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I had a five-hour nap and felt human enough after to talk to The Dandy a bit. I asked him what happened last night – that I’d said I needed to sleep alone but he did that thing where he kind of ignored what I said, so I figured he didn’t want to go. But then in the end he did go, so…? I mean I told him I needed the bed to myself in order to stay sane and it didn’t occur to him to leave? Had I been unclear? Did he think I wasn’t serious until I went to sleep on the floor?

He said no, he got that I wanted to sleep alone, but then I was crying and he felt I needed comfort.

I said yeah, I did, and I appreciated that, but then he…didn’t leave…so…?

The Dandy just stared at me in befuddled silence. He never did tell me why he didn’t let me cry myself out and then leave, nor did he explain why he didn’t use his words during any of this. I mean when this all happened last night he didn’t say “yes, I will sleep elsewhere” or “I really don’t want to give up my bed” or “you should sleep on the couch” or “would you like me to snuggle you and then I’ll go?” or “you seem to be enjoying this snuggling, should I stay?” or fucking anything. At all. TBH I often feel like he heard that stereotype about women just wanting to vent when they’re upset, not to get advice, and he took it way too much to heart and now his automatic reaction when I’m freaking out – even if I am literally saying “I can’t make decisions right now, tell me what to do” – is to nod and smile and hug me. After all, I have a vagina and that means nothing I’m saying means anything, I’m just saying random things to blow off steam, and if he tries to help or contribute in any way he’ll piss me off. Except that’s not how I work and I’ve told him this. And I have actually said to him, on numerous occasions, “I can’t choose between these two things because anxiety. Tell me which thing to do.” I don’t know how much clearer I can be than that. And he still just nodded and smiled.

But he did tell me, just now, that he wasn’t mad that I asked him to sleep elsewhere; he didn’t feel I was being presumptuous or anything. I was like “Okay well can you practice using human words so I know what’s going on with you because when I asked you to go, you did exactly the same thing awkward silence thing you do when I ask you to do something you don’t wanna do and you’re trying to avoid confrontation (yeah, I know you do that, you’re not actually fooling anyone) so I spent a big chunk of the night feeling like an asshole.”

Really, this links back to the thing I told him the other day about wanting to feel validated. It’s really easy for me to give up on advocating for myself; to think that if other people aren’t really doing what I need, it must be because they don’t think I actually need it. I told The Dandy that I would have an emotional breakdown if I had to share the bed and he just kind of looked at me and didn’t leave, so I felt like he wasn’t taking me seriously.

I should go tell him this now.


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Once again, I’m working mornings all week. Once again, I CAN’T FUCKING SLEEP. Not sure if correlation or causation but it’s driving me mad.

Last night I was really at a breaking point. It was time for me to go to bed (past time, actually; I had to wake up in seven hours and ideally I need to sleep for eight to feel rested). And I wanted, obviously, to ensure that I got some decent sleep so I’d be functional in the morning. But I didn’t know how. I said out loud to The Dandy (who was at his computer noodling around while I lay nearby on our bed) that I was at a sort of impasse in my head: it was clear to me that I needed to cut down on extraneous noise/disruption factors as much as possible in order to sleep, but if I slept in the living room Dandette (who is on a wonky half-nocturnal sleep schedule these days) would almost certainly wander out in the middle of the night and it would wake me up/make me feel that I should relocate back to bed so she could watch tv or whatever. Or I could sleep in bed with The Dandy and lock Dickface the Kitten in the kitchen* but the way things have been going for me lately, every single time The Dandy shifted or snored or breathed it would disrupt my sleep. The only thing I thought might work is if The Dandy slept elsewhere and let me have the bedroom to myself.

Now, granted, I didn’t actually say the words “would you sleep in Dandette’s room with her tonight?” Not literally, not in so many words. But it’s kind of obvious that I wanted him to, isn’t it? What with me saying that having the bed to myself is the only way I saw myself getting enough sleep that night to stay sane? But when I said this, The Dandy did that thing of just sitting there awkwardly not saying anything, and that’s what he usually does when I ask him for something he doesn’t want to give and he’s too chickenshit to say so. So I assumed that he was tacitly rejecting this idea, and it’s his bedroom too (feels more like his bedroom than mine, really, given that he’d already been in it for five years before I moved in) so I didn’t feel I could push the issue.

Which left me with the other two options: sleep on the couch and inevitably get woken up by Dandette, or sleep in the bedroom and inevitably get…maybe not woken, but frequently disrupted in minor fashion – by The Dandy. I couldn’t decide. The clock was ticking. Finally I said out loud to The Dandy that I felt paralyzed and couldn’t choose between the couch or bed, and it was already too late at night and getting later, and the stress was killing me. I started to cry. I said I just needed to be told what to do, which option to take, because I was too wrecked to choose.

The Dandy shut down his computer, came over, lay down next to me, and put his arms around me. I assumed that was his way of saying I ought to sleep next to him. I let myself sob for a while, hoping it would exhaust me, as it sometimes does. I took a chance on not locking Dickface in the kitchen.** But even all the crying and The Dandy snuggling me and petting my head (and the cup of Sleepytime tea I’d made earlier with three teabags in it) didn’t make me feel tired. I asked The Dandy if he’d mind much if I listened to stand-up comedy very quietly on my cell phone; I’ve been using stand-up comedy to put me to sleep for over a decade now, so it’s almost a Pavlovian thing at this point. The Dandy said no, he thought the applause would disturb him. “You don’t even usually go to bed until an hour later than this,” I said. He remained silent. Maybe he didn’t understand what I meant, which was: “It’s 1am. I want to listen to an hour-long comedy special. Yes, it might not be something you can fall asleep to, but you rarely go to bed until 2am anyway so can’t you for fuck’s sake just suck it up because I AM SO UNDERSLEPT THAT I AM FANTASIZING ABOUT KILLING MYSELF AND OTHER PEOPLE.”

But I didn’t pursue the issue; I didn’t trust myself to be able to negotiate in a fair and reasonable way, for obvious reasons. I simply lay next to him awake for an hour or more, getting up to piss every 20 minutes because I felt like I kinda had to go and was afraid if I ignored that very vague impending urge, my bursting bladder would wake me up after I’d finally gone to sleep. So, a pre-emptive pee. And then another and another and another. Every single tiny change in The Dandy’s breathing was noticeable. At one point he shifted position and accidentally hit my face with his shoulder.

Finally I got up and built a nest of pillows and dirty laundry in the little closet/hallway area that leads to our ensuite bathroom and curled up in it with my cell phone, aiming to listen to my comedy and sleep on the fucking floor far enough from the bed that The Dandy wouldn’t hear much. At least there was very little probability of anyone disturbing me there before morning. The Dandy isn’t a frequent pee-er and if he needed to, he could enter the bathroom via the other door. If Dandette woke in the night and decided to hang in the living room, I was in the confines of the bedroom, kind of, still, so that wouldn’t affect me.

Only when I lay on the floor of the closet alcove did The Dandy say “I can go sleep with Dandette if you want.” Well yeah, I did fucking want that, I’d told him an hour ago that I was overtired to the point of some kind of emotional breakdown and the only thing that would fix it is having the bed to myself. But he hadn’t moved then, so…

I said I’d be fine on the floor. I didn’t want to make him abandon his bed, considering he’d refused to earlier. Maybe I was being presumptuous in even asking. I didn’t know. I couldn’t think straight. Everything I’d said to him that entire night was in a quiet, spooky, flat voice because I knew that if I let any of my emotions to the forefront I would end up fucking screaming at the top of my lungs, and Dandette was already asleep and her bedroom shares a wall with ours.

Only when The Dandy offered a second time did I gauge that it was okay to accept. He finally fucking left and I got some sleep. Better than I would have if he were in the bed with me, for sure. Although at 6am Dickface made a crashing sound (right in the bedroom, and I still can’t figure out what it was – I think maybe she leaped off her scratchy-sled thing hard enough to smack it into the dresser) that startled me so badly I screamed and jacknifed into the fetal position and both The Dandy and Dandette came running to the doorway to see what was up.

I just…I don’t understand why The Dandy didn’t sleep in Dandette’s room (or on the couch, wherever) the minute I told him I needed the bed to myself. He’s a person who can function on less sleep than I, falls asleep deeply and easily to a point where even being elbowed in the chest won’t wake him, and has a desk job. I’m a person who needs eight hours of sleep to feel okay, who sleeps lightly and has a really hard time getting back to sleep if woken, and who has a physically demanding job. I think my needs should have taken precedence here.

I made it through work today on my hour or so of proper sleep (and five more hours of light dozing) but my balance was all fucked up and I was getting headrushes whenever I stood up. There were a few standing poses where I spent the first few seconds just terrified and trying my best to hold still and stay upright because my vision had gone completely black and the room was spinning.

Here’s what bugs me: just a few days ago The Dandy moved to Dandette’s bed in the middle of the night because I was hogging ours and (miraculously) I was too passed out to respond to him nudging me. He’ll go when sharing inconveniences him but not when it inconveniences me? What the fuck?

Like, seriously – seriously – was my saying “I think the only way for me to sleep okay tonight would be if I had the bed to myself and you slept with Dandette” unclear? Bearing in mind that The Dandy is neurotypical as far as I can tell, or at least he’s been able to pick up on subtleties of all sorts in the past.

This has all been so goddamned frustrating and I still don’t feel I can discuss it with The Dandy because for some stupid fucking reason I’ve been home from work for hours but still haven’t had a nap. I am not in my right mind even a tiny bit.


*Dickface has been running around, scratching stuff, rustling plastic bags, stepping on us, and generally living up to her name at night lately. But if we close her out of the bedroom she’ll scratch the door loudly to get in. Ignoring it doesn’t make her stop, or at least ignoring it for ten minutes hasn’t, and that’s as long as I can stand it. She hooks her claws under the edge of the door and it makes the most terrible grinding sound.

**The other night when we shut her in the kitchen she crawled into a gap next to the dishwasher – a gap that leads to the space under the floor of the cupboards, and it’s a miracle she didn’t get stuck there. We recovered Dickface eventually and blocked the hole but I’m still a bit iffy on shutting her in the kitchen again.

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A post mostly about sexual entitlement

Last night The Dandy and I started gettin’ it on and as we were in the beginning canoodling stages I asked him more things about his apparently text-only fantasies (and told him that actually my sexual fantasies are almost entirely non-visual too – for me it’s words and imagined sounds and sensations more than anything). I asked him if he ever fantasizes about having sex with someone during sex. He grinned sheepishly and said yes. I said “Me too! ‘Cause, see, then it’s like double sex.” And we laughed together – him perhaps with relief – I think he was afraid I’d be offended by that. I told him how sometimes I’m actually narrating our sex in my head to turn myself on more. And how a lot of my wank fantasies are about sex we’ve had together except I’m him (I’m not picturing myself at all, though, except as a disembodied vagina. I’m all about imagining The Dandy’s sensations and emotions while carefully not thinking too much about the fact that there’s a woman in the scene).

In other news, I realized something today: The Dandy and The Pedant – my two main (kind of only, right now) partners –  are…kind of entitled in bed.

I mean, when I tell either of them to help me get off, they do. But I don’t think either of them actually offers of their own accord, basically ever. Not when I’ve just gotten them off and certainly not out of the blue. They did in the beginning but not anymore.

And yet both of them are perfectly fine receiving tons of sexual attention from me. I love making them come and they seem to just accept this as their due, or something. Every single time The Pedant gives me dirty talk, it’s along the lines of “I’m gonna let you touch my penis.” Never what he’d do to or for me. Even when I try to steer the conversation in that direction he steers it back to how much he loves all that penis-touching and how much he knows I love it, too. And last night I told The Dandy that I think I may (no joke) have kind of a fetish for his cock* and that I’d been craving the texture of it against my lips all day, and he magnanimously let me kiss and lick it for a while (I dunno, I guess I just wanted him to feel more like he’d hit the jackpot…). The cock worship turned me on and I wanted to have sex. Although I also kind of wanted more foreplay directed at me first, but felt weird about saying “I wanna fuck you but I want you to touch me and stuff for a while first,” like he’d wonder, if I was turned on and knew I wanted sex then why was I making him jump through hoops for it? So I just went ahead and climbed onto his dick. And it felt good and after he came he helped me come (because I told him to). But I feel self-conscious about taking up too much of his time with my needs and in retrospect this bugs me a lot because he sure doesn’t have any shyness or hesitation or worry when I’m making out with his wang for thirty minutes straight.

I mean, I genuinely do like giving The Dandy and The Pedant pleasure. It’s not like I’m doing it only for their sake. But I wish my arousal turned them on as much as theirs turns me on**. And I wish they didn’t take my love of pleasuring them for granted. And the fact that they don’t really initiate getting me off just feels kind of…I mean…how is it that they’ll lie there luxuriating in my attentions for an hour or more and not think to give any of that back? I love giving them pleasure but it’s not, like, my pinnacle of fulfillment as a woman. First off, just because I like giving pleasure doesn’t mean that all my sexuality is outward-directed and receiving pleasure doesn’t interest me; it’s not an either/or. Second, when I make a dude moan and squirm it doesn’t give me a warm satisfying glow of a job well done, it goddamned turns me on and I wanna get off. Like, hello? I’m not touching you like this because it’s your god-given right as a man to have your dick fawned over all day. It’s a sexual thing for me.

The weird thing is, both of them are pretty good about petting me when we’re not having sex. The Pedant would usually caress me absent-mindedly while we watched movies, and The Dandy does that thing where he pets my head as we fall asleep. Maybe my anxiety is making me all skewed and cynical right now but I can’t help feeling like my pleasure just doesn’t turn them on particularly, so they’re not interested in focusing all their attention on it, but they do know that being petted makes me happy so they’ll do it when they’ve got something else to occupy them at the same time.

I definitely need to have a talk, especially with The Dandy, about whether he enjoys my pleasure or what – and if he does, to consider giving me more of it. When we were first dating he once caressed my inner elbows for like 20 minutes because he was fascinated with the way I moaned. He used to initiate finger penetration, too, and I liked it. I so rarely feel like the focus of his sexual attention anymore, though. And unlike The Pedant he doesn’t compensate for that by being super fun to play with.


*Well, any cock that’s within a certain size range, not too curved, and uncut. But he matches those parameters so it amounts to the same thing.

**The Pedant actually has stepped up his game a bit recently, massaging and caressing me of his own accord rather than completely starfishing the second I touch him. But for years he did nothing for me. Our sex consisted of me masterfully reducing him to a whimpering puddle over the course of hours and then getting myself off while he dozed off. So I have some pent-up frustration.


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I mentioned to The Dandy a while back that having my head stroked/petted really helps clear my mind so I can sleep. He has since gotten in the habit of cuddling up to me and petting my head every single night (for a while, like 5-10 minutes), and in those moments I feel so loved that I could burst. He still has difficulties saying “I love you” but tbh as long as he still pets my head at night I don’t give a flying fuck about the words.

Last night, though, we were slated to go to bed at different times; I had to work in the morning and wanted my solid eight hours but The Dandy intended to stay up til 2am like he usually does. He had to watch some online tutorials for work and I asked if he could possibly multitask by watching them in bed on the laptop while petting me to sleep. He said yes without hesitation.

We also had some pretty productive talks over the past few days. Last night I went back to the topic of him not being able to picture shit in his head based on words, because I’m baffled by this. I’d sent him that link about the guy who has aphantasia (his brain doesn’t make pictures at all) and he’d read it and he says yeah, that’s exactly what it is for him, too. I said “But you said you fantasize when you jerk off.” He said yeah, but not pictures, concepts. I was like “well, so the concepts must be delineated in words, right?” he said yes. “So words can turn you on.” He said he guesses so, yeah. Which brings us back around to: what kind of dirty talk would do it for him? He still doesn’t seem to know but maybe the thoughts will percolate for a while and he’ll come up with something.

(Funny story: at one point near the beginning of this conversation I was kind of baffled and enraged, trying to understand how his brain works. He kept telling me contradictory-sounding things and I was like “but how does that even…what are you…which is it?” and finally we ended up in a standoff where he was in his computer chair smirking up at me and I was standing over him staring in a quizzical and annoyed fashion. And then I thought “I guess this conversation has gone as far as it can go” and I straightened up and started to leave the room because the kitchen needed cleaning. The Dandy became alarmed and caught hold of my arm and asked if I was okay and I was like “Oh, sorry, I guess that seemed kind of abrupt. I’m not mad or anything. I’m just gonna go load the dishwasher. But thank you for checking in.” The Dandy smiled with relief and pulled me in for a kiss and it was kind of adorable. And after I was done in the kitchen I came back and we talked about his whole not-able-to-picture-thngs issue a whole bunch more.)

He was seeming a little fragile by the end of this conversation and I would guess it’s because he’s used to Dandette reacting to his foibles like “What the fuck?!? You’re SO WEIRD!!!” so I sat on the floor by his chair, laid my head in his lap, beamed up at him, and told him that I love learning more things about him; it makes me feel closer to him, and it’s cool that even now, after dating a while and even moving in together, there are still more things to learn. That seemed to put him more at ease. 🙂

I also told him that the main two strengths I feel I have, sexually, are my dirty talk and my ability to read body language to figure out exactly where and how to touch someone, and The Dandy kinda negates both of those (not into dirty talk, doesn’t have any erogenous zones but his dick so there’s very little opportunity for me to get creative). And I guess I have a very dude-like attitude toward sex: yeah, intimacy and closeness blah blah blah but did I get you off really well? How was it on a scale of 1-10? Plz quantify all the things and tell me how I can blow your mind even more. In other words I feel like my value, sexually, lies entirely in what I do, not how I look or who I am. I hate not having the power to be better at sex with him. Like, what, just me showing up is enough? That can’t be right.

Finally I was like “Okay, let’s try this: would you characterize me as good in bed?” The Dandy immediately said yes. I asked why. He said actually, it probably is my ability to read signals. I didn’t expect him to say that, since he’s really really plain when it comes to sex; doesn’t care about foreplay, doesn’t seem to need any fancy moves, just puts his penis in and moves it around until he comes. But actually, there is the fact that the reactions he gives are very very subtle. Maybe other people miss them. I have learned that when I’m giving him a hand job, the only way to tell if he’s anywhere near coming is that his toes start to point. His breathing doesn’t change until the last second and he never tenses up or anything. There have been times when my wrist was getting tired and I was about to take a break but then I saw his toes flex in my peripheral vision and knew I needed to stay the course. And I’ve learned that he’s the type to go still when he comes during PIV, even though continued thrusting makes his orgasm better, so when he’s on top and starts to come, I start thrusting really hard and it gives him a bunch of extra spasms until the endorphins (I’ve come to realize it’s endorphins, not how silly it is for me to suddenly start bucking my hips up at him like that) make him start laughing.

The other day – oh, tangent, I was diagnosed with ADD like three months ago and had been putting off getting the medication for it, but I got it and had taken my first pill and apparently the angst I was feeling about all of this had turned me all anxious and navel-gazey (or maybe that was a side effect of the pill). So, the other day I realized that Dandette and I have a key difference in our anxiety that he should probably be made aware of: she’s terrified of being a burden and will get mad if you go out of your way to help her through an anxious patch, and I generally want help but am constantly convinced that my problems aren’t important enough to deserve it. I cited the time I had all the horrible bug bites: when I asked The Dandy and Dandette for calamine lotion etc. and neither of them seemed particularly invested in getting me some, I thought “Oh. I guess I’m just being a big fakey fakerson again, making a big deal out of nothing” and I gave up on asking even though the itching and stinging was torture. So I told The Dandy that having my feelings validated and being offered help is really important to me, and I told him that if for instance he sees me being on the internet super obsessively all day it’s not a bad idea to ask me if I’m okay because that is in fact a huge symptom that I’m anxious about something and trying to avoid dealing with it. Later, I told Dandette the same thing: it’s not her responsibility or anything but if she sees that I seem to be going sideways and she has the spoons to ask me what’s going on, that would be nice. ‘Cause I get into these cycles without even realizing it, sometimes, so if someone points it out maybe I’ll actually address the issue.

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After sex the other day I asked The Dandy what kind of dirty talk turned him on. He said he didn’t know. My observation has been that most of the time he knows his sexual interests perfectly well but just feels embarrassed to talk about them, so I gently tried harder to tease out some info.

What The Dandy finally said was that he’s entirely visual – words just don’t do anything for him. I said that surely if I described a hot situation to him, that would do something, no? He said no, words don’t make pictures in his brain.


“How do you read?” I asked him. He said he knows what descriptive words mean, so he grasps what’s going on in a book, he just doesn’t imagine what anything looks like. I can’t get my head around that at all. The Dandy is not just a reader, but a reader of fantasy novels. What the fuck is even the point of reading a fantasy novel (or any kind of novel!) if it doesn’t make a cool little movie in your brain?

I told him about a Facebook post I saw recently in which an adult man whose brain simply doesn’t make images realizes for the first time that pretty much everyone else’s brain does – that when people say “Picture this” or “imagine, in your mind’s eye…” that it’s not just a whimsical figure of speech. “So do you jerk off to photos or porn every single time?” I asked.

“Well, either that or I just imagine things in my head.”

“So you can picture things.”

“Yeah, it’s just that words don’t trigger it. I can’t hear or read a thing and picture the thing.”

“So if I say ‘picture a balloon animal,’ even though you know what one is and what it looks like, you can’t see it in your mind?”


Okay…I’m not a neurologist, nor do I claim that every human experiences things just like I do, but this…kinda sounds like bullshit. Or he’s explaining it weird or I’m not getting it. If he’s capable of imagining things entirely in his mind and “seeing” them, why couldn’t he imagine a balloon animal if I told him to? Like even if the phrase “balloon animal” didn’t automatically trigger a picture, for him, shouldn’t he at least be able to tell himself to imagine one and then do it? Like, what even is this?

Also, though, I feel like I’ve just lost one of my biggest sexual superpowers. My trash talk and dirty talk skills are legendary but on him, they do nothing. Add to this that he has no erogenous zones for me to expertly tease and play with and yeah, that’s my whole skill set out the window. Fawwwwwwwk.

On a side note, for a self-proclaimed “visual person” he barely looks at me during sex. I, conversely, eye-fuck him constantly and have gotten myself off while staring at his dick (actually forcing myself to casually glance away from time to time so I didn’t look totally creepy and fixated). And yet at one point during the above convo he still tried to tell me that my connection with dirty talk is due to me being a chick and therefore not as visual as guys are. Pfffft.


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Poly solutions

Shit actually turned out really well, though.

The thing is, I’m uncomfortable having sex too blatantly while Dandette is in the house. Mostly because of two things:

  1. On several occasions she made an offhanded (but slightly sad/bitter) comment that he clearly prefers sleeping with me (referring to actual sleep; she’s made it clear that he’s welcome to sleep in her bed if he wants, and he has when she’s requested it, but otherwise does not). The third time or so that she said this, she apologized, perhaps seeing the awkward look on my face. Like maybe she was actually trying to commiserate with me in a friend-type way, but how I read it was accusatory; like she was telling me I hog up too much of The Dandy’s attention and it’s bothering her. And if she feels this way about where he sleeps, I can’t help feeling that she’d be pretty bummed if he and I fucked more than he and she did, too.
  2. It feels like every fucking time we have the bedroom door closed for a while with The Dandy and I both inside, Dandette will come up with an excuse after to mention it. “Oh I had a funny thing I wanted to tell you but when I came to say it – whoops – you were having sex.” I interpreted this as her being jealous and kind of creepily being like “I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING IN THERE” (except here’s the thing – a lot of the time we weren’t fucking. Which makes it even worse, to me; she’s imagining a much richer sex life for us than we’re actually having. How badly is this bothering her?!?) but The Dandy said he thinks she means it as, like, acknowledgement and support. Making our sex a thing that we all know happens rather than a secret. That may be true. My anxiety is acting up lately and making me interpret things all weird. But at any rate I got so sick of her pointing out our alleged sex every time the door was closed for a bit that I started mostly fucking him furtively while she was out smoking and stuff.

So The Dandy had sex with Dandette – sex that we all acknowledged was about to happen, and I got to show by example what being cool with that might look like (to wit: smiling at them as they went into the bedroom and then shutting the fuck up and doing my own thing). After a while of them being in the bedroom with the door closed, they both emerged – The Dandy headed down the hall toward me, Dandette heading toward the kitchen/living room. I felt like I wasn’t intruding on any afterglow or anything so I took that chance to intercept The Dandy and say – with Dandette perfectly within earshot – “I would also like a penising. Come here.”

Dandette chuckled and said “have fun!” and I wasn’t particularly afraid she was being fake-supporting because, after all, she’d just fucked him. She was sexually sated and she’d gotten him first. I was taking nothing away from her.

I retrieved my favourite dildo and went into the bathroom to rinse it off, assuming that this was how The Dandy would be servicing me. But he was already in there washing his junk in the sink and hey, if he was planning to just do stuff with implements and his hands, there was no real need for that, so……!

“Ummmm do you think you’d be able to actually…?!?” and I gestured at his junk and made a hand gesture indicating getting an erection.

“Yes,” The Dandy said, grinning. “That’s why I’m washing off.”

“Oh you are the BEST BOY EVER.”

So I didn’t even have to settle for a dildo consolation prize – I got to feel The Dandy inside me and be close to him just like I wanted.

…Well, part of what I wanted was to feel/see/hear him come, and I guessed (rightly) that chances were slimmer than usual. But since I knew Dandette had gotten the fast/easy orgasm out of him, I was able to tailor my turn accordingly. Instead of being sort of passive and hoping to experience his orgasm before my vag got sore, I decided to make it a Hitachi Sandwich kinda day (Hitachi Sandwich requires a lot of penis stamina). I rode him until I came, and then we flipped over and The Dandy tried to “get there” himself but his thrusting muscles got too tired, and then I invited him to just jerk off instead but that kinda didn’t work either so we just snuggled.

So I didn’t get to see him climax but I did get very well fucked and was just a happy sweaty sore heap of limbs after. It was totally what I needed.

And we cuddled until Dandette called out that she’d made us breakfast. 😀

And Dandette didn’t remark upon us having had sex, like, at all.

I’m hoping this whole incident has defused some of the sexual awkwardness and I’ll feel more comfortable just blatantly being like “penis nao plz” instead of trying to be subtle for Dandette’s sake.  Actually, shit, maybe if I’d been like that it would have prevented her from making her stupid little “tee hee, your door was closed, I know what that means” comments by rendering them pointless. Why didn’t I think of that before?

Still, though. I think Dandette is mostly fine with The Dandy and I (honestly!) but that there is some amount of jealousy there. Most likely jealousy that has nothing to even do with me directly; when she was off her meds her sex drive plummeted so I suspect it’s not even that she wanted to fuck him and felt like I beat her to the punch, it’s that she wanted to want to fuck him but actually had no urge to and she missed it. Which means I wasn’t taking anything from her; I wasn’t hogging The Dandy or seducing him away from her or whateverthefuck; I was partaking of something she wasn’t currently interested in.

She’s back on the meds now, btw, and is a lot more pleasant to be around.

I do worry that she might not be great at initiating things; that maybe she does want sex sometimes but doesn’t let The Dandy know, and then if I claim his cock for my own use she’ll feel resentful. After breakfast when she was out for another smoke, I told The Dandy that – ridiculous though the request was – I kinda needed to hear him tell me that it’s not up to me to play hostess and make sure everyone is getting laid sufficiently etc. And that I’m not monopolizing The Dandy’s attention or anything. He reassured me that this was all true – if Dandette isn’t asking for what she wants, it’s her problem and nobody else’s, and no, I’m not hogging up all of his time and attention.

I feel better now.

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Poly problems

I’ve been wanting to fuck The Dandy since last night. But he’d just gotten home from work and Dandette had just woken from a long nap and I feel like she wanted to spend some time with him and it would be rude for me to drag him into the bedroom and shut her out. Plus I guess I just feel awkward having sex with him while she’s home, anyway. She seems to make a point of mentioning “I had a thing I wanted to say to you but, nope, couldn’t, you were having sex” every single time our door is closed for any amount of time (the kicker is, usually we weren’t having sex).

And then we got distracted by having dinner and whatnot, and then Dandette went to bed early and an hour or two later I thought, “here’s my chance; she’s probably unconscious by now and even if she’s not, she’s in her room with the door shut so if I fuck The Dandy I won’t look like I’m hogging his attention or excluding her or anything.” I asked The Dandy if he wanted to go to bed soon (it was like 2am by then) and indicated that I’d like to fuck him. He took a while winding up whatever he was doing on the internet and then we fell asleep weirdly fast and still didn’t fuck.

The next morning I woke up to an empty bed (well, empty of The Dandy. I had many assorted animals cuddling with me). I assumed he’d woken up before me and was in the living room or something. But then Dandette came out of her room and was like “When did I acquire a Dandy?” – turns out I’d been hogging the bed and wouldn’t move so he switched rooms.

Dandette told me that at one point she looked over and he was fast asleep sprawled out naked with an erection. The Dandy, btw, has an erection that sticks straight up when he’s lying on his back. I knew this was possible from pics on the internet but no guy I’ve been with was structured like that; their dicks always lay along their stomachs. The Dandy’s straight-up cock is inviting as hell and if I’d woken up to that, I would absolutely have climbed onto it (I’ve asked him if that would be okay before and he said yes). Just hearing Dandette describe it whetted my appetite even more.

Just then, The Dandy came staggering sleepily out of Dandette’s room and he was still hard. We all had a giggle at that. The Dandy peed (somehow) and came into our room and we snuggled on the bed (and he was still hard). We offered for Dandette to come join the cuddle puddle and she said yes but first she would go out for a smoke.

So she left and I kept cuddling The Dandy and a full five minutes later I glanced up from where my head was buried in his shoulder and he was still hard. Just…sticking straight up. Invitingly.

“Dammit, I wanna fuck you,” I said.

“So why don’t you?”

“Feels rude to invite Dandette to come cuddle and then she comes back to the door closed in her face.”


Dandette’s smoke breaks vary wildly in length. I think she gets chatty with people down there sometimes. I put my head back in the crook of The Dandy’s shoulder and waited for her to return. Five minutes later she still wasn’t back and he was still hard. Five minutes after that she still wasn’t back and he was still hard. And we totally could have fucked in that time, dammit!

When she did get back, she didn’t come join us like she said. She puttered around in the kitchen. The Dandy even loudly said “it looks like we lost a Dandette” and she didn’t take the hint. I still felt like it would be rude to close the door on her, and if I was like “Look are you coming in for snuggles or not ’cause if you’re not I wanna fuck The Dandy” she obviously would have felt unwanted and it probably would have been a whole big thing.

I waited.

The Dandy was still hard.

Finally I said “Okay, so here’s what we do: you go in there and give Dandette the right of first refusal” – I gestured at his erection – “and if she doesn’t want to make use of this, I will.” I figured that was the only way I could possibly have sex with him at that juncture and not feel too awkward about it. I mean obviously Dandette might claim his dick first, but if she didn’t, I’d be able to enjoy it without feeling like I was taking anything away from her.

The Dandy nodded and left the room (still hilariously a-prong). I heard their voices but not what they were saying. Then they both came back down the hallway and were standing outside Dandette’s room bantering. “Ah,” I thought, “I guess she wants to fuck him. Fair enough.”

They bantered a bit more and then The Dandy said “Okay well this is awkward but…” and gently started pushing her into the bedroom. Dandette made a sound of surprised realization and that’s when I remembered: The Dandy doesn’t use his fucking words. What I’d said was that he should go to her and basically say “I’m super hard, wanna make use of it or shall I give it to Cowgirl?” but of course what he actually did was just stand in front of her and gesture at his erection (I confirmed this with Dandette later). And Dandette thought he was just benignly (and silently) commenting, “can you even believe how long this morning wood is lasting?” and only when The Dandy pushed her bedroom-ward did she realize he’d been trying to make a sexual overture.

I’m annoyed that things worked out that way, though. I mean I guess The Dandy realized shit wasn’t working out according to plan (BECAUSE HE DOESN’T USE HIS WORDS GODDAMMIT) and that was the only way to salvage the situation, but it peeves me pretty deeply that he knew I’d been wanting to bang him for the past day or two and instead he fucked Dandette, who I assume hadn’t even been in a randy mood (otherwise surely she would have grabbed that lovely, ridiculous morning wood and hauled him to bed herself).

Humph. 😦

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