Coffee
#2 of Adult short stories
The market city of Salisbury was gloriously quiet. Karl strolled slowly down the street, hands in pockets. It was early. Workers bustled past him in a steady stream. Those in suits towards offices, those in uniform to shops and eateries. A few keen civilian shoppers were waiting for the shutters to rise and commerce to begin. The broad shouldered badger saw it all and smiled.
His walking boots fell into the slow, steady step of policemen and soldiers the world over. No rush, steady, measured and able to be kept up all day if need be. A student in blazer, tie and school uniform bumped his shoulder, trying to get past at a run. The poor fellow nearly hurtled to the ground. It had been like running into a stone column. The young dog gasped an apology and was away and running again, obviously late. Karl grinned.
Salisbury was old. The spire of it's famous cathedral jutted proudly into the sky, surrounded by scaffolding. That was a shame. Karl would have to buy a postcard or seek out an archive photograph in order to do the building proper justice in his scrapbook of visited destinations.
Karl hailed from a small town in Texas. His childhood had been slow and content. Loving parents, a good home and a decent education. His quick dark eyes missed nothing and a near photographic memory served him well. He listened to everything and saw all. His observant nature was famous back home.
The badger paused before a stone arch carved from sandstone blocks. An ornate coat of arms was at the top. He studied it. Guild marking perhaps? This was an old district, and many of the buildings were converted from old tanners, smithies and the like. Someone of wealth and power had commissioned the carving. Karl pulled out his camera, checked the street was clear of cars before stepping back to take a photograph. He was fast falling in love with this place. It was drowning in history. Each old building had a provenance to be traced.
Karl liked to travel. America was his home and he adored her, but there was so much to see beyond her shores. Itchy feet and a longing to travel had led to him joining the army. After that came the Air Force. It had worked. He had been to places he had never even dreamed of. Germany, the Czech Republic, Iraq, Somalia. Each place had it's history to learn, things to see and culture to study. Studying the past had been a wonderful way to survive the often harsh trials the present had to offer.
He stepped back onto the pavement as a taxi rumbled past. He glanced at it, listened hard. Diesel. Modern. Well maintained. Shape of the machine and the black paint a nod to the famous machines from the British capital in the fifties and sixties. Two people in the rear. Married couple. Tourists enjoying their retirement given their age. Not used to travel and exploration given the furious movement of maps and guide books.
Karl sniffed again. Fading exhaust fumes and something else. Coffee. Not mass market stuff. Freshly ground. Baking. Spices. Despite an early and very hearty breakfast he heard his stomach growl. Who was he to argue? He went in search of the source of this latest enticement. It took a while to find. Tucked away down a narrow street that still bore cobbles. He bent down to trail his claws over the smooth surface of the stones. A delight compared to the usual concrete or asphalt. Tarmac as the British called it, after Mr Macadam who invented the stone and tar surface.
He straightened. Before him was the cafe. Old. Family business. No franchise here. Wooden frame with highly polished glass. A soft blue tint to the giant pane. Reinforced modern stuff set in an original frame. New mixed with old. No modernising for the sake of it here. A large, golden decal in a stylised handwritten font. Ruth's. He inhaled again. Bread, cakes, coffee, cocoa. Sugar and preserves riding the warm gust from ovens. Excellent advertising without vocal or visual intrusion.
Stepping inside Karl drank it all in. Little round tables. Some crowded, some with just a couple. White tablecloths. Fabric napkins. Class over economy. Coffee, tea, hot cocoa topped with hand whipped cream. Fresh fruit smoothies. He grinned. The proprietor moved with the times but did not neglect the classics.
There was a queue at the counter. Suits for managers, blazers for students keen to impress, high viability and very grubby clothing for workmen. All waiting for steaming cardboard cups. A roaring trade being done. A young cat hurried up when she saw him lingering just beyond the ever moving queue of customers at the till.
"We are full just now but if you'd like to wait a table will free up..." one did before she could finish. Karl nodded to it. She grinned. He moved to the table and sat down carefully, setting his backpack beneath his chair. He looked about again. Yes. Every mug was different. Same size but not the same design. Sourced from all over. Same for the teapots and milk jugs. Delightfully quirky. The whole cafe was so quintessentially English.
Karl leant back in his chair, hands on the cloth. He did not fold his arms over his broad chest in case of giving an impression of impatience. The tiny cafe was heaving with people. The street it was on lay far enough from the high street and tourist traps for it to just be seasonal trade. This place was a favourite of the locals. A very good sign. Behind the till a small team was in well practised motion. It like a dance. The girls flowed and swirled past one another. All young. Most looked like university students. Gap year or holiday staff.
He searched for the person in command. Ah, there she was. She came in from a back room in a cloud of dishwasher vapours. Sleeves rolled up. She was broad shouldered, plump and grinning. A rabbit. Brown fur with the beginnings of silver peppering her muzzle. She was soon in animated conversation with her customers as she cleared tables. Not afraid to do the dirty work herself. Never lingering too long with any one person. Not showing favouritism. Answering questions from her staff with a smile and firm commands that held no malice.
The badger was watching the older woman so intently that he only saw the dog coming out the corner of his eye. She cleared his table of dirty crockery. He moved his hands to help but she shooed them away with a giggle. She put a menu before him and was gone with a skip. Happy workers. Wonderful. He turned to the menu and his mouth watered. Such variation! Cakes, soups, sandwiches, hot toasted panini's, salad wraps, baked potatoes, a carvery on Thursdays. A movement at his side.
"Still deciding, love?" It was the rabbit. Order pad in hand, pen in fingers. Not rushing just curious. Her eyes moved to his face. Lingered for a second. Looking at the vicious scar on his jaw. She did not stare nor did she lose composure or look anywhere but at his face. Tact.
"Ah'm new in town." it was a dirty trick to play of course. His Texan drawl to make her underestimate him. Think him a Hick. She did not bite. She just smiled and waited for him to go on, her head tilted slightly to one side. Now it was he that felt a touch foolish. "What would you recommend for somethin' light and tasty?"
"Sweet tooth?" "Uh, sure." "Cream tea. I know we are not in Cornwall, but I bake a mean scone. Would you like bramble jam, or something more usual?" "Bramble's fine." "Tea then, or coffee?" "Tea. Please."
She nodded, finished scribbling and was gone. He stared after her. His cheeks were a little warm and it slowly dawned on him that he might be blushing. The badger grinned. He sat back in his chair and chuckled. He was not kept waiting long. The plump lapine returned with a tray laden with clinking china. Cup, saucer, milk jug and teapot. She placed them all before him. He smiled at her. She smiled back. She walked away. Was that a blush he had seen on her cheeks?
Karl studied the teapot. Yellow. He lifted the lid. Steam rose from deep brown and deliciously scented water. Dark spots swirled. Loose leaf tea. A gauze mesh in the spout. Clever. He poured, adding milk and a little sugar. 'NATO Standard' the British Military called it. Karl tapped the spoon delicately on the rim to shake the tea from the metal. He set it with a click on the saucer and lifted the cup. He sipped. He almost groaned. Full flavour, a rather pleasing and unique blend. A faint hint of cinnamon.
The rabbit returned. She set a plate before him that bore two large, warm raisin scones. A little dish of butter, another of clotted cream and finally a dish of purple-black preserve. He thanked her. She assured him it was no trouble. One of the girls at the counter called for her. She gave a little laugh and was gone. He had been right. She was Jude.
Karl sipped his tea again. Setting the cup down he neatly cut the two scones. They were delightfully fresh and crumbly. He reinforced them with a dab of the butter, then smeared on a layer of the thick clotted cream. The preserve came next. It was thick and he took care to spread it without destroying the scones. When his task was done, he had four little morsels ready and waiting. He bit into the first and paused.
The warm, dry, buttery taste of the scone mixed with the cool cream. Karl chewed carefully. The preserve brought a tart, sweet, flavour to the mouthful that rounded the blended tastes off marvellously. The badger took another bite, then another. He sipped his tea. He soon forgot everything but the baked treat and hot revitalising tea. Everything but the rabbit.
All too soon the scones were gone. He brushed crumbs from his lips and whiskers with a napkin and tidied his table, piling the used little dishes upon his now empty plate. He poured another cup of tea, drinking it with a sigh of utter contentment. The rabbit was whirling gracefully about the tables again. Clearing. Conversing. Laughing. The burly young badger finished his drink and lifted a hand to catch her attention.
The rabbit flowed over to him with a wide, warm and friendly smile. "Fill a little hole?" she asked, setting the plate and teapot on her tray. "Outstanding ma'am. Really outstanding. I'd love your recipes but I'll bet they are a closely guarded secret." "Oh you bake?" a quizzical look of doubt passed over her pretty features. "Ah certainly try. A few immolated disasters here and there, but ah'm a quick study." she laughed.
Karl rather enjoyed it when she laughed. He resolved to make her do it more. Conversation began to build. They shared jokes. Both laughed and smiled. Karl realised she was spending more time with him than she had with the other customers. She cleared his table, brought him his bill. She sold a recipe book. He bought it. She also sold preserves. He bought two jars. Bramble and raspberry. She was going to see a play at the theatre later that evening. He asked to join her. She laughed again, nervously this time. The badger could see her mind whirling. She agreed. He pulled out a map. She marked the playhouse on it. They would meet outside at seven.
The rest of his day seemed to drag along. Fuelled by scones and tea, Karl took in the Cathedral. Photographs soon filled his camera and he did not forget to buy a professional shot of the Cathedral spire. Without the scaffolding and green netting. He returned to his hotel room after a light supper of shepherds pie and a local ale. He showered. He groomed. A little cologne on his neck. A neat white polo shirt, khaki slacks and brown leather shoes. He headed to the theatre early.
She was even earlier. He saw her lingering outside the door to the theatre. A knee length black strapless dress, high heels. White beads at her throat. A little mascara. Dressed to impress. He greeted her. She handed him a ticket. They went inside. She babbled excitedly. He bought wine for them both. They drank, they chatted.
Soon enough they were called in to the play. Sitting side by side they watched the drama unfold. And collapse. Disaster on the stage. Lights failed, microphones malfunctioned. Part of the set collapsed. The actors soldiered on magnificently. When the interval came and the curtain swished down it was to thunderous applause.
Karl and Jude went back to the lobby. More wine. More conversation. They roared with laughter at what they had witnessed. Jude wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. She moved ever closer to Karl. The badger sniffed gently at her perfume. A hint of roses. She looked up into his eyes, cheeks glowing from her laughter and a little more besides. They returned to the auditorium. Mid way through the second act their hands met. Fingers laced. Hearts raced. Neither let go.
A standing ovation to the actors heralded the end of the performance. Karl and Jude stood side by side. The rabbit was so giddy and excited that she even wolf whistled to show her appreciation. Karl watched her eager display with adoration.
Leaving the theatre, Karl and Jude moved on to a quiet little bar. More talk. Even more flirting. Fingers brushing cheeks, hands resting on hands. She faltered. Giddy on wine and desire she spoke fretfully. He was a lot younger than her. Should she be doing this? Karl's answer was simple. He cupped her cheek, looked deep into her eyes and kissed her. He could not help himself. She was perfect. His lips slid tenderly over hers, and he breathed in her surprise. Her wide eyes stared into his. Then they began to drift closed. He deepened the kiss. She caressed the back of his head. The bar closed. They agreed on coffee. They soon forgot.
His hotel was closer. The door shut behind him and they stood facing each other, his bright eyes locked with hers. He stepped forward again. Their lips met. He tasted of her and she of him. His paws moved down to rest on her wide hips, pulling her tight to him. Soft curves pressed to firm muscle. He kissed her harder, passionately, deeply. Her arms wrapped around his neck.
After a fleeting eternity, she broke the kiss. He put a finger to her warm, desire swollen lips. Silencing her before she spoke. A smouldering look was shared. He slowly moved to stand behind her, first stroking her shoulders then arms sliding around her waist. He bent to kiss the back of her neck. He smoothed a hand up her cheek and then back to lift one of her long, lapine ears. He nibbled at the base then moved down to her shoulders.
The older woman closed her eyes. Unable to think, unable to move. Her sensitive neck and shoulders succumbed to his attentions. A small moan. An eager quivering. Heat and desire knotting her belly and making her body tingle. He was so gentle. His hands brushed her sides, making muscles flinch and flutter. They slid forward to caress the soft curve of her belly. She leant back against him, the base of her skull resting on his shoulder. He worshipped her with hands and lips. She gave herself to him without hesitation.
Karl pressed his hands and fingers to her a little firmer. He roved his paws over hips, belly, thighs, rump. She made soft little gasps of delight. Growling he delicately nibbled along her ear. That made her groan and shiver. She smiled and did it again. his fingers started to work the fabric of her dress. She barely noticed when they drifted back. To peel down the zip between her shoulders. He eased it down delicately to reveal the delicate curve of her spine. The clasp of her bra. Thus loosened, it took a simple brush of his fingers to send the dress ruffling the floor. It pooled at her ankles. He admired her frame.
Karl breathed her in. Oh how good she smelled. He pushed his nose into the fur at the base of her neck, and sucked. His tongue teased and his lips nibbled. She wailed for him. Her hands clasped over her chest looking like she was at prayer. The badger moved nimble fingers to unhook her bra. He took her arms, guided them out before her, angled down slightly. He pressed his hips to her ample rear. She pressed back. He bra slid down her arms to flutter to the floor.
The badger gruffed. His hands slid around over her waist and up her ribs. Each hand cupped a heavy breast and lifted it. Feeling the heat, soft fur, the throb of her heart. His thumbs brushed her nipples. They stiffened as she did, gasping for him. He stepped out from behind her. She trembled. He moved before her. She still trembled. He pushed her chin up with his nose, nipping delicately over her throat before biting down where neck met shoulder in a hungry love bite. She stopped trembling.
He guided her to the bed. A gentle push once the back of her knees bumped the mattress was all it took. She sat down heavily upon the covers. He adored how her heavy chest swayed and rolled upon her landing. She crawled backwards up the bed to rest her head on the pillows. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her black, lacy underwear. With a wiggle of her hips she pushed them down her thighs. She looked at him hungrily. He looked back just as eagerly.
Karl stood beside the bed. She panted as she watched him. He smiled and moved without haste. His shirt peeled up over his toned body. He draped it over a chair. He unlaced his shoes and set them and the socks under the chair. His belt buckled clicked, he hung his pants over the shirt. He placed his wallet on the night stand, then pushed down his boxers. She gasped at what she saw. It jutted proudly, bobbing faintly with his heartbeat. He leant over her. She damn near snarled and pulled him down.
He planted feather soft kissed over her throat, neck, and bosom. His tongue flicked each thick teat in turn before he moved back up her mouth. She arched her back to grind her heavy chest into his taut, strong body. Her hands roved his back. Her legs rose to rest heels near his stubby tail. The badger growled faintly, pinning her head against the sheets with a hungry kiss. She swooned beneath him, heart fluttering madly. He wanted her. She needed him. Reaching over to grab his wallet, he pulled a square of foil from within. She panted into his ear as he tore the packet. She could not see it but she knew what it was that he was doing was enough. It was a statement of intent. The plump rabbit was not about to protest.
His heated breath washed over her face, mingling with her own as he lay over her. She whimpered faintly, staring into his eyes. He looked right back. His gaze was calm, determined, adoring. His rump flexed beneath her fingers. Latex covered heat pushed forward. It found resistance. Not for long. With a bunch of muscles that made his buttocks hard as iron he rolled his hips forward. Jude moaned and wrapped arms and legs ever so tightly about him. Trembling and drawing him in.
The badger rested his weight on his elbows, hips rocking gently. She was so warm about him. Silken walls, damp desire and the pulse of her heart. He lavished tender, heated kisses upon her lips and face. He pushed in deeper. She called out for him. Before long his hips met hers. She was gasping. He was panting. He did not pull back. Instead he began to nudge his hips forward, pressing fur and flesh tighter together before relaxing. Her nails raked delicately down his broad back. Her inner walls tightened.
"Oh, Karl!" she sighed as he began to make love to her in earnest. His movements were smooth, unhurried yet powerful. He glided in and out of her trembling core at a steady pace that brought soft gasps and yelps to her lips. He watched her face as she tossed her head from side to side. Lost in her bliss. He moved faster. Her chest began to roll, sway and slap beneath him. He could not help but watch that movement. Her back arched, pushing her body up to him tighter. He grunted and moved faster. He felt a churning in his loins and his lips parted in a long, loud groaning growl. She dug her heels into his lower back and gripped his shoulders tight. He bared his teeth and buried his face in her neck, the mattress creaking as he made love to this most beautiful of women.
With a sharp cry she abruptly tensed. Her body twitched, bucked, convulsed. The heat around him increased, as did the slick sounds of desire filling the air. Her walls gripped him hard and stayed tight. It was too much. With a loud bark he hunched over her. Muscles flexed and bunched. His hips pressed as tight to her as they would go, tail quivering as he shot his passion directly into her. Caught by the condom. They quivered together, swift gasps filling the air. They slowly relaxed. He kissed her full on the lips as she basked in the afterglow. Gripping the base of the condom carefully, he pulled clear of her. She moaned.
She lay on her back, a hand on her heart. She watched as he sat up, snapped off the condom and neatly tied a knot in it. The creamy bulge of fluid at the tip attested to his impressive volume. She touched a paw to her flushed face and he smiled lovingly down to her. He kissed her lips again, deftly tossing the used condom into the trash. He settled in beside her. She nuzzled in against him. A perfect moment shared between lovers. It was also a promise of things to come.
Months passed. A letter arrived from Karl. He would be on leave again soon. She resolved to send him the play listings. As well as his letter, the envelope contained a photograph. Six airmen in parachutes and wearing grim Victorian expressions. They were sat before a Hercules transport aircraft on a desert dispersal stand. Before them was a table laden with plates of scones and jam. The two jars of Jude's own preserve were at centre stage on the table. Each of the airmen held a saucer and teacup in various poses of exaggerated suppage. Karl sat in the middle. The caption on the back simply read: '82nd Para Rescue USAF. More Tea Vicar? To Jude and team.'
She would have it framed for the wall.