Untitled Coffee Shop Story

Connie paid the barista, grabbed the two mochas she ordered, and headed back to her seat. Elliot was waiting for her, all but sulking in his chair. He'd been in a gloomy mood for the past couple of days, and she knew why. She couldn't really blame him.

She reached out to hand him his mocha, but he wasn't paying attention. His neck was craned down, looking at his crotch as if it were missing a piece. Connie smirked to herself before clearing her throat. Elliot finally looked up at her.

"Sorry," he said, before taking his mocha. Connie slid into the seat across from him and adopted a mock frown. She felt a little bad for him, but only a little.

"Don't start that," he snapped, but there wasn't any venom in his words. Connie shrugged and took a sip of her mocha before shooting Elliot a wicked grin. "It can't be that bad." She saw his face darken in annoyance and delighted in teasing him.

"Maybe not for you," he said. "But my balls are the size of fucking grapefruits." She saw him raise an eyebrow, as a question broke through his sullen mood. "What do you get?" Connie looked confused and she waited for Elliot to explain. "What's the equivalent of blue balls for women?"

She considered his question for a moment. "Well," she began. "I've heard the term blue bean, but that sounds kinda' silly to me."

"Blue bean?" Elliot chuckled a joyless chuckle. "Really?"

She shrugged before quietly taking off one shoe and stretching out a foot beneath the table, massaging his balls. "My roommate in college called it pelvic congestion."

"What?" The word came out stifled, and she knew that Elliot was trying to ignore how good her foot felt against his balls. "That's um..." He cleared his throat. "That sounds gross."

"Yeah," Connie said with a laugh. "It sounds like my vagina needs to sneeze, but can't."

It was sort of funny, but Elliot didn't laugh or say anything. He was too busy struggling to maintain some kind of decorum, but Connie knew she was wearing him down. He'd raise a white flag soon enough, and she'd get what she wanted.

They'd started this little game of edging and denial five days ago. Connie had stroked him slowly, whispering filthy things as he groped her body. She'd brought him to the edge of climax time and time again, only to stop and leave him dangling. She'd enjoyed the way Elliot squirmed under her grip and delighted in that sullen look, which clouded his face when he realized that his climax wasn't going to happen.

Elliot was always such an aggressive lover that Connie was looking for fun ways to tame him. Ever the contrarian, she liked to push his buttons, mouth off to him when they were alone, and play coy after heavy bouts of teasing him. Though five days wasn't long by most people's standards, it had been the longest period of teasing she'd put him through. But now, she was ready for him to let out the brute and fuck her right and proper.

The only downside to edging Elliot was that Connie wasn't seeing any action. His denial was her denial. She'd wait until she was back at her place, strip down, and settle into her bed. She'd pull Tumblr up on her phone and cruise her favorite porn-blogs to get off. However, she knew her fingers were no substitute for Elliot's hard cock throbbing inside of her. Unlike him, Connie didn't miss out on orgasms. The problem was they didn't have the explosive energy of Elliot slam-fucking her until her eyes rolled up to their whites.

She massaged him under the table, and when he was too distracted, Connie let a hand creep down her leggings to play between her thighs. She knew no one would notice. It was still early, and the coffee shop was mostly vacant. The morning rush wouldn't be in for another twenty minutes or so.

"How are you feeling over there?" Connie asked.

Elliot huffed and scooted back in his chair, just out of her reach. "Good," he grunted and reached for his laptop. "Ready to get some writing done." He kept his distance from her, sitting awkwardly too far away from the table just to keep out of her reach.

"How long do you think you can hold out?" Connie asked, hand furtively under the table, rubbing her clit in anticipation.

"You tell me? It's your game."

Connie stared at him. Was he really not going to give her what she wanted? She sat back in her chair and let her hand fall away. After five days, she'd have hoped Elliot would be ready to all but rip her clothes off, not pouting and sulking like a goddamn schoolboy.

Elliot caught wind of her frustration and seemed to perk, smiling over at Connie. "Oh," he said, looking over his laptop. "I thought you wanted to play this game? I thought you liked denial."

Connie shook her head, trying not to let on just how done she was with all of this. She felt the words form and let them fly before she could stop them. "Fuck you."

"Not fun anymore?" He asked in a condescending tone. "Because I was thinking we could hold out another week or so. Does that sound alright to you?"

That abso-fucking-lutely wasn't alright with Connie. Was he serious? She couldn't hold out another week!

"Fuck that."

"Fuck that? Oh, Connie," he taunted. "You can hold off another week. If I can, then so can you."

He gave her a triumphant smile before plucking away on his laptop. It was the first genuine smile she'd seen on him in a couple of days and it didn't sit well with Connie. Teasing was always her game, but the idea that she was the one being denied made her want to flip the coffee table! Instead, she kept a lid on her anger and sipped her coffee while thinking cunning, obsidian thoughts. Five days was long enough. She needed to get laid. She needed to feel Elliot inside of her, even if she had to convince him.

Connie pulled up Hangouts on her phone and sent a message directly to his computer. "Another week? Are you sure you can last that long?" Before he could reply, she pulled down on the collar of her shirt, snapped a picture of her cleavage, and sent it to him.

Connie watched Elliot stared at his screen, trying to will him into submission before she sent another message. "Is your cock hard yet? Let me feel it."

She slid down in her chair so that when she stretched, she could almost reach him.

Elliot was still sitting ridiculously far from the coffee table and happened to look down just in time to see Connie's foot feeling blindly for his crotch beneath the table.

He might have thought it was funny under different circumstances. But after being under Connie's thumb for five days, Elliot lost his shit. "Alright!" He yelled, drawing attention from the woman behind the counter. She turned to them, looking curious and a little worried as Elliot shot up out of his seat. "Enough! Cut it out!"

In his outrage, Elliot's thigh bumped the table, spilling his mocha. Connie heard the barista behind the counter make a nasally nervous noise, before rushing over with some napkins.

"Shit." Elliot had caught his mocha before it could make too big of a mess, but where Elliot saw calamity, Connie saw a window of opportunity to seize it before it closed.

"Oh god," she said and gasped. She looked from the barista to Elliot, trying to adopt the part of a concerned girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Elliot." Her apologetic tone confused him, and he shot her an odd and curious look.

"I'll take those, thank you." Connie reached out and took the napkins from the barista and offered her a slight smile of gratitude before tuning to Elliot.

"I think some of it got some on your slacks." She pointed to a small patch, on his thigh and his eyes followed. "We have to hurry and get it up before it stains." Before Elliot could protest, Connie took his hand and led him into one of the unisex bathrooms in the back, leaving the barista standing speechless.

The bathroom was cramped, only a little bigger than a broom closet. Connie locked the door behind them, then turned to Elliot, who looked even more confused than before. "What the fuck are you up to?"

"I'm not doing anything, I just wanted to help you clean up." She'd adopted an almost maternal tone of concern, but Elliot didn't seem convinced. Suspicion replace his confusion as Connie held up the napkins as if they explained everything. Then she fell to her knees and began wiping away at the mocha stains, making sure to take liberal passes over Elliot's crotch, pretending the stain was much bigger than it appeared.

She expected him to protest, maybe even yank her up off of her knees. Then she felt the bulge growing in his pants. Connie looked up at him, feigning shock and outrage. Elliot only nodded once and took in a deep breath, trying to exercise his patience. "I know what you're up to?"

Connie pouted and shook her head; the gesture suggested that this was all just a big misunderstanding. "I'm not up to anything. You're the one who's up to something." She said and squeezed his crotch gently. She felt Elliot's cock twitch in his slacks and looked up at him in time to see his icy stare begin to thaw. As it did, Connie opened her mouth and kneaded his balls through his thin fabric.

"I'm just trying to help you out." Now she spoke like some posh woman whom he'd just offended. How could he think she was up to no good? Connie was only trying to help him, wasn't she?

Elliot wiped his mouth absently and looked up at the ceiling caught in a bind between needing to cum and wanting to deny Connie. When he finally spoke, Connie knew she'd get what she wanted.

"Are you sure you want to do this here?" Connie was abso-fucking-lutely positive she wanted to do this here, but decided to play coy for a little longer. Teasing him was just too much fun.

"Do what here?" Connie asked, innocently. Elliot let out a dismissive laugh before reaching down and undoing his belt buckle. She felt the pull of anticipation all over her body as Elliot pulled his briefs were down under his balls, making his cock spring out like a caged animal that is all too eager to be set free.

Connie eyed his cock, feeling tremors run through her body. Elliot wasn't hung like a horse. She'd thought of his size as average with a little extra, but looking at his cock now, it seemed thicker than usual.

His musk hung about the bathroom in a loose veil, and she clothed her eyes and breathed in, letting it wash over her. When she opened them again, she saw Elliot looking down at her wearing a lax expression, as if just pulling out his cock had granted him some relief.

Connie tilted her head like a curious cat. "What am I supposed to do with-" But she was interrupted by Elliot's brute impatience. He stuffed Connie's words back into her mouth with the head of his cock. She made a small cry of protest before Elliot wrapped two fingers around her raven-colored hair and pulled her closer. His cock inched deeper into her mouth, and Connie's eyes grew wide, but she also felt her arousal climbing inside of her.

"Did you think you could tease me for days, and nothing would happen?" Connie let out a low gagging noise as if to answer. She felt saliva spill from the corners of her mouth and cascade down her chin. She opened her mouth a little wider and braced herself with her palms pressed tight against his thighs.

"What if he cums in my mouth?" The idea threatened to topple Connie's arousal, like a wave capsizing a ship at sea. She struggled to pull Elliot's cock free and looked up at him. "I want you inside of me," but Elliot shook his head and forced his cock back into her mouth.

"You're not in a position to make demands."

He didn't hold back and commenced to fuck her face like a jackhammer. Connie heard him moan deep in the back of his throat and prayed he'd last a little longer.

She didn't mind the face-fucking, she liked it when he took control and used her. It was the main reason she needled him as often as she did, but she couldn't ignore the ruby riffs of jealousy her pussy was sending to her mouth.

At last, Elliot slowed his pace, Connie feared for the worst. "Here it comes," she thought sourly. "God, why couldn't he just cum inside of me?"

To her surprise, Elliot pulled his cock free from her lips and yanked Connie to her feet. She saw a look of desperate urgency on his face before Elliot's hands were in her armpits, and suddenly there was liftoff. He placed her up on the bathroom basin and her legs instantly opened around him. He ripped her leggings open at the crotch. Normally, Connie would have launched profanities and threats at him, but after five days, she was beyond caring. The fact that Elliot needed it from her that bad set Connie ablaze.

He'd pulled her panties to one side, pausing for a moment to admire how her pussy was a wealth of dampness. She watched as Elliot's cock opened her before the tension broke, and she was lost in satisfaction. Connie was struck with an odd visual of Elliot trying to reach something at the back of a deep shelf and laughed to herself.

She was right, Elliot's cock was thicker, or at least he felt thicker. Maybe that was her imagination, but it felt as if he were scraping the walls, and Connie felt her chest tighten as his girth worked her open. His balls slapped her ass in a thwack with every knock of his hips, and the sensation almost made her cum right then and there! She was so sensitive, he could breathe on it, and she would climax. Her pussy gripped him like a handshake, and she watched in delight as Elliot began the labor of working out five days of frustration on her.

"Teasing bitch," he said, his voice climbing higher as his hips slammed into her.

"Teasing little bitch." He was so fierce, that Connie felt the bathroom basin shake beneath her. Elliot didn't seem to notice, and instead, gripped her hips with white-knuckled intensity, as if he were certain she was trying to escape him.

"Oh god," he was yelling now, Elliot had always been a vocal lover. "Here it comes." He pounded into her, and for a split second, Connie felt his cock twitch inside of her.

"You want my cum, don't you?"

"Yes," she moaned. "Give it to me."

Elliot leaned down to kiss her, and Connie thought she tasted sweet mocha on his breathe before he buried his cock deep into her. He pulled away, breaking the kiss before calling out as the rage of the orgasm took him over.

He tensed against her, and Connie felt him erupt, filling her little fissure with warm creamy elation. She'd expected more than the usual healthy serving, but what she got was so much more than she imagined. She leaned back with her head resting against the bathroom mirror and took every drop of his until her greedy little cunt couldn't hold anymore.

When he'd finally expelled himself into her, Elliot sighed and leaned down to rest his head on her chest. Connie curled a hand around his neck and drew him in while smiling to herself. She'd gotten what she wanted and worn him down.

"Feel better?" She asked, and Elliot nodded.

"Yeah," he said dryly. "Much better."

She smiled and pressed her lips to his ear. "No more pelvic congestion?"

Elliot laughed jaggedly and shook his head. "Definitely not."

It'd been quick, and she hadn't cum, but Connie wasn't too upset about any of that. Given what she'd put him through for the past five days, she understood. Being used and filled left her feeling refreshed, and while she was temporarily sated, they were far from finished.

It took them a moment to get themselves together. Connie insisted on watching his cum pour out of her pussy. There was so much of it, and the spectacle of his load cascading down and tickling her asshole turned her on all over again. She waited until Elliot zipped his slack up before reaching out to caress his balls. "I know you have more for me," She coaxed. "Let's go back to your place. I want you to make me cum until I can't walk. Then, we'll see if I can drain you dry before noon." Elliot could only smile.

Connie left first with Elliot right behind her. She could still feel some of his cum that had trickled down her leg when she stood and hoped no one would notice them.

They were met with a line of patrons that trailed all the way back to their seats. She checked her watch and saw that they had just entered the morning rush. Had they been gone that long?

Connie felt eyes on her as she made her way to her seat. She realized that the whole place had heard them fucking in the bathroom. It was on everyone's face. Some of them were blushing, others were snickering, trying to hold back laughter. And then, there was the silence that fell over the room as she and Elliot had entered, as if they were talking about them. Finally, Connie looked over to the barista, who usually was a jovial woman, but now wore an embarrassed frown.

"Elliot, you're ready to go, right?" He nodded, and she saw that his cheeks had gone flush. He was embarrassed too. They packed their things in a hurry and retreated back to his place as if a mob had run them out.