Stacy placed the man's coffee down before taking the order at the adjacent table.

His index finger casually ran along the rim.

Stacy felt a slow flush ride up her legs.

He scooped some milky froth before resuming.

Stacy panted, biting her lip, trying to concentrate.

The man smiled and rubbed harder.

Stacy pressed her bare thighs together, gently holding the tabletop of the man who was ordering, steadying against the building pleasure, trying not to draw attention.

The man admired her grace before dipping his finger into his warm drink.

Stacy's head fell forward, knees trembling. "Yes," she moaned.