Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: The Coffee Shop, Chapter 0
Codes: Mgg, Fgg, cons, rom, ped, oral

   Chapter Zero

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   ***

   I was already seated at the table with my coffee when she entered the
shop.  Of course, and as it would be in real life, regardless of who she
was, I saw the two little ones well before I saw her.  I watched them
disembark the car just outside the large glass window to my left, and
really, truth be told, hadn't stopped watching since, for I'd already
become lost in the space it took the three of them to walk from the car to
the door; and now, as they made their way down the aisle toward my table, I
was well into a dream, my eyes glazing gently over.

   She'd parked the car in the slanted space about 3 or 4 spaces down and
in front of the window.

   I'd seen the older one first, sitting in the front passenger seat, as
soon as this woman had pulled into the slot.  Her window was down, and she
was resting her chin on the door, her long soft brown hair blowing in the
breeze.

   "Aww," I thought, "this'll be nice, then...I hope she sits somewhere I
can watch her for a bit before I have to go."

   Of course, I was already watching her, though, as she pushed open the
door and I saw her sandaled feet and bare ankles hit the ground beneath the
bottom margin of the car door.  She'd stepped out from behind the door,
then, and I began my slow melt-down.  She was wearing some sort of light
yellow tee and white shorts of the kind like overalls, with little straps
the went up and over her shoulders.

   "Oh my, that's so nice."

   She was apparently beginning to outgrow the outfit since the straps
seemed to pull the shorts up so snuggly against her little round seat; snug
enough one could see, even from way in behind the glass, the edges of her
panties, also a bit too tight, and the corners of her cheeks, forced out at
the edges by those too-tight panties.  I was melting already, and had a
feeling I'd be staying longer than I first thought I might.

   She rotated her hips as she threw her small weight into closing the door
on the older sedan.  I smiled as I watched this movement, "nice, way nice,
baby, way nice."

   Now she stopped though and pulled open the back door as I noticed in the
corner of my eye, the woman standing at the front fender, opposite,
waiting.

   "Awww, she has a little sister," whom she was now undoing the car seat
straps for, and helping from the car.  "Ohhhhh, ohhhh," I whined inside my
head, "so sweet little babies, one cuter than the next..this is going to be
rough, but oh so nice..a dream come true and nightmare, too," I thought, my
mind passing over the Oingo Boingo song, Little Girls.  I felt myself
settle in visibly for the long run.  I wanted to hear them.  I wanted to
watch them smile and giggle and play with one another at the table.  I
wanted to imprint their forms on my mind for some later resurrection in a
more private place.

   Little sister, I assume, anyway, since they looked similar, now
disembarked the car as well, pulling the fabric of the little pink dress
from the space between her cheeks, where it clung so lovingly to the curve
of her tiny bottom.  Five, I thought, certainly no more than five.  "God,
that is some short little dress," I mused, as she ran frontward around the
front of the car to the waiting woman.  "I wonder if it is skorts, it
almost has to be...goodness, though, that is so pretty."

   I swallowed.  I'd already imprinted far more than enough to drink them
all up later.  But I was staying.  I was frozen to my seat now.  I had that
familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach, and felt my chest rise and
myself take a deep breath, and let it slowly back out again as I watched
the doors or the alcove thing go through their opening and closing motions
in the background of the haze through which I was now viewing my world.

   I took an even deeper breath, closed my eyes, nearly gasping for air
already.  I'd let it in, and it was flooding all through me now,
intoxicating me, and assailing me on all side.  "Oh baby," I thought, and
wondered whether I'd said it out loud, "oh baby," I breathed again, and
touched, just so very briefly, the growing erection in my shorts.

   Gasp, "fuck." "Okay, get a grip," I corrected myself, "just get a grip,
it will be okay." I opened my eyes and my erection died back down as I
picked up the coffee and took a sip, looking over the top of the rim at the
woman and her charges, now moving in the space between the door and my
booth.

   I'd arrived just before the morning rush; my little angelic visitors and
their caretaker, just after.  I felt a bit greedy, having an entire booth
for myself, when others were going standing, or impatiently waiting on a
table or booth.  But, ya know, I'd come early enough to get a seat and that
was just the way life was for these late comers.  The place was packed and
teeming with people and noise and activity, but all I could see were the
two little forms, and the one I knew I'd have to keep an eye on first,
before and as I drank in any of the smaller creatures she was ushering
ahead of herself, peering about, looking for a place, any place to sit.

   With that innate and learned sense that ones like me possess, I could
tell it was safe enough to have a momentary closer look at her girls, now,
as she searched for a non-existent place for them to be seated.  Obviously,
she'd reached the end of the line: mine was the farthest booth from the
door on the right side of the little place, and the left side was always
filled first with those that avoided the smoking section where I was
seated. It was single file booths back here, and I was in the seat facing
the line of tables and booths ahead of me and between myself and the door,
and the other section of the restaurant.  Whenever possible, I'd always
seat myself in the corner of such establishments, or anywhere, really.  It
was both a noble and mammalian instinct that allowed me to watch for enemy
creatures, and have only the metaphorical wall of the cave back.

   The big window through which I'd watched these lovelies park their car
was on my left.  To my right, across the aisle, was the backside of some
sort of not too busy waitress station.  It wasn't the main waitress
station, and just seemed to be placed there for no reason than that there
wasn't anything better to use that isolated lace for: it was too small for
another seating place, and too large to just leave sit unused.  The theme,
as one finds in so many restaurants of this kind was medium wood grain and
greens.  At the end of the aisle that led to my table, was only the steel
emergency exit door, no glass.

   And so here there were, at the end of the line, perhaps six feet from my
booth.  Goodness, these little babies were beautiful I thought, and let my
mind wander for only just a split second or two, long enough to imagine the
flat softness of their chests, the gentle roundness of the rest of their
forms.  I smiled at the older one, the third grader, I was figuring,
perhaps entering fourth grade in the fall.  She smiled back, seemingly
pleased I would give her the time of day before her adult chaperone, or
parent, or whomever.  Wow, I was sold.  I also took an even quicker glance
at the younger, pink-skirted one.  "Oh god, those little soft thighs, I
thought," drinking in, in that short fraction of a second, the entirety of
her thigh and calf, all the way down to the top of the little white frilly
sock and pink tennis shoes.

   As I looked up, and as expected, I met the eyes of the woman, now.  I
was prepared for any defensiveness, or offensive, in case she had somehow
caught the short exchange between myself and her little girls, and so, met
her eyes with innocent complacence, and smiled.

   "It's crowded!," I said, "you needed to get here just maybe twenty
minutes earlier, then you'da been set."

   "Yeah, I guess," she said, exasperated, and turning about to double
check the other tables and booths for vacancies.  Her hair was long and
dark, like the older girl's, her eyes very soft and pretty, gentle and
unassuming, and certainly not scary in any way.  Her lips full, and dark,
her skin tanned and clear.  "Wow," I thought, now that I'd finally had a
minute to see the adult one with these little girls, "she's pretty damn hot
in her own right, no wonder her little girls are so sexy to me," if they
are her girls, and not someone else's.  If they are hers though, damn, she
hadda have that older one at some pretty young age, for she looked no older
than her mid-twenties.

   "Where are we gonna sit, Missy?," the younger one now piped up.  "Yeah,
where Aunt Missy, the older one chimed in."

   "Ahh, 'Missy,' eh?  nice," I thought, remembering my little sister's
best friend, Missy, who I would find out some years later woulda been
willing to do who knows what with me, when I was 19 and she was 8 or so. 
"Mkay, so at least one of them is her niece, then." The mystery of the
other one's relationship would have to remain that way for now.

   The waitress, I could see, was now making her way back toward my table,
presumably to refill my cup, which was beginning to dwindle.  She also was
pretty cute.  I have a tendency to find something to delight the eye or
spirit in so many females, and this one was no exception.  Not heavy, but
definitely not skinny, either, I'd already imagined what her lovely rump
would look like, naked, under her white and black waitress uniform.  This
was just one more good reason to seat myself as I always did: one could
watch as their waitress moved away down the aisle, could watch the lovely
movement of their form, the up and down of her back side.  She was pretty
young, still a schoolgirl, obviously, perhaps 15 or 16, still bright in her
eyes, and pert in her chest, and it appeared, flirty enough, too, which, I
think is also an important trait in a waitress.

   "Well girls," Missy began to answer, as the waitress with the coffeepot
sidestepped between her and her daughters, "lets go back up to the front
and wait, there's nothing back here for us, now."

   "Awww, I'm hungry, aunt Missy," the older whined, "yeah, and thirsty,
too," complained the younger.  The scent of these two was beginning to
assail me, and I blinked at my eyes at the "hungry" comment, because I was
hungry, too, but not like she was.  I'd skipped jacking off the night
before, as I was just too tired, and now that hunger was beginning to rise
pretty sharply.  In the moment of the blink, an image of the younger one's
bare little cunt had flitted through my mind, making me swallow, and force
my eyes to snap back open.

   "I'm sorry," apologized the waitress, "I have no idea why we are so busy
right now, it's not usually like this."

   I began to feel guiltier for my hogging of the whole booth, looking down
and watching as my coffee cup filled up with fresh black coffee.  I was
also beginning to panic just slightly, as my chances for having these soft
little ones sit close enough for me to enjoy was beginning to dwindle.  "Oh
well," I thought, admitting the defeat one in my position grows accustomed
and immune to, "it's not going to happen today, so I may as well just be
nice and give them my seats." After all, nothing much moves one like me
more than being able to give a little girl something she needed and wanted,
and these two both wanted and needed something I could give, so I was not
going to turn the opportunity away just because I wasn't going to be able
to eat them up with my eyes, or maybe because I wasn't anyway.

   Not only that more altruistic motive, but the fact of the matter is I
did not want them to leave.  I wanted to breathe in that heavenly scent
some more.  Even though I knew it'd be a form of torture, it was one of
those I masochistically embraced, or at least could not turn away from.

   I noticed the waitress smelled rather delicious, too.  I was hungry,
too, but not for doughnuts.  Another fleeting thought of her bent over one
of the tables and me fucking her hard, cupping her breasts and pinching her
hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers passed through my mind, and
my stomach churned briefly, my groin stirred, yet again, and I flexed my
cock to make it press against the fabric of my cut-offs.  My heart began to
race, and I felt my breathing change, too.  I had no underwear, so the
friction from that flex was rather intense, and I flexed once or twice
more, and began to ache, now.

   "Uh," I stammered myself out of the too brief and unexpected daydream,
"if you want, you can sit here, I am almost finished anyway, and can even
just take this cup with me, it's no big deal at all, and I don't mind a
single bit," I said, glancing at the two little faces, now peering at me,
the kind stranger.

   "Awww," the woman's eyes softened even further, a slight little glint
showing in the corner that betrayed hardly anything, but something,
something, something, "that's so sweet of you, are you sure, because we can
wait, we really can," she asked, with complete neutrality.  I smiled back,
pondering the glint.  "What was that?", I asked myself, "there was
something so familiar about that rather impish glint, something so fucking
familiar, what is it, what was it, my mind reeled, trying to place that
glint.  I couldn't though, it was past, and all I knew for certain is that
there was something so familiar about it, so I dismissed it for the moment.

   "Oh," I grinned widely now, and allowed myself what seemed to be a
permitted longer look of her lovely little charges, waiting expectantly for
my reply, "believe me, it's totally okay," I said, gesturing now with a
wave of my right hand, "I couldn't turn these two down in any case, even if
I tried, I just love, love, love little girls, and you are pretty, too," I
said honestly, locking my eyes on hers, with open older guy flirtation,
"and I'm also a sucker for that kind of beauty, too."

   "So, I don't stand a chance," I smiled, shaking my head, "so ya may as
well just please have a seat," I said, almost laughing now.

   "Well thank you," she grinned, "I don't blame you, I love them, too,"
she intoned, having a seat opposite me in the booth.  "yeah, what's not to
love, huh?" I brazenly risked now, shrugging my shoulders.  She smiled
again, and the glint appeared again.

   "Oh my god, I thought silently and swallowed, "now I know what that is."
I fixed my eyes on those of the woman with the children, now, and returned
only a small smile, breathing out, and on my breath back in, taking in the
whole scent of her two charges.

   I was in a dream now, all the way.

   "I'm Mark," I heard myself, say, and saw my hand reaching across the
table, felt the gentle softness of hers in mine next, and heard her voice
say, "hi, I'm Missy, and this is my niece, Kristy, and her step-sister,
Kimmy."

   My heart raced.  "God, she's really pretty," I thought, "and her hand is
so, so soft." She let her hand linger for that split second longer than one
should and let her fingers trail gently off.

   "Oh, well, that should be easy, then," I smiled, "M, K, and K, simple
enough...it is nice to meet you all," I said, extending my hand first to
Kristy, who took it readily enough, and with a more sure grip than one
would expect from such a young girl.  "Pleased to meet you," she giggled.

   Now the younger, lighter haired girl was reaching out, too, "and I'm
Kimmy," she said, "don't forget about me."

   "Oh, I would NEVER forget about you," I emphasized, "a pleasure to meet
you, Kimmy," I said, smiling and taking her tiny soft hand in my own.  I
can't remember, but I'm almost positive I closed my eyes in the short space
of time while the softness of her small hand was in mine.

   Kristy, the older girl, had already seated herself beside her mom, and
now the younger one crowded in alongside the two of them.  "My birthday is
Saturday," she exclaimed, "I'm going to have a party."

   "Well cool, then," I grinned at her, making a friend," and how old are
ya gonna be?"

   Her sister looked at her expectantly, then back at me, blurting out
ahead of her, "I'm gonna be nine, next month," she said, beaming proudly,
and sitting up in the seat, stretching the fabric of her tee across her
little flat chest, almost taut enough it seemed I could see the brown
circles of her preteen nipples through the thin, light fabric, one of the
white overall straps already having fallen off her shoulder onto her arm.

   I smiled, "wow, you're gettin' up there, then, eh?, I said, "soon you'll
be ten," and pondered in my head her sweet little almost nine-year old
cunny.  I knew some girls began to cum even earlier than that, and wondered
whether this little one had ever humped her little hips, and ground her
little mound into one of her stuffed animals, leaking baby girl juice onto
its fuzzy coat.

   "Six," the little one said, "I'm going to be this many," she continued
animatedly holding up one open hand and the other with her index finger
extended.

   Missy smiled.  "Yes, and ages aside, these little ones are pretty
precocious for their ages," she said, out of the blue, and no real apparent
reason.

   "Oh," I said with surprise, looking across the table at her, "they are,
huh?," I queried, wondering where I was going with all of that, and mostly,
why.

   "Mhm," she returned, raising the ante by passing the tip of her tongue
across her upper lil, "yep," she continued, then, "they sure are," she
smiled, looking sideways at the girls, who were grinning, their eyes
dancing at what appeared to be praise of some sort, "they
surrrrrrrrrrrrrree are," she grinned widely, now, too, and I'm positive I
could make out her nipples through her blouse and bra.

   I swallowed.  "Whoa," I thought, "what in the world is she saying, for
Pete's sakes."
   ...