Carol's Coffee Shop

Carol stood in front of Brock, her hands lifted high above her head, rocking her hips back and forth, her head tilted skyward. Brock was waiting for Carol at the outskirts of the circle. His mug of winter celebration grog was steaming hot in the cold air. A cinnamon stick was swirling lazily around the edge of the mug. Brock reached out and unloosed her robe. It slid off her shoulders, but was held up by her breasts and her taut nipples. Carol did a slow shimmy and the gown slid down off her tits, past her hips, and grazing her thighs. Except for her mask, she was naked and available for him. She took his arm, and led him into a dark part of the surrounding trees. Over her shoulder she noticed Magus Grayson with his mouth in a firm line, disapproving of her actions.

The yule bonfire cast shadows into the woods that made everything seem darker and more mysterious. The air was a bit cooler here, but not uncomfortable despite being the first official day of winter. Whether the heat generated by the enormous bonfire had been aided by additional magic, Carol could not say. It was her first winter solstice celebration after all. Her mind was turned to her companion, a quiet, brooding, muscular man allowing himself to be led by the arm.

Carol felt some guilt being with Brock, but consoled herself with the idea that Jorie was probably rocking Derwin's world right now. Jorie had the reputation as a skilled and adventurous lover before she was married and had her four kids. There were rumors that she still enjoyed some exciting sexual play. If Carol were lucky, Derwin would pick up some ideas and tricks that he might bring back to their marriage bed.

Carol had no illusions that Brock would stay with her after tonight. He had his life in Chicago, his profession, his reputation. She had her cafe and her patrons here, and soon she would have Derwin. She removed her golden mask, and he gasped.

"You are still beautiful, Carol."

She undressed him slowly, kissing his shoulders, his biceps, and his palms as she removed his shirt. Then she nibbled his nipples as she removed his undershirt. His abdomen quivered with delight. She unloosened his belt and unzipped his jeans. His legs were still strong and the muscles well-defined. Sitting in an office designing buildings had not been his only occupation the past seven years.

He was ready. His penis strained against his undershorts. Carol knelt before him and edged his shorts down until his dick was bobbing eagerly about an inch from her face. His hands were on her shoulders, clutching them, betraying his eagerness. If he expected her to take him in her mouth, he would be disappointed. He didn't try to force the action, and Carol rose up before him. She raised her arms to embrace him, pulling his naked body into hers, and his mouth to her own. He was shaking with excitement and anticipation, but Carol held him close as she kissed him and explored his mouth. Soon his arms were pulling her closer to him and their legs were intertwined while standing. His hands found her fleshy ass and squeezed and released and squeezed again.

His breath was ragged and his chest heaved. She made him lie on his back while she stood over him. His eyes had changed from years before. Then, they had been demanding, hungry, exciting. Now, his eyes were tired, sad, and supplicating. He struggled to find his voice, finally not saying anything. A tear ran down the side of his cheek.

Then she lowered herself down upon him, fitting herself to his throbbing cock. She rocked gently back and forward, tilting her pelvis for greater contact. He was inside her. His penis was still large and dangerous, but she felt in control. Brock turned his head to the side, while she rode him, her arms lifted over her head.

She slowed down, waiting for his ejaculating response. He had been so exuberant the first times. Now, he was rather meek, rather resigned to the lovemaking. She began to think he might have a conscience after all.

She leaned forward, her face near his ear, her breasts grazing across his chest. "Are you feeling bad because of your brother, Derwin?"

He shook his head. "No. This was Derwin's idea. He thought you could help."

Carol snapped back, sat up straight. His response shocked her, and her first inclination was to jump off and run away. But neither she nor he had climaxed yet. His hormonal level might be suboptimal, but her own juices were flowing like a broken levy. She put his words and his tears out of her mind. She lay on him so that their bodies were touching in as many places as possible. He felt strong and warm. She pressed herself onto him and eventually, he wrapped his arms around her. They rocked together, rather gently. It wasn't fucking, like she had expected. It was lovemaking, tender, inclusive, touching, and ultimately exhausting. After several minutes of this intimacy, he came in an explosion of desire, just before she felt her own body tremble with tiny responses to his embrace. She came, too, shaking with exhausted muscles. He slid out of her, followed by his warm jazz, but they lay together.

Gentle snow began to fall lightly around them. Flakes melted when they touched his long blond eyelashes. Snow crystals formed a halo around Carol's brown hair. She felt the snow melting on her back, the back of her legs, and her ass, but she was not cold. Magus Grayson's magic was still powerful and kept them warm.

She and Brock stood up and gathered their clothing. She wrapped herself in her white gown and carried her golden mask. He took the time to dress completely.

"You're leaving again?"

He nodded. Of course he was. He didn't want to be trapped by her now after seven years of independence.

She took his hand and they walked back to the bonfire. It was dying and the falling snow sizzled as it drifted above the lowering flames. Before they got to the mansion, Brock took her in his arms again, and kissed her. She pressed herself against him, but she knew it was hopeless. After the kiss, he stood holding her.

"Hey, Carol!" Jorie waved to her, leading Derwin by the hand. He was disheveled but still wore clothing. Jorie was naked as a newborn and just as free from embarrassment. Brock ended his embrace of Carol, and stood next to her as they approached. He smiled approvingly when he saw Jorie, but refused her offered hug.

"Ready to go?" Derwin studied both his brother and Carol for their response. Brock lowered his head and took a step toward Derwin. He let the fingers of Carol's hand go one at a time as he left.

Carol took a deep breath. Neither brother seemed to want to talk with her, and certainly not to embrace her. Derwin had the same determined look he had worn earlier. She expected that they would have to have long, intense fight about this celebration night. She had a million questions and Derwin was the only brother she could expect would talk about his feelings, and maybe his brother's feelings.

Magus Grayson and the old crone, Baba Yomama, stood together inside the foyer, observing all that went on between the two couples. Grayson's eyes were squinted, perhaps from the wood smoke, perhaps from his anger. Baba Yomama shook occasionally with something like a chuckle. Carol turned to look at her directly in her old eyes. She met Carol's gaze, then shook her head and turned to hobble off on her cane.

"I want to leave, Jorie."

"But the best part is still coming up. There's dancing, feasting, spell-casting, fireworks! Oh, come on. Please stay."

Carol shook her head and started walking away, not waiting for Jorie to join her.

Carol couldn't sleep that night. She dressed early in her usual brown sweater with the v-neck and her hip-hugging jeans. The snow had stopped after dumping about four inches on the streets and sidewalks, so it took her longer to walk to the Cafe. When Carol showed up at the Cafe, her employees did not expect her. They were all wearing elf costumes.

"What? Didn't you trust us?"

"Of course I do. I'm not here to take over. I asked you all to take charge for the next few days, and I mean it. I just needed some place to land. I'll grab the table near the window."

On her way to her window table, she stopped to say hello to several tables of patrons.

"Where's the coffee pot, Carol? Where's the hug?" They laughed as she blushed, but didn't stop. She just wasn't in the mood for schmoozing with her customers this morning.

One other patron caught her attention, the old crone Baba Yomama. She sat agains the side wall the way she always did, covered in a mountain of sweaters, cloaks, and a coat. She stirred her tea slowly, but used the teaspoon to ring the rim of the teacup, trying to catch Carol's attention. Carol refused to look at her, and sat at her own table with her back to Baba. Baba cleared her throat and shuffled her feet, but Carol wouldn't look back at her.

Carol sat at her table observing with pleasure the efficiency and friendliness of her staff. They had learned well from her. She had nothing to be worried about for the next two weeks. The Christmas music was soothing after the wildness of the previous evening, and even "Santa Baby" failed to grate on her nerves.

Near ten o'clock, Carol was still in place. She really had nowhere else to go. The traffic in the cafe was still brisk. It wouldn't slow down until closer to eleven, then would pick up for the lunch crowd.

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" played over the speakers. When Carol heard the phrase, "Through the years we'll always be together," she scoffed. Nothing was less true than that sentiment, despite being wholly romantic. The shop bell rang. Derwin walked into the shop. He was alone, of course. His brother Brock was not with him. He stopped and looked around, finding Carol at her table.

Derwin paused, waiting for Carol to acknowledge him. She did even better, smiling and waving him over. She stood to embrace him when he reached the side of her station. It took a while, but Derwin finally hugged her back.

"Do you forgive me?"

Carol was surprised by Derwin's question. She let him sit down, then sat across from him.

"Of course I forgive you, Derwin. Do you forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Carol. I wanted you to try to use your magic on Brock."

Carol was confused and shook her head to clear it. Behind her, she heard the tinkling of Baba's teaspoon. She really had one question she had to ask, even if it were awkward with Derwin.

"Well, I understood that you might want to be with Jorie. I don't mind. But,where is Brock?"

Derwin's shoulders slumped. He hung his head. "I put him on a plane to Minnesota this morning. He wanted to go alone although I offered to accompany him."

"Minnesota? What's in Minnesota?"

"The Mayo Clinic is in Rochester, Minnesota. That's where he's going for the surgery."

"What surgery? What's going on, Derwin?"

Derwin sighed. "Brock has brain cancer, a very aggressive form. He's chosen to have brain surgery in an attempt to remove it. Depending on the amount of tumor they are able to remove, he'll have to make other decisions about chemo and other treatments."

"Oh, no! I never knew." Carol lifted her hands to her face. "Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"He wanted it kept quiet. But he hoped that you might be able to use your magic on him."

"What magic?" Carol was confused. "I don't have magic. If anything I could do would help your brother, you know I would do it. But I don't have any magic."

Behind Carol, Baba coughed and rang the tea cup.

"Would you be quiet back there, Baba! I'm talking to Derwin."

"Even if you wouldn't use your magic, I knew that my brother always treasured the time he spent with you. Especially that summer solstice seven years ago. Before he underwent his treatment, he always wanted to capture some of that time you and he enjoyed."

"But I'm engaged to you, Derwin."

"He's my brother, Carol. And he's dying. I understood his desire for you. Shoot, I've got the same desire. So do over half the men who visit this cafe. It was worth it for me to offer you to him. I hope you'll forgive me."

Carol was appalled at being offered to Derwin's brother, but in fact she had wanted to be with him herself. Would the reaction have been different if she had known he was dying? She wasn't sure.

Baba Yomama appeared at their table, a walking bundle of clothing. "I knew you had the magic, Carol. I was the one who told Derwin."

"Perhaps you should have told me, too, you old crone."

"I tried to when you came to me for a tarot reading. You wouldn't listen. Now, who know? Now, we've lost the opportunity to save Brock."

Baba said no more and walked out of the cafe. She slid a bit on the snowy sidewalks, helped by her cane.

"Carol, there was nothing more you could have done. His fate is not in your hands, but in the hands of God. His last wish was that I go through with marrying you. I just don't know if you will have me."

Carol stood and pulled him towards her. "I don't know what to think about everything. I loved your brother a long while ago. But I love you now. You made a selfless sacrifice last night. I can only imagine what it cost you to watch your brother walk away with me."

"Jorie helped me overcome my sorrow," he said with a sly smile.

"You know I'll always remember Brock. I'll try not to bring him to mind while we are in bed, but who knows?"

"I'll try not to think of Jorie."

At that, Carol had to laugh, although tears were streaming down her face. Overhead, the music played "Merry Christmas, Darling." She had hoped for "I'll Be Home for Christmas." It never came.