The Pedant came over and stayed pretty much all weekend.
He’s been super helpful and attentive lately. I think othergirl breaking up with him has made him realize what a good thing he has with me. Or something. I’m a little wary that othergirl might want him back or he’ll meet someone else he really likes and all of this will be withdrawn again, but mostly I’m just focusing on enjoying it. If something happens down the road I’ll deal with it then.
I was having a shitty time earlier this week and wanted to take solace in The Pedant’s warm furry calmly accepting loveliness so I texted him asking “when can I see you next?” Often trying to plan things with him is like trying to nail Jell-o to a wall, but to my surprise he immediately proposed that he come over from Friday night til sometime on Sunday. And indeed, although he couldn’t give me an arrival time in advance he promised to keep me apprised of his schedule and whereabouts the day of, and did.
I’m pretty poor right now and feeding an extra person for three-ish days would be a strain, so I got up my nerve to text The Pedant asking him to pick up a couple of grocery items on his way here to help lighten the load. Like just a package of breakfast sausage and a salmon fillet or two; I have eggs and salad stuff here. He said he figured he’d just take me out to sushi when he arrived and I was like “okay, let’s do that then.” But he ended up doing both, and by the looks of it buying more salmon than he figured we’d need just to help me out.
Sushi was lovely, and when we got back to my place The Pedant stripped naked (as he often does, to keep his clothes free of cat hair) and surprised me with a gift: two big, sturdy dog collars to go around his thighs (so I could attach his wrists to his thighs; I’d mentioned wanting a rig like that ages ago), a leash (I…am not sure what he’s picturing, there) and a bondage collar. The bondage collar in particular made me catch my breath. I think they’re sexy as hell and have wanted one for a long time – along with a boy who would wear it for me – but I’d never mentioned this to him and hadn’t ever expected that he would be that boy. To be clear, I’m not into “collaring” in the sense of a collar symbolizing a huge marriage-like kinky commitment. For me it’s more a combo fashion statement/handy grab-point, but they’re expensive (I think usually a hundred bucks or more) and I never saw the point of buying one unless or until I had a good ongoing boy to put it on. I guess it would have been more akin to making someone my kink-boyfriend than my kink-husband.
I took the collar out of its gift bag, and The Pedant got down on his knees (albeit on the couch, not at my feet or anything) so I could fasten it onto him. The sight of the collar going around his neck was so powerful to me that I had to catch my breath. My hands trembled as I buckled it up.
“I mentioned the idea of thigh restraints like three years ago,” I murmured, trying to sound casual and distract The Pedant from just how breathless and wobbly I felt, but my voice was a bit unsteady, too.
“Contrary to what you might think, I do have a good memory.”
“Clearly,” I said, and used the bondage ring on his collar to pull him forward into a long, deep kiss.
To be perfectly honest, my belly was full-to-bursting with sushi and I would rather have waited and digested a while before getting down to the sexual portion of the visit. But what else can you do when your partner presents you with a bondage collar and kneels so you can put it on him? I mean damn.
I excused myself to pee and when I came out of the bathroom, The Pedant had fastened the dog collars around his thighs and was kneeling on the bed, hands resting neatly on his knees, head down. Just waiting, perfectly still, in an attitude of willing subjugation. So fucking hot, but I couldn’t help wondering…what did this all mean? Did The Pedant spend an assload of money on bondage gear just because he knew I’d like it and he enjoys bottoming to me sometimes, or was he offering himself to me in some capacity? Was this his way of telling me he wanted to be my submissive (whatever that even means, to him)?
Unfortunately, I find it difficult to talk to The Pedant about emotions etc. My default mode is total transparency and fearless questioning, but his default mode is opaque silence and sometimes when I’ve asked him to explain his motivations he’s looked at me like the question was kind of…gauche. So I’ve become taciturn with him out of a kind of peer pressure.He’s conveyed the idea that talking about emotions is Not What We Do. And honestly I think even if I did ask him about emotional stuff he wouldn’t be self-aware enough to give conclusive answers, anyway.
Oh, on a side note – because it’s arguably going to be relevant later – I did manage to ask The Pedant, a few visits ago, why he wasn’t able to tell me he loved me if he was feeling it (quick recap: when we were dating the first time around, I’d told him I was falling for him…and he said nothing back. Like as in I wondered if he’d even heard me (spoilers: he had). So I never dropped the L-bomb because I figured it might weird him out. Finally, during my break-up email to him when I had nothing more to lose, I typed the words to him. He wrote back that “the feelings are being reciprocated.” So all that time that I worried our feelings were uneven and I’d scare him off if I said I loved him, he loved me back. And wouldn’t say so even though there was pretty much no emotional risk to him in doing so – given my speech about falling for him). He didn’t really have an answer for why he couldn’t say the words. He just kinda shrugged and said “I dunno. I fuck things up in relationships a lot.” You’d think this would be frustrating for me but mostly it let me know that the issue is with him, not me. There was nothing about me that kept him from falling for me, or kept him from saying he was falling for me. He’s just…kind of a dumbass. Cool, now I know.
Annnnyhoo. I buckled my wrist restraints onto The Pedant and attached them to the collars on his thighs, then started making out with him etc., with him still on his knees. TBH my idea with the thigh restraints was to use them while he was standing. With him on the bed like that I don’t think the restraints generated as much psychological tension as they could have; just seemed like he was sitting there in a perfectly natural pose with his hands comfortably at his sides. I pushed him onto his back on my mattress for a while, realized that his restrained arms interfered with me properly straddling him, and unhooked the wrist restraints and attached them to the corners of my bed, instead.
And it will never, ever get old how much of a chick The Pedant is in bed. By which I mean, he takes a while to really warm up to sex – I could fuck him right out of the starting gate but that would be a waste since he really blossoms after a bunch of foreplay. Which is a trait we think of as “feminine” but actually lots of guys are like that and lots of women are the opposite. Still, if I say someone’s a chick in bed most people will probably know what I mean. It’s a useful, if sexist, shorthand.
Like…if I just grab his dick right in the beginning, he barely reacts. I could jerk him until he got hard and get on top if I wanted to, and I assume he would come (I’ve never cut to the chase like that with him so I don’t know; the most I did was try touching his junk really early in the proceedings and I gave up on that when it didn’t get the response I wanted), but I think it would be a little…meh. Whereas by the time I finally started fucking him he was writhing under me and making sobbing, choking, whimpering, ecstatic moans. If the neighbours could hear him (and they might have; he was being pretty abandoned) they would almost certainly have thought he was crying. So fucking hot. Goddamn.
I actually tried to pull back for a moment, like hold still with just the tip of his cock inside me, to prolong this beautiful agony he was in – but at that very second I felt him start to pulse with coming so I slammed down around him over and over to hammer out every last drop. And The Pedant’s body convulsed under me as his sobbing sounds soared to a peak, and even after he was totally spent and had pulled my head down into his neck (I think he doesn’t like me seeing him so vulnerable) he was shuddering and whimpering softly. I swear I’ll be fapping about this particular instance of sex between us for the rest of my life.
So of course he fell asleep almost immediately; The Pedant can pretty much always fall asleep at the drop of a hat, and if he’s come really hard he’s just…toast. I accept this about him. I lay next to him and got myself off (with him barely seeming to notice I was there), then went to the living room and puttered around for a while, then eventually felt sleepy enough to go join The Pedant in bed. He immediately clamped onto me in such a bear hug that I couldn’t move. At one point I wanted to turn over, and he sensed my struggle and loosened his grip – but only for a second, so that I ended up trapped again in an only slightly rotated position. I was flattered enough by his cuddliness that I just decided to go with it, and managed to doze off where I was.
And yeah, a lot of the time with The Pedant it’s still me getting myself off. But I’m not really mad about this anymore because there’s not such an imbalance anymore. I used to get so carried away teasing his nipples etc. to see his reaction that – between all the foreplay and then trying to get him off when he was overstimulated and taking forever – I’d be focusing all my skills and attention on him for literally hours at a time. Sometimes an entire day or night. To spend eight fucking hours catering to someone’s every sexual whim and get nothing back is bullshit. Spending like half an hour on someone’s orgasm without him giving me one back (but with him still usually at least cheerleading while I get myself off)? That’s not as big a deal. Plus I know The Pedant gets super sleepy after coming. It’s not his fault and I don’t begrudge him.
I read somewhere that cigarette addiction is basically someone trying all day to replicate the awesomeness of that first smoke after waking up – but the first smoke after waking up is awesome because you hadn’t smoked in a bunch of hours so it hits you harder, so by definition the only way to replicate that high is by not smoking for a long time, not by smoking more. I think it may be this way with The Pedant and sex, too – that first orgasm he had with me this visit was incredible and the next morning I wanted more, but the incredibleness was quite possibly because he hadn’t had sex for a while.
So pretty soon after we woke up I hit on him and we started fucking, but yeah…it was lacking a certain something. I don’t think he was even staying all-the-way hard, and he wasn’t vocalizing all that enthusiastically. So, mid-fuck, I was like “I think I’m gonna save this one for later” and I got up and put some breakfast foods on to cook.
My plan was to leave his body entirely untouched for a bit to let the arousal calm down, and then hopefully when I resumed sexing him later he’d be rarin’ to go from having been all riled up and then left alone until the overstimulation(?) wore off. Except we ended up making out some more anyway, and then I decided I wanted to put my fingers inside him. This is the first time I’ve ever initiated that with him; in the past it was always him specifically inviting me to. I asked if he wanted his ankles restrained to the bed and he enthusiastically nodded/moaned.
So I fingerbanged him for a while, during which time he took his half-erect cock lightly in his fingertips and sort of offered it to me, and I sucked it intermittently and overall it was superfun. Sometimes my ministrations got The Pedant moaning really hard and damn near crushing my fingers, although he didn’t come and afterward when I asked what it felt like he said it just felt like pressure. Based on his bodily reactions I’m gonna say he’s just not describing his experience very well. There were sex-type responses going on, dammit, and I don’t just mean during the times that I was sucking his cock. No way did my fingerbanging efforts just feel like a neutral kind of pressure, like touching someone on the arm or something. Maybe he meant a buildup of pressure in his prostate. I dunno.
Then I had to go finish cooking breakfast, and we ate it, and after we ate – I was lying head-to-toe with him – he started petting my legs. Which is amazing because I’d actually privately decided that I was going to demand pettings after breakfast. I guess he read my mind. I don’t get super mad at him falling asleep after sex so that I have to attend to my own orgasms but I damn sure want my turn being the centre of attention in some capacity on occasion.
The Pedant always seems to forget that my feet are an erogenous zone. It’s quite vexing. So he caressed my legs and ass for a long time until I was moaning and thrashing all over the place, but I had to specifically ask him to extend his attentions to my feet. He gently placed one fingertip against my sole…and then joined it with some others and started massaging me. I love having my feet caressed, and was hoping he was going to do that, but I like massages, too, so I just went with it. I taught him what I like and he got pretty good at it (although Minx is still the reigning champion – she can release the stress in my feet so hard that I cry and need aftercare!).
After a good long time of focusing his attention on me, The Pedant sat up and began fumbling with the ankle restraints to let himself free. Then he seized my shoulders, hauled me up into a sitting position, and started kissing me like his life depended on it. He has an unfortunate tendency to starfish during sexual stuff so this fit of initiative turned me on very much.
A few minutes of passionate kissing later, he murmured, “would you like me inside you again?” I said yes, and kind of hoped that he would keep the initiative going by getting on top, but nope, he lay back and held his erect cock upright with his fingers so I’d get on it. My leg muscles were already screaming at me from the exertion of the previous night, but I acquiesced anyway. I rode him ’til he came – a decent one, but not as showy as the night before, sadly – and then dismounted, lay back against the footboard of the bed with my legs draped over his, and got out the Hitachi to get myself off. I thought The Pedant might enjoy the view but when I surreptitiously glanced over at him, he seemed like he might be asleep. Also, the Hitachi-ing wasn’t really working. I felt that some penetration might be in order.
I retrieved my favourite dildo, put it inside me, and moved it in and out a bit as I kept playing with the Hitachi…oh hell yes. Alchemy. This was definitely what I needed. But I really hate multitasking like that so I nudged The Pedant and was like “You. Boy. You’re gonna fuck me with this.” He obligingly sat up and said “You should probably free my ankles” and only then did I realize that he hadn’t actually managed to unhook himself earlier. No wonder he hadn’t gotten on top for the sex.
So The Pedant moved the dildo in and out of me while I kept going with the Hitachi and this optimal combination of things gave me a ridiculous huge screaming “O”. And for some reason when I have a really good orgasm, it brings out my sadism hugely – which is kind of an issue when the person I’m with isn’t a masochist.
“Are you okay?” The Pedant asked. I was galvanized with energy, shaking and chattering my teeth and clenching my fists.
“You brought out my violence,” I managed to say. “It’ll pass in a minute or two.”
And The Pedant sort of gathered me up, laid me next to him, and cradled me tightly in his arms. Not in a frightened way; not like he felt he needed to restrain me. Just comfort. I was grateful that he did this for me; grateful that he trusted me enough to know that I would never unleash my sadistic side on him without his express permission. Although in retrospect maybe he didn’t fully understand what I meant by “you brought out my violence.”
If it had been Mine there (if we hadn’t broken up…) and not The Pedant, I would probably have finished orgasming and then immediately started belting him in the chest with my fists as hard as I could. Or yanking his head back by a fistful of hair, kissing him, breaking the kiss just long enough to administer a head-reelilng slap to the face, then kissing him some more. Or I’d latch onto some part of his chest, thigh, or upper arms with my teeth and grind down until he screamed. But The Pedant isn’t into pain, which is why I repressed all of that and was shuddering with the effort of it. And he held me until I passed through that portion of post-orgasmic weirdness and into the half-laughing, half-crying part.
After I’d gotten my shit together we went out into the living room to watch some episodes of Archer while snuggling, during which I intermittently dozed and The Pedant massaged my feet, unbidden and nonstop, for literally an hour or two. Bliss.
Then he asked if I’d like him to take me out for sushi again – he said he’d just as soon I saved the salmon fillets he’d bought me for myself. OMG the sweetness of this boy. ❤
So we went for sushi and then for a walk in the park and then we went back to my place and threw on some more Archer. This time The Pedant didn’t volunteer to caress or massage me, and I didn’t ask; we’d been having some pretty intense togetherness that weekend and I figured maybe he needed a bit of a break from all the touching. Although a few episodes in he did put his arm around me. 🙂
Then he did a bunch of Googling for me because I want to get what the kids call a “burner phone” to use with pro domme clients etc. and I have no idea how to go about it and it was stressing me out. He helped me narrow down an option so I didn’t have to wade through a bunch of technical specs.
Then he helped me re-do the shaved parts of my head (he has these long, elegant, silky-smooth fingers…gives me stomach butterflies the way he gently holds my chin and maneuvers my head where he needs it…TBH I’m pretty sure I shave my own head just as well as he does it but I love him doing it for me just to watch him be so meticulous and precise and feel how gently he treats me).
Then we went to bed at the same time, for once, and I fell fast asleep with his arm around me and my head in that little niche where his shoulder meets his chest.
The next day I had a modelling gig at 1pm and I set my alarm a little extra early, hoping for some PedantSex before I had to leave. I actually awoke slightly before the alarm went off,which was nice; no jumping awake from a loud noise. The Pedant had rolled away from me at some point and was sleeping across the bed with his back to me. When I ran an exploratory hand down the side of his torso, he stirred and moaned a little and rolled over on his back to give me access to more of his erogenous zones. I took a quick pee break and then came back and touched him some more, coaxing his body into heating up for me, readying him for fucking. He never once opened his eyes and actually seemed like he might be half-asleep through this whole process. Even as I swung my leg over him to straddle and kiss him I laughingly asked “Do you actually have any idea where you are or who I am?” and he made a faint “yes”-noise without opening his eyes.
I’d told him near the beginning that he should get up and have a pre-emptive pee (as a full bladder messes with his sexual functioning) and he sort of hadn’t acknowledged me. So I started fucking him and a few minutes in I said “Seriously, though: go pee” and dismounted so he could get up and go, which he did.
Sadly, when he got back and we resumed fucking he was once again seeming kinda lackluster about it. Maybe more so than pre-pee; perhaps the break in the action had thrown him off. But his sounds were nowhere near the fervour of that first night and I think he was having erectile issues, as well. And since I refuse to destroy my thigh muscles anymore for no damn reason, I took this as my cue to dismount, lie beside him, and get myself off, instead. I made The Pedant finger my g-spot while I wielded the Hitachi, which, damn…another pretty amazing climax for me. Not quite enough to give me the “I wanna tear you apart”-shakes, but still strong as hell, and The Pedant cuddled me through my subsequent alternating giggle and cry-fits. And god help me, while I was lying there in his arms, after a glorious weekend of him taking care of my body and its needs in basically every major way, I kissed him on the forehead and softly said “I love you.” He did not acknowledge this at all, and I didn’t expect him to. I know he loves me; he’s shown this quite clearly with his actions. I’m not positive that my actions come through so clearly to him, since he’s said he sucks at reading signals etc., so I wanted to be sure he knew how I felt. That’s all.
I was fully intending on just getting up and getting ready for work, then, as though The Pedant’s lack of orgasm was no big thing (and it’s not! I love watching him come but if he’s having an off day it’s not the end of the world and certainly not some huge problem we need to talk about). I figured if he actually still wanted to come, he’d let me know. Like, probably by pulling me on top of him again. But when I announced that I should start getting ready, he didn’t pull me on top of him; he surprised me by getting on top of me, instead. For a split second I thought he was just looking for a brief full-contact cuddle before I got up, but I quickly realized that his intention was to fuck me. “Yes,” I said, in case there was any doubt that I was in agreement with his idea, and I opened my legs for him. He managed to slide into me without either of us having to use our hands. And his cock just fits me so perfectly, and I love his smell and taste and just everything about his body, and he’s the only person ever to be able to penetrate me hands-free, that I blurted out “welcome home.” He cut off my words with his mouth.
He came fairly quickly – I guess he just needed to be the one controlling the thrusting – and the feel of him going off inside me triggered one of my weird sympathetic braingasms where I think maybe I get the brain chemicals of an orgasm but not the crotchfeelings part. So we lay together, both of us shuddering with aftershocks of one kind or another, and eventually he rolled off me but cuddled up to the side of me with his head resting on my chest – a position that always makes me feel fiercely protective and loving.
Then I really did need to hurry up and get ready for work.
The Pedant takes a thousand years to be ready to go anywhere, so I invited him to take all the time he needed and just let himself out after – the door locks automatically and I trust him to be in my apartment alone. Last time I made this offer he insisted on leaving with me (and lagged behind me infuriatingly), but mercifully this time he accepted. In the meantime, I started cooking us breakfast but ran out of time so rapidly that only the sausages actually got cooked – I didn’t have time to start any eggs. The Pedant ended up standing in the hallway holding the finished plateful of sausages as I bustled around gathering up my stuff and getting dressed. Every time I passed him I’d pick up a sausage and take a bite, or he’d pick one up and feed me a bite. I’d put on six of them, intending them to be for both of us, but he said “You need them more than I do” and kept feeding me until they were gone. I was still chewing the last bite as I went out the door. When I said goodbye to him he said “It was good seeing you this weekend” and I was in such a hurry that I just kind of distractedly kissed him (mouth closed, obvs, because sausage) and left and his words – and the sweet, warm smile he gave me as he said them – kinda didn’t hit me until I was already outside. I wish I’d said something but I did drop an I-love-you earlier so I’m not gonna get too bent out of shape about not properly responding to his moment of mushiness.
A while after I got home, he texted “Good seeing you. My errands weren’t entirely successful. Also, I think I left the cover to my lint roller on the shelf by your door.”
I like that The Pedant sent a text reiterating that he’d had a good time. I’m accustomed to an intense romantic/sexual time with someone being followed up with some sort of recap/reinforcement, and he hasn’t always done this. Like, at all.
Here’s something that drives me nuts, though: I texted back confirming that he had left his lint roller cover here, and also observing that at one point during the sex that weekend I’d briefly and experimentally choked him a whole lot harder than usual and asking if that was okay or a bit too much.
He read that message as soon as I sent it (it wasn’t technically a text, it was a WhatsApp message and with those it tells you if the person saw your message and when they last opened the app) but he hasn’t replied.
The paranoid part of me is insinuating meanly to me that The Pedant hasn’t answered because he was traumatized by the choking and is trying to figure out a polite way of saying so. The logical part, however, recognizes that he acted lovely and happy both before and after my little “experiment” – no weirdness, silence, etc. – and that he’s not generally a person who pussyfoots around trying to figure out how to say things delicately. I’m sure he’s fine.
I don’t know why he couldn’t take two seconds to type out a response, though. Odds are he is not having complicated, hard-to-express thoughts about this – probably he’ll just be like “Yeah can you not be so rough in future kthx” – so why didn’t he just say that? Why leave me hanging?
Meh, he’s an odd duck. The sooner I come to terms with this, the happier I’ll be.