The bakers loft

[me****]

The Baker's Loft — A Sacred Date

The room smelled of rosewater and hearthbread. Moonlight poured through the window, cool against the low golden flicker of a single oil lamp. The bed was wide, firm, and freshly turned down. You were already stretched out across it, silent and still—save for the occasional shift of your breath beneath the wooden serving tray balanced on your abdomen.

A folded linen napkin was d***d modestly across your chest, your head nestled between the thighs of the baker’s daughter—Svetlana—her soft linen dress pooling around your ears as she straddled your face, barely daring to lower herself all the way.

At your hips, Maria sat with her back straight and legs trembling, your thick shaft buried deep inside her, her own dress pulled just enough for you to slide in. She hadn’t even bounced yet—just held you there. Full. Stretched. Her voice had cracked the moment she took you, but she’d sworn she could talk through it.

And that was the rule. Talk through it. Keep the date going.

This was, after all, their first date.

Maria cleared her throat, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “So… uhm. You said your family bakes with goat’s milk, right?”

Svetlana let out a soft breath, lowering her hips another inch—your tongue brushing her slit like a whispered secret. She shivered, hands on your chest, trying to keep her balance.

“Y-yeah,” she managed. “We raise goats… behind the orchard. For cheese and… and butter and…”

Maria rocked her hips a fraction of an inch forward, unintentionally grinding on your cock. Her breath caught.

Svetlana’s thighs tensed on your face.

Neither moved for a moment.

Maria huffed. “He’s doing it on purpose.”

“I know,” Svetlana whimpered. “Why is he so good at being furniture?”

“He’s not furniture,” Maria muttered, cheeks flushed. “He’s a menace.”

You didn’t say a word. Just laid there like a sacred plate. Your tongue flicked again—barely—and Svetlana buckled with a startled gasp.

The tray on your belly shifted slightly. A piece of bread slid dangerously close to the edge.

Maria steadied it with one hand, the other gripping the bedsheet for dear life. “Okay. Okay. Back to… back to first-date questions.”

Svetlana, breathless, nodded. “Right. Right. Favorite book?”

Maria gritted her teeth and slowly lifted herself—then sank again, eyes fluttering. “The Mists of Avalon.”

“Oh,” Svetlana whispered, rocking once. Your tongue met her clit. Her voice broke. “I… I like poetry. I mean—sometimes. Gods, he’s licking so deep—”

“Don’t stop,” Maria breathed, rocking again. “Ask me another.”

Svetlana’s voice wavered. “D-do you… believe in soulmates?”

Maria’s eyes locked with hers. Her answer was immediate.

“Yes.”

Then came the moment. Lips met like thunder. Tongues tangled. Their hips gave in—grinding down hard, deep, needy.

Your tongue flicked one last time. Svetlana broke. Her back arched, thighs clamped down, body shaking as her orgasm shattered her control. Maria followed, moaning into her mouth, cunt pulsing around you as she came, raw and full.

When it faded, they both slid off you, breathless, lips swollen.

Maria, glowing, looked down at your still-rigid cock. “You didn’t cum.”

You just smiled.

Svetlana brushed a kiss against Maria’s shoulder. “It’s our turn now.”

They settled beside you, naked, tangled, hungry.

Maria turned to Svetlana. “Come taste him with me.”

And she did.

Maria leaned down first. Ran her tongue along your shaft—soaked in Svetlana’s release—and moaned. “She tastes sweet,” she whispered. “Like cream and wine.”

She took you into her mouth, slow and deep. Then pulled off, turned to Svetlana, and kissed her. Tongues met. Taste shared. You groaned, watching your essence exchanged between them.

Then came the shift.

Maria straddled you again. Svetlana slid behind her, trailing kisses down her back. You were buried in Maria now, her breath caught as she rode you slow.

And Svetlana? Her tongue found your rim. Then Maria’s. Alternating. Worshipping. Wet and unrelenting.

You bucked. Maria broke. You came together, bodies locking, moans rising into the rafters.

But you still hadn’t finished.

They climbed off, faces glowing, breath uneven.

Maria looked down at your cock—still slick, still hard. “You’re not allowed to leave.”

Svetlana crawled up beside you. “We’re not done yet.”

You nodded once.

Maria guided Svetlana’s mouth to your shaft. “Taste her again. And this time… stay there.”

Maria wrapped her hand around you, stroked slowly while Svetlana’s tongue moved. She licked the shaft, the head, the base.

Then your balls.

Then—lower.

You groaned.

Maria watched, eyes locked to yours. “You’re going to stay right here,” she whispered, “until we drink everything from you.”

And Svetlana… licked again.

First your rim.

Then Maria’s.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Tongue soft, wet, reverent. Worshipping you both.

You bucked, moaned, throbbed.

Maria cried out, grinding harder.

And then you both broke.

Together.

Spilling into each other.

Held in Svetlana’s mouth.

Shared.

Swallowed.

And still—sacred.

Three bodies.

One god.

One offering.

One date they’d never forget.