Carrot Cake groaned.
He eased himself into the rickety office chair and leaned back, sitting down for the first time in ten hours-- or possibly ever, by the ache in his feet. And his legs. Back. Shoulders. Really, the whole of his body had been transformed into one giant nerve receptor, all for the singular sensation of dull, pervasive pain.
But it had been worth it. Right? So many orders to fill, so many smiling people-- that counted for something, right? Something beyond the tidy amount of cash he'd just slipped into the office safe, at least. But now, with the last orders of the weekend filled, and Sugarcube Corner's sign turned around to 'closed,' there was nothing for him to do but sit. And ache.
“Hi there, Mr Cake!” Pinkie's familiar, cheery voice said from somewhere behind him.
“Hi Pinkie.” Too tired to even turn around, Carrot Cake just slumped down further in his chair. “You're back from your delivery already?”
“Yup! I told you I could get there and back before Mrs Cake got back from her supply run!”
“Good for you, Pinkie.” Carrot Cake lolled his head back and closed his eyes. “That's all we had for today-- you can go hang out with your friends if you want.”
“I could.” Pinkie Pie said, thoughtful. “But ... do you know what day it is, Mr Cake?”
Carrot Cake paused, running through schedules and calendars in his head. “I'm ... not sure, honestly. This last week has just been a blur.”
“Oh, silly!” Pinkie Pie giggled, and soon Carrot Cake felt gentle fingers kneading at his tense shoulders. Warm breath washed over the baker's ear as Pinkie leaned in closer. “It's the first of the month. You know what that means, right?”
The wet tip of Pinkie's tongue grazed Carrot's earlobe, and an electric thrill coursed through his body, making him forget the day's pains. He opened his eyes-- at which point Pinkie Pie spun his office chair around so he could get a look at her.
Pinkie Pie looked down at Carrot Cake with a playful yet hungry smile. She wore a frilly cotton apron-- and nothing else. The apron was intentionally too small, struggling to contain Pinkie's voluptuous curves, its hem just barely covering her thick, rounded thighs. As Pinkie leaned over Carrot Cake, her heavy breasts pushed against the apron, and one thick nipple popped free.
Carrot Cake blinked, momentarily struck dumb by the glorious sight of his mostly-undressed assistant. He squirmed in his seat, already feeling his cock swell within the too-tight confines of his pants. The baker opened and closed his mouth a few times, brain scrambling for words. “We can't--”
“Sssh.” Pinkie Pie held a finger to Carrot's lips, and he shut up. “No talking. Just let me take care of you, kay?” And with a wink, Pinkie Pie sank down to her knees in front of him. Carrot Cake nodded dumbly, then stared down at the vast, tempting expanse of Pinkie's decolletage even as she neatly undid Carrot's fly, allowing his hardening cock to flop free. This done, Pinkie grabbed the waist of Carrot Cake's pants and yanked them downward, dragging his boxers to his ankles, hobbling him.
“But my wife--”
“Is a lucky woman!” Pinkie Pie giggled, going slightly crosseyed as she focused on the long shaft bobbing in front of her. She soon wrapped her fingers around the shaft and started pumping away, soon getting Carrot Cake to full hardness. “I mean, she gets to play with this all the time.” She opened her mouth, leaning in-- and then paused, looking up at Carrot Cake. “Now, Mr. Cake ... can I suck your cock?”
“... yes.” With Pinkie's talented fingers around his cock, with her warm breath washing over the head, Carrot Cake knew he couldn't resist. Knew he didn't want to.
“Yay!” Pinkie's triumphant giggles trailed off into muffled slurpings as she eagerly took Carrot Cake between her lips. Her pink hair wobbled as she bobbed up and down on Carrot's prick, tongue weaving little patterns on the hard, hot flesh. After a few moments, she pulled away, allowing the cock to escape her lips with a wet 'pop,' as if she were sucking on a lollipop. Pinkie met eyes with the already-panting Carrot Cake, and then made it a point to push her middle finger between her lips, wetting it with her saliva. This done, she slowly eased her finger out ... and then reached forward to toy with Carrot Cake's heavy balls.
“Mmmm. You know what comes next, dontcha?” Pinkie said with a wink.
“Y-yes.”
“And you love this part, dontcha?”
“Yes.” Carrot swallowed and tightened his fingers around the armrests of his chair. His heart beat faster and faster, each pulse amplifying his lust, making him even harder.
“Yes, who?” Pinkie's smile grew even wider.
“Yes--” Carrot huffed out another breath, and closed his eyes. “Mistress.”
“Good boy!” Pinkie cheered. With that said, she wiggled her hand past Carrot's balls, and teased her spit-slicked finger around his tight, puckered asshole. She leaned in closer, cheek brushing the side of Carrot's cock as she gazed up at him, confidently in control even on her knees. With easy familiarity, she pushed her finger into Carrot cake's ass, earning the loudest moan from him yet. A moment later, Pinkie started sucking on Carrot's cock again, moving in loose rhythm with the finger she worked in and out of his ass.
Carrot Cake choked out another gasping, wordless moan, trapped as he was between Pinkie's strong finger and expert tongue. He looked down at the top of Pinkie's head, unable to do anything but squirm as the pink haired young woman sucked him, fucked him. Lewd sounds filled the bakery; the creak of the chair, the wet slurp of Pinkie's lips, the creak of hinges from the back door--
Oh no.
Carrot Cake tried to say something-- anything-- but Pinkie just pulled drew back a little, all the better to twirl her dextrous tongue around the thick head of Carrot's cock, stealing the ability to speak from him. Focused as she was on Carrot's cock, there was no way Pinkie could see Carrot's wife Cup Cake walk into the bakery-- and stare through the open doorway. And with Carrot's pants around his ankles, and Pinkie wearing nothing but that apron, there was no way Cup Cake could not know what was happening.
Carrot looked into the wide, surprised eyes of his wife-- and came.
His cock flexed, pulsed, seemingly drawing in every bit of energy he had-- and pumped it straight into Pinkie's waiting mouth. She made a surprised, muffled sound, and pulled away, seed already dripping from her lips. A second spurt painted Pinkie's cheeks with Carrot's hot, sticky cum, and a third spattered against her tits.
Finally, Carrot's stamina gave out, and he slumped into his chair, winded and panting, cheeks flushed bright red as he sat there beneath his wife's surprised gaze. Finally, she spoke.
“Couldn't wait for me, huh?” Cup Cake arched an eyebrow.
“Oh! Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie bounced to her feet, which set her whole body to jiggling. “Hi there! I was wondering when you'd get home!” Pinkie Pie undid the tie strings to her apron, then wadded the fabric up so she could dab Carrot's white jism from her face and chest. Once she was mostly clean, she tossed the apron aside and cuddled her naked, curvy self against Cup Cake's even curvier (but actually dressed) body. “It was my idea-- Mr. Cake just looked soooo tired, and I knew he'd been working sooo hard, that I just had to give him a treat! But don't worry, I didn't forget about you!” Pinkie Pie planted a cheery, sticky kiss on Cup Cake's cheek, then brought a hand up to squeeze at her ample chest. “I mean, we've got all night don't we? So let's get you two naked and then we'll all head upstairs. Doesn't that sound fun?”
Cup Cake met her husband's eyes, then allowed herself an anticipatory shiver. “That does sound nice.” She said.
“Ah! You know the rule.” Pinkie mock-scolded the older woman, then brought a hand down on her skirt-clad rump in a playful spank.
Cup Cake lidded her eyes, wet her lips.
“That sounds nice ... Mistress.”
