The Long Pull

"Oh." Stella said softly.

Melanie was back in her groove. The tables had turned. She went harder, arching her back a bit and jerking it off right towards her. "Is there anything..." She huffed. "else you want?"

Stella didn't answer. She pulled in her lips like she was trying to hold words in her mouth, lest they escape and cause her embarrassment. Her cheeks grew a bit red at the strain.

And Melanie came.

There was a maneuver that the baristas called "The Cocktail." Named after the 1988 Tom Cruise film about flair bartending, the name was not initially intended as a double entendre. Patti disapproved of the move, and told them not to do it.

The moment unfolded in slow motion. Melanie came, spraying a long rope of come out towards Stella. It sailed at her like an effect in a 3D movie. Stella's jaw lowered involuntarily, sensing the bulls-eye on the center of her tongue.

Melanie jumped forward, swinging the plastic cup out in front of the strand of spunk and catching it in the cup. She brought the cup back in towards herself, the cup briefly pointed downward, the strand of come gathering at the base of the cup.

Zelda caught the move and cheered loudly. Upstairs, Patti held her temple for a moment. She knew exactly what had happened. Maybe she'd yell at them later.

Melanie returned the cup to the upright position and pointed her cock downward and kept filling the glass...

And let the creamy come fill up the glass until the rising level covered the tip of her cock.

They didn't have a name for this move. Patti hated this one, too. Luckily, she couldn't see it.

Once she was satisfied, Melanie pulled the tip out, frosted in white, and walked over to the espresso machine to pull two shots.

"Here we go." Melanie set the cup down in front of Stella. "Anything else?"

"How many times a day do you do that?"

"I prefer not to keep track." Melanie shook her head.

Stella's lips parted and approached the straw, but she hesitated. "Well, thanks for this. What do I owe you?"

"This one's on me, Stella." Melanie said.

"Well, thanks a bunch. Uh..." Stella looked embarrassed. "Do you want to meet up tonight and maybe get some drinks?"

"I can't drink."

"Yeah, it sucks getting older, huh?"

"No, I'm literally not allowed to drink alcohol." Melanie explained. "Someone with a religious restriction on alcohol objected to us being allowed to drink. I told him that alcohol isn't excreted in semen, but... the office came down and said that if we serve anything that's even a teeny bit alcoholic without telling anyone, we could get in trouble."

Melanie paused for a second. "But that's not me trying to get out of hanging out. Just message me on Facebook."

Stella nodded, still not taking a sip. Under the expectant stare of Melanie... she felt that strange sensation of stage fright.

Vanna returned to her counter. "Who's next?" She immediately sensed the different energy between Melanie and the customer. "Who is this?"

"Wow, I see what you mean that the others are bigger." Stella said, looking at Vanna. "Holy crap."

"You know her?" Vanna asked.

"This is Stella. I went to high school with her."

"And you had to jerk it off for her?" Vanna laughed. "That must have been embarrassing."

"Not really." Melanie said.

"I'm glad all my classmates are in Canada. I don't know anyone here."

A man stepped into the shop, a man so tall that he had to bend his head way over just to get into the door. A seven-foot-tall man in a white sweatshirt and jeans, the hood up over his head. He was evidently trying go unnoticed, an impossible task for such a man.

He walked up to Stella. "Hey." He said in his baritone voice. "We almost set?"

Vanna gasped with both her lungs. She hustled around the counter, almost slipping, and ran up to him, panting. "You... you're Vas DiFerenzi!"

"Yes, I am." He confirmed, looking down. "And who...?" He noticed Vanna's bare erection. "Where did you take me, Stella? What is this place?"

"It's a coffee shop with futa waitresses." Stella said. "You said you wanted coffee."

"You like coffee? Let me make you a French Vanilla, please!" She had to clutch her hands into fists so she wouldn't wrap them around him.

Stella pulled on Vas' sweatshirt waist like a child trying to get their father's attention. Vas leaned down and Stella whispered in his ear.

"Oh!" He said, surprised, but not revolted. "Uh, I don't think they'd let me drink that. Who knows if that would come up on a PED scan. Could I just get a plain ol' black coffee?"

"We can do that." Melanie worked on getting that ready.

"Can I just say that... you're the best?" Vanna shook with excitement. "Those one-handed rebounds, and that shot in the 2009 finals in Game 5? That was life-changing."

"Why thank you..." Vas nodded politely, trying not to look. "You really are... my biggest fan, aren't you?"

Vanna laughed hard. "Yeah. I wasn't tall enough to play, but I'm still... blessed."

"I thought I had it pretty good in that department, but... apparently not."

"Can I take a selfie?" Vanna tried not to beg. She was struggling to maintain a 'chill,' as one would say in English vernacular.

"Sure, why not?" Vas said. "I'll take one, too."

Vas kept their faces in shot and avoided showing Vanna's erection in his selfie.

Vanna framed her shot differently, keeping her erection in place and cutting off the very top of Vas' head.

As they left, Vanna swore off coffee for the rest of the day. She wouldn't need it. Her heart was still pounding.

A few minutes later, Vas returned to the shop for just a moment and gave something to Vanna; a signed copy of his book. On the front page, he wrote:

"Vanna,

When you stood next to me, I never felt smaller in my life. Thank you.

-Vas"

At the bottom was a personal email address and a promise of future friendly correspondence.

It took a while for Vanna to calm down after this. Connie had to take the book away from her before she warped it in hands while jumping around.

-

"Could I get a coconut latte?" Asked the latest customer, a larger man of about thirty with a sweatshirt and matching pants. He spoke in a near constant monotone, as if every breath was taxing.

"Certainly." Zelda said. "Connie!" She called towards the sink, where Connie was washing a dish.

"Oh!" The customer looked surprised. "You're not Coconut today."

"Nope, I'm Hazelnut." Connie walked over. "She's Coconut."

"I thought you were always Coconut."

"Nope." Zelda repeated, wondering how he'd gotten that impression.

The customer was silent.

"What's on your mind?" Connie asked.

"I have a request, if you wouldn't mind."

"What is it?" Zelda asked.

The customer looked at Zelda. "Could you... get the Coconut, please?"

Zelda and Connie looked at each other. "Like..." Zelda said, making a jerk-off motion with her fist.

The customer nodded, a little too embarrassed to confirm it with words.

"Absolutely." Connie smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

Connie and Zelda walked around the counter and brought the guy to a seat.

"It's probably better if you do it. I've got those dishpan hands right now..." Connie took a seat across from him.

Zelda stood aside Connie, holding an empty coffee cup and a tin containing lots of dime-sized discs of a slightly off-white color. They looked like pieces of white chocolate shaped into thin wafers to make them melt evenly.

"You know what these are?" Zelda said. "This is cocoa butter. We used to use these when we had a pastry chef, but we don't anymore. So now they're good for snacking..." Zelda popped one in her mouth and chewed it, it melting into a buttery mass in her mouth. "and this."

Zelda palmed a few of them and held them against Connie's cock. Almost instantly, a few yellow-white streams of melted cocoa butter started to run down Connie's cock. "Oh, no, it's melting so fast, because your cock is just so hot." Zelda gathered the dribbles in her other hand and massaged the butter into Connie's cock with both hands until the whole huge thing shimmered like an oiled-up wrestler.

Connie pulled her knees under the chair and rested her hands on her thighs, panting and howling as Zelda ran her little hand up and down Connie's huge cock. "My hands can't even get all the way around it. It's just too big..."

The customer fumbled for his phone. Before he pulled it all the way out of his pocket, he asked, "Do you mind if I film this?"

"Of course not." Zelda said. "Right, Connie?"

Connie groaned in ecstasy, but managed to point both her thumbs upward in an unambiguous sign of consent. The customer activated his phone's video recorder.

"Ooooh, your cock is so delicious and big, I can't stand it." Zelda whimpered. "It's too bad we need every drop of your sweet come, because otherwise I'd suck you off right now in front of everyone."

Connie bucked and shivered under the firm jerk of Zelda's iron grip. Zelda leaned in and teased Connie's balls with her tongue. "Ooh, your balls are so nice." She sucked the orbs against her lips, unable to take it into her mouth completely. "Let me get them all nice and wet." She kept sucking and licking. "Ooh, they're too big to fit in my mouth. You must have so much jizz ready for me. Your balls are so wonderful..." Zelda rubbed her nose between them, in as close to the classic 'motorboating' action as she could do here.

Zelda looked directly at the camera. "Don't you wish you were here? Don't you wish you were the one stroking this huge black cock? This isn't a camera trick or wide-angle lens, I swear. Check it out." Zelda produced another of those novelty rulers, the sudden appearance seeming to alarm Connie.

"See?" Zelda put the ruler aside Connie's cock. "Eleven inches! Same as me. We're cock twins, aren't we, Connie?" She leaned her head over Connie's and lashed her tongue in front of her mouth, swapping strands of spit with each other.

Connie's swarthy cheeks was starting to flush. "Don't you wish you were here?" Zelda asked. "We wish you were here to watch us. Come on down to the Futa Brew and drink the finest flavored futa jizz around. No futa cocks under ten inches, guaranteed! Visit us on Pike Street in Seattle! Exit 2C off of I-90 West!"

Connie clenched her teeth and took the empty cup from Zelda's other hand. She scooted back on her chair, barely getting her cock down in the cup in time to follow a long volley of ropey blasts of come. She fired over and over, falling to her knees from the sudden weakness, as if she'd deflate like a blow-up doll struck with a dart.

The man recorded the entire thirty-second ejaculation spectacle, momentarily forgetting how to zoom in and simply leaning out of his chair to watch ever closer as the spurts became an endless dribble.

And the whole vicinity smelled like coconut.

Connie pulled herself into her seat, her whole body shiny with sweat, her cock still glistening even more. Zelda looked at the customer. "See... that's what you and me have in common." Said Zelda.

The amateur photographer finally turned off his recording. "What's that?" He asked softly. As evidenced by the roll of dimes sticking out from inside his sweatpants... it certainly wasn't that. He really wanted her to put that ruler away.

Zelda put her upturned palm under the still-tricking tip of Connie's cock, gathered a little and licked it off. "We both love coconut."

She returned to the counter with the cup two-thirds full of Connie's jizz. Connie herself hadn't yet recovered entirely. She summoned the strength to raise her head up to ask the customer something.

"Were you going to put that on the Internet?"

"I wasn't planning on it." The customer confessed. "When she turned it into a commercial, I started to think she had the wrong idea. Not like this can go on Youtube..."

Connie waved her hand. "Either way. It'll be fine."

"You sure?" The man seemed to be warming up to the idea.

"Go for it." Connie stood, withdrawing a business card from her breast pocket. She'd written her email on the back of a stack of old ones. "Just get me a copy."

"Here we go." Zelda returned with the completed drink and handed it to the customer.

"Oh, OK." The man had almost forgotten that there was a coffee drink in his future. He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.

"I'll get change." Zelda almost ran off, but the man waved his hand.

"You two can split the change." The man excused himself, trying to keep the bottom of his sweatshirt's zipper over his crotch.

"Thank you!!" Zelda shouted, waving. Once he was out of earshot, Zelda spoke as they walked back behind the counter. "Why should we split this? I did all the work. All you did was have a screaming orgasm."

Connie just rubbed her palm against the head of Zelda's erection, licking the small wet patch off her hand a second later.

Zelda returned to her register, groaning with the strain of her balls aching and twitching in protest. It felt like they were percolating hot jizz inside them, desperate to be released in a grateful paper cup or open mouth. "I'll take who's next!" She cried over the rumble of activity, holding her hand above her head.

The man at the front of the line was a blond dude with dreadlocks that never looked like they could be seen as a good idea, but it was a better idea than that Celtics jersey draped around his skinny body.

She really REALLY wished he would be a Hazelnut latte.

No such luck. "Could I get a Caramel latte?"

Zelda clenched her teeth and tapped it into her register.

He also had a special request. "And... could someone do what you gals did for that other guy?"

The word 'caramel' had got Melanie's attention. While waiting for a credit card to finish processing, she leaned over and asked, "Can that wait until the line's shorter, please? We can only do special requests when there's not eight people in line."

"I can wait." Said the dreadlocked man, taking a nearby seat.

"Of course you can wait." Zelda said. "Watching this hand job will be the closest thing you've had to a job since George Bush was in office. Maybe either of them."

Zelda hadn't said that.

But she had definitely thought it.

The man rolled his watch over on his wrist, checked the time and blew out a sigh.

"No, I feel you, man." Zelda said, for real this time. "It sucks to have to wait. Who's next?"

"Can I get a French Vanilla?"

Zelda whimpered. The rejection felt like a storm was roiling in her scrotum.

She tried not to take it personally.

The other seven orders, not one of them Hazelnut... she took those personally. Each one felt like an already filled elevator was being crammed with two more fat guys. Her cock leaked clear precum like a small river that reached her balls, possibly for the first time ever. When the line finally diminished, the dreadlocked man picked Connie to unleash Melanie's caramel come.

Watching from behind the counter, denied even the pleasure of clasping Melanie's big hard cock in her hand, watching as they both sucked air through their teeth, wondering which of them really enjoyed it more...

"You OK?" Vanna asked, standing to Zelda's left, shaking up her latest creation, watching as the black and white swirled into beige inside the clear cup, the same illusion occurring with Connie's hand wrapped around Melanie's cock.

"I'm just really backed up." Zelda moaned.

Vanna set the drink down momentarily, put her finger on Zelda's chin and brought it up to her lips. Vanna released the kiss, and Zelda pushed in and stole another one quickly.

"That isn't helping." Zelda shuddered.

"I know." Vanna smiled devilishly, bringing her drink to her customer.

Zelda held her temples momentarily. "Can I help the next customer?" She called to the line.

"Can I get a Mint Mocha?"

Zelda smothered a whimper in her lips. "Patti, we need a mint."

"OK!" She called from the window.

In her office, Patti clicked away from her reporting program to the other active window: a playlist of ever-cycling pornography. She held the phone between her shoulder and ear.

"No, you sent us a case of coffee GROUNDS." She continued her phone call while she started masturbating. "We need the beans." A pause. She held the phone away from her ear, rolling her eyes. She brought the receiver back in. "Look, not two months ago, you sent us unroasted beans! So you know we grind our own here. ... No, we don't roast here. We're not that fancy."

A few more seconds of blather from the other end. "Excuse me for a minute. A customer needs me."

She pressed the hold button. She clicked part of the timeline to her favorite part of this particular porn clip. She grabbed a cup and caught her come in it. She didn't wait for every dribble to finish, instead gathering the rest in a handy tissue.

Patti minimized the porn and returned to her document. She picked up the phone with one hand and lowered the cup into a chute near her desk. The minty cup reappeared directly below her office, landing softly onto a pillow.

"Sorry about that." Patti took a little lotion in her hands, foregoing the hand sanitizer. Nobody touched the stuff in her office but her. She picked the phone back up. "Where were we?"

Zelda took the mint-filled cup, pulled two shots of espresso, perhaps a little short, and did something that baffled the man who ordered it: she put in four spoonfuls of hot chocolate mix.

"Wait a second." The man spoke up over the crowd noise. "I'm paying for something that comes out of a box?"

Zelda turned around. "I suppose partially."

The man looked a little suspicious. "Where did the white stuff come from?"

"That was not in a box, I swear." Zelda said. "This was from my boss upstairs. She's Mint today, but she can't always come downstairs. I'll rub one out if you want to watch."

"That's not necessary."

Zelda disagreed with that assessment, groaning. Where were the hazelnut fans to save her from this torment?

"Isn't one of you chocolate-flavored?" The man asked.

"Actually, no." Zelda answered. "Thus, the mix."

"I don't get it. Why isn't one of you chocolate?"

Zelda paused, seeing Melanie come back behind the counter. "Melanie, can you field this one so I can finish this drink? He wants to know why one of us isn't Chocolate."

"OK." Melanie took the customer's attention while Zelda worked on the drink. "I remember when we had the Chocolate implants. We had it for about four months. With all the other flavors, after you leave here, you come once and the next one has no flavor remaining. With chocolate, it was like the next five or six times you'd come, they'd all tasted chocolatey. For the rest of the day, and sometimes, into the next day, that chocolate flavor would just linger. It's such a strong flavor, it had far too much carryover."

"Caramel!" Vanna yelled.

"Got it!" Melanie grabbed a cup and started pounding her cock. She continued explaining, her voice wobbling as she spoke. "Maybe the implants have improved since then, but the other reason why we got rid of it, or at least what the office would have you believe, is that... the chocolate just tasted lousy. It tasted like Cocoa Pebbles, like the cheapest, grossest chocolate. It was..." She strained, her speech stopping and her cheeks flushing as she filled her cup.

Melanie caught her breath. "It was bad. Trust me, this stuff is way better. If you don't like it, I'll give you a refund."

"No, that won't be necessary." The man said again. Zelda finished the coffee and presented it to the man.

"And what's really great about this..." Zelda jumped back in. "Is that there's no crappy syrup settling at the bottom of the mug. It's perfectly mixed, of course, because we made it."

The man accepted it, paid and left. He didn't take a sip before he left. The teasing Zelda was enduring would drive any normal woman insane.