Over the years I've become addicted to coffee. I know most people these days can't go without their caffeine either, but what's always pissed me off about mine is that I have a taste for the iced coffee drinks that hit you for almost 5 bucks a pop at that Green Labeled coffee crack house. It's a real fucking love and hate thing I have going on with that place. Anyway I had moved to a suburb so my commute demanded an early start to the day. Which lead me to Marnie.
I found a new Green Label Coffee Crack House on my way to work. Marnie is the manager of this particular store and I was always waiting for the doors to open up in the morning so I could get my fix and get started for the day. Marnie was always the first one there to open up. She was probably in her mid 20's and had a knockout body. Dark hair, dyed I suspected, 5' 5" tall, 115 pounds with big B cup titties and a perfectly round tight ass. I figured her body and female charms had a lot to do with why she was in charge of her own store at her young age.
The first day I laid eyes on Marnie, I was thinking about how nice her pussy must be. The flirtatious way she would greet me in the mornings indicated to me that she was in the habit of using her sexual guile with men. She liked to do the thing pretty little white girls do when they know they're fine. The old, I'm not flirty-just friendly shit, but the bitch didn't fool me. She learned a long time ago that her ability to stir the juices in men nuts gave her a lot of control over them. I've seen this kind of bitch before and I liked to turn things around on them whenever they played that shit with me. On the occasion when I ended up in their pussy, I would punish that shit for all the prick teasing they loved to do.
So like I said Marnie and I fell into this routine where I'm at her store not so bright and very early for my coffee and she's there opening up. After a few weeks of this I'm standing out front as she pulls into the parking lot. She walks up to me to open the door to the store and says with a coy little flirty smile-
"My fiancee would be so worried if he knew that I was meeting a black man every morning."
I'm a 6' 3" black man and I knew she was playing off the cliche of a "white girl playing around with a black man on the side". Up until now I had played along with her little flirts and let her believe that she had me stroking my cock every night at the thought of her. I could've went in that direction or a I could steer this thing around on her. That morning was the time to twist this thing around some and see where it went.
I looked her straight in the eyes and said-
"He wouldn't be worried if I was white man then?"
She was caught off guard and just stood there for a few seconds looking straight back at me. I could tell she didn't know what to say and she was afraid she had just said something racist in her effort to be flirty. She was searching for something to say when I broke the silence by pointing to the door and asking if she was going to open it or not? She snapped out of it and dropped her stare and tried a different approach to the situation.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." she replied while unlocking the door.
I had her ass on the defensive and I wasn't about to let her escape before I put some heavy pressure on her. Using my southern slave voice as I stepped inside I said-
"Well thanks you mam, I sure be thankful to you kindness."
Marnie was completely flustered at this point and I was having a good time with it. I waited for her to acknowledge my comment, but he she pretended not to hear me.
In an effort to regain our established relationship. She bent over with her ass facing me and pulled 2 bottles of syrup out from under the cabinet and asked me if I wanted the usual or was I finally ready to try the white mocha she wanted me to try. We had developed this flirty little banter over the last couple weeks about my dislike for white mochas. Marnie of course asserts that her white mocha would change my mind. It was a nice attempt to direct things back to a place where she felt in control, but I had my own plan.
I just needed to let this bitch get herself in a little deeper so I tell her-
"I think you finally sold me, white mocha it is!"
Just as I had hoped she took that as a sign that she had got a pass on her earlier comment and was back in control. She stood up, facing me now (her shirt was always unbuttoned enough to show off her cleavage) and starts shaking one of the syrup bottles hard enough to make her tits dance around in her shirt. Looking up at me with a smile she says-
"You'll like my white mocha, I promise!"
This bitch was a fucking hardcore tease. Time to reel her back in with the race card.
"It's not like I haven't at least tried a white mocha, but I can bet you've never had your coffee black?" I asked while I looked her up and down so she would get my drift.
Now I had her back on the defensive. "I've had black coffee before." she says in a real I don't know what your implying kind of way.
"You know what I mean. Have you ever had a black boyfriend?" looking her straight in the eyes.
I knew she never so much as went to a movie with a black man; let alone spent any quality time with one. I also knew that the question would leave her at a loss for words and it did. I could see she was going to go to the- non of your business- play, but right before she could get to it, I asked her in a real soft voice if my being black was uncomfortable to her. That caught her off guard again and threw her deeper into a defensive state. I made my checkmate move while she was trying to process what was going on.
"If me being black bothers you, I'll quit coming here." I tell her.
The bitch couldn't very well say yes without me putting the racist label on her, and if she said no, then I'll put so much sexual pressure on her that the wetness of her pussy will make her die of dehydration. Either way I win. I'm sure she was more uncomfortable with the direction of the talk then she was with me being black, but I wasn't going to give her the time or room to express that.
Looking her straight in the eyes- "Well, I'm waiting for an answer."
"I'm fine with black men!" she fired back.
I kept pressing the same angle- "Marnie, you're not even a little uncomfortable with me because I'm black?".
I didn't give her time to answer before I continued on. This time I held my cock while looking her in the eyes-
"Black men hold their dicks like this...that doesn't make you even a little uncomfortable?"
I followed up with a playful laugh and a gesture to let her know I was messing with her. This was the out she was hoping for.
She playfully said- "You can play with that thing all you want, doesn't bother me!"
"Well you can shake your tits and ass at me all you want, doesn't mean you're not a racist!" I told her on my way out the door.
It became something of a game as I continued to hint at her being a racist every time the opportunity presented itself and she in turn would strengthen her resolve to convince me I was wrong. In her efforts to win over my mind she went from being just flirty to being down right seductive. She almost had me when she showed up in a little black miniskirt and instead of wiping hers hands off with the towel, she looked at me while sucking the coffee syrup from her fingers. I had this bitch desperate. I made a point of wearing loose fitting pants and holding my dick at the counter. I knew Marnie could see the outline of it when she brought my coffee. She got comfortable enough with me holding my dick that she quit trying to sneak looks and instead started openly remarking about me holding it. Eventually she tripped up and made a comment I could work her with.
She looked right at my dick, then at me and said-