They all went for sexual satisfaction and exploration. The Coffee Bean was not a club, nor a brothel, nor a place where prostitutes met. The only ridi...ulous pricing was on the exquisite teas, coffees and drinks at the glowing bar. On entry, the rich, dark aroma of fine coffee flooded the senses and pervaded the fibres of visitors' clothing. It was clear that the place was backed into the Dark Arches that held aloft the train station. The vaulted arches of the ceiling were painted gunmetal grey,. ‘I want to do bad things to you,’ you said. My lips curved up in a smile. I stood up fully, shook out my hair as your hands traced over my body — starting high on my sides, smoothing out my blouse and down the skirt that pulled taut across my thighs. You held me there and then followed with your eyes the path your hands had made. You leaned in, I felt your hands tighten on me, and then you imparted the most delicate of kisses right where my belly button would be. I turned around then and. More

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