Every cafe owner knows that location is paramount to success. Every tiresome business manual recites "Location, location, location." But I've yet to read one of these manuals that outlines the peculiar benefits of being a cafe opposite a sex store. We don't get many quiet times in the cafe, but when we do we all like to pay particular attention to traffic outside of the sex shop. It's all innocent fun- small wagers on small depravities in small bags. The sex store is up-market and modern; designed for women. The cliché of dirty old men scurrying back and forth doesn't apply here. Instead the store draws in lots of open-minded women and couples. The same people also enjoy slipping into our trendy cafe for our free-trade coffee and home-made French pastries.
We get a lot of customers who enter our store carrying brown paper bags. Such packaging might be innocuous and anonymous in other places but not directly across the road from the sex store. I try to pretend that I don't know where they have come from, but we both know that I know.
When we're working in the cafe we make a cheeky little game out of finding out the contents of the brown paper bags. It's not often that we're successful, but the fun is in the playing. Sometimes as we bring coffee to our customers we can sneak a glimpse. Most people make an effort to obscure their purchases but a few people seem to make an equal effort to display their new treats. I always enjoy locking eyes with these exhibitionists, both of us get a rush from their display.
Sally, my business partner and girlfriend, is more the gregarious of the two of us. In our business, she focuses more upon creating a welcoming and desirable setting; my job is to provide the food and drink to match it. Sally always enthusiastically engages with customers but she seems to make a special effort with those carrying the little brown paper bags. I can see that she puts extra attention into their service and more thought into the conversation she has with them. Depending on how the customers respond to Sally's introductory pleasantries she sometimes escalates the cheekiness of her enquiries.
A few times I've seen her look significantly at a customer's bag before asking, "So what do you have planned for tonight?" My favourite response to that question still leaves me hard whenever I think about it: the lady blushed, saw my poor attempt to hide my eaves-dropping, before leaning in to whisper to Sally. The customer left immediately afterwards. Sally told me that she had answered, "I think that you already know that," before lightly kissing Sally on the cheek and adding, "but now I'll be thinking of you when I do it."
As soon as Sally told me this I pulled her out the back of the cafe and fucked her hard and fast, bending her over boxes in the storeroom. She was already so wet that I easily slid fully into her on my first thrust. She hurt my hand, biting down on it as I covered her mouth, trying to limit her screaming. When we emerged to the front of the store we found a few bemused customers awaiting service. I think they all realised what had been happening- we both had flushed cheeks and that distant look of deep contentment. And we both smelt a lot like sex.
Sally isn't always the one who initiates the flirting. I know that I am biased but she is a gorgeous woman- tall and strong, her Amazonian look accentuated by long curly blonde hair that refuses to be controlled. But it is her large breasts and inviting hips that turn heads. Sally is justifiably proud of both of these features and dresses to emphasise them. Predictably, a lot of men flirt with her as she works. She politely but firmly discourages them, making it clear that I am her boyfriend. These guys respect her boundaries but still they persist in stealing quick glances at Sally's cleavage when they think that we aren't looking. We both enjoy it; Sally feels powerful and playful and I get the satisfaction of kissing beautiful breasts that I know that these men are trying to picture as they wank. Only a few times have we had to make it clear that some leers were overstepping the line- those men never return to our cafe and it's the better for their absence.
Jess is the owner of the sex store. She is a small woman in her thirties whose auburn hair and green eyes contrast deliciously with her pale skin. Not that she ever shows much skin, Jess always dresses far more demurely than you might expect of an owner of a sex store. But the poise with which she carries her slim frame, accentuated by the clean lines of her high quality garments, leaves one intoxicated. With Jess' healthy caffeine habit she is a regular visitor to our cafe and has made friends with everyone who works here.
If our shop is free of other customers we sometimes like to ask Jess about her recent customers. She enjoys making the process quite theatrical, always making us take turns suggesting salacious reasons for her customers to be in her store. Jess will only rarely provide us with a direct answer, instead, we watch her reaction to our suggestion and try to gauge how close to reality we were. The nearer we get the more delighted Jess becomes- her mischievous smile grows and her green eyes sparkle.
Sally seems to guess correctly the most. We jokingly complain that she has an unfair advantage because she spends so much time in Jess' store. Sally always replies that we are all welcome to join her in her research. I certainly appreciate how much Sally hangs out with Jess- she has acquired quite an arsenal of toys from Jess' shelves and a formidable repertoire of tricks from her workshops. Sally and I have lots of fun after hours.
We often question whether Jess is reacting most favourably to Sally not because she is actually guessing correctly but because Jess enjoys her fantasies the most. They always laugh together at that idea. It's not that Sally's ideas are the most extreme- Mel typically wins that honour- but that Sally puts all these engaging details into her suggestions. She likes to talk about why someone is buying something and how they plan to use it as much as she describes the object itself.
Sometimes her stories are a little sad- often exploring the pressures of raunch culture. Something like, "She looked very nervous. I think that it was her first time in a sex store. She has finally been worn down after being embarrassed by being forced to lie to feel accepted during a drunken group over-share on a recent Hen's night. Today she bought a pink rabbit vibrator, mid range, mid size. She had done her research on the internet before she arrived and hurried in and hurried out without talking to you Jess. Tonight she plans to drink a little too much wine in her room before turning up the music and trying it out. With her unusually aloof manner and loud music, her housemates will think that she is a little angry with them."
Other times Sally's description of Jess' customers leaves us all hot and flustered. A memorable story involved a young woman who had strode proudly out of Jess' store after an hour inside there. Sally's analysis was, "She spent so long in there because she wanted to trial every lube in the store. She needed something that was long lasting and not too messy. And that's because she is now wearing a small butt-plug that she also bought in the store. She's catching the train over to her boyfriend's work now. With her butt-plug in, the vibrations of the train will tease her so much that she will tear her boyfriend's clothes off and mount him as soon as he closes the door of his private office. He will have no idea that she planned this, it will happen so quickly that he won't even realise that she is wearing her butt-plug until she asks him to play with her butt as she rides him." We all quietly appreciated the image in our own minds when Sally finished.
Noting how Jess responds well to Sally's storytelling technique and how much fun we all have listening to her stories, we all try to mimic her method, but rarely do our stories spark with the same level of imagination. Only Mel doesn't attempt to construct a little story, she simply offers a direct suggestion for what she thinks is in the bag.
"I like to get straight down to business," is her explanation, delivered with a wink and a smile.
Most of the time her suggestion for what is in the bag is at the limits of Jess' range. Mel seems to suggest what she hopes is in the bag rather than what she thinks is actually inside it. She likes be at the fringe of things- her asymmetric haircut and numerous piercings make that clear to the world. Despite her desire to present herself as edgy and intimidating, Mel is always courteous to our customers and she has genuinely warmed to many of our regulars.
I can see that our other employee, Pat, wants to sleep with Mel. They both get along well but her eyes don't linger on him in the same way that his eyes subtly follow her around the room. He's a good looking guy in a safe kind of way but however he presents himself, it's hard to see Mel being interested. Sometimes aching for what we can't have is even more pleasurable than fulfilling our fantasy. Pat must share this view- we all see how Mel interacts so differently with our female customers.
The most extreme cases of this I've noticed are when Mel slips a little note next to the coffees of her customers, smiling and brushing their shoulder as she walks past. They are always women sitting down with their tell-tale brown paper bag. I've watched as they quickly read the slip of paper before furtively tucking the note away and hurrying out. After watching this scene unfold many times I finally saw someone leave without taking Mel's note. I quickly went over to clear the table before Mel or anyone else could get to it. I unfurled the paper to read:
If you want to learn how to use that properly,
Call me,
Mel 0462275346
XX
I took Mel out the back, taking her note in my hand and warning her, "We all like to have fun here but we can't harass our customers. You know how much trouble this could land us in."
She groaned, "Dammit- I know you're right." She paused to look me in the eye before continuing, "But we also both know that she is the first woman to reject one of my notes. You guys like to play by ogling and fantasising about Jess' customers; I can tell you that it's much more fun to play with Jess' customers themselves."
"And if they don't want to be played with?"
"I don't go after everyone. No one should do that. But if you watch people closely, sometimes you can see that they want to be played with."
"Have your fun, just don't scare away our customers and don't leave a paper trail that leads back to this cafe," I said, passing the note back to Mel in frustration before walking out to greet new customers.
That exchange had occurred a few days ago. It was rare for us to have a dispute or confrontation with one of our employees. Mel didn't seem to have any lasting bitterness about the situation and Sally supported how I'd handled it. But still I'd contemplated it a lot since it had happened. Today was giving me ample opportunity for reflection- rough weather meant that it was very quiet in the cafe. The constant drizzle and strong winds had discouraged most people from venturing out. Sally and I had already sent Pat home, ending his shift early. That left just us in the store. Sally was taking the opportunity to perform a stock-take out the back whilst I prepared the pastries for baking tomorrow. As I worked the butter into what would be a batch of croissants a pair of women across the road caught my eye. They folded their umbrellas and entered Jess' store. They were obviously close but didn't seem to be a couple.
Most often in this scenario the women were looking for tacky smut for a Hen's party. Those people always left disappointed- Jess refused to stock that crap. But every now and again the women were friends who were so close and so open about their sexuality that they were happy to shop at Jess' together. I loved those people. Jess was trying to make everyone into one of those people. She had succeeded already with Sally- one of my favourite things about Sally is how open she is about her body and her pleasure.
I was glad to see that these two seemed to have the same philosophy and had spent a significant amount of time in Jess' store. I ducked to the back of the cafe to see how Sally was doing.
"A couple of cute friends have just ducked into Jess' " I told her.
Sally smiled as she rose up from counting boxes, "Watching again are we?" raising her eyebrow playfully.
"I do plenty of doing, as well," I replied. "I've got the croissants ready for baking. And we were both doing plenty of doing last night." Sally laughed and I kissed her, holding her hips and pulling her against me. I was about to ask Sally what she thought the two women had bought when I was interrupted by the front door of the cafe opening.
I left Sally to continue her counting and headed out the front to greet our customers. I was excited to see that they were the two women from across the road. I tried to hide my recognition of the brown paper bags that they were both carrying.
"Can we get two lattes please?" asked the first of them to enter.
"No worries, will you guys be having those here?"
