"I am, yes, I -" They throw their head back, crying out in frustration when the car stops and Justin's hand is heavy and insistent on them still. They feel their pussy gush just a little, right when their Patron squeezes, causing the front of their slacks to darken slightly with the evidence of their pleasure.

But it's not enough. Not nearly. And now the driver is saying something about their destination and the parking meter. Monty hears the door unlock and their eyes fly open in alarm. That's right, they had an errand to run.

They barely have any time to recompose themselves or to come down from the high of getting so worked up. And it's not like anyone says anything, but it's enough that they themselves know what they look like, walking into the café with their hair a mess, their cheeks blotchy, and their clothes damp and wrinkled where they shouldn't be. They go to the counter and wordlessly grabs their Patron's order, never once meeting anyone's eyes.

It's so humiliating.

And so fucking hot.