Strangers at the Coffee Shop Pt. 01

I know this isn't going to surprise anyone or break any new ground but let me just start out by saying that being a mother of two kids under three years of age is fucking exhausting. Hello everyone, I'm Jenny. Five foot six, long straight red hair that I curl for special occasions...not that those come up too often anymore. In college I had some extra weight that getting into running over the last decade has helped me eliminate, and these days I am healthy and curvy, thank you very much. I met my husband about five years ago, we were married four years back, and now we have a two-year-old boy and a three-month-old girl. They are the light of my world, I love them more than anything, and yet I am prepared daily to destroy them for just five minutes of peace and quiet. I'm sure most parents can relate.

I'm always tired.

Between 2 AM feedings, 5 AM feedings, a husband who tries his best but most of the time his best is not quite enough, my job and taking care of the OTHER kid...well, sleep just isn't something I get a lot of. So I do what we all do when we don't get enough sleep. I drink coffee. ALL the coffee. If I knew the name of the first person who thought to roast these beans then grind them and pour hot water over them to make a drink...I would put them up for sainthood in whatever religion they were. Or whatever the equivalent of sainthood would be for them. You get my point. I have my regular place that I stop at all the time. They know my name, they know my order, they know that I do not want to talk to them, or anyone, until I have drank what they make for me, so we have a good routine down. At least we did until Mercedes started working there and threw off my routine. She is one of those bubbly people. Those people who are just cute all day without effort, seem to float on air rather than trudge through life, and just refuse to let one sulk in sullen exhaustion.

She's a chatter.

She's been working there for the last week, and it seems like every time I am in, she is the only one available to take my order. Instead of just keeping her eyes down and punching in my order, taking my money (which I give in exact change as to limit the amount of interaction I have to endure), and giving me my drink so I can go...she wants to talk. Now, when I am my normal self I enjoy talking to people. I'm not a huge extrovert or anything, but I like to chat. But like I said, this time of my life I am most certainly NOT my normal self. My body is still recovering from childbirth, my brain is constantly foggy from sleep deprivation, and I'm constantly grumpy because my husband leaves tasks half finished or unstarted. Part of me wanted to just snap some sort of scathing remark that would make her slink away and teach her that I am not one to be trifled with. But I just couldn't do it to her. She was so earnest and adorable. She just genuinely wanted to know more about me and every time I tried to muster the energy to tell her off, instead I found myself just answering her questions and even continuing the conversation while she would make my drink.

It was after that first week that she invaded my dreams.

So, I believe all our personality traits fall onto spectrums. Like, I may be forty percent introvert and sixty percent extrovert, or ninety-five percent chocoholic, but there is a five percent part of me that will OCCASIONALLY kick in and say things like 'I can't handle any more chocolate today.' It's rare, but it happens. Well, on the spectrum of sexuality, I am primarily hetero...but that doesn't mean I don't occasionally wonder how it would feel to be with a woman. Just once. The old joke goes, 'there's a time and a place for everything, and that's college,' and while that was true for me, I had a lot of other things I had to figure out then, and finding the time to have a fling with a girl just didn't make it onto the list of priorities. After college it was hard enough to find a guy I wanted to see me naked, let alone arrange a casual fling with a woman, so on to the back burner that particular part of me went. So OF COURSE, now that I was an exhausted wreck of a person, constantly tired, never giving more than the most basic of fucks when it came to how I look when I go out, NOW is when my brain decided to pick up the dropped thread of my latent attraction to women and RUN with it.

I dreamt that I was on a pristine beach with white sands and the clearest blue water. I was in a blue swimsuit on a blue towel with a blue sun umbrella above me. Out of the corner of my vision I see Mercedes walk in front of my field of vision. Her petite form was clad in a bright red bikini, her blonde hair in pigtails, floating across the sand. Her lips were the same bright red and as she walks by me, she turns her head to me, lowers her sunglasses, and winks at me conspiratorially. The scene morphs to a cabana on the same beach with a huge bed under palm trees, and she is lying on her back on the bed, slowly undoing the ties to her bikini as I stand at the foot of the bed and watch her hungrily. First she reaches behind her back and unties the string, then slowly slides her perky small breasts free, easing the bikini top over her head and letting it drop next to her.

She slides her hands up along the sides of her body, cupping a breast in each hand, giving them a nice squeeze and pinching her nipples just hard enough to get them to perk up a bit. Her hands slowly slide back down, and one teases along the edge of her bikini bottom, the tips of her fingers just barely sliding under the edge of the bright red fabric. Her other hand reaches across her body and undoes the tie on her right hip, then the tie on her left hip. Wandering fingers creep under her undone bottoms and as she starts to play with herself her entire body arches in pleasure. I watch her fingers circle and rub her pussy, her toes curl in delight as she stimulates herself, her nipples now fully attentive, and then she reaches up and takes off the last thing she is wearing, her sunglasses, and as her eyes lock onto mine, I start to take off my swimsuit as well.

She watches me as I step out of my royal blue suit, and she crooks a finger to invite me onto the bed. The scene shifts again, and instead of Mercedes lying on her back on the bed, that is now the position I see myself in. Mercedes is kneeling at the foot of the bed. She smiles at me, looking adorable and cute as she reaches up to take ahold of my ankles, and slowly starts to spread my legs. Her hands slide up my legs and she leans down to kiss the instep of my foot sending a tingle through my entire body. She kisses my ankle, pecks a trail up my calf, kisses the inside of my knee, then up my thigh, each kiss bringing her closer and closer to where I want her lips to be. FINALLY she kisses the very innermost part of my thigh and my pussy is sopping wet wanting her there...but she bypasses my pussy and looks up at me with a wicked grin as she instead kisses my other thigh, and starts slowly kissing her way back down my other leg.

I watch in agony as she pecks a trail back down to my other foot, each time her lips touch my skin feeling the burning desire inside of me churning into a tempest. She wraps her hands around my feet and pulls my legs even further apart, sliding up the bed between my legs until her lips are once again SO close to where I want them to be, but again they go past my pussy, and now Mercedes is kissing my stomach. Her hands reach up to play with my breasts, and as her fingers brush my nipples they feel like they are on fire. Her body presses against mine as she worms her way on top of me, kissing my cleavage and pressing my breasts against her face, looking up at me with her wicked smile and bouncing my tits against the sides of her face. One of her hands reaches down and slides between my legs, the other hand squeezes my right breast firmly, and just as her lips are about to touch mine...

I hear my child crying and I wake up.

Sorry if you were hoping for a better climax to that story. Join the club. The line starts right behind me. So, I get up, notice that the crying baby has not disturbed my husband in the slightest, and make my way to soothe my progeny, the tingling sensation I had in my dream quickly being supplanted by the harsh realities of a breastfeeding mother. I look at the clock and see that I managed to get a solid three hours of sleep just then, and judging from the fussiness of this child, I resign myself to the fact that those are likely to be the only ones I get that night.

The morning comes, I get ready for work, husband drops off the kids, and I go to get my coffee just like every other day. I walk into my shop and look around to see who is at the desk to take my order. Sure enough, it's Mercedes, and once again she smiles at me, greets me warmly, and asks if I want my usual. I nod, walk up to the counter in the fog of exhaustion and reach into my pocket where I know I have already counted out the exact change for my order. As I hand the money over to her our fingers brush, and for just an instant, I can almost feel that sublime tingle course through my body one more time as it had in my dream the previous night. I realize that she has asked me a question. I have no clue what she asked. I realize I am still holding on to her hand. I let her hand go and mumble something like 'sorry, what was that?' She giggles effervescently and asks me if I was drinking my coffee here or taking it to go.

That's a valid question because I do both, and today I obviously needed the time to sit and caffeinate before going back out into the world, so I told her I would be drinking it here today and went to my normal corner. I was answering a work email on my phone and when I looked up, Mercedes was standing in front of me with my drink, and I noticed something that I hadn't earlier. She was wearing red shorts and her hair was in pigtails. I shake my head gently to clear the cobwebs and ask if she had been waiting long for me to realize she was there. She tells me no, smiles at me once again as she hands me my drink and as she turns and bounces away back to behind the counter I found myself staring at her ass.

I took a sip of my coffee and as the hot liquid goes down my throat I imagine that I can feel each individual molecule of caffeine working its way up from my stomach to my brain and activating the parts that have been put into low-power mode. After a few minutes I look down to see the rambling mess that was the email I was about to send, deleted it and answered with a simple 'yes' instead, and drained the rest of my java. I gathered up my things and stood up when Mercedes called out asking if I wanted one more for the road. On a normal day, I try to just have the one, but then when I realized that instead of answering her, I was envisioning her taking off her shorts, I decided that I could use an extra boost today. I nodded and went back up to the counter, counted out my exact change once again, and again, as I paid for my coffee our hands touched, and I felt my body cry out for something other than the sleep I so desperately craved. I wanted release, but not the kind I could get from my husband. Studies have shown that breastfeeding women tend to lose their libido, mostly as a safeguard against having another kid too close to the one you are feeding. But this was not my normal libido. This was totally different. I felt my face flushing as our hands broke contact and she went off to make my second cuppa. I waited by the counter and when it was ready she brought it to me and I smiled as she gave it to me.

"Sorry I've been so spaced out today. Haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately."

"Well anytime you need a boost, just come on by. You always make my mornings better!"

"I do?"

"Totally! I can see you working so hard while you are SO tired and at first it breaks my heart a little, and then just before you leave, you square your shoulders, stand up straight and tall, and when you leave here you leave confident, powerful, ready to face down adversity. I just admire you so much."

I thought about what she had said, and it's true. I do take a moment before I go, every single day, to get my 'game face' on. It's like getting my coffee is akin to armoring up before a battle, but the battle I prepare for is to be a functional adult through the day. And Mercedes had noticed my little ritual, and somehow it also gave her strength. This time I favored her with a smile, a real and genuine smile.

"Well thank you Mercedes. That really means a lot."

She smiled back at me.

"I hope you have a good day Jenny."

"You too Mercedes."

And with that I turned, squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, prepared to face the day, and walked confidently out the door. For the rest of the day, whenever I wasn't swamped with trying to catch up on the work I fell behind on during my maternity leave, or whenever my mind would wander...it found its way back to that beach cabana...and the lingering sensation of Mercedes' fingers touching mine. I went home after work and returned to the same routine as always. Taking care of the kids, feeding, pumping, cooking, cleaning, putting the kids to bed, and then finally heading to my own bed. As I lay down and closed my eyes, I was hoping I could jump back in to the dream, find myself back on that beach, or at least somewhere with Mercedes, but instead I just lay awake, exhausted yet somehow unable to actually sleep. That lasted until 2 in the morning when the baby woke up, like clockwork, wanting more to eat. I got up, went to tend to her needs, and when she went down about ten after three I finally crashed out.

The next morning I walked through the same haze as always. Constantly tired, constantly busy, no time to take for myself and needing caffeine. I didn't even remember the dream from two nights back until I stepped into the coffee shop and saw Mercedes behind the counter. Remembering my dream made the corner of my mouth turn up in the hint of a smile, but something was wrong. Mercedes was looking off into space instead of her normal flitting about the shop. She had a wistful expression on her face, at least she did until she heard the door open and saw me come in. She screwed a smile on, though I could tell it was a mask, and she welcomed me as she normally would, made sure I wanted the same thing I got every day, and started to make it for me. I paid, but when her hand touched mine to make the exchange of currency, I held on to hers for just a second longer and leaned in close to her.

"It's probably none of my business...but are you ok Mercedes? You look a little down today..."

Her face twitched just a fraction, and she squeezed my hand.

"I'm fine. I guess. My girlfriend moved out last night. I took it kind of hard. Does it show too much?"

I squeezed her hand back.

"I could just tell you weren't your normal self. I'm sorry to hear that. Most people probably wouldn't see it."

"How you can see anything as tired as you are amazes me. Did you get ANY sleep last night?

"A bit. Some nights I dream, but not last night."

"Are they fun dreams or scary dreams?"

"Last one was pretty fun."

"Oh yeah?"

That got an actual grin to creep onto her face, the first semblance of actual happiness I had seen on her today.

"What did your dream man look like?"

It was MY turn to smile.

"Not telling. That would give it away. But it was very nice."

She bounced on her heels a few times and put my money in the register. She squeezed my hand again as she gave me my receipt.

"Well your dream man is a lucky ducky. I guess your husband too for that matter!"

Her infectious giggle circulated around the shop, the few patrons not engrossed in their phones taking a moment to look up at her as she started to make my coffee. As I watched her rock back and forth, dancing to the music in her mind, I thought about what she had said. Was that flirting? Was I reading too much into it? I was still trying to process it all when she turned back around to me and handed me my coffee with her real smile once again adorning her sparkling features. But I was starting to run late, so I made my way to the door, paused to gather myself, and perhaps it was because I knew I had an audience now, or maybe it was subconscious, but set I my cup down so I could smooth my skirt over my ass as I straightened my back, picked my coffee back up and left to face my day.

Work.

Errands.

Home.

Cooking.

Cleaning.

Feeding.

Bathing.

Exhaustion.

Bed.

Sleep...nope.

Once again, I just lay in the bed, too tired to even sleep. When the baby woke up at 1 instead of 2 I just got up and went to her. She was fussier than normal and had a bit of a fever. I stayed up with her all night. When my husband finally woke up I had him take care of her while I took a shower. I just blasted my body with cold water to shock my system into some state of awareness, got dressed, and left to go to work. You know how I was talking about spectrums before? Well, exhaustion has a spectrum too. Most days I was on the functional side of exhausted. Today was not that day. I hunched over the wheel of the car, making sure I was paying attention to my driving. I pulled into the coffee shop, a good half hour earlier than I normally do, and trudged in through the door. Mercedes was there, once again seeming like her normal self. I honestly can't remember much of our interaction, but I decided that I had enough time to sit down at the shop and drink my coffee before I went back out to face the day. I plopped into my favorite chair in the corner and decided to just close my eyes for a few minutes. Then I would have my coffee and head to work. I was NEARLY caught up and then I could have some peace of mind back into my crazy life. Just a few minutes of peace.

I woke up to Mercedes gently shaking my arm. I could instantly tell from the amount of sunlight streaming through the window and the stiffness of the crick in my neck from slumping over that I had taken a bit more than just a few minutes of sleep. I gasped and looked at my watch. It was five minutes till ten. The morning was gone. Mercedes looked at me with panic in her eyes.

"Oh my gawd Jenny! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you come over to the corner to sit down, and then I thought I just missed you leaving, but then it got so busy and I didn't come out to check on things, and now my shift is over and you are still here, and I'm SO SORRY!"

Her hands were fidgety, soothing creases on my sleeve, patting my knee, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it. She had such concern on her face that I was somewhat embarrassed by the fact that the first thing I did was try to peek down her shirt as she leaned over me.

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have let myself doze off. I'll just go in for a half day and tell my boss I had baby issues. He has three kids, he'll understand."

I started to stand up and my legs decided to quit working for me. I collapsed back down into the chair.

"No, what YOU are going to do is to go straight home and get some sleep. You obviously need it. Call that boss of yours and tell him you will be in tomorrow."

"I...I guess...Yeah. I guess you are right. But I am not excited about driving back home on the interstate. It's crazy this time of day. Ugh. But I'll make it."

I started to gather my things up and texted my boss. Mercedes was kneeling at my side now, a contemplative look on her face.

"Well...if you don't want to drive all the way home, you could sleep at my place. It's literally right next door. That's why I got stuck on the early shift, not that I mind it of course..."

She helped me to my feet and took my arm in hers as we started walking to the door. Part of me wanted to protest. Part of me wanted to assure her that I would be fine to just go home, thank her for her concern, and that I would see her again tomorrow. But there was another part of me that wanted, just for a little while, to be taken care of and fretted over the way Mercedes was doing. Part of me wanted to see her place. Part of me wanted to lay in her bed.