So if you’ll recall, The Pedant had told me (after prompting) that he could come over on Monday – and might actually arrive on Sunday night. I was annoyed by the vagueness and asked him when he would let me know for sure. He said “Tomorrow. :)” To be honest when he said that I thought “Ha. We’ll see” because he does not have a good track record with keeping me apprised.
By “tomorrow” at 8pm I hadn’t heard from him whatsoever. I texted him a piece of chitchat in hopes that seeing my name would make him remember that he was supposed to firm up plans with me. It didn’t; he responded to my chatty thing but that’s it. At a quarter after nine I grudgingly texted “so what’s the plan, Stan?” – I really wanted him to fucking follow up without me having to nag him, but it seemed like he wasn’t gonna do that and I disliked feeling like I was holding my Sunday night open for him for possibly no reason (and maybe my Monday, too; his wording had been a bit ambiguous and for all I knew he wouldn’t be coming over at all). I’d been wanting to see The Dandy again and it irked me that I felt I couldn’t because I was waiting for The Pedant’s dumb ass to get back to me.
By midnight The Pedant still hadn’t replied, although I could see he’d read my message. I texted “Right. Well, I don’t like being in limbo until the last minute so I’ll assume I have tomorrow night to myself.” After a few minutes I added, “And honestly I’m irritated by how much I’ve had to prompt you, anyway.”
Then I immediately texted The Dandy and asked if he’d like to come over the next day – that being Sunday. The Dandy seems to have a hard time leaving my presence so it seemed likely that he’d end up staying the night if he came over – though he would of course have to go to work. So that would take up my Sunday night (and give The Pedant time to THINK ABOUT WHAT HE DID :P) and yet still leave plenty of time for The Pedant to come over on Monday if he was gonna.
The Dandy ended up texting me back pretty fast to tell me he was out clubbing and ask if I’d like him to come straight over after. I was feeling lonely and neglected because of the bullshit with The Pedant (and also because Mine had been supposed to come over for the weekend but had to cancel because he was sick, so I’d been all wound up expecting snuggles and attention and then they fell through). I said yes to The Dandy coming over – and my will power sucks because one of my thoughts there was “Ooooh, if he crashes here tonight he’ll be way more likely to go home tomorrow instead of staying a second night…which means if The Pedant ends up coming through for me I can still have him over Sunday night.” Yeah, so much for teaching The Pedant a lesson by being unavailable.
At about 2:30, while I was waiting for The Dandy to arrive, The Pedant texted me: “Sorry! My battery died and I didn’t have my spare on me. I can come by tomorrow evening, but quite late, like, after sundown. Unless you’ve made alternate plans, of course.”
For the record, his phone battery excuse cuts no ice with me at all. I mean it probably did happen, but my “what’s the plan?” text showed up as read sometime around 11pm. If he’d firmed up our plans anytime during the previous 11+ hours, his dead battery would not have been an issue for us. And even as things stand he probably could have managed to text “yes to sun” or “battery dying” to me before his phone died.
I made him wait half an hour and texted back “I’m hanging out with someone during the day but I imagine you’d be safe to arrive at 10pm-ish.”
He texted back a thumbs-up emoticon, and the next afternoon he texted me again emphasizing how much he was looking forward to seeing me (“I miss you manacling my hands behind my back and slipping things into me”). Perhaps he was unnerved by my silence (even though he knew I was with someone else) and sucking up to me a little extra. Good.
Note to self: don’t ever have two sex partners over back-to-back again. The Dandy left my place at about 8:30. The Pedant ended up arriving at 11ish. I’ve been endlessly tired lately (getting sick, I suspect) and was exhausted, but there were things to do before The Pedant arrived: shower, try to air out the bedroom that smelled distinctly like fornication, throw out the condoms and condom wrappers, flip over the fitted sheet so the bed had a surface to it that wasn’t directly covered in The Dandy’s ass-sweat (I only own one set of sheets and there wasn’t time to wash them). Doing all that stuff made me feel a bit like I was running a brothel rather than preparing for a lover (“Time for the next guy! I’d better reset the bedroom to an unsullied-looking state so I can start the whole seduction process again from scratch…”).
And my thigh muscles were wrecked by the time The Pedant got here, so I couldn’t entirely ravage him in the ways I wanted to.
Those of you who have been paying attention will notice I mentioned condom wrappers and condoms. Yup, The Dandy and I had some good ol’ heternormative sex. I’d been avoiding that with anyone but The Pedant, partly because my other partners keep on having bigger dicks than I’d like and partly because I thought maybe The Pedant would be put off by me fucking other people so I figured I’d better save it for a really special occasion. The Pedant and I talked about it though – last time I saw him I’d mentioned having had a busy week for male houseguests, and I clarified that this didn’t include PIV. He said “Are you worried that you doing that with other people will be a problem for me?” I said kinda. “It’s not,” he said. So that was a load off my mind. When we first talked about foregoing condoms he’d seemed pretty paranoid about STIs so you can’t blame me for thinking he might want to wrap his junk up again if he knew I was fucking other people.
But yeah. My attraction to The Dandy is still kinda iffy and it’s not like I’m super in love with him but I’ve noticed that I tend to be suuuuuuper cautious about who I get involved with and then periodically I get sick of being so restrained all the time and I just go ahead and jump in headlong with someone. And The Dandy has a perfect-sized cock for me. And I loved that he seemed to be taking things at my pace and just enjoying whatever I offered; he never so much as hinted about us having sex, or asked when we would, or if I’d ever want to, or anything like that. I felt safe with him. But…I hate to admit it but I may have jumped into sex partly because I was worried if I waited too long he would start asking about it and it would wreck my good opinion of him.
At any rate, we were making out on my couch and I murmured in his ear “I would fuck you, if you wanted me to” and he grinned from ear to ear and said that sounded just fine by him.
Guys are so weird: sometimes they come and don’t know it. The Dandy and I started out fucking on my couch but then I wanted to move to the bedroom and when I went to put his still-condomed dick back inside me, I noticed there was a somewhat substantial amount of white liquid in there…and pre-come is always clear in my experience. “Hey, did you fire off a round before and I didn’t notice?”
He looked and said “I…don’t know. I guess so?” It’s possible he was just covering for what he felt was premature ejaculation, but he doesn’t seem like the type. Also for the record I’d been on top and pumping pretty hard out there for like ten minutes and had been getting bored so it would not have been “premature” to me by any means. Anyway I believe him that he came but didn’t realize it, although I don’t understand how that is a thing.
We started fucking some more once we were in the bedroom, this time with him on top. He’s got wide hips though and after a bit I needed a break because it hurt for my thighs to be that open for that long. He put his fingers inside me instead and I grabbed the Hitachi and went to work on myself. I was having a bit of a hard time coming; it was taking a while. He eventually pushed himself back inside me and used his body and thrusts to push the Hitachi up against me, as The Bunny used to do. The Dandy is fatter than I usually find attractive but I have to say that a squishy belly is pretty much an essential ingredient in a Hitachi Sandwich – if the other person’s body has no give to it then the vibrator gets mashed into me brutally hard. As it was, The Dandy’s thrusts sent me absolutely over the moon – although I still didn’t come. I can’t remember whether I asked him to withdraw and use his fingers again or if he just did it unprompted (I think the latter) but he did, and I did finally come, and just as my orgasm was winding up his plunged his cock into me again and it felt fantastic.
He never did end up having an orgasm (I mean…not one that he noticed…) but he didn’t seem to need one. He rolled off me of his own accord and snuggled me, and when I asked “How are you doing?” he intuited what I really meant by that and said “I’m good. I don’t need anything more.”
Funny how a good orgasm doesn’t necessarily connote good sex. I came really hard, and I think The Dandy showed some good instincts and good skills. I enjoyed the sensations he gave me. The Pedant, conversely, barely touches me (let alone skillfully) when we have sex. And yet the subsequent Pedant sex left way more of an impression on me than the Dandy sex. I crave more Pedant. The Dandy is more like I’ll partake if he’s there but I won’t necessarily crave the sex when he’s not around.
Really, The Pedant has me questioning some of my base assumptions about my own sexuality. For a long time I thought I was a “taker” sexually (there are people who love giving pleasure the most and people who love taking it the most and people who are an even split more-or-less). I was comfortable with the idea. But with The Pedant I am very much a giver because he’s so vocal and squirmy and hot that I love provoking reactions.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone who was more of a “giver” sexually, but I think that’s where The Dandy stands. His own orgasms are fairly mild by his own admission (at least compared to how mine seem to be – that’s also a quote from him). He’s almost dead silent when I do stuff to him, and I mostly don’t sense anything going on under the surface, even – when I try to do foreplay-ish stuff there’s no little hitch of breath or tensing of muscles or goosebumps or anything like that. I might as well be trying to snog a tree. But he seems more than willing to touch me for long periods of time, and will in fact start caressing my genitals and slip a finger inside me pretty damn often of his own accord.
I think our sex was slightly wonkus because I was trying to fit him into the same mold as The Pedant – I straddled and rode and tried to get him off and wanted him to make noise. But The Dandy is not for provoking reactions out of. The Dandy – it seems to me – is for catering to my wants. So maybe if I get myself into that headspace, I’ll enjoy him more.
He identifies as dominant though so I’m having a hard time getting my head around it all. Not that dominants don’t want to please their partners, but I assume they might not be too big on being given specific step-by-step instructions throughout an encounter, and that’s how I usually roll. But maybe he wouldn’t actually mind if I bossed him around a bunch, or maybe he’ll catch on to what I like and just do stuff without me even having to ask. So far that seems to be what he’s going for, actually. He learned that I like how he touches my g-spot and now he initiates that a bunch. He learned how I like to be petted and does that (the time I was at his place he ended up gently circling his fingertips over both my inner elbows at once until I was keening and thrashing all over the place…he made some awed comment that people probably wouldn’t believe this scenario even if he described it to them.)
I think The Dandy might be to me what I am to The Pedant.
Oh, funny story: I asked him what he was into as a dominant and he seemed unable to really tell me much (I kind of get the impression he played the dom for his ex-gf but maybe isn’t super into it of his own accord? Maybe I’m wrong). He did, however, tell me that he and his ex did a lot of breath play. And he smirked and added “So I totally know what you’re up to when you put your hand on my throat.” Ha! Busted. I’d never choke anyone without them expressly telling me they wanted it, but I do like wrapping my hand around someone neck just lightly while we make out, and thinking about what a vulnerable position that puts them in if I did decide to squeeze…