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So if you want to know how I got started, check out After the History of Slapstick. I was an actress who did a lot of slapstick / messy stuff in a “documentary” about the History of Slapstick. But when the censors decided a little too much of me was going to be showing on TV during our second season, they cancelled us. So now I do personal appearances, because there were a hell of a lot of guys who seem to have loved watching me get messed up. Often just I take a pie in the face and then leave with my check, but sometimes I get a little crazy.
So there was a launch party for some new computer game, and they wanted me to appear. Seemed pretty normal, but the guy running things said he wanted me to dive into a pool of jello. OK, I’ve done that before, even wrestled in it, but when someone starts saying “dive” and “pool” even my self-preservation kicks in. OK, he promised it was a big kiddie pool and he didn’t really mean dive, though he did want me to jump off a diving board he had. Believe it or not, it’s a living.
But the day of the party, I’m running super late. There was this whole thing with my car not starting and then I got it jumped, but it died about halfway there. Thank whoever for Uber, but I was still running over an hour late. We were losing the sun, and his party goers were all crowded around the pool cheering for me to be the jello shot. I looked down in the pool and sure enough, he had one of those eight foot long about two foot high kiddie pools at the bottom of an empty swimming pool. The jello was firm – like the whole thing, smooth as glass on top. I asked him how he did it – got solid jello in LA. He just smiled and said, “Lots and lots of ice”.
Well, OK, I climbed up on the board, and the jello looked pretty far down. I know it was less than eight feet, but, well, I was a bit nervous. Stupid me, I had rushed up onto the board trying not to be even later, and I didn’t check everything out. Well, the mob had closed off the end of the board so I was going to jump or be thrown, so I figured, I’d belly flop – safest way to distribute my mass, right. (What, you think I’m completely stupid? I’m just warped, not dumb.)
OK, maybe I’m a little dumb. Leaping off the board, I was most concerned I was going to just bounce off the huge jello mold. But that wasn’t the case. Things went as planned. I belly flopped the middle of the pool. Head, feet, everything lined up pretty good – nothing slamming into concrete. I felt the jello sink down, and I was preparing myself to try and land on my feet if I got thrown upwards on my gelatin trampoline. Then I felt it change.
Yeah – This wasn’t a solid piece of jello. It wasn’t even solid jello mixed up, which I was familiar with. No, this was a layer of solid jello floating on top of a very liquidy mass of completely unsolid jello. My body sort of mashed against the firmness, but I felt my face pass through the solid layer. Jello can be fun! It felt jiggly and slick as my face cut through it. But then I was into the sugar water below. Since I had been expecting to get my feet under me after bouncing, I was completely unprepared to get fully dunked into jello water. Worse yet, he had used lots of ice; it was absolutely freezing. As I passed into the slippery mess, the cold shock was the first thing I felt, then the runny chill surrounding every part of my body at once and invading all those places you shouldn’t have jello. I felt frozen outside and inside.
I had to struggle to my feet because huge pieces of solid jello were trying to hold me down. I fought my up as the crowd went nuts. Look, they were just there to see me messed up, and this was one of the biggest messed ups I had ever done (since leaving the TV show). Andy, the guy who hired me, was hurrying down the pool ladder apologizing as he came. Normally I would have done a little “ta-da”, but I was a bit woozy from the shock factor of being dunked.
Andy helped me back up out of the pool as I tried to regain my senses. I looked down at myself – I was drenched. A huge wake of red slime was trailing behind me. OK, I crack myself up at all the wrong times, and probably shouldn’t have been chuckling that I was now a huge snail. He just kept apologizing and leading me inside. Many thoughts were running through my mind, but the lead thought – How the hell was I going to get home? Uber was no longer my friend when I looked like this.
We paused in the mud room and I could see the gears churning in his head. He didn’t want me in his house while I was dripping jello. I looked at him and in a strangely calm voice said, “Dude, I need to shower.” Guess it’s crazy what you can get used to.
“Yeah, I’ll put you in my room and ask my Mom for some clothes for you to wear.” The fact that he lived with his Mom did not go by unnoticed.
“Andy, you’re a nice guy and all, but I’m not showering when I’m at risk from all your friends.”
“Oh, no! Don’t worry about that at all. My Dad doesn’t allow my friends in his house.” OK, so that said a lot. Though looking at him, I could tell he wasn’t lying. Probably the safest shower Maltepe Escort I was ever going to get.
So I let him lead me into his bedroom (yep, the basement). Don’t get me wrong, the house was gorgeous. Even his little basement apartment was far better than how I was living. I tried not to drip so much but that really wasn’t my decision at this point. He ushered me into the bathroom and closed the door, locking himself out.
Well, nothing to do but do it. I stripped out of my strawberry colored clothes and stepped into the shower. As I was turning on the water I stuck my tongue out to taste the jello. Ehck! Clearly they had bought every flavor of red jello and mixed them together. Somehow I was far more horrified now than I was before.
I wasn’t quick, but I wasn’t luxuriating in there either. OK, maybe a little, the pressure from the shower felt as good as the warmth. When I heard the door open. I freaked a little and I think I let out a bit of a scream. “It’s just me”, called a female voice. “I’m Andy’s Mom. He asked me to get you some clothes, but I don’t know what size you are.” I peeked just to make sure this was “Mom” and not some weird Norman Bates thing.
Yeah – “Mom”. Apparently not his actual birth Mom. One look at her and it all fell into place. Dad must have been absolutely loaded, if he could afford a trophy wife like this in LA. I mean shit – She was stacked. She was in yoga pants and a sweat shirt and she looked better than most models in the Victoria Secret catalog. I think I was gawking with my mouth open a little too long, because she said, “I’m really sorry to come in here on you, but you didn’t hear me through the door.”
OK, so warped or not, there were logistics to be handled here. I needed clothes. I needed to dry off, and she was probably going to make both of those things happen. I turned off the water and told her my size. (No, I’m not telling you pervs!) Needless to say, the new Mrs. Andy’s Mom was smaller than I am. So, I’m standing there dripping in the shower and getting a bit cold as we try to figure this out. I see the lightbulb go on in her head, and she heads out to find something for me to wear.
Logistics – I grab a towel and start to dry off, and yes, I opened the shower curtain like any normal person would do. So when Mom came back I’m butt up, bent over, dying my legs, towel saving the decency of my ankles and that’s about it. When you’re as warped as I am, you don’t even bother to cover up at that point. It’s too late!
I just shook my head and waved her in before junior came to see how we were doing. She was embarrassed for me, which was really cute. She had gotten me one of her husband’s golf shirts, which she knew would be too big, and some of Andy’s gym shorts, which embarrassingly enough were not.
As I finished drying off, she was working up the courage to ask me something. You know how I can be – subtle. So I said to her, “Out with it. What are you dying to ask me?”
“Why do you do it?” I raised an eyebrow at her like I didn’t understand, despite the fact that I get this question all the time. “I mean why do you do all this silly stuff with food?”
“Did you watch my show?” I asked her.
“No, at least not when it was on. But Andy got me watching it the other night when he was trying to explain who you were. He has all of your messiest scenes cut together into this long montage. He’s really a big fan.”
Like I said, I answer this question all the time, and the truth is, I don’t know why I do it. I’m warped I guess. But I gave her the answer that settles most people. “As crazy as this may sound, I do it because I’m proud. I’m proud of the work I did, and I just don’t see a problem with slapstick. Why do I do it now, because people want me to, and I’ve never welshed on a bet. If I show up and say I’m going to take a pie to the face, I take a pie to the face. No way I’m backing down now.”
She was sitting on the sink at this point and she squirmed a little. Look, I may pretend I can read everyone’s emotions, but I can’t. But hers? Yeah, this I recognized. She was getting horny. The idea of me all messed up was getting her excited. I want you to know that I don’t actually prostitute myself. I do appearances, take a pie to the face or jello pool to the chest, and go home. But this woman was probably the best looking, non-airbrushed woman I have ever seen, and I live near Hollywood. The idea that she might be interested in me, even if I did have to wear some pie, I at least had to try.
So I asked her, “Ever hit someone with a pie?”
She got all sheepish, “No, nothing like that.”
“Did you watch my stunt?”
“Well, yeah, from my bedroom. I figured I should make sure you didn’t get hurt.”
“Well thank you for that. But I think you enjoyed it a little more than you expected, didn’t you?”
She just nodded. Damn, but I’m a sucker for that innocent act. She looked so sweet just blushing a bit on her cheeks and nodding her head.
“Do you want to try? I mean do you want to hit me with a pie?”
“Oh, Anadolu Yakası Escort don’t be silly, I wouldn’t do that. That would be mean.”
“No, it’s fun! Look when it’s two friends doing it, it’s just silly fun.” You know I didn’t think it out before I said it, but once I did, I could tell it hit her like a ton of bricks. I said “friends”. Looks like the girl in the gilded cage didn’t have very many of those.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the house. Even for a freak like me, running naked through this huge house was a bit odd. We cut into a bedroom and into the bathroom behind it. This was a much better bathroom than Andy’s.
“Is this yours?” I asked.
“Hmm? No, the guest bath. Wait here.”
So I sat on the comfy chair in the bathroom (don’t ask me why they have a comfy chair in the bathroom). I’m still naked, and slightly damp, just waiting for the crazy lady who wanted to hit me with a pie. OK, crazy is relative, and I was the one sitting there patiently waiting for it.
She came back with six cans of whipped cream and some paper plates. The look on my face must have said volumes, because without me asking, she said, “Andy was supposed to put it on top of the jello, but he forgot to.”
I took the plates and cans and began to load one up. I can do this in my sleep. I can do it sexy, or unsure, like I’m all nervous. Today, for whatever reason, I did it pretty no-nonsense. I got three pies out of one can and they looked OK. Then I decided to get a little sexy.
I got behind her and held onto her arms. I had her pick up the first cream pie and showed her how to balance it, and how she was going to throw it. I was going to get in the shower for easy clean up. I’m not going to get all romance novel here, but I could tell, she liked having me holding her.
So I’m climbing into my second shower in the same house today and she puts the pie down. I was confused and probably a little bit disappointed. Was she going to chicken out on me? Then she stepped out of her sweat shirt, yoga pants and even her thong. She put them outside the bathroom on the bed. When she walked back in, she said, “I can’t risk getting them dirty.” I felt bad for her if she felt she couldn’t get her clothes dirty, but I felt good for me, because I got to see that incredible body. Wow, I’d pose for her anytime if she’d just let me drink in this view.
Her first attempt to throw the pie didn’t work well. It sort of hit me in the boobs and stomach and slid off. She was embarrassed by that, but seemed to find it kind of funny. I told her to actually hit me with the pie instead of trying to throw it, so she did. She walked right up and smashed the pie into my face, a little rough but not a problem for a pro like me. I wiped the cream out of my eyes and she was giggling in that cute, crazy, kind of high way. She already had the third pie and hit me square in the face again.
I was trying to give her a sexy pose with the cream all over me, but I heard her spraying more cream onto a plate. I cleared my eyes, and saw she was loading them up. She was using about half a can on each plate. So I helped her. Three cans = six pies. I was going to get back into the shower, when she asked me, “How does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
“Getting hit in the face with a pie.”
“Well, these are different from a real pie – no crust. But as to how do these feel? I don’t know, I guess silky and smooth. You lotion, right?” She nodded her head. “Well, it is kind of like that. Cool and a little bit sexy.
I could tell she was breaking out of her shell, but I didn’t expect this – She grabbed two pies and got into the shower with me. “I want to hit you and then have you hit me.” You don’t have to tell me twice, I grabbed the pie out of her hands and stuck my face out. She did a perfect pie plant in my face, and then swooshed it upwards into my hair. I was not going to miss this, so I cleared my eyes with a one handed swipe, then I planted that mountain of whipped cream right into her perfect 10 face. It engulfed her, smushing around her face and getting into her ears and her blonde-beauty hair.
I couldn’t help myself, honestly, I couldn’t. I kissed her right there. As I was doing it I was terrified that I had gone too far and I was going to ruin a prefect thing, but she kissed me back with fury. I don’t think she could see, but she didn’t seem to care.
She broke the kiss, but only to go and get more pies. She was climbing back into the tub as I was climbing out and she smashed one of the pies into my chest. It was supposed to be an accident, but she was really accurate. I took the other pie from her and smashed it into her chest. We both grabbed for the full cans at the same time, and started wrestling around. We were trying to spray each other laughing like hysterical hyenas and getting more cream on ourselves than each other. I don’t know if either of us did it on purpose or if it just happened, but soon we had fallen on the bed and were wrestling around trying to spray each other while making İstanbul Escort out.
We stopped to catch our breath and I noticed that we had completely covered her clothes in cream. I started to apologize, but she stopped me. “Don’t worry. My husband won’t be home for three nights. I’ll either get them cleaned or replaced. This is way too fun to stop.” And then she wrapped her cream covered arms around me and hugged our cream covered breasts together kissed me in the sloppy way I go all soft inside for.
We rolled around on the bed making out a little more, when we heard something at the door. Yeah – when you’re naked and covered in cream, while making out, you should really lock the door. Duh! There was Andy in the doorway, jaw on the floor. I figured, oh well, there goes the fun. Weirdly, she was all maternal.
“Andy”, she says without even bothering to cover up. “What happened with your friends? Is the party still going on?” Even looking like this, she was more worried about him and his feelings. Wow, my mom sucks compared to that!
His eyes were wide as saucers, but he answered her. “They all started to go home. After seeing her jump and we didn’t have any hard liquor, so most of them went to the bars. I was going to join them, but didn’t want you to worry.”
“So there’s no one in the backyard anymore?” she asked him.
“No, they all left.”
She looked him straight in the eye, and suddenly had this in-charge aura came over her. “Now, Andy, you know that I love your father. And I may only be your step mother, but I love you like my very own son. But you’re not going to breathe one word of this to your father, are you?”
“No Mom. I doubt he’d believe me anyway.”
“Good point. But I’ll make it up to you if you promise to keep quiet. Follow me.” Maybe she should have waited to hear him say he promised, but since she didn’t seem to care, I didn’t either.
I know. This is the point of the story where you say, “Do you expect me to believe that you were naked, but covered in whipped cream, following an equally naked and covered in whipped cream gorgeous creature outside, where apparently anyone could have seen you?” To which I answer, not really. First off, this is Los Angeles. Nobody has a pool that can be seen from the neighbors’ yards. Sometimes, they can be seen from the neighbors’ upstairs rooms, but not this time. I looked around when I was on the diving board, and Andy’s Dad had too much land for the neighbors to be involved in whatever it was that we were doing here. Oh, and the gorgeous naked lady – That’s actually how my life works. I think it’s because I’ve had some pretty crappy things happen too, and the universe has a tendency to try and even things out for me.
So the three of us marched out to the back yard, only Andy wearing any clothes. Mom went right to the pool and climbed down. A lot of the jello had splashed out and was now on the bottom of the empty pool, but there was still at least 20″ of slime there. Mom (it’s not my fault; I was never told her name) stepped into the pool and gestured me over with her finger. The whole walk out here, I was just mesmerized by her body, so I wasn’t going to say no. I stepped into the pool, feeling the slimy, freezing jello squish between my toes and up my legs. I shivered and I know my nipples hardened.
Mom looked at me and took what I guess she thought was a wrestling stance. I held up my finger to put her on pause. “How are we going to determine the winner?” I asked her.
“Um … I hadn’t thought that far in advance.”
“So let me tell you how it will work.” I held up the bottle of whipped cream I brought with and walked/waded over to her. I was holding her attention with my eyes, so she shrieked when she felt the nozzle go up her little pussy and shot her full of cream. Surprised, but I knew she was liking it. I shot myself full of cream too, and I know it was getting really sloppy in there, even without the cream.
“The winner,” I explained, “is the one who gets cream on her nose first.”
“Yep! Nose. Trust me.”
I handed the can to Andy and turned to face her. She was already coming at me. I’m sure she was in great shape and probably reasonably strong for a woman of her size, but she was tiny. Me? I’m a full figured gal with wider hips, so I had a lot of advantages here. Still, she hit me and neither one of us could stay on our feet in the slop. We both went down, but she wasn’t really on top of me.
So, OK, maybe I’m a pig who likes to wallow, but I absolutely love wrestling in crazy substances. Mud, oatmeal, jello, whatever, I’m first in line. My hands were all over her, thoroughly enjoying myself. She kept coming at me but I have to say, I sensed that she didn’t want to win. She may have pulled the Mom voice on Andy, but she wanted me to pin her down in the jello and take advantage. But she wasn’t going to make it easy.
So there we are, two grown women wrestling in jello in the bottom of a pool, with her stepson watching us. I’m overly competitive, so I wasn’t going to lose. I kind of flipped her on her back and while she was catching her breath, I dove my face into her pussy and got cream all over my nose. I came up triumphant, and she let out a sigh of defeat. I knew she was sorry it was over, though she was breathing heavy. Watching her breathe heavy was wonderful.
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