Let me know if you enjoy it. Cheers.
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Clean again at last. The shower gel cap is clicked shut. With my hair dried and cotton buds in the ears. I step out of the bathroom.
In the spare room my filthy hubby lies in a sea of semi-liquid brown sludge.
I act surprised. ‘I thought you were cleaning up? I’ve been in that bathroom over an hour!’
‘Uh…oh I feel horny again. Thought I’d wait until you came out then…’
Not likely. A thin strip of clean polythene sheet down the side of the room lies between me and the door. He stands up and my escape route is barred.
‘No…come off it’ I plead.
He just smiles and beckons me forward with his forefinger.
‘Aww..no..this isn’t fair!’
My pleading is hopeless. I feel myself moving forward onto the polythene sheeting then my toes squishing through the cold brown gunge. Painted toe nails disappear into the ooze. I’m powerless to resist, but feel strangely aroused again.
In my cream silk nightdress, which he forbids me to remove, he orders me to sit cross legged at his feet. My protests are in vain. There is no escape. I lower myself until I feel my bare bottom touch the glop, bringing me into eye contact with a messy stiffy which prods me in the face.
Filthy hands grab handfuls of my hair and pull my mouth over his foul tasting knob. My nose meets his matted pubes. What a fucking filthy blow job bitch I am.
Wiping his dick on the shoulder of my dishevelled nightdress he stands back. He picks up an empty catering tub of margarine, the contents of which had been shampooed into my hair and face a couple of hours earlier, and fills it full of stinky brown glop.
Now I want you to repeat after me ‘I have been a naughty girl and need to be punished.’
The words bubble out of my lips. ‘I have been a naughty girl and need to be punished.’
‘Look at me when I’m speaking to you’ he says.
A pat of gunge hits me square in the face, then another and another until it runs over my shoulders, flattening my hair and filling my lap. Tub after tub is tipped over my motionless head until finally it stops. I can’t see. My nose is blocked. I’m a filthy mess again.
I feel the sodden nightdress being lifted up my back. I raise my arms limply to help with its removal, but instead it gets torn in two and thrown to the side.
Now, as I lean forward on hands and knees, I feel his slippery hands fondling my boobs, smearing gunge under my armpits, over my back, into my ears and under my chin. Every square inch of flesh is covered. A bag of flour is emptied over me, adding to the revolting concoction of foods on the floor. Again his hands are over me, working the flour and goo into my skin and hair. What a filthy pig I am.
And then he becomes oh-so-gentle. The palms of his cupped hands softly circle around my nipples. My head starts to swim. He caresses my shoulders and with long sweeping strokes, draws his hands down my slippery back over my bottom and into my inner thighs. I feel something soft being squashed into my behind. I look back to see what it is. In his hand is a fist sized lump of margarine. Oh my! I make a quick mental assessment of my situation. Mrs Respectable, kneeling naked on her bedroom floor, covered in every sloppy foodstuff under the sun, having soft-spread pulped into her twat. Fuck! What would my line manager think?
Reality is blown away by an index finger reaching second knuckle inside me. It moves in and out, then slides up to my clit. Another finger prods my bum hole as my greasy clit continues to buzz. I feel my knees beginning to shake. I can’t take much more of this.
With a groan, my knees buckle and I slide gracelessly onto my back. Legs spread wantonly he continues to finger-fuck me towards oblivion. I circle my arms on the floor above my head and draw two tidal waves of goo onto my torso, then up over my face and head. More handfuls of slop are scooped into my face until with a bang, the inevitable orgasm rips through my body.
My brain feels like one huge exploding firework. Past caring, I feel my thighs being pulled up, ankles pinned behind my ears and an angry knob pushing through the mush into my pussy. With his balls slapping against my bum he screws me into the floor for the second time this evening. I want to scream. The pair of us are such slippery slop pigs that with every few thrusts we slip apart. We fuck-and-slide across the slimy polythene until, with my head firmly secured in the corner against the spare bed, he shags me good and proper.
Minutes later I regain my senses as the sexual buzz starts to wear off. My poor pussy feels totally worn out. The shower is running next door and no guessing who’s in it. How about I just lie here another hour until he comes out again?
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