Continuing from where the last post left off:
After the sex, I unclipped The Pedant’s wrists from my headboard and he immediately rolled over and went to sleep. Surprisingly, so did I. We dozed off around 9:30pm and resurfaced simultaneously around 1am. The Pedant was like “Dammit. I was hoping to sleep right through the night.” I thought “From 9pm onward? What’re you, my grandpa?” but did not say this.
We decided that more soup and a Drawn Together season 3 marathon was in order. Plus snuggling, of course. Always snuggling.
By the time we finished the DVDs, it was 7am and we were both still awake. I declared that I was going to make some eggs for myself, and asked The Pedant if he wanted any. After a long silence, he said “…I’m trying to decide between food and sleep.” I hovered in the kitchen doorway for a minute but he didn’t say anything else. I put on enough eggs for just me and when I peeked back into the living room The Pedant had dozed off on the couch, so I left it at that.
I like having The Pedant here, and feel that sleepovers are a good oeuvre for him (I wouldn’t want to have marathon sex with him only to have him leave immediately after) but in some ways all that together-time can be a bit too intense for me. So, it was nice to sit in my quiet bedroom eating my eggs and surfing the ‘net while The Pedant slumbered away in the next room.
When I finally felt tired enough to try to sleep, I was faced with a small dilemma: do I wake The Pedant and usher him into bed with me? I don’t sleep well when he’s next to me, and what’s the etiquette here, anyway? Would it be rude to wake him? Would it be rude to let him continue sleeping elsewhere? Who says he’s supposed to sleep next to me, anyway? It’s not like he’s my husband. And it seems like he deliberately chose to fall asleep where he did, and the last time he was here he was also totally about to sleep on the couch when I told him to come crash on the bed with me instead. So maybe he doesn’t even like sleeping next to me. Except that when he did come to bed last time, he ended up holding me all night long, which seems like something you do when you like someone being there. But if he’s got an autism spectrum disorder then maybe he only sleep-snuggles me because he thinks it’s what people are supposed to do?
Ultimately I decided to let The Pedant stay on the couch – I was working the following evening and needed my sleep. But I ended up sleeping badly anyway because part of me worried that he’d wake up and feel offended that I’d left him out there, or that he’d come in and clamber over me/bear hug me and this would wake me up.
He didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, though. Or if he did, he didn’t come into the bedroom. When I woke up, he was still on the couch and appeared to be fast asleep. I tiptoed into the kitchen to get an orange, then went back to the bedroom to eat it while I checked my email and stuff.
After a while, I heard The Pedant stirring and went out to bid him good morning. “Apparently I fell asleep on your couch,” he said. It seemed kind of odd to me that he was acting so confused; hadn’t he actively chosen to sleep there? Then again, he’s one of these people who can fall asleep instantly. Maybe he was intending to move to the bed if he chose sleep over food, but just kinda blacked out instead.
We exchanged a few more pleasantries and then he lifted the blanket up (revealing acres of lovely furry naked Pedant-ness) and gestured for me to get underneath it with him. Makeouts ensued, becoming more and more heated until finally he said “I’m going to go to the bathroom, and then you can take me to bed.”
When we met again in the bedroom, more makeouts and mutual caressing ensued. I told The Pedant I craved his fingers on my g-spot, and I’m not sure if he misheard me or what but he just stroked my vulva – no finger penetration. After a while he said “You can tie me up if you want” and I told him “No, for now I prefer your hands free.” That’s when he finally put his fingers inside me as I’d requested; maybe he just needed an indication that I wanted it to be my turn to receive attention this time.
The Pedant spent a good long time working me with his fingers – getting up from his spot next to me to kneel between my legs for a better angle – and eventually added the Hitachi Magic Wand to the mix. For some reason g-spot stimulation can sometimes short-circuit my orgasms; I felt myself about to come, and even went over the edge, but then…nothing. The orgasm just freaking vanished. I hate when that happens. But we kept going and I had a proper one a few minutes later. And maybe a second one, too; I can’t remember now. And then I just lay there, giggling and convulsing with aftershocks, breathlessly staring at the ceiling.
“Good one?” The Pedant asked.
I nodded. Actually, the physical sensations of orgasm (which are how I tend to measure whether or not it was “good”) had not been super strong, but the brain chemistry part had; I was left balanced right on the slender knife-edge between hysterical laughter and rending sobs, and feeling very close to The Pedant. So I rounded up the orgasm from “average” to “good” for simplicity’s sake.
“The problem,” I said finally, still shaking and shaken, “is that a good orgasm tends to make me feel violent. And I suspect you don’t want to be treated as roughly as I kind of want to treat you.”
“No, I don’t,” The Pedant said mildly (damn. I’d been hoping he’d disagree).
I pulled him on top of me and wrapped my arms and legs around him in a vicelike grip, trembling and growling and clutching at him until my post-orgasmic rush began to fade. What I really wanted was to belt The Pedant in the face and bite his shoulders black-and-blue – probably in-between passionate kisses – but he’d been clear that this wouldn’t be kosher so this was my compromise. As before, my feral side seemed to slightly awe The Pedant, who gently (perhaps reverently) petted my back and arms until I subsided and loosened my grip on him.
And then I decided it was The Pedant’s turn to be the focus of attention. “Tell me what you want me to do to you,” I said.
“I’d like you to tie me up and play with me for a bit,” The Pedant murmured.
So, on went the cuffs again…and this time I also bound The Pedant’s ankles together using bondage tape. It never ceases to intrigue me how viscerally he reacts to the slightest hint of bondage; the moment I grabbed his ankle so I could lift it and begin applying the tape, The Pedant gave one of his now characteristic arousal-whimpers. His eyes were closed, mind you, and he had no idea what I was doing*; it was just my hand encircling his ankle that did this to him.
Once The Pedant’s wrists were secured to the bed and his ankles were bound together, I started slowly and gently jerking him off. My intent was to get him going and then start fucking him, and I guess he had the same idea because he asked “Would you like me inside you again?” (I’m really liking the unobtrusive way he asks for things. Not “I want to fuck you” or even “I want to be inside you” but “would you like me inside you.” It’s a small but crucial difference: he’s making it about what I want instead of what he wants.)
So I put a condom on him and rode him for a while, and once again the feel of his cock inside me got me all riled up so I dismounted and took a little Hitachi break, this time lying next to The Pedant. His arms were immobilized so he couldn’t participate much; still, every time my moans began to peak he craned his head over to kiss me.
I came two or three times and then returned my attention back to The Pedant. I debated climbing aboard for more sex, but when I’d dismounted to have my orgasms, the condom had rolled way up and was barely clinging to him so I’d taken it off. I was too cheap/lazy to get out another one, so hand job ahoy. Watching him touch himself that time was a great help; I’d learned that he likes a slower stroke and gentler touch than most guys I’ve been with. So, I emulated what I’d seen him do, and it worked! He came! And in a totally average amount of time! I felt validated.
I can’t attribute his orgasm entirely to my burgeoning hand job skills, though. I think a big part of it is that I’d already come a number of times. The Pedant has made it clear that his partners’ pleasure is very important to him – probably more so than his own pleasure. He’s also indicated that he likes the idea of being “used” sexually. All of which made me suspect that a) if I abruptly stopped fucking him in order to attend to my own needs, he’d find it hot, not rude or frustrating and b) It would probably be easier for him to come once he knew that I’d already been satisfied. I figured him for the kind of guy who wouldn’t let himself get off until after his partner did, and I think I called it correctly.
After that bout of sexual fervour, we had about two hours before I had to leave for work. I made us some salmon fillets and salads, which we ate on the couch. Then we showered together, taking turns scrubbing each other with the shower puff he’d brought me before.
The Pedant had an errand to run in the same direction as my job, so we travelled together. Public transit was crowded, and I ended up getting a seat while The Pedant stood next to me. I’m never sure of The Pedant’s stance on public displays of affection; he’d told me once not to be openly affectionate with him if we bumped into each other at a club**, but this wasn’t a nightclub; it was a public transit route on which we were unlikely to see anybody he knows. Also, the no-affection rule was a long time ago and may have changed. But I never asked, and so I tend to err on the side of caution. Still, I couldn’t resist giving the back of his hand a subtle, affectionate little nuzzle with the back of my hand – and he nuzzled back immediately and ended up idly playing with my fingers for the remainder of the trip. So sweet.
Make no mistake: I have very stringent views on what romantic love is, and to me it involves (among other things) deep talks and a strong intellectual connection. The Pedant and I do not engage in the level of talking and sharing that I associate with falling in love. However, I find him astoundingly beautiful to look at and our sexual chemistry is good; also, he snuggles me lots and does little things to make my life easier – two things that are basically guaranteed to melt me. All of which makes me feel as though I’m on the tremulous edge of falling for him, even though I’m not (no, really, I’m not).
Mostly I think I’m just a sucker for the attention he’s giving me. I totally need that right now. It’s nice. 🙂
*Also, he didn’t know that I own bondage tape and – it turns out – he had never actually heard of bondage tape, so there’s no way he could have known what I was up to.
**He had an ex that he desperately wanted back; I think he wanted to seem perpetually available just in case she had a change of heart.