Before Marissa arrived, my latte was always excellent, always served with efficiency, yet always with that strained smile she'd been forcing on her cu...tomers since 7am. June was a great barista and she ran a fantastic café, but she needed to remind herself how to be more sincere.Marissa changed all that: there was no hint of nervousness as she pushed my hot glass across the counter the first time and that soft smile was more rousing than anything the coffee could do, more arousing than I. His hands run down her back, stopping at the top of her cheeks. His fingers kneed her skin, cleansing it and working the muscles underneath. He kneels. His hands slide down the outside of her hips, then pause as he reloads with the slippery goo. His hands encircle her left ankle, then run up, massaging all the way. He rides up over her knee, but stops short of her womanhood. Up and down he moves several times, and then moves to the right leg and repeats. He finishes by running his fingers down. One movement. One physicalmotion, to the utter length of his cock. As far inside me as he couldget, and with enough pressure to know that if he could have he wouldhave pushed all of his body inside me. An eight and a half inch longand gloriously-girthy cock, throbbing and vibrant and masculine.Completely and inexorably seated as far as is physically possible insideme. Inside my cunt. My pussy. My body. My core. My being.At that moment, my world went white. I was seared with a light. Instead, I settle on drowning my sorrows in alcohol and have just entered the kitchen when the doorbell chimes.My hand shakes as I place the tumbler down on the counter top and I can feel my thighs quivering as I step on uncertain feet towards the front door. I pause in the hallway suddenly full of doubt and amazed at the recklessness of my own actions. I consider my ‘outfit’; a pair of 4” diamante studded ankle strap heels, my body prepared with glittering moisturiser, my pubis and breasts.
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