This story contains graphic sexual scenes between males. If material of this nature offends you then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
Mocha Cooler (Barista Series #3) By David Tengler, 2008
Mocha Cooler
I was at my usual coffee place -- business was hopping, and so was the internet. And, as they say, "on the internet no one knows you're not in a business suit." T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops are just fine -- and your clients don't need to know that underwear is optional, do they?
My usual stress-relieving barista friend had been out this week -- I guess he was on vacation. Just as well, I had too much going on to be distracted. On the other hand, it was a crazy week and I had been pretty tense.
I settled in with my tall iced redeye and checked the mail. After I got through the odd spam, I came across "We agree with your terms and look forward to doing business!"
That's it, the deal had gone through!
Things were good -- and -- success makes me horny. But, where was my barista friend? Unfortunately, not here.
On the other hand, there was another one. I think he'd just started a few weeks ago, and I'd just begin to notice. A Latino -- slender, with beautiful eyes, 5'10", just the right size of pecs pushing through his T-shirt, and beautiful hairy legs. (They'd kept the shorts dress-code going -- the employees were happier and so were the clients).
His name tag said "Gabriel" -- and he sure looked like an angel.
He noticed me looking at him and smiled -- "Having a good day, sir?" I said "Yes -- just got really good news on a deal!"
He smiled and, without saying anything, mixed my favorite iced coffee and brought it over to me. "On the house, sir -- anything else you'd like?"
My eyes were at his shorts' crotch level -- and I just smiled.
I'm guessing word had gotten around, because he just looked back and tilted his head towards the bathroom. He went back behind the bar and a few minutes later I was in the bathroom stall waiting.
Five minutes later I heard the door open and heard him come in -- I recognized him by his flip-flops (I have a thing for those so I know what kind everyone is wearing). A minute later I heard a gentle knock and I opened the stall.
As usual, nothing much had to be said. He pulled down my shorts roughly, pulled out his uncut mocha-colored uncut dick, slathered something slick from the kitchen on it and rammed it up my ass. I'm guessing word really had got around as to my preferences.
I heard some mumbling in Spanish: "Mi putico flaco, te doy lo que quieres! [my skinny little whore, I'm giving you what you want!]" and felt the pace picking up. Before I knew it I was pulsing my spunk into the toilet as he was spunking into my ass.
A little bit of cleanup and he was back to making lattes and I, although a bit messy, was back to doing business.
I do love my café!
(As usual, all comments welcome! David T.)