Coffee with Maria

Your dreams are filled with naked visions of Natalie, the blonde you assume is Ms. Robbins, and Kelly. You wake up with the remnants of a dream where Dianne lets you fuck her ass. You get up, turn on the TV, and have some Pop-Tarts and a Mountain Dew for breakfast. After vegging out to Sponge Bob for a half hour, you hop into the shower.

After you've washed your body, you start thinking about Natalie from yesterday. She was so hot, and the threat of her husband coming home made it all the more exciting. Soon you are stroking your cock with images of her in your head sucking your member down her pretty throat. You slam your meat into your fist while you imagine face-fucking her. She takes it like a pro, and you squirt your semen on the shower wall. You redirect the spray on the wall washing your residue off. You get out of the shower and dress.

It is now almost 10 o'clock, and you remember your appointment to have coffee with Ms. Mendes. You take the elevator to the first floor and go knock on the door to 1B. You hear footsteps approaching, and then the door opens with Maria standing there in a knee-length skirt and a white dress shirt. Her long black hair shines from the brushing she gives it.

Smiling, she says, "Good Morning, John. It's just 10 o'clock; you are sure prompt. I've got the coffee on now. Come on in." She holds the door open for you as you enter.

"Thank you."

Behind you, she closes and locks it. Then she leads you into the eating nook off the kitchen. The table is cleared off, except for a plate of coffee cake, two mugs, and a sugar bowl and a creamer. You sit in a chair, and Maria brings a steaming pot of coffee from the kitchen. As she pours, you can smell the rich aroma of the beans; she made it pretty strong. You can also see a hint of silky, white bra between the buttons of her shirt as she leans over you to pour.

“Where’s your son?” you ask to make conversation.

“Oh, he’s off to kindergarten until one. Help yourself to sugar and cream,” she says, taking the coffee pot back to the kitchen.

As you spoon sugar into the cup, you continue, “How’s he doing in school? He seems real bright.” Next, the cream goes in, making cloudy swirls in the dark liquid.

“Oh, he’s doing great. He knows all his letters and numbers and the days of the week. He hasn’t quite got all the months yet, but he’s working on it.” She comes back to sit down at the table next to you; she puts lots of sugar and cream in her coffee. As she sipped her hot coffee, her eyes looked over the cup into yours, piercing deep within an internal fire.

You are about to say something when you feel Maria’s foot trace up your ankle, tickling your leg; she must have removed her shoe under the table. Now her foot has traveled up to your thigh, tracing lazy circles on your pants.

“So, what do you do all day? There can’t be that many plugged sinks and toilets to keep your attention,” she says with a wink.