This is my entry for the
Literotica 2021 Winter Holidays Story Contest
! The setup is a sweet story about falling in love at Christmastime, the payoff is explicit, steamy sex. If you like the story, please consider rating it!
All of the sexual activity in this story is joyful, consensual, and between adult characters.
Happy Holidays!
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For weeks, if you had asked Lily if she was waiting for him to come in for his coffee each morning, she would have laughed it off.
"Of course not," she would have said. "I have lots of regulars that I know. I'm not waiting for him specifically. I just notice people, that's all."
And if you had remained silent, simply cocking an eyebrow in her direction, she would blush and become flustered and look for ways to break your gaze, perhaps grabbing a towel to clean an imaginary spot off the counter, or to wipe down the already gleaming espresso machine.
"Stop it," she'd say. "He's just a nice man. He just talks to me to be polite."
And if you were to do absolutely nothing, and just stand there regarding her with an appraising look on your face, she would throw the towel at you.
"STOP. I mean it!"
But she'd blush even harder.
Andrew usually arrived between 9:00 and 9:20, sometimes with a laptop, sometimes with a Kindle, sometimes with a book or a newspaper. He liked to sit, nursing his coffee, enjoying the atmosphere.
"I've been into a lot of coffee shops since I moved here," he told her, a few weeks after his first visit. "But yours is the nicest."
Lily thought so too. She loved the Happy Moon Café. Before it had been so lovingly restored, it had been a tiny, derelict heritage building hidden on a small downtown side street. The owner had taken great pains to keep the red brick walls and walnut wainscotting intact, and the effect was that of a warm, cozy living room. Works by local artists adorned the walls overtop of gold brocade wallpaper. All of the furniture was wood, and the luckiest patrons arrived early enough to snag the table with the plush burgundy armchairs by the window.
She had started working there as her other job had slowed down in the fall. She lived and worked on a hobby farm that provided school programs for children and trail rides and birthday parties on the weekend. It was a small operation owned by her best friend, populated by three goats, some chickens, two pigs, and a dozen horses.
During the spring, summer, and early fall, the farm had kept her very busy: feeding the animals in the morning, running school programs in the morning, then grooming the horses and leading trail rides evenings and weekends. But she loved the pace, she loved the kids who visited (well, most of them) and, most of all, she loved the animals.
Lily was living in the grooms' quarters: a tiny, one-bedroom coach house just up the hill from the stables. The furniture was mismatched, but it had everything Lily needed, and she had decorated it carefully; her favourite books on a little shelf, cozy throws and cushions on the sofa, and a deep, plush burgundy comforter on the bed. The coach house was close enough to the stables that she could rush down there quickly if something was wrong, and her vantage point on the hill gave her a good view of the paddock.
But really, the farm was an escape, a safe haven. Stephanie and Doug could have run it perfectly well on their own. They didn't need Lily to lead the trail rides, a teenager on part-time hours would have sufficed.
But Stephanie had known how lost Lily had been after her mother had died, about how Lily would have to put the house up for sale, and insisted that she move into the coach house immediately after the funeral.
"You'll be doing us such a huge favour, Lily," Stephanie had said. "We're really overwhelmed with everything."
Lily knew this was a lie. But the gesture showed her that she was loved.
And in return she poured love into her job. She read her customers carefully, sometimes providing chatter and jokes during trail rides, other times allowing the guests to experience the beauty of the property in silence. She carefully groomed the horses every day, even if they weren't being ridden, and she delighted in how they quivered and relaxed beneath her hands. Sometimes, when she couldn't sleep, she'd pull a sweater over her pyjamas and go to the stable, comforted by the sounds of their gentle nickers and slow, warm breaths.
But she knew that she had to save some real money if she was going to eventually move out on her own again. She needed a job that would let her get back to the farm in time for evening feedings and the occasional trail ride. So, here she was, in this tiny café, making specialty coffees and selling pastries from the bakery next door.
And she had really grown to enjoy this place. The regulars were kind, they tipped well, and working alone meant that she could sneak some time to read here and there when it was quiet. And as the days grew shorter and the winds more cold and blustery, she enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the café more and more.
And then he started coming in.
At first, he was like every other customer. He ordered his latte, she'd make it for him and take it to his table. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Except... that wasn't really true. He was never like every other customer. He had an openness about him that immediately drew her to him. He was handsome, sure, tall with deep blue eyes that crinkled up when he smiled. Older than other men she had dated, but that didn't matter; she felt inexorably drawn to him. Even when he was just ordering coffee, he really looked at her, smiling deeply into her eyes. He never left without saying goodbye to her.
"You make wonderful lattes," he told her, a few weeks after they first met. "At some places they're bitter, and I have to add a bit of brown sugar. But yours are perfect."
"Thank you," she blushed.
Why was she blushing over a latte? For God's sake, it's your job, Lily. Pull it together.
The next morning the café was empty when he arrived. It was a lousy day, cold and overcast. But he was there, right on time. As soon as he came in the door, she called out to him before he could even get to the counter.
"The usual? Andrew, is it?"
He chuckled.
"What a good memory. Yes, it's Andrew. And yes to a latte, please." And he made his way to his favourite window table.
When she brought his coffee over, Lily noticed what he was reading.
"Oh! Cloud Atlas! That's one of my favourite books!"
"Is it?" he smiled.
"Oh, I love it. All of the different narrative styles and that nested doll structure that Mitchell uses? And I love the way that he blends different genres, and how he pays off everything that he sets up. I love the part with Cavendish, when you see that he ... oh wait, maybe you're not there yet."
Andrew was regarding her with an amused warmth.
"Sorry," Lily cast her eyes down. "I just get excited about books."
"I can see that," Andrew said. "That's lovely. Not enough people do these days, I'm afraid."
"Well," Lily said, embarrassed. "I should let you get back to it."
"Please stay," he said, his blue eyes holding hers, "until another customer comes in, at least. Sit down. Tell me about some other books you like. What should I read next?"
And she was off, her initial trepidation falling away as she talked. He was such a good listener, so attentive and kind. They dissected the books they had in common, then moved on to films.
Lily had almost forgotten where she was when the door bell pinged and a group of women came into the café. She started, then leapt to her feet.
"I must get back to work. Can I get you anything else?"
"No, not today. I'd best be going."
He lifted his empty mug for her, and their fingers brushed as she took it from him.
"That was a lovely conversation. I really enjoyed it..."
Lily beamed. She couldn't help it. "Lily. I'm Lily."
It wasn't until she was behind the counter that she realized that, at some point during her conversation with Andrew, she'd let down her mass of wavy brown hair. She had no memory of doing so, but there was the clip, in her apron pocket.
She quickly threw her hair up again, still feeling the heat of his fingertips on her hand.
That night, Jillian, who usually worked the afternoon shifts, called her in a panic. She'd had a chance to pick up some tickets to a matinee performance of a musical she had been dying to see. Could they switch shifts tomorrow?
Of course, said Lily, but her heart sank a little. If Andrew came in at his usual time, she'd miss him. Then she immediately chastised herself. How silly you are, she thought, with your schoolgirl crush.
She arrived for the afternoon shift and was relieved to find that Lauren, the manager, had left a note on top of two big boxes in the back room: "PM shift, if time, please put up Xmas decorations!"
Perfect, she thought. That will keep me occupied.
But there wasn't time. Lily spent the afternoon serving a steady stream of customers until she finally flipped the "Open" sign on the door to "Closed."
I'll just stay late and put the decorations up myself, she decided, on a whim. It will be so nice to come in tomorrow and have the lights and tinsel up. And that sweet little tree in the corner. All of a sudden she felt very cheerful. She cued up her Christmas playlist and dragged the boxes out into the middle of the floor.
After forty five minutes, she had set up and decorated the tree, carefully arranging the lights and ornaments so there were no gaps. Fully lit, the tree emitted a warm, happy glow. She turned off the overhead lights and continued to work. She arranged an assortment of Christmas tchotchkes on the counter, gaudy and adorable. The tangle of Christmas lights was stubborn, but she didn't mind, humming along to the music as she worked the stubborn knots.
When the door pinged open, she was balancing precariously on a chair, trying to loop the first strand of lights over the hooks just under the crown molding.
"Sorry, we're closed!" she called out, trying to manoeuvre her body around to look at the door.
It was him.
