Well, it was inevitable. Someone went and created a Tumblr devoted to Bon Iver erotica. I mean, who couldn’t see that coming (pun intended)?
Here’s my own submission…
When I woke up I my senses were immediately overcome by the delightful smell of artisanal bacon wafting throughout the log cabin. So I threw on the overalls that he’d left on the floor the night before and I made my way down the stairs.
“Would you prefer I use organic 1% or soy milk to make your pecan pancakes with?” he asked as I entered the kitchen. After a night of lovemaking, the dude who sings “Skinny Love” was cooking me breakfast.
I decided to compensate him for his efforts.
He did not flinch or turn his attention away from stone-grinding our grits by hand as I took his member into my mouth. I worked him pretty good in an attempt to get even the slightest reaction out of him, but he was unflappable in his breakfast making. Finally, when he reached climax and coated by tonsils with his hickory-flavored baby batter, he closed his eyes and belted out one of his patented falsetto notes.
Finally, I knew exactly how my mother must have felt when she got fingered by Steve Winwood in Portland in 1973.