Pedant time.

The Pedant crashed here the other night. This was a convenience thing: I live closer to his work than he does, and he had a late shift and an early shift in a row.

I had texted him to ask if he wanted to stay over on Friday night for fun (early shift that day for him, late shift the next day) but also said he was welcome to “stay over on Thursday unmolested.” He said yes to Thursday but didn’t mention the other part at all. Disappointing but oh well.

Unfortunately, by Thursday I was kinda dying to fuck him. But I didn’t want to make any moves because that was not the nature of our deal. I want him to feel safe here. Really, I figured even asking him “Hey, how ’bout a quickie?” would make him roll his eyes and feel like he can’t ever be here without me being all over him, or like I can’t ever have him over without having an ulterior motive, or something.

I sure was hoping he’d end up initiating something, though. And if he didn’t I figured I’d probably sleep on the couch because being in the same bed with him would make me insane.

He arrived at like 10:30 and let himself in with his keys. I was lying naked on the couch, both because I’m usually naked at home anyway and because I was sorta hoping to entice him. The Pedant did his usual thing of methodically undressing while chatting about his day. I didn’t feel any sexual tension radiating from him, but perhaps that’s only because I was watching him from a bit of a distance? But I know he’s somewhat able to turn it on and off and be “all business” when he needs to be, so…meh.

Once he’d gotten down to just his boxer briefs, he paused in the undressing process. For like, a really long time. And just chatted with me, standing there in my hallway. Possibly he’d gotten distracted by the talking and just forgotten to keep undressing for a bit, as he sometimes does. But I think it’s more likely he was planning to leave his underwear on as a clear boundary – a barrier to me touching him. He did need to get up for work in about seven hours, after all.

So okay, fair enough. I would refrain from sexual stuff. But damned if I would deny myself the comfort of being in his arms. I’d had a really rough week and his hugs are quite marvelous at melting away my stress.

I got up from the couch, then, and strode over and put my arms around him and kissed him hello on the cheek. Not in a particularly seductive way or anything. But he did the sharp-intake-of-breath thing that he always does these days when he knows we’re going to fuck. Like he’s so supercharged with sexual tension that the slightest touch melts him completely. It was that fast; my lips touched his cheek and I had him, just like that.

And it’s such a total, delicious power trip that I can do that to him that I can never resist taking it further. I kissed his cheek again, glided my lips down his skin and kissed his neck, caressed his back with my hands. And his arms went slack and he moaned and whimpered and the front of his boxers was tented out and he was just gloriously, beautifully helpless.

But I’d told him that he could stay here “unmolested” and as much as he seemed to be interested in sex at that moment, I kind of needed to hear him say it.I wanted his consent to be even more explicit. “Tell me what you want,” I murmured. I continued running my hands lightly over his back, his stomach, his arms. I would not touch his nipples or cock; that would be too definite a sexual overture. I would await permission for that. In the meantime, I simply petted the somewhat less erogenous areas of his body, and waited. But he didn’t say anything, either because he didn’t get what I was driving at or because I’d driven the capacity for English out of his head, or both.

“I promised you that I would let you sleep tonight. So if you want me to fuck you, you need to ask me,” I said, gliding my fingers over his shoulderblades.

He remained silent for a while, except for all the gasping and shuddering at my touch. Finally he put his lips to my ear and whispered “I want you to spread-eagle me on your bed and run me through your hands like you did last time.* And I want you to slip a toy inside me because I know how much you love to see that.**”

It occurred to me then, for the first time, that The Pedant has never (I’m pretty sure) used the word “fucking” in regards to us (“play” is the word he uses). Interesting. Usually I’m prissier about words, sexually, than my partners are. The word “pussy” makes me cringe. In the past, a partner referring to fucking me did, too, although at some point I got over that. I’ve never been the partner with the more offensive mouth before. I hope The Pedant isn’t put off by it.

We made out in my hallway for a while longer and then I backed him into the bedroom and closed the door and we kept going. I allowed myself to touch him everywhere now, having gotten permission to do sexual things to him, and the way I fingered his nipples was making him swoon so hard that he reached out blindly and gripped the edge of one of my dressers for support. I pulled his boxers down and let them fall to his ankles. I stroked his pretty, pretty cock and caught his moans with my mouth.

And then I circled behind him, holding his shoulder in my hand to indicate that he was to stay where he was. I sat on the edge of the bed so I could get a front-row view of his beautiful round ass. I cupped it, ran my hands over it…ran my finger lightly up the centre cleft, making him swoon again and lean forward to grasp the edge of my taller dresser with both hands. He gave a tiny little gasp of anticipation when he heard me open the drawer of the nightstand. I retrieved a glove, lube, and my stainless steel plug. I tapped one of his ankles and he stepped that foot out of his boxers that had been shackling his ankles together. I kicked his legs further apart and he gasped.

My intention was to put a finger or two inside him for a few minutes to open him up enough for the plug, but his sounds were so intriguingly strong that I ended up giving him possibly the longest prostate massage I’ve ever given anyone. At times he seemed very much like he was about to come – whimpering urgently and clamping down hard on my finger – and I just had to see if he would. Making a guy come that way has been a fantasy of mine for such a long time. I must have spent at least fifteen minutes just moving my finger in different ways while my free hand tickled the backs of his knees (an erogenous zone of his I’ve discovered relatively recently) or reached around to lightly fondle his nipples or cock. I brought him to the edge of coming (if that’s what it was) three or four times via prostate stimulation alone (I always took my other hand off his cock when his sounds began to peak; if he was going to come I wanted it to be unequivocally from my internal ministrations), and then I decided it probably wasn’t going to happen and I progressed to lubing up the steel plug and sliding it inside him.

Hilariously, a minute later when I turned him around with the intention of having him lie on the bed, the plug thumped to the floor. “Too much lube, maybe?” The Pedant said.

“Maybe. Would you like me to wash it off and try again, or do you want me to move on to other activities?”

“I’d like you to wash it off and try again,” The Pedant said, his voice all dazed and breathy. “I know how much you love to see me with a toy inside me.”

I went and washed the floor-grit etc. off the plug and when I got back into the bedroom The Pedant was waiting on the bed on his hands and knees, presenting his ass to me. He seems somewhat preoccupied with me doing ass stuff to him from behind. I’ve done ass stuff to him face-to-face tons of times so I know he knows it’s not mandatory that I be behind him. I’m super curious what his preoccupation is. Does he fetishize the position itself for whatever reason? Or maybe he still feels conflicted about how much he loves being penetrated and he prefers that I can’t see his face? Maybe the angle is just easier? I don’t know, and if he is conflicted then I maybe don’t wanna stir that all up by asking him.

My preference is generally face-to-face, and indeed I’d been going to have him lie on his back to receive the plug a second time, but he was already on all fours and actually that would probably help me insert it easier so I just went with it. Everyone else I’ve ever been inside has had an asshole that felt like a raised pucker – like the ring of muscle around that back door actually sticks out. I have it, too. The Pedant – although his ass is super crazy tight – does not. His ass-crack is just all one smooth level. I always have to run my finger along the bottom of his crack and probe until I find the spot that yields more. With him presenting himself to me like this I could actually pull his cheeks apart and get a clear view (well, as clear as is possible with the amount of fur coverage he has) so that’s what I did to get the tip of the plug positioned again. Once it was back inside him I had him flip onto his back for me.

I intended on giving him the tied-up hand job he’d requested; I really did. He craved it and I like doing it so why not? But I also craved his cock inside me, so I figured I’d do that for a little while first. I retrieved the wrist restraints and laid them beside us while we made out some more. “Touch me while you still have the use of your hands,” I said, and he instantly began caressing my back.

He kept asking “you love having me as your slave like this, don’t you?” and similar. Obviously I said that I did, but this sort questioning during sex is such a frequent thing for him that I wonder whether it’s dirty talk or a genuine request for validation. Can it be that he’s so used to the social paradigm of women wanting dominant men that he still needs to hear from me that I prefer him underneath me and obeying me? Is me being ravenous and sopping wet and occasionally making a tiny involuntary squeaking noise at the sight of him in a collar or restraints not enough to reassure him?

I’d already been straddling him in order to kiss him and receive his back-pettings, but when I aligned our crotches and started fumbling between us for his cock he made that flurry of anticipatory whimpers that I love so much. Fuck the wrist restraints. They take too long. I sheathed The Pedant’s cock inside me and forced his wrists down into the pillow with my hands.

“You love this, don’t you?” he asked, yet again. “You love it when I serve you like this.”

I was sick of saying “yes” to this repeated question so I just kind of made a guttural noise by way of response – but a minute later I whispered “mine” and he got all gaspy, which he never used to do and which I absolutely loved. And a moment after that when I called him my good boy he gasped again.

I don’t think it’ll ever stop amazing me how much he seems to love being inside me. With most other guys it’s seemed like it felt pretty good to them but was more of a means to an end – a sensation that would eventually trigger orgasm and that was the thing they were pursuing. With The Pedant – not always, but for the past few months anyway, maybe because he feels secure in the relationship and can really let go – he writhes and moans and tosses his head around the way most guys would right before coming, except The Pedant is all ecstatic like that the entire time, basically from the moment I put him inside me. I’ve kept him in that state before for like ten solid minutes. I may try for longer at some point but I worry he’ll get overstimulated and the whole encounter will just kinda fall flat.

By the way, The Pedant makes eye contact more often these days, when his eyes aren’t fluttering back in his head.ūüėÄ And when we make eye contact he doesn’t shy away or seem embarrassed, except maybe just after he’s come.

So pretty much as soon as he reached that state of complete eye-fluttering helplessness I knew I wasn’t gonna stop the action and switch to a hand job. Being able to look right into his face while he totally lost it was just too good.

I got into an erratic pattern of thrusting slowly and deliberately for a while and then randomly pulling back just long enough to make him keen in frustration. You’d think his heart was breaking from not being all the way inside me, the way he carries on. I love it. I wanted my hands free to touch his face or stimulate his nipples, so I released his wrists; kind of flung his wrists at me, actually, and he intuited that I wanted him to wrap his hands around my hips, and he did.

During about the fourth or fifth time that I pulled back and paused with just the head of The Pedant’s cock inside me, he was sort of trying to pull my hips back down but couldn’t and finally he whispered “please…” with his lips so close to mine that I could almost feel him form the word.

“Yes,” I whispered back, and slid back down around him in one hard, swooping arc that made him cry out. Then I resumed my slow and deliberate thrusts, regular as a metronome, and as The Pedant began to come he pulled my hips down again to try to still them but his arm muscles couldn’t compete with the strength and intention of my entire lower body and I still managed to undulate on him slowly and milk out every last drop and every last sobbing sound he had in him. I’m glad he told me that he sometimes fears the intensity of his own climaxes and tries to shy away. It’s fun to watch him have that moment of panic. It’s fun to force him through it and out the other side.ūüėÄ

And in the wake of his orgasm, as I gazed down into his flushed face, he finally became self-conscious (or could it simply have been affection?) and pulled my head down into the crook of his neck.

At length he released me and I sat up, reached for my dildo, and placed it on his chest: “I require more fucking.”

So he dildo-fucked me while I got myself off with the Hitachi, twice.

And then we slept surprisingly badly and he went to work and (later) so did I.

I texted him from work saying I was really glad he was up for some play the night before and I looked forward to ravaging him again sometime when we didn’t have any time constraints. He replied “In the meantime, would you like to see the new Ghostbusters movie with me?”

Hell yeah I did! I asked when he had in mind and he said “I’m off at 4pm.” OMG he meant later that day! Honestly the sex alone has left me quite content but the fact that he wanted to spend more time with me (on the Friday night that he originally seemed not to want to spend with me, no less), and that I’d get to see a movie (which I never do of my own accord anymore because budget constraints), thrilled me to pieces.

The movie was good and he spent most of it snuggled up to me. And then he took me out to sushi. So basically, best day evaaaarrrrr.ūüėÄ After that he went home, I assume because he’d feel more rested for work the next day if he slept in his own bed.

Although, today when I said that it had been lovely to get out with him, he replied that it had cost him: he got home late enough that he ended up sleeping through his alarm and having to take a cab to work and was tired all day. He always seems to make a huge point of telling me when his time with me impacts other areas of his life, and I don’t understand if it’s meant as a guilt trip or an obscure bid to win my admiration by telling me about all the sacrifices he’s made for me. It’s especially irritating because it’s never me suggesting that we stay up so late. He was the one who suggested we get food after the movie. One day I’ll ask him why he seems to rub my face in it when being with me “makes” him late for work, but gahhhh so awkward.


*I didn’t chronicle his last visit but yeah, there was an epic hand job.

**The Pedant almost always couches anal play as something he’s doing for me. So far I’ve managed to bite my tongue and pretend to believe him. But yeeeeah he is totally a rampant anal slut at this point and it is not – or at least not entirely – for my benefit.

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Annnnd done.

The text I just sent to The Dandy:

I’m going to take a step back from you and Dandette. There are clearly unresolved issues between you and I don’t fancy being in the middle of them or a catalyst for them.

Please thank Dandette for her help with the cosplay prop but I will do without it. Feels like there’s not enough time to complete it (I work every single day from now til the gig I need it for and can’t come help with my fair share of making it. Plus I don’t WANT to come over at this point, for obvious reasons).

I’m sorry.

So that’s a big load off my mind. I feel bad about dumping The Dandy – his facial expressions last night as we lay in his bed listening to his ex-gf rage clearly said “Goddammit I finally started dating someone I really like and Dandette is totally cock-blocking me.” I feel like in dumping him I’ve succumbed to Dandette’s pressure or whatever – like she’s won, and he’ll be extra-angry at her for successfully fucking us up.

Luckily, that’s not my problem. None of this is my problem. Because I’m out.

I’ve said in the past that I think the universe gives people what they ask for (or, more precisely, what they need). What I haven’t touched on is the fact that it goes in both directions. I mean I’m not the most important person in the world, that the universe is bringing me things on a silver platter. When the universe connects me to certain people it’s doing it for both of us.

I hit on The Dandy because I was sad over a broken friendship and needed snuggles and attention from someone sympathetic – and, I guess, someone I wasn’t emotionally invested in, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them being put off by my maudlin crap. So the universe put him in my path to hit on because he fit what I needed¬†but also I fit what he needed. I think The Dandy hadn’t moved on too much from his last relationship, but didn’t realize it. I think he needed someone to come into his life and show him just how much not-moved-on he was, and to perhaps remind him of what a healthy relationship looks like. Dandette and I are eerily similar in many ways, but I’m exponentially more self-aware and better at communicating. And not a substance abuser (Dandette is a smoker and also – I’m suspecting – an alcoholic).

So it’s like the universe is saying “See, Dandy? I’ve given you a way-more-well-adjusted version of your ex in order to highlight, underline, and circle what the problems were in that previous relationship. Also, the ex is gonna go batshit when she sees that you’re dating, and this will highlight the problems in your current ‘friendship’ and force some discussions you should have had ages ago.”

Yay! I’m helping!ūüėõ

I’m actually glad I had an excuse to break it off with The Dandy, because he seemed to be getting way more attached to me than I was to him. I’m fond of him and enjoyed spending time with him but there’s not much of a spark for me. I was debating with myself whether I should bail, and couldn’t decide. And then a really, really good reason came up that sealed the deal.

I’d bet good money that after this whole debacle, The Dandy will move on from Dandette in earnest – and as a result, he’ll lose his attraction to me (since she and I are basically versions of the same person). I bet his next partner will be a lot different from Dandette and I (but emotionally mature like I am). I would like this for him. He really is a very nice boy and I wish him the best.


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Dandy drama

Holyyyyyy shit things got weird with The Dandy.

Well, not with him. With his girlfriend. Whoops, I mean ex girlfriend. I keep forgetting to add the “ex” part. For real, when I talk to The Dandy I keep almost referring to Dandette as his partner or girlfriend or whatever. There are reasons for this.

That first time that I went to his place and we all ended up having dinner together was pleasant enough, although the two of them did give me a pretty couple-y vibe (despite having been broken up for a year and a half). I mentioned this and The Dandy conceded that he may essentially be in a relationship with her, still – albeit a sexless, poly one. But allegedly they were always poly (he never had any outside partners, and I’m not sure if she did, but they were poly at least in theory) and I kind of assumed she knew how to navigate this.

A while after that, The Dandy mentioned to Dandette in passing that I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a certain cosplay prop, and she offered to help me – she works as a prop maker for movies and tv shows, so she has lots of valuable knowledge to add to this. So the other night I went over there and we worked on the prop for a few hours while The Dandy cooked dinner, and then we all sat around eating and talking.

During this evening, Dandette let it drop that she and her boyfriend were in the process of breaking up. I think this had put her in a fragile and lonely mood, plus she was seeing The Dandy canoodle with someone else for the first time since the two of them split up. So I think The Dandy was suddenly seeming appealing to her in a way he did not when she was dating someone else and he was dating nobody. There was a certain amount of territorial pissing from her that I did not care for at all. A lot of the conversation that evening comprised her telling anecdotes about The Dandy in a sort of bragging, “look what a long history we have!” way. It came out in passing that the two of them hang around the house naked, still. Which weirded me out but then I figured what the hell, they’ve seen each other naked anyway and if they’re both comfy that way then why take pains to be prudish around each other all of a sudden? But in retrospect I’m thinking my first reaction was the correct one. It’s clear to me now that the two of them don’t have good boundaries with each other. I think clothing would be one good boundary to establish, to sort of underline the fact that they aren’t dating anymore.

Incidentally, in getting to know Dandette better I learned that:

  • We both have depression and anxiety
  • We both have speech impediments (albeit different ones, and no I don’t want to talk about mine)
  • We’re both genderqueer to the point of having gone out in public as dudes, with dude-names and everything
  • We have similar relationships with our moms
  • She’s been planning (since before we met) to get the same haircut as me sometime soon

So that’s…interesting. Seems like The Dandy has a type.

Here’s the part of that night that I both regret and feel really pissed off about: I think I’d gotten up to get a glass of water or something and as I passed by The (seated) Dandy he put his arm around me and pulled me close and I stood there next to his chair like that for a bit. Dandette then was like “Me too!” and stood at his other side, and he either put his arm around her as well or she physically took his arm and wrapped it around her. And I thought, okay, they’re friends, this is not an inherently awful thing, and anyway she’s clearly processing some feelings about the fact that The Dandy and I are going out.

And so (stupid! Stupid!) I tried to demonstrate that I wasn’t a threat by laughingly suggesting we sandwich The Dandy’s head between our two sets of boobs (her tits were in his face anyway ’cause she’s short, so it was a pretty small leap to make). Lookit me, being all cool with Dandette being quasi-sexual with the guy I’m seeing. She can’t possibly feel threatened by me now, right?ūüėõ

From that point onward, even after we both sat back down, she kept demanding physical attention from him – and especially kept demanding equal attention from him whenever he touched me. She didn’t insist he kiss her, but if he reached out and petted my knee or something she’d immediately butt her knee up against his, looking for her allotment of pettings. And she suggested we sandwich The Dandy’s head at least two more times, maybe three. I bowed out of the last one, claiming it was too awkward for me to crouch down to that level. Spoilers: that was just an excuse. It was actually everything else about the act that was awkward for me.

When The Dandy went to drive me home, Dandette went out for a smoke at the same time so we all were waiting for the elevator together. At which point The Dandy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around both of us, pulling me in so her face was in my tits. And she nestled right in there and commented on how I was the perfect height for hugging, and The Dandy was grinning at me over her head, and just…nope. NOPE NOPE NOPE FUCKING NOPE. It felt as though The Dandy was trying to neatly circumvent Dandette’s jealousy issues by nudging us all into dating each other, but I’m not bi, not interested in her*, and not interested in being a human crutch, sooooo yeah.

I suppose I’m a hypocrite for complaining about The Dandy’s lack of boundaries when I wasn’t able to step out of the group hug and use my words to say it was inappropriate and no thank you. What I did do was wait til Dandette said something directly into my cleavage and remark, in a bemused tone, “Your voice is echoing a little bit” and both of them busted up laughing and the hug dissolved on its own.


Earlier in the week, my friend Ponytail invited me out clubbing on Friday (which was tonight). I knew that The Dandy went to that same nightclub pretty much every Friday and Saturday, so I told him I’d be there and said that I could come home with him afterward if he’d like. Bear in mind that this plan was made before Boob Sandwich Night had happened.

Incidentally, on Boob Sandwich Night it came up that Dandette was going to the club on Friday, too. And when she realized I would be there she was like “Oh shit, you’re stealing my security blanket person” – meaning that she was not only going there with The Dandy but relying on him to be her official person-to-talk-to so she wouldn’t get socially anxious (I do the same thing). I assured her that my first allegiance was to the friend I was going with, but she still expressed angst about it a few more times throughout dinner and honestly by the end of the night I was regretting my idea of coming home with The Dandy. But I didn’t feel I could suggest he come to my place instead because he was Dandette’s ride home, and I felt that if I cancelled the after-club visit part entirely Dandette would know it was because of her and she’d feel bad. So I stayed the course.

Long story short, Dandette got shitfaced tonight to a point where she was staggering into people. On several occasions when The Dandy hugged me she pouted, “where’s mine?” until he gave her an equal hug. She danced all up on Ponytail and then told me afterward (when we were no longer in Ponytail’s company) that he’d been desperate and horny and grabbing her ass. I didn’t see him grab her ass and frankly I do not believe he would have. I also don’t believe he’s the one who was “desperate” tonight.

We drove back to Dandy and Dandette’s place in silence and once we got in she took it personally that their dog greeted The Dandy and I before her. Then The Dandy and I went into his bedroom and she went into hers…and flung herself on the bed, sobbing loudly. The Dandy and I lay on his bed just kinda looking at each other in chagrin.

“I feel awkward being here…” I whispered.

“Yeah…” he said, and we both chuckled nervously.

Dandette abruptly knocked on the door and said “Can the dog come in with you?” The Dandy said yes. She let the dog in and then slammed the door and went back to her room to cry some more. Lord knows why she didn’t keep the dog in there with her; probably she was continuing her self-pitying conceit that the dog liked us better.

A short while later, she whipped our door open again without announcing herself and said “YOUR LIGHT IS BUGGING ME. TURN OFF YOUR LIGHT” and slapped at the wall looking for the light switch. She didn’t find it (and it wasn’t the overhead light that was on, anyway, it was a bedside lamp). She slammed the door again. I’m glad I was still fully dressed.

The Dandy murmured “If you need to bail, I can drive you home.” I said I thought that would be best. He didn’t make any move to get up and I didn’t prompt him. Dandette slammed out of the apartment for a cigarette break, slammed back in again, shut herself into the bathroom and began running a bath. The Dandy and I got up in concert and quietly left. Perhaps both of us were waiting for her to be a) in a known place and b) indisposed before we were brave enough to venture out of the bedroom. I know that’s what I was doing.

Still, though, I was feeling anxious and antsy as fuck as we waited for the elevator. I kept wondering if Dandette would realize we’d left and come out to either rage at us, tearfully and sloppily apologize to us, or both. Because that’s the thing about drunk people – they know when they’re making you uncomfortable and yet for some reason they don’t stop. Ever. They’ll apologize for their behaviour but they won’t actually quit doing it.

Once we were safely in The Dandy’s car I ended up bursting into tears from the stress of the evening. First off, Dandette’s drunkenness brought back entirely too many memories of my marriage (my ex husband is an alcoholic and so are both of his parents, so I’ve been around drunks way too fucking much for one lifetime, thanks). Secondly, there’s just too much going on here. I basically like Dandette, aside from how badly she’s handling me dating The Dandy. She’s been nice to me and made forays into friendship with me, and now I’m left wondering whether she actually likes me or if this is one of those weird passive-aggressive chick strategies I don’t understand – overcompensating because she hates me but feels bad about it? Keeping her friends close and her enemies closer? And I want to talk to The Dandy about all of this but because he’s really close to her he might discuss whatever I say with her, which will make it painfully awkward to be anywhere near her (although I did talk to him about things a bit, earlier today; maybe I’ll transcribe that convo later). And I want The Dandy to like me so I feel like I can’t be too disparaging of Dandette, anyway.

As I cried in his car in the parking garage of his building, The Dandy gently pulled my head to his chest. When my crying wound down a bit I said “I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to add to the drama of the evening. But there’s just been a lot of things tonight that I don’t handle very well.”

“If crying on my shoulder is the worst you’re gonna do then it’s really not a big deal to me at all.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

The Dandy drove me home and dropped me off without asking to stay over. This impressed me to no end. He surely didn’t want to go back home and face Dandette’s bullshit, but I’m guessing he knew that if he asked to stay over it would be more to get away from her than to be with me, and that’s not fair to me. For my part, I’d already decided that I didn’t want him here tonight. I want to be away from all this fucking drama, and I don’t want to feel like I’m rescuing a grown man who should handle his own shit. I’m thankful that The Dandy is in fact a grown man who handles his own shit. Although he should have handled it a long time before this.

We talked a bit about Dandette. I said that obviously she would notice I hadn’t stayed as long as planned, and when she asked about it, would The Dandy please please PLEASE not say that I was the one who wanted to go home. Say I forgot to feed the cats or something but just don’t make shit awkward between us. He said he might just tell her that he decided it was a good idea for me to go because I shouldn’t be exposed to the ridiculous things she was doing. The Dandy is a happy-go-lucky, terminally optimistic type but there was definite anger brewing in his voice as he told me that he would very likely be telling her off for her inappropriate behaviour in the near future.

I asked him something about her history or motivations or something – I forget – and he hesitated and then said “Y’know…I think I shouldn’t comment on that right now. I think at this exact moment I might ascribe Machiavellian motivations to her that aren’t actually fair.”

“I respect that you’re self-aware enough to realize that your thinking may be skewed right now,” I said. Then I kissed him goodbye, wished him luck, and went inside.

I hate to hurt his feelings but I think I really need to break things off with him, at least temporarily. He clearly has some issues in his personal life that need tending to and TBH I could barely have tolerated tonight for someone I was falling in love with, let alone a guy I feel barely-more-than-platonic affection for.

Yeah. Fuck this.


*Dandette is bi, and may be interested in me for all I know. But that’s still not grounds for a threesome.


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Sexual logistics

So if you’ll recall, The Pedant had told me (after prompting) that he could come over on Monday – and might actually arrive on Sunday night. I was annoyed by the vagueness and asked him when he would let me know for sure. He said “Tomorrow. :)” To be honest when he said that I thought “Ha. We’ll see” because he does not have a good track record with keeping me apprised.

By “tomorrow” at 8pm I hadn’t heard from him whatsoever. I texted him a piece of chitchat in hopes that seeing my name would make him remember that he was supposed to firm up plans with me. It didn’t; he responded to my chatty thing but that’s it. At a quarter after nine I grudgingly texted “so what’s the plan, Stan?” – I really wanted him to fucking follow up without me having to nag him, but it seemed like he wasn’t gonna do that and I disliked feeling like I was holding my Sunday night open for him for possibly no reason (and maybe my Monday, too; his wording had been a bit ambiguous and for all I knew he wouldn’t be coming over at all). I’d been wanting to see The Dandy again and it irked me that I felt I couldn’t because I was waiting for The Pedant’s dumb ass to get back to me.

By midnight The Pedant still hadn’t replied, although I could see he’d read my message. I texted “Right. Well, I don’t like being in limbo until the last minute so I’ll assume I have tomorrow night to myself.” After a few minutes I added, “And honestly I’m irritated by how much I’ve had to prompt you, anyway.”

Then I immediately texted The Dandy and asked if he’d like to come over the next day – that being Sunday. The Dandy seems to have a hard time leaving my presence so it seemed likely that he’d end up staying the night if he came over – though he would of course have to go to work. So that would take up my Sunday night (and give The Pedant time to THINK ABOUT WHAT HE DID :P) and yet still leave plenty of time for The Pedant to come over on Monday if he was gonna.

The Dandy ended up texting me back pretty fast to tell me he was out clubbing and ask if I’d like him to come straight over after. I was feeling lonely and neglected because of the bullshit with The Pedant (and also because Mine had been supposed to come over for the weekend but had to cancel because he was sick, so I’d been all wound up expecting snuggles and attention and then they fell through). I said yes to The Dandy coming over – and my will power sucks because one of my thoughts there was “Ooooh, if he crashes here tonight he’ll be way more likely to go home tomorrow instead of staying a second night…which means if The Pedant ends up coming through for me I can still have him over Sunday night.” Yeah, so much for teaching The Pedant a lesson by being unavailable.

At about 2:30, while I was waiting for The Dandy to arrive, The Pedant texted me: “Sorry! My battery died and I didn’t have my spare on me. I can come by tomorrow evening, but quite late, like, after sundown. Unless you’ve made alternate plans, of course.”

For the record, his phone battery excuse cuts no ice with me at all. I mean it probably did happen, but my “what’s the plan?” text showed up as read sometime around 11pm. If he’d firmed up our plans anytime during the previous 11+ hours, his dead battery would not have been an issue for us. And even as things stand he probably could have managed to text “yes to sun” or “battery dying” to me before his phone died.

I made him wait half an hour and texted back “I’m hanging out with someone during the day but I imagine you’d be safe to arrive at 10pm-ish.”

He texted back a thumbs-up emoticon, and the next afternoon he texted me again emphasizing how much he was looking forward to seeing me (“I miss you manacling my hands behind my back and slipping things into me”). Perhaps he was unnerved by my silence (even though he knew I was with someone else) and sucking up to me a little extra. Good.

Note to self: don’t ever have two sex partners over back-to-back again. The Dandy left my place at about 8:30. The Pedant ended up arriving at 11ish. I’ve been endlessly tired lately (getting sick, I suspect) and was exhausted, but there were things to do before The Pedant arrived: shower, try to air out the bedroom that smelled distinctly like fornication, throw out the condoms and condom wrappers, flip over the fitted sheet so the bed had a surface to it that wasn’t directly covered in The Dandy’s ass-sweat (I only own one set of sheets and there wasn’t time to wash them). Doing all that stuff made me feel a bit like I was running a brothel rather than preparing for a lover (“Time for the next guy! I’d better reset the bedroom to an unsullied-looking state so I can start the whole seduction process again from scratch…”).

And my thigh muscles were wrecked by the time The Pedant got here, so I couldn’t entirely ravage him in the ways I wanted to.

Those of you who have been paying attention will notice I mentioned condom wrappers and condoms. Yup, The Dandy and I had some good ol’ heternormative sex. I’d been avoiding that with anyone but The Pedant, partly because my other partners keep on having bigger dicks than I’d like and partly because I thought maybe The Pedant would be put off by me fucking other people so I figured I’d better save it for a really special occasion. The Pedant and I talked about it though – last time I saw him I’d mentioned having had a busy week for male houseguests, and I clarified that this didn’t include PIV. He said “Are you worried that you doing that with other people will be a problem for me?” I said kinda. “It’s not,” he said. So that was a load off my mind. When we first talked about foregoing condoms he’d seemed pretty paranoid about STIs so you can’t blame me for thinking he might want to wrap his junk up again if he knew I was fucking other people.

But yeah. My attraction to The Dandy is still kinda iffy and it’s not like I’m super in love with him but I’ve noticed that I tend to be suuuuuuper cautious about who I get involved with and then periodically I get sick of being so restrained all the time and I just go ahead and jump in headlong with someone. And The Dandy has a perfect-sized cock for me. And I loved that he seemed to be taking things at my pace and just enjoying whatever I offered; he never so much as hinted about us having sex, or asked when we would, or if I’d ever want to, or anything like that. I felt safe with him. But…I hate to admit it but I may have jumped into sex partly because I was worried if I waited too long he would start asking about it and it would wreck my good opinion of him.

At any rate, we were making out on my couch and I murmured in his ear “I would fuck you, if you wanted me to” and he grinned from ear to ear and said that sounded just fine by him.

Guys are so weird: sometimes they come and don’t know it. The Dandy and I started out fucking on my couch but then I wanted to move to the bedroom and when I went to put his still-condomed dick back inside me, I noticed there was a somewhat substantial amount of white liquid in there…and pre-come is always clear in my experience. “Hey, did you fire off a round before and I didn’t notice?”

He looked and said “I…don’t know. I guess so?” It’s possible he was just covering for what he felt was premature ejaculation, but he doesn’t seem like the type. Also for the record I’d been on top and pumping pretty hard out there for like ten minutes and had been getting bored so it would not have been “premature” to me by any means. Anyway I believe him that he came but didn’t realize it, although I don’t understand how that is a thing.

We started fucking some more once we were in the bedroom, this time with him on top. He’s got wide hips though and after a bit I needed a break because it hurt for my thighs to be that open for that long. He put his fingers inside me instead and I grabbed the Hitachi and went to work on myself. I was having a bit of a hard time coming; it was taking a while. He eventually pushed himself back inside me and used his body and thrusts to push the Hitachi up against me, as The Bunny used to do. The Dandy is fatter than I usually find attractive but I have to say that a squishy belly is pretty much an essential ingredient in a Hitachi Sandwich – if the other person’s body has no give to it then the vibrator gets mashed into me brutally hard. As it was, The Dandy’s thrusts sent me absolutely over the moon – although I still didn’t come. I can’t remember whether I asked him to withdraw and use his fingers again or if he just did it unprompted (I think the latter) but he did, and I did finally come, and just as my orgasm was winding up his plunged his cock into me again and it felt fantastic.

He never did end up having an orgasm (I mean…not one that he noticed…) but he didn’t seem to need one. He rolled off me of his own accord and snuggled me, and when I asked “How are you doing?” he intuited what I really meant by that and said “I’m good. I don’t need anything more.”

Funny how a good orgasm doesn’t necessarily connote good sex. I came really hard, and I think The Dandy showed some good instincts and good skills. I enjoyed the sensations he gave me. The Pedant, conversely, barely touches me (let alone skillfully) when we have sex. And yet the subsequent Pedant sex left way more of an impression on me than the Dandy sex. I crave more Pedant. The Dandy is more like I’ll partake if he’s there but I won’t necessarily crave the sex when he’s not around.

Really, The Pedant has me questioning some of my base assumptions about my own sexuality. For a long time I thought I was a “taker” sexually (there are people who love giving pleasure the most and people who love taking it the most and people who are an even split more-or-less). I was comfortable with the idea. But with The Pedant I am very much a giver because he’s so vocal and squirmy and hot that I love provoking reactions.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone who was more of a “giver” sexually, but I think that’s where The Dandy stands. His own orgasms are fairly mild by his own admission (at least compared to how mine seem to be – that’s also a quote from him). He’s almost dead silent when I do stuff to him, and I mostly don’t sense anything going on under the surface, even – when I try to do foreplay-ish stuff there’s no little hitch of breath or tensing of muscles or goosebumps or anything like that. I might as well be trying to snog a tree. But he seems more than willing to touch me for long periods of time, and will in fact start caressing my genitals and slip a finger inside me pretty damn often of his own accord.

I think our sex was slightly wonkus because I was trying to fit him into the same mold as The Pedant – I straddled and rode and tried to get him off and wanted him to make noise. But The Dandy is not for provoking reactions out of. The Dandy – it seems to me – is for catering to my wants. So maybe if I get myself into that headspace, I’ll enjoy him more.

He identifies as dominant though so I’m having a hard time getting my head around it all. Not that dominants don’t want to please their partners, but I assume they might not be too big on being given specific step-by-step instructions throughout an encounter, and that’s how I usually roll. But maybe he wouldn’t actually mind if I bossed him around a bunch, or maybe he’ll catch on to what I like and just do stuff without me even having to ask. So far that seems to be what he’s going for, actually. He learned that I like how he touches my g-spot and now he initiates that a bunch. He learned how I like to be petted and does that (the time I was at his place he ended up gently circling his fingertips over both my inner elbows at once until I was keening and thrashing all over the place…he made some awed comment that people probably wouldn’t believe this scenario even if he described it to them.)

I think The Dandy might be to me what I am to The Pedant.

Oh, funny story: I asked him what he was into as a dominant and he seemed unable to really tell me much (I kind of get the impression he played the dom for his ex-gf but maybe isn’t super into it of his own accord? Maybe I’m wrong). He did, however, tell me that he and his ex did a lot of breath play. And he smirked and added “So I totally know what you’re up to when you put your hand on my throat.” Ha! Busted. I’d never choke anyone without them expressly telling me they wanted it, but I do like wrapping my hand around someone neck just lightly while we make out, and thinking about what a vulnerable position that puts them in if I did decide to squeeze…





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Pedant update

The Pedant usually goes totally silent when he has a relationship email from me in his queue, as though¬†thinking about the big picture clogs up his brain completely and he can’t so much as text me a hello. This time that didn’t happen, and for that and other reasons I thought maybe my last email to him hadn’t gone through. But he’s replied now, thanking me for the info and saying it took him this long to respond because he had to read it over several times to make sure he understood.

Not long after that, he sent me an email listing his work schedule for the next two weeks (with the starts and ends of his shifts in military time, which is annoying as fuck to me and totally unnecessary but okay). After all the shift times was a paragraph specifically pointing out his days off, but stating that he had fewer of them than usual and that his shifts keep vacillating from morning to evening so he’ll be pretty wrecked most of the time. O…kay?

I wrote back “Unsure if you’re letting me know when you can come over or emphasizing that your schedule is so erratic and crowded that you can’t…but I’m gonna toss out there that my July 11 is free, just in case.”

His response: “Mostly the former, but with a sprinkling of the latter, especially for the second week on that list.” That’s it; that’s all he said. I had to prompt him about July 11th, and he said “possibly.” I asked when he would know whether the possibly was a definitely and he said he’d tell me tomorrow.

If you’re keeping count, that was about seven steps to accomplish¬†what could have been accomplished in three:¬†“Hey I wanna come over, here are the days that work for me.” “Cool how about [date]?” “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.” And three of those steps were me prompting him for clarification.

I’m so tired. So…very…tired. I guess he’s¬†trying to meet my request for him to initiate more visits, and I do appreciate the transparency with his work schedule. But it boggles me how difficult he manages to make things without apparently trying. And it irritates me extra because (I know I keep harping on this) he’s said he doesn’t understand subtleties and needs¬†me to be straightforward – implying that¬†he is a straightforward person. But so much of the time I have no idea what he’s trying to tell me.

Anyway. He seems to have changed a lot since a few months ago. Back then I felt absolutely in love with him, and he¬†fed those feelings regularly. Now he’s not feeding my heart and so I feel…nothing. I mean, probably not¬†really nothing. But I can’t let myself trust him to pay enough attention to me, initiate visits in a direct manner, and arrive for them on time. So I’m numb.

I happen to have an influx of other men in my life right now – Mine is suddenly back in regular contact, there’s The Dandy, there’s a sweet boy from Fetlife I’m really fond of and another who has potential and this guy might also be back in the picture – and god knows the ranks will probably thin themselves out¬†soon enough, but in the meantime I have no shortage of distraction and touch at my disposal. So I’m basically gonna try to step back from The Pedant and see if he picks up the slack.¬†Beats the shit out of sitting around pining and periodically telling him I need him to do more, and anyway at the ¬†moment I can’t remember what he’s like when things are good so there’s nothing to pine for.

Right now, with me feeling numb, it seems like if The Pedant doesn’t step up his game there’s no need to actually break up with him. The sex is fun; it’d be a shame to lose that. If I can just shift my focus and lower my expectations so he’s not my main relationship-person anymore but just some guy I fuck sometimes when I can be bothered, that would be cool. Although probably once I see him in person again my walls will crack and all my stupid feelings will come oozing out. Numbness is not the same as being over someone.

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More Dandy

Came over to The Dandy’s place last night after work and ended up sleeping over.

I’m finding myself somewhat smitten, albeit with reservations.

The reservations are mostly that – perhaps due to how we initially hooked up – we sort of got really intimate really fast. It feels a bit uncontrolled and a bit wonky and I feel like maybe he likes the concept of me more than who I actually am? I dunno. When I visited him he didn’t proffer any sort of¬†activity, like watching a movie. We just sat around in mostly silence and every time I made eye contact he beamed beatifically at me and it was kind of awkward so I filled the silence by asking him barrages of questions about himself and also by giving him a hand job.ūüėõ I don’t love that I segued to sexual stuff simply for lack of anything else to do, butttttt yeah. I guess maybe to him the silences are comfortable but to me they’re not and I try to fill them, but is that kind of mismatch a thing? I mean aren’t people usually on the same page about silences, and what makes an uncomfortable silence uncomfortable is that¬†both people can’t think of anything to say and they both know it?

The smitten is because The Dandy wears his emotions totally on the outside – he’s quite clear that he likes me and isn’t pretending to be aloof even the tiniest bit. And he’s generous with his physical affection – I don’t have a constant debate over whether he’ll rebuff public affection¬†like I do with The Pedant. The Dandy is sweet and smart and he cooked for me. And I told him about the Five Love Languages and he totally gets the concept and also seemed to be storing up the info I gave him on¬†my preferred languages for later use. And he just looks so¬†happy to be with me that it’s super endearing. Not¬†grateful (there may be some of that, too, but it’s not what I’m responding to) but¬†happy. Like I’m a delightful novelty, or at least having a woman in his bed is.

And he’s not¬†linear in the way he has sex: at one point we were canoodling around and he put a couple of fingers inside me and I was enjoying it, but just in case he was trying to make me come I told him “Just so you know I haven’t been able to get off without my Hitachi for a long time, and I didn’t have the foresight to pack it, so what we’re doing here is strictly recreational.” He said it looked like I was having fun, and he kept going. He didn’t lose all interest when I told him it wasn’t gonna lead to me orgasming. At another point, we were making out for a long time – I mean with me straddling him and grinding up on his cock and both of us naked. Then we each needed a bathroom break and at that point I realized it was 2am and I was like “Wow, I’d been planning on going home tonight but it’s so late that I’m totally gonna sleep over instead” (he’d invited me to, earlier). And I guess he interpreted that as me saying I needed to sleep at that moment because¬†when he came back to bed he just…snuggled up to me and we went to sleep. There was no “but I had an erection and you didn’t get me off!” elephant of resentment in the room. That’s a tremendous relief.

Incidentally, his kissing was better this time and his skill at touching me was, too. I guess last time he might have had first-time jitters and not been taking cues very well? I have hopes that his learning curve will keep progressing and things will be good.

Oh and by the way that hand job I gave him? Was apparently the first time¬†another person has ever been able to get him off that way. And he’s 42. But we all know that I’m awesome in bed, so…ūüėõ

Other scattered things I wanna say:


The Dandy has a dog and a cat. I observed that his cat has a proportionately short tail. The Dandy immediately was like “Eeeek! Please never tell me¬†my¬†‘tail’ is too short, even if you’re thinking it.”

“Your tail is everything a tail should be,” I assured him. And then, in case he thought I was just humouring him as per his request: “I’ll show you my favourite dildo sometime – the only one I use on myself. It’s of comparable size. I have a distinct preference and you’re it.”

The hand job I gave him started out as a blow job, in fact, because I really do enjoy medium-sized, uncut cocks the very most and this one is attached to someone I like. And also I was at a loss for how to keep our conversation going.ūüėõ He petted my head as I went down on him but didn’t shove it, and thankfully he mostly (when I dared to look up) seemed to be enjoying my ministrations¬†with his eyes closed instead of gazing unwaveringly¬†at me with a big smile on his face (which is what he did that first night we hooked up when I was giving him a hand job).

The Dandy is roommates with his ex-girlfriend. I met her; actually we all ate the dinner The Dandy cooked together around the dining room table, with me wearing The Dandy’s bathrobe because we’d been previously doing naked stuff. I’d thought we were going into the kitchen to dish food onto plates and then the two of us would go back into his room and have a bed-picnic of sorts, but instead The Dandy led the way to the table and I thought¬†“Oh shit. Well, I guess this is happening now…”

For the record, though, when The Dandy’s ex got home from the evening class she was at, she called out to me “I’m changing into a tank top that’s kind of see-through. Do you care?” so she’s not a terribly formal person. She also was pleasant dinner company – there was no weirdness or jealousy that I could sense.

I asked The Dandy (this was before dinner), whether either of them had dated anyone else since they broke up (which happened a year and a half ago), trying to suss out whether my presence would cause any weirdness. He said his ex currently has a boyfriend and as for himself “…Do you count?”

The problem with the word “dating” is that it’s way too vague. It can mean something casual – as in you are literally going on dates with a person – or it can mean an established romantic relationship. And suddenly when The Dandy asked if I counted as someone he’s “dating”, I wondered what he actually meant by that. Because he is seeming maybe a little…intense.¬†So I hemmed and hawed and said “I don’t know. Do I?” and he said yes, and I was too chicken to parse that out with him. But yeah, I guess he didn’t have anyone at all that he was seeing since the breakup. He said he needed some time alone and that I had hit on him at exactly the right time. I guess he was just starting to be ready to get out there again.

When I went to his place, I met up with him en route and we proceeded together. I’d worked a full day and was exhausted, and maybe that showed. When we left his place the next morning I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep and definitely looked like life had punched me in the face. In both instances, The Dandy put his arm around me on the bus and pulled me in so that I was leaning on his shoulder. I assumed he was doing this as a comforting gesture because I was in rough shape, but now I’m wondering if it was just part of his general campaign to be touching me pretty much constantly whenever we’re together. I really hope it’s the former. Leaning my head on someone’s shoulder like that is actually pretty physically awkward for me and I only want to do it when I’m either crazy tired or trying to shut out the presence of other people so that I don’t have an anxiety meltdown. I don’t want the gesture of yanking my body over at a 45 degree angle to¬†be a default for him. Seems kinda presumptuous.

I’ve been convinced for a long time that my anxiety issues make me difficult to like and will probably ultimately doom any romantic relationship I manage to find. So now, when I meet someone with any kind of romantic potential, I make a point of slipping it into conversation that I have anxiety. Maybe I even mention it too much or talk about the ramifications in an unsavory amount of detail, because if it’s gonna drive someone off I’d rather it happen early. The Dandy has not been put off by my many references to my issues. It’s¬†unclear why. I mean,¬†maybe he’s just cool with things? But it seems possible that he’s seeing me through infatuation goggles and not really¬†getting it. It also seems possible that he might be a bit of a white knight, which usually doesn’t bode well for me: those guys are super eager to take me on as a¬†project and try to¬†fix me, and then they get mad that nothing they do will actually accomplish this.

Whatever The Dandy’s deal is, though, he seems like someone I could train to handle my issues the way I need. Which would be lovely for however long things last.

For what it’s worth, The Dandy had a heart bypass a few years ago and has to take blood pressure meds and I think some other pills, too. So he knows that human bodies fail sometimes. And I suspect that would help him to be more understanding of my own failings, which are just as physical as his but located in my brain.





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A night with a boy.

So. This post right here? Where I mention a guy I was really attracted to and another that I felt was into me and I was semi-curious about him but not enough to ever have made a move?

The guy I was really attracted to is The Pedant. The guy I was mildly attracted to is his friend I’ll call The Dandy because of a pic of him on Facebook looking very dapper in a goth/steampunk sort of way.

I went clubbing the other night with this friend who I haven’t named yet and I guess I’ll just call him Ponytail because he always wears his hair back and I’m out of ideas. This was the day after shit hit the fan with The Veteran, and I was really fucked up over it. When I say that shit hit the fan I mean that¬†when I told her I needed to step back from our friendship and that I think she’s in a manic episode and it’s scaring me, she volleyed abuse at me via voicemail, email, and text for the next three hours. I was afraid to go home from work in case she was waiting for me so she could rage at me in person. I was wondering if I would have to get a restraining order against her.

For the record, behaving like that is¬†not the best way to prove that you’re not scary and manic.

Anyway I barely slept that night because I was so rattled by her vitriol. The shit she said was¬†so mean. Really trying to slice as deep as she could, using everything she knew about me. And so what had started out as me wanting to take a break from her until she was back on meds suddenly became me suspecting that the friendship was over permanently because I’m not sure I can trust her anymore. Ironically (and infuriatingly) most of her insults were very pot-meets-kettle. She accused me of just pretending to like her all this time, but by how quickly she turned on me it seemed like she must have been the one pretending. She said I’m clearly not equipped to judge anyone else’s mental state because I’m so fucked up I can’t even keep my apartment tidy; she is literally hoarding garbage. And on and on and on, making it really tempting to respond and point out what a fucking hypocrite she was being, but I managed to refrain. She is not well. She will not understand logic. And if she barraged me with shit for hours¬†without me ever even replying, lord knows what I’d trigger if I did say anything.

I was kind of dying to have someone over that night, both to cuddle me and to make me feel protected from stalking if that ended up happening. But I got the strong feeling that The Pedant would not have accommodated me. There were other people I would have liked to call upon for this but each one had something where I thought it would be a bad idea or an unfeasible idea so I just sat alone in my apartment, crying and texting some friends for support and wondering about getting the police involved.

When I met up with Ponytail the next day to head out to the club, his hello hug triggered a sobbing fit right there in the bus terminal. I wrestled myself under control but then started sobbing again as we waited for a bus. I was not doing well. On the bus I broke down yet again. Through all of this Ponytail sat and listened and sometimes reached way out and put a hand on my shoulder. I wouldn’t have minded hugs or cuddles from him, honestly, but I was in such a vulnerable state that it seems likely I would have muddled up our friendship. I respected and appreciated that he showed support without getting all up in my personal space. It kept¬†things simpler.

Minx and my friend Red were at the club, too. I managed to dance a little bit with everyone and have some semblance of fun. Kinda. It was hot in there though and Red and I ducked outside for some air. There, we encountered The Dandy, who was on his way in. He¬†gave me a huge hug hello (his awesome hugs are one reason I’m drawn to him – they are not cursory. They are long and have affection poured into them. Same with Ponytail, actually) and hung out with Red and I for a bit. He knew, from a passing remark I’d made on Facebook, that I’d had a huge falling out with a friend. Red didn’t know, and I told her and started crying again for a bit. The Dandy listened to me vent and was sympathetic.

On a side note, every time we’ve ever run into each other anywhere, he’s kinda¬†twinkled at me every time we made eye contact. Which is why I felt he had a crush on me. And he was doing the same thing that night. And in my vulnerable state it was hitting me harder than usual.

An hour or two of dancing later, Ponytail decided he wanted to leave and I was going to head out with him. When I stopped to hug The Dandy goodbye, though, The Dandy¬†said “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to – if you stay, I can drive you home.” A good song had just come on and I was hoping it would be followed by more, plus I had gotten it into my head that I probably wanted to hit on The Dandy and finally satisfy my vague curiosity about him, so I opted to stay. (I hope Ponytail doesn’t feel this was a breach of etiquette, coming to a place with him but then not leaving with him. He wouldn’t have known I was partly motivated by the prospect of makeouts,¬†but still).

Even when The Dandy was driving me home I couldn’t make up my mind about hitting on him. I was well aware that a big part of my interest that night was just me being vulnerable and needing to feel loved and wanted after The Veteran’s profound rejection. I was also well aware that any remaining interest was probably fleeting. I do have a bad habit of wanting to kiss someone just to see what it’s like, and then once I know, I don’t feel like doing it again. This usually seems to hurt and baffle the other person, plus I’ve had…god, off the top of my head I can think of¬†four different people who sexually assaulted me after I clearly stated that my interest had run its course and I wanted to just be platonic. I didn’t want to get myself into a mess or hurt anyone.

But when he pulled up outside my house and we were saying our goodbyes he was doing the twinkly eyes at me so fucking strongly that I kind of lost all track of how to exit the car¬†without making a move. It’s like the strength of his crush was pulling me in. I did make a speech, though, to try to head off any future hurt at the pass (futile, I know…). I said something like “I…often find myself kind of¬†quasi-attracted to someone, where I’m curious what it would be like to make out with them but I don’t necessarily want it to go anywhere.” Pause. “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

The way his face slowly lit up was the best thing ever. This, folks, is what I live for:¬†chasing and catching. Seeing the look on a guy’s face when I offer myself, like he can’t believe his good fortune. “I would be totally okay with that,” The Dandy said, so I leaned across the car and made contact.

Unfortunately, he was not a good kisser. Not¬†terrible, I guess; he didn’t bounce his teeth off mine or drool all over my face or anything. But his kisses were just a string of discrete smooches on my mouth¬†and¬†simply refused to¬†take flight, even when I tried to lead him in that direction. I’d pause or linger or try to vary the intensity and he just kept robotically smooching at precise intervals. He’s in his 40s so it’s weird to me both that he kisses that way and that he doesn’t seem to know how to adapt to a new partner.

Still, though, there was the thrill of newness and the lovely way he looked into my eyes. I think he even put his hand on my head as we kissed, which is like Kryptonite. It makes me feel loved. And I so very much needed to feel loved.

After a couple of minutes I disengaged and said goodbye…but somehow didn’t actually exit the car. The Dandy was petting my back and I couldn’t stand to move away from the human contact. We sat there for a while with me slumped over the dashboard and him petting me, and then he said I looked uncomfortable in that position and pulled me in to lean my head on his chest instead.

I still absolutely meant to leave the car and go into my apartment alone. I even pulled away again and said I really should be going. But I didn’t open the damn door. The Dandy silently petted me a bunch more and I leaned on his chest again and I realized that his hands were staying entirely on the part of my back covered by my tank top. He did not touch my bare arms or shoulders at all. He was respecting boundaries.

And a third time I declared an intention of leaving, and thanked The Dandy sincerely for the much-needed snuggles. “I could come in for a¬†night of snuggles…” he suggested, and because he’d been respectful of my body so far, I said okay.

Once we got inside and were seated on my couch I realized he may have been using “snuggles” as a euphemism for sex so I did my usual awkward thing of killing all plausible deniability with my relentless honesty. I said something like “Oh just to be really clear, I took your offer of ‘snuggles’ literally. I’m not intending on things getting really openly sexual tonight. If that’s not what you were looking for, you can totally go home and I won’t be upset or anything. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here.”

The Dandy said he was open to sex but not expecting it by any means, and snuggling was fine.

“I don’t really wanna make any big decisions while I’m feeling like such a sad bastard” I said. (He chuckled at that.) “I’ve kinda wanted to kiss you since I’ve known you, so¬†that decision seems like it’s pretty safe.” I leaned in and we kissed a little more (smooch…smooch…smooch…smooch…). Then we snuggled on my couch and talked and stuff. And finally I felt ready for bed so I changed into boxers and took my bra off out from under my tank top and we retired to the bedroom. ¬†We only slept for a few hours but he had his arms wrapped around me the whole time and it was really nice. And no boundary-pushing per se. Probably. Although when I woke up we were spooning and I realized that in hugging his arm around¬†me I’d basically pressed¬†his hand directly onto one of my breasts, and I could tell that he was aware of this. I don’t mean that I felt an erection pressed into my ass or anything but just…he would flex his fingers slightly every so often, I presume¬†subtly copping a feel. I would prefer that he’d discreetly moved his hand somewhere more neutral.

He’d taken his pants off at some point and I couldn’t remember when he’d done that. When he came back from the bathroom he decided to remove his shirt, too, which made me brace myself for sexual overtures but none were forthcoming. I guess he just wanted to be more comfortable. He climbed back into bed and we cuddled some more and occasionally talked. He’s engaging to talk to and has a nice voice and animated way of speaking. I think by then he’d progressed to petting my arms and legs rather than just my clothed back, but that’s as far as that went. We’d become physically comfortable with each other but it was pretty nonsexual, aside from the occasional kissing. Sometimes during the kissing he would chuckle and I’d always go “what?” and he never said anything. I remember reading somewhere that some people just smile or laugh when they’re happy – including when they’re happy to be making out with someone. I think that’s what that was. He¬†looked into my face a lot when we were kissing. He has really pretty eyes, and the way he looked at me left me kind of starstruck. Although I did not find the rest of his body attractive, particularly.

Then I think I got hungry and made myself some eggs (The Dandy¬†didn’t want any) and ate them in the living room because it had seemed like he might go back to sleep and I didn’t want to disturb him.

He ended up coming out to the living room to keep me company, though. And I finished my food and I can’t remember what we were talking about but it segued (smoothly, not a non-sequitur) into him saying “you can jump me if you want.”

I once again made an awkward speech. What I was trying to do was convey that I wasn’t all that attracted to him so anything I did with him sexually would probably be out of curiosity but then I’d quickly get bored. Except that would be a terrible thing to say to someone so I sugarcoated it and maybe the meaning was lost. I think I said something like “I tend to get interested in people for a really brief time and then it kinda runs its course, and this makes me really cautious about engaging with people because I don’t want them to end up hurt.”

He smiled and said “warning taken.”

And I thought “Ahhh, fuck it” and straddled his lap and took my shirt off and kissed him. But jeez, that monotonous way he kisses. But he has such a pretty face, and he seemed so happy to be there with me.

We moved to the bedroom but somehow our sexual momentum got stalled and we ended up nonsexually¬†snuggling again, both of us just wearing boxer briefs. Finally I sheepishly said “Well, my libido seems to be AWOL. You wanna go back out there and watch some Netflix or something?”

He said “I need love and cuddles right now more than I need sex, anyway” and that’s when something¬†clicked for me and I realized that he hadn’t slept¬†over in order to fuck me¬†or¬†as a favour to me because he saw that I needed closeness. He’d offered to stay over and snuggle because he was as desperate for touch and closeness as I was. Probably he was interested in sex, too, but the snuggling was the most important thing.

We never did¬†go watch Netflix. We lazed around in bed cuddling and talking. Neither of us is shy about discussing personal things, so we talked about our failed marriages, his heart surgery, our childhoods – all kinds of stuff. We ended up lying head-to-toe somehow, me with my knees up, him with one of his arms between my thighs so that his hand rested just above my pubic bone. This felt perfectly natural and comfortable and then he started lightly moving that hand around a bit and that felt good, too. He lightly petted me through my boxers, not super-invasively¬†but like in the area where a person who shaved their pubes might leave a landing strip. I smiled and sighed and kind of half-moaned pretty much the whole time he was doing this (and unlike The Pedant, The Dandy looked into my face almost constantly while touching me so I know he was reading my signals). After a while he checked in with me: “Does this feel good or would you like me to stop?” I said it was good, and parted my legs to allow more access. His fingers traveled lower, grazing my clit and labia over and over again. ¬†I started to get turned on. And then I noticed that he was erect and that turned me on, too – that his erection was just a thing that was happening, and not a demand. He wasn’t drawing attention to it or trying to push it up against me. He just continued lying on his back, more-or-less still except for his hand that was petting me, only now he was pitching a tent.

Unfortunately I had to pee, and that broke the moment a little bit. When I returned I lay back down next to him, with my head by his head this time, and he continued stroking me and I¬†kind of almost managed to regain the mood. His fingers began hovering at the waistband of my boxers and I decided “Meh, what the hell” and took them off. A bit of caressing later, I had him bring out the Hitachi for me and tried to train him to use it. Shit, and here I thought The Pedant was not great at this – The Dandy was moving it in such a wide radius that he kept wandering off my clit entirely and repeatedly ended up pointlessly vibrating my mons, despite me pushing his vibrator-hand lower every time. I didn’t have a lot of patience for teaching him – I’m annoyed in general by how bad so many guys are at following simple directions in bed*¬†– so in fairly short order I took the Hitachi back from him and took care of business myself, relegating him to g-spot stuff. He continued staring into my face unwaveringly and I felt awkward and on display and also resentful over his inability to hold the damn vibrator in one spot and wiggle it, but with some difficulty I did manage to get off. It was a decent orgasm and it opened the floodgates to a huge stress-relief cry. He held me while I sobbed into his chest.

Then I decided the sporting thing to do was return the favour so I started groping the front of The Dandy’s boxers and eventually peeled them off him.¬†Hallelujah, his cock was uncut and within my ideal size range (uncannily similar to The Pedant’s cock, actually, right down to the leftward curve. And¬†I got a powerfully surreal feeling realizing that I know this about them and they surely don’t know it about each other, despite being friends. Just hanging around and talking with their almost-twin dicks lurking in their pants two feet away from each other).

The unfortunate thing is that The Dandy is not nearly as responsive¬†as The Pedant. And this is how I realized that a pretty cock is of considerably less interest to me when¬†touching it doesn’t produce any good sounds or reactions. I’d been debating letting The Dandy inside me, but his silence during my initial gropings made me decide that intercourse would likely be boring and pointless for me. I gave him a hand job instead, although he took over midway through for whatever reason. Turns out he takes forever to come, his orgasm is heralded only by a couple of audible breaths just before, and he’s a distance squirter. One minute I was cuddled up to the side of him, cheerleading his wank; the next minute the side of my torso was¬†drenched instantaneously like someone had thrown a glass of water on me. A few drops hit my face, as well. I squawked, startled, and then burst out laughing and The Dandy laughed, too. I was like “Damn, dude, you could have given me a heads up that you shoot that far!” He said he regularly hits himself in the face with it.

Snuggles and talking resumed, but I periodically made a show of squeegeeing newly-found motherlodes of semen off me with the side of my hand and then wiping them on The Dandy’s stomach. Which made us both laugh again.

Later we tried to get each other off again but it didn’t work.

Oh but before I forget, at some point during all our talking I mentioned that I’d tried being with women before but it never really worked for me. He said “Well, you can’t know you’re not¬†into it unless you try it.” I said I do actually think it’s possible for some people to know they’re straight without trying anything, and then I went off on a tangent about that. But later I realized the full implications of what he’d said and was like “Waitwaitwait back it up have you been with a guy before in order to determine that you’re straight?”


“Tell me that story!”

“Ehhh, I took him home and he went down on me but I just didn’t even feel anything and I knew then that I wasn’t into men.”

“Was he cute?”


I can’t tell you how hot it is to me that The Dandy said “yes” to that and not “I dunno I can’t tell these things grumble grumble straight grumble.” It’s hot even though I understand that he’s not into dudes at all. It’s the lack of dudebro posturing, I guess.

Oh also we were talking about past sexual experiences and it turns out he’s been both raped and sexually assaulted by women – he says he’s not particularly traumatized by it but he definitely thinks it was bullshit that the women in question just pushed themselves on him without asking. And we talked about how our culture dismisses male victims of sexual violence and how shitty that is. He seems more in touch and enlightened about rape-culture stuff than most guys are. I like it.

It was 9pm by the time The Dandy finally left. He was being kinda clingy and saying he had to go but not actually going for, like, three hours.

After he left I did the polite “thanks for a nice time” text and asked him to say hi to his kitties for me. The next day he responded saying he had, and adding, “So I assume you’d like to get together again?”

First off, The Pedant did the exact same thing back when we were broken up and I banged him for nostalgia’s sake – he said something like “So I assume we’ll be seeing more of each other from now on?” so that’s funny. I¬†wonder if their verbal tics are rubbing off on each other. Secondly though…you assume I want to do this again, Dandy? Why? Didn’t I give not one but two speeches about how I often make out with or fuck someone but then don’t really want to date them?

But I did enjoy most aspects of hanging out with him, so I said okay. I’m gonna go to his place and meet his cats on Wednesday night.

We’ll see where this goes but to be honest I think we’re really not sexually compatible – and possibly not even that attracted to each other – so I don’t expect that side of things to go on much longer. Hopefully if I end up having to be the one to say “let’s just be friends” he’ll be cool about it.


*Speaking of which, the moment I took my top off I told The Dandy “I don’t like my nipples touched but sideboob and underboob caresses are great.” He forgot about this and started twiddling around with one of my nipples¬†at least five times during the rest of his visit. I yelped and slapped his hand off me every time and he still just couldn’t seem to remember this simple, directly-stated, repeatedly-enforced preference. At one point he said “sorry, old habits die hard” and I pointedly said “Good thing I’m able to keep¬†my old habits from resurfacing, isn’t it?” (He knows I’m a sadist.)


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