The café was bustling, the hum of conversation blending with the clatter of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. Safi moved behind the counter with practiced ease, her long black hair tied back in a loose braid that swayed with every step. She wore a crisp white apron over her casual outfit—a fitted black t-shirt that clung to her curves and dark jeans that hugged her strong thighs. The apron, made of thick cotton, was slightly stiff, but it framed her figure well, hiding little of her ample bosom. Her breasts, noticeable, pressed against the fabric, their natural sag creating a subtle shadow beneath the apron’s edge.She glanced up as the café door chimed, her dark eyes locking briefly with a man who had just entered. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a confident stride, his tailored shirt hinting at a well-toned physique beneath. His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, a small smirk playing on his lips as he approached the counter.“What can I get you?” Safi asked, her voice soft but steady, her accent lending her words a melodic quality.“A latte,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth. “Extra shot. And whatever you recommend for milk.” His eyes flicked down to the shelf of milks behind her—a quirky feature of the café that offered everything from almond to oat to macadamia.“Cashew milk pairs well with the roast we’re using today,” she suggested, turning to grab a bottle. As she reached up, she felt a strange tightness in her chest, a warmth that spread uncomfortably. She ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. His gaze was still on her, his expression one of mild amusement. “You must really know your stuff.”“It’s my job,” she replied with a small smile, though she could feel her cheeks warming under his scrutiny. She poured the milk into the frother, careful not to spill, but the sensation in her chest was becoming harder to ignore. It was almost... tingling.“Do you always work alone?” he asked, his tone light but probing.“Not always,” she said, glancing at him briefly before turning back to the machine. “But it’s a busy day.”He chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. “Well, you’re handling your milk like a pro, that I can see.”Safi focused on finishing his drink, but the tingling in her chest had turned into a dull ache. She glanced down, alarmed to see two small, damp spots forming on her apron, right over her breasts. Her heart leapt into her throat. What the hell? She quickly set the latte on the counter, forcing a calm expression.“Here you go,” she said, sliding the cup toward him.He looked at the latte, then at her, his smirk widening. “Thanks. You look like you could use a break.”“I’m fine,” she said quickly, stepping back from the counter. “Enjoy your drink.”As soon as he walked away, she turned and hurried toward the back of the café, her hand instinctively pressing against her chest. The dampness was undeniable now, and her mind raced. This can’t be happening. She pushed open the bathroom door and locked it behind her, leaning against the sink as she caught her breath.She pulled off the apron and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her black t-shirt was clinging to her milkshake cannons, the fabric darkened in two distinct circles around her nipples. Her hands trembled as she lifted her shirt, revealing her knockers in their simple black bra. The cups were strained against the weight of her breasts, and as she unhooked the bra, she gasped.Her the twins were swollen, the areolas darker than usual, and her long nipples were erect and glistening with... milk? Safi’s breath hitched as a single droplet formed at the tip of one nipple and fell onto her bare skin. She stared at it in disbelief, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.“What the fuck?” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. She cupped one breast gently, feeling the fullness, the heat radiating from it. Another droplet formed, and she wiped it away with her finger, bringing it to her nose. The faint, sweet scent confirmed what she already knew. This isn’t normal.Her thoughts raced. She wasn’t pregnant. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months. So why was this happening? And why now?A knock on the bathroom door made her jump. “Safi? You okay in there?” It was her coworker, Leila.“Uh, yeah,” Safi called back, her voice shaky. “Just... give me a minute.”She looked back at her reflection, panic bubbling up inside her. She couldn’t stay in here forever. But how was she supposed to go back out there like this? The man from earlier was still out front, and the thought of him noticing anything only made her more anxious.She grabbed some paper towels and pressed them against her airbags, trying to soak up the moisture. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions and fears, but one thing was clear: she needed to figure out what was going on—and fast.Once she'd composed herself, Safi stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing her apron back into place. The man from earlier was still lounging at a corner table, sipping his latte with that same self-assured smirk. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on cashing him out quickly. As soon as he left, she turned to Leila, who was wiping down the counter.“Can we talk for a sec?” Safi asked, her voice low.Leila glanced up, her brow furrowing at the tension in Safi’s tone. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”Safi hesitated, then leaned in closer. “Something... weird happened,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—I think I’m... lactating.”Leila’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”Safi nodded, her cheeks flushing. “It just started today. Out of nowhere.”Leila blinked, clearly processing the information. “That’s... really unexpected. Have you seen a doctor?”“Not yet,” Safi admitted. “I don’t even know what to say if I do.”Leila reached out, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Let’s get through the rest of the shift, and we can grab lunch during our break. Talk it out, yeah?”Safi managed a small smile, grateful for her friend’s support. “Thanks, Leila.”The rest of the day passed in a blur, the ache in her breasts a constant reminder of the bizarre turn her life had taken. By the time her shift ended, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. She trudged home, her thoughts swirling with unanswered questions.Alone in her apartment, Safi sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. Why is this happening? She wasn’t pregnant—she had taken a test just last month, and it had been negative. Her love life had been practically nonexistent, save for a few casual encounters that didn’t warrant this kind of reaction. So why now?Her hand drifted to her chest, fingers brushing against the tender flesh beneath her shirt. The ache was mild but persistent, a dull throb that refused to be ignored. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts aside. Maybe it was stress. Or hormones. Or something else entirely.With a heavy sigh, she dragged herself to bed, the weight of the day pulling her down. As she drifted off to sleep, the ache in her breasts lingered, a silent reminder of the mystery that still loomed over her.

Safi, a barista, experienced a strange sensation and began lactating while serving a customer at the café. She quickly hid in the bathroom to assess the situation, and later confided in her coworker Leila about the unexpected occurrence. Safi spent the rest of her shift in a state of confusion and discomfort, unable to understand why this was happening.

The café was bustling, the hum of conversation blending with the clatter of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine. Safi moved behind the counter with practiced ease, her long black hair tied back in a loose braid that swayed with every step. She wore a crisp white apron over her casual outfit—a fitted black t-shirt that clung to her curves and dark jeans that hugged her strong thighs. The apron, made of thick cotton, was slightly stiff, but it framed her figure well, hiding little of her ample bosom. Her breasts, noticeable, pressed against the fabric, their natural sag creating a subtle shadow beneath the apron’s edge.

She glanced up as the café door chimed, her dark eyes locking briefly with a man who had just entered. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a confident stride, his tailored shirt hinting at a well-toned physique beneath. His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, a small smirk playing on his lips as he approached the counter.

“What can I get you?” Safi asked, her voice soft but steady, her accent lending her words a melodic quality.

“A latte,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth. “Extra shot. And whatever you recommend for milk.” His eyes flicked down to the shelf of milks behind her—a quirky feature of the café that offered everything from almond to oat to macadamia.

“Cashew milk pairs well with the roast we’re using today,” she suggested, turning to grab a bottle. As she reached up, she felt a strange tightness in her chest, a warmth that spread uncomfortably. She ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, leaning casually against the counter. His gaze was still on her, his expression one of mild amusement. “You must really know your stuff.”

“It’s my job,” she replied with a small smile, though she could feel her cheeks warming under his scrutiny. She poured the milk into the frother, careful not to spill, but the sensation in her chest was becoming harder to ignore. It was almost... tingling.

“Do you always work alone?” he asked, his tone light but probing.

“Not always,” she said, glancing at him briefly before turning back to the machine. “But it’s a busy day.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. “Well, you’re handling your milk like a pro, that I can see.”

Safi focused on finishing his drink, but the tingling in her chest had turned into a dull ache. She glanced down, alarmed to see two small, damp spots forming on her apron, right over her breasts. Her heart leapt into her throat. What the hell? She quickly set the latte on the counter, forcing a calm expression.

“Here you go,” she said, sliding the cup toward him.

He looked at the latte, then at her, his smirk widening. “Thanks. You look like you could use a break.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, stepping back from the counter. “Enjoy your drink.”

As soon as he walked away, she turned and hurried toward the back of the café, her hand instinctively pressing against her chest. The dampness was undeniable now, and her mind raced. This can’t be happening. She pushed open the bathroom door and locked it behind her, leaning against the sink as she caught her breath.

She pulled off the apron and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her black t-shirt was clinging to her milkshake cannons, the fabric darkened in two distinct circles around her nipples. Her hands trembled as she lifted her shirt, revealing her knockers in their simple black bra. The cups were strained against the weight of her breasts, and as she unhooked the bra, she gasped.

Her the twins were swollen, the areolas darker than usual, and her long nipples were erect and glistening with... milk? Safi’s breath hitched as a single droplet formed at the tip of one nipple and fell onto her bare skin. She stared at it in disbelief, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.

“What the fuck?” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. She cupped one breast gently, feeling the fullness, the heat radiating from it. Another droplet formed, and she wiped it away with her finger, bringing it to her nose. The faint, sweet scent confirmed what she already knew. This isn’t normal.

Her thoughts raced. She wasn’t pregnant. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone in months. So why was this happening? And why now?

A knock on the bathroom door made her jump. “Safi? You okay in there?” It was her coworker, Leila.

“Uh, yeah,” Safi called back, her voice shaky. “Just... give me a minute.”

She looked back at her reflection, panic bubbling up inside her. She couldn’t stay in here forever. But how was she supposed to go back out there like this? The man from earlier was still out front, and the thought of him noticing anything only made her more anxious.

She grabbed some paper towels and pressed them against her airbags, trying to soak up the moisture. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions and fears, but one thing was clear: she needed to figure out what was going on—and fast.

Once she'd composed herself, Safi stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing her apron back into place. The man from earlier was still lounging at a corner table, sipping his latte with that same self-assured smirk. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on cashing him out quickly. As soon as he left, she turned to Leila, who was wiping down the counter.

“Can we talk for a sec?” Safi asked, her voice low.

Leila glanced up, her brow furrowing at the tension in Safi’s tone. “Yeah, of course. Everything okay?”

Safi hesitated, then leaned in closer. “Something... weird happened,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I—I think I’m... lactating.”

Leila’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

Safi nodded, her cheeks flushing. “It just started today. Out of nowhere.”

Leila blinked, clearly processing the information. “That’s... really unexpected. Have you seen a doctor?”

“Not yet,” Safi admitted. “I don’t even know what to say if I do.”

Leila reached out, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. Let’s get through the rest of the shift, and we can grab lunch during our break. Talk it out, yeah?”

Safi managed a small smile, grateful for her friend’s support. “Thanks, Leila.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, the ache in her breasts a constant reminder of the bizarre turn her life had taken. By the time her shift ended, she was exhausted both physically and mentally. She trudged home, her thoughts swirling with unanswered questions.

Alone in her apartment, Safi sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. Why is this happening? She wasn’t pregnant—she had taken a test just last month, and it had been negative. Her love life had been practically nonexistent, save for a few casual encounters that didn’t warrant this kind of reaction. So why now?

Her hand drifted to her chest, fingers brushing against the tender flesh beneath her shirt. The ache was mild but persistent, a dull throb that refused to be ignored. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts aside. Maybe it was stress. Or hormones. Or something else entirely.

With a heavy sigh, she dragged herself to bed, the weight of the day pulling her down. As she drifted off to sleep, the ache in her breasts lingered, a silent reminder of the mystery that still loomed over her.

In a bustling café, a barista named Safi is caught off guard when a handsome customer's flirtatious advances trigger an unexpected and embarrassing reaction—her breasts begin to leak milk, forcing her to retreat to the bathroom in a state of shock and confusion.

She grapples with the sudden onset of lactation, trying to understand the cause and how to manage the situation discreetly.

The public setting and the risk of exposure add layers of tension and humiliation, as Safi must navigate her newfound condition while continuing to serve customers, including the man who inadvertently sparked this unexpected event.

Latte for Safi

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