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Sketchpad and notebook in hand, I left my apartment in pre-dawn’s faint light and headed down the cobblestone street into town for some coffee and a few hours of peace before starting my day. The pleasant coolness of the early morning breeze tickled softly on my face and filled my chest with wakeful energy as I strolled to a small, cozy cafe I adored, knowing that this early, I would be there about two hours before opening. Most businesses would be closed and locked, but I was a frequent patron to the establishment, so the owner knew me well and would often let me in to quietly begin my day and get an early cup of coffee.
Passing by other closed businesses on that sleepy street, seeing nary a soul minus a delivery man on his route, I arrived at the cafe and knocked on the door.
“Hold on a moment,” I heard someone, the owner, call back from inside. I expected to hear the warm creak of old floorboards as she walked across the shop to open the lock for me as she normally does on days when I arrive so early. Instead, a few moments later as I peered through the windows, I saw her pop up from behind the counter holding a bucket and rag and wave at me saying "Come on in". I opened the door and the bell dinged merrily.
She was an avian woman with bluish slate feathers on her back, and speckled crème on her jaws trailing all the way down her front onto her arms and legs. Her head was flatter and more wedge shaped than a human’s, and she had an enormous hooked beak tipped in black and fringed in yellow that seamlessly blended into the fleshy yellow lips at her beak’s corners. Though her head was angular in ways no human woman’s was, and in spite of the enormous muscles on the back of her jaw, her well kept pelt of feathers gave her a softness that smoothed out her features in a way that still somehow signaled attractive femininity despite her non-human features. She smiled, her lips at the corners of her beak turning upwards as a warm greeting, and waved at me, her face as emotive as any human’s.
She stood behind the counter, facing me, wiping it down, and I sleepily shuffled over to a seat like I had many times in the past, the routine of it all causing me not to pay much attention to the details of her clothes.
"Your usual today?" she asked,
"I'll have a cortado."
"Sure thing. I'll have that out for you in just a minute."
I set out my sketchbook and pens, sketched a few lines, then got up and headed over to the counter when I hear her prime the espresso machine. As I walked over, she turned to a side-bar to set out the cup and it was then, as she faced away from me, I realized she was wearing nothing under her apron.
Not a stitch of clothing.
I hesitated for just a moment, some part of my mind clawing at me that I had walked in on her unannounced, that I was intruding. She lived upstairs, so it wasn’t unreasonable to think there were times she was in a state of undress when she wasn’t expecting someone – but no. She had been the one who invited me in. She could have told me to come back later.
I stepped up to the counter as she's focused on the machine to pull the shot of espresso. I took the opportunity to catch a quick glance at her body.
The apron clung to the tips of her breasts, just barely hiding their tips – not that much else was left to the imagination. I could see the perky outlines of her teats through the thin fabric, and the entirety of her side and under breast flashed out in plain sight from the taut canopy of the apron.
She was keeping her tail down, and the high bar and apron trailing to her knees obscured most everything from her waistline down, though she showed me a few nice curves of uncovered ass from the side.
Pulling the cup off the espresso machine, she subtly glanced over at me.
I pretended I was not looking.
As she poured milk into the steaming cup of coffee, drawing a tulip plant with practiced ease, she turned her head ever so slightly more towards me and she made another, stronger connection of eye contact, and the corners of her mouth tweaked upwards as a wistful expression danced in her eyes. Wordlessly, in that one expression, she declared to me ‘I know what I am doing. Look at me: I want to show you my body’.
So I obliged her, my mouth making a similar coy smile as my eyes flitted down her body and back up to her face. "Did the business assign you a new uniform?" I asked, adding a touch of playfulness to my tone.
"Only part of one," she replied in a chipper tone, placing the cup on a saucer and sliding it over to me.
"Of course they would force you to swap out to a new one." She turned back towards me to grab the rag and continue wiping down her work area. “I wonder what your management was thinking doing that.”
She is the sole owner of the cafe.
The corners of her mouth momentarily tweaked upwards again, that intoxicating twinkle appeared again at the corner of her eyes. "I don’t believe they put much thought into things like that. Some days, it’s like they are acting on whatever whim crosses their mind." She turned and walked over to the sink to wring out her rag, and I noticed her attempt to very discretely kick a pile of hastily disrobed clothes into a nook under in the cabinets as she passed it. I tried to hide a wry smile as it ran across my face, but couldn’t stop it as I caught more flashes of side and underbreast as she turned to wring the rag out, and then saw a healthy glance of thigh when she turned again to wipe down another counter.
I put a thumb to my chin, scratching thoughtfully and saying, "Hmm, not to say the new uniform is bad. They seem to have done a pretty good with it but something seems to be a bit off…"
“You don’t say?” she said, looking over to arch an eyebrow at me.
"Yeah, it’s hard to put a finger on it though. Maybe it’s the apron." I said, letting my gaze slide down then back up her body again.
"What about it?" She said, turning back to me and looking down at herself. “It’s the same one I’ve always worn."
"Maybe that’s it. It could be too familiar. I wonder what your new uniform would look like without it." The growing warmth in my loins threatened to burst from my pants as I uttered those words.
"Hard to say, but it has to stay on while I work. Don’t want to get my feathers messy, after all." She gave me a sly wink while picking up a watering can, filling it, and turning to start watering the plants around the shop. I picked up my drink and sipped on it as she walked away from the counter, giving a very solid view of her back and ass as she walked past me, or at least as much as could be seen with her tail held low.
I watched for a little while as she made her rounds, wondering just how much she was intentionally teasing me. Then she took out a step ladder from a small broom closet, and I knew how much.
She sat it out under a sunny shelf, stepped up, leaning forwards to water the plants, lifting her tail just enough to keep balance and show a little bit of upper thigh without unveiling all the goodness which lay underneath. She moved the ladder and stepped up again, then again. Each time, lifting her tail a little higher while still somehow not showing it all.
Damn, she’s good at this.
Every now and then she would not so subtly look back over her shoulder to make sure I was still watching. Of course I was. We both knew what the other was thinking, and now was no time for modesty from either of us.
Setting the stepladder underneath the last of the shelf plants, she stepped up one last time leaning so far forwards I thought I might actually see more than just thigh this time, and as her tail just began to lift up the last little bit to show a good view of her bare ass, she finished watering the plant, straightened up, and stepped back down. Though she was looking away from me, I could see a taunting smile at the edges of her beak, leaving me wanting to say ‘Well aren’t you the little tease’.
As she folded the ladder up to put it away, I cleared my throat. She looked back over at me, that mischievous smile still tugging at the corners of her beak, and I pointed over to a shelf right next to me, saying, “Are you sure you watered that plant well?”
"I suppose another watering wouldn’t hurt." She picked up the ladder and moved it back over to the sun-drenched shelf, stepping up and leaning a touch farther forwards than she had yet. If I had blinked, I would have missed the quick flash of vulva she finally showed me.
But I didn’t, and I couldn’t help but grin coyly at her as my heart started beating even harder at the sight of her privates.
Stepping back down, she collected the ladder and headed back behind the bar, giving me a knowing side-eye with a cocked eyebrow as she passed by, wordlessly saying ‘Yeah, I know you liked that.’ Keeping the playful charade going, she walked around the counter, returning the watering can and step ladder to their places and saying “Let me pull us both another drink. Mind staying to chat for a while before opening hour?”
"That sounds wonderful. I was planning on staying a while, after all.”
She gave me a warm smile and returned to the espresso machine.
I watched as she ground the espresso beans and pulled two more shots. Probably intentionally, she had gotten the front of her cotton apron wet. It clung to her breasts all the closer, and made watching her all the more tantalizing.
“Why don’t you go take a seat over there,” she asked, nodding towards where I had first sat down. “I’ll join you with our drinks.”
“I suppose I will,” I said, eyeing her wet apron, and the pleasant little bumps where it clung to the tips of her breasts, “Though I do think I prefer the view over here.”
She flashed me a coy look with that twinkle in her eye. “The light’s much better over there,” she said, motioning towards that set of chairs where an early morning sunbeam was shining in. “I think the view will be good there too.”
Playing along, I headed over to the chairs and sat down, picking up a hard-leaded pencil, and lightly sketching in my sketchbook which I rested on my knee. She arrived a few minutes later, setting the drinks down on the low table between us, settling herself down into the high backed chair across from me, smoothing the apron on her lap as she crossed her legs, showing just enough inner thigh doing so to draw some intrigue but not spoil the wonder.
“What are you working on?” she asked.
“Something that just inspired me.” I looked up from my sketching at her and smiled faintly, committing her facial features to paper. Front on, her breasts were faintly visible through the fabric, making it hard not to stare at the wrong places when I looked up at her for reference. Not fighting it, I made sure she realized I was looking at her, then I looked over my shoulder out the windows onto the quiet, small town street. I looked back to her and raised my eyebrows – she sat in clear view of anyone walking past the establishment.
“Yes?” she asked in response to my mute question.
“I never realized just how much you could see in here from the street,” I said, implying my real comment.
She cast a knowing look over at the windows and back at me. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
“Do think a customer will interrupt us anytime soon?”
“The cafe’ doesn’t have to open on the hour.”
I shrugged, playfully adding, “Just curious if anyone might spot your new uniform through the windows. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise before they walked in.”
She chuckled softly. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
So curious. I had known her for several years now – she had never dressed overly modestly, but neither immodestly either. A few low-cut tank tops with short shorts was the most I had seen her wear in the past. It seemed so out of character for her to be okay with just anyone strolling by seeing her like this.
We chatted for a while about small things – the businesses next door changing their menu, the upcoming spring festival, our workout routines (I often encountered her at the gym) – as we drank the drinks she had prepared for us and I continued sketching. It was all a pretense for her to show off to me – one that I was happily obliged to indulge. She would shift her position every now and then, tossing one leg over the other, or reclining, or adjusting the apron when it threatened to slip off a breast: all expertly driving the intrigue towards her body.
The early morning sunlight cast a warm red glow into the shop through the windows, and the tender crispness of a cool spring morning heightened the woody, acidic scent of coffee. Sitting together in the warm glow of that soft red light, everything felt perfect.
Eventually, she finished her drink and, setting the empty cup on the table between us, she rose.
Somehow, while we were talking, she had discretely untied some of the knots on the apron, leaving only the loop around her neck secured, so when she stood, it billowed off her for a moment, leaving her supple breasts and tight vulva in clear view for a moment before she righted it with a measured tug. “Come on,” she said, reaching out one of her raptor like hands. “There’s a place in the courtyard out back I want to show you.”
I took her hand. With its yellow scales, four digits, and large talons, it resembled a bird of prey’s foot more my hand, which it completely engulfed in its grasp, yet it’s skin was soft, it’s claws filed down and manicured, and altogether was pleasant to hold as we walked together through the shop, out the back door into the small courtyard behind the coffee shop. Two story buildings enclosed us on all sides, but large planters growing flowers and vines on trellises along with flowering bushes and a large elm tree in the courtyard’s center made it feel almost like being out in the forest.
Almost. Because someone, anyone could have been watching us from any of the many windows or balconies belonging to the surrounding businesses and homes.
As we stepped outside, she turned to me, a soft breeze catching her apron and blowing it aside. She didn’t bother to right it this time, showing me the natural, exotic beauty that lay underneath as she pulled it off over her head. She pointed to a trellised arch covered in blooming morning glories and enthusiastically pulled me under it’s dappled shade of flowering vines. “It’s gorgeous over here this time of day.”
She was right, of course. Any other day I might have taken the time for a full color sketch from this angle. However, at that moment, I was distracted by her taloned hands sliding down my stomach, dropping the apron to unfasten my belt and unbutton my pants. When the fasteners were undone, she slid my pants down.
"Oh my, now that’s very different,” she said, kneeling to place her face only a few inches away from my now exposed privates.
“It is? How so?” I asked, heart pounding in my chest, my mind racing at the exotic thrill of showing myself to a very naked, and very eager avian woman.
She grabbed the end of my erect penis with two fingers, and rubbed her thumb in a slow, soft circle around on it’s tip. “Avian men’s cocks are tapered. A bit thinner, but longer too. Not so stiff either. They can bend and twist you know.” She held up a taloned finger, and flexed it back and forth.
“I didn’t know.”
“Yes, also,” she ran her down the length of my shaft and curled her fingers around my balls. I clenched a little bit as the tips of her claws lightly scratched on my taint. However, the scales on her palms were soft, and it felt absolutely delightful to feel her hands gently prod and kneed my balls. “They don’t have these.”
I reached down, gently stroking the feathers on her head, “Look as much as you want,” I said hotly, mind swarming with lustful thoughts, and the excitement of having this woman, who I had known as a friend for years, getting ready to go down on me.
She played with them for a few moments, softly squeezing and releasing them with more than a little bit of fascination. Then, looking up at me, she opened her mouth and leaned into my crotch.
I felt a spurt of worry, watching that sharp beak of hers wrap around my dick, some animal part of my brain expecting the pointed tip to clamp down on me and draw blood. Instead, she took it all in, swallowing it in one gulp like an owl swallowing a snake. The muscles in her throat seemed to grip and pull me in. I leaned forwards and wrapped my hands around the back of her skull and feeling her incredibly soft and silken feathers. I wanted to rub my hands all over her body, lost in the incredible bliss of whatever she was doing to my dick.
I felt the back of her neck tense like she was swallowing, and she pulled me forwards into her again. Then again, and again. It felt good, too good. My legs quivered as her throat muscles massaged my entire length, the slick walls of her throat sliding over and back again on my dick. A delightful shudder ran through my entire body as the slickness of her throat tickled my dick’s head, and I let her continue as long as I could stand it before I stopped her close to the brink of cumming. “Okay, okay, whoah. Stop.” I said, gently pushing her back.
She disengorged herself from my diamond hard erection without showing a single sign of gagging. “Good?”
“Very.” Hell my voice was shaking. I was a lot more than just good. “I don’t want to blow it too soon.”
"You’re girthier than avians,”she said, running the side of her beak along my dick and nibbling softly on it. “I can get a lot better grip on you.” She started down on me again, but as much as I wanted to let her continue, I didn’t have it in me to take much more, so I stopped her by gently pushing back on her head.
"Give me a chance to try it on you.” I said
The feathers on her face and neck roused, and the yellow skin around her beak turned a darker shade – an avian blush. “I’de like that,” she said heatedly, climbing over onto on a bench next to us. She spread her legs and put a hand on her inner thigh, welcoming me in. I obliged her and stooped down in front of her.
While my hand could sink deep into her body feathers, the coat of feathers around her inner thighs was short and downy from the groin up to about where a human’s pubes would be, granting a clear view of her sex. I looked at it, feeling not only my own growing anticipation, but seeing her quivering anticipation too and hearing it in her breath. It was a curious thing, drawing upwards in a line like a human woman’s at the top, but tapering down into a thin, elongated triangle as it arched back to her tail, making an upside down ‘Y’ shape. I reached up, placing my right hand over it, feeling it’s shape, the soft flesh covering a layer of muscles, both underneath the layer of thin crème colored down. I also felt her breathing quicken, and could hear her breath shaking in anticipation, much as mine was. Using my thumb and index finger, I spread it open, and she leaned in, spreading her legs more to show me her deepest, most private parts.
It was hard to say, but it seemed more muscled inside than a human woman’s, but a little nub, her clit, stood out as something I recognized. “Yours is different too, I said, glancing up at her to gauge her reaction as I slid my fingers inside and massaged her clit with my thumb.
She gulped hard at my touch, then laughed warmly and said, "Well, go on. Try it out. I want to show you how it’s different.”
I wasn’t one to keep her waiting, so I leaned in and planted my mouth on her. A shiver ran through her and she relaxed as I took in her scent and taste. Musky, but in an unfamiliar way. Clean too. The organ, like avian males’ member, was purely reproductive. There was another hole for dirty business.
She leaned back and started breathing more laboredly as I worked my tongue through her parts. I could feel her shudder and bear down on me when I found the right parts, and the warm, chortling warbles that escaped her beak told me she was having a good time.
My own loins ached with the anticipation of joining her, so stroked myself as I pushed as deeply into her as I could with my mouth, finding the spots which delighted her and stimulating them until she let out a faint gasp and a much more substantial shudder.
I pushed her along the wave of pleasure, then eased off as her orgasm receded, taking the chance to look up her body, past her delightfully bare breasts, at her face. The feathers on her head were roused and puffed out – the ones on her cheeks most prominently standing on end and showing flushed, pink skin underneath along side the dark yellow blush on her ceres. Her downy undercarriage tickled my mouth as I gave her one last kiss on her secret lips, then I slowly stood, stepping out of the pants around my ankles, hotly aware that someone could spot us from the windows or a balcony at any moment, but much too preoccupied with primal pleasures to sincerely worry.
I helped her up, and she leaned into me, grabbing my member and massaging it slowly. I turned us both around, and sat her down in my lap with her facing me with my dick poking up between her spread legs, nestled in her downy pubes. Once she settled in, knees on the bench on either side of me, she pushed herself up, grabbing my dick and getting ready to insert it as she hoovered the lips of her cloaca like vagina right over my eagerly erect dick.
She leaned in, tilted her head and we shared an open mouthed kiss with her beak wrapping part way around my face, and I thrust upwards. The tip of my penis entered her, then seemed to hit a wall of muscle. “You’re so tight,” I said, wondering how she had felt so much looser a few moments ago.
"I know, I’m clenching,” she said softly, then leaned into me, putting the tip of her beak right next to my ear, and purred in the most sultry of coos saying, “force your way in.”
Holy shit that’s hot.
We leaned together and kissed passionately again, and I let my hands slide to fondle her breasts on their way down to her hips where I braced against them and heaved upwards into her. It felt like my dick nearly bent in half and my hips flinched back to keep from cracking it like a glowstick.
I looked down at our half copulated sexes with some astonishment, and though she was an avian, the expression of a wily fox spread across her face. “How are you-” I asked, and she shushed me with a single talon on my lips. She held up her other hand, and curled each of her four scaled fingers individually into a tight fist. She pulled the finger from my lips, pointing with it and pushing it into the inner curl of her clenched fist. It didn’t penetrate at first but then slowly, she wiggled it back and forth and it slipped in.
Ooooh
I reached down and guided my dick back in, bracing it with my hand as I swiveled my hips back and forth and pushed my tip into the tiny gap held narrow by whatever muscles she had down there. It was a real struggle, like shoving a spade through a slot made for a spoon, and the tapered shape of their males’ dicks suddenly made a lot more sense.
She swiveled against me, sometimes helping me, sometimes stealing away progress that I was making. What I lacked in mobility of their males, however, I made up for in strength, and after some more counter-gyrating, which alone was nearly enough to make me cum, I slipped in.
Only to be met by another group of muscles clenching her passage shut.
She gave me another foxy grin, but before she could finish batting her eyes at me, I firmly gripped her on her shoulders and thrusted upwards again. This time, the tightness worked in my favor, keeping my dick from bending, and I forced upwards with several distinct jolts as I slipped past two more rings of muscle groups to fully penetrate her with the full length of my manhood.
"Nhhuuugh”, she gasped, that seductive look going crosseyed as she doubled forwards and sucked in a sharp breath. Her vagina squeezed down on me in a ripple, locking me in.
"Are you okay?” I asked, suddenly worried I had just hurt her – I'd never felt anyone this tight before.
Her feathers roused again, and I felt her hips shudder against mine. “Y-yeah,” she said, gasping lightly with another orgasm. “Damn, you just-” she gulped and let out a quivering breath, “barged straight on in.”
"Too much?”
"No,” she exhaled dreamily, “My kind take a bit more effort to do that.” She leaned forwards against me, wrapping her arms under around my chest and up over my back. “More.” she moaned right next to my ear.
She was squeezing the hell out of my dick. It felt good in its own way, but it was a relief when she let off a bit when she leaned into me. I pulled out and entered again, slipping in much more easily. She moved against me, working in opposite thrusting motions. She breathed harder, and so did I. In the bliss of our embrace, I had a moment for the novelty to really set in. She was the first avian I had been intimate with, or even spent this much time close to, so it was all new to me. The softness of her coat of feathers, the pleasant earthy scent of her natural smell masked by a tactful layer of floral perfumes and a whiff of coffee. All the little sounds she made as we thrust against eachother were wonderful too: there were familiar human like ‘oos’ and ‘aas’ mixed in with a smattering of soft chirrups and coos no human could make.
And that’s overlooking the way she gripped onto me, almost pulling me in with that muscled coochie of hers.
I quickly became lost in the rhythm penetrating with her again, pushing harder and faster, as she alternated between bearing down on me and building tension then loosening and going buttery smooth and soft, pulling me back from the brink of orgasm just enough to keep going.
Near the end, while I was penetrating deeply into her, she rolled her head back and an open beaked moan slipped from her mouth. She strangled it halfway out, clamping her beak shut and holding the back of her hand to the tip of her beak while laughing nervously, clearly embarrassed and worried someone might overhear. The expression was absolutely adorable, and it finally did me in. With that image clearly in mind, and a couple more deep thrusts, I came. She clenched down on me hard, locking me in as bliss exploded through my body. I filled her with squirt after squirt of semen, and in the moments of clarity following, was I ever glad we were different species and didn’t have to worry about any unexpected pregnancies, because I was deep inside her when I filled her up.
In the last moments before my virility went dormant, I gave her a few satisfied pumps, then slumped. We both sighed happily and leaned together in eachothers’ embrace for a minute, breathing heavily. Though I was mostly flaccid then, she held me inside of her, stroking me with those phenomenal muscles in an undulating motion like a dairyman would milk the udder of a cow. As we sat there interlocked, the clarity following my orgasm heightened the sublime feelings which had been overshadowed by more carnal, animalistic drives. We had known eachother for years, and seen eachother on a near daily basis for about that long, but there had never been anything more than a neighborly relationship before today. Feeling her intimately like this was exciting as in that moment it seemed somehow to solidify that history by adding another layer of trust and intimacy upon it, and I was incredibly glad to feel her naked body upon mine, our sexes locked together, and to let her feel me in the same way. The gentle stroking of her inner muscles only helped cement this thought, the stimulation a soft, pleasant reminder that we were feeling each others’ most intimate parts with our own.
For a while, in the amber sunlight and pink clouds of early morning, surrounded by plants in bloom, with her and her slate feathers leaned against me, bare breasts pressed into my chest, feeling our sexes together, everything was perfect. I ran my hands down her back, stroking her feathers for a long time, but then, in that early morning bliss, we heard a door open on the balcony above us and we both bolted up. We exchanged a frantic glance, then she hastily slung the apron back over her front and started tying it up while I collected my pants and quickly slipped back into them.
Cautiously venturing out from under the cover of the arched trellis, I looked up, spotting for where the sound came. When I saw nobody on the balconies, or visible in any of the windows I discretely waved her over and we darted back into her coffee shop.
She quickly darted upstairs, hesitating a moment to say “I’ll be right back down,” and I was given one last look at her ass as she shook a tailfeather and rushed upstairs. Not wholly sure what to do from there, I washed up in the sink, then returned to my sketchbook and began furiously finishing the sketch I had started earlier before the memory faded.
I already had a rough draft on paper by the time she returned downstairs now fully dressed in khaki shorts and a black t-shirt. I flipped the page on my work in progress to hide it and we exchanged amorous smirks. “I’ll make us a refreshment,” she said, heading over to the counters,
“That sounds very good.” I resumed drawing on a new page, focusing on the contents of the shop, but her movement continued to catch my eye and, though she was fully clothed now, just looking at her got me hot and bothered enough for a second round. Judging by her glances back at me, she was thinking similarly. She came over to me a few minutes later with some matcha and honey in warm oat milk, and sat down on the couch next to me and leaned in, reclining her head against mine. We sipped in silence, enjoying the presence and touch of each other for a long while and, as much as I wanted to take her then and there, and how much she would probably have enjoyed it, I restrained myself and only let my hand wander to her now clothed inner thigh.
We spent a long time together like that, until the jingle of the front door’s bell sent her bolting upright which a sharp gasp. Whipping around a touch too quickly to be casual, she turned to regard a weary looking harpy wearing a business suit and carrying a briefcase in the claws of his wings. Peering over his glasses, he stammered for a moment, then hunched a little, asking “I hope I’m not too early for some fresh coffee – I’m a little short on time.”
“No, absolutely not Mr. Faustus. I set some to brew at sunrise.”
“Thank goodness,” he sighed, walking up to the counter and checking a watch he pulled from his pocket. His tired eyes glanced over to me for just a moment as he walked past my seat, but that was the last indication he gave towards our amorous activity.
The normal work day began soon after – the first shift staff arrived, helping her meet the surging demand for coffee to wake a new day’s worth of sleepy townsfolk. In the hustle and bustle, I picked a secluded table and returned to work on my sketch, staying far longer than I had originally planned.
But it was worth it.
By eleven o’ clock, when things began to calm down, I had turned the sketch into a full, shaded drawing. Pleased with my work, I carefully tore it out, then closed the book on it to wait for a lull in the new orders, then approached the counter. Discretely, I caught her attention, pulled her aside, and flipped open to the drawing, “This is the moment where you really drew me in. Here,” I said, passing it to her. “I want you to have it.”
She looked down at the drawing. It was one of her wearing only the apron barely concealing her breasts in that moment earlier in the day where she passed me that first drink, with the corner of her beak tweaked into that playful smile, and an eager desire twinkling in her eyes.
“It’s… it’s. Wonderful,” she said aweing, giving a warm chuckle. “You did an incredible job.”
She was right, I had done an excellent job capturing that one, fleeting but oh so wonderful moment. “Thank you. I had a good reference.” I said, smiling at her. “But say now, I’m thinking about coming back around a bit after closing for another drink, and maybe make another drawing.” I playfully cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you’re up for some more fun, of course.”
Her face lit up with that playful twinkle once again, and in that moment, her expression and the drawing’s were one and the same.
