The cafe’s lights flickered slightly as the door opened, and Ann Ong looked up in surprise.
“Oh,” she said in relief. “It’s just you.”
“Just me?” Wee Chiat Ying replied, raising one eyebrow. “What kind of a greeting is that.”
“You know what I mean, Ms Wee. The usual?”
“Yes. And be snappy about it.”
Ms Wee worked around the corner, and so had become a regular of the small cafe—Ong’s was the only place open late at night, so whenever she needed to clear her head, she’d drop by.
Internally she looked down on the harried cafe owner; being a barista, in Ms Wee’s opinion, was no way to spend your life.
Had she looked closer, she would have seen more in common between the two of them than she thought. Like Ann, Ms Wee spent more time working than not, and Ann’s opinion of her customers closely mirrored Ms Wee’s opinion of her.
Lazy, she thought to herself as her small hands deftly prepared the drink. The fact that she relied on people she considered too lazy to make their own coffee was an irony that she was well aware of, but that didn’t stop it from entering her head each and every time she prepared a drink. Lazy and ungrateful.
Still, she had to admit that she was glad to see a familiar face coming into her cafe so late at night. There was something about the air that night—a strange chill. It had left her feeling uneasy, and the…
“Christ!” she exclaimed, turning around to present Ms Wee with her coffee. Standing at the counter was a small man, dressed all in black. There was something extraordinarily off-putting about his eyes, but the reason for her exclamation had been his silent approach—she hadn’t heard the door opened, she hadn’t heard him cross the room, and Ms Wee hadn’t said anything in response to the man’s sudden entrance.
She was saying something now.
“Excuse me,” she sneered, giving the man a cruel glance. “I was here first.”
“Oh?” the mysterious man said, his teeth and eyes glinting in a way that made Ann feel the chill of the night’s air even stronger than she had before.
“Yes,” Ms Wee replied, before turning her attention back to Ann. “Please, Pam, get mine before you serve this…”
Ann gritted her teeth at the use of the wrong name, but as she glanced back at her regular late-night customer, her heart-rate quickened. Ms Wee’s tirade had abruptly halted, and now she looked totally…blank. Like someone had switched her off.
“I do need to get hers first.”
“But surely you can take my order,” the stranger said, one eyebrow raised. “What kind of customer service is this?”
“I’m sorry,” Ann lied.
The odd-looking gentleman just stared at her, and for a moment Ann felt flushed. She turned to the coffee machine, acutely aware of the man in black’s gaze on her back.
Her head swam as she stared at the controls. She’d been serving coffee for years, but in that moment, all her knowledge of how to operate the espresso maker seemed to have completely slid from her head.
Ann Ong’s hand trembled. She suddenly felt completely off-kilter.
Not like Ms Wee.
Her brow furrowed. Where had that thought come from?
It was a correct one, of course. Glancing over, Ann couldn’t help but admire how composed the older woman looked. She was half a foot shorter than Ann, standing at almost exactly five feet. Slim and small-breasted, Ms Wee had long, dark hair and was always perfectly clad in business casual.
Yes, Ann reflected. She’s always so poised—not like me. Compared to the tiny elegance of her late-night regular, Ann felt like a clomping giant. Her hair was shoulder-length (to prevent it getting in the way while she worked) and she was curvier all over; totally unlike the slim lines that Ms Wee carried so well.
Ann blinked twice. Somehow she’d totally forgotten that the man was even there—she’d been so distracted, admiring Ms Wee’s form. She was so pretty, so attractive—sure, she probably couldn’t make a coffee to save her life (Used to constant service, Ann thought to herself, unsure why the word “service” caused a tingle to run up the back of her spine) but not everyone had Ann’s work ethic.
“Just give me a minute, sir,” Ann said demurely. The chill had faded, filled with a warmth that grew and grew as she thought more about Ms Wee. She was so in control, so calm and collected.
I bet she’d be an incredible lover.
A blush appeared on Ann’s face at the thought. Where had that come from? She wasn’t even interested in…in women. Truth be told, she wasn’t even that interested in men—they inevitably ended up boring or disappointing her, and so she’d decided to pour herself into her business instead of wasting her time with sex.
“I really can’t wait all night,” the man said, and Ann realized that she still hadn’t even started on Ms Wee’s order. “Are you sure you can’t do mine first?”
“Well…” Ann said, suddenly wavering on her previously strong stance. “If Ms Wee doesn’t mind…”
“I’m sure she doesn’t. Do you, dear?”
“Mmmm,” Ms Wee responded dreamily, and Ann was convinced.
“Very well,” she said, trying to ignore the warmness growing between her legs at the sound of Ms Wee’s soft response. “What would you like?”
“Coffee,” he said immediately. “With milk, please.
Ann’s brow creased as she parsed the man’s unusual phrase. She owned the cafe—of course she was going to use her milk. But as he pointed to her breasts, her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying.
“Yes,” he said, and the glint was back. There was something odd about it. Something dangerous.”
A wave of arousal passed over the barista as she said the word “sir”, and it distracted her so much that she couldn’t even finish her sentence. Against her will, she fell to her knees, so overcome with lust that she couldn’t resist.
“Your milk,” he repeated. “I insist.”
Before Ann knew what was happening, she felt her breasts begin to swell. They ballooned inside her shirt, and soon her buttons were popping off and flying everywhere. She was sure she’d worn a bra to work that day, but now…it was nowhere to be seen.
Gasping, breathless, more turned on than she could ever remember being, she watched as her breasts grew and grew, until they were roughly the size of her head.
“Please,” she managed to get out, but before she could convey whatever half-thought had popped into her head, her breasts had started gushing milk all over her normally pristine cafe.
With a grunt, she managed to grab one nipple (almost passing out from the pleasure) and aim its milky offering into a cup. To her surprise, Ms Wee had made her way behind the counter, and immediately latched onto the other nipple and started swallowing down the white liquid.
The man grinned as, dazed, she handed him a cup.
“Thank you,” he said softly as he sipped at the fresh beverage, watching the scene unfold in front of him.
The more of Ann’s milk Ms Wee swallowed, the more her breasts grew, until soon the two women’s chests were equally matched. Only then did Ann’s lactation cease, and Ms Wee’s eyes found their focus.
“I…what’s happening?” the business woman said in horror, looking at the pair of enormous breasts in front of her face.
“I’m sorry,” Ann said, her blush spreading down her neck.
“What the hell have you done to me, you stupid bitch?”
“She hasn’t done anything,” the strange man tutted, and Ann watched in fascination as Ms Wee’s anger turned into arousal. Her eyes grew stormy, and her attention turned to the barista.
“Pam,” she moaned, and Ann was so happy to hear the erotic tone of the businesswoman’s voice that she didn’t even bother to correct her. “What’s…”
“Don’t fight it,” the man purred, and Ms Wee obeyed unquestioningly, leaning forward and placing her lips on the taller woman’s—she was prepared for rejection, but in response, Ann wrapped her arms around her customer’s body and pulled her closer.
“Please…” Wee Chiat Ying moaned. “What’s…why…”
“Don’t question it,” the stranger said, unzipping his pants, smiling as the two girls turned to him with lust in their eyes. “Just enjoy it for what it is.”
As the women fought to be the first to take his hardness down their throats, he sipped at his drink once more.
This was going to be a good night.