Oh. Dear. Gawd. The inner voice is here to play. We haven’t really seen it to this extent until this chapter and, really, I wonder if she’s insane. It certainly isn’t the best internal conflict. The internal dialogue of italics doom just don’t work for me. Nor do the numerous ‘murmurs’. How the fuck do these people hear each other? Implants from a bat?
Another point at made me go …whaaat? Was the reference in calling Creepy Christian “Bluebeard”. Didn’t get the reference and had to look it up. Apparently it’s French folklore referencing a violent nobleman who murders his many wives. Wow. WTF?
Still not understanding the appeal she has for him considering all the dark thoughts she has about his mannerisms. Yet here we go again.
Fun Fact: I know someone who actually read this book but skipped all the sex parts. Yeah, wish I was lying. You can imagine what she thinks about what I write.
Anyone else want to cunt punch her inner goddess? Or Ana herself when she uses the word ‘there’ to describe her mud flaps? Is she too embarrassed of her hoohah to call it by its clinical name of vulva? Oh I know!
My inner goddess squeals as his tongue transcends the mons pubis to lick my clitoris. My vulva quivers. Did my inner goddess just do a front handspring stepout, roundoff back handspring stepout, roundoff back handspring, full twisting layout?
Through all that, I think some of us can attest that the first time you’ve fucked like bunnies it’s like heaven. The pheromones and dopamine flows intoxicating you. Yet when it’s gone, what do you have left? Congratulations, Ana. You’re about to enter into a relationship based solely on sexual pleasure. Christian’s your pimp except only his meat missile penetrates your many orifices. But wait a minute, baby, Mommy Dearest is at the door.
PS: I don’t consider banging from behind or stuffing fingers recently dipping into the vag pool into someone’s mouth vanilla sex. Missionary in and out without any oral is my definition. To each their own.