This is my first attempt at creative writing on here.. I wrote it last night because I couldn't sleep and was feeling turned on, so decided this might be a fun outlet for my feelings.
If the woman I describe in this story exists can she please message me as she is my dream splosh partner!!



It is noon on the hottest day of summer and I am in Sainsbury's. The heat outside is almost unbearable and I am a hot mess, literally; the edges of my hair sticking to my moist, make-up free face, my skin flushed and my linen slip-dress sticking to the perspiration on my back and thighs. My clothes feel too tight for me; I feel fleshy and swollen in the heat, like an unpicked peach left to ripen too long on the tree. I feel the satin cups of my bra too-tight around my breasts and yearn for a naked dip in a cool pool.
I also feel unmistakably, intensely, maybe preposterously sexual; actually tingling with arousal. This is my body's response to the temperature; and to the fact that it has been a month since I had sex. I feel like a creature in heat.

I am in such a daze of desire that I barely notice the path I take to the dairy aisle, but once there I find the chill of the air heavenly. I linger deliberately over trifles and cheesecakes, gateaux and mousses, picking up, putting down, teasing myself and letting my mind wander..I am lost in a sweet world of sensation, texture and scent, almost oblivious to the world around me, until I feel the brush of warm skin against my bare arm. My reverie broken and slightly startled, I see the woman: the big, buxom, busty beautiful woman, leaning past me for a selection pack of cream cakes, which she tears open, seemingly unaware of my presence. I watch in unabashed admiration as she removes a custard slice from the pack and proceeds to lick the thick cream from between the pastry layers with her small, pink tongue. She continues to eat, quite unselfconsciously, while moving away from me to peruse the fresh custard and cream cartons further up the aisle.

I devour the woman with my eyes. She is as big as I am, but her bottom and breasts are very considerably larger and her hips roll as she walks. She wears a modest, navy dress, but the way her flesh strains against the fabric makes it saucy, like a barmaid. Her make-up, lips and lashes are all thickly applied, her artificial nails painted scarlet and her hair a deep bottle-red. Everything about her is cheap and synthetic, yet she moves with the grace of a panther and oozes sex; at least it seems that way to me.

I begin to fill my trolley with weekend essentials, a dozen chocolate trifles, three black forest gateaux and some multi-packs of strawberry mousse. I also need squirty cream, which is a perfect excuse to move my trolley next to hers, and as I do so, I catch her fragrance; a mix of vanilla perfume, face-powder and custard, like a freshly baked sponge cake. She is still eating and suddenly without knowing I'm going to do it, I remark,
'Lucky custard slice',
She turns and looks at me, her brightly painted lips parted in a smile. She replies, eyeing my trolley with interest,
'Looks like we both have a sweet tooth.'

And I can't help but wonder if I'm right in thinking that her words are laden with meaning? Does she watch me as I begin to stack the cans of cream among my other purchases? Does she suspect the reason behind my stockpiling of all that is sweet, sticky, creamy, sloppy and sumptuous? Does she in fact share my desire to be submerged in a vat of custard, chocolate and warm caramel sauce?
'If you need any help with that lot let me know', she adds with a wink.

And then I know that she knows.

And in another life, I catch her arm before she walks away.

And I put my finger to her lips where a trace of cream remains, then lick it from my fingers. I whisper to her that she should meet me at the hotel next door and she says yes, with no hesitation at all. Thirty minutes later and she is undressing in the bedroom while I prepare. My heart is racing in desire as I slop cartons of custard into the big corner bath and open boxes containing desserts, cakes and trifles. The air is thick with the scent of creamy sweetness, a scent which I have come to associate with pure erotic pleasure.

The door opens and I see her, a towel barely covering her huge soft boobs and stomach, but I am still clothed. I feel an ache of desire and can't contain myself any longer, so I tell her to get into the bath and watch hungrily as she lowers herself into the vat of custard. She cups her breasts in her hands as though to keep them from dipping into the mess, and I feel an almost unbearable tingle in my clit; only just managing to resist the temptation to start rubbing myself.

I want to trash her.

I want to mess her up so badly.

I scoop handfuls of trifle and smoosh them into her face, hearing her gasp in surprise. She wipes cream from her eyes and I see her make-up and mascara start to stream.
I grab two cartons of thick, gloopy custard and begin to pour them over her head and I watch as the glossy goop slops down over her hair to her breasts.
My desire and want for her reaches a new level of intensity; I tear off my dress and bra, then climb into the bath grabbing the back of her hair and kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, licking her, sucking mouthfuls of custard from her big nipples and then kissing her mouth again. I press my body against hers, feeling the delicious sensation of our ample bosoms and stomachs sliding against one another in all the creamy mess.
I'm lost, on my way to complete ecstasy as I feel her hand slipping between my legs and pressing the first orgasm out of me in seconds. I cry out in complete carnal pleasure as the waves overwhelm me.

I tell her I want to taste her and I make her get up on all fours with her glorious big ass in my face. I take cans of cream and squirt them all over her ass and thighs, then I bury my face between her buttocks, feeling my pussy start to ache again at the sensation of the cold cream enveloping me. I begin to tongue her wet slit from ass to pussy then back again, swallowing mouthfuls of soft cream and tasting her musky sweetness underneath, then I start rimming her, tongue deep in her tight asshole while I finger her soaking pussy till she starts to moan. I realise that I've found her g-spot when I feel a warm gush against my face and hear her crying out as she cums. She tastes of pure sex.

We end up on the floor of the bathroom, beyond caring about the mess or damage, focussed only on the sensations of our bodies as we roll around in the chocolatey, creamy slop. I cum so many times I lose count, but the last time is after dumping a cream sponge over her head, I sit on her face, grinding my pussy down and around on her till I'm completely aching and spent.
I collapse next to her and we just laugh at nothing, delirious with pleasure perhaps?

But all of that is in that other life.

In this life, I am leaving Sainsburys, the woman presumably having gone on her way.

I feel a tap on my arm. It's her and she is holding something out to me.
'I thought you might fancy one?' she says, as she gives me the half-eaten box of custard slices and walks away.
I watch her go, then see the lipstick scrawl across the top of the box. It is her phone number.

I retrieve my phone from my bag and feel my clit begin to tingle..