Tag Archives: sex

hand job story

Had a nice time with The Dandy the other night while Dandette was at a friend’s birthday party.

I said that I kinda wanted to take advantage of us having the place to ourselves (nudge-nudge, wink-wink) but I was kind of too exhausted.

“Also, we already took advantage earlier today,” The Dandy said (Dandette was…somewhere earlier that day and The Dandy and I had all the sex).

“That’s why I’m exhausted,” I said, grinning (not entirely true. I’m also plagued with the cold from hell, still).

So I assumed sex would not be had that night, but The Dandy did that thing he does of flipping his penis out of his pajama pants and wiggling it to get my attention, and I’m pretty sure that’s intended to initiate stuff, not just so I can give it a squeeze and then go about my day.

I got curious about how (if there’s a reliable way at all) to give The Dandy the best possible orgasm. We talked about that for a while. To an extent he didn’t seem to really know. I have a feeling he and his previous partners never experimented much, and/or nobody ever asked him this question before. He did say that getting him almost to the point of oversensitivity but not past it was usually a good thing. I asked him some clarifying questions and basically we established that direct glans contact is the thing that’s good but prone to rapidly becoming too much, for him. Staying on the outside of the foreskin and rubbing it up and down is the default thing that won’t oversensitize him.

I ended up giving him a hand job in which I alternated 60 strokes of rapid, firm foreskin-rubbing with five (or fewer) slow, lubed strokes down his glans (I asked him if switching randomly or predictably would be better and he didn’t know so I tried for predictability). He rarely talks during sex and I don’t know why. Like I said ahead of time to let me know if I was stimulating his glans too much, and also to let me know when he was close to coming. He…did neither of those things. I was doing the lubed glans-stroking thing and he started flinching at every stroke and I quickly readjusted my grip and gently said “dude! If you’re not having fun you can tell me, you know!” And he just kind of chuckled awkwardly.

As things got more heated, he started whispering things. He often does this when I’m getting him off. I didn’t want to throw him off his game by asking about it at that moment but after he came (the orgasm didn’t seem especially fantastic, btw, just average) I pointed out that he’d been doing it and said “I know that you fantasize in actual narratives with words and stuff rather than pictures, so is that you having your fantasy out loud?” he grinned sheepishly and said yeah.

A little later I asked him what words he has that are big arousal-triggers for him. I know there must be some. I’m assuming whatever mantra he whispers during hand jobs is chock-full of them. He said “I dunno” but sort of…coyly? And with a trace of defensiveness somehow?

“Oh, you totally know,” I said, grinning. “But I won’t push.”

“Sometimes my ‘I don’t know’ doesn’t really mean that I don’t know,” The Dandy said (why does he do that? Why does he repeat back basically what I just freaking said as if he’s teaching me something?)

“Yeah, no kidding. And if you’re not ready to share this stuff, you’re not ready. It’s cool. But if I knew the words that turn you on I’d probably say them to you, is my point.” And I dropped the subject. But boy, do I want to know what he’s thinking.

I don’t know why The Dandy relegates himself to mediocre sex. He never told me that his nipples are somewhat erogemous for him; I had to find that out through trial-and-error. He never told me that I can extend his orgasms during PIV by holding still for the first few seconds but then very slowly starting to thrust again  – I found that out by trial and error, too. Once I discovered these things and said something about them, he talked openly about them and it was clearly he’d known these things about himself for a while. But for some reason he chose not to tell me, just like he won’t tell me about his fantasies. I can understand about the fantasies seeming too personal or him being afraid I’ll laugh at him, but stuff like how to get him off effectively or that he likes his nipples played with but not for too long or it’s too much? Why would he keep that from me?

Oh, also, I confirmed with The Dandy a thing he’d said before – that hand jobs never used to work for him and now they do. I know that’s not me because he said blow jobs work for him now, too, and never used to, and those are Dandette’s department. His body is just changing what it likes, I think. Still, when he told me again that hand jobs work now and didn’t used to, I said “Tell me that’s totally because I’m so awesome at them, even though that’ll be a lie.”

The Dandy kind of smirked and rolled his eyes at me. Then, after a brief pause, he said “Maybe it’s that you actually ask me what I want instead of assuming that whatever worked for someone else will work for me.” …Oh. Maybe it is a little bit about me, then. 😀

 

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The weirdest trauma

The fact that The Dandy and I had sex at Dandette’s request when neither of us wanted to, and she’d told us to fuck under false pretenses, makes me feel really violated and betrayed and I don’t really know what to do with these feelings.

I mean, I told Dandette that night that I don’t pick up on situations where someone only asks a thing to be polite and I’m supposed to refuse, so she needs to be clear. And she said she wasn’t mad at me for having sex with The Dandy. I’m not sure I believe that, but it’s nice lip service, I guess.

There’s still the matter of her being tricksy and manipulative to a terrifying degree, though. So…yeah.

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Terrible things

I’ve been putting off writing about this because it will be a long post (or series of them) and I haven’t had the time or energy to plow through it. But here we go.

Dandette recently mentioned in passing that she waits until the rest of us are asleep or away in order to get herself off. She said she was afraid of being made fun of. I said I’d never do that and she said “not by you” and gave The Dandy a pointed look. I said we really should have a “nobody acknowledges anything they hear from someone else’s closed bedroom” pact* and Dandette agreed.

The other night she got off within my earshot for the first time, in her bedroom while The Dandy and I were right next door in ours. She’s said that she’s loud, and she wasn’t kidding. Not just moaning but actually yelling “YESSSS FUCK ME” and other things that were obviously playing into some fantasy in her head. But, okay, whatever works.

Shortly after she finished, she came out, briskly washed her hands, and hung out with us for a bit like normal (it was hard for me to make eye contact, though – I have to admit I was weirded out knowing she’d literally just been masturbating). Things segued into her playing with, then sucking, The Dandy’s cock. “Want some?” she asked, gesturing to it. His cock was glistening with her saliva and this revolted me, though, and also I wasn’t in a sexy headspace at all; I was getting things ready for work the next day. I said no thanks and went to the living room to gather up some stuff from my dresser-o-props; I figured the two of them would probably end up fucking, and that’s fine.

A few minutes later, Dandette called out that she had something for me. I went back into the bedroom and she was like “See? I got you a hard cock for you to jump on” and once again offered The Dandy to me.

Dandette is infuriatingly shy sometimes about asking for what she wants, and will in fact offer someone else a thing she wants, sometimes, I guess only feeling like she can have the thing once everyone else who might want it has turned it down. I wondered if she was doing this right now. I also was still not in a sexy headspace.

But then I realized: we’d just heard her get off, and she surely knows that we heard her. Probably this was some kind of weird bribe or barter, like “You’ve  heard me being all vulnerable and sexual and I feel weird about it so go make some noises, yourselves, to even the score!” And I totally get that. When Dandette expressed interest in a Hitachi Magic Wand a few months back, it suddenly occurred to me that it would be amazing for her wanks to be obvious every damn time like mine are so I wouldn’t feel so exposed all the time – so I badgered The Dandy to go halfsies with me on one for her. Not that I ever hear her use the thing.

I took the proffered cock in my hand. “Uh, do you…want to?” I asked The Dandy. “I know you’ve been feeling a little sick today.”

“I…guess so?” The Dandy said.

“Okay then.”

I thanked Dandette for her “gift” and hugged her goodbye and shut the door to have sex with The Dandy.

Long story short: we were both having the sex for Dandette’s benefit without actually wanting to; I found out later that The Dandy had also suspected this was a “make sex noises so it cancels out mine from before” thing and was trying to humour her. But I didn’t know that at the time. He kept going soft, but sometimes that happens to people. At one point Dandette called through the door “As you fuck each other I just want to know that I love you both” which was sweet I guess but not a mood enhancer. We both managed to come eventually (actually I ended up coming three times, somehow) and as often happens, the orgasms gave me the giggles. Dandette called out “if you don’t stop laughing soon, I’m coming in there!” and I had a feeling she really would and that she wouldn’t knock first so I immediately got up and put on my bathrobe.

Sure enough, she did come busting in a minute later. She cuddled with us both and then I had to get up to pee. While I was doing that, I heard her say to The Dandy that she’d wanted him to have sex with her just then and was sad that he’d chosen me. “But you told me to have sex with Cowgirl,” The Dandy said. “How was I supposed to know that you wanted it?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Dandette said. “I learned this weekend** that my place in life is not to have pleasure. It’s to get people worked up so they can go fuck someone else. My  job is to make other people’s lives pleasant and comfortable. Did you enjoy the sex?”

“Yeah…?”

“Then I’m happy.”

I returned and lay on the bed and The Dandy decided to go have a bath. I can’t remember the context – if any – but Dandette started playfully flipping back the edge of my robe to expose my genitals – and we were not previously on a looking-at-each-other’s-genitals basis***.

I did not like her doing this. But I have this thing where it’s almost impossible for me to do something other than what people are clearly expecting. When I was little and my parents would make fun of me and laugh, I’d try to laugh, too, even though I wasn’t having fun; it was just so obviously what I was supposed to do. I’ve had people kiss me who I wasn’t interested in and I automatically kissed them back. I think this urge is either an appeasement reflex that comes from having an abusive parent, or maybe something to do with me being on the autism spectrum and trying to imitate other people in order to blend in. Or both.

So instead of saying anything along the lines of “WTF? Stop it” I found my mind segueing into exactly the same thought process it always does when I’m being sexually assaulted: “Well, I mean, this could be platonic, right? It would be nice, to have the kind of comfortable relationship with someone where we could be close to each other like this and it’s non-sexual. That’s probably what this is. It’s probably fine. It’s not what I was expecting out of this particular person, but I can adapt.” Dandette continued flipping up my bathrobe and putting it down again over and over in a joking, playful manner, telling me my genitals were pretty, and I laughed awkwardly and made jokes to try to look playful, too. Then she was like “Oh, here, I should make it equal” and pulled down her pajama pants to expose her vulva to me, and I don’t even remember what I did – just stared awkwardly at the ceiling, I guess.

Eventually that stopped and she just snuggled with me for a while, while monologuing about how her role is to keep The Dandy and I happy/he obviously wants to fuck me more than he wants to fuck her/he’s told her outright that he doesn’t enjoy fucking her very much/he’s told her outright that the sounds of her masturbation are annoying and intrusive and this is why she’s afraid to do it within earshot. She was getting her facts screwed up, though; she said that before I moved in, The Dandy complained about the sound of her Hitachi. I pointed out that she didn’t have a Hitachi before I moved in; The Dandy and I went halves on one for her after I was living here. She looked up at me and – apparently missing the point entirely – said “yeah, you’ve trained him to be okay with the sound. But with me he wasn’t.”

At this point (and in retrospect I think I started paying attention because that weird twisting of the truth reminded me of my ex-mother-in-law when she was shitfaced) I noticed that Dandette was slurring her words slightly. Oh shit, she’d had wine with dinner. How much? Enough for her to be drunk? Enough for her to be drunk enough to slur? Or was I just imagining that her voice sounded blurry?

I’ve said before that I’m pretty sure I’m on the autism spectrum somewhere. The big thing that kept me from realizing it until lately is that people on the spectrum are notorious for not reading body language/nonverbal cues, and I’m great at it. Except that I’m terrible at figuring out when someone is drunk or high. That’s an area where I do actually have to piece evidence together with my rational mind because I just can’t pick up on anything more subtle than someone actually staggering around and screaming swear words with a bottle in their hand. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve interacted with someone and afterwards, whoever was with me was like “Oh maaaan that person was drunk/high as fuck” and I was like “They were?” – I’m just really stupid about this shit.

Then Dandette said that she wanted to go grope The Dandy in the bath but he probably wouldn’t want her to, and I kept insisting that he would probably be fine with it (they are dating, after all) and she was getting all histrionic and finally I stomped into the bathroom like “Hey Dandy, want Dandette to touch your penis?” and he said sure but Dandette insisted that “sure” is code for “I’ll tolerate it but I don’t actually want it” and it became a whole thing. But eventually she did go in there and touch him.

Then she went out for a smoke and The Dandy finished his bath and we lay in bed while I urgently vented to him a whole bunch about the events of the night while I had the chance. This talk involved, in no particular order:

  • The Dandy referring to Dandette as being shitfaced.
  • Me being like “ah, so she is drunk, then” and then having to sort of rewrite the entire night in my head because that info changed a lot of things.
  • Me crying because I felt stupid for not grasping that she was drunk.
  • The Dandy and I confirming that neither of us had wanted to fuck each other earlier.
  • The Dandy telling me that not only did Dandette say “go fuck Cowgirl” when she wanted the sex herself, but he straight-up said “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex with me, yourself?” and she had replied “No, you two go have fun.” I hadn’t known that part. It makes it even grosser and more sketchy that she would be mad later at not getting laid. It’s one thing not to be able to ask for what you want, another thing to offer a thing you want to someone else, and yet another to offer a thing you want to someone else and claim outright that you do not want the thing. Like how the fuck is The Dandy ever supposed to have sex with Dandette when he offers and she still says no? How is he supposed to know it’s really a yes? If he insists that he’s gonna fuck her despite her no, it’s rapey and gross ffs. He and I are in agreement that we need to take her words at face value but it just sucks that she’s so weirdly manipulative. And I’m terrified that she’ll end up resenting me for having sex with him or having orgasms with him.
  • I asked him if he’s ever made fun of her for masturbating or been annoyed by the sounds and he said no. This throws my brain into turmoil because I’d believed it when Dandette said it but I was beginning to realize that she was very drunk and blowing shit all out of proportion. I don’t think she was lying outright but who knows what minor thing The Dandy once said that she interpreted as an insult. It would not surprise me if at some point he’d heard her getting off and later just sorta smirked and said “did you have fun?” or some other little nudge-nudge wink-wink acknowledgement and she took it badly.
  • I was like “You do get that her speech about her role being only to support us was self-deprecating, right? Like she doesn’t actually not want pleasure and sex of her own?” “I know that. I’m not stupid,” The Dandy said irritably. But I mean…he’ll stick his dick in her but not get her off, so I really did wonder if he thought she was fulfilled just letting him come into her, with no reciprocation.
  • I asked him if he did in fact have more interest in sex with me than with Dandette. I expected him to say no, it’s about even, and from there I was gonna try to hammer out a plan to help Dandette feel more desired. But The Dandy hesitated and then said “yes.” Yes, he’s more into fucking me than her. I honestly hadn’t expected that. They were together for five years and had obvious feelings and chemistry even when they were broken up, so I kind of assumed he was really into her but just not able to initiate stuff too much because of her mental health-related mood swings and whatnot. Once upon a time, getting told a thing like “I’m more into you” would have made me feel triumphant and pleased. Now it just freaks me out. I don’t want Dandette to resent me for having what she wants. I don’t want an imbalance that makes my living situation all weird. Fuck.

Dandette returned and The Dandy and I fell silent – played ‘possum, basically. It was 3am by that point, anyway, and we did need to get to sleep. But also Dandette has hearing like a bat and I think neither of us wanted her realizing we were awake and trying to talk to us.

Dandette repeatedly opened our closed bedroom door (to let the dog in or out, I think, and who knows why else) and then finally just came on in and insisted we shift over so she could sleep with us. I didn’t want her to but I didn’t want to fight about it, either. I shifted over and only then did The Dandy (who I bet was waiting to see what I’d do) follow suit. The Dandy lay on his back, we each cuddled up to one side of him, Dandette linked fingers with me on his chest, and then she promptly passed out, huffing big putrid gusts of wine and smoke into my face with every exhale. I tried to sleep but was too wound up from the events of the evening so I went out to the living room to watch tv and eventually fell asleep there.

The Dandy had told me early on that Dandette gets in moods of feeling like her only value is sexual, and if nobody wants to fuck her she kind of goes nuts. It was one of the main reasons he was hesitant to get back together with her, actually, and I’m annoyed as shit because I actually brought it up with her directly when we broached the subject of them dating again, like as in “The Dandy was thinking about maybe being with you again but wants to know how you’d handle it if he didn’t want to fuck you, or wanted to fuck me instead,” and she never answered. A few days later she started referring to her and The Dandy as being back together and I asked him “did you ever have that talk, though?” and he said no. These stupid motherfuckers never goddamned discuss anything and then I end up being caught in the middle.

So clearly she was in one of those desperate-to-be-wanted states and that’s what was driving her awful behaviour that night. Oh there’s more than I didn’t mention: she repeatedly told me that she’d fuck me if I wanted, if only I weren’t straight (and I think at one point even yelled “Goddammit why won’t you fuck me?!?”) and also at the dinner table she announced that she was going to take off her shirt because it was too hot in there (she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath btw). Which I would be fine with if that’s actually what it was, but she was giving me a vibe that actually she just wanted me to find her attractive/ogle her/hit on her/something. This was not casual nudity for convenience’ sake; this was her exhibitionist side playing up. I was managing to ignore her tits, as one does when one is being polite, and make normal dinner conversation and it made her antsy. At one point I said I was having a bad day or something and she was like “boobs make everything better!” and used her hands to jiggle them in my direction. At another point she stood behind my chair and flopped her tits onto my shoulders.

We’ve actually clowned around like that before, sort of. She’ll often say “if you ever decide you like chicks, let me know” and I’m like “sure thing” or she’ll flash me to “cheer me up” after a bad day. And it was sort of okay because there wasn’t that edge of desperation to it. But even then (I realize now) I was slightly uncomfortable. I was rationalizing it away like I do with sexual assault, telling myself these acts were just platonic when they really probably aren’t. I think I’m gonna have to stop going with the flow, here, and endeavor to draw some boundaries. I mean I’m probably too chickenshit to say “STOP HITTING ON ME” but the next time she says to let her know if I turn gay I can say “Yeah, I won’t, though. I mean I’m in my 40s so if it was gonna happen I assume it would have by now” instead of being like “ha ha you betcha!”

Incidentally, the missing puzzle piece that Dandette was drunk that night makes me realize that her loud, loud wanking was probably a deliberate performance for us. A “look what you’re missing” aimed at me, perhaps, or a “look what you made me do” aimed at The Dandy. Basically it’s just another version of the theatrical, drunken crying that led to me breaking up with The Dandy that time.

I told him this and he agreed that it’s probably what she was doing. Dammit, Dandy, you knew the whole time that she was drunk; why the fuck didn’t you put two-and-two together then, and realize that the wanking was a self-conscious performance aimed at us? You could have followed the trail of big giant clues to realize that her telling us to have sex was a trap. Neither of us even especially wanted to. We could have said no and probably saved a bunch of drama.

 

*And not just for her benefit, either. She continues to be very clear that she can hear us having sex. Shortly after she finally blew up at The Dandy for never getting her off, she told me the last straw had been a time when The Dandy had said “I’m gonna go pet Cowgirl’s head until she falls asleep” but then Dandette heard the telltale sounds of the Hitachi and knew that head-pets were not what was going on. “In fairness, I do sometimes use the Hitachi on my head when I have a headache,” I said. Dandette replied “when you do that, your sounds are different.” She has also said that my being-given-an-orgasm sounds are different from my being-petted sounds. And has said things like “I was about to come in and put away your laundry but when I got closer to your door I could hear that you and The Dandy were fucking and you were just about to orgasm, so I decided to do some other housework until you were all done.” So she’s made it suuuuper clear that she hears everything I do and can differentiate between all of it. I do not care for this. At all. And I’ve said numerous times that I want us all to pretend that the bedrooms are soundproof. But she still says this shit.

**Dandette was just back from a weekend camping trip with a bunch of friends, including a guy she used to fuck. He’s poly but his girlfriend became jealous of Dandette and that’s why they stopped fucking; Dandette says that she instigated that, not him, but I don’t know if that’s true. She often bitches about the situation as if she wasn’t allowed to fuck this guy anymore – as though he’d broken it off, rather than him being perfectly willing to continue but Dandette saying no out of pity for his girlfriend. Anyway, apparently she and one of her chick friends were flashing this guy and doing other things to tease him, but Dandette of course would go no further, so in essence she was just getting him worked up for when he went home to his wife (yeah he has a wife too). And her anxiety apparently decided to go into histrionics about this and tell her that it was her lot in life to be everyone’s fluffer, even though she (allegedly) decided to stop fluffing that dude and she was the one who decided to flash him.

***Oh that’s the other thing: Dandette has indicated that she’d really like us to all be on a casual nudity basis in our household (instead of The Dandy being naked any time he wants but she and I remaining covered). I would be fine with this. It would be delightfully convenient to not have to bother shutting the door to change, or to not mind Dandette coming into the bathroom to get something while I’m taking a bath, or things like that. Here’s the thing, though: for nudity to be casual, people need to not comment on it. This is how I can be naked for work: nobody goddamned says anything about it. There are never any remarks about my body. At all. But Dandette says things. I’ve been trying to get used to household nudity, and have been topless around her a few times, and she told me I have pretty nipples. I mean yay for compliments I guess but a comment of any kind indicates that my nudity is being looked at and evaluated rather than this just being “meh, this is a body, no big deal, we’re all cool here.”

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Selfishness

So often, in relationships, I get resentful because I’m willing to do things for the other person that they won’t do for me. Telling them that I want them to do the things doesn’t generally work, so clearly the solution to the imbalances is to fix them from my side – to stop going out of my way for partners and operate on pure selfishness.* I might still be lacking some things I want from partners, but removing that resentment factor would make things so much better. And honestly, I’ve observed that a lot of the time when a woman stops trying with a guy, he panics and thinks he’s losing her and he picks up the slack. Most women I’ve ever seen who have adoring, kiss-ass husbands or boyfriends are women who are kind of mercenary in their dealings; women who just don’t give a fuck.

On the other hand, I do a lot of emotional labour along the lines of ferretting out what’s upsetting a partner and orchestrating how to fix it; emotional shit that I don’t think my guys have any idea how to do. They couldn’t pick up that slack even if they wanted to, or at least not quickly enough, so the relationships would likely die for that reason.

But I’m fascinated with the idea of just doing whatever I want without thinking much about another person’s feelings, as it often feels like men do. I bet it’d be neat to just act entirely according to my desires without overthinking anything. I’m so used to automatically thinking about other people that it’s hard to imagine what being selfish would even look like. I’m gonna try to visualize it now, just for fun.

Situation #1: The Pedant and his chronic lateness. I’m forever making plans with him and adhering to our agreed-upon timeline, even if it means waking up far earlier than I wanted to – and he almost invariably ends up being hours late. And he doesn’t even tell me upfront “yeah sorry let’s get together six hours from now instead of now.” He texts me “whoops, just a little longer” forty times so I’m always thinking he’s about to show up so I can’t take a nap.

Admittedly, part of the reason I get so tied in knots over his lateness is that I worry that if I did fall asleep or run an errand while waiting for him, he’d text me a few times but then give up and go home and I wouldn’t get to see him at all. So I’d have to not only be selfish in order to change the script here, I’d also have to not care so much about seeing him. But if I could accomplish all that, imagine the text conversations:

Me: Whoops, sorry I’m getting in touch with you five hours after we’d agreed to meet up. I had a late night last night and I ended up sleeping in. But I’m awake now and ready for you to come over.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me: Oh I actually got tired of waiting so I’m at [mall half an hour away]. If you could just wait at my door for me to finish shopping and get back, that’d be great.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me (an hour later): Oh sorry I was watching a movie and got caught up in it and forgot to check my phone. You can come up now.

OR:

Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

Me: Oh awesome! Hold on, I’ll be down to let you in. [Ten minutes later] Sorry, I was naked when you first texted and I’ve been trying to decide what to wear. I’ve picked an outfit and will be down in five minutes. [Ten minutes later] Yeah I can’t find my keys and I don’t want to leave the apartment unlocked with nobody in it. Bear with me. [Ten minutes later] It’s looking more like I’ll be down in half an hour. [An hour later]  Sorry, something came up. Totally heading to the elevator any minute, though! [Fifteen minutes later] Okay I’m on my way for real now.

I’m not suggesting that I contrive to do any of these things on purpose just to fuck with him, mind you. I’m saying that right now, I do force myself to wake up for plans with The Pedant even if I’ve had practically no sleep; I do forego errands and shopping and stuff because I want to be here when he arrives; I do try to watch movies while waiting but can’t concentrate because I’m constantly checking my phone in case he’s texted to say that he’s here; I have gone to let him in wearing a hasty selection of random floor-clothes and no bra because I was naked when he arrived and didn’t want to keep him waiting. And I’d love to be able to let go of all of that and just live my life according to my desires. I think if I did, I’d feel a lot less resentful over his lateness because it wasn’t causing me to lose out on anything like it does now.

Situation #2: The Dandy’s sexual selfishness. Apparently, he won’t give his partners orgasms unless they specifically tell him to; not even if he’s just had intercourse with someone that left them all turned on and stuff. Often he’ll approach intercourse (with me, anyway) as just another utilitarian means of getting off, heaving himself onto me and thrusting mechanically until he’s done – no eye contact or kissing, no varying his moves and seeing what makes me react the most, nothing. Also usually his default is no foreplay particularly (unless you count me kissing and licking his cock) – if I specifically ask him to pet me, he’ll do so in a perfunctory fashion and without any sort of focus on my responses. Also, no cunnilingus ever, allegedly because he was traumatized by an ex’s terrible smell, but I think he just plain doesn’t feel like it: he says he doesn’t hate the act and that I smell fine and yet.

If I were able to live life according to my own whims, without being overly concerned about other people, I could:

  • Kiss and lick The Dandy’s cock for as long as I wanted, in the way I like, and then just stop when I’ve had enough. (As it stands, the stuff I do to indulge my foreskin fetish is enough stimulation to turn him on sometimes but not enough to get him off, so if he gets erect while I’m doing it I start to feel bad about getting him all riled up and not following through, so eventually I’ll switch to jerking him off even though that doesn’t particularly ring my bell and I really just want to keep aimlessly kissing the tip of his cock.)
  • Stop sexual activity the moment I got bored. If we’re doing PIV and he hasn’t come? Meh, whatever, I’m satisfied. Goodnight! …But of course, if he then took my hand and put it on his cock, I’d take the hint and jerk him off. I mean I’m not a monster. I’m just not bothering to assume that his orgasm has to be an integral part of our bedroom shenanigans.
  • Announce that I want PIV and if The Dandy says he’s up for it, I’ll be like “cool!” and then sit there looking at him and waiting for him to get hard so we can start. No touching or anything. But again, I’m not a monster – if he asks me to touch him and get him ready, I’ll totes plunk my hand on his dick and move it absent-mindedly back and forth while staring at the ceiling. Getting him hard requires a pretty boring, repetitive motion but if it helps us hurry up and get to the fucking, I’m all for it.
  • Incorporate the Hitachi into our PIV every single time. Turn him into an ambulatory sex toy that I hump until I come, and then immediately climb off him and hop in the shower/go do watch tv/fall asleep/whatever unless he specifically tells me he still wants to get off.
  • Never, ever engage in sexual activity with him unless I feel absolutely enthusiastic about it. Stop sex acts in the middle if my wrist/mouth/glutes are getting tired and sore, even if he seems pretty close to orgasm, and not offer any sort of alternative. Take care of my own orgasm at that point if I want one, and expect him to take care of his if he wants one. Ignore him jerking off unless I actively feel like engaging in some way. (Yes, The Dandy has had PIV with me, gotten off, then gotten up to clean up/surf the internet/generally ignore me while I reached for the Hitachi for “my turn.” I’ve had to outright tell him to stay near me and be involved – that my orgasms are part of our sexual encounters, not some extra and unrelated thing.)

Again: this would not game-playing, this would just be an unfiltered version of me who doesn’t feel tacit pressure to please and accommodate partners.

The one way I do wanna fuck with The Dandy that’s absolutely game-playing is to start initiating sex the way he does: by simply showing him my genitals and looking at him like “Well?!” Because that’s irritating and presumptuous as fuck.

Actually I also want to ignore all of his stupid word-free sexual overtures. Like it’s okay by me if he wants sex so he starts kissing and touching me to see if I’m responsive – that sort of wordlessness is fine (mostly because it revolves around giving me pleasure, and will almost always turn me on enough that I will in fact want sex). But for real the other night we were hanging around in the bedroom together and at some point he stealthily pulled his dick out through the hole in his pajama pants and just kind of…waited for me to notice. And when I didn’t, he was like “Jeez, you’re not very observant!” in a jokingly-accusatory-but-probably-not-really-joking tone, and pointedly looked down at his crotch so I’d see his dick flopped out there (all of which is exactly what The Bunny used to do. WTF?!?). And what with him making such a huge goddamned production of “Herrrrrrrre’s my penis!” and acting all tetchy and vulnerable about it, I felt obligated to admire and/or touch said penis in a sexual capacity so he wouldn’t feel rejected. And I hate that feeling of obligation. I hate it even though I actually was interested in sex with him at the time (and we did end up fucking). Use your goddamned words so I can say yes or no, Dandy. Stop hiding behind plausible deniability. If I don’t want to touch your dick but you also haven’t asked me to touch it – just flopped it out and pointed at it – my “no, I don’t want to do this right now” will seem nonsensical at best (what am I saying no to when he didn’t ask for anything?) and overly cruel at worst (like OMG he was just playing around and I was like I DON’T WANT TO DO SEXUAL THINGS WITH YOU, talk about overreacting!).

Anyway.

I honestly do think that if I could be more selfish in relationships, it would make almost all my resentments disappear. There’d be no more imbalance – no more “Humph. I make sacrifices for him and he doesn’t make them for me.”

Except I think if I were selfish it also might destroy said relationships. The Pedant would likely just go home if I made him wait around for hours; he might not be mad about it (we talked about this and he claims he wouldn’t be) but I’d never see him, so for all intents and purposes we’d have no relationship. The Dandy would, I think, probably feel distant from me if I made it obvious that giving him orgasms is sometimes a boring chore I’ve done just to make him feel loved and that I’ve decided not to anymore. Probably he’d feel resentful, then, and it would colour the way he treated me in the rest of the relationship, and then there’d be nothing left to this that makes me happy.

I need to find a middle ground.

 

 

*I mean, the other obvious solution is to find guys who’ll step up just as much as I do, but it’s starting to feel like most dudes are entitled and oblivious and won’t ever be on my level, so…

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Up and down

The Pedant is so weird. He’s a lot more forthcoming with sexy talk than he used to be, but he’s still really inconsistent with it. Maybe it just depends on whether he’s horny or not at any given time. I enjoy sexy talk just for the sport of it and would engage in that sort of banter with him at almost any time. Like not during a bout of the stomach flu or while watching the vet examine my horribly sick cat or something. But I don’t have to be actively wanting to wank in order to talk dirty.

A week ago I texted him: “I wish we were in a blank white room somewhere with you tied to the bed.” I was hoping to get something sexy in return, which does happen sometimes these days.

Instead he replied “That’ll have to wait. My work shifts won’t allow me to visit on October 16th, sadly.” (I’d asked him about the 16th ages ago – The Dandy is away that night at a work retreat thing. At the time he said he’d think about it but when I didn’t hear back within a few days I honestly just forgot all about it.)

By contrast, just now I texted him “Currently daydreaming about locking one of these onto you. Probably not practical under boots, but you’d look so pretty… http://www.eternitycollars.com/anklets/titanium-anklet” You can kind of see how flinchy I am there, anticipating the reasons why he’d tell me he wouldn’t wear such a thing. Being sure to specify that it’s a daydream.

His response: “It makes me hard that you’d want to keep me as a pet like that.”

Guuuuuuh I’LL BE IN MY BUNK.

 

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Sex talk

Dandette has said that she loves glass dildos. She thinks they’re pretty. I also know that she likes stuff with an octopus or tentacle theme. So I just ordered her one of these for Christmas. I’m not sure she realizes that tentacle-shaped glass dildos exist. I hope she doesn’t. I want her to be totally blindsided. 😀

I realized the other day that I’m mildly obsessed with buying Dandette sex toys, and it’s basically to make up for the fact that I’m not actually fucking her. She’s made it fairly clear that she would date me if I wanted. I’m not into that, but I do love her, so I guess I’m trying to give her orgasms indirectly. 😛

Oh, on a side note, she and I were talking today and I mentioned how The Dandy refused to touch my packer and she said yeah, she’s seen him be like that with dildos, too, that’s why she’s never asked him to use a toy on her. That’s sort of hilarious (but sad) to me because The Dandy has used them on me from the very beginning. But, come to think of it, not voluntarily: it just didn’t occur to me that he might have hangups, and anyway toys are a big part of my orgasms so using them is kind of non-negotiable, so when the time came I was just like “Here, fuck me with this dildo” or “yo, press the Hitachi right there and move it around” and he did. I wonder: if I’d seemed tentative, would he have balked? How much better would Dandette’s sex with him be if she just assumed he would do what she wanted/needed, and told him to?

It really sounds like the vast majority of The Dandy’s sex with Dandette is him coming into her mouth or vag and…that’s it. She says he used to get her off but it was a lot faster/easier in the beginning because that’s how she is with new people. Once she actually fell for him, the stakes were higher so she took longer to get off…and The Dandy stopped trying (whether correlation or causation I don’t know). She said her sex life with him since then has basically been intercourse and then after he leaves the room she finishes herself off. That makes me so angry I wanna punch him in the face.

So this is another reason I buy her sex toys: because her main partner is so terrible in bed with her!

I’m wondering if our discussion today will have some fallout, because when Dandette said the thing about never asking The Dandy to use toys on her I was so surprised that I blurted out “Really? We use them all the time.” Will Dandette ask for what she wants, now? Or will she still be too shy or whatever, but grow more and more resentful knowing that The Dandy is totally getting me off – using my vibrator and dildo – at least once every time we have sex? Will she approach him at some point like “I have recently learned that you’re using toys with Cowgirl and not me. You’re in serious trouble, young man!”? I don’t want him to end up angry at me for blurting out – in sheer surprise – that he takes care of my needs adequately in a way he doesn’t with her. I generally try to keep our bedroom stuff private; I’m not prone to having huge detailed talks about any of my partners’ sexual skills or predilections with anyone.

But I really am horrified by how selfish he is in bed.

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Third and probably final installment of the recent-ish Pedant visit

When we got back to our suite after dinner, it was around 1am and truth be told I was pretty tired and could have just gone to sleep. I felt like that would be a waste of the room we’d paid for, though, and The Pedant made it clear that he was game to keep going all night, so I rallied myself as best I could.

There had been talk of The Pedant bathing me and then massaging me, but the stupid bathtub  in the suite had no plug for the drain (none in the sink, either) so the bath part of the evening was moot. I did grab my thing of moisturizer and have The Pedant massage my feet with it, though. And he was quite thorough and didn’t ask “so, better now?” every thirty seconds like he used to. When he did finally ask if I was feeling better (in a full sentence and with much a more sincere tone than the flippant “better?” he used to repeatedly give me) I requested a bit more work on my right foot and he provided it, for a good long time.

He got me off again, and preparatory to that, he lubed up my dildo by sucking on it (I’m honestly a bit squeamish about the spit-as-lube thing but it’s definitely not the sketchiest thing I’ve ever done to my vag and anyway I wanted to enjoy the show). He sucked my juices off the dildo after I’d come, too. Like, full eye contact, wrapping his lips tenderly around the head and then taking the toy as deeply into his mouth as it would go. The visual turned me on but in a weird way I was hesitant to let it turn me on because, like…did The Pedant understand that I was kinda-sorta picturing him giving fellatio to an actual cock just then? It seemed like he was putting on a deliberate show to turn me on, but was it a fellatio show or an I-bet-you’re-anticipating-this-toy-inside-you/look-how-much-I-love-your-juices show? I was a little scared that if I stared too intently he’d suddenly realize what was going through my head and get all weirded out. So I tried to play it at least a little cool.

But, you guys…I…I think he actually was deliberately giving fellatio to my dildo*. I’m not absolutely sure. But I think so. This may be one of those things where he was freaked out at first but slowly came around.

I ended up securing The Pedant to the bed again (this time in standard spread eagle formation) and cutting his boxers off him with scissors and edging him a whole bunch. It will never not be amazing to me that he can get off from such slow, languorous touches. I told him to tell me when he was close to coming because I wanted to edge him a bit, and I just kept swirling each my lubed-up hands sloooooowly around the head of his cock and then down the shaft in turn, and pretty soon he was telling me “I’m close” after ten seconds of this and I would back up and let him cool down a bit. At one point he requested I insert the stainless steel butt plug. It’s really nice to see him asking for this; now I know for sure it’s not just a thing he’s doing for me. I’m not sure what the plug does for him, since when I use my fingers he seems to prefer me moving them in very gentle circles just inside his entrance rather than pushing on his prostate, but apparently it does something.

Unfortunately, when I finally decided I wanted him to come inside me, I rode him thinking he’d go off like fireworks inside of a minute but he…didn’t. His dirty talk lapsed from “I want to come inside you” (which was hot) to “please make me come” (which is a bit performance anxiety-inducing) and I was shunting up and down on his cock so quickly as to feel somewhat undignified. I decided I wanted to go back to the slow stroking. I dismounted, pulled the condom off, and went back to the hand job.

(On a side note: at no time during any of our canoodling did The Pedant seem even remotely tempted to enter me without a condom. There were times that we were lying with our genitals touching and I sensed no hyperawareness of this and no shifting closer to “tease” himself as he used to do. Which is hurtful to me. Back when he and I weren’t really seeing anyone else and we agreed not to ditch condoms until we got STI tests and they came back okay, he “got carried away” and put himself inside me before either of us had even made an appointment. But now that he has a girlfriend who’s said “we’re fluid bonded, don’t bareback anyone else,” apparently he’s not prone to getting carried away anymore. That little reminder that he loves someone else and will effortlessly adhere to her boundaries stings like hell – especially since he didn’t adhere to mine back then. I enjoyed telling myself it was because our chemistry was just so hot he couldn’t help himself – but our hot chemistry is still very much there and he’s somehow found self-control. Fuck.)

Even with me back to stroking The Pedant with my hands, he was having a hard time getting over the edge. I felt kinda bad for him. I wonder if I went too far with the edging and his cock just abandoned all hope, or if he was just tired because it was like five in the morning by that point? At any rate, after quite a bit more struggling and straining and desperation, he finally did get off. His orgasm was less sustained than one might expect; in fact he got oversensitive really quickly and whispered “stop.”

After that he passed out immediately, as he is wont to do. I needed more time to wind down. I ended up only getting about two hours’ sleep in the end (he didn’t fare that much better; maybe four hours for him). Once we’d checked out of the suite, we went up to my place to catch up on sleep for a bit. He used some flimsy-sounding pretext to avoid using my and The Dandy’s bed; I assume he just felt weird about that  and for some reason didn’t wanna tell me flat out. We ended up dozing cuddled up on the couch. Unfortunately the building picked the worst possible day to start testing the fire alarms, so the klaxon went off in little bursts every five minutes. But I managed to get some rest, anyway, and I think he did, too.

Then he needed to get home so I walked him to the bus stop ’cause the building/neighbourhood is complicated at first. And the bus came and we kissed goodbye and that was that.

 

*Related: last night I unpacked a box left over from moving in here and I found my packer (squishy limp cock-n-balls that a person without a cock-n-balls of their own can put inside their pants). I stuffed it into the front of my boxer briefs, found The Dandy, and asked him to cup my package. He wouldn’t. He refused to touch this hunk of squishy rubber(?) simply because it was shaped like a penis. Actually I’m pretty sure The Pedant reacted the same way, back in the day; it’s nice to see that he may be evolving a little bit.

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