Better the Second Time Around
This story is fictional. Events portrayed did not occur.
Chapter One
My name is Ethan. Nine months ago, I had left my home state and moved to Oregon, a suburb of Portland, to take a job with a small PC dealer, troubleshooting and repair shop. I walked the distance between home and the shop daily. Also within walking distance was a small but busy coffee shop I gave patronage to at least once a day.
After six months in the small hamlet outside Portland, the waitress who often served my coffee or other menu request had politely asked to get to know me better.
I accepted the invitation. We played a little twenty questions and each revealed chunks of our personality and shared our interests. The waitress's name was Tasha. She was blonde, her hair a little shorter than the popular "bob" style, but still covering her head and kind of framing her facial features well; green eyes, a moderate nose and mouth, nice lips and an appealing smile.
Aside from those physical traits, many men would not have been drawn to Tasha; she stood five-foot-nine and was wide and heavy, with a hint of belly flab beyond the waistline. One of the things I had learned about her was that before coming to work at the coffee shop, she had worked in a 'ladies for hire' establishment in the area for six years. She had never been skinny, but had a little nicer figure then. She now worked as a by-appointment or request mistress besides her work at the coffee shop.
I could attest that she was still good at her former line of work; she had professed an interest in me as I became a regular and frequented her shop. We had discussed some of her mistress-oriented history and discovered at least some degree of common interest in bathroom intimacy, including golden showers and toilet play; facesitting; ass worship. Tasha then also mentioned she had had a couple of repeat clients who were into pooping activities, i.e. brown showers or scat. She elaborated that having administered the golden shower, the brown part was not a huge leap, and she did not turn down request when the couple of clients asked, because she was familiar with them as people, not simply classified as perverts looking for a truly weird kink.
Well, one thing led to another and back after that initial six months, we had a weekend together when Tasha had time in her schedule. I accepted her offer to play mistress for me. It was a very interesting three days, or two and a half. Both of us enjoyed the things we explored, getting particularly intimate when Tasha pooped with me. But among the weird, a strong respect and a deep mutual affection showed itself. We had conventional sexual play and I allowed her to take the reins with me in bed. Despite her size, she was experienced and gentle, and it was amazing for yours truly. I had personally chosen and delivered two dozen roses to her at the end of the experience and she had cried and kissed me passionately and deeply, with genuine affection and meaning.
Chapter Two
Fast-forward to now, three months since that first encounter, and my workday at the PC shop was done. One more Friday in the books, and I was stopping by the coffee establishment for a cool beverage on a warm spring day.
As I stepped through the door and into the shop, my eyes swept around the interior. Two ladies behind the counter six or eight feet to my front, including Tasha, in her favored jeans and polo shirt work attire. The place would be closed down for the day within forty-five minutes.
There was but one other patron, a dark brunette-haired thirty-something woman with a light tan. Her hair was actually quite long, trailing in a ponytail to at least the middle of her back. She gave a passing glance as I moved to a table and sat. Her figure was just leaning toward full from thin. Bangs looped over her forehead, leading to blue-gray eyes, a narrow nose, and fairly full lips. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a yellow button-down blouse.
As I was observing these things at a glance, Tasha made her way to me. I ordered iced tea. As she finished scribbling on her notepad, she leaned over and said quietly, "Off shift in fifteen. Hang around and come upstairs with me?" I nodded. Tasha lived in an apartment above the shop that had been there since before the current owner took over the shop and Tasha became a primary employee there. There were probably two or three other daytime employees, but only Tasha and the owner were around during my early-morning or late- afternoon visits.
Tasha departed long enough to fill my order and return to the table with a tall glass. "The day is ending, but you don't need to rush. Take your time," she said. I usually travelled to and from work with a small bag that contained lunch, my personal water bottle, and a paperback book and my PC tool kit. I withdrew the book and read while taking about twenty minutes to enjoy the tea.
Tasha went about the required routine for closing down the shop. She left my bill. The attractive brunette had not left as I was finishing. I did notice Tasha stop to leave another bill and converse quickly with her. The woman smiled slightly and nodded at whatever was said. I picked up nothing distinct in terms of words.
I stood and wandered over to the counter and paid my bill with the owner. I felt the rather lovely brunette tracking me with brief glances as I made my way to the counter and back to the table, where I resumed my book. A few minutes later Tasha reappeared and tilted her head toward a door in the back left wall of the shop. I stood, grabbed my traveling pack and followed her.
Behind the door was the staircase which led to a residential exterior door with the requisite handle and properly stout keyed lock. I followed Tasha up and she stopped to unlock things and lead me inside the apartment space. I settled onto a loveseat immediately. Tasha disappeared to ditch her loose-fit work jeans and polo for slightly tighter jeans and a basic t-shirt. She returned and parked herself next to me.
Her place was surprisingly spacious, as well as neat and orderly. The entry opened to a square kitchen, which was open at the opposite end and adjoined the living room. Between the two rooms was a perpendicular hall with what had to be one or more bedrooms and a bathroom.
The first door on the left was Tasha's bedroom. The second door on the left wall, a fair distance down from the first bedroom and directly across from the second door, was the bath. The bath held a toilet, sink and tub/shower unit. On the right wall of the hall was the second bedroom.
"Ok," Tasha said to me. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since that afternoon six months ago. I think both of us have no trouble admitting a deep affection and mutual attraction with each other. The kinky stuff was a serious, very welcome bonus. I've decided I want another weekend together, with all the perks of the first one and a couple of adjustments," she declared.
