The Pedant had told me that he hasn’t been sleeping well lately and it had made him run late and need to take a cab to work for the past three days. I felt as though he was sacrificing a little in coming over, actually; seems like he probably would have wanted to catch up on sleep.
So as much as my libido was all hormonally jacked up and I wanted to try to wring more sexual activity out of The Pedant a couple hours after we fucked, I decided to leave him be. I figured the orgasm I gave him would probably chase off his sleep issues and he’d finally be able to log some solid sack-time.
After a brief post-coital nap, I went out to the living room and kept myself busy as best I could texting with friends, watching Archer, noodling around on the internet, and blogging about the sex we’d just had. But I couldn’t resist sending him a text to receive at some later time:
Just so you know, I’ve basically been sitting out here twitching like a heroin addict because I want to fuck you some more but I also know you’re pretty backed up on sleep.
ACKNOWLEDGE MY SACRIFICE. 😛
I’m not sure when the sex was done; I’d say by 6pm at most. I stayed out of the bedroom until after 2am to make sure The Pedant got at least eight hours’ sleep. Then I was feeling sleepy myself so I went in and joined him. Sometimes being next to someone makes me not sleep very well, and I debated just crashing on the couch so I would be reasonably fresh for work the next morning, but in the end the urge to snuggle won out.
The Pedant woke up when I came in, and asked what time it was.
“About 2:30,” I said, climbing into bed next to him.
“In the morning?” (he must have been really disoriented…)
“I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”
“I knew that you needed it.”
He got up for a pee break, which took a while and I checked my phone on a hunch – he’d been checking his phone, and had read my text message. I’d been assuming he wouldn’t read it until maybe after I’d left for work. Awkward.
When he came back in he said he’d got my message and thanked me for letting him sleep. I asked if he was hungry, and told him there was grocery store maki in the fridge for him. He said he wasn’t hungry just yet but would probably get up “early” and have it then. (He normally wakes up at 4am for work so I guessed that he was assuming he’d doze off again and sproing awake then.)
And then he wrapped his arms – his whole body, really – around me and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
Except that I was suddenly wide awake.
And I kinda had to pee.
I tried valiantly to power through these issues and drift off, but finally caved in and got up to empty my bladder. Came back, more snuggles. No sleep in sight. I sensed that The Pedant was awake, too. Digestive system started betraying me; silent farts moved through my system like bowling balls rolling over my bladder from the inside. Bladder pressure made me have to go pee again, and also stealthily try to pass as much gas as possible while in the bathroom so as not to fumigate The Pedant’s crotch.
Came back. More snuggles. Still wide-fucking-awake. Caressed The Pedant but he had strategically (or…coincidentally?) placed himself so I couldn’t gain nipple access, and petting his arm and side stirred no moans. I got the definite feeling he was tacitly refusing sex, so I did not ask. I could have played the dom card and told him to get me off – that might have made me tired, finally – but with him seeming so emphatically not in the mood for anything sexual, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Eventually fell into a fitful sleep and had to get up and pee again an hour before my alarm was due to go off. Never really went back to sleep after that.
At some point in the morning The Pedant said some things that I glossed over at the time but later realized – I think he was trying to tell me that when I came in at 2:30am he was completely awake, but stayed and held me for my sake because he figured it would help me sleep. D’awwww. ❤
He also told me I’d given him a huuuge orgasm the night before, and thanked me. It was nice to be thanked, but also weird because I get him off way more for my own benefit than for his. Especially this time: the horndog week of my cycle had me feeling all toppy and craving reactions. He was performing a service by moaning and thrashing for me. He was giving me the part of sex that no amount of solo Hitachi-ing could replace.
We attempted to have a quickie before I had to get ready for work. Actually I went from waking up next to The Pedant and talking to him for a minute straight to straddling him, intending to start up with foreplay-type things, but suddenly he was lubing up his cock and angling it up for me to sit on. Meh, okay, what the hell. Let’s mix it up.
“You’re the only person I could imagine doing this with,” I said (tactfully leaving off “…Because your penis is small enough that I don’t need to be super turned on in order to accommodate it.” And anyway that’s not entirely it. I’m also constantly a little bit aroused when he’s around, and comfortable enough with him that my insides don’t clench up at crucial moments).
“I would imagine with anyone else it would be dangerous,” The Pedant said.
“I’m not talking about the barebacking, I mean going in from a ‘cold start,’ as it were.”
“…Ah. Yeah, most women don’t like that.” (Oh thank god he stopped talking right there. It wouldn’t be unlike him to start telling me anecdotes about specific exes during sex.)
“Ehhh, I like foreplay as much as the next person. But I don’t mind doing it this way, sometimes. Also, stop making me think about ‘most women’.”
I guess The Pedant tried to segue the conversation into a way that I would enjoy thinking about women right then: “Come on. You can’t say you wouldn’t enjoy walking with me past a huge group of admiring women and slapping my ass and telling them ‘he’s all mine. You can’t have him.'”
“…Well, yeah.” And I would love that, in fantasyland. In practice I can’t imagine being so presumptuous, and also I’m poly so he’s not “all mine” to begin with. But still. Just like The Pedant’s sexy hotbutton word when we’re fucking is “slave,” my sexy hotbutton words are things to do with ownership. Him being mine. Me owning his ass. Etc.
The Pedant chuckled at my response and I kissed him, fast, to keep him from talking some more. 😛
It’s weird, though, because from what he’s said in the past there is actually no part of that scenario that The Pedant himself would like. Not the bawdy public display of affection; not the feeling of an ass-slap itself; not me being possessive over him or in any way indicating to a bunch of women that he was off the market*. Probably he was just trying to distract me from his gaffe of talking about other women. I wonder, though, if there’s a chance it came up because he has fantasies of ownership, too, from the other side. That would be…neat. 😀
Anyway, we ended up having all the sex. All of it. Because I really wanted to see him come again and he seemed really close at times. I rode him; he rode me; we took a break so he could get me off; he rode me some more; he took a break to pee and while he was gone I got myself off again; he came back and I rode him yet more; I gave him a handjob with my finger in his ass; right when that seemed to be getting good, The Pedant reared up, took my face in his hands, and kissed me passionately (with some difficulty; I’d been sitting between his legs so my face wasn’t that close to him at all) and said “I want to come inside you.” I got back on top of him and did my best (while he smushed my face between his hands even more severely than last time…he’s so fuckin’ weird, the way he’ll suddenly pick up a new sex habit out of left field…) but finally he chuckled wryly and said “I guess I didn’t have another one in me, after all” and I kissed him and ran off to get ready for work.
I can truly say that although I would have loved for The Pedant to have come, I enjoyed the journey on its own merits. This was not one of those things where I wasn’t even having fun with the sex anymore but just kept going to get him off. First off, our explicit D/s agreement has made me feel much more comfortable going “bored now” and just…stopping. Secondly, it’s the horndog week of my cycle and this makes me crave penetration; it also makes me toppy as hell, and presiding over The Pedant’s squirms and moans gave me just the sense of power I was looking for. Also, him not being able to come again even after, I don’t even know, twelve or more hours of sleep, kinda confirms for me that our sex the night before really was as epic for him as it seemed.
The Pedant was just coming out of the shower when I was leaving for work. I asked if he would still be there when I got home (originally he’d told me he would have to leave approximately when I did, but that was so he could catch up on sleep so as to be okay for work the next day. He’d caught up on sleep with me, though, so…). He said he really shouldn’t stay, but asked me where my gig was. It’s in a place more convenient to his home than my apartment is, so he suggested meeting me nearby for tea after my shift. TBH I really wanted another chance to fuck him, which a tea house would not provide, but I still liked the idea of being able to hang out with him a bit more so I said yes.
While I was at work, he texted me that something had come up and he wouldn’t be able to meet me after all. My asshole brain immediately whispered to me that nothing had really come up; he probably just realized he was sick of me for the time being and wanted to go home. When he texted a list of chores he’d done, unasked, before he left, my asshole brain insisted that he’d just done these things out of guilt over reneging on our plans.
I simply texted back “thank you for everything. <3” Asshole brain then told me that, since The Pedant was sick of me and probably feeling all claustrophobic and shit, the heart emoticon would probably seem over the top and he’d likely go silent on me for a few days just to decompress from my smothering, smothering love.
When – an hour or two later – he texted me again to list yet more things he’d done for me and forgotten to mention the first time, BAM – instant happiness. Which isn’t logically consistent really but I’m just gonna try to roll with it. I want to be happy right now.
I feel weirdly…ungrateful, or like a failure or something, for not sleeping well when The Pedant apparently stayed in bed and snuggled me expressly for that purpose. Also I wanted to let The Pedant know how much I appreciated the big list of stuff he’d done around the apartment before he left (yeah, I waffle madly back and forth between feeling like I’ll scare him off by being too eager and grateful vs feeling like I’ll scare him off by being not grateful enough. I know it’s weird. Also though I was maybe kind of wanting to…test him? Like, let him know how much this stuff means to me and then see if he still does it? Because if he feels smothered by my feelings but he likes doing me favours of various kinds for his own reasons, but then I say “when you do these things it makes me wuuuuv you!” then maybe he would change his behaviour…)
So I texted him: “You do of course realize that your domestic gestures leave me weak in the knees. Also, even when I can’t sleep, I still get more REST when your arms are around me or you’re touching me in some capacity. So thank you for that.”
He replied: “Yes, although I’ve never understood your thing for ‘domestic gestures.’ You’re welcome for the rest.”
So…he seems to be telling me that he does these things purely because he knows I love it. Like, he doesn’t even get why someone would enjoy such things, but he’s doing them anyway for my sake. That’s insanely appealing to me, but I’m not sure it’s entirely true. The Pedant is a person who expresses affection through helping people – he does sweet things for his friends all the time, too. He always seems to be looking for things he can do for me, and the messy apartment clearly needs attention, so…
He did step up his apartment-organizing activities substantially after I mentioned in passing that my ideal submissive would do domestic duties, though. *Swoon.*
*Oh, speaking of wanting to seem unattached, here’s a thing that bugs me: I found a comic that reminded me of how The Pedant interacts with my cats, and I posted it to his Facebook wall all “Look, someone drew a picture of you, Bastardcat, and Dickface the Kitten!” …The Pedant has not acknowledged this at all. He’s “liked” everything else I’ve ever posted on his wall, I think, but not this. And I’m wondering if he’s bothered by the familiarity; the way I presented the cat comic makes it maybe look like we’re dating in a way that the other kinds of things I post on his wall do not.
The Pedant once told me that he really doesn’t want PDAs with a partner while out clubbing, for instance, because he wouldn’t want any hot chicks in the vicinity to see it and assume he’s off the market. And yet before we were dating, if I ran into him at a club, he’d kiss me hello on the cheek, which I feel like he might not do with me now. There are numerous pics of him posing with various chick-friends with their faces literally touching, but when someone took a picture of us once he seemed slightly odd and standoffish. Or maybe it’s my asshole brain seeing patterns where none exist. But I feel as though The Pedant doesn’t like to be very public with his relationships and is so self-conscious about it that he forgets what’s “normal” for him. He has platonic chick-friends with cats. He tells me about his interactions with these cats all the time. Lots of women he knows but doesn’t date could post a thing and go “hey look, it’s you and Fluffy, ha ha!” and he would probably just go “Yeah, that seems about right.” But I’m wondering if when I do it he’s thinking “Eeeek! The relationship! Everyone will know!!!!” And he knows I’ll get pissed if he deletes it or asks me not to post things like that, so he tries to tacitly discourage me by ignoring it.
Orrrr maybe it’s time for me to look into getting on medication again.
EDIT: OH SHIT I NEVER REALLY SLEPT LAST NIGHT. My anxiety and paranoia always get worse when I’m underslept. Why can I never remember this fact ahead of time and brace myself for asshole brain’s bullshit? Feh.