“I thought such things only existed in novels.”
“This is something I really wanted to tell you, but the size of a man’s penis isn’t what matters, you know? It’s more about how compatible it is with you.”
Vivian’s eyes sparkled with an expression of great interest. What’s the chance that a married couple, no, even a sexually active couple, would be sexually compatible? Genitals that fit perfectly together.
As he saw how her attitude changed from when they had talked about dating, Thatcher teased her. “What a surprise. To discuss such matters with me and all.”
“It’s because you always try to instigate a fight with me even though I’m interested, by saying that I don’t have a man.” It was clear that he’d make fun of her by asking what the purpose of knowing was.
“How obscene. Truly, I say, our author loves conversations like this one.”
“Be it females or males, all humans are dormant perverts. If you just polish them, they could all become slaves to pleasure!”
“Vivian, what kind of nonsense are you spouting so confidently now?”
“It was always like that in novels.”
“I told you it doesn’t help to read erotic novels of that kind.” Thatcher was certain without doubt that she read a novel about someone who was raised into a sexual slave or something of the kind. Even though he’d nagged her to be more careful of the books she read because it impacted her writing.
“Are you running away because you’re tired of men?”
“I’m sure one day, I’ll find a man who’ll be able to accept all of me, you know?”
“And what of the man you’re dating now.”
At his words, Vivian thought of Aidan. Since he knew she was the erotic novelist, Perdie, it was likely that he would accept her as she was. However, even if they were lovers, it was only to the point of a contract, and it was unknown if he’d look at her as a woman one day.
“It’s not a serious relationship.” She had been honest and revealed that she wrote erotic novels and she met him for her novels. Not to mention, she’d asked how big his thing was. Vivian slowly replayed all of her words in her mind.
“Hm, no. Undo. I’m sure there isn’t a man in this world who could accept me for who I am.”
I’ll just live alone. As she thought that she punched in Thatcher’s direction, who said with a smirk saying, “As I said, right?”.
“Someone who’d accept all of me? I’m sure it’d be as just hard as finding a man who’s sexually compatible with me.”
Vivian gazed at the cheeky Thatcher and counterattacked as she asked whether he wasn’t so passionate about sexual compatibility because his genitals were tiny. He, who’s manly pride had suddenly been attacked, yelled in sorrowful anger. “Ha, is there any way it’s small? It’s very healthy and large! And it’s not the size that’s important, but the shape! Mine’s curved upwards, so all the women are l……..”
“Go throw away information that I don’t want to know.” (T/N: I know, right? That was totally a TMI. :rolleyes: || E/N: looks at information with :sideeye:)
Thatcher agitatedly asked if she would believe him if she saw it with her own eyes, and only grew silent after he was hit over the head by Vivian.
After that, their erotic conversation, under the mask of ordinary dating advice, continued.
***
Even if she didn’t experience it, she could still write it into words. That was what Vivian had done up till now. To create something from nothing. However, as she wrote from experience as natural as the flow of water, she could write with an uninterested but detailed command over the language.
She didn’t want to agree, but with just a single kiss. she was able to feel the difference between her writing and reality and it was now even hard to deny it.
She learned what parts of her body tensed, how her toes tingled, how it wasn’t an exchange of mere words, and how sensitive her scalp was as she pulled on it in pleasure.
Vivian began to write a diary of that rapturous ecstasy and the result was aboundingly different. Just as imagining it was different from seeing it, seeing it was different from doing it. As a result, Vivian could certainly pride herself that she made the correct decision.
Comments