Chuck Tingle
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The Sentient Bread I Just Baked Is A Lesbian And She Eats My Ass - (Classic Tingler Revisited)
🕑 Added 2023-02-20 17:12:33 +0000 UTCanother tingler turned audiobook means another treat for the patreon buckaroos as THE SENTIENT BREAD I JUST BAKED IS A LESBIAN AND SHE EATS MY ASS. very interesting to revisit this one as it takes place and was written at height of covid where everyone was trottin around inside watchin shows and reading books in a lockdown. they were also BAKIN BREAD which is where idea came from.
chuck enjoys this one because DANG who doesnt like bread. give old chuck some bread and butter and i am SET. get ready because i will just spoil my whole dang meal
anyway please enjoy this classic tingler LOVE IS REAL
Nicole’s time in quarantine is starting to get difficult. She’s reached the end of all streaming television and movies, and her hobby of gardening didn’t quite work out as expected. Fortunately, attempting her hand at baking some bread has put a spring in Nicole’s step.
After a trip to the store and an evening in the kitchen, Nicole finds herself with a particularly sexy loaf of bread named Grimla. The two of them hit it off immediately, but their connection quickly turns sexual when Grimla reveals her desire to eat a little ass.
Now Nicole and her beautiful baked good are locked in hardcore lesbian taste test that will warm your heart… and your butt.
This erotic tale is 4,100 words of sizzling human on sentient bread loaf action and lesbian baked good love.
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THE SENTIENT BREAD I JUST BAKED IS A LESBIAN AND SHE EATS MY ASS
By Chuck Tingle
Suddenly finding yourself locked down in a worldwide quarantine provides a lot of time for new hobbies.
At first, I was happy to simply kick back and work my way through as many streaming shows as possible, but eventually it felt as though I’d come to the end of that road. Every movie had been consumed, and every television series had been thoroughly enjoyed or despised. At least, that’s how it seemed.
Before this virus started sweeping across the nation, the idea of running out of content seemed absolutely ridiculous, but a lot has changed in the last few months.
The first new thing I started doing was to try my hand at gardening. I never had much of a green thumb, but I’m fortunate enough to live in an apartment that features a deck, and getting outside as much as possible seemed like something to shoot for. I bought a few plants and fell into a daily routine of watering and caring for them.
For the first few days it seemed like everything was going well. My garden was healthy and green, and I was able to keep up with the schedule that I’d set for myself. Eventually, though, they all started to wilt and die. Soon enough, I was forced to throw away every last one of them, feeling defeated in the complete and unequivocal failure of my gardening experiment.
On my way out to the dumpster with the corpses of my plants, I remember locking eyes with another one of the tenants of my apartment complex. I felt like I was caught red handed, my utter failure on display. I decided that, whatever my next quarantine hobby was, I was going to dive in with everything I’ve got. After all, why do something if you’re only going to give it half the effort?
Still, I wasn’t sure what I’d fill my time with until I saw I video that my friend shared on social media. It was simple enough, without any frills or gimmicks, just a short clip of my dear friend enjoying the bread that she’d just baked from scratch.
I could do that, I thought to myself.
Now, here I am at the grocery store with a mask over my face, gazing in utter confusion at the shelves of ingredients as I struggle to figure out what I’ll need. I made a list, and bread should be simple enough, but I’m still having trouble finding what I’m looking for.
Suddenly, it hits me. I’m only having trouble because these ingredients have been picked over.
I turn to my left and gaze down the aisle of this jam-packed grocery store, then turn to my right as well. There’s a whole line of others who have the same aspirations of bread baking that I do, glancing down at the lists in their hands and then back up at the shelves before them in confusion.
Fortunately, I’ve only got one ingredient left, the others safely tucked away in my basket. Maybe they’ll have flour available at another store.
I turn and begin to make my way to the front register.
“Psst! Hey!” someone calls out.
I quickly turn to see an employee peeking out around a corner. I begin to walk towards him, confused, but he holds up his hand to stop me.
“Six feet!” he shouts, an important reminder. I’m still getting used to all of this.
“Sorry about that,” I apologize.
“You looking for flour?” he questions.
I nod, a confused look working its way across my face. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“Everyone’s looking for flour,” he explains. “Baking bread is huge right now.”
“I can tell,” I reply with a laugh. “It looks like you’re all sold out.”
The employee smiles knowingly. “Not entirely.”
My eyes go wide as he pulls a small sack of flower out of his coat, glancing back and forth to make sure nobody else notices this sacred and difficult to find ingredient. “Is that for me?” I question.
The employee nods. “Yes… but you’ve gotta understand something. This isn’t just another bag of flour. The bread you bake with this is going to be absolutely gorgeous. I just want to prepare you.”
“Why would that matter?” I question, slightly confused.
“If you’re already dating someone, then it might make things complicated,” the employee clarifies. “This isn’t a can of worms you want to open unless you’re single or, you know, in an open relationship or something.”
“Oh, okay,” I reply with an understanding nod. “I’m single. We’re all good.”
I appreciate his warning, but now I’m curious about just how hot this bread is going to get. I’d been planning on making the most aesthetically pleasing loaf that I could, but on my first attempts I was really just hoping to get something out of the oven that isn’t burnt to a crisp or flattened like a pancake. Now I’m feeling a little intimidated.
The employee sets his bag of flour down on the ground and then steps back, giving me some room to come and pick it up. I approach cautiously, snatching up the sack and then nodding at the guy who gave it to me, offering a sincere thank you.
Adding these ingredients together should be simple enough. After all, people have been baking bread for thousands of years, and the process of doing so is pretty much etched in stone at this point.
Still, I have a hell of a time trying to follow the instructions that I downloaded online and printed out for myself. I’ve heard that baking is an incredibly exact process, and I want to stay true to the science. Therefore, most of my time here in the kitchen is spent checking and rechecking various measurements before adding them to my mixing bowl.
It’s a hell of a process, and I’m just about halfway done when I realize that I’ve completely missed a step. I’m forced to go back to the beginning and start all over.
Fortunately, I’ve got enough supplies to manage a few mistakes like this. I’ll survive, and the bread will be fine, but the damage this particular incident delivers to my confidence is worth noting.
I don’t know if I can start the process all over again. Flashes of dead plants begin to erupt through my mind, the ghosts of a previously failed hobby taunting me.
“Pull it together, Nicole,” I say to myself. “You’ve got this.”
I start by pulling out the measuring cups again, but then hesitate. I know I should measure things precisely, but something within the depths of my soul just doesn’t care. I understand the basics of this process, especially after going through a slightly abbreviated version just moments earlier. I should be able to carry out this recipe on my own.
In a moment of inspiration, I take the recipe and tear it up, tossing it into the garbage can nearby before continuing with my culinary experiment. I want this bread to be a part of me, to pour all of the love I’ve got into one simple loaf. If things don’t turn out the way I want them too… whatever, oh well. They’ll be plenty more chances to bake in the future.
I start adding ingredients and mixing them together, going about this strange and exciting process while trusting my instincts along the way. The guy at the grocery store had promised something very powerful at the end of this road, and I’m included to agree, but not for the same reasons.
Sure, the flour might be magic, but right now the real magic is in the care and love that I’m putting into my process. All the yearning that I have for contact with the outside world has been transformed into this new, exciting hobby, and then directly injected into the ball of dough that I now hold in my hands.
This is going to be something special, I decide. If I can’t spread love out there in the big wide world, then I want to spread it right here and now. I want to make the best damn loaf of bread that I possibly can, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
I finally finish the initial creation process and pop my dough into the often, stepping back with a surprising amount of confidence. I can’t wait to see how this all turns out.
Unfortunately, the only thing left to do at this point is to, in fact, wait.
As the minutes tick by I struggle to focus on something else, anything to keep me from watching the clock and counting down to a big reveal. It’s only when I do finally forget this process that I arrive at the end of the road.
With the moment of truth upon me, I didn’t expect to be this nervous. I’m gazing at the oven, wondering what lies within and achingly curious about the consequences of my culinary experiment.
What if my bread baking hobby is just as much of a failure as my foray into gardening?
Of course, waiting around like this isn’t improving my chances of a well baked loaf. If anything, the more I hesitate, the more likely I am to burn something.
I take a deep breath and let it out, then open up the oven door.
“Oh my god,” I blurt, the bread spilling out towards me.
When I’d placed the cold ingredients within they were much, much smaller. Now, an absolutely enormous loaf begins to unfold, climbing forth from the rectangular containment of the oven and standing up to greet me.
“Hi,” the bread offers.
The guy at the grocery store wasn’t kidding, this bread is absolutely gorgeous. She’s so beautifully sculpted that I have a hard time finding my words, lost in a trace as my eyes gaze upon her in complete amazement.
“Hi,” I finally stammer. “I’m Nicole.”
“I’m Grimla,” the bread informs me. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” I reply. “Do you wanna sit down? Can I get you anything?”
“It was really hot in the oven,” the sentient food replies. “I’d love to have a glass of water. I’ve never drank anything before so I’m really looking forward to this.”
I nod and stroll over to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out a jug of filtered water. I pour Grimla a tall glass and hand it over.
The living bread takes the water and tosses it back without hesitation, gulping down the whole thing in a single, enthusiastic chug. She finishes quickly and hands the empty glass back to me, satisfied.
“Whoa, that was amazing,” Grimla gushs. “What a flavor!”
I laugh. “Honestly, water is good but that’s about the most basic flavor you can have. There’s all kinds of other drinks.”
“Really?” the loaf of bread continues. “Like what?”
I take her empty glass and open up the fridge again, pulling out a carton of chocolate milk and giving Grimla a generous pour. “This is chocolate milk. You’re gonna fucking love it.”
I hand over the cup and watch as this living loaf hesitates, Grimla visually taking in the thick brown liquid with skeptical curiosity. Eventually, her expression transforms into a smile as she tosses back the glass for another massive chug. She takes down the liquid in another single slurp movement, before wiping her lips with a satisfied smile.
“Whoa,” the beautiful sentient bread offers, nodding in approval. “That’s really, really good. Why bother with that water stuff when you’ve got chocolate milk?”
“I ask myself that same question every day,” I inform her.
Grimla begins to look around. “So, this is your apartment?” she questions. The sentient food steps out of my kitchen and begins to investigate, picking up various objects from the table or shelf and looking them over, then setting them back down where she got them.
“Yeah,” I offer. “This is my place.”
Grimla continues along until she reaches my deck, stopping as she stares out through the glass door. “Holy fuck,” she gushes, “and that’s outside?”
“Yep,” I confirm. “You’ve never been outside before?”
“You literally just baked me,” the bread retorts with a laugh. “I haven’t done much of anything.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I reply.
“Let’s do stuff!” Grimla offers excitedly. “There’s a whole world out there to explore. We can go skydiving, or drive race cars, or try new restaurants!”
“Yeah… about that,” I reply, wincing slightly. “You came into existence at a very strange time. We can’t actually do any of those things.”
“Why not?” Grimla questions.
“Because there’s a global pandemic going on. Everyone is locked down in their houses right now. It’s not really safe to go out and socialize because of the virus,” I explain.
The sentient bread just stares at me blankly, not quite sure what to make of this revelation. “What?” is all that she says. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I wish,” I reply.
Grimla takes a deep breath and lets it out, accepting the reality of the situations as she comes to terms with this unfortunate news.
“So what can we do outside?” the sentient bread finally asks.
“We can go for a walk,” I offer.
Grimla smiles. “That sounds awesome.”
The sun is just barely starting to set as the loaf of bread and I begin our stroll through the neighborhood. Going for a walk has become just as popular as baking bread these days, but it’s a little too late for the streets to be very crowded. Anyone else with a similar plan for the evening has already come and gone, leaving me and Grimla to have the street to ourselves.
“It’s really nice out,” the bread offers.
I can hear the words, but it’s hard for me to focus in on their meaning. Right now, I’m must too distracted with just how beautiful this sentient loaf really is. Of course, I’d been warned by the guy at the grocery store, but I wasn’t quite prepared for this.
Grimla has got to be the most beautiful bread I’ve ever seen in my life, gloriously fluffy with a nice crisp crust and what I can only assume is the softest inside imagineable. Her smile is utterly intoxicating, and her eyes are enormous and expressive in a way that just kills me.
“So what’s it like being a loaf of bread?” I question, trying to keep the conversation going but finding myself very, very intimidated.
“Well, so far so good,” Grimla replies. “I’m not really looking forward to being eaten, but I supposed that’s all part of the process when you’re such an important food staple.”
I react immediately, shaking my head from side to side and crossing my arms in front of me. “No way,” I blurt. “You’re not getting eaten, that’s crazy.”
“But that’s what I’m here for,” Grimla states confidently. “What else would you do with me?”
“Let you live!” I counter. “If I eat you then you’ll die.”
“That’s not really the way it works for living objects on this timeline,” Grimla replies. “You may have just baked me, but I wasn’t just born. I was out there floating around in the atmosphere, waiting for my turn. Once you eat me I’ll return, and I’ll probably come back again. It seems kinda scary but it’s really not that bad. I’ve been around for a very long time, just coming and going.”
“I don’t think I understand,” I reply.
“That’s okay,” the bread offers. “Neither do it, and it’s my own story.”
“Fair enough,” I tell her. “Regardless, I don’t plan on eating you any time soon.”
Grimla nods and smiles. “There’s all kindsof ways to eat bread, though,” she coos.
I furrow my brow, not quite sure what she means by this. “You mean on the side of a soup bowl? Or in a sandwich?”
The sentient loaf chuckles. “No… like you could just eat my ass.”
My eyes go wide. “What?” I blurt.
“You’re not interested?” she continues.
I shake my head. “No, no. I’m very interested,” I reply, stammering now as I struggle to collect myself. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come right out and say it like that.”
The two of us stop walking, just staring at one another now. There’s so much tension hanging in the air between us that it feels like it’s physically weighing down on my body, making it hard for me to breathe. I try my best to center myself, but as I gaze into the eyes of my freshly baked loaf of bread, I can’t help falling into a deeper and deeper trance.
“Let’s head back to your place for a taste test,” Grimla finally offers, taking charge of the situation.
We immediately turn around and begin the walk back, our pace quickening as the anticipation continues to build. On the way out here me and my bread had been chatting up a storm, but now the silence between us says even more. Our heads are both overflowing with a variety of erotic thoughts, but our mouths remain silent.
The second we get back to my apartment Grimla and me are all over each other. I barely manage to get the door closed before the beautiful sentient baked good is all over me, kissing me passionately and tearing the clothing away from my body.
Grimla pushes me back as we make out, continuing to take control of the situation. Eventually, my legs give way and I collapse onto my soft, comfortable couch, the loaf of bread climbing up on top of me.
The two of us can’t stop smiling, loving every second of this as we learn the topography of one another’s forms. It’s not long before Grimla has stripped me down completely, revealing my skin to the warm night air as her attention moves away from my lips. The living loaf of bread starts by kissing along my neck and collarbone, then gradually begins to drift lower and lower. She pauses at my nipples for a moment, playfully licking and sucking me as a soft, satisfied groan escapes my lips.
Next, she makes her way down to my stomach, gently kissing along my hip bones but refusing to go any farther.
“What are you waiting for?” I question.
“Just teasing you,” she replies mischievously. “Don’t you know that bread takes patience?”
I let out a long sigh, pushing my hips up towards her.
The loaf of bread begins to trace her fingers slowly across my stomach, continuing to take her time with me until, finally, she has mercy and slips a single digit across my wet pussy.
“Oh fuck,” I gasp when the loaf finally touches me there, tilting my head back and allowing the words to slip out through my lips.
Grimla immediately gets to work rubbing me, taking note of the way that my body reacts to her touch. She’s a perceptive lover, and it’s not long before the two of us fall into perfect sync with one another.
Of course, this sentient loaf of bread isn’t content to only use her hands. Soon enough, she dives in and begins to gently lick my clit. Grimla moves at exactly the same pace as her fingers, picking up where they left off as she works me orally.
“That feels so fucking good, that feels so fucking good,” I begin to repeat, my eyes shut tight as the blissed out mantra falls from my mouth over and over again. With every passing round the phrase grows a little louder, escalating in volume until finally I’m screaming out at the top of my lungs. “That feels so fucking good! That feels so fucking good!”
The sentient loaf doesn’t let up for a second, working her magic on my body with her swiftly moving tongue. She could push me over the edge at any minute, but she hesitates, instead allowing me to savor the moment.
Suddenly, however, Grimla pulls back. I glance down at her and she smiles up at me playfully, something new and exciting on her mind.
I watch as the sentient baked good begins to drop lower and lower, our eyes still locked as she moves the position of her mouth from my pussy to my ass. She doesn’t hesitate, immediately diving in and plunging her long bready tongue into my butthole.
I’ve never had my ass eaten before, and I have to admit that I’m not quite sure what to make of the experience at first. This sensation is not quite what I was expecting, but I don’t hate it. The longer Grimla goes at it, in fact, the more I begin to settle in and enjoy the ride. I’m amazed at just how deep she can shove her tongue inside of me, impressed by her skills of anal stimulation.
While the beautiful loaf of bread orally services me she reaches up and slips two fingers within my pussy, causing a sharp tremble of pleasure to pulse across my body. It’s not long before Grimla is picking up right where she left off, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of a powerful climax. Now, however, I’m being stimulated in two distinct ways that swirl together like some powerful erotic cocktail. The sensations pull each other onward, this illicit mixture of different stimulations working in tandem within my body.
Soon enough, I’m erupting in a fit of orgasm, throwing back my head and letting out a long, powerful howl. My voice floods the apartment, shaking the walls as I vibrate on a higher plain of existence. Every nerve within my body is alight with pleasure, carrying me through an orgasmic experience until anything I’ve ever had.
When I’m finally finished I collapse back onto the couch. I feel as though I should be exhausted, my body completely spent after such an earth-shattering climax, but right now I have more energy than ever. I feel like I’m just getting started.
I grab the beautiful loaf of bread and roll over so that I’m on top of her now, gazing down at the gloriously sexy baked good as she stares up at me lovingly. I begin to kiss her like she did to me, taking my time as I work my way down her body. I’m impressed by the rounded shape that she’s taken on since leaving the oven, a simultaneous heft and lightness to her warm bread body.
The second I reach her pussy, I don’t hesitate. While I appreciated the time that Grimla took with me, I’m much too wound up to not jump right in and start licking away with rampant enthusiasm. I’m completely lost in the moment, eating her out like I’m absolutely famished.
I have to admit, the taste is exceptional. For my first baking experience I’ve really knocked this one out of the park. While some bread is simply there to hold the flavors of whatever you put on it, this particular loaf has something that is entirely her own. I’m impressed with Grimla, and I’m impressed with myself.
The gorgeous bread begins to tremble a quake above me, clearly enjoying herself. Her breathing is heavy and her face is flushed, an orgasm of her own clearly lurking right around the corner.
I slip a finger within the sentient bread’s body and continue to work her like this, picking up speed until finally Grimla pulls tight and then releases in a powerful spasm. I watch as the pleasure surges through her body, erupting like a lightning bolt through her beautiful baked form. She sits up and falls back down again multiple times, repeating this movement over and over again until finally collapsing back onto the couch in a fucked silly daze.
“That was incredible,” Grimla offers, smiling wide.
I curl up next to the loaf of bread, pulling her close and enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. “You can say that again,” I reply.
Grimla laughs. “You treat all of your bread this well?” she questions.
“You’re my first,” I admit.
The sentient loaf pulls back, staring at me in amazement. “Wait… really?”
I nod. “I’ve never baked a thing before in my life,” I continue, “and I don’t think I ever will again, to tell you the truth.”
“Why not?” Grimla questions, a little concerned. “You’re not happy with the way things turned out.”
I shake my head. “The exact opposite,” I inform her. “You’re all I need.”
