Peeping Paul

After a long day of running errands in the humid Georgia heat, you had one last stop to make before heading home. You pulled into the parking lot of Target, dreading having to get out of your pleasantly cool car. The heat index had to have been well over 100 degrees, and let's be honest, heat like that takes a lot out of an old man like you. Reluctantly, you turn the ignition off and pop the car door open. Instantly, the heat hits your face, causing your cheeks to flush a deep shade of blood red.

As the automatic doors open, you feel a rush of cool air over your whole body, giving you goosebumps and sending a pleasurable shiver rushing down your spine.

I wish they had just kept the old cafe here that they used to have instead of adding another damn Starbucks to this town. I hate coffee. Shit's way to god damn overpriced there anyways. I wouldn't drink that shit if my bastard life depended on it, you think to yourself, making no attempt to keep your eyes from rolling.

Glancing over to survey the Starbucks lobby so you can quietly judge the people brainwashed by the popularity of the communist coffee company, you stop dead in your tracks. The lobby is empty, except for one of the baristas, who is bending over, picking up the straw papers and napkins that people have let fall to the floor and left. Watching her, unable to peel your eyes away, you trace the shape of her booty with your eyes, committing it to memory.

Don't see a nice ass like that everyday.

She stands up with a heavy sigh, letting out a small, frustrated "ugh" as she composes herself. Even though she's wearing a hat, you can see her beautiful chocolate brown curls, secured tightly in a ponytail pulled through the back of her hat, cascading down her neck and resting at the top of her shoulders.

You feel a twitch in your shorts, becoming consciously aware of your heartbeat, drumming loudly in your ears. Fuck! Why'd she have to have curls?!

The barista notices you standing there and smiles at you. "Can I help you with anything?" she asks as she comes back around the counter. As she walks toward you, you try not to be obvious as you admire her legs and her chest. The way her apron sits perfectly perched atop her breasts, which are the perfect size for suckling on. The way her jeans hug every curve of her long, strong legs and her shapely ass.

"My niece just wanted me to see if y'all had something," you stammer, searching for any excuse to linger for just a moment longer. "Something about color-changing cups..."

The barista is unable to control the eye roll. "I'm sorry," she says with true sincerity, surprising considering the extreme eye roll that happened only a split second before. "We're sold out, and we probably won't get any more this summer."

You nod. "That's okay. I just told her I'd ask."

The barista smiles at you again. You look for a nametag, but she doesn't have one on. "Can I make you a drink?" she asks, bringing your eyes back up to hers.

"Naw, I hate coffee."

"We have other drinks besides coffee," she retorts with sass. "It's hot outside. Heck, it's hot in here. Water is free if you want some."

She's right. She's hot... No! It's hot. You shake your head a little, trying to keep your mind from drifting. The barista turns and begins to talk back behind the counter. "I'll be here til 5 if you change your mind," she flaunts.

Is she flirting with me? Surely not. Although... she must be a little actress, pulling off that sincere apology when I know she felt like screaming.

*

*

*

Jeez, man, get your shit together. She can't be older than 20. She doesn't want some old dinosaur like you. A beautiful girl like that is probably already taken anyways.

Remembering why you came into the store in the first place, you turn and make your way to the men's department. As you half heartedly search for your items, you can't get that barista out of your head. Her smile, her attitude, her name... You need to know her name.

You walk briskly back to the Starbucks and place yourself at the end of the line that has formed in the last 5 minutes. Irritated that everyone ahead of you is receiving smiles and attention from the girl that you so suddenly crave, you try to wait patiently to be the next person she lays eyes on.

Finally, you're standing at the register. She smiles at you sweetly. "Back to get that water?" she asks, with a twinge of teasing in her voice.

You smirk. "Yeah, you're right, it's hot."

"What's your name?" she asks, locking eyes with yours.

"Paul."

She scribbles your name on your cup with her Sharpie before she turns to make your water herself, even though there is still a line of people waiting to have their orders taken.

"What's your name?" you ask as she hands you the cup with a straw.

Leaning over the counter, she quietly whispers back, "You can call me whatever you like."

She straightens back up. "Have a great evening!" she chimes as she rushes away, already greeting the next customer in line.

You leave the store, no longer concerned that you didn't get what you came for. As you get in your car and crank the AC on full blast, you peel back the straw wrapper and force it into the icy water. You take several long gulps, feeling the coolness rush down your throat and into your stomach. This is damn good water.

That's when you notice that there is something else written on the cup beneath your name. Ten numbers and a smiley face.

No fucking way. Her number?!

You pull out your phone and dial the number. But you can't call her. She's working. You open a new text.

"Hey Curls. It's Paul."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

*ding*

Your phone lights up with a new text notification.

"Curls... I like that! ;)"

She really texted you back... FUCK!

"Come over. Here's my address."

FUCK! FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK!!

- - - - - - - - - - - -

45 minutes later, you're at her door. You knock and she answers almost immediately.

"Hey, Paul," she says, playfully biting her lip. "C'mon."

She grabs you by your wrist, leading you into her house and upstairs to her bedroom. She closes and locks the door behind you. Her room is cool, lit only by the light filtering through the windows on either side of her bed. It smells like mango and vanilla. Her queen size bed takes up the middle of the room. It's messy and unmade, but you want to lay in it so badly because you know it smells like her. You know she's laid there, slept there, and maybe even touched herself while she laid between those wrinkled sheets.

"Take your clothes off," she whispers from behind you, causing you to jump ever so slightly.

"What's your name?" you beg, as you rip your shirt off over your head.

She pauses for a moment, looking at you with her chocolate brown eyes, searching your face. She tilts her head slowly to the side, causing her curls, which have been released from their pony tail restraint, to bounce and surround her round face. "My name is Curls, of course," she teases as she slips her fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

Your cock throbs, excited that her hands are so close. You take a rigid breath as she unbuttons and unzips your shorts, leaving her fingers lingering just a little too long after she's got them undone. She looks back up at you, so sweet and innocent. You feel your cock jump a little as a devilish grin slides across her face.

She drops to her knees, eager to please you. You want to argue and make her stand up and kiss you, but her lips reach your hard cock so fast that there's no time to stop her. She starts with just the head, sucking and flicking it with her tongue. Reaching up, she wraps her hand around the base of your cock, squeezing just a little to make you fully erect. Gradually taking more and more of you into her mouth, she begins to moan with every stroke. You let your head fall back and close your eyes as a moan escapes your lips. She responds, finally taking you all the way to the back of her throat. Her face pressed to your lower abdomen, she grabs your balls and begins massaging them as she begins to slide her perfect lips up and down your cock, raising the tempo with every stroke.

"Oh baby, that feels so good," you moan as you edge closer and closer to cumming. "Do you swallow?" you ask as she slides the full length of your cock into her mouth once more, pressing her face into your belly.

"Mhmm," she moans without bothering to take your cock out of her mouth. The vibrations from her response feel so good on the tip of your penis.

"Do that again, Curls," you beg, grabbing a handful of her hair so that you can see her face, her mouth filled with your cock.

Looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes, she wiggles down to the base of your cock.

"MMMMMM HMMMMMMMMMMM," she moans as the cum begins to spurt out of your erection and down her throat. She pulls back, leaving only the head in her mouth, and sucks the rest of the sperm out of your dick. She rolls your ejaculate around on her tongue for a moment before swallowing and returning to her feet.

You open your mouth to thank her. That's the last thing you were ever expecting to happen tonight. But she quickly quiets you, laying a single finger across your quivering lips.

"Lay off the Chinese food, Paul," she teases as she pulls your underwear and shorts back up for you. "Call me tomorrow."