Author’s Note: I needed to take a break from other writings, so I wrote this as a palate cleanser, just as a fun piece to get some fresh creative energy built up. I may return to this later and write more chapters some day, but for now, enjoy a more lighthearted take on the genre!

Dan slipped into his favorite cafe, laptop bag over his shoulder, and glanced around. He tried to time his visits for the late morning, because it let him hit the place when the early morning crowd had thinned out, but before they were out of all of their almond croissants. He was pretty sure he was clinically addicted to them, but as long as his waist didn’t expand too much, he was in no hurry to try to quit.

The line at the counter was a little longer than he preferred, and his favorite table in the back right corner of the building was occupied by a young woman in a pink hoodie, the hood pulled up high over her head as she stared intently at a tablet sitting on the tabletop. Dan blinked when he saw the two points rising up in the hood, wondering what kind of hairstyle the woman had which lead to two prominent points standing out in the hoodie, before suddenly realizing she probably had a pair of those cat ear headphones on underneath it. Her head was occasionally nodding up and down despite no one being nearby to talk to her, so she was probably listening to music.

A quiet cough behind him made Dan realize that he was blocking the doorway, and he turned to mutter an apology to the tall man in a suit waiting to get in. Hurrying over, he joined the line, ignoring the businessman explaining to whoever was on the other end of his cell phone that he’d be late because ‘some people have no idea how to be polite.’ Dan rolled his eyes. If the guy was actually concerned about getting somewhere on time, standing in line to get coffee was not the right way to show it.

The line moved steadily. Bakes and Beans was a small, family-owned operation run by a pair of sisters who were trying to carve a niche out from the corporate giants that dominated the coffee scene, and they usually did a pretty good job of staffing to anticipate the number of customers they’d get. Today, four baristas worked behind the counter in an intricate dance of preparing drinks, heating and serving pastries, taking orders and calling out names. He had no idea how they managed to avoid running into each other constantly, but the three women and one man were a well-oiled machine when it came to slinging coffee and dishing out baked goods.

It still took a few minutes for Dan to reach the counter, during which time the man behind him had continued to talk on his phone, switching smoothly between corporate buzzspeak and full volume complaints about the wait time. The phrases ‘maximizing the returns on the acquisition’, ‘aggressively leveraging positions’, and ‘minimizing personnel expenditures’ were stated without a hint of shame or irony, followed by the man apologizing again for the delay because ‘this tiny operation has no idea how to cater to their best clientele.’

As though he was their best clientele. As far as Dan could see, the four baristas were working at a perfectly adequate pace, far faster than the Starbucks he’d been forced to visit on his last trip out of town. He always tried to frequent smaller locations, and not just because he preferred the atmosphere.

Dan had lucked into a position as a travel writer. He’d been in the journalism club in high school and one of his pieces had won a local award. That had turned into a couple contacts with people in the right places, and he’d been able to fund his way through college with a minimum of student loans thanks to a series of jobs working for a couple different mid-sized publications. That, in turn, had landed him a cushy gig traveling domestically for a paper that was trying to establish itself as the source for non-corporate America.

He was home right now in Santa Cruz, where he maintained a tiny apartment that he spent about half the year in, but especially where he lived, he tried to support local businesses over big chains.

When Dan finally made it to the counter, the rotation of the baristas meant it was Kayla who greeted him. He wasn’t sure that wasn’t a coincidence, but Kayla was one of the baristas he knew by name, so it was entirely possible she’d arranged to be the one to take his order on purpose.

Kayla was a college student, just a couple years younger than he was, and while he knew her bright red hair wasn’t a natural color, it suited her pale skin and lightly freckled face so well he couldn’t actually imagine her with her natural blonde. He knew she was studying Data Science and Computer Engineering because they’d chatted on one of Bakes and Beans’ slow days.

She was also gorgeous. She’d let slip that she did some modeling while she was in high school, but she’d gotten away from that because it wasn’t how she wanted to make her way in the world. It was, in Dan’s opinion, perfectly laudable, understandable, and also a terrible shame. Kayla was gorgeous. Her fine symmetrical features, pale green eyes, and perfect cupid’s bow lips were complemented by an hourglass figure that she couldn’t hide no matter how she dressed to minimize it. BaB’s uniform was perfectly sensible and modest, consisting of dark gray slacks and a green button-down shirt, but the buttons on Kayla’s were strained considerably more than those of her current coworkers, and even pressed slacks couldn’t hide the curve of her hips.

Dan tried not to stare. He was even mostly successful this time. He liked Kayla, but he was also a firm believer in the idea that you didn’t hit on anyone who was being paid to be there, so while they’d chatted in the past, he’d never so much as asked for her number. It wasn’t fair to put her in a position where she felt awkward about saying no, and he didn’t want to lose access to his favorite local cafe because he felt entitled to something.

In deference to the line forming behind them, he kept his interactions brief. The grateful smile on Kayla’s face when taking his order (small caramel macchiato, almond croissant, ‘like usual’) told him she recognized and appreciated the small gesture. She looked… tired, her usually warm smile strained on her face, and some of the cheer missing from her eyes. This wasn’t the time to ask her about it, though, so as soon as she finished ringing in his order and his card cleared, he stepped to the side.

Mister ‘I’m too important for you’ Business Man stepped up next. One of the other baristas, a new hire Dan thought he remembered as being named ‘Steph’, rotated in to take the man’s order. Steph was a stark contrast to Kayla in most ways, being taller, skinnier, more tanned, darker haired, and with an obvious chip on her shoulder that she only just managed to keep restrained.

As Dan waited for his drink and croissant, he watched the frustration on Steph’s (or was it Stefa? Teffa?) face rise closer and closer to the surface. “Ok, now I know you’ll probably get this wrong, but here’s what I need. Are you listening? Ok, good. So, I need a tall… I guess that’s a …. Medium? No, make it a large, half-caff… actually, no, full caff today, it’s a long day. Soy latte, served at one twenty, with full dairy foam on top, but no dairy in the drink itself. You got that?”

Dan’s eyes involuntarily rolled so far back he was momentarily blinded. Without even thinking about it, his hand went to his wallet, and he pulled out the first bill his fingers encountered. Dan frequented enough places that only took cash that he’d gotten in the habit of carrying some, even as the world at large moved to a card-only model. He jammed the bill in the tip jar, only noticing that it was a twenty when his hand was on the way back. Mister Business noticed the motion and turned to him. Still holding the phone to his ear, he sneered and commented, “You know you shouldn’t tip until after you’ve got your drink. They’ll probably mess it up, and if you tip before they’re done, they have no motivation to get it right.”

Dan gritted his teeth, managing a polite tone as he responded. “They’re hard workers, and they deserve to be compensated for that.” He got a snort in response.

“If they wanted to be paid well, they shouldn’t have chosen to work here. Look at this place, it’ll probably close down within a year. I’ve heard Starbucks is going to be opening a new location just around the corner. This little shithole won’t last two weeks once they do.” The man suddenly turned his head, staring off into space as he yelled into his phone, “No, goddamnit, tell them they can’t start without me. Fucking Morgan’s going to go in with a soft pitch like he always does, and we’ll lose our negotiating position. Damnit, Tim, I’ll be there soon. Just keep everybody cooling their heels.”

Dan shook his head, walking over to the other end of the counter to wait. He glanced around as he did, noticing that the woman in the pink hoodie had vacated the table in the corner while he was in line. He paused, torn between claiming his seat and waiting for the caffeine and carb fix he was craving. Glancing at Kayla to check on her progress, he actually caught her eye. She glanced over at the table for a moment and mouthed, “Go!”, and he flashed her a smile in gratitude, hurrying over to the free table and dropping his laptop bag in one of the empty chairs. He was about to plant his butt in the other available seat when he noticed that the woman who had been there before had left something, a small notebook bound in cream colored suede.

He picked it up, sliding into the seat and sweeping his eyes across the room. This was Santa Cruz in the winter, so there were actually three people wearing pink hoodies, but none of the ones he could see had their hoods up, and there was no sign of either weird hairstyles or cat-ear headphones to make them stand out. He’d only gotten a glimpse at the woman’s face when he first came in, so while he might recognize her on sight, it was fifty-fifty at best.

The notebook looked slightly worn, so he cracked it open in the hopes that there was some kind of identifying information inside the cover, a name or something else he might use to try to return it to its owner. Instead, at the top of the first page, were a few words in elegant calligraphy.

The The Nootbook

Dan stared at that for a few moments. The lettering was absolutely immaculate, to the point that he wasn’t sure if someone had written the header by hand or if it was printed onto the page. The pages themselves were a fine cream paper, heavier than he would have guessed, with thin blue lines. Below the title was a small block of text in a similar script.

What is inscribed here is true, whether that be cause or affect.

Write with care, for your truth can be another’s miss. Fortune favors the cautious,

but boldness will overcum.

For a few moments, Dan stared at the page, before shrugging. This was obviously something ordered from overseas, written by someone without a firm grasp on the English language. It also didn’t seem to have been used, despite the obvious signs of wear on the cover. Maybe the woman who had been sitting here before had carried it around in her backpack, or whatever, and never gotten around to actually using it. Dan knew he had a few blank notebooks from high school and college that he’d misplaced before writing a single word in them. Thinking back, those were probably dwarfed in number by the notebooks he had filled out one or two pages of, then forgotten somewhere.

He flipped through the pages of the notebook, but it looked as though they were all blank. Dan guessed that there were about a hundred pages, but none of them had so much as a single ink smudge on them past the first page. He closed the notebook - or rather, ‘The The Nootbook’ - and slid it to the side of the table, pulling out his laptop. It only took another minute or two before Kayla walked up, macchiato in one hand, croissant-bearing plate in the other. She had a smile on her lips, but it looked more brittle than usual. Glancing around, he saw that Mister Businessman was in the process of dressing down Steffa (Tifa? Tiffany?). He couldn’t make out the details, but the other barista’s body language was somewhere between professional contrition and barely contained rage.

Dan gave Kayla his most friendly, warmest smile. “Rough day?” The bottle-redhead’s posture relaxed a little as she slid his croissant and macchiato onto the table, and she leaned in to be able to speak without others hearing. “It’s… been a day. Tessa almost walked out this morning, and if she doesn’t punch that asshole, I’ll consider it a miracle. Hey, I’ll swing by to chat more later if you’re hanging around, but I need to go try to diffuse this before we lose a barista and get a lawsuit instead.” Dan chuckled quietly, calling after Kayla as she walked back towards the counter. “You guys deserve more than you’re paid!”

That thought floated through his head a few times as Dan opened his laptop and hit the power button. He never actually shut the thing down, just put it into sleep mode, so it only took a few moments for the screen to light up and present him with his logon screen. He reached towards the keys, ready to enter his password, then paused. Glancing over towards the nootbook he’d shoved aside a few moments later, he stared at it, then pulled it close again. Opening the cover, he read, and then re-read the inscription at the top.

Closing his laptop without ever logging in, Dan grabbed a pen from his laptop case, opening the notebook. With the shit these baristas went through on a day to day basis, they deserved more. He wasn’t about to ask Melanie and Jennifer to pay more up front, since he was pretty sure their margins were pretty slim, and it was the assholes of the world who deserved to bear the brunt of the cost. Instead…

Everyone in Bakes and Beans should be able to ask to be tipped. Or to tip, if they were customers, he supposed. And to get what they deserved. And that shouldn’t feel weird to anyone.

Dan gripped the pen and, before actually writing it down, shuffled around the wording of this mental note so it would flow a little better. He was a writer, after all, and he had his pride. He smiled to himself, indulging in a brief fantasy where that actually happened, specifically because of the - and he giggled again at this - ‘Nootbook’.

Dan flipped his laptop open once more and started to type. He logged in, pulled up his most recent saved document, and got to editing. This was always his least favorite part of the job. He had to imagine that aspiring voice actors and audiobook narrators shared the same problem with writers, because whether it was out loud or in writing, actually reading the things that he wrote was a thousand times worse than writing them in the first place. Actually… thinking back to the time he and a college buddy had tried starting a podcast, the voice workers probably had it worse. Reading his own writing was bad, but listening to his own voice as he edited their first podcast had been enough to shoot that idea dead while it was still in the cradle.

Dan had gotten through the first page of the document when he realized he hadn’t taken so much as a sip of his macchiato. He glanced up, looking for it, his eyes briefly sweeping across the cafe. It had cleared out a little, with only half of the tables being full. It was probably ten in the morning by now, so most people who just wanted something to take to work were already gone, leaving the writers, college students, retirees, and anyone else who didn’t have a set schedule. Mister Businessman was still there, though, seated at the table closest to the swinging door the baristas used to get out from behind the counter. His face was shoved between the legs of the woman whose name was apparently actually Tessa. Tessa had her fingers wrapped through the man’s hair, an imperious look on her face as she shoved him between her thighs.

As Dan watched, the businessman struggled halfheartedly, but failed to actually extract himself from between the barista’s bare legs. Dan realized that while Tessa still had her work blouse on, her pants were draped over the businessman’s shoulders. She was seated on the top of the table the businessman was occupying, naked from the waist down. The male barista, Tom, made his way around the table, lightly touching Tessa’s shoulder to avoid bumping into her, delivering a cardboard to-go container of drinks to a middle-aged woman standing not far from the front door.

Neither Tom, nor the middle aged woman, nor anyone else in the cafe appeared to notice the dark haired woman aggressively shoving a customer’s face into her cunt. Tessa’s mouth moved occasionally, but her words were quiet enough that Dan wasn’t able to make most of them out, with only, “That’s right, bitch…” and then a few moments later, “Fucking eat it,” coming through.

Dan worked his tongue through his mouth to moisten it. No one was reacting as though this was unusual. He’d been coming to Bakes and Beans for about two years, and the coffee and atmosphere were both good. At no point in the probably hundreds of hours he’d spent taking up space at a coffee table had he observed anything more sexual than the odd college couple making out in the corners. He wouldn’t be surprised if he learned there was some literal under the table hanky-panky going on that no one had noticed, but a grown man openly performing cunnilingus on one of the baristas was new. And admittedly pretty hot. Tessa’s face kept shifting between open pleasure and the same anger she’d shown earlier, but the businessman was apparently on his way towards earning her forgiveness for his behavior, as Tessa’s moans started to get louder and louder.

A stray thought hit Dan’s mind, and he slowly closed his laptop, sliding it to the side. He grabbed The The Nootbook and moved it to the table in front of himself, then cracked open the cover once more. Forcing himself to pay close attention, he re-read what he had actually written on the first page, just under the header block.

Anyone at Bakes and Beans may ask to top, or to be topped. No one is forced to give more than the person asking deserves, but if it’s within their means, they’ll give what’s asked. No one will complain about being asked, or about seeing others ask, or find it unusual to see someone getting what they ask for.

That… was almost what Dan had intended to write. He’d meant for it to mean the staff could ask for tips and get them if they deserved, but without it making it weird for customers to ask to tip instead. He had somehow written ‘top’ instead of ‘tip’ twice, but otherwise the wording was about the same.

Tessa cried out as she came, both hands clutching the businessman’s hair and preventing him from escaping her thighs. No one else in the cafe so much as turned their head as the college student came on the face of the man who had been berating her about ten minutes before. She relaxed her grip a few moments later, allowing the man to pull his head back and gasp in a breath, but did not release him. A few seconds later, she had his face between her thighs again.

Dan held up a hand, gesturing until he caught Kayla’s attention. The line had mostly vanished by now, and the other two baristas seemed to have a handle on things, so he beckoned her over. She held up a finger asking him to wait, but accompanied the gesture with an apparently genuine smile. She exchanged a few words with the other two baristas behind the counter, then turned to make her way towards them. She paused at the table Tessa was still seated on, legs now wrapped around the businessman’s shoulders. The two women exchanged a few words too quiet for Dan to hear, then Kayla walked the rest of the way to stand before him. “Hey Dan! Need anything else? Another macchiato?”

The woman’s body language was actually way more relaxed than it had been the last time, when she’d brought his drink and croissant. Dan smiled at that, though he couldn’t entirely dispel the sense of unease creeping just below the surface at the sheer oddity of the situation. “Actually, I was wondering about… that.” He pointed towards Kayla’s fellow barista, currently working on her second orgasm.

Kayla turned, searching the room for a moment before figuring out what Dan was pointing at. She looked back at him, smiling again. “Oh, Tessa just asked to top that guy, since he was being such an asshole and deserved to be put in his place. She broke up with her boyfriend a couple weeks ago, and has been on edge since. Apparently she thinks that dude’s place is servicing her.” She shrugged at the thought, then turned to Dan abruptly and asked, “Oh, did you want to top me? You’re always so considerate, I normally wouldn’t ask, but, well… since you brought it up…”

Dan blinked at Kayla’s sudden request. He was quiet for a moment, before asking cautiously, “Can you tell me… what you think that would entail?” His eyes flicked over towards the man again gasping for breath as Tessa permitted him air.

Kayla laughed quietly, turning to follow Dan’s gaze, then looked back at him. “Oh, you know… I think I’m a pretty good barista, so maybe I deserve to have my tits teased to an orgasm, or what Tom’s giving Karen…” She gestured over her shoulder without looking. Dan glanced over to see that, just inside the door to the cafe, Tom had the middle aged woman he’d delivered the to-go order to bent over a table. Tom was an older college student, in his mid to late twenties, while the blonde woman was just shy of old enough to be his mother. The way he pumped his hips as he fucked her showed no signs of any lack of enthusiasm on his part, though. Dan couldn’t see either of their faces from this angle, but both barista and customer showed all signs of being really into the sex. He turned back to look at Kaya, who added, “You’d be the one topping, though, so you tell me. Will you top me, Dan?”

Some part of Dan’s mind wanted to hesitate. Another part wanted to immediately and enthusiastically claim Kayla. While those two parts were debating, his mouth spoke without bothering to consult the rest of him. “Of course, Kayla. Now sit in my lap and get your shirt off like a good girl.”

The barista immediately and smoothly moved to obey. Stepping around the table, she slid her hips up onto Dan’s lap sideways, snuggling one shoulder against his chest. Dan was only a little above average height, while Kayla was a little below it, so he had to lift one of his arms up fairly high to wrap it around her shoulders as she started to unbutton her work shirt, but the feeling of the beautiful college student snuggling into his lap was wonderfully natural and intimate. Dan glanced around to take in the rest of the room, but no one seemed to be paying any more attention to his activities with Kayla in the corner than they had to Tessa and her still-nameless pussy licker. Though she seemed to be losing steam by now. She was still gripping the businessman’s hair, but it was only with one hand, and her efforts to keep his face between her thighs were half-hearted at best. As Kayla’s work shirt dropped onto the table beside Dan, Tessa pushed the businessman away, slid off of the table and began to pull a pair of dark maroon panties up her legs.

Dan focused on the now topless woman with him instead of the pantsless one across the room. Kayla had on a heavy, plain, cream colored bra. It was clearly designed for function over form, maximizing support in favor of being showy, and looking at the size of the woman’s chest, he couldn’t blame her. He’d known Kayla had a big chest, but apparently every time she went to work, she did her best to minimize it. The sturdy bra covered up most of her tits, but just the hint of cleavage that was visible spoke volumes of the size of the breasts it concealed.

Dan’s hand slid up to Kayla’s back and found the clasp of her bra. The strap itself was thick, and it required three rows of hooks, but with a little concentration and effort, he was able to pop them free. The garment immediately pushed forward as the breasts it had been constraining were released. Without further prompting, Kayla shrugged her shoulders forward, catching it and draping it over the back of her shirt on the table.

Despite now being topless, her large breasts fully on display to everyone within Bakes and Beans (as well as anyone walking past the large glass facade), Kayla showed not a hint of shame or embarrassment. The fact that she was sitting on the lap of a customer didn’t seem to phase her, as she waited patiently for Dan to do whatever it was he had in mind.

The parts of Dan’s mind that had been warring came to an accord. One of his hands slid up Kayla’s now bare back, and his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed heavily into him as he held her head still, keeping her in place as he leaned forward. The lack of height difference worked out in his favor as Dan’s lips were able to easily reach Kayla’s closest nipple, and he latched onto the nub. Kayla’s nipples were already stiff, surrounded by pale areola just barely darker than the rest of her skin. When Dan’s lips made contact, he watched as goosebumps stood up across the tops of her breasts, and a moan escaped the barista’s lips. She shifted unconsciously, thrusting her chest towards him, and he began to slowly run his tongue in circles around her nipple. Keeping one hand wrapped around the back of her neck, he lifted the other to her other breast, indulging himself by sinking his fingers deep into the soft pliant flesh.

A shiver ran through Kayla, and Dan pulled his head back to look up at her. The barista’s eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as she panted with excitement. He released her breast, instead bringing his fingers to slowly circle around her nipple. A light spasm ran through her body as he did, and he asked softly, “You like having your tits played with, don’t you Kayla?”

Kayla’s eyes remained closed, but she responded in an instant. “Yes, Sir. They’ve always been sensitive. I can make myself cum if I play with them long enough.” Dan removed his finger, then lightly flicked the nipple he’d just been teasing. Kayla’s entire body spasmed in response, rocking her hips across his lap. He tightened his grip on the back of her neck, and she moaned loudly in response. He did it again.

“Well then Kayla, I think you deserve to cum while I play with your tits, and then…” He paused, flicking her other nipple, getting another spasm from the redhead’s body, then started teasing it instead, lightly brushing his finger back and forth over the stiff nub. “Do you like sucking cock?”

Another moan escaped Kayla’s lips, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid shallow breaths, even as she was held stiffly upright by the hand still wrapped around the back of her neck. “Yes, Sir. It’s not my favorite act, but I enjoy giving pleasure. My mouth is a little small for it though.” Dan responded to that by switching nipples and flicking it once more, then lifting that hand to Kayla’s lips. He slid one finger past them, and the barista immediately closed her mouth around the digit. Suckling lightly, her tongue slid rapid circles around the tip of his finger, causing Dan to sigh happily. “Don’t worry about that part. Your mouth is beautiful and perfect, and I’m sure we can figure something out. Now…” He withdrew his now saliva-slick finger and began tracing circles around one of her nipples again, flicking it once, twice, then a third time, before releasing both her breast and her neck. “Let’s see about making you cum in my lap first. Face away from me so I can play with your tits with both hands, and don’t be shy about telling me what feels good.”

Kayla sagged against Dan for just a moment, before wiggling her hips in his lap, spinning herself to sit with her back to his chest. She was only a little shorter than he was, so Dan’s face was pressed into the back of her shoulder, but he was far beyond caring about that. His hands immediately slid up beneath Kayla’s arms, wrapping around her and sinking his fingers into both tits. For several long moments, he indulged himself by squeezing and grabbing the breasts he had more than once idly fantasized about, never imagining he’d actually be in a position to enjoy them. Kayla made no move to stop him, but she obediently reported, “I like that you’re enjoying yourself, Sir, but while that feels nice, it isn’t going to make me cum. I need direct nipple stimulation for that, and it will help push me over the edge if you squeeze them hard when I’m close. Don’t worry about hurting me or them - it’ll help.”

Dan almost laughed at that. He’d had several girlfriends over the span of his life. He would have paid actual real money to have even a single one of them be as direct and straightforward about what got them off. He released Kayla’s tits, instead sliding his hands over them by feel until the stiff nubs of her breasts sat in the middle of his palm. Rubbing his hands in circles for a moment, he felt the barista beginning to writhe slowly in his lap. He was hard as a rock by now, his erection fully trapped beneath Kayla’s posterior, and it could not possibly have escaped her notice.

Shifting his hands, Dan slid his index fingers and thumbs onto Kayla’s stiff nipples, gripping them firmly, and began to slide his fingers back and forth. She moaned as she squirmed in his lap, wordlessly at first, then loudly announcing to the room, “Fuck, Sir, just like that. Keep that up for another couple minutes and I’ll cum…” The surreal nature of the scene flooded Dan’s consciousness for a moment, as Kayla reinforced the fact that he was seated in full daylight in a half-full cafe, playing with a fantastic set of tits that were facing towards the room at large. He realized he’d heard the front door chime several times since Kayla got in his lap, but so far no one else in the room had uttered so much as a peep about his behavior. He didn’t consider himself an exhibitionist, but it was hard to deny the fact that he was getting some amount of thrill from the setting. He tilted his head back, whispering hotly up in Kayla’s ear. “That’s it. You deserve to cum in my lap. Cum for me, Kayla, then we’re going to find out how much of my cock fits in your mouth.”

She groaned, her hands slapping down onto her own thighs. That trapped Dan’s arms beneath her own, but he still had enough freedom of motion to continue tweaking her nipples, building up speed as Kayla squirmed and writhed in his lap. As she began to gasp out, “Yes, Yes, like that! Harder! Harder, Sir!” he squeezed. Gently, at first, but at her continued exultations he pinched her nipples harder and harder. Abruptly, Kayla tossed her head back, nearly headbutting him in the process, her entire body stiffening as she yelled out, “CUMMING!” loudly enough that they probably heard her in the bookstore across the street.

Dan kept Kayla’s nipples pinched until he felt her begin to shake, then relax, releasing them to instead grab handfuls of her large breasts once more, squeezing and massaging the pliant flesh while she recovered. Eventually, he released them, and the barista slowly slid off of his lap without prompting. Spinning around, she dropped to her knees in front of him and looked up at him, pale green eyes wide. He nodded.

Kayla’s hands reached up into Dan’s lap and she carefully unzipped his jeans. One of her hands delicately slipped past his zipper and fished through the fly of his boxers, wrapping around the rock hard cock she’d been grinding her ass into for the past several minutes. It took some careful maneuvering, but she eventually worked it free, exposing it to the warm air of the cafe.

As his dick was suddenly exposed, a wave of paranoia washed over Dan. His eyes suddenly scanned over the rest of the patrons. No one was paying him any attention. Tom was still fucking the middle aged blonde woman, who was now naked on her back on the table closest to the front door. Dan idly realized he didn’t know who in that pair was topping who. He’d initially assumed Tom was topping the customer, but given the way the younger man was sweating as he worked to pump himself into her cunt, he realized it might have been the other way around.

The sensation of warm breath on the head of his cock abruptly captured Dan’s attention. Kayla’s eyes were still looking up at him from his lap, but she’d shifted forward enough that her lips were less than an inch away from his dick. He reached a hand down, brushing it lightly along the brilliantly red hair she had tied back in a ponytail, then cupped her cheek. She tilted her head to lean into his hand for a moment, before he slid his fingers firmly around the back of her skull.

Kayla parted her lips, and Dan gently pushed her head forward, sliding her mouth around the head of his cock.

Immediately, Kayla’s tongue repeated the performance it had given Dan’s finger earlier, sliding around the head of his cock in rapid slick circles. He watched as her cheeks moved with the motion, but her eyes remained wide and fixed on his face, her head held in place by his hand. He began to slowly pull forward, and she opened her mouth as wide as she was able. He stopped before he was more than half buried in her mouth as he felt the head of his cock hit the back of her throat, her eyes fluttering closed involuntarily as she tried to keep herself from gagging.

The instructions Kayla had given him earlier had been incredibly helpful, so Dan tried to be equally specific and detailed. “Now, Kayla… I want you to keep your mouth on my cock, but it’s more important that you stimulate both the head and the base than that you try to get as much of me in your face as possible. If you could wrap your lips around the base of my dick, that would be lovely, but if you can’t, it’s just as good to wrap one hand around the bottom of my cock while you work that wonderfully nimble tongue around the head.” He paused, then released the hand holding her head in place while he asked, “Understand?”

“Mmr-mmd!” Kayla tried to respond with a mouthful of dick, and while the word was muffled, the enthusiastic assent was crystal clear. She immediately slid one of her hands up to the base of Dan’s cock, wrapping slender fingers around it and beginning to stroke them up and down while gripping firmly. Her pale green eyes fluttered shut as she focused on working her tongue in rapid circles.

Dan slumped back in his chair. Part of him wanted to just relax and let Kayla keep working, but he was supposed to be topping her. His hand again slid up, this time grabbing her ponytail, and he used that as a handle to guide her motions. She did her best to keep up as he pulled back until her lips were barely touching the head of his cock, then gamely opened her jaws wide as he pushed her head forward. He stopped when he felt his cock touch the back of her throat, leaving her face impaled on his erection while she continued to slide her fingers along the base of his cock.

For the next few minutes, he guided Kayla’s motions, groaning occasionally as her tongue hit a sensitive spot, trying to encourage her. “Yes… right there. Mmm, Kayla… Keep doing that with your tongue… Fuck…”

Across the room, he heard Tom grunting repeatedly, his hips flush with the blonde woman’s as he emptied his balls into her. Another customer walked in the door, stepping around the couple to approach the counter without so much as pausing.

Dan gripped his fingers around Kayla’s ponytail, squeezing firmly as he began to move her head faster and faster. He could tell his orgasm wasn’t far off, but he needed just a little push to get there. His voice trembled a little as he said, “Ok, I’m going to fuck your face now. You just keep doing what you’re doing until you swallow my cum. Ok?” “Mmm-mm!” Kayla didn’t even pause as she grunted her agreement around Dan’s dick, her eyes still closed as she let her customer use her face.

Dan felt his hips suddenly twitch, his knees flexing and pushing back against the floor as his orgasm began rising up through his entire body. His head flopped back, but he forced his eyes to stay open as his balls began to pulse. He pulled back on Kayla’s hair, positioning her so her lips were just barely around the head of his cock as he filled her mouth with his cum. As he watched, she swallowed rapidly, doing her best to keep up with the flow. She failed, but only just, a little dribble of drool and cum escaping her lips to drip down the base of Dan’s shaft until it stopped against one of the barista’s knuckles.

For several long moments, Dan and Kayla were still, with the only motion being the redhead’s tongue gently flitting across the very tip of Dan’s cock. Then, slowly, Dan pulled the barista off of his dick. She immediately beamed a smile up at him, raising her hand to her mouth to lick off the errant drop of cum.

Then she stood, her knees wobbling a little until she braced herself against the table. As Dan watched, she reached over and snagged her bra, wrapping it around her torso. She slid the hooks to the front, fastening them there, then rotated the garment around herself. It took her a little effort to arrange her tits in the cups, but Dan was more than happy to watch the entire affair. Then she grabbed her shirt, slid her arms into the sleeve and began to button it up.

He heaved a sigh of regret as the magnificent monuments were put away, but couldn’t really begrudge Kayla the support. Now that he knew what she hid away beneath the modest button-up, he had to guess her back ached by the time she went to bed. He tore his eyes away from her chest, raising them and finding her already looking at him. She wore a warm smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little as she met his gaze. “Thanks, Dan. Remind me next time you’re here, you were already my favorite customer, AND you’re a good topper…”

She glanced around the room. No one had paid them any attention when the busty redhead had screamed out an orgasm while he was playing with her tits, but she looked more nervous as she lowered her head and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. She straightened quickly, glanced around once more, and whispered, “We aren’t supposed to date customers, but… thanks, Dan. You’re sweet.”

Kayla whirled, abruptly making a bee line for the restroom. Dan stared at her until she vanished from sight, then shook his head. His hand reached out to the table and he snagged the suede covered notebook, opening it to the first page again. The same words were present, both the original text and his own handwriting.

On a sudden hunch, he flipped to the very last page, just inside the back cover. There were more words there, in shaky handwriting he didn’t recognize.

Someone kind will find this book and will not not not not use it for anything. I will meet my Master Right and never be enslaved for life. I will never see the the nootbook again.