STEPHEN MOORE POV–– IT'S HER AGAIN

   It’s her again.

You would think seeing her last night, and again this morning would deter me from staring at her so much. Especially since she was in less clothes than she has on now. I look over at her, my hands making her fresh, drip coffee, she’s in a blue blouse that stretches over breasts–– I know how they look underneath the clothes, yet something about her in these clothes make me twitch.

 “Shit!”

My eyes widen in fear and shock, her eyes had been on her phone when she stretched out her hand to accept the hot beverage from me, only skin brushing for less than a second, her smooth skin on mine, making my brain go into overdrive and I spilled the liquid on the same hands that gripped the sheets around her tightly last night, as she waited for an orgasm that never came.

 We both went to bed frustrated. That’s how I knew she was getting macrons with her coffee today instead of cake.

“I’m so sorry.” I murmur, helping her with tissues.

My ears burn with embarrassment as other patrons turn to look at us, me rather, the ones in line wouldn’t want drip coffee this morning.

 “It got on my blouse too.”

Her voice is soft and warm, laced with frustration, I bite my lip, trying to ficus on the situation before my manager would barge in. Yet, my body reacts strongly to her voice, I never heard it before, she usually placed her order on the app, and wait to collect it.

 She mutters something before turning around and walking in the direction of the ladies room, I couldn’t stand there and watch, so I ask someone to cover for me before I hurry after her. She had already slipped inside when I get to the door, and it is the female washroom after all. I bite my lip again, looking left and right, making sure nobody would see me, then I place the hazard sign in front and slip inside.

 “What are you doing in here??!” she asks in horror when she sees me.

All of my words disappear into my throat. She had taken off her shirt… I had seen them before, yet nothing compares to seeing them right now, so close.. so beautiful.. the skin is as milky as the rest of her, smooth and soft too, I imagine touching them, like I have down for the past two weeks.

 “Stephen?!”

That gets my attention. Many times I imagine she called my name, but she has never known my name.

“I read it off your name tag.” She explains, running a frustrated hand through her hair. The movement pulls me back in, and I cannot help myself, I have to turn around. Why isn’t she hiding herself from me? She is too frustrated to know? I turn around then. The only gentleman act in me.

 She gasps, I assume she now realizes she was semi naked in front of a man she only knows as her server.

“I will pay for the dry cleaning, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean..”

“That’s not the only thing you have to pay for.”

I blink, still facing the other side of the female washroom, which I shouldn’t have entered in the first place, what if she wasn’t the only one in here? I don’t really think when it came to Regina Vega, I haven’t thought in weeks where she was concerned.

 “The coffee? I will pay for that too..” Drip coffee is expensive, but the owner, Fred, lets us have a cup or two for free per month, I haven’t had drip coffee yet or my coffee for the month.

 “Not that. You got a good look at my chest just now, didn’t you? I need to do the same.”

This time I whirl around. My face is flaming from embarrassment. She has the blouse placed on her chest, hiding them from my view. I hide my disappointment.

 My eyes cast to my feet, and I fix my glasses that almost slip from my face. Pressing my lips together, i try not to panic, trying to understand her words, surely she isn’t asking to see my chest… and from the set look in her eyes, she isn’t going to change her mind.

“Well? Mr. Stephen, we haven’t got all day.”

There are a plethora of things she doesn’t know about me. Here’s one, nobody has seen my chest, not even at the pool, since I don’t go.. and nobody has asked to see them either. Nobody does when all you do is stay at home.

Slowly, I reach out, my fingers hesitating more than once, to unbutton the standard shirt for the estate’s coffee place. White shirt, green collar, plain, with the name of the establishment crested on the side.

“I never really have time to work out.” I murmur, keeping my eyes on the tiles and swallowing.

She makes an impatient sound at the back of her throat, I still don’t look at her face, the tips of my ears are burning, I can feel it.

 This is a moment I should feel proud of, she asked to see my chest, even if it’s only because I saw her’s first. It’s a giant leap from virgin, yet I feel like I should have something more to give.

 The last button is at the top, since I worked from the bottom, my finger hovers above it for a few seconds too long, because she helps undo the button, and pulls the shirt away from my body.

 I shut my eyes immediately.

“You lied.” she says, a little breathless.

I peel one eye open, and while the scene looks like a dream in front of me, it is real. She is shorter than I am, standing so close to me that my heart starts beating furiously. Her eyes are glued on my chest. I try to cross my legs so she doesn’t know how hard I am right now.

 She looks like she is cataloging what she is seeing in front of her, I know there’s nothing to see. Since I know how muscular the guys she brings back home are, they look like they eat muscles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

 “You are just the perfect size actually.”

That snags my attention and I look down to what she is seeing. I do work out, only a little, since I have little to nothing to do on my off days. Nothing too rigorous..

 “Perfect size?” I echo.

She rolls her eyes and pulls my shirt back to my body, taking a step back and letting me breathe, yet I am disappointed that it ended too quickly, I want to point out that I stared much longer than that, however, I know how that sounds, so I keep mute.

 “Give me your shirt.” she says flippantly.

My eyes bulge from her request. She rolls her eyes again.

“You said you were going to pay for dry cleaning, do it, and bring it to me later, I can’t wait around for it, I have a really important meeting I cannot miss.”

I don’t see how she is going to pair this ugly shirt and her beautiful, and elegant black pants, but I move to take it off. She puts out her hand and stops me.

“Not this one, surely you wore something else, you couldn’t have come in this.” she looks at the shirt like the atrocity it is.

I nod, I wore a hoodie, not sure it would par well with the pants, but it is definitely better than this shirt I am wearing.

“Wait right here.” I tell her before bolting out of the washroom and into the changing room, my locker is in front, something I have always hated since people love to converse right in front of it when I have to change and I can’t say anything.

 Now I am grateful, picking up the hoodie, I notice I am excited. Maybe because the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, the most confident, with a body that makes my body shake with orgasm after orgasm, is going to be wearing my hoodie.

 “I am going to have lunch at Huddlestones, you know Huddlestones?” she asks, lifting her hair up to wear the hoodie she murmured not bad for when I brought it. It’s only a gray hoodie, nothing too much.

I nod, too excited to speak, she is wearing the clothes I wore this morning, just few hours ago, I should have put more thought into picking it out. Yet, it looks good on her, it’s big sure, her boobs are still peaking, yet the curve of her waist is hidden. She makes anything look good.

 She puts the shirt in my hands.

“Two o’clock, don’t be late, and don’t wear that shirt.”