How is it that when you’re a kinky person, vanilla sex becomes somehow… interesting? Interesting like a quirky but oddly intriguing poem that you just can’t help but sit back and ponder.
And oddly, it wasn’t even sex. Sunday M stayed naked for most of the day, I think mostly because she was feeling too lazy to even put clothes on after her shower. Later in the evening, we were both laying on the bed – she just cuddling, me reading – when I couldn’t help but take advantage of her nudity. I started playing with her clit while I was reading. After a while she got huffy because I wasn’t paying full attention to her, even though I thought it was kinda fun to multitask like that, so I put the book aside and focused on her clit. Fingers first, delving into a little experimentation with a vibrating back massager, and when that turned out not to work do well, our actual vibrator.
And.. well, aside from the fact that we’re two chicks, and she’s genderqueer, it was completely vanilla. Hardly any sadism on my part, hardly any teasing, and I didn’t even make her ask to come – and instinctively, she knew that.
Going back to vanilla sex kind of felt like finding that soft, tattered baby blanket in a box in the closet. The cherished roots, beginnings, nostalgia, old memories.
Next time I think I’m going to tie her up and beat the hell out of her. And make her hold the vibrator in her pussy while I’m doing it. :-D
God how I want a strap-on. Or at least a second vibrator.