An adventure in dessert

Better than sex?

Better than sex?

You close your eyes, the intensity builds.  You’ve waited so, so long.  You bring it to your lips, mouth dry in anticipation.  The heat flows, molten lava coursing through every vein.  Suddenly and explosively, you feel the shudder, from the top of your head, right down to the tips of your toes.  Warmth ignites your body, leaving you flushed and fully satisfied.

I like it burning hot, steamy, and in super jumbo, with an extra shot.  

Coffee. 

What would I do without it?  

I wake up in the morning feeling and looking like death on a bad day, and may lightning strike you down should you ask me a question.  I have enough trouble working out whether to make vegemite or ham sandwiches for school lunches, without trying to solve complex 7 and 4 year old life issues.

But within my first few sips I’m flush with life.  Don’t get me wrong, I like sex.  No, I love sex, I’d be an empty shell without it.  But I’d be an even emptier shell without caffeine.  

Coffee can be stupidly rich and strong, and it will never let me down, (unless I go instant or, God forbid, decaf. Wait, scratch that, that just wouldn’t happen.  I have standards.)  But not only can I have it as ridiculously rich as I like, I can make one mug of coffee last longer than 2 and a half minutes.  Unless, maybe, I was married to this guy.

Let me just take a moment to imagine that…

But I’m not married to Jamie Fraser, so we’ll move on.

A coffee will never cheat on you.  There will be no checking it’s mobile phone to find texts from another cup of coffee.  You’re skinny cap won’t come home smelling of full fat latte.  And let’s not forget, there’s no chance of picking up anything nasty, (if you picked up the guy in front of you’s vegan decaf weak flat white by mistake, then you’d be in for a nasty surprise, but let’s hope that never happens).

Coffee doesn’t want or need to cuddle, it cuddles you from the inside.  From the first, sweet mouthful of steaming hot cafe noir on an icy winter morning, to the last, it’s a full body hug. 

You can even do coffee in the middle of the day with everyone watching. You wouldn’t need to do the walk of shame with coffee there to hold your hand.  Coffee doesn’t care if you do a different coffee every day of the week!

You can pay for coffee, legally.  

But like bad sex, you can have bad coffee.  The wrong cup of coffee can mean the difference between a heavenly roasted morning, riding along on a dreamy cloud of caffeinated happiness or pretty rough ride until your next coffee fix.  

I can’t say for certain if coffee is better than sex, or the other way around.  In theory, all the evidence points to coffee being a much more reliable source of fulfilment, however, there’s something about sex that just keeps drawing me back.  So for now I’ll reserve judgement and go back to my hot mug of freshly brewed cappuccino.

How do you feel about coffee?  Leave your thoughts in the comments.  



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