The smell of coffee was the best thing about Vivianne’s date so far.
The man in front of her, while cute, was boring and had a look of creepy desperation that he signaled by staring too much at her chest.
Sure, her cleavage was ample, but she always wanted to look good and sensual. Especially if things turned out to go smoothly.
But she never expected him to be so dull.
If she went with him that night, she had a feeling that he would penetrate her, cum, and leave her wanting,. Even leave as soon as he was done.
Or maybe just murder her. Who knew maybe she would end up in a True Crime podcast and it would be the best part of her last date.
She smiled to herself, trying to keep up with his inane ranting. Bringing the cup to her lips, she inhaled the aroma and relaxed.
He kept droning about his job. But she had already decided to leave as soon as she finished her coffee.
Finally, he stopped himself. Thank god, she thought.
With a defeated smile and some hesitation, he said, “So, do I have a chance with you or...”
Still, with the cup close to her mouth, Vivianne answered with a kind smile, “Sorry, no. You kept talking about yourself and if I can’t tell you about me over a cup of coffee, how are you going to listen to me when we are having sex?”
He nodded. At least he seemed like a gentleman. He got up from his seat, gave a polite smile, and left.
The barista approached and served her another cup.
“Third guy you’ve rejected, Vivianne.” He took a seat. It was just her and another regular about to leave.
She liked the small conversations they had after their dates. Karl was a sweetheart, always there for her with a cup of coffee, the first one and the last one in her day.
She traded the cup and gave an exaggerated sigh. “They don’t listen. They like to talk and talk but they don’t listen.”
She feigned a gasp. “I am a good listener. He worked in a law firm, he makes a lot of money, he has a Lexus, and that’s all he talked about for 20 minutes. He wanted to impress me to have a one-night stand, not to form a connection.”
“And how do you form a connection?”
“A conversation, easy as that.” Vivianne wasn’t angry, just disappointed. Another sip. She felt relaxed and could be herself with her barista, whose name, she was ashamed to admit, she only remembered because of his name tag.
“Like this one?”
“Yeah, sure, you know how much I like your coffee. You pay attention and know this is the third guy that has failed to meet my standards. They are all cute, but I really should stop with the app-dating.”
“So if I asked you, would you go out with me?”
Vivianne was slightly taken aback. She raised an eyebrow and took the barista in. He was kind of cute. Broad shoulders, a slim, cocky smile, bright brown skin, black curly hair, big hands that make the most delicious coffee in her life.
If she said yes, she might be surprised to find that the man that made her coffee had other talents, but if it didn’t hit off, she might have to find another coffee shop and she doubted she could find another place where she could drink such an amazing coffee and unwind.
On the other hand… Great coffee for breakfast didn’t sound so bad.
She took another sip like the answer was inside her cold brew.
“I might. What were you thinking?”
“What about right now?”
She sighed, slightly disappointed.
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I just got out. Eric, over there, is the last customer, and he leaves as soon as he finishes the chapter he is reading.” He pointed to the man reading by the window. He passed the page and drank the last of his coffee.
Karl smiled at her. “I can bring you another cup, on the house. This is a date after all.”
“I will take your word on that.” Vivianne drank from her cup.
“I see you every day. What is it you do?” He walked to the bar and kept talking while preparing another cup. The sound of him working had a pleasant rhythm.
The machine pumping, the steam choosing, the click and clack of the cup against the plates.
It was almost musical.
The background music was smooth jazz, simple, not too loud. She closed her eyes and listened.
She heard the last man get up, throw coins on the table and leave, the small ding from the door announcing another satisfied customer.
They were the only two left in the café.
The smell of coffee permeated the place. She tried to follow the rhythm and tune tapping the fingernails on the table.
“Vivianne?” Karl asked again. He was walking towards her.
She opened her eyes, “I...” Vivianne felt a little dazed. “I work in finance, consulting. Most of my clients try to hit on me though.”
She took another sip of the coffee between her hands. It was almost over.
Karl sat down and placed another cup in front of her. It had a pretty design of a flower made with foam. It waved as he placed it on the table.
He took the old one from her hands, caressing her fingers for a brief moment. She felt a pleasant shiver go through her body.
“You...” she grasped her hands. It was like electricity that felt good, a familiar feeling. She hesitated as the feeling vanished.
“...You make coffee, right?” She managed to mutter.
He brought another cup. It smelled different. A deeper and richer aroma.
“Yes, you could put it like that. I own the place.” He said and sipped from his own cup.
“I really love the smell of coffee, the taste, the warmth of a cup between my hands, the texture of pushing my hand deep into a bag of freshly roasted coffee beans.”
He brought a bag of coffee. The aroma it released was inebriating.
“Here, push your hand inside.” He took her hand and placed it on top. “Go ahead,” he said and led her fingers deep into the coffee-filled bag.
It was a pleasant sensation; she had to admit. Like that movie, what was it called?
“Focus,” He said, “let go of everything else and feel the moment, feel the small beans slide between your hands.”
“Take a deep breath,” He kept going, “This is what gives my coffee shop its unique smell. I worked really hard to make the perfect blend.”
Vivianne took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She felt the small beans between her fingers. She could hear his voice so close to her. It was so relaxing, so soothing.
Karl caressed her hand between the coffee. It was warm and made her tingle and blush.
He was so close, she could almost lean in and-
“Perfect, just like you.” He said and leaned in, kissing her lips.
She welcomed him and returned the kiss.
It lasted a few seconds, but felt longer.
“Come with me,” He said and led her by her hand.
He changed the sign from open to closed and with a flick of a switch, all the curtains were down.
Vivianne felt like walking through a warm fog. The smell of coffee was everywhere around her.
But there was something else, it was intoxicating. She wanted to feel that warmth of his inside her, kiss him some more.
He pushed her and made her sit over the bar.
One hand over her legs, caressing the black pantyhose and pulling up her skirt.
“I heard you say that they never listen to you when you have sex.” He kissed her legs.
Her eyes still closed, she felt safe and comfortable. She was enjoying the way he was taking charge.
“Yes,” she purred, holding his hand and pushing it up between her thighs.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” He said caressing above the nylon and the cute lace panties she was wearing underneath. “How do you like to be touched?” He leaned in and whispered into her ear.
Vivianne took his hand and led him up over her clothes, over her belly, and towards her chest. She tried to talk, slowly; it felt difficult, foggy, like trying to move through molasses. “I… I like to be touched,” she muttered and placed his hand over her right breast.
“How do you like to be touched?” Karl asked, groping her.
Vivianne moaned. “Like, like that.”
“You like to be groped,” He repeated as he slid his hand under her blouse and bra.
“Yes… Kindly…” She gasped, “But… firmly… like…”
“Like you were owned?” He asked as he pulled her nipple, hard.
“Yes.” she yelped. She repeated the word “Owned.” It felt delicious to say it out loud.
Karl massaged her breasts. It was a delightful feeling. He leaned in and bit her neck.
“Yes.” she repeated, this time enjoying the feeling of his teeth against her skin. “Yes!”
The smell of coffee was stronger by the bar. It filled her mind. It was calming, reassuring, and it was very warm. His body against her.
Karl lifted her from the waist, placing her on the bar and pushed her skirt up. He pulled her pantyhose and panties down in a swift movement without stopping kissing her neck nor his right hand leaving her chest. He was dexterous and in a few seconds; she was naked from the waist down.
The bar was cold against her bare ass, but his warm fingers slid inside her.
“Do you want to be owned by me?” He growled into her ear.
It took her a moment to realize what he was asking.
His fingers pushed inside her, pressing against her g-spot and massaging her from within.
She moaned. “Yes.”
Vivianne felt him smile against her neck.
“I will make you mine if you want to.” His voice echoed inside her head.
His fingers danced over her clit.
He was taking off the rest of her clothes.
Vivianne wanted this, deep inside her she had always wanted this.
“Yes.” She said, “Deeper.” She pleaded.
And yet. His fingers slipped out of her.
She moaned in frustration.
“Deeper?” He asked spreading her legs.
“Yes,” Vivianne begged, “Please?”
Then she felt a warmth against her crotch. Karl’s cock fell over her mound.
“Do you want me inside you?”
Like swimming in warm coffee, she lifted her legs and pulled him closer to her.
“Yes, fuck me,” she said.
“You can’t say I don’t listen when a lady asks me to.” Karl mocked her and slowly slid his cock inside her pussy.
Vivianne hugged him close. She felt his skin against her. She was naked already, her white blouse hanging by her shoulders, her bra nowhere to be seen.
And his lips kissed hers, his tongue dancing in her mouth. It tasted like coffee.
He thrust his cock, and she moaned in his mouth, never letting go of his body, burning with desire. She felt him twitch inside her.
“Fuck me.” She said the moment he let her go to breathe.
“I will,” He groaned, “I will fuck you and make you mine. Own your mind, body, and soul.”
Vivianne gasped, the idea of being owned. She wanted that. She wanted to be his forever.
“Yes!” she moaned.
Never mind that it was her first date with him, never mind all those pesky doubts and second thoughts. Right now she wanted to be his, his slave, his pet, whatever he wanted.
He whispered in his ear. The words get lost in the pleasure. It simply made it grow.
He thrust inside her harder, faster, driving her closer to the climax.
She felt like riding a wave through the fog, his thrust and rhythm pushing her closer and closer to the verge of pleasure.
Getting closer to the edge.
“Whatever you want, whatever you desire, yes please,” she begged, unable to know what she was agreeing to. “I just want to cum, make me come!” She was driven by her lust, by her desire.
She pulled him closer and kissed him.
He pulled her nipples and groped her with one hand while the other was on her lower back.
“YES!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Yes, she said again and again until her consciousness faded between the smell of coffee and sex.
Days went by, she spent more and more time at the café becoming intimate with Karl, the barista, the owner. Vivianne spent every night with him, and she started agreeing to all his ideas.
One day she tired of coming and going and moved to his place above the café. Eventually, between the coffee and the sex, she decided to quit her stressful job and join Karl at the Café full-time.
She became a waitress. Over time, Karl suggested to have her dressed up as a maid. Vivianne loved it. Her uniform had small bells on the frills of the skirt that jingled as she walked. The customers found it quaint and cute.
What they never knew was that underneath her clothes, three little bells more were hanging from her nipples and clit. They too jiggled as she walked.
Those were the uniform she wore for him at night.
Only for her owner.