Sexual musings re: The Dandy

When The Dandy was here yesterday it came up that he really has no erogenous zones except his mouth and his penis: kiss him and touch his dick and he’s good to start fuckin’. I’d already tentatively come to that conclusion myself, but now he’s actually said it to me. I do wonder if that’s really true or if (like so many guys) he just kinda never learned to listen to his body. Later on when we were watching DVDs I was caressing his back and noticed it gave him goosebumps.

I’m not gonna insist that The Dandy must be wrong about his own body, but I’m not totally closing the door on giving him foreplay that’s not kissing or blowjobs, either. I feel there might be some room to expand his horizons.

The Dandy, incidentally, is a Taurus, astrologically speaking. When I’m seeing someone I’ll often look up how their sign and mine tend to get along together, just for fun. The Pedant is also a Taurus so I already know this one. Aries (that’s me) is fiery and creative in bed but often tends to cut to the chase (accurate) while Taurus is very meat-and-potatoes utilitarian in bed, though sensual and slow. Sometimes, Taurus ends up teaching Aries the value of slowing down and savouring sex more, which can be a great thing. Other times, Aries gets bored with Taurus’ lack of inventiveness. TBH the Taurus part sounds bang-on for The Dandy and I do wonder if he’ll start to bore me a bit, especially once I manage to get out of my current malaise and my kinky side comes roaring back.

We had some great sex yesterday, though. Something about the size and shape of his penis feels really good and turns me on more than PIV with other people usually has, so after a few minutes of riding him I reached over, got my Hitachi Magic Wand, and tried to sit up and get myself off while still movin’ around on The Dandy’s cock. I haven’t been able to get off sitting up in years though so this rather predictably didn’t work. After a few minutes I gave up and tried my luck with jackknifing my body so my torso was on his, sandwiching the Hitachi between us and kinda humping it (and by extension him). It makes me self-conscious, doing that. The way I need to wriggle around to get off in that position feels like it looks stupid and I keep expecting my partner to make a snarky remark. Plus the way I need to move is more grindy than thrusty and a lot of guys (including The Pedant) don’t get enough stimulation from it to stay hard. But The Dandy stayed hard and didn’t say anything to make me feel weird. Also he thrust back at me and – I’m pretty sure – purposely flexed his cock inside me sometimes so I could feel the twitch. I love that.

I came incredibly hard – so hard that I was suffused with violence and kind of wanted to start throwing punches. Instead I flung the Hitachi aside and kept thrusting, this time in a broad to-and-fro intended to get The Dandy off. He came within a few minutes, and it looked like a good one. From what I can tell he’s one of those people who automatically goes still when he comes and yet if stimulation continues, it makes his orgasm better. So when he began to come he stopped thrusting up at me, but I kept pounding him and drawing out wave after wave of spasms and breathing sounds and sporadic startled chuckles from him. Like it just went on and on. And I was still all feral and violent from my own orgasm, and I snarled in his ear “until nothing but dust comes out, bitch!” and he laughed and his laughter dissolved into more strangled little noises as I pounded him some more.

I have such a bangover today. I’m used to my legs being stiff the day after sex, so nothing new there, but in this particular encounter I had shoved my hands under The Dandy’s back at one point and was sorta crushing him in my arms as I strained toward coming, so my biceps are totally fucked today.

Anyway. Speaking of sexually utilitarian Tauruses, yesterday I asked The Dandy to tell me a sexual fantasy he has – something feasible that maybe I could help bring to fruition. I knew he wasn’t gonna say anything too fancy or contrived (no costumes or role play or fucking machines, for instance) but I still figured there’d be something. My money was on “FMF threesome.” But no, he said that when he jerks off he usually just thinks about having vanilla sex with someone. Well then. 😛

But y’know…in some says, I’m sexually utilitarian, too. Like, sometimes I see women on Fetlife talking about how their partner gives them the most mindblowing orgasms they’ve ever had, and I don’t understand what that means. Often these seem to be fairly experienced women who’ve been having orgasms for years, but their current partner touched them with all this finesse and did a bunch of sneaky, skillful tricks and they ended up having some whole new level of orgasms. And I do not think that’s possible for me. I don’t think I have any mystical other level. What many people seem to see as skill and finesse usually involves touching lightly and changing things up all the time, which to me is adequate to get me aroused but once I’m craving an orgasm I want the same exact simple, repetitive motion to get me there. Don’t switch things up, don’t show off your manual dexterity by doing a fancy little flick of your wrist. Just rub me right here, straight up and down with steady pressure, until I tell you to stop.

I suppose if a guy managed to give me a different kind of orgasm than I’d ever had before, I’d be blown away by his prowess. My orgasms come from external clitoral stimulation, and always have. And I am in my forties. If some dude came along at this point in my life and got me off just by rummaging around inside me, yeah, I’d probably be all “he blew my mind! He took my body to a whole other level!” blah blah blah. But, you guys…I’ve been fingerbanged a lot. Guys have been gentle, guys have been rough, guys have targeted my g-spot very precisely, guys have been more general, guys have gone looking for other, non-g-spot areas that might be of interest. And none of it gave me the same “holy shit, this has potential!!!” feeling that discovering my clit did when I was a kid. Even when I let a guy keep fingering my insides for ten or fifteen straight minutes, it never felt like anything was building up. At worst, it the sensation of fingers inside me hurts and makes me have to pee. At best, it’s a moderately pleasurable feeling that turns me on and makes me crave external clitoral stimulation – and that’s the most it ever is, even after quite a while. So I frankly can’t imagine what the fuck a guy could do up in there that would make me come.

So I’m not looking for a guy to discover my body and bring me to some higher plane, sexually. I don’t really think there’s anything to discover or any higher plane for me to go to. I just want a guy who’s fine with exactly the way I orgasm right now, and can reliably make it happen. That’s it. If he can do that, I consider the sex to have been good.

Oh, another thing that happened when The Dandy was over, as we were making out and kinda gearing up for sex: we were discussing our respective STI testing statuses. We both admitted we hadn’t been tested in a while; by way of reassurance, he pointed out that he’d been in two long-term monogamous relationships in a row, and I mentioned that I’m fairly selective about PIV. Like, that I have ongoing partners who have never been inside me. PIV is never a given, even when I’m on a sexual basis with someone. The Dandy said “I must be really special, then” and I agreed with that. We’d been lying face to face and sporadically kissing, but when I concurred that he is indeed a special case for me, he put his hand on the back of my head and mashed my face against his chest so I couldn’t make eye contact, and kept me clamped in like that for a while. I suspect that what I said had hit him hard emotionally and he didn’t want me to see it. It’s endearing that he (maybe?) was overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of me allowing him privileges I don’t dole out to just anyone, but I hope that he can get to a point where he’ll let me actually see his vulnerability. The Pedant hid his feelings by mashing my face into his chest all the time and I’m about fed up with it now.

This in turn reminds me of another thing The Dandy has in common with The Pedant: at one time or another I’ve asked both of them how many people they’ve slept with, and they told me but didn’t turn the question back on me. I approve of this. I asked them their “magic numbers” because in my experience it’s really hard to predict how many people anyone’s fucked. Hot, outgoing, or good-in-bed people have not necessarily had a whole lot of sex. Socially awkward, weird-looking, or mediocre-in-bed people have not necessarily had very little sex. I’ve been conducting a sort of ongoing, informal poll ever since I figured this out, just to remind myself that the stereotypes don’t hold water. But women’s sexual experience has been used against us so much that “what’s your number?” is a really fraught thing to ask. I would have a hard time believing that a partner was truly just curious and wouldn’t judge my answer. So I’m glad The Pedant and The Dandy opted not to ask.

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