I had my first baking class today, and it was... overwhelming. Not because of the recipes, but because the instructor kept leaning over me to adjust my grip on the rolling pin. His breath on my neck made my cheeks burn, and I swear my thighs were shaking the whole time. All I could think about was how much I wanted him to push me onto the counter and fuck me right there, flour dusting my tits as he pounded into me. The way his hands moved, so confident and precise—I imagined them gripping my hips, pulling me onto his cock until I was begging for more. Maybe next time I’ll "accidentally" spill sugar on my blouse and see if he offers to help me clean up. (Mood: flustered)