…And now, from the beginning.

The Pedant spent the night recently, and I skipped ahead in my posting to tell you the best part of that visit, but here’s the rest for posterity.

He arrived at my apartment half an hour later than he said he would – without even texting me a heads up – but I let it slide.  We were slated to haul a bunch of heavy/awkward things to the new store where I’m gonna sell my art; I told The Pedant I had some “sugar water” [soda] in my fridge if he wanted to take one for the road, but he said he was good for now – without even questioning why I suddenly had beverages on hand (I usually don’t have anything to drink in the apartment but tap water).  I wondered how long it would take him to figure out that I was trying to do him a favour, and whether I’d ultimately have to spell it out for him.  That would be awkward.

We hauled my shit to the store and he was quite helpful in setting it up with me.  The Pedant has a bit of a “mansplainy” vibe to him sometimes (and I think I’m a little extra annoyed by this sort of thing lately because I’ve been reading the archives of this blog) but he does listen to my ideas and admit when I’m right.  From what I can tell, my abstract thinking/sense of spatial relations is just as good as his is, because we had about an equal number of times where one of us was going to do something a certain way and the other was like “actually…”

The biggest frustration of the afternoon happened when we were trying to hang a shelf on the wall of my booth.  Turns out there’s brick underneath the drywall, which for some reason my drill went through just fine when I’d put up the first two shelves a few days previous, but on that day it was just a clusterfuck.  The first hole was too shallow and I couldn’t force the drill into the wall any further; the second hole I drilled, the bit deflected off the edge of a joist or something and the drill skidded sideways, making a big wide slot in the wall instead of a hole.  The third hole wasn’t lined up where it was supposed to be and I don’t fucking know why because I’d measured carefully.

We patched up the shitty useless holes in the wall.  The store owner told us he has a brand new power drill that can go through brick, and if we’d mark off where to drill, he’d be happy to install the shelf for me once the patching compound was dry.  It’s funny – I’d assumed, on some level, that my previous holes had ended up in the wrong spots because Girls Can’t Measure.  I hadn’t realized I was thinking this, but I totally was.  Only when The Pedant painstakingly measured out a bunch of marks (taking forever, I might add) and I held the shelf up and the marks were clearly still a little bit off did I realize that nope, dudes are not necessarily better at any of this stuff.  Not even when they seem really confident and commanding and talk a good game like The Pedant does.

But, like I said, The Pedant takes correction well, so when I said “This still doesn’t seem to match up” he just went “Crap” and measured it again.  And then I showed the store owner my shelf and the screws and anchors and the marks where the holes needed to go, and the owner was like “I will totally take care of this for you,” and then The Pedant and I left, taking the wooden folding chair I’d brought with me last time (the owner had said there wouldn’t be any tools or anything for me to borrow, so I assumed that also meant no stepladder – and the place has 9′ ceilings).

While we waited for a bus, some random lady admired the folding chair (which The Pedant was currently holding) and asked where I’d gotten it.  I told her Ikea, and we had a brief conversation about it before she turned away and resumed just waiting for the bus.  At which point The Pedant noticed that the underside of the chair had the Ikea logo stamped on it and said “Oh.  It is from Ikea.”

I raised an eyebrow at him and said “Yes, I know that: I bought it there.”

The Pedant said something along the lines of “No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just never knew they stamped information onto some of their furniture like that.”  Fair enough.

I like that I’m standing up to The Pedant more, though.  He did tell me pretty much from the start that he’s probably on the autism spectrum and as such he’s sort of immune to offence and hints, and I should just tell him shit straight out without worrying about seeming harsh or rude.  It’s only lately that I’ve really been trying to take that advice rigorously, though.  A few times recently he interrupted me mid-sentence because he misinterpreted the point I was making and I just held up my hand and said “No, I’m going somewhere with this” and he subsided.  The chair thing didn’t perturb him in the slightest, and neither did a few other, similar things that happened this visit – if anything, he seemed to enjoy me challenging him.

Back at my place, with a few hours before the nightclub thing we were going to attend, I got in the door and stripped to the waist, since getting immediately naked seems to be our thing.  But The Pedant was just kinda hovering in the front hallway like he wasn’t sure what to do, and this in turn made me feel weird about continuing to undress, so I simply puttered around topless as nonchalantly as possible, picking Bastardcat up for snuggles and telling The Pedant the various things I could make for dinner.  He chose trout, so I put some on to cook and when I got back from the kitchen he had opened up the folding chair in my hallway and was just…sitting in it, still fully dressed.  How is it that we’ve been fucking for like six months (and, as it turns out, we even have feelings for each other) and there’s still such a palpable sense of “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here” between us?  Sure, we never directly discussed the parameters of our relationship, but I’ve told him outright that I think he’s beautiful and I’m crazy attracted to him and I’m falling for him, so that should be a pretty big sign that it’s always okay for him to get naked with me ASAP and he doesn’t have to sit around being awkward about it.  But then again The Pedant by his own admission is not great at reading signs.

Finally The Pedant got naked – but, hilariously, once he’d taken off his shoes and socks, he darted into the bedroom to take off the rest of his clothes out of my eyeline (there is no logistical reason for him to do this) and then nervously peeked around the doorframe for a split second before stepping into full view.  I was lounging on the couch by then, propped up on one elbow and still wearing my jeans and socks, and The Pedant came over and slid behind me to spoon me.  “Hi there,” I said, and I craned my head awkwardly around to kiss him.  He took my friendly hello-smooch and extended it into a different animal entirely.  I didn’t want to interrupt the kissing but I also kind of didn’t think I could stand to have my neck at that angle for too much longer.  Fate intervened: I realized it was probably about time to flip the trout over, and I excused myself to do that.

When I came back, I got on the couch facing The Pedant like usual and we kept on making out.  By the time I had to get up and turn off the stove, things had escalated to the point where I was juuuust starting to play with his erection.  I poked my head back into the room and said “food first?  Or bed?”  The Pedant said we should probably eat.  I threw together some salads to go with the fish and when I brought the plates into the living room, The Pedant had totally dozed off.

I nudged him awake, we ate, and then we moved to the bedroom and started gettin’ it on.  I ended up riding him (with his wrists and ankles not tied down, for a change) and it was pretty fun but he was nowhere near coming and I ultimately stopped and just lay on him for a while, resting my poor tortured thigh muscles.

At which point The Pedant whispered “would you like my mouth on you?”  Um YES PLEASE.

For some reason, The Pedant tends to ignore my stated prerequisites for having an orgasm.  By chance, this time around he put me in a position where one of my legs was out more-or-less straight (instead of throwing my legs over his shoulders, pushing my knees up to my chest, or spreading my legs as wide as they’ll go).  Having my legs straight and somewhat close together is one of the things I need in order to come (if I’m on my back, anyway), so The Pedant’s oral skills got me way closer than they ever had before.  It also helped that he’d slid two fingers inside me – I really needed that at the moment.

But I just couldn’t quite “get there,” and The Pedant’s lips and tongue must have been getting tired because he started switching back and forth between stimulating me with his mouth and his hand, and so I grabbed the Hitachi and said “Tell you what.  I’ll get myself close, and you jump in when I tell you to.”  He nodded.

I actually Hitachi’d myself until I went over the edge, just to be extra sure – and then quickly set the vibrator aside and pulled The Pedant’s head to me.  He instantly and diligently went to work and POW, he totally “caught” my orgasm with his mouth (my visual/kinaesthetic brain helpfully provided me with an image of a trapeze artist backflipping out into space to be caught by her partner just in time).  I’d worried that either the orgasm would vanish or that The Pedant’s ministrations would be too intense and kind of hurt (as often happens when I’m not orgasming), but no.  It was good.  Very, very good.

Once my thrashing and yelps had subsided and I was lying there all breathless and glassy-eyed and shaking and half-crying, The Pedant looked up at me with a smile and asked “Did you get an orgasm during all of that?”  It’s not clear to me anymore whether he genuinely doesn’t know if I’ve come, or just wants to hear me say it for the ego-boost.  I managed to nod and make an affirmative sound.  Then The Pedant  fucked me missionary style – still wearing the condom from before – and came, same as last time he was over.  I like these sessions where the attention switches back and forth.  Feels like more of a smooth continuum than the usual “we’ll do me from start to finish and then you” paradigm.

As usual, I was experiencing a post-orgasmic, post-coital rush of deep affection and really would have liked to cuddle The Pedant face-to-face while looking in his eyes.  But (also as usual) he put me in a position where eye contact was impossible – in this case by rolling me away from him and then spooning me.  He fell asleep immediately; after a while, all snug and warm with his arms around me, I did too.

More later.

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