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…But is The Dandy satisfied, though?

I just remembered that he never made a move to get Dandette off, either, during the time the three of us lived here – and he said it’s because the relationship wasn’t working out. Like, he actually didn’t want to be getting sexual with her at all or even dating her, but he was afraid that if he turned her down or broke things off she’d threaten to kill herself. So he didn’t initiate sex and when she initiated he would do the absolute minimum necessary to get through it and keep the peace.

I swear The Dandy used to put more effort into sex with me. Certainly he initiated a lot more often, even a few months ago. And he used to be more receptive to sex, too – I like his penis and I give it friendly gropes all the time, and once upon a time he’d get hard from this pretty often and I might very well take our activities in a more blatantly sexual direction. Lately it’s rare that he gets erections from my attention.

To add insult to injury he makes references all the time to generally being a horndog and jerking off four times a day and shit. So why is so little of that being spent on me? And then of course when we do have sex he basically ignores me.

I’ve pointed some of this out before – several different times – and asked him if he has some issue with me that’s getting in the way of intimacy. He always says he doesn’t.

I feel like my stable living situation depends on The Dandy feeling fulfilled by our interactions, so naturally I kinda want to keep pulling at this thread and get to the bottom of things. To fix – if I can – whatever might be screwing things up, so I’m not stuck in a relationship that’s dead on both sides. And maybe if I do fix the issue(s), The Dandy’s increased happiness will translate to him caring more about my needs and actually things will start feeling less bleak on my end, too. Although pulling the “is it something I did?” thread could just bite me in the ass, if he ends up realizing he does have issues with me and that they aren’t solvable.

Another part of me wonders if he’s just straight-up taking me for granted. I’ve been the higher-sex-drive partner in pretty much all of my relationships, and often my partners stopped initiating because a) I was approaching them for sex often enough to meet their needs anyway and b) there was no thrill of pursuit, no tantalizing possibility that if they initiated I might say no thanks. They figured me for a sure thing, which meant they didn’t have to try anymore. And sometimes they felt threatened by my high drive, too – like it emasculated them or whatever. Anyway my point is they stopped ever initiating because I was too available.

I know The Dandy has a high sex drive and I want to make sure he’s feeling fulfilled with me. Also I like getting him off. Also I’m trying to demonstrate how I’d want The Dandy to act with me. Also sexual intercourse makes me feel closer to my partner and I want it to happen regularly in my relationships whether I’m actually horny or not, just as a kind of maintenance thing.  So even though my own sexual desire and responses have been on the fritz lately, I’ve still been ambushing The Dandy with random blow jobs and tying to initiate sex a couple times a week. And needless to say when sexual stuff does happen I unfurl all my skills and try to do it well, as is my wont. But like I said in the previous post, The Dandy barely attempts to give me pleasure in return, and that’s bullshit. So part of me wants to give up on the sex entirely; just back off and see what happens. Will he be astounded to realize that sucking his cock is not in fact my highest calling in life and I had in fact been doing that mostly for him? Will my lack of interest throw him off-balance and make him chase after me for a change? Certainly not trying anymore sexually would free up a whole lot of my time and energy. But, again, I worry it would jeopardize my living situation.

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Smooth criminal

Speaking of being discreet about The Pedant’s and my sex life…

A while back, The Dandy brought up for some reason that The Pedant definitely doesn’t seem like someone who would ever submit. “He sure doesn’t,” I agreed, cheerfully. The Pedant is kind of a loud rude asshole to most people and if you only knew him casually it would be very difficult to imagine him shutting up and doing what he’s told, like, ever. Also he has a bit of misogyny to him; he doesn’t realize he does, and deflects any time I call him out on it, but yeah. So you really wouldn’t expect him to let a woman boss him around.

Because of the aforementioned misogyny (and because it took him years to calm the fuck down, stop trying to top me, and admit that what he really wanted was to surrender), I assume The Pedant would be mortified if other people knew what we get up to in bed. Plus, I mean, it’s basic courtesy not to gossip about one’s partner’s sexual details with other people.* So when The Dandy speculated about The Pedant’s kinks or lack of them, I revealed nothing. It’s not his business.

I was longing to tell him, though, in probably about the same way that a serial killer longs to confess their crimes so the someone can finally appreciate the incredible things they’ve gotten away with. (This is actually a thing, apparently: serial killers who were nowhere near being caught but ended up spilling the beans just because it was driving them crazy that they’d pulled off this complicated, outrageous thing perfectly and nobody knew…)

But I think The Pedant “confessed” for me when he left that butt plug in the sink last time he was over. The Dandy hasn’t said anything about it (presumably out of a sense of discretion of his own) but he definitely used that bathroom while the item was in the sink and would have seen it, and he knows I’d never wear such a thing myself, so by process of deduction…

And there have been other tiny clues that The Pedant is at least bottoming to me, like me wanting to buy nitrile gloves right before The Pedant came over, or the sheer amount of shit I would pack when we’d spend the night in a hotel or guest suite, or me being super keen for The Dandy to help me put attach points on my new bedframe when he and The Pedant are the only men in my life right now and The Dandy doesn’t like bondage.

The Dandy never did get around to adding those attach points, btw, so I looped dog leashes around each corner of the bedframe, instead, and attached The Pedant’s wrist and ankle restraints to those. And since The Pedant felt free to leave his used butt plug lying in a common area of the apartment on that visit, I’ve decided that discretion must not be that important to him and it’ll be fine to leave the leashes where they are. Which saves me some time and energy. So that’s nice.


*Although I’ve told friends that The Dandy identifies as dominant without feeling like it was a scandalous or overly personal thing to share. I guess because a man being dominant isn’t generally considered weird, while a man being submissive is going against the grain.

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Prissiness vs privacy

When Mine and I were seeing each other, he’d always wash the sex toys after we were done. Which was a revelation to me because nobody I’d been with before that ever did and why the fuck were these guys benefiting from my toy collection and anal expertise and then just going home and leaving me with a sink full of stuff to clean? Why should I be motivated to get them off in all my delightfully freaky ways if I know I’m gonna end up with mildly disgusting chores to do afterward?

The Pedant is no exception. I’ve even brought up to him that I’d like him to wash the ass-toys when we’re done with them and he still hasn’t; he leaves them in the sink. He’s washed stuff that goes in my vag, but apparently dealing with trace amounts of shit is just too much for his delicate sensibilities to bear.*

As you all probably know, I live with The Dandy now. The Pedant came over recently for a weekend of sexual shenanigans and I was so very curious about how he’d handle the ass-toy issue. On one hand, The Pedant doesn’t seem like someone who’d want his dude-friend The Dandy knowing about his bottom/submissive tendencies. On the other hand, The Pedant has never ever deigned to wash an ass-toy even when I’ve directly asked him to. So what would he do?

He left the butt plug sitting in the bathroom sink.

So The Pedant would rather The Dandy infer that I’d been plugging that sweet, sweet ass than nick some gloves from the box in my bedroom and give the plug a wash so we could put it back in the drawer.



*And that’s another thing: it speaks volumes to me that many of my ass-play partners identified as submissive – even, occasionally, to a point of claiming that women are superior to men – and yet these guys would relegate the cleaning of their shit to me.


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Not much time to write at the moment but I wanted to pop in and say that The Pedant ended up arriving well before his deadline and we had all the sex and I got co-petted by him and The Dandy again and it was lovely.

Also, last night The Dandy and I had sex and his side seemed (as usual) sorta perfunctory so afterward I asked him if there was anything we could do to get him to focus on me like I do on him. And I explained what I meant. He ended up petting me into a complete wailing squirming stupor for the first time in possibly ever and I doubt this will be the end of this particular battle between us but it sure would be nice.

And I told The Dandy that a few times recently I have almost accidentally referred to him as my husband, and I asked him what emotions that brings up in him (he’s been married. It didn’t go well. He also told me once, in disparaging tones, that Dandette had been calling him her husband for a while, and really gunning to make it official. So I wasn’t sure if my confession would trigger an “awwww” or an “arrrrgh.”). The Dandy said “I…have been having thoughts along the same lines.”

Okay cool.

I want this relationship to be permanent (if I can get those last few wrinkles ironed out so that I’m basically happy). He’s said he wants this, too. But I guess I have a hard time believing him and need to hear it again sometimes.

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Love and sex

So like I said, I’m afraid of crossing over some invisible line from “partner with some issues” to “invalid: do not fuck” with The Dandy. Also, lack of sex has always been a huge symptom in my relationships that things were starting to go downhill, so the minute it seems like sexual stuff is cooling off, I start to get antsy.

The Dandy hasn’t been up for sex too much for a longish while now. This is another area where he’s infuriatingly wordless and hinty; he’ll usually initiate sex pretty much just by showing me his erection and grinning (which annoys me a bit but I’m getting used to it), and if I initiate and he’s not in the mood, he won’t usually say “not right now” (which I would prefer!) – he’ll just kind of politely dodge me, so that if my initiation was verbal I’ll wonder if it really is a rejection (since I put my interest out there blatantly and am expecting a blatant answer) and if it was non-verbal I’ll wonder if he just missed my hint.

I even talked about the lack of sex with him a while back, telling him that I get that we’ve both been too burned out from work to have the energy for full-on intercourse but that doesn’t mean we can’t, like, participate in each other’s sexuality still. I’d be happy to be there when he wanks, and probably also get myself off in tandem. But he doesn’t invite me. I’d love for him to be there in some capacity when I get off, but since my partners have historically been all-or-nothing types (“I’m not in the mood for sex, therefore don’t even indicate to me that you have a sex drive at all because ewwww”) I’ve been too scared to ask him. And so I’d get myself off when he wasn’t around and couldn’t hear my Hitachi (because when I know he knows I’m getting off and he doesn’t come in to help, it feels like rejection and depresses the shit out of me), and I knew that he was getting himself off silently and opting not to include me, and it was feeling like our respective sexualities had become secret and separate and it was making me sad. I missed the intimacy.

The Dandy seemed to understand, and said that he’d be fine with me being present when he was masturbating*. But nothing changed.

And it was like his sexual presence was just gone. I mean I really like his junk and I hold it/fondle it/kiss it a hundred times a day, and he used to be responsive – maybe not a full erection every time I gave his cock some attention, but a little…fluffiness, a lot of the time. A little flexion and expansion that acknowledged I was touching him. But for the past few weeks there’s been nothing. His penis was suddenly just a spout he peed through, with no further significance or sensitivity at all.

And so I started to get the creeping dread, wondering if his attraction to me had died and our relationship had become one of those sexless brother/sister things.

Then I remembered his selfless birthday gift of painting my room. And how, a few weekends later, he’d helped me assemble my new bed and made the slats himself out of the remnants of my last bed when he didn’t have to. These felt like acts of devotion, not to mention they were both means of making me more comfortable and entrenched in this apartment with him. If he was secretly thinking of me as some invalid/burden and wanting to be rid of me (like he did with Dandette) I don’t think he would have done those things. He would have stalled and postponed and dodged and I would have had to do all the bedroom fixups myself or not at all. Probably. Or would he do these wonderful things as a kind of apology for not having feelings for me anymore?

Long story short, we had sex recently (twice in two days) and there seems to be an uptick in mushy feelings on both sides, so probably things are fine. I guess his job has just been doing a number on him lately. He’s vaguely said a few times that work has been shitty but he’s so stoic that it’s hard for me to tell if he means “today I was mildly inconvenienced by some things” or “my job is steadily grinding my will to live down to a nub.”



*Relevant: ages and ages ago I asked him “If I walk into the room and you happen to be jerking off, is that ‘me-time’ and you’d prefer that I left you to it, or would you welcome me lending a hand?” he said he would pretty much always welcome me getting in on the action. He seemed not even to really understand the concept of just wanting to rub out a quickie alone.

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I was texting with The Artist a bunch yesterday and he told me – among other things – that he’s very attracted to me and would be perfectly happy if things with us went in a sexual direction, but he won’t ever initiate unless I have at least once.

I said I have no problem initiating what I want, so that’s just fine by me. Then I asked him if he likes aggression/assertiveness in women generally. He said he does; he really likes when a woman knows what she wants. He added that he’s not good with pain though (I’m guessing he realized I was in fact referencing BDSM with my talk about aggression). I’d already sneakily ascertained that he’s not a masochist on our first date, though, when I told him about a Christmas-themed burlesque show I’d seen where a performer had an audience volunteer staple a string of lights to her body and he was nothing but horrified.

The Artist also mentioned, unprovoked, that he really likes the process of learning a new person’s body and what they like. That is such a perfect thing to say that it seems like a lie to get in my pants, except I can’t remember a guy ever saying it to me before; the liars always talk about giving women All the Orgasms via their own patented techniques that work on every woman, never about giving all kinds of pleasure in whatever customized way the recipient wants.

I still pretty much feel that I won’t be falling for him super hard or anything, and I hope that doesn’t end up hurting him. But I like him and the physical stuff sounds promising. I’ll probably make out with him when I see him tomorrow.

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The suite – when The Pedant and I finally got down there – was disappointing in that it hadn’t been cleaned. The Pedant’s biggest reason for wanting a suite is his allergy to my cats; my biggest reason is how private and anonymous and clean the space is. The Pedant was like “wait, you didn’t go inspect it when you got the keys?” I hadn’t. It honestly didn’t occur to me to do so; we’ve rented suites there three times before with no issues. And by this time the office was closed so we couldn’t go complain. I took pictures of the rumpled sheets and the disgusting brownish yellow high-tide line in the toilet bowl in case I needed to prove there was an issue, and then popped back upstairs to get clean sheets and towels from our place.

We ordered in Swiss Chalet and while we ate he talked about his big plans to buy a depilator and remove all his body hair. The Pedant is hairy. Like full-body-sweater hairy. And he doesn’t like it; the hair traps sweat and makes him too hot all the time and muffles sensation when you touch him. Years ago he talked about wanting to get it all lasered off, but that costs more money than he’s ever likely to have at one time. He considered waxing but his sister the esthetician says this can lead to broken capillaries. So now his idea is to buy a device that will yank out the hairs. He’s really sensitive to touch/has a low pain tolerance so I’m frankly surprised he’d go that route, but he seems really determined.

Apparently, he’s pursuing his hair-removal dreams with new vigor lately because his live-in girlfriend, Raver Chick, is a very naturally hairy woman with hippie/dykey sensibilities and when he asked if she could maybe up her shaving game a little bit, she said “I’ll go hairless if you do” – trying to call his bluff, you see. And he was like “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED” because a) he doesn’t like his body hair anyway and b) he’s a spiteful prick. 😀

The Pedant told me, over Swiss Chalet chicken, that Raver Chick is a “hair removal is a stupid arbitrary beauty standard devised by the patriarchy!” type of person – when The Pedant has talked about wanting his body hair removed, she hasn’t really been paying attention to his practical reasons for it and just keeps saying that he shouldn’t conform to unreasonable beauty standards or whatever. “And that,” The Pedant said, “Is why I want you to be the first one to see me hairless.”

We’d talked about this before: he’s so sensitive to touch that I’m just dying to know how erogenous his body would be if I weren’t touching most of it through a blanket of hair. When this whole depilator idea came up, I asked if I could be the first to see him de-furred; the first one to touch his actual naked body and not just his pelt. He said yes right from the beginning, and I thought it was because he loves the way I touch him and wanted to experience it at a different level. It was kind of depressing to hear that he treats it like a prize he could have awarded to me or Raver Chick and he kind of arbitrarily picked me.

Oddly, during that same conversation and kind of out of nowhere, The Pedant also said “It’s too bad your other life partners are all so furry.” I was trying to figure out how he knows The Dandy is fairly hairy (also, “all” my life partners?) when The Pedant clarified that he was talking about my cats and added “I could easily live with you if it weren’t for my cat allergies.” That…is really nice to hear. I don’t think I’d want to live with The Pedant (I love him but he drives me crazy in some ways, and also he usually has more than one woman in play at any given point in his life and I’m not up for hearing him fuck other people) but at the same time I felt hurt that he never broached the subject with me. Any time he met someone he really liked, he’d start talking about how she was soooo great and she really “got” him and he could see a future and he’d probably move in with her, and he never told me any of that. So even though I didn’t want to live with him, a petty part of me was sad that he didn’t want to move in with me, either. It felt like being snubbed, like he didn’t think I “got” him and didn’t “see a future” with me.

TBH I secretly suspected that his eagerness to move in with women was more about wanting to escape his parents than about how totes in wuuuv he was with anyone. And I’m probably right. Cohabitation, too, was an arbitrary prize, and I only disqualified myself by having cats.

Anyway. Not only will The Pedant let me be the first to touch his body when it’s nakeder than it’s ever been (well, since childhood, anyway), he’s invited me to help with the actual de-furring process. My OCD revolves around picking/plucking so THIS IS RELEVANT TO MY INTERESTS. I assumed he was asking me for help out of practicality and because he knows I like doing hair removal type stuff. He’s not at all a masochist – he once practically ran across the room to get away from me after I lightly smacked his ass and he thought I might do it again – so I didn’t guess that figured into anything. I mean surely he wouldn’t want to think of me getting a kinky kick out of ripping out his body hair. Still, as we ate our chicken that night I asked him – half jokingly – how he’d feel about me tying him up to depilate him. He said “I was already assuming that’s how we’d be doing this.” …Oh. 😀

We finished our food and he wanted to shower before we got down to sexytimes. Then he invited me to shower (a delicate hint that I smelled a bit ripe, perhaps? Unclear). He ended up touching up the shaved parts of my head first (grooming seems to be his own personal OCD) as I sat in the bathtub to contain the hair-clipping mess. I got cold during this process so I took a bath after – during which, surprisingly, The Pedant hung out with me unbidden and sat on the edge of the bathtub scooping up handfuls of bubbles and rubbing them along my arms and legs and back.

And then, finally, we were in the bedroom clean and naked, sheets on the bed and restraint straps in place under the mattress (oh, yeah…I’ve been pretty consistently delegating stuff like that to him for the last few visits, since he was usually volunteering to do it anyway. So far he’s always cheerfully jumped to the tasks I request. I think he’s more-or-less my submissive, just not yet willing to formally call himself that), and I basically tackled him. I straddled him and made out with him for basically ever and then he asked “would you like me to get you off before it’s too late?” (I think he meant either “before it gets so late that you’re really tired” or “before you get me off and render me too useless to function.”). I agreed that this would be a good idea.

Honestly, my desire at that time was to tie him up, blindfold him, and use his body to get off. Like, ride him until the feel of his cock got me turned on, lie next to him and use my Hitachi to get myself close-ish, then put the Hitachi on him and hump it to completion (with his cock inside me or not; whatever worked.) But I have a hard time letting go, with him. In the past, when I’d try to incorporate the Hitachi into cowgirl sex, he’d go soft; apparently he needs a long thrusting motion to stay hard and my rapid wiggle wasn’t doing it for him. Except it’s not like he needs constant stimulation of his dick to stay hard at other times; usually he’s standing at attention the moment we start making out, before I’ve touched anything below his belly button. So it’s hard not to feel like my pleasure just doesn’t turn him on – that he thinks the way I grind up on him is stupid or I’m crushing the breath out of him or, I dunno, something.

Also…he’s gotten a lot better lately at letting my sexuality be what it is, but for a long time The Pedant acted like I was weird for needing specific kinds of stimulation in order to get off. For as long as I’ve known him, I have gotten off only via Hitachi Magic Wand (which has the power of a jackhammer and I’m pressing it against me hard and wigging it back and forth really fast), and I think he’s only seen me get off lying on my back with my legs straight out, to boot. But he’s asked me “did you come?” during PIV sex where I was on top of him and there was no vibrator or even clit-touching involved whatsoever. He’s asked me if I came when I had him bent over the edge of the bed and was standing behind him pegging him. He’s asked me if I could come from using the vibrating cock ring he bought us, which is a tiny, buzzy, ineffectual thing. He’s asked if I would come from his enthusiastic but highly inconsistent clit-licking. I dunno, man. Am I on my back with my legs out, receiving extremely consistent and intense clit-jackhammering during any of these things? No? Then NO I WILL NOT BE ORGASMING.

And on top of it all, my sexual responses aren’t functioning as well as they used to. The Dandy stays hard through anything I’m doing and once had a huge orgasm just from me wriggling around on top of him with the Hitachi on his stomach next to his cock, which wasn’t even inside me at the time, and even with him I can’t get there, lately.

So I figured there was no point in trying to use The Pedant in that way until I’ve seen a doctor and gotten some kind of treatment for my peri-menopausal(?) crotch dysfunction.

I had The Pedant do the routine that works best for me: some oral sex to get me worked up, followed by good ol’ dildo fucking/Hitachi combo. Lately he’s been thrusting the dildo a lot harder and faster than I would have ever requested; I don’t usually like being jackhammered. But it works. The hard thrusts hit my g-spot in a good way (I bet that’s been declining in sensitivity along with my clit and nipples, so it’s okay to be rougher with it now to a degree that would have hurt before) and it’s so pleasurable and so jolting that my mind can’t wander off to other things. Try as I might to start thinking about what groceries I need to get later, the thump of the toy ramming into place always brings me back. And the Hitachi combines with the g-spot stuff to put me over the freaking moon.

My orgasm was epic in length and intensity, and afterward (something about g-spot stuff during an orgasm seems to trigger All the Feels, for me) a huge wave of emotion washed over me and I shuddered and began to cry. The Pedant held me and petted me and whispered “I’ve got you,” which was he perfect thing to do and which I didn’t really expect from him. He mostly seems to regard my crygasms as foreign and kind of interestingly weird. Hugging me like that, and making me feel all safe and warm, seems entirely outside of his instincts. Maybe Raver Chick taught him to do that.

But then.



Then The Pedant really conspicuously and deliberately positioned his lips by my ear (actually grasped my chin and tilted my head to facilitate this, as I recall) which historically has always meant that he’s about to growl in my ear or give me a dose of dirty talk or otherwise make a sort of contrived, self-conscious attempt at turning me on, and I was sort of inwardly rolling my eyes wondering why he needs to be so showy about this shit.

But instead of sexy talk he whispered “I love you.”

And I was blown away.

I mean…I know he loves me. I suspected it by his actions for ages, and then when I said the words first he said “the feelings are being reciprocated” and eventually, a year or two ago when we were breaking up for the second or third time, he said the actual words (I suspect to soften the blow of the breakup, and/or because he really seems to have a hard time saying it and it probably took a lot of pressure off, saying it as a goodbye and knowing I wouldn’t be hanging around expecting the words to be a regular thing). And frequently during our makeouts – including that night – he does that obvious dodge of saying “I love the way you kiss me” or “I love spending time with you” or “I love when you tell me what to do.”

But I have suspected for a while now that although he professes to be poly, The Pedant perhaps has a subconscious feeling that he’s only supposed to love one person at a time – to have one person who’s a big, big deal and any other partners are swell but not quite on the same level. When we first got together after he started seeing Raver Chick, he referred to him and I as being “friends with benefits,” despite acting exactly the same with me as he did back when he called me his primary partner and indicated that he loved me. And I just figured “Meh, whatever, he’s being an idiot but he still treats me nice so I’ll roll with it.”

And now, suddenly, he’s said the words unprompted and without there being some big tragedy to inspire a grand gesture. He is living with Raver Chick, and he loves Raver Chick. But also he’s seeing me and he loves me. And he admits it.

There’s more.

After I recovered from coming my brains out, I secured The Pedant to the bed, blindfolded him, slid a dildo into his ass, and started teasing his cock and nipples with my hands. Maybe the blindfold made him more unguarded because he couldn’t see if I was looking at him, I don’t know. But as I stroked his cock I murmured that hopefully one day I’ll be able to just throw the Hitachi on his belly and grind up on him – basically use his whole body as a sex toy to get me off – but for now, self-consciousness gets in the way. And in a tiny voice that I don’t think I’ve heard before and that is entirely unlike his usual loud baritone, The Pedant said “Why are you self-conscious? I’m yours.”

We were mid-handjob so I opted not to actually get into the reasons for my self-consciousness with him. I figured he was just making sex talk, and I wanted at that moment to continue enjoying his squirms and whimpers and not have some big serious discussion. Especially since a) he hasn’t done those shitty things in a long time and b) I genuinely don’t think he’d even understand why his actions affected me the way they did. He doesn’t understand even basic human behaviour and emotions sometimes. Even when it seems perfectly logical to me.

So I kept on going with the handjob and whatnot…but The Pedant kept on riffing, in that same tiny, vulnerable voice. I can’t remember what he said verbatim, but I can paraphrase:

“Remember last time we saw each other? You bent me over the couch and penetrated me. You didn’t ask first. You just did it. It was so hot that you did that. Such a turn on that you just used my body the way you wanted, without a second thought. I still remember how hard I came, knowing you had bent me to your will. I want to be your sex toy – I want to be the one who does anything you want. I love you and I want to be that for you. You’ve seduced me so much further than I’d ever believed possible…you’ve made me do things I’d never even dreamed…you make me do what you want…you make me want what you want…! …You own me completely.”

So clearly I need to blindfold him more often.

No but seriously, The Pedant’s outpouring of devotion just…gobsmacked me. And I think he meant what he said. I know he loves me. He definitely has done sexual things with me that were once beyond his boundaries, and he’s definitely more focused on my pleasure and on doing things my way in bed than he used to be (and good lord, the sex is better!). When he says he wants to do anything I want I know he actually means within his stated boundaries (that very evening, early on in the makeouts, I’d asked if I could slap his face and…actually, he didn’t say no. But he looked uncomfortable and maybe gave me the barest hint of a head-shake, and historically he has not been a masochist at all, so I went back to kissing him. But hey, does the lack of an outright no mean he might have been willing to push his boundaries and indulge me? Maybe he is willing to do “anything” for me that I’d be likely to ask for. I’m still not gonna slap him unless he indicates he wants me to, though).

And oh, I’ve wanted someone to say those things to me forever. To offer themselves up entirely for my pleasure and do what I want. My ex-sub, Mine, did that, but unfortunately we broke up before I really had a chance to stretch my wings. I’m so used to constantly monitoring in bed whether my partner is having a good time and checking in with them and focusing on them that the idea of them being there entirely as a vehicle for my good time is a huge adjustment. It’ll take a lot of time and trust before I can really grab the reins with someone and do what I want with them without second-guessing myself, but I want to. Badly. And I never expected that The Pedant would be the next person to offer himself up to me that way, sincerely and in good faith.

I look back on where we started, when he was all wrapped up in toxic masculinity and completely terrible in bed and couldn’t engage in dirty talk or mushy words to save his life, and I marvel at how far we’ve come.

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