**The Barista’s Secret**

I knew I shouldn’t have been there. The café was *her* spot—Lena, my buddy’s ex. But damn if her coffee wasn’t the best in town, and after a long shift, I needed the caffeine. When I walked in, she was behind the counter, tight black apron hugging her curves, that fiery red hair tied up messy like she’d just rolled out of bed. She smirked when she saw me, leaning over just enough to give me a glimpse of cleavage.

“Long time no see,” she said, voice low, playful.

I ordered my usual, trying not to stare at her mouth—those full lips that I knew my buddy used to rave about. The café was empty except for an old guy in the corner, buried in a newspaper. Lena handed me my coffee, her fingers brushing mine. Lingering.

“You don’t call anymore,” she teased, biting her bottom lip.

I swallowed hard. “Probably for the best, right?”

She laughed, leaning closer. “Who gives a shit what’s ‘best’? Back room’s free if you’ve got five minutes.”

My dick twitched in my jeans. Fuck it.

I followed her past the counter, through the swinging door into the cramped stockroom. Shelves of coffee beans and syrup bottles lined the walls, the air thick with the smell of espresso. The second the door clicked shut, she shoved me against it, her hands already on my belt.

“You’ve been staring at my mouth all day,” she whispered, popping the button on my jeans. “Time to put it to work.”

I groaned as she yanked my jeans and boxers down just enough to free my cock—already hard, already leaking. She didn’t waste time. One hand wrapped around my shaft, squeezing the base, while her tongue flicked over the tip, tasting me.

“Fuck, Lena—”

She hummed, laughing against my skin before sinking down, swallowing me whole in one smooth motion. My knees nearly buckled. Her mouth was *hot*, her tongue pressing along the underside of my cock as she sucked me deep, her lips tight around me. She pulled back slowly, spit-slick, before diving down again, bobbing fast, her nose burying in the dark hair at my base.

I gripped the shelves behind me, trying not to thrust into her throat. “Jesus, you’re good at this.”

She pulled off just long enough to smirk up at me. “You have *no idea* how much I missed doing this.” Then her mouth was back on me, one hand working my shaft in time with her sucks, the other cupping my balls, rolling them between her fingers.

The wet sounds were filthy—every slurp, every pop of her lips coming off my cock. I could feel her moaning around me, vibrations making my thighs shake. She sped up, taking me deeper, gagging just a little before pulling back, spit dripping down her chin.

“Fuck, I’m close,” I warned, my voice ragged.

She didn’t stop. If anything, she sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks, her hand twisting at the tip with every upstroke. I came hard, groaning through clenched teeth as I shot down her throat. She swallowed every drop, licking me clean before finally pulling back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Best tip I’ve ever gotten,” she laughed, standing up and fixing her apron like nothing happened.

I was still catching my breath when she kissed me quick, tasting like me and coffee. “Next time,” she whispered, “I won’t stop at just my mouth.”

Then she was gone, back to the counter like nothing happened.

I walked out of that stockroom a changed man. And yeah, I’d be back tomorrow.