âI thought such things only existed in novels.â
âThis is something I really wanted to tell you, but the size of a manâs penis isnât what matters, you know? Itâs more about how compatible it is with you.â
Vivianâs eyes sparkled with an expression of great interest. Whatâs the chance that a married couple, no, even a sexually active couple, would be sexually compatible? Genitals that fit perfectly together.
As he saw how her attitude changed from when they had talked about dating, Thatcher teased her. âWhat a surprise. To discuss such matters with me and all.â
âItâs because you always try to instigate a fight with me even though Iâm interested, by saying that I donât have a man.â It was clear that heâd make fun of her by asking what the purpose of knowing was.
âHow obscene. Truly, I say, our author loves conversations like this one.â
âBe it females or males, all humans are dormant perverts. If you just polish them, they could all become slaves to pleasure!â
âVivian, what kind of nonsense are you spouting so confidently now?â
âIt was always like that in novels.â
âI told you it doesnât help to read erotic novels of that kind.â Thatcher was certain without doubt that she read a novel about someone who was raised into a sexual slave or something of the kind. Even though heâd nagged her to be more careful of the books she read because it impacted her writing.
âAre you running away because youâre tired of men?â
âIâm sure one day, Iâll find a man whoâll be able to accept all of me, you know?â
âAnd what of the man youâre dating now.â
At his words, Vivian thought of Aidan. Since he knew she was the erotic novelist, Perdie, it was likely that he would accept her as she was. However, even if they were lovers, it was only to the point of a contract, and it was unknown if heâd look at her as a woman one day.
âItâs not a serious relationship.â She had been honest and revealed that she wrote erotic novels and she met him for her novels. Not to mention, sheâd asked how big his thing was. Vivian slowly replayed all of her words in her mind.
âHm, no. Undo. Iâm sure there isnât a man in this world who could accept me for who I am.â
Iâll just live alone. As she thought that she punched in Thatcherâs direction, who said with a smirk saying, âAs I said, right?â.
âSomeone whoâd accept all of me? Iâm sure itâd be as just hard as finding a man whoâs sexually compatible with me.â
Vivian gazed at the cheeky Thatcher and counterattacked as she asked whether he wasnât so passionate about sexual compatibility because his genitals were tiny. He, whoâs manly pride had suddenly been attacked, yelled in sorrowful anger. âHa, is there any way itâs small? Itâs very healthy and large! And itâs not the size thatâs important, but the shape! Mineâs curved upwards, so all the women are lâ¦â¦..â
âGo throw away information that I donât want to know.â (T/N: I know, right? That was totally a TMI. :rolleyes: || E/N: looks at information with :sideeye:)
Thatcher agitatedly asked if she would believe him if she saw it with her own eyes, and only grew silent after he was hit over the head by Vivian.
After that, their erotic conversation, under the mask of ordinary dating advice, continued.
***
Even if she didnât experience it, she could still write it into words. That was what Vivian had done up till now. To create something from nothing. However, as she wrote from experience as natural as the flow of water, she could write with an uninterested but detailed command over the language.
She didnât want to agree, but with just a single kiss. she was able to feel the difference between her writing and reality and it was now even hard to deny it.
She learned what parts of her body tensed, how her toes tingled, how it wasnât an exchange of mere words, and how sensitive her scalp was as she pulled on it in pleasure.
Vivian began to write a diary of that rapturous ecstasy and the result was aboundingly different. Just as imagining it was different from seeing it, seeing it was different from doing it. As a result, Vivian could certainly pride herself that she made the correct decision.