“Erotic Fiction is Ruining My Sex Life!” 

Ivy’s backarched. When she looked up,he knew what she wanted, Sthough she hadn’t said a word...

Sighing, I close my eyes and enjoy the moment. Casting me as ‘Ivy’ and my partner as stone-cold fox ‘Vasic’, it’s like I’m actually experiencing their tempestuous, virgin love affair.

Gripping her jaw with his gauntleted hand, he kissed her the same time that he reinitiated the pressure against her clitoris. Crying out into the kiss only seconds later, Ivy melted all over his palm, her hands gripping at his upper arms.

‘Whatcha doing, baby?’ I hear my boyfriend ask.

‘Oh, you know...reading.’
‘Good book?’
‘You have no idea...’
And it’s true, he doesn’t. Because, much as I enjoy these fantasies born of binge-read erotic fiction, I don’t invite him to share. So why, then, am I disappointed when he doesn’t ‘grip my jaw with his gauntleted hand’? Why do I feel like a failure when his kisses don’t make me ‘melt all over his palm’ after 10 seconds of hand- to-vulva contact?

The reality is, while a hot kiss may have gotten me nice and tropical in the early days, we’re a few years in now. It takes a lot more to get me ‘hot and silky’. Now my sex life is far from monotonous. We have many toys. We’ve got outfits, we’ve got restraints. Nothing’s off limits.
We keep a sex tally to record our frequency, for God’s sake! Sex is so much a part of our daily lives that sometimes we just do it automatically. And maybe this is the problem...

‘Wanna have sex?’
‘Hells yeah I do!’
‘Get the lube out, baby!’
I miss the anticipation of knowing someone wants you so bad, that it’s driving them to distraction. The slow- burning sexual tension that’s the very foundation of erotic fiction. I miss the days when all it took to ruin a pair of underwear was a naughty text!

Her response ignited unadulterated possessiveness in him, making him want to devour and cherish in equal measures. Now he knew it was about giving her what she needed, showing her what she was to him: everything.

God, how I want to be devoured and cherished in equal measures.
I want to be shown I’m so sexy, my boyfriend can’t keep his hands off me.

Sometimes it’s all I think about  when he goes down on me: how it wasn’t spontaneous; how it’s been 10 minutes and I’m still not feelin‘ it; how it’s not a humanoid werewolf ‘growling against my silky folds’.

But then I remember I’ve got a man with his face between my legs, trying his best to please me and I’m not even paying attention. And how disrespectful is that? Ivy’s got the obsessive Vasic thinking she’s his everything, but I’ve got a healthy, adult relationship of equal partners enjoying their own interests and hobbies, coming together to share their lives and bodies without being co-dependent. I’ll take that over unbridled obsession any day!

Sure, my man can’t read my mind when I think I might want a circular licking pattern instead of side-to- side. But he certainly does listen when I voice it.

We talk about sex every single day, and yet, I haven’t confided that sometimes I wish he was a alpha-werewolf with dominance issues. I don’t even know why.
But holding back, I’m not only doing me a disservice, I’m also not giving him a chance to satisfy me. Maybe tonight, I’ll ask him to scratch my back and call me ‘kitten’. And for the good of my sex life, I think I’ll cut back on the books. I hear there’s some great porn out there...

*NAME HAS BEEN CHANGED. FROM SHIELD OF WINTER, PART OF THE PSY/CHANGELING SERIES BY NALINI SINGH

 

This article was published in April 2017 issue of Cosmopolitan India