Page 7 of Your Pucking Mom

Silver-streaked hair framed her face, and round glasses fogged up as she used the frother machine. Clad in flowing fabrics and adorned with eclectic jewelry, Cassy embodied a carefree elegance. She was a stickler, but in a way that made you feel like you needed to do better, not in the aggressive fix-it-right type of way.

It was well into the late afternoon, just before closing, and the cafe was relatively quiet. Our clientele was mainly folks from the stadium and the nearby college, so the mornings were the hectic part of the day, a shift I hadn’t quite worked up to yet.

Muttering to myself about the complexity of the espresso machine, I tried yet again to get the machine to work.

Cassy, with a touch of sarcasm, reminded me, “People enjoy their coffees in the late afternoon too, you know.” She was trying to get me to hurry up, and while I was doing my best, the buttons weren’t working today.

“Well, they’ll have to enjoy it a bit slower today. I’m still figuring out the caffeine sorcery with these machines.” I tried to keep my tone light.

Cassy smirked. “Just don’t take all day. We’ve got a customer waiting, and they’re not here for a coffee tutorial.”

Finally managing to pour a decent cup, I handed it over to the waiting customer with a sheepish smile. They said thank you, then left, leaving me to wipe the counters. Cassy shot me a stern look. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually. With the crowd we get from the stadium and the college, we can afford leisurely afternoons, but in the mornings you’ll need to be quicker.”

I sighed. “Working my way up to those. Let’s hope these coffee aficionados appreciate my evolving skills.”

Cassy gave me a reassuring pat on the back. “Keep the caffeine flowing, and you’ll be the queen of the morning rush in no time.”

As I cleaned my station, I looked around the little shop. The space was modest, with only a handful of tables and chairs arranged thoughtfully across polished hardwood floors. The atmosphere was intimate, fostering a sense of warmth and community. A little display case near the counter showcased an array of delectable pastries from a daily delivery from a local pastry chef, adding a touch of artisanal flair to the cafe’s offerings.

The decor of the Jam Cafe seamlessly blended modern elements with an eclectic charm that echoed Cassy’s personal style. Artwork adorned the walls, depicting scenery from the nearby stadium and college, connecting the cafe to its vibrant surroundings. The fusion of sleek, contemporary furnishings was meshed with quirky, mismatched accents.

Plus, Cassy appreciated a good audiobook moment, so when the customers weren’t around, I could pop in my earbuds and listen to whatever smutty romance novel I’d downloaded from the library. I was getting to the good part too. The girl was being ravished by five men who had captured her during a post-apocalyptic moment. I was most definitely not paying attention when the door swung open and the little bell above it alerted us to another customer.

And I most definitely didn’t see the person at the counter staring right at me. I must’ve looked lost in a trance, staring over at the complicated espresso machine while wiping the same spot over and over again, but so many parts were flying, and holes being filled that I was engrossed in my book. Cassy was in the back office closing the register for the day, but a loud cough had me reeling backward and throwing my earbuds out of my ear. They bounced under the counter.

“Shit.” Then I realized the customer was still standing at the cash register. “Shit,” I repeated, hitting myself in the forehead as I leaned down to grab my earbuds.

“Sorry,” I called out. “I’ll be right with you.” I crawled on the sticky ground along rubberized bar mats, trying to find an earbud that blended in with the floor. The earbuds were crucial—an essential escape. They had to be found.

With my arms stretched under the counter, I heard a low cough.

“Are you looking for this?” the voice, masculine toned, asked, and I pushed myself up, hitting my head against the cool metal counter in the process.

“Shit.” Again. I looked around to see if Cassy had seen what had happened, and if she had, then I was most definitely getting fired. Grateful she wasn’t around, I brought my attention to the guy holding my little black earbud in his hand.

“This?” he asked, looking at me with a blank stare. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I quickly checked my clothes. Everything was in place, nothing was in my teeth, and my hands looked clean.

“Yes, thank you so much. So sorry, I just…if I lose it, then?—”

“It’s fine…”

I smoothed down a few stray curls that had fallen across my face, then took a deep breath and tucked my earbuds into the pocket of my apron.

4

ledger

Holy shit.

It was her.

The girl I’d spent the entire night fantasizing about. The woman I thought of as I stroked my cock, wondering if I’d ever see the same bright-blue eyes again. She stood in the coffee shop I came to after every single practice. It was fucking her.

What were the chances I’d see her two days in a row? It must’ve been the world’s way of saying thank you for putting up with the team last night at the dinner.

This had to be a sign. What were the odds she was the new employee here? She eyed me with no recollection of who I was, which had to mean she didn’t know me from yesterday, but I knew the moment I laid eyes on her deep-blue orbs that she was…mine.

Fuck, why was that my first thought?

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