🌶️ Sue’s After-Dark Diaries Ep 38

Coffee, Bad Decisions, and a Bag Full of Problems

Coffee, Delusion & Poor Life Choices

I met Mark for coffee because apparently I enjoy emotional risk-taking before noon.

He was already there, of course. Sitting like he’d never once caused me chaos in his life, which is his favourite hobby: rewriting history in real time while looking annoyingly attractive doing it.

I sat down and immediately pretended I was calm, stable, and not one comment away from disaster.

None of those things were true.

Because Dan was in my bag.

Dan is pink. Dan is loyal. Dan is also deeply opinionated for something technically classified as an object.

I hadn’t even finished my first sip of coffee when—

bzzzz

Soft. Warning-level.

Mark’s eyes flicked straight to my bag.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “He’s here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, far too quickly for someone innocent.

bzzzzzz

Louder.

Mark smiled into his coffee. “He’s active today.”

“He’s not active,” I said. “He’s resting.”

“He sounds like he’s interrupting you.”

“He is not—” bzzzz “—interrupting anything.”

Mark leaned back like he was enjoying a private show. “I’ve missed him.”

I glared at him. “That sentence is concerning.”

He shrugged. “We’ve met.”

Unfortunately, yes. They have.

And I hate that I can’t erase that from reality.

Mark, Memory & Mutual Bad Decisions

There’s a particular kind of danger in sitting opposite Mark.

Not loud danger.

Worse.

Comfortable danger.

The kind that pretends it’s coffee and conversation but is actually a slow re-entry into chaos you absolutely should have learned to avoid.

“So,” he said casually, “are you still pretending you’re not thinking about upgrading him?”

“I’m not upgrading anything.”

bzzzz

Dan disagreed loudly.

Mark smirked. “He’s very opinionated.”

“He is not opinionated.”

“He’s vibrating aggressively.”

“That’s not opinion. That’s a malfunction.”

Mark leaned forward slightly. “There are new models, you know.”

I paused.

“…Why do you know that?”

He smiled. “Because I’ve seen them.”

Of course, he has.

Of course, Mark has casually wandered into the exact kind of information that should not be part of his personality profile.

Sharon would’ve loved this. Which is never a good thought to have unprompted—

Sharon Arrives Like Gossip Has Legs

—and then Sharon arrived.

Of course she did.

Sharon doesn’t enter spaces. She interrupts them into submission.

She slid into the café like she already owned the narrative.

And she was holding Benji.

My dog.

Sitting in her arms like this was a normal arrangement and not an immediate legal grey area.

I stopped mid-breath.

“Why do you have my dog?”

Sharon looked genuinely surprised when I asked. “He was barking.”

A pause.

“I assumed it was emotional.”

Mark made a noise into his coffee that was absolutely laughter disguised as survival.

“That’s not a reason to take him,” I said slowly.

“It is if the emotion is disruptive,” Sharon replied.

Benji, completely unbothered by his sudden relocation and moral ambiguity, spotted Mark and immediately attempted to launch himself across the table like a tiny furry missile of unresolved grudges.

Mark sighed. “He still hates me.”

“That’s not hate,” Sharon said calmly. “That’s memory.”

I stared at both of them.

“So just to confirm,” I said, “you kidnapped my dog because he had feelings?”

“He wasn’t kidnapped,” Sharon said. “He was supported.”

Mark leaned back, amused. “This is very on-brand for you, Sue.”

“I hate all of you.”

Dan buzzed.

Loudly.

Perfect timing.

Bad Ideas Start Talking

Somewhere between embarrassment and curiosity, the conversation shifted.

Which is always where things go wrong.

Mark tilted his head. “Still thinking about the shop?”

I narrowed my eyes. “We are not calling it that.”

Sharon perked up immediately. “Oh, I love the shop.”

Of course she does.

Mark looked between us. “There are new models, you know.”

“I’m aware,” I muttered.

Sharon nodded seriously. “Upgrades matter.”

“I am not upgrading Dan.”

bzzzzzz

Dan strongly disagreed.

Mark smiled. “He sounds emotionally attached to his current form.”

“He is NOT emotionally attached.”

“He’s literally reacting to the conversation.”

I leaned back. “Why are we discussing this in public?”

Sharon shrugged. “Because it’s educational.”

Mark added, far too casually, “I could try one.”

That sentence should have been illegal.

“…A male version?” I asked slowly.

Sharon clapped once. “Oh, this is excellent.”

I buried my face in my hands. “This is my life now.”

Dan buzzed again.

Very loudly.

Like he had opinions.

Which, apparently, he does.

Flirting, Chaos & Poor Boundaries

At this point, coffee was just a decoration.

Mark was fully enjoying himself now.

“You’d definitely notice the difference,” he said casually.

“Stop talking like you’ve tested them,” I snapped.

“I have experience,” he replied.

Sharon nodded approvingly. “He does.”

I stared at both of them. “Why are you like this?”

Mark leaned in slightly. “You started it.”

“I did NOT start this.”

bzzzzzz

Dan chose violence again.

Sharon smiled. “He’s reacting strongly today.”

“He is not reacting. He is malfunctioning.”

Mark’s eyes flicked to my bag again. “He’s jealous.”

“He’s not jealous.”

“He buzzed when I said male version.”

“That’s a coincidence.”

“That’s personality,” Sharon corrected.

I took a long sip of coffee out of pure emotional exhaustion.

Walk Home Damage Control

Eventually, we left.

Not because anything was resolved.

Nothing ever is.

Mark walked too close, like personal space is optional when he’s involved.

Sharon walked like she was mentally writing a gossip column in real time.

Benji walked like he was still processing his emotional kidnapping.

I walked like someone trying to understand how this became my life.

Dan stayed in my bag.

Occasionally buzzing.

Occasionally reminding me I have no authority over any of this.

Mark glanced at me. “Still thinking about upgrading?”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

Sharon nodded. “She is.”

I sighed. “I hate all of you.”

Mark smiled. “That means you had fun.”

That’s the problem.

I probably did.

The Walk That Got Dangerous

The walk home should’ve been the safe part. Fresh air. Sanity reset.

It wasn’t.

Mark stayed glued to my left side, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps like he was testing how much contact I’d allow before I snapped. Sharon floated on my right, still cradling Benji like a furry hostage negotiator. My bag containing one very vocal pink problem swung between us, occasionally letting out a low, insistent buzz that made my thighs clench involuntarily.

Dan wasn’t done with his commentary.

bzzzzzz—longer this time, deeper, the kind of rumble that travels straight through fabric and settles low in your belly.

Mark’s voice dropped, warm against my ear. “He’s really not happy about the male version idea, is he?”

I swallowed hard. “He’s a toy. He doesn’t have feelings.”

“Tell that to the way your cheeks just flushed,” Sharon said sweetly, not even looking at me. “Or the way you’re walking like you’re trying not to squirm.”

“I am not squirming.”

Another buzz. Harder. Right against my hip. The vibration hummed through the thin material of my dress and hit exactly where it shouldn’t in public. A tiny, involuntary sound escaped my throat… half sigh, half whimper.

Mark noticed. Of course he did.

His hand brushed the small of my back, guiding me around a puddle, but the touch lingered half a second too long. “Careful, Sue. If he keeps that up, you’re going to need a new definition of ‘malfunction.’”

Sharons imagination

Sharon leaned in, voice low and conspiratorial. “Imagine if we actually went to the shop right now. You, me, Mark… testing models side by side. You could sit between us on one of those big velvet chairs they have in the demo rooms. Dan on low while Mark describes exactly how the new one would feel sliding in… thicker, warmer, with that little curve that hits—”

“Sharon,” I hissed, but my voice came out breathy, not sharp.

Dan chose that exact moment to pulse in a slow, teasing rhythm. One… two… three… then a long, rolling wave that made my knees feel suspiciously liquid. Heat pooled low and fast. I pressed my thighs together mid-step, trying to muffle the sensation, but that only made it worse—pressing the buzzing silicone firmer against my already sensitive skin.

Mark’s smirk was criminal. “You’re wet right now, aren’t you?”

“I will murder you both and bury you under the same café table.”

Sharon laughed softly. “She didn’t say no.”

By the time we reached my front door, my pulse was everywhere: throat, wrists, and definitely between my legs. Dan had settled into a smug, low hum like he knew he’d won this round.

Mark stopped too close, eyes dark. “Still not thinking about upgrading?”

I fumbled with my keys, cheeks burning. “I’m thinking about throwing all three of you out a window.”

But my body was thinking something very, very different.

And the worst part? They both knew it.

💋 Final Thought

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from today, it’s this:

Never go for a simple coffee with people who already know too much about your sex toy situation.

Because in my life, nothing is ever just coffee.

It’s coffee with commentary.

And apparently… group participation.

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