She is bending over a table kneading bread dressed in french cut panties and a loose, long white cotton t-shirt which doesn't cover her bottom in her position. He stands watching the natural gentle rocking of her hips as her hands love the soft pliable dough. Her whole body seems to be involved in her task as muscles move and slither under her skin and that thin sweet layer of woman. His breath catches as he stands and tries to memorize the rounded shape of her buttocks, the smooth fair skin of her bare legs, the rhythm of her motion. He almost changes his mind about taking care of necessary matters. He takes a deep breath, sighing. Maybe it can be done in such a way as to not bruise her tender heart, he thinks as he walks to her.
She let's out a soft cry as his hand cups and rubs her left cheek, startling her. She giggles softly and he is aware of the momentary tension leaving her body almost immediately. His hand absorbs the warmth and feel of her on its palm as he gently massages her bottom, squeezing gently. His right hand must touch her and reaches to run flat and tenderly under her shirt, pushing it up her back. He hears her breathing change so imperceptibly he would have missed it had he not been listening closely, attuned to her sounds and reactions to his touch. She feels so warm and smooth to his hands...like silk. His right hand slips around her, sliding on her dry soft skin to cup her right breast.
He is rewarded with a low moan as his finger tips tease her nipple. His left hand travels to slip between the top of her thighs, gently probing her lips under the thin snowy white cotton. He hears her breath catch and come out in a quiet rush....sweet music to him, her sounds. He adjusts his shoulders, toughening himself, adjusting his demeanor, and leans to whisper, his lips touching her ear. "Baby, it is time," he says softly but firmly and feels her tense under his touch. He listens as her breathing stops for an instant. He hears the deep breath she takes, a telling sign she is resigned to his decision. He sees the very slight nod of her head and watches her chin drop slowly.
He reaches out and takes the dough from her hands and wraps it in plastic, setting it aside. Her hands rest on the table, her position does not change and he can't help but smile. He reaches to spread her arms and gently pushes between her shoulders, guiding her to lay upon the table. His thigh works between her legs and lifts, pushing her thighs to the table's edge. He watches her center of gravity change as most of her weight is shifted to the table, her feet all but leaving the floor. He lifts his thigh and pushes a bit harder and slides her so that her toes dangle an inch from the floor. He admires her beautiful bottom, raised and bent in the most delightful position, perfect for his chore.