stylish black suede stilettos on her feet we went into the kitchen and started looking to see what we could find but I wasn’t really sure what she wanted so I let her look. She started in the fridge and took out a box of eggs which she placed on the table along with a pint of milk and some yoghurts. Then she turned to the cupboards and started with some tins of beans which she gave to me and asked me to open them. When I hesitated she became reticent again but I smiled and told her to carry on and set about opening the tins. Then came a tin of treacle and one of honey before she produced bottles of brown sauce, tomato sauce and salad cream. Soon all sorts of things were appearing on the table and the final items were two large bags of flour.

Surveying the table she gave a grin and said she was looking forward to this and I started to remove my clothes placing them in the safety of the other room. Jane asked me to keep my boxer shorts on and I agreed. Jane then went into the lounge and said she’d be back in a minute and I assumed she was going to get undressed as well but I was in for a shock because when she returned she had redressed in the clothes she worn for dinner. When I made a comment about the mess and shouldn’t she take them off she told me that she’d planned to do that but now she really wanted to keep them on. I then pointed out that they probably wouldn’t wash and they would get ruined she gave me a wicked grin and said that was exactly what she was hoping.

I asked her what she wanted me to do and she instructed me to pour a tin of beans down the inside of her dress and so with my heart pounding I pulled out the top of her dress and slowly poured the beans into her cleavage where they disappeared. Jane went all giggly and squirmed around and soon the beans started to appear sliding down her legs and over her shoes onto the tiled floor. Next she told me to put something down her back so I emptied the sauce bottles down the back of her dress and massaged them all in. Jane wasn’t going to let me remain clean and pulling out the waistband of my shorts she placed all six eggs in and then broke them one at a time. At first the cold egg squashing around my prick was awful but soon I realised I was starting to enjoy it. She told me to mess up her hair and against my better judgement I poured the treacle over her beautiful curly blonde hair and as it dripped down her once immaculately made up face she tipped a bag of flour over her head and rubbed it all in. Soon I received the same treatment to my hair and before long we were both totally covered. As I was wiping some food from my eyes I didn’t see Jane approach with the kitchen scissors and the first I knew was as she expertly cut up the front of my shorts and removed them letting my now rampant sticky prick out. I wasn’t quite sure what to do next but Jane didn’t take long to tell me. She screamed at me to rip all her clothes off. I didn’t hesitate for long but I had to cut through the hem of the dress to get it started and I did give a quick thought to the cost but it was too late then and I was soon putting all my efforts into shredding the dress into as many pieces as possible as Jane screamed instructions. When the dress was in tatters she told me to take off her shoes and then to my total surprise she got me sitting astride her on her tits and made me cut the shoes up as much as possible. Next it was the basques turn and I needed the scissors yet again for that as it was impossible to tear but the stockings gave in easily to my nails. Finally it was the knickers turn and as I pulled at them they went up her crack and she arched her back and screamed. The knickers finally parted and I fell on her stuffing my sticky prick into her. It felt really good as our bodies squelched together and Jane tasted good.

When we’d recovered we showered together and made love again more slowly in bed leaving the kitchen till morning. What a sight and smell next day and we spent all morning clearing up but it was worth it.

Cream Pie Delight

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’.

Mark March 1996

Pergola of Gunge, by SpinyNorman

Pergola of Gunge, by SpinyNorman (

Gill looked up at the bamboo framework above her with its array of paper bags hanging above her. She shivered with excitement as the bags swayed gently in the warm breeze. She was lying on her back in a small inflatable pool. Her body clad only in a red shiny bikini which glistening after pouring several bottles of corn oil over her skin, her hair fanned out in a pool of shiny, slimy liquid.

She wriggled in the oil feeling it flow under her head, shoulders and buttocks. She had come up with this idea while she was at work and it had become difficult to think of anything else since then.

The mechanics were simple, a small framework of bamboo canes out of the garden lashed together, with paper bags full of jam, custard, rice pudding and other assorted gunges suspended from them. This was then placed over the pool to form a lattice work tunnel. Then a quick scramble underneath the bags and into the pool before the bags began to split.

Gill lay there looking up at the bags as they swayed gently in the warm breeze. Beads of sweat built up on her forehead as her anticipation rose. The oil had begun to seep into her bikini bottoms and a golden slime was beginning to creep up the red material in between her legs. She reached down with her hand and massaged the slickness into her mound with gentle circular movements. She sighed softly, and slipped a greasy had underneath the cup of her bikini top, stroking her nipple.

SPLAT! Suddenly one of the bags broke and a large dollop of custard landed onto her stomach, smothering her navel and splashing over the lower part of her breasts. She jerked wildly at first with the shock, then both of her hands were rubbing the custard over her stomach and up over her bikini covered breasts.

Gill glanced up just in time to see another bag begin to split allowing small amounts of strawberry jam to escape.. The bag was hanging directly above her chin but she wriggled up just in time to allow the contents to hit her directly on her breasts with a satisfying thud. Her custard covered hand came up to her chest and spread the jam over her bikini top. She smoothed the jam over the material feeling the dampness penetrate through to her skin. Gill lifted up the left cup and scooped jam underneath the material massaging it into her breast. Her hands explored the sensation of the sticky mess both inside and outside of her bikini. She scrapped the jam up towards her face and lifting her chin she spread the jam over neck and cheeks.

She had just inserted four sticky fingers into her mouth tasting he sweetness when another load of gunge exploded onto her thighs. With her chin grinding the jam into her upper chest, her hand went down to her thighs to find out what the latest offering was. She lifted her legs slightly still keeping the soles of her feet flat down in the corn oil. She began to rub her thighs and soon realised that they were now coated in porridge. She spread the mixture to the inside of her thighs and up towards her crotch. As she drew the mixture closer she pulled the gusset of her bikini bottoms to one side and rubbed the porridge into her exposed pussy.

Gill began to heave and writhe as she gathered up more of the mess and forced it into the crotch of her bikini. She then let it snap back into place and worked at her mound with both hands. Her hands became more and more frantic. She reached up and gathered a handful of jam from out of the top of her bikini and thrust it down the front of her pants. She ran her fingers up and down the crease of her vulva occasionally slipping two fingers into her soaking wet pussy.

Gill arched her back a little as the pleasure mounted and then she settled back into the pool with a slight squelch. She opened her eyes and watched mesmerised as a bag full of thick dark treacle slowly gave way and a huge tear shaped mass of treacle landed right in the middle of her bikini bottoms. She placed a finger in the sticky pile, stirring up the treacle. She parted the two halves of her top exposing her jam covered breasts and scooped two generous helping of syrup onto each of her nipples. Suddenly the wind gusted a little and she noticed that another bag was at breaking point and about to empty its contents over her left breast. Gill managed just in time to get her face under the bag and was rewarded with a face full of thick whipping cream.

She licked her lips as she rubbed the cream into her face and hair. She was laughing now and writhing about in the pool, her hand massaging quickly all over her body.

Gill reached down and began to work her panties down her thighs as another bag burst, a generous portion of ketchup landing on her upraised knees and cascading over her face and breasts. She finally got her bikini bottoms down and spread her legs wide. “Here it is” she called to one of the bags above her. She opened her legs as far as they would go, rubbing her clit as her legs bounced up and down slightly as she tried to force her legs as far apart as possible. “Hit my pussy now” she shouted as a bag split and rice pudding splattered straight onto her wide open crotch. “Oh yesss” she cried, and then as she settled back to work the pudding into her mound she whispered “nice shot”.

Gills fingers left her clit for a while and she worked a finger inside her pussy. With her other hand she massaged the multi coloured goo into her face and breasts. She was breathing faster and more deeply now, and a second and third finger took up the rhythm inside her.

She removed her fingers and bought her knees up towards her breasts, she tried to reach past her pussy, but while she could manage to stroke her butt, she couldn’t penetrate herself.

Pulling the last part of her bikini off she rolled over and raised herself up on to her hands and knees. She looked down into the goo at the bottom of the pool, and licking her lips she plunged her face into it. She slopped her face from side to side, her hair spraying the mess everywhere. She burrowed down into it making the most wild snorting noises as she laughed and giggled.

Suddenly another bag burst and something very thick and gooey landed squarely on to her butt. She groaned as she reached behind and worked one finger into her small tight hole. She continued to work the finger around inside her as wallowed her face in the goo.

Gill reached between her legs, her face to one side , as she once again found her pussy with her fingers, both of her entrances now being worked frantically. Her legs almost gave way so she flipped over on to her back with a splash. She still worked away at her pussy, whilst her other hand roved over her body. Another bag burst and then another. Treacle and more custard exploded on to her body as she bucked and jerked with each impact. Gills back arched as her fingers once again concentrated on her clit. She began to stroke her nipples softly before the whole thing subsided and she settled back with a sigh.

She looked up. All of the bags had burst. She stroked her body gently and closed her eyes. Clouds had begun to gather and as she lay there it started to rain. “What a perfect climax” she mused to her self.

Peanut Butter Betty, by MessyBoy

I’ve seen all the new story postings here etc etc etc.

Peanut Butter Betty by MessyBoy


Betty stared at her friend Cindy with disbelief. “What?” she asked. “I said,” Cindy repeated, “that I read that you can use peanut butter to improve your complexion.” She pointed at the piece of paper in her hand, which appeared to be a computer printout, but which Betty could not read from across the room.

“Peanut…butter?” Betty said incredulously. To her, peanut butter had always been merely something to toss between two pieces of bread. Certainly, she liked peanut butter. When the school menu for the next day appeared to be less-than-appetizing, she usually went with a peanut butter sandwich as a backup choice. But as a skin treatment?

“That’s what it says,” said Cindy. “Since you’re going to try out for the cheerleading squad this year, I figure you should try whatever might work.”

Betty nodded. It was a little strange, but cheerleading tryouts *were* going to take place at the beginning of the school year, and she *did* want to look her best. Not that her skin really needed anything, or any other part of her for that matter. Her golden curls were just long enough to turn heads, while not so long that they would get in the way during complicated routines. Her legs were smooth and firm, the work of many an hour spent running and cycling, two of her favorite hobbies. And of course her breasts were the envy of half the school—just the right size, they fit comfortably into her bra—while some of the girls in her grade still didn’t even need bras. But back to her skin—it was tanned slightly, just enough to create that warm, sunny tone. And not a single mark—no dimples, no moles, and of course no pimples—marked its smooth, silky surface. But still…she had heard that the tryouts were awfully difficult….”All right,” said Betty, “I’ll give it a try, when I get home.”

“Okay,” replied Cindy, secretly pleased, “and you can let me know how it goes?” Betty nodded. Cindy was no beauty, but they were good friends and they always shared beauty tips.

The conversation turned to other matters, and while it wasn’t in her mind constantly, Betty had not forgotten the peanut butter. When she finally got home that night, she headed for the pantry to check on the peanut-butter supply, holding Cindy’s computer printout in her hand. Betty lived alone a lot of the time—she was an only daughter and both her parents worked full time, and often went out to long dinner parties on some nights. This was one of those nights, so Betty could be guaranteed privacy to experiment. She read the printout, which had some technical gobbeldygook about skin textures, which she ignored. It went on to state that the best brand to work with would be Jif, and of course to use creamy, not chunky.

The printout also said that it could be done either clothed or naked. Betty pondered that. Of course it would probably be best to try it naked, but somehow the idea of being covered in peanut butter with her clothes on attracted her. She shrugged and decided to give it a go. She had, after all, many old outfits which she would never dream of wearing again. She walked out of the kitchen and into her room. Pulling off her shirt, she undid her bra—which was still usable—letting her ample chest out into the air of her room. She pulled off her jeans and panties, exposing her entire smooth body to the house. Walking up to the mirror, she examined herself, either found or imagined a few faults in her skin, and walked back to the dresser. For her experiment she chose a rather old but still wearable pair of pink panties, a pair of jeans which was a little bit too small for her and had a small stain on it from when they painted the garage, and a faded tie-dye t-shirt which had just gone out of style. At last she was ready.

Walking back to the kitchen, she pulled open the pantry and somehow managed to find three whole unopened jars of Jif peanut butter. She grabbed two and walked to the bathroom. She shut the door, for no real reason—as stated above, there was no one home—and sat down in the large bathtub which was all her own. In fact, most of the upstairs floor, except a storage room, was all her own—her parents made a good bit of money. She sat up against the back of the tub and opened the first jar, setting the other one down on the floor of the tub.

She smelled the slight aroma of the peanut butter and felt a twinge of what felt like arousal. She shrugged it off as nervousness and prepared to get messy. As she brought her right hand to the top of the jar, her mind flashed back to a childhood desire to push her hand down into a jar of peanut butter, and decided that this was the time to indulge it. She reached down into the thick, gooey stuff, and felt a rush of pleasure. She moved her hand around under the surface, felt the peanut butter becoming less resistant and allowing her hand to slide around in its wonderful embrace. After a minute she pulled out her hand and saw it covered completely with the peanut butter. With a slight effort she pulled her fingers apart and saw that the coating extended even across the area where her fingers had been together. Deciding to get on with it, she set the jar down, reached over, and began to rub the peanut butter up her left arm. Unconsciously following the printout’s instructions, she began smoothing it out, making a thin, obscuring coat over every bit of her arm. As she completed this she found herself aware of a warm wetness at her crotch and began to wonder just what effect the peanut butter was having on her. She decided she would find out soon enough, and again reached into the jar. This time she just grabbed a big glob of the stuff, and held it over her right leg. In a few seconds, the glob fell out of her hand and impacted into her knee with a wonderful “plop,” leaving a good bit still attached to her hand. She began rubbing it all up and down her leg, getting more from the jar when necessary, until her legs, like her arm, were completely coated. She brought her legs together and slid them against each other, not without effort. The slow sliding, almost slimy sensation, made her feel very, very good. Now unable—or unwilling—to deny the effects of the peanut butter on her sexual chemistry, she decided to go a little further. The feeling of the “filth” on her jeans was pleasureful, yes, but she wanted more on her bare skin. Seeing that the first jar was almost empty, she tossed it aside and picked up the second one, then opened it. Setting it down, she used her messy hands to pull off her jeans. Getting them unbuttoned with her sticky hands was no easy task, but she managed, in the process getting little streaks of the peanut butter all over her t-shirt and waistline. She then stopped.

She had gotten the jeans messy before taking them off—why not the t-shirt and panties as well? She noticed as she thought this that her panties were indeed quite damp and her crotch quite warm. Feeling very, very naughty, she reached into the second jar, again enjoying its sensual pleasures, and pulled out an enormous glob of the stuff. Placing her hand on her breast, she smeared off most of the peanut butter, and then sent both hands to work massaging her mammaries through the fabric, in the process ruining her once-almost-beautiful shirt, and also making herself very hot. Finally she gave up on the shirt and pulled it off, leaving only her pink panties.

Deciding to take a different angle with the panties, she gathered up some of the peanut butter sitting on the floor of the tub, as well as some from the jar, and placed a big glob on the floor. Raising herself up, she then sat down, right on the small pile of peanut butter. She felt it smoosh up around her and a wave of indescribable anticipation struck her. Practically ripping the panties off, she made another pile and sat down again, this time with nothing between her and the peanut pleasure pile. She moaned as she felt her firm, naked ass, sink into the peanut butter, and moaned even harder as she felt the peanut butter come up into her ass. Trembling, she reached over to the now-half-empty second jar and pulled out most of its contents, bringing them up to her beautiful, naked chest, and smeared the sticky, gooey goodness all over herself. Her nipples had been hard before—she had barely noticed—but now they were like rocks. She smeared long and hard, covering herself in that wonderful, sensual coating of peanut butter. Finally she orgasmed, shivering in intense pleasure. As she came out of her wave of delight, she realized that she had yet to do her face, crotch, and naked legs, and she was practically out of peanut butter. Standing up, not caring what sort of mess she might make, she stepped out of the tub, tracking peanut butter as she went. She opened the door, leaving peanut butter all over the door handle, and stepped out into the hall.

Now, while Betty had chosen to stock up from the downstairs kitchen, she had a small pantry of her own upstairs for curing the munchies during late-night study sessions. It was to this that she went, in the process leaving little blobs of peanut butter all over. She reached the pantry, pulled it open, and evaluated its contents, breathing rapidly. She saw one half-empty and one unopened jar of peanut butter, grabbed both, and set them on the floor. She wanted more. Completely oblivious to the mess she was making of the wooden and tiled floors, she made her way downstairs, and opened the pantry, only to find—Cindy, standing next to the pantry and scanning the printout which Betty had left there. Cindy looked up, gasped, and giggled. “How’s it working?” she asked with a blush.

Betty could only blush and moan, “It feels….so….goood…I need moooore…”

Cindy giggled again and took off her backpack. As she opened it, she explained, “I came over to see how you were doing and to get that makeup you were going to let me try. Since my dad works in a peanut butter factory we always have a bunch of it around the house, so I grabbed a few jars on my way out. I thought that I could try it with you, maybe.”

Betty gasped as Cindy pulled out of the backpack not one, not two, not three, but four beautiful cans of Jif peanut butter. Without a word, Betty grabbed them and raced upstairs, not seeing Cindy pull out several more jars and start slowly following her.

Back in the bathtub, Betty opened all six cans, four of them Cindy’s and two of them her own, and sighed in sheer happiness as she pulled out the contents of one jar after another, making an *enormous* pile on the floor of the tub in front of her. Spreading it out a little, she sat up, took a deep breath, and pushed herself downward, face-first, into the peanut butter.

That gave Cindy the opportunity to slip into the bathroom without being noticed and take up a silent observation post next to the bathtub, as Betty smeared herself around and around in the peanutty mess. She was always good at holding her breath for a long time and for a good minute she wallowed in the sticky mess, enveloping everything that wasn’t already enveloped—except her hair—in the wonderful, tasty, fantastic peanut butter. Finally she drew herself out. Her eyes still covered, she didn’t see Cindy slipping out of her clothes, revealing her attractive, if not outright sexy, figure. She did, however, feel Cindy reaching over to wipe the goo out of her eyes, and gasped at the sight of her friend’s nakedness. They had of course seen each other naked before but given the circumstances, it was a bit of a surprise. However, Betty was too close to another orgasm to be in any way fazed by this, and simply leaned back, leaving goo all over the back of the tub and giving Cindy room to step in and sit down in the pile which until then bore a vague impression of Betty’s body. As Cindy got in Betty saw that she was carrying six more jars of peanut butter, and moaned as Cindy opened two of them to go through her own pleasures. Cindy orgasmed there in the peanut butter, while coating her ass, and after the wave of pleasure subsided, she silently took the remaining four jars, opened them all, and dumped their contents in her now-brown lap. She slowly slid her way closer to the entranced Betty, and suddenly was lying in her arms. Betty expressed some surprise but as Cindy began massaging her clit with the wonderful peanut butter she forget everything, and simply grabbed more globs of the peanut butter to further goo-ify their gooey embrace. They slid around each other in the sticky mess, feeling a pleasure which neither had ever felt the like of before. As each mouth found its way to the other person’s body, they simply moaned in delight and indulged the wonderful pull of the sticky, sensual peanut butter. They orgasmed simultaneously, in a final burst of supreme pleasure, and then, feeling spent, they both collapsed away from each other and into the mess.

Ten minutes later, still lying there, Cindy admitted that she had constructed the whole situation to give her a chance to experiment with messy substances—she had written the printout herself and there was no real benefit from peanut butter on the skin, although she had made sure it would do no harm. Smiling, Betty said simply that she didn’t mind at all, and that if Cindy ever had any more experiments she wanted to try, she was available. After a moment, she added that she might have some experiments of her own…

The End



Out of the Closet, by Messy Muddy Michael

“Out of the closet, and on to…” (F/F Mud)

By Messy Muddy Michael

The events, places, and persons portrayed within this piece are complete fiction. Any similarity is strictly by accident. This story is 100% public domain. Please feel to distribute this to all your friends and family, and post to any and all homepages that desire such subject matter. I only ask that you do not change any part of the story (except for spelling errors).

Joe has been married to Joyce for about 3 years. Joe has been WAM fan for many years, and Joyce has been very open minded about this, but had never really embraced the concept. Joyce never complained when Joe decided to purchase the latest WAM tape, and would even record news clips about wet and messy eventsfor him. Once in awhile, Joyce would watch these WAM tapes with Joe, and although she was never disgusted by them, she never really showed much sign of enjoying them either. Joe has always had a feeling that Joyce wants to try being messy, but denies it if she is asked. So Joe never pushes her.

A few weeks back, Joyce was at work talking to her friend Mandy. She mentioned that Joe had just received another video tape in the mail, and that they had watched it last night. Mandy noticed a little smile play around on Joyce’s face as she described some of the scenes from the tape.

“You enjoy watching those tapes don’t you?” inquired Mandy.

“Don’t be silly.” retorted Joyce.

“So you really find them digusting, right?”

Joyce hesitated, then said “They don’t disgust me.”

“Then you do like them”.

“Yeah, I guess I do, a little” Joyce was blushing.

“Admit it, you would like to be covered in mud, or some other messy material, right?” Mandy coaxed. “It would turn you on as much as it would Joe”

“Well I might like it, but …. I don’t know..”

“I think you should give it a try. Sounds like fun to me. Hey, I have to get back to work. Talk to you later.” Mandy leaves the break room, leaving Joyce to think.

Recently, Joyce was at work when she checked e-mail. She had a message titled, “Your lucky day”, from Mandy. The message was about a mud volleyball happening at the ball field near her home this afternoon. Mandy suggested she go have a look, just watch, and see what she thinks. Joyce’s heart started to beat a little faster. She knew taht she had to go. She thiught to herslef that she didn’t have get muddy, just see things up close, and decide if she would like to try it one day or not. It was decided, she would stop by after work, and see what happens.

Joyce arrived at the field as things were nearing an end. The four volleyball courts were nothing more then large pits of ankle deep mud with nets streched across the center. The semi-finals were going on as she arrived, so only two of the courts were in use. The other two were vacant, with exception of a few people wrestling around, and throwing mud at one another. Joyce watched as a college girl dressed in blue shorts, x-large white t-shirt and white ankle calf length socks walked toward one of the pits. She gently stepped into it, and her feet sank right in to just above her ankles. The girl continued to walk, moving a few feet forward, then she slipped and fell butt first intot the mess. As Joyce watched this, her heart was pounding at a furious pace. She was dying to see what it was like to, but she was still a little embarassed about doing it. Just then a gentleman came up to, and said “Looks like fun, don’t you think?” Joyce was surprised by the man. She said “yes, it does look like fun.”

“Why don;t you join in?’ The man said.

“I don’t have a change of clothes” Joyce replyed

“Just take around aorunf the pit. It’ll be fun”

“I don’t know…” Joyce said.

“I’ll give you $100 dollars to just walk across the pit, and back again.”

Joyce thought about this for moment. She thought to herself “I could just wash my feet off, and Joe will not know” So she told the man “o.k., I’ll do it.” Joyce looked carefully at the man, and asked him “Have we met before?”

“No, I don’t think so”

Joyce just shrugged her shoulders, and set about to her task. She kicked off her flats, walked towards the pit. She was dressed in a white blouse, black skirt, and black panyhose. As she walked towards the pit, she admired the feeling of stepping on the many bits of mud that had been thrown about. When she reached the edge of the pit, she paused for a moment. “Well here goes” she thought, and stepped forward. As her right foot sank into the mud, Joyce was overwelmed by the feeling of mud oozing around her nylon covered foot. Without much hesitation, she quickly brought her other foot forward, and there she was, standing ankle deep in the mud. She started to slide her feet around, just enjoying the feeling, before continuing across the pit. Each step caused her to become more and more aroused. She would never have believed that this could feel so good. When she reached the opposite edge of the pit, she had a look of disappointment on her face, as she knew that her fun was already half over. She turned around, and headed back. As she got about half way across, two kids jumped in front of her, and started to wrestle around. She didn’t want to ruin their fun, so she started to walk around them, and that’s when it happened. As she walked around, the ground under her feet seemed to dissappear. Suddenly Joyce sank up to her waist into a large, deep mud hole. She her nylon and cotton cover crotch hit the mud, she let a groan of pleasure. When Joyce opened her eyes, she looked down, and saw her skirt floating on top of the mud. Everything else from the waist down was buried in mud. Joyce started to move around, but the going was slow. Then all of the sudden, the man who offered the $100, came up to the edge of the deep mud hole, with microphone in hand, and said “Smile, your on Candid Funny Practical Joke Videos” It was then that Joyce recognized the man, he was the host of a nationally televised program that catches people on hidden caerma as pracical jokes are played on them. Joyce couldn’t help but start to laugh.

“Would you like to know who played this joke on you?”

Joyce just nodded yes. Then from the crowd that had gathered, out stepped Mandy, dressed in a white jogging suit, and white socks. She trotted across the pit, and jumped in to the hole with Joyce. Mandy, being shorter than Joyce, sank almost up to her tits. “See, I told you you would like it.” Mandy bragged. “You little shit!!” Joyce said, as she started to throw mud at Mandy. Then the wrestling began. Within no time, both them were covered in mud. To get back at Mandy, Joyce reached down below the mud, put out the waistband of Mandy’s jogging pants, instantly filling them with mud. Joyce let the waistband snap back, and crawled out of the pit.

“Just try to get out of there now” Joyce laughed.

Mandy tried to move, but it was no use. There was no way she would be able to move with her pants filled with so much mud. But, having very little modestly, Mandy simply slipped the pants off as far a she could, and slowly crawled out of the pit. There Mandy stood, in her muddy Sweat shirt, ankle socks, and panties, all covered in mud.

“I’ll have to make sure Joe and I watch something else on Sunday. If he see’s this program, I’ll never here the end of it.” Joyce exclaimed.

“Oh I don’t think that will be a problem” Mandy said, as she went back to the pit to retrieve here pants.

“Why do you say that Mandy?”

“Because I recorded the whole for myself”

Joyce turned around, and there was Joe, with camcorder in hand. Joe gave Joyce a big hug, and said “I knew you had it in you”

Just Another Day at the Office, by SirMarhalt

Just Another Day at the Office

My secretary is the world’s biggest tease. She insists on being called an “administrative assistant” and this truly is a more accurate description of the nature of her job. I still call her my secretary because it pisses her off. Carla is about 5’7″ and has thick black hair that hangs down to her shoulders. Sometimes she wears it in a frizzy perm and other times in soft gentle curls. She has big dark eyes and long lashes . She can get anything she wants with her smile and she knows it. She has a body that bespeaks several hours a week of aerobics and the stairmaster. If she wasn’t so good at her job my partner and I would have fired her long ago. Carla has evolved from secretarial work to administrative assistant in a very short time. I have gotten to the point where I actually encourage her creative input. She also has a talent for flirting that is truly exceptional and she seems to know exactly how far she can go with any given man. I hate to admit it but she has gotten us a lot of business with this skill.

I am part owner of an advertising agency. We produce commercials for the local television station for businesses here in town. This is a stressful business that requires one to think creatively under enormous pressure. This pressure sometimes leads to behavior that is somewhat less than mature. Take our annual practical joke war. Each year in the springtime Carla and I play a series of practical jokes on one another involving a common theme. Two years ago the theme was plastic spiders (she didn’t speak to me for a week after I hid a real tarantula in her desk drawer) and last year it was water. The water war was fun. It started with small squirt guns and the standard water bucket on top of the door gag and ended at a lawn party with both of us fully clothed in my neighbors swimming pool.

I thought long and hard about this year’s theme and decided to approach the subject in a way that would appeal to Carla yet not make her so mad she would quit her job. Susan, my partner, would kill me if that happened. Each year we all go out to lunch at our favorite restaurant during secretaries week. (We call it “Carla Appreciation Week” at our office.) I volunteered to make the reservation this year. I went to the restaurant the day before and explained to our waitress what I had in mind. Her eyes got big and she said, “Are you sure you want me to do this?” When I said yes she said “I’m going to enjoy this more than your secretary!”

So the next day we’re sitting at the table in the restaurant waiting for Carla to finish her cigarette (this is one of the many ways she gets back at me for calling her a secretary) . As usual, Susan and Carla were dressed at exactly opposite ends of the spectrum. Susan was wearing a perfectly tailored business suit while Carla was wearing a black leather vest over a white blouse and her tightest jeans. The waitress came to our table carrying a dozen roses which she ceremoniously handed to Carla.

I said, “Carla, Susan and I just want to thank you for being such a great secretary.”

The waitress picked up a large cream pie from a nearby dessert cart and pushed it into my face. She twisted the pie slowly back and forth and said, “She’s not a secretary she’s an administrative assistant you moron!” I could hear Carla howling with laughter along with everyone in the restaurant.. Everyone but Susan, that is. I let the pie slowly drop into my lap and looked over at them. Carla was still laughing uncontrollably while Susan’s face had the pained expression it always has when she thinks Carla and I are acting childish.

Susan is your typical Nordic ice-queen. She has long blond hair, high cheekbones, a small perfectly turned up nose, and impossibly deep blue eyes. She also has no sense of humor at all. Needless to say, she handles all of the financial aspects of our business while Carla and I handle the creative part.

I wiped some of the pie off my face and said, “So what do you think our theme for this year’s practical joke war should be?”

“You’ve got to be kidding!” said Susan.

“I think it’s a great idea!” said Carla as she drew her finger across my face and tasted it. “What kind of pie is that? It’s perfect for plastering someone.”

“Buttercreme frosting. Just go down to Carol’s bakery on Fifth street and tell her I sent you.”

We both agreed wear clothes that we didn’t mind getting pie on for the next two weeks. Susan also made us agree not to hit each other with pies while our clients were in the office. Carla and I both rolled our eyes at this request.

The next day Carla and I watched each other very carefully and Susan watched us both with a mixture of disdain and amusement. Carla was wearing a black blouse and a tight black leather skirt. I always watch her carefully when she wears that outfit. Later that afternoon, as I was coming out of the copy room I noticed Carla putting on her black leather gloves and jacket as she left the building. I rushed into the office and grabbed the pie I brought. I quickly went out the door Carla always takes when she goes on a cigarette break and sure enough, there she was, standing with her back to me telling a group of people about our “pie war”. I snuck up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and I slowly pushed the pie into her face and held it there.

I said, “Okay folks, how many of you think Carla is way over matched in this contest of wits?” This resulted in a chorus of applause and laughter. I released the pie and Carla stood there with her hands at her sides and listened to everyone laughing while the pie slowly slid down her face. Then she took a puff on her cigarette and said, “Very good. I can see I’m up against a pro here.”

Carla left before I did that day and as I walked to my car I congratulated myself on outsmarting her on the first day. I got in my car and just before I turned the key I got a pie in the face. Carla held it there and spoke directly into my ear. “You should always check your back seat before you get in a car. You never can tell who might be hiding back there.” She got out of my car and said, “See you tomorrow sweetie”

This went on for a week. One of the best times I got her was while she was on the phone. She was talking away while staring out the window. I snuck up behind her and waited for her to finish talking. She was saying something like, “Okay, I’ve gotta get back to work … Ohhh ” as she turned to get a facefull of buttercreme frosting. “No, I’m allright. Remember that pie in the face thing I was telling you about? Well, I just got one right in the kisser…” . She sat there with the phone in her ear and her face up turned so that the pie just sat there. “How does it feel? It feels like a facial with crust. You should try it sometime.” I squeezed her shoulder and left, laughing.

One night right after I got home from work there was a knock on the door. I opened the door and there was a beautiful blonde in a cheerleader outfit. “Hi, my name is Shelly and I’m selling cookies for my cheerleader squad.”

“That’s great, what kind do you have?” I asked.

She quickly took a pie from behind her back and let me have it. “Oh, wait. Actually I’m selling pies. I can never get that straight.” she said while she twisted the pie back and forth. I could hear Carla giggling in the background.

“That’s not fair,” I protested. “You can’t let other people hit me!”

“Okay. Here.” Carla pushed a pie into my face while the blonde laughed.

Well two can play that game.

The next day Carla put on her long black leather trench coat and left the building for her afternoon smoke break. She sensed something was wrong as soon as she stepped out the door. “Why aren’t any of you smoking?” she asked. She quickly turned around to check behind her. There was no one there. As she turned back around one of her fellow secretaries gave her a pie in the face. This was quickly followed by one on either side of her head. I emerged from the building just in time to put one on top of her head. She stood there in stunned silence while everyone had yet another laugh at her expense.

I ceremoniously drew my finger across her face and tasted it. “Allright, breaktime’s over. Don’t you have some filing or typing to do?”

Carla tentatively touched her hair with her gloved fingers and winced noticeably when she realized what a mess she was. “I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to top this,” she said.

The next few days were uneventful since we were in the process of negotiating for a series of commercials for one of the biggest auto dealers in town. We would all be significantly wealthier if we won this account. We decided to close the deal at our usual restaurant over lunch.

In addition to the money, I was really hoping to get this account because the client, Amanda Jacobs, has an excellent sense of humor. I just knew she would really appreciate the funny commercials Carla and I could come up with. As it turned out, old Amanda had a better sense of humor than I realized.

After lunch we presented Amanda with the contract and she announced, “Everything looks great but before I sign there is one small service I want you partners to provide to demonstrate the depth of your commitment.”

Susan and I looked at each other and then Amanda with no small amount of suspicion. Then I noticed that Carla had stood up and was motioning to our waitress who was wheeling a dessert cart loaded with pies to our table.

“If you want me to sign this contract you’re going to have to let Carla and I give each one of you four pies in the face or wherever we deem appropriate,” Amanda said. “Carla and I have been holding some additional negotiations that we decided not to tell you about.”

Susan groaned.

I said, “Good one Carla. I’m going to have to concede victory here.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Susan.

“Trust me Susan, I’ve never been more serious,” Amanda said with equal parts conviction and bitchiness. Then she picked up a pie and said, “I’m going to count to three …”

“Allright, allright I’ll do ohhhhh…” was all Susan got out before Carla pushed a pie into her upturned, disbelieving, pretty face,.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for 3 years!” Carla said as she slowly twisted the pie back and forth. The restaurant erupted in loud cheers and laughter.

“Amanda, I’ll really owe you one if you let me give her the next pie,” I implored.

“Yeah, I think he deserves this,” said Carla as she handed me a pie.

“If you do that I’ll never speak to you again,” snapped Susan.

“Promises, promises,” I laughed and then I carefully plastered her hair. Amanda took over and gave her the other two pies, taking great care to get as mush as possible on Susan’s business suit.

“Now it’s your turn sweetie,” said Carla, holding up a pie.

I stood up and gave her a long kiss, “Lemme have it, partner!”

Carla stopped, “You mean it?”

I looked at Susan. “Is that okay with you, Susan?”

Susan looked up at us wearily under several ounces of frosting and a ruined business suit and said, “Sure, why not. I’ve already got one immature loon for a partner, why not have two?”

That was the last civil thing she said to either of us for a month.