In Which Pixie Spends the Night With Me.

Well, Strawberry Blonde Ponytail Guy was indeed at the club last night, and Pixie was adorably stern in telling me to go talk to him.  And he and I did talk sporadically throughout the night.  I learned things about him in bits and pieces, like that he lives not in my city but in [neighbouring small town] and that he moved there because moving to a small town is what you do when you’re common-law with someone and have a kid.

Annnnd that’s how I learned that SBPG is off-limits for makeouts (or at least I assume he is – I took the info as a hint and didn’t ask if his relationship is open).  I’m sad that I won’t get to do sexy stuff with this dude, but if he has to be off-limits, I’m glad it came out the way it did.

It’s funny…I’ve heard stories of people going up and talking to someone who screams “I’M IN A RELATIONSHIP!!!!!!!” as a defence mechanism within the first ten seconds of conversation – like practically in response to a simple “hello.”  The one who did the approaching may have been intending to make a move eventually or may truly have just been feeling gregarious, but either way they feel offended that the one they approached automatically assumed carnal motives when no such motives had been expressed.  In my case, I outright told SBPG that I wanted to get to know him purely because he was  hot, so in theory he had every reason to pull the “I’M IN A RELATIONSHIP!!!!!” card – but he didn’t.  He also didn’t actively hide that information.  He just talked to me like a damn human being and let the info come up naturally, and I appreciate that.

We ended up chatting about marriage/exes/kids/etc. for a little bit after that.  Turns out he’s older than I’d initially thought – I tend to assume anyone in a nightclub is around 25 unless they’re seriously haggard-looking, but turns out SBPG had a kid with a now-ex wife at age 19, and this girl is now 14 years old.  So SBPG is in his ’30s.  I enjoyed talking to him, and at the end of the night when I found him and said goodbye to him he said he hoped to see me the following week.

Meanwhile, Pixie invited herself back to my place to spend the night and I got all kinds of freaked out, figuring she was expecting sex.  I’d like to fuck her, mind you.  I just worry that I won’t turn out to be too great at it.

In retrospect, I think Pixie isn’t really ready to have sex with me yet and only came over for makeouts.  Supporting evidence: she’s been initiating affection more often, but only in public or when we’re saying goodbye.  I’ve done this before; it’s because being in public or about to part company is “safe” in that it limits how far things can go.

So anyway, we stopped briefly by Pixie’s place so she could change clothes and grab her toothbrush, then went to mine.  She’d brought two beers to “christen our first sleepover” (implying there would be more?  And also, was the alcohol significant?  Was she trying to get drunker to take the edge off some nervousness?) so we cracked those open and made terribly awkward small talk.  Pixie had mentioned wanting to see the movie Closer (it was the excuse she’d used for inviting herself over, actually – I told her I owned it and she could come see it sometime and she pouted and said “sometime?  Why not tonight?”) so we ended up lying in my bed and watching it on Netflix.

We did not snuggle.  At one point I reached over and stroked her arm, and she made a happy/acknowledging sound, but she didn’t move closer to me or anything so I stopped.  I really don’t know what the hell to do with this girl.  At the club earlier she’d been making out with me and caressing me, and on the way home she occasionally held my hand.  We ended up talking to some random lady and Pixie kissed me on the mouth and made it very clear to this random lady that we’re a couple.  But suddenly in my apartment it’s like we were two complete strangers.

After the movie and a pre-bed smoke out on my porch, I lay back down on my side of the bed (clad in boxers and a t-shirt) and Pixie stripped off her shorts and did that thing where you take off your bra and pull it out your sleeve without actually taking off your shirt.  She used my bathroom and then, when she was climbing over me to get to the empty side of the bed, we started to kiss (I think we both kind of initiated that).

A minute or two of kissing went by with her on top of me, and then she announced “submissive!” in a singsongy voice and collapsed over onto her back.  I followed her lead and got on top of her.  She lay with her hands limply by her head, just like The Pedant does when he’s feeling bottomy, and it kind of made me want to give a lecture on submission vs. passivity.  Like…I’m not gonna consider her any less submissive if she fucking participates in the makeouts for Pete’s sake.

More kissing, and then I paused it to say “Soooo, I remember on your FetLife profile it says you’re not one to sleep with someone right away.  So…how far did you want to go?”

Pixie said something about being okay with sleeping with me (I now wonder if she literally meant sleep though…) and re: how far to go, that she’d just like to “get smoochy” with me and see where it went.  I asked if there was any part of her that she wouldn’t want me touching  – any part that would be “too much” – and she said no.

More makeouts, during which I pulled her shirt up and kissed/licked/bit my way down her chest and belly to her thighs and then back up again.  And took off my own shirt, and asked her to run her hands over my back, which she did – and she played with my breasts a bit, too.  It made things so much more fun when she actively participated in the makeouts.  It made me feel desired, whereas when she just lies there I kind of feel like a service provider.

After a while, I let my  hand stray down to Pixie’s crotch, lightly skating my fingernails over her clit and labia through her underwear.  She appeared to be comfortable with this; I was afraid she’d be like “Gah!  Too far!” but no.  Her little gasps and moans were really hot.  I experimented with applying firm, targeted pressure to her clitoris – earlier, when we were making out, one of my hipbones ended up pressing between her legs with a fair bit of my weight behind it and she moaned and ground up against me so it seemed like pressure would be okay – and yeah, she continued to moan, but she didn’t moan any differently than before.  No change in pitch or intensity or anything.  I wondered whether she was just moaning to be nice.  I wondered whether I was touching her anywhere near where she would touch herself in order to get off.  I pictured her describing everything I was doing to some friend the next day while incredulously rolling her eyes at how clueless I was.

And I kinda psyched myself out and abandoned Pixie’s clit in order to just make out with her and caress her torso and thighs some more.  She’d gone passive again, and I got sick of that and sick of her lack of clear signals and just flat-out asked her “What would you like me to do to you?” she said “I loved your fingers down there” (down there?  Is she a sex-positive polyamorous adult or a seven year old fundamentalist Christian?) so I returned to my underpants manipulations.

It’s always amused me when guys said they “couldn’t find the clitoris.”  You guys, it’s front and centre!  How is that so hard?  …I always assumed that this would not be a problem for me if I were in a girlsex situation.  Only last night did I suddenly remember that different people have different clitoral sweet-spots (lots of women prefer the tip to be stimulated, for instance, but for me it’s a little further up the shaft on the right side), and I realized that just being somewhere on her clitoris probably wouldn’t be enough to make me look competent.  She’d likely be bored and think I was a clueless idiot unless I found the precise spot she liked best.  Which was a pretty daunting task, especially through the underwear of a person who was not fucking saying anything at all.  At one point I even asked “is this okay?” and she just said “yes” – but her moans were still in that holding-pattern that made me think I probably wasn’t anywhere near getting her off.  Maybe getting off wasn’t even her goal and she was just enjoying my touch – which might have been useful for her to say.  I kinda wanted to ask clarifying questions – more or less pressure?  Up or down more?  To the left/to the right? – but felt it might be overkill since she’d already said things were fine.  Funny – I thought I could bluff my way through girlsex by being communicative, but I forgot that some people don’t know how to communicate back.  Guys have told me stories of women who always said everything was “fine” and, if asked what they might enjoy at any given moment, would say “I don’t know.”  Pixie was good at telling me when she didn’t like something (like when I bit her too hard) but gave me no feedback at all on how I could please her better, and that sucks.

Finally she said “I’m getting tired.”  I said okay and she rolled over and went to sleep.  I’m trying to take this at face value but I’m worried that actually I wasn’t doing very well at stimulating her and she was looking for a polite excuse to make me stop.

Oh, I forgot to mention: Pixie told me at the club that her mom wanted to meet me.  I was anxious about this – did she think Pixie and I were super-serious?  Was she wanting to judge me and see if I was worthy of her daughter? – but Pixie assured me that it’s no big deal and that her mom just likes to know who she’s hanging out with.  Apparently Pixie’s mom has met The  Pedant, too, and Pixie never even dated him.  So it was agreed that after Pixie spent the night at my place, we’d go back to her place together so her mom could meet me, all casual and low-pressure-like.

This morning when we woke up, Pixie didn’t kiss me good morning or anything – we were back to total physical awkwardness.  I asked her if she’d like some eggs, and she said yes.  When I eventually came back in with breakfast for both of us, she said “Don’t be offended if I don’t finish it all.  I’m just not used to eating this soon after waking up.”  I appreciate her forthrightness but wouldn’t it have made more sense for her not to have requested any breakfast, or to specify that she only wanted a tiny bit?  Sure enough, she ate like two bites of the three-egg omelet I’d handed her and that was about it.  And she wanted to take public transit to her house (which is a fifteen minute walk from my apartment) because for some fucking reason she’d changed her clothes the night before but not her boots, which were the same ones she’d worn clubbing and which hurt her feet.  I’m sorry, I suppose I’m being terribly petty here, but Pixie lives with her parents rent free and has a regular part-time job and I have $1500/month in expenses and no regular work so it irks me that she cavalierly wasted my food and money – even if it only amounted to $5 in all.

Incidentally, when we were getting ready to go she changed without going into another room – I was in the bathroom and when I came back into the bedroom to get something she was standing there bottomless, her back to me, rummaging through her knapsack (for clean underpants, I’m assuming).  I quietly got the item I’d come in for and then sneaked back out again so she wouldn’t know I’d seen her naked ass.  Later, I was back in the bedroom doing something and Pixie changed shirts in front of me – albeit facing away from me still.

If a dude did things like that under the same circumstances, I would figure he was trying to tempt or seduce me (or that he didn’t realize I was standing there).  But since Pixie and I are both female, I think it’s more complicated.  Yeah, we’re potential sex partners, but there’s also the cultural script that says that women aren’t sexual predators (so it’s “safe” to get naked in front of one) and that people with the same kinds of genitals can change in front of each other and it doesn’t mean anything.  I guess what I’m saying is that this whole visit seemed like a half-date, half platonic girlie sleepover type thing and I didn’t know the etiquette at all.  So I erred on the side of caution – especially since Pixie hadn’t kissed or touched me in any way whatsoever since we woke up.  It just didn’t seem like I’d be welcome to do anything.

I guess Pixie wasn’t kidding about her mom being super-casual because when we arrived at Pixie’s swanky condominium, her mom was like “Oh hi, nice to meet you, I’m just on my way out for a pedicure.  I’ll be back in less than an hour.”  And she left, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to stick around and talk to her some more when she got back or what.  I kind of awkwardly sat on the couch with Pixie and we played with her dog for a bit.  I wanted to ask if I should just go, but didn’t want to seem like I was in some huge hurry to ditch Pixie.  Although I kind of was.  We hadn’t gone to bed until around 5am and I was tired as fuck, and she was being physically distant and we’d completely run out of things to talk about and it was just a bad scene.

I gamely hung out with Pixie and her dog for a bit, but when Pixie yawned and said “jeez, it feels like naptime” I took that as my cue (did she mean it as one?  Was she simply stating that she was tired, or did she wish I’d GTFO so she could actually take a nap?  I don’t know what’s up with this girl!!!).  I told Pixie I was super tired, too, so I was unfortunately going to have to bail before her mom came back, and I left.

I just don’t know.  Pixie has these moments where she’s lively and we talk about stuff and she shows herself to be interesting and funny and intelligent, but I suspect she needs alcohol in order to get there…and the rest of the time it’s like she has no idea how to have a conversation.  And sometimes I feel like I’m not even attracted to her and would be fine with us just being acquaintances rather than trying to date, but then she’ll put the moves on me and suddenly I’m attracted and turned on and hoping to get more naked with her sometime soon.  There is a spark there, I think; it’s just buried under a lot of weirdness, and I don’t know if it’s worth it to start digging.


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5 responses to “In Which Pixie Spends the Night With Me.

  1. Juuuuuuulia

    Hello! I thought I’d chime in and address “Is she a sex-positive polyamorous adult or a seven year old fundamentalist Christian?” I think you mentioned that she’s only 22, right? She hasn’t been a sex-positive polyamorous adult that long! I have to admit, while I feel perfectly comfortable reading this blog in the confines of my own apartment, I would find it pretty uncomfortable to talk out LOUD about all my vagina components with another person I don’t know that well, despite a firm belief that this is a good and correct thing to do.

    • I’m not actually ragging on her for using a vague euphemism instead of medical terminology or whatever. It’s just that “down there” strikes a particularly clueless/infantile note for me, and therefore was kind of a buzzkill. “Keep fingering me” or “head down south again” or “what you were doing with your fingers a few minutes ago was really great, can I have more?” are equally vague, but less jarring to me. 😛

  2. Pingback: More swooning. Also weirdness. Par for the course I suppose. | hiding in plain sight

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