“Close your eyes.”

Jamie obeyed, fiddling with one of the silk bows at his waist. The tiles were cool through his knee-high socks, making him wish he hadn’t removed his shoes as he listened to the approaching glock, glock of Sunil’s Mary Janes on the dining room tiles. There was a rustle as the skirt of his boyfriend’s cornflower blue dress met his complementary pastel pink one—a gift that morning, so cute it would have displaced his grandmother’s cheongsam as the outfit for his twenty-fifth birthday even without the sublime blowjob wake-up that preceded it.

If only we could take a picture of this moment without spoiling it, he thought, as fingers swept his hair behind his shoulders. Two pretty femboys in frilly lolita dresses, standing in a roomful of flowers. The whole day captured in one image.

“Thank you for today, Sunny,” he said when breath tickled his forehead. “It was beautiful.”

“It’s not over yet, Pretty.” A tender kiss, with only the gentlest flick of the tongue, swallowed his smile at the use of that pet name and what he hoped was the promise of a night of lovemaking. “Did you like the cake?”

“I loved it,” he replied. “So huge—and with Pride colours inside!”

“That was the smallest they could do. Did you notice the icing?”

“Yes,” he replied, hoping the weak candlelight hid his blushes. Doesn’t he realise what such creamy icing does to me? “Hard not to when it’s an inch thick.”

“I meant the colours—in the femboy flag!”

“We have a flag now?”

“Yes! It’s just made by some rando on the internet—the same colours as the transgender flag but with pink and white on the outside for our femininity, and blue in the middle because we still identify as male.”

“Oh! I just thought it was to match our outfits. It was so delicious and sweet!”

“Sweet like you.”

Jamie gave him another kiss. “Should we have a fondue for your birthday, then?”

“Fondue?”

“Cheesy like you.”

“Careful, Pretty, or I won’t give your next present.”

“Another dress?”

“Even better.”

“Even better than two new Angelic Pretty dresses?” That second when they got home from their day strolling in the Cotswold countryside had been a bit baffling. Much as he had loved the first, he wasn’t sure he needed two identical ones—if they were going full “brolita”, they would need a few different outfits, wouldn’t they?

“Just wait here. No peeking!” With another kiss, he was gone. Jamie clasped his hands demurely behind his back, eyes screwed shut—he did love surprises, after all, although this level of mystery was new from Sunil. Maybe it’s a butt plug with a pink crystal at the end to match the clothes? Moments later, music started playing.

“What’s with the violins?”

“Cello. Bach’s Cello Suite Number One, in fact. Goes with these clothes better than ABBA.”

“I like it. Remind me to buy some Gothic Lolita clothes so we can listen to Black Sabbath sometime.”

“Is that gospel music?”

“It is to me.”

Jamie nervously wiggled his toes, feeling a thrill at the memory of how they had felt in the smooth mud by the edge of the brook that afternoon. If only he’d known about the second dress, he might have been a bit less worried about getting the first one dirty and pushed his feet further in. But then Sunil might have noticed, despite the distraction of Jamie’s tongue on his cock under his petticoat, and asked some awkward questions. After three years together, he still hadn’t mustered the courage to confess that particular fetish.

Deliberate steps approaching pulled him back to the present. They stopped in front of him, and a knuckle stroked his cheek.

“You know I love you, Jamie,” Sunil said, a tremor of nervousness in his voice.

“Of course! And I love you!”

“You never have to be afraid to tell me anything, okay?”

“Yes. Can I open my eyes? Do we need to talk?”

“No, keep them shut. I understand. Some things are hard to say. So sometimes you just need to do!”

Before Jamie could react, something wet hit him full in the face. The force knocked him back a step and made him yelp in surprise. He stood, paralysed and blind from whatever now coated him. When he gasped for air, he got a mouthful of it and immediately burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Sunil let out a sigh of relief and joined in, carefully wiping away buttercream icing so he could see.

“How— How do I look?” he got out eventually, fluttering his eyelashes flecked with rainbow crumbs at the large, laughing brown eyes of his boyfriend.

“Messy?”

He giggled again, looking down at the avalanche of rainbow crumbs and pink, white and blue icing that had been his birthday cake covering the front of his new dress, ending in a mushy pile at his feet.

“How did you know?”

“Darling, when you leave your laptop on the Ultimate Messy Directory, walk away and don’t lock it, three nights in a row, how could I not know?”

“Huh. I should lock my computer, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes. But,” Sunil scooped some cream from his nose and licked it before continuing, “you should also tell me any quirky little kinks you have. The worst that can happen is that I say I don’t want to try it, and you can do it when I go to teach a judo class.”

Jamie nodded, causing more cake to break off and fall to the floor.

“Spread it over me,” he said. “Take your dress off first—mine is ruined, but there’s no need to wreck yours too. Only—”

“Yeah, I know—leave the stockings on.” He grinned and stepped out of the splatter zone to strip down to his lace-trimmed bloomers and white thigh-highs with the blue bows, removing his shoes as well since he didn’t trust the heels in combination with cream and tiles.

The mess on the floor squashed under his feet when he approached again, making him flinch instinctively, but he tried to suppress it for Jamie. Sunil looked him over and began smearing cake over his chest. Coloured sponge and buttercream combined in a paste that squidged satisfyingly under his fingers and stuck to them as the dress got steadily slimier. When he wiped them off on his lover’s face and hair, he was seized by how pretty he looked plastered in cake and pulled him into a kiss, tasting icing and then tongue as Jamie kissed back. Sweet goo transferred to his cheeks and chest, but he didn’t care.

Realising how much his boyfriend was trembling, he decided he needed to make it worse. Squatting on his heels, he gathered the skirt and petticoat beneath, kissing that little bulge of flesh where the socks met skin, and then lifted them further to expose the retro underwear. He passed the skirts to Jamie, then began scraping up what cake remnants he could from the tiles and massaged it into his thighs, up as far as his panties but studiously avoiding the straining bulge within except to give it a teasing lick before standing up again.

“Kneel,” he ordered. Jamie did so, crumbs and cream providing a thin cushion on the hard floor.

“Close your eyes again, and don’t turn around. I’ll be right back.”

“What are you giving me this time?” he called, but there was only the thrum of the cello. A shiver ran down his spine, though the apartment was warm, and the cake topping had not soaked into his clothes enough to make him cold. He didn’t dare imagine what might be about to happen.

“Are you ready?” The voice came from behind him.

“For what?”

“The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

Jamie gasped, jerking his arms up in shock as thick liquid poured over his head, cascading down his back like liquid silk and making a distinctive splattering sound as it hit the surrounding tiles. Even before he opened his mouth to allow a rivulet inside to taste, the vanilla scent told him what it was: custard. Glorious, smooth, vanilla custard.

Then Sunil emptied the rest inside his dress. The sluggish torrent built up at the waist to ooze slowly over the cotton covering his rock hard cock, then mingled with icing on his thighs and pushed loose cake crumbs ahead of it in a colourful mudslide. He shook as the sensation of the goo making its way over his skin overwhelmed him. Slowly, he brought his hands to his head, smoothing the gloop coating his long hair, eyes still shut and masked by the gift. It crept between his fingers, building up on them as he discovered just how thoroughly drenched he was.

Sunil walked around to admire his handiwork, stepping in the puddle of deflected pudding and ignoring the liquid seeping through to his feet. Jamie’s facial features had melted into a smooth, shiny mask, broken only by the twin holes of his nostrils and the wide-open chasm of his mouth. With two shaking fingers of each hand, he wiped his eyelids clean and opened them to Sunil looking down on him, concerned.

“Did I go too far?”

Jamie couldn’t speak but just opened and closed his mouth, lips webbed by the drips that built above them, then looked down at his ruined dress, running his hands over it to squish the slime inside against his chest, down to the skirt. He gathered it and the tulle petticoat up to look at his legs, releasing a fresh avalanche of custard down his thighs, burying the top of his socks to leave only the pink bows sticking out like flood markers. Licking his lips and wiping the drip closing in on his left eye, he looked back at Sunil and slowly shook his head.

“Thank you.” Barely more than a whisper, but he heard it and his shoulders sagged with relief. Jamie cocked his head. “How do I look now?”

“Pretty,” Sunil answered. He laughed and added, “Messy, too.”

“That’s the idea. Wet and messy.” Jamie looked down. “At least this doesn’t seem to have been a turn-off.” He reached out, leaving a trail of custard over Sunil’s panties as his finger dragged over the form of his erection. “Oops! I creamed your pants.”

Sunil rolled his eyes. “Are shit jokes one of your other kinks?”

“No. Just a hobby.” Pulling the waistband of the bloomers down as he said this, he released Sunil’s cock and stroked the light brown shaft, coating it with a thin layer of vanilla pudding. “Maybe I can find something else to do with my tongue.”

He licked up what he’d left, meeting a small salty bead at the tip as he passed it, and then sucked him all the way inside his mouth. His tongue danced all around the shaft on its way to his throat and swirled around it as he pulled back, leaving custard in his wake that he then had to lick up.

After watching his creamy face carry out this ritual only five times, Sunil pulled back. He sank to his knees, straddling Jamie’s lap to wrap him in his arms, tasting himself on his tongue and pressing his naked body into the sticky clothing. “I’m going to come first if you don’t let up.”

“I love your come, Sunny. And this mess—I can’t describe how good it feels, and it doesn’t stop!”

“The gloopiness is kind of fun, and you do look hot covered in it. But can you take your dress off now? I want to feel your skin on mine.”

“I might need some help. It’s become a little slippery.”

“Can’t think why,” Sunil said sarcastically and slid around behind him. Peeling it off resulted in a giggling fit from both of them, but eventually, it and both their bloomers lay discarded in a sodden pile. They sat, tangled in an embrace, smoothing custard and birthday cake over each other. “You’re right. It does feel…”

“Delicious?” Jamie suggested as he bent to lick dessert from Sunil’s nipple.

“Yes. And all over my body at once, even where we’re not touching right now.”

“So… why custard?”

“Jamie, you have over a thousand photos in your ‘WAM’ folder, and more than half are labelled ‘custard’.”

“Oh, yes… Well, thank you all the same.”

Hard cocks slid against each other as they kissed and licked the pudding from each other’s naked bodies, the wet squelch echoing off the walls. Both their hands met at their slick poles, and their fingers meshed, enclosing them in a cage of flesh and pressing them together. Their lips found each other once more, and Sunil pushed forwards until they slid with a slap onto the floor with him on top, hips grinding together. On Sunil’s cheeks, the custard looked a brighter yellow in contrast to his darker skin and dangled off him, becoming more gelatinous as it cooled. Tremors rippled the surface until Jamie’s hand smeared it away, and they devoured each other.

The combined grip of their hands tightened as Sunil thrust through the space between his palm and his partner’s cock, sliding in the custard up his shaft to rub glans against glans and then back down whilst his forefinger stroked the other side. Each pass brought Jamie closer to the brink of orgasm. His face twisted, unable to continue the kiss as the climax crept ever closer until Sunil dived down to suck on his nipple, and he exploded. That cry sent Sunil over the edge too, and come fountained up between them, mixing with cake and custard to add a new consistency to the mess that connected them.

Jamie’s whole body shook as his climax continued. The heat was still coursing through him when Sunil slowly dragged his hand over his belly, gathering the cream and come up to Jamie’s open mouth, and then pressed his lips to it, their tongues stirring this heavenly new cocktail between them in post-orgasmic bliss. Finally, Sunil pulled away. They both gave a satisfied sigh and pressed their foreheads together.

“Fuck, Pretty!” Sunil said, finally. “I have never seen you come so hard!”

“I don’t think I ever have.” He craned his neck to survey the surrounding area. “We’ve made quite a mess.”

“That plays to one of my kinks, you realise?”

“Oh?”

“I, er, I bought us both French maid costumes too. Proper cosplay ones.”

“Of course.” A cheeky expression came over Jamie. “I was maid for lovin’ you, baby.”

Sunil narrowed his eyes. “Am I going to have to introduce spanking into this relationship too?”

“I’m sorry.” Maintaining a completely straight face, he added, “Spank you so much for my presents.”

As it turned out, cold custard was as effective a soothing balm for burning buttocks as it was a lubricant.