In Dreams

I had a sex dream about The Pedant last night.  We were at a gathering at someone’s house, I think.  For some reason he was wearing blue jeans and an orange button-down shirt – two things he would never actually wear.  In real life he has an extensive collection of black turtlenecks and plain black pants.

We both ended up alone in a room together (kitchen, maybe?  Workroom?).  We made some awkward small talk and then just kind of simultaneously lunged at each other and started frantically making out.  He backed my ass up against a counter; I fumbled for his fly and took out his cock, which was already hard.  Even in dreams the texture and shape of it was distinct and unmistakeable.  Even in dreams he gasped deeply the moment I took him in my hand.

I knew I should mention that I’ve had a new partner since him, and ask The Pedant if he wanted me to use a condom.  But I didn’t; I wanted him bareback.  I justified my silence to myself by remembering how The Pedant first introduced me to barebacking by just pushing on in without asking.  Also, during our initial bareback negotiations we did agree it was fine for both of us to have other partners, provided we continued to get regular STI tests.  In theory the fact that I’d had protected sex with a new person recently shouldn’t matter.

So I went ahead and guided The Pedant inside me without mentioning The Bunny.  It amuses me that this dream was so detailed – right down to my internal debate about condoms and the exact angle at which I propped my ass on the counter to allow vaginal access – and yet my clothes didn’t figure into the situation at all.  I wasn’t naked in this dream (or at least I didn’t feel exposed/embarrassed/unprepared as in most naked dreams), but I also didn’t pull anything up, down, or to one side in order to facilitate penetration.  I just positioned the tip of The Pedant’s cock and then pulled his hips toward me.

He made the most lovely sounds as he entered and began to thrust, cupping my ass in both hands to pull me closer.  In keeping with the realism of the dream, I tried to wrap both my legs around his hips but then thought better of it (I’m the same size as The Pedant, and almost as heavy; I didn’t figure he could support my weight for long) and instead braced one leg on the floor so I could push back.  He kissed me as we fucked.  His mouth was warm and soft and enfolding, just like it is in real life (The Pedant is one of these people whose lips somehow never get chapped, even in the dead of winter.  They are always silky smooth).

And…that’s it.  That’s all there was.  My subconscious drifted off to other places so I didn’t get any kind of closure on the dream-sex.

It did make me miss The Pedant more ferociously than before, though.  I wanna fuck him so badly it almost hurts.

I realized, a while back, that The Pedant is terrible for me as a main boy, but pretty great as a boy-on-the-side (see: a year or two ago when I was living with Minx and seeing The Pedant every few weekends).  Now that I have The Bunny to kind of anchor my sex life, I wonder whether I could manage to fuck The Pedant some more and not get so lost in it.

But of course I can’t broach that subject with The Pedant because we’re in this weird stand-off where I’m waiting for him to respond to my email from two months ago.  And I’m so bitter about him not answering it that there’s probably no going back, anyway.  

One of my astute and awesome commenters has a theory that The Pedant has a certain image in his head of his ideal partner, and that I’m not it (though he unexpectedly came to love me anyway).  And this is why he’s not chasing me the way he chased after his last ex: he’s sad I’m gone and everything, but he’s convinced I wasn’t actually “right” for him, despite the mutual feelings and amazing sex and wonderful times together – and he wants to find a woman who matches his imagined ideal.  I think that’s probably exactly what happened.  And I certainly don’t want to reward his idiocy by offering him free sex.

I miss it, though.  The Pedant was some of my best sex ever.  I have a strong feeling I was some of his best sex ever, too.  Sometimes it seems stupid that we couldn’t manage to keep on having it.

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