Blonde Roast: A bad barista is punished and pleasured

“Oh no, it didn’t go through,” she said, looking down at the register.

It took me a second to respond. In trying not to get lost in my favorite pair of blue eyes, I had become distracted by the barista behind her, and her luscious, denim-covered derrière.

“Oh ok,” I said. “Should I pull out?”

Our eyes met and a smirk dawned on her face.

She caught herself, straightened her expression, and looked down at the card reader. “Um, yes, go ahead. You stuck it in too early,” she said.

I could almost pinpoint the exact moment when she realized what she had said. I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she blushed bright red.

“Story of my life!” I said.

Suddenly, she burst into laughter. I joined her. Before long we were both laughing uncontrollably, much to the amusement of the long line of customers, and the employees who were now turning to notice us. I did my best to reinsert my debit card as my giggles slowly wore off.

“Ohhhhhh my God, that was funny!” she exclaimed, wiping tears from her eyes and looking down at the register screen. “Oh ok, it went through. I’ll have your americano up in just a second!”

“Thanks Bridget! I always appreciate you, and your attentive service!”

I don’t usually speak that formally, but I was somewhat of a secret admirer of Bridget’s. She worked at the Starbucks just a block from my apartment. I tried to display a certain genteel persona, hoping to impress her somehow.

“Oh no Tim, it was really was my pleasure,” she said in an ironic tone of voice. Her eyes lingered on mine for a second longer than expected, and then, just before turning away, I winked at her.

I left the line, and found a seat by the window overlooking the street below.

As I gazed down at the street the wheels of my mind were turning hard. I felt I had a golden opportunity on my hands, but I hadn’t the foggiest clue as to how I would seize upon it.

“Tall hot americano for Tim at the bar!”

I turned, and there was Bridget placing the cup down at the counter. Her dirty blonde hair was combed perfectly down to her shoulders. It seemed to frame up her face in a picturesque fashion. Her body was curvy, and firm — though small and unimposing.

“Have a good day, sir,” she said as she turned away and went back to work. Her flirtatious demeanor had somehow turned cold. I was perplexed.

I picked up my drink only to find that there was a small note on top of the lid. I read it as I took the first sip.

You really are a pervert you know that?

I stood there, rattled. Did I read that whole situation completely wrong? Was my joke in poor taste? I thought to myself. I immediately put the slip of paper in my pocket and left the store as quickly as I could.

I walked home, the whole time playing the situation over and over again in my head. “What was I thinking!” I said to myself.

But then…why did she laugh, and say that thing about it being “my pleasure”? Or did I read that wrong too?

“Urrrrhhh! Women are so confusing!” I said under my breath as I tossed my empty cup into the trash.

I pulled the slip out from my pocket again. I thought there had to be something I was missing. I read it out loud to myself.

You really are a pervert you know that?

But then I noticed there was mark in the corner. It looked as if it had been hastily written there. It was… an arrow. There was more on the back! I flipped it over.

But so am I! LOL Call me?

There was a number.

It wan’t more than 10 seconds before I had “Barista Bridget” as the newest addition to my list of iPhone contacts.

I texted Bridget that evening and got a single “Heyyyyy!” in response. After I asked her how her night was going I didn’t hear back. The next afternoon I stopped by that same Starbucks to see if I could catch her. She was at the register. I ordered my usual tall, hot americano.

“I’m gonna get you a french vanilla latte instead…” she said. She had a suspiciously goofy grin on her face.

I laughed as she picked up the drink cup and began writing on it. “But… I don’t want a french vanilla latte,” I said.

She stuck her tongue out at me, and continued writing.

“You’re being a little brat, you know that Bridget?” I said in a playful voice.

She set the cup aside, leaned over the register and put both of her hands on the counter. “Ohh? Are you gonna punish me?” she asked, staring up at me with her big blue eyes.

I looked around to see if anyone was taking notice of us. The few people in line were lost in their phones. I smiled, and narrowed my eyes. I placed my card in the reader.

She punched the order into the register. “That’s $7.25, just so you know. Wow, that americano would have been a lot cheaper. You should really watch your spending habits.”

“I want to see you as soon as you get off. You are in big trouble…” I said softly, but intensely.

She handed me my receipt. Her face lit up just a little. “Yes, sir!” she said.

I sat at the same table — the one overlooking the street — as the day before. I could hear Bridget taking orders, and then in a loud voice she called out to her shift lead. “Marissa, I’m going to lunch! I might be a little long. I have a quick thing to take care of!”

And with that, I heard her approaching. She sat in the chair across from me, and held my french vanilla latte in both of her hands. She took a long sip, reached behind her and dropped it in the trash can.

“I’m ready to be punished, sir,” she said. The playful tone in her voice was completely gone.

I stared at her for just a second. Then I took her by the hand and led her out of the store. We circled the building until I found a spot that I thought might work: a back alley with a secluded area that was sectioned off by four tall green hedges.

“That’s the smoke break area,” she said. “But no one on our crew smokes, so no one ever goes in there. You can punish me real good as long as we’re not too loud,” she said with her characteristic giggle.

I had no idea what to do next. Luckily, Bridget took the lead and pulled me along until we reached the hedge area. There was an old wooden bench with no rails. Once inside the hedges she placed her arms around my neck, and kissed me softly.

She smiled. “Do you wanna spank me on the bench?”

I smiled wide and nodded. I sat down, and without hesitation Bridget draped herself across my lap. She grabbed on tightly to my left leg. I held her at the waist. Her bottom looked glorious in her tight black jeans — full, and firm. Her hips seemed wider than ever across my right thigh. I gave her a hard smack.

“Ooooohh!!” she cried with a giggle. “Punish me, sir! I’ve been a bad girl!”

I raised my hand into the air, and then froze. “Do you… have a safeword?” I asked.

She smiled back at me. “Um…Blonde Roast!” she quipped. “Get it?”

“Blonde roast indeed!” I announced with a laugh. I wiped the smile off of my face. “I’ve had enough of your silly attitude, you know that?” I scolded.

I reached for her pants and pulled them down. It was a bit of a struggle, but Bridget was all too eager to reach back and help me. After a bit of grunting and tugging, her butt was bare, and ready for chastisement. Her pale tender moon looked like a work of erotic art.

I began spanking her, gently at first, then gradually picking up force. She let out a series of “mmmmm” sounds until I started to really spank hard. That turned her soft “mmmmm”’s into high pitched “oh!” and “ah!”s that had my dick hard, and dripping from the tip. She wiggled in my lap, but not once did she break her position or say the magic words.

After quite a long spanking, I could see that her cheeks had gone from pale to pink. I put my hand between her legs, and dipped my fingers into her wetness. I teased her lightly, moving my fingers slowly, then with my opposite hand I resumed the spanking. Her hand went immediately to her mouth to muffle her cries.

I was panting like a dog by now, utterly in awe of the glorious sights and sounds that I was taking in. In all of my wettest dreams, I hadn’t imagined that I would find myself in this lusty, spanky wonderland of a situation.

I spanked about 10 times on the right, then about 10 or 15 times on the left, and then I repeated. Bridget’s moans became louder. I responded by spanking a little harder.

Soon I was sure we were making plenty of noise for any passerby to hear. But by now, I didn’t care. I continued on, lost in a lust-filled haze of moaning, spanking, and the delightfulness of Bridget’s warm, wet sex around my fingers. Finally, I spanked her left side repeatedly, harder than before. I could feel myself getting carried away and Bridget seemed to be having the same experience. Then suddenly, she shouted.

“Blonde roast!!!!”

I froze. I stopped spanking. I could feel her convulsing around my fingers while a warm fluid was pouring out from her. She was writhing in my lap, and panting frantically. I looked down at my pant leg. She was squirting all over my jeans. I didn’t mind one bit.

After a minute, she stopped moving. I held her there in my lap, stroking her bottom with one hand and her ponytail with the other.

“Did you learn your lesson, Bridget?”

She nodded, and replied breathlessly. “Yes, sir!”

“Good. Because I expect a full refund, and for you to make my drink correctly when I come in tomorrow. Is that understood?”

“Yes, understood.”

I checked my watch. “It looks like your lunch break is almost over. Let’s get you up,” I said as I helped her onto her feet. I gazed in admiration at her naked lower body — her shaven sex, centered between two thick silky thighs. I ran my fingers across them. “You really are beautiful, you know that?” I said.

She inched up her jeans, and finally caught her breath. “Thanks! I’m so sorry I made such a mess on you!”

“It’s ok! Small price to pay for the best 25 minutes of my life!” I said with a chuckle.

She laughed, bent down and kissed me. “Bring them to my place tonight. I’ll wash them for you. And then maybe I’ll let you return the favor,” she said with wink and smile.

“That sounds messy!” I said. We both started laughing. Her arms wrapped around my neck, and she whispered in my ear. “Or you can come inside me. I’m on the pill. I’ll allow it.”

“That sounds delightful,” I said with an unrepressed grin.

She grabbed my wrist and checked my watch. “I gotta go!” she said frantically. She buttoned her pants, kissed me one last time, and darted out of the hedges. I followed.

“I’ll text you my address!” she hollered as she scurried away.

“Sounds good!” I hollered back.

“Thanks for the spanking! And the orgasm!” she said with her usual girlish giggle.

My head swiveled immediately to check my surroundings. Nobody was around to hear.

“You’re…” I began to say before she disappeared around the corner.

“You’re welcome, Bridget,” I muttered beneath my breath. “You are so, so welcome.”

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