The hotel bar was elegant but relaxed, with low lighting that created small pools of intimacy around each table. Rebecca sat at the corner of the bar, nursing a gin and tonic while half-heartedly scrolling through her phone. She was in town for a conference on digital marketing, and though the day's sessions had been interesting, she was hoping the evening might hold something more memorable.

At thirty-four, Rebecca cut a striking figure. Her wavy auburn hair fell just past her shoulders, framing a face with high cheekbones and expressive hazel eyes that shifted between green and gold depending on the light. She stood at five-foot-seven with an athletic build--toned from her regular swimming regimen but with soft curves in all the right places. Tonight she wore a forest green wrap dress that complemented her fair skin and hugged her figure without being overly suggestive.

She was so engrossed in an article that she didn't notice when someone took the seat beside her until he spoke.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

Rebecca looked up to find herself staring into the most intensely blue eyes she'd ever seen. They belonged to a man about her age, maybe a few years older, with dark hair threaded with silver at the temples and a jawline that could cut glass. He wore a well-fitted navy suit with no tie, the top button of his light blue shirt undone in casual elegance.

"It's all yours," she replied, offering a warm smile.

"I'm Daniel," he said, extending his hand.

"Rebecca," she responded, shaking it firmly.

The conversation flowed easily from there. Daniel was also in town for a conference--architectural design, in his case--and they discovered they were both from the Midwest but now lived on opposite coasts. What had started as casual bar chat quickly evolved into something deeper as they discovered shared tastes in music, films, and a particular love of classic comedy.

"I grew up watching all those old slapstick films with my dad," Daniel confessed, his blue eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "Laurel and Hardy, The Three Stooges, Charlie Chaplin--the works."

Rebecca felt a flutter of excitement. "Me too! My grandmother had this amazing collection of old comedy reels. I'd spend weekends at her house, and we'd watch them together on her projector."

"Any favorites?" Daniel asked, taking a sip of his bourbon.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment, suddenly feeling a familiar blend of vulnerability and excitement. "It's going to sound silly," she hedged.

"I promise not to judge," Daniel said, his expression open and genuinely interested.

"I always loved the pie fight scenes," Rebecca admitted, watching his face carefully for a reaction. "There was something about them that I found captivating."

To her surprise, Daniel's face lit up. "The pie fights were the best part!" he exclaimed. "The anticipation, the execution, the aftermath--pure comedy gold."

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! It's visual storytelling at its finest. The build-up, the tension, and then" she mimicked an explosion with her hands, "chaos!"

Daniel leaned in slightly. "Can I ask you something a bit personal?"

Rebecca felt a tingle of anticipation. "Sure."

"Did you ever find yourself particularly interested in those scenes? More than just for the comedy aspect?"

The world around them seemed to fade as Rebecca realized what he might be asking. She took a deep breath. "Yes," she said simply. "I did. I still do."

Daniel's eyes widened slightly, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Me too," he confessed. "I thought I was the only one."

Just like that, the floodgates opened. What had been a pleasant conversation transformed into an electric exchange of long-held secrets and desires.

"When did you first realize it was more than just enjoying comedy?" Daniel asked, his voice lower now.

Rebecca thought for a moment. "I was about nineteen. I was at a carnival, and they had one of those pie-throwing booths to raise money for charity. The person being targeted was this gorgeous lifeguard from the local pool--he was volunteering, totally game for it. I paid for three throws."

"And?" Daniel prompted when she paused.

"I missed the first two on purpose," Rebecca admitted with a sly smile. "But the third one I hit him square in the face with a huge cream pie. The way it just enveloped him, dripping down his face, into his hair" She felt her cheeks flush. "I had to leave immediately. I was so flustered I could barely speak."

Daniel nodded in understanding. "For me, it was in college. Drama department fundraiser, similar setup. I was behind the scenes, making the pies. This senior drama major, Sarah, was in the seat. She was stunning--tall, blonde, confident--and completely unfazed by getting hit with pie after pie. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying it more than anyone else."

"What happened?" Rebecca asked, completely engrossed.

"After it was over, she came backstage to clean up. We got to talking, and she admitted she'd volunteered specifically because she loved the feeling of getting pied. One thing led to another, and we ended up back at her apartment"

"With pies?" Rebecca guessed, her pulse quickening.

Daniel nodded, looking both embarrassed and excited by the memory. "With pies. It was enlightening."

"What is it about it that does it for you?" Rebecca asked, genuinely curious. "For me, there's something about the performance of it all. The anticipation, the moment of impact, the surrender to the experience."

"Yes, exactly!" Daniel agreed enthusiastically. "It's theatrical but also deeply intimate. There's vulnerability in letting someone pie you--you're completely at their mercy for that moment. And when you're the one throwing the pie, there's this rush of power, but also tenderness, especially if it's someone you care about."

Rebecca nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief and excitement at finally discussing this with someone who understood. "And the physical sensation is incredible," she added. "The coolness, the texture, the weight of it--all your senses are engaged."

"Do you prefer to be on the receiving end or the giving end?" Daniel asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Both, honestly," Rebecca replied without hesitation. "There's something uniquely thrilling about each role. What about you?"

"Same," Daniel said. "Though if I had to choose, I might lean slightly toward being the recipient. There's something about surrendering to it completely that I find incredibly freeing."

"I understand that completely," Rebecca said. "It's like momentarily letting go of all control, all pretense. Just pure sensation and reaction."

She hesitated for a moment before adding, "And for me, it has to be while I'm naked. I can't imagine getting pied with clothes on. It would ruin the whole experience."

Daniel's eyes lit up with recognition. "Yes! Exactly! The clothes just get in the way of the full sensory experience. The feeling of cool cream sliding down bare skin is" he trailed off, clearly lost in a pleasant memory.

"Essential," Rebecca finished for him. "I have this personal rule--if I'm getting naked with someone, pies need to be involved. And if pies are involved, clothes have to come off."

"Naked people get pied," Daniel said with a knowing smile.

Rebecca's jaw dropped slightly. "That's that's exactly what I always say! 'Naked people get pied.' It's like my personal motto."

"Mine too," Daniel admitted, looking both surprised and delighted at this additional layer of compatibility. "I've tried explaining it to people before, but they just don't get it. Why would anyone want to get pied with clothes on? It defeats the whole purpose."

"Right?" Rebecca leaned forward eagerly. "The mess is part of the point. Feeling it everywhere, having it slide down your body in unexpected ways. Plus, the cleanup is half the fun when you're both naked and covered in cream."

Daniel hesitated for a moment, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "I have this thing it's a bit embarrassing to admit."

"Tell me," Rebecca encouraged, intrigued by his sudden shyness.

"Whenever I'm naked and aroused," he began, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of vulnerability and excitement, "I feel this overwhelming urge to get pied. Like my body is practically begging for it. Especially first thing in the morning, you know, with morning wood--I just want to walk into the kitchen and have someone waiting with a huge pie ready to nail me."

Rebecca's breath caught, a wave of heat washing over her. "That is possibly the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Really?" Daniel looked both relieved and pleased.

"God, yes," Rebecca said emphatically. "The image of you, just walking around naked and hard, completely comfortable in your skin, and then getting surprised with a pie" She shook her head slightly. "I can't even tell you how arousing that is."

Daniel's eyes darkened. "Most mornings I wake up hard, and I just feel so good, so primed for sensation. And all I can think about is how amazing it would feel to have cool, thick cream hit my face while I'm in that state."

Rebecca bit her lip. "I've always had this fantasy of a naked man with an erection just casually walking around, completely natural, and me just waiting for the perfect moment to pie the hell out of him. Just seeing him hard and confident and then watching his expression change to shock and pleasure when the pie hits"

"That's exactly it," Daniel said with genuine excitement. "When I'm aroused, every sensation is heightened. Getting pied in that state is just indescribable."

"How often does this happen to you?" Rebecca asked, genuinely curious.

Daniel laughed softly. "Pretty much every morning. And anytime I'm naked, to be honest. It's like my body has been conditioned--nakedness leads to arousal leads to wanting to get pied."

"That is incredibly hot," Rebecca repeated, shifting slightly in her seat. "Just hearing you talk about casual nudity and walking around hard is doing things to me."

Their conversation continued, diving deeper into their shared interest. They discussed their favorite types of pies for such activities, and Rebecca was delighted to discover they had similar preferences.

"Bigger is always better," Daniel stated. "Those enormous cream pies with the whipped cream piled ridiculously high--they're visually stunning and create the most spectacular impact."

"Absolutely," Rebecca agreed fervently. "And the consistency is crucial. Marshmallow meringue pies are my favorite--that sticky, gooey texture that clings to everything and takes forever to clean off."

"Yes!" Daniel exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly, causing a couple at a nearby table to glance over. He lowered his voice. "The stickier and messier, the better. It's like the level of mess directly correlates to the level of" he searched for the right word.

"Intimacy," Rebecca supplied. "The messier it is, the more intimate the experience."

"Exactly. It's like the pie is a physical manifestation of how much attention and care you're putting into the moment. A bigger, gooier pie means more thought, more preparation, more"

"Affection," Rebecca finished for him. "It's a very unique love language."

They both laughed at that, the tension between them growing more palpable by the minute.

"Have you ever incorporated it into, you know, more intimate settings?" Daniel asked cautiously.

Rebecca nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "A few times. It's not exactly something I advertise on first dates, though. It tends to come up organically, if at all."

"I know what you mean," Daniel said. "I've only shared it with two partners, and both times it was after months of dating. It's vulnerable to admit to something so specific."

"And logistically complicated," Rebecca added with a laugh. "The cleanup alone is a commitment."

Daniel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Worth it, though."

"Absolutely worth it," Rebecca agreed emphatically. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "And I've never experienced anything quite as intense, sexually speaking. There's something about the combination of vulnerability, sensation, and playfulness that just"

"Takes everything to another level," Daniel finished, nodding enthusiastically. "Every time I've done it--every single time--it's led to the most incredible sex. It's like the pie play breaks down all barriers and inhibitions."

"Exactly!" Rebecca exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loudly. She lowered her voice, leaning in closer. "It's as if once you're covered in pie, completely exposed and vulnerable, there's nothing left to hide. It creates this space of total freedom."

"And the contrast of sensations," Daniel added, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Going from the cool cream to the heat of someone else's body" He shook his head slightly. "It's indescribable."

Rebecca nodded, a flush creeping up her neck that had nothing to do with the gin and tonic. "For me, getting naked with someone has become synonymous with pie play. I can't separate them anymore. If I'm going to be nude with someone, I want to either pie them or be pied--preferably both."

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Daniel said with a look of genuine admiration. After a brief pause, he asked, "How many pies is your ideal session? I'm curious if we align there too."

Rebecca considered the question carefully. "Honestly? I don't think there's such a thing as too many. But if I had to put a number on it at least three or four to really get into it. The first pie breaks the ice, but it's the second and third that really let you surrender to the experience."

"That's exactly my thinking," Daniel said, looking increasingly amazed at their compatibility. "Though my fantasy has always been to experience a truly excessive number--like ten or twelve in one session."

Rebecca's eyes widened. "That's ambitious. And incredibly hot. The thought of being so thoroughly covered that there's barely any skin visible beneath all that cream and meringue" She shivered slightly.

"Exactly," Daniel agreed eagerly. "Complete and total immersion in the experience. No holding back."

"My record is seven," Rebecca admitted. "And even that was overwhelming--in the best possible way. By the fifth pie, I was in this almost transcendent state where each new impact just sent me deeper into sensation."

Daniel leaned forward, completely engrossed. "Seven is impressive. My personal record is only five. What was the seventh like?"

"Honestly? I could barely process it by that point," Rebecca said with a small laugh. "I was so covered, so completely lost in the experience that it was like sensory overload. Pure bliss."

"That's the dream," Daniel said reverently. "Complete sensory overload."

There was a moment of charged silence between them, the implications of their conversation hanging in the air.

"I have a confession," Daniel said finally. "I actually brought some supplies with me on this trip. Force of habit when I travel--always be prepared, just in case."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips. "What kind of supplies?"

"Nothing elaborate. Just some paper plates, cool whip, and a few packets of instant pudding mix. Enough to create something satisfying if the opportunity arose."

Rebecca felt a thrill run through her. "And has the opportunity arisen on previous trips?"

Daniel shook his head. "Not yet. But I'm an optimist."

Another silence fell between them, this one heavy with possibility.

"I have a room upstairs," Rebecca said finally, surprising herself with her boldness. "And I happen to think your optimism should be rewarded."

Daniel's eyes darkened slightly. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that we're two consenting adults who have discovered a remarkably specific shared interest. It seems wasteful not to explore that compatibility further, don't you think?"

Daniel grinned, signaling to the bartender for the check. "I couldn't agree more."

"I should mention," Rebecca added as they waited for the check, "I actually bought a couple of marshmallow meringue pies earlier today. Pure coincidence--or maybe subconscious hope--but they're in my room. Two absolutely massive ones from that bakery down the street."

Daniel's eyes widened. "You're kidding. That's perfect."

"I know," Rebecca said with a grin. "The universe wanted this to happen."

Thirty minutes later, they entered Rebecca's hotel room, both slightly breathless with anticipation. Daniel carried a small duffel bag containing his "supplies," which turned out to be more extensive than he'd initially let on.

"I may have understated things slightly," he admitted as he unpacked several containers of Cool Whip, packages of instant pudding in various flavors, plastic mixing bowls, and a stack of sturdy paper plates. "I like to be thorough."

"I appreciate thoroughness," Rebecca said, already slipping off her heels and moving to close the curtains. The room was spacious, with a king-sized bed and a separate sitting area. Most importantly, the bathroom had a large walk-in shower that would make cleanup manageable.

She walked to the mini-fridge and opened it to reveal two enormous marshmallow meringue pies, their peaks rising at least six inches above the pie tins. "What do you think?" she asked, gesturing toward them.

"They're magnificent," Daniel said, genuine awe in his voice. "Professional quality. Those are going to make a spectacular mess."

They moved around each other with a combination of excitement and nervousness, preparing the space and themselves. By mutual agreement, they decided to start slowly--getting to know each other's bodies and boundaries before introducing the messier elements.

Rebecca felt a delicious flutter of anticipation as she began to undress. She took her time, enjoying the way Daniel's eyes followed her movements. When she finally stood before him completely nude, she felt a surge of confidence at his clear appreciation.

Rebecca's body was a perfect blend of athletic and feminine. Her waist curved in dramatically before flaring out to shapely hips, creating a classic hourglass figure that was accentuated by her toned stomach. Her breasts were larger than one might expect from her athletic frame--full, round, and remarkably perky, with small, pink nipples that had already hardened from anticipation. Her skin was creamy and smooth, lightly freckled across her shoulders from her outdoor activities.

Daniel's gaze was appreciative but respectful as he took in the sight of her. "You're stunning," he said simply, his voice slightly husky.

"Your turn," Rebecca urged, eager to see if the rest of him matched the promising parts she'd already observed.

Daniel didn't need to be asked twice. He removed his clothes with efficient movements, revealing a body that clearly reflected his active lifestyle. His shoulders were broad and muscular, tapering to a narrow waist and defined abs. His legs were strong and well-shaped, and when he finally removed his boxers, Rebecca couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath.

Daniel's arousal was evident, his penis perfectly proportioned to his body--not intimidatingly large but impressively substantial, with a pleasing shape that Rebecca found herself instinctively responding to. As she watched, it seemed to grow even harder under her appreciative gaze.

"You are gorgeous," she said candidly, making no attempt to hide how much his body appealed to her. "Especially that," she added with a deliberate glance downward. "It's absolutely perfect."

Daniel smiled, a flush of pleasure spreading across his chest at her approval. "Thank you," he said, his voice deeper than before. "I can't tell you how much I want you right now."

"I think I have some idea," Rebecca replied with a smile, deliberately looking at his erection again. "And the feeling is very mutual."

The initial awkwardness quickly dissolved as they discovered a natural physical chemistry that matched their conversational connection. They took their time exploring each other's bodies with gentle hands and attentive mouths, building a foundation of trust and mutual pleasure.

When they finally decided to incorporate their shared interest, Rebecca had an idea. "You know what would make this even better?" she asked, running her fingers lightly down Daniel's chest.

"What's that?"

"A little role-play," she suggested. "A classic pie-in-the-face scenario."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "That would be perfect. Any particular scene in mind?"

Rebecca thought for a moment. "How about the classic interview gone wrong? I'll be the serious journalist, you be the subject who's had enough of my probing questions."

"I love it," Daniel agreed enthusiastically. "The performance aspect is such a huge part of what makes this erotic for me."

"Me too," Rebecca confessed. "The anticipation, the playing of roles, the moment when the pie finally hits it's theatrical in the best possible way."

They quickly arranged the room to suit their scenario. Rebecca sat in the desk chair, affecting a serious expression despite being completely nude. Daniel stood a few feet away, one of the marshmallow meringue pies hidden behind his back.

"So, Mr. Johnson," Rebecca began in a formal tone that contrasted deliciously with her naked state, "how do you respond to allegations that your company has been cutting corners on safety regulations?"

Daniel feigned irritation, shifting his weight from one foot to another, his erection bobbing slightly with the movement. "I've told you repeatedly that those allegations are completely unfounded."

"But our sources suggest otherwise," Rebecca pressed, leaning forward slightly, her breasts swaying with the movement. "In fact, we have documents that indicate--"

"I've had enough of these baseless accusations!" Daniel interrupted, bringing the pie out from behind his back.

Rebecca's eyes widened in feigned surprise. "Mr. Johnson, what are you doing with that pie?"

"Something I should have done at the start of this interview," Daniel replied, advancing toward her with theatrical menace.

Rebecca raised her hands in mock protest. "Now, Mr. Johnson, let's be reasonable--"

Daniel didn't let her finish. With perfect dramatic timing, he thrust the marshmallow meringue pie directly into her face. The impact was spectacular--the sticky, gooey meringue completely engulfed her face and much of her head. It clung to her hair, her ears, and her neck in thick, gooey strands that stretched when he pulled away the tin.

Rebecca gasped, the cool sensation overwhelming her senses. She remained in character for a moment longer, sputtering, "Well, I never--" before breaking into laughter, the sticky meringue wobbling with her movements.

The sight of her--naked, covered in meringue, and laughing with pure joy--made Daniel's arousal even more pronounced. Rebecca noticed, and as she wiped some of the meringue from her eyes, she said in a husky voice, "Your turn now."

She rose from the chair, retrieving the second marshmallow meringue pie from the mini-fridge. "I think we need a different scenario for this one," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief beneath the layer of meringue still covering much of her face.

"What did you have in mind?" Daniel asked, clearly eager to experience the sensation that had her looking so blissfully happy.

"How about the classic 'surprise pie'?" Rebecca suggested. "You turn around, I'll hide, and when you turn back, I'll jump out and get you."

Daniel nodded eagerly, turning his back to her. Rebecca took a moment to appreciate the view--his broad shoulders, the defined muscles of his back tapering to a narrow waist, and his perfectly shaped buttocks. Even from behind, he was magnificent.

She moved quietly to the side of the room, positioning herself with the pie held ready. "Okay, you can turn around now," she called.

Daniel turned slowly, pretending not to know what was coming. He made a show of looking around the room. "Rebecca? Where did you--"

"Surprise!" she exclaimed, leaping forward and thrusting the marshmallow meringue pie directly into his face with impressive force. The impact was even more spectacular than when he'd pied her, perhaps because of the enthusiasm behind her delivery.

The sticky, gooey meringue completely engulfed his head, clinging to his hair and ears in thick globs. When Rebecca pulled away the tin, Daniel's entire face was obscured beneath a mountain of white fluff, with only his mouth visible, curled into a broad smile of pure pleasure.

When they finally moved to incorporate their shared interest, it felt like a natural progression rather than a jarring shift. Daniel had prepared several "pies" using the hotel room's small desk as a workstation--some were simply whipped cream piled high on paper plates, while others incorporated pudding mixtures for different consistencies and flavors.

"Ladies first," he said with a gallant gesture, presenting her with a choice of his creations. "Would you prefer to receive or deliver?"

Rebecca considered for a moment. "Deliver," she decided. "I want to see your face when it hits you."

Daniel's eyes lit up with excitement. He sat on the edge of the bed, completely nude and visibly aroused by what was about to happen. "I'm all yours," he said, spreading his arms in a gesture of surrender.

Rebecca selected a plate topped with an impressive mound of whipped cream, enhanced with vanilla pudding for extra weight and stickiness. She approached him slowly, enjoying the moment of anticipation.

"Any last words?" she teased, holding the pie inches from his face.

Daniel's blue eyes locked with hers, filled with trust and desire. "Make it count," he said with a challenging smile.

Rebecca didn't hesitate. She thrust the pie forward with perfect aim, connecting solidly with his face. The impact was spectacular--whipped cream and pudding exploded outward in a white starburst, completely engulfing his face and splattering his hair, shoulders, and chest with sweet debris.

When she pulled the plate away, Daniel's face was completely obscured by a thick mask of white, with only his mouth visible, curled into a broad smile. He gasped, a sound that was part shock and part pleasure, and Rebecca felt a surge of arousal so intense it took her breath away.

"Oh my god," she whispered, watching as globs of cream slid down his neck and chest in thick rivulets.

Daniel wiped just enough cream from his eyes to see her, his gaze intense despite the ridiculous state of his face. "That," he said with feeling, "was perfect."

Rebecca couldn't help herself--she leaned in and kissed him, tasting sweet vanilla as their lips met. The kiss quickly deepened, both of them aroused by the messy intimacy of the moment.

When they finally broke apart, Daniel reached for one of his creations--this one a marshmallow fluff concoction that looked impossibly sticky. "My turn," he said, his voice husky with desire.

Rebecca nodded eagerly, closing her eyes and tilting her face upward in offering. She heard Daniel's breath catch, felt him move closer, and then--

SPLAT!

The impact was even more dramatic than she'd anticipated. The cool, gooey mixture enveloped her face completely, sliding into her hair and down her neck in thick, sticky rivers. The sensation was overwhelming--the weight, the texture, the sudden shift from one sensory experience to another. She gasped as she felt it sliding between her breasts and down her torso.

When she managed to clear her eyes, she found Daniel watching her with undisguised desire. "You're beautiful," he said with complete sincerity, despite--or perhaps because of--the ridiculous state of her face.

What followed was a joyfully messy exploration of their shared fantasy. They took turns covering each other with increasingly elaborate creations, each "pie" delivered with more enthusiasm than the last. They discovered the unique pleasures of kissing through layers of whipped cream, of tracing patterns through the sweet mess on each other's bodies, of the contrast between the cool confections and their increasingly heated skin.

By the time they'd exhausted Daniel's supplies, they were both completely covered from head to toe in a sticky, sweet mixture of whipped cream, pudding, and marshmallow fluff. The bed was a disaster zone, but neither of them cared as they fell onto it together, sliding against each other in slippery, sweet abandon.

Their lovemaking was uninhibited and joyful, punctuated by laughter as they slipped and slid against each other in their sugar-coated state. The physical sensations were unlike anything either had experienced before--every touch amplified by the slick, sweet medium between their bodies.

Afterward, they lay together in the ruined bed, breathing heavily and grinning like fools, their bodies still coated in patches of sweet, sticky residue.

"That," Daniel declared, "was worth waiting for."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, too satisfied to form words immediately. When she finally spoke, it was with conviction. "We're definitely going to need more supplies for tomorrow."

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, his hair sticking up in sweetened spikes. "Tomorrow? You're assuming I'll be invited back?"

Rebecca laughed, running a finger through a streak of cream on his chest. "Oh, I think you can count on it. After all, we still have at least a dozen fantasies to work through, based on our conversation."

"True," Daniel agreed, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. "And I never leave a pie unflung."

"Our motto holds true," Rebecca said with a satisfied sigh. "Naked people get pied, and pied people have mind-blowing sex."

Daniel laughed, pulling her closer despite their sticky state. "I can't believe I found someone who not only shares my specific interest but also understands the absolute necessity of nudity for proper pie play. Do you know how many times I've tried to explain that to people?"

"Too many, I'm sure," Rebecca commiserated. "People always ask why you can't just wear old clothes, but it completely misses the point. The feeling of cream sliding down bare skin, the vulnerability of being completely exposed when that pie hits your face" She shivered pleasurably at the memory.

"And the way it always, inevitably leads to the best sex imaginable," Daniel added, tracing a pattern through a remaining patch of whipped cream on her hip. "I've never experienced pie play that didn't end with incredible sex. It's like a law of nature."

"Naked people get pied, and pied people get--"

"Exactly," Daniel cut her off with a laugh, kissing her again.

As they finally made their way to the shower to begin the lengthy cleanup process, Rebecca couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn her evening had taken. What had started as a casual conversation had evolved into something extraordinary--a chance to share her most private desires with someone who not only understood but enthusiastically participated in them, who shared her conviction that nudity was an essential component of proper pie play, and who recognized the inevitable and powerful connection between pie play and fantastic sex.

Whatever happened next, she knew one thing for certain: hotel room service was going to receive a very unusual request for whipped cream in the morning.