EYE CONTACT
Alice caught sight of her reflection in the coffee shop window as she waited impatiently for a man to exit. Rather than acknowledging his mumbled "Thank you" she did a quick self appraisal: Her blonde tresses were cascading pleasingly around her elfin face and the subtle job she'd done with her eye makeup this morning was on point. She smiled to herself, looking every part the classy young professional. Alluring... but unattainable.
The man's voice rudely interrupted her contemplation.
"Scuse me love, looks like you've got a bit of toothpaste on your cheek there."
"What!?" she couldn't help sneering, and peered closer at her reflection. To her annoyance she noticed that there
was
actually a faint white smear at the corner of her mouth. She hastily wiped it off before flashing him a withering glance. She took in his high-visibilty jacket, hard-hat, faded jeans, and slight paunch.
Clearly some manner of workman.
Definitely beneath her.
As her eyes raised to his face, she noticed that his five o'clock shadow was at the very least
yesterdays
five o'clock shadow, and was greying in places.
Old.
She thought.
Probably some sad old pervert.
Her usual response to informal contact of any kind with the lower classes was to look them in the eyes, roll hers, sigh disdainfully and strut off purposefully, proceeding with her day, leaving them with the impression that whilst they'd encountered a rare beauty, she would have forgotten
them
before the first sip of her morning latte.
Today though, the instant her eyes met his: Blue, squinting slightly, mildly harassed... something odd happened.
She was semi-naked in the street. Her stockinged legs stepped themselves deliberately apart and she bent suggestively forwards, her round arse slowly wiggling whorishly as she slid her lush vibrator into her eager pussy (already juicing nicely) and...
She blinked.
What the fuck!?
She
wasn't
naked. She was still wearing her blouse, her jacket, her skirt. She was still every part the image of the successful businesswoman. Only... only
she couldn't look away from his eyes...
and it felt like she really
had
just slid a toy into herself... a toy that was now buzzing... buzzing and building that familiar sensation and...
WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON HERE!?
He was still standing there, dumbly, the harassed look leaving, a mix of confusion and concern in its place.
"You alright love?" he asked, clearly wondering why she was acting so strangely, standing there with her legs locked in place, her cheeks flushed, breath beginning to grow ragged, her eyes wide, staring at him.
"Don't... call me...
LOVE...
" she tried to spit, but it came out with none of her usual venom. It came out husky. Sensual.
Why do I sound like a slut!?
She'd been staring into his eyes for 5 seconds solidly...
Why couldn't she look away from his eyes?
He was saying something, ("Sorry lov... uh... Miss") but she was barely paying attention.
Why did it feel like she was standing there weaving her butt in the air and teasing her clit?
And why... was she getting so ass-grindingly horny?
He stepped back, giving her a worried look like there was something wrong with her. Like
she
was the pervert. The sodding cheek! But still, their eyes remained locked.
10 seconds...
she could feel her chest heaving now. She could
hear
herself panting heavily. It felt like she'd been playing with herself for 10 minutes... like she was rapidly reaching the edge... like any second she might cum... she let out a strangled little "Guhh".
He gave her an odd smirk, and stepped back further, looking her up and down, and... with a jolt she realized the spell was broken.
She looked down at her Louboutins and saw with some relief that she
wasn't
thrusting her ass out quite as far as she'd believed. She
was
standing in a somewhat provocative position, and her hands, whilst balled up grabbing at her skirt were
not
in fact questing their way through her nethers. She straightened up, clearing her throat and pantomimed smoothing her dress down.
"I'm fine." She huffed. "Get out of my way please!" and not daring to raise her eyes to meet his, marched smartly into the coffee shop.
"I'm not
in
your way you haughty co..." began his complaint, but she pretended not to hear it, hastily pulling the door shut behind her.
Why had that happened?
Why was she feeling so wet?
Why couldn't she look away from his...
His... his...
What was it...?
She was forgetting something... feeling blurry...
What... what was going on...?
Her memories were fogging over... clouding up... dissipating...
Why was she so hot?
Mmmmm.
"Maybe I should have started the day with a little more self love."
she thought to herself, and with a bounce in her step she approached the counter, eyes raised to the chalkboard menu.
"Morning! I'm Gwen!" bubbled the short blonde barista "What can I get you?"
Alice reeled off her order smoothly, daring the girl to make her repeat it "Get me a large latte, half coconut milk, half semi skimmed with two and a half shots of espresso and one and a half sugars. Poured milk. Foam on top. Cinnamon sprinkles."
The barista scribbled the order onto her pad before calling "Wes!" to her co-worker and machine-gun-reciting the order to the guy behind the counter making the drinks. Alice saw that he was a taller man: aging hipster type, checked shirt, scruffy beard, plastic wayfarer glasses. She doubted there were even real lenses in the frames.
The guy gave a nod and glimpsed her way, before beginning the process of making her order. As he began heating the milk he looked back at her, as guys so often did when they realized what a stone cold hottie she was...
And the moment she caught him taking that second glance... it happened again...
She was grabbing the counter with both hands, bending and arching herself over it, her mouth hanging open in a hungry succubus smile, her eyes half closed, dully like some brainless sex kitten, looking intently at whatever-his-name was, sliding one hand smoothly between her legs to spread her labia. She could feel her sex dripping as her toy glided frictionless into her slick interior, she couldn't help biting her lip and stifling a shuddering moan as the heat began to build and...
"Miss?" came the barista's voice, from what seemed like a long way away. "I said that'll be eight fifty five."
"Uh..?" moaned Alice, her eyes locked on hipster-guy's. He was looking amused but baffled.
"Are... are you alright?" the girl was asking.
What the fuck is happening to me?
"Miss?"
Five seconds... She felt like she was shaking her tits at him, her nipples were hard and she could feel the cold air against them.
"Is there some kind of problem, Miss?"
Ten seconds... holy fuck she was getting right near to the edge now.
"Wes, did you say something to the lady?" the blonde barista asked, clearly perplexed and spinning on her heel to look pointedly at her co-worker.
He looked from Alice to his colleague shaking his head, and in that moment she found she could force her eyes shut.
Normalcy.
After a couple of seconds, she tentatively opened one eye and looked to the barista.
"No. No problem" she said breathlessly. "I'm... just going to use your bathroom, I'll be right out for my latte."
His eyes... can't look into his eyes...
She hurried past the small coffee tables to the rear of the shop, it was early, so only a few of them were occupied, a couple of girlfriends composing the perfect picture for their instagrams of their frappuccinos, one or two blogger / student types intent on their laptops, some vaguely dashing but greying old bastard who must think that reading the newspaper and munching on a danish pastry made him look romantic and approachable.
Why do I keep losing track of that? What's wrong with me?
Mercifully the bathroom was a single customer room with a lock.
Remember, you can't look into their... their... can't... look?
She strode inside the bathroom and all but slammed the door. Putting her back to it she sagged a little and let out a long breath.
"Get it together, Alice"
she mentally told herself.
She shook her head and stretched, going through a mock wake-up routine in the hopes that might shake some of the cobwebs from her mind. All it seemed to do was make her more horny. She half considered fishing her bullet out of her handbag and "steadying her nerves" but realized her coffee would be waiting. She didn't want the staff of the shop to think she was some kind of
public masturbator...
She gave an involuntary shiver, tried to ignore how hard her nipples seemed to be feeling, and stepped to the sink, splashing some water in her face before looking in the mirror.
There were a couple of errant strands out of place and her cheeks were pink. She combed her fingers through her fringe, smoothing it neatly.
There... she was perfect.
She looked herself in the eyes and took a deep breath in...
Followed it with a big breath out...
And felt suddenly dizzy.
Dazed...
