Damn, that jittery feeling was back. I sat in my living room, shaking my leg, tapping my nails on the glass coffee table, testing my fresh manicure that had been applied with love by Lili at Shanghai Nails. Love of my money, that is. I wondered for the hundredth time if I needed help, or if there was some sort of support group for this. They had a support group for everything these days, so why should my problem be any different?
This is bullshit, I thought. I'm a grown-ass woman; what is my problem? Anxiety made me get up and head to the bathroom mirror, where I checked my make-up. My chocolaty complexion, sprinkled with freckles on my nose and cheeks, was evened-out by a little tinted moisturizer. My practically non-existent eyelashes were suffocating under a coat of brown mascara, and my lips looked alive beneath my favorite pink gloss. I smiled, and playfully winked at myself in the mirror. The "natural look" takes me at least twenty minutes, and four products, to achieve. I fluffed up my recently relaxed, frizz-free hair, and spritzed it with a little shine spray. Black tank top enhancing my 38D's, and tight Levi's doing the best they could with what little hips I have, I slid into a pair of flip-flops and headed out the front door.
I strolled into Cafe Luna, feigning interest in the artwork that hung on the terra cotta, sponge painted walls as if I hadn't seen them yesterday. Approaching the counter, I chewed my bottom lip as I looked at the menu overhead. If I keep this up, I thought, I'm going to be addicted to coffee too. Then I'd have two problems to deal with.
"What can I get you today?" I heard you ask. I lowered my gaze, and there you were, looking directly into my eyes with that sexy smile.
"The usual," I said, smiling back.
"No problem," you said, turning towards the espresso machine. "So, how you doin' today?"
"Can't complain," I answered, staring at your ass like I was trying to set it on fire with my eyes. "How you doin', Tina?"
"All right," you replied, and walked towards me while the dark espresso poured into the metal pitcher. Wiping your hands on your apron, you said, "I'll be better when the big hand hits the 12 and the little hand hits the 3." You leaned onto the counter, cruelly treating me to a delightful view of your cinnamon-colored cleavage. "Hey, you know my name." You ran your fingers through your long, thick hair, pushing it out of your eyes. "What's yours? It's crazy I don't know it, since I see you every day."
"Indigo," I said. "Nice to meet you."
"Tina Vasquez. I like your name, Indigo," you said, reaching out to shake my hand. "Kind of funky."
"I have funky parents," I replied, feeling the smooth skin of your palm. It took me less than an instant to realize that I wasn't the one holding on for a fraction of a second longer than was usual for a casual handshake. When your eyes passed over my tits, I felt my nipples get hard as diamonds; those bitches could have cut glass. You licked your red lips and said, "Let me steam your milk."
I smiled as you turned back toward the machine. I caught sight of a strip of your waistline when you moved, and noticed that your beautiful skin shone like gold dust. "Hey," I said, before I had the chance to think it through, "do you use some sort of sparkly lotion?"
You raised your eyebrows, pushing a foamy latte towards me. "What?"
Oops. Maybe I overstepped. "Uh..." I stuttered, "I...um...noticed your skin has, like, a nice shimmer to it." I looked away, trying to distract myself by sipping my drink. I was dying of embarrassment. I knew if I was a white girl, I'd be as red as a tomato. Where is that natural disaster when you need it? I thought. Isn't this San Francisco? A good, 5.0 earthquake would come in handy right about now.
The foam covered my top lip, and I licked it off while glancing towards the door. There's my escape, I thought. If I move quickly, I could make the sidewalk in less than...
"You missed some," I heard you say. I felt your silky fingertips slide across my mouth, capturing a dab of fluffy steamed milk. My eyes followed your fingers as they moved back to your lips in slow motion, and when your wet tongue darted out and licked the foam--my foam--I felt the coffee in my stomach begin to boil.
Leaning over the counter, you whispered, "It's like that all over, you know." You smiled at my confused expression. "My skin." Our eyes locked as you came around the counter towards me. No one was in line at 2:15pm, and the students who weren't buried in textbooks were chatting noisily amongst themselves.
"It smells good, too." You offered your neck to me, coming so close that I could see the perspiration at your temple. Your baby hair gathered in wet, shiny strands, clinging to your overheated skin. I carefully leaned into you. As I breathed in the scent of grapefruit and spices, you moved so close to me that my nose brushed your neck. I shivered, my heart dropping into my pussy. I had an overwhelming urge to lick your neck, so I pulled away before I did just that.
"Ahem." We both turned around, startled, as a young man approached us. "How's it goin' Tina?" His shit-eating grin told me that his teenaged hormones had gone into overdrive while he watched me nuzzle you.
"Oh, hey, Derek," you shifted away from me, a blush of embarrassment tinting your cheeks. "You're early today."
"Yeah, my last class was cancelled, so I decided to come relieve you." He took off his coat and stepped behind the counter. "Just in time, too." He pulled a clean apron out of a cabinet, and nodded in my direction. "I can see you're about to work yourself to death."
"Ha, ha," you said sarcastically. "Every fuckin'-body's a comedian."
"Seriously, though, you covered for me during finals, so just consider this payback."
You glanced at me, and then back at the cute but pimply boy. "Can you cash out my register while I go restock?"
"No problem." The ancient register wheezed to life as Derek began punching the keys. You turned and started walking towards the stockroom. "Indigo, would you mind giving me a hand in the back?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Sure." I walked behind you, mesmerized by the sway of your hips. "Derek," you called out. The young man looked up, an almond biscotti dangling from his mouth like a cigarette. "I haven't restocked in three days. It may take me a while."
"You handle your business, girl," he grinned foolishly at me.
You took my hand and pulled me towards the stockroom door. Your hand was soft as butter, but you had a firm grip. We walked into the stuffy room, the door banging loudly behind us. I almost jumped out of my skin, and I tried to convince myself it was just from the noise.
The scent of the stockroom was heavy and rich, smoky with the aroma of roasted, exotic coffee beans. You turned to me, your amber colored eyes level with my dark brown ones. Our eyes locked and held as we moved slowly, impossibly slowly, towards our first kiss. Your lips were full and ripe, your tongue felt cool inside my coffee-hot mouth. I sucked your tongue deeply, longingly, with the fire that I had spent weeks daydreaming and night-dreaming about. You pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. Our breasts crushed together as I ran my hands under your belly-exposing t-shirt, lightly raking my fingernails on your velvety smooth skin.
I scratched, you scratched harder. I sucked, you sucked deeper. I pinched your hard nipple and the battle between us ensued, a contest of who wanted who more, of which of us was hungrier. You slowed down first, giving me soft, kitten licks from my neck to my navel. Roughly shoving my jeans to the floor with one hand, you pushed me down onto a box labeled "Mocha Java" with the other hand. I felt the crotch of my soaked panties being pulled to the side. I felt dizzy and exposed as your eyes explored my wet pussy. The last vestiges of cool composure left me as I pushed my crotch towards your mouth, silently begging you to lick me. You held your tongue and stroked me with your fingers instead. I felt my pussy lips open invitingly to your expert touch. Two, then three of your small fingers slid into my steaming cunt with ease. I moaned loudly as I began to ride your hand, bucking and shoving my wetness towards you while I struggled to stay atop the cardboard box.
"You look delicious," you whispered, seconds before I felt your lips encircle my swelling clit. The combination of your fingers inside my sopping hole and your mouth tugging rhythmically on my clit was almost more than I could handle.
"Oh, God!" I moaned, racing in slow motion towards ecstasy. Sweat stung my eyes as the room became a fragrant sauna, you and I heating up the small space with our fast breath and warm flesh. I suddenly felt an unfamiliar, sweet fullness. Looking down, only your wrist was visible, twisting in agonizingly slow circles. Your tiny fist had somehow fit into my pussy, and I came violently and hard, fucking your face and fist on a river of mindless pleasure as you sucked me dry.
Instinctively, my hands went to hold my belly, rising and falling with my panting breaths, the muscles now taut and tired. I looked down at your face, wet with perspiration and pussy juice.
"My turn," I mumbled wearily, reaching for your tits.
"Oh, no, you don't," you said, pulling up my jeans. "You're gonna need to have a lot more energy than this to please me." You wiped my juices onto your apron and held your hand out to help me up. I heard the light plink of coffee-beans as they fell to the floor from my sex-sticky skin, and I smiled.
"Come on," you said, kissing my wrist as you led me through the stockroom door. At the counter, Derek was enraptured with a cute co-ed. "Let me make you a fresh latte." I felt self-conscious, sure everyone in the cafe was looking at me in my disheveled and flushed state. You picked up my old latte, abandoned on the counter, and prepared to dump it in the sink.
"Don't even bother," I said, "I'm too hot to drink coffee."
You, shrugged, then scooped some ice into my cup. "Here," you said, handing me the iced latte. "How's about we go to your place." You smiled, playfully fluffing a lock of my hair. "I have a feeling you might need more than a little caffeine."
I took you home, and you never left. It's been one year, and I'm still getting my fix.
Happy anniversary, Baby.
Originally Published August 2005 - "Sultry Sexy Summer"