Making it in a Man's World

I recognized him as soon as I walked into the office, but tried to keep my cool. Jim Johnson was my idol, my favorite sports writer, and now here I was, recent journalism grad, starting my first day of work at the same paper where he'd spent his career! It was October, I had just graduated from Big State in June, and still had goosebumps from the phone call last week when I learned I'd gotten the job here.

None of my friends understood why I had taken the entry-level job, where I'd likely be stuck listing high school football scores in the back of the sports section for the next two years. I tried to explain that it was the first step towards my dream job - respected beat writer for a major paper, following my favorite team around the country (baseball would be my first choice), scoring free tickets to any sporting event I wanted, and keeping my readers entertained with insightful insider information.

That first day, after introductions and a tour that ended at my ridiculously small cubicle, I decided to be proactive and introduce myself to Jim. He would find out soon enough what an eager beaver I was, so it might as well be today! He waived me into his office and motioned for me to sit down as he finished a phone call, and I took the opportunity to become duly impressed by all of the photos on his walls and memorabilia on his desk. There were photos of Jim with every major sports figure in the city and region - from local high school legends to college and pro stars.

"So," he said, interrupting my awe, "you must be Shannon."

"Yes, Jim, and can I tell you what an honor it is to be working with you!"

"Well, thanks. So, I remember from your application that your dream is to be a beat writer? What makes you think an innocent young girl like yourself is cut out for that?"

I crossed and then re-crossed my legs in my chair, fighting two conflicting emotions before I responded. I was always both offended and turned on when older men challenged my ability to compete in their world. "Well, I know I've got the writing chops. I've followed sports all my life. I love watching the games both on and off the field, and love the way that writers like you are able to share that with your readers. I'd like to do the same, and I think I can if I have the opportunity to learn from the best - maybe I could shadow you for a while?"

A tiny smile formed at the corners of his mouth, obviously flattered by my desire to learn by working with him. "Alright, Shannon. I'll let you shadow me, just a couple of things I'm going to ask of you. Don't open your mouth unless you're sure you know your stuff. And, to be blunt, you should show a little more leg. This is still a man's world, and there's no point in a beautiful young woman refusing to take advantage of her god-given assets. If it helps you land an interview, there's no shame in that."

Again, I found myself getting hot and bothered as he talked to me this way. Jim was probably in his mid 40s, with an attractive, athletic build. He was about 6'1" with blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked at me over his reading glasses as he talked. He was tremendously attractive to me, physically and career-wise. But I also hated being talked to like an innocent little girl. Smoking inside, I politely thanked him for being so generous as to let me shadow him, and made my way out of the office. I knew the only way to handle my conflicting emotions was to take him at his word, take his instructions to heart and take advantage of the opportunity.

The next day, I arrived at work in an outfit chosen in response to Jim's suggestion. In stark contrast to the business suit I had worn for my first day on the new job, today I strutted into the office in a short pleated skirt, a white blouse which was tied around my waist, showing just a bit of skin around my navel, and my blonde hair tied up with a velvet bow into a ponytail. My big blue eyes were framed by glasses which I didn't need, but which I thought added to the look. As soon as I sat down at my desk, my phone rang, and I jumped to answer it when I saw "Johnson, Jim" on the caller-ID. "Yes, sir?"

"Good morning, Shannon, could you please come into my office? Be sure to bring a notepad."

I grabbed a pad of paper, pushed a pencil behind my ear, and made my way into his office. "Close the door behind you," he instructed as I entered the room, and I did as I was told. After looking me up and down for a few moments, he said, "So, took me at my word, did you?"

"Absolutely, Jim. So, what can I do for you this morning."

"Well, since you're obviously so eager to start shadowing me, I wanted to give you the details of your first assignment. I want you to come with me to this weekend's game - Big State vs. State U at the stadium. I can show you around the venue, introduce you to some of the other writers, and you can have the full press box experience."

I was beaming as I scribbled down the information he provided me. This was exactly what I was hoping for - a real behind-the-scenes experience. And it didn't hurt that it was my alma mater and their arch rival. Both teams were playing well this year, so it should be a good contest.

As he stopped talking and I stopped writing a few moments later, I looked up and saw him watching me from behind his desk. Again, as I had yesterday, I crossed and then un-crossed my legs in the chair across from him. His eyes followed every move, watching the pleats of my skirt settle even higher on my legs. He got up, walked around the desk, and leaned against the front of it, just a foot or so in front of me. The bulge in his pants was unmistakable, and I know I blushed, and then blushed redder when I realized he noticed my drifting eyes.

He reached out his hand and gently grazed my knee. My first thought - to keep my legs crossed and ignore his touch - was overwhelmed by my first animal instinct - to uncross my legs and drop to my knees in front of him. As I had entered the office and closed the door, I had noticed that although there were a few windows, they were high enough on the wall that he had some privacy. If I moved quickly and quietly, we wouldn't be caught, even though several dozen reporters buzzed with activity just outside his door.

I quickly undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled his hardening cock out of his boxers. Before he could say a word, I engulfed his length with my mouth, cradling his balls with both hands. I began slowly, licking and sucking a few inches at a time, but soon quickened my pace, encouraged in my motions when he grabbed my ponytail and began forcing me down onto his cock in faster, deeper strokes. I had never allowed a man to grab me by the hair, but somehow with Jim it turned me on all the more, and I went at his cock with gusto. I was now taking his entire length deep into my throat on each stroke, struggling to keep as quiet as I could as he fucked my mouth in the middle of the workday in his office.

It wasn't much longer before he came, allowing his orgasm to come out in hushed whispers. After he finished, he quickly pulled himself together and lifted me up off my knees. Grabbing me by the ass, he pulled my body into his and kissed me passionately, thrusting his tongue into my mouth so quickly I almost couldn't breathe. Still, it was nothing compared to the size of his cock. Breaking away from me as quickly as the embrace had started, he whispered, "you'd better get back to work. I'll see you Saturday at the game. Meet me in the hallway outside the press box." And that was that - after a slap on the ass, I was out the door and back to my cubicle to attend to a little actual work, my head filled with daydreams of sex in the office, at the stadium, anywhere really with this hot mentor of mine.

Time crept by over the next few days, but finally Saturday did arrive, and after tortured wardrobe decisions and getting stuck in traffic, I finally made my way to the stadium, proudly showed my press pass for the first time, and waited in the hallway outside the press box for Jim to arrive. You're wondering about the wardrobe decision? Well, I managed to work out a combination of team colors, reasonably professional attire, but still showing enough skin to bring some attention to the fact that I was a young woman with a nice rack. I chose a low-cut black blouse which showed plenty of cleavage, a team jacket from my college days, and tight-fitting but classy black slacks and heels.

As Jim arrived, he winked in approval at my appearance, and quickly ushered me in to the press box where I experienced a whirlwind of meetings. The names and faces of twenty or so slightly geeky writer types, all seemingly captivated by my chest, quickly blurred together. Jim, perhaps sensing that I was overwhelmed, grabbed my arm midstream and said, "Hey, there's time before the first quarter starts - how about I show you around the stadium?"

"Wow, that was quite a spread in there!" I said as we made our way down the hallway and into an elevator, referring to the ridiculous amount of food that had been provided for the guys in the press box.

"Impressive, huh? Although I have another idea for a nice spread," he said, putting his hand between my legs and forcing them apart. As we rode the elevator down, to where I didn't know, he massaged my clit through my clothes with one hand. With the other, he pushed up my top, pulled one of my tits out of my bra, and began sucking my nipple vigorously. Not knowing how much time we would have before the elevator doors opened, I writhed in pleasure against his skilled hands and mouth.

He obviously knew exactly where we were going, and pulled me back into a state of respectability just seconds before the elevator stopped and opened. Completely flushed, I was suddenly face to face with... the coach! I quickly realized that we must have come down to a lower level of the stadium not open to the public. Jim obviously knew the coach, as they exchanged comfortable conversation and wishes of good luck for the game. True to his promise, Jim took the opportunity to introduce me, sharing with the coach that I was a recent grad. I remembered my promise as well - that I wouldn't open my mouth unless I was sure I knew my stuff - and left the coach with just one comment about the passing game of State U and my estimate for the point spread.

"Nice job, Shannon. I see you're following my advice, and it's already paying off - now the coach will remember you for sure. You're the hot young reporter who knows her football! I think you should be rewarded for your work here today. Follow me."

As we made our way down several winding hallways in the bowels of the stadium, the muffled sounds of marching bands hovering mysteriously above us, Jim told me the story of a secret room to which he had a key. Only a few people knew about it - a handful of press, coaches, etc. - and he had gotten the key from his mentor, a legendary beat writer long-since retired. It was a small room with a bed, a place to crash after perhaps a few too many drinks celebrating a win or lamenting a loss, before heading back out onto the road.

"Unless they've changed the lock..." were Jim's last words before the key successfully opened the door. Like the true gentleman who had just felt me up in the elevator, he showed me into the room, turned on a light, and shut and locked the door behind us.

Only a few words were necessary now. "What was that you mentioned about a nice spread?" I asked flirtatiously. He responded by tearing at my clothes, freeing my tits from my blouse and bra and then sucking my nipples as he worked at removing my pants. I was soon naked, and threw myself onto the bed, spreading my legs wide open before him, revealing my wet pussy. It was now his turn to kneel, as he lowered his head to my crotch and began kissing around my inner thighs, moving in circles ever closer to my pussy lips and finally entering me with his tongue as he spread my lips with his fingers.

Knowing we couldn't be heard in this secluded room, I let myself go, moaning as I ground my pussy into his face. I started to ride a wave of tiny orgasms as he sucked my clit, and he responded by fucking me with two and then three of his big, strong fingers. I couldn't take it anymore, and pulled myself up onto my elbows, saying, "Please, Jim, I want you inside of me. Fuck me now!"

Still fully clothed, but his cock straining against his slacks, Jim stood up and quickly undressed. I massaged my tits and clit with my hands while I waited for him to enter me, telling him I wanted to be his little slut, I wanted him to fill me with his cum before we went back to work in the press box.

He didn't need any more invitation, and knelt by the side of the bed, moving the tip of his cock against my pussy lips. I was insanely hot, wet, and ready, but it was still a tight fit as he slowly pressed his huge hard cock into me. He took what seemed like minutes to enter me completely in one slow, smooth motion. Once his cock was buried inside of me, he began rotating his hips, reaching depths of sensation inside of me that were completely new.

"Oh, god yes, Jim. Fuck me nice and slow." We kept that rhythm going for several minutes, until I couldn't handle it any longer. His stamina was impressive, he was obviously going for the complete-game performance - and my demands changed. "Fuck me harder, Jim. Harder and faster. I want you to take me from behind!"

He quickly pulled out of me and stood up, giving me room to pull myself up off the bed and turn around. The bed was too low, so I instead braced myself against the wall, pressing my hands flat against it, spreading my legs, and looking back over my shoulder at Jim with pure lust. "Take me, Jim, I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to pound my tight little pussy and fill me with your cummm...... ahh...."

With that, he thrust into me from behind and began fucking me furiously. The sounds and smells of our sex filled the tiny room, and quickly brought us both close to the edge of a violent orgasm. He took hold of my hair with one hand and gently slapped me on the ass with the other as he moved in and out of me, taking complete control of the situation just as I'd hoped he would. As he grunted and I moaned, I reached orgasm very quickly in this position, utterly letting go as he continued to pound towards his climax. I trusted the wall and his strong grip on my hair to hold me up as I came close to blacking out, the feelings were so powerful. Just as I began to come down from my orgasm and come back to my senses, he reached his climax and I could feel his cum shoot deep inside of me.

We stood in this position for a while, his cock still buried inside of me as we both caught our breath, me leaning against the wall, Jim leaning against me. We soon became aware of the sounds of the game seeping into the room from above - the pounding of feet on the field, the occasional whistle, more competing melodies from the bands - and realized that we should get upstairs before it was obvious we had disappeared. And before we missed too much of the action. After all, the sex had been great, but what beat writer worth his - or her - salt would miss more than a few downs of the big game?

In the Erotic Bakery

I took the trays from the refrigerator and put them on the counter, and then pulled up a stool and sat down to start my work. First, I carefully placed a 10-inch marzipan cock on a chocolate cake destined for a bachelorette party. Once that was done, I moved on to arranging little candy tits around the edge of a sheet cake whose icing read, "Happy Birthday Bob!"

I was dressed in my usual outfit for working in the kitchen - what Jake liked to call the 'naughty baker': black bra and panties, fishnet hose with garters, and heels, covered by a ridiculously short black lace 'apron'. My long red hair was up in pigtails, and I was wearing glasses which I didn't need, but which Jake assured me added to the look.

Jake would watch me from the corner as I worked, quietly stroking his real man's cock as I arranged suggestive sweets on the top of various cookies and cakes. I would invariably find myself getting wet, knowing that he was watching, deliberately dropping something on the floor so I could bend down and show him my ass. When I had finished preparing the day's orders, he would take me right there in the kitchen, bent over the counter, my eager pussy taking every inch of his cock and draining every drop of cum.

Perhaps I should explain how I went from innocent college girl to back-room slut at the local erotic bakery? I think the best encounter to share is our very first.

"Help Wanted: seeking young woman for bakery assistant, no experience necessary."

That was the sign that caught my eye as I walked from my apartment to campus, trying to figure out how I would pay my next month's rent after losing my job as a waitress. I realized I had passed by this little bakery every morning on my way to school, but never stopped in. Desperate as I was to find another job quickly, I thought to myself 'what the hell' and walked through the door.

I was immediately hit with both the heat of the air and the wonderful smells from the kitchen - bread, cinnamon rolls, chocolate chip cookies, all of the aromas filled the air, a confused but pleasing potpurri.

"What can I get you, sweetie?" said the 40-ish man in a baker's hat from behind the counter. Any suspicion I may have had about the help wanted sign specifying a young woman immediately washed away when I began talking to this obviously gay man.

"Actually, I'm here about the sign in the window - are you still looking for someone?"

"Oh, yes, thanks for coming in. I'm Jonathan, the owner of this little establishment. What's your name?"

"Kaylie. I'm a student at the university, and in desperate need of a job - I was working as a waitress at that Italian Restaurant downtown that just went out of business, you know the one?" He nodded, and I continued, "I've never worked in a bakery, but I do have quite a bit of waitressing and customer service experience."

"No worries, dear. We need someone to start right away, and you're the first to ask about the job, so, consider yourself hired!"

We went over schedules, and it turned out my availability - a few hours early each morning and then again late in the afternoon after classes - was exactly what they needed. Jonathan explained that he and his partner Jake, who I'd be able to meet that afternoon, were starting to fall behind now that the bakery was becoming more successful. They needed someone to work with customers in the front both early and late in the day as they handled things in the kitchen.

When I first met Jake, his piercing blue eyes and five-o-clock shadow immediately began to melt me, before I reminded myself that he was Jonathan's partner, and pulled myself together. I'd been burned enough times before - how did that saying go, all the best guys are either married or gay? Anyway, it was immediately obvious that these were very nice, hard-working guys, and I was glad to have the job. That first afternoon, they showed me around the place, made sure I knew what they expected, and after helping a few customers, I went home.

I quickly settled into a routine with the new job. Jonathan and Jake appreciated my punctuality and work ethic, and I enjoyed their sense of humor and the laid-back work environment. It was a nice clientele, too - lots of foot traffic off the street, but also many regular customers who came in to pick up pre-ordered cakes and cookies. I didn't even get to see what was in the boxes, because Jonathan was a stickler about tying things up with ornate bows.

I had been working there about three weeks when the guys left me alone and in charge for an afternoon while they were out running errands. "Don't worry, you'll be fine - it should be a quiet afternoon, and we trust you!" was what Jonathan said quickly as they left, the door shutting quickly and leaving me alone in the quiet warmth of the bakery.

They were right, it was a quiet afternoon. I had actually pulled out a book to do a little studying when Mrs. Smith came in - one of the regular customers I mentioned earlier. "Hello, Mrs. Smith, what can I do for you?"

"Hi Kaylie, nice to see you again! There should be a box waiting for me?"

"Oh, hmm... I'm alone this afternoon, and they didn't mention anything, but let me go in back and see if I can find it."

It wasn't like Jonathan to forget about a customer's order, so I was sure I would find a lovely wrapped box. As I entered the back room, I did find a box with a post-it on which was scrawled 'Mrs. Smith', but it looked like Jonathan hadn't done his nice wrapping job yet. Oh well, I wouldn't keep her waiting, I'd bring it to her as is.

As I walked back out front with the box, I realized it was my chance to take a peek at one of their creations - since I never got to see the custom cakes. It was lucky that I didn't drop it when I opened the box! There, on top of what looked like a delicious chocolate cake, was a penis, at least 10 inches long! After a moment of total shock, I gathered myself as much as possible, closed up the box again, and took it out to Mrs. Smith, making the sale and wishing her a nice weekend.

After the door closed behind her, I allowed my thoughts to whirl again. I wasn't offended, just shocked. Did all of the wrapped boxes contain cock cakes, or was it just that one? Was their innocent store front, selling loaves of bread and oatmeal cookies to folks who dropped in off the street, just a front for their erotic bakery? Overcome by curiousity, I decided to take the opportunity, with Jonathan and Jake still not back, to go back into the kitchen and do more exploration. If a customer came in, I'd hear the bell on the door and could quickly come back out front. My studying could wait - this mystery was more pressing at the moment!

There were a couple of other boxes on the table where I had found Mrs. Smith's, so I tried those first. Nothing exciting - one was cookies, and the other was a cake with a lovely, but completely non-erotic, birthday message. Hmm. The fridge? As I opened the door to the big, restaurant-sized refrigerator, I realized I'd hit the jackpot. First, I was confronted with a tray full of breasts. On the shelf below that, some exquisitely carved pussies. And on the very bottom, cocks of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Wow, I had never before been simultaneously turned on and hungry! The aroma was distinct - the suggestive tidbits were all carved from marzipan.

I quickly ran out front to see if anyone was coming, and then just as quickly made my way back to the kitchen again, the refrigerator door still open. I knelt down so that I was eye-level with the tray of cocks, and slowly reached out to grab a small one, thinking I could rearrange the others on the tray and nobody would notice one missing.

With the stolen cock in one hand, I shut the refrigerator door with the other and walked over to the counter, where I found some chocolate syrup still sitting where Jonathan had obviously been using it to decorate some of his most recent creations. I drizzled a bit of the chocolate onto the end of the marzipan cock - marzipan and chocolate had always been one of my favorite combinations - and slowly sunk my teeth into the delicacy. As I savored the delicious flavor combination, I was slightly surprised at the combination of feelings running through my body - not only was I hungry for more, I was also turned on by the imagery, sliding this sweet little cock into my mouth.

Before I knew what was happening, I felt an arm around my waist, and a familiar voice in my ear. I spun around, shocked that I hadn't heard anyone come in, and was face-to-face with Jake. "I see you've discovered the loot," he said, a quirky little smile on his face.

Completely embarrassed for several reasons, I stammered, attempting to explain and apologize all at once. He responded by putting a finger to my lips.

"Don't worry, Kaylie, I'm not upset. We shouldn't have kept you in the dark for so long. As you've obviously discovered, Jonathan and I are actually running an erotic bakery. We sell custom cakes and cookies both here in the bakery and also online. But in a town like this, we'd never be able to hang up a shingle proclaiming what we do, so we have to do things kind of under the radar. I hope you'll still be willing to work here?"

"Oh, absolutely - I'm not offended by this stuff. In fact, I have to admit, I was turned on by finding all of those cocks in the refrigerator!" Again, I found myself saying something to Jake that I never would have said to another man, because I knew he was gay.

"You tried one of the small ones?" When I nodded, he quickly walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out one of the larger marzipan cocks - almost life-sized - and brought it back to me. "You should really try one of these, we put nuts in the bigger ones."

Before I could stop him, he was feeding it to me, shoving the candy-sweet cock into my mouth. As he did this, his other hand dropped to my thigh, his fingers tracing their way under my short skirt until his hand was on my panties. I gasped, the marzipan rod still in my mouth, but couldn't help but respond to his touch.

"I see you're already wet. How would you like a real cock in your mouth?" He pulled the sweet treat out of my mouth long enough for me to reply.

"B... but, what about Jonathan?"

"Oh, don't worry, he's not coming back this afternoon, and I already locked up out front. We won't be interrupted."

"No, I mean... um... won't he be jealous?"

"What? Why?"

Puzzled, I decided the best thing was just to be straightforward. After all, the man was cupping my wet crotch. "Aren't you gay?"

He laughed an honest laugh, obviously not offended, but also obviously entertained. "Oh, I see, when Jonathan introduced me as his 'partner', you assumed we were partners in all senses of the word?"

"Well, yeah! Aren't you?"

"No - we're best friends, going way back, and we love being in business together. But he's in a relationship with another man, and I'm, well, as straight as they come. And I've been barely able to keep my cock in my pants, watching you strut around the bakery in your cute little outfits."

"Oh, really?" I said flirtateously, grinding myself into his hand. "Well, the feeling is mutual - if I hadn't thought you were gay, I would have been throwing myself at you all this time."

His fingers now worked their way inside my panties, and as he touched my clit, skin to skin, I arched my back and moaned. He pushed the marzipan back into my mouth again, and began moving it in and out. I loved the taste, as well as the suggestive motion. As he slid a finger into my pussy, he pulled the candy cock out once and for all, and I watched as he reached for the chocolate syrup. He held it high in the air above me, slowly tipped up the bottle, and drizzled just a few drops into my mouth, then more onto my chest, which he quickly attacked with his tongue.

I reached for his belt, and then his zipper, and then his boxers, freeing him one layer at a time from his clothes. I didn't want to hurry the fabulous finger-fucking he was giving me, but I also wanted access to his cock. As he slid two and then three fingers into me, stretching my tight pussy and pumping it faster, I took the syrup bottle from his other hand, poured some of the sweet, sticky liquid onto my hand, and began stroking his half-erect cock.

"I suppose I should let you lick that off my cock?" he whispered in my ear as I ground my pussy onto his fingers.

"Oh, yes, please. Will you let me?"

He answered by pulling his fingers out of me and gently pushing me down to my knees. I quickly took his whole length into my mouth, savoring the taste of the chocolate along with the salty sweat from his skin. He took hold of my hair, and I began quickly moving back and forth on his cock, the chocolate flavor gradually disappearing as he grew in my mouth. I would have been happy to have him cum in my mouth, but he obviously had other plans, and pulled me to my feet.

He pulled my shirt over my head and my skirt down to the floor, leaving me in my 34C bra and matching lacy panties. He then pulled his own shirt over his head, so that he was now naked. Seeing his body was a huge turn on, but nothing compared to what he did next. He hoisted me up onto the counter, and then went to the refrigerator, coming back with a can of whipped cream. Before I could either protest or beg, he pulled my left breast out of the bra cup, shot a load of whipped cream onto it, and devoured it. As soon as he had cleaned off that breast, thoroughly licking and nibbling my nipple to make sure he had gotten all of it, he proceeded to do the same with the other breast.

When he was done there, he pulled off my panties, and reached again for the chocolate syrup, and very slowly drizzled a line from my navel down to my pussy. When the liquid hit my clit and then slipped between my pussy lips, I jumped with pleasure. "Please, eat me out," I begged him, but before the words were even out of my lips, he had started.

He traced the line of chocolate, tickling my navel with his tongue and then making his way to my clit. He licked in steady strokes from my tingling, engorged clit down to my pussy lips, occasionally darting his tongue into me. I let my weight fall back onto the big bakery work table, leaving my exposed pussy completely at his mercy. As he brought me to ever higher levels of pleasure, I involuntarily clamped my thighs around his head, and had my first orgasm in this position, his tongue now darting in and out of me quickly as his thumb manipulated my clit.

As soon as I had recovered, he helped me off the table, and when I was back on my feet, held me in a passionate embrace, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I could feel his hard cock against my body, and knew that I wanted to feel it inside me. This time I was going to choose the position, and I knew it would be one that would please him. Ending our intense kiss, I spun around, putting my forearms down on the table, and looking back at him over my shoulder. "Fuck me, Jake - I want you to take me from behind with that big cock of yours."

He responded quickly, but teased me at first, just rubbing the head of his cock against my pussy. I began bucking against him, trying to make him enter me, but he was stubborn, and I realized I wouldn't have him inside of me until I gave up control. I stopped moving, and he thrust into me, bottoming out in his first stroke. His cock was the biggest I had ever had inside of me, and the feeling of fullness almost brought me to another orgasm instantly.

Perhaps sensing the intensity of my feelings, he didn't move right away, but instead left his cock buried deep inside of me. As my pussy muscles began to pulsate around him, he reached around and took both of my breasts in one of his big strong hands, kneading them gently. Our movements then began simultaneously. As my pussy stretched a bit to accommodate him, he began stroking in and out of me, slowly at first, but then more quickly and with more length on each stroke. He brought his other hand around my torso as well, and with one breast in each hand, kept us moving together as our fucking reached a feverish pace.

He now let my breasts go, and positioned himself to take complete control. He used both hands to gently gather my long hair, which had been hanging loose, until he had it into a ponytail, which he then held with his left hand. His right hand again reached around my torso, but this time found my clit. As he continued to fuck me, he now controlled our pace by his hold on my hair, and brought me quickly to the verge of a powerful orgasm by fingering my clit. I had never let a man grab me by the hair before, but I found that I enjoyed letting go of control, leaving him in charge of our motions together, and even enjoyed the slight pain of the occasionally stronger tug.

He was now furiously fingering my clit, and I could tell he was about to cum. I let myself go, bucking wildly underneath him, just before he shot his load deep inside of me. He slowed significantly after he came, but he continued to stroke my pussy gently, which only prolonged the wave of pleasure that I was riding. When he finally pulled out of me, I could feel our combined juices trickle down my inner thigh as I collapsed in exhaustion onto the table.

After we pulled on our clothes, we both laughed at the mess we had left - splotches of whipped cream, drops of chocolate syrup, and a pool of cum. We diligently cleaned up the kitchen, knowing that Jonathan would have a heart attack if he saw it like this.

"So, as long as we tidy up afterwards, what do you say we do this again sometime?" Jake asked me with a wink.

"Sounds yummy. And can I help with the erotic baking from now on?"

"Oh, yeah - as long as you let me watch you work!"

Out of Gas

"Sam, we're going to run out of gas! Why didn't you stop when we had the chance?"

I knew this would provoke an argument, but I couldn't help it - my boyfriend was so stubborn about things like this, and it drove me up the wall!

"Don't worry, Julia, we'll make it just fine. Trust me!"

"Yeah, right. Just like a few hours ago, when you refused to ask for directions, and we wasted all that time on the wrong highway? That's part of the reason we're running out of gas, you know."

"Hey, quit hassling me. It'll be fine."

"Come on, you two," John chimed in from the backseat, "don't argue, it's not helping anything."

"Yeah, you're right, John. I think I'll try the silent treatment for a while," and with that I slumped into my seat, certain that we were going to run out of gas in the middle of nowhere, but knowing it wouldn't do any good to yell at Sam about it any more.

Sam and John were best friends from way back, and the three of us were on our way to a wedding that we had decided to turn into a road trip - we could have flown there, but we all needed a vacation from work, so decided to take a few extra days. Plus, John had just been through an ugly breakup a few weeks back, and Sam and I decided a change of scenery might do him some good.

After another 15 miles or so, the engine began making some unfortunate noises, and my worst fears were confirmed. Sam avoided my glance as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. We sat there in uncomfortable silence for a few moments - silence that made it obvious there wouldn't be any other passing motorists anytime soon to offer us help. Just as I opened my mouth to offer up an "I told you so," Sam put up his hand and spoke first, "Yeah, yeah. I know, it's my fault. Listen, I think we're only a couple of miles from the next town. I'll get out and walk, and hopefully somebody there will be willing to give me a ride back, and we'll be out of here before you know it."

"Hey, man, I'll go with you!" John offered, but Sam quickly declined.

"No, buddy - thanks, but why don't you stay here with Julia, I want to make sure she's OK."

John agreed, and we watched him walk along the shoulder of the highway, getting smaller and smaller until he finally disappeared over the horizon.

"God, he can make me crazy. Has he always been this stubborn?"

"Oh, yeah," John replied. "But he's also a great guy, definitely the best friend I've ever had."

"Oh, I know. I wouldn't be with him otherwise. But I just wish he'd listen sometimes, especially when I know I'm right." I put my arms up in the air in a long stretch, and then returned each hand to one of my shoulders, trying to rub out some of the tension I'd built up as we argued.

"Here, let me help you with that," John offered. Since he was still in the back seat, directly behind me, it was easy for him to put his hands on my shoulders.

"Sure, John, thanks." I let my head fall back on the headrest as his big, strong hands worked on my shoulders. "That's nice," I said softly, thinking to myself that he gave an awfully good shoulder rub. He continued rubbing my shoulders as we shot the breeze, doing our best to kill time while we waited for Sam to return.

"I have to say, John, you're awfully good with your hands! That's the best shoulder rub I've had in a long time!"

"I'd be happy to continue with your back, if you'd like to come sit back here with me?"

"Sure, why not. It is a little weird, anyway, talking to you from the front seat - I can't even see you!" I opened the door, walked around to the driver's side of the car, and climbed into the back seat next to him.

"OK, now get ready for the backrub of your life. I'm going to remove every ounce of tension, you won't even remember that your silly stubborn boyfriend left us on the side of the road, out of gas."

I chuckled, and turned my back towards him, scooting close enough that he could easily reach me with his hands. Again, his fingers worked their magic, and I indeed felt my tension dripping away. Before long I realized that I was no longer sitting up on my own, but rather letting myself lean into his hands. I could feel him moving a bit closer to me on the seat, and now my head rested on his shoulder as he continued working my lower back with his hands.

We continued to talk about everything under the sun, and commented a few times when a car went speeding by at how rude it was for people not to stop and see if we needed any help. His fingers were now under my loose-fitting blouse, and I noticed that he had to keep avoiding my bra strap as he worked that part of my back. Just as I noticed this, his fingers now lingered there, and he whispered in my ear, "Would you mind if I undid this? I'm not trying to put the moves on you, it would just give me a lot better access."

"Yeah, sure, John, I trust you!" As soon as the words left my lips, he quickly unhooked the bra, and immediately began working the middle of my back just as effectively as he had my shoulders and lower back. As he wound up his work, I quite literally melted into him, and turned my head, which was still resting on his shoulder, to say "thank you." As our eyes met, I suddenly was hit with the intimacy of the situation. Our lips were just a few inches apart, and before I really realized what I was doing, I found myself kissing him passionately.

Just as quickly, I realized what I was doing - starting to make out with my boyfriend's best friend - and pulled away again. "God, John, I'm sorry, I just meant to say 'thank you'!"

"No, Julia, don't be sorry. Truth is, I've fantasized about kissing you ever since the first time I laid eyes on you. If Sam weren't my best friend, I would have been trying to steal you away from him all this time."

"Really? Wow, John, I'm flattered! But still, I'm not sure we should go any further. After all, Sam might be back soon."

John clearly wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by, and rather than answering my last comment, reached his hands around my torso and took my tits in his hands, firmly pinching my nipples as he kissed me again. I couldn't help but respond, and the contrast between his gentle backrub and this firm grasp on my boobs had me immediately hot.

"I've wanted you for a long time, Julia. Wanted to touch your long blonde hair, to grab your beautiful tits, to look into your deep blue eyes as I fuck you."

"Oh, yes, John. I want you too," I said, turning to face him. Completely turned on by his comments about my body, I quickly stripped for him in the back seat, pulling off my blouse and already unhooked bra and then slipping out of my shorts and panties. As I kneeled on the seat next to him, he leaned forward and took one of my tits in his mouth, sucking it while his hand found my sex. He slowly stroked around the outside of my already-wet pussy, occasionally darting over my hard clit. As he pleasured me, I unfastened his belt and unzipped his jeans, and began massaging his cock, still hidden in his boxers.

His cock quickly grew in response to my touch, and I could tell it would be impressive when he was hard. I didn't want to wait any longer to see it and feel it in my hands, and then my mouth, and then my pussy, and roughly pulled down his jeans and boxers to free him. He protested at first when I pulled away from him, but when he realized it was to position myself to suck his cock, he gave in. I cradled his balls in one hand, encircled the base of his cock with the other, and then took the rest of his length into my mouth. He was still growing, and I loved the feel of him inside my mouth, twitching as he grew and hardened. As soon as he was fully erect, I began bobbing up and down on him, and before long he gathered up my long hair in his hands and used it to guide me as he fucked my mouth.

I had forgotten everything - that we were in the back seat of a car, that my boyfriend would likely be back any minute - and was only aware of the present moment. All of my energy was focused on pleasuring his cock, and anticipating the moment when I could feel him inside of my dripping wet pussy.

He pulled me off of his cock one last time, and we changed positions. He moved to the center of the back seat, his cock standing at attention, and I straddled him, slowly lowering myself down onto his length. He was bigger than Sam, and at first I couldn't take all of his thick hard cock into my tight little pussy. But he was patient, allowing me to work slowly to take more and more of him into me, until my clit finally met his skin, and I paused for a moment, enjoying the fullness. Once there, I started grinding against him in a slow, circular motion, before finally giving in to the urge to fuck and riding up and down on his cock.

It was at this moment - which was either exactly the right moment or exactly the wrong one - that I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Sam was watching us. I froze in place, John's cock buried deep inside of me, and couldn't help but think that perhaps fucking Sam's best friend was a bit of an extreme reaction to his running out of gas, and that he had every right to be furious with both of us. I had no idea how long he had been standing there outside the car, how much he had seen - and I couldn't tell what he was thinking, the expression on his face was so mysterious.

As he opened the door, John and I could both plainly see that Sam's cock was bulging. "Well, you two - I can see you've kept busy while I was gone!"

"And this sight turns you on, does it?" I said, grabbing at his crotch.

"Frankly, yes! I noticed the car rocking from down the road, and it was obvious what you two were up to. At first I was angry and jealous, but as I watched you through the window, it was just hot! And then I couldn't help thinking about that threesome you've always wanted, Julia."

As he said this, I was overcome with renewed desire, and began moving on John's cock again. Sam reached into the front seat and pushed the driver's seat as far forward as it could go, and then climbed into the car with us, closing the door behind him. He quickly pulled down his pants and boxers and began stroking his cock as he watched us fuck in front of him. There was something incredibly erotic about the close quarters of the car's back seat - the sounds and smells and heat of sex were overwhelming in the small space.

"Yes, John, fuck her! Fuck that tight little pussy as I get ready to fuck her ass." Sam had often asked me to tell him how I fantasized about being fucked by two men at once, but I don't think either of us thought we'd ever act on it. John was now furiously thrusting in and out of my pussy, and began gradually pulling us down onto the seat into a position that would give Sam access to join the action.

Once John and I were almost horizontal, I felt Sam come up behind me and begin rubbing his hard cock against my asshole. He had fucked me anally before, but never with another man's cock in my pussy, so I knew this would be a delightfully tight fit. John slowed his rhythm down to almost nothing to give Sam the chance to press into me, and I cried out in a mixture of pain and delight as he entered me. Sam waited for a few moments with about two inches inside me, and then began slowly pressing again, his cock gradually filling me as John again picked up the pace.

I almost immediately began what was to be the longest orgasm of my life - the sensations were so powerful that I lost all control, and was at the mercy of the cocks thrusting simultaneously in and out of my two holes. John came first, our long fucking session finally bringing him to a climax. Sam held through that, and then began thrusting harder as John's cock wilted inside my pussy. As I was in the last throes of my orgasm, just clinging to reality, Sam groaned as he shot his load deep in my ass.

After a few minutes, we managed to pull ourselves together, get back into our seats, and start off on the road again, rolling down the windows as we drove to release some of the sauna-like heat that had built up during our wild fucking session.

After a few minutes of silence, nobody really sure what to say, John finally spoke up, "If the back seat of your lousy old car was that good, Sam, imagine what we can do in the hotel room tonight!"