I grabbed the first pie I saw, a chocolate cream pie in fact, and stood up brandishing it. She looked at me as though daring me to throw it, as though she'd be furious if I ruined her dress. Sadly for her, I could see her tongue curled over her top lip, the way I knew it did if she was aroused, so I threw the pie.
My aim was considerably better than Emma's, and the pie landed squarely in her face. The paper plate it had been 'served' on dropped to the floor, and lumps of pastry started to follow it. As the filing started to slide from her face, it dripped onto her dress, and continued the work begun by the custard. Emma cleared her eyes, and gave me the horniest look I have ever seen from her. "You are going to pay for that" she said, and I hoped that she was right.
We took a moment to gaze at each other, because we knew this would be the cleanest we would be for the rest of the night. We both wanted to continue this game, but neither of us moved. I decided that I couldn't wait any longer, and went to look under the bed again. I came up with a bottle of strawberry syrup, a dozen eggs, and an erection that was more than visible to Emma across the room. She raised her eyebrows and then struck a pose that said that I should do my worst to her.
The eggs were first. I put the box and the syrup on the bed, and removed an egg. I crossed over to Emma, and using my thumbnail cracked the egg slightly. I held it over her beautiful red hair, and pulled the two halves of the egg apart. As if in slow motion, the white and the yolk fell onto Emma's head, and slid down over her face and straight down between her breasts, taking a small piece of pie with them. A stain started to spread across her dress where the egg was soaking in. I quickly repeated the process with another three eggs, and then opened the bottle of strawberry syrup and squeezed it over her head as hard as I could. Emma was delighted, she had her eyes closed, a huge grin on her face, and I could see that her nipples were starting to stiffen against her dress. Not one to pass up an invitation, I moved the stream of syrup over her shoulder and down across her right breast, and was rewarded with a gentle moan from Emma. Again she cleaned her eyes, and then walked over to the bucket I had uncovered earlier.
Gesturing for me to join her, she dipped her gloved hand into the gloopy mixture. Her gloves were still almost clean, only a little cake & syrup on the tips of the fingers, but the rice pudding soon saw to that. Emma pulled her hand back out, cradling a little of the dessert in her hand. This she pushed into my face, and started to smear the stuff around. She repeated this a few times, and the sliky smooth feeling of the velvet combined with the slippery feeling of the rice pudding was driving me wild. Emma began to ladle double handfulls of rice pudding out of the bucket and into my pockets - the ones on the jacket first, and then the trouser pockets. I could feel the dampness as it seeped through the material, and I fidgeted, impatient to experience more.
But Emma re-covered the bucket, and led me back to the centre of the room. What would she have in store for me now?
END OF PART TWO