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The anticipation she felt was almost like the kind she got when she saw a really attractive person - she could feel the desire pulsing through her veins.
Her first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season. It looked so perfect and beautiful, covered in luscious whipped cream, steaming hot, just waiting for her to put her lips to the rim and drink it in.
She felt a throb in her body that was undeniable - was she into this Pumpkin Spice Latte? Like...sexually?
Oh my god, Melissa Brewer, you cannot be attracted to a Pumpkin Spice Latte.
Her body wanted that Pumpkin Spice Latte, and not just to drink.
No one was in this part of the Starbucks. She was all alone with her Pumpkin Spice Latte. As she moved in for another sip, her left hand drifted down to her breast, pinching her nipple through the layers of her cardigan and two oversized tees.
The cup of PSL was so warm on her mouth that she wanted to see what it felt like on other parts of her.
The Pumpkin Spice Latte was almost moving of its own volition now, with Melissa just acting as a vessel for the sexual pleasure it was bringing her.
Was she really going to do this? Was she going to have sex with a Pumpkin Spice Latte in a Starbucks?
Melissa stroked herself as the Pumpkin Spice Latte moved up and down her body, this time splashing a little bit of itself on every part of her.
“You’re not - you’re not going to kick me out for having sex with a Pumpkin Spice Latte in your Starbucks?”
“I’m coming…” and both the goth girl and the guy with the Afro emptied their entire Pumpkin Spice Lattes onto Melissa’s writhing body.
“There are a certain few people who we call Pumpkin Spice-sexuals.
