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“Rachel, are you sure you’re okay with cleaning up? Staying up late is bad for your eyes.”
“Yes, Doctor, I’ll be okay.”
Closing shift isn’t exactly the easiest shift at Angels’ Café, but it isn’t all that bad, either. Originally Rachel had volunteered for the task because she didn’t mind doing it, but in actuality, she's the only other staff member who could do it. Gray, the owner and manager, had to open the establishment early the next morning and it was only fair that he got home for a decent night’s sleep. Eddie, the chief pâtissier, had parents who would worry if he wasn’t home by midnight. And Cathy, the barista, was horribly inebriated from the night’s festivities and had to be taken home by the senior waiter Danny.
Although she has school tomorrow, Rachel doesn’t mind staying an hour or two past midnight. Holiday break is a mere two days away and teachers usually refrained from giving too many assignments before the vacation, even in high school. Plus the extra money would be nice. There’s a new sewing machine in the craft store at the mall that she has her eyes on.
Rachel pauses from wiping down one of the tables to give the doctor her full attention. His primary job is a counselor (thus earning him the title of ‘doctor’), but he seemed to be well-acquainted with Gray and assists as a waiter and the café’s bookkeeper in his spare time. She respects him in spite of the odd fixation he seems to have with her eyes.
“Take home whatever pastries you like,” he says, adjusting the arm Cathy has hooked over his shoulder for support. “Throw away whatever’s left in the two large bins in the back.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“And the supply truck isn’t coming tonight so I’ve already locked the back door.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Be sure to adjust the temperature on the fridge before you leave and—”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it; this isn’t our first close, y’know.”
Rachel’s gaze shifts from Danny to Zack Foster, the only other staff member who would be assisting her tonight. Although they are both beneath Danny in superiority, Zack shows little to no respect for the man. Rather, it can be said that Zack has no respect for nearly anyone in the establishment, what with the way he interrupts Eddie during his baking stories and blatantly insults Cathy about her vivacious flirting. In spite of all that, no one seems to hate him and simply chalks it up to being ‘just the way he is’.
As for Rachel, hatred is the last word she’d use to describe how she feels about her senior. When she was first hired, she was assigned to shadow Zack, and gradually, she had come to see him as something more than just a mentor. He’s almost like an older brother, but not quite. He seemed annoyed with her following him around like a puppy, watching him closely whenever he took orders or delivered meals to the guests. But not even a week into their relationship, he went from calling her ‘brat’ to calling her ‘Ray’ when he realized she could pull her weight quite well as a server. There were several shifts where they’d close the café together, just the two of them, and once the café was clean, he’d filch a bag of sugar cookies from the kitchen to share as he walked her home. She’s attracted to him, yes, but Rachel’s always strove to put work first.
Danny snorts, glaring from beneath his glasses. “Zack, behave yourself around Rachel.”
“What do you think I’ll do? Eat her?”
The doctor makes a face that somehow expresses both exasperation and a brief second of bewilderment. In the end the exasperation wins out and he plants his free hand against his forehead before sighing, “You really are incorrigible, aren’t you? Make sure she gets home safely.” Zack shoots him nothing more than a glare, as he normally does when Danny’s vocabulary is lost on him.
“And make sure you lock up,” the doctor adds as he finally opens the front door. It takes him a moment of shuffling to finally get Cathy’s slumped body to comply with his movements. The woman offers nothing more than a burbling laugh as she speaks for the first time in a long while, “Don’t stay too late, you two.”
Rachel responds with a nod and she watches the two adults leave the café. The jingle bells adorning the door signal their departure before all goes silent.
Rachel goes back to wiping down tables, and from the corner of her eye she sees Zack gathering the remnants of their Christmas party —paper cups, crumpled napkins, and plastic silverware— into a gaping black trash bag. It’s a rare thing for the café to be silent, and for the past several weeks since December began, a soft croon of Christmas music could be heard up until closing hours. In retrospect, nearly everything about Angels’ Café changed once December arrived. Hollies, mistletoe, and streamers were hung along every wall, the front and back doors were fixed with jingle bells that tinkled several times throughout the day, and even the regular menus were briefly put away in favor of more festive green and red ones. The staff was also allowed —encouraged even— to add jolly accessories to their otherwise plain black and white attire. (Rachel herself had sewn a tiny dove carrying a holly branch in its beak to the front of her shirt).
The holiday staff party that had ended only an hour prior was one of the new things the season brought as well, and although Rachel wasn’t the most expressive of people, the get-together had been an enjoyable one. There was a Secret Santa gift exchange, party games, and a generous feast of pastries Eddie had eagerly made (and bragged about) for the occasion.
Oh, right, the pastries…
Rachel folds the damp rag and places it aside, deciding that getting rid of the treats should be done sooner than later. She wanders towards a large round table that was moved to the center of the room to hold all of the refreshments. In the center is a large drink dispenser that held fruit punch for Eddie and Rachel (who were too young to drink) and Zack who didn’t care for the bitter taste of champagne. (Or perhaps he wasn’t quite old enough, either. Rachel had never gotten an exact age on him, though she knew for certain he was three years older at the very least).
There’s a latch at the top that must be unfastened and opened for the basin to be filled. Once Rachel clicks it open, she decides one more drink wouldn’t hurt, and it would be a shame to dump it all down the drain. She takes one of the red plastic cups from a stack of unused ones, flips the knob, and begins filling it to the midway point. She steps off to the side and the second she so much as takes a sip, her coworker arrives at the table and begins hoisting up the dispenser to do away with what’s left of it.
She throws out a hand to stop him, but her mouth isn’t fast enough. “Zack, wait, the lid isn’t—”
Something about the scene that unfolds happens so fast yet also in slow motion. It’s too quick to prevent but slow enough to comprehend. A sloshing sound, a wave of a red liquid, Zack’s strangled yelp— Rachel can only watch with her hand still outstretched as Zack gets doused in more than a gallon of fruit punch.
His reaction is swift.
“Damn, this shit is cold!”
In his shock he drops the basin entirely, and whatever is left inside splashes against his lower half as well, staining his pants almost as much as his shirt. They both watch as the dispenser pitifully rolls away, leaving a stream of red liquid, a cube or two of ice, and a few wheels of citrus fruit in its wake.
“…I was trying to tell you, the lid wasn’t fastened.”
“You sure took your sweet ass time, didn’t you?”
Rachel glances over at him. Now that it’s all over, she can fully assess the damage. His dress shirt is completely soaked through with orangish-red wrinkles. His pants, normally black, have somehow gotten even darker and cling to him in a way that Rachel is sure feels unpleasant. The only upside to the entire thing is that he now smells incredibly sweet and citrusy.
Leaving her cup on the table, she makes her way over and places a hand to Zack’s sleeve. He flinches upon the sudden touch and glances over questioningly.
“It’ll stain,” she says, tugging at him. “You should take it off and soak it with dish soap as soon as possible.”
“Yeah? And what am I supposed to wear?”
Rachel considers this briefly. “There should be a spare uniform in the supply closet.”
Zack sighs and Rachel chalks that up to him at least giving her solution some thought. After a few more seconds he tucks his index finger beneath his collar and shimmies his red necktie loose, but that’s it. He doesn’t make any moves to remove his soaked clothes. Instead, he stoops down to collect the upturned dispenser and reaches out a hand for the large trash bag.
Rachel grabs his sleeve again, preventing him. “Zack, you have to do it soon. It’ll stain.”
“I heard you the first time.”
She eyes his back and can’t help but take note of just how delicate the fabric of his dress shirt is. So delicate that the juice has practically made the shirt transparent. She can see the angles of his body, even beneath the layers of bandages he wears. The sharpness of his shoulder blades, the leanness of his torso, even the beginning slopes of his pelvic bones. He’s surprisingly thin, more so than she ever expected, beneath his clothing, though there are bulges of muscle rippling along his arms.
“Isn’t it… uncomfortable?” she asks, unable to take her eyes from him. “Plus, you’re making a mess of the floor. You should take it off.”
Zack falls silent. He becomes motionless, too, no longer attempting to toss away the ice cubes or orange wedges strewn about the carpet. He keeps his back to her as he slowly rises from his stooped position.
“Did you actually… plan all of this?”
She can’t help tilting her head in confusion. He seemed upset just a moment ago, but something about his tone has melted into… amusement, maybe?
Rachel doesn’t move. She doesn’t say anything because she isn’t quite sure what to say. Fortunately for her, Zack speaks first.
“Ray, if you want something, you just need to say it.”
Not only is she unable to speak, she’s also unable to react. At least, not fast enough. Zack turns around, catching her completely off guard when he grabs her shoulder and pushes her to the ground. The panic causes her to throw her arms out, but instead of grabbing anything stable, she takes some of the refreshments down with her. Although she unleashes a yelp of surprise, the carpet isn’t rough when she hits the floor. A platter of sliced cheeses, kiwis, and strawberries collapses only a few inches away, its contents scattering like marbles.
When her vision smoothes, she can see them— Zack’s eyes, twinkling with some kind of mischief beneath the surface. His face is close, radiating a kind of heat that can only be felt from their proximity.
Yes, now she’s certain there’s amusement on his face. Maybe even something deeper than that.
The smell of citrus reaches her nose— an artificially sugary scent that wafts from his lapels and loosened necktie. It isn’t an unwelcome one, rather, the scent is familiar and calms her racing heart just a little. The hand gripping her wrist is covered in damp bandages that have come slightly undone. Loose strips unravel across the floor and she can catch only the smallest glimpse of the darker shade of Zack’s skin beneath them.
Zack is her senior, her mentor, her coworker, but he’s those things only in name. She’s always seen him as something deeper, something much more meaningful than that. It comes in the form of a racing heartbeat when he breathes out that little nickname that only he can call her. Or in the way his eyes glow when he takes her home after their shift ends. Or in the form of that trickster smile he has when he sneaks her cake pops and muffin tops from Eddie’s secret stash of baked goods that the café hasn’t unveiled yet.
Although she tries not to let her fantasies get the better of her, she thinks about him often. She’ll admit, only to herself, that she’s imagined what it would be like to kiss him. To feel his breath against her neck or his hands against her skin. Whenever he says her name it’s enough to make her heart swell and inflate unlike anything else.
They’ve been coworkers for nearly a year, and although Rachel’s tried to put work first, she can see all of the endurance she’s built up is crashing down. Whether she says it out loud or not… whether she admits it to herself her not, there’s always been a need. A need to ensure that his eyes look only to her. A need that his smile, his brightest smile, is always for her.
And a need that his body belongs only to her.
She reaches up slowly, her fingers wrapping around the collar of his shirt before she trails down to the top button.
“Zack,” she repeats, “it’ll stain.”
“Damn, you’re like a broken record.” His laugh sounds more like a breath. “Take it off, then.”
She lifts herself onto her knees, leans over and begins to undo each button, one at a time. His shirt peels open with each button she frees, revealing the bandages he wears underneath. She works silently and undisturbed until she feels the ribbon of her apron begin to unravel.
She flinches and moves away. “Zack—”
“You’ve made one of hell of a mess, too, y’know.”
She follows his gaze down to her lap, noticing that her apron and upper thighs are beaded with strawberry juice and stray shavings of kiwi. She decides that it’s only fair that she remove her wet clothing too and doesn’t put up a fuss. Once he tosses the apron aside, she leans over and undoes the last button of his shirt.
When her hands retract, he immediately seizes her hips as if he can’t stand the idea of them being apart for even an instant. He pulls her to his lap, keeping his hands anchored to her as his lips find her neck. He plants a kiss there— once, twice, before gliding his tongue along her skin, content when he elicits a shudder.
“Ray, if you want something… you need to say it.”
“Z…Zack…”
Close, but it’s not quite what he wants, so he ups the ante. His lips press against the curve of her neck and she tilts her head slightly to allow him more access. After leaving a kiss to prepare the area, he sinks his teeth in slowly.
She elicits a weak mewl as Zack begins to suck. A small pinch, a small tug before it dissolves into a greedy flurry.
She jolts, wincing, but his hands at her hips keep her anchored. It starts as a stinging sensation before melting into an ache. She can feel herself getting hot— a coiling feeling between her legs begins spooling out, sending thunder strikes through her body.
Instinctively, she sways her hips back and forth, ghosting herself against his pants. The movement is subtle at first, barely noticeable from the smallness of it, but it sparks curiosity and, more importantly, desire. She presses down, a bit firmer, and rubs against his heat.
He makes a noise —something between a moan and growl— that comes out only slightly smothered from him kissing her neck. The more her hips sway, the more she can feel him, even through the fabric of his pants.
Her breaths come out in short, forced puffs before it all becomes too much and the heel of her palm finds his chest to weakly push him away. There’s so much rushing over her at once: waves lurching around in her stomach, a tornado blowing through her chest, skin flushing with heat. Her head is spinning with half-thoughts that can’t be fully formed because there’s so much vying for her attention. She ceases her own movements and struggles to take an even breath.
Taking notice, Zack pulls away. His fingers comb over the hair that’s fallen into her eyes, brushing it aside so he can fully enjoy the havoc he’s wreaked over her features.
“Tired already?” He kisses her full on the lips and laughs almost teasingly.
It takes a few moments before her body relaxes enough to a level that she deems satisfactory. Instead of answering him, she lifts a shaking hand to the throb in her neck and caresses the area with hesitant fingers. “You left a mark…”
“I’m about to leave a hell of a lot more in a second.”
His hands find her hips once again, effortlessly lifting her from his lap and placing her flat on her back. He snatches the red ribbon tied to her uniform and tosses it aside before grasping at the front of her shirt with both hands. With a yank the buttons pop undone, one after another, and her shirt falls open to reveal her shivering skin.
She gasps as her skin is introduced to the cold air before sucking in her stomach, causing her ribs to press outwards. Her racing heart causes the entire front of her body to rise and fall anxiously. Zack lowers his lips to her ribcage and first gives it a kiss and then a lick before gliding his tongue downwards. He can feel her shiver beneath him, so he whispers into her skin, “You’re really sensitive, aren’t you?”
“That’s because— aah!”
“Hmm?”
“B-Because—”
“Didn’t you plan all of this?” he asks softly. “That’s pretty devious of you, Ray.” He’s started using his teeth again —nipping at the skin around her navel, nibbling on her hipbone— before he decides there’s a different area he’d like to explore. As he plants kisses along her ribcage, his hand sweeps under her bra to cup her breast. She freezes up instantly.
Despite the bandages, she can feel just how warm his hand is against her. That sensation clashes with the coolness in the air and she quivers even more, knowing immediately that her nipples are starting to become hard.
“Zack… please…”
“Yeah, I get it. You want some attention here now, huh?”
The hand at her breast gives a slight squeeze before slipping her bra up to fully expose her. Her eyes squeeze shut, mostly out of embarrassment and a sudden wave of prudishness. But in the moment when her eyes are closed, something strikingly cold touches her nipple. The offending object is both cold and wet, and when Rachel’s eyes fly open, she sees Zack is holding one of the orange wedges from the dispenser to her skin.
He gives the fruit a gentle squeeze, allowing its juice to trickle onto her skin and ghost down the small curve of her breast. The sensation is cold against her skin, and if there weren’t goosebumps along her arms before, they certainly appear once Zack’s mouth finds its way to her nipple and gives it a gentle suck.
She shudders against his touch— not out of objection but from unfamiliarity. The way his tongue moves, laving against the erogenous zone before pressing his lips around the bud and suckling it. His right hand fondles her other breast with soft squeezes, occasionally interrupted by rolling the nipple around between his thumb and index.
Everything in her is beginning to heat up, to spiral in odd, tumultuous circles that make it unable for her to sit still. Something inside tells her she must hold on to something, so she threads her fingers through his hair and moans into his touch.
Although he had accused her of leaving the dispenser top unfastened, she hadn’t done it on purpose. None of this was planned. But if this was the ‘punishment’ he planned to dole out, she would accept every drop of it.
She pants his name as he removes himself from her small breasts and trails down her abdomen before stopping at the hem of her skirt. Wordlessly, he takes hold of the hem with both hands and tugs away her skirt as well as her panties in one fluid movement. Rachel puffs out a sound of alarm, but when Zack looks to see her reaction, her expression isn’t a negative one.
Those blue eyes of hers are half-lidded, blurry with desire and intrigue and pleasure while a single strand of blond hair clings to the edge of her small lips. Her eyes never leave him. She watches him, waits for him, not pushing away nor retreating.
Zack can’t help but smile.
“Dammit, how am I supposed to hold back when you look at me like that?”
Sorry, Danny… Maybe I really will eat her.
He doesn’t waste a second. In fact, something seems shockingly primal in the way he grabs both of her legs and hauls her towards him. His thumbs rest against the soft skin of her inner thighs, and, only because she’s nervous and unused to it all, she freezes up. Zack considers this fair; he doesn’t mind guiding her.
“Spread your legs for me.”
Rachel nods, letting out a small affirmative noise, and shyly obeys.
It’s not as if he’s ever had sex before, so everything he’s doing is spontaneous. Whatever he chooses to do to her, he does it because that’s what his brain is telling him to do in that moment. It’s an added bonus that they both seem to be enjoying themselves. And besides, as her senior, it’s not as if he minds taking the lead.
The folds of her entrance are flushed and soaked, practically dripping with the anticipation that’s been building steadily for the past several minutes. She trembles under his gaze and averts her own. Something within her stomach recoils from embarrassment, but her mind is sharp like a spear, eager, almost begging, for him to satiate the heat that’s been spiraling out of control inside her.
Zack swipes his tongue along his thumb, clearing away the tangy remnants of the orange from earlier before deciding his bandages are far too wet to wear comfortably anymore. Peeling a decent amount away from his index and middle fingers, he slowly sinks a finger inside her.
“A-Ah!”
“Shit, Ray, you’re this wet already.”
Because her eyes had been closed, she was caught off-guard by his touch. But it doesn’t feel bad. At first he keeps his finger shallow, slowly exploring the walls of her immediate entrance. Her body is warm, but the inside of her is even more so. He caresses her, massaging the area with long, lingering strokes before turning those movements into a back-and-forth probing motion. Without thinking, her walls tighten around him, and that sensation alone causes a massive stirring within his own pants.
If it was entirely up to him, he’d already be fucking her senseless. With a hint of mischevious delight, he imagines being balls-deep inside her, pounding her, plowing her, ramming her pussy as hard and fast as he possibly can. He can hear his name on her tongue, begging, pleading, panting, screaming— all for him. Only him.
But she doesn’t seem quite ready yet. Close, but not yet. He wants her body to crave him. To yearn and demand him. He wants to hear her say it. It’s taking a hell of a lot of self-control he never knew he had to keep himself from plunging much more than his finger inside her. Suddenly, another one of those heated thoughts enters his mind, so he decides to act on it.
Pulling out his soaked index finger, he brings a second finger to her entrance. Instead of slipping both inside, however, he uses them to spread her opening and meets her entrance with his tongue.
Her breath hitches and her legs almost give way. “Zack, you’re—”
“Just sit back and enjoy, Ray.”
She bites her lower lip and stifles a moan, but nothing in her can complain. She wants this.
The feeling of his warm tongue gliding against her walls, flicking against her inner lips, is intoxicating. Once again her fingers find his hair, but this time her desperation spills out. She can’t keep a firm grip on him— everything feels fuzzy and strange. The sensation between her legs is spasming out of control and it collides roughly with the softness that coils between her fingertips. His hair is remarkably soft, featherlike, and smells somehow like powdered sugar, probably from that evening’s festivities.
Zack’s tongue continues swirling inside her, poking and prodding and exploring her before it suddenly curls upwards upon her clit. That movement causes her to cry out, to recoil inwardly while her hips buck against him.
“Zack! Again… please.”
“Oh, you like that?”
She nods eagerly, so he complies, brushing his tongue against the sensitive bud again. He can feel her arching her back into him, pressing herself closer to that tongue that’s slowly breaking down everything that’s whole within her. He laughs inwardly and continues slipping his tongue and in out of her in a delicious rhythm before flicking against her clit.
He hadn’t any kind of expectations of what she’d taste like, but her flavor is sweet, otherworldly, and in heavy supply. He can’t give a name to its flavor, only because there isn’t anything he can compare it to. But her folds are velvety, soft, and slippery, so he can’t help but think of the butterscotch pudding Eddie made for the party. Butterscotch. Yeah, that sounds about right.
He moves his tongue in circles inside her. Her insides have become tingly and drenched with her natural juices, so he fully intends to savor as much of it as he can. Each time his tongue enters her, there’s a swarming, swelling heat that clamps around him, eager to keep him there but also just a tad sturdy against him. It was always in the back of his mind, but now he’s completely certain that she’s a virgin, too.
Zack only becomes satisfied when Rachel’s pleads and moans become so erratic that she can no longer speak. He pulls away from her, eyes twinkling as he licks every last remnant from his lips.
Her breath is a scramble of soft wheezes and exhausted puffs after he pulls away. Even Zack can’t speak immediately, both from the strain of the activity and the overwhelming pleasure that came from it. He wipes his mouth with the back of his palm, but before he even has a chance to speak, Rachel lifts herself from the floor and grasps the waistband of his pants.
A flash of confusion scrambles across Zack’s features, but her blue eyes are trained steadily on him. Even after all of the stimulation she’s received, she still manages to hold his gaze unbrokenly. He can’t help but find that resolution, that fire she has, incredibly alluring.
“Zack,” she says, and her voice actually comes out steadily around her panting. “I want to pleasure you now.”
“Huh?”
“Please?”
Although she’s asking, she isn’t isn’t quite allowing him the chance to confirm or deny. Her small hands are already at the waistband of the trousers that are still fragrant with the smell of citrus from the earlier spill. Without missing a beat, she unbuttons him and slides his pants down to his knees. Her eyes never leave the sight of the bulge beneath his boxers.
She can’t help her intrigue. Because of school, she’s learned about sexual health and wellness, but coming face-to-face with the concepts she’s seen only in textbooks leaves a spark of curiosity burning inside her mind. That curiosity drives her to brush her fingers against it, tenderly at first.
Zack stifles; Rachel notices.
She glances up at him with her wide blue eyes, a new innocence brewing within them. “Did that hurt?”
“Nah. I didn’t expect you to be so… forward, that’s all.”
She isn’t sensing nervousness from him, but it isn’t as if he’s brimming with confidence, either. She assumes he’s just as new to these experiences as she is, and that thought both calms and enthralls her. She’s always looked up to him, and the idea of being the first person to touch him like this, to share his warmth and his intimate attention makes her feel nothing short of exhilarated.
Her breathing has completely calmed down, so she begins slipping his boxers down as well. Something inside her flutters rapidly like a flame that’s just received a gust of wind when she actually sees his cock. It looks exactly how she’d expect it to look (thanks to the textbooks) yet not at all how she’d expect it to look (because it’s Zack’s and not some lifeless hand-drawn render). Like other areas of his skin, it’s mottled and blemished. There are thick veins coursing along the shaft and the tip quivers with precum and anticipation.
Rachel decides that she likes this part of him, too.
She places a hand to his chest and guides him downwards until he’s propped up on his elbows. Although she’s the one who said she wanted to pleasure him, she doesn’t quite know what will do the trick. It isn’t as if they taught such things in sexual education. But if he could pleasure her with his mouth, perhaps she could do the same.
Her index finger traces along the shaft with ghostlike gentleness as she acquaints herself to the feel of it. The skin is rough in some areas yet soft in others (an aftereffect of the burns he’s suffered, she’s sure), but all of him is so alive. He twitches against her touch, veins throbbing, warmth hazing. She curls her small hand around him and begins stroking the area, back and forth.
His breath hitches and she can hear him hiss out a curse, but she knows it isn’t because the feeling is unwelcome. In fact, if the spurt of precum that shoots out is anything to go by, it’s the exact opposite.
She turns her attention to the tip and rolls her thumb around it, and instead of a stifled moan or vague curse, Zack actually whines against her. The sound is so unlike him, almost needy, that it makes her chest swell. Zack can be incredibly cute at times, too.
“Is this good, Zack?” she asks him, though he knows she’s already aware of the answer. Now that she’s not the one at his mercy she’s getting a bit cocky. Doesn’t matter, he finds that alluring, too. So much so that a grin spreads across his face,
“You know damn well it is.”
She seems satisfied by this answer, and a small smile plays at her own lips as she continues stroking him. She caresses the slippery underside, sweeps her whole hand against the edges, even massages the balls at the back. Gradually Zack descends into a collection of heavy and sharp inhales.
“Fuck— that feels good.”
She decides, that while his head is tipped back and his gaze is far-off and hazy, she’ll surprise him the same way he did to her. Keeping her hand gripped around him to keep him steady, she lowers her face between his legs and glides her tongue along the tip.
Instantly he shudders, taken aback by the sudden change in activity, before his eyes fly open and he jerks his head down to look at her. “Ray—”
“I’m going to make you feel good, too, Zack.”
It’s all she says before rolling her tongue along the tip. The sound Zack makes (something of a gasp mixed with a yelp) is all the evidence she needs to know that she’s found his most sensitive area. She plants a kiss against his heated skin and that elicits another whine, causing Rachel to take a mental note of it. He seems to enjoy being kissed down there.
However, she doesn’t want him to get used to the touch yet. Rather, there are many ways she wants to pleasure him before giving him exactly what he wants.
Rachel pulls away briefly, deciding to entertain a thought that entered her mind in that exact moment when the smell of citrus hit her again.
Her free hand grasps the can of whipped cream from the refreshment table and she has a fleeting memory of the brownies and cakes it had adorned earlier. Giving it a quick shake, she pops the cap and sprays a generous amount along the shaft. Zack watches her, a bit amused to say the least.
“Am I some kinda dessert now?” he asks, giving voice to her thoughts. The girl simply nods as she places the whipped cream aside and murmurs, “I like sweet things.”
She licks at the head, coating the edges with her saliva before rolling her tongue around and lapping at the underside. The sugary clouds of whipped cream melt instantly into her taste buds before being replaced by a tangy flavor. A delicious collaboration of sweet and sour. And because she’s so caught up in everything she sees and smells and tastes, she presses on further, eager to relish all of it.
Zack presses his teeth into his bottom lip, feeling tidal waves of pleasure hit him. If that wet tongue of hers wasn’t already good enough, the moments she takes to exhale hot breaths against him makes it all the better. He can only keep his eyes open for so long due to the intensity of emotion that hits him, but when they are open, his pulse races at the sight of her.
It’s almost too much for him.
Those brilliant blue eyes are closed beneath her long, black eyelashes as she locks herself behind such intense focus. Her cheeks are cotton-candy pink against her normally pale skin, and that tongue —so red and warm— flickers up and down tenderly.
She’s making quick work of clearing away the cold cream she’s sprayed onto his skin. But rather than some kind of pastry, he can’t help but think that she’s treating him like a lollipop instead. She’s setting off fireworks in his body. His blood is on fire and his very spine shivers beneath this girl’s touch. She isn’t experienced, yet every action, every movement, is sending him spiraling.
“Ah— fuck fuck fuck.” He clamps his teeth together as a grunt rakes across his throat.
Rachel doesn’t clear away all of the cream. She doesn’t want to spoil her appetite, so she’ll save some for a snack later. Instead she opts for using her lips to press a few firm yet light kisses against him. She starts first at the tip, giving it a massaging kiss before making her way down the shaft to taste more of his sugar.
His breath stutters now, so Rachel draws her head away from him, a thin strand of saliva following as she moves back. She tilts her head, trying best to decide how to tackle the new idea that’s come into her mind before she realizes that there’s no way to know without experimentation.
As with everything, she begins cautiously.
Slowly her lips part as her mouth delicately envelops the head of Zack’s cock. He groans against her, but she barely hears it beneath her thick fog of focus. She purses her lips around him as she glides her mouth along to swallow more of his length. Citrus, cream, and another sour, unfamiliar scent hit her, but it’s like a drug that spurns her on.
His body is trembling now. He breathes thickly beneath her touch, voice getting caught within his throat as he struggles to let some of that pleasure escape his mouth. She can feel his hardness against her mouth, leaking its juices, and if he wasn’t erect before, she knows for certain that he is now.
She isn’t quite sure if, compared to others, Zack is big or small, but from the way he fills her up, she can assume it’s the former. Suddenly, she can feel his eyes on her, and just as she looks up, he runs a hand through the locks of her hair. He combs her bangs back to keep them from getting in the way. His heat throbs within her mouth as she guides her way into swallowing more, but never more than she can take. She wants just enough to keep her mouth full and productive while still having a challenge up ahead. She keeps her eyes on him as she consumes more and more of his dick.
That loving look she’s giving him. That unbreakable serenity in those blue eyes is too much that he can’t help but melt into her touch. He’d even melt into those eyes if he could. All he wants right now is her, and in that moment he feels like that’s all he’ll ever really need. He’s never told her he loved her. Those three words always seemed forbidden— like something far away and untouchable. But right now he wants to tell her. Holy hell he wants to grab her by her shoulders, bathe her in his lips, tell her that he loves her, that he needs her, that she belongs to him and no one can lay a fucking hand on her.
He wants to tell her all of those things, but his mouth won’t comply and his brain can’t catch up. All he’s left with are curses that come out half-formed and incomprehensible.
He’s trembling because fuck, what is she doing to me? and why the hell does it feel so good? He can feel his hips rolling forward as she becomes greedier in her thrusts. She’s taking as much of him in as her inexperienced mouth can handle— but even what she can take is already so much for Zack that he can barely keep up. His brain is a savage, chaotic swirl and when Rachel pulls away to begin suckling at the sensitive tip again, he just about goes over the edge.
His body flies up and he shoves her away so swiftly that her vision blurs for a brief second.
Not yet. He doesn’t want to release just yet.
He snakes his hand beneath the back of her legs, picks her up, and places her flat on one of the tables. Rachel is confused for a moment, but her heartbeat is racing. The deeper, innermost part of her knows what’s coming next.
“Ray, are you still wet down there?”
She bobs her head, almost mechanically as she’s still taken aback by the swiftness of his movements. Although, yes, she is still slick, she can’t help but feel like it’s not quite enough to be penetrated for the first time. Thankfully, Zack seems to be able to read this from her expression.
He doesn’t have lubricant (she wouldn’t expect him to anyway), but instead of using saliva as she thought he would, he grasps a bottle of honey used for the pancakes on the refreshment table. Popping the cap, a generous supply coats his fingertips, and he pushes them inside her again, scissoring against her folds and expanding her entrance.
Once again, his warmth causes her to melt beneath his touch. She moans into him and her stomach begins to twitch and recoil. “Zack…”
“Hey, Ray, I need you to do something for me.”
Her eyes, half-lidded, open entirely in surprise. She can barely keep them that way for long, however, as his fingers don’t stop probing her, coating her walls with that liquid sweetness.
Her voice comes out as a breath. “What… should I do?”
“Desire me.”
She blinks at him before biting back a gasp at a particularly strong thrust of his fingers. Those words cause a certain warmth to envelop her down below, and she can feel herself becoming wet once again.
He leans down into her, his lips hovering over the love mark he left earlier as he murmurs into her skin, “Who do you want kissing you?”
“…You...”
His fingers pinch lightly at her clitoris as he plants a kiss against the swollen area of her neck. “And who do you want leaving marks on you like this?”
“—A-Ahh, you…”
“Yeah? And who do you want inside you right now?”
“It’s you, Zack! I want you! Please…”
He pulls away from her, just enough so he can look into those eyes, to drown in them for just one quick moment.
“I hear you loud and clear.”
A thick layer of golden honey is squeezed onto his cock before he positions himself against her opening. Rachel’s breathing hitches and slowly she can feel it. The tip of his cock pressing into her, pushing past her walls and squeezing into a deeper, more tense fabric of skin.
She bites her lip and makes something of a mewl at the pain. It’s almost like a stab, but its followed by such a sinful warmth that she doesn’t want it to go away. Her walls naturally retreat, allowing the foreign object to penetrate her, before they swarm around to keep him in place. He grunts at the tightness and it feels so much like she’s teasing him— even if it’s just her body’s natural response.
He waits a couple of beats before pushing himself in further. She cries his name, balls her fist, and places it at her lips as if to stifle some of her noise. There’s still pain, but it’s thawed into an ache.
His hands dig into her thighs as he shoves the rest of himself inside. She swallows him whole, though she can’t help the yelp that escapes or the whimpers that follow. That only serves to excite Zack’s cock even more, but he doesn’t want to drive her away with discomfort.
She’s smaller than him, obviously, girlish and delicate in many ways. And although he wants to break her, he doesn’t want her to be beyond repair. He does love her, after all. The experience needs to be a good one for both of them. He pauses to give her a moment to get used to it, and in doing so, he leans in and kisses her tears.
“You took me all in. Good girl.”
The praise causes her to moan into the crook of his neck. He plants another kiss at her throat before traveling up again to her gasping mouth, wanting to taste every noise she makes.
“You feel so good, Ray.”
Her eyes, initially squeezed shut, finally open again and she swallows thickly. “Zack… I think I’m ready. You can move now.”
She doesn’t have to tell him twice.
There’s an instinct in him that’s always been primal, vicious, and even monstrous at times. In this moment, it’s taken the form of a dark whisper that tells him to wrench open her thighs, plunge himself as deep and as far in as he can go, and claim her. To ram against her insides, engulf himself in her heat, and make her scream for him. That instinct has been silenced several times over the past hour, but at long last he can remove the inhibitor he’s so patiently kept on it.
He rocks his hips forward, drawing his hard cock into her folds before retreating just as slowly. Those movements gradually take on speed, and before he knows it, her pussy is wet enough to allow him to pull in and out, but tight enough that it clenches around him with each forward thrust.
He rubs against her firmly, pressing against nerves and sending delicious rippling sensations across her body. Her whimpers become more like breathy, needy gasps, and her hand falls away from her mouth to steady herself against the table. Her mind is crowded with so many thoughts, but among them is the pleasure, the sheer delight as she remembers his praise. Zack’s inside me. All of him. Every last inch.
“I-It feels good, Zack. So good!”
“Yeah, me, too.” It’s all he can bite out as he pumps into her welcoming pussy. His hands are anchored steadily against her, but that monstrous instinct demands more. He presses his thumbs into her inner thighs and pushes them open as far as they can go. Rachel, noticing his intentions, snakes one of her hands down, curves around the back of her thigh, and pulls her entrance wider. She holds herself open, and it only takes a second for her to feel the difference.
His cock gorges on her gaping pussy, swelling so it fills the newly added width. It demands every last inch of her. He wants her to feel all of him the same way he feels all of her.
Rachel wants the same thing. With a shaking moan, she relaxes her lower half as much as possible, eager to swallow his penetrating cock. She wants him to fill her, to overwhelm her, to push her past her limits and expand her. There’s a small desire for him to break her— to punish her pussy so completely that she’ll never be able to forget the taste of him.
“Faster, Zack. Please.”
Invigorated by her pleading, his hips become more brazen. All inhibitors have fallen away now as he rams into her repeatedly. The thunderous jolts of the table add their own allure to the situation. That, combined with the sticky sounds of him milking her pussy and the rushing smells of honey and cream and sweat send his emotions into overdrive.
“Tell me what you want, Ray.”
He says this, but it’s obvious. He can feel it in the way her insides pulse and tremble around him erratically. In the way those deep blue eyes appear both innocent yet desperate for all of him. In the way her lips open and close as if she whispers a silent prayer to be sent to a heaven that only he can lead her to.
“A-Ahh, Zack, it’s so good! You feel so good.”
“I told you before, didn’t I? If you want something… you need to say it.”
She’s overtaken by her moans for a moment, but she eventually steadies herself enough to fix those teary blue eyes on him.
“Fuck me, Zack! Don’t stop— please don’t stop.”
There it is. He’s been waiting for it oh so patiently and now he’s received his reward. To hear her say it, with her own mouth. To hear her admit that she wants him, craves him, desires him. It’s better than anything he could’ve imagined.
“Harder, Zack. Please don’t stop!”
“Heh, I don’t plan on it.”
Now he’s fucking her just the way he wanted to all along— hard and fast, roughly and wildly because she’s begged him to do it. She’s begging him even now, whispering her pleads into the air as she takes his cock’s abuse. With every slam she can only reel under the waves of sweet pleasure that crash over her.
Those delicious noises only serve to stroke the flames and spur him onward. His ears capture every one of her gasps while his brain catalogs every time she moans his name. He’s slowly undoing all her knots, untangling every inch because it all belongs to him now.
He takes a quick moment to survey her. To really, truly see what he’s doing to her. Her entire body is flushed, quivering, and beautiful beneath him. Her blond hair is sprawled out around her, her small lips open and gasping, and her small breasts with their candy-pink rosebuds bouncing in time to his thrusts.
He decides it’s time to reward her.
With a slight shift, he propels his hips and thrusts into her sweet spot.
She inhales sharply and breathes out. “Zack—”
“Say my name louder. Beg for it.”
She arches her back, desperate to feel all of his thickness against that sacred spot again. “Zack— Zack, please!”
Even if he tells her to beg for it, he’s going to give it to her anyway. She’s made him feel so good that he couldn’t keep himself from giving her the same treatment even if he wanted to. His cock writhes inside of her, plowing through her to that spot that makes her squeal. Her fingers falter against the table that she’s made her anchor, but that only serves to make Zack grip her tighter.
Rachel peers down to watch his cock repeatedly thrust in and out of her. The sight is so erotic that it becomes impossible to keep herself quiet.
“Just like that. Mmf— aah!” She bucks her hips into him wildly. “Please, Zack, I need it!”
“Nng— and I’m gonna give it to you.”
He completely loses track of how hard he thrusts into her. Her request is captured in his brain as an insistent pulse that drives him to fuck her harder and deeper and rougher. She likes the sharpness of it all— her body desires it. This is who Zack is— it’s who she’s always known him to be and she loves it. To feel him pumping against her so roughly, exchanging breaths with hers, entangling his body with hers… she can see herself quickly approaching the crescendo.
It doesn’t seem possible, but he gradually becomes even thicker inside her. His cock prods at her walls, pushing her further than what she thought possible with every hot thrust and drag. It’s enough of a sign that he’s getting close, too, and now Rachel begins to desire something different.
Zack feels so good, but even more than wanting every inch of him, she wants every drop now. The desire causes her hips to roll in time with his and her insides to eagerly engulf him to the touch of his balls. She mewls when his lips find hers again and when he whispers into her skin, “I’m almost there, Ray.”
“M-Me, too.”
Her body begins to tremble, but the worst of it is in her legs as they strain between absorbing more pleasure and expelling it. Zack holds her steady, keeping her legs wide open so she can feel every last inch of him until the end. He knows his breaths are becoming frantic and dry, but that’s the least of his worries. His mind is preoccupied only with the thought of reaching the peak and then spilling over the edge.
“Z-Zack— Isaac!”
He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, so deeply that he can nearly taste copper just as Rachel throws her head back. Her insides clamp down on him so tightly that they very nearly restrict all movement and her body explodes with shivers.
Rachel can feel her mind go white and everything but the feeling of this newfound heaven embraces her. Zack’s name sinks into her mind and out from her tongue. Her body shudders for several seconds and her voice drains the last of its sounds. She only returns from this blissful state when she feels Zack’s hard cock press within her clenched folds to graze at the deepest part of her.
Her tremors, her tight heat, and her screaming his name are the last ingredients needed to force him over the edge. With a grunt and one final thrust, he also ascends into oblivion. His cock pulsates before oozing out a thick load. He braces his hips to catch his breath before releasing a second, slightly smaller deposit, and then finally a third.
His grip on her has weakened from exhaustion, but his fingers still press into her as he gives her every drop. Rachel whimpers with each release, arching her back far from the table before she can’t take anymore and collapses back down. She pants raggedly, her eyes becoming slits as exhaustion sinks beneath her skin.
Her voice comes out shaky and almost child-like. “Did I… do good?”
Just as spent, Zack can barely move, but the desire to be close to her spurs him forward. He kisses the love mark he made earlier as he murmurs, “Damn right, you did. That was fucking amazing.” He lifts himself so he’s above her now, nearly nose-to-nose so he can be near to those perfect blue eyes. “You’re fucking amazing.”
He captures her lips and she’s immediately driven to give him every last vestige of her sweetness. When they part, he lifts himself away and slowly pulls out. She’s gotten tight again, just like in the beginning, and the sensation is a bit painful now that her body is overly-sensitive. With a whimper she watches as a creamy trail of semen dribbles out from her, and she almost swears there’s a glitter of honey among it, too.
Zack disappears from her immediate vision to collapse on the floor. Rachel can hear him panting just as much as she is, although she can’t quite see him from where she lays. Her eyes flutter closed so she can steady her breathing, only this time, it takes her several long minutes before she opens them again.
Once she reopens them, she lifts herself slowly and pushes off from the edge of the table. Her legs are quivering and she has to take a few breaths before she can even take a step forward. Her body feels like gelatin and there’s a dull ache in her lower body as it still remembers the strain of being filled to the brim.
Zack seats cross-legged on the floor only a foot or two away. His dress shirt is still unbuttoned and his tie discarded, but he’s already slipped his trousers and boxers back on since they seem a little less damp now. He clutches a wad of paper towels that are thick and sticky with the evidence of their activity.
When he looks up, he trains his golden eye on Rachel, trying to gauge how well she can manage. He doesn’t stare for long, however. She wobbles, almost stumbling, and is unable to take anything larger than a baby step.
Zack sighs deeply. “C’mere.”
He reaches over, grabs her arm, and pulls her into his lap. A look of relief crosses her face at not having to travel the distance on her own. She didn’t think she’d be able to make it anyway.
Zack glances down at her and Rachel can’t help being reminded of honey when she sees his golden eye. He brushes her hair from her face and grunts. “Jeez, why didn’t you say something?”
“I wanted to see if I could walk on my own.”
He exhales loudly before reaching over her body to grab another wad of paper towels. It’s not as if he isn’t sore, either; his abdominal muscles are strained and tense. He wants nothing more than to sprawl out on a comfortable bed and sleep, but that’ll have to wait.
He brings the cloth to her opening but immediately stops when she whimpers at the touch and recoils into his chest.
“Just relax, Ray.”
Realizing that her body’s just overly-sensitive, she offers a small nod and forces herself to relax.
He sets to work cleaning her up, doing his utmost to rid her body of any of the sticky liquids left behind from their session. After a few pats at her opening, he realizes that his load is so thick and heavy that no matter how much he wipes away, more continues to spill out.
“Damn, it never ends.”
“You released too much,” Rachel answers softly.
He makes a noise that almost sounds like a choke, and she’s sure that if Zack were the type to blush he would be.
“It’s not my fault— what was I supposed to do?!”
Rachel simply smiles at this and leans back into his chest. “I don’t mind.”
Eventually the soreness in Rachel’s legs subsides, though there’s a dull ache that echoes through her whenever she shifts her body a certain way. Even after they’re both clean and fully clothed, they remain seated on the floor to watch as snow begins to fall from a small window. A plate with a single slice of Eddie’s Christmas party cake is shared between them.
Oh, right, the party…
Rachel surveys the café with a bit of a frown. They haven’t made any progress since the staff left— if anything, the café is even more of a mess than before.
Zack seems to share her disappointment before shrugging. “No use sulking about it. We’ll just trash the pastries and sweep up a bit. Then I’ll take you home.”
She nods with that small smile that she’s learned to make around him. Forking a small piece of the dessert, she places it in her mouth and savors it before nestling back into her coworker’s warmth.
“Thank you, Zack. And also, Merry Christmas.”