#kiki bones

My wife

You walk up to the counter, ready to be greeted by the barista, but there’s no one there. You look around, but no staff is to be seen. Dang it, you have to ring the bell.

The bright ding! catches the attention of someone: ”Ett ögonblick!” you hear a shout from the staff room, and soon she emerges, pale blond hair swishing as she walks briskly to the register.

Well, goddamn.

”Hej, vad får det lov att vara?”

You hear the polite sound of her voice, but your mind’s suddenly too occupied to actually register the words: her looks seem to have captivated you completely. Your brain short-circuits, making you look like a fish out of water.

That black dress shirt of hers is slightly unbottoned, giving you a glimpse of what hides underneath it. Her skin seems to be covered in tattoos, all the way from her neck to her fingers, and you can’t help but glance at her full chest while you’re at it. But then those dark red lips of hers move, the following words finally snapping you out of it.

”Är du redo att beställa?”

The corner of her mouth curves up as amusement seeps into her tone, and you take a moment to just blink at her. Then, with a slight shake of your head, you clear your throat.

”Y-yes, I mean, ja, jag är redo,” you stammer as a flush begins to rise on your cheeks, causing the barista to smile even wider. She picks up on your pronounciation and tilts her head slightly. ”Is english better?” she asks, her accent heavy, just like the black eyeliner around her twinkling blue eyes.

”Oh, yes, please… I just moved here, so I don’t know the language quite well yet.”

”I noticed,” the woman gives a short laugh, leaning her chin on her hand in a relaxed manner. ”So, what can I get you?”

Her confident nature is making your hands sweaty, but you try to ignore it as you quickly look over the menu. There are dozens of different drinks, and if that isn’t overwhelming enough, now you have a hot barista following your every move. Fuck it, you think and choose the first thing that feels right.

”A vanilla latte, please.”

”A vanilla latte? How adventurous…” she quips, writing your order down. ”Anything to eat?” she asks then, propping her other hand on her hip. You swallow nervously and shake your head, feeling how your cheeks are starting to burn: ”Uh, no thank you.”

”Alright, thank you. I’ll bring your drink to the table in a second,” she says, holding eye contact for a little longer than necessary before turning around and walking to the coffee machine. You sigh in relief as the tension breaks – what the hell was that about? Surely you just read too much into the interaction. She’s just doing her job and here you are, being a creepy, awkward customer. Gosh, how embarrassing.

So, you go to find a table for yourself. There are a couple customers sitting and sipping their coffees, but you can mostly choose freely where to sit. You decide to go for the table around the corner, right where you can be out of the barista’s field of vision – you’re feeling too shy for that after the interaction you just had.

It doesn’t take long for her to appear again, this time with your drink in hand. ”Here you go, enjoy,” she sets it on the table with that same, sickly sweet smile, and just as she’s about to leave, you remember something:

”Oh, wait, I forgot to pay!”

”Don’t worry about it – it’s on the house,” she chirps, fishing a receipt out of her pocket and handing it out to you. Your fingers touch at the exchange, the simple brush of skin on skin feeling like an electric shock.

And then, just like that, she’s walking away, hips swaying in a way that must be intentional. You’re left flabbergasted (and slightly hot under the collar). Is this some Swedish thing? Did you misunderstand something? You check the receipt to see if there was a mistake, but no. It shows the price of the drink – already payed.

Did she just basically offer you a free drink?

Something must’ve gone wrong, right? And wouldn’t she be getting in trouble for giving a drink for free? It’s not like you want to get her fired or anything. Maybe you should ask about that before leaving.

Sighing, you glance down at the cup on the table, your eyes dropping to the latte art she has made:

a heart.

After some time, you’re finished. The drink was delicious, the taste of it almost too sweet, but perhaps it’s exactly what you would expect from the barista in question. Leaving the empty drink on the table, you start walking over to the counter, getting mentally ready to face her again.

And there she is, her back to you as she seems to be cleaning the coffee-making equipment. You just freeze for a moment as your words get stuck in your throat, and you end up standing there awkwardly, watching her work. But almost as if on cue, the woman turns her head to look over her shoulder.

”Hey, you. May I be of help somehow?”

”No- I mean, yes!” you start nervously, taking out the receipt and checking her name – Barista: Kiki Bones – from it. Clearing your throat, you continue.

”Kiki, right? Uhm, it’s just that… I mean, the drink was great, but I was just wondering what this receipt means? I mean, you basically gave me a free drink and I don’t want you to get in trouble. I can pay for it, really.”

”Oh, that? Don’t worry about it, smulan. Like I said, it’s on the house. You can just think of it as a, hmm, what’s the word? Ah, a pretty priviledge.”

Your face turns completely red, and the grin that slowly spreads on Kiki’s face doesn’t help your situation at all. She stops what she’s doing and turns to you fully, crossing her arms over her chest, accidentally (or not?) accentuating her chest, and gosh she’s beautiful-

”Not used to compliments, are you, kära? Or getting offered a free drink, hm?”

She comes closer, leaning over the counter. You hear steps as the final customer seems to leave, and when the two of you are finally left all alone, she reaches a hand out to tug at the collar of your shirt. The movement makes you jerk forward, and suddenly you’re face to face with the woman – almost close enough to feel her breath on your skin.

”I can give you something else for free too. Do you want a sample?” she murmurs, her gaze starting to wander across your features, and before you can even think about it, you nod. And that’s all it takes for Kiki to close the distance and kiss you over the counter.

Suddenly everything stops.

The warm, firm press of her lips make your knees buckle, and your heart answers by fluttering wildly. Gosh, the taste of her lipstick is sweet enough to eat, and before you can really even properly react to her kiss, she’s already pulling away with a smirk.

”Interested in trying more?” Kiki whispers.

”… yes,” you answer.

That’s all it takes to get her moving: you watch her walk past you to the entrance of the cafe, noticing how she turns the sign on the door from ’open’ to ’closed’. Then, with quick steps, she comes to grab your hand and drag you to the other side of the counter, right into the staff room.

Neither of you say a word – there’s no need to. Right as the door closes behind you, Kiki presses you against it, her lips attacking yours as she kisses you with much more force than before. It’s an open-mouthed one, letting your breaths mingle as the two of you get lost in each other.

As her tongue invades your mouth, you sigh audibly, tangling your fingers into her blonde strands. Kiki feels you tugging at them, and it’s exactly the kind of confirmation she needed that you want this just as much as she does. So, she proceeds to kiss you senseless, her hands beginning to wander all over your heated body.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, exploring each other, tasting each other: not even the shortness of breath seem to stop you as you both just pant into each others mouths. Kiki’s lipstick is basically all gone at this point, her lips all kiss-swollen from devouring you, but she shows no signs of stopping. She clearly has the upper hand as she sets the pace, and you’re more than happy for her to take the lead.

Her hands seem to be everywhere: grabbing at your hips, sliding around your waist, groping at your breasts… but then her right hand sneaks even lower, brushing at the apex of your thighs.

It’s embarrassing how instinctively you press yourself against her hand, yearning for more pressure as you finally break the wordless dance between you:

”Please,” is all you manage to breathe out against her lips, and oh, how smug it’s making Kiki feel. She does as you wishes, pressing her hand against you and letting you rub yourself against her.

”There’s a good girl,” she hums between kisses, clearly pleased with how much of a mess you’ve already become, but then you let out a moan at those words, taking her by surprise – in a good way, of course. She pulls away slightly, hooded eyes examining your expression.

”Oh? You like when mommy praises you? Oh, you sweet thing,” she croons, listening to your quiet, breathless mewls as you chase that delicious friction. Kiki can feel the warmth through the fabric of your bottoms, and, impatient as she is, her fingers move to dip under your waistband. They slide down to find you slick and warm, causing her to smirk approvingly.

You, on the other hand, gasp at the way her fingers glide through your folds, the feeling causing shivers to run down your spine, all the way down to your core. ”Yes, please, there…” you pant softly as she happens to press on your clit, and Kiki is all too happy to serve her customer.

Her fingers begin to focus on that sweet spot, applying more pressure as your moans grow louder, and her other hand grabs your hip in order to encourage your movements. She watches how your eyes close and how your brows knit together, and the sight causes her to press her thighs together in an attempt to get some relief of her own. But as if on cue, your hands move to grope at the soft swell of her chest, pinching a nipple thorugh her dress shirt.

Fuck, the low moan she lets out coaxes a fresh wave of slick out of you.

Kiki tosses her head back as you knead her breasts, and you take the opportunity to latch onto her neck, sucking and kissing the inked skin. ”That’s it, jävla fan…” she groans, and you answer with a desperate whine:

”Kiki, fuck, I’m getting close-”

”Already?” she coos, her fingers circling faster, ”Åh, min söta flicka… go on, then. Come for mommy.”

And that’s all it takes.

She feels you throb against her fingers as you reach your peak, covering her hand with your release as you tremble through every wave of pleasure. And you’re not alone: Kiki’s right behind you, beginning to pant as she gets closer as well, your hands squeezing her chest just right. She’s been on edge almost from the moment of first getting to talk to you, so it doesn’t take long for her to cum right after you with a grunt.

The staff room finally falls quiet except for the soft panting from the two of you. Both of you feel sweaty and sticky under your clothes, but it doesn’t seem to bother either of you. Somehow it feels just perfect, and you feel like you never want to move out of her embrace.

But everything comes to an end eventually, and slowly Kiki retracts her hand, wiping it on her dress shirt, and you untangle yourself from her as well. She looks like a hot mess with her smeared makeup and tousled hair, but you find yourself liking her even more this way. And as the dust begins to settle, the two of you fall back into your familiar roles: you, shifting a little awkwardly in front of her, and Kiki holding herself in that confident, relaxed manner.

You fidget with your hands for a moment, unsure of what to do now, but then you remember something, so you break the silence shyly: ”Oh, I uh… never thanked you for the free drink, by the way,” you point out, but Kiki just waves her hand dismissively.

”No worries, it’s just a part of my sales tactic,” she smiles, that flirtatious glint reappearing in her eyes.

Your eyebrows shoot up: ”Sales tactic?”

”Freebie marketing,” she says, turning to walk towards the mirror on the other side of the staff room. You watch her begin to fix her hair, trying to make it look like she wasn’t just hooking up with one of her customers during working hours.

”Offering samples, giving free stuff… it increases sales.”

Kiki meets your stunned gaze through the mirror, holding it for a moment before bursting out laughing. The hearty sound fills the small room, and damn it, it’s making your heart stutter again. She almost feels bad for you – you look so confused.

”I’m just joking with you. Kind of,” the blonde chuckles, fixing her bangs before turning to face you. With slow steps, she walks up to you, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up to meet her intense stare: ”Depends if my tactic actually worked. What do you say – will I see you here again?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts.

You’ve definitely gotten good, personal service. Very thorough. The latte she made you was great as well, so there’s really no reason for you to complain about your cafe experience. In fact, it’s been the best one you’ve had so far. So, you wrap your arms loosely around her shoulders, leaning in to plant a quick peck on her lips.

”You just got yourself a regular customer.”