Fun in Store

"You missed a bit," I whispered, gesturing with my eyebrows up to his head. He got his phone out to use as a mirror to check his spiked up fringe and picked off the little glob of cum clinging to a gelled-up spike on the side of his head with his finger and thumb, wiping it off on his apron.

"It can go with all the rest," he smiled, then returned to fixing my coffee. "I'll bring it over," he says.

I've had my eye on this guy in my local coffee shop for a while now. A long while. So long that I thought it was never going to happen, and I had lost my nerve, thinking the chance was blown. I'm an expat in a big Asian city, and every week when my cleaning lady comes in, I pack up some things and decamp to a coffee shop near my house. I like this shop because it is wide and open. It has a balcony that stretches across the front of the building, and it has good tables that are more like desks than coffee shop tables, which are perfect for setting up camp with my computer for a few hours. That and because I think the barista is very attractive.

When I first frequented the shop, I ordered in my pidgin version of the local language. JH - I'd seen his name on his name tag - replied to me in flawless English, so I assumed he had been abroad to study as a teenager. He was mid-twenties, pretty tall for a local, with a handsome face that is quite long and has a rugged, squared off jaw. He's not drop dead gorgeous, but he's good looking, and he has something about him. Once, he told me "Haven't seen you for a while" when I came to the shop after a vacation, which I found quite sweet as I took it that he had noticed me - more precisely, that he had thought about me while I had been away. Since that moment a little knot has tightened in my stomach whenever I came to the shop and he was behind the register.

I fit the description of a bear cub - dark-haired thirtysomething, 6 ft 5 in tall, broad and stocky, and hairy all over. Being so tall and big, I'd never really felt confident about my body, as I could do with a little toning up and it is hard to get decent clothes when you live in Asia, leaving me feeling like a big sloppy mess. So any sexual attention received from anyone always welcome, but makes me nervous for some reason. I'm usually good to go once I know someone is into me, but I'm not so good at being flirtatious.

In the weeks and months that followed that comment, my attraction to him grew, and I started to suspect a little bit if he was into me. Like, sometimes I would absent-mindedly look up from my computer while I was thinking of something, and I would notice him looking over in my direction. Or once or twice I saw him on the street when he wasn't working and he'd make sure to nod in recognition and say hi. But then it started to change as each week when I would come to the shop he would be sitting with a man - an older Western man - and I saw them walking together on the street a few time on a Saturday night around the area. Perhaps they were there to discuss business? JH, for all I knew, could have been the manager and the western man the owner of the shop. More likely, I began to suspect, they were partners - boyfriends. I didn't really know, but the knot always twisted in my stomach when I saw him, and the ambiguity started to get to me.

Today, when I came into the shop it was after a six week-long trip to Australia. I'd been lazy and had grown myself a bit of a beard, and from walking and swimming a lot I had lost a couple of kilos in weight. The shop was empty, as it always was at that time in the morning, and it appeared to be only him and another staff member working. He was sitting at a table close to the counter looking at some papers, and when I entered he looked up and saw me, giving me a nice big smile. "Long time no see," he said.

My stomach knotted pretty tightly, as by now I knew that I was totally attracted to him. I had wondered while I was away if he would say something about my absence, like he did last time. I smiled back, and said, "Yeah, I've been away. Back to work next week."

"Cool," he said. Then he got up and walked to the counter. I dropped my eyes down and looked at his butt. It was nice; nothing spectacular, but nicely proportioned and with a bit of a wobble. My mind flashed back to the times I had jerked off thinking about his butt.

I didn't order what I normally did, which surprised him, as he was already starting to ring up my usual order on the till. "Oh, you're changing it up," he commented.

"Yeah," I said. "I feel like doing something different today."

"Good to know," he said, flashing me a grin.

I took my coffee over to my usual seat, unpacking my computer from my bag and laying it on the table. I didn't open it up, though. I leaned back in my chair and flicked my eyes up at JH. He was behind the coffee machine, but he must have noticed that I was looking at him because he looked up and gave me a smile, the type of smile you give when you realise someone is looking at you and you're not sure what type of response to give.

A minute later, he came over to the small counter near my table to refill the water and napkins. When he turned around, he looked at me and once again he asked, "So where have you been these last few weeks?"

"Travelling," I said, trying to not sound flustered and awkward. "Six weeks in Australia."

"That explains the tan, then" he said, approaching the table and standing behind the chair on the other side of it. "And the beard."

"Ha, yeah," I laughed. "I got a little lazy."

"That's what vacations are for," he said. "It suits you."

"Thanks." My stomach churned majorly. Was he hitting one me? "I'm not sure whether to keep it or not."

"I think you should."

"Then maybe I will."

"Cool."

Silence. I wasn't sure how to follow up, what to say. He was awkwardly standing behind the chair, big jug of water in one hand, and he looked like he wanted to put it down.

"Sit down if you want," I said after a moment. "I'm not doing much."

"Um, sure" he said, pulling up a chair. "How's the coffee?"

"Good. Nice to have something different."

"Ha. Yeah, if you don't mind me saying, you seem like someone who likes the same kind of things all of the time. Like, the same coffee, the same table, the same time and day coming here."

"Ha, well that's kind of true. I like the coffee here. And I like the tables. They feel like desks, so I can work a bit better on them than on those small tables coffee shops usually have. And I like this table because I can see it from the smoking room so when I have a smoke I can keep an eye on my things."

"Just your things?" he asked, twitching his eyebrows and looking at me with an amused face.

"What else would I be looking at?" I asked nervously. I had a feeling, but I wasn't sure, that the way he was asking me that question was a little flirtatious, and that made me feel at once a little excited and flirty and nervous and scared.

"Oh, I don't know..." he began. He looked down at the table a little, as if he was unsure about proceeding. With his chin down, he raised his dark, almond-shaped eyes up toward me, his cheeks a little flushed. "Maybe there is something behind the counter that you like to look at sometimes?"

Now I knew. Now I was certain that he was being flirtatious. A little flutter began in my stomach, and a little stir began in my groin. I was nervous, but I decided to go for it. What's the worst that could happen? If anything fucked up I would just go to one of the many other coffee shops along the street from now on.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is actually," I replied nervously. I left a pregnant pause hanging in the air. He opened his mouth slightly to speak, but I cut him off: "I love the painting on the wall."

He laughed, a deep but nervous laugh. I said it to try and break the tension, to stop us feeling so buttoned up around each other.

"Oh, okay," he said, seeming disappointed, his faced flushed. He turned around to look at it. "It's okay, I guess... It was here when we took over the place and I just never took it down." I leaned forward across the table while his head was turned. When he turned around, our faces were close together, so close that if he leant his face down our foreheads and noses would touch.

"But I like looking at you more," I said. I saw his eyes widen a little, and felt the flush that came across his cheeks.

He leaned in. The tips of our noses touched lightly. My cock stiffened as my stomach dropped, growing fully hard and stretching hard against my underwear and jeans. Our lips pressed lightly for just a second, dry and sticky at first; I guess we both had dry mouths from nerves. He breathed heavily, like a sigh, and then came back in for a longer, stronger kiss, wetter this time, and pressed into my mouth much harder. It was only a couple of seconds, but it felt much longer. He pulled his head back and fixed me a look with those dark, dark almond eyes, and then whispered, "I'm so glad to hear that."

He looked around the room, twisting his head towards the counter and then to the shop's door. People were passing the shop on the street outside, striding past the window but not looking in. A noise came from the small kitchen behind the counter. "Just a minute," he said, standing up and heading towards the kitchen, arranging the folds of his apron across his lap to hide the bulge that was straining at his jeans. I heard some chatter in the local language, and when he emerged from the back room he nodded in the direction another door to the right of the counter, which led to a small corridor where the toilets and a staff room were.

I gathered up my bag and followed him through the doorway. He smiled at me, looking down at the tumescence visible through my jeans. "Bring that too," he smiled, nodding at my hard on and licking his lips.

We went into the staff room. There were large, strong boxes, presumably filled with beans and cups, piled up under a high window which let in a dim light, but the room was wide and the floor was covered with a rug. I set my bag down in a corner, and he locked the frosted glass door behind us. "I've always wondered what was in here," I joked, looking around.

"Well, now you know," he said. He stepped towards me, wetting lips slightly, his eyes seeming to glitter and glint in anticipation and excitement. The toes of his shoes bumped into mine. Since I was a taller than him, he reached up to rest his hands on my shoulders and stood up on his tip toes to plant his lips on mine for a kiss, a kiss that this time was wet and a little sloppy, with lips mashing and smacking against each other and tongues thrashing and exploring. His lips tasted like gum. He ran his hands down my chest and across my stomach, then grabbed my thick, hard bulge in his slender hand and wagged it up and down. "Wow," he sighed.

His slender fingers started working their way to my belt, pulling back the leather strap and releasing the buckle. He popped off each of the four buttons on my fly while kissing me. He set himself back down on his heels and looked down at the open fly, pulling it open a little more so he could see more of what was inside my jeans. He reached his hand inside and grabbed my cock again, running his fingers along the length and teasing the warm hard skin with his fingers through the fabric of my boxers. He smiled up at me, then yanked my jeans down to my knees and ran his soft warm hands up and around my thick, solid thighs, running them up the inside until he came to the pouch of my balls, cupping them. I leant back in pleasure as his soft warm palms cupped my balls. It felt so good; my balls have always been the most sensitive part of me, and a light brush against them turns me on so much. My dick was raging now, hardening and throbbing from the lightly teasing sensations that his fingers were eliciting.

He crouched down now, doing that squat that Asians can do with feet fully flat against the floor and his butt pulled in tightly against the back of his thighs. His fingers reached lightly inside the legs of my boxers and he pressed his face tightly against my throbbing erection, running his cheek back and forth across its length. Lightning bolts flashed through my body, prompting my dick to get harder and throb even more, and when he got to the end of my shaft he planted a small kiss on the tip through the fabric. "Awesome," he whispered, looking up at me with awe on his face.

His fingers reached up to my stomach now, delving under my shirt and rubbing me all over, his lips and mouth kissing and rubbing against the erection that continued to throb through my boxers. I leaned back, breathing deeply and enjoyed the pleasurable sensations that he was giving. Then his hands and palms came down to the waistband, and he hooked his index fingers under. He looked up at me, his mouth muffled by the thick, hot mound of cock throbbing in my boxers, his almond eyes glittering and lustful. "And I've always wondered what is in here," he breathed.

I leant back, my ass perched on the edge of the box behind me, my arms stretching back and holding onto the edge, and I thrust my hips forward into his face, feeling his hot warm breath all over my dick. He tugged lightly at my waistband, pulling them down just enough that the end of my uncut dick poked over the top. The cool air in the room felt good against the exposed tip, and when he gently pulled back the soft skin of my foreskin I shivered with pleasure. He tugged my boxers down further, reaching up into the legs of my boxers now so that he could slide them further down my thick, hairy thighs. My cock fell out heavily as the elastic fell away, swivelling out from the restriction of my jocks, unexpectedly slapping him across his lips and then nestling his alongside face as it swung forward and pointed up the air: seven and a half inches of thick, fat meat sticking up above two heavy balls that were aching from how much they desired being drained by this handsome young man kneeling before me.

His eyes widened and his lips broke into a big smile. "And now I now," he laughed, reaching up to stroke his warm, soft palm along the length of silky, veiny skin pressed against his soft, hairless cheek.

"And was it worth the wait?" I asked, staring down at him, my dick throbbing and thick and warm.

"Totally," he replied. "It's so big. Bigger than I'd imagined. Hoped." He brought his head back, inspecting my balls and the long, veiny shaft. "I can't believe it's finally happening," he breathed.

I smiled. He looked so good, crouching down in front of me, his eyes staring up at me and his handsome face flushing. I reached down and put my hand behind the back of his head and rubbed it around and over his crown. His hair was thick and spiky and sticky from the gel or wax he used. He brushed my balls with the back of his hand. "I love that," I moaned. "It feels so good. It's my favourite thing." My dick was pointing up and out and rocking gently as I shifted my hips in response to pleasure coursing through my body from him teasing my heavy, hairy balls. It nudged the tip of his nose. I rocked my hips sideways, making the tip slap across his nose lightly. He smiled, looked up at me, and then stuck out his tongue, bringing it up so that its wetness nestled into the crook at the top of my balls and the base of my cock. Electric shocks sparked through my body. "Yes," I groaned.

He licked all the way up my shaft, around the shaft from left to right and all the way up to the tip. When he got there he his tongue flicked and darted around and across the tip. The sensation was so good. I was throbbing and aching hard now. A little blob of precum leaked out from my tip and rolled down the back of the head. He deftly stuck out the tip of his tongue and dabbed it up, sucking it back into his mouth and swirling it around inside his gums. "My first taste of you," he breathed lustfully. "Delicious."

Now I was aching, my cock harder than it had ever been. He was pressing his nose against it once more, running it up and down the sides, breathing in my scent, his hands warm and soft. "You made me so hard," I breathed.

"I know. And I'm gonna make you so much harder," he replied mischievously. He stuck his tongue out and ran it up the entire underside of my shaft, from the crook at the base to the tip, and then his lips opened and he took the tip inside his warm, wet mouth in one slow movement. His lips opened out and he slid them over the tip, stopping where the head met the shaft, so that he looked like he was sucking on a strawberry. He leaned his head back and looked up to meet my eyes, his dark, almond eyes gorgeous and lustful. My god, he looked so good like that. I broke off his gaze to throw my head back as his tongue probed and swirled around the head inside his engorged lips, my cock aching and throbbing at the wetness. I put a hand inside my shirt to rub and pinch my nipple.

I bucked and thrusted as the sensations from his tongue and lips washed over me, my knees buckling and my cock throbbing thick and hard. He moved his lips to the side of my cock, opening them up and running up and down the side of the shaft before engulfing the head again. With my other hand I reached behind his head again, running it all over the back and top of his hair, pulling him in closer to me. I was in heaven, the soft wet licks and slurping and spit and lips all over my cock making it harder and harder. I was starting to feel a knot in the base of stomach as the beginnings of my orgasm built up. I didn't want to cum just yet, though, but my God was this boy one of the best cocksuckers I have ever head.

"Oh my God, you're so good at that," I breathed.

"I know," he mumbled, cheekily.

I laughed. He reached down and under his apron. I heard his belt unbuckle, and his butt swung up from his crouching position and his jeans and briefs dropped around his ankles and bunched up around his feet, revealing his hairy and lean legs. All the while he continued sucking and slurping away at me, leaving leaving sticky, sloppy trails of spit along my engorged shaft. He crouched back down now, his knees wide open, still covered by the brown apron slung around his waist, the flat surface disturbed by a bulge poking through the middle. His hand left my balls and went under the surface of his apron, and soon there was a rhythmic lifting and falling of the apron as he jerked himself off while sucking me.

I leant down and crouched in front of him, forcing his lips to come off my cock for a moment. I wanted to see what he had under his apron. I lifted it from his knees and reached under to feel around. His balls were small and smooth, as most Asian men's are - little soft globes. I felt them retract as I gently rolled them and brushed the back of my hand under them, causing him to buck and moan. I felt a thick nest of long, straight pubes poking out around the side of them. Asian pubes have always been a turn on for me, and I ran my fingers through the patch around his cock, surprisingly soft but long and thick; I gaged that it was around six inches. His cock brushed the underside of my forearm, and I moved my hand across to touch his shaft. It was long and smooth, not too thick, but it was hard as a rock, as hard as mine, and the cut head was thick and engorged and covered in slippery, wet precum. I pulled back the apron and took in the sight of his prick sticking straight up and leaking, and I swirled my thumb and forefinger around the head, working in the precum and using it like a lube.

He bucked and swayed, leaning back on his hands so that his feet were flat against the floor and his hips were thrust up and forward, his balls hanging in the air between his thighs and his prick poking up and straight from that thick black nest. I brought my hand up to my mouth and dribbled some spit into the crook between my forefinger and thumb and all over my fingertips, and then returned to working the sloppy wetness around his head and down along his shaft. He bucked and writhed, his stomach caving in as he breathed hard, his legs buckling and knees thrashing together as I worked the sloppy wetness up and down his shaft and then around his balls and along his perinium, returning my hand to my mouth for more spit. His cock was hard and throbbing and his balls retracted and loosened as the pleasure washed through his body.