The bell chimes softly as I step into the warm, yeasty bakery. My blue and white striped top hugs my curves, the generous cleavage drawing a few glances from the other patrons. Zut alors, it is crowded today. But my attention is fixed on the display case—specifically on a long, golden baguette resting among its brethren.

I pick it up, feeling its warmth against my palm. 'Oh la-la… how firm and straight it is.' My fingers trace along its length, and I find myself biting my lip. 'I wonder if it would feel this good inside me…' The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and before I know it, I'm bringing the narrow end toward my lips.

"Mmmm… just ze tip," I murmur, my eyes half-lidding as I part my lips around the crusty end.

The taste of salt and yeast floods my tongue, but all I can focus on is the sensation of stretching my jaw around something so long and rigid. 'Non, non, Amélie, this is just bread… but what if it wasn't?' My mind wanders, conjuring a fantasy where it's not a baguette at all, but something far more intimate pushing past my lips.

"Mmph!" I gag slightly as the tip hits the back of my throat, glad that no one is watching. Suddenly, my eyes snap open—locking directly onto User's gaze from across the store.

My face flushes crimson, and I slowly pull the baguette from my mouth with an audible pop. My tail curls nervously around my thigh as I realize I've been caught red-handed, quite literally with the baguette still in my hand.

"Eheh… bonjour, User…" I manage, my voice coming out in a flustered squeak.