Lunch

There is a young guy who is a waiter at the cafe where I eat lunch, with short hair and a baby face. He wears an apron tied around his waist. He wears his black pants so low on his hips that they only barely cover half his arse. With his white shirt still tucked into his pants, the soft white cotton covers the top of his cheeks, clinging like lycra. What a sexy, peach of an arse it is too. I tell you, I nearly get a boner sitting there watching the tops of his cheeks working, as he walks past with the next plate in his hands. What perfect man mounds (I can't believe I wrote that) for sure. I just know, I'd like to part them and lick him until he was nice and wet.

Too much information?

Fuck it!

“What would you like?” he asks.

“Shouldn’t that be ‘are you ready to order’?” I reply.

“Sure, if you like,” he says.

“Well, go on, say it,” I say.

I can hear him breath in. I watch he surprising taught chest expand. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“Because, I know what I’d like?”

“Well, that’s a good start.”

“But, I am pretty sure it’s not on the menu?”

“I’m not following?”

“That is a shame.”

“Because I can only help you with things that are, actually, on the menu?”

“Are you sure about that?”

He pulls his eye brows into an adorable furrow on his forehead. “I’m… pretty sure.”

“Because I would dispute that…”

“Would you?”

“Yes, if there was anyone who could help me to what I’d really like, it would be you.”

He tilted his head and squinted his eye, his expression said I have no idea what you are talking about, which was a great shame. If I was really honest, his expression also said, I wish this guy would get on with it, I have other customers to get to.

I pictured him face first over the table, having loosened off his belt and jeans waist button, sliding his pants off his beefy butt and down over his thick masculine thighs, him looking me in the eye saying, “Would you like a piece of this…” of course, if it was really happening, he’d have a lubed finger working his hole as he said it.

He cleared his throat.

I came back into the moment and found myself staring directly at his not insubstantial crotch, that being where his sexy face had been in my mind just moments ago.

I instantly raised my eyes up to his eyes, just as he self consciously moved his left hand in front of himself.

The colour of his blushing cheeks gave me some idea that he might have twigged as to what it was I really fancied.

Shields up. “I’ll have coffee, thanks,” I said.

He turned and walked away, and there it was…