(the essence of a desire)
Pete, the confectioner at the local patisserie, was charming in his softness, glowing look and playfulness. I met him when I was taking a cake for my birthday in the summer. My order was special, so I was directed to the pastry shop itself, which was located behind the pastry shop, where we regularly drank coffee with friends and ate the amazing delicacies prepared by Pete. Cakes, muffins, croissants… with cream, chocolate, jam … there were so many sweet temptations!
I stood in front of the large doors, inhaling the incredible aroma of the sweets prepared inside. The door opened and Pete appeared — smiling, radiant — pleasantly rounded like the donuts he was making, dressed in white and his usual chef’s hat.
– Hello! Welcome!
– Thanks – I took a step forward, surprised that he invited me in
– Excuse me, but you’ll have to wait for me to be done with something… – his good voice worked so well for me….
– Of course… (how eagerly I just agreed!)
I entered a spacious, bright, clean pastry shop. The scent of something deliciously wafted through my nostrils. Pete invited me to sit down and went to a large table with a huge amount of dough.
The chair was very comfortable, I leaned back and looked at the pastry chef, who tore a piece of dough with his thick fingers and put his hands on it, then stared at me in such a special, authoritative and unexpected way that I froze in place. I stared at him and wondered where his softness, kindness and smile had disappeared? Pete stared at me without blinking, his powerful hands not moving – they radiated strength, predatory power. I couldn’t take my eyes off it! Suddenly, absolutely unexpectedly , he smiled and his expression gained the familiar benevolence. I gasped! It was extremely strange to gasp without moving, without a single movement!
And then I felt that special tingling in my uterus, the shaking feeling of powerful arousal – like hundreds of butterflies fluttering inside me. And Pete picked up the dough. His fingers made slow movements — precisely defined, with a certain swing and twist. My heart pounded wildly at the sight. The confectioner took a bottle of olive oil and poured the piece of dough. I shuddered. I watched as if I was hypnotized. His thick fingers — powerful, greasy, passionate — gripped the dough on two sides and began to knead, squeeze, loosen it. They sank inward – he stared at me voluptuously, smiled slightly at me, licked his lips, and I moistened my panties, relaxed in the chair, completely forgetting where I was… Pete rolled the dough, but did not stop looking at me… I imperceptibly opened my thighs, pulled slightly my skirt up, so he could see me naked and open… He licked his lips again and left them slightly open to breathe fast with me… His lustful hands, shiny and large, made a movement – slightly released the piece of dough to begin to caress him – with kind, lightly tapping movements. He was fucking me with his eyes, and his fingers were sinking into the dough, which had become so soft, free, relaxed…I was wet….. my pussy had released so much juice, I was breathing hard, enchanted by these lustful hands, by this staring domineering look, by this sweet big male body that longed to squeeze me to the last drop… Ah, what a confectioner! What a scumbag hidden in the smell of cupcakes and donuts! These hands, this smile and this look! I belonged to him.
Pete rolled the dough with the skill of an experienced man and his fingers sank again, with his eyes in my sweet rose. I heard voices somewhere inside the workshop, but it didn’t matter. I was completely drunk, ready to indulge in this perverted confectioner, who drove me crazy with his crushing greasy fingers!
And Pete had shaped the dough into a perfectly round and smooth shape. It shone in his hands. The confectioner caressed and patted him to the beat of a tune. I watched him in a trance, intoxicated, wet with excitement, completely ready to give him whatever he wanted. He began to knead the dough – to squeeze it, to turn it – the beautiful lustful fingers sank into the softness, the dough swelled between his fingers… the beautiful male hands acted tirelessly, melodic, lovingly…. The dough took whatever shape his hands gave. A new twist, a tapping… and a new sinking of the fingers in one with my passionate sigh, the fruit of a volcanic desire that boiled inside me, watching this delicious lustful performance…Pete was smiling at me, but the desire of a stray animal was boiling in his eyes… I felt how he would open all my holes to the point of pain, he would fuck me to the point of fainting, he would extract all my juices to the last drop…
It was as if I fainted when Pete picked up a towel, wiped his hands, and walked over to me. I wanted him to bend over, get closer and put those magical thick fingers in my pussy! And then move them quickly, passionately, deeply, until I’m done and pour his hand in liquids…
But he said:
- Now I’ll bring you the cake – as he was smiling.
I almost asked what kind of cake he was talking about. I didn’t know what to say, I just pulled on my skirt and tried to wake up.
- Come tonight, I’ve made you a special cake. Here, at 9 p.m.
- I’ll come… … – I immediately agreed.
Pete brought me the cake. My knees were soft, so he grabbed me by the waist to help me. His hands had a magical effect on me!
I picked up the cake and left unsure.
- I’ll be looking forward to seeing you, my sweet, -‘he teased.
I, barely standing and wet between my legs, could only smile….
This text was created by Emma Tommova and has copyright. Please respect this 🙂
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