FORBIDDEN ACT WITH MY BAKING SCHOOL CHEF

LOLA

My stomach grumbled from not having anything to eat since last night.

I wasn't too comfortable to eat from Connor's, and I was too anxious to eat before leaving the house.

I thought about ordering a take out, but then, the consequences that would come from Eddy checking my order description and his demeaning words on my body size of two years made me lose my appetite.

"F*ck it!" I cussed against my breath, making a mental note to visit the closest bakery as soon as I could get a break from the classes.

"The chef is unusually late today," a blonde woman with a disturbingly heavy make-up sitting in front of me spoke, forcing me to check my own time only to find out that we had been sitting for over an hour waiting for the first lesson of the day.

My stomach grumbled more and louder, forcing the skinny woman sitting beside me to give me a dead ass scrutinizing look.

"I'm sorry. I skipped breakfast," I muttered, staring apologetically in her direction.

In response, she shook her head as if to say "it's none of my business."

I smirked rudely, adjusting in my seat, beating myself for giving in every time to the plights of humans.

"Good morning, everyone. I apologise for being late on my first day. Maybe I was actually having cold feet," a muffled laughter rose from a part of the class, "but I promise to do my best as your chef for today's class."

The man was tall, perfectly groomed hair and beards, a clean cut suit that embraced his stature perfectly, then a smile that made everyone forget that he had kept us waiting for so long with just a playful apology in return.

He took a little bow in front of the class as soon as he finished talking, and a loud clapping erupted from the class.

My stomach wouldn't stop rumbling as I joined in the clapping, just so as not to be singled out as the one odd person.

"Isn't he such a cutie?" the blonde old lady with the heavy make-up said, jamming her hands louder and longer than any other person.

"My name is Clementine. Sounds feminine, I know, but it is what it is."

Another laughter erupted from the other students, but I couldn't even pretend to see the joke in what he had just said, so I scuffed, looking away.

"We're going to begin as soon as we can with a topic you'd rather learn today from the lesson outline"

"I need someone to choose the topic so it wouldn't look like I am teaching from my convenience."

How eyes rolled from one side of the class to another until it fell on me, lingering for some seconds. I didn't look away. I didn't want to give him the wrong impression that he had also won me over.

"Okay! Let's have the pretty lady with the killer curves."

He sounded like an assh*le, yet the other student cheered him loudly.

"You can look at the scheme and tell me what you'd like for us to look at today and I will follow your lead."

Scuffing, I grabbed the class sheets off my table and glanced quickly through them, finally settling on a topic about cake decoration and icy coating.

"Topic 6," I replied simply, hoping he doesn't get to speak to me again.

"That's a good one. Get your materials ready. It's going to be hands-on practical and do not hesitate to ask me if you have any questions."

I ran my fingers through my hair impatiently, before holding them together with a ribbon.

We were ushered to the working corners, handed aprons and then taken through the processes that the topic demanded.

More than twice during the course of the lesson, I had locked eyes with chef Clementine and he would always smile at me, but I never reciprocated.

While I worked on my table, I couldn't ignore the discomfort that twisted my stomach. I wasn't sure why I felt the way I did, but I couldn't shake it off no matter how much I tried.

Because of this, I messed up my cake designs so many times, sighing at every wrong smear my spatula made across the coloring.

I was still struggling to shape a ring around the cake base after trying over and over again when I felt a movement across one edge of my shoulder to the other.

I winced sharply, turning immediately with a careless arm swing, almost hitting his jaw, except that he was in time to duck.

"Hmmm," he grunted as he adjusted his collar.

I swallowed, rolling my eyes helplessly at the awkwardness of it all.

"Do you want to attempt it again? I don't think you can," he said, inspecting my messy cake design like it was an undeserving project.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say — I could do with some help, but I'd rather someone else.

"Relax!" he commanded, moving in towards me from behind.

I gasped when his body crashed against mine, my skin stiffening to the shock.

"Easy. Don't force yourself. Take it easy," he continued, his words throwing me off completely.

"What do you think you are...," I gasped to the heavy hardness of chef Clementine's cock against my butt.

His fingers slid down my arms, finding my wrists.

I flinched, the rest of the words I should have said slipping right through my lips into the void of my shamelessness.

"Let yourself go," he whispered in my left ear, his voice calm and tempting.

He was holding my hand now, and pushing the icing cone to form a puddle of colors on the cake.

I didn't mind. The cake can go to hell, I was ready to lose a good performance point as long as this moment would continue — that had to be recorded as the most terrible thought I have ever had. To think that a moment ago, his presence nauseated me, and now...

The icing cone dangled from the tip of my fingers as he rammed more into me. His cock, hard and full, poked me through the friction of the material of our clothes as I ached my back to lean in better into the effect.

"That's right. Keep working. Nice and easy," he whispered breezily into my ears, nibbing softly at its outer skin.

I gasped, shutting my eyes and swallowing to the slow rotation that ring our waist together, hoping the rest of the class don't get to figure it out.