I don’t think The Pedant has any idea how much I want him.
Comedian Larry Miller has a bit that goes something like “ladies, if you knew how we [men] think about you, you’d never stop slapping us.*” Yup, that’s about how I feel. I think I’m over feeling like I love The Pedant or want anything from him aside from regular, friendly sex and companionship, but that sex has me hooked. Hooked. On Monday, when I had ten or twelve orgasms in his presence? I ended up getting myself off another two times after he’d gone, before going to sleep. And I’ve been hungrily remembering his body and its delicious responses ever since.
I know it’s partly Frisk Week** and sexual chemistry talking and not purely aesthetics (if I wasn’t such a horndog and if he wasn’t so much fun in bed, I might not be so attracted to him), but The Pedant is just the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Even a dozen orgasms couldn’t take the edge off – I was totally sexually sated and still when The Pedant came into the room fresh out of the shower I had to restrain myself from licking all the water droplets off him. Grrrrrr fresh clean wet beautiful boy…
I want to assimilate all of his pretty. I want to literally eat him. I wanna slit him open like a fuckin’ tauntaun and crawl inside.
Hmmm…maybe it’s best he doesn’t understand the full extent of my attraction.
*See, chicks have no idea that men have sexual thoughts. How could we, when we don’t have sexual thoughts? Also, we’ve never been told that men are helplessly libido-driven horndogs who are only after one thing – I mean it’s certainly not a ubiquitous and culturally supported stereotype or anything. So we just bumble along through life assuming that the most any guy wants is to chastely kiss us on the cheek. Boy, would we ever be shocked to realize the truth!
**The week before my period, when my hormones make me want to fuck. A lot.