Sticky and Sweet

Right. It's approximately 8:52 a.m. on Sunday morning, December 27, 2009. Normally I'd be fast asleep at this hour, but the fact that my father has a footstep like a lumberjack doesn't lend itself to sleeping in. How my mother puts up with this I'll never know...

Speaking of my mother, she's still stuffing my face at every turn -- or at least trying to. Insisting that I'm somehow "too thin," she thinks nothing of offering me cookies and pie at every turn. I deny her, of course, insisting that body standards in Miami are some of the strictest in the country.

"I can't go around looking fat," I said. Especially not when I earn a living selling my body for sex. If women wanted someone pudgy around the middle, they'd fuck their husbands.

"Oh, come on," my mother continued. "This pumpkin pie will go bad..."

Personally, I'm an apple pie man. However, looking at the can of whipped cream makes me think back to one of my first night's at work. The client -- and I've never had this particular fetish requested since -- had a thing for food.

Well, not food so much as condiments, but still! She had whipped cream, honey and even fruit at the ready. Once I suppressed my giggling, I was pretty excited (literally and figuratively) about what lay ahead. But learn this, kids: Sex and condiments ain't what it's cracked up to be.

Don't get me wrong. Licking whipped cream off her tits and sucking the nipple thereafter was lovely. Ditto for pouring honey on her abdomen and the inside of her thighs. It had a way of combining with her natural taste into something completely unique.

She did much of the same to me -- licking, sucking, pausing to place a strawberry in my mouth, too. However, once everything was licked clean, what we were left with was a kind of sticky film on both our bodies. Once we finally got down to having sex, I felt my chest being tacked onto her own as I was on top of her.

"Um, sorry about that," I said. "I guess we overdid it with the whipped cream."

"Hmm? Oh, right," the client said, clearly not much caring. "Don't worry about it. We can shower after...."

She trailed off as the both of us got into the groove of things, so to speak. We climaxed shortly after. As I rolled off of her, that same sticky film almost tried to keep me in place.

"So," I said, still erect. "About that shower..."

Washing myself clean felt good. And when she joined me inside the shower, well, that part was even better.