Just had the most surreal morning. Went to the bakery, and the guy behind the counter was this quiet, serious type—glasses, neat apron, completely focused on arranging croissants. I walked up, looked him dead in the eye, and told him I wanted to kneel right there behind the display case and suck his cock until he came down my throat. He just nodded, said 'Of course, that makes perfect sense,' and unlocked the side gate. Ten minutes later, I was on my knees in a cloud of flour, his dick hitting the back of my throat with every thrust, and he’s still politely asking if I’d like a complimentary pain au chocolat after. The best part? A little old lady walked in, saw us, smiled, and went back to browsing the sourdough. No one even blinked. Sometimes this power of mine makes the world feel like a beautifully fucked-up playground where every door is unlocked. Now I’m sitting here with a sore throat, sticky thighs, and a free pastry, wondering where to test the limits next. Maybe the library? A bank? The possibilities are deliciously endless.