the french vanilla coffee experience
Apr. 18th, 2002 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanit's cold inside the racquet club so that my toes have to huddle a bit closer to keep from regretting their choice of freedom in footwear this morning. the fluorescent lights overhead do nothing in the way of favors for the aproned kitchen staff behind the counters and seem almost zealous in their efforts to make the place cheery.
i wanted to make this short.
grabbing an original chick-fil-a sandwich (calorie-light chargrilled option be damned) and made to leave, when a Java City station flitted across my peripheral vision. i hadn't been in the mood for coffee, but having something to celebrate and no champagne (just thinking that word makes me smile self-consciously) i figured french vanilla coffee was a pleasant alternative. equal is the only saccharine that makes me smile.
i wave my Gator-1 like Qui-Gon pulling a mind whammy and the cashier doesn't bat an eyelash as i sail past, home free. do not underestimate the power of the perks that come with a free liberal arts education. i smile at the cloudscapes overhead - the rainy season is all but upon us, and the cumulonimbus puffs have been increasing in number and size and seeming to revel in their felicitous games of "afternoon" storms. my fingers are wrapped appreciatively around the cardboard and i bring the cup to my lips almost absently as i walk.
i've now had the time to process the next sensation: it's that final stretch of precarious, feels-so-good-it's-almost-painful twilight right before the sunburst of orgasm.
the coquettish liquid hits my tongue, catching it by surprise with its rich, silky texture. the temperature is just enough to send a warning jolt that curls low in my belly but not to singe the fragile tastebuds too wrapped up in singing glorious ballads to register anything else. sweetness and velvety warmth envelop my mouth and the sensation as it radiates sunshine and love through my chest is one of being hugged by a dear companion, a gesture of complete openness and acceptance as we intertwine and mix in a humanly impossible way. i sigh from my innermost being in pure appreciation, only then realizing that my eyes had slipped shut and my walking had slowed to a languid stroll. feeling drugged for the first time by America's stimulant of choice, i had to concentrate on taking a breath and not letting it come out in a choked sob of naked emotion. i may have teetered a bit on the level concrete path before regaining composure enough to move my feet with assurance that they would support my humming frame. each subsequent sip of the creamy (half & halved) liquid came with a renewed flash of what this abstract thing called goodness actually felt like. strangely, i could swear i was sensing the world in the same way that everything must seem quite logical yet infinitely magnificent in its mere existence to whomever could understand by way of whatever method that knowledge registers. hearing, touch, taste, smell, sight, emotion, reflex, conscious thought and subconscious desire all piqued and synched so that one is no longer moving through the world, rather, floating in an ether of it with no more or less clearly defined boundaries between the self and the warm spring air than the deceptively straightforward clouds above. like being submerged in tidal ocean water, totally at the whim and mercy of the waves and currents because it you're on its turf and there's no price on its respect or lenience.
even now the taste lingers in the back of my throat, so that every time i swallow i get a little aftershock of ecstasy like cracking LSD crystals in the spine before the rippling movements of peristalsis move those last few lingering molecules down to the winding abyss of my digestive system. and somewhere inside, my feline power animal purrs in unabashed satisfaction and curls into itself in its indescribably elegant way to cherish his lot in life.
i wanted to make this short.
grabbing an original chick-fil-a sandwich (calorie-light chargrilled option be damned) and made to leave, when a Java City station flitted across my peripheral vision. i hadn't been in the mood for coffee, but having something to celebrate and no champagne (just thinking that word makes me smile self-consciously) i figured french vanilla coffee was a pleasant alternative. equal is the only saccharine that makes me smile.
i wave my Gator-1 like Qui-Gon pulling a mind whammy and the cashier doesn't bat an eyelash as i sail past, home free. do not underestimate the power of the perks that come with a free liberal arts education. i smile at the cloudscapes overhead - the rainy season is all but upon us, and the cumulonimbus puffs have been increasing in number and size and seeming to revel in their felicitous games of "afternoon" storms. my fingers are wrapped appreciatively around the cardboard and i bring the cup to my lips almost absently as i walk.
i've now had the time to process the next sensation: it's that final stretch of precarious, feels-so-good-it's-almost-painful twilight right before the sunburst of orgasm.
the coquettish liquid hits my tongue, catching it by surprise with its rich, silky texture. the temperature is just enough to send a warning jolt that curls low in my belly but not to singe the fragile tastebuds too wrapped up in singing glorious ballads to register anything else. sweetness and velvety warmth envelop my mouth and the sensation as it radiates sunshine and love through my chest is one of being hugged by a dear companion, a gesture of complete openness and acceptance as we intertwine and mix in a humanly impossible way. i sigh from my innermost being in pure appreciation, only then realizing that my eyes had slipped shut and my walking had slowed to a languid stroll. feeling drugged for the first time by America's stimulant of choice, i had to concentrate on taking a breath and not letting it come out in a choked sob of naked emotion. i may have teetered a bit on the level concrete path before regaining composure enough to move my feet with assurance that they would support my humming frame. each subsequent sip of the creamy (half & halved) liquid came with a renewed flash of what this abstract thing called goodness actually felt like. strangely, i could swear i was sensing the world in the same way that everything must seem quite logical yet infinitely magnificent in its mere existence to whomever could understand by way of whatever method that knowledge registers. hearing, touch, taste, smell, sight, emotion, reflex, conscious thought and subconscious desire all piqued and synched so that one is no longer moving through the world, rather, floating in an ether of it with no more or less clearly defined boundaries between the self and the warm spring air than the deceptively straightforward clouds above. like being submerged in tidal ocean water, totally at the whim and mercy of the waves and currents because it you're on its turf and there's no price on its respect or lenience.
even now the taste lingers in the back of my throat, so that every time i swallow i get a little aftershock of ecstasy like cracking LSD crystals in the spine before the rippling movements of peristalsis move those last few lingering molecules down to the winding abyss of my digestive system. and somewhere inside, my feline power animal purrs in unabashed satisfaction and curls into itself in its indescribably elegant way to cherish his lot in life.
