It's a birthday gift, I reminded myself as I stepped off the elevator and looked around for signage. I was looking for room 721. I went left and navigated about halfway down the geometric-patterned carpeted hallway.

I had been a lurker for many years on a website devoted to fans of getting messy really messy. Since I was a teenager, I'd found ways to experiment. Shaving cream and whipped cream pies to my own face, stuff like that. I'd always been too embarrassed to try to convince another person to join me, but I had always wanted it desperately. So when I saw a messy session offering from a traveling enthusiast, I decided it was time.

We sent a few emails back and forth, and had FaceTimed with each other a week ago. I told her what kind of substances I preferred or were willing to try, and what I would like the dynamic of the session to be. I told her what I had done on my own, and that I mostly wanted to not be the one deciding how it would go. I did tell her I wanted to use edible mess, and listed a few foods that I didn't like and would prefer she avoid. As for the dynamic, I said I wanted her to be in charge of what happened so that it was all a surprise to me, and that I was looking to keep things PG-13.

She said she knew just what I meant, and that I would not be disappointed. We agreed on a price that would include the cost of her hotel room and her time. She would give me a receipt for the supplies, which I would reimburse her for afterward.

Which brings me here, about to knock on the red door of room 712. I brushed my hair with one hand, took a deep breath, and knocked.

A few moments later, the door opened and I was greeted with a warm smile I recognized from our FaceTime.

"Welcome!" Emily opened the door all the way, and pressed herself against the wall to make room for me to enter. "Did you have any trouble finding the hotel?"

"Oh, no," I stammered. "I work just a few blocks away, so I knew exactly where it was."

"Great! Well," she looked around. "Uh, make yourself comfortable. How are you feeling?"

I glanced toward her, but had a hard time making eye contact because I was feeling very awkward. "I'm extremely nervous. Excited but terrified. This is far outside of my comfort zone." I leaned against the kitchenette counter.

Emily closed the door and locked it. "I get that." She put a hand on my shoulder. "I don't agree to do these unless the person passes my tests. I trust you enough to have you here, so you can trust me enough to not be too nervous. I've done this enough times to have a general idea of what's going through your head."

"Oh?" I asked.

She took a step back and articulated with her hands as she spoke. "Well, you've never done this with anyone else because you're afraid they'll say 'no' and make fun of you for it. I've already said 'yes', so there's no worries there.

"You feel awkward paying me to do this with you because you're a gentleman. Well, we already agreed on boundaries. This is something that I enjoy doing, and I figured out how to get paid to do something I enjoy. Nothing for you to feel awkward about."

I nodded. That was distressingly close to exactly how I felt but somehow didn't make me feel a lot better. I wasn't sure what to say so I looked around the room.

The far end of the room was blocked off by plastic sheeting hanging from the ceiling, beyond which I couldn't really see anything. A path of more sheeting ran from there back to the bathroom where we could shower. The air smelled of sugar and a music group I had mentioned that I liked was playing through a Bluetooth speaker.

"Why don't you go get changed and I'm going to get a few things finished up," Emily said, nodding toward the bathroom.

I nodded and stood, adjusting my backpack as I stepped toward the bathroom. I closed the door and set my bag on the counter. I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. My face was scarlett and I swore I could see my heart beating against my shirt.

She had told me to pack something to wear that I didn't mind throwing away, so I had brought an old t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that were a size too big. I changed and stuffed my regular clothes into the backpack, which I shoved under the vanity.

I did some breathing exercises to try to relax. Now that I was looking at it, it was a surprisingly large bathroom. She probably could have set everything up in here, but then there would've been no privacy to shower.

As I stepped toward the door, I heard Emily from outside. "Okay in there?"

I opened the door. "Yeah," I stepped out into the entryway. "I'm just trying to calm myself a bit."

"Relax with this," Emily said, and handed me a beer. I'm more of a wine person, honestly, but this was quite acceptable.

"Thanks," I said, finally able to look her in the face for more than a second. She was quite attractive, but not so attractive as to be scary to a regular guy like me. She was a bit short, made more noticeable by my own height, and had a round, tanned face framed by shoulder-length black hair. She had a petite nose, smallish mouth, big brown eyes behind thick-framed glasses. When I had walked into the hotel room, she had been wearing gray sweatpants and a white tank top, but she was now removing those to reveal plain white underwear that sat perfectly on her hips and was a bit tight on top.

I drank my beer quickly, needing something to do with my hands. Emily handed me another one since she was barely halfway through hers.

"So, I know we went over this in the emails, but I'll remind you of the rules," Emily said cheerfully. "As I already said, this is not a hookup, so there will be no sexual touching here. Otherwise, touching is generally fine and will be kind of unavoidable. Be a gentleman. If I feel unsafe I'm going to stop, and you're going to leave."

I nodded. "That's fair."

She drained the rest of her beer. "You're nervous, but we'll get past that quickly, I assure you. Follow me."

I was alarmed at how quickly this was happening. I set down my beer and followed. She walked around an opening in the plastic and held it open for me to follow. "You should take those off, if you can," she gestured to my glasses, and took off her own.

"Oh, yeah," I said. I took them off and threw them onto the nearest bed. I could see well enough without them.

"Also," she held a hand up before I could enter. "You're wearing a lot more than me. You put me in charge, so the first order of business is: undies."

Surely, my face was now purple. But I did as she asked and my gym shorts and t-shirt joined my glasses on the bed. I entered through the flap held open by Emily, sorely missing my pockets as my fingers fidgeted with the elastic of my boxer briefs.

Inside, Emily had set up an inflatable pool against the wall that was expertly covered in more plastic sheeting. Beyond the initial hanging sheet, every wall and surface was covered. Only the ceiling was bare with a hanging light fixture illuminating the arena. Inside and outside of the pool were buckets filled with various colored substances, at least a dozen fluffy-looking pies, a few cakes, and plastic bowls of pudding and Jell-O.

She stepped over the edge of the pool and tiptoed to the far end, where there was enough space for both of us to sit quite comfortably. I was in shock from the volume of supplies she had gotten, but then I remembered I would be paying for them soon enough. Emily was kneeling down to sit.

"Well, come on!" she waved me over.

I walked around the edge of the pool so that I could get in without having to dodge the pies and cakes, and sat cross-legged facing Emily. She smiled and reached over to put her hands on my knees.

"We're going to play a little icebreaker game, and then we'll really get started," she said, smiling at me. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat back up. "Grab two of those pies."

I had agreed to do whatever she said, and I was glad I did because I'm fairly sure that at that moment I would have just frozen, unsure what to do. I leaned over and slid one of the pies between us, and then another. They were much bigger and heavier than any I'd used by myself. I could now tell from the smell that they were made from Cool Whip. I looked back at Emily, awaiting instructions.

"The rules are very simple," she picked up the nearest pie. "I want you to look at me, stay very still, and count down from five out loud. No questions. Start counting."

Ho-ly shit. I was about to get pied by someone else for the first time. "Five." And by a beautiful half-naked woman, no less. Emily moved onto her knees. "Four. Three." The muscles in my neck tensed up, anticipating as she lifted the pie in both of her hands. "Two. One."

Emily smiled at me, and then pied herself in the face, slowly pressing until the filling oozed out and dripped down her chest. She lowered her hands and dropped the pie tin, giggling. She cleared her eyes and found me staring, chin sagging. I laughed from the sudden mix of relief and surprise.

Before I could compose myself, though, Emily had scooped up the second pie and threw it from where she was kneeling, splattering it against my chest.

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, and quickly reached over, scooping the pie remnants from my chest and smearing them on my face. "That was meant to land here"

She had been right: the nervousness melted away immediately. We were on hands and knees reaching for more pies. I got there first. She gave me a free shot and I smeared a pie down her back, eliciting a shriek. "Oh my God, that was cold!"

I feared I had upset her. "I'm sorry! I " she smashed a pie directly in my face, filling my open mouth with Cool Whip. I swallowed it and laughed. I couldn't see, but I immediately felt a second pie press into my lower back and get smeared up to my shoulder blades.

TO BE CONTINUED.