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This was the best part of Ronnie’s day.

She was early for work, giving herself plenty of time to grab a coffee at the cafe on the next block. Stepping carefully over the railroad crossing, she glanced into the window of the apothecary. Her eyes searched it as she passed, but found only moody orange light and magical offerings glowing in glassware.

After the cafe made quick work of her “black eye” (a coffee with two shots of espresso), she was back in front of the apothecary. Her heart fluttered at the sight of the girl in the shop–shaggy cinnamon hair, tight clothes, and a sleeve made of ink. Busily resetting jars and vials in their right places, she didn’t notice as Ronnie lingered, staring at her through the window.

Ronnie didn’t know her–a rarity in such a small town, especially considering their similar aesthetics–but she thought about her plenty. She looked stylish and put-together in a way that made Ronnie envious. Probably smart too, given the Ivy League branding on her tee. She wondered what sat behind that logo, what she kept hidden in those high-waisted jeans; she had ideas, of course, though calling them fantasies would be more accurate.

She wondered how a girl like that would end up here in this miserable town, though she would probably never know. She didn’t dare to step foot in that shop to find out, and she had never seen her anywhere else. Ronnie assumed she kept to the nicer part of town, far from where Ronnie made her rounds.

Continuing down the path toward the bar where she worked, her daydream was cut short by an errant step. She let out a yelp as her toe caught the train rail and she tumbled forward, her coffee emptying itself as the cup tumbled into the road.

Embarrassed, she rose to her knees and brushed her hands.

“Are you okay?” came a sweet voice from behind.

Ronnie turned to see the shop girl, already shuffling toward her.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I wasn’t paying attention–”

“You’re bleeding! Follow me, we’ll get you cleaned up.”

“I’m fine. I work right there,” Ronnie insisted, wishing she could crawl into the ditch and never be seen again.

“Nonsense. Come on, I’ve got everything we need.” The girl had her hand under Ronnie’s arm, pulling her to her feet, then dragging her toward the shop.

“I can’t. Sorry. The owner and I–uh–”

“She’s not here. It’s just me. Relax.”

The girl led them through the door and patted the counter. “Sit right here, I’ll grab the kit.”

Ronnie reluctantly leaned against the counter, fingering the fresh hole in the knee of her yoga pants. Her fingers came back bloody and specked with gravel. She filled with a sense of irony that this is how she’d finally meet such a girl. Clumsy, scuffed, and on her way to flash her tits for rent money. She wished the confidence of her work persona carried over outside that dingy place.

The shop girl set a small plastic crate on the counter, looking Ronnie’s leg up and down. “I think you’re going to have to take those off, dear.”

Ronnie’s nerves stood on end as she slid her pants down and pulled herself onto the counter.

“I’ll stitch them up before you go. Can’t show up to work with a hole in your knee!”

“Oh, trust me, they won’t notice.”

“Hm,” she said, inspecting Ronnie’s knee before digging into the crate and returning with a square of wet gauze. “I’m Jo, by the way.”

“Ronnie,” she said, nervously shifting in place as Jo crouched eye-level with her knee. “Wait, what’s that?”

“Alcohol… to clean it out… disinfect…”

“Oh,” Ronnie said, feeling a bit silly that she assumed it was something “magical”. She hissed at the sting when it hit her wound, but the hand on her calf made the pain fade quickly.

“So. You know my aunt.”

“Do I?”

“You said something about you and the owner of the shop. That’s my aunt.”

“Oh, uh. Let’s just say she probably doesn’t have anything nice to say about me.”

“You were one of her students?” Jo asked, her eyes fixating on her careful work on Ronnie’s knee.

“Sort of. I wasn’t the best student…” With a sigh, she continued, “She saw me in detention. A lot. I don’t think she’d be happy to see me again.”

“She’s very old-school. ‘Tough love’. I wouldn’t take it too personally.”

Jo opened a pair of bandages, placing them in an X over the scrape. Her hands lingered on Ronnie’s legs, cradling her knees between them as her thumbs softly stroked. “You know I’ve always heard a kiss makes it heal faster.”

“From who? Your aunt?”

Jo chuckled quietly, “Yes, actually.” Looking up at Ronnie expectantly, her face was too sweet to resist.

Ronnie replied in a playful tone. “Go ahead then. If you insist.”

Jo pressed her smiling lips to the bandages, pecking once, twice, then a third time, and Ronnie felt herself flush.

“See? You’re getting your color back already!” Jo’s hands remained on Ronnie’s knees while she stood up, her gaze still locked on Ronnie’s eyes. “I’m glad you finally came in.”

Ronnie’s breath faltered. Her eyes fell, but got caught on the way down. Jo’s pink lips washed in the orange light. Her nipples pressing against her tight tee. Those inches of flat belly above her jeans. The red skull tattooed on her forearm. Her hand as it traced up her thigh and caught her fingers.

Tucking her legs under herself, Ronnie leaned forward, letting her fingers and Jo’s slip between each other’s. Jo’s eyelids fell as her lips parted, awaiting Ronnie’s mouth.

“I should go,” Ronnie said, sliding off the counter to pull her ripped pants back on. Flustered, she was out of the shop and past the fateful railroad crossing before she could breathe again.

The loud atmosphere and routine of pouring drinks kept Ronnie distracted. So too, did the lascivious attention thrown at her by over-eager men offering bigger tips for a sneaky flash. Here, she felt comfortable. Powerful. Her messy little home in the tougher world outside its walls.

The thrill of her chance encounter with Jo remained captive in her belly; she channeled it into drunk eyes that sought a mutuality to their desire. Playing into that fantasy was what paid her bills, but her own fantasy felt painfully present. Jo seemed to be everywhere she looked–in the crowd at the end of the bar, in the shadows around the corner, seated on the other side of the pool table.

Wishful thinking maybe, though Ronnie dreaded Jo ever seeing this side of her. This was confirmation of all the things her aunt ever lectured her about. Being correct didn’t make her any less of a bitch. Maybe if she had been more supportive than scolding, she wouldn’t have ended up here.

Ronnie knew that wasn’t true though; she was here by choice as much as circumstance, doing the best she could with what she had. And Jo’s aunt was just noise, no different from the superficial validation she got from her horny customers. It was too much to think about as she finished her shift. But outside, after close, the gravel lot offered peace.

Quiet.

“Mind if I walk you home?” Jo asked from the corner of the building.

Ronnie froze, then slowly turned. “My escape didn’t put you off?”

“It took long enough to get you to come in. I assumed it wouldn’t be for long.”

Ronnie shifted on her feet. “Don’t take it personally?”

Jo shook her head, smiling. In the moonlight, she looked even better. The orange hue of the shop was designed to create a mystique and make the goods pop off the shelves, but it did her looks no favors.

“My place is kind of a hike…”

“Mine isn’t. But it does mean crossing those tracks again.”

“I can be more careful,” Ronnie said, gravel crunching under her chunky mules as she closed the distance. Her hand slipped easily into Jo’s and she tried not to get lost in her eyes as they headed back toward the shop.

“So, uh, what have you been up to this evening?”

“Waiting,” Jo said with a smile.

“Not out here, I hope.”

“Nope. Careful now,” Jo teased when they reached the crossing. “Don’t want any more bandages.”

“How else am I going to get more of your healing kisses?” Ronnie’s belly stirred at her own boldness.

“I don’t think that’s a problem you’re going to have.”

Drifting off the path, Jo nodded where she was heading. “I’m back here. Behind the shop.”

“Oh… that’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?!” Jo grinned wide, biting her lip as she backpedaled and took both of Ronnie’s hands.

This wasn’t how Ronnie ever pictured it happening. She never moved this fast; yet, when Jo reached for the door, Ronnie’s free hand went immediately to the side of her face and her lips followed. Their kiss had been brewing for hours, but its origins stretched for months.

Ronnie’s foot kicked the door shut behind them, her steps continuing until Jo was against the wall. In the darkness, they traded kisses and gasps behind the curtain of Ronnie’s long brown hair. Their pent-up desires flowed with their hands over each other’s bodies, Ronnie cupping the heft of Jo’s braless tits through her tee, her nipples still tantalizingly hard.

As Jo’s tongue flicked across their lips, her hands searched for grip on Ronnie’s tiny ass like she was afraid she’d flee again. Weeks of trying to entice “coffee girl” into the shop, the gift that was her stumble outside, the boldness in her closing-time move at the bar, had all paid off–so far–but she wanted so much more. To feel her naked body, to hear the sounds she’d make when touched just right, to know what she was drinking all those days when she tried not to be obvious about lingering outside the shop window.

Giving in to boldness, Ronnie pulled Jo’s shirt up. She didn’t need any light to perceive the perfection she’d revealed; she had her hands, her mouth. Jo’s nipples tasted like the kind of honey you buy from the farmer at a roadside stand–not overly sweet, but floral and complex–and her tongue battered them for all the teasing they’d done. Her fingers slid down the soft fuzz on Jo’s belly, under expensive denim and skimpy cotton, over a patch of silky hair, to find the heat of her desire, wondering what sparked it and how long it had burned for this moment.

Jo moaned against Ronnie’s lips as she felt her gentle, determined touch. She popped the button of her jeans, feeling the teeth of her zipper separate one by one as Ronnie’s wrist moved even lower. Her hips flexed, offering herself up, begging to feel the rest of her hand press against her. With her jeans sagging, she finally peeled them down.

Ronnie smiled against her lips, her fingers accepting the invitation. Two fingers, shallow, brought a hitch to Jo’s breath. Sinking deeper, they twisted and straightened before twisting again as hips angled for more. As quickly as things had progressed, they were going better than Ronnie had imagined possible. Her nerves were nearly gone, replaced by the swell of infatuation and fantasy becoming lived experience.

Fingers digging into Ronnie’s shoulder and waist, Jo’s body tensed. Her breath faltered. She felt fingers curl inside her and press. Stroking, swirling, only to press again. It wasn’t usually so easy for her. So shameless, her hips chasing the fingers of someone she’d barely met. Maybe the happenstance of their encounter felt like fate or maybe it had just been too long since she’d gotten laid, but she was on the brink and Ronnie continued with all the right moves.

“Cum for me,” Ronnie whispered over the wet sounds of her fingers hard at work. “I need it and I know you do too.”

The desire in Ronnie’s voice, the suggestion of driving want, put Jo over the edge. Her breathing grew frantic and she felt her body bear down on Ronnie’s fingers in aggressive waves. Her arms clutched at her shoulders, trying to keep herself from crashing to the ground as pleasure rocked her senses.

Ronnie’s face beamed with pride in the darkness. It wasn’t only for Jo’s orgasm, but for being here in the first place.

“How about you now?” Jo purred in her ear.

“What about me?”

“When I kissed your knee, I wondered what you’d do if I kept going. If I continued up your thigh. Pulled your bodysuit aside. How you look. How you feel. How you taste.”

It was too dark to see, but Jo knew what the sound was–the snaps in the crotch of Ronnie’s bodysuit popping open inside her pants. She also knew what it meant, but the words were a devastating confirmation.

“Find out.”

Jo’s hands took Ronnie by the waist, angling her and guiding her backward until they reached Jo’s bed. She whipped off her tee and switched on a lamp that cast a warm glow over the room. But Ronnie’s attention was on what had taunted her all day–Jo’s perfect tits. Round and perky, bouncing with her steps; rosy hard nipples that begged to be pinched and licked.

Ronnie was quickly out of her ruined yoga pants, the loose end of her bodysuit dangling between her thighs as she sat with her feet on the edge of the bed. She caught a flash of Jo’s smile between her knees before Jo dropped to the floor. She pushed the bodysuit away with one hand while her mouth descended on Ronnie.

With a long, flat lick, Jo tasted Ronnie–her salty skin, the dusky flavor of her excitement. Ronnie’s legs curled over her shoulders, pulling her tighter, and her fingers wove through her hair to keep her there. Right there, harder, faster, the tugs said, and Jo was happy to comply. Her tongue lapped over her delicate inner lips, outside, inside, and back, seeking to explore and taste every bit of her. Ronnie was marvelous.

Moaning at the subtle stretch from Jo’s dainty fingers, Ronnie felt sweet tension peaking in her belly. She’d wanted this for so long. So many stolen glimpses through the shop window, leading to nights fantasizing about Jo’s touch, her round butt and narrow waist, the jiggle of her perpetually-braless tits–none of it prepared her for Jo’s presence. Her skill.

“Fucking hell, Jo, that feels incredible.”

Jo slid another finger in, pushed it deep, drawing them back out with a sharp curl that she was sure would finish the job. Her tongue continued to sweep around Ronnie’s fat clit, feeling the tremor in her thighs, the need in her hips.

“This… might… be… wet…” Ronnie warned on sharp breaths.

“Give it to me, doll.”

It wasn’t much, but Jo felt it on her lips. A sour little splash shot from Ronnie’s clenching walls, paired with a wail from her mouth, and a violent arch of her back against the bed.

Her whole body shook as Jo kissed her way up it, dragging the bodysuit higher and higher until their lips touched and it covered nothing. Straddling Ronnie’s waist, she kissed her deeply then sat up to look her over.

“I can finally compliment you on your gorgeous boobs,” Jo said with a cagey grin.

Confusion lit Ronnie’s face for a second. “You were there! Weren’t you?”

“Only for a short while. I couldn’t get up the nerve to order a drink, much less tip for a flash with all those boys watching.”

“Sneaky…”

“Says the one who has been spying on me from the road for months.”

Ronnie’s cheeks turned redder. “You’re so much better up close. Your eyes… your skin… the way you smell. Those lips and that tongue of yours…”

“I’ve got something even better… if you want…” Jo said, toying with the band of her underwear. “You’ve teased me from afar for far too long, coffee girl. You ready to show me what you can do?”

Ronnie’s smile stretched wider, her finger beckoning. “Come and get it.”