Up until a week ago, my morning routine was always the same. I’d brush my teeth waiting for the kettle to boil and make myself a cup of instant coffee. The view from my window-seat always made me relaxed and thoughtful, so I’d sip my coffee there. While looking down onto the street I would have that feeling of waking up together with the city, being a part of it. I’d watch parked cars drive off, smartly dressed people pace their way to work, shops and cafes opening their eyelids. I’d especially love that wee cafe across the street waking up from its overnight rest.

The owner, a tiny ginger girl, always arrives just before 6:30am and wrestles with heavy security blinds. The rattle is unbelievable and probably wakes up the whole street. I feel as if watching this is just as important part of my morning, as my coffee. So anyway, the owner wrestles with the lock, but then usually flips up the metal barrier in one swift move. After she drags inside the deliveries of milk and newspapers, she disappears inside to continue her pre-opening routine. I usually watch this whole spectacle, and by this point my coffee is most of the time luke warm, often untouched. To be honest, I don’t even like instant coffee anyway, since it doesn’t have a smell.

One early morning, few days ago, the noise of cafe’s shutters woke me up. I was convinced that I overslept, since the noise always marked the 6:30am, so I jumped out of bed immediately. It was only after I brushed my teeth, that I looked at the clock – I was not only not late, but in fact I woke up about an hour early. Oh well, I thought, the cafe must have opened earlier today. I thought I might just as well take my time since it’s unlikely I would fall asleep again. So I made my way to the window seat with my vile coffee, and looked down onto the cafe, just to see something that made me freeze, and then smile.

At first, through the window I could see ginger hair held tight by someone’s hand. Then I recognised the face of the cafe's owner as she was suddenly turned over and that same hand grabbed her uncovered boob, pinching on its tip. The expression on her face was euphoric and painful in a happy sort of way. I watched shamelessly this mesmerising spectacle; not only did they fuck so passionately, but also any casual pedestrian could witness it. Or maybe passion and voyeurism were connected, if being seen was their kink.

Assuming that, I felt no need to stop watching them. I was certainly happy I was there, as I realised that I was getting quite aroused indeed. My hand moved towards the buttons of my jeans. I started touching myself, looking at them, trying to deduce what exactly was happening a few floors down.

I masturbated slowly, waves of warmth making their way up and down my body, when I realised that she was looking at me.

At first I thought I just imagined it, but then our eyes met, and she seemed to smile in my direction. In that exchange of glances neither of us stopped what we were doing, her being fucked and me touching myself. For a second it made this experience of a long-distance threesome feel very real and even more exciting. As I was very close to final shudders, her head vanished, probably since they wondered off from the view, away from the cafe's window.

This threw me off my rhythm completely. I fumbled with myself a little more in confusion, but soon I realised that there was no way I’d end up coming. Which was fine, by the way. I'd found the whole scene very satisfying anyway.

My mug of untouched cold instant coffee still stood on the window-seat next to me. I looked at it in amazement, wondering why I even bothered making those coffees in the morning. I rarely enjoyed them and never drank the whole thing anyway. It was just a habit, I guess.

After a few short minutes, the cafe's owner appeared again from the cafe’s door, just to let her lover out. I leaned to get a better look at who it was and I almost knocked out my cold coffee, spilling a little. By the time I cleaned up, the ginger stood there alone, looking straight at me. I didn’t quite expect that, but I held her gaze as she smiled a charming wide smile. She was actually quite pretty, with her braided ginger hair reflecting the morning sun. As she walked back in to complete her morning duties, she turned the ‘Opened’ sign and waved towards me. I guess I must have looked very confused as I waved back, but it did get the message.

A few short minutes later I walked down to be her first customer and she made me a cup of delicious black coffee. As we chatted about this new type of ethical Mexican beans, neither of us mentioned what happened earlier on. I had a distinct feeling that I could smell the sex in the air, but then again that could have been my own hands. That morning I spent a few hours there and I did end up being late to work after all. Not that it was not worth it.

***

On that morning two things changed. In my morning routine I swapped my barely drinkable instant coffee for a mug of freshly brewed long black made by Viki, my new ginger friend. Another thing that changed were the contents of my wank-bank, and as I found out later, her wank-bank changed too. But that is an another story altogether.

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