Sunday Quickie: The Afternoon Coffee Run

 

I’m a night owl, and I’m a graphic designer by trade. Run my own company and do freelance work, that sort of thing. So I get out in the afternoon, buy a cup of joe at the local coffee shop, and then run errands before the sun goes down.

In the coffee line, every single time almost without fail, there’s always this stunning woman who comes in right after me. Cindy is her name. She wears business suits, the kind that make her look powerful and important. She prefers black or navy, and pinstripe. 

On Friday, the suit was a pencil skirt black pinstripe, with no hose, and red five-inch pumps.

“Afternoon,” I said.

“Good morning to you,” said Cindy. She flicked her curly black hair over one shoulder. She wore blue eyeliner and pale pink lipstick. Her bosom was pushed up today, and the first few buttons of her blouse undone to reveal her lovely cleavage.

I let her go ahead of me, per my usual custom. We small talked. Weather, golf, the sweet and bitter aroma of fresh brewed coffee. She ordered a latte. I ordered my normal black tall, with no silly creamers or sugars added.

“What you up to today?” Cindy said as I held the door open for her.

“Back to work.” I shrugged. The day was sunny, the sidewalks breathed with life and heat as busy people crossed the streets.

“On Friday night?”

“I work every day. It’s what I do.”

“Hmm. Okay.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

I walked with Cindy for a ways. Back to the parking garage, where I left my car.

“You don’t disappoint me,” she touched my arm at the elbow crook. One little harmless touch. Followed by a stare, and then a long pause of silence.

“Where are you off to?” I asked.

“Done with business meetings. Thank fucking God.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I hear you.”

I stepped into the parking garage. Cindy followed me into the cool air conditioned part of the building. I hit the elevator button.

“You park here, too?” I said. I felt stupid. Our small talking had devolved into silly talk.

Cindy leaned forward. I smell the sweet latte on her breath. “I park where I want.”

The closeness killed me a little. I stooped my shoulders, and bent forward. Then, without thinking about consequences, I tasted her latte. But not from her styrofoam cup.

Cindy parted her lips for me, and slipped her tongue against mine. I cupped my hand behind her neck, bracing her and pushing her up against my body. Cindy reached around my waist, embracing me with one arm.

I made out with her like that, and missed the elevator.

We both tossed our coffees away in the waste bin, and caught the elevator the next time around. Cindy pushed me inside, and pressed me against the wall right as the door dinged closed. Cheesy elevator music filled the silence, but we definitely weren’t talking now.

Cindy got down on her knees and unzipped my jeans. My cock sprang out, hard and ready for her, and more than a little wet with precum. She wasted little time, pulling her lips over her teeth, and sucked me with quick strokes.

The elevator dinged for my floor. I pressed the button for the top floor. Up we went. Up I went. At the top, the elevator motion jerked me, driving my cock deeper in her mouth. Once again, I slammed the buttons to close the doors, and back down we went to the bottom floor.

I lifted her off her knees, and pulled that pencil skirt up around her hips. She wore no panties, and had a cute bush trimmed into a triangle. Cindy kissed me, her lipstick severely smeared, her mouth tasted salty and hot. I pushed her against the wall, and dipped my finger inside her slot.

Cindy bit my neck, moaning loud and begging for more. This time, she frantically pressed the buttons to go back up. I was too busy lifting her off the floor and pressing her body against the wall.

Her ankles around my shoulders, I impaled my cock inside Cindy. Every bit of muscle strength and focus went into pounding her. Wet juices trickled down my shaft. Our moans co-mingled, becoming desperate. Her tunnel clenched my shaft.

Cindy hid her face on my neck and cried out in agonizing pleasure. Right at that moment, I could not hold back.

I spurted inside her. 

Muscles tense, yet my entire body entirely relaxed, I let her down slow. The smell of our sex filled the little elevator. I wasn’t even sure what floor we were on anymore.

I helped her pull down the pencil skirt, and she zipped up my pants. Our clothes were just a little wrinkled.

“Thank you,” said Cindy.

“I’m having a wonderful Friday,” I whispered in her ear.

She gave me her phone number, and I gave her a sweet kiss on the lips with a promise for more if she agreed to do this again.

“Next time,” Cindy said, “we’ll make it to your car.”

***

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Author: D. Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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