I have not gotten together with Pete for “coffee” in over a year because there has been no need for it. We don’t date. We are not involved in each other’s lives. I know he just expects me to visit him on occasion for sex which is fine because it’s completely honest which is what we like about each other. We flirt shamelessly via harmless text messages. He was the man who told me it was sexy making love to me because I’m “helpless”. I had asked him what his thoughts were when he first met me because I have a disability. OK the conversation was more crude than that, but I’m trying to keep it classy here.
This story is a follow up to this tale:
I love coffee. I need it to function. I am addicted to it. Can say most of that about sex, too, but I can’t say it’s an…
Limiting our contact with each other to just text messages has been fun. I have to think he thinks it’s fun, too, or he wouldn’t do it. Pete pops up on my phone at some interesting times. There seems to be some kind of energetic connection whereby we know the other is thinking about the other. I have known I had no plans to go see him, but he persisted at checking in with me. This has been going on for over a year. It has a way of building some sexual tension. He finally told me he is just trying to catch me on a “yes” day, God bless his heart.
I came across his profile on OKCupid about a month ago, and sent him an innocent message as if I didn’t know who he was. It was a few weeks before he responded with “You looking for a good time?” We threw a couple of silly messages back and forth. Later that night, I texted him and asked if he was “cheating” on me because I saw him prowling around on OKCupid. This was totally absurd because we don’t have a real relationship where cheating could even be a thing. He told me he was horny. I said if I was nice I would come over and help him out. Uh oh, now he thought I was coming over, and I wasn’t.
The messages went back and forth for about a week. It was Thanksgiving so things were busy not leaving much time for a rendezvous. I sort of missed seeing him though even if it was for a meaningless encounter. There’s a place for those in life, I think.
Going back in time to when I used to message Pete in the morning to see what he was up to, I innocently texted “Got coffee?” on the Friday after Thanksgiving. He was at the gym, but said I could come over when he got home.
I know Pete doesn’t keep real coffee in his house because in the past, he had picked up cups of coffee for us at the nearby Dunkin Donuts. So, I messaged him that I like regular coffee with cream and one sugar, HOT! assuming he would pick that up before I came over. I suggested he turn up his heat and I would let him think I need help getting undressed.
When I arrived at his house, he wanted to know if I like instant coffee. I haven’t had instant coffee more than maybe once in my life. But, I’m a good sport so I chose the “Dark Roast” variety he had with interest. I chalked this up to the typical bachelor lifestyle I knew Pete lived.
He doesn’t even have a tea kettle to boil water so he wanted to know if microwave water was ok. This was not the time for me to start having standards. The coffee was hot and he did have cream and stevia sweetener.
We sat down together at his kitchen peninsula seating to drink our coffee. We don’t have a lot to talk about and it doesn’t matter. That was not why I was there and we both knew it. He looked as good as ever. We talked about how Thanksgiving had gone, and whatever was on the tv news in front of us. I noticed some changes to his decor. He told me I was looking at “new dust” on his table because someone had recently dusted (He never does). Bachelors…
Pete is not the most literary type, but he has read some things I have written here. I think he was flattered by the original “Coffee” story that featured him. I’ve sent him some links to a few other stories of interest to him, especially where he is featured.
When the instant coffee was finished, it was time to move on to our real coffee. I made an exaggerrated show of being “helpless” and unable to get undressed by myself. Of course, Pete was happy to help. He even turned up the heat.
I know a good looking guy like Pete has no trouble hooking up with plenty of women. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one among them who is “helpless”. When we were done with the real coffee, he helped me put my clothes back on through zipping up my coat.
As he was helping me down his front steps, he gave me the idea for this story. He said, “Oh, now you have to write the story of “Instant Coffee”.
I think that term defines what I am to Pete: a sex-positive, single woman who doesn’t ask for or expect much from him. I am, “Instant Coffee”.
I now see Pete as the guy who, like instant coffee, will do in a pinch.
Thank you for reading :)