“Are you sure I’m not the only reason you broke up with Betsy? I’d hate to be the cause of that.” I swirled the spoon in my double capp, settling the steam milk froth, turning the blackness of the coffee a dark cream. Mocha Daze was bustling, but Shirley and I were completely focused upon each other.

“No, I was getting everything I needed. The sex was great. Betsy is all sexed-up that’s for sure, but that’s all we ever talked about.”

“And you need to talk about more?”

“Cute, but yes, or at least have a sort of unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what me and Betsy didn’t have. I have it with you. Clearly, we get something just from being around each other. A certain energy you can live off of.”

“But perhaps that would go away if I let you touch me.”

“Let me, you’re dying for me. Fran, you know we’re supposed to be together and we will be together. I was thinking of something special. Perhaps a weekend at Pismo Beach?”

I hadn’t been out of town in a while and the thought of forgetting everything around me and having sex all weekend with someone I’ve wanted for a while now made me think that sometimes you do get what you need. “When?” My eagerness was obvious.

“This weekend, if you can wait that long. Can you?”

“Do I have to?”

“Afraid so, but it’s not going to be easy for me either. I’ve been thinking about being close to you for months now. I want it to be great. And it will be because I feel so strongly about it.”

For once someone who is brave enough to be honest. I wish I had her aggressiveness, but I was pleased enough with her attention on me. It made me think of nothing else than being with her. I had a glimmer of a thought about Betsy, but Shirley’s pressed leg against mine cleared my brain for thoughts of her only.

When I got home Betsy was waiting naked in my bed. She just lay there even after I asked her to get dressed. “I’m cold Fran. If I get out of this bed, I’ll be even colder. Just warm me a little.”

I sat at her side. “Betsy, it’s not going to work. I had a long talk with Shirley and-”

“Bet you didn’t tell her ‘bout me!”

“Please don’t be that way.”

“Why, why shouldn’t I be pissed off? You wanted Shirley, you screwed me over to get her, and now you literally fucked me. It’s not gonna look too great in Shirley’s moral eyes. She hates that kind of stuff, that’s one thing I know about Shirley.” She sat up, the covers falling to her waist. “Please just touch me a little, Fran.”

“You make it seem like I’m playing you, but it’s you who’s playing me.”

“I’m not playing anybody, I just want you to touch me. And I know there’s a part of you that’s wanting to touch me, so why not?”

“Because...” My hand slid up her arm, down over her chest, until finally resting on her stomach.

“Please don’t stop Fran, I really need this.”

Who am I not to give a girl what she needs? I leaned into her, imagining a lover who literally never would leave my bed; there for me to take when I wanted pleasure and fun; there to keep my bed warm whenever I needed it.