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Smoke Break

It was perfect: I had unexpectedly skipped work and cleared off all of the dregs of daily worry - the bills, the half-read copies of Vice, the fliers, forms, and applications for things we'd never do - that normally crowded what little table space we had in our tiny apartment above the ubiquitous bars of avenue A. I had cleaned every square inch of that damn counter, the stove, even the fucking toilet. Bed was made, dishes were done, dinner was ordered. All she had to do was come home. I spent the better part of an hour staring out the window, waiting, my hand resting on and eventually slowly wandering along my bulging, half-mast dick that lay sensitive beneath my jeans, throbbing as I thought of that moment during dinner when the kiss would last just a bit too long and we both knew without a word that we'd fall asleep with the warm, salty taste of each other in our mouths.

But this was taking a bit too long and if I waited any longer I'd have blown it before the party started. I smoothed out the fold in my jeans, tucked my shirt back in, grabbed an old paperback, popped the door open and didn't even wait to hear it click before throwing myself into the odd tangle of bodies and wheels, turning sharply out the door and heading up towards ninth street. I rounded the corner, throwing passing girls the bedroom smile, thinking at each one as I passed how lucky she'd be to have a guy like me, tacky romantic and only twenty five, but she ain't that lucky, at least not tonight. Tonight I round the corner throwing out only smiles and my sticky sweet desire smell as I turn the corner into the coffee shop and look around, eyes behind the bar, in the corners, in the back, not even glancing at the other people inside. Area clear, not here, I look at the girl working the counter, Beth. She looks at me, eyes flinch, one way, back the other, and then back to me. Her lip ring disappears inside her mouth as she chews her bottom lip, then pops back out and she perks up.

"Ben, Hi, Amy's still here, don't... know where she went. Jenn's out, she had to cover."

Will fails me, my eyes flit down, catching the bits of birds and musical notes and colors inscribed on her pale breasts through the artful tears in her shirt, the ones I'm not supposed to have seen or felt but that I can still remember the contours of. "Oh, cool. I'll wait. Can I get a macchiato?"

Caught. She smirks. "I know what you want. Siddown."

I kick out a stool, sitting facing out the window and flopping the book in front of my nose. As I stare at the words, not really seeing them for their content since I'm too busy going back over how Beth's voice changed when I took a handful of blond hair and pulled it not too hard but just hard enough for her to know that I could have pulled it a lot harder, I could hear the cars in the street and the low chatter at the tables beside me but I couldn't hear the back alley. I couldn't see the cafe about a half hour ago, couldn't see Amy as she effortlessly pulled out the black band that keeps her smooth, jet black hair from becoming the finishing touch on every latte, putting it in her teeth as she ran her hands through it and wrapped it back up into that upright column that spills just right, her breasts thrown forwards with no more care as if she were in the shower. I didn't see him as he came in, pausing for the briefest moment in the doorway as he saw her with her mind elsewhere for the moment, pale chest held in and up but barely by the scarlet bra I love because it comes apart so easily between those nipples that never seem soft. He strides up to the bar, flashes a smile as she turns to knock the last few crumbs from the espresso machine and while he takes the chance to look down past the pinstripes that bend just right around her full, tight curves and halt just above the heels that carry her chin a few more inches over the counter and her tits a half step forward.

I didn't see her as she looks up, not expecting to see anyone there at this odd time when everyone who isn't here is sitting across from what they're doing that night over their first of many drinks. Her face flashed a moment's surprise, the kind you'd allow if you saw a face in the mirror that isn't yours, before remembering place and time and job and teeth and relaxing into the easy service smile. In that whole long quarter second she managed to size him up, looking upwards to the top of his sandy hair with flecks of gray splayed in effortless effort across a tanned forehead with just a hint of sweat a little more than six feet above his freshly polished brown shoes that she could have put both feet inside one of. She saw what he didn't try to hide, the firm calves hitting thighs tight from biking, the bulge that didn't need any help from the jeans that didn't hide it. I didn't see her as she took in with her eyes the broad chest covered in pale, striped linen, opened at the top with just the briefest hint of black ink showing on his chest, lines, rays coming from just over his heart. his two hands, rough but clean, moved forwards to the bar, and he spoke in a solid, calm voice that she'd listen to whether it told her to pull him a shot or to pull out his cock, which was heavy, soft, and waiting.

I didn't hear him say "Double espresso," with not a syllable wasted.

She smiled, a blush playing through the eponymous cosmetic already lightly dusting her cheeks, which she noted was working as it should as she took a moment before letting her hands do what they knew to do on their own by now to check her face in the perfectly polished mess of Italian pipes it was her job to squeeze and excite all throughout the day. I didn't see her hand shaking faintly as she brought the saucer to the tiny cup with a clink, turning on her heels and letting her breasts rise and fall with a breath before using it to say, "Here you go. $2.10."

I didn't feel it when he pushed his broad hand into his pocket, feeling for three crisp singles to tuck into his right palm and then into hers, cupping both her hands beneath his left for just a moment too long before scooping up his coffee and turning towards a table without having to tell her to keep the change. with a smile to the strangers already sitting nearby he planted himself, watching the street in ease and enjoying what wasn't even close to her best shots of the day. Those she made early in the morning, before blood had rushed to her labia, which she now felt beating alongside her heart and growing moist alongside her tongue. She waited until he had all but finished his coffee before taking out a pack of Marlboro reds and standing conspicuously nearby him, inviting him to look up at where her shirt didn't quite cover where her bra didn't quite cover the sides of her breast. When she saw that he had that momentary look of longing to him despite the confidence and ease with which he spoke she tapped two smokes out away from their brothers and held them up like chopsticks. With one small hand on his shoulder (as firm as she thought) she tilted her head for a moment at the back door, needing as few words as he.

He followed her behind the polish of the cafe, along the gritty tiles and out to the surprisingly pleasant little back alley. Because this shop was lucky enough not to share it with greasy chinese places or bars, they could afford a little bench to smoke on, to keep their pavement clean and free from the trash that attracts rats and rapists, and have a spot to come to and bitch about customers. As they walked out, he kicked the door shut behind him and she parted her pert lips to let the filter of a cigarette in only to find that he had plucked it out from her mouth alongside the one she meant to offer him. In a single movement, his thick arm swept down and behind her, coming to rest on that perfect ridge where her ass leaned over to kiss the backs of her thighs. as he straightened out his legs and she came off the ground, she found her knees bending up halfway to his armpits and her crotch coming towards his, pants be damned. His other arm went up and his fingers tucked into her dark hair, firmly grasping the back of her neck and pulling her face in towards his. I didn't see his tongue as it darted forward to touch hers once briefly, then twice, then, finding that it wasn't unwelcome, made itself at home among her teeth, tasting the espressos she's been pulling all day long. As they collapsed against the brick wall, her arms tried in vain to make it all the way around his back and she contented herself with placing her palms flatly against his chest, feeling it heave and twist as he pulled her small body in tightly to his.

He let her slip down to the ground, her small feet extending one at a time to meet the pavement. As he released her and as she slid downwards he made sure to carefully guide his rough palms along her sides and under her thin, stretching shirt, and she could feel his crotch pulse strong and momentarily firm as he turned her around and again pulled her hips against his body. His hands slid up, and she threw hers back against his pelvic crests as he allowed his two broad arms to part, sending one northward to take stock of her nipples, clearly visible now despite layers of armor. The other he let fall downwards, over her pinstripe pants thin and tight in the crotch, thumb over her clitoris and four long fingers along her inner thigh. With this he worked more sounds out of her than she had made as long as he'd known her. She used what little wit she had left to maneuver her two hands along what she could reach of his belly, feeling the weight of his belt buckle and the firm flesh waiting beneath it. she felt him flex his cock, sending shivers along her legs as it filled like a balloon beneath her fingers. She turned beneath his heavy arms, and put one hand under his expectant balls and the other just a bit higher, at his belt. as she began to tug on it, he exhaled heavily and, again tight with words, said quickly, "Not here. Your place?" She bit her lip, glanced at the doorway, and let her heels click along the pavement as she walked him out of the Alley.

Then I did see her, and I did see him. I let my eyes devour the both of them for a moment before my brain kicked in, reminding me that this was something I ought to react to. I left the paperback where it was and missed the steps up to the cafe as I popped back on to the street. "What's this you found," I said, not knowing that I'd be wordier than the both of them in just a single sentence. "Working late, huh?"

She turned to me with a smile, looking me up and down more obviously than she had been able to look at him before I came in. "You could say that. Coming?" I rolled my eyes and followed along, watching him grin and shake his head in amusement as he continued to run his hand along her ass as they walked.

I hardly remember the street or the steps to our apartment. I couldn't tell you which one of us fished out our keys first, letting this broad, clean man step into our home and look around for the bed with eyes that wouldn't have stopped for a moment on a two-headed dog if one was barking at him, not with his cock bursting like it was. Seeing our small bedroom, clean and pressed, he dropped Amy's hand, striding towards it while pulling off his shirt. As his muscular back rippled invitingly at the two of us, Amy turned to me and said, "Looks nice in here" as she peeled off her shirt and followed. I simply grinned, kicking off my sneakers and ending up last in the room.

Amy stopped our new friend as his hands fell to his belt. She took over, pulling out the leather strap and pausing briefly only to run her hand along the ridge of buttons still on my chest suggestively, the suggestion being, "What the hell are these still doing here?" I planted a hand on each ass, one on her perfectly round and smooth pinstriped wool and one on his filled, firm denim, and took in the smells of sweat and precum before running my hands down my own buttons and letting my shirt fall off my thin shoulders. I looked at his smooth, tanned chest, seeing the compass points there and feeling my own pants tighten as Amy moved on from the belt to the buttons beneath. I slid my hands along her body, maneuvering myself behind her and quickly removing her simpler pants as she crossed the last hurdle and dipped her small hands into his wide black elastic waistband. Her own pants fell, revealing a strip of scarlet cloth that dived neatly between her round buttocks and down to where it met her now sopping-wet lips. I reached under her, satisfied to notice her excitement and the way that she shifted slightly to widen for my hand, and fixed my gaze on the stranger's crotch as her hands came up with the prize.

The cock she pulled out with one hand while she pushed down the pants and underwear as a single unit with the other was, for lack of a better word, perfect. It was still at that stage just south of full erection where it looks larger than life, resting full yet flexible in her dwarfed palm, thick veins pulsing with each heartbeat as she worked her hand around it, fingers opening and closing, taking in every inch they can reach. the tip swelled and receded, peeking out a little further each time from the uncut foreskin that rolled effortlessly back without help. I could smell it, and knew without having to use my tongue what the pearly bead that hung from the small hole at the tip would taste like. When his pants fell, her free hand swung back to my own familiar crotch for a moment to caress me and invite me to join them before she brought it forward again to cup his balls, huge and pulled tight up against his crotch in excitement, working the both with his hands as he grabbed her head and neck again and thrust his tongue into her open mouth. I fumbled with my pants as she began to dip slowly downwards, her tongue running along his chest and belly as she made the not-too-far trip down to her knees. I let my own dick, smaller without having to be small itself, and by now full and stiff without help, free from my damp jeans she wrapped her soft lips around his dick for the first moment. I saw her mouth fill with him, her cheek deform slightly as his penis pushed its way back among her teeth, and I placed my hands on his surging chest as I walked up and took my place beside him. She spared a hand for the base of my own cock, and I leaned forward to caress both her back and his thighs while she made soft sucking noises and frothy, silky spit began to flow down her chin.

An intense feeling of relief washed over me as she pulled her head off of his penis and wrapped it around my own. I could feel my muscles loosen as her warm tongue felt for the ridge of my head, and I wiped her dripping chin with my palm before reaching over and placing it on his still-wet cock. I noted with satisfaction the soft sound he made as I let my hand slide over the firm, warm shaft with the familiarity that only a man has for his own cock and the satisfaction that comes from serious lubrication. After staring at my work for a moment, he looked at me and caught my eye, and then grinned and placed a firm hand on the back of my head. He placed the other on Amy's hair, and, pulling her off my cock, eased the both of us down towards his crotch.

I don't think I've ever felt the same weakness in my thighs as I did at that moment, when, looking across my tongue running along the ridges and veins of this wide and salty staff I caught the fire in Amy's eyes, her anticipation as she watched that big head stretch out my lips before pulling it towards her own. Before long we were working in tandem, each running their tongue around the deep channel behind his foreskin while the other craned forward to caress and lick clean his balls, one at a time, placing each in our mouth before popping it out for the other. We could feel the pressure building when he suddenly and firmly pulled us both away, grabbing us each under an arm and pulling us to our feet. Her he spun around, carelessly tugging her thong off. Me he pulled up beside himself, and as he shoved Amy's upper half forwards towards the bed, tentatively poking with his hips for a moment before thrusting forward firmly and pulling a shriek from her tiny lips, wrapped his big hand around my cock, stroking firmly, using the moisture of my own excitement to pull me closer to climax as he leaned over and kissed his own juices from my tongue. We carried on like this for a moment before I felt Amy's groping hands work their way underneath his, pulling my penis close to her face and caressing it carefully before resuming where she had left off with her tongue before being so rudely interrupted. I didn't mind her understandable distraction as she writhed her lithe back full of his cock, and he caught my eyes and reached forward to fondle my chest as I leaned in and easily unsnapped Amy's bra, spilling out pale breast along my open palms. I let the movement of his thrusting rub her raisin-hard nipples along my palm, squeezing every so often and enjoying the sensation of her mouth and hand along my cock.

We both could sense as the tenor of the stranger's grunting changed and Amy craned her head to see as he pulled his perfect, dripping cock from her depths. She flipped over and landed her soft ass on the bed just in time for a cascade of thin, wet semen, the kind that comes out in veritable buckets when you have the sex you've been dreaming of for a week, issued forth from his penis and landed squarely on her chin, dripping down to the space between her breasts. greedily I leaned in, and taking place between her legs, licked her from the base of her neck right up the middle to her mouth, joining the semen with her tongue in a kiss that left us connected by a silvery strand as I leaned back and slid my own cock deep inside her. He hopped up on the bed, and between the feeling of her soft lips drenched with both their juices and the sight of her messy face sliding forward and back on his dripping cock before I too pulled back and let my own semen join with his on her chest. We both spent a moment with our hands on one another's bodies, breathing softly, before he grabbed a folded towel from an open shelf, wiped his cock, and walked over to his pants. The two of us simply flopped on our messy bedspread and watched as he strapped on everything we had so hungrily removed and strode to the door. He turned back with a smile, gave a little wave, and stepped in to the hallway. At the last moment, when the door's latch had just about clicked, he kicked his heel back and peeked his head back in.

"I think there's a delivery guy here for you."

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