Solitary Cafe: Cappuccino

Martin chuckled, "That's true."

The cafe owner placed the glasses in the sink and went about washing them, "So, what do you think? Option three?"

The man blinked, almost forgetting why they were doing the tasting in the first place, "Oh, I..." he frowned, "I'm not sure you could really..."

"Let's focus on that later," she cut him off gently as she hand washed the espresso glasses. "Give me your honest opinion: which of these three espressos would make the best cappuccino?"

The answer came with a subtle conviction that was completely outside of his own mind, "I daresay the one I roasted myself, but..."

"Ah, ah, not buts," Megara set the glasses up on a drying rack and wiped her hands on a nearby towel. "I agree with you, which is why I'm so keen on hiring you on as a full time roaster."

Martin startled, "I'm sorry?"

The blonde tousled her immaculate hair and laughed, "You heard me right; I want to hire you to roast coffee for me. We can talk about the details later, for now, why don't you let me make you a drink while you think about it. You're a cappuccino man like your father, aren't you?"

The suicidal man was so stunned that he didn't know how to respond. There were so many things he wanted to tell the woman, not the least of which being that he'd sold all of his assets and had nothing left to roast coffee with. Even so, the woman was so confident and unflappable in her cheerfulness and surety that he would have marched into hell for her if she'd told him that she had a plan to take it over. "Yes... I do enjoy cappuccinos," he croaked dryly.

"Wonderful! I have just enough of this coffee left; I'm not worried about using it up because I know you can make more," she grinned as she grabbed a steaming pitcher.

But I can't make more! He wanted to scream in protest. It seemed like she was expecting him to do the impossible, and though he hated the idea of disappointing the woman, he couldn't stand by any more and allow her to continue to build her expectation of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but that was the moment that the woman began to unbutton her shirt.

"I'm so glad I was able to find you before you became unavailable," Megara told him as she undid the second button on her blouse. "Let me tell you, you didn't make it easy!" She laughed as she undid the third button on her blouse.

Martin's hands fell to his side as he panicked inwardly, "M,miss... um... Megara, is it? I... you... um..."

The blonde glanced at him as she undid the fourth button and exposed the majority of her cleavage, "Hm? Oh, don't be alarmed, Martin, we put a little of ourselves into every drink we make."

Martin didn't know whether or not he should laugh or cry. This is it, he thought as the woman undid yet another button. It was clear to see that she wasn't wearing a bra beneath her blouse, and the soft, olive skin of her cleavage dipped further down than he would have ever imagined. I've finally lost my mind.

"I don't want to obligate you," Megara continued on normally as she reached the fourth from the last button on her blouse. Her cleavage was now completely exposed, and her large breasts nearly spilled from her open shirt as she took up the pitcher and leveled it to her chest. "It's just that I get so excited about these things that I forget that I can come across as pushy sometimes."

Martin's alarm turned to a cold shock as the woman swept away the left side of her blouse and exposed herself. He couldn't keep himself from staring: Megara was absolutely stunning. Her breasts weren't just big; they were perfectly shaped and incredibly soft looking, and he almost died on the spot when she brought her free hand to her nipple and began to pinch it gently.

"I already have a facility that's chock full of equipment," Megara looked down into the pitcher and massaged her nipple, pulling it gently until a single drop of white liquid dripped out. "I'm just looking for someone to manage it."

Martin was scared. He wanted to tear his eyes away, but he simply couldn't stop staring at his host's nipple. It was dark and plump, and every time the woman squeezed it, just a little more breast milk would eke out and drip into the pitcher.

"Oh, geez," Megara chuckled as she expressed herself, "It's been too long since I worked the front counter; things aren't going as smoothly as they usually do." She began to massage both of her breasts evenly, pulling her blouse away on both sides. Her smooth palms moved over her soft skin as she pressed downward gently. Afterwards, she held one breast in her hand while she massaged it with the other, her fingers pushing down deliberately, "I apologize; it usually doesn't take me this long to... oh!" She giggled as a thin stream of milk shot out of her nipple and nearly missed the edge of the pitcher, "There we go! Now for the other; come now... don't be difficult..." she looked down at her opposite breast as she began to massage it in the same manner.

Martin swallowed hard as he began to feel a distant yet familiar sensation in his loins. It had been such a long time since he'd had the gumption to even admire a passing woman, let alone masturbate, but it seemed that his body wasn't feeling nearly as celibate as his mind was. Another soft trickle streamed from the woman, and he could actually feel his blood pressure going up by the second.

"Now we're in business," the tall blonde grinned happily and went to work on one of her nipples once more, this time rolling and squeezing it at the same time.

The coffee roaster wondered for a brief moment if his host would actually be able to fill the pitcher with enough milk, but his thoughts were definitively shut up when another, thicker stream of milk dripped heavily out of the woman.

"Now, I understand that the nature of our cafe is just as peculiar as the way we make beverages," Megara continued to express herself, and with every squeeze her milk flow seemed to increase. "So I won't be offended if you decide to decline. Don't get me wrong, I'll be disappointed, but I have no intention of obligating you. There are many people in the world who won't understand the kind of work we do here, or agree with it, but we cater to a very select clientele."

"I...would imagine so," Martin replied weakly as he looked up at the woman's face. Though it was the strangest situation he'd ever found himself in, it was undeniably the most erotic, but the thing that intrigued him the most was Megara's facial expression. She clearly loved what she was doing, and it was obvious that her work meant more to her than just her livelihood.

Megara smiled widely as she pinched her nipple for at least the dozenth time. Three separate lines of milk nearly exploded from her fat nipple, and she laughed as she got a little on the counter, "Excuse our technical difficulties; I'll have your cappucino shortly."

"Take your time," Martin couldn't believe what he was saying, given the circumstance, but there was something so casual about the woman's attitude that he was almost starting to feel comfortable.

The blonde switched to her other breast and began to milk it a little more roughly. Her milk was coming in bright white streams, and the force behind it was beginning to grow along with the volume, "Humans are made of mostly water, and all we're really doing here is redistributing it. All of my girls are special, and they put love and care and I daresay a small piece of their own soul into every drink they make. It's simply liquid love in a cup," Megara sighed and smiled softly as she tugged hard on her nipple, drawing out a controlled autostream. "I know it sounds crazy, but if we can change even one person's life for the better, then this entire undertaking will have been worth it. I am of the firm belief that even something as simple as a drink can alter the course of someone's life, and I strive to make the best, most personalized drinks in the world."

An odd feeling came over the man as Megara reached the half full mark in the pitcher. As she set the container down on the counter and took hold of both of her nipples, Martin felt the strangest combination of guilt and inspiration. He wondered where along the line he'd lost sight, and how he'd become so selfish and self absorbed that he'd managed to forget why he'd gone into the industry to begin with.

"The smile and the shock when people take that first drink..." Megara pulled on both of her nipples at the same time and leaned forward slightly. Her creamy breast milk poured from her generously, dripping and leaking and eking out of every part of her nipple. Her flow was so heavy that the droplets could be heard echoing throughout the pitcher, and she took a deep breath as she re-positioned her fingers and squeezed her dark areolas. "The look on their face when they realize that life isn't as complicated as they've made it out to be and they allow themselves the basic pleasure of just enjoying something simply for the sake of it: that's what I live for."

"I understand..." Martin said under his breath, "I used to live for that, too..."

Megara grabbed up handfuls of both of her breasts and pressed them together. Keeping pressure on them, she leaned forward even further and squeezed her peaks roughly, and both of her nipples began to spray copiously.

Tss, tss, tss... A bright, sharp bubbling sound met Martin's ears as Megara's liquid love squirted down into the nearly full pitcher. A few droplets of milk jumped out of the container and fell upon the counter, but Megara didn't seem to notice as she lowered both of her breasts towards it and practically stuffed her nipples into it.

I... I don't want to die...

Tss... tss... Dark, delicious looking nipples sprayed a seemingly endless supply of milk.

This can't be the end, not yet... not when there's so much left that I have to do...

Feminine fingers teased out a few more drops as the pitcher was filled to the brim, then Martin heard the sexiest, most sincere sound of satisfaction that had ever met his ears.

Megara giggled.

"Oh, I guess I went a little overboard; this should be plenty," The woman straightened up and shook her hair. Her full breasts bounced as they continued to drip, and she did nothing to stop them as she moved towards the espresso machine.

Whirr...buzz...

Martin was lost in his own thoughts as the gentle yet pervasive sound of the coffee grinder met his ears. The smell followed immediately after, and though he still had an erection his thoughts were far from sexual.

Megara's smile never waved as she pulled shots of espresso. Afterwards, she lifted the pitcher to the steamer and began to steam her own breast milk.

I've got to live, no matter what... I've got to find a way...

A few minutes passed as the jazz played, and the eyes of a hundred various rubber ducks stared at the thinking coffee roaster as he contemplated his purpose. Some of them wore outfits, others were classically shaped and designed, but all of them wore smiles and expressions of pure gentility.

"Cappuccino on the bar for Martin."

"Ah... thank... you." Martin broke out of his daze as he looked up at his host. She'd buttoned up somewhere along the line, but her gentle smile was still there.

The man looked down at the wide cappuccino cup and blinked. The texture and layering of the foam appeared to be perfect, and a cheerful, impressively detailed foam rubber duck had been etched into the middle of the cup.

He didn't know why he was nervous, but his hands began to tremble as he took up the cup. The smell was too familiar and comforting, and he was having a difficult time accepting that any of it was real. It was the sort of feeling a person got when they were faced with a ghost that they thought was long buried, but Martin wasn't about to let such an immaculately perfect cappuccino go to waste simply out of fear.

He took a sip and set the cup down, "Damn."

Megara was cleaning the coffee equipment, and she turned and cocked her head, "Something wrong?"

The man wasn't surprised that it was the best drink he'd ever tasted. The silky smooth texture, the robustness of his childhood espresso, the subtle, satisfying sweetness of the woman's breastmilk. No drink could possibly be better, and he realized it with immediate conviction. "No... nothing's wrong. It's perfect. Absolutely and completely perfect."

The tall blonde blushed ever so slightly as she nodded, "I'm so glad! It's an absolute pleasure to serve you, and I hope to make you another sometime...assuming you're around."

There was something about the way she'd finished the sentence that caught him off guard. There was nothing judgemental about the woman's comment, but there had certainly been something sad about it, and Martin realized that she knew the truth. Somehow, though she couldn't possibly know his reasons for being in the forest, she did, and he felt a heaviness fall upon him that was both wonderful and burdensome. It was a hard thing, caring about the existence of another, but for most people, and arguably every person, that was all it took to give a person a reason to live.

He lifted his cup and took another sip, then set it down once more and nodded, "I would enjoy that. Also, I think..." he took a deep breath, "If any of this is real and I'm not just hallucinating, I'd be interested in your job offer."

Megara clapped once excitedly before she pulled a small piece of paper from her slightly damp breast pocket, "Here's my contact info. I'll need a few days to set some things up, but you should call me on Friday."

Martin took the paper slowly and chuckled: it was yet another reason to live, mundane as it was. He had an appointment that was several days out, and though it was a small thing, it seemed to be exactly what he needed, "Great... I'll call you on Friday."

"Awesome!" Megara lowered her voice, "I'm so excited. For now, feel free to enjoy the cafe for as long as you'd like."

Martin smiled and nodded while he took another sip. Several minutes passed as the drink dwindled, and he finished the last swig, foam and all, before standing.

All the while, the tall woman busied herself behind the counter, and when she saw the man go for his wallet she put out her hand, "Oh no, please, it's on me. I insist,"she added with a gentle nod.

"Thank you," Martin replied pensively. For some reason, he felt like he needed to go. Suddenly, there was so much that he had to prepare for, and the last thing he wanted to do was sit around idly. He walked towards the door and placed his hand on the handle, but Megara called behind him before he could open it.

"Be safe out there, Martin, and watch the traffic!"

"Traffic?" The roaster murmured to himself in confusion. He didn't want to disagree with the woman, so he simply waved and pushed the door handle down. As the door opened, he remembered where he was and how long of a trek he had to get back home. It would be at least three our four hours until he hit a trail that led back down the mountain, and there was a high chance that...

Martin froze as he heard the honking of a car horn. It took a full five seconds of staring for him to realize where he was, and even then, his brain hardly refused to believe it: he'd was standing in front of a sidewalk in front of a busy one way street in downtown Portland.

He looked back at Megara, halfway expecting both the cafe and the woman to be gone, but the blonde was there, along with her odd yet endearing collection of rubber ducks.

Megara lifted her index to her lips with a secretive smile, "Bye Martin," she mouthed with a small wave.

The roaster exhaled sharply as he tried to wrap his mind around the impossible. Clearly, there was far more to the woman and her strange cafe than met the eye, but he had no desire to question it further. He had purpose, after all, and purpose very often won out over logic and reason.

He nodded cordially and closed the door before stepping out onto the curb. Afterwards, Martin immediately reached into his pocket to see if he still had the woman's contact information, and sure enough, it was there; her dainty, unmistakably feminine handwriting.

"I'm ready," he said quietly to himself as he looked up at a row of food trucks. His stomach growled suddenly and he laughed, "I guess you weren't expecting a return trip, were you?"

As the cafe door was closed, Megara continued to smile. She began to hum softly as she polished the bar, and she stopped when her eyes fell upon a rubber duck that was wearing a wizard hat.

"Hm? Oh, don't worry about him, Quackdalf; he's going to be just fine," she giggled.