Like you Don't Already Think you are

I was planning to finish up the book with a short chapter on coffee. If you've been coming here for a while, you've seen most of the text before. I wrote it a long time ago, in two separate entries. Female readers reacted to it well.

The tone of the piece is quite a bit different from the other chapters. I'm wondering if I should leave it out.

Here:

I've been REALLY good about caffeine for like the last two weeks, but without the added internal pressure, my brain has collapsed into a small, withered, useless mass resembling Walter Mondale’s prostate.

Time to pump it up.

Coffee is no longer a simple subject. You used to dump Maxwell House into a percolator and let her rip, but now you have to have a Ph.D. to choose your grind, and frankly I am no expert. But I know ONE thing that will be of use to regular guys like me who want to make really good coffee with minimal training: use espresso. The best coffee I know of is Blue Mountain, from Jamaica, which costs $40.00 a pound. Absolutely no bitterness. After that comes Kona, cheap at maybe $15.00 per pound. And then there’s premium espresso, like Pilon, which costs about the same as potting soil. Use half a rounded tablespoon per six-ounce cup, and put it in your regular coffeemaker. You’ll be amazed. That’s what I’m doing today.

Ten cups of hot, steaming, life-giving coffee, slowly, wetly, helplessly dribbling through the sheer mesh filter of my pulsing, throbbing, aching coffeemaker. The drops slowly forming at the basket's sensitive tip...the kitchen counter humming...vibrating along with me in our own special, secret rhythm...

Oh God.

I think it moved.

Is it really done?

Smooth and bare as a baby's cheek, burning my skin as you nestle urgently in my palm...is it me, or do I feel you grinding...slowly rocking...pleading silently for my firm yet measured response...I feel your heat rising to my face, warming my tortured lips, carried on your fragrant steam...your scent elusive yet overwhelming...there you are before me...open...hot...unashamed...inviting...

I press my starving lips against your alabaster body...at last...your heat...your wetness...running down my throat in waves as I take you in in gulps, opening wider and wider...wanting all of you inside me...arching my back to get every last drop of you...

Not bad for $4.50 a pound.