This is our popular CopyCat Cafe from the beginning!
I’d been watching him come in each Saturday morning for months. His short spiky dark hair, piercing green eyes, six foot three frame and a chest that created ripples in his T-shirt were the sort of things that made a girl look twice. While his slightly gravelly voice was the sort of thing you heard in your dreams, the kind of dreams where you woke up panting. The only problem I could see with him was that most Saturday’s he came in with his wife, a woman that never looked happy, always had one of those surly looks on her face and never looked like she wanted to be there. He also came in every week with his kids, but they were the cutest kids I’d ever seen and they always seemed to be enjoying themselves, although they were of an age where cute was probably more of an embarrassment than a compliment.
Despite spending most of my work day in the kitchen every Saturday morning I made the effort to serve his table, three flavoured milkshakes, usually chocolate, lime and strawberry, and at least one coffee. Some days SHE wouldn’t drink anything, on those days she was usually scowling and grumpy or looking like she wanted to be elsewhere. Each week we would do the usual greetings and other such pleasantries you offer your regular customers. But it was until about the third month of his family visiting that we started having conversations.
The first conversations happened on a day when his kids were in sports uniforms, baseball I think they were. SHE was not present at the table and as I delivered their drinks he offered me a seat at the table. He was obviously having a bad morning and and he just wanted someone to talk to. As the owner of the CopyCat Cafe, I made the rules so sitting down for a few minutes to make sure a regular customer was ok wasn’t an issue for me.
Sitting down and was to become a bit of a regular thing for us and over the first few weeks I gradually found out he was married to HER, but she’d told him she wanted a divorce, his problem was that while she wanted the divorce, she wanted him out of her life she also wanted the house and the kids. I didn’t admit it but for all the interaction I saw her have with those kids on a Saturday morning I couldn’t figure out why she wanted them. She always seemed as distant from them as she did from her husband.
It wasn’t until our third little chat I even found out that his name was Simon but by then the poor guy was a wreck. His wife was demanding the house, full access to the kids and wanted him out the door. She had no job, no inclination to get a job and she actually expected Simon to pay her a wage to stay home and look after the kids she didn’t seem to want. I know I shouldn’t have been feeling sorry for a guy I barely knew and on top of that only knew his side of the story but I couldn’t help it. I also know that on the day Simon came in by himself, it was a Tuesday around 11am, I shouldn’t have left the cafe in the hands of Sonya and invited Simon out the back for a coffee away from the rest of the patrons, but I did.
We went out into the smoking area, an area none of my staff used any more which although open was well protected from the weather and closed off from the road. There was an old steel and timber picnic table and several picnic benches which look like they were taken straight out of a council picnic area but that was about it. We didn’t use the area often so there wasn’t much point having stuff in there. It was under that roof and out of the sight of everyone that I did it, I know I shouldn’t have but in my defence I did wait long enough for us to both finish our coffee.
It started out with my right hand on his leg the denim of his pants between us. Then there was the look we shared as our eyes locked onto each other. I don’t know how it happened so quickly but our faces were so close to each other I could feel his breath as he exhaled, his breath smelled like coffee. Those green eyes were so piercing I could feel their gaze burn all the way to the back of my head but I could also hesitation in those beautiful eyes. I held back from kissing him, wanting, hoping he’d make the next move. His coffee scented breath, his gaze, his heat, it seemed like I waited an eternity but eventually he leaned in and our lips met and fireworks exploded in my head.
From the second our lips touched the anticipation was too much, sparks flew heat rose and neither of us could stop. Neither of us wanted to stop! Whatever had been building between us in the previous weeks was electric and we both knew it. I’m sure the heat radiating off us as the passion level rose increased even the outside temperature by 10 degrees, it increased my internal temperature but a lot more than that..
“I want you. I want to fuck you.” he whispered into my open wet mouth. There was nothing prudent about what we were doing
I couldn’t remember a man ever being so open and desperate with me, especially not sitting on a picnic table in what was essentially the great outdoors anyway.
“Take me here.” I replied breaking the kiss and propping myself up on the end of the table.
We didn’t waste time removing clothes we were to desperate to feel each other. As is my usual attire when I am at work I was wearing a skirt so gifting access for Simon was made easier and quicker. Opening my legs I slipped the crotch of my underwear, which was already damp, to one side and reached forward to grab Simon’s shoulder with my spare hand. Although I wasn’t think it at the time later on when I thought about it I was thankful that Simon was too desperate to notice I wearing my cheap Target cotton tails.
He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, leaving his belt to hold them close to his waist. Before we started kissing I looked down and watched him pull his stiff shaft out from the confines of his undies, he held it in his hand and slowly pushed his hips towards mine. The instant he slipped himself inside me I felt electric, felt like every nerve in my body had come alive. I wrapped both arms around his neck and dragged his lips towards mine. Almost instantly I began to moan quietly into his mouth, the breaths increasing in speed as he thrust his hips towards mine. When he moved his lips to my neck and I could feel his stubble rubbing against me it took all my strength not to let my moans become audible. He thrust himself deep, he thrust himself hard and he thrust himself slow, alternating with nearly every thrust. Every thrust seemed to touch a different nerve and send it’s own little electric shocks through me, I knew I wasn’t going to last long. The excitement level and anticipation that had been building between us for weeks obviously drove us on and neither of us lasted long, but that didn’t matter to each of us.
Within a minute of finishing he’d zipped himself up, apologized for taking advantage of my generosity, darted out through the back fence and was gone. Even before the back gate banged shut I felt a sense of longing, a sense of loss. I knew Simon was an unhappily married man and I had no intention of being the other woman but by god did I want him back.
Once I composed myself I headed back into work wondering if I’d see Simon the following Saturday.