Erotica

A Brief Carnal Encounter at the Cafe

I was captivated by the stranger. I didn’t know he was taken and things would get a lot hotter than our coffees.

I didn’t want to do it. I told myself. So then, why did you? I asked the image in the mirror. What kind of person are you to take advantage of someone who was seemingly innocent and already in a relationship?

I couldn’t answer those questions, except to feel the same need stir in the groin area of my body that is usually the betrayer of my misdeeds. I was recalling seeing this stranger standing in line at the coffee shop, and admiring his choice of attire which accentuated all the right body parts and had my heart thumping. I walked up behind them to begin a conversation, just two customers at a cafe, this stranger’s sense of humor was fresh and spontaneous. A sense of humor has always been a turn-on for me if it comes naturally and is not too over-the-top, and the conversation we were having was easy, natural and had me laughing. I was totally turned-on, in spite of seeing a ring on the stranger’s finger, which told me I ought to back off.

“Married?” I’d queried, to continue the conversation and to make sure I wasn’t going to walk away from something I could, perhaps, have more of if I wanted.

The look on the stranger’s face at my question was one of surprise and uncertainty, unsure how to respond. What? I wondered. Why the look? Will I hear a lie, or what?

I waited in anticipation, looking in the stranger’s eyes for any tells. Then came the “No,” I had hoped for. But then, “Not yet,” was added.

Hmmm - was the “No” sufficient, or should I be honorable and ask what was meant by “Not yet”? I glanced at the hand with the ring and asked, “Engaged then?”

“Well, not really engaged,” the stranger responded somewhat hesitantly, “It’s more like engaged to be engaged if that makes sense.”

“Sure, I get it.” But didn’t really. Before I could say more, our coffees were put down in front of us at about the same time, one latte and one a cappuccino.

“Do you have time to sit and drink your coffee here, or do you have to dash back to work?” I’d asked.

“No, I have time to sit.”

That response brought on a sense of excitement and some hope for fulfilling an idea that I wanted badly to pursue.

As we walked towards a table at the back, I couldn’t help feeling captivated by this stranger’s way of walking, exuding a grace, yet also a sensuality just by moving. Good lord. My body reacted to ‘my new friend,’ and although the conversation continued where we had left off before the ‘marriage’ question was asked, I couldn’t remember exactly what all we talked about as my mind had been in ‘plotting mode.’ I just knew our talk had been easy, fun and amusing. While I listened and responded, I also plotted. I was ready to implement a plan when it was nearing time to leave, with our coffees finished and the clock ticking toward ‘return-to-work time.’

As I had predicted, drinking coffee did what it usually does, which is make the bladder full and insistently needing to be relieved. We both chuckled at those base needs as we got up, ditched our cups in the tub provided, and walked toward the sign marked: ‘Restrooms.’ My body was on fire.

Like many restrooms in this day and age, these were unisex, so we could have gone to either. But since the stranger had gotten behind me, I just stopped at the first door. I watched the other door where the stranger had entered, just about to close. I stepped up and pushed it open, before it could lock, and walked inside. Then, I locked the door behind me.

The stranger’s face bore a surprised look as I entered, but not one of fear, I was happy to see. I moved in closer and brought his face to mine to kiss him eagerly and passionately. But it was not until my tongue probed his mouth that I got the response I had hoped for, with groping, tugging and pulling away clothes. Hands on butts pulled us close together, as each felt the heat build in the other. Soon, I was grasping and stroking the very hard member that seemed ready to explode, and quickly I knelt. I held the anticipated hard staff and enveloped the head with my mouth and licked and sucked, just as someone began knocking on the door.

I pulled away and in near-timed unison, we both said, “It’s busy!” Then with urgent panting from him to proceed, and a little chuckle from me, I lowered my mouth over the swollen, red head and continued.

“Oh God!” echoed in the small space, along with deep moans of pleasure. Soon my strokes came faster and faster, then harder and harder until the final ecstatic screams, muffled by sheer will, came bouncing off the tiled walls. I had stroked and sucked it to its needed explosion that ended in moans of “Oh, my God!”

I stood as semen dripped from my mouth and finished by kissing him once again.

These memories were making me hot all over thinking about that day. Especially as I remembered how I helped him regain enough stamina to reciprocate, and the pleasure I felt when he knelt before me, fist encompassing my cock and brought me to the great moment of ecstasy I was longing for. It was equally hot when he stood with cum smeared lips and kissed me goodbye.

Am I sorry for what I did? I should be, but I’m not. Will it happen again? I’m not so sure, one way or the other, but I’m certain that I will keep returning to that cafe in hope of seeing the stranger and maybe finding out his name.