Vanilla.

The street light streamed in through her shutters, other than that the room was devoid of any light source. She preferred it that way as the two things that petrified her enough to evoke hyper-ventilation were deep water, and pitch black. As far as these things went she never really had any cause to go looking for water deep enough to immerse herself so completely, and because she originated from the town, she never had any experience of living without light pollution.

Another reason she liked to see beyond the windows at night was to gaze at the night sky. Stars held a magical quality for her. As timeless as the seasons, they were part of the very fabric of the world at its most basic level.
It was Vincent Van Gogh who said:

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”

She related to that in its entirety, a little like staring out to sea, noises and distractions fell away until all that was left was her soul itself.

That was happening now, her head on the pillow, her eyes fixed on the stars visible between the shutter slats. Memories began to fill her thoughts. Always the same, like a carnal desire being pulled from the depths of her being.

Like a replayed movie in her brain, she could repeat everything or skip to the unabridged version that she considered highlights. Better still though; because it was relative real-time, she could still feel his mouth on her nipple. The way in which he caressed her………a near perfect balance of pleasure and pain. Past boyfriends had experimented with these themes, yet none had ever gotten the balance right and because of that, confused as to what the appeal was, she had long since dismissed this activity as something ‘not for her’.

It can be a dangerous thing to pull on a loose yarn; the harder you pull the more the sweater unravels….As she thought back to how he had made her feel: empowered, desired, hungry, sexual these thoughts evoked further memories and the movie replayed more.

There was something ultimately frantic about their liaisons because that was precisely what they were….opportune moments in which to engage self on a purely carnal level. Both knew the others desires, not through years of gathering data piece by piece, but through blunt concise messages and online conversations where the truth is not hindered by embarrassment or body language, it delivers a stark reality in a black and white Ariel typeface. From there, experiences are shared, fantasies are divulged and together they wind around the minds of the pair culminating in a strong physical desire for each other, the purest form of lust.

His words resonated through her mind “You make me insane when I am around you” this totally floored yet fascinated her because as much as sex was a virtual primary talking point, to her mind it was not something they easily spoke about in person. She felt clumsy and awkward trying to find an appropriate time, most of the time was inappropriate or when she had wanted to initiate touch, he seemed to rebuke her actions preferring to talk about lighter subjects and shared hobbies. There was never anything, as far as she could see, particularly longing or wanting about these moments. Maybe this was why it always seemed more opportune at the end of the day, at the end of their time together, when the light had faded and the bright young things came out to play. When words ceased and actions began he always maintained that within his mind she was a whisker away from his dominance.

Her inner self wanted to know more. For the first time in her life she was not on an equal or dominant footing. She hated to admit it but she was more submissive to him than with any other boyfriend. He was stronger in physical strength but also in character. He promised her he would push her boundaries, test her, and take her to her limits….it was like some dream sequence or role reversal, was she more Vanilla than him?