Manager's Special Latte
Manager's special latte... For a moment, I thought my ears were playing tricks on me.
"Pardon? What kind of latte?"
"Breast Milk Latte."
She answered with a bright smile like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I swallowed hard.
"Manager, you don't mean... that breast milk is..."
"Yep, mine of course. I just squeezed it fresh, so I'm glad you like the taste."
Her voice was so kind and gentle that I instinctively glanced at her chest. Staring at her massive breasts hidden beneath that pristine white blouse, it hit me where the milk in my café latte had come from. I was suddenly speechless.
"It's not as much as right after giving birth, so I can't make it an official menu item... but I can still manage about one cup a day."
She said that while dipping her head slightly. A heavenly fragrance wafted over me for a second, and then our eyes met. Leaning in like she was sharing a secret, she whispered right in my ear.
"I've never done this for the other part-timers—it's a special treat just for you, Se-hyeon. Keep it secret from them, okay?"
"Y-yeah... Thanks, I'll enjoy it."
"Sure thing. If it's not enough, just say so. I can squeeze some more in the back."
She winked playfully and gave her voluptuous breasts a light squeeze. Watching that, I gulped again. She had this mature, grown-up vibe overall, plus insane beauty, and knowing this café latte was filled with her breast milk... I felt like I couldn't waste even a single drop.
Slurp...
Mmm... delicious.
I drained every last drop from the mug, right down to the bottom. Richer than regular milk, with that nutty aftertaste from a beautiful woman's breast milk lingering subtly in my mouth... I want more. It had this strangely addictive flavor.
"Alright, now that you've enjoyed it, time to get to work with some energy?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'll get ready right now."
I tied on my apron and headed to the counter.
Ding-a-ling—
The first customer arrived immediately.
"Welcome! How can I help you?"
"One iced Americano, please. Just two pumps of semen syrup, and to go."
"Pardon? Oh, uh, yes, ma'am..."
The first order was already weird, but I kept a straight face.
"I'll handle your payment."
After ringing her up, I ground the beans, pulled a shot, filled a cup with ice and water, poured in the espresso—Americano done. Now for the semen syrup...
"This must be it..."
Among the syrups, I spotted a new one I'd never seen. It was a plastic pump bottle labeled "Semen-Flavored Syrup." It grossed me out a bit, but telling myself it was just artificial syrup mimicking the taste—not actual semen—made it somewhat bearable. I pressed the pump firmly.
Unlike regular sugar syrup, a thick, slightly opaque, milky-white liquid squirted out onto the iced Americano.
Squirt—
"Your Americano's ready."
"Thanks."
As I watched, the female customer slurped it up happily through the straw and left the café.
...This stuff actually sells?
I like mint choco and even pineapple pizza, but I couldn't wrap my head around this bizarre semen-flavored syrup.
But then.
"One café latte, swap the milk for semen milk."
"Semen syrup on the bingsu, please."
"Semen matcha latte."
Why was everyone adding semen flavor? And why did it sell so damn well!?
Nine out of ten female customers ordered drinks with semen syrup or semen-flavored milk, and each time, I was floored. It wasn't even real semen—just imitation milk or syrup they treated like a must-have. The place seemed busier than usual, too.
Is semen flavor really this popular?
Processing the rush of orders, I just made what they asked for, and suddenly an hour had flown by.
...Good, time's passing quick.
Part-time jobs usually drag on forever, but working alone with a hot manager made it fly. Glancing over, the manager was whipping up drinks fast too. A male customer had ordered a Breast Milk Latte, but thankfully she was using breast milk-flavored milk, not squeezing fresh.
Watching her, I was relieved the customer version didn't involve her personal milk.
"Se-hyeon, you holding up okay?"
After the rush died down, she came over and put a hand on my shoulder.
"Sorry to drag you in on short notice like this."
"No, it's fine. But man, semen coffee is really popular."
She smiled sweetly at my comment.
"Hehe... There aren't many guys who shoot thick loads these days, right? Most have watery cum in small amounts... So they jazz it up with processed stuff that mimics the taste."
"Ah, got it."
"Lots of women hate semen syrup, though. It's not the real thing, after all."
That piqued my curiosity.
"So, are there places that use actual semen?"
"I hear fancier coffee spots do. But we don't have the means for that yet..."
Like using truffle oil instead of real truffles? That analogy helped it click. Apparently, cheap chains and neighborhood cafés rarely offered real semen coffee.
Making it seems simple enough.
Hell, I could probably do it now. High-quality semen was the rare part; the process looked easy.
Just mix semen into coffee and boom—gourmet? Yeah, I could make that.
"Have you ever tried one of those, Manager?"
"Huh? No, not yet. I've never had coffee with real semen. The stuff at Gayeon Hotel's lounge bar is supposed to be famous, though..."
Watching her lick her lips, a naughty idea popped into my head. What if I spiked her coffee with my semen? How would she react?
Perfect—no customers right now...
I had semen to spare. I'd only been on the receiving end of her kindness so far; this felt like a chance to return the favor.
"Manager, you haven't had coffee today, right?"
"Nope, saving it for later."
"Mind if I brew you a cup?"
She blinked in surprise.
"You, Se-hyeon? Of course!"
"J-just have a seat for a sec. I'll make one and bring it over."
"Okay, I'm looking forward to it~?"
Her beaming smile, like she was indulging a kid's antics, left me a bit embarrassed as I grabbed the beans.
Less than a year into café work, I was a total newbie. Brewing in front of a certified barista like her? Like a puppeteer in front of a pro—it was laughable. She was just being polite; no real expectations on taste.
She usually drinks drip coffee.
Hand-brewed, controlling the water manually. Taste varies wildly by skill.
No way I measure up.
I knew my limits. My drip wouldn't satisfy her palate yet. But I wasn't planning to win on coffee flavor alone.
Grind—
I ground the beans carefully, loaded the filter. Pouring hot water slowly from the pot, frothy bubbles rose with a rich coffee aroma.
Hot Americano done. I handed her the mug.
"Here you go, Manager."
"Hehe, I'll enjoy it~?"
She took it with a smile. Even if it sucked, she'd politely say it was good.
That's just her personality.
But the coffee wasn't finished yet.
"Manager, sorry, could you slide the mug forward a bit?"
"Huh? Why?"
"I realized I forgot to add something."
She smiled.
"I don't put syrup or sugar in my coffee?"
"No, not that. But I think this'll make it taste perfect."
"Hmm... okay? What is it?"
She held it out curiously. Sitting in her chair, the angle was ideal. Without hesitation, I dropped my pants right in front of her.
"...!"
Her eyes went wide.