Café Midnight Americano Misto Read online

  Café Midnight: Americano Misto

  Cynthia Sax

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2011 Cynthia Sax

  ISBN: 978-1-60521-604-1

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  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Maryam Salim

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  Adult Sexual Content

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  Café Midnight: Americano Misto

  Cynthia Sax

  Pierce has a softer, more carnal side. The challenge is… it resides in another dimension.

  Pierce can travel back and forth between dimensions. In the human world, he resembles a normal man. In the other dimension, he is mist. He has lived his life believing he is the only one of his kind.

  Primitive sex is the only thing binding Keisha to reality. When the brightly colored madness comes for her, she rushes into a coffee shop and orders much more than an Americano Misto. What she gets is a mysterious man, and a sexual encounter so steamy, it bridges both dimensions.

  Chapter One

  “I’m so sorry.” Keisha rolled off the sprawled, shrieking woman, and scrambled to her feet. Groceries were scattered everywhere. Spilt milk from a flattened carton dripped down her bare legs, an apple rolled on the sidewalk, and eggs lay broken, scrambled on the hot concrete, but Keisha didn’t stop to help gather them up. She couldn’t.

  She glanced behind her. The unnatural mist rolled nearer, calling to her, the grays and blacks of the cityscape swirling into a hazy mass. On the other side of that moving wall lay the bright oranges and pinks and blues of madness. She wouldn’t allow it to draw her in.

  Keisha ran from the mist, scanning the building-filled horizon for her unsuspecting savior. The edges of her world, the realm of reality, were blurring, and she had to ground herself to something, someone. There was only one way to do that. She needed the deep physical connection that came with sex.

  A dark haired man stood by a building, a handheld in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. He was young and fit and large enough to cover her completely. He would do. Keisha approached him, slowing her pace so she didn’t spook him. Her past hunting had taught her she couldn’t appear too desperate, or he’d dart away. He lifted the cup to his lips.

  She stopped. She recognized the logo on the cup. Keisha turned her head, surveying her surroundings, and spotted the earthy tones of the Café Midnight sign across the street. Hope loosened the coils of fear inside her. She was safe.

  Café Midnight might resemble any other up scale coffee house, with its tropical decor and pretty boy baristas, but she’d heard they also had a reputation for serving up multiple orgasms with their java. She wouldn’t have to proposition a stranger, risking time-wasting rejection. She could order a guaranteed “yes” instead.

  The mist rolled closer, the pull of madness tugging at her. It spurred her into action. She darted across the street, dodging honking cars, and burst through the glass doors, making a beeline for the counter. “Mist,” she panted the first word that came to her mind.

  “One Americano Misto coming right up.” The aggravatingly perky barista tapped her order into the register.

  “No.” She grabbed his thin, tanned forearms. “I want --” Sex, dirty, raw, primitive sex.

  “I know what you want, miss.” The employee gently removed her hands. He was stronger than he looked. “And I’m not the being to give it to you, but if you take a seat, we’ll have someone bring it to you.” His smile conveyed understanding.

  He couldn’t understand. He was sane. She was not. “Quickly.” She hadn’t much time. The mist seeped between the door and the frame, and it would reach her within minutes. Keisha positioned herself at a table for two, farthest from the door, closest to the counter. She needed someone, anyone.

  A burly man sat at the table beside her. He had a yellow plaid jacket on, and his black leather pants were stretched tight over a huge bulge. He casually rubbed that bulge with one big hand. He looked solid, and human, and his cock would more than do. “Sir.” The psychedelic lumberjack turned his head. His beard was green, and his red eyes looked right through her, a tiny spark of light dancing around his head. She recoiled from him. He wasn’t real. He wasn’t part of their world. The madness had found her.

  Keisha’s legs were yanked apart, her bare ankles pressed against the cold steel of the chair legs. She struggled, but she was too late. The mist had her, its ghostly fingers stroking up her legs, over her calves, caressing her inner thighs. The cool air feathered the hot folds of her pussy, and she moaned with arousal.

  She knew the mist only existed in her mind, as Keisha had often, even as a child, seen what wasn’t there. She’d turn her head quickly and catch a glimpse of a fleeing creature. She’d look into the night and see forms detach from the shadows. The beings never touched her, however, not before today.

  The mist fanned her pussy lips while pulsing compressed air into her tight hole. Her clit was attended to also, the light tapping on that pleasure button making her entire body hum, and she wiggled, her ass sliding over the wooden seat, searching for blessed friction. “I need…”

  “What do you need?” a deep voice asked.

  Keisha looked up into a pair of sparkling gray eyes, and her breath caught. The man’s face was pale, with lines etched around a curved mouth. His short hair was a striking silver, and he dressed in a matching monochrome, wearing a classic gray suit, a plain gray tie, and a stark white shirt. He was classy and distinguished, and a tiny part of her squirmed with embarrassment over what she needed from him. “Your cock. In my pussy. Now.”

  He blinked those gray eyes slowly. “Not here.” He placed the disposable brown coffee cup on the table, wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, and pulled her to her feet. “Come.” The stranger dragged her through a back room, along a narrow hallway to a closed door. He rapped on the wood before swinging the door open.

  “Here.” The space was empty and small. There was a desk piled high with papers, and two chairs stacked with full file folders. “Bend over.” He unzipped his pants.

  “No.” She tugged up her skirt, exposing her neatly groomed mound. “I need you to fuck me face-to-face, your tongue in my mouth, your cock in my pussy.” The mist had accompanied them, undeterred by her new companion, and she required the full human connection to banish it. “Hard and fast and wild.”

&nb
sp; “I can do hard and fast and wild.” The stranger pulled down his gray pants and briefs. Even the coarse hair at the base of his large, pale cock was silver.

  “You have a condom?” Keisha was desperate, but she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t know him, or his sexual history.

  “There’s no need.” Mist flowed around him as the man took a packet from his jacket. His face was soft, the edges fuzzy.

  He sounded certain, and she wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t. “There is.” She took the packet from him, opened it, and rolled the condom over his hard cock. Once he was properly wrapped, she stroked him, and he groaned, pushing into her touch.

  The mist pushed into her, and the man’s long, thin fingers clasped Keisha’s arms, securing her, exciting her. “You feel so good, so hot and wet.”

  She was hot and wet, but he couldn’t know that. He hadn’t yet touched her pussy. And the stranger’s skin and scent and voice shouldn’t feel familiar to her, like she’d been waiting for him, for this, her entire life. It was the madness speaking.

  “No foreplay, only fucking.” She wrapped one leg around his thigh, bouncing on her toes, trying to fit her pussy to his cock. She couldn’t, as he was too tall, and she was too short.

  The mist reached out to her, pulling her upward, and a rumble moved up the man’s stomach to his chest. “Only fucking,” he repeated. The stranger lifted her against the wall, his fingers cupping the soft flesh of her ass, and with one long, smooth movement, entered her, his cock spearing between her wet pussy lips.

  “Yes.” She arched back, her fingernails digging into his cotton shirt, angling her hips to take him completely, savoring the slide of flesh against flesh. This was what she needed. This was real. “Fuck me hard.” She wanted to feel it, their connection, temporary though it was.

  He grunted his acquiescence, drawing back his hips before thrusting them forward, smacking her ass against the drywall, rattling the certificates and photos hanging on the wall. They fucked, two strangers in the small, borrowed office. She didn’t know his name. She didn’t know why he fucked for money. All she knew was his large cock pounding into her pussy, his chest flattening her breasts, his breathing heavy in her ears.

  “Faster, harder,” she coaxed, clinging to the nape of his neck as he rode her. There was no softness in his face now. His jaw was clenched, his gray eyes were black with desire, and a vein plumped on his neck. Sweat ran in a rivulet down his cheek, and she reached out with her tongue and licked it. It was salty and wet and tasted of sex and him. “Kiss me.” She wanted to taste all of him, to suck up his flavor.

  He complied, his kiss rough and demanding, his lips grinding against her mouth until she tasted the metallic tang of blood. His tongue surged into her as his cock rammed into her pussy.

  “Fuck,” he cursed, his deep voice drawing tremors from her already primed body. “Fuck,” he repeated, as her pussy hummed around his cock.

  “Ahhh…” She dug into his shoulders with her fingernails and his ass with her heels, urging him forward. She needed more. She needed him imprinted on her body. She needed to feel. The mist swirled around them, binding them tighter and tighter together until she could barely breathe. Her chest felt restricted, and she panted, her lower body raw and stinging and so joyfully alive.

  “Now!” he shouted, crashing into her.

  “Yes!” She tilted her head back against the wall and screamed her surrender.

  “Fuck!” He roared his release, driving his hips fully forward, his cock pumping inside her. The mist was sucked into his form, his muscles growing even harder, his cheekbones sharp and defined. “Fuck.” He thrust three times more before leaning his forehead against hers, his eyes squeezed closed.

  “Thank you.” Keisha slid her feet to the ground and smoothed down her skirt. That had been the best fuck of her life, resulting in a connection closer than she’d ever achieved, and she was tempted to stay and ask for a round two, but she didn’t want to face his questions, or his judgments. It was simpler to leave and never look back. “How much do I owe you?”

  He opened one eye. “Owe me?” He plucked the rubber off his limp cock. The condom was empty, yet no liquid dripped down her legs. Had he not come?

  “You know, for the…” She waved her hand. For the fuck, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t, knowing that it was more than that. “For the coffee.”

  It couldn’t be more than that, as he was a male whore, and she battled madness. Keisha edged along the wall, away from him, putting the physical distance she needed between them.

  His hand shot out, his fingers sealing like steel bands around her wrist. “All I want is your name, and an explanation.” She tugged on her hand, but he wouldn’t let go. “How long?”

  “Keisha.” She didn’t offer her last name. He didn’t need to know it. “And how long since when?” Since she last fucked someone? It had been almost a year, as the visions, the pull of her illness, had been manageable. She’d spotted a fairy dry humping a tree in the faculty building, or an ogre sticking his cock into a ripe cantaloupe at the supermarket, but it was nothing she couldn’t ignore.

  “How long have you been aware of the other dimension?” Her confusion must have been reflected on her face because he continued, “You see my mist. You saw the wood guardian at the table next to you. You clearly see the other dimension. How long has it been, and are there others like you?”

  “You saw the man in yellow?” Her mouth dropped open. How could they share the same vision… unless it wasn’t a vision? “I’m not crazy.” She slumped against the wall. “What do you mean by your mist?”

  “My mist.” He freed her, holding out his hand, his palm down, his fingers flat. They stretched and stretched and stretched, the molecules moving farther and farther apart until they became a hazy mist. “This is my form in the other dimension.” He clenched his fist, and his hand solidified once more. “I exist there and here. I thought I was the sole aberration, but you can see me; you see all of me, and you’re the only one who can.” A heavy weight settled on Keisha’s shoulders. “And I can touch you with my mist.” It pressed down until her legs collapsed under her. “I can’t stop touching you.”

  She cried out as her legs were pulled forward, her skirt rolled back up to her waist, her knees bent and held apart. She writhed while the mist, that damn sexy mist, stroked her exposed pussy, the stranger watching her dispassionately. “Please,” she pleaded. For what, she didn’t know. Air pumped into her, as rigid as the hardest cock, and she didn’t want it to stop. She arched into the movement. “Please.”

  “Pierce,” he supplied his name. The buttons on her red silk blouse popped, the fabric ripping to reveal her black lace bra. “I can’t control it. I’ve never had to, and I don’t know how.” The bra was pushed down, her breasts cupped, her nipples tweaked between ghostly fingers. The air cock ravaged her pussy, filling every inch of her channel, growing stiffer and larger, as it scooped up her juices. Hands slid along her back, supporting her. She couldn’t move her limbs; her arms were stretched to the sides, and her feet were planted to the industrial brown carpet. She was helpless to prevent her seduction.

  “I gave you what you needed, hard and fast and wild. Now I’m going to fuck you, Keisha, my way.” Pierce shrugged out of his jacket and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. His chest was pale and defined, ridges of muscles cascading down his stomach. “As this is what I need.”

  “Yes, I understand.” They needed the same thing, a physical connection to keep them in the human dimension, as Pierce called it, and they could find it in each other. He was the moon to her darkness, guiding her, securing her, knowing her.

  “No condoms.” Pierce grinned, his gray eyes sparkling. “They are useless. My mist can’t be contained.” His mouth covered hers as he settled between her thighs, his cock easing between her quivering pussy lips. He didn’t thrust; he remained motionless inside her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue twirling around hers, dancing, dancing, tantalizing her with taste and touch.
She clenched at him with her inner muscles, sucking on his tongue, needing the smack of flesh on flesh, but still he didn’t move, his weight dead on top of her, his cock sinking deeper and deeper until his balls flattened against her softness.

  “I can’t stop touching you.” He kissed down her neck, over her collarbone, skimming the roundness of her breast, before capturing her nipple in his hot mouth. She pushed against him, her body remaining secured by his mist, and his cock bobbed a response inside her tight pussy, caressing her walls with his shaft. He suckled on her nipple with loud, vigorous slurps, the pull on her skin felt down to her womb, his hips grinding against hers, around and around until she thought she would go mad with the pressure.

  “Pierce, please,” she begged, digging her fingertips into the carpet. The warmth of soft flesh pressed against her lips. She stared toward it, and all she saw was mist.

  “Suck me, Keisha.”

  Suck him? But his cock was lodged deep inside her pussy. The pressure on her mouth increased until she parted her lips, and a mist-formed cock pushed its way inside, filling her mouth. She slid her tongue along his shaft, feeling the blood pump through his veins. It felt like a real cock, and she imagined she could feel the coarseness of the hair around his balls brushing against her chin.

  “That’s it,” he murmured against her breast. She couldn’t slow his invasion, her hands restricted, her hips pinned by his. He forced her to take all of him, his cockhead tapping against the back of her throat. Her throat convulsed around the thickness of his cock, and she tasted moisture -- the saltiness of a million tears.

  He withdrew and surged forward. She wanted to grab his ass, but she couldn’t. All she could do was close her eyes and take it as he humped her face fervently, his mouth where it couldn’t humanly be, nipping, sucking her breasts, his real cock pillaging her pussy, grinding her ass against the carpet, making her ass cheeks burn with friction.