Vanilla Mona

“Did you see that shit out there?”

“Good morning.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Seriously. Did you see that shit?”

“I’m fine Mike. No, we just stayed in and watched television. Thanks for asking.”

“Mona. I’m glad your life has become a routine of television and vanilla sex. I’m happy to see domestic bliss is upon you. Did you see that shit out there?”

“Mean ass. Though you’re right. It has gotten a little…”

“Fucking boring.”

“Predictable. Ass. Damn. It has gotten boring. She started to go down on me the other night and all I wanted was to read another chapter in my book.”

“Wow. Really?”

“God. Yes. Shit.”

“You guys were rubbing clams like it was nobodies business before the vacation.”

“Gross. Accurate. But still. What happened?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. There is a huge protest going on out there.”

“Not that. What happened with Trudy and I?”

“It’s what happens after a while. You’re done exploring each other, you’ve done everything. Found a routine of what works and what doesn’t. Not you don’t disturb the statue quo. The comfort level exceeded the freshness level.”

“For a perpetually single guy you sure do have good insights.”

“I wasn’t always single.”

“But what was your longest relationship?”

“Six years.”

“Really? Damn. I figured six months.”

“Ellie lasted longer than that.”

“Yeah but she cheated how many times?”

“Four and a half.”

“And a half.”

“Yes. She never fucked him, it was more emotional cheating.”

“And that’s a half?”

“Sure. No physical contact, half point deduction.”


“Not really. That was the worst one of them all. It’s one thing to stray for a half an hour. It’s another to foster something real.”

“I bet. How long were you two together?”

“Two years, roughly.”

“Roughly indeed.”

“Yeah. God I’m lonely.”

“You can come hang out with us. Were clearly not doing anything.”

“Only if Trudy cooks.”


“You are shit in the kitchen.”


“I offered to teach you.”

“And become another one of your head in the oven lovers? Nope.”

“Two times that happens and you are forever labeled.”

“Two times? I only knew of the once.”

“Same instructor. A second time. She had a thing going on and I don’t judge anyone’s kink.”

“Because you like watersports.”

“Because I excel at watersports. Been known to gargle the star spangled banner.”

“Fucking gross.”

“You know that really isn’t my thing, right? It was just a joke.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. Apparently I’m in a vanilla sex routine.”

“Only if you choose to be.”


“Stop by the store and get a toy, or silk scarves.”

“And dance?”

“No. Tie her to the bedposts. Get a bowl of ice. Maybe a blindfold.”


“I’d let you borrow mine, but…”


“Or just be unexpected. As she cooks come up behind her and slip a hand into her panties. Make her cum while kissing her neck. Or when you’re at the store wait until you’re alone in an aisle and kiss her like you’re starving and she’s the only sustenance you need.”

“Did you do these things?”

“Yep. All the time.”

“And you’re single?”

“Even unexpected things can become routine I guess. I don’t know what I ever did besides be me. I loved them, treated them good, made them my everything. And still they left.”

“Seems shitty.”

“It’s why they always came back.”

“That’s even shittier.”

“I know. It’s why I usually never let them.”

“Except Ellie.”

“Except Ellie.”

“That ass had you hypnotized.”

“Yes it did.”

“I’m going to try it.”

“Ellie’s ass?”

“No. To add some spice.”

“It’ll work. I always liked starting with a foot massage and working my way up their legs. By the time you hit inner thigh they’re usually soaked.”

“I feel like I should take notes.”

“This is your longest relationship. The first one is the easiest to fall into routines. You don’t know to savor what you’ve got after long enough. After that it is just a joy to make it to peeing with the door open.”

“You pee with the door open when you’re at my place.”

“It isn’t like either of you want what’s being used.”



“But it is true.”

“Yeah, but so dismissive.”

“I’m sorry. Damn Mike, give me that cock.”


“Well, don’t be such a bitch.”


“Should be.”

“So Trudy is cooking, when should I come over?”


“Now you want to try and spice it up and old Mike with the helpful advice is out on the street.”



“Knew you’d understand.”

“I do.”

“Now what was that about a protest outside?”

“Meh. Not important. Just some men protesting about male rights.”


“Yeah. I helped.”


“I had a couple boxes of those nasty stink bombs in my car.”

“The same type that keeps getting unleashed on accounting?”

“I would have no idea about that.”

“It was you this whole time?”


“And you kept it from me?”

“Kept what from you?”

“To protect me?”

“If I did do something…”

“Which you clearly didn’t.”

“Exactly. But if I did I wouldn’t want you to get caught up in it as well.”

“Six months it’s been happening and I just assumed if it was you…”

“Which it wasn’t.”

“…that you would have told me.”

“Anyway. I sad them marching down the street in front of the building and poured them all over the street and sidewalk.”

“How many?”

“Oh it was a pretty big crowd.”

“Not them, how many stink bombs?”

“Four hundred.”

“How many to clear out accounting?”


“Oh shit.”

“Let’s go look out the window and see if they’re puking yet!”

“You’re the best.”


“Meh indeed. Thanks Mikey.”

“For what?”


“Anything for you Mona. You know that.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. Now let’s watch some pigs puke.”


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