I’m an inveterate people watcher. I love to watch beautiful women, attractive women, and semi-attractive women too. I’m a sexist people watcher; it’s women I like to watch. Often, it’s at Temple Coffee over on Broadway and Seventeenth St. 

It kind of reminds me of what Hooters might be like. Not that I know; they closed the ones in my town, and I never even drove in their parking lot. Anyway, whoever hires for Tempest must have a breast fetish that’s the same as mine. I need to meet him someday. 

Today the baristas are Joy, Meridith, and Zenith, and all are a sight to behold., with three wonderful matched sets of ta-tas. They were all equally attractive, except for Zenith’s. It wasn’t so much that they were more attractive; it was who they belonged to. This was the first time I’d ever been more attracted to a set of tits because of who they belonged to.

Do you ever feel you’re in a Charles Dickens story, you know, like the orphan looking into a candy store? You can see the candy and smell the chocolate and peppermint, but you can’t afford to buy it. That’s the way I felt until I girded my loins, gritted my teeth, put on my big boy pants, and asked Zenith to go out for lunch. I was on tenterhooks when I asked, expecting a no or even a Hell No. 

What I got was a maybe, possibly, next week. That wasn’t what my ego needed. She was more indecisive than me. I took it for a no and decided to regroup and see if there was someone more desperate than Zenith I could ask, someone my speed. 

Having been essentially shot down, I kind of stayed away from the candy store. I was tired of looking through the window at candy I couldn’t taste. That lasted until Tuesday, when I broke down and went in to get another look at the candy selection.

When I went to the counter to order my coffee, Zenith was working the register. After paying, Zenith looked at me and said, “How about tomorrow?” When she saw my puzzled look, she added, “For lunch, you asked me about lunch, didn’t you?” She hesitated and finished, “You were serious, weren’t you?”

“Lunch, tomorrow?" Right. lunch. "Okay, what time can you get off?” I said. I was surprised—more than surprised. Wow, she accepted. I didn’t expect that. Now where? Asking a beautiful girl for lunch can be difficult. Get over one hurdle, and then you see the next few. 

“Oh, I’m not working tomorrow. God, I only get a half hour, and that means I have to bring it. Where would you like to meet?”

Hell, now what? Maybe nicer than The Lunch Spot? Think Tim!

“Uh, Noah’s, or if you’re in the mood for Chinese, Royal China Cafe.” I paused and added, “Or if you have a place to suggest, I could pick you up and you could show me.

She smiled and said, “Do you know The Meeting Place, over on 24th? If you want to have a little time, we could meet at one after the rush. How does that sound?”

“Uh, great, should I pick you up?“

"No, Tim, the first time I always drive myself. It’s just routine girl stuff.”

Okay, then I got my coffee and sat outside, thinking. That question, guys ask each other: do you have game? My answer would be, "What the hell is that? I don’t even know what it is."

I was at the Meeting Place fifteen minutes early and waited in the parking lot for Zenith to show. 

When she got there, all I could see were the shorts and tits. There was a lot more skin showing and no tan lines. Anywhere. We went inside, with me being careful to look her in the eyes. Well, I tried, at least. 

“How do you like working at the candy shop, Zenith?”

She looked at me quizzically, saying, “The Candy Shop?”

I flushed red; I could feel the heat. And I said, “The Tempest, I mean.”

“Temple, you mean. You said the candy shop; I heard it.” She said it with a question on her face. I could see that she wasn’t going to drop it.

“Um, that’s what I’ve called it. All the beautiful baristas, and you can look but not touch. You know, like in a Dickens book with the orphan looking in.”

“Oh, so you’re the orphan that wants a taste?” She leaned over and kissed me. “There, you got a taste. If you want more, you’ll have to ask for it.”

She smiled at me. God, it was beautiful. “Tim, you’re adorable when you blush. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said adorable, but you are. Come on this side of the booth, and you can get some more tastes.”

I’d thought my face was flushed before, but it must have been crimson when I moved. This time, when she kissed me, she took her time. When she was through, I could see that the nipples on her breasts were hard. My dick was, too. I was hoping my dick wasn’t as obvious as her nipples. 

During lunch, she shared her schedule with me; most days, it was seven to three thirty. When I could, I’d come by for coffee just before she got off; she’d go in the back and change out of her uniform blouse, and we’d sit together for a bit. 

Over the next few weeks, I was paying less attention to her breasts and more to her. 

Am I getting like my brother? He’s a one-girl guy, well, since he met Bev. He’s married, and they have two kids already. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t even looked since he met her. I’ve never been as comfortable with women as Ben has. Maybe that’s why Zenith is so interesting to me. 

It was early June when I counted the times we’d been out together. No counting the times we’d just met and talked, it was about six times. I’ve read the articles in Cosmopolitan about dating. No sex until the third date; I was so far behind; was she wondering why? I don’t find her attractive? This is usually where I get called out. Called out or out of bounds, I’ve never figured it out.

Positive consent is the new mantra; does that mean I have to ask her if I can do anything? Hmm, or are they only big things? What if you don’t know what that means? That’s another reason guys like me never get the girl. That's what that means.

I am who I am, so I guess I need to talk to her.

The next Friday, we had an early dinner after she got off at three thirty. I decided I was going to ask her—well, kind of. After ordering dinner, I guided the conversation to Highway 1 up the California coast. “Hey Zenith, have you ever been up the California coast north of San Francisco? I remember going up there with my parents; it was a beautiful trip. Would you be interested in going up to Mendocino? It would be a two-day trip, one day up and one day back.”

I stopped there, waiting for her reaction. What would she say—yes, great idea, no, never, or maybe, one room or two? I’d be happy with a two-room answer. 

“No, I haven’t gone up there; you’ve done the trip with your parents?”

“Yes, it was a family trip, but it was beautiful, even for a teenager. If you’re interested, my brother has a Miata convertible, I think I could borrow. it, um, maybe. That would make it a spectacular trip; if we came back on Highway 101, we could spend some time at Mendocino looking around. Three days would allow an entire day exploring the coast there.”

I tried to pitch my voice like it wasn’t a huge ask. To make it easier to say yes.

“If you haven’t done a trip like that in a Miata, you don’t know what you’re missing. What do you think?”

“Your brother has a Miata you can borrow?”

“Well, I’ll have to ask him. If he’s got something planned, then no. But if he doesn't,? Then I think I can talk him into it. Be sure you have a bandana for your hair if you say yes.”

Zenith looked at me, smiled, and said, “You’re sure you can show me a good time?”

Did she mean that the way it sounds? God damn. I hope I’m not misunderstanding it.

“I guess that depends on whether it’s one room or two.” I blurted out. I felt my face get warm. That was so out of character, but it was out there now. 

She laughed, “So, one room it is then. Um, can you get three days off? A day at Mendocino sounds like fun. I can probably get someone to cover for me, so it could be three days.”

We finished eating, and I went with her to her car and kissed her. When she kissed me back, it started getting serious—more than just a casual kiss. We were in the open, and I stopped before we went beyond kissing. I was breathless, and so was she. 

The next day I got a call from Zenith saying she’d had to get a ride to work, asking me to get her back home. There weren’t any objections from me; I was going to find out where she lived. 

Yes, when I got to her place, she invited me in, and when we stepped inside, she turned around and gave me the kiss we hadn’t been able to accomplish before. Was this consent? Certainly for kissing, but how much more? I was too timid to try for more usually, but she was convincing me she wanted more. 

Hell, what was I thinking? She was thinking about going up the California coast to Mendocino for three days and sharing one room. I don’t know where she’s going to draw the line, but she’s going to have to draw it.

We were on her couch, kissing. I was unbuttoning her blouse and her kisses became more intense. She was kissing my chest while my hands were exploring her breasts. 

That was when she drew the line. “Tim, let’s save the rest for our trip. Okay?”

When she smiled at me, I almost lost it.

Slowly, Tim, take it slowly. 

“I’m enjoying your hands on my breasts, Tim, but no further. Okay? I don’t want to stop what we’re doing.”

I wasn’t a virgin, exactly, but almost; this was heaven for me. I was touching her breasts with my hands. I was touching Zenith’s breasts. Skin to skin, not through her clothes. 

When I finally left, my brain was in meltdown mode. It was hard as hell to leave, in more ways than one. 

Next week is going to be memorable in a lot of ways; just act naturally.

I was going by every day, just so I could see her. The day before we left, I told her I’d gotten Brian to let me use the Miata, so we needed to not be too extravagant with luggage. 

I picked her up at eight so we’d miss the worst of the traffic, and drove into San Francisco so I could take her over the Golden Gate, so she could see it. I was trying to impress Zenith so she could see things she’d never seen. The Golden Gate Bridge, the California Coast, and a hotel room with me.

We stopped at the Marin lookout, where the view of the city and the bridge was spectacular. Then we headed up 101, followed Highway 1 off, and went along the coast. My memory was right; the trip was spectacular. The five-hour trip took over eight hours because of all the overlooks we stopped at and the lunch on the way. I enjoyed it and Zenith did too, if all her signs of affection were any guide. 

As we passed Sea Ranch and Pt. Arena, I could tell that Zenith was getting nervous. When we were closer to Mendocino, I stopped where we could walk down to the beach. She was nervous: I was nervous, so I decided to address it. “Are you having second thoughts about the one-room part? If you have, I’ll understand; I’m a little nervous too.” I gave a slight laugh. “Ah, maybe a little more than nervous. I’ve never gone on a trip with a girl like this.”

Zenith sat there on the beach silently, just looking at the ocean, until she finally answered. “You’re right, I am nervous, but no, I haven’t changed my mind. It’s just … “ She stopped there. She looked at me and gave me a soft kiss, saying, “Thanks for seeing I’m nervous, but I haven’t had second thoughts. “ Then she laughed, “It’s more like third and fourth thoughts. My final thought is, let’s go ahead and have a good time. I want to go ahead, Tim."

Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

When she finished talking, I moved closer, kissed her, and put my arm around her; listening to the ocean noises. 

When I saw Zenith was getting cold, we headed to the Miata, and I headed north. 

When we got to the motel, we checked in and headed to Mendocino to look around and get something to eat. Just to be clear, it wasn’t my idea. 

We finally got back to our motel room, where I hugged her. “You look like the most delicious candy I’ve ever seen. Ah, Zenith,” 

I’m not sure how to start this. Before, I was just reacting to what was happening. This time, I need to start from the beginning. I know what I want, and Zenith knows why we’re here, but how to start. 

I took her head and kissed her, slowly, increasing the passion; my tongue tasted her and one hand caressed her neck and it drifted down to her breast. Perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but a good start at least.

Her neck attracted me, so my kisses wandered to her ear and then to her neck. My hand on her breast started unbuttoning her blouse until I couldn’t get one unbuttoned. I murmured, “Can you get that button?” To my delight, she reached up and unbuttoned it and all the other buttons. 

I’m starting, and I think I'm just letting everything happen naturally.

The obvious next move was to take her blouse off. Well, I can do the obvious next thing, so that’s what I did. I folded it up, placed it on the chair, and went back to her. Before I could get started, she reached behind herself, unfastened her bra, and shrugged it off. 

I gasped when I saw them exposed for the first time. Not too big and not too small—just right! I saw her nipples highlight her areola. They were stiff and aroused. Beautiful. 

I held her again, but this time my hands were on her tits., just lightly touching her nipples. “Zenith, you’re so beautiful.“ I whispered,

I moved her to the bed and made her lie back I started by kissing her lips, but soon I was kissing her everywhere, and my hands, likewise. 

She reached and pulled my shirt over my head, which I resisted for a moment because it interfered with what I was doing. When she insisted, I realized she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I started on her again by unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. Then, when she lifted her ass off the bed; I slipped them off. Again, perfect. She trimmed her bush short, but she didn’t look like a little girl but like a woman. 

This is more exciting than I dreamed possible. I hope I can keep it together long enough to make it good for her. 

Good for her. Good for her. I need. To make this good for her. I got her naked on the bed and I’d brought some lotion just for this and I started at her toes. Massage, then some lotion; massage,m then some lotion, going from toe to toe very deliberately. I moved to her feet and did them one by one. She was purring in enjoyment. Hearing a cat purr is nothing like having a naked woman purr while you're massaging her.

I moved up her legs and she opened them apart, but instead of accepting her offer, I went to her stomach and then to her tits, where I spent extra time on her nipples, rubbing the lotion in, pulling on them, and twisting them. 

That’s when I realized that I’d neglected to get naked myself, and I had to stop and strip. I lay across her, kissing her tits when she yelled, "That’s enough.” She pushed me back on the bed and

I've dreamed about having a woman take charge. She’s fucking me. 

I reached up to her tits and caressed them, focused on them. Hell, I tried. I’m a guy; my focus was on my cock and the sensations it was feeling. Still, I could pay attention to what I was doing for her. I moved one hand down to her clitoris and let her move against my finger. 

As soon as I did it, I could see a change; she was moving faster and her expression was more introspective, focusing on her sensations.

I saw her climax roll over her, and she tensed and collapsed on me, saying, “Oh Tim. Tim. Yes. This is why I came here; I wanted you.”

I laid her on her back, put my cock in her, and started fucking her again. This time, I refused to let her get on top; I insisted on being on top. This time, she didn’t object. 

My cock was pounding her as hard as I could; my mouth was taking hers with my tongue controlling her; my hands were fixed on her tits, so she had to take what I was doing to her. I was going berserk. She couldn’t move and couldn’t make a noise until I finally came. I could feel the final release of my cum in her pussy. Then I heard her saying, “God, god, god.” Chanting “God," she convulsed under me. “God, Tim, if you never repeat that, I’ll still remember this fuck for the rest of my life.”

I’d lost all control, and I was afraid I’d hurt her. If I had, there was no way I’d know it and stop. 

Everything past my first climax is mostly just a blur.  I think we had sex about five or six times that night until morning, and I think I remember her riding me on top. 

I know we had a stupendous time because we kept telling each other that it was.

My main thought was: shopping at a candy store when you can afford to buy is … um, I can’t think of a word better than stupendous.