One who is kinky, unlike vanilla who are scared of any non-vanilla activities.
Now isn’t Non-vanilla just the perfect word. I personally feel like a bowl of Ben & Jerry’s Late Night ice cream (there is something inherently kinky about potato chips in ice cream. Something most people would never try, but so, so, very good.) trapped in a world of vanilla.
Now there is nothing wrong with vanilla. Vanilla is comforting, familiar, secure, enjoyable. It smells heavenly and gives you a sense of well-being. But it sure doesn’t make your heart race or heighten your sensations or make your whole body tingle.
I love the excitement of Non-vanilla–never knowing if you are going to taste the salty potato chip, the caramel, the chocolate, the ice cream, or some mixture of the ingredients. The variety only adds to the enjoyment until it feels like an explosion of pleasure has taken place in your mouth. No one says that about vanilla!
And I am not much more interested in a vanilla existence, or vanilla sex, than I am a bowl of vanilla ice cream. I am interested in a decidedly Non-vanilla life, one that explores a woman existing as the Other. Not the wife, not the whore, but something entirely unexpected. I think it is time to re-read Anais Nin and Kate Chopin.
PS: I’d put the morning line at 2/1 that O is for Orgasm. But you never know, something else might just catch my eye!