Tag Archives: sex

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 –Ā  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. šŸ™‚

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. šŸ˜€

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.Ā  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. šŸ˜¦

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The Dandy and Dandette are still gone so I had The Pedant over last night. It felt less-weird fucking him in the bed I usually share with The Dandy than I’d imagined it would. Or maybe I expected The Pedant to be weird about it and he pretty much wasn’t.

One funny thing: The Dandy is the kind of nerd who owns swords. They’re displayed on a rack on the bedroom wall. The Pedant made a big show of checking them out and was like “Huh, a couple of these aren’t usable.” I said they might not be razor sharp or anything but I think you could still stab someone pretty effectively. The Pedant was like “No, these ones up top are rounded at the end. They’ve been – ” and here he used a technical term I didn’t know and can’t remember. Like it was clear he was trying hard to one-up The Dandy’s knowledge of old weaponry or whatever. So he was all “these sword-blades have been technicaltermed, rendering them unusable.”

“They’re in scabbards,” I said. The Pedant had mistaken the metal sheaths on the swords for the blades themselves. So much for his mighty expertise.


The Pedant continues to be less selfish and more attentive than he used to be, and again I wonder whether someone taught him this or if he’s taking me for granted less now that our relationship is less certain* or what.

When he first arrived, he offered to help me re-shave my head (not unusual for him) and when I was showering the clippings off he came in with me just to help me rinse away the bits that I missed. I don’t recall him doing that before; if he wanted to take a shower anyway he’d come in with me, and sometimes he’d wash me in some capacity, but he’s never come into the shower just for me. What especially struck me about this was that he smiled at me while doing it. He’s always been matter-of-fact before when helping me with my hair but this time any time I accidentally caught his eye he’d beam beatifically at me. It was very sweet.

Eventually I was all shaved and rinsed and dried and we were making out in my bed. IĀ  told him the memory of how his mouth feels on me is one of my go-to fantasies and he replied “everything about you is one of mine.” Dammmmn! Upping his dirty talk game like whoa! And to think I used to wonder if he even remembered I existed when we weren’t together. He kept on riffing about me and how awesome our sex is. And it was in the form of “I love -” statements, which I’m fairly sure is how he deflects when he really wants to say “I love you” but can’t because he’s kind of emotionally stunted.

Things progressed to me tying him down and riding him but then just to be a brat I abruptly stopped when he was close to orgasm and insisted he get me off instead. Well, not just to be a brat. He does pass way the fuck out after orgasming usually and so I wanted to make sure I was satisfied first. I had a bit of trouble coming but The Pedant took the Hitachi from me unbidden (which is an interesting coincidence because I had privately decided that I should teach him how to use it on me – I get tired of my sex life basically being wanking in front of guys) and followed my directions reasonably well and just having someone else be the one stimulating my clit was enough to get me going and get me off pretty fast.

Then I rode him some more, trash-talking that I should just leave him tied up and unsatisfied when I went to that evening’s shift and he’d have to wait like a passive piece of fuckmeat for me to come home and use him again. He just about lost his mind at the hotness of that idea (not that I’d do it, and I don’t think he’d genuinely want me to, either). He started begging to come and I was like “Will you be able to go again once I get back from work? Because I’ll want more of you.” He repeatedly, breathily, urgently promised me that if I let him come now he’d still be able to come again later. So I granted permission and KERPOW.

I left him passed out in my bed and went to work. At quitting time he texted me saying to let him know my ETA and he’d be waiting for me in the bedroom, naked except for the restraints. I cheekily asked if he could add “…and holding a sandwich” to that scenario, and told him he’d find gluten-free bread, mayo, prosciutto, cheese, and tomatoes in the fridge. It felt a little daring to do that – I’m only officially his dominant when it comes to sexual stuff, and he doesn’t seem to like doing domestic things too much. But he totally did make me a sandwich and greet me with it, and that was lovely.

The soles of my feet were all black from walking around barefoot during breaks at work (art studios often have charcoal dust on the floor, plus this particular place was just kinda filthy) and The Pedant said I ought to wash the grime off, adding that actually it might be easier to just shower again, and that the hot water might help my back that I’d strained in a long pose, too. I opted to take a hot bath, instead, with Epsom salts. I bade The Pedant come kneel by the tub and wash anyplace I couldn’t reach. I put bubble stuff in the bath as well as the salt, so The Pedant idly scooped up handfuls of suds and rubbed his hands over my arms, belly, and legs while I soaked. Then I had him scrub my back with the loofah. I washed my filthy feet myself, though. šŸ™‚

The hot water had made me itchy, perhaps from drying out my skin, so once I got out and dried off I lay on the bed and asked The Pedant to apply moisturizer to me, and he did, thoroughly, and turned it into a massage. When I asked him to move his massaging efforts from my legs to the soles of my feet, he did – and he listened to instructions and didn’t half-ass it! He mashed the tension out of my soles good and hard until I was a blissful puddle. It didn’t feel perfunctory and he didn’t constantly ask “feeling better?” like he was waiting for his cue to stop. WHAT IS THIS I CAN’T EVEN.

Once I finally felt fed and refreshed and clean and ready for action, what I ended up doing was tying The Pedant to the bed again and giving him a hand job while flexing two of my fingers in his ass. At one point he gave me the heads-up that if I kept going, he’d come. “Do you want to?” I asked. He said no, not yet, if he came he’d pass out and I’d said that I wanted to use him all evening long, so…(!!!!!!!!!)

But TBH my thigh muscles were sore as hell from all the sex and orgasms I’ve been having lately and I was really enjoying doing stuff to The Pedant. Now that I knew he was pretty close to coming, I kept a close eye on his responses and kept on slowly stroking his cock until his eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth formed a silent scream and he was literally a breath away from exploding in my hand – and then I’d let go of his cock and just finger his nipples or flutter the fingers that were inside him for a little while. I did this over…and over…and over…and over. I was kind of hoping that if I got him desperate enough, just my fingers in his ass or on his nipples would drive him over the edge, but alas no. He did start whispering “please…please…please…!” as I brought him toward the edge for like the tenth time though (probably sensing that I was absorbed in the hand job and wouldn’t need him to serve me in any other way that night, after all). I murmured, “Yes. Come for me.” And I kept on stroking him and he got really close but seemed to be having a hard time getting over (overstimulated?). I stopped moving my fingers inside him (cutting down on distractions, as it were) and that did the trick. He got all fidgety and pulled against the restraints and then bucked his shoulders off the mattress and howled with release. I resumed fluttering my fingers inside him and kept on steadily stroking his cock and he had like two more big spasms that seemed to take him by surprise and then finally seemed spent.

We didn’t fuck any more the next morning. I think we were both thoroughly used up. But there was cuddling and he ended up coming to work with me and hanging out for a bit (loath, as usual, to leave my side even though he had an errand in the opposite direction from where I was going. At every leg of the journey he’d be like “Well I might as well wait for the bus with you” all nonchalant n shit but then when the bus came he’d just kinda get on it with me for no good reason and still be nonchalant about it…).

But yeah. Good visit.


*I mean, we technically broke up and he calls us FWB now (even though he continues to act as intimate with me as he ever did and TBH I really think we’re dating again and he’s just kidding himself). And I’m less attached to and obsessed with him and I think he can feel that.

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The other night The Dandy and I had sorta decided we were gonna have sex but we weren’t hurrying toward it, just talking and goofing around. I asked him to beg me to torture his cock and balls – not that I’d do it, since I know he’s not into it, but I wanted the titillation of hearing him ask. He wouldn’t, though. He’s said and done other things just to please me but I guess this was the line.

I’m up for a certain amount of acting in order to turn him on, though, so I asked what incongruous-for-me thing he’d like to hear me say that would arouse him. He said he guessed an incongruous-but-hot thing for me to say would be “boss me around.”

“I have said that,” I said. “Maybe not in those exact words, but I’ve asked you a few times to tell me what you’d like me to do.” I think I’d asked him just that morning, actually…I mean the thing is, The Dandy doesn’t seem to have a lot of turn-ons and I’m a person who wants to really “wow” my partners in bed. So if a partner is kind of opaque in his reactions (as The Dandy often is) I’ll be like “Tell me what you want right now” in hopes that he’ll guide me to the specific things he craves and I’ll do them and that way I know I’m being good in bed, with him, at that moment.

Our conversation wandered off to other topics and then I ended up kissing/licking/sucking his cock (it’s really pretty and has great mouthfeel, and The Dandy is naked around the house a lot, so I get distracted that way a fair bit). After a few minutes I looked up at him, grinned, and said “boss me around.”

The Dandy hesitated.

“Tell me what to do,” I encouraged. “…Uh, just make sure it’s stuff I actually can do. Don’t tell me to deep throat you or anything.”

After another brief pause, The Dandy said “Well, I guess for starters I never told you you could stop sucking my cock.”

Ooooh, fun! After so many conversations where I tried to pry out of him what he wanted as a dominant (so I could attempt to give him some of it, although I’m not sure he realized that’s why I asked) he was finally opening up a bit. I made big eyes at him and softly said “I’m sorry, sir” (and his cock twitched in my hand) and went back to sucking and licking him. He reached down and petted my hair. After a while I looked up at him with the same big eyes and asked “Am I a good girl?” He said that I was and I said “Thank you, sir” (and his cock twitched again. Hee! Dance, puppet, dance!) and went back to it.

The Dandy gave me no further instructions and my jaw started to get tired so eventually I disengaged and asked “permission to board?” while shifting my gaze pointedly between his face and his cock. He said yes and I got out the condoms and lube and from there our sex proceeded like it normally does.

Afterward, I asked if he’d liked telling me what to do. “It was…kind of disconcerting,” The Dandy said, “but yeah, I did like it.”

I laughed because I totally know what he means about it being disconcerting. That morning when we had sex (I’ve been a huuuuge horndog lately and Dandette’s been gone so I’m just on him all the time), I was on top and at one point The Dandy laced his fingers with mine and pulled me forward so I ended up basically pinning his arms to the mattress. Which…should have been hot? He’s got such gorgeous blue eyes and they look even bigger when he gazes up at me, which he was doing. But I know he’s dominant so it’s like…is he doing this in a conscious attempt to turn me on? Does he just not realize that his current position might come across as bottomy to me? How much am I allowed to enjoy this? If I enjoy it too much or make too big a thing of it will it kill his boner? Etc.

I’m blanking on what exactly I said to The Dandy here. I definitely said I’m willing to play that way sometimes – with him telling me what to do and stuff. I may have added a codicil that he not act too stereotypically domly-dom. I definitely brought up the fact that I will sometimes enjoy him in a dominant sorta way inside my head and I’m pretty sure he knows it but I deliberately refrain from acting really toppy like with trash talk n shit because I figure that would be a boner-killer for him. He agreed that it would be. I think we’re both on the same page here of being willing to give the other person some fantasy fuel as long as they use it responsibly. šŸ˜€

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