I had a really awesome experience today and wanted to share it -- unfortunately, no pics. I got together with my favorite gunge top who is also a great friend. We didn't have anything planned, other than the watch TV and chill before going to a post-holiday party being hosted by a mutual friend.
So my friend arrives around 2:30, and we quickly catch up about our holidays, then he turns to me and suddenly asks, "do you want to do some gunge before we go to the party?"
My eyes lit up. Did I? Absolutely! We went into my bedroom so he could look at my supplies. He selected a back of cake batter, a can of frosting, and some shaving cream.
We spent the next half hour getting ready. Putting down a plastic tarp. Mixing the cake batter with water and oil, trying to get a nice smooth but thick consistency. Setting the lights right, turning on the music.
"When was the last time your back was shaved?" he asked. When I confessed it was too long -- at least 5 months, maybe longer -- he had me get out my electric buzzer so he could fix that.
I knelt on the floor, my back to him, and removed my shirt. The buzzer felt magical running up and down my back, making me even more naked before him than usual. When he was satisfied, he put down the electric razor. "Get a spatula from the kitchen," he said, then leaned back to watch the TV. I jumped up and went into the kitchen, and when I returned, he had lit a cigar.
I handed him the plastic spatula, as well as the wooden spoon I had grabbed while I was in there. "You might like this," I said, as I handed it to him. He grasped it, looked into my eyes, and smiled. "Yes, we might," he said and he pulled it from my hands.
He had laid out a plastic tarp all over the room, and put a towel not he floor right in front of where he sat on the couch. He nodded, and watched as I sat down on the floor, naked, and got comfortable between his booted legs.
He lit his cigar while I relaxed, enjoying the scent of his boots, of his jeans, of his cigar. A few minutes later, I noticed the open can of frosting sitting on the table next to him.
"You look good, boy," he said, as he lifted the can and plunged the spatula into it, "but I think you'd look better like this." The spatula, covered in frosting, lifted from the can, dangled over my head, the splattered on my crotch. It was cold, and he slowly spread it around my crotch, coating my cock and balls, my thighs, and the tops and sides of my legs.
it was also white, and smelled of vanilla. As it warmed to the temperature of my skin, I relaxed deeper. It felt so comforting. It even smelled comforting. "Thank you, daddy," I said.
"How's that feel, boy?" he said, puffing on the cigar and reloading the spatula with more frosting.
"I love it. I feels like you're putting me in a frosting diaper, daddy!"

-- to be continued