The Pedant dropped by last night to give me a second-hand cell phone he thought might be useful to me. He ended up staying the night annnnnd we (eventually) had all the sex. Which apparently did not violate The Pedant’s arrangement with his girlfriend. More on that later. Right now I’m just gonna tell the story chronologically.
He’d framed this visit as dropping off this phone to me, so I half-expected him to just hand it off at the front door and go. But when I answered the door and asked him “You wanna come up and annoy the cats for a while?” he said sure.
Dickface the Kitten – who usually hides under the bed when visitors come in the door and tentatively creeps out to say hi five minutes later – recognized The Pedant and came right up to him without hiding first, which was gratifying to see. The Pedant sat next to me on the couch and helped me puzzle through some of the basics of navigating this phone (it’s an Android phone and my everyday one is a Blackberry, so there’s a learning curve). As I fucked around with the phone I mentioned that I’d been really into the show Bojack Horseman on NetFlix lately and The Pedant said he’d never seen it. I put on the first episode to give The Pedant something better to do than watch me struggle to type my WiFi password on the tiny phone keyboard.
And he just…kept on watching when the first episode flipped over into the second. Even after I got bored playing with the phone and set it aside. I liked having him there despite wanting to touch him so badly that I could barely look him in the eye. I didn’t hint that he should go, ask how long he’d stay, or point out that it was getting late. I decided to just let him stay as long as he was inclined to. Maybe powering though my sexual yearning and exerting self-control would bring me to a point of being Just Friends with him faster.
My couch (which is actually a single bed with pillows and a beanbag chair leaned against the wall for back support) has a bunch of random crap taking up space at one end of it. The Pedant and I sat right next to each other. When some part of my body made contact with some part of his by accident a few times, he neither did the polite/awkward recoil nor let the contact linger. He seemed so nonchalant that I wondered whether I was the only one dying for more contact. But a few Bojack episodes in, he slung his arm across the top of the beanbag chair I was leaning against. I was scootched way down, so his arm was most definitely on the chair, not around me, but still…it sent me into a frenzy of overthinking. It feels like such high-school crap to analyze every move a cute boy makes, but sometimes I can’t help it. Would he have sat that way with one of his other friends? I feel like he wouldn’t. Definitely not with a guy friend, at least. Maybe with me he’s just more physically comfortable because we used to have sex. It’s probably not that he wanted to be closer to me, right? Or is it?
As the night wore on I began to notice him “mirroring” me – sitting up and leaning forward if I did, leaning back into the couch if I did (“mirroring” is generally a sign that someone likes you. Salespeople sometimes do it with customer on purpose to generate a sense of rapport). A few times I curled up in the foetal position, my head pointed away from him and my ass by his legs, and every time I did, The Pedant would drape himself over the beanbag chair that sat behind me. It’s like there was a rigid four-inch dowel connecting us, forcing him to follow my every movement but keeping him from actually touching me.
At one point I dozed off, slouched somewhat upright against the beanbag chair. I opened my eyes to see The Pedant looking at me. “Are you still with us?” he asked, smiling. “I’m drifting in and out” I said. And The Pedant put his arm around me and gathered me up against him. Perhaps he figured if he broke our physical touch stalemate when I was falling asleep, I’d be more likely to interpret it as comfort than a come-on, I don’t know.
So I dozed fitfully with my head on The Pedant’s chest and his arm around me, and when I eventually shifted position to face away from him, his arm stayed around me. And then he started lightly stroking my shoulder and I kinda froze like a deer in headlights, wondering how to react. I love being stroked; it feels amazing and tends to make me very vocal. I worried that if I moaned too much The Pedant would think he’d crossed a line into sexual territory and stop. But I was also afraid that if I managed to stay dead silent and not react at all, he’d think the touching was unwelcome and stop. I didn’t want him to stop. I like touches and snuggles, and really need them lately with the mood I’ve been in. I fully understood that The Pedant was monogamous with his girlfriend now and I was fine with him petting me as an act of friendship and nothing more. I compromised on the moaning issue by allowing myself a little noise just to let him know I liked what he was doing.
After a while, the petting extended from my shoulder up to my neck and head, and down to my bare midsection where my shirt had ridden up. These areas struck me as far more intimate than my shoulder. That’s about when I thought “Ah, so he’s gonna do that thing where he tiptoes riiiight up to the line – doing things his girlfriend probably wouldn’t like knowing he did – but telling himself he’s still obeying the letter of the law because he never actually kissed me or touched my breasts or crotch.” I actually hate this sort of rules-lawyering, but goddammit The Pedant is my Kryptonite and his touch just felt so good. His relationship with his girlfriend has nothing to do with me – it’s up to him to stay within their agreed-upon boundaries. I opted to continue enjoying what was on offer while being careful not to initiate any sort of escalation. I drifted back into intermittent cozy petting-naps. I thought to myself that if The Pedant could convert what we had into a friendship that included petting-naps, I could be quite happy. I love fucking him but being petted is more important to my well-being overall.
I got up to get a drink of water and a snack. The Pedant kept me company in the kitchen, standing absurdly close to me and – I could see in my peripheral vision – giving me an intense look like he was almost daring me to catch his eye. I wouldn’t meet his gaze directly. If we locked eyes I knew there’d be a big-time jolt of sexual energy – enough to probably pull us right into a kiss – and I’m sure that wouldn’t fit into his idea of being monogamous to his gf. And he did say he wanted to be monogamous to her for the time being. As with the whole first-time barebacking thing, I was determined not to violate his stated boundaries but figured if he chose to violate them himself, that was up to him. I resented him for putting me in that predicament again, though – telling me he didn’t want to do a thing I really, really wanted but then dangling it in front of me.
The Pedant had arrived at my place at 9:30pm. At around 1:30am, we finished season one of Bojack Horseman. I asked The Pedant if he wanted me to click through to season two and continue the marathon. I totally thought he’d say he had to get going, but to my surprise he said he wanted to watch more. Which is almost a guarantee that he’d end up spending the night; the bus schedules after 2am or so get mighty sporadic and inconvenient. I was surprised that he’d opt to strand himself here for like six more hours, since I was definitely sensing sexual tension from him by then and we were supposed to be platonic so why put himself in temptation like that? But again I remembered the first time we fucked without a condom – how much delight he seemed to take in teasing himself (and incidentally me) with the thing he said he wouldn’t do. Dude clearly has a thing for forbidden fruit.
Now, I myself am definitely not immune to the thrill of temptation and taboo. I get it. I really do. But I don’t especially enjoy torturing myself with it. The Pedant for whatever reason is a weak spot of mine but if I met some brand new person right now whom I couldn’t have but was super attracted to, I’d simply avoid spending time alone with them. The Pedant, conversely, really seems to revel in deliberately pushing his own envelope. Or at least, he does with me. Maybe I’m his weak spot, too. But I do wish he’d figure out a way to titillate himself with his little temptation games without putting me through the wringer.
Anyway. I put on season two and made us some food and we ate the food and then I resumed my intermittent napping while The Pedant gently stroked whatever exposed skin of mine he could find. I woke up at around 9am, just as the very last episode was ending. The Pedant said he should get going, and stood in my living room to begin the laborious process of lint-brushing every single cat hair off his clothes (he’s ridiculously meticulous about this).
He lamented the fact that he was without sunglasses or a hat (he’s obsessive about sun protection but hadn’t brought any because he’d expected to leave my place at night). I said I had some sunblock he could use, and got up to get it, but there was only one path from the couch to the bathroom and The Pedant was standing in it. He didn’t step aside when I got up. I ended up standing awkwardly in front of him. He thanked me for having him over and I hugged him and the hug turned into a friggin’ odyssey of clutching and touching while carefully keeping our faces averted from each other so as not to kiss. Which was pretty ridiculous and I swear I wanted to point that out – to say “Soooo do you really think your girlfriend would be okay with what we’re doing here?” but I couldn’t make myself form the words. I restricted myself to types of touching that could still plausibly be considered “platonic” (if it weren’t for The Pedant moaning so much…) and at first he did, too. But then he started resting his hands on my ass and that definitely seemed to me to be crossing a line. I still couldn’t make myself point out the inappropriateness. I did manage to gently disengage and say “I should go find you that sunscreen” by way of causing a diversion and ending this whole farce – but The Pedant ignored my words and pulled me back into the hug. He started massaging my back and pulled my tank top straps aside for better access to my shoulders, which, again…not terribly platonic. But the massage was really good. Everything was really good. My only hesitation was over the whole “girlfriend” thing.
“I hope it’s okay if we’re still affectionate with each other,” The Pedant murmured.
“I like affection and will stay within whatever boundaries you set,” I said.
The Pedant took me by the shoulders and steered me around, indicating that I should sit on my knees on the couch with my back to him and he’d massage me some more. Which he did, this time pulling the back of my tank top up and hooking it over my shoulders (it caught up under my breasts in front, so those weren’t exposed)(but srsly, Pedant? This is acceptable behaviour for a guy in a relationship?). My back’s been pretty wonky lately and I really needed that massage – The Pedant had me pretty much howling. I took it for as long as I could (he was using a lot of pressure, which I love but can’t take for very long). Then I turned and sat on the couch the right way ’round. The Pedant tipped my face upward and massaged my temples between his hands for a minute, and then suddenly (my eyes were closed so this took me somewhat off-guard, though I figured it would happen eventually) he was kissing me. Which would have been totally hot if he’d used any finesse at all, but when The Pedant is really turned on, kissing skills go completely out the window. He was surely pent up from the twelve-ish hours of being “platonic” so he basically ambushed me with a sloppy wet avalanche of mouth.
Okay, I admit it, it was a little bit hot anyway because forbidden fruit and breaking the sexual tension and all that. But after a minute or so I struggled up out of The Pedant’s mouth attack and asked him “Okay, so where are your boundaries?” Basically, I wanted to know if he was cheating. And I wanted to know what he was comfortable with me doing to/with him, because this business of remaining relatively passive and following his lead was making me insane.
“I’m pretty sure I can do anything and it’ll be fine,” The Pedant said. “It was actually my idea to do the monogamy thing, not hers. I don’t feel like she really cares one way or the other.” (They were both poly and seeing multiple people before that, which is why I didn’t feel too guilty about all the ambiguous canoodling between The Pedant and I; she’s not the kind of person who freaks out over the idea of a partner fucking someone else. This whole monogamy thing was an arbitrary line they drew and I figured that even if The Pedant was transgressing with me, it would most likely lead to a wee discussion like the one I had with Mine that time, not huge betrayal-feelings and crying and shit. If this woman had been the monogamously-wired, “the thought of you touching someone else makes me wanna throw up” type, I’d’ve been more likely to put my foot down).
The Pedant reiterated what great long-term potential he felt they had together – god I’m sick of him using that phrase – and talked about how she has a lot of the same weird social glitches that he does. Things like not needing any contact between visits and stuff. Apparently both of them have pissed off partners and been dumped because of that stuff, and now they’ve found each other. It’s really kind of sweet and I couldn’t help but “d’awwww.”
He went on to say that he thinks he might be sorta bad for me because I do need frequent contact etc. Like basically I don’t have long-term potential with him because he assumes at some point I’ll get sick of these ways in which we mismatch, plus he’ll be giving me even less attention now because he has this other relationship taking up his focus. In retrospect I think he may have been implying that he’d decided to be monogamous with this chick for my sake – to end our relationship amicably before it inevitably self-destructs. But ultimately he told me that if I felt I could handle things then we might as well ride it out for as long as it’ll go.
“I assume I’m getting replaced as the one you’re fluid-bonded with, though?” I said.
The Pedant initially didn’t know what I meant, but when I explained it he confirmed that this is correct. He’s going to use condoms with everyone for a while, then get STI tested and if everything comes out okay, girlfriend is the one who gets his unsheathed cock. Not me anymore. “…But that was never the main draw, anyway, right? That was just the icing on the cake. We’ll still have the affection and the closeness and the power play – which I know you love, and I have to say I really enjoy you being aggressive with me.”
“Yeah. That’s the cake,” I said. I opted not to dwell on losing the “icing” but I must admit I am sad about it. I didn’t ask about his girlfriend’s birth control status, but I tend to assume she has an IUD or is on the pill since pretty much every woman on Earth seems to be but me. If she is indeed on birth control, she could pick anyone to fluid-bond with. The Pedant’s vasectomy is wasted on her. Plus it’s hard not to feel hurt that this particular privilege is being abruptly transferred from me to someone else.
But anyway. Allegedly The Pedant was free to fuck me and always had been (which made the ridiculous tension and self-denial of the past twelve hours a completely pointless exercise that he could have ended at any time…I’m fairly pissed that he put me through that). The (imaginary!) physical limits had been lifted off me and I intended on getting the sex I’d been longing for all night.
We continued making out while I stripped him down to his boxers. I’ll say one thing about his stupid pointless temporary “let’s hang out but not get intimate” rule – the self-discipline and sexual tension had left him so. Turned. On. He was in that state where he’d whimper if I touched him anywhere. During our ridiculous extended goodbye hug he’d been moaning just from my hand resting on his arm. So hot.
The Pedant and I moved to the bedroom and made out some more. The boxers came off and I started just sort of idly playing with his cock while fingering his nipples with my free hand. He said “you’re going to make me come.”
I stopped the stroking and nipple play immediately and firmly squeezed the head of his cock to calm things back down – an old sex-prolonging trick I’d read about somewhere (if you’re fucking and he gets close, withdraw and squeeze the head of his cock in your hand until the urge passes). “It is tempting,” I said, “but – ” and I never got to finish that sentence because The Pedant’s cock began erupting in my hand anyway. “Oh, hey…!” I said, startled, and quickly started jerking him off so as to milk the maximum amount of pleasure out of him. The orgasm hit him hard and afterwards he fell asleep pretty much immediately. I don’t begrudge him this; he works nights usually so this was probably just about his bedtime, and he’s bad at staying awake after an orgasm at the best of times.
Premature ejaculation – as you may know if you’ve read enough entries here – is a kink of mine. I’ve rarely gotten to witness it, though. It was so fascinating and hot. Like I’m sure when The Pedant gave me the heads up, he thought he was a couple minutes away from orgasm and wanted to give me the option of stopping stimulation and drawing out the encounter longer. But instead his cock just began throbbing in my hand, pumping out semen, even though I was only holding it and not even rubbing. If I hadn’t immediately started jerking him off, I think it would’ve been just an ejaculation with no orgasm – like he’d just been turned on for so long that his body was finally like “fuck it, I give up, I gotta get rid of this load right now.” A purely mechanical surrender.
So yay hotness, but at the same time I was kinda disappointed that The Pedant wound me up all night long with (I thought) no hope of consummation, and then once I finally got the go-ahead to sex him up it was over in five minutes without me getting the PIV or the orgasms I was craving. Kind of anti-climactic.
I cuddled up to The Pedant and slept, but only for an hour or two – I’d already gotten some intermittent sleep over the course of the night, after all. He hadn’t, so I left him in bed and went off and did other things for a bit. I went back after another couple hours and kissed and groped him a bit, hoping he’d wake up so I could fuck him, but no dice. I left the room again and fucked around on the internet for a while.
At I think 6pm, The Pedant’s cell phone alarm went off – presumably that’s when he usually wakes up for work, although tonight was one of his nights off. I went back into the bedroom, straddled him, and said “I have a date at 8pm so I have to leave in like an hour and a half. But I’m hoping for some action in the meantime if you’re up for it.” The Pedant’s rueful laugh did not inspire a lot of confidence on the PIV front. He did pointedly ask me if my vibrator was plugged in, though. Hooray! Orgasms!
I tried to make out with him for a while but there was no spark there; no urgency. The Pedant was pretty obviously still spent from earlier and just humouring me with the making out. I cut to the chase and had him stimulate my g-spot as I Hitachi’d myself to two tremendous orgasms.
After that, I gestured at the front of his boxers (he’d put them on right after his orgasm earlier) and said “Soooo are you open to me tasting you on, like, a purely recreational basis or are you just not wanting to be touched at all?”
The Pedant chuckled awkwardly and said “I’m still spent from before. I don’t think you’re gonna get anything out of me right now” and Jesus Christ how many fucking times are we gonna have this conversation? No seriously, we’ve been on a naked basis with each other for, I dunno, over a year now? And still every time I touch his penis (or ask to) when we’re not clearly in the throes of sexytime, he tells me I might as well not bother because he’s not going to orgasm. And then I explain to him for the bajillionth time that I’m not touching his dick to get something, I’m touching his dick because it’s pretty and smooth and I like to play with it. I think he genuinely feels like his penis has no merit except as a performer, and if it’s not ready to perform then it has no purpose and no worth. I mean he has no problem saying all manner of hurtful or blunt things to me so I think if the real issue here was “Hey don’t touch it when I’m not in the mood, it just irritates me” then he’d’ve said that.
But also? I hate to second-guess a grown man, but dude really doesn’t seem to have any idea when he’s up for sex. I mean five minutes after the whole “you’re not gonna get anything out of it”/”That’s not why I’m touching you” conversation, he usually starts getting hard and we do have sex, after all. This time around it was more like ten minutes after. I wasn’t even touching his dick, this time; he’d said not to bother and his boxers were in the way anyway so meh. I wasn’t actively hounding him with makeouts to try to get him going, either. I just snuggled up to him – logging some last-minute therapeutic skin-on-skin contact before I had to leave for my date – and was idly stroking his chest once in a while and suddenly he started making those tiny soft whimpers whenever my hand got close to one of his nipples. It happens so fast, with him: one minute his skin is just skin and the next he’s this sensitive tactile playground where everything I touch is supercharged.
So as usually happens his moans totally aroused me and I started kissing/licking/fingering his nipples so I could get an even stronger reaction. And after a couple minutes of that – and noting that he was definitely sporting an erection – I said “I would really like to bareback you one last time for old times’ sake. To actually do that with you and know it’s the last time.” And The Pedant immediately whimpered in excitement/anticipation and began to clumsily fumble off his boxer shorts.
He grabbed the base of his cock and held it vertical so I could lower myself down onto it, and he was just so vocal and squirmy and flushed and breathless that I expected him to come, loudly and extravagantly, inside of five minutes. But instead his moans kinda started to taper off and I felt like he might be going soft on me. He excused himself to go to the bathroom and as he left I noticed in confusion that I appeared to have dripped semen on his belly when I dismounted. A minute later The Pedant called out from the bathroom “Turns out you managed to get me off even though I had to go to the bathroom, which is quite the accomplishment.”
We talked about this some more when he returned: apparently when he’s turned on, it tends to block out the feeling of a full bladder so he doesn’t realize he has to pee; and yet, having to pee while he’s fucking will usually keep him from orgasming. This time, however, he did orgasm (or at least ejaculate) but it was so subtle he didn’t know for sure it had happened until he got a look at his dick after.
Dammit, that’s two anti-climactic climaxes. And after an entire night of buildup, too. I’d really been craving one of our signature super-intense fucks that ends in him coming so hard he has full-body convulsions and makes sobbing sounds for five full minutes afterward. I kinda wanna ask for a do-over next time – I want a proper send-off for the barebacking, dammit! – but I’m afraid it’ll look like I’m not respecting The Pedant’s request to start using condoms again. Like, I’m afraid it’ll seem like I’m whining for one more freebie every time I see him. I guess I’ll play it by ear.
I had to leave for that date so we hustled out of there as fast as possible. The Pedant kissed me goodbye on the sidewalk and said he’d see me soon (could he possibly mean that? He supposedly plans on devoting most of his free time to his primary partner now, after all…).
The date ended up being brief and kinda weird (I’ll probably talk about that later). When I got home I texted The Pedant telling him this and said that overall I’d rather have just continued hanging out with him, instead. He said if he’d known the date was gonna be so short he would’ve waited at my place for me to return. I said if I’d known the date was gonna be so short, I would’ve suggested that.
“We’ll get together another time,” he texted back. “As long as you’re okay with my nocturnal schedule, I can make time for you on a day off.”
I’m wondering if there are ways for me to generate that sexy “forbidden fruit” energy with him on purpose, without there actually being a forbidden fruit in play. Like, I dunno, going out in public with him (where he usually really doesn’t want to participate in public displays of affection) and then bringing him back here where he can finally touch me. Or inventing some bullshit reason why we have to be really quiet when we fuck and then going all-out to do the shit that makes him wanna scream.
I’m also wondering what the deal is with his girl. The Pedant has never lied to me as far as I know; he has his issues but a lack of integrity doesn’t seem to be one of them. So he probably does believe that his girl will be fine with him having fucked someone else. I don’t see how that can be true, but he knows her better than I do (I don’t know her. At all. Haven’t met her, tried to find her Facebook profile but couldn’t) so all I have to go by is what he tells me. Maybe he’s misconstrued some things about their relationship and they’re gonna have a fight about his night with me, or maybe not. It’ll be interesting to see how this plays out.