I guess sexytimes started up pretty soon after The Pedant and I woke up, though I don’t remember precisely how. I do know that he gave me my turn at orgasm first…I remember him kneeling between my legs with the Hitachi, and me starting to say “Oh god…oh god…” and him smirking and saying “You keep pronouncing my name wrong.”
And I was like “Oh, sorry, I meant to say ‘smug bastard.’ Is that correct? Am I getting the accent right?” But I was smiling when I said it.
I think that’s when he continued pressing the vibrator into me after my orgasm and I stopped him and he said “Don’t have any more in you, huh?” and I explained that no, I wasn’t “done” per se, he just needs to pause for a bit before starting up again or else it’s too much. I’m fairly sure I’ve addressed this with him before; he loves the idea of giving a partner “forced orgasms,” and therefore tends to mash the Hitachi into me too hard and put it directly on the tip of my clitoris in hopes of triggering some huge screaming “O” whether I’m prepared for it or not, but my body does not work that way. Or, y’know…maybe someone could be capable of giving me “forced” or “surprise” orgasms, but that someone would be way better at reading body language than The Pedant is. Anyway, mashing the Hitachi into me right after I’d come had temporarily fried my circuitry and I was done for the time being.
Probably there was some snuggling and making out then. Oh! Yes. I remember him wrapping his fist around his cock and rubbing the tip near the entrance to my vag, and me saying “If you want in, I…think I’m okay with that” (knowing even as I said it that I shouldn’t be making this decision while turned on) and him backing off and saying “We’d probably better not,” which made me feel so trusting and grateful.
The next thing I remember is asking The Pedant if he wanted to be tied down, and him nodding. When I was younger I fantasized solely about physically forcing dudes to do things, but now I find that The Pedant freely offering his wrists and ankles to me for restraint is maybe the hottest thing in the world. It’s the trust, I guess. A guy who’s fighting not to be restrained is probably not a guy who trusts me or thinks particularly highly of me. The Pedant, by contrast, gives me each of his hands in turn so I can strap them down. I’ll usually set his hand on my hip as I buckle the leather restraint around his wrist, and he’ll give me an affectionate little squeeze. Sometimes just the act of me pulling his wrist or ankle toward me for restraining will make him gasp or moan a little bit. That’s the other thing about him doing this willingly: it allows us to savour the anticipation in a way we couldn’t if he were trying to fight me off.
Anyway, I strapped him spread-eagled to my bed and started giving him a hand job. I’m starting to think that if The Pedant’s breathing and sounds don’t escalate at a steady pace, it means he’s not gonna come at all – there doesn’t appear to be a mid-ground. This was seeming like one of those times where things weren’t gonna happen: The Pedant was breathing heavily and moaning and stuff, but kind of in a holding pattern. After a while of him squirming and moaning as I jerked him off, he said – in a breathy, helpless voice that went straight to my clit – “You can ride me bareback if you want…I couldn’t say no to you right now…”
But by this point I had my wits about me again, and it was my turn to keep us on track: I said “As tempting as it is to play let’s-take-advantage-of-the-hot-immobilized-boy, I’m not going to let you do anything you’ll regret.” But I did climb up and straddle his hips to continue the hand job, hoping that the weight of my body on him would remind him of sex and maybe help him get to orgasm. The position was awkward and made no appreciable difference in his body language though so pretty soon I dismounted and got beside him again.
“You can take me with your pussy if you want,” The Pedant invited me, again. “I couldn’t say no to you.” Arrrrrgh the idea of corrupting him into doing naughty things was so fucking hot. But I couldn’t. Not when he’d all but told me that he’d never bareback while in his right mind and was only considering it now because his judgement was compromised. So I stuck to my guns and just kept on going with the hand job – although I did tell him that we’d be able to bareback soon enough, and that it would be glorious and hot and slippery and etc., in order to make him moan.
After a while, his erection started getting a little bendy so I stopped jerking him – no asking for permission this time because goddammit he was obviously not going to come – and cuddled up next to him. In addition to today’s conversation about bladder issues and tiredness affecting sex, The Pedant has also previously mentioned in passing that sometimes he gets overstimulated (much like I do from overzealous Hitachi-ing, I would imagine) and can’t come because of that. So I decided to try backing off from his penis entirely for a while and coming back to it later to see if that made the difference.
The sex (and of course everything else about his visit) had made me feel extremely close to The Pedant, and I had an almost painful need to tell him so. I did not want to say “I love you” – I’ve been thinking it over and I’m not sure I do love him. Or at least I’m not ready to say that word to him. I feel like I’m hovering right on the edge of love, though, and that quite possibly if I knew he had feelings for me, too, then that would be the tipping point: I’d feel safe enough to let myself fall.
And yeah, the ideal time to share my feelings with The Pedant was probably not while his brain was all sex-stupid and he was tied up, but I needed to be a little sex-stupid, myself, to have the guts to say anything. It strikes me that The Pedant has a way thicker line between his sexual and nonsexual selves than other people do; I can barely connect the helpless, whimpering, dirty-talking boy in my bed with the very clinical and together dude who, say, sits across the table from me in restaurants. I feel the same affection for both versions of him, mind you – it’s just that I’d have a much harder time initiating an emotional conversation with Restaurant Boy.
So we lay there together, him tied to the bed with his eyes shut and me petting his chest and trying to figure out how to word my thoughts, and finally I quietly said in his ear, “I absolutely adore you. I hope you know that.”
This got no reaction at all. Not a change in his breathing, not a blink, not a smile, and certainly not a response in kind. This drove me insane. I wanted to know where I stood with him! What could I say that would prompt some kind of response (short of “Say something, goddammit!”)?
I rallied my courage again and said “I…might be falling for you a little bit. But if those feelings aren’t welcome, I think I can stop…” That’s pretty clear, right? I was asking him if he was okay with me having feelings for him or if I should try to rein them in. That would have been the time for him to say “No, it’s fine” or “Yeeeeah, you might want to hold that in check a little bit” or maybe (in an alternate universe), “I’m so glad you said that because I’m falling for you, too!” right?
Alas, no. Maybe The Pedant missed my cue because (I realized later) I didn’t actually put it in the form of a question, or maybe he didn’t want to reply for whatever reason, or maybe (but I think this is unlikely) he somehow didn’t hear me. At any rate, he still didn’t react. At all.
I kept slowly running my hand up and down his torso; he kept lying there motionless with his eyes closed. “You’re totally falling asleep right now, aren’t you?” I asked, and he said “No, just enjoying what you’re doing.” I wasn’t convinced, but when I started teasing his nipples with my mouth and fingers and then jerking him off again, he got hard immediately and I was able to get him off within minutes. So he was awake, and this is why I think he heard what I said to him perfectly well.
I’ll say this much: he must not have been too horrified by my little confession. Times that I’ve dropped a FeelingsBomb on a dude who didn’t dig me back, he got all weird with me and left as soon as possible. The Pedant, however, continued our visit as though nothing had happened – and even slept over an extra night. Plus he invited me to see a movie with him less than a week later. Plus he addressed my latest issue with him – the whole talking-too-much-about-other-women thing – with grace, telling me he doesn’t mean his comments as comparisons but will try to stop making them since it obviously bothers me, and asking me not to keep my upset bottled up so long in future. Plus there were the lovely texts this afternoon.
So it seems feasible that perhaps he cares about me a whole lot, too, but just isn’t very good at saying so with his words. Maybe? Hopefully?
Orrrrr, maybe he did fall asleep for a few minutes while I told him I was falling for him.
Orrrrrrrrrrr, maybe he doesn’t have the same level of feeling for me that I do for him, but he likes me (and the sex we have) enough that he doesn’t want to mess up the status quo by telling me – so he opted to just kind of ignore what I’d said and hope it would all just go away.
Like I said before, the next time I approach this, I’m gonna do so by outright asking him how he feels about me. That route will be much less likely to end in farce and uncertainty. But I’m gonna try to hold out for a while without saying anything. It really feels as though The Pedant has been growing closer to me lately: making himself more vulnerable, doing more sweet things, wanting to see me more often, making note of the things I like. I’m hoping this means he’s developing feelings of adoration for me in return, and I don’t want to spook him or derail the process by being too demanding. He knows (I think?) how I feel about him; he knows (I hope?) that it’s safe for him to open up to me and feel things back. So now I want to try to step back and give him room to blossom. If he’s going to.
More to come.