Splaptism, Part 1 "Are you ready?" Was he kidding? Could I really have been anymore ready than I was as I stood before him, grinning ear to ear like a trash bag clad Cheshire with a maid's apron made of polyethylene? No, I wasn't ready. My grin did not waver as he held my fate before me as I stood unbound, waiting, patient for the answer he knew would come, and then I felt it. A flush of excitement crept from my bosom and flourished across my cheeks to stain my flesh pink. There it was. This was it. Now I was ready. With a nod of my head it began, and the world around me went deliciously dark; the splaptism had begun! Soft, cool, and wet, whipped cream was slicked across my face and plopped in sultry, goopy globs across my trash bag encased chest, and I squealed in delight. Words escaped me as the sugary foam was peeled away from my eyes, and I licked my lips as he guided me forward; we were far from over. SPLAT! SQUISH! Gooey gobs of chilled whipped cream filled my ears and coated my cheeks, and my mirth was deafened by my sloshing ear muffs. "Again!" I cried gleefully as I scraped more of the confectionary delight from my eyes; and oblige my request he did. The flashes of the camera in the background were quickly replaced by the explosions of the whipped cream that smashed against my covered chest. I drooled as I dipped my hands into it and rubbed it against my breasts through the ensemble. I felt sexy. I felt hot. I was tasty! I pressed my legs together as I began to adore my breasts in a way I never imagined I would be, squirming in delight from the sultry sensation of the cream against my slickly covered nipples. A step behind me and a hand tugging at my trash bag bikini was enough to cause my eyes to widen and I made move to look back at him. What was that in his hand? Oh sweet hallelujah! Yes, yes, yes! A pudding tin! There is a God, and he loves me! Slippery, cold, and oh so deliciously soft, a wave of creamy, yellow vanilla pudding drizzled and drained into my bottoms and my squealing began anew. I jiggled, I wiggled, I scooted, and smacked at my bottoms, every once in a while squeezing the pudding to slide out onto my legs as he set aside the can. Was I ready for what was to come next? To be continued... Eilvanwyn -------------------------------------- Note: Yes, this one's true. But there's a saying on the Internet: "Pics, or it didn't happen." Well, we aim to please, here at the Mess: Back to Shokolada's Messy Stories archive