Written by PML — 2011 — from WamLibrary
foam, m/f, pie
Kelly’s Perspective
I stood there, open arms, kind of like the Angel of the North, on that platform. In a French maid outfit. With a frilly hat on my head, tied around my long flowing green hair. Got to love Ramona. I know my husband is over there, watching me, but I don’t look at him, just keep staring ahead of me. All this because when some woman promises to jump into a chocolate pie, she can’t do it properly. Of course, I nearly screamed when Eddie said there was no chocolate left, not after the pineapple incident. Oh, of course there is the giant foam pie right beneath me. So there I stood, arms open wide, in a latex French maid outfit, on a platform right above a giant foam pie.
There were no words. No conversation. No signal. No acknowledgement.
I started to lean forward. Falling towards the pie in front of me. Fighting all of my reflex to keep my body straight as I fall. Gravity pulls me down towards the foam, pulling my head down so that as the foam rushes up at me, my whole body is level with the foam. The eyes reflexively shut as the cool white foam smacks against my face. I fall deep into the foam, so deep that I can feel the foam on the back of my legs. I lift my head, smirking at Eddie, while shaking my head at his obvious turn on. Got to love him sometimes. I push myself onto my knees, crawling towards the front of the pie, before climbing to my feet. I stood right at the front of the pie, staring straight into my husband’s eyes. I winked at him, stood in a star position, then let myself fall backwards into the foam. As I lay there, I could hear Eddie shuffling around.
There were no words. No conversation. No signal. No acknowledgement.
—
“So Kelly, I hear you’ve christened the giant foam pie. I take it Eddie enjoyed it too.”
“I should hope so, Emma, he knows how to push it.”
Eddie’s Perspective
Eddie watched as Kelly stood up on the platform. There she stood, doing the Jesus Christ pose. If you put her on top of a Brazilian mountain, that would be. The platform stood just above a giant foam pie, and Kelly was stood right above it, dressed in a French maid outfit. Oh, how Eddie wanted to run over to his wife right now and take her right now. Of course, it would be just her that she wanted to correct an injustice in the wam world, by recreating it herself. So Eddie watched his wife Kelly, dressed in a latex French maid outfit, with her long flowing green (“damn that Scott Pilgrim”) hair, stood with her arms out wide, on her own little pedestal, above a giant foam pie (although Eddie did have to remind himself that he had no chocolate spare).
There were no words. No conversation. No signal. No acknowledgement.
Eddie watched as Kelly leaned forward. Too far. Arms still wide open. She pitched herself forward until she could no longer control the momentum. She fell through the air, falling down so that by the time her face hit the foam, she was horizontal. Kelly smashed through the foam, disappearing from view as the foam collapses onto her back. A few seconds later, a white Kelly pops up, smirking on her face, while shaking her head at Eddie. She crawled onto her knees, before getting to her feet and stood at the front of the pie. She looked Eddie straight in the eye, winked, and stood legs apart, star shaped, and fell backwards, sending more foam everywhere. Eddie caught a glimpse of where Kelly’s panties should have been, and decided enough was enough.
There were no words. No conversation. No signal. No Acknowledgement.
—
“So Eddie, I see you used that foam for good use. Surely Emma and Kelly would have preferred it to you?”
“Shut it Pete, just keep playing your game.”