It was late 2017. Ann texted me an address in an industrial section of Philadelphia. (Which is to say: it was in Philadelphia.) A large warehouse looking place, with a thousand doors and rooms -- what looked to be an old cotton mill. I saw her car and approached the nearest door with a buzzer.

Over the intercom, her voice came, cold and professional: "Who is it?"

"Ann. Of course, you would send me to the ol' warehouse pie depot."

"Nein!" her voice suddenly sounded warm and bouncy. "Yes -- close, very close." The massive steel door opened, and Ann appeared in a white apron. Behold: 5'4. Spitfire. Knockout, TKO like. Beneath the apron, I spotted that she was in lacey black undergarments.

Same old Ann. Hadn't seen her since Vegas, a few months back. I remembered that episode fondly, as I was still cleaning caramel from... places.

She spoke: "Hey! Glad you could make it! Welcome to my night job!"

"Mysteries revealed!" I say because 'smart-ass' is how I roll. We're inside now, walking and talking, like in an Aaron Sorkin show.

Ann now: "I work in a commercial bakery, obvs." We walk down a hall with offices on each side until we get to a cavernous kitchen. "I'm responsible for the whipped topping among other things. Pie filling... let's see.. what else... I don't know. It depends!" She shrugged. "Pardon my attire, too. I usually just wear a thong while I work."

"Of course, dollface. You're living up to all my dreams," I say. "Or down to them, depending on your way of looking at it."

"Ha! I'm sure I am!", she said. "Anyway, since you were visiting, I put on the apron. And underwear."

"Only the most hygienic panties will do," I nod.

"I usually prefer a thong," she said, quickly, in mid-Atlantic quick snap banter.

"I'd only try a thong if I were brave," I say.

"I don't think it'd look good on you," she says, prissily. "So you want the tour or do you want to just provide commentary?"

"I'm strictly against false dichotomies. I can do two things. It's my superpower."

"Ugh. ANYWAY. Where was I? Oh, yes. Thong. Trust me. Drop one pie on the floor and BAM! Jeans are done. It's easier to just pop into the shower. And hygienic? Yes, of course, it is," she said.

"Can't have stray pubes in the pastries," I said.

"Yeah, not likely -- at least not from me. Smooth as silk, you know me!"

"Ah, well. I know you very well, after that night in Vegas," I said, wiggling my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I was gonna say. I'm sure you noticed the scenery --" she started, and then cut herself off as she noticed my eyes were preoccupied in doing inventory on her many wonderful parts, assembled into a wonderful adorable whole. "--AHEM!"

"Hmm? Oh, hm. Sorry, yeah, right, male gaze. I was... just appreciating your *assets*. I have serious worries you might be going into *arrears*."

"Uh-huh... arrears, I has 'em. You should see me when I work in here nearly naked. It's a sight," she said.

"I just made a mental note of that. Now lead on, good woman. I've seen you naked. I don't think I've ever seen you *working* though," I said, ever the shmuck.

She didn't bite. "Huh. That's true. Well over here, I make pies. Fill the shell with something good, top it with loads of whipped topping, and store it over here... Along this wall, where we have tables and tables of inventory. Over there, the vat where I mix up the non-dairy whipped topping. I use a ton of sweetener and vanilla and make it supremely thick and gooey. Because I like it that way, basically."

"Tell me about it," I say, respectfully. "Those Twinkies don't make themselves."

Because she's a smart girl, she ignored me and continued. "Here... vanilla fondant. It is quite pliable and soft at room temperature, makes a great starter for a pie. Load that in, then a layer of strawberries, then the cream topping. And speaking of Twinkies, that there is a vat of pastry cream. Pastry cream is like thick white custard. Now that is great with strawberries also, but banana and coconut cream work as well..."

At this point, to show that I'm taking an interest, I take out a pencil and jab it into what looks like a cushion on the conveyor belt. It turns out to be a cake and is now a cake with a hole in it. "Ooops," I said, because I belong in MENSA.

"That's a cake, dear."

While she continued talking, I nodded along and tried to hide the mistake. "Right, right. Interesting, interesting," I said, putting a piece of chocolate in the hole in the cake and scampering away.

She scowled but continued unabated. "Caramel jet here... chocolate jet here... and.. a vat of marshmallow. Lastly, a vat of white chocolate "concrete"... it's a dip that we use to make cakes stick in layers."

"Wait, you have your own caramel jet?"

"We have our own caramel jet! More like a wide hose honestly. Various settings. Narrow to extra-wide."

"That's pretty hardcore. There must be actual mountains of sugar in here," I say.

"Well, no, but that's a mountain of unbaked meringue. You have NO idea how much corn syrup went into that," she says.

"I don't even know what meringue is, to be honest," I said. And it's still true. I don't know what a meringue is.

"It's ridiculously sticky," she adds, helpfully.

"Smells like lemon," I say, probing the limits of my knowledge.

"So you've never seen a meringue cookie? Or meringue pie? Piles and piles of white stuff? Sticky and peaky as all hell, impossible to remove if you get it on your hands?" She had her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, but that just means I find a lot of things mysterious," I said.

"Ah! Well, meringue. Makes a great meringue pie."

"The whole thing sounds messy. Glad I'm on your good side."

"Ha! Yeah, an accident in here is insanely messy. Just one pie makes one hell of a mess," she says. Her words started to slow a bit.

"Well," I said. "You run a tight ship."

Ann opened a drawer and put a clean spoon away, and then closed the drawer. As she did so, her apron caught on something near the drawer. "Tight ship, that's me. I... oof."

"You okay?" I asked.

"I think my... yeah, my apron got stuck in the drawer. The tie I mean." She gave it a tug. "Erp."

"Oh, you goof. Here, let me help."

"Help me a sec? Yeah please, thanks!"

I went over to where she was standing, and we were close enough to feel the sparks sizzling. I almost feel the tiny little hairs on the end of my arm reaching out to hers, and vice-versa, static electric-like. I unhooked the tie which was caught on an imperfection in the metal shelf, but accidentally rip the apron in the process.

"I.. yeah.. whoops!!! Huh!" she said and stared at the ripped tie. "Cheap thing," she said, flapping the apron around.

"So much for hygiene. And the Martha Stewart ideal."

"Oh well. Besides, I'm clean as a whistle. So no problems there. Bah.. this thing," she says, and then adventurously pulled the apron over her head and tossed it aside. "Hope you don't mind me in my undies."

"You smell fantastic from this place, I have to say," I said. "Everybody loves a girl who smells like cookies."

"Oh, thanks! Yes -- one part vanilla, one part cream, one part.. uh... not sure."

"Cookie," I suggest.

"One part cookie, thanks," she said.

"And ... everybody loves a girl who looks like *that*," I say, eyebrows gesturing at her.

"Who looks like what?" she said, looking around for someone else.

"Oh, uh. Nobody. I think I saw a picture of, uh. Eleanor Roosevelt. Cough. Sorry," I say.

"I... what? Nevermind." She took a seventeen-inch pastry shell and placed it on the bench. "So here's what I do. Load in some pastry cream... lots... like this... add sliced strawberries... like... so... and so... hm hmhmmmmm... and then top it off with loads and loads of thick whipped topping. Dollop... dollop... lots of dollops. What you think? More?"

At this point, I stood idly behind her, staring idly at her behind. Confession: I don't always have the best instincts. In this case, I had a sudden impulse to give her a wedgie.

"Sounds good, right. Hm? Oh. Yeah, I guess that looks nice," I say.

"Perfect. Hey, while you're back there, would you scratch my back? Right under my bra strap, it's driving me NUTS!" she said.

I immediately replied, "Sweet hell yes."

"Oh god thank you."

I reached underneath her bra strap and gave Ann a light scratch. While doing so, I breathed in covertly to smell her hair, trying my best not to go full Biden in the process. "Say when," I said.

"Ooh... oh... yeah... right... right, a little..."

"Right? Right here?"

"Right... no left... back the other way... left..."

One hand scratched back and forth with my well-clipped nails, while the other hand traced across her back. "You have the cutest freckles," I said.

"Oooh.. thank you... yeah... got a few. Connect the dots and you have a map to Skull Island. Oh, up, please? Up up up? Almost got it.."

"OK... here? Bingo? You keep working on that pie."

She dollops more topping onto the pie. "I... OH yeah, THERE!"

Then, suddenly, with malice aforethought, I gave her a light wedgie. "Aahhhh the devil made me do it ahhhhh the devil all the time." As I did so, she jumped, and the bra strap, under strain from my arm beneath it, snapped.

"AAAGH!!! WOO! What the!!"

"Not my fault!... OK, totally my fault."

Ann turned around slowly, and looking down at her bra, sliding slowly down my arms. She held it up like a dead fish and stared at it. Then stared right at me. Men have died under lesser stares.

I erupted in laughing in guffaws. A class act to the end.

"How did THAT happen?" she asked, oblivious to being topless.

"Confession: I only intended for ONE of those things to happen," I said.

"Man! Talk about cheap!" she said, tossing the bra aside, and then looked down. "Sorry, gotta deal with my boobs for a while," and turned back to the pie.

"I'll find a way to manage."

"Ok, this one's done. Here, pick it up and take it to the table over there, please. What do you think of the pie? Does it pass inspection?" She started another pie, ignoring the fact that there are 300 lined up on tables and carts awaiting boxing.

"Yes, mistress," I say, picking up the pie, weighing it in his hands. "It seems like a proper pie to me. Very white and thick with little bursts of red. How it tastes, I don't know."

"I have no clue how it tastes, either," she said.

"Huh? Really?"

"No idea! Really. I assume it's good?"

I put the pie down in the appropriate place. As I do, she was watching my movement intently, for fear that I'd ruin something, and accidentally splashes a little bit of cream on her left breast.

"Wait. So this could all just taste like oatmeal for all you know?"

"That's right. So one of us ought to taste it, you think?" she said, not quite making eye contact. "For all I know, yeah. I'm guessing it doesn't but.." she shrugged. While continuing her work, she dolloped a crazy amount of whipped topping onto the strawberries and pastry cream of this current pie.

"Well, I can scratch that itch. God, here," I said, gently cupping her left breast and wipes off the whipped topping, then licking my hand.

She blinked, shivered, and smiled, "ooh!" And after a pause: "And?"

"Tastes... uhh... not as good as it looks," I said.

"Ahahaha.. nice! Thank you! Honestly, I'm not worried about how they taste. Honestly, that's not what I have nightmares about," she said.

"What do you have nightmares about?"

"Well, I dream that I arrive to work naked. And, fully nude, I have to get to work. So I'm running around in here, absolutely I mean bare butt naked, wobbling and jiggling and everything..."

I was about to look her up and down and make a smartass remark but say nothing.

"...and I end up getting a ginormous pie in the face! Man. I wake up in a sweat every time. Can you imagine?"

"I am imagining the dream, and I'm imagining the sweat, too, but I wouldn't call it a nightmare," I said.

"Oh no? Naked and a whipcream pie in the face!!?? What would YOU call it?"

"With you? I'd call it a comedy in heaven," I said.

Ann is pleased and smiles to herself, head tucked inward in a way that reminded me of a goose for some reason. She started on another pie, loading up topping on top of strawberries and gooey pastry cream, and snorted a laugh. "Comedy! Hahaha! You'd think THAT was funny?"

"Seeing you get a pie in the face? Like, really smushing it in there? Yeah, I'd pay to see that."

She looked at me with astonishment. "Oh my god! Come on, you don't need to PAY anything. But, still, I can't believe you'd want to see that!"

"I mean, you work here every day, but some little anarchistic part of you must feel the urge to just... ruin the whole thing. Go pie crazy," I said.

"I'd be creamed! I mean, these pies are on 17-inch wide shells!! Well... since you mention it... yeah, I'd kill to throw one of these pies at someone. Well not kill, I mean, it's crossed my mind. I mean how could it not, right? I like your sense of humor! I'm in here alone, so, I couldn't if I wanted to. So you'd be tempted, is that what you're saying?"

"That's... my way of seeing things," I said. "I feel like, you standing the way you are right now, I'd do pretty much anything you asked."

"Ohh... really??? Anything?" I had her full attention now.

"Just say the word," I said.

"Albuquerque!" she replied.

"That's certainly a word."

"Didn't work. Ok, well... you certain about this pie in the face temptation?"

"I'm sold, I'm certain, I'm absolutely all in," I said.

"Oh, you are SUCH a sport, handsome! OK! Tell you what! Go pick up a nice BIG pie, and bring it to me here, and give it to me and I will demonstrate a pie in the face!!! I mean, a great big gooey loaded with cream -- pie in the face!" she said, all agrin. "I'm looking forward to this -- you're awesome to volunteer!"

"Oh, that was a fucking oops," I said. I walked over to the long table, where the pastries were arranged in increased sizes, and picked up the largest pie that I can both find and pick up with my own two hands. "Oof."

"You don't mind that we give in to temptation? You're sure? OH my GOD, you picked the largest pie! You're really a good sport about this!!!"

"I... oh, god. Oof. Here." I obediently put the pie down near her on the apron-eating table. "I am the killer of nightmares. Like the opposite of Freddy Kruger."

She picked up the pie and bit her lip. "WHOA, this is heavy. I'd forgotten. OK.. uh.. let's see.. Count to three, OK?"

I couldn't control my blushing, and muttered to myself, "I can't believe I'm doing this". Then: "Okay. Okay! One," I said, and closed my eyes. "Two..."

Then, with both hands, Ann smashed the pie into my face and smushed it around in wide wide circles, cackling like a bird. I stood there in shock, my hands at my side, none of my features visible. A full five seconds later, I spit out a mouthful of cream. "...two and a half," I said.

And as you can imagine, she shrieked in laughter. "Oh.. hahaha.. oh you look GREAT!" she said. "AH HA HA HA HA HA! Pie in the face!! You Are SO pied!! WOW! Sexy!" She even started to wipe tears from her eyes as I stood there. "Oh my god, that was fun!! eh eh!"

It was only then that I finally laughed, getting my sense of shock under control. "There. See. Nothing to it," I said, my hands shaking from the cold. I outstretched my hands, blindly groping.

"Oh I got cream on me.. aha!" she said, wiping cream from her arms and belly, and some on the outsides of her breasts. "Disadvantage to a large chest! The girls get into everything!" She took my hands and wiped a bit of cream from my eyes, finally calming down from her gig as a laugh track at my creamy expense. And just as I licked my lips, she kissed me quickly, our tongues touching ever so briefly. I could feel her suck a bit of cream in.

"Oh it tastes good!" she said, with a little dab of cream on her upper lip.

"This is just revenge because of that wedgie, wasn't it?" I said.

"Yeah, the wedgie really caught me by surprise. Don't make me take off this underwear!... That didn't come out right... I mean... no more wedgies!"

I wiped away cream from my eyes, seeing her finally. "Hello!"

"Hello!" she said, waving back. "Oh sweetie you got pied!"

In mock disgust, I wiped away cream from my cheeks and flicked it downward, then laughed again. "Oh, I did."

"That was so worth it! Oh, you did!" she bit her lip.

"Oh, look, you have a little some on you too," I said.

"Yeah, I do. Totally worth it!" she said, smiling.

I picked up a vanilla cream pie. "That's not what I meant, dear."

"Huh? Uh... waaait a sec..."

"Mmmhmmmm. Uh-huh." I walked towards her, pie in hand.

"Noooooo no-no! nuh-uh! No no, now come on, you actually asked for it!"

I paused in my approach, chastened. "That's true."

"Well, if I take off my panties and go TOTALLY nude, will you gimme the pie?"

I nod. "That sounds like a fair exchange." There is a massive bulge in my pants, as there has been for a while.

"Stark naked, and then I get the pie back, right?"

"Scout's honor," I said.

"Ok then! Hee hee hee.. pie in the face! Men are SO easy!" She bent over and peeled off her last undergarments, and stepped outside of them, her breasts bouncing a little, she stood up and tossed them to the side. Then she stood facing me, naked as a baby, her face in a crooked grin. "Here I am! Naked! Feels great, too!"

I grumbled in frustration. "Damn."

"Alright, pie boy! Where's my PIE?" she started to reach out to take the pie.

That's when I took the pie out of the tin, holding it by the shell, and said, "Here you go!" And I gently threw the pie directly into Ann's face. There was a perfect mound of white cream where her features used to be, confined to her face in a perfect little circle, with her hairline, forehead, and ears still intact. Everything else, from the top of her eyebrows to the bottom of her chin, looked like the top of a cupcake.

She jumped back, belatedly. "WHHOOOY! OH!!" Her mouth in a wide "O", she stood there in shock, utterly pied in the face. "GASP! OH no, you didn't!"

"You wear it well, dear! Like a Magritte, but pie instead of an apple."

"I got a pie in the face!!! Oh my god!! AH!" She smiled, and as she did crust and cream slid down, decorating her naked skin. "OH, this feels GOOD!!"

"How can you not be doing this all the time?" I asked.

She licked her lips. "You know... I'm wondering the same thing right now." She opened her eyes and smiled, and looked at me, pied.

With that, I picked up two pies. "You know what this means," I said.

Living dangerously, she walked up to me and grabbed my shirt, ripping it open, popping the buttons. "No idea? What's it mean?" she started to unbuckle my belt.

As she did, I plopped the pies down on her head. "It ain't over till it's over."

"AAGH!" she froze, receiving the pie sandwich, and the cream covered her face and fell down her skin and to the floor. "OH MY GOD!" she laughed, still in shock. "Oh.. so much creaaaam!!! Why'd I have to make the whipped topping so gooey! Daaaamn!"

At that point, my pants drop to the floor, revealing a massive hard-on and an otherwise clean pink male physique. "Gooey... gooey.. I remember hearing about something gooey. Oh right! Meringue!"

Ann groped for my hard cock with an open palm and found it. "Meringue? What, a meringue pie? Or the vat of meringue? And yeah, exTREMEly gooey!"

And as she did, grabbed an uncooked lemon meringue pie and placed it into her face.

"MMMPH!" she said, stunned and muffled. "Oohhhhhhhhh nooo!"

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded her head, still muffled. "uh-huh!"

"Good," I said, laughing hysterically.

She tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was covered in sticky meringue. "MNOM!!! U kno dis is gud mrang!"

I took a hold of her hands as they were on my cock, and lightly kissed her, just as she did me. She slowly wiped her eyes, and the meringue came off in long, long gooey trails. Her eyes could open in tiny slits, but otherwise, her face was entirely white. Not even the crooks of her eyes showed any skin.

"Not bad," I admitted.

"Mmm! Stay there!" she said. I sat down, obediently. Then, with her face pied, and pie in various places on her body, she walked naked to the table and picked up a huge strawberry cream pie. She walked back, pie in hand, ridiculously pied, while I watched, cleaning my face with her discarded apron.

"Look! A rich cream pie!" she said.

I stood up, laughing. "No no no. I just cleaned myself," I said.

"This pie looks beautiful! So big! So much cream topping!!! So -- yes yes yes! You need more pie!" she said, grinning.

I stepped backward yet again. "No no no." Bumping the side of a conveyor belt, I took hold of my own set of vanilla cream pies. "This is mutually assured destruction."

"Yes yes yes!!!" she said.

"It's a zero-sum game."

"Works for me!!"

"Folly of man! Folly of man!!" I said.

"Pie in the face!!" she said, mockingly, as she launched the pie in her hand into my face, where it splatted loudly, covering my face in white cream filling. A ring of cream splashed from shoulder to shoulder and around my neck. Eventually, the bottom of the pie fell from my face and landed on top of my hard penis.

"Folly of...man," I said.

But then, with barely any time to react, I plastered her with both pies -- one in breasts, and one on the crotch, leaving a trail of icing from top to bottom.

"Ooohhhh," she said, crossing her eyes. "... that felt goooooodddd...."

I shook my head free of cream and pretended mock outrage. "You! You have NO idea how much trouble you're in."

"UH oh..." she backed away from me, grinning like a fool, pie dripping from every curve. Emboldened, I picked up two more pies, both coconut cream, and started running towards her. I overtook her in the back of the kitchen as she yelped, and upon reaching her, reached out in what looked at first like an embrace... but I swung the pies around her body in an arc, planting each onto each butt cheek.

She looked suddenly surprised and then laughed. "OH wow! Oh, come on!!"

"What a nightmare!" I said, in a sing-song voice. I tweaked Ann's nose playfully, and then tweaked her breast, but then pulled both hands away in mock disgust. She wiped the cream from her face slowly, as I flicked pie off of my hands.

"I'm really creamed. So, how much trouble AM I in?"

At this point, my cock was fully erect and taut, pointed directly outward instead of at 90 degrees. Her hand rested on my gorgeous cock and lightly caressed it, smearing cream all over in the process. "Big trouble," I said.

"Pie in the face trouble?"

"Pie in the everything trouble," I said. Then I picked her up by her perfect buttocks, slipping a little with the greasy cream in my fingers, and laid her down on a table filled with 20 pies. The pies squished against her form. Only one pie on the table was left miraculously undisturbed.

"OH NO!! Oh wow!! hahaha!" she said. "Oh, this is creamy and squishy. oh god!" She laughed, sliding around, trying to sit up or get up, to no avail.

"Ann, you are the goofiest broad I ever knew," I said.

"Thanks! I do my best!"

"I'll have to find you a moist towelette to clean yourself," I said.

At that, she grabbed my cock trying to stabilize herself. "What's this handle?"

"That's my... oof."

"Your oof?"

"It's my... eef," I explained.

She stroked me once down and up. "What's an oof eef? Feels good, whatever it is... Help me up!"

I reluctantly gave her a hand, which she took. "Up and at em. Careful, you're greased up."

Then she launched herself into my arms.. and slid down my body, skin to skin, her boobs like skis. "Uh oh... I'm slipping!" She continued sliding down until her head was right over my cock. She wrapped her lips around it. She licked around a few times and flicked the tip a few times.

"Oh... hooo," I said.

"Mm... Oh. I'm so sorry, I slipped! There was this lovely thing, so I licked it clean. I hope that's OK!" she said. She slowly stood up, with some effort not to slip.

Giving witness to my honest-to-God erection, I said: "Don't worry, it was just my lollipop."

"My back and backside are all pie.. holy fuck! Hahaha! Ok, this IS fun and damned sexy."

"So how is it that I still love that ass? Everything about you is gooey magic," I said.

"I still can't believe I got a lemon meringue pie in the face! Gooey magic, huh?"

"Yeah, and you're still yellow from it. I feel almost bad. Almost."

"Then be a good boy and bring me a pie! Please!" she said.

I gave a mock sigh, the beleaguered partner. "Yes, bae." I picked up a pie and handed it to her. She stepped out of the pies on the floor, a frictionless plane, and onto clean territory.

"Thank you! Now stand still!" she said, holding the pie, grinning, and taking a step toward me. I stood perfectly still, grimacing, flexing my cock so it bounced up and down. But as she continued, she slipped on the pie that's on the floor, and fell right into the pie in her hands, face-first with a loud "SPLOP!!"

"Oh!! Damn!!!"

I opened my eyes, then fell to my knees laughing. "You stoooooggee. Oh god, it's everywhere."

She slowly raised her face out of the pie, totally obliterated. "WHAT THE! Oh my god! I pied myself!!!"

"Oh, the crust. Oh my."

"IN THE FACE!"

"I know! It's a thing!" I said.

She blinked up at me. "Whoa.... look at me! So that happened?"

I confirmed that it did. "This moment right here would be a perfect Valentine's Day card."

Her face was absolutely pied.. a sheet of cream and filling, dripping as she moved. "Oh... Go ahead and laugh, wise guy!" she said as she picked up two meringue pies.

"Roses are red," she began.

(Gruh No no it's sticky, I complained.)

"...violets are blue..."

(Oh no stop.)

"...You have no pies..."

(Oh god I'm so gross already)

"...but I now have two!!"

"You wouldn't. You would not," I said.

"I would!!!! I would so!" she said.

"You wouldn't dare," I pleaded.

"I would so dare!" she replied.

I scrambled, looking around for protection, and only found an empty container of cool whip.

"Looking for something?" she mocked.

I glanced around. "Yes. Ammunition." I searched and searched until I finally discovered the last pie over on the conveyor belt. "If you take another step you'll never make it over here in time to pie me."

"Wanna bet!" she said, taking a step. "HA!"

Then, with a perfect Clint Eastwood face, I pied her, aiming high, so that her eyes are perfectly covered.

"AAAAGH!!! PAH! damn!"

Then as she was screaming, I stole both of her pies and gave her a pie sandwich.

"MMMBLUP!! ooooh... not meringue!!!!" she said, standing there and taking it. "oh my face.. my hair.. my... face." She had a mouth of "O", loaded with meringue, her lips coated. "Ok. OK. Yep."

I put my hand on her crotch, caressed her labia absently, cleaning away some of the crust. "Pied," I certified.

"Ok, I --- ooooohhhhh. Yeah.. pied.. can't see.. ohhhhh," she said. That's it. I give up."

"Got an itch?" I ask.

Breathing heavily, she said, "Do what you want to me.. I give up, I've met my match! Whatever you want!"

I innocently rubbed upward, knuckles still kneading into the labia, approaching the clitoris every so often, provoking her to moan and say, "aiiiii yi yi.. .ohhhh.."

"Okay. Hmm. What comes next," I whispered.

"A banana cream pie? I confess... taking a pie in the face makes me wet as fuck!" she said.

"Is that what I'm feeling? I thought it was meringue," I said.

She reached out for my cock, and after a few swipes, found it, and started stroking me through the cream.

"God," I said.

"Uh-huh..." she said, as I kneaded more into her vagina, hitting the clitoris more directly and intentionally. As I hit the bullseye, she gasps and moans.

"Isn't there some trigger you need me to say so I get nailed with a pie in the face?" she said, still stroking me. I covertly picked up a banana cream pie, rocking back and forth as our hands go to work. She stroked me harder, and faster.

"Just... tell me... when," I said.

"When what?" she said, oblivious, as my fingers flick her clit with purpose. She moaned, her hips rocking to my fingers. I continued kneading, rubbing intensely, and then licked her mouth, and looked her directly in her eyes -- and then pied her unceremoniously.

"To do that," I said.

"MMPGH!!" I licked her again, this time picking up a piece of banana and eating it. The first orgasm takes her when she is pied, and she moaned loudly through the pie in my face. "OH GOD! oh..." she fell against me, still stroking and teasing the tip of my cock.

Then she was pied again, this time with one vanilla and one chocolate.

"OH OH OH!!! YES!! OH, I LOVE PIES!" she gasped, noisy again. "so.. much.. cream.. mmmmmm."

And that set it. Like a machine, I looked for points where the layering of pie was is thin, and propelled pies towards them: little UFOs of cream of all kinds, plopping, plopping, plopping. She was dripping cream and pie from everywhere, her tits covered, her body unable to hold so much shattered pie and cream without succumbing to gravity. As she moaned in ecstasy, still stroking my cock, I counted the pies as they made contact.

"....6, 7, 8..."

"Oh..I love the sound," she said. "oh yes!!!! yes yes yes pie the FUCK out of me!!
As I looked at her obliterated body, she kept stroking and teasing me, at an unbelievably rapid pace, eager to make me cum.

"Oh, I sure will!" I said. My erection was tantric, and it's impossible to tell the difference between cum and cream, and I'm too frantically happily set on pieing her to notice that I've already started to come.

Ann is pied from head to feet, front and back. Her hair is a matte of cream, crust, and filling. With that, I placed my cock between her thighs, and thrust; and with each thrust, I pie her with a new variety; so much so that at this point I'm more pieing other pies than I am her face, which is utterly buried.

"oomph.." was all I heard from her.

"12...13...14..."

The noises are unintelligible, just moans, and the pies just cascade to the floor in a waterfall.

Then, being so close to releasing the full payload that I stop, where I turn gentle so that I can prolong the orgasm. And, having pied her face into oblivion, I turn to the rest of her body.

"20...21...22..."

Her large, beautiful C-cup breasts are totally flattened in a mixture of brown crust and cream, coconut, and vanilla. And I kept thrusting, slowly, still counting, with each thrust a new pie.

"OH.. my god.. don't stop!!!"

"30...31...32....!"

She is literally coated. Then I start going faster as I can't control it anymore.

"37.. 38...!"

She moaned. I say something like: "Oh fgod. Uhhhlove."

"Oh god yes..."

And then I collapse on top of her, into the pool of pie she'd become. We slide to the floor slowly and we fade to black.