no

"I just can't leave you with all the orders. Maybe I could help, so you would be done earlier," I suggest. "I know I'm not as highly skilled as you are. So... you have to order me around since I'm the new guy."

"Well, if you really want to help, you can wash those pans and clear that table."

I collect the pans and place them inside the dishwasher.

"And what is your reason for choosing to work in a bakery?" she finally asks.

"I'm saving money for school... I intend to take up engineering, so I'm interested in machines... and a bakery is one of the places that has lots of machines. So, I earn, and I also learn." I say as I wipe the tabletop with a damp cloth.

"Oh?" she says, apparently surprised by my answer.

"Work done by people can actually be done by machines... if you are observant enough to find the patterns, the cycles..." I rinse the cloth and wipe the tabletop a second time.

"Really?"

"Yes. Like for instance, you work very much more efficiently than I do. So, if I could take a video of all your actions, and divide them into component movements, then I can have simple machines do each movement, and combine them into a bigger machine... then, you won't need to hire people who can bake. You'll just need the machine."

"Oh no. So you intend to put me out of business?" she says in jest.

"Not really. That would keep you in the business, actually. You don't have to feed the machine, or bring it to a doctor when it gets sick. Just make a couple of similar machines, and if one breaks down, you could just replace it... But it's just all talk. I don't have the money for the experiments... the research... but if I had, I could maybe try it in your bakery, if Henry would not mind, that is.

She stops what she is doing and looks at me intently. "You know John, I've never seen this bakery in the way that you have seen it. Your ideas really have me thinking."

"That's because I love to tinker, so my mind sees things from that perspective. But there are things that I don't easily see."

"Things like what?" she asks.

"Well, for example, everytime I look at you, it's like you look very familiar, but since I'm not into fashion shows... or even TV reruns of fashion shows, then I don't see who you really are."

Coleen appears to not to have heard what I said as the timer starts ringing again. I then remove more pans from the oven. Suddenly, another beeping starts. Coleen rushes to the locker and retrieves her phone. Her talk is drowned by the whirl of the mixer. Finally, she returns and says, "Henry will not be returning today. Says, his back is giving him some problems."

"That means that I really have to stay until the orders are complete. You can't just cancel orders for food."

We now work with a more focused disposition, intentionally avoiding small talk. We finally complete the orders an hour earlier. After the last order is claimed, we clean up the baking area.

"I'm really starved," I say. "Maybe I could have some of those unsold goodies in the display?" I ask Coleen.

"Sure, help yourself," she replies.

"Last night when I started working here, Henry gave me a paper bag full of these." I say as I nibble on a piece of cookie. "When I brought it home, my girlfriend said, she'd grow fat if I brought home a bag every night, so I'm not bringing home any bag tonight."

Coleen laughs. "So you have a girlfriend?"

I nod.

"And what does she say about your working here?"

"She doesn't mind at all."

"I guess we should change out of our aprons," Coleen suggests.

"I agree," I say, as I follow her to the locker. My cock now begins to harden as I view Coleen's naked backside-- with her lace panties and bra strap as the only impediment.

When we reach the locker, Coleen unties the straps of my apron, while I also untie hers in return. My hardon is now more pronounced.

I turn my back and slide into my cargo pants, but the effect worsens. The tenting is now larger as I watch her get into her turtleneck sweater. "I'm really sorry Coleen," I say.

"For what?" she asks.

"I may have insulted you by sporting a hardon in front of you... but my cock does not do what my mind commands it to do. It always stands at attention in the presence of beauty." I blush as recognition finally dawns on me.

"It's okay, John." Coleen says as she gives me a light peck on the cheek. "But why are you blushing?"

"You're Coleen Cooper, right? The supermodel?"

She nods and smiles. "You don't have to blush."

"I can't face you... I'm so ashamed of myself."

"Why?"

After hesitating a bit, I start. "Once, when my girlfriend was not around, I masturbated to a picture of you... the one where you were like tied to a post and your clothes were torn in so many places... It's really embarassing to finally meet you and recall what I did to your picture."

Coleen grins and kisses me on the lips. "I can't stop anyone from thinking those thoughts about me, especially since those pictures were meant to tease.... And what happened to my picture? Do you still have it? Do you need my autograph?"

I shake my head. "I had to throw the picture away, as it was soaked in my cum."

"You mean, my picture made that happen?"

I nod. My phone beeps and I glance at the text message. I shake my head-- a look of dejection on my face.

"What's the problem?"

"My girlfriend just recently explored her lesbian side."

"And?"

"And she appeared confused. So I introduced her to the lesbian roommate of my former colleague."

"So, you allowed her. What's the problem?"

"She wants to spend the night with her!"

"And? You didn't expect that to happen?"

"I really don't know if it was the right thing to do in the first place... and it means, I'll be alone tonight in my girlfriend's apartment. So I'd like to ask you a favor... Please don't get mad at me."

"What favor are you asking?"

"I'd like to ask a couple of your topless photos, to keep me occupied tonight."

Coleen grins at me. "I really admire your honesty and frankness. What if you come with me to my place, so you get to choose what you like."

"Really?"

"Yes," she says.

I follow her out of the bakery and we lock the doors behind us. "I still can't believe this is happening to me." I remark as we head for her car-- which was actually a truck-- a 4x4 pickup truck.

Before we enter, she asks, "Can I have your phone?" I hand her my phone. She sets it to take a selfie. She then puts her arms around me, and while her lips are planted on my cheeks, she takes a selfie-- and another from a different angle. "Now, you have evidence to brag about to your friends."

We enter her truck, she starts the ignition, and we slowly head for the outskirts. "Most women I know would prefer a car over a truck," I say.

"I'm not most women... and since I like the outdoors, I'd prefer something like this." After a while she says, "I find it untypical for a man to allow his girlfriend to go with a known lesbian. What if she chooses her over you?"

"That means, she is happy there. So why **** her to be with me?"

"And what if you really love her?"

"If I love her, then I wouldn't want her to be unhappy.... even if it means releasing her to be with somebody else."

"You've such a mature outlook in life, and you're what? 25?"

"No. I'm 23."

"When I was 23, my mind was always asking, 'Am I beautiful?' Now that I'm 35, I realize that beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"But there are universal standards of beauty... Mathematically, beauty is symmetry-- your left boob is as large as your right boob... and you really are beautiful."

"Thanks," she replies. "I often get that from those who want to get into my pants."

"It's just your photos that I'm really after. When I get them, I'm gone." I am tempted to ask whether she was living with someone. "Do you live alone?" I ask.

"Yes," she replies. "I've been living alone for over eight years now. Before that, I shared my space with my girlfriends."

"You don't feel lonely?"

"Sometimes, but you soon get used to it. Sometimes, my girlfriends come for a visit." After a while, she says, "Here we are." As we enter a gate with security guards, she waves at them as we pass. We travel farther inside, passing by other houses before arriving at her place. We enter some sort of underground parking. It is a huge garage for a single person. A variety of vehicles are inside.

"You have quiet a collection here," I say, eyeing her garage.

"Some are not really my choice, I just modeled in them."

"Yes, I recognize that red car. You were draped on the hood... and that motorbike... you were in fishnet stockings and knee-length boots.." The tenting in my pants is quite visible again.

"So? You remember my shoots to the detail?"

"Of course," I say, staring her with awe. "I'd close my eyes and imagine being there with you... doing things to you..."

"What did you imagine yourself doing to me?" She asks with interest, as I follow her into an elevator.

I shake my head and look down. "I just feel so embarassed..."

The ding of the elevator signals our exit. We enter her living room. She depresses some buttons on a panel in the wall. "Need a drink?" she asks. "Help yourself," she adds, pointing to a large ref with glass doors.

I choose a fruity drink. "How about you?" I ask.

"Same as yours," she says.

I hand her her bottle and she gulps it down before I finish mine.

"Come here. I want you to look at me," she says as she pulls off her turtleneck sweater. "Now, take off my bra."

I approach her from behind. My hands shake as I fumble with the hook. "You're like some goddess, and I'm a mere mortal. I feel so undeserving."

"And history is full of relationships between goddesses and mortals, right? Now take off my panties too."

I comply. After I place all her underwear on top of her sweater, I look at her in awe. My cock is trying to escape the confines of my briefs.

"Now could you demonstrate to me what you imagined you'd do to me?" she says, as she does one of her magazine poses.