Summary:
Lonely, horny bakery owner is drawn into lesbian submission.
Note 1:
Thanks to
Jedd
for inspiring the story.
Note 2:
In 2016, thanks to Robert, goamz86, Sophia and Wayne for editing this story. In early 2019, thanks to Tex Beethoven for helping me add a fresh coat of polish.
Note 3:
This story stands on its own, but if you want to read more BREE stories, check out the following (listed in chronological, not date published, order):
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Pre-MILF (in Bree's senior year of high school)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Mom (late in her senior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Neighbor (late in her senior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Chocolate (immediately following Neighbor)
Lesbian MILF
Seductress: Bakery (a couple weeks after Neighbor & Chocolate)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: 30
th
B'day (late summer, last weekend before her beginning college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Secret Santa (during her first year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Nurse (during her first and third years of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Cop (summer after her first year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Pop Star (summer between
sophomore and junior years of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Church Mom (immediately after Pop Star)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Spa (during the beginning of her junior year)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Bride (End of third year of college)
Lesbian MILF Seductress: In Flight (summer job after college)
*****
Lesbian MILF Seductress: Bakery
BREE:
After the successful seductions of Katherine's mom Nadine, and my black neighbour Ms. Myers, I was addicted to seduction and wanted to push the envelope by attempting to seduce a complete stranger... here is that story, told in the words of the slut I seduced.
LEANNE:
I sighed as I brought a tray of fresh donuts to the counter. I felt all of my forty years after working twelve straight twelve-hour shifts. I'd barely seen my two boys the past two weeks, and when I did, I was too exhausted to do much with them. If it weren't for my Mom being willing to look after them for long hours and sometimes even days at a time, I don't know what I would have done.
This was all
The Bastard's
fault.
My parents had never liked my husband. Said he wasn't trustworthy. They encouraged me to keep separate bank accounts. After all, they had owned the bakery before selling it to me for a dollar when they retired. (Yes, for a dollar. My folks are the salt of the earth!) I had balked at the idea of separate finances at first, but thankfully I'd listened when they changed tack and suggested I have a separate business account just in case something happened to my husband. Joint accounts could be tied up indefinitely, and a prolonged lack of access to my bakery funds could cause potential disaster to the business.
Something happened to him all right. The prick cleaned out all our joint accounts when he ran off with a younger skank. I mean it's one thing to leave your spouse, but what kind of asshole leaves two preschool boys behind and takes all the money?
So, by working twelve-hour days, and with the help of my parents, I was able to maintain my normal lifestyle as I fought in court for the ripped off funds, alimony and child support from my deadbeat husband.
My business was successful, and thankfully I'd kept all its profits (less the salary I'd paid myself, unfortunately) in the business account my parents had insisted I keep. That way, I could still indulge in my one remaining luxury: fine clothing.
The bakery was downtown in the business district, and I wanted to fit into the high-flying lifestyle of the rich and famous, so I at least kept up appearances through professional, sexy, designer dresses and shoes. Though the recent stress may have faded my youthful glow a bit, the hard work made my body the envy of girls half my age. In short, this wasn't your neighborhood bakery where the lady baker wore a tall white hat and white clothing, my shop looked more like a bistro, with elegant dΓ©cor and small tables for dining on gourmet pastries and other baked goods. And in a nod to my one bit of naughtiness, I always wore fine silk thigh highs beneath my professional business attire.
Not that anyone ever got to see what was underneath. The workload had really taken over my life, and I hadn't been on a date since The Bastard left. There had been flirtations at work, and my lawyer was definitely interested in me, but I refused to be tempted by that juicy apple until the divorce was final. I sure didn't want a potential indiscretion with my lawyer to be turned against me by my conniving husband.
So I was lacking any real sex, and my fingers and my vibrator were no longer satisfying me. I was increasingly horny, and that was beginning to be a major distraction to me both at work and at home. I needed this divorce done soon, so I could fuck the hell out of my lawyer, or any other man I wanted. And so I could afford to cut back from these exhausting twelve-hour shifts! I was in full control of the company funds, but I wanted my own money back! But that would be in an untouchable limbo until there was a court settlement. Sigh.
The only bright note in all this was that my husband couldn't touch the contested funds either. Yay judge!
I was drawn out of my semi-depression by the cheery 'ping' announcing a customer. Two young ladies, late teens, early twenties perhaps, walked in, giggling.
"Hello, may I help you?" I asked, trying not to yawn, knowing there were still five more interminable hours before closing time.
The brunette stood demurely, twisting the ends of her hair, which I thought was odd.
The blonde, who was clearly the leader of the two, said with a flirtatious smile, "I was looking for something sweet, and it seems I've found it."
"Well, this is the finest bakery in town. I have donuts, eclairs, cookies... well, here's a menu. Let me know when you've made your choice," I said, not accustomed to having teenagers in the shop.
"Oh, I think I know what I want," the blonde said as she stared into my eyes, as if hitting on me, "I'll have a chocolate eclair."
I ignored the thought she was flirting with me, as I asked the other girl, "And for you, miss?"
The brunette didn't speak. Instead, the blonde spoke for her. "Oh, I told her she may have her dessert later," her eyes never breaking contact with mine.
That was odd, but I placed the chocolate eclair on a paper doily atop a small plate and handed it to the blonde.
The brunette took it as the blonde paid me.
"Enjoy," I said, like I always did. My baked goods were the best in the city, and usually after someone had come here once, they returned again and again.
"Oh, I plan to," the blonde said ominously.
Curious about the relationship between the two strangers, I watched them go to a table at the back. I went into the kitchen to check on the buns in the oven and decided it was time to pull them out. After buttering them, I let them sit and returned to the front.
I checked on the teens and saw that the brunette was sitting on the blonde's lap, feeding her the eclair.
This was an elegant bakery in the heart of downtown. While I had no problem having two teenagers in my shop dressed a little too slutty for midday, I certainly didn't want them creating a scene in my establishment.
I walked over to them and asked frostily, "What are you two young ladies doing?"
The blonde looked up at me and explained matter-of-factly, "My pet is feeding me."
"Your what?" I asked, hearing her, but not believing what I heard.
The blonde explained, "My pet. She's serving me now, and later she'll get her dessert."
Perturbed, and not wanting anything scandalous going on in my shop, I said, "I don't know what you two are up to, but you need to leave now!"
The blonde smiled, "Are you sure? You might like to watch this."
Maybe it was the months without sex, or the fact that these girls reminded me of a sexy scene from the movie '9Β½ Weeks', but although I didn't want to admit it openly, there was something erotic about watching the one girl feeding the other. Though the fact that it was two girls dampened the effect for me a bit.
Speaking of damp, I thought I could feel myself getting that way.
Are you kidding me?
I thought to myself. These two silly girls needed to go, and I seriously need to get laid soon!
"Out!" I ordered firmly, "And before you come back, learn some manners."
"We'll certainly be back," the blonde grinned. She added, looking at me, "There are sweets yet for you to sample."
I shook my head, thinking the girl had misspoken in her silliness, "I'm the one with the best bakery in town, I don't need to sample someone else's sweets."
"Let's go, my pet," the blonde ordered with a devious smile.
"Yes, Mistress," the brunette replied subserviently.
I couldn't believe it as I watched the submissive interactions. I had been submissive to my husband, loving the feeling of letting go and just doing as I was told. I loved sex and I loved having my boundaries pushed. My first time anal, my first time being fisted, and my one and only threesome while in Mexico with my ex-husband, all were acts done in obedience to him. All were things I wasn't interested in originally, yet all three brought me intense pleasure and satisfying orgasms once I shut off my moral code, just obeyed, and experienced the complete freedom of becoming a complete slut for a night.
Man, did I need to be a slut for a night... or for an entire weekend.
I watched them leave before returning to my work, the after-work rush about an hour away. I tried to ignore the tingling in my pussy for now, knowing I'd be using my vibrator tonight.
...
That evening, it was about six minutes to closing time after an excruciatingly long, busy day, when I heard the ping and sighed. I just wanted to go home.
I asked, not even looking up, "May I help you?"
"We're back," a feminine voice said.
I looked up and saw the same two girls from earlier in the day... this time dressed in even sluttier outfits, as if they were about to go out clubbing.
Man, when was the last time I went out clubbing?
I thought to myself. Tired, and wanting to go home, I warned, "I hope you girls aren't back for more shenanigans. It's been a long day, and I'm about to close."
"No, no," the blonde said, shaking her head, "Katherine can have her dessert now."
Katherine,
I thought, then for some reason,