“What’ll it be, sugar?”<\/p>\n
The greeting was so Southern that he barely looked up. \u00a0"Coffee. \u00a0Black please.“<\/p>\n
Then he really looked. \u00a0She was smiling at him, her sweet round face peeking out from a mane of blonde curls. \u00a0Her plaid shirt, tucked messily into her jeans, was open enough at the top to give him a peek. \u00a0He found that his ears were warm.<\/p>\n
"Oh, eh – my ‘pologies, I didn’t expect – excuse me.” \u00a0He tipped his hat and spun around, letting the door rest behind him for a moment. He took a deep breath, turned, came back inside, this time with a grin on his face.<\/p>\n
She laughed. \u00a0"What’ll it be, sugar?“<\/p>\n
He leaned across the counter and looked down at his hands, adopting a contemplative look. \u00a0"Well, let me think. \u00a0I’m drivin’ my truck across the state border. \u00a0I’ve had a long, lonely drive all through the night. \u00a0And there’s a pretty girl in front of me.” \u00a0He raised his head slowly, a wide grin spreading across his face. \u00a0"Looks like I need coffee. \u00a0Black, please.“<\/p>\n
Her laugh was full and bright as she turned, displaying her round ass under the apron, and fetched him a clean mug. \u00a0She poured in the coffee. \u00a0"Anything else?”<\/p>\n
“Ah, y’know, just a bit of company while I sip this.” \u00a0He lifted the mug to his lips. \u00a0"What’s your name?“<\/p>\n
"Not tellin’,” she said, tapping her chin with a finger. \u00a0"It’s more fun that way. \u00a0C’mon.“ \u00a0Suddenly she was all sass and curves as she swaggered into the back. \u00a0He looked around at the empty cafe, hurriedly swallowed a few mouthfuls of blistering coffee, and slipped through the back door.<\/p>\n
She bounded up to him, her now-freed breasts jiggling wildly. \u00a0Her grin was infectious. \u00a0"Right here! \u00a0On the rag washer. \u00a0Hurry!”<\/p>\n
She was fumbling with his pants, and he scrambled to help her, caught up in the excitement. \u00a0She wriggled against him and worked her hands until he was warm and ready, then she jumped up backwards onto the washer, spreading her legs under her skirt. \u00a0Giggling, she reached for his shirt collar and pulled him to her. \u00a0They locked lips and he found his way in.<\/p>\n
They rocked together, struggling to find a rhythm, until she slapped the washer on. \u00a0The unit vibrated beneath her, giving them a cadence to rock to. \u00a0She squealed and clutched his shoulders, flinging her head back so that her curls fell around her bare shoulders. \u00a0He flicked out his tongue and teased her nipples as she came, and then followed suit, relief from the road rushing through him.<\/p>\n
She shoved him off almost as soon as he had finished. “All right, mister, back to your coffee. \u00a0It’s getting cold.”<\/p>\n
He stood struggling to pull on his boxers, calling after her, “What, no goodnight kiss?”<\/p>\n
“I’m just your sugar sweet girl from Georgia!” she called back, and he smiled and went out to caffeinate for another long drive.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
“What’ll it be, sugar?” The greeting was so Southern that he barely looked up. \u00a0"Coffee. \u00a0Black please.“ Then he really looked. \u00a0She was smiling at him, her sweet round face peeking out from a mane of blonde curls. \u00a0Her plaid shirt, tucked messily into her jeans, was open enough at the top to give him … <\/p>\n