"You heard me." Josie arched an eyebrow. "You think I haven't noticed the way you've been looking at me? You want me and I'd like to see how much. Lose the towel."
Peter's hands trembled as he loosened the knot holding the towel in place, and let the whole thing sink to the floor. His erection reared up, straining almost to his belly-button.
Josie's eyes widened in appreciation. "Looks like you want me a whole lot," she purred.
It wasn't a question and it didn't need an answer. Even if it did, Peter was sure the rock-hard state of his cock would have been answer enough.
"Do you want to undress me, Peter?" Josie tilted her head to one side, coquettishness warring with the devilish glint in her eyes.
"Hell yes."
She thrust her shoulders back and her chest forward, offering herself up to him. Peter didn't need telling twice. He was across the room in two strides. Josie stared up at him, eyes sparkling, lips parted in a sexier version of the mega-watt smile.
Peter's hands trembled as he took the straps of her camisole and lifted them off her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra and when he eased the camisole off her head, her pendulous breasts sprang forward into his hands. He fell upon them like a dying man, lifting one rosy nipple to his mouth and suckling it.
Josie threw back her head and gasped, eyes shutting.
Peter took her other nipple between his fingers and gently pinched. Her breasts were so large he would need more than both hands to cup just one. He pressed himself against her while he suckled, his aching cock in line with the seam of her shorts. Josie's body was wonderfully plump and soft, her curves yielding against the harder planes of his own body.
She spread her legs wider and he took the hint, trailing his hand down between their bodies, squeezing and kneading the wide expanse of her stomach. It was happening just like he'd dreamt it and he was going to take his time. Even if his cock was so hard it hurt, throbbing with deep, desperate need.
He pulled open the top button of her shorts and slid his hand inside. Josie not only didn't wear a bra, she didn't wear knickers. It seemed his girl next door was more of a minx than he'd realised.
Josie propped herself up on her elbows to watch him as he slid his hand between her fleshy thighs and finally found the dark, secret place he was looking for. His fingers touched soft curls then slid through damp folds to where it was wet and warm. He closed his eyes in delight and Josie gasped, her inner muscles clamping round his searching fingers.
The denim shorts were getting in the way and Peter impatiently pulled them off her legs so he could spread her thighs wider and get a proper look at her. The skin on her thighs was dimpled and whiter than her tanned arms, the delta between her legs softly furred with blonde curls. Beneath the curls her sex opened up to him like a sweetly scented pink rose. He touched her reverently, stroking the unfurling petals of that rose before thrusting two fingers deeply inside.
Josie shouted and arched back on the bed. "Peter, please," she gasped. "I need you inside."
It was a good thing she was impatient because Peter wasn't sure he was going to be able to take his time with her. Much as he wanted to, his erection was throbbing where it was pressed against the mattress and if he didn't get release soon, it felt like he was going to explode.
He reared up over her, her soft body cushioning him. Josie locked her chubby ankles round his buttocks, urging him in. The swollen head of his cock pressed against her snug entrance. There was a moment of resistance then he was sinking, balls-deep, into her lush warmth. Her tight sex gripped him like a fist, muscles clamping and squeezing. For a brief moment he didn't dare move, fighting to acclimatise himself to the incredible feeling of being inside her.
Then Josie reared up and nipped his shoulder, her heavy breasts rubbing against his chest. Peter exploded into action, pumping into her with long, powerful strokes, hard enough to jolt the bed against the wall. Josie's nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down so he could kiss her. She tasted of blueberries, moaning into his mouth each time he slammed into her.
The force of his body against hers sent ripples running across her soft flesh, her breasts and hips wobbling to every delicious thrust. Peter felt hot, heavy heat gathering deep in his balls, clawing up his aching shaft. He wasn't going to last much longer.
Josie's breathy shouts in his ear spurred him on, her ankles round his hips driving him as deep as he could go. The walls of her sex were squeezing round his cock, tense with impending release. He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against her. Josie felt so good, every part of her soft and warm and slick with sweat. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips shaping hoarse cries.
"Josie," he gasped. Another couple of strokes and he'd go over. She opened her eyes and met his, her gaze heavy-lidded and dazed with pleasure.
"So close." The only words she could squeeze out between breathless shouts.
Orgasm boiled through him, surging up from deep inside. He fought against the rising tide of pleasure, trying to hold it off as long as he could. He wanted to see the light of orgasm shining in Josie's eyes.
Josie's body started to shake beneath him, thighs clenched, inner muscles spasming. Her back arched into a tight bow as her release hit, gripping and milking his cock. It was enough to push him over. His own orgasm ripped free, jetting into her. He cried her name as he poured himself into her, echoed by her lingering scream.
The bed squealed in protest as they sank back onto it, gasping, fighting for air. Josie's body trembled from little aftershocks. "Hell of a way to start the morning," she said once she'd regained her breath.
Peter could only nod. He braced himself on his arms so he could look down her at. Her eyes were sparkling with satisfaction, lips swollen from his kisses, and round cheeks pink with exertion. The smell of sweat and sex filled the room.
"We could make a habit of this," Josie continued, mischief flashing across her face.
Peter drew her soft, heavy body into his arms, lightly kissing the back of her neck. "I think I'm going to like living here."
Lush Buns
© Sommer Marsden
He looked hungry, Magda thought. But not necessarily for food. Just for...something.
The bell over the door tinkled and swayed and he actually looked up in surprise. She couldn't help but laugh. "Didn't mean to startle you." She paused, filling a basket with fresh rolls. "Are you my one o'clock order?"
He nodded. "I am. I think it's sixteen..."
"Seventeen mixed sandwiches," she said, correcting him. "Roast beef, ham, smoked turkey and veggie. I'll get the platters. I put the veggie on a separate one because I figure if folks are vegetarian or vegan they won't want their sandwiches mingling with the meat ones."
Again he looked startled and then he smiled. "That was nice."
Magda laughed. "It's the little things in life that matter most."
She did notice as she walked away that his eyes followed her. She also noticed that she liked the sensation. Two years since her last relationship, six months since her last roll in the hay, the sensation was a surprise—but a pleasant one.
She put the smaller tray on top of the larger and walked them out. The glass counter sparkled and seemed to throw dazzling light around. The only thing more sparkly than a jeweler's counter was a baker's as far as Magda was concerned.
"Here we go. I'll go grab the bag of sides and condiments. You can pick seventeen sodas or juices from the cooler."
He nodded but seemed distracted by the basket of rolls. "Help yourself," she said, smiling. "On the house."
His eyebrows went up. They were pale blond, almost red, like his hair. "For real?"
She chuckled. "Of course for real. I'd never joke about warm fresh bread." From the doorway she nodded toward a small side table near the coffee carafes. "Fresh local butter is there and there's coffee too. You looked like you could use—"
"A new job?" he said, suddenly. Then he smiled. "Sorry."
"I was going to say a breather."
"That too."
When she left the room to pack up his bags of crisps and napkins and condiments he was picking out a roll. He was cute, she thought. Handsome man meets lost little boy. She wondered what his mouth would feel like pressed against hers.
"Stop being silly," she said to herself. But it seemed that out of nowhere Magda could feel every single day of the last few months without a man in her bed.
Feeling silly but doing it anyway she smoothed her hair and poked her head in the bathroom to check her makeup. Most of her lipstick was gone but what remained was a pale pink that made her flushed cheeks look that much more brilliant. Uniform blue tee emblazoned with Lush Buns across the chest, her normal black jeans and flour-speckled black high tops.
He was tall and lanky and she couldn't help but wonder how he'd feel about getting hit on by a tall, curvy brunette who could bake the hell out of some sourdough bread.
"Best foot forward," she muttered to her own reflection and hefted her ample breasts up and adjusted her bra.
Gorgeous if I do say so myself.
Magda didn't need to wonder how he felt because when she took the bag out he was leaning against the counter smiling. "Best bread I've ever had, Magda," he said.
She set the bag down and grinned at him. He was easy to grin at. His eyes were a startling blue and when he smiled it went right through the centre of her. She didn't even know his name. Hers was right on her shirt for all the world to see.
"Thank you, um..."
"Kyle."
She nodded. "Kyle. I have your order and I..." All her bravado from the back room had fled her and she stumbled over her words. His smile had fried her brain good.
"Can I ask you something?" He pulled his wallet out and extracted a credit card. The drinks from the cooler were lined up neatly on the countertop near the food trays.
"Sure." Magda started to tally him up, hoping her confidence would return. When she looked up and saw him really studying her, she forced herself to stand a bit taller. Forced herself to stay calm and remember that she was going to maybe ask him for his number. Maybe even ask if he'd like to get a drink.
"Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with a slightly stunned, disgruntled employee who got the best surprise of his life today?"
He was beating her to the punch. Magda inhaled and tried to calm her heart.
"Best surprise?"
"I came here to get the food, because..." He shrugged. She liked the way his chest flexed when he did it. "Ya know, I'm the errand boy all the sudden. But it turned out in my favour."
"How so?" Her hands were shaking but she took the card he offered and ran it through.
"I came just for food but met you. A..." he shook his head. "Don't think I'm a jerk for being forward--"
Please be forward...
"Go on," she said, sliding his card through just to give her hands something to do.
"A smoking hot woman who bakes bread like nothing I've ever tasted."
She blushed and hated that she was blushing.
"Oh, go on." She handed the card back to Kyle and his finger brushed over hers for a split second. That electric touch slid right down the centre of her and pooled between her thighs. Magda was suddenly so hungry for something herself she felt light headed with it.
"I will go on." He leaned in. "You're beautiful," he said. "I'd go into detail but you'd call me a pervert and throw me out."
"Doubtful."
He glanced at his watch and frowned. "I have to go. I hate my job, but I need it. Can't take you out for a drink or two if I have no means of income, now can I?" He gathered up the trays and the bag.
Magda grabbed a large handled bag and began to load the drinks. "Where are you parked?"
"I can do it. I'll just come back," he said.
"Let me. It's fine."
He nodded. "Thanks." Then she was following him to one of the parking spaces in front of her store.
"I'm sorry you hate your job."
"I'm happy they sent me." He grinned, reached out, touched the very end of a lock of her hair.
Magda knew she was imagining it but she felt as if that small contact flared through her body like a brushfire.
"I hope you like the sandwiches."
"You could put dog food on that bread of yours and I bet it would taste good."
"I guarantee these taste better than dog food."
"You live up to it, you know."
"What?"
He leaned toward her and Magda felt her whole being go warm from the closeness. "Lush buns."
A warble of laughter erupted from her and she covered her mouth.
"So I can come back and get you tonight? Here or..."
"I work until five and then there are some college students who do the short evening shift for me. They close up. I'm at 7 Ocean Way. Pink house with mint green shutters. Can't miss it."
He studied her, looking much happier than the man who'd first entered her small bakery. "Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Magda tried not to preen at his compliments. She had to keep her wits about her. "I hope your day gets better," she said, meaning it.
"It's already better," he said. And she could tell he meant that.
* * * *
Magda twisted her hair up, let it fall, twisted it up, let it fall. She had no idea what to do with it. The heat had her natural waves all worked up. At least the outfit was easy. Ballerina length, white cotton drawstring skirt and a black tank top. She wore her favorite chunky copper colored metal link belt around her waist and burnished copper colored sandals. She'd even painted her toenails a sparkly shade of white that made her think of ice.
She was nervous for him to get there. Not because she was uncertain but because she was excited.
"Do not sleep with him," she said to her own reflection as she painted her lips an almost lilac shade of pink. "Even if you want to." She put her hair back down. "A lot"
She stared at herself, admiring the way the outfit played over her curves and the tank highlighted her cleavage. Her skin was lightly tanned from sitting out on the patio in the evening with a glass of wine. She looked good. Healthy. Sexy.
"But no sex! Even though you really, really, really want to." She laughed. "Really."
She wasn't a prude, but it had been a while and she was afraid she'd get emotionally attached while he just wanted to have a good time. So did she, but she tended to connect to the people she took to bed. Best to be slow.
"Slow," Magda said. Her eyes belied the fact that she might not be taking her own advice, because Kyle was the first man who'd made her face flush and her thighs clench in a very long time.
The doorbell rang and she gave herself one more piece of advice: "Don't throw up."
He was leaning against her door jam in khaki shorts and a plain black tee. His hair fell across his forehead in a way that made Magda want to brush it back. He grinned and her face went numb.
"Look at you," he said and whistled. It didn't sound as stupid when he said it as it normally did.
"Look at you," she countered, smiling.
He glanced down at himself. "Ah, this old frock?"
Magda laughed and stepped back. "Come on in. Can I get you a pre-drink drink?"
"You having one?" He stepped in and for a split second they were nearly belly to belly. He smelled good. Like sun and sand and spices, Magda thought.
"I'll have a wine. You?"
"Wine. Sure. Wine." Kyle glanced around. "This is a nice house. It reflects...you."
"How so?" She watched him as subtly as she could manage while he wandered along behind her. She pulled a chilled Riesling from the fridge and found two glasses.
"It reflects you because it's happy and pretty and bright. Does your house bake phenomenal bread too?"
She shook her head, handed over his wine. Their fingers brushed for a second and she felt the brutal rush of lust come over her. "No, but wouldn't that be a heck of a trick. Did you like your sandwiches?"
H
e took a sip of wine, then set the glass down. "Nope. I loved them. I stole all the ones that were left and took them home. Even the veggie ones. That's unheard of." He moved a step closer and she felt his energy tingle around her.
"Why's that?"
"Vegetables are the devil," he said. He moved a bit closer and brushed a stray lock back over her shoulder. "Magda the bread lady, may I kiss you?"
She could only nod. The warm scent of him that reminded her of the ocean on a sunny day filled her head. He took the final step closing the distance between them. His arm snaked around her waist, found the swell of her ass. He didn't grab her so much as cup her. A sigh slipped free of her lips and he murmured, "I've been thinking about kissing you all day."
"I...you—" She shook her head. The words wouldn't come.
He gave her a half smile and moved in for the kiss. His lips were soft and warm and brushed over hers so gently it set her whole body alight.
A warm rush flared between her thighs and Magda did her best to ignore the wet flex of her pussy. It had been way too long and he was a very good kisser.
She moved her tongue over his as he deepened the kiss. He cupped the back of her head with his free hand and kissed her even harder. She made a silly little noise and let her arms move around him the way they wanted. He was broader than she'd first thought. Harder too. His chest pressed to her breasts and she clung to him.
When the broke the kiss for air she wheezed, "I can't sleep with you."
"That's a shame," he said.
"I mean today," she clarified. "I promised myself."
He nodded. "Good plan. I agree. I want one more of these," he said and then his mouth was on hers again, his lips and tongue so soft and lulling, her knees felt weak. Finally, he kissed a trail down her neck and sighed. "And now I want to take you for that drink. And since it's going on seven, I say I throw a meal in there too. What do you like to eat?"
She couldn't remember. Magda shrugged, playing off her temporary amnesia. "Anything."
"How about killer Tex-Mex?"
"If there's a margarita in that deal I'm in."
"That can be arranged." He motioned for her to go ahead of him. "Ladies first."
Coming Together With Curves Page 10