Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Let Them Eat Cake!

Actually we didn't eat it.

We may have been drinking at touch. I did this dinner once a month that brought all sorts of odd folks down to the city. Granted, what had mostly brought the odd folk down to the city was that I also led a rope-bondage workshop to teach some basic decorative knots. The workshop went well, I taught some simple moves for tying people up, and then we went to dinner.

For the workshop (since I am a good hostess) we bought an assortment of snacks, laid out some cheese, and bought a cake. The cake went mostly untouched. After the workshop, and in the two-hour pause between workshop and dinner, where we tried to get the workshop out of our system, the cake went untouched. The cake did not make it to dinner, and so, the cake was still where we had left it at the beginning of the afternoon. On the table.

The cake was tempting.

The Artist, and the Maiden (a visitor from the southern climes) were both in the kitchen looking at that cake and drinking Jack Danielswhich never really was a very good idea. Or perhaps it was, but after a night of lovely wine and drinking, I was just happy to get home and out of my corset and into a bathrobe.

When suddenly I heard, "I want to just rub that cake all over myself."

"Yeah," The Artist agreed.

"Let's get naked and rub that cake all over ourselves."



"You are going to join us in the naked rubbing of cake all over ourselves, aren't you?" It's really hard to turn down two beautiful woman asking you to join them in naked cake rubbing.

And so, without much further ado, I wound up in the bathroom with two girls, standing in the bathtub and taking handfuls of cake to smear over various parts of our bodies.

There was a quiet knock at the door.

"I have a vagina, may I come in?"

While the dinner had adjourned to my apartment, and three gentleman had come back with us, for the most part the boys were not invited to watch or partake of the cake bit. However, there was also a newcomer joining us for the first time. While I tried not to freak people out the first time they met me, sometimes you just had to smear cake all over the naked bodies of other woman.

The girls were fine with it.

"Sure, come on in," I called to her.

She was all blue eyes and jet-black hair, with a hint of shyness but also curiosity. It was her eyes that stoood out, like pools, and you dropped in them. It was not her only feature that was enchanting: being both large of bust, and tiny of waist she was like a little Japanese doll, a Gieshaat once both strong and delicate. The Giesha did not join us, but she was happy to stand in the corner and watch.

We laughed merrily and want back to our cake. The Maiden turned around "smack my ass with cake!" she cried, and so we did. We smeared handfuls of cake over each others' breasts and nipples, coating ourselves in frosting and taking turns nipping it off. There were cake-like streaks over our bellies and bare bottoms, where fingers and tongues picked up wet trails. We smeared cake on each others' faces and giggled and laughed and made a right mess in the bathroom until we ran out of cake to smash on each other.

"You know, this has got to be low-carb hell," I said.

We giggled again and each took turns washing off the cake, clogging the drain with the cakey aftermath and trying not to slip and slide in the remains.

The next morning, as we all woke up at various times, I asked the Artist to clean the bathroom, which she thankfully did, as I just could not deal with it myself.

As she walked down the hall I heard her exclaim through the apartment "How the hell did cake get on the ceiling?"

The only answer was smiles.

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