When I went in there weren’t too many people in the coffee shop. It’s a bigger coffee place, the Java Palace, and it has a lot of nooks and crannies; but on Wednesday evenings there’s usually not much of a crowd and they only have one barista.
I had a lot on my plate; I’m the night concierge at the budget inn downtown, and I had to finish a paper on pre-revolution Russia for my twentieth-century history class. I sidled up to the counter.
“Twelve ounce coffee, please.”
The barista was a bit shorter than me, with chin-length brown hair buzzed short on one side. When I looked down from the menu, I got a little distracted by her eyes. They were a blue—not the watery blue or sky blue of your typical blue-eyed girl, but a pale icy blue that was deeper in the center, with veins of navy radiating through her iris. She wore them neatly framed by a pair of brown horn-rimmed glasses.
“Room for cream, or do you take it black?”
“A little room. I like it brown.”
She laughed at that. “Two dollars. By the way, nice shirt!”
“Thanks!” I was pretty proud of my t-shirt. It had a print from Rockwell Kent’s illustrations for Moby Dick: the panel where Moby Dick is breaching out of the water, reared fully erect, with streams of foam dripping down his body.
“Is that Moby Dick?” she asked, “that’s one of my favorite books. You know why they’re called sperm whales?”
“Because they look like sperm?”
“No. The whalers killed them for the juice in their giant foreheads. When people started hunting them, they thought it looked like jizz. And they would pull it out in buckets to burn in lamps. It’s like all of the great books of the 1800s were written with light from the jizz of dead whales.” She was leaning forward with a pretty intent look on her face; apparently she really liked whales, or 19th century literature, or jizzum. The top few buttons of her flannel top were open, and although her blue eyes still had mine in a lock, I noticed the curve of her breasts dipping into the outline of her bra. “Of course, it wasn’t really whale man juice, if you get me, but there’s a great scene in the book where whats-his-name—Ishmael—is cleaning the sperm stuff with another guy, and they hold hands in a barrel of it while they’re in basement of the ship—or hold of the ship, or whatever.”
Whoa. This barista knows about whaling. I could barely remember the stuff-about-whales chapters, but that scene I recalled. “I remember that! That’s such a weird scene! They’re two dudes, like, kneeding lumps out of the forehead juice of this whale”–it’s a white, warm, gooey substance, filled with sticky lumps—”and they find each other’s hands, and they’re like ‘THIS is the most beautiful thing EVER!'”
She laughed again. “That whole book is super bizarre. I always wonder how serious Ishmael got with Queequeg. Anyhow—you owe me two dollars.”
I paid up and dropped a buck in the tip jar. When she brought me my coffee, it was in a mug with a whale on it—which isn’t too surprising, because Java Palace has a bunch of weird mugs, it’s like their thing, but still she gave me a wink before I went over to the cream, and said “Make sure it’s nice and brown.”
I took my coffee over to one of the tables in the back of the shop, pulled out my laptop, and started writing about Nicholas and Alexandra. When I’m writing, I get kind of get engrossed, and I spend a lot of time drinking coffee and running my hands through my hair. My boss at the hotel, Janet, is always complaining about how disheveled I look if I come in after I’ve been doing schoolwork. And about how lazy I am, and about my reading at work… But what am I supposed to do on night shifts?
After I’d written a few pages, I got up for a refill after a bit, but didn’t see the barista—or anyone else. I went back to my computer.
… Rumors abounded that Alexandra and her daughters were engaged in a variety of cultish orgies with her religious advisor, Rasputin, I wrote. Rasputin was a member of a bizarre eastern orthodox cult which practiced group sex for religious reasons, and was supposed to be an insatiable lover…
This paper was terrible. I looked at the time. Shit! I only had a half-hour before my shift at the hotel! I
I went to the only bathroom and shot straight to the mirror over the sink. The bathroom is pretty cool—it’s big, and they always put some local artist’s work in it. The toilet’s across the room from the sink, and they hang local zines and stuff on the wall next to it. I guess I’m saying that it’s a top-notch place to take a dump. It smelled pretty clean, too, but there was a faint earthy undertone.
I got my hands wet and started patting down my hair. It was a mess. I’m tall, and I have greasy black hair over some thick glasses. Not that I look nerdy—I’m pretty chill-looking—but my hair does sometimes get out of control. I keep my beard trim though.
I got my hair down and under control, and I turned my head back and forth to see how well I’d done. That’s when I saw her—the cute barista was behind me on the toilet! I immediately flushed with embarrassment.
Her jeans were around her ankles, and my eyes got stuck on the thong sitting in them, right between her legs on the ground. I pulled my gaze away, slowly moving it up—not to check her out, but because my brain had completely shut down due to how much I wished I had looked around the bathroom before busting in. Her shirt covered her crotch, but the top buttons were still unbuttoned, and her chest was flushed—a blush, I realized, that went up to her face. I met her eyes. She giggled.
“You caught me with my pants down.”
“Well,” I said, “This is awkward.”
“It’s okay. I’m done. Do you need this, or were you going to keep preening?”
I realized that she was talking about the toilet. Then I realized that she was making fun of me.
“Hey! I wasn’t preening, I have work in a half hour!”
“Sure.” She turned her face, so she was looking at me from the corner of her eyes. “Where do you work? A bordello?”
“A hotel. And aren’t you at work now?”
She bit her lip. “When you gotta go… Anyway, we’re basically closed. You’re the only customer I have left.” She ripped off some toilet paper and stuck her hand behind her. She held my gaze while she—from the looks of it—stuck the TP pretty deep into… somewhere. Then she pulled her hand back.
“Done. Well, you’ve got me at a disadvantage. Why don’t you even the score?”
“What?” I was stunned, and I could feel—to my embarrassment—that I was hardening in my pants.
“I’ve shown you mine. It’s your turn.”
I hadn’t expected this. Before I could answer, she leaned over and touched the front of my pants. I could feel my dick quiver. Apparently she could too.
“Oh,” she looked up at me, “you’re not all shy.” She started stroking me through my pants. It got harder and harder for me to think, and… it got harder and harder. “You sure you don’t want to share?”
“Okay,” I said, and in a second she unzipped my pants. My cock bounced out, and she kept her eyes on my face as she stroked it slowly from the base to the head.
“Feels smooth. What’s your name? I’m Marie.”
“Nice to meet you, Paul.” She shook my dick. Then she kissed the head, still stroking it with her hand. Marie was still sitting on the toilet, leaning over to grab my cock. I moved closer, and she teased the tip with her tongue. Then, while one hand gripped my shaft, she put the head of my dick in her mouth. Her eyes closed.
My cock was enveloped in the warmth of her mouth. I could feel her tongue vibrating on the bottom of my dick, as she started slowly bobbing her head up and down the shaft of my cock, with her hand right outside of her mouth. I was rock hard. From where I was standing, I could see her bare ass curving like a heart on the rim of the toilet, slowly rocking forward and back as she stroked my dick with her mouth.
Marie moved her other hand—the one that wasn’t sending shots of heat up and down my shaft—down her body, over her breasts, and towards her wetness. I watched as it slid underneath her shirt hem, and she started slowly rubbing her clit with her fingers. My whole world vibrated as she moaned with her mouth around my cock.
“Oh my god,” I said, “Do that again.”
She quickly complied. I could hear a rustle as her feet pushed her pants and thong around on the floor, and she rocked her clit against her hand and held my cock in her mouth. After a few strokes, she pulled it out.
“Mmm, Paul. I can taste your precum. It’s getting me excited. I like a lot of cream!” Her right hand was still stroking my dick, and a string of saliva connected her mouth to the head of my cock. With her eyes fixed on mine, she slowly took her left hand from her pussy and moved it around to her rear. “If there’s one thing I like after I’ve cleaned myself out, it’s to be filled back up again.”
She put my dick back in her mouth. She was still rocking back and forth as she sucked on my cock, and I watched as she grabbed her ass with her left hand. She squeezed it and moaned again, sending shivers of pleasure up my dick. I reached down and unbuttoned Marie’s shirt, one button at a time. She had small, perky breasts, and they were jiggling in her bra as she bobbed her head over my cock. Her hand, which had been grabbing her ass, moved a bit lower—I couldn’t quite see it, but it looked like she was sticking her finger into her ass. Her moans dropped an octave, and she rocked a bit more slowly—backwards, and forwards, driving her finger deeper and deeper into her asshole. I fondled her breasts, bent over her back, as she worked my cock and drove her finger into her rectum. She moaned, deeper and louder.
I’m normally one to sit back and enjoy a good blowjob, but I couldn’t help myself. I started thrusting in and out of her mouth, with one of my hands on her breast and one against the wall behind her. With each thrust I could feel her moan in harmony with me. I looked down, and I saw that she was sliding her finger in and out of her asshole in rhythm with each of my thrusts. I could barely control myself, and I started to worry I was going to explode in her mouth.
I pulled back. “Your turn,” I said, and I gently lifted her up, closed the toilet seat, and sat her back down. I pulled my pants off and went to my knees, pulling her to the front of the seat by her ass. I stuck my face right into her pussy and started licking her distended clit. She was soaking wet, and I could smell her pussy and asshole: a strong, earthy smell, moist and fecund. I squeezed her ass with both hands and started licking lower and lower, sticking my tongue into her vagina. Her breath quickened.
“Ooooooh. That feels good. Don’t stop. Don’t! But…” she moaned, leaning back—”don’t you like brown coffee?” Now that Marie had leaned back, I could see her tiny brown asshole, perked up, and freshly wiped. I licked lower, rolling my tongue around her rim, and brought my right hand around to her clit. I started to stroke her clit with my right thumb while I squeezed her asscheek with my left, slowly licking up her taint from her asshole over and over. I could feel her quiver as she pulled her feet out of her pants and up to her head. I looked up—over her full bra—she was breathing heavily, her mouth open just a bit, with her icy blue eyes locked on my head. Her hands were holding the back of the toilet and she was holding back moans.
“Oh like that. Get my ass wet! Yes!” I moved my middle finger down, and slowly worked it into her asshole while I shifted my mouth to her pussy and stroked it with my tongue. I could feel each knuckle go in; her asshole was smooth and tight, and it felt wet. When I had my finger in up to my hand, I started stroking it in and out, slowly, and then faster. I could hear her breathing catch every time I had the whole finger in; she moved one hand down and grabbed my head, pushing it onto her pussy.
By now my whole face—from my chin to my nose—was dripping with her cum, and I couldn’t smell anything but her rich pussy and asshole. I started sucking her clit into my mouth, massaging it with my lips and tongue, while my finger worked in and out of her rectum. My whole consciousness was absorbed with her cunt and asshole.
Her breath quickened. “Give me another. Give me another.” I pulled out my middle finger, and pushed the first knuckle of my index and middle finger together against her asshole. “MMMMMMMMMMM. Don’t stop!” Slowly—slowly—I filled her with my fingers, stretching her colon until they were both up to the last knuckle. I started to stroke them in and out, stretching her tight hole over and over again, when I felt the first wave of her climax wash over her.
“Yeessssssssssssssssssssssssssss” She groaned, in a hoarse whisper. I could feel her asshole squeezing my fingers over and over again as the orgasm took her over completely. I looked up and her eyes were closed, her teeth clenched, and sweat was breaking out on her flushed red chest.
“MMMMM, mmmmmmmmmmmm. You do like brown coffee! That felt really good, Paul. How do you think your dick will feel in there?”
I could feel my cock quiver at the thought. I stood up, and she immediately shifted forward and put my cock in her mouth. She held it there, sucking, wrapping her tongue around it again and again, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, with an audible pop, she pulled it out. “I just wanted to make sure Moby Dick here was good and wet. Fuck me from behind.”
She got down on the floor and lifter her ass into the air. I could see her puckered asshole as she spread her cheeks, with her knees on her pants and thong. Her ass made a heart shape as she lowered herself on to her knees on the tile; she still had her plaid shirt on, unbuttoned, and it framed the round ass she was pointing up towards my dick. She arched her back and looked at me over her shoulder. I moved down and put my cock against her asshole. Her eyes got wide when the head of my cock rested against her hole.
“Go slowly, at first,” she breathed, and I slowly pushed my engorged cock into her tight asshole. I watched as the purple head slowly sunk into her anal cavern, and then gradually, bit by bit, pushed the rest of my cock into her bowels. She moaned in a soft whisper at each push. Once half of my dick was in, I could feel her rectum open up at the tip of my dick.
“Now stroke it. Go slowly.” I started to move my cock in and out. She whimpered at each stroke, but I could feel her pushing her ass against me to fill her as much as possible. Her asshole was tight; it felt like it was grabbing my dick and squeezing it, over and over. She turned her head and looked back at me. “That really is a whale. Let me fuck you for a bit with my ass.”
She started to slowly push her asshole down my dick, and then slowly slide it out. It was like her ass was taking deep breaths of my cock, completely filling her butt, and then pushing it out until only the head remained. In. Out. In. Out.
She looked back over her shoulder, her hair cascading behind her. Her ice-blue eyes, flushed with navy, grabbed my gaze.
“You can fuck me harder now.”
I sped up. She had one hand on the bathroom tiles, and she moved the other to her pussy, rubbing her clit. She let out a long, low, moan, and started breathing faster and faster with each thrust of my cock into her anal cavity.
“It’s so fucking deep, it’s so fucking deep!”
I could feel her asshole loosening as my dick rocked in and out, balls deep in her tight bowels.
“mmm. hhmmm. MMM. MMM. YES. There. YES. THERE. Don’t Stop!!” By now I was slamming my balls into her pussy with each thrust, and she was ramming her ass cheeks against my hips as I filled her butt completely. When my balls hit her, I could feel her hand furiously stroking her clit.
“YesyesyesyesyesyesyYES!” Her ass clenched on my dick, holding me in place while she impaled herself with my entire cock. She balled her right hand into a fist as she rocked from side to side on my cock, and I felt her asshole clench around my dick as her orgasm washed over her. Each clench sent a wave of warm pleasure riding up my cock. I could feel my dick harden as it filled with cum.
Her hand slowly unclenched and she looked back at me. “I like brown coffee too, but with cream. Are you close?”
Stunned and worn out, I nodded. My cock was still buried deep in her butthole. She pulled her self off of it, and it bounced erect as it emerged from her asshole. Still on all fours, she turned around and held my eyes in hers as she slowly pulled my dick into her mouth, teasing the tip with her tongue. She licked it, and pulled it out, stroking my cock with her hands.
“Mmm. I love how this tastes. Rich and earthy.” She stuck my cock back into her mouth, and started bouncing her head on it, over and over, as I felt my cum fill my dick. Pleasure washed up my body from my cock, until finally I couldn’t hold it any more and I exploded in her mouth. She moaned as she sucked ever bit of jizz from my dick. Her eyes found mine.
“I told you I like cream. You can light my lamp any day. Come back the next time you want some brown coffee.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, pulled her pants over her perfect, violated ass, and walked out of the bathroom.