There I was, just a normal Tuesday afternoon — sipping cold brew, scrolling Instagram, and stalling on whatever task I was supposed to be doing.
And then I saw it — from one of those “funny meme” accounts designed to keep us from getting anything done. Above a video of a rather good-looking fellow holding a giant pumpkin (in an evergreen forest, no less) were the words: This is how pumpkin spice lattes are made. Thanks to autoplay, I was already hooked.
At first, I thought, Ha, clever. He appeared to be pretending to stick it in the pumpkin. But then he started shifting around, groaning, grimacing, and thrusting, and I kept watching — waiting for the grand finale. When the end came (pun intended), he broke apart the gourd. Wait… what?
So I re-watched. Then I realized I had completely misinterpreted the entire thing. He wasn’t porking the pumpkin at all — he was literally crushing it with his thighs. Ohhh. I sent the video to a few fellow PSL-loving friends and joked, Idk why this is so hot LOL.
READ: Your Fall Guide to All Things Pumpkin Spice in Jax
Then… I couldn’t stop thinking about the pumpkin porn. I found myself feeling some type of way. Don’t get me wrong — my sex life is solid, especially for a middle-aged mom of two. We’re busy, but we carve out time about once a week, usually a Thursday afternoon when the kids are at school and my husband’s working from home.
Real talk: But I’m not often just randomly in the mood. Hormones, anxiety meds, low libido — who knows. I absolutely enjoy it when we do, but I’m not 24 anymore, and y’know, kids.
Back to the video: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to “make a pumpkin spice latte” of my own. So, home alone, I went to the nightstand where we keep our, um, “coffee-making ingredients.” My magenta vibrator’s buzz was weak, so I replaced the old battery — probably older than my kids — and dang, it came back to life. I pictured my husband (not my new bearded friend, mind you), and… let’s just say I felt reinvigorated in more ways than one. At the risk of oversharing, I hadn’t done that to myself in years.
When my husband got home, I showed him the video and confessed. He laughed. I apologized. He laughed again. We both started cackling at the absurdity of it all — and all it took was a pumpkin.
The next day, I told a girlfriend. “Brings a whole new meaning to Smashing Pumpkins,” she joked. She also asked if I read spicy novels, like the ones about fairies — my answer? No fairies, and nothing spicy since the 50 Shades era of 2013.
I told another friend. That’s Thor, she said. He chops wood (I’ll bet he does), and he’s a lumberjack. He’s really hot. She sent me his Instagram account and joked that it would keep me busy. I also found the original video — and debated asking my husband to stop by the house at lunch.
For the record, I did not spend that afternoon perusing Thor’s account, because life. But shortly after, my husband actually came home early. Was he reading my mind? And then unexpectedly we… made pumpkin spice lattes. On a Wednesday. Twice.
And that’s when I realized something: Intimacy doesn’t have to be routine just because we’re married with kids. And it’s okay to care for ourselves, however that may look. Somehow, “Thor” and his gourd cracked something open in me — literally and figuratively. Turns out, sometimes all it takes is a pumpkin.
