Song of a Baker

There’s wheat in the fields, slut, there’s water in the stream. We will go down thee and I will have you in all your filthy sluttery. You will kneel amidst the ripening crop and I, head high to the blades,  will take you from behind as you sink into the rich cloying earth.  Then I will lie on my back and I you can come down on me

Pat a cake pat a cake baker man bake me a cake as fast as you can and when you have finished hurry up to the flat and take me, fill me with moist springy cake, fill me till ready to burst with the work of your hands. And then, my little baker man, you will come down on me and eat me out, yes eat me out, fill your face with that sponge steeped in my juices. Kiss me and fill my mouth with chewed mushy cake. Spit the rest out over my boobs and lick it greedily off.  And them fuck me, fuck me hard

I will decorate you with dough, a little bun on each nipple,  a bite sized chunk on your clit and take a photograph. I will post it on that website we use where you are The Baker’s Wife The Greedy Bitch Who Wants to Have Her cake and Eat it. And the finished scones we will take to the club next week, and there you will lie on the table covered in scones and jam and cream and every single one must l be eaten off you. Then I will fuck you, fuck you right there on the crumbs and the jam and the cream. Our bodies will fuse in sweetness and you will taste salt. Then I will invite anyone who wants you to join the queue to fuck you, you who will be strapped down, legs apart. One after the other they will take you. Greedy girl. You will have your cake and eat it.

Oh baker man oh baker man who has made me a slut from a slave to cake, my baker man whose cock never fails to rise like the yeasty dough in your kitchen. Oh baker man I thank you for each cock you have allowed in my cunt, each cock I have had in my mouth and tasted and enjoyed as I enjoy your cakes. I thank you for the come I drink every day. Oh baker man, my baker man, I thank you most of all for the mornings when, sated with sex and refreshed by sleep, I come down for breakfast and gorge myself on the most sensual delight of all, your soft crusty bread, fresh from the oven.

Bake Day 2

He took me by surprise. I had just lifted the fruit cake out of the oven and was about to ladle the sponge cake batter into the second tin I had prepared when he came into the kitchen, stood behind me and held my wrist, not roughly but firmly enough to stop me working.

“Sinful Sunday tomorrow” he said. “I’m going to take a pic of you as my cake lady. But before I do…”

He reached under my skirt and pulled down my panties.

After a quick application of margarine from the tub his finger began exploring my cunt.

“Not now” I said half resisting “I am trying to bake.”

“You have baked. How many cakes do we need?”

“Charity bake day at work on Monday” I replied, the upward inflection in my voice betraying my uncertainty of my own arguments as two fingers propped deeply. I was wet.

“The second cake won’t need baking. I have always liked uncooked batter. Did you lick the spoon as a child?”

I gasped as he probed deeper and began to stimulate my clit with his other hand.

“Stop it, I’m trying to work, I’m trying to…”

He worked my clit harder and began to nibble my earlobes.

“Stop it…seriously I need to

He pushed his finger deeper into my wet cunt.

“Actually just fuck me.

I leant forward so that my hair dangled in the wet batter and he lifted up my skirt and I felt him go in. Our kitchen quickies are always hard and rough which is just  how I like them and he was soon finished finishing with a hard thrust that nearly pushed my face into a kitchen cabinet. I came with a moan and he stepped back spent and panting, fumbling to move his foreskin back into place. I stood up and felt his come seeping out of me and running down my leg.

“Get on the table”

I took my clothes off and lay on the table. He spooned the rich batter over me, massaging the mixture deliciously around my crotch, then kneading my breasts  with sticky cakey hands before standing back admire his handiwork. He washed his hands in the sink then took his phone and took a picture of me, lying there in batter, desperate for more of him.

He showed me the picture he had uploaded onto our blog, with the Sinful Sunday logo beneath it, inviting us to click and see the other sexy pics our fellow bloggers had posted..

Then he stripped, and came down on me licking the batter if my tits, off my stomach before burying his face in my crotch, working me with his greedy tongue. He moved his mouth towards mine and we kissed, the sloppy batter passing between us. .

Then he fucked me again until we were both a mass of batter and sweat and come and pussy juice.

I had a feeling we were going to enjoy showering together. And then I thought how thoughtful it had been of me to bake two cakes.

“I bet the fruit cake will be cold by now won’t it?” he said. “I’ll put the kettle on. I’m dying for a cuppa.”