Callies Cakes

It's a Monday morning. Early. I walk into the bakery through the back door, coffee in hand, and I'm greeted by Mikey, my gay bestie and right hand man. In place of "good morning" he offers "Ooohh you look good this morning."

"Thanks," I mumble, brushing a strand of hair over my ear. I look around and see the morning crew already started with the daily to-do list. I briefly think about when I started this 6 years ago, coming in myself at 4am and trying to do everything. The best part of successful small business is when it gets to the point that the owner (that's me) can hire people and rely on them to get things done.

I'm Callie, 26 years old, owner of Callie's Cakes. We specialize in custom made cakes for weddings, birthdays, or any other occasion. We also keep the storefront stocked with cupcakes and other goodies to keep up foot traffic. I handle most of the actual decorating and designing, and others do the more day-to-day baking and customer service. Mikey doesn't know a thing about baking or decorating, but handles the business and staff better than I ever could.

I went into the small office in the back of the kitchen and hung up my coat. I kept both the office and kitchen organized and clutter-free, emphasizing the importance of that to every new hire. Hanging on the wall was a calendar showing all the special orders for the week. (Yes, it was all in the computer too, but I liked to see a hard copy.) It was the last week of February, usually a slow time of year, but this was a leap year; the coming Thursday was February 29th, and there was a surprising number of people celebrating leap day. We had stopped taking special orders the week before, not sure we'd be able to finish any more than what was already on the schedule. I knew that the next few days would be very busy for me.

Adding to this was my newfound fame. I had been invited to compete on a Food Network show - "Valentine's Day Cake Massacre" - filmed the previous fall, but aired a few weeks earlier before Valentine's Day. I finished a respectable 2nd place. That national TV exposure, and the local news filming a follow-up story about me and my bakery had the orders coming in faster than we could handle them, and kept the cupcakes flying off the shelf. Business was going great.

The downside of being on TV was having to listen to my mom criticize my appearance. Truth be told, I was never one to put much work into how I looked. I was shorter, just 5'3", overweight, which is a hazard of working in a bakery. (Reubenesque, I guess, would be a better word.) I rarely wore makeup, and my hair usually started the day blonde but ended the day powdered white with flour and confectioners sugar. After seeing me on TV, my mom conspired with Mikey to clear my schedule yesterday (Sunday) and gifted me a full day spa experience. I decided to punish her credit card by making the most of it and packing in as many spa services as I could.

Hair trim, curl and highlights, facial, wax of pretty much everywhere, full body massage, and I brought some of their makeup home with me in anticipation of a future TV appearance. That's what had elicited Mikey's welcoming compliment this morning.

Looking at the wall calendar showing the special orders for the week, I noticed that a new cake had been added that day, in someone else's handwriting. A small 8" cake and a note "special delivery 7pm - M." Before I could ask, Mikey walked into the office and took a seat.

"Enjoy your spa day? I love the hair..."

"Actually, yeah, it was kind of amazing. And I really wish I could see my mom's face when she gets her credit card bill." I didn't tell him about how I was still tingling from the Brazilian wax, each movement sending a new sensation through my nether regions. "What's this new order here?" I asked, pointing to the calendar entry.

He typed some stuff into the computer and pulled up the order. "Last minute, first wedding anniversary. You made their wedding cake last year, and they walked in yesterday needing a replacement cake topper." I looked at the computer screen that showed the cake I made the year before. It was a basic four tier cake with an intricate piped lace design covering all of it. There were pictures showing the happy couple standing in front of the cake too. A lot of times couples would send us pictures or tag us on Instagram. Mikey saved all of that - he handled all of our social media and promotional stuff too. Like I said, he was my right hand and completely irreplaceable.

I remembered the couple too. The screen said their names were Beth and Ben, but I remembered them as Ken and Barbie. Beth was a tall skinny blonde, long flowing hair, perky tits and a tight little ass. Ben had a full head of thick blonde hair, a square jaw, broad shoulders and a slim waist. I was certain that he had rippling abs beneath that tux. I wouldn't say that they were both runway model material, but definitely catalog model material; maybe J. Crew or Banana Republic. They intimidated the hell out of me, but also provided me with masturbation material for week after their wedding. I made a mental note to copy the pic of them in the computer for my personal use.

I returned to reality and considered the order. "Tonight? They need it tonight? Delivered? I don't know if we can get that done."

Mikey stood and came toward me. He put his hands on my shoulders, his standard soothing gesture. "Shhh... it's all taken care of. That is your only to-do for today. You'll get it piped this afternoon, no problem. Then," he took a half step back, about to deliver news he knew I wouldn't like, "you'll be delivering it yourself to their house. Just a few miles from here. They were very insistent, and paid an extra $200 in cash for your personal delivery."

I started to object when he stepped in. "This is good. They saw you on TV and told me that they bragged to everyone they know that their wedding cake was made by a celebrity. So you get dressed up, deliver the cake, take some pictures posing with the happy couple. They get posted to Instagram, and next week we have all of Beth and Ben's beautiful friends ordering their cakes from us too. An hour of your time and business is booming. Do this. Ok?"

"Uggh... fine," I said, in my best pouty teenager voice. Mikey gave me a hug. "They really gave you $200 in cash?"

"No, they gave YOU $200." Mikey reached into his pocket and took out two hundred dollar bills. He tucked them into my back pocket and gave my ass a friendly pat. "Now get to work."

The rest of the day progressed as normal. Cakes and cupcakes flying in and out of the oven, vats of frosting and fondant getting mixed and colored. My special project was ready for decoration at noon, and I coated it with a white swiss meringue buttercream. I took my time piping the lace design around the sides and top. It was generally better to do it all in one sitting, keeping my hands moving and cake spinning. When the piping bag was empty I paused to let the cramp in my hand subside and to go out to the showroom, say hello to some customers, pose for a few pictures at Mikey's insistence. When the 8" cake was done I boxed it and moved it into a cooler. Their order included an extra pint of the same frosting. I filled a pint size plastic container and, before putting on the lid, dipped my finger in and had a taste - quality control. It was delicious, smooth and light and not too sweet. I could have dove in and licked the container clean.

Around 5pm I was overseeing a birthday cake scheduled to be picked up at 6 for a party that night. One of my new decorators took the lead and it looked good. It was nice to have employees you can trust. Mikey pulled me aside and tapped his wrist, where a watch would be if he ever wore one. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asked.

"Yeah, delivery was at 7, and it's just a few minutes away, I have time."

"But," he looked me up and down,"you can't go like that. Go home, clean up, put on a dress. Remember... pictures... smile big and look good. You can do it."

I sighed and searched my brain for an excuse. Wouldn't it make more sense to be wearing my bakers coat in the pictures? Showing off the Callie's Cakes logo stitched into it? No, he was right.

"Fine," I pouted. "I'll stop at home and clean up first."

I took the cake box and extra frosting out of the cooler and said goodbye to everyone working. I took one more glance at the wall calendar and considered how busy I'd be the next few days. A good night sleep tonight would be helpful.

I drove to my house nearby. I lived alone so didn't need much space. It was a small 2 bedroom 1 bathroom house, but it had a nice kitchen and a large bathtub, so I fell in love with it. I worked to keep it clean and well organized, like my bakery. The second bedroom was used mostly as a place to do yoga. I actually loved doing yoga and loved how flexible I was, in spite of my extra pounds. I could still get my feet behind my head when it became necessary. Unfortunately, it was rarely necessary. Dedicating my 20's to running my own business didn't leave much time for a personal life. I used to go to a nearby yoga studio, hoping that it would help me meet others. One day the instructor passed by while I was in child's pose and remarked "Fibonacci would be proud." After googling it, I realized that he was just telling me I had a big, round ass. I hadn't been back since.

I quickly rinsed off in the shower, then robed-up and spent some time working on my hair and makeup, trying to remember the makeup tutorial I got at the spa the day before. It already felt like a week ago. I did my best and, looking in the mirror, thought I looked pretty good. I gave my hair a quick curl, then made my way to my closet.

If my mom could see this... well, she'd insist on taking me shopping for a new wardrobe. A lot of sweats and other clothes that made sense in a messy bakery. There was really just one dress option; I referred to it as ol' reliable. It was a basic black dress with a white floral pattern, robe style with a black belt and a v-neckline that showed a little cleavage. It stopped right at my knees. It was perfect for weddings, funerals, job interviews, and first dates, should the opportunity arise. Under it I wore new black bra and panties I bought myself for Valentine's Day. I finished it with black boots that went to my mid calf, and covered it all in my bulky winter coat. It was February after all, and barely above freezing outside.

I pulled up in front of Ben and Beth's house right at 7. I saw now why Mikey was so insistent on this. While just a few miles away, they lived in the rich part of town. They were the same age as me, married just one year, and already living in what I would consider a mansion. If they had other rich friends to refer to Callie's Cakes, then this personal visit will definitely be worthwhile.

With the cake and frosting in hand, I walked up the long path to their front door. I noticed dim lights behind the curtains, but everything was otherwise quiet.

Ben opened the door, wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck and sleeves rolled up to mid forearm, over gray slacks. He looked the same as he did in the wedding photo, still blonde and tanned and chiseled. He flashed a big, uncharacteristically dorky smile, showing off his perfect white teeth, and exclaimed "Callie! So good to see you again. Come in." He was treating me like an old friend, not someone who he hired and had met only twice before.

Once inside and with the door closed behind me, Beth appeared. She wore a tiny red dress, strapless and barely extending to the middle of her tiny pale thighs. Her blonde hair hung straight down, just past her shoulders. She looked at me holding the cake and frosting hungrily, practically licking her lips and drooling. Poor thing probably hadn't had a piece of cake in a year, or maybe any sugar.

"There she is, the star of Valentine's Day Cake Massacre!" Ben took my coat and Beth leaned in for a half hug around the cake box. "Thank you so much for doing this. Ben, why don't you take the cake and frosting to the kitchen and cut it. Callie, please come with me." Ben took the cake box and frosting container from me, turned and left the room. Callie took my hand and lead me in the opposite direction, into a parlor featuring a roaring fireplace and large overstuffed couch facing it. There was a small table in front of the couch and a blanket spread out on the floor in front of the fire. The room was lit by just the fire and one small lamp.

She lead me to the couch and we sat next to each other. "We definitely thought you should have won. Your final cake with the cupid that actually flew was amazing. We watched every episode and bragged to everyone we know that we knew you before you were famous." She patted my hand and let her touch linger.

"Thank you. It was definitely a great experience, and great for business."

"I bet. And we're so glad you were able to get us in at the last minute like this. I want to tell you about why we asked you here tonight. Do you mind if I ramble for a while?" She had a sweet voice and such a disarming charm about her. She could have asked me to do anything at that moment and I would have agreed.

I nodded and she smiled, ever so subtly biting her lip. "I assume this will be covered by baker-client confidentiality?" she joked. I laughed and nodded. Then she started telling me her story.

"So, our wedding, one year ago yesterday, was kind of a disaster. Parents fighting, bridesmaids being bitchy, groomsmen being obnoxious and drunk. The caterer screwed up some of the meals, the DJ played some songs we specifically requested be excluded. Overall it was kind of a disaster. Eventually, Ben and I just grabbed the cake topper and left without saying goodbye to any of the guests. We got to the honeymoon suite and I spent 20 minutes just complaining and trying not to cry. I mean, it's supposed to be the best day of your life, right? And this was a huge letdown. So Ben calmed me down and just held me. Then he filled up the bathtub and helped me out of my dress and he washed me and whispered sweet things to me. He left me alone for a minute, then came back with the cake topper and a fork. Now I know that you're supposed to save that for the one year anniversary, but that night your cake saved our wedding day.

"So I'm laying in the tub and he's sitting on a stool next to me, in just his boxers, and he's feeding me this cake, and taking a few bites himself, and all the stress just washed away and I was in heaven. I told him that I thought we should go to bed, so he helped me out of the tub and dried me off. Then we brought the cake into the bedroom. I was laying in bed naked, and he was naked next to me, and I grabbed a fistfull of cake and smeared it across my chest. I asked him to clean it up while I licked my fingers clean. It was sooo sensual, so erotic. We'd never done anything like that before, but we both just loved it.

"I spread my legs and he grabbed more cake, spreading it across my... you know... then he took his time eating it all up and licking me clean while I just laid back and moaned."

I noticed that she was struggling to sit still as she told me the story. She was squirming on the couch, moving her thighs against each other and spreading them slightly. I was having a hard time sitting still too. My mind was filled with images of these two gorgeous people spreading their cake, my cake, all over their naked bodies... She continued with the story.

"Then it was his turn. I first spread frosting over his lips, then teasingly licked them clean. I decided that I wasn't patient enough then to keep teasing him, so I grabbed another fistfull of cake and wrapped it around his cock. Then I took him in my mouth and cleaned him up. He must have liked what I was doing because he was moaning like I'd never heard him before. We didn't exactly wait until the wedding night, you know? So then exploded in my mouth. Like literally exploded. It mixed with the cake and I hungrily swallowed it all down and then we fell asleep in each others arms. And all of my worries about that day and about our future just completely disappeared in that moment.

"I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable hearing about that. I imagine that in your line of work you already know that a percentage of your cakes end up smeared on your customer's naked bodies."

I was taken aback by that... I mean, I had never thought about people using my cake in their lovemaking. I had certainly never done anything like that, but I really never had opportunity to. I shifted and could feel a wet spot spreading in my panties. I scrambled for a response. "No, not uncomfortable. I mean, I guess I just didn't think about it. But hearing your story, that just seems so sensual and romantic and sexy, and I guess it makes me feel..."

"Proud?" she interrupted.

I considered the word, then "Yeah, I guess. I mean, my cake helped the two experience that... knowing that I kind of helped to save your wedding day, your honeymoon, yeah, I guess I am kinda proud."

She put her hand back on top of mine and gave it a squeeze. "I'm happy to hear that, because there's more."

Ben then came into the room, holding a fancy silver serving tray on which was my cake, sliced into 8 pieces, the container of frosting, and a small spoon. I noticed there were no plates or forks to be found. He set it on the small table in front of the couch, then sat on the other side of Beth. Her shoulders were turned to face me, so as he sat behind her, his hands moved across her shoulders and he pulled back her hair, tucking it behind her ear. He then leaned in and gave her neck a soft, sensual kiss. Her eyes fluttered and her body relaxed, melting back into him. Once she recovered, she continued her story.

"So since that night, Ben and I bring up that night whenever we are talking dirty to each other or trying to turn the other on. On his birthday I baked and frosted him a cake completely in the nude. On my birthday we took a bubble bath together and fed each other cake. It was all wonderful but it still felt like something was missing. Whenever we drove by your bakery and saw your sign I'd give him a squeeze in the car or he'd suggest we stop for some cupcakes. We did once but didn't see you there.

"Then we saw you on TV. We were laying right here, on this couch, watching the Food Network. And there you were decorating Valentine's Day cakes. We started touching each other, and kissing..." At that point Ben started kissing Beth's neck again. "And we had to pause the show a few times while we pulled each other's clothes off and made love. When the show was over, we were laying there, in front of the fire, he was still teasing me after my last orgasm, and we were still talking dirty to each other. He asked me if I wanted to bring home another one of your cakes for our anniversary and, you know, eat it off each other."

Ben then took over, "And she said that she wanted your cake and you..."

Beth squeezed my hand again as Ben kissed her neck. His hands then moved down her shoulders, across her breasts,down her body to the hem of her dress. He slid it up slightly to reveal her lack of panties.

Now panting, Beth asked "Will you help us, Callie? Will you help us celebrate our anniversary?"

I couldn't believe what was happening. On a typical Monday night I'd be home alone, watching this scene on my laptop with one hand in my sweatpants, not actually living it. I'd never even kissed a girl, much less... whatever was about to happen. I'm not sure why I did what I did, it was so out of character, and the door was right there... But I leaned in and kissed Beth, on the mouth. First with closed lips, then in unison our tongues found each other. She was so soft and so smooth and she tasted so good...