Cooking Custard for Gunge Fucking


“The key to cooking custard is to heat the milk first and then add in the mix little by little. You don’t want to suddenly add and then find that you’ve added too much. There’s no going back from a custard that’s too thick when it comes to an ass-crack-custard pour. You know what I mean? I have accidentally custard-glued an ass together, especially brown ass. She was Brazilian and she made me promise I’d never fuck her. ‘Just cuz I’m brazilian doesn’t mean you ride my ass, promise ok?’ she said. I promised and then I made a custard but I didn’t have that much milk and I overpoured the mix and there was no going back. By the way, brown ass does seem to glue easier than white and yellow ass. Anyhow, I was stuck with gloppy custard in my pot. The pot had a spigot. I couldn’t get it out. It was too thick! Instead, I had to dump the fucking gloppy custard over the side of the pot awkwardly. I overpoured the overthick mix and it glopped all up her ass crack. She screamed, ‘It’s too fucking hot, asshole. Hurts more than anal! Jesus Christ. What the fuck?’ Her screaming scared me and more poured out over her ass. ‘Sorry Sorry’ I said and I saw it. The white custard melded to her brown skin. It like cum-smelting. This yellow custard just kind of fused with thick brown Brazilian booty.” He paused in his diatribe.

“How bad was it?” you asked. 

“Dude, you won’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” you said.

“It was so bad that I had to get a paring knife. So I’ve got this burned bitch with a big brazilian popazuda booty face down on the ground screaming and banging her fists on the ground, kind of like you have G-strung right now, same exact position, and—what the fuck was the bitch’s name?—I’m coming at her ass holding a knife and she screams like mad. I mean I didn’t even cut her. I just wanted to unhook the custard. It was like anus rim crazy glue, the poor slut. I was just trying to help unstick the bitch.”

“Like a doctor,” you interjected.

“Yes, like a doctor.” He laughed. It was weird watching a dude in a Darth Vader mask laugh. I saw the laugh in his shoulders, but not by face. Weird. He kept talking, “So I was like ‘Shut it, bitch, or your cuntlips are going to be ripped off. Let me unstick this glue.’ She stopped screaming but said, ‘no knife. You suck it off. Suck it hard as you need.’ I never thought this would work. I can’t even blow out candles I smoke so much weed but I couldn’t stand her screaming so I sucked the hard custard up, and it pulled at her anus lips, you know the external sphincter, fuck maybe even the internal one. I gave her a rough gluey rim job, the custard dried lightning fast and as I sucked it pulled off in sticky strands pulling her cunt lips with it, it pulled her pubic hair, it was like giving her a wax with a side of cunnilingus. She was screaming, cumming, crying, drying up all at once. It was magnificent.” 

As Darth Vader, well your cameraman in a Darth Vader suit spoke, you poured milk into a pot and added one carefully measured spoonful of custard into it.

“What the fuck, dude. Weren’t you listening?” he said in a high-pitched, whiny, annoyed voice. If you hadn’t seen him fuck so many chicks you would fucking swear he was gay as a two dollar bill. 

“Custard ain’t glue. You did that to her intentionally. I know you,” you said. “What was it? Gorilla glue?”

“You’re a moron. Go on, repeat my mistakes with G-strung. Hope she’s shaved, you poor sod!”

You heat the custard. Darth Cameraman walks away singing the Imperial March really fucking well. He’s put his Malcolm Gladwell 10,000 hours into scatting that song ever since he was five, the immature bastard that he is. Now he could do a concert at Lincoln Center even though he’d be more likely to do it in the subway with a cup full of change. When the custard is ready you grab the handle with a dish rag and bring the pot to G-strung. Her hot black body is sprawled out there on the white floor. She’s so black against the white tile. She senses you there and says, “do you do this to your white girls too?” It’s a good question. You think back to Karla, your Jewish whore, the last chick you gunged. “Of course,” you tell G-strung. In your mind’s eye you see Karla face down, her bush so hairy it grew up into the crack of her ass. Her skin was pale as an old Anglo-Saxon queen’s and you poured hot chocolate sauce right down her white crack. You had made Karla get totally naked. Even her traditional tichel head scarf and wig were off. She was bald, white, and doused in hot chocolatedripping down her ass crack. You buried your face in Karla’s cunt and licked off the chocolate sauce. That fantasy was like eating shit, chocolatey scat on a white ass. The contrast of black on white was what made your dick so fucking hard.

This was different. G-strung was so black you needed to eat white off of her. Thus the “cum” custard.

You dumped the white custard on brown G-strung’s thick ass and smacked it. It was such a hard, muscular ass. Her ass smacked back and the white custard splashed. You poured it over her crack. The white sauce dripped off each chocolate ice cream scoop of ass cheek and then pooled in the middle and ran down like a custard cum river. The white cream dripped down deliciously until it smeared on the floor. You couldn’t take it anymore. You got right in there so that each ass cheek of hers was against each cheek on your face. You were buried in ass. The drippy white lines of her phat ass cheeks smeared onto your cheeks and eyes. You licked right up and down her crack slurping the custard off until you uncovered her asshole. Like usual, as soon as you saw the asshole, you convulsed and…