She turned towards a picture of some idealistically happy coffee croppers working joyfully as the sun burnt down upon them. As she smiled wryly at the advertising gimmick, she tried to wriggle out of her panties, without moving her upper body.
Then she surreptitiously slid her hand under the table and tugged at the crotch of her knickers, wriggling her hips and slowly lowering her underwear to the floor. If I were a coffee cropper she thought, I wouldn't have this stupid predicament. I'd be so warm out there; I'd have no knickers on.
Staring into the mirror above the entrance to the cafe, she was able to look over towards the counter. Her master was standing there patiently, talking to another middle aged man, while they both waited behind an elderly lady.
Good, she had a little time to get wet for him. Gently does it now: up she slid and down come the panties over her thighs and the backs of her hips. Her skirt flipped up as she sat down again. The red leatherette was warm and slightly sticky from the perspiration her manipulations had caused.
She looked up into the mirror again and caught the master's glance as he looked up at the CCTV picture behind the bar. Oh god! There was a camera right over her. The other guy and the old lady must have seen everything. Why had she let him choose the booth? Damn it to hell!
No, wait. He'd been talking to the other guy - distracting him. And the elderly lady - well, she did not look like she could see much further than the tray she was carrying precariously down the centre aisle.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she watched the mirror as sir ordered from the barista. She saw him smile and continue his conversation with the other guy.
He wasn't going to ask him over was he? Would he have the man sit down next to her and watch while she played with herself?
Would he see her fingering her pussy with her skirt flipped up and the leatherette getting stickier as she got wetter? And then, would he have him join in: pressing his thicker fingers into her sex until she was sopping wet?
No, he wouldn't do that - not sir's style. Would the guy be sat own opposite us, while sir dipped his fingers into this girl and stirs his coffee? Would he push his finger into her up to the first knuckle and then pull it out, making her lick her cunt juices off it? How crude! How exciting!
Mmm - she was wet: such a good, obedient cunt. And what about the panties: the cream panties on the table? What would the guy make of those on the table? That's it. They are new panties just bought in the clothes market. A quick purchase - look at the lace on them - they were so lovely she couldn't resist them. That's the story. Yes.
Silk pushed the panties down further - backs of the knee β nearly there now. Look at him over there sharing a joke with the other man.
What was so funny anyhow - was it her attempts to be modest whilst stripping off her panties in the half empty place. Bastard sir! My bastard sir, she smiled to herself.
Oh sir! You make my breath catch and I can't help but move my hips. And finger myself - even though I don't have permission. And you can see me do it on the CCTV as can anyone else who cares to look.
Will you spank me here for being so naughty? Will you flip my skirt up and tug me over your lap? Will you ask the old man with the breast fetish how many spanks I should have?
Will you ask him if he'd like to see my bare tits whipped in public? Will you have me pleasure him and the guy opposite with my mouth and with my cunt while you push your fingers into me?
Will you make me pleasure the students too? Two boys and a girl: one hole for each of them. Oh sir! Your cunt is so sorry. I'm so sorry! I'm coming! Ohhhhhhhhh sir!
Oh sir! You so, so love to humiliate your dirty cunt by calling her names. And your cunt so loves it too!