The Pedant came over last night and left this evening and I still haven’t dropped the L-bomb. Was going to slip it in with my goodbyes when he was leaving, but balked. Didn’t feel like the right time.
A couple of days ago – not knowing yet when I would see him again and craving him badly – I texted him: I want to tie you down and reduce you to a melty, shuddering puddle of whimper. (Awww yeah. Vivid metaphor, nice cadence, and internal rhyme all packed into one sentence: I am the motherfucking Shakespeare of sexting.)
I fully expected him to text back something infuriating or nonsensical like “you’re welcome.” I was pleasantly surprised when he replied with “That sounds like fun. Tell me more. :)”
…Surprised, and also made bashful by the idea of typing more explicit things to him. My ability to dirty-talk kinda comes and goes. I ended up sending him a couple of rambly texts just telling him how much I love his touch-sensitivity and how I was going to tease his nipples a whole bunch and stuff. I won’t reproduce those missives here because they were very much not my best work. In retrospect I wish I’d gone the coy route and said something like “Come over here and live it, instead.” At any rate The Pedant replied to my awkward descriptions with “mmmm. :)” which is refreshingly not-weird.
When he actually got over here, though (at 1am, after having worked as an extra on a film shoot*) I felt a kind of “stage fright.” I’d texted him a bunch of things I liked about playing with him, and a bunch of the things that go through my head in the heat of the moment, and now I felt like anything I did, he’d be able to see through as if he had x-ray vision. “Oh, now she must be thinking about how much she likes the way I taste…now she’s enjoying the way I respond to her touch…” etc., etc. Seems like a dumb thing to get freaked out by, especially since probably knowing that stuff would be a turn on for The Pedant. But he’s kinda cryptic and his mind doesn’t always work in ways that I understand, so I guess I get paranoid and picture worst-case scenarios.
Oh, but let me start at the beginning because I want to capture our greeting for posterity.
Usually when The Pedant shows up I either come forward and kiss him hello or just step back so he can come through the door unmolested. This time…actually, I can’t remember for sure if I kissed him hello. I might have given him a peck on the mouth. But when I backed up so he could come in, he came forward, embraced me, and kissed me a few more times. He looked exhausted (having been on the film set for twelve hours) but also relieved to finally be here with me. It was a sweetly domestic moment that I don’t want to forget.
Upstairs, we made small talk while he undressed (as usual). Whereupon I suddenly noticed that he’d pared his beard back to the chin strap I’m accustomed to, and was so overjoyed that I cut him off mid-sentence to squeal, “Your face is back!” and come up to kiss and nibble on his newly exposed cheeks for a while. It may be my imagination but I think The Pedant’s breathing quickened ever-so-slightly when I did that, weird though it sounds. I have heard that freshly-shaved skin can be extra sensitive, plus The Pedant may have been a little revved up already from the anticipation of, well, those things I said in my sexts.
He hopped in the shower to rinse off the day’s exertions; I waited for him in bed. When he got in next to me I began tentatively kissing his shoulder – which he received with a soft little happy-sound – but I wasn’t sure whether I should go much further. The Pedant just looked so exhausted when he came in. I really need to work on overcoming my shyness with him and being more direct (“So hey, I could totally have sex with you right now. But if you’re not up to it that’s okay.”) but for now I asked “Do you need food, or are you needing to sleep or..?” The Pedant replied that he was okay to be awake for a little while longer. And so I started kissing my way up to his neck.
I know I’ve said this a hundred times before but I love love love the way The Pedant is so stereotypically “feminine” in bed. Sensitive to touch, squirmy, vocal…and while I’m pretty sure he could fuck me from pretty much a cold start if I asked him to, foreplay makes a huge and obvious difference with him. The longer I touch and torment him, the hotter he seems to get (up to a point…I’m beginning to think there is a time where it becomes too much). I love slowly building him up and up to the highest peak possible.
Even just softly kissing his neck last night made him moan a little bit – and I was being subtle, too, just barely brushing my lips and/or tongue against his skin. I’m not at all used to The Pedant’s level of responsiveness. I’ve been craving a boy like him for a long time.
Pretty soon I was (once again) straddling him and running my fingertips repeatedly down his chest, over his nipples, and down to his lower belly, causing waves of pleasure to crash through him. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, as he whimpered and moaned and undulated; I watched the little flickers of concentration and pleasure cross his face and noticed for the first time that it’s not just his face that flushes when he’s turned on – his lips get redder than usual, too. And perhaps swollen, too, though we hadn’t been kissing too much by that point. Or maybe he just makes a subtly pouty face when he’s turned on, but I definitely notice that his lips look irresistibly full and biteable when we’re in the throes of…stuff, and less so when we’re just hanging out.
By the time I asked The Pedant if I should get out the restraints, he was so lost in sensation that he’d gone totally nonverbal; he indicated his assent by turning up the volume of his moans. Interestingly, he then began caressing my back and thighs – perhaps trying to take advantage of his hand-freedom while he still could. Up until that point he’d been totally passive. I enjoyed his ministrations for a few minutes, then buckled on the restraints and secured him to the bed.
The actual sex part of the festivities didn’t last very long, which I’d normally ascribe to me having gotten him so worked up ahead of time; but his climax didn’t seem quite as strong as it could have been, and that surprises me. A big buildup usually leads to a big finish, with him. Maybe his tiredness affected things. At any rate, I was riding him and after a few minutes I started feeling aggressive and shoved my hand up under his jaw to immobilize his head; he wailed and I thought it was simply that he was extra-turned on by me being so feisty. He’ll often gasp/vocalize/etc. when I seize his jaw like that; his orgasm sounds are usually louder and more insistent than his “you just did something hot” sounds, though, and that day they weren’t. Then I realized “Oh – he’s actually coming now!” and I released his head so I could finger both his nipples at once, thereby intensifying his orgasm as much as possible. I sat up straight so I could watch his face and kept thrusting while I played with his nipples; I saw the exact moment where it all clicked over from “amazing” to “ARRRGH TOO MUCH STOP STOP NOW.” The slow rise and fall of his body turned to panicky thrashing and he twisted his face away from me with a look of pain. I instantly stopped, cradling his face in my hands and making soothing shushing noises. But part of me really wanted to continue. Push the envelope. See if I could make him cry.
And I’m so, so curious to know whether I triggered his orgasm by grabbing his jaw like that, or grabbed his jaw just as he began to orgasm.
I knew he’d be falling asleep any minute – he has pleasured me after sex before, but I’ve come to realize it’s very much the exception, not the rule – so I got out the Hitachi and took care of business myself, lying between The Pedant’s spread and bound legs with my feet resting on his upper arms. Any time that I’m getting off while The Pedant is awake, he’ll express his emotional support in whatever way he’s able, and this was no exception; he affectionately rubbed one of his still-tied-up arms against my foot. He was fast asleep by my second orgasm, though. After I unbuckled him I had to push his legs back together manually in order to make room for myself on the bed.
I didn’t sleep too well, possibly because The Pedant remained in the centre of the bed and wouldn’t budge when I tried to shove him over. He did eventually move, until then I was practically hanging off the edge of the bed. I think I ended up waking up at ten and quietly laptopping next to The Pedant for a bit, then dozing off again. At around noon, he clambered over me to go to the bathroom and kissed me next to my nose on his way over, which startled me awake (but in the most pleasant way). When he came back to bed he cuddled up with his head on my chest, which I always love. When he wanted to change position, he rolled onto his back and sort of gathered me up in his arms so I was lying on his chest. *Dreamy sigh.*
Eventually, I made us some breakfast and we ate it in bed. After which I began idly kissing The Pedant’s hipbones and then, eventually, his penis. I didn’t need for this to lead to anything, but I kind of wanted it to. For a while it was unclear to me how The Pedant felt about my ministrations. Then he began to melt into the mattress and make soft little peeping noises and I knew it was on like Donkey Kong.
I’d actually kind of wanted The Pedant to give me a turn as the Passive Receiver of Pleasure this time, but his sounds and squirms ended up seducing me along the opposite path**. I ended up sucking and tonguing his cock for…I dunno, ages. I haven’t gone down on a guy for that long (or enjoyed it that much) in years. I think I got him really close to the edge, too – he was bucking and moaning and clutching the edge of the mattress and I felt his cock grow just that little bit bigger and harder, as they usually do right before The Grand Finale. And then, for some reason, the moment passed. The sequence of events is a bit blurry to me now but I think he even began to go soft.
“Tell me what you want,” I said, partly because I was confused by his body’s sudden uncooperativeness and partly because I just flat-out get turned on hearing him talk about his desires in that breathy turned-on voice he gets. A few moments went by as The Pedant tried to remember how to speak. Finally, he breathed, “I want you to tie me up and use your hands on me.”
As an aside: it’s always seemed weird to me that hand jobs are a favourite thing of The Pedant’s, since intercourse is so much more intimate and he seems to come at least as strongly from it. It has just occurred to me that maybe he fetishizes hand jobs over intercourse because the hand job is unequivocally about his pleasure. Penetration is (hopefully) pleasurable to both parties, but a hand job is very much a gift just for him. Interesting!
Once again, The Pedant caressed me for a little while right before I started putting the restraints on him. I put the wrist restraints on him (wrapping each of his hands in turn around my hip for safekeeping while I fastened the cuffs on) and then attached the restraints to my headboard. Then, as usual, I swung around to straddle him backwards so I could put the ankle restraints on – but just to shake things up a bit and surprise him, I put his penis inside me while I did it. He was definitely not expecting that; he practically howled and his breathing went all harsh and wonky. I bent forward to fasten on the ankle restraints – lifting off him slightly in the process – and he whimpered and thrust up at me.
After I’d secured The Pedant, I dismounted, poured a good amount of lube onto his cock, and started working him with my hand. His sounds quickly got me so turned on that I was literally dripping and found myself wanting him inside me again. “You can have my hand again soon, ” I said, climbing on top of him, “But right now I just need a little taste…”
I was afraid The Pedant would be disappointed by me veering away from his stated request for a hand job. If he was disappointed, he hid it well; he started whimpering in anticipation the moment I swung my leg over his body, gave a long intake of breath as his cock slid home, and started thrusting up at me with such enthusiasm that for the first couple of minutes I didn’t bother moving at all. Then I did begin to thrust back, which made him vocalize even more. When it seemed like he was close to coming, I held still for a minute so he could compose himself (almost wondering if I’d messed up my timing; both times that we played together this visit, I riled him up to such a state of frenzy that all of his sounds were as fervent and desperate as his orgasm sounds usually are. Makes it hard to know what’s going on…).
But no, he hadn’t come, and so I climbed off him and went back to giving him that hand job. Which went well, until it didn’t; he began to get soft. He told me he’d like to feel my mouth on him again, so I did that, but CPR could not revive his erection. The Pedant told me once that sometimes he gets overstimulated and can’t come. I figured this might be the case now (and surmised that perhaps there is such a thing as too much foreplay, for him). So I abandoned his penis entirely and came up to lie on him for a while, kissing him and playing with his nipples a bit.
After a while I started gently playing with his cock again, and it got three-quarters hard but still not hard enough to effectively jerk it off. I decided to fuck him some more to get it at full mast again. The Pedant once again began whimpering in anticipation the moment I climbed on top of him. Maybe two minutes into the fucking, he suddenly came, with a sound more like a moan of relief than anything. It didn’t seem like his best orgasm ever, but I kept on thrusting and playing with his nipples – sitting up as before so I could watch his face – and that definitely drew it out. I wasn’t sure at first because he’d fallen almost silent, but he still had that slightly preoccupied frown he gets and I could feel him spasming repeatedly inside me.
Just as I was about to stop with the thrusting and nipple play, The Pedant whispered “stop” (good; I read his body language right). At that moment I was feeling feisty and extremely turned on (and amused by the apparent contradiction of the tied-up boy telling me what to do) and I leaned down and snarled in his ear “Maybe I say when we stop, fucker!”
I had stopped everything the second he told me to, mind you. I just felt a need to remind him that I didn’t have to. My surge of aggression seemed to have no effect on The Pedant; he didn’t appear to be frightened or confused or to realize just how helpless he really is when he’s tied up or…anything at all, really. That’s fine. I’m happy I can say stuff to him in bed without him taking it too seriously. I also have a habit of saying “mine” over and over again while we’re fucking and this doesn’t perturb him a bit, either.
And then, even though The Pedant had already slept for like ten hours and we’d been awake for maybe three, he fell asleep. Against all odds (since I was still really wanting “my turn” still), so did I.
Oh, I almost forgot: Pixie had asked The Pedant to go for coffee with her today (no time specified yet). He did not ask me how I felt about him going for coffee on a day he said he’d spend with me; he simply told me yesterday that he’d be going, and that Pixie said I was welcome to come, too. At the time I couldn’t think how to express my dissatisfaction with this, so I stayed silent. I think the words I was looking for were “…But you said you’d be spending the day here.” But at the time I couldn’t think how to address it so I just said I’d come along.
When we woke up from our afternoon nap, The Pedant messaged Pixie to ask what time she wanted to hang out and I wondered whether there’s be time for The Pedant to lavish some orgasmic attention in me in the meantime. When he put his phone down again, The Pedant had two pieces of information:
1) Pixie had totally forgotten about going for coffee, and was currently in a neighbouring city visiting her boyfriend (did I mention she has a boyfriend now?).
2) The Pedant has forgotten to turn off the alarm clock function on his laptop and the alarm was currently going off…in The Pedant’s locked room at home. And the sound was driving his mom insane.
So, The Pedant would have to go home earlier than anticipated. But he said he’d go get groceries with me and help me lug them home first.
During the getting ready process, he offered to rub some sunblock on my back where I couldn’t reach. He drizzled way more of it on me than I probably needed, and rubbed it in so thoroughly, and with exactly the right amount of pressure, that I made an “mmm” sound and said something like “This is making me want to stay in.”
“I thought you needed groceries,” The Pedant chastised.
“I need a lot of things,” I said, giving him a hungry look. “Sometime in the very near future, I want you to lavish attention on me for a change.”
The Pedant, realizing that I must have been feeling neglected during this whole visit, protested, “Hey, I’d had a really long day and then you wore me out!”
“I know you fall asleep after sex. I’ve made my peace with that. I’m saying I need you to up your game when you’re awake.”
“Shall I come over next week and fix this situation, then?”
“Yes, please,” I said. A minute later I made some comment about the cold drizzle of sunblock he’d poured on my back being like a bizarro “money shot.”
The Pedant said “You can have that when I come over next week, too.” Or words to that effect, implying that the next time we saw each other he would come on my back.
I cheerfully said “Okay,” and I think that caught him off-guard. 😀
Then The Pedant remarked that he really had put way too much sunblock on me, and I said “Ah, that’s right, you’re an oversqueezer” (he’d told me before that he has a tendency to use too much of things – dish soap, etc. – and used this word to describe himself).
“Only with cosmetic products,” The Pedant said (I guess heading me off at the pass before I could make a masturbation joke). “Shampoo, toothpaste, moisturizer…”
“Well, no wonder you don’t wear makeup, then. You’d make yourself look like a raccoon hooker,” I said.
“No, I’d make myself look like a mime.”
“Oh, jeez, why does that mental image make me hot?” I wondered out loud.
“Because it would mean I wouldn’t be talking?” The Pedant suggested.
I grinned at him and said “Nicely played.” Although I wasn’t entirely kidding about the Pedant-as-mime thing vaguely titillating me. I think it’s because he has really pretty blue eyes and I think they’d look good outlined in black. If I picture him wearing the whole get-up with little white gloves and a horizontally striped shirt it does nothing for me. Actually, upon reflection, it might be the not-talking thing a bit, too. 😀
A bit later, The Pedant had finished showering and grooming and said to himself, “I need clothes.” Meaning, “I am going to put on my clothes that are currently in my knapsack.” But he said it right when I’d just retrieved the skirt I planned to wear, so I held the skirt out to him as if in answer. He looked at it with that hot, infuriating smirk of his and just said “no.”
“Just try it on?”
“Awwww. Is your sense of manhood so flimsy that it would be compromised by you wearing one tube of fabric on your lower body instead of two?” I asked. I used a kidding voice but actually, I really want to know why he won’t even put on an item of girl clothing. Would he feel like less of a man? Does he assume I’d fetishize him (because he knows I like crossdressers) and he’s uncomfortable with the idea? I don’t get it.
“I don’t even like leopard print on women,” The Pedant said. “I’m certainly not going to wear it myself.”
Whereupon I took another skirt out of my drawer, this one with a print of cherries on it, and held it out saying “I know you like cherries…” (we’d eaten a bunch of cherries earlier).
The answer was still “no,” of course. And the reason he gave was that he doesn’t like the idea of wearing a skirt because it would be drafty (I pointed out that draftiness is exactly what you need in the dead of summer, but this did not change his mind).
Just to be clear, I don’t actually want to see The Pedant in a skirt for fetishistic reasons. I briefly wanted to see him in panties back in the day because Ogling Dudes in Panties was my default setting for so long, but I have since realized that The Pedant’s decidedly masculine physique wouldn’t lend itself well to the androgynous look that I like and I wouldn’t get much out of just the subversive aspect of it. My persistence with the joke about putting on my skirt (and other jokes I’ve made about wearing my clothes) was strictly because I wanna know why he objects to it so hard.
We went to get groceries, and at first I was carrying the grocery basket and The Pedant was just trailing along behind me. And then he was like “Do you want me to carry that? I mean, I’m here…”
If I’d been getting two baskets of groceries I would’ve automatically handed one to him so he could lighten my load; it seems rude, though, to make someone else carry something so that I can walk around carrying nothing. But he offered, so I took him up on it. It kind of gave me a thrill as a dominant to walk around unencumbered and use The Pedant as my sexy pack mule. And it gave me a thrill as a dominant that The Pedant was so eager to help me. I got more groceries than I’d originally planned to, just so I could take full advantage of his services. Usually I’m going to the grocery store every two or three days because I can’t carry too much at a time, but not today. No indeed, not today.
I had my knapsack full of groceries plus I carried a plastic bag, and The Pedant carried two plastic bags, too. Halfway home he offered to take mine, as well, and I let him.
Y’know, I’ve had some chick friends who get offered help by strange men all the damn time. I am rarely offered male assistance, possibly because I’m so tall that people assume I’m strong, too, and can Carry All The Things. And, okay, I wouldn’t want a stranger carrying my bags. But the fact that I’ve struggled in public with all kinds of stupid shit I was carrying without anyone batting an eye makes it even more thrilling to me when The Pedant offers to help – like it’s healing an old emotional wound for me.
We brought my groceries up to the apartment, and then I walked The Pedant back down to the front door to say goodbye. We kissed like a zillion times and I tried to make myself say “I love you” but, I dunno, there was traffic noise and I worried he wouldn’t hear me unless I dramatically leaned way in and just…yeah. Not today. Instead we agreed that he would come over this Wednesday and I asked him to try to be as early as possible so we could maximize our time together.
He was gazing at me so fondly between kisses, though. And there were so many kisses, not all of them initiated by me. I really feel like he loves me back.
*I feel like a bit of a hypocrite for waiving my previous stance on vague, I’ll-come-by-whenever-this-other-thing-is-done-type plans, but I dunno…for whatever reason the idea didn’t bother me as much this time as it did last time. Ohhhh you know why? Because this time the thing he was doing before me was work-related. If he stayed out late it’s because he had to. Last time, the thing he was doing before me was social so the later he stayed at it, the more I’d feel like he was choosing his friends over me.
**Yeah, I know it’s probably a mixed message to start pleasuring him when I want to be pleasured. I’ll have to start asking for what I want more clearly. But in my defence, our usual pattern is that he gives me “my turn” on Day Two of a visit – and usually it starts off with me puttin’ the moves on him and then he suddenly turns the tables.