So, hmmm. Let me see how much I can remember of The Pedant’s latest visit. I’m writing this on Sunday and he came over on Thursday so the details are already getting kinda fuzzy in my mind.
He was supposed to arrive at three o’clock, but an unscheduled errand came up and made him forty-five minutes late. I wasn’t particularly upset; he’s been pretty good about punctuality since we talked about it and in this case I wasn’t even meeting him somewhere, just lounging around at home waiting for him to visit, so it didn’t especially inconvenience me.
Once he was in my apartment The Pedant began methodically disrobing, stashing each item of his clothing in his knapsack so it wouldn’t get cat-furred. Then he sat on the couch and we made small talk for a bit. At some point in there I think I presented him with a little black LED flashlight I’d picked up at the dollar store; he’d mentioned wanting one. To say that his face “lit up” when I gave it to him would probably be an overstatement, but he seemed quite pleasantly surprised. It’s noteworthy to me that telling him he’s beautiful makes no impact at all, but he’ll perk up over receiving a cheap shiny doodad. I’m beginning to suspect that one of his primary Love Languages is Gifts (the other one being “touch,” or at least that’s my best guess. The Pedant himself has been no help at all in determining these things.).
And then I sat on the couch with him and we snuggled a bit and talked some more. To be honest I was wanting to jump The Pedant from the moment he walked in the door, but didn’t want it to seem like I’m only into him for the sex or whatever (and, okay, to a certain extent I worried that looking overeager would prompt him to make a snide little comment). But finally I gave up and started kissing him.
I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I love how slowly The Pedant warms up during sexytimes. I guess I must enjoy the challenge; it feels like he’s not pitching a tent just because there’s a chick present, he’s pitching a tent for me and the specific things I’m doing.
(By contrast, for the first few years that I was sexually active back in my teens, I never saw a dude’s penis half-erect; it was totally flaccid and then we’d start to kiss and it was just fully engorged with no apparent transition at all. I’m surprised the rush of blood flow didn’t break the sound barrier. I got to see more of the in-between stages once I got older, but it still often feels like when sexytimes are obviously about to take place, a dude just clicks over into “sex mode” – sometimes before we even start touching. Whereas The Pedant seems to need to be seduced/persuaded pretty much every time. And I do persuade him, with great success. Yay me. 🙂 )
The Pedant tends to sit on my couch like an actual couch while I sit next to him on my knees, facing the wall. It just feels like a more natural way to sit and talk to him. This is the configuration we were in when I lightly placed my mouth on his. I caressed his face as we made lip contact; when I felt him begin to melt into my kiss, I started slowly trailing my hand from his neck down the side of his torso to his waist and then back up again. I was careful not to make contact with his nipples; going right for the erogenous zones would have been far too unsubtle. For now I was simply letting The Pedant warm to my touch – which he did, his cock filling out slightly and his hips ever-so-gently beginning to rock in rhythm with his deepening breath. Only then did I start just occasionally letting my palm brush over his nipple on the way up or down his body, and circling my hand crosswise to graze the other one, too.
There’s something very first-timey about The Pedant, and I love it. By which I mean that every time we’re making out and my hand finally strays down to his cock, he gives a deep, frantic gasp that seems all out of proportion with what I’m actually doing. It reminds me of being a teenager and having partners get tremendously excited not so much because of the sensations I was giving them but more because OMG a girl is touching me “down there”! I can’t believe this is actually happening!!! And yeah, instead of beginning to directly target The Pedant’s nipples as I usually would at this juncture, I lightly ran my fingertips up the shaft of his penis just to hear that lovely, desperate, astonished sound he makes. He did not disappoint.
He reacted (and always reacts) with similar gusto when I gently pulled back his foreskin. I dunno, maybe it’s not a teenage-like excitement at merely being touched; maybe his penis is so sensitive that just lightly stroking it or exposing the head of it to the air in the room is this incredible gasp-worthy sensation. Either way, it’s tremendously hot.
The Pedant’s glans was all shiny-wet with pre-cum by this point, and I skated my fingertips around on the slippery surface for a moment just to hear his breathing pattern go all wonky. Then I turned my full attention to his nipples, touching/kissing/mouthing/licking them until his almost-imperceptible, somewhat self-conscious cooing noises turned to helpless unrestrained keening.
At this point I decided to give The Pedant a hand job right there on my couch. He seemed so turned on that I was hoping the momentum would carry him easily into orgasm (he so often seems to stall out and we end up giving up…). I kept kissing him and tonguing his nipples while I worked him with my hand, and although The Pedant was bucking and moaning and generally seeming really into it, at least ten minutes went by with no sign of an orgasm. Finally I said “We should move this to a room that has lube in it. Bed. Now.”
I’m a little fuzzy on what happened then. Either we went straight into the bedroom, or The Pedant waylaid me and we made out standing in my living room for a long while and then we went to the bedroom.
Once in bed, I think I started riding him. Or maybe I just continued the hand job. No, no, I’m pretty sure it was sex. Sex that went on for ages and ages and ages and The Pedant didn’t come and finally I rolled off him, saying my thighs needed a break, and we both dozed off for a bit.
When we woke up, we immediately began kissing and caressing again. The Pedant excused himself to the bathroom for a moment and when he came back I finished that hand job. I was lying against him propped on one elbow (so I could more easily bend and lick his nearest nipple) and at one point I put that forearm up under his jaw and shoved his head up and back, which elicited a huge burst of breathing and moans and I realized that having his head immobilized must be part of his kink for being tied up. I didn’t have him tied up at the moment, but restraining his head would go a long way toward preventing him from thrashing around – and being forced to hold still and endure the sensations is a big thing for him.
As he got closer and closer to coming, The Pedant did indeed try to escape the onslaught of sensation I was giving him, twisting his hips away from me and raising up his knees. I simultaneously forearmed his jaw again and flattened his legs with one of my thighs, snarling “down.” I’d like to think I genuinely overpowered him there – my legs are pretty strong – but it seems feasible that The Pedant was simply playing along. At any rate, my show of force seemed to push him over the edge and he howled and came resoundingly into my hand. Purrrrrrrrrrr.