Another thing I glossed over in my haste to obsess on The Pedant some more: my second date with The Baby Duck. We hung out in the park for a while and then moved the hangouts to my place.
On my couch, we were making small talk and I gave him my mini-rant about “politeness” usually being synonymous with “vagueness” and told him that sometimes people seem to dislike how direct I am. He said he likes directness and I can always feel free to say stuff to him outright. That was good to hear. Then I told him about that one scene in The Big Bang theory that I like, where the main character asks out his coworker and she’s like “Well, what’s the point of dinner and a movie if there doesn’t turn out to be any physical chemistry between us?” and she suggests that they forego the date and just kiss right then and there, to find out. And then there was a pause and The Baby Duck smiled at me and said “You wanna find out if we have any chemistry?” Which was not entirely a propos since we’d already kissed at the end of our first date, but I saw what he was getting at. I suggested he get rid of the gum he was chewing, and he did. And then there were makeouts.
Most people seem to experiences attraction as a binary thing; either they totally want to fuck someone, or they don’t want anything remotely sexual happening with them. I wish it were like that for me, but no: I get situations like with The Latent Heterosexual (whom I am attracted to in the sense that I feel a pull toward him, want to touch him, and constantly ogle his body when we hang out, but when we try to do stuff we can’t seem to muster any passion) or The Vixen (with whom I made out once and it turned me on, but I wasn’t interested in anything further). And now there’s The Baby Duck, where there’s some attraction and I really enjoy kissing him but so far it doesn’t turn me on per se, and I have no urge to see him naked.
And of course my good old rape culture training tells me that kissing is supposed to be kind of a downpayment on sex, so I feel like I should confess this horrible defect of mine to The Baby Duck – like, warn him that maybe I’ll never put out, or ask him if he’s okay with us just making out and nothing else, ever. But with my luck, if I say that, my attraction will end up growing over time and I’ll be like “Hey, I think I might be into other stuff, after all!” and I’ll feel like this wishy-washy chick who’s jerking him around.
I wanna be fully into him, dammit! He clearly likes me, he texts me on a regular basis and initiates outings and stuff, he’s a good communicator…when we were making out, he accidentally discovered that lightly caressing pretty much any part of my skin makes me all wriggly and gaspy, and he said – not sarcastically – “Wow, you’re so responsive to touch! That’s really exciting.” And he checked in with me frequently to make sure I was having fun, to ask where I’d like to be touched, etc. And when he asked me if I was ticklish, I actually had no fear at all of telling him yes-don’t-ever-poke-my-ribs-because-I-hate-it because I knew he’d abide by this and not get all intrigued and feint toward me in hopes of provoking a reaction. And indeed, my instincts were right: he simply thanked me for telling him and we went on with our lives.
Now I’m starting to wonder if I’m one of those people who’s Attracted To The Wrong Kinds of Guys. I didn’t think I was, but The Doll, The Latent Heterosexual, and The Baby Duck all look great on paper and even have some of the physical traits I usually love, and yet the lust isn’t really there. The only boy I want to bang the living shit out of right now is The Pedant, whose motivations are infuriatingly opaque to me a lot of the time and who I sometimes think is kind of an asshole*. Good lord, am I unattracted to the other dudes because they’re transparent and communicate well?
Ummmm. Huh. I would say that Minx was a good communicator (in the beginning of our relationship, when he was still making an effort) and he certainly wasn’t an abrasive asshole “alpha dog” type like The Pedant, and I still fell in love with Minx. So…for now, let’s say The Baby Duck et. al. are just random pheromonal misfires – “close but no cigar” boys. If I lust after a dude but then he starts being more communicative and this kills it for me, that’s when I’ll know I have a problem.
btw I’m going on a third date with The Baby Duck tomorrow. And y’know…my lack of crotch-tingles isn’t even really a dealbreaker for me…I think we could maybe have pleasant and fulfilling sex, anyway, just because he’s an awesome person (and has really awesome lips). I think my real problem is just that I’m pretty sure he likes me more than I like him and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. And I don’t know when to tell him it’s not gelling for me – do I wait a little longer just in case attraction kicks in later (it might! You don’t know!), or do I give a heads-up now before he becomes too invested?
In other dating news, I can’t remember if I mentioned it before but there’s an 18 year old on FetLife whose profile picture is extremely cute and who wants to be feminized and pegged. It took him nineteen days to answer my initial email, but then when I didn’t immediately send a response he sent a second email prompting me. When we made plans to meet he bailed the day of, but since then he’s been persistently asking to chat with me via IM so I decided his excuse for bailing must have been legit and he was indeed interested in getting to know me. But when I finally made time to chat with him tonight, it was like pulling teeth. I was carrying the entire conversation – I’d ask him something, he’d take forever to answer and then write me a single dead-end sentence, I’d wrack my brain for something else to ask, lather/rinse/repeat. Finally I told him outright that as cute and articulate as he is, and as much as I’d like to get to know him, carrying the entire conversation was getting tiring so I was gonna do something else. I told him that if there’s ever a better time to talk – like a time when he’s able to respond in a timely fashion and actually willing to ask me stuff about myself, maybe we can resume. And then I logged out.
Meanwhile The Pedant – as I mentioned a post or two ago – has asked to visit me this coming week. We agreed on Thursday. When I asked him what time he wanted to come by, he said “That depends. Are you working at all that day?” I said no, I was free, so any time from 2pm onward [I wake up around 1pm lately] would be fine. The Pedant texted me back “Cool. :)” and nothing else…which made me think he was just gonna drop by whenever he felt like it, which infuriates me (I have better things to do than wait by the door like a dog!). So I was all “Yeah, so what time were you thinking of? Ballpark. I want to know how long I can postpone laundering my sheets and getting groceries.” He replied, “By 3pm.” The fact that he’s evidently wanting to maximize his time with me – planning to arrive pretty much the second I said I was available – makes me squee for joy a little bit. I guess when I said I was free from 2pm onward and he said “cool” he meant “cool, that’s roughly the time I’ll aim for, then.”
I am absolutely going to have some kind of “what is the nature of this relationship” discussion with The Pedant when I see him. Fuck it. I have to know. And I’m prrrrretty sure(?) that if I say “dating-ish” and he says “just friendly fucking” he won’t get freaked out and bail or anything. I think he trusts me and takes me at face value, so if I tell him I can compartmentalize and keep things going just as they were before, he’ll believe me.
*”But it’s not like he’s an asshole with me!” a tiny, defensive voice inside my head protests. “Sure,” responds a more cynical voice, “But the fact that he’s sweet to you but comes off aloof and abrasive in general is – admit it – a big part of his appeal for you, and that’s probably not healthy. At any rate it never worked out well in the past.” At this point a third voice pipes up with “Gawd, you’re all squishy for this boy because you think you’ve tamed him and because you think he’s wounded and needs your help and understanding! That is so gross! What’re you, sixteen?”