I’m drawing a total blank on how The Pedant and I got from the talking to the sexytimes, but we did. I’m guessing there was a pause in the conversation and I just pounced on him.
We wound up in our usual pattern of me straddling him and reducing him to a whimpering puddle – except this time his hands were free and he would sometimes stroke my back and sides, which I liked – and I got turned on enough that I announced “I want to fuck you.”
The Pedant, as has been mentioned, is not a talker in bed. When he gets really aroused, I’m not sure he remembers how to talk. Also, he probably took my statement as rhetorical…at any rate he didn’t respond whatsoever. I took his silence as consent – although I made somewhat of a long, loud production of retrieving a condom from the night table so he’d have time to process what I was doing and maybe say “no,” after all.
Pedant remained silent; condom went on; Cowgirl began to ride. I hadn’t bothered restraining him this time, so his hands were on my hips, which I liked. Sometimes he would grasp my hips and move me up and down on his cock, which – contrary to what you might think – I also liked. The idea that a guy is so desperate to come that he’ll use my body like a toy can be hot, under very specific circumstances.*
Once again, The Pedant was taking forever to come and the sex was rapidly losing its savour for me. I had hoped to give The Pedant “his turn” first and then take mine, but I’m pretty sure he’s one of those guys who thinks being a good lover means always coming last – I began to wonder whether he was actually holding back on purpose for my benefit. At any rate, my thigh muscles were screaming in pain so I told him “Okay, how about this: we take a break from the sex, you insert a couple of fingers into me and help me get off, and then I’ll get you off in whatever way you want.” He nodded and we reconfigured ourselves so that I was on my back and he knelt between my legs.
Initially, The Pedant simply stimulated my g-spot while I tried to wank manually (I told him my dependence on the Hitachi kind of worried me and I wanted to see if I could do without it). That wasn’t doing much for me, so The Pedant took over the external stimulation, too – he does this thing where one or two of his fingers are inserted and the backs of the remaining fingers are on the outside grinding into my clit somehow – and that got me even more turned on but was definitely not going to get me off. I told him I’d like to feel his mouth on me, and he said his nose was a bit stuffed up that day so he’d rather not (cheap excuse? He didn’t seem stuffed up…). Finally I caved and reached for the Hitachi, which The Pedant promptly grabbed and administered on me himself in tandem with the finger penetration.
And oh my god I came so hard. There aren’t even words. I’m pretty sure I was ear-splittingly loud; I’m pretty sure I was bucking and thrashing like a person being electrocuted to death. The Pedant reached up and lightly-but-firmly grasped my throat, which was odd and unexpected (the gesture had no practical purpose, like covering my mouth would have, and being grasped by the neck seems kind of submissive and he knows I don’t swing that way). But I perversely enjoyed it, just as I’d perversely enjoyed him clamping his hand over my mouth a few visits before. I think I know where that’s coming from: orgasming makes me feel feral and violent, and if The Pedant won’t let me strike out at him, struggling against him seems like the next best thing. Either way I’m exerting force against his body; either way I’m letting off the burst of furious energy that seizes me.
The Pedant kept the Hitachi on me after I orgasmed, but I could tell pretty quickly that I wouldn’t be coming a second time; the first one had turned my brain inside out and left my nerve endings all sensitive and raw. I managed to whisper that I needed a break, and The Pedant set the Hitachi aside, rolled me on my side, and came up behind me to spoon me. I was growling and shuddering and clutching at his arms and having giggle fits at random intervals (something about g-spot stimulation unlocks this huge reservoir of emotions in me almost every time…). At length I rolled over so I could bury my face in his chest. I caught a glimpse of his face and his expression was incredibly raw and intense. I wondered if that was why he’d manoeuvred me so I faced away from him – so the moment wouldn’t become even more emotionally intimate than it already was. Maybe this was his way of keeping me at a slight distance.
I struggled to get myself together; there were still The Pedant’s needs to take care of. After a few minutes I raised my face from his chest-fur and said “The question now becomes…what can we do for you?”
There was a long pause, I suspect because The Pedant isn’t used to communicating his needs directly and had to push past some embarrassment. Finally he said “Well, you’re welcome to tie me down and use your hands and mouth on me like you did last night…”
Oh, man. I know I’ve said this before, but the unassuming way The Pedant asks for things just melts me. Also, the way he words things turns me on…fairly direct, but not clinical or crude. Rawr.
So of course I burst into a grin and immediately busted out the wrist and ankle restraints. And what followed basically was a repeat of the night before, except with less semen because I’d previously drained his supply. Seriously, there’s no point in writing out a description because I’d be using all the same descriptors and hashing out the same exact series of events. I will take this opportunity to gloat one more time over the way he panics and struggles when he gets close to coming, though. That’s a relatively new thing; he didn’t do it before, when I only had the means to restrain his wrists but not his ankles. I assume he feels free to let himself go now that I can fully strap him down so he can’t hurt anyone/fall off the bed/etc. I love the idea that I’m giving him scary-intense sensations and forcing him to live through them.
After I’d cleaned both of us up and let him out of the restraints, The Pedant bashfully said “Well. Thanks for that.” And then, as he almost always does after he’s come, he cuddled up to me and fell asleep like someone had flipped a switch. I fell asleep, too, eventually. We had a very pleasant evening nap.
*I have to trust him; the sex itself has to be consensual; the moving-me-around has to be so gentle as to almost seem instinctive, like maybe he doesn’t even know he’s doing it…there may be other factors I’m not thinking of, too.