Rainy Day Strangers

The rain hammered against the cafe windows like it was trying to get in. I'd been watching it for twenty minutes, nursing a cold coffee, when she walked through the door shaking water from her hair.

"Fucking weather," she muttered, loud enough for half the cafe to hear.

I laughed before I could stop myself. She turned, and her eyes locked onto mine. Dark, sharp, amused. She was soaked through, her thin white shirt clinging to every curve.

"Got a spare towel in that backpack?" she asked, nodding at my bag.

"Napkins," I said, pulling a stack from the dispenser. "Best I can do."

She took them with a grin that did something to my chest. "I'm Mia."

"Liam."

She slid into the booth across from me without asking, spreading the napkins over her arms. "Stranded too?"

"Car broke down about a mile back. Waiting for the tow truck."

"Same. Well, not the car. My bus just... left. Driver didn't see me step off to smoke."

I watched her blot the water from her collarbone, the fabric of her shirt sticking and releasing with each movement. Her nipples were hard against the wet cotton.

"See something you like?" she asked, but her voice wasn't accusing. It was teasing. Warm.

"Sorry," I said, feeling my face heat.

"Don't be." She leaned forward, elbows on the table. "I've been watching you too. You've got good hands."

I looked down at them, confused. They were just hands.

"Big," she added. "Long fingers."

The air between us thickened. The rain drummed harder.

"I'm not usually like this," she said, quieter now. "But there's something about being stuck in a storm with a stranger."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She reached across the table and traced a line down my wrist. "I want to know what those hands feel like."

My cock hardened instantly, pressing against my jeans. "Here?"

"Bathroom," she said, already standing.

The bathroom was small, one flickering light, the sound of rain on the roof louder than anything. She locked the door behind us and pushed me against the wall.

"Don't talk," she whispered. "Just... do."

She dropped to her knees, and I watched her unzip my jeans with steady hands. My cock sprang free, and she wrapped her fingers around the base, studying it like she was memorizing it.

"Fuck," she breathed. "You're beautiful."

She took me in her mouth, and I bit my lip to stay quiet. Her tongue was hot, wet, circling the head before she sank lower. Her hand worked the shaft while her lips moved, and I felt the vibrations of a low moan against my skin.

I tangled my fingers in her wet hair, not guiding, just holding. She looked up at me, eyes dark, and took me deeper. Her throat relaxed, and I felt myself push past the back of her tongue.

"God, Mia..."

She pulled back, gasping, a string of saliva connecting her lips to my cock. "You close?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I want it."

She went back down, faster now, her hand twisting at the base while her mouth worked the head. The heat built in my gut, my thighs tensing.

"I'm gonna—"

She didn't stop. She took me all the way, her nose pressed against my pubic bone, and I came hard, pulse after pulse, directly into her throat. She swallowed, her throat working around me, and kept her mouth there until I was empty.

When she pulled back, there was a drop of cum on her lower lip. She licked it off slowly.

"Perfect," she said.

I pulled her up and kissed her, tasting myself on her tongue. She laughed against my mouth.

"Rain stopped," she said, nodding at the small window.

"Looks like it."

She smiled, that same sharp grin. "Guess we should go back to our lives."

"Or..."

"Or?"

"Or we could get coffee. Properly. When we're not hiding in a bathroom."

She tilted her head, considering. "You buying?"

"Absolutely."

She zipped my jeans slowly, deliberately, her fingers brushing my softening cock. "Deal."

We walked out into the clearing sky, and she slipped her hand into mine. I didn't even ask where we were going.