As thoughts turned to Friday, I realised I needed to write something for my Fetish Friday meme. As some of you may know, it has become something of a joke that I like a bit of sploshing. What’s sploshing? I hear you exclaim. Well it’s a little bit messy and a lot of fun…
My mind set to wandering and I let my imagination roam to the kitchen…
My girlfriend loves baking so I see her standing there, just in an apron and heels, putting the finishing touch of buttercream to an excessively large gateau. The cream oozes out of the sides, with a triple layering teamed with strawberry jam.
I come up behind her and smack her playfully on her bare bottom, pleased that we have the whole house to ourselves as well as for the fact that the kitchen window overlooks nothing but acres and acres of fields. Thank goodness for the countryside. It’s where all the best stuff happens, you know.
Reaching around her to swipe my finger through the buttercream icing on top of the cake, she responds with instant squeals of protest. Before she has a chance to react, I’ve smeared it on her nose. I can’t help but flash her a massive grin as her head whips around to glare at me, starting off indignant; then her eyes slowly gaining a wicked twinkle that alerts all of my senses at once. Especially in certain areas.
“I’ll lick it off, if you like,” I tell her, still with a stupid grin plastered to my face. “Unless you preferred it sucked, slowly…”
“You’re going to regret this, young lady,” she retorts, raising the apron to wipe her nose clean, both removing my chance for a creamy taste and at the same time, flashing me the most perfectly shaved pussy at the top of her creamy thighs that I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen it before of course, through all of our intimate liaisons, but it never fails to ignite my passion and send that surge of utter need through me. I licked my lips preemptively.
Suddenly her hand comes round seemingly out of nowhere, and before I know it, there’s a splodge of buttercream and cake between my breasts, heaving with my surprised spluttering in the lace edged push up bra underneath the scoop neck vest I’d thrown on that morning.
“You utter bitch!” I cry, arms outstretched and pieces of cake and smears of buttercream falling ever lower under my top. “Well I’m going to have to take it off now, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Such a shame,” she tells me, her face very decidedly in a ‘told-you-you’d-regret-it’ expression which just makes me want to pin her to the cold tiled floor then and there and give her exactly what for.
Peeling off my vest over my head, the cream smears up the side of my face and through my long hair. Other than the vest, I’d just pulled on some boyshorts to wander down to the kitchen… which suddenly were being invaded by cold, creamy fingers…
“What the…!” I stutter, vest half over my head, as she’d once again taken the opportunity for revenge and buttercream was now being pressed against my flushed hot labia and over my hardening clit nub. I wriggle, trying to break free of her grasp and just about manage to get her hand removed from against my intimate zone as I pull the vest off completely and let it drop to the floor.
“Well if I’m a bitch I may as well act like it,” she says, without a trace of contrition. I know she’s daring me, wondering if I am up to the challenge, the challenge she’s so evidently set by presenting herself to me in this way, this morning. Am I up to this? Damn right I am.
Standing in the centre of the kitchen in a bra and boyshorts, breasts coated with cake and cream, the front of the shorts damp and stained from the filthy food tussle against my pussy, it’s of course difficult not to be aroused. She isn’t helping in the slightest, standing there all perfect 50s housewife: cool cake fingers and heels and dark doe eyes and apron and barely concealed, perfectly curved and smooth nudity…
Fuck this, I think. In the spur of the moment I wrestle her to the ground and on my way down to the floor with her, I grab another handful of cake. Giggling and wriggling, her eyes are ablaze as she no doubt wonders what will happen next. Reaching under her apron I smear the buttercream and sodden cake mix between her legs, completely covering her pretty pink pussy lips and sliding a finger up in between to meet the juices inside.
She gasps and her head tilts upwards as her eyes squeeze shut, not even attempting to fight the full force of desire thundering down upon her as my fingers invade her, all sticky and creamy and messy.
My bare knees are spread on the tiled floor. I pull up her apron completely to bare her thighs, as well as the cream covered apex clamping around my filthy fingers. Prising her legs apart, I bend down to have a taste of my exotic and erotic, calorie laden breakfast. My nose rubs against her prominent shiny clitoris, as my tongue darts out to slowly trail over the creamy surface of her velvet soft pussy lips, now puffy and flushed beneath the gooey mess.
Dipping deep within, I feel my face get coated with the mess and bury myself even deeper, revelling in the myriad of dirty sensations and stretching out my tongue as far as I can to taste all of her and tongue-fuck her to ecstasy. A hand comes up to fondle her fantastic breasts as my other hand teases the soft place between her pussy and ass, before slipping a finger inside her pussy to join my tongue. I know she loves that. Two teasing, flickering, licking and finger fucking parts inside her at once, filling and rubbing and stretching and swirling. I know exactly where her G-spot is and target it with the circling of my soft fingertip as my tongue darts downwards and never stops moving even for a second.
She eventually gives up trying to fight and utters a primal, passionate noise as she orgasms, ejecting sticking juices mixed with buttercream all around my tongue and adding to the mess on my face. I look up into her eyes as her breathing returns to normal over the next minute or so and she finally meets my eyes, smiling down at me.
“I knew I made that cake for a reason,” she says, cheekily.
“Well there’s still some left to finish,” I reply, with a hopeful smile.
I reach around to unhook my bra as she sits up, reaching forward to peel off my incredibly saturated boyshorts…
*** *** *** ***
Quite a gentle introduction to sploshing, although it can get as wet and messy as you desire. Cake is fantastic though, isn’t it?
Do you fancy reading Part Two? If so, leave me a comment below and I might be nice enough to write that up for next week…