Bon Iver Erotic Stories

I’m working in the garden with a friend, our knees black...

Mon, 13 May 2013 14:12:33 -0600

I’m working in the garden with a friend, our knees black from the rich soil I’ve cultivated for years. Bon Iver keeps running down from the house to deliver strawberry lemonade, sunscreen, little picnicky snacks and compliments, and eventually I ask if he’d like to join us.

‘Thank you, but I have too many things to do,’ he says. ‘I need to bring you parasols and cakes, and sharpen your trowels, and I’m writing a new song to make the peas sweet and the sunflowers tall!’

Bon Iver is experimenting in the kitchen. ‘I want to make...

Thu, 09 May 2013 10:33:39 -0600

Bon Iver is experimenting in the kitchen. ‘I want to make you a meal that symbolizes our love!’ he shouts over the banging of the oven door and something that sounds like oil exploding. Eventually, I go out on the porch where I can’t hear it. The sun is warm and ants are doing something interesting, and eventually I fall asleep in the chair.

When he wakes me, he’s laid a blanket on the worn, bleached boards and the sun is sliding behind the Western hills. A cathedral’s worth of candles make a centerpiece.

He feeds me lamb and mushrooms, good dark bread with mustard, the first of the fennel sausage that’s been curing all winter, and vanilla ice cream poured with brandy. The cream drips on my chin and he leans forward to kiss it.

‘So explain,’ I say, with a smile, ‘how this dinner represents our love.’

He says, simply, ‘It’s everything I wanted today,’ and he wraps me in his sweater, seeing that my arms are raised with bumps; it’s become quite cool. The orange light from the candles and the vanishing sun fall upon his kind face.

If another man had said that to me, I might have laughed. But when Bon Iver speaks, he says exactly what he feels, and it pierces my heart like an arrow.

Bon Iver is photographing raindrops on flowers. “What kind...

Wed, 08 May 2013 16:04:14 -0600

Bon Iver is photographing raindrops on flowers.

“What kind is that?’ I ask, about an unfamiliar cluster of apricot-colored buds close to the ground, their leaves spattered with mud from the the morning’s downpour. He pokes it gently with a finger—it’s springy—and then squints into the sky.

He says, ‘It came here on an asteroid.’

Which is what he always says when he can’t identify a plant.

Bon Iver has been at the microbrewery tour all day. When...

Tue, 07 May 2013 10:55:00 -0600

Bon Iver has been at the microbrewery tour all day. When he’s dropped off by the neighbor back at home, he’s as red as a beet and laughing at the grass tickling his feet.

All he wants is a sandwich, his flannel nightie, and to tell me that I’m a treasure, at least a thousand times.

‘Let’s get away for a little while,’ he says,...

Wed, 01 May 2013 11:54:15 -0600

‘Let’s get away for a little while,’ he says, so we drink deeply, close our eyes, and imagine we’re on a pebbled beach, the sun washing our bodies, and the golden yellow glow is so real I feel it might blind me if I open my eyes.

‘What’s in this drink?’ I whisper.

Bon Iver is going around fixing things because another storm is...

Mon, 29 Apr 2013 17:16:18 -0600

Bon Iver is going around fixing things because another storm is coming and he wants to feel that he’s in control of something.

One wobbly table leg and a dripping faucet later, he has his nose to the window, monitoring the budding trees, the daffodils, and the blades of bright green grass that will soon be–in his mind–trapped unfairly beneath a blanket of snow.

‘The water is good for the mountains,’ I say, helpfully, but he truly feels that spring is playing an awful game with him, and he just sighs.

From the music room, I hear Bon Iver’s alarm go off. He...

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 11:52:49 -0600

From the music room, I hear Bon Iver’s alarm go off. He hurtles into the room where I am working.

‘What?’ I say, confused.

He kisses me soundly, pats me on the hip, and is gone.

An hour later, his alarm sounds again, and he comes running.

Bon Iver is piping rosettes onto a lavender chocolate cupcake...

Wed, 24 Apr 2013 10:30:06 -0600

Bon Iver is piping rosettes onto a lavender chocolate cupcake and humming a silly tune.

I tell him that I’ve been writing my little stories for a year now.

‘What little stories, baby?’ he asks.

Well, anyway. Happy birthday to us, and thank you.

Bon Iver stayed with a friend for a night to help him out with...

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 10:31:01 -0600

Bon Iver stayed with a friend for a night to help him out with some trouble. I took the time to tidy Bon Iver’s drawers and left a sweet-smelling bar of lemon soap in with his shirts.

That night, I played records loud and drank a bottle of wine, just because I could; I popped corn and ate it in bed, my head swimming between the pages of a delicious historical fiction.

At midnight I woke to a sound, and felt popcorn on the pillow, I sat up straight and listened…

…but it was just Bon Iver, who’d driven 40 miles at night because he didn’t want to sleep without me. He curled into his spot between me and the cat, he pressed his nose into my neck and sweetly cursed me for being so comforting and warm.

Bon Iver will always rush to help. He’ll pull over to...

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 10:58:00 -0600

Bon Iver will always rush to help. He’ll pull over to change a stranger’s tire, he’ll bring coffee and an extra pair of hands when the neighbor’s fence is down. I commented upon this once.

‘I just assume anyone would do the same,’ he said, surprised. ‘Look around you––our world is filled with good people.’

I look through his eyes, and yes: the world is filled with good people who would do anything to help.

‘Spring is a wicked temptress!’ he shouts, shaking...

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 12:58:50 -0600

‘Spring is a wicked temptress!’ he shouts, shaking his tambourine at the snow.

‘Why are you asleep, Bon Iver?’ I ask, peering...

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 14:46:46 -0600

‘Why are you asleep, Bon Iver?’ I ask, peering through the drawn curtains. Outside, it’s his favorite kind of day: blindingly bright and dripping with melted snow.

‘I’m just resting,’ he says, clearing his throat. ‘I’m fixing to be up late, since Lily’s having her foal tonight.’

No one can predict that, I think, but I bring the heat lamps into the barn and freshen up the straw. And sure enough, by dawn Bon Iver is sitting on a bucket, sipping coffee from a thermos and watching as Lily licks her baby’s ears clean.

A late spring snowstorm is a joy and a burden; Bon Iver happily...

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 11:52:54 -0600

A late spring snowstorm is a joy and a burden; Bon Iver happily munches a mouthful of flakes from the porch railing, but he fusses over the pussy willow buds and clicks his tongue at the crocuses bending beneath the weight of last night’s drifts.

He says, ‘I can feel their pain and confusion,’ and I see that it’s true, for Bon Iver is a tight little bud longing to grow in the sunshine.

‘I wish I could record your little song,’ Bon Iver...

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 15:39:46 -0600

‘I wish I could record your little song,’ Bon Iver says.

‘Me!’ I croak, putting a hand to my throat. Because singing is not my thing, it’s Bon Iver’s; his voice can fly above the lodge pole pines while mine wears boots of lead.

He says, ‘I heard you this morning in the chicken shed.’

‘Chickadee, chickadee,’ I call, as I do each morning while I gently nudge the hens aside, looking for their warm eggs. And he leaps up, shouting, ‘That’s it!’ and hustles me into the studio, where he bribes me with kisses to call invisible chickens for half an hour while downstairs my steel cut oats boil over.

Bon Iver leans in to kiss me, but before he reaches my lips, he...

Thu, 04 Apr 2013 10:27:06 -0600

Bon Iver leans in to kiss me, but before he reaches my lips, he spins away and sneezes: one, two, three times.

‘Baby,’ he chokes as tears shine on his cheeks, ‘I smelled all the flowers by the side of the road to find you the sweetest one.’

And from behind his back he hands me a little yellow bloom, its petals bent and stem twisted. I see that he does indeed have a sprinkling of yellow pollen upon his nose.

I put the flower in a teacup and admire it from afar.

Let’s get lost in the woods! he says. So we pack up some...

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 09:21:24 -0600

Let’s get lost in the woods! he says.
So we pack up some chicken and try.

And we trek through the groves of aspens and thorns and the sun streams down and a magpie caws and we climb a hill and a deer runs off and we share our snack and we kiss for awhile and he braids my hair and we spin around…

and we’re still not lost so we run down the hill and we laugh and we laugh and we laugh and we laugh and suddenly, he cries.

What’s wrong, my love? I ask,
and I touch him all over to find out why.

And he says, it was a fun idea,
but I’ll never be lost when it’s just you and I.

Bon Iver is eating a muffin in the field. He’s sitting...

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 12:00:40 -0600

Bon Iver is eating a muffin in the field. He’s sitting among the lambs who are newly born, flipping their long tails around and leaping with joy at being alive. A mother sheep lazily slurps a little black lamb’s haunch, then moves to Bon Iver, licking his flannel and then his beard and sideburns. He tries to remain motionless, but I can see that he is giggling.

‘I’m one of you now,’ he tells a lamb excitedly, and it kicks him and runs away.

HACKED! Sincerest apologies to all our fans, but it appears...

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 10:54:24 -0600

HACKED!

Sincerest apologies to all our fans, but it appears boniverotica has been hacked (see below). We are currently working to fix the problem.

- boniverotica

Hey Girl, I hear you dig musicians with facial hair and...

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 10:52:48 -0600

Hey Girl,

I hear you dig musicians with facial hair and feelings. Let me upgrade you.

- RG

Spring!!!We celebrate with lavender cake and and kissing on the...

Wed, 20 Mar 2013 13:50:09 -0600

Spring!!!

We celebrate with lavender cake and and kissing on the lawn and limeade!

‘Without you,’ says Bon Iver, ‘Spring would just be winter.’