Cake Orgy

It's a Sunday afternoon and I've been invited to an erotic performance. The show begins with a Military looking man, who's supposed to be a chief flight steward. Somewhere in the middle of the audience, a girl starts rubbing her body. Within a minute or two, she reaches down to her crotch and the performance begins. Suddenly, we're seated in Traverse, as the action between steward and passenger begins to heat up. But then, I discover that this performance is catered, as a girl brings a tray featuring  hors d'oeuvres and slices of cheesecake, gateau and chocolatey deliciousness. I'm given one of the chocolate slices and a fork. Suddenly, the world around me disappears.

Enraptured in cake, I don't notice that the first row are now fondling themselves, eager to join in with the experience. Lost in sweet ganache, with the merest hint of saltiness, I am oblivious as the central event reaches fever pitch, steward and passenger moaning and panting, as he enters her. Overwhelmed by the buttery biscuit base, the electricity of eroticism goes right over my head, as I come to the last two bites.

And just like that, I'm done.

All of a sudden (to my eyes at least), I'm in the middle of an orgy. The atmosphere has overwhelmed almost everyone by now. So I wipe my mouth, unzip my trousers and am soon enough invited to the party. But that's another story...