So yeah…The Pedant and I met up last night at a nightclub and he came home with me afterward and didn’t leave until about 10pm today.
Although I’d made these plans by noticing that The Pedant would be at this particular club (he RSVP’d on Facebook) and saying “I was thinking of going there, too. Wanna crash at my place afterward?” he sort of acted like he was my date, which was nice. I mean he offered to meet me at my place so we could head over together (I declined*) and when we finally did find each other at the club he gave me many long hugs hello and said “It’s good to see you” with a big mushy grin on his face. Also, although he did go off to talk to other people at times (he knows everyone ever) he kept on touching base with me throughout the night.
By the time we got back to my place, I was exhausted from the unaccustomed exercise of shaking my groove thing. Also, I was tired and my right calf was all crampy and sore – I’d posed for an art class that morning on very little sleep and one of the poses messed my leg up somehow. I debated telling The Pedant that I wasn’t up for any sexual shenanigans, and wondered how disappointed he’d be; is that the only reason he’d come over?
Before I could bring myself to say “I think I’m not up for anything strenuous tonight,” though, The Pedant moved in on me and started kissing me and my body responded so fast that I decided I was good to go, after all.
I am very much wondering whether he’s a total submissive/bottom who learned to fake a certain kind of sexual bravado because that’s what the chicks seem to dig. A lot of his moves seem hilariously suave and clichéd – like he learned them from movies – but then once things get underway that all goes out the window and he ends up underneath me whimpering and seeming more-or-less helpless.
Case in point: I was in the kitchen turning off the slow cooker (the chicken was done) when The Pedant seized my face in his hands and gave me a mouth-devouring kiss while slowly backing me up against the counter (and bending me backward to the point where my back and neck hurt). He started taking my clothes off without breaking the kiss. I suppose these are all things a person might do naturally, but trust me – when The Pedant does them he reeks of trying to impress
me some stereotypical girl with his mad skills. I always hear about women (as a monolith) wanting a dude who’s commanding but sensual at the same time; a dude who takes all the initiative and control in an encounter while making it all about his partner’s pleasure. The Pedant’s seduction style consciously and deliberately hits all of those marks**.
So anyway, The Pedant – kissing me the entire time – was slowly guiding me from the kitchen to the living room and had my hoodie and t-shirt off when I broke away and said I was gonna just hop in the shower for a minute because I felt sticky from all the dancing before.
Tangent: The Pedant and I are still in that stage where we kinda have to work up to nudity with each other; after sex we’ll hang out naked, but when he first arrives at my apartment, clothing is doffed gradually and always while we’re right up close to each other. But his manly-man sexual bravado was vaguely irritating me and I wanted to one-up him, so when I announced my intention of showering, I stripped off my remaining clothes while looking him calmly in the eye. Then I swaggered off to the bathroom naked, knowing damn well The Pedant’s eyes were on me and also knowing damn well that he wouldn’t have had the nerve to strip down that way in front of me (he was still fully clothed by this point, btw – I liked the idea of being the focus of all the sexual attention, so I was letting him undress me and touch me without doing any of it back).
After I’d showered, I went into the bedroom to find The Pedant naked. Like last time, he seemed slightly hesitant and jittery about his nudity; like last time, he kind of peeked around the edge of the doorframe to ascertain that I was approaching and then quickfast intercepted me. Maybe he’s self-conscious about me getting a good look at him from far back, I don’t know. This time when we kissed I backed him up from the doorway to the bed. Pushed him down. Got on top of him.
By this point I’d abandoned my previous idea of lying back and being the centre of attention; I was in the mood to be a bit more active. I’d kinda hoped the touching and pleasure would be a little more mutual than it ended up being, though – the moment I straddled The Pedant he went totally passive. If I kissed him, he’d kiss back (sometimes not even that! A few times he just kept his mouth wide-open-but-motionless and I’d lick and bite one lip at a time!), but otherwise he lay there with his eyes shut and his arms flung out to the sides, just basking in the way I was touching him.
I have to say, the loosely-flung arms bothered me. My friend Red used to date a guy who would “starfish” like that during sex – it turned out the guy was an adult baby, deliberately lying under Red in an awkward sprawl the way a baby lies in its crib. I’m 100% positive The Pedant is not an adult baby, mind you. I just didn’t love being reminded of one at that moment. It also bothered me that I was right there and naked but he was choosing not to touch me. I opted to grab The Pedant’s wrists and pin them over his head, thus removing both problems and bringing forth a pretty spectacular moan.
And here’s the thing – as I continued kissing The Pedant, he would periodically flex his wrists against my grip. Not truly fighting me – I’m sure if he’d wanted to free himself, he could’ve tossed me off him like I was nothing – it’s more like he got a little thrill out of feeling my resistance. I’ve had a lot of subs do this when I was holding them down. And so I indulged The Pedant by leaning hard on his wrists every time he tried to move, and he gave me his now-trademark little whimper every time. Initially he told me he likes to be tied down during sexytimes because he has a tendency to flail in pleasure and doesn’t want to hurt anyone; I call bullshit on this. I have never, ever seen him flail or try to flail. The way he gently pushed against my restraining hands was completely controlled and deliberate.
Pretty soon after that, the muscles in the sides of my ass began to cramp from straddling/humping The Pedant so I stated that I needed to change positions. Somehow we ended up with him on his back and me cuddled up to his side with one arm under his neck, looking slightly down at him – exactly the reverse of when he’s given me hand jobs. And indeed, in that moment I did feel (awesomely!) like I was the stereotypical dude and he was the stereotypical chick. He was just kind of passively spread out below me, eyes shut, lips parted, making a stream of soft little sounds as I explored his body. Suddenly I was the sensual-but-in-control person that he always tries to be. At one point I was wrapping my bottom arm around his neck to stimulate one of his nipples, craning down to lick the other, and roaming my free hand over every sensitive spot of his that I could reach. He got all breathy and turned on when I put my finger in his belly button, of all things. He also enjoyed it when I raked my nails over his stomach and thighs. When firmly squeezing and tugging his balls seemed to get a happy reaction, I really started to think he had a submissive/bottom/masochistic side. But here’s what took the cake, for me: at one point I kind of cradled his jaw in my hand in order to kiss him, and the light pressure of my hand wrapped across his throat made him do a happy-whimper! And he whimpered with more gusto when I tightened my grip. Annnnnd suddenly I was so wet I could have just about slid off the bed.
After an hour or more of relentlessly tormenting all of The Pedant’s erogenous zones (that I knew of), I figured surely to god he’d be warmed up enough to come – and was probably dying to – so I strapped the wrist restraints on him, clipped them to the corners of the headboard, put a condom on him and climbed aboard. I kept on playing with his nipples (which appear to be his number one favourite spot) as I fucked him. And/or I’d kiss him. And/or reach back and play with his balls. And/or very lightly choke him. And The Pedant was moaning and squirming and thrusting back at me (and, once, got carried away and bit my lip – which earned him a slap in the face and a “don’t be uppity.”) but he didn’t orgasm. I fucked him slightly past the point where it wasn’t fun for me anymore, and then I disembarked and switched to using my vibrator on him, which had worked before. But after a while of that he asked me to stop.
So I turned off the Hitachi and sat there petting his thigh, befuddled and hoping he would tell me what he needed in order to get off, or that he would at least tell me “Sorry, I’m having an off day, let’s give up” or something, but knowing he probably wouldn’t.
(This is the thing about The Pedant: he’s accustomed to sexytimes happening in a complete absence of communication or feedback. I can feel the expectation of silence in him the minute things start up. I think it’s because the archetypal sensual-and-in-control-manly-man never asks for or gives directions. I’m kind of shocked he even told me to stop with the vibrator – I suspect the stimulation was hurting by then and otherwise he would have grimly stuck with it.)
The Pedant said “I think it’s time to let me out” (of the restraints). I said “I think you should say ‘please'” (taking a chance, there; The Pedant knows I’m dominant but still made a bullshit excuse why he likes to be restrained. I didn’t figure he’d want to do something as openly submissive as begging) but against all odds, he did softly say the word “please” to me. I swear that sound of that word from him made my kegel muscles twitch. 😀
When I unclipped The Pedant’s wrists, he immediately rolled on top of me and assumed his manly-man persona again, kissing me authoritatively. Pretty soon he grabbed another condom and knelt between my knees to put it on…but evidently couldn’t get erect enough to make it work and couldn’t or wouldn’t jerk off in front of me to fluff it up, so he surreptitiously tossed the condom aside and put a couple of his fingers inside me instead (which I craved more than intercourse just then, anyway). Then he added the Hitachi to the mix. For some reason my first orgasm fell flat – I kind of got the brain chemicals and the relaxation but not the pleasure – but I rallied myself and managed to have two decent ones. Sometimes my orgasms “misfire” when there’s too much buildup – and I would say that hours of foreplay and sex constitute buildup. I mean, I like foreplay and sex, but half an hour or so is plenty most of the time.
Afterwards, The Pedant asked me “So, did you manage to come at least a couple of times during all that?” which puzzles me because seriously, I am not subtle when I come. I said “was it not obvious…?” and he hemmed and hawed and I put him out of his misery and told him yes, that counted as maybe two and a half orgasms (the “half” being that initial misfire). It only occurs to me now that his confusion might be an autism thing (The Pedant thinks he has some form of autism spectrum disorder). Maybe he really can’t tell from my body language/breathing/banshee screams that I’ve orgasmed.
We fell asleep with him still wearing the wrist restraints. I thought they looked hot so I didn’t bother taking them off him.
*Whether or not The Pedant ended up clubbing, I had decided that I wanted to go – and I didn’t want to possibly end up going alone. So, I’d invited my friend The Social Worker to come out with me and I considered him my platonic “date” and the first person I had responsibilities toward.
**Somehow, it still hasn’t occurred to him that a dominant like me wouldn’t be into that style. Yeah, okay, it’s sort of fun when he decides to shift sexual positions by picking me up and moving me (I think it’s the sheer novelty of someone being able to move me around like that) but for fuck’s sake stop propelling me around backwards and stop ignoring the stuff I tell you about my body and just doing what you think I need.