Panera Adventures: Wrestling the older customer (long) [FM]

“I want you inside me,” I said, breathlessly. *Please*
Skimming over my slippery pussy and ass, he said, “I don’t know, sweetie. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
It didn’t matter just yet. My body was already throbbing, squeezing nothing but the anticipation of him. I let out a high pitched moan, then sudden silence, and grabbed onto the desk. My insides clenched and the honey of my orgasm drizzled from my slit and down my thighs.
He let out a “Well, fuck,” and confirmed, “Now you’re going to get it.”—–

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your horses. Let’s back up a little. (Unless you’re the impatient kind, then proceed). This is my first post so I apologize for the length, etc. But I did want to go into a little of a backstory in case I decide to share more of my graphic customer (maybe even co-worker) adventures. I enjoy replaying the memories in my mind and I look at this as an outlet, placing words into a tantalizing form so that others might feel the delight with me. This is one of my favorites. I hope you like it. ;)

When I was 22 I worked at Panera, the bakery/sandwich shop. I was a cashier and adored my job. The shop was in a small town that had everything nearby: grocery market, drug store, various doctors offices, various schools, a college, hair salon, donut shop, ice cream shop, everything. It was crowded enough that no one knew everyone, but quiet enough you could get to know some of the townies if you wanted to. And I sure did! Being 22, fully developed, and still taut in all the right places, I could cream my panties in a second. I met all kinds of people. My favorites that came in the shop were the regulars. I won’t bore you with the frequent cordialities of them all, but there is one particular man I’d like to start with.

He was an older man, maybe in his late forties. Clean-cut, salt and peppered hair, wore a suit every day. Brown, flirty eyes, cue- George Clooney, (I know, cliché, but I’m not even kidding!). You know that smolder and add an occasional wink. He would come in at the morning rush and always make sure to get in my line. I remember thinking that was weird at first, maybe even creepy. But I loved to socialize and get people going and he seemed to like the same thing. And I certainly didn’t mind the way he stared at me with that deep squint, looking me up and down. At the time, I was into wearing black boots and flared jeans that curved up and over my round bum to rest at my hips with a studded belt. My normal black, low-cut tee, one size too small to show off my curvature. Add in my Panera uniform: a rectangular, unflattering olive green apron that I’d pull down low enough to show a hint of cleavage, and wrap the strings around my waist as tight as I could to show off my waist and hips. He also didn’t seem to mind my large blue eyes, and my long dark hair that was partially tucked under my olive visor and flowing over my shoulders. I think he called me an anime character once, which is cute and dainty to say, but I’m quite tall- 5’10”.

Well, hi!” I would say with a smile.
“It’s you again!” He’d reply excitedly, like he didn’t just get in my line on purpose. *Silly man*.
“What can I get you today?”
“Oh, you know…”
“Do I now?” I’d stare athim.
“Oh, I think you do.” He’d say with certainty back to me.
Of course this would make me blush, and he’d chuckle to himself and nudge his buddy next to him. It’s a common interaction we’d have. One that went on for for weeks, months even. And I never thought more would come of it. I mean, he came in everyday with a friend, a co-worker if I were to guess. The co-worker was always laughing and shaking his head at his friend, as if to say, “What are you doing?” So I (at the time) assumed this was a flirty, silly thing this older guy did out of boredom. Little did I know that there was more to this agenda.

“Do you want to wrestle?” He used to ask me, almost whispering. This question caused me to raise my eyebrows and grin. I never knew what to say. I didn’t even know what he meant. He’d ask repeatedly and I used to wonder: *What does he mean by “wrestle”? No one uses this term for anything. How old is this guy? Is he flirting? Does he want something? Do I want to know? Of course I do!*
So one day he came in, looking handsome again in that suit, winking at me from the door, over a crowd of people. It was an exceptionally busy morning, warm, I had my hair up and was running around, taking orders and getting people moving along with their coffees and pastries. He kept letting people pass him. *What is he doing*, I had asked myself. And eventually the lines started to die down and he maneuvered into my line, staring at me with more determination than usual.
“Hello, mister!” I said all cutesy, beaming a smile at him.
“Good morning to you.” He wasn’t flirting though. He was focused. *weird*
“You’re in an interesting mood. What’s the plan today? What can I get you?”
It was then that I noticed his friend wasn’t with him. I felt warm suddenly. I wasn’t sure if I was excited or maybe slightly scared of the seriousness. He stared at me for a moment, looked around, maybe to see if anyone was nearby, and he leaned over the counter closer to me. “Hi,” he whispered. I was definitely aroused by something. His closeness? The smell of his earthy cologne? The slight greying stubble on his face? He was attractive, tempting to touch.
“Hello,” I whispered back, butterflies in my tummy.
“Do you want to wrestle?” He asked me, again.
I froze. Still not knowing what he meant by this weird term, I looked at him, shyly… I felt wetness seep into my undies. *Oh*.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Of course I do.”
“Ok,” He said, looking into me, “My name is John. Here’s my card,” sliding it across the counter. “ I don’t think you get out until 2, but I cancelled my afternoon. Don’t go to reception. Just go straight to my office.”
Wide-eyed, I said “Ok.” And I tucked his card in my back pocket.
He stood up straight, gave me a David Bowie grin, and walked out the door. He didn’t even get breakfast. My heart was pounding.
The day went by excruciatingly slow. I was excited. I had never been with an older man. I didn’t know what to think. Or what to do. *Im not very experienced*, I thought.. *I like to think I’m good at sucking dick, probably because I like doing it. I haven’t had any complaints anyway. And I’d sure like to know what his cum tastes like.* My panties were quite damp by the time my shift ended. I had tried to freshen up in the bathroom once 2 o clock came. When I pulled my undies down, they were so wet I had to almost peel them from the lips of my pussy. *There’s nothing I can do about this. I hope he doesn’t mind.*
I finally looked at the card. He’s a doctor. He works right in town. It takes two minutes to get there. I don’t even know if he’s married. I’m assuming yes. What do I do? What if I can’t perform to his want? *Yeah, right, like that actually mattered.*
I drive there. It’s a huge office building with a revolving door. I step in and can see my reflection. Boots, jeans, round ass, belt. I removed my apron and visor in the car, changed my shirt to a tiny, low-cut black tank top. And just now, I loosened the messy bun in my hair and boastfully let it fall past my shoulders and curl around my boobs. I press and lick my lips to brighten them a little. I never did like the feeling of lipstick or chapstick. My black eye make-up was starting to smudge from the warm day. I don’t mind the just-fucked look of it though.
I hold the card and look for the office door. *117*. I see the reception and contemplate asking for directions. *Not a good idea.* I wander around until I find his name. His office is down a hall, a few doors down… Do I knock?
I don’t. I go in and close the door behind me. It’s a small room, no windows, a small seating area and there’s another office door on the far wall. It’s open and I can see him, *John*, sitting there, looking down and working on something at his desk. There are windows behind him but the shades are pulled closed, making the room dim. His jacket is off and his button shirt is blue. The top is undone, exposing a small amount of peppery hair on his chest. It’s nice to see him a little more relaxed. *I wonder how fast I can change that.* I step in, silent, shy. I close the door behind me.
“You found it”, he said with a charming smile, “That’s great. Come right here.” He gestured to the side of him, where he swiveled his chair to turn and face me. He didn’t stand, only opened his arms for me stand in front of him. My height made it almost awkward to be looking down at him.
“Wow,” he said. “You’ve been blessed to have a body like that. It’s nice to see you out of that apron.”
I didn’t say anything. At this point I know what he wants and I step forward, between his legs and push a knee to his groin. My belt and my hips meet his face and I shift my shirt up slightly, my tummy touching his lips. I hear him breathe and I run my fingers through his hair, I trace the collar of his shirt, pressing gently, hinting him forward.
His right hand touches my left leg, behind my thigh, and slides upward. I wiggle and laugh nervously, I can feel him growing against my knee and my panties are suddenly dampened. Again.
“Gosh, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he began, “It’s so hard to talk to you when Dave (his work partner) is around. He’s always telling me not to but I just can’t help it. You’re so beautiful and funny too. And you look at me with those eyes and sway that svelte body when you walk…” I remember wondering what the hell svelte meant and made a note to look it up later. *Who uses that word*. He rambled on, I’m thinking *maybe he talks when he’s nervous*, as he slid his other hand up my other thigh, and gently squeezed my ass with both hands. I arched back and placed my hands on his shoulders, smiling down at him. He groaned and sat back in his chair, made a *tsk tsk* sound and shook his head at me. Letting my arms fall to my sides, I felt my entire body get hot. I’m excited but I don’t know what’s happening or what to do. “So, I’m here.” I say awkwardly and hold up my hands in a ‘now what’ gesture. I can’t believe how nervous I am. I had never been this nervous with someone before. Was it his age? His confidence? I’d probably let him do whatever he wanted with me. He replied, “You, little miss, sure are right here. What am I going to do with you?”
He sat forward and moved some things around on his desk, then he looked to me and moved his hands up and over my ass again, pulling me a little closer, maneuvering me in front of him (the desk behind me), then traced his fingers along my belt line, along my lower back, all the way to the front. He looked up, smiled, and asked if I was okay with this.
*Okay with this…*. I’m not sure anyone had ever asked me that before. I nodded and he unbuckled me, undid my button, and unzipped my pants. He was quick with his movements. His strong hands, more aged than any of the boys I had been with, more gentle than I anticipated. I felt alive, full of want for him,*this man is going to take care of me*, my panties were sopping at the thought.
I made a sound like a sigh and ran my fingers through his hair again as he nibbled the front edge of my undies. He slid my pants down, traced his fingers at the edges of my lacy boy-cut panties along the top, over my hips, toward my back, and then along the bottom parts where my roundness plumps out at the brim, and then to the front, tickling me. His gentleness sent a rush of heat and excitement through me. I may have hopped a little.
I could tell he was excited too. His bulge was firm and looked uncomfortable in those slacks. My hands were on his shoulders but I wanted to touch him more. I wanted to free his cock from its restraint. He seemed to enjoy taking me in though, running his hands over me and biting his lip, and I didn’t want to interrupt. He began to lift my shirt and I slipped it off for him, intentionally stumbling forward, my body folding and pressing against him, his hands caught my waist and he laughed, my breasts in his face, my hand found his bulge and he called me a feisty little thing. He slid his hands up my back and undid my bra. Sliding it off and running his hands over me again, handling my c-sized tits, running his thumbs over my -now firm- nipples, he half-smiled and inhaled me. A low growl sound of “mmm” and he slid his hands down, straightening me to steady myself. Touching my tummy, he carefully guided me to turn around and bend over the desk. I rested on my forearms and looked behind me for a moment.
My ass was in his face. I wiggled and spread my legs wider, my jeans and boots prevented me from going too far, but enough so that my cheeks perked and the boy-short skivvies slid up a little and gave me a wedgie.
A low groan from the man behind me, and he smacked my ass. Not too hard, but a good -perfected- slap sound, and a slight sting. He slid my undies down, slow and to my knees. He pressed his right fingers down my lower back and over my crack, smoothing me over with both hands and spread out my cheeks. *Oh*, I felt fully exposed. My ass hole was cold in the air and the puff of my shaved pussy, dewy from desire, felt poised. My heart was pounding and I could feel it deep inside me, where I wanted him.
“I see someone’s excited,” he said.
I responded with a wiggle, and the sound he made told me he was smiling.
I turned to look at him, he reached his left hand to my face, my cheek, and gave me a gentle stare. Then he diverted his attention to my ass. He pressed his left thumb to my asshole. *Oh gosh, no one’s ever touched me there before.* I felt my body stiffen and he told me to relax, to breathe. Caressing my ass with his right hand, he waited for my body to soften. And then he licked me, slow, his tongue spreading the lips of my squishiness all the way up to my asshole, paying extra attention and swirling his thumb around. *Whoa* I let out a deep exhale and he licked me again, from pussy to ass… so… slow. I was pulsating. Thumbing the surface of my ass hole with his left, he took his right fingers (ring and middle, I think), slid them up and down my dampened crack, sending a heated shiver through me. He forced them into my warm, wet, slit of a honey pot and I moaned. I almost lost my balance. He moved his left hand to my tummy, and began to work his right hand, (picture the sign language term for ‘I love you’), pushing in and sliding out almost completely, pushing in again… *This guy knows what he’s doing* I made a whimpering moan, I had no choice and grabbed onto the desk. *Oh, wow* He was slapping my pussy a little faster now, squishing and sliding over and over. The sound of sloppy wetness filled the room, along with deep sighs and soft moans. *Oh my god.. someone’s going to hear me*. I could feel the curve of his fingers hitting my spot. The probe of his movements reverberated through me. I was shuddering and my skin was hot and starting to seep. And he must have known, he had to force himself harder.. “Yes. That’s it, honey.” His deep voice said. And I moaned sharp and held my breath. My entire body tensed, my insides were clenching him and he kept forcing them into me.. “Oh wow,” I said out loud with a breathless moan, and I felt myself burst and pour messily over his hand. He stayed inside me for another moment, slowing down, as I loosened my grip of the desk and rested my head. He slid his fingers out and licked them. “Oh, honey,” he said. Then he licked me again, from my soaked pussy up to my asshole.
He stood up. He undid his belt now and slid everything down. Smacking my ass, and spreading me out again, I felt his hot, warm cock rest on my crack. I realized his age wasn’t the main reason for his confidence. His hot precum dribbled right onto my asshole and I wiggled. I wanted it so bad I could already feel him. My insides were clenching for him, desperate..*Oh shit.. I’m going to cum*. Holding my ass, he rested his cock between my cheeks and rocked there slowly. I began to move, bouncing a little, trying to get his attention.
“I want you inside me,” I said, breathlessly. *Please*
Skimming over my slippery pussy and ass, he said, “I don’t know, sweetie. Do you think that’s a good idea?”
It didn’t matter just yet. My body was already squeezing nothing but the anticipation of him. I let out a high pitched moan, then sudden silence, and grabbed onto the desk. My insides clenched as the honey of my orgasm drizzled from my slit and down my thighs.
He let out a “Well, fuck,” and confirmed, “Now you’re going to get it.”
The next thing I know, he flips me over and I’m on my back. My boots and jeans are in the air, and he’s pulling my hips toward him, bringing my round ass just over the edge of his desk. I bend my legs a little toward me. I hold onto my boots. He grabs my ass, slides his hands to my hips, doesn’t wait for me to calm my breathing, and directs his dick over my wet slit. I close my eyes. And he forces and slides every inch of his hot cock deeeeep inside my pulsating cunt. I cry out a strange sound. *Oh fuck.* He covers my mouth with one hand, with his other he presses my legs down onto me, he brings his dick almost out, and slams into me again. A pang that makes my insides quiver, tightening around his shaft. And he does it again. Slides almost out and thrusts hard, back into my hot cunt. My arms release and grasp for something to hold onto, him, his shirt, the edge of the desk. And he moves. Faster now. Pumping into my wetness, a squelching engrained into my memory. My muffled squeals ricochet from the pounding of his pulsing cock. He grabs my ass underneath, spreads me open a little more and keeps moving. I hug my legs close to me. Thrust after thrust, the lips of my pussy slip and glide over the length of him. The drive of his dick against my sweet spot makes me tighten as the tickle of my orgasm surges up and through me, my entire body is radiating a fast pulse of heat and uncontrollable shaking. My mouth groans under his hand. My cunt clamps his cock, seizing for his nectar. I sharply inhale. That sweet silence. My body writhes. And I gush, overflowing around his shaft. Another thrust in me and then he quickly pulls out and begins to slide up and down the surface of my pussy. He gasps, or maybe it was a grunt.. *oh fuck no* I clamber to try and sit up, dizzy and throbbing all over, trying to get him to stop, but I’m defeated and collapse back down. “Wait.” I say, out of breath, “I want you in my mouth. I have to taste you.” But it’s too late. John is holding my hips, cradling his pussy-glistened cock over my puffy tenderness, sliding forward and back in a quick motion that extracts his explosive stream over my clit and up my belly. A hot milky mess that leaves him breathless, timid, and satisfied. He groans and collapses in his chair, breathing heavily. A deep chuckling and a smile emerges. “Oh, fuck,” he said, “You are exquisite.”
I sit up. He has cum on the hem of his blue shirt, I’m not sure whose it is. His cum begins to drip down me and I grab some tissues from the corner of his desk. I try to clean up but not before rubbing some of it into my skin and over my fingers. I stare at him and slowly take my fingers into my mouth. Tasting him. Swallowing the little bit of it. I trace my lips and smile, I tell him, “I like it,”
“You would have swallowed me.” He said.
“Of course. I tried to tell you.”I replied.
“Well, we might just have to do this again.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
A few minutes pass and I stand, stumbling.. *what the fuck did he do to me* Bracing myself on the desk, I pull up my clothes and fasten them. I find my bra and shirt and situate myself. My hair is a mess and I feel wobbly all over.
“Will you remember to get breakfast tomorrow?” I tease.
He laughed, putting his own clothes back in place. Tucking in the cum spot of his shirt. “You noticed. I guess I was a little excited,” he smiled.. *that smile* “I’ll see you tomorrow, yes.”
We said our goodbyes and I waved to him awkwardly as I walked out the door. *I can’t believe that just happened*
I have to say there’s nothing quite like that sex-high: the haze and shakiness, the glow, the after effects of a good fucking. Trying to act normal and bid the receptionist a good day amused me.

.

But that’s pretty much where it ends. We went back to teasing each other in the mornings. We never hooked up again, but we flirted and teased each other about “wrestling” as though nothing changed between us. He’d still wink at me, which seemed to hold a different meaning. The idea of a secret had turned into an actuality worthy of the trust that came with that wink.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8vdjv7/panera_adventures_wrestling_the_older_customer