I'm on my knees in a supply cupboard at the back of the coffee shop.
Coffee guy fumbles with the lock on the door until it clangs shut and takes a good thick handful of my hair and guides his cock into my open mouth. Obviously, I'm a good girl and facilitate his appendage by allowing it to hit right at the back of my throat, stopping short before I gag. He's definitely not shy, though, he immediately follows up with another quick thrust, just enough to make my head bounce back - a natural reaction, to be honest, to adjust for not gagging. He makes a few micro adjustments to his rhythm, but within no time at all my head is bouncing off his cock with a steady rhythm.
With my saliva lathering up his cock, his grip around my hair starts to tighten up like a coiled spring, occasionally stifling the odd swearword so that his colleagues can't hear him. It's a pretty poor effort, though, to be honest: feet shuffle back and forth outside the door, and I'm unsure if they're his co-workers or the other customers. Above the sound of me gagging and drooling, I think I can hear murmuring and voices, but I can't actually be sure. The reality is, my sole focus is on expertly taking this dick. In the heat of the moment I feel like I'm "trying" to be quiet, all things considered, but I'll have you know that some things simply aren't possible, and having your mouth fucked in silence is probably one of those things.
Despite his stunning, and frankly impressive, attempt at keeping quiet, I can tell that his steely resolve is beginning to crack. He's swearing now, the words escaping through gritted teeth and heavy breathing. Just as I think he's about to buckle beneath the pressure, his arms begin to loosen up. He tugs at the back of my head, separating my lips from his cock. Strings of saliva stretch back to the tip of his penis before breaking apart over me.
I stand up after he beckons me. Yes, sir, I will. No words needed. He backs up against the door and grabs at my waist, his fingers wrap around my sides and press into my soft skin. I turn around as he starts pulling and tugging me, causing me to slide down him, feeling every single inch. It's an incredible feeling, having someone brand new and exciting fill you up, so incredible actually that a desperate moan escaped my mouth.
It's not clear at this point if our mystery guests outside are still there or not. I don't think there's been any movement? And they're definitely keeping quiet. Or maybe they moved away. Coffee guy's thick cock helps me to forget. Having felt it rest deep inside me brings me this cleansing wave of joy. Sheer pleasure in the eye of a storm, the silence broken by faint whispers. I can't focus on them. It's impossible to focus on them. "I think he's fucking that girl" - did I hear that right? I don't know.
Not important right now. Have to focus. My arms press against the shelves in front of me in order to desperately gain some leverage. He helps, obviously, because he's pushing and pulling my waist on him like it's a tool, an implement, an object he might use to shoot his cum into. Things on the shelves begin to tumble to the floor, making a clattering racket around us, and the sound of skin hitting skin inside this tight room is beginning to sound like the crack of a whip.
"Mmmffm..." I'm really trying to be quiet, I promise. I'm biting my lip. "Mmmfuck".
My legs start to shake again, just as they did this morning when I was bouncing on Owen, and once again a wave pulsates through me. At this point, I'm turning the air blue with swears. Coffee guy wraps his hand around my mouth and I scream into it, muffling it just in time.
I shiver as my orgasm swallows me whole.
I take a second to compose myself, but I'm eager to pull myself up and off his dick. Did he even cum? I was too busy to notice, honestly. Did you cum? I ask her him. He was still almost totally silent and without saying a word, his hand sneaks between my legs where he buries his fingers inside me, almost spreading me open so he can see properly - I feel a dribble of his cum slowly seep out of me. Well, I guess that answers that question.
I gather myself together in the toilet just next door and head out to the café to leave.
"Was she good?" his female colleague is obviously fascinated by what transpired. They both have no idea I could hear them.
"Really tight pussy."
"Fuck, really?" she's genuinely excited by this. Is this the most interesting thing that's happened here? Possibly
"Thank you for the coffee" I say, passing him as I leave. I even waved at his colleague, who looked like she was about to choke.
"Don't mention it."
He's reserved, smiling and polite. We don't acknowledge anything. In fact, for a second I wonder if he even registers it at all, or if he's done this so much that it's just normal to him. For a second, I wonder, how many girls he takes in there and fuck? What about his colleague? Does she fuck him too?
My eyes meet his across the café and I swear I can see the faintest glimmer deep in there - a sparkle that betrays his facade, and it's obvious, only to me and him and no one else, that we can do this any time. I just need to ask.
"Come back soon" he says
I think I definitely will.
