My First Sexual Experience Was in a Pastry Shop.
I expected him to remove his hand, but instead he continues to carefully stroke me, slowly extending his fingertips while his other hand kneads my breast and kisses my back all the while.
On a Friday night, I first encountered Alex, a 6ft 3in, half-Swedish man with a deep, languid voice. His fashion sense—vintage denim jacket, hipster beanie, and Adidas trainers—and the casual comfort with which he handled himself immediately drew me in. Our eyes connected across the crowded room, and he came over to introduce himself before asking for my number. It was almost like a scene out of a rom-com.
We got official after six weeks and a lot of hot sex. After that, we decided to take a vacation from one another because something had changed and we had started fighting about little issues.
Alex was starting his master's degree at this time while working as a sales assistant in a well-known pastry shop, and I was doing a boring admin job at a properties office. We had previously decided to take a break from our relationship, but when he texted to ask if I would meet him as he closed the store, I answered yes right away.
Just after work, I drove into town. I could see Alex seated at the register behind a cabinet filled with pastries through the glass door. He looked terrific, and I realised how much I missed him. He approached me when I knocked despite the door being chained shut and the "closed" sign being visible.
My heartbeat accelerated. I still believed he was really attractive, despite the fact that our relationship was in ruins. He apparently felt the same way, because before I knew it, he was telling me how much he missed me, tucking a hair behind my ear, and giving me a passionate kiss.
We both moved to the opposite end of the room, away from the large display window that was crammed with pastries and a pyramid of candies, realising that we were in plain view of any onlookers. We were motivated to keep going by the knowledge that anyone walking by may look in at any time and see us.
I squatted down, unbuttoned his pants, and took his penis in my mouth as he leaned back against the counter. I stroke fast and it turn harder and harder. I rose up as soon as I saw he was almost done, and he leaned me over the register and entered me from behind. I expected him to remove his hand, but instead he continues to carefully stroke me, slowly extending his fingertips while his other hand kneads my breast and kisses my back all the while. I feel another orgasm coming on.
The entire time, "We were both on the verge of climaxing."
My head was swimming with the excitement and surrealism of it all as he shoved in and out, having to hold me up due to the height difference between us. He pushed in and out, holding me up because of the difference in our heights, and I was overcome by the excitement of it all. We were both on the verge of climaxing the entire time due to the air's sweet chocolate aroma and the uncertainty of whether this would be our final opportunity to have sex.
When the pleasure got too much for him, Alex spanked me, breathed deeply in my ear, and then ejaculated loudly. Soon later, with the aid of his fingers, I was done. He gave me a package of salted caramel truffles for the road as a sort of post-sex party bag after we had cleaned up and regained our composure. Shortly after that, we permanently broke up, but to this day, I still get a secret thrill whenever I pass that pastry shop.
About the Creator
The Lost Girl
A Lost Girl is: A woman in her 20s, 30s (and beyond) who's more than a bit unsure about what she's doing with her life, the direction that she's headed and how to make changes for the better.
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