Danie's New Gig Pt. 02

Kev stepped sideways, veering past passers-by and grabbing the door handle of an inconspicuous café wedged between an old-timey bookstore and an empty apartment building. The glass door swung open, and Kev glanced at Danie expectantly.

'This the place?' Danie asked. 'The...femboy café?'

'The one and only--as far as I know, and I know a lot about this kind of stuff.' He wore a know-it-all grin, eyebrows raised high, and lips pulled to his ears.

A bolt of doubt hit Danie, but the warmth emanating from the quaint-looking coffee place drew him in. 'You're disgusting sometimes, do you know that?'

'I'm well aware,' Kev muttered, closing the door behind them.

The smell of freshly ground beans intensified, and low-hanging ceiling lights bathed the seating area in a comfortable, somewhat orange hue. To the left, wall-mounted diner-esque tables and benches offered plenty of space for groups. At the same time, the right harboured smaller tables, round and radiantly silver, each encompassed by wooden, leather-padded stools without backrests.

Danie took a deep breath, swiping his gaze across the entire place. 'I didn't...I expected it to look different. I don't know, with a different vibe, a different aesthetic. Doesn't seem like the kind of place you go to to stare at boys in skirts.' He produced a tissue from the side pocket of his flight jacket.

Kev lifted his gimme cap, drove his fingers through his hair, and put it back onto his head--backwards. 'It sure is, babe. Now, on you go, the woman's waiting for you.' He pointed straight ahead toward the counter, past the tables and benches. 'Her name's Rhea, FYI. See you later, yeah? My place?'

Releasing the breath he sucked in to blow his nose, Danie turned to Kev. '--wait, what? You're leaving?'

'You don't need me here; just talk to Rhea. She runs the place. Not the owner, though--never met that guy. Have fun, girl,' he said, turning on his heel and vanishing into the chill January air.

When Danie looked back toward the apparent not-owner, she shot him a devious grin--ten times more intimidating than whatever Kev could ever conjure up. He blew his nose, tucked the tissue away and strolled up. 'Rhea, is it?' he asked. 'Hi, I'm Danie. I believe Kev told you about why I'm here?'

'He sure did, boy toy,' she answered, smiling, both hands firmly on the worktop, leaning forward.

Danie flustered. The heat in his cheeks rose, and his eyes widened for a second. Trying to talk over the awkwardness, he said, 'Boy toy? Guess it's pretty clear what this...position is about, huh?'

She snorted. 'I'm just tickling your ribs, Danie.' Just like Kev, she towered over him--and not just that, she also eclipsed him with her stature: lean but well-built, a colloquial 'Muscle Mommy' if Danie ever saw one. Furthermore, in contrast to what he'd believed, her abs--visible through a thin white tank top--didn't take away from her breasts. 'Still with me, boy?'

The temperature rose again. 'Uh, yeah! Yes. I'm present. So...is there some interview process, or do you want me to whip up a latte and serve it to you?'

Her eyes lingered on his, gaze locked. Then, the corners of her mouth curled upwards, and she gestured to the counter's far end. 'How about you come over to this side and have a gander? Ever worked in a café before?'

Silently admiring her short, styled, auburn hair, he followed suit. 'Sure have, and I bring a caffeine addiction to boot--so you know I know how to brew something good. By the way, uh...'

'Yeah?'

'Shouldn't there be customers here, this time of day? It's early Wednesday, after all.'

With her thumbs slipped into the waistband of her jeans, she said, 'Oh, didn't Kev mention it? We're only open late-night.'

'A late-night café? That's sustainable?'

'If you know who you're catering to, you bet.'

Having made his way to the other side, Danie gave the establishment another sweeping glance--not an unfamiliar view. He also spied clear canisters of coffee beans, stacks of filters, pots, and mugs lined behind and underneath the counter. 'So, what's it going to be--?'

Without a word or effort, Rhea hopped to the other side and took a few steps back, keeping her eyes fixed on the boy. Every time her mouth curled up, her eyes smiled even brighter, and she appeared to like what she saw. 'Now, I can't get the picture I want until you change your boring clothes for something more fitting.' She pointed to a door on the left. 'Through there, then the first door on the right. Pick a size you fit--everything's clean, don't worry.'

Hiding his disappointment at not being offered a cup himself, he nodded and walked through the first and second doors.

The small cabin housed clothing hooks on the left and right, a few close-lidded boxes stacked in a corner, benches with metal railings underneath and gleaming black loafers seated on those railings. Only one mantel--probably Rhea's--hung on a hook, and at the far end, Danie discovered several neatly folded and stacked uniforms ready to be donned.

'Huh,' he muttered, feeling the soft black fabric between his fingertips. 'Wouldn't have expected these to look so conservative.' He unfolded one, holding it high and scrutinising it. 'Simple, black-and-white, little laces; the most outrageous element is the choker. And the stockings, I guess. Tame.'

Rather content with what he found, he started disrobing. He hung up his jacket with one hook's distance to Rhea's, pulled his grey sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath over his back, and unbuckled his belt--letting gravity pull down the oversized light-blue jeans.

Then, the door flew open. 'How's it--'

Caught off-guard, Danie didn't lift his foot enough to step out of the bunched-up jeans. He got tangled, moved an inch instead of a metre, and lost his balance. As he was about to fall over, two strong hands grasped his upper arms and steadied him.

'Woopsie,' Rhea laughed. 'Took you by surprise, didn't I?' She held him for another moment, giving him a once-over with her dark brown eyes.

Danie almost choked on his saliva. '...'

'Sorry, thought you'd be dressed by now,' she added. 'Well--I'll be waiting outside, then.' With that, she stepped back out and closed the door.

Gobsmacked, Danie remained silent for a second. Rhea's body heat lingered where she'd clasped his arms, and he wondered whether she behaved like this with everyone. When the shock wore off, he slipped off the jeans and his anklets--leaving him in a pair of black boxers--and dumped everything onto the bench.

All that done, Danie slid his ladylike feet into the white stockings. They reached up to his smooth thighs, the final stretch to his crotch and up covered by the black dress-like garment which made up the bulk of the outfit. It sported short sleeves with white, buttoned hems, a black shirt collar, and just enough fabric to avoid accidental flashes even when he moved--though he'd have to refrain from somersaulting. 'Comfortable, though,' he murmured, finishing the ensemble with the choker and a pair of loafers. 'Boxers are a total disaster with this, though.'

Missing a mirror, Danie pulled his phone from his heap of clothes, opened the front-facing camera and inspected himself. He plucked at the short strands of his slightly spikey hair, smothered a slick thumb over his eyebrows and mimed a timid smile.

It knocked. 'How's it looking in there, Danie? Did you find a good fit?'

Instead of answering, he twisted the knob and opened the door--bringing the purpose of all this back into his mind: getting a job. He struck a pose, legs and back straight, butt slightly stuck out, endearingly folding his hands in front of his crotch. 'You're the judge.'

She crossed her arms and studied him head to toe. 'No complaints here,' she said with innuendo. 'And I don't think the regulars will differ. Now,' she continued, gesturing for him to head back toward the workspace with an outstretched lower arm, 'let's see it in the proper setting.' Her hand held a white half-apron.

Danie strolled past her, grabbing and slinging the apron across his torso, tying a beautiful bow, and getting accustomed to her steamy personality when he noticed how little distance she kept. He fastened his pace, bending the corner.

She kept up.

Spurred by her pursuit, he stopped at the espresso machine halfway across. 'So,' he said, stretching his collar and swallowing hard, 'can I make you something?' His throat tightened when he glanced back, her chest an inch from his face.

'Actually, let's talk a wee bit, huh?' she asked, chirpy.

'What about?' he stammered.

She put a hand on the counter to their left, strafing his arm. 'For one, do you have any questions? You know, I take good care of the boys that work here. Team of four, if you decide to join.'

The thought of backing off graced his mind, but his feet were rooted to the hardwood floor. 'Good care? Like, have their backs when a creep comes onto them?' He forced a chuckle.

'A creep?' she repeated. 'Maybe they just want to get a little closer, build up a little connection?' She leaned in, her hot breath tingling his ear. 'Maybe they're just a little touch-starved?'

Having no say in the matter, arousal glossed over his brain. His hands became clammy, and his pulse rose. His nose almost touched her bosom. Trying to avoid that, he looked up and smiled bashfully. 'Probs the best tippers, right?'

'Certainly an easy way to earn some extra,' she said, slinging her other arm around his body and pinning him against the counter. The tabletop pressed against his lower back, her half-lidded eyes stared him down, and she jammed her right leg in between his thighs.

He wiggled onto his tiptoes, back arched to build up distance. His loins burnt and he considered just giving in, but the situation felt wrong, off. 'You know--' he stuttered, his lower lip quivering. 'I--'

Her body adapted to his with every move, wringing closer, breathing heavier, leaning in. 'Don't tell me,' she whispered, 'you aren't into girls, boy.' She batted her long black lashes. 'Or should I just...' Her hand slid down his thin stomach to the skirt's hem. Her fingers prod his inner thighs. Backhanded, her knuckles nudged his bulge.

That short, soft touch sent a shiver down his fingers. Stifling a helpless moan, he raised his arms and pushed Rhea.

His palms connected with her shoulders--hard and solid. What little energy he could muster in his hapless state, she didn't move an inch. Instead, a smile fostered on her minxish features. 'Not bad,' she giggled. 'But not all too good, either, though.'

'Wha--what?'

'Got you all riled up, didn't I? Are you into girls? Or is it my build, maybe?' She stepped back--giving Danie room to breathe--and flexed her biceps, admiring it.

'I'm, eh, into both. This was a bit...tense, though. Bit awkward.'

Vis-à-vis, she lifted her rear onto the worktop and shrugged. 'Might get even more awkward, you know? Not with me, mind you, and not with most regulars, either. Can't sort out every creep that might drop by, though. So, you'll have to stop being so timid. Push 'em off, tell them your mind. Yeah?'

'That means...you're hiring me?' he asked.

She formed a frame with her fingers, encircling him. 'How could I reject a cutie like that?'

Regaining his composure, he took the compliment in stride. He smiled and said, 'Alright, then I'll gladly start working here--and start being a wee bit more inclined to say my mind, I guess.'

'Perfect! Though, if you do find a charming regular with deep pockets, know I wasn't lying about the tips.'