All in the Name of Love and Art

All in the Name of Love and Art

"Wear something sexy that you don't mind getting totally ruined..."  

Francesca's lips twisted into a faint, mischievous smile as she remembered Adam's parting advice to her on the phone that morning. Looking down at the deliciously revealing red sundress spread out on her bed, Francesca felt a tingly surge of half-nervous, half-excited anticipation. Then, a slow, sublime ache of desire began to ooze throughout her body. She couldn't believe what she had agreed to do, all in the name of art and budding romance. Dating a photographer was already turning out to be an adventure in more ways than one.  

They had met a few weeks earlier at a gallery social event for 20 somethings. Francesca kept telling herself that this wasn't a convenient time to fall in love. She was 23 years old and had just moved to Atlanta to accept her first job out of graduate school- a prestigious and demanding position at one of the city's top marketing firms. Only a month earlier, she had broken up with her college boyfriend, Brian. But Adam had proven to be too cute, too charming, and too persistent to resist. He was also a stunningly talented artist. Visiting his cool, spacious Midtown Atlanta studio one afternoon, Francesca found herself mesmerized. Each photograph, from the serenely noble to the playfully zany, seemed to come alive and shimmer with a sublime sense of poetry.  

It was on their second date that Adam surprised her with an unlikely question which seemed to come out of nowhere. They had just finished an elegant dinner and were laughingly fighting over the final, luxurious crumbs of a lavish chocolate torte when he put down his fork and looked at her for a moment. He seemed to be drinking in the beauty of her face in the candlelight, with its olive-toned, Mediterranean complexion and dark vivacious eyes...studying her shy, unforgettable smile...relishing the glorious, glistening, chestnut brown hair which fell just below her shoulders.  

"What is it?" Francesca asked expectantly, with a hint of amusement.  

"Have you ever had a pie thrown in your face?"  

The question was tossed out with a cool, nonchalant curiosity. Francesca laughed. "That's really not the question I was expecting. No...Why? Is that something you'd like to do to me?"  

There was something teasing and flirtatious about her answer that caused Adam to grin.  

"Maybe...Only if you're willing. I mean, seriously, you're a beautiful, intelligent, dignified young woman. How would you feel if you found yourself in the middle of a massive food fight?"  

"I think I would survive." answered Francesca, overcome with the silliness of the conversation. "Actually, it might even be fun, depending on the circumstances."  

"I've been kicking around this concept for a photo shoot." explained Adam. "Here's my idea...You get three stressed out, overworked young women together and give them the opportunity to shed all adult responsibility for a few hours by having the most wild and crazy, messy food fight imaginable. I think the photos would really pop with a spontaneous energy and shock value. It would be pure, uninhibited joy. What do you think?"  

There was something about Adam's proposal that seemed tantalizingly naughty and adventurous. To her surprise, Francesca even found the idea to be a sexual turn on. Secretly, she had been hoping that Adam would ask her to model for one of his projects. Yet she had never envisioned this kind of wild, decadent, Dionysian orgy. At work, she had attempted to cultivate a serious, professional image, something these kinds of photographs could severely undermine. Still, by the time the dinner check arrived, Francesca had agreed, with some trepidation, to participate.  

Now, holding up the bright red sundress, Francesca contemplated the evening of mayhem and insanity that lay ahead. Brian had given her the dress a week before she made the painful but necessary decision that they had to break up. She had never worn it. At this moment, as she embarked on young adulthood in an exciting new city, the thought of totally trashing this vestige of the past felt strangely fun and liberating.  

A slow, thrilling crescendo of horny pleasure filled Francesca as she took a long, hot shower, did her hair and makeup with meticulous care and precision, and slipped into the immaculate sundress. She packed a neatly-folded towel, a change of cloths, soap, shampoo, and a hairbrush in an overnight bag. Adam had assured her that they would have access to a shower after the food fight. She wanted to leave the photo shoot looking almost presentable, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  

"How can we possibly do this without destroying Adam's studio?" Francesca wondered as she eased her sleek, white Corvette through the Friday evening Atlanta traffic.  

Twenty minutes later, Francesca found herself in Adam's warm, muscular embrace. Dressed casually in board shorts and a white T shirt, he seemed to be prepared for anything sticky and sloppy that might fly his way. Hopefully his expensive camera was as well. Francesca was committed to smashing at least one pie into Adam's face before the evening was done.  

"Here's my totally crazy, adorable boyfriend!" she giggled, playfully wrapping her arms around his chiseled body.  

They kissed. Adam's eyes drifted over Francesca's smooth, sensuous curves, clad in the sundress.  

"Wow you look amazing!" he exclaimed with a smirk. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"  

Francesca felt her heart leap into her throat as she glanced quickly around the room. Clear plastic sheets covered the floor and the exposed brick walls all the way up to the ceiling. A blue tarp was spread out on the floor, flanked by two bright inflatable kiddie pools. Metal carts and folding tables contained rows of cream pies, cakes, raw eggs, giant opened cans of chocolate syrup, baked beans, Spaghetti-Os, bottles of ketchup, mustard, barbecue sauce, and more. Francesca knew that there would be no way to survive this with her dignity intact. She watched as Adam and his 19-year-old intern, Lauren, slowly wheeled a plastic trash container into the room. Dressed in a bikini, Lauren, an aspiring professional photographer in her own right, had come to work prepared (perhaps hoping) to get messy. Slowly and with some effort, the two lifted and tipped the container. A thick, heavy, gooey white substance dumped into the kiddie pool.  

"This is going to be rad." said Lauren, her lips twisting into a smile as the final glops nearly overflowed the sides of the pool.  

"In case you're wondering, that's approximately 172 gallons of cold mashed potatoes." quipped Adam.  

"Oh my God....Adam...Have you gone INSANE?! gasped Francesca, giggling.  

The second kiddie pool was filled with squishy dark red strawberry jello. Overcome with silly, juvenile pleasure, Lauren shook her bikini-clad breasts and let them jiggle and quiver in imitation of the shaking jello. Giant bulk containers of smooth chocolate pudding were dumped and spread across the tarp. The combination of smells was almost nauseatingly gross. Francesca took off her shoes, moved them to safety, and stood barefoot next to the tarp. She had never imagined doing anything so crazy or gratuitously wasteful. For once, she would indulge in mindless fun.  

"So this is what human civilization in the twenty-first century had come to." she thought with amusement.  

Within ten minutes, Francesca's messy playmates arrived. They had answered an online ad soliciting volunteers for the event. A bottle of wine was opened and up tempo dance music was turned on in the background to set a party-like mood. Adam suggested that they take a few moments to introduce themselves in order to break the ice.  

Giggling nervously with a hint of embarrassment, a blond twenty-something began to slowly unzip her jeans and pull off her top. Underneath, a bikini clung to her sumptuous body. Her princess-like face was illuminated by blue eyes and an unforgettable smile. She pulled her short hair back into a neat ponytail.  

"I'm Erika." she said, giggling apprehensively. "I'm a college student."  

"Where do you go to school, Erika?" asked Adam.  

"Emory."  

"Cool. We're really glad you're here. So, tell us...why did you decide to come and join us tonight?"  

"I just survived finals week and I thought it would be a memorable way to celebrateAnd I've always wanted to be in a food fight. It's been my fantasy ever since I can remember."  

The other woman, perhaps in her early 30s, was slightly petite with short, neatly-styled light red hair. She wore a sexy, bright, floral print spaghetti strap dress.  

"I'm Megan. I'm a nurse anesthetist. My husband is away on a business trip and he has no idea I'm doing this. My two and a half year old is spending his first night at the babysitter's. This feels totally irresponsible. It's kind of liberating..."  

The delay was gloriously excruciating. Francesca wondered if Adam found the prospect of three hot, scantily-clad women wallowing in huge quantities of food to be as erotic as she did. What they were about to do would mirror the messy, tactile, playful nature of sex. Would he be able to concentrate on his work without developing a hard on? She would try to be as distracting as possible. Francesca had to work to keep her voice even and nonchalant in an attempt to disguise the horny pleasure that was growing inside her.  

"I'm Francesca. I just moved to Atlanta last month and I work in marketing...Basically, the only reason I'm doing this is because Adam is my boyfriend."  

Everyone laughed.  

"I DID give her a choice!" protested Adam. "Just for that, be sure you don't spare Francesca at all!"  

Now it was playtime. Accompanied by the "click, click, click" of the camera, Erika, Megan, and Francesca took their first, tentative steps onto the pudding-coated tarp, captivated by the novelty of the experience. Francesca watched as her bare foot sank into a thick, cool glob of chocolate pudding. Her smooth, still-immaculate legs felt delightfully exposed.  

"Eww!...This is going to be such a mess!" moaned Megan through giggles as she got a closer look at the contents of the tables.  

Standing in the middle of the tarp, all three women froze with hesitation. Looking at each other, they suddenly burst into laughter.  

"You both seem so nice, and I just met you" said Erika. "I don't know if I can throw food at you!"  

"I understand that it goes against your natural inclination to dump a can of baked beans over the head of someone you just met," said Adam with mock exasperation, "But someone has to start this off. You have full permission to completely trash each other, so go for it!"  


Francesca stepped to one of the carts, taking care not to slip. She selected a massive cream pie. It was surprisingly heavy and deep. Clearly, Erika was one of the nicest, sweetest girls anyone could hope to meet. Still, Francesca would have no problem putting this pie squarely in Erika's face.  

Immediately understanding what was coming, Erika took a deep, apprehensive breath, quickly, brushed a hand over her hair, and then let both arms drop to he sides. She stood, waiting in resigned obedience, her beautiful bikini-clad body on full display. Putting on an air of cocky glee, Francesca approached, holding the pie. Slowly, she raised it in aim.  

SMACK. Francesca pushed the pie into Erika's face, watching thick, gooey whipped cream and chocolate splatter and ooze in all directions. A collective, involuntary groan of delight erupted from the room. An avalanche of heavy chocolate, whipped cream, and broken pie crust hit Erika's shoulders and fell into her cleavage. As Erika began to pull off gobs of pie, she noticed Megan lying in wait with a massive, heavy can of Hershey's chocolate syrup.  

"No..no...you wouldn't do that!" protested Erika, shaking with uncontrollable giggles.  

With an evil smile, Megan lifted the can over Erika's head and let it tip. Sticky black chocolate engulfed the blond ponytail. It poured onto Erika's shoulders and consumed her breasts, coating the once-bright bikini top. As if in slow motion, chocolate dripped and ran down Erika's legs. Giggling with silly, carefree pleasure, all three women were enthralled with the mess that was being made.  

Erika was eager for revenge. Dripping from head to foot, she stepped to the table and picked up a pie in each hand. A chocolate cream pie hit Megan's face with a satisfying slap. Erika rubbed it in and then smeared it up into Megan's neatly-styled hair where it stuck like a hat. Francesca brushed back her hair and braced herself, preparing for the inevitable.  

SPLAT. Francesca tasted and breathed pie. She could feel Erika's hand pushing and smearing the plate into her face with firm enthusiasm. She felt heavy , thick clumps of pie dropping into her cleavage. Cream and chocolate went up her nose and into her ears. For a moment, she felt smothered under a thick mask. As the camera continued to click, she wondered how many people would enjoy seeing this. When it came to guys, she had always been in control, laughingly dismissing any advances that didn't interest her. Now, in this single humiliating moment, she was stripped of that special confidence and magnetism. Her stunningly memorable, distinctive face had been reduced to a target for a cheap and demeaning sight gag. All of that work on her hair and makeup  

Now, the food fight was getting out of control. Amid shrieks of wild laughter, pies were smashed and smeared. Eggs were thrown. Francesca found herself getting squired with barbecue sauce. She retaliated with mustard. The wild, uncontrollable laughter went on and on. After months of pent up stress and respectability, it was time to let go of inhibition.  

At Lauren's suggestion, they were eager to try out "cake sitting." A massive, perfectly sculpted chocolate layer cake was placed on a round white plastic stool. Megan stood over the stool and looked down at the multi-layer desert. Amid rowdy cheers from everyone who watched, her ass sank into the perfect cake, crushing it and sending frosting and cream filling gushing over the sides of the stool.  

"Oh my God, that's fun!" panted Megan, squishing her bare feet into the gobs of cake littered across the floor.  

Another equally elaborate cake was placed on the stool for Erika. Adam had spent (wasted?) an unbelievable amount of money on this endeavor. Erika stood over the stool, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. Then, splat. She seemed to enjoy the feeling of cake oozing between her legs.  

"I feel sorry for whoever worked hard decorating these!" giggled Megan "We're totally CRUSHING them flat! It's fun to destroy things!"  

Another cake was placed on the stool. Francesca positioned her ass, spreading her legs slightly. Down she went, sinking into layers of moist cake, smooth, gooey frosting and thick cream. She felt it slurp between her legs, experiencing orgasmic pleasure. She felt it sticking to her ass and thighs. She played in it with her feet. As she continued to sit on the stool she was ambushed with a can of baked beans which was dumped unceremoniously over her head. Irrationally loud shrieks of laughter ensued. Spaghetti-Os were splashed and a ketchup and mustard fight began.  

"What if someone walked in right now?" giggled Erika. "They would think we're totally crazy!"  

A thick, disgustingly sloppy mixture of glop was accumulating on the tarp. Francesca felt food covering every part of her body. Her previously beautiful hair dripped and oozed and felt heavy and matted down under layers of slop. Megan and Erika had so much food smeared in their hair and on their faces that they were completely unrecognizable. Francesca looked down at her dress and legs. She could see neither. The dress hung with the dead weight of a sopping wet towel. She was sure it was ruined. Her mission for the evening was accomplished.  

They had all been slipping and sliding around the tarp, nearly taking the inevitable fall. Finally, amid the mayhem, Erika slipped and landed on her ass in the slop, giggling uncontrollably. Megan took a headlong dive and slid across the floor. Francesca joined them. She slid and rolled in the mixture, feeling it ooze around her body. She felt consumed in food. They wallowed in mashed potatoes and jello. Bikini-clad Lauren had been assisting with the cameras. Now, no longer needed in that capacity, she was able to indulge herself. She lay down in the kiddie pool of jello, enjoying the sensation.  

"This is kind of hot." she proclaimed, scooping up handfuls of squishy jello. "I'm going to do this with my boyfriend sometime..."  

Within a half hour it began winding down. Feeling gross, Megan, Erika, and Lauren headed to a back door leading to an alley to hose themselves down before taking a shower. Francesca just lay on her back in the slop. Adam crawled on top of her and they wrestled and made "slop angels." The dress came off her shoulders. She ripped what was left of it off, tossed it aside, and lay naked. They rolled, slid, played, and kissed. She enjoyed the feeling of his body sliding over hers and his gooey hands on her breasts. She could feel his hard cock. She picked up a large chunk of gooey cake and thrust it into his face. At 1:00 AM, the others long gone, they took the longest, most pleasurable shower of their lives.
 

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