IKEA Cafe Hookup | NEON LIT

IKEA on a Saturday—basically a relationship test I was taking alone. Lost somewhere between KALLAX and MALM, I was contemplating existence when she found me.

"You look as lost as I feel."

She was curvy, gorgeous, pushing a trolley full of cushions. Brunette with pink tips, nose ring, wearing dungarees that somehow looked sexy.

"Just trying to find the shortcut to the exit."

"Don't exist. I've looked." She laughed. "Fancy getting meatballs instead? I've given up on finding a bedside table."

"Best offer I've had all day."

The café was packed, but we found a corner table. Three plates of meatballs later, we were both slightly regretful but very comfortable.

"I'm Sasha, by the way."

"Jake."

"Jake." She tested the name. "You're fit, Jake. Too fit to be shopping at IKEA alone on a Saturday."

"Recently single."

"Snap." She pushed her plate away. "Six months of celibacy and I'm losing my mind. My flatmate says I need to get back out there." She looked at me. "You could be out there."

"Could I?"

"If you wanted." She leaned closer. "There's a warehouse section downstairs. Nobody goes there. Just saying."

The warehouse was exactly as deserted as she'd promised. Rows of flat-pack furniture, industrial shelving, the distant sound of trolley wheels.

"Right here," she said, pulling me behind a stack of HEMNES dressers. "Quick, before someone comes."

She kissed me hard, all that pent-up energy releasing at once. Her body was soft and warm through the dungarees.

"God, I needed this," she breathed. "Six months is way too long."

The dungarees came down, revealing curves that made my mouth water. Her bra was practical but what was inside wasn't.

"Like them?"

"They're perfect."

I buried my face in her tits while she worked at my jeans. When she got her hand around me, she moaned.

"Fuck yes. This is what I've been missing."

I dropped to my knees, pulled aside her knickers. She was wet, ready, and came fast against the flat-packs.

"Inside me—need it—"

I stood, lifted her onto a sturdy-looking box. She wrapped her legs around me as I pushed in.

"Yes—harder—"

We fucked in the IKEA warehouse, the sound of my thrusts echoing off the industrial ceiling. She came twice more.

"Close—inside—"

I came deep, holding her against me.

A forklift started somewhere in the distance. We fixed ourselves fast, emerging from behind the dressers like nothing happened.

"Coffee?" she asked, straightening her dungarees.

"And your number?"

"That too." She kissed me. "But I'm keeping the cushions."

Left IKEA with zero furniture and one very promising contact.

Best Saturday I'd had in months.