The Women From The Bakery [FM]

Yes, I am one of those assholes that fucks a married women. I feel guilty for it, sometimes. Sometimes, because fucking her just is awesome. She is the hottest thing that ever happened to me. We are doing it for five years now – I am 25 years old in the moment I write those lines and she is 56. We love it, we enjoy it and we can’t go without it anymore. Luckily we didn’t get caught in the last five years. Some people might be suspicious, but until now, they kept their mouth shut.

Our romance, or better said our fucking relationship, began when I was helping out in the bakery around the corner during my summer holidays. I was a regular at their place for ages, so five years ago, when I saw a piece of paper hanging in their shop “Help wanted.” I asked the owner if he’d hire me. He knew me, we always got along, so he said yes.

Work days started early: 3 o’clock in the morning, bakers have to be early birds. The fresh bread must be ready when people are going to work around 6 o’clock in the morning. It nearly killed me in the beginning, but I got used to it.
The wife of the owner was my only coworker in those morning hours. She was a more than just good looking 51 year old women. I always checked her out when I ran into her previously. And now I was stuck with her, on close quarters, with the oven heating up the room. It was hot in there. Very hot. And I was hard. Most of the time. She knew what was going on. On the second day she said the following: “Instead of dreaming of me, instead of imagining fucking my hot body, get some work done. Now.”

While saying that, she squeezed her hot boobs and clapped herself on the ass. Her doing so made made my jaw drop to the ground. And she took it even faster: “You probably don’t even know how to handle a women like me.”

Then she smiled. She was joking, at least I thought that she did. Then we went back to work: Mixing doe, forming bread with our hands, baking it in an age old gas fired oven. We were producing some of the best bread in town. We did it with passion.

Around 7 o’clock my time in the back of the bakery always was over. I moved to the front, into the store, selling products to our customers. I hated it. I wanted to be in the back again. With her. Baking bread. Mixing doe. While gazing at her sweat covered body. Imagining how it would be to fuck her.

Two weeks passed by. I was undressing her every day with my eyes. I took every chance to get a glimpse on her. And there were plenty of chances. They even got more with every day. She was bending over a lot, often offered me a view down her cleavage. I was hard most of the time when I was working with her.

Back at home I jerked off thinking of her. Sure, there were many female customers in the place. Good looking ones. Younger ones. Hot ones. But I was hooked on her. I wanted her. I wanted to fuck her. To fill her up with my cum. Damn it, only thinking about fucking her made me cum pretty hard.

At work she kept on teasing me. In week three she took it even further. She began accidentally bumping into me. I accidentally bumped into her, as a revenge act, sort of. Two, maybe three shifts later we got touchier. My hands landed on her hot ass, she was grabbing mine. We always laughed it off when it happened. But tension was building up. Hormones began to go wild.

Then it finally happened: On an ordinary Monday morning. I was slapping her ass because she was bending over in a very seductive way. She got up straight, turned around and our eyes met. We were looking into each others eyes for some time. Then we got closer. Then we began to kiss. Passionate kissing. With our hands exploring each others bodies.

Seconds later we tore the clothes off each others bodies. Constantly kissing. Clothes flying through the air, landing everywhere. Two naked bodies dancing with each other. Touching for the first time. It made me go wild. It made my dick more than just rock hard. Rock hard and dripping. Only because of her.

Then she landed on some flour bags. Flour was flying through the air. Landed on our sweaty bodies. Turned us into ghosts. Horny ghosts. I was on top of her. Still kissing her, ready to open up her legs, to slide my dick into her. But she stopped me. Whispered in my ear: “Be a good bod. Eat me out first.”

I kissed my way downwards. Sucked on her nipples for some time. Then I dug in. My tongue between her legs. As deep as anyhow possible. She moaned out loud. She tasted great. Licking her pussy turned me on even more. I desperately wanted to fuck her. She must have felt that. She pulled me back up. Smiled at me: “Fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

No need to tell me that twice. I slid my dick inside her dripping wet pussy. It felt so good. I fucked her gentle in the beginning. Not enough for her. I fucked her harder and balls deep. It made her moan out loud. Her fingernails began to mess up my back. It hurt, but it made me fuck her even harder. One hard and deep thrust followed the other. She loved it. I loved it.

I came closer. But I kept myself together. I wanted to finish her off first. My balls were aching. Then she let out one final moan. Tension left her body. She had an orgasm. I stopped restraining myself. My aching balls dumped their nasty load inside her pussy. A huge orgasm, combined with an even bigger load.

After I was done, I collapsed onto her. Two exhausted bodies were laying onto each other. On some flour bags. Sweaty, covered in flour. Regaining themselves. Happy, satisfied. At about 4 o’clock in the morning. While her husband was sleeping one floor above us.

But happy times where over fast. Smoke was filling the room. The scent of burned bread was everywhere. I jumped up, still totally naked, hurried over to the oven, got the bread out and drowned the totally black pieces with water. No, nothing burned down that night, only two hot bodies cured each others horny.

After all fires were extinguished, it was back to work. After we collected our clothes and got dressed. We opened up all windows to get the smell of sex and burned bread out. We made up a story for the burned bread smell. Yes, I was to blame. But it was worth the hustle.

From that day on, we fucked every day I worked there. It became our morning ritual. We kept on fucking every workday after I stopped working there. Every morning, on my way to work, I make a stop at the bakery. I knock at the back door, she opens up. I pound the shit out of her, then I leave. Yes, it is a great way to start your day.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/v7ksu7/the_women_from_the_bakery_fm