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I turn up at your house in the early afternoon. It’s a warm day and I am wearing a couple of t-shirts, a pair of combat trousers and boots. You smile at me, and I can’t help blushing slightly. You usher me in.
You offer me tea and I accept a glass of water. We sit in your kitchen. We don’t make too much small talk. We each know why I am here, and we are only passing time until we can get down to it.
I say that I only have a couple of hours before I have to set out for the airport. You smile and say that that’s plenty of time. I am trembling, almost imperceptibly – I haven’t been this excited since I was last on a first date.
“Just before we start,” you say casually, “what about ground rules? I mean, I assume nudity’s okay?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, feigning a casualness I don’t feel. “I don’t normally do this clothed anyway, so…”
“You said in your profile that sex was no problem…” you say tentatively. I smile and nod, a little nervous.
“No, I’m fine with that,” I say. “You can do what you like with me. Use me,” I add with a smile. You raise your eyebrows slightly and smile back. God, I am getting aroused.
“Okay then,” you say, standing up. “Shall we go in?”
I follow you into the living room. There on the floor is the paddling pool. I am taken aback by the dozens of pies laid out on every available flat space…the six buckets of cake batter in various glossy shades of dayglo pink, green and blue…the packets of eggs…
“Wow,” I say with a small nervous laugh, “is that all for me?”
“Why don’t you take off your clothes except for your t-shirt and shorts,” you say in a somewhat curt voice. “Then kneel in the paddling pool.” I am suddenly aware that we’ve started, and that our relationship has changed; you’re no longer the charming host, you’re the master, and I am no longer the anxious-to-please guest, I’m the victim.
I kneel down obediently and unlace my boots, then I take off my socks. I pull my black t-shirt over my head, revealing the cheap white one I bought in Marks and Spencer a couple of hours earlier. Then I slide my combats down my legs, revealing the blue boxer shorts I also bought, and am wearing in place of my ordinary boxers, which are in my bag. You smile that I’ve come prepared. I step gingerly over the pies and into the paddling pool, where I kneel.
I look up at you, fearfully. You pick up a box of a dozen eggs and come forward. I raise my head and look up at you. You take an egg out of the box and break it on my forehead. It slides down over my face and I shut my eyes, making a little gasp. You break another, then another, then another. The egg flows over my face, spilling down the front of my t-shirt, pooling in my lap and sliding down my bare legs. You break more and more eggs over my head, and then you tilt my head forward slightly and break them on the back of my head so that they slide down my back. I whimper. I have never done this with a man before, and I feel that you have total power over me.
When the box is empty, my head is covered with a thin coating of glossy egg white and burst yellow yolk. I raise my head and blink it out of my eyes. You can see the bulge in my shorts already.
“You want more?” you say, smiling cruelly.
“Oh casino şirketleri yes please…” I sigh. You pick up a bucket of cake batter and raise it over my head. I lift my head and look up at it, knowing what you are going to do and half-wishing that you wouldn’t. You tilt the bucket and the pale green gunge pours out, flowing over my forehead and down over my face. I close my eyes and open my mouth wide to breathe as it covers my face completely, oozing swiftly down onto my t-shirt and into my lap. “Oh, God…” I gasp. I can’t see anything. When it has stopped flowing, you say “You can wipe your eyes,” and, gratefully, I do so.
As soon as my vision is clear, I can see the pie starting to move. It smashes into my face. “GLPPP!” I moan. You follow it up with one on each side of my head and a fourth one on the top. I kneel, shaking as you pie me. I wait for the pie-crust to fall off my face and as soon as I can breathe, I gasp and moan. The other ones slither down the sides of my head.
“Take off your t-shirt,” comes your voice, slightly muffled by the pie goop still covering my ears. I grab the hem of my now filthy t-shirt and pull it up over my head, stripping it off me. Now I am just in my shorts. My chest is smooth and white. You smash a pie into my chest and another in my face, smearing it up over the top of my head. “Oohhh!” I gasp. Then I feel you pull back the waistband of my shorts and push another cool, oozing pie over my bare arse, before letting the waistband snap back, then pulling it forward at the front and shoving another pie into my crotch, where it chills my swollen cock and balls. I cry “Ohh God!” – now you’ve done it, now you’ve shown how far you’re prepared to go.
I shiver, partly with arousal, partly with the cool gunge on my skin. You slap a pie into my face and plant another on the back of my head, squeezing them together, mushing the gunge into my eyes. I make a muffled “MMMBLL!” When you let go, the pies drop off.
I hear you step back a little. I am slightly stunned at what you’ve already done to me. I’ve only been in your flat for twenty minutes, and already my head is a shapeless mass of gunge, my chest is smeared with goo and my shorts are filled with melting pie mess.
“Take your shorts off,” you say. I rise up off my heels and, hanging my head in shame, I slowly slide my blue boxers down over my hips. I’m not wearing anything underneath them. I uncover my arse and my crotch, bits of cream and crust still mashed over them, and I slide the shorts under my knees, then down my legs and off, discarding them on the floor of the paddling pool. I sink down onto my heels again, naked, my hands in my lap. I know you are getting off on the sight of me, a young naked man, being humiliated like this, and so am I.
You hit my face with a pie sandwich, one on each side. Then you take my arms and pull them behind my back – the pies still clinging to my face – and you smash a pie, and then another one, over my exposed cock and balls. I gasp with the cold and the pies slide off my face. You slap another pie over my bare arse, for good measure, rubbing it well in. I’ve only been naked with other men a few times, and never done anything as humiliating as this.
You let casino firmaları me wipe the inches-thick gunge off my face, then you place a bucket of yellow cake batter in the paddling pool. It’s a big, wide, deep bucket. You take me by the neck and gently but firmly pull me forward so that I’m on my hands and knees, then you thrust my head all the way into the bucket of batter, until my forehead touches the bottom. It closes around my neck. I let out helpless bubbling sounds. Then you let go of my neck. I pull my head out, gasping for breath. My head is a completely shapeless blob of bright yellow gunge – you find it very arousing, with the rest of my naked body smeared with pies and gunge but still pink and slender and firm. There is just an O at the front of the yellow blob of my head, where I’m breathing through my mouth. You slam a pie into my face and I make a frustrated whimper. You sandwich my head with another couple of pies and land a fourth on the top, then you pie my chest and upper back, smearing it over my shoulders and neck. My hands are thrust into my crotch and I’m stroking my stiff cock and moaning.
You clear some of the gunge from my face, so I can see you. I look up at you, blinking the goo out of my eyes with my long eyelashes, and you break egg after egg over my face. I have to hold my breath and keep my eyes shut as they burst over my nose and brow, and when at last you have finished, you take a bucket of pink cake batter and simply turn it upside down and lower it over my head.
Everything for me goes dark and muffled and sweet-smelling. The cool batter is flowing over my naked body and I can’t see or hear a thing. I just know that you are watching your naked victim kneeling in the pool of gunge, helplessly aroused as you mess him up more and more.
You lift the bucket off my head and I blink, moaning “Ooohhh…” as the pink gunge slithers down over my hips and into the crack of my arse. “Stand up,” you say sharply. I struggle to my feet – the three-inch pool of gunge on the floor of the paddling pool is slippery – and I stand docilely with my hands by my sides.
You approach me with a pie in each hand. You crouch down and, to my surprise, you pie my still relatively clean calves. Then you pie my knees and thighs, then my arse, then my groin, then my belly, and so on until, slowly and methodically, you have pied every last clean inch of my naked body, finishing me off with one on the back of my head, one on each side, another on the top and a last one smack in my face. “Ummhhh…” I whimper behind the round, brown pie-crust as it hangs on my face. Abruptly it is broken up by a second one. I can feel the weight of the gunge on my head. I stagger a little.
A pie is pushed into my groin and smeared around, sensuously. I moan. You pie me there again, rubbing it in. Then I feel your hands on my shoulders, pushing me down.
I get to my knees, and then I can feel the heat of your body through your t-shirt and shorts, close to me – then your cock is pushing through the mask of pie-crust and goo and pushing at my lips. I open my mouth in surprise and you push in, your stiff cock filling my mouth. “MMMFFF!!” I squeal. You hold my head and I grasp your legs as you begin to fuck my mouth. I wrap güvenilir casino my tongue around your cock and taste the whole length of you as you pump into my mouth. The pie is slowly oozing off my face – I feel the lumps of crust fall away, I blink, and I can glimpse your belly through a thin veil of cream – I look up at you, trying to see your face, but you humiliate me by pushing another pie down over my eyes, even as I’m sucking you off. I moan.
You have me where you want me – naked, covered from head to foot in gunge, utterly filthy and allowing you to take my mouth. At this moment, I would let you take me anyhow you wanted to. I shudder and whimper as I caress your cock with my tongue and lips and suddenly you seem to know what I want you to do, because you pull out of me.
“You want me?” you ask, your breathing harsh and urgent.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Where do you want me? You want me to fuck you in your boy-pussy, is that it?”
“Oh yes please,” I say, excited.
“Are you my bitch?” you rasp into my ear.
“Yes I am,” I sob.
“Say it! Say you’re my messy little bitch!”
“I’m your messy little bitch,” I whimper, and you shove me back so that I sprawl in the gunge on the floor of the paddling pool. You are far from tender. You roll me onto my belly and make me kneel, facing away from you, then you pick up a pie with one hand and grab my hips with the other, shoving your cock between my gooey, besmeared buttocks. I can’t believe I am letting you do this to me, but I want it so much, I want you to enter me.
Fortunately, we are both well lubricated. I gasp with the pain as your cock stabs my tight anus, but then I feel you slithering up inside me, filling my arse with your stiff cock, splitting me, and it feels fantastically dirty and forbidden. I moan with lust as you quickly and roughly shag me in my arsehole. “Oh Jesus!” I groan, with a mixture of agony and ecstasy, and the pressure of you inside me is making my cock build up, there is nothing I can do, I am so aroused by you taking me like this – and then you push the pie into my face and I feel you coming inside me, and I can’t help it anymore, I come helplessly all over the floor of the paddling pool, moaning muffled into the pie you are holding in my face. My legs give way and I collapse, sprawling on my belly, my face falling into the pool of gunge, you on top of me, your cock still firmly up my arse. I give a delirious little gurgling whimper.
You are panting. I think we were both surprised by how it ended. Gingerly, you pull out of me and stand up. I raise my blinded face out of the pool of goo and gasp for breath.
“You okay?” you ask softly.
“Oh yeah,” I pant. And the only visible feature on my face is a huge, blissful smile.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve showered and have finished dressing. Nobody would ever know that I had been made to strip, been pied and gunged all over my naked body, and had my mouth and my arse taken by an almost total stranger. I am clean and respectable again. I help you with some of the cleaning up, then I have to get the Tube. You see me off at the door of your flat, and we smile warmly at each other.
I go down the stairs, my arsehole still tingling slightly from you fucking me. As I get to the hallway on the ground floor, I stop and take out my phone. I have to text my girlfriend about meeting me at the airport. When she asks me “Have a good trip?”, I wonder what I’m going to tell her…
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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