Hang out (er, around) with the punk at the cafe

Tara, the punk, doesn't seem particularly disturbed about you standing around with your cock out in the street. To be fair, she did take it out of her mouth half a minute ago: it's glistening with her saliva. But you remember the slightly skittish glances that the staff and clients at the nearby cafe gave you as you stood bottomless after helping out the redheaded businesswoman, and Tara is looking at you with mounting amusement.

"Right," you say, recovering your composure, and pulling up your shorts and trousers. "Sorry, just coming back to myself. That was an intense exchange with the devout sister over there," you say, nodding to the hippy, who is letting a businessman give her breast a good fondle.

Tara grunts. "What do you think of all that? Do you play with flower girls often?"

You are amused to have the chance to answer honestly. "Do you know, that's the first time I've seen or heard of them?"

Tara looks at you skeptically. "No way, for real?"

You shrug. "I must have had a sheltered upbringing."

Tara raises a blue eyebrow to just under the fringe of blue and white hair draping from the half of her head which isn't shaven. "But obviously not too sheltered... you barely seemed surprised at all when I told you I wasn't going to worship your schlong."

"Well, I have to say that the attention is flattering, but I really don't think of my 'schlong' as being a god. And I have to say that it's a bit weird how women keep talking to it like it can answer their prayers. Really, helping out women who come to me **** for cum really would be enough."

Tara smiles widely at you. "I like you John, can I take a selfie with you?"

You smile back. "So long as you share it with me, sure!"

Tara extends a hand, which you grab instinctively. "It's a deal!" She bends down to what looks like a compartment on one of her boots, which you realise must be a pocket for a mobile phone. "No grabbing the ass by the way," she says.

She unclasps a pocket, pulls out a phone, and pulls it up. She holds it up high and pulls herself close to you, gently squishing one naked breast against your chest. You both smile as she snaps a picture of the two of you from above, showing her lovely breast (and the bold block-letter tattoo above them) clearly.

Tara turns to the cafe. "I could do with a coffee. D'you want to get one together? My treat."

"Just a sec," you say, looking to your phone. You see a message from Carol on Mindr from a minute ago: so sorry missing my bus stop going to be later maybe 30 mins need sugar and can;t wait

"Okay," you tell Tara. "I'm waiting for someone but they won't be here for a while. I'll pay for my own though."

"No no," says Tara, "I insist. Come on John," she says, taking your hand to pull you inside.

The two of you enter the cafe. A barista with black body-paint who you saw before looks up at you with a slight smile, but nobody else reacts much to you re-entering the cafe.

Tara asks what you'd like (a latte) and gets you to grab a table: you get one nearby to the one you sat at earlier while Tara talks animatedly to an equally-naked (albeit professionally body-painted) barista.

After a few minutes of waiting, Tara returns to the table with your latte. She cheerfully sets it down in front of you, and plonks down on the chair opposite, giving you a very clear view of her breasts and nipples. The tattooed warning "THESE DON'T FUCKING BELONG TO YOU" is prominently displayed above her chest.

"So, who're you waiting for?" asks Tara