Telling Stories

“I just wish I could be vanilla,” I choked out while staring at the pillow.

He brushed my hair from my face and reminded me, “You get off when we have vanilla sex all the time.”

“Babe,” I said quietly, “you don’t understand.  Do you ever picture things when you are fucking me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I tell myself stories.  The more vanilla we are being, the more I have to focus on the stories, and it’s hard work.  I want to focus on you, but then I can’t get off.”

“Oh,” he responded with a look I couldn’t place.

 

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