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Sunday, December 28, 2014

Cerulean Sins Chapter Twelve

Strap in for some more joyless, mechanical dry humping because this shit is about to go down.

Asher is "like a reluctant child." 

All of sudden Asher believes Anita truly wants him, despite her giving him the mother of all mixed signals the chapter before. It's like she can't admit that she wants to have sex with him, so she has to couch it in this bullshit political vampire nonsense. Just once, I want to see Anita enthusiastically consent to sex. Just once. I don't think that's ever happened. Anita's life makes me so sad. Supposedly she's this untouchable badass, but she's really just emotionally disabled to the point where nothing she does has any real meaning.

They natter on about how the ardeur might rise, and how it's close to dawn, and how J.C. has this masculine chuckle that only men do about sex.

Anita realizes she's the only girl. It took her this long to figure this out. I don't even know. When men are interested in you, by the way, it's like "lions watching gazelles." 

Asher is afraid. Great. So we have a bed full of people who don't want to do this. Again. This is also going to be yet another scene where Anita tries to have sex and instead releases all the crazy animals and hungers and vampires and god knows what else are currently using her body as a skin suit.

Asher is afraid and doesn't want to do this so J.C. soothes him "almost like a baby." 

Anita strips down to her underwear and high heels. Okay, that's fairly sexy. I'll give her that one. Tame, sure. But at least it's not vomit inducing like most of these scenes are.

The funny thing is, I want to be in to this. The only thing I like writing and reading more than action is sex. I'm begging LKH to seduce me as a reader and frankly, it's not that difficult.

 Yet I feel nothing when these things happen to Anita. They always leave me cold because there's not a drop of true passion or love.

There's, stuff about where everyone's legs are. I have given up on trying to picture this, not that I was inclined to do so in the first place.

"She begins like an American man, but she does foreplay like she is French."

What? Does that mean she likes to cover people in wing sauce before getting down to business? Does she have to pour a PBR over Asher's naked body before she can find him sexually attractive? Maybe she can only fuck in a jacked up Ford truck. What does French foreplay look like, by the way? Do they have to argue over whether French beef is of high quality first? Whether the French Revolution was justified? What Marie Antoinette's wig was made of?

Also when has Anita ever engaged in anything approaching foreplay? She's sure rushing this, ignoring Asher's reluctance because she doesn't have time for that shit.

Anita is a saint because she can look past Asher's scars, you guys.

She's tickling Asher's neck and that's supposed to be sexy. She gives him "that safe edge of teeth." I don't know what that means but apparently Asher is wild for it.

Anita licks Asher a bunch.

I think it's that I don't find "licked" to be an especially sexy word, but I'll give her a pass because we all know how goddamn impossible it is to find words that everyone agrees are hot.

Asher tells J.C. he has taught Anita well. Anita tells him that's sexist. Okay. I don't think you get to make that call, Anita.

Anita is afraid to unzip Asher's pans because she's worried about getting his dick caught in the zipper.

Somehow Asher's hands "spill."

Turns out Asher's dick is scar free and works now, and this is momentous that him and J.C. laugh and cry and hug and there's rainbows and fireworks.

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