Bon Iver: The Five Least Sexy Erotica Stories About Bearded Indie Dude Justin Vernon

Just because you're ovulating, that's no reason to miss next week's Bon Iver concert at the Fillmore Miami Beach.

Ever since the creation of the Bon Iver Erotic Stories Tumblr, it has become impossible to separate the band's sleepy-eyed singer from the sexy, sexy tales that have been written about him.

But as strange as this phenomenon might sound, it sorta makes sense. After all, Justin Vernon is a multiple Grammy winner with a dusky falsetto and a bedroom-ready bod thanks to a new workout regimen. He's basically D'Angelo in a flannel shirt.

But not everyone is ready to be a mother. And if you're not careful, Vernon will pluck your fallopian tubes like the strings of a pawnshop guitar and process the pre-natal ultrasound through Auto-Tune for his 18th side project this year.

If you get your head right, however, you will realize that a night with Mr. Justin Vernon isn't quite as romantic as it initially seems. As proof, here are the five least sexy erotic stories about Bon Iver's singer.

Bon Iver: The Five Least Sexy Erotica Stories About Bearded Indie Dude Justin Vernon

5. Cider and Donuts

Bon Iver took me to the cider mill today. We sat on the cold hard ground in the orchard and drank fresh cider from a rusted metal Thermos. The paper bag full of donuts we bought was half-transparent from grease. He pulled a donut from the bag and fed it to me in small bites, his fingers covered in cinnamon sugar. We made love under the trees, the rough granules of sugar melting with our heat.

Justin Vernon's band travels with gym equipment and considers its health to be a top priority. And yet he's going to feed you a bag of donuts? It may not be full-blown Münchausen by proxy. But at the very least, it's munchies by proxy. Check his rucksack for any life insurance policies he may have taken out on you.

Bon Iver: The Five Least Sexy Erotica Stories About Bearded Indie Dude Justin Vernon

4. Sucking Freckles in Bed

Each freckle has a nickname. Each kiss is the best one. Every interaction is significant: passionate or humorous or sweet. Our senses are alert, memorizing everything, because we know that we must leave this place eventually, and we know that the remembrance of our time here will consume us for hours and days.

I'm in bed with Bon Iver.

Seriously, skin cancer ain't nothing to fuck with. This Bon Iver is a real sicko. Don't be surprised if you come back early from the doing the wash in the stream, only to find him pouring asbestos into your humidifier.

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