Rain Coffee And Piss

*Author's Note: It is my first submission after years of reading on Literotica, so please be kind. I intend to turn this into a mini series so let me know what else you would like to see our characters get down and dirty with. Enjoy!*

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It is finals week and I have been denying my necessary morning coffee because of an absolutely embarrassing crush I have on my local barista. I already have so much going on, the last thing I needed was the idea of a hopeless romance distracting me. However, two exams in and the pressure is really getting to me in any case it wasn't before, and I thought a nice coffee and a walk to the shop would do me good.

No sooner that I entered, her eyes met mine and she formed the kindest of smile to greet me. My heartbeat already fast, she must think I'm such a charity case if, God forbid, she got the slightest of idea. I approached the counter and she greeted me asking if I'll take my usual Vietnamese cold brew. I flustered inside that she remembers and blurted out a 'yes'; totally forgetting that it is literally her job to remember orders, and also forgetting that it's monsoon and I decided on a hot cup of Cappuccino on my way here as it is especially chilly today. Soon the gloomy clouds that accompanied me on my way here began to pour as I sat curled up at the counter stool watching her work in the kitchen behind. She made little enquiries about my exams while working as I made enquiries about her uni and work. Then seeing that there are no new customers coming in the rain, she handed me the coffee and sat across the counter with me.

Our hands now folded on the counter, barely touching, when she asked me, "How is it going with your boyfriend? Haven't seen him lately with you in the café." Visibly confused I managed to blurt out a dumfounded "huh?"; because one, I don't have a boyfriend, and second, I only remember visiting this place with the girls in my class, if not alone. "You know, that guy you used to come here with - the guy with curly hair - mostly wore a blue and yellow colour-blocked hoodie?",= she started describing the guy. After a few other clueless stares, I finally understood whom she meant - "ooohhh... you mean Levi. No, no, he isn't my boyfriend". I was a little embarrassed that she would have that impression. I told her we were dissertation partners last semester and that we were working on a project about how academic spaces in the name of being progressive tries to include queer studies but mostly limits them to gay and lesbian studies, neglecting bi/poly or non-monosexualities and queer genders in the process. I was afraid I geeked out a little bit, especially because the topic is so personal to me, but her eyes shone as she said "wow, you're so cool". I've never been good at taking compliments so I just blushed at her.

Our conversation started flowing and her fingers would brush against my knuckles every now and then. In turn, I never missed an opportunity to touch her under the pretence of absolutely loosing it at her jokes. There's nowhere I'd rather be than here. Halfway through an hour I feel the effects of the cold weather working on me. I thought I'd be back at the dorm after collecting my drink so I didn't bother going to the bathroom before I left. Damned be Aphrodite for playing tricks on us mortals, and making us in a love-struck frenzy order an iced drink when it's raining frostbites outside. Her touch is doing no favours, mirroring the lightning in the skies outside. Every thrust of the bladder against my pelvis in such close proximity to someone I like is sending me to the edge. Despite, I decide to test the limits, afraid if I excuse myself she'd go back to the kitchen and we'd loose this moment.

I start rubbing my fingers up and down my inner thigh. She catches a few glimpses out of the corner of her eyes. Embarrassed, I immediately ask to be excused to go to the washroom. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Our lavatory is under repair. The drainage burst out this morning and they've taken out the parts in the process. It's a mess back there." Oh no, no, no, no... It can't be happening today of all days. It's raining so hard I can't even go out to pee in a hidden corner, let alone rush back to the dorm. And it is so god damned cold, and I've ordered a fricking iced drink, and I'm horrendously turned on at a wrong place and time.

I keep my straight face upholding the conversation with her while visibly squirming underneath. A couple times she came close as if to say something but decided against it and went with whatever we were talking about. Now, it has been two hours in the cafe, and six hours since I last peed. I have crossed my legs and resorted to prayers in edging desperation. My palms and feet have started to grow cold and my squirming has now become a public spectacle.

At last, she inched her lips close to my ears and finally said: "Listen, this may be surprising and even gross to you, so I didn't say it before. But I can see that you're at the very edge of your perseverance, and also probably a public debacle, so come with me". And immediately, she grabbed my hand across the counter and picking up the cloth she uses to dry the washed cups, swiftly made our way to the back, near the lavatory's door.

A dim, low voltage cluster of filament bulbs hung overhead which was there simply to build the ambience. Our dark skins shone under them in the warmest of colour. Our faces were barely visible, only perceived by the warm breaths so close to each other. She undid her apron and stuffing the absorbent cleaning cloth inside pushed it against my lower belly, making my urgency worse for a moment. I understood what she meant but was too embarrassed to guess it right. "Come on, pee on this. Don't worry, it's just us here. I'll look out for you so no one comes this way". I took the bundle from her, but still wasn't sure. I mean, it's her apron and the cafe's rag I'll be vandalizing. If it were my own clothes, maybe the idea wasn't so bad even in public. Discerning my hesitant eyes she assured "Don't worry, it's not gross at all. You know as a child my mother never used to put me in store-bought diapers as they'd give me severe rash. Instead, she made little homemade diapers out of absorbent cloth like these... don't worry about the mess either, it's my closing duty today so I'll take it out with the trash. Nobody will know".

She was convincing enough, but most of all I really needed to go or any second I would have wetted my pants anyway. I hurriedly took the bundle, brazenly unzipped my jeans, pulled down my underwear just enough to put the cloth in between and started peeing with my lips open wide in a moan right in front of her. I must've been such a spectacle - a simply pathetic, helpless girl with her jeans down, thighs apart in an awkward stance, her back against a dimly lit wall providing the only support as she lifts her hands against the walls in relief and ecstasy, and her chin up, moaning to the gods.

Halfway through my relief, I felt her hands touch the sides of my waist, immediately startling me up. "You'll wet your panties like this you know. Should've put them out of the way", she said in a soft command as she started striping my underwear down and down, to my ankles and out with my jeans on the floor nearby. I held on to the bundled cloth with my dear life, least I sprayed my piss all over her as she undid my panties squatting in her skirt upfront, with her knees together and her heels lifted in an elegant tiptoe. Our body languages were mirror opposites at the moment and I was immediately aware of the power dynamic between us. She had me where she wanted, and I would dare not move.

After I finished, she didn't even let me clean my own mess. She took the soaking bundle from between my legs, wiped me before tossing it into the trashcan nearby. I was only catching my breath when she inched forward looking at my lips then back up meeting my eyes, lust shining through them in the dark and I knew, this wasn't over.

To be continued...