Violet left the café on the errand she most enjoyed, going to the bakery a few blocks away that made their croissants and bread. They made their own cakes at the café but bread they bought in.
The reason Violet enjoyed the errand is that there was a young man who worked at the bakery to whom she was strongly attracted. She wasn’t often attracted to men, usually it was women that got her attention, but it did happen occasionally. However, she didn’t really know what to do about it. With women she would seduce them, sometimes subtly over a long period of time, sometimes aggressively if she wasn’t certain to see them regularly again. But with men she wasn’t really sure how to behave. She would become painfully shy. She didn’t even know the man at the bakery’s name, she’d never dared ask. “Baker-boy” she called him to herself as she stood there coyly picking up her order and hoping that he’d suddenly ask for her phone number out of the blue.
He wasn’t always there. He was some sort of apprentice so sometimes he’d be helping serve in the shop, but sometimes he’d be in the back presumably baking bread. But going there every day, Violet knew that if she went when they were at their most busy then he would likely be in the store. Like a shy teenager, she timed her visits with military precision to maximize her chance of meeting him. But then, like a shy teenager, she didn’t have the confidence to move the conversation to a more personal level.
He was always civil and friendly with her, and she thought she caught him looking at her a couple of times. Looking at her in that special way that people do when someone they are attracted to is around and when they think they are not being watched.
Violet had never had sex with a man. She had never ruled it out and she knew that if Baker-boy pressed her then she’d submit. In fact he didn’t need to press her, he just needed to show some interest and she was his.
Violet would lie in bed at night fantasizing about having sex with Baker-boy as her finger conducted the orchestra of her genitals, bringing the music through the quiet slow movement to a loud thunderous climax. Of course, since she’d never had sex with a man she wasn’t entirely sure what it would be like, but over the years she’d had sex with several women, seen enough straight porn, and had enough sex-toys inside her body that she was confident she had a pretty good idea.
Baker-boy was there today. He chatted to her, just small talk but to her it was like some sort of romantic love poetry. Then, as she turned to go, he had disappointingly, but unsurprisingly, not asked her for her phone number again.
Back at the café Violet made scones. Sometimes her scones came out really well, moist and flaky, and sometimes they didn’t, dry and tough. Suddenly Violet had an idea. Tomorrow she’d ask Baker-boy about making scones. She’d always focused on the boy part without thinking that the baker part might be the way to get something started with him.
Next day when she went to pick up the bread Baker-boy went and brought the bag with her order.
“Can I ask you a baking question?” Violet said.
“Of course,” Baker-boy replied.
“I make scones at the café and some days the are really good and other days they…we’ll they’re not good at all. What do you think I’m doing wrong?”
“What sort of fat are you using?”
“Butter.”
“And what sort of flour?”
“Just regular flour. Not bread flour or anything.”
“That all sounds right. Maybe you are handling the dough too much. That can make it tough.”
“I’ll try handling it less then. I’m going to make some this evening.”
Violet took a deep breath and willed her courage not to fail her.
“Give me your phone number so I can call you if I’m still having trouble.”
And he gave it to her, just like that. Violet was floating on air as she walked back to the café with the bread. She hadn’t yet hatched a plan as to how to seduce Baker-boy, but at least with his phone number she could contact him, could flirt with him, could invite him to…what, she hadn’t worked out yet.
That night she really was going to make a batch of scones. She got the ingredients weighed out and was about to mix the wet ingredients with the dry when she had an idea. She grabbed her phone and dialed Baker-boy’s number. He answered almost immediately. She was about to introduce herself when she realized he didn’t know her name.
“Hi, it’s Violet…the scone girl.”
He laughed. “Hi scone girl. What are you doing?”
“Would you believe I’m making scones. I wondered if you’d give me a little lesson. I assume you’ve finished for the day at the bakery.”
“Yes, bakers work funny hours. We start at 4.30am but we don’t work late.”
“Are you nearby? Could you come over?”
“I suppose…” he said doubtfully.
“I’ll open you a beer,” Violet pleaded.
“Are you finished when you’ve made the scones?”
“Yes.”
“Then here’s the deal. We’ll make the scones. Then you take me out for a beer afterwards.”
“Deal,” said Violet.
Violet put her phone down. She sat down since she was worried she was going so weak at the knees she’d not be able to stand. She had butterflies fluttering between her legs at the possibilities. She was going to be alone with Baker-boy. She was going on a date with Baker-boy. He must surely be interested or he’d not have suggested going for a beer later.
Violet kept looking at the clock, wondering when Baker-boy would get there. Finally he knocked on the door to the café. She let him in. She wanted to grab him, kiss him, wrap her arms around him. But instead she just led him to the kitchen.
Baker-boy took the bowl on the food-processor and emptied the flour onto the worktop.
“To make good scones,” he said, “you need to use your fingers not a machine. You have to feel the dough.”
He picked up the plate with the chopped-up butter and put it on top of the flour.
“Come here,” he ordered her. She felt his hands on her hips as he stood behind her and positioned her at the board. He reached around her and started to work the butter into the flour. “Like this,” he said quietly in her ear. “Now you do it.”
Violet reached out and took a lump of cold butter and rubbed the flour into it.
“That’s right. You have to be gentle. You have to make your scones with love.”
He took her hands in his and pressed the lumps of buttery flour between her fingers. “Pastry is like a woman. It has to be treated gently with just the right hint of firmness.” He wondered if he knew she was a lesbian, that she’d had her own share of treating women with just the right firmness, or if he was just murmuring sexily in her ear. Either way she could feel the wetness developing between her legs.
Violet’s heart was beating fast as Baker-boy’s fingers slid across her hands and he whispered about love. Violet wanted to feel his fingers on her. Her nipples were aching to be touched, already hard enough she was worried they must be pushing through her bra. She was aching to feel his baker’s fingers treat her gently with just a hint of firmness.
Gradually the dough came together as the two of them worked the fat into the flour. She moved back a little so that her back was against Baker-boy’s chest, enjoying the subdued strength of his masculine chest, so different from the soft pillows when a woman pressed against her back.
“Enough,” Baker-boy said suddenly. “If you do too much they’ll be tough. You just want to tease it, flirt with it, not go all the way.”
He picked up the jug and poured a tiny amount of water onto the flour.
“Now finish it off, gently. It is like a woman’s body. The lighter your touch the better it is.”
He took her hands and gathered the dough into a rough lump until it was ready.
“Now it has become like a man,” he laughed. “It needs to rest before it will be ready for more. Put it in the refrigerator.”
Violet wrapped the scone dough in plastic wrap and put it to cool. Baker-boy came up behind her so that when she turned away from the refrigerator they were facing each other. The tension in the air was electric. Violet could hardly breathe. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She moved slightly forward to kiss him and then had a loss of confidence and stopped, worried she might be rejected. But she worried needlessly since Baker-boy immediately bent forward a little and their lips touched lightly.
He pulled away for a moment. “You taste good, scone-girl,” he said, and bent forward to kiss her again, harder this time. Violet moved her lips in encouragement. At least she knew how to kiss. She felt his hand on her side gently stroking her, just a light touch from the same fingers that had delicately made the scones. As the kiss went on, her tongue slipped forward seeking his. Their tongues touched. She felt his hand slide higher, softly stroking the side of her breast through her bra.
One hand slid completely onto her breast as his other hand slid down her back to her ass. She could feel the hard point of her nipple pressed into his palm. He pulled her hips forward against him. Suddenly she realized she could feel his hard cock pressed against her. She’d never felt a cock before. Of course she’d seen plenty of porn, she knew what a cock was like, even knew roughly what she was meant to do with it.
As Baker-boy gently kneaded her breast as if it were a special delicate dough, she reached down undid a button on his shirt and slid a hand onto his skin. It was the first time she’d really touched a man. He had just a little hair on his chest, which was an unusual feeling for her, more used to the swell of a firm breast.
He stepped back away from her. The fact that she’d unbuttoned his shirt seemed to give him permission to unbutton hers. He started at the top and slowly undid each button, confident that she wouldn’t stop him. The back of his fingers sent quivers of pleasure where they pressed against first her breasts and then the skin of her stomach. He undid the button on her pants. For a moment she panicked, worried he was going too fast. She wasn’t yet ready for him to go…down there. Yet. She knew she would be but, despite the throbbing wetness inside her panties, she also knew she needed more time to get relaxed about it. But he was only undoing the button to make it easy to pull her shirt free.
He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, caught it and put it on the counter. She was unsure whether she was meant to undo her bra for him but he reached behind her and with one hand unclipped it in a single smooth movement. That single little movement told her with relief that she knew he was experienced with women, that he would lead her, that he would know his way around her body. He didn’t know it but he would be her guide to straight sex. He pulled her bra off her arms so that now she was naked from the waist up.
“Beautiful breasts, scone girl,” he whispered as he moved his hand up underneath stroking the underside of her breast, gradually approaching the brown circle of her areola and the sensitive erect point of her nipple. He bent down and slowly put his mouth to her breast, very gently taking her nipple between his teeth and flicking the end of it with her tongue. It was as if it was wired straight to her clit and she couldn’t stop herself from moaning with pleasure.
While he took one nipple into his mouth he caressed the sensitive underside of her other breast with his baker’s fingertips. His fingers circled her other nipple, gradually growing closer until they were circling on the rougher areola. Suddenly he pinched her nipple. He didn’t pinch hard but it was such a surprise she yelped as another jolt of arousal shot down to her pussy.
She stepped back, pulled her hand out of his shirt and undid the buttons on his shirt slowly. In a moment his chest was bare too. She ran her fingers over his chest, enjoying the muscles, powerful from kneading bread dough every day. Her fingers slid lower, down over his stomach, onto his jeans. She ran her fingertips over where his cock was bulged, outlined underneath the blue cotton. It felt huge, bigger than any vibrator she could remember. She started to stroke him uncertainly, not really sure what would feel best to him through the thick denim.
Things were moving fast and she wasn’t really sure of what she was meant to do and when, as she would be with a woman. She considered telling him she’d never been with a man before but then she thought would make her too self-conscious, not to mention she wondered if it might scare him off.
“Do you want me to…” Violet said, before suddenly stopping, not sure what words to use. “Do you want me to lick you?”
“Do you like doing that?”
“I love it,” Violet lied, hoping she’d be able to carry it off.
She knelt down in front of Baker-boy and undid the buckle of his belt and the button of his jeans. He pushed his jeans down and they fell around his ankle. Violet could see the outline of his cock in his underwear now. She gently eased the waistband over his cock and let it fall to join his jeans. His cock stuck out straight at her. She reached up and wrapped her hand around it. It was different from what she expected, hard inside but soft on the outside, the skin moving almost freely over the rigid core. She ran her tongue up the underside of the cock. Baker-boy groaned with pleasure. She opened her mouth and ran her tongue around the cockhead as if she were tasting a novel flavor of ice-cream, which in a way, she was.
She started to stroke the shaft of his cock like she’d seen in porno movies, while she licked the head of his cock with her tongue. She tried to take him deeper into her mouth but she gagged before his cockhead was in the back of her throat. She moved her other hand and caressed his balls, feeling their weight in their rough-skinned ball-sack. He felt completely different from a woman, of course. The texture of his skin was different, the hardness of his large cock was unique. Of course a clit got hard too, but it is so tiny it is not the same thing at all, a pimple compared to something that was longer than her fist. She pumped his cock a few more times as she explored its hard ridges with the tip of her tongue, such a different feeling from a woman’s soft folds.
Baker-boy bent down and pulled her to her feet. He squatted in front of her, undid the button on her pants and pulled them down. She kicked off her sandals and stepped out of them, now dressed in just her panties. She wished she’d worn something more sexy but it hadn’t crossed her mind that she might have sex today when she got dressed that morning. He leant forward and kissed her stomach and then gradually kissed lower until he was kissing her panties, first where her pubic hair was hidden and, finally, lower where the cotton wrapped around the bulge of her lips. She felt his kisses on her fleshy outer lips, felt his tongue seeking the start of her cleft.
Then his hands were at the side of her panties. She resisted her almost automatic reaction to stop him, to grab them, to pull them up, to preserve the last cover to her modesty. No man had ever seen her naked, no man had been so close to her pussy. He slowly pulled her panties down and dropped them to her ankles. She kicked them away, now totally naked.
She moved her feet apart, offering herself to him, surprised she was no longer the least bit reserved. His tongue gently touched the soft petals of her inner lips sending sparks through her. She reached down and spread her outer lips exposing her clit for him. The tip of his tongue touched it and little explosions of pleasure detonated as he circled her tiny sensitive pearl. She felt one of his fingers between her inner lips, seeking her entrance, as he aroused her eager clit. Slowly he pushed a finger into her tight wetness. She was surprised how similar it felt to being licked by a woman. He knew what to do with his tongue, he’d clearly done this many times before. Violet felt relief that she didn’t have to give him a lesson in female anatomy to get satisfaction, as she’d heard straight girlfriends complain about. She was starting to get very aroused, close to coming.
“Oh yes, baker boy,” she moaned quietly.
Her hips started to rock with a will of their own, rubbing her clit over the roughness of his tongue. He started to slowly fuck her with his finger while his tongue danced on her clit. She was nearly coming. She knew he knew that, that he wouldn’t stop until she climaxed. The last little bits of arousal inched up to the edge of the cliff, and then she was falling, lost in total pleasure as her body was consumed with the heat of her orgasm. He stopped licking her clit and coaxed the last waves of pleasure with the finger inside her.
He stood up and looked around. “Sit in that chair,” he said, “and pull your knees up.”
She moved across to the chair, pulled up her knees and spread her thighs as wide as she could. Baker-boy knelt in front of her. This was it, the last step. She was really going to fuck a man.
She felt the head of his cock between her lips. He moved it up and down, spreading her juices. Then he positioned it so that it nestled just in the opening of her cunt. She felt herself tense up slightly anticipating his entry into her body. Slowly he pushed forward and slid a short way into her. She felt very tight around him. His flesh felt very different from a hard plastic vibrator that was the only vaginal sex she’d had previously. He pulled back and then plunged his hips forward hard, burying himself in her completely. She cried out, partially in surprise and partially at the unanticipated intensity of feeling a man inside her for the first time.
He started to thrust into her, firmly but not roughly. She reached down and touched herself, adding the pleasure of masturbating her clit to the tsunami of excitement that his cock generated inside her cunt with every thrust. He put his hands on her breasts, squeezing her nipples between his outspread fingers. He bent still lower and kissed her. Her body felt completely sexual, Baker-boy’s cock inside her virgin cunt, her own finger on her clit, his fingers on her breasts and his tongue in her mouth.
She could sense that he was close to coming but she wanted to try being fucked from behind. She pushed him gently and he moved. She pulled herself back so that his cock left her, turned around and knelt on the chair offering her ass to him. She knew her pussy would be framed between her thighs, just ripe and ready for him. She felt his cock in her furrow and then he was back inside her, his belly pressed against the cheeks of her ass. It felt different that way, his cock rubbed on the inside of her cunt sparking new jolts of excitement with each movement.
She felt his hands on her ass cheeks, stroking her as his cock hammered powerfully into her cunt. A fingertip slipped into the crack of her ass, slowly descending to the tight star of her asshole. Her body jerked when he touched her there for the first time. She reached underneath herself and started to masturbate again. She wasn’t far from coming and wanted to climax with him.
“Don’t come inside me,” she said, suddenly remembering that lesbians don’t have to worry about birth control. That was all she could say before he pushed his finger roughly into her asshole and immediately her orgasm hit her. Her body exploded in fireworks. She felt her cunt spasming rhythmically on his cock.
He thrust violently into her, long deep rough strokes deep into her cunt. Suddenly he pulled out of her and rested his cock between her cheeks. He groaned and she felt the warmth of his come as the first jets shot onto her ass. She rocked her ass back and forth, stroking his cock, milking him dry. He reached down and rubbed some of his slick jism onto her asshole, something that felt unexpectedly friendly rather than dirty.
He bent forward, resting his chest on her back, his cock still pressed between her ass-cheeks. He reached underneath her and gently cradled her breasts in his hands. He kissed her on the back of her neck and gradually worked his way around to her ear. “I think the dough should be ready now, Violet” he whispered, using her real name for the first time.