No one wants to think kids when they’re talking sex and erotic stories. Okay, sane people with their minds screwed on straight don’t want to think this. And, yes I’m totally grossing myself out.
A big part of who Bonnie and Boris are revolves around their kids and family. The whole concept of their – Bonnie and Boris that is – bedtime stories is to show their love for each other and the love – sexual love – shared with their friends. To do this they needed to let us – their children – know “hey, mom and dad had great sex lives!” Right, that just grossed me out again.
Why when I start writing about this do I immediately revert back to my teen self? Here and now I’m a grown-ass woman who has had sex, maybe not as adventurous as mom and dad, but… Okay, back to the subject at hand.
Talking about your parents having sex is ick. Reading about their experiences – well, yeah – double ick (see back to my teen reaction).
But knowing my parents treasured each other. Were treasured by others and loved (okay, triple ick, those others were friends like family).
I’m so messing this up.
WHO: I’m Cinder Schitz, the oldest daughter of Bonnie and Boris. My sisters are Lucy and Kate.
We never had any idea our parents were so – active. We knew they loved each other and loved us. We knew – know – Cassie, Patrice, and Peter. Heck, Cassie took us girls to our first male strip show. Patrice made sure we learned self-defence and each year gifted us our martial arts lessons. Peter taught us how to drive after the daughter-dad tries didn’t work out (dad thought defensive driving instead of just letting us learn how to drive first…defensive as in his business not every day driving).
Kate is Peter’s head chef. Hey – wait – no, don’t think I want to know what dinners Kate’s known about these last twenty years. Moving on.
Lucy became mom’s partner and eventually took over the PR firm. Patrice is one of her clients. That’s when we first learned of Patrice’s Silk and Satin Company.
Well, I think I’m the one who planted the idea behind mom and dad writhing their stories.
I’m an editor and kind of ranted one day about the difference between erotic and porn. To the point mentioning that even my innocent parents could write better erotica than what I had been editing.
Who knew they lived it and would take my rant as a dare?