Tag Archives: The Dandy

Another thing to remember

The Dandy initiated sex last night. It had been a while since we’d fucked and aaaages since we fucked because he initiated it. He seemed engaged and was actively trying to use a bit of artistry and make it fun for me rather than just fling himself on me and go after his own orgasm.

So that’s something.

Afterward, in a fit of insecurity (because gaps in sex with a partner always make me afraid he’s stopped liking me, and yeah we’d just finally had sex again but this just reminded me even more of how we hadn’t in a bit) I asked him to tell me a thing he likes about me. He said “Your boobs.”

I’m not horrified by this answer. Boobs are likeable and mine are nice. I still wish he’d compliment something about me as a person, though. So far when I’ve asked what he likes about me he’s said (on several occasions) the fact that I compliment him, and I think one time he said it’s neat that I’m so tall. When I’ve asked him to tell me a thing he likes about me living here he’s said “the sex” both times. I can’t recall him adding on anything else. This is another reason I get freaked out when he doesn’t want to fuck, btw. If the sex is the main reason he keeps me around, but he no longer wants to have sex with me…

And yet I don’t think he’s giving me an accurate picture of things. I don’t think he only likes me because I’m reasonably attractive, I make him feel attractive, and I’ll fuck him. Meh, maybe I’m wrong. But I’ve noticed that sometimes when I’m geeking out about a creative project I’m working on, or about my job (which is also a creative project of sorts) he gets a tremendous grin like he just loves that I’m a creative jack-of-all-trades. And Dandette is also a creative jack-of-all-trades, and he clearly fell for her at some point. So at the very least it seems as though he’s attracted to out-of-the-box thinkers.

But I know it’s hard for him to give compliments at all; he has expressly told me this. Maybe somehow complimenting me on shallow stuff, the stuff you’d expect a guy to notice, is easier for him.

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Just so I remember

The other night The Dandy came home from a two-day work retreat thing, and I was watching Netflix. I assumed he would say hi to me and then head straight to the bedroom to catch up on YouTube videos about swords, but remarkably, the show I was watching caught his attention for whatever reason and he ended up sitting down and watching it with me until we’d used up all the available episodes. It wasn’t even a show that had superheroes or space lasers in it. (It was GLOW – the true-ish story of women wrestlers in the 80s – and I enjoyed it very much.)

So, he doesn’t always contrive to leave a room as soon as I enter it. Maybe he has phases of wanting to be alone but it’s not an all-the-time thing.

 

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Turmoil and comfort

The day Dandette checked herself into the mental hospital, I was not in a good headspace. My own mental issues were spiking. I was freaking out at the prospect of living, indefinitely, with someone whose moods are so up-and-down. I was upset that she told The Dandy where she was going but not me. And I wanted to get out of the house before Dandette returned, just in case she was still freaking out; I couldn’t handle it.

I texted The Pedant basically begging him to come for coffee or something and comfort me. He wasn’t able to right away, and he flat-out said he was broke so I’d have to pay. That was fine by me. I took him to Swiss Chalet and he was his wonderful, comforting self.

He seems to have gotten over his previous conviction that I need him to know what anxiety is like. It’s his emotionless clarity and logic I’m after and I think he finally gets that (thank god. I was getting sick of arguing the point). I specifically told him, over big plates of chicken, that the apartment is too fraught and full of feelings right now and it was comforting to be around someone who’s kinda flat. “Does The Dandy not give you that?” he asked.

“Actually, he does. He’s not a terribly emotional person, and it’s one of the things I really like about him. But you’re a lot better at talking me down. It feels like someone told The Dandy ‘women need you to just nod and listen while they vent’ so that’s what he does – even when I am directly asking him to do specific things to help me.”

“And that’s not at all what you need.”

“Well, it has its place sometimes. But I mean sometimes my anxiety makes me unable to decide between two arbitrary choices and I’ll ask him to tell me which one to pick, just so I get unstuck, and he won’t. I asked him about this once and he said he’s afraid of having that responsibility in case the thing he picks doesn’t work out for me.”

“Ah. Whereas I don’t have that fear. I know that I’ve made the best decision I could based on the available info so there’s no use worrying about it.”

“Yeah, and you also know that I’m not gonna blame it on you if things turn out badly.”

“That, too.” And he regaled me with some stories of exes who were not so reasonable.

We talked a bit more about how I like it when someone offers suggestions etc when I talk about my problems, and that them empathizing – like, feeling my distress and reflecting it back at me, as many people would – tends to make me even more anxious and I don’t like it. I said that The Pedant consistently being there for me when I need him demonstrates to me that he cares about my well being, and that’s all the caring I need – not for him to be all caught up in whatever my problem is. He said that he’s not emotionally invested in my problems whatsoever (which, put that way, sounded a little cold) but that it is indeed important to him that I’m happy (which is maybe the first time he’s ever said that to me, and is as close to an “I love you” as I’ll probably get from him for the next few years).

OH and I guess he thinks of us as “dating” again. A while back he had asked if I was okay with us being “friends with benefits” (I guess he felt a need to differentiate me as less important than his other girlfriend?). I was like yeah, FWB, whatever. My observation with The Pedant is that once he loves someone, those feelings never actually go away, and he did tell me he loved me at one point. Certainly he was treating me exactly the same way as he ever did when he thought of me as his primary partner.

But the other night he said that he wants to introduce me to NewGirl sometime; that they both felt they should introduce any other serious partners to each other, and given how long he and I have been seeing each other, we certainly count as serious.

He also said that he mentioned to NewGirl that I have a housemate going through mental health issues that are making living here difficult for me, and she said I could crash at their place sometimes if I wanted(!). That…is amazing. I am frankly stunned by her generosity.

I asked The Pedant “If I’m over and NewGirl is there, what’s the etiquette? Do I need to not be physically affectionate with you, or…?” and he said nah, it was all totally fine(!), including us fucking in the next room where she could hear us(!). Now, The Pedant sometimes makes stupid assumptions, and also NewGirl hasn’t been poly before, so I’m not 100% believing that it’s total carte blanche. But it seems like I can at least kiss him in front of her and gauge her reaction and that she’ll probably be okay. The rest we can play by ear.

The Pedant asked if I’d like to crash at his and NewGirl’s place that night and I was tempted but ultimately said no. Too much newness (new dynamic seeing him with someone else, new bed to sleep on – in this case a shitty old single futon with no sheets because they have more apartment than furniture – new kitchen that may or may not have anything in it I can eat). I had to work the next day and needed rest. But I appreciated the offer very much.

I can’t remember what-all else we talked about during that evening (during which we sat in Swiss Chalet til it closed and then found a park to sit in some more). He just generally talked me down from my crisis and held me while I cried intermittently and managed to slip in about a thousand little compliments about my appearance, lifestyle, personality, and relationship skills (possibly the best one was something about wanting to be there for me because I’ve always been so excellent at supporting him, and when I said “I try” he replied “actually you make it look pretty effortless.”)

Oh and near then end when I was feeling substantially calmer we went on a whole segue into sex talk. I was talking about how wonderful it is to have Dandette around doing the lion’s share of cooking and cleaning. He said it’s too bad we weren’t seeing each other when I still had my stable day job (we were, actually, but Minx was still living with me so it’s moot) because he was unemployed back then and could have been my houseboy. He went on at length about how he would have unfucked my hugely cluttered, filthy apartment little-by-little and also had dinner waiting for me when I got home (“And presented it to me kneeling, in nothing but your collar” I interjected, and he gave a tiny little gasp as he is wont to do when he’s turned on. :D). He added that it’s certainly not something he felt he could do for very long. “Well, it would’ve been a hell of a month or so,” I said (honestly figuring I was pushing my luck even thinking that long). He said “Well I would have gone longer than that.” RAWR.

He walked me up to my apartment door and we kissed and I longed to fuck him but knew it wasn’t the right time and we said goodbye instead.

Inside, The Dandy was making himself cheesy garlic bread and Dandette wasn’t home yet but expected to be released shortly. I bade The Dandy make me a piece of cheesy garlic bread, too (gluten free though) which he cheerfully did. And – although The Pedant had left me feeling a lot better than I was before – I guess I still had a lot of angst, or The Pedant had distracted me with his sexiness rather than defusing my original angst, or something. Because I started venting to The Dandy about a lot of stuff and ended up in his arms, crying my fucking face off.

Somewhere int here, I mentioned to him how I’d specifically asked him for verbal comfort before to help with my anxiety and he hadn’t done it. He looked baffled and had no idea what I was talking about. I recounted the conversation and he said he just hadn’t gotten it, somehow, and that if that happens in future, just ask him again in different words.

I explained to him (not for the first time) that I have a really hard time asserting my needs in the first place when I’m anxious because AssholeBrain likes to tell me I’m a liar and a faker for attention and really there’s nothing wrong. So when I say I’m not doing well and I get no “Oh shit, how can I help?” response, I assume the other person has looked at me and assessed me to be doing just fine so I really am a faker. And I can’t – cannot – bring myself to go “Yeah but seriously though I need you.”

On an unrelated note, I also expressed guilt feelings that I was venting to him when he already had Dandette and her issues to deal with (and added that every time I’ve told someone about our household menage and they’ve said “Heh heh, lucky guy, gets to have his cake and eat it, too” I wanna punch them in the fucking face) and The Dandy was very sweet and said I’m allowed to be going through stuff and he wasn’t overwhelmed by it or anything. So I felt a lot better.

Incidentally, though, I still haven’t been sleeping well and when I came home from work this evening I told The Dandy that I thought I might need a nap after dinner to try to reset me – and that it would really help if he spooned me and petted my head for ten minutes or so, so my brain would calm down enough to maybe let me rest. And he never approached me to do this or brought it up again since.

I honestly wonder if he ever even listens to me when I’m upset or if he just sits there with a comforting expression and nods at intervals while mentally planning out what to watch next on YouTube.

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Goldilocks and the two Dandettes

The thing about Dandette, I’ve realized, is that she’s either Too Big or Too Small for me and there’s not much middle ground.

When her anxiety is at bay, she’s super friendly and talkative and somewhat loud. If I’m watching a movie, she’ll come and start talking to me to a point where I have to pause it, and doesn’t register at all that she might be disturbing me*. If I close my bedroom door to have a nap (but don’t announce that I’m going to have a nap) she’ll talk to me right through the door, not even asking if I have a minute or only talking if it’s something important, just straight up “Ha ha I just saw an awesome meme of Facebook” level stuff. She has a running joke where every single time she hears me talking to one of the animals, she’ll pretend I must be talking to her (“You’re so cute.” “I am?”/”You’re a doggie!” “No I’m not!”).

To be clear, I’m not saying that she talks constantly. She likes to zone out in front of the internet or a video game or a movie as much as anyone else; there are long periods of silence. I’m just saying…if any thought comes into her head at all that she feels like sharing, she does. Regardless of where I am or what I’m doing. And I’m a little afraid of quashing that, for two reasons: 1) the way her anxiety works, I worry that if I say “Hey I’m actually in the middle of something right now” even once, she’ll become obsessed with the idea that she’s bothering me every single time she speaks**. 2) She’s been on a really rocky road lately mental health-wise and so I never know how long her happy, loquacious periods will last. I kind of want to enjoy them while I can.

Which brings me to Dandette’s other side: barely able to speak above a whisper, stuttering hard, constantly apologizing, recoiling from touch, unable to be around people. ***

And it flips back and forth fast sometimes, for no discernible reason. She can have whole days of being her real self, the talkative one. And then suddenly: unintelligible recluse.

This morning she called out a cheery hello when she heard The Dandy and I stirring. We had that whole conversation about my shitty day yesterday and she handled it like a pro. I had a nap (during which she made some small talk two or three times through my closed door). And just now I was headed to the kitchen while she was headed out the door for a smoke and I casually said “Oh btw, yesterday I literally told The Dandy that I needed someone to give me permission to sleep, and he didn’t say anything.”

I expected her to roll her eyes and go “Ugh, he’s an idiot. Don’t worry; I’ve got your back” like she’s said a million times before. Instead she made eye contact with me and in that split second it became very, very obvious to me that my interacting with her was a major inconvenience. She whispered “I’m s-s-sorry…”

It wasn’t clear to me whether she was apologizing for being in a panicky headspace, apologizing for The Dandy’s behaviour in a general way, or thinking I was somehow blaming her for him being a dumbass, so I quickly added “I’m really glad that you ‘get’ me the way you do” but she darted through the door and shut it before I’d even finished talking and now I feel like an asshole for even trying to approach her. Perhaps I should have known better; before that, I’d been internetting in the bedroom with the door ajar and saw her pass the doorway several times without looking at me or speaking to me. But that’s not always a telltale sign; sometimes she’s capable of passing by me without saying anything even when she’s mentally stable. I’ve had times where I was avoiding her because I thought for sure she was in anxiety-mode and then she’d suddenly start chatting with me and I felt dumb for being so afraid of her.

(…Huh. The Dandy just texted me asking “What’s up? I just got a text from Dandette that she’s going to [local mental hospital].” Okay, guess it wasn’t a smoke break, then. And hey, why would she bother telling me where she was going? It’s not like I live here or care about her or anything. It’s cute that The Dandy would think I know anything, though.)

Oh, but also, plot twist: a few nights ago, Dandette seemed pretty stable. She had just been in the bedroom chatting with The Dandy. Her voice was at a normal volume; relaxed; no stutter. I think she made some jokes, even. I gauged that it was safe to chat with her and I had a thing to say so I wandered to where she was in the living room. She’s been prescribed Clonazepam for when she has panic attacks but she uses them very, very sparingly because you build up a tolerance and they stop working. I said “I got prescribed Lorazepam a while back but they didn’t seem to do much so I threw them out. It’s too bad because if I still had them I could give -”

Dandette interjected: “To be honest I DON’T CARE ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Are you…going through some stuff?”

“YES.” The look on her face was absolutely vicious. You’d think I was stomping on puppies instead of trying to be supportive of her mental health needs. I turned around and went back to the bedroom.

I love Dandette. I know that her true self is sweet and funny and compassionate, and that the other side of her is just shitty brain chemistry blanketing over her real personality. It’s clear to me that she’s not faking any of these mood swings or panic attacks, for attention or anything else. She is suffering and I want to help and support her as best I can.

But I swear the only way I can keep living here and be even the tiniest bit okay is if I never speak to her unless spoken to. I don’t know who she ever is at any given moment and I can’t deal with the unpredictability. YOU GUYS I GREW UP IN AN ABUSIVE HOUSEHOLD. I had an angry, violent father whose every mood and whim I had to carefully monitor so I could adapt my behaviour accordingly and stay safe(ish). I had a mother who adored me 90% of the time but would occasionally do a total 180 and be cold and apathetic toward me. Not because I’d done anything. It was her clinical depression acting up, I think, and/or built-up resentment about her shitty life choices.

Most of the time, living here is good. I don’t know whether The Dandy and I will turn out to be a passionately in-love long-term couple, but he and Dandette and I make a pretty decent family unit. We support each other and we mostly seem to all know how we fit in. I generally like it here better than I would like living alone (or at least, better than I would like living alone in the sort of apartment I could realistically afford). And believe it or not I’ve come really far in learning to live my life and not try to fix or control The Dandy or Dandette. But the unpredictability thing is killing me. I hope I can figure out how to deal.

 

*Of possible relevance: she’s autistic. Like diagnosed and everything.

**This may only happen if I did that while she was in one of her bad phases. I’ll have to ask The Dandy about this.

***And sometimes having panic attacks, which comprise all of those things plus she looks terrified and can’t speak at all.

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Dandette to the rescue

This morning Dandette and I were chatting and I told her that my day yesterday had been spent in a horrible spiral of being too tired to get out of bed but too guilty to go to sleep (she did not know that because what it looked like from the outside was me idly surfing the ‘net all day). I used the phrase “my brain screams at me that I’m a lazy asshole and I need to get up and accomplish things.” Dandette said “you’re not lazy or an asshole. It’s okay to need to sleep. Look, today your job is to lounge in bed, okay? And take a nap if you need to.”

See? I didn’t even spell out for her the part where I need permission to sleep, and she got it. Whereas even when I specifically told The Dandy what would help me yesterday, he didn’t do it.

Why does he suck so hard?

 

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I think I’ve ranted about this before but

I’m fairly sure my depression, anxiety, etc don’t really affect the people around me much (well, provided the people around me aren’t die-hard extroverts who want me to call them on the phone or go to parties all the time with them). I’m not mood-swingy or mean. My sex drive doesn’t drop. I just spend a lot of time silently freaking out inside my head.

And although I’m glad that my mental crap doesn’t make life hard for my friends and partners, I am increasingly realizing that this is a double-edged sword: my anxiety and depression don’t look like much of anything, so people don’t realize it’s happening. And since part of my mental issues are that my brain constantly tells me I’m a faker and a drama queen and it can’t really be that bad, I’m not really able to say “Dandy, shit inside my head is going seriously sideways. I feel like I’m drowning. Please help me, right now.” At most I’ll manage to say “ummm I’m not having a very good day” and The Dandy (or whoever) will say “awwww” and then move on without asking if there’s anything I need. And because he didn’t really express concern I figure he can’t have seen anything too terribly wrong with me, so this just confirms that I’m being a drama queen over nothing.

It took me a while to realize it but I am not doing well today. I don’t think I’ve been doing well for a long time. I’m angry and paranoid all the time. I can’t sleep and it’s driving me mad.

I tried to tell The Dandy today that I’m not okay. I told him that I get into a loop of sorts, sometimes – and I’m in one now – where I haven’t slept well and it’s made me all lethargic and grouchy and killed my attention span so I can’t get up and do anything, but I can’t let myself sleep, either, because my brain is busy screaming at me that I’m a stupid lazy asshole who should get up and do something. I even went so far as to tell him that I think it would help a lot for someone to “give me permission” to sleep. And hopefully also to spoon me for a bit and pet my head so my anxiety brain will slow down enough to let me sleep. Yeah, I didn’t blatantly tell The Dandy to do those things. I feel like I’ve already pushed my luck with him by getting him to give me an orgasm earlier. He’s in hardcore Watching YouTube Videos About Swords mode and usually gets angry at interruption. But I put the thought out there in case he wanted to help me.

Instead he just said “That sounds unpleasant” in a sympathetic tone and went back to the computer. He didn’t even bother saying “Yes, you should sleep, it’s okay to sleep” like I said I needed. It’s not like saying that would have taken up a lot of sword video time. He could have said it instead of “that sounds unpleasant” in fact, and broken even.

And I just…I’m feeling kind of angry. I feel like I’m in the middle of a lake drowning, watching The Dandy puttering around on the shore, and I’m waving frantically to try to get his attention and he cheerily waves back, thinking I’m just swimming.

And I’ve told him that I need him to take me more seriously when I tell him I’m not well or need help. I’ve told him that Dandette may want to be left alone when she’s spinning out, but what I need is to feel cared for and validated and usually also I’ll have some concrete actions a person could do that would help me, so can he please remember that.

But here we are.

It’s not anyone’s responsibility to save me but me. If The Dandy doesn’t want to take time away from the computer to spoon me to sleep, I get that, I guess. What I’m stuck on is that I explicitly said that maybe someone granting me “permission” to sleep might help me, and he didn’t do even that. He didn’t say a few words to me that I expressly told him I wanted to hear that might make my quality of life better. And what does this mean about him? Is he obtuse or not listening or does he not understand or does he not care? Like…I can’t…even…

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Renewed

By the way, a friend of The Dandy’s family died recently and the funeral was the day before our scheduled Thanksgiving ‘do so he drove out to his mom’s place on Friday night, did the funeral on Saturday, and drove his mom back here with him for Sunday afternoon so we could do the food thing.

As you know if you’ve been reading this blog a while, I’ve been having doubts about my relationship with The Dandy lately. I’ve been feeling not-so-into him and it seemed pretty mutual.

But my guess is that it really is the near-constant together-time that’s been harshing his buzz (and maybe mine, too) because when arrived here again with his mom, I was suddenly attracted to him again – he came through the door and all his pretty just whapped me full in the face. During a private moment I briefly cupped his junk and said “I want a piece of this later.” At the time he did his awkward chuckle thing and I thought “Well fuck, I guess he’s not into it” but we did indeed have sex later – even though his mom had stayed over in Dandette’s room. God, I envy The Dandy’s ability to come so silently. Meanwhile I knew that I’d have to go wanting because I require the Hitachi to get off and that fucker sounds like a jet engine. But I decided to make the sacrifice. I did tell The Dandy I wanted him to make it up to me the next day (and explicitly added “…By Hitachi-ing me until you have to peel me off the ceiling” and he said okay).

So, I straddled The Dandy, figuring we’d just start fucking pretty much from a cold start as usual (well, cold for me – I’d been sucking his cock before then). But before I could get a condom out, he started stroking my breasts. Lightly and with focus, not halfassedly rubbing his hand back and forth on my skin. His fingertips moved around my ribcage and up my back and my eyes were pretty much rolling back in my head. Of course he gives me foreplay during the one sexual encounter where he knows I can’t come… *facepalm.*

Every time I managed to open my eyes between little moments of ecstasy, The Dandy was looking at me. Not staring off into space or lying there with his eyes closed like he normally does. He was fully engaged with watching my reactions, and I swear he even had that starstruck look that men have given me when they’re mesmerized by how beautiful they think I am. I was giving it right back because good lord did he look good to me in that moment. “You’re so pretty,” I murmured.

I didn’t say it to hear it back, but after a few seconds The Dandy gave a little twitch, as though goosed by the idea that he needed to respond in kind, and said “So are you. Or at least, I like looking at you.” It’s…odd that he modified his compliment like that. I kind of wanted to know what he meant by that. But I decided not to pursue it because hey, he had that starstruck look on his face and that’s all I really wanted. I don’t care if he thinks I legit look like a supermodel or if he thinks I’m average-looking but his feelings for me make me look hot; I only care that he gives me that look where he seems absolutely entranced by my face. It’s been a while since anyone’s given me that; unsure if bad partner selection or if there are just flat-out fewer men who find me attractive now that I’m middle-aged.

So I responded to his at-least-I-like-looking-at-you with “Nothing else matters.”

I got a front-row seat on his orgasm, which looked like a good one and began really abruptly, without the four or five deep breaths that would usually precede it. One minute I was thrusting away while he lay under me dead silent and the next he was orgasm-breathing and throwing his head back with just the most ecstatic expression. And giggling – when he has a good orgasm, he always gets the giggles, kinda like me. And afterward we talked and laughed til late into the night in a way we haven’t in ages, and he petted me some more – adeptly. So…maybe he does know how I like to be touched. His default setting is to rub my skin instead of giving the slight, tickly touch that I like, and I always, always have to say “lighter” several times and usually he still doesn’t change it. I’ve wondered whether this is just another area where he started off aiming to impress but then took me for granted and stopped trying; when we were first dating, he did touch me lightly, and focused on my reactions and revisited the areas that made me moan the hardest and stuff. Only once I was firmly emotionally invested did I start having to ask to be touched and he’d just plunk his hand on me while staring off into the middle distance and not paying any attention to my reactions.

Anyway.

The next morning (ie a few hours ago) I woke up and looked over and The Dandy was sound asleep on his back, pitching an adorable tent under the sheet. Well actually at first I wasn’t sure if it was a fold or a trick of the eye or something so I gave it a little grope to be sure. This woke him up and I ended up fucking him again* (mentioning to him that the previous round had given me sex dreams all night because I was all backed up for orgasms, and reminding him that I was gonna really really want some attention from him once his mom was gone). It was fun. As he got close to coming he seemed to be whispering under his breath, his lips barely moving. I’ve heard him do this during sex before, come to think of it. I’m dying to know what he’s saying but I expect he has no idea he’s doing any of this so if I ask about it he’ll draw a blank.

We then showered and dressed and put in some obligatory hangout time with his mom, and then The Dandy drove her to the train station. Dandette went out for a cigarette during this time so I quick-fast relieved my tension with the Hitachi while I had the chance. I would have preferred to break that particular fast with The Dandy but I had a feeling that despite my slightly exaggerating how pent up and desperate I was (I was a bit pent up and I did have sex dreams all night because of not getting any release, but things weren’t at critical levels…yet) The Dandy would not arrive back home and go “Okay! Get in that bedroom ’cause I’m gonna rock your world!

And indeed, I was right. When he got back he went straight to the living room to watch YouTube videos about swords. Seems kinda rude for him to do that when, as far as he knew, I was all backed up. He wouldn’t have known that Dandette went for a smoke while he was driving his mom home. And he knows that I don’t feel comfortable masturbating with Dandette within earshot (she was lounging in her bedroom which is right next to ours). I barely feel comfortable getting off with him when she’s within earshot. Which is one reason why I didn’t go grab him from the living room and be like “Yo, it’s time.” I didn’t want her to realize we’d sneakily had sex so close to his mom (twice!); I didn’t want her to feel like I was monopolizing The Dandy’s sexual attention; I didn’t want her to feel jealous and bitter that I was dragging him into the bedroom just for him to get me off when he hasn’t given her an orgasm since January. If he’d come in and volunteered his services (even with her right next door) I would have said yes, though.

Later, though, The Dandy happened to come into the bedroom to see what I was up to just as Dandette went out for a smoke. I pointedly said “Hey, sounds like we have the place to ourselves for the next ten minutes or so.” He said nothing (admittedly I didn’t wait super long) so I waggled my eyebrows until he caught my gist (if he hadn’t before). He smiled and nodded – a little limply, it seemed to me; not with much enthusiasm. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But he did get me off. He had that issue, again, with drifting the Hitachi away from my clit at key moments, so the process took substantially longer than it really needed to. Which is not the most horrifying thing ever except I’ve never really felt that The Dandy likes getting me off and I don’t want to sort of justify his boredom by taking a really long time. I could have come within seriously two minutes or less if he’d kept his movements consistent, but as it stood I took at least five. Afterward I once again stressed (tactfully, in a nonchalant tone) that it’s important to keep the Hitachi against the shaft of my clit and not drift off elsewhere. Once again he said that it’s just so harrrrrrrd. I am losing patience with this. We’ve recently switched from using the side of the (sort of barrel-shaped) head of the Hitachi on me to him kneeling between my legs and applying the flattened top surface to me; that way a lot more vibrating surface area is in contact with me, so there’s a lot more of a margin for error (vs using the rounded side where he’s contacting me with a much smaller area). But he still wanders up so high on my mons that all he’s vibrating is bone. And I don’t feel like I can sit him down and be like “Yeah no dude you need. To pay. ATTENTION” because he has a bunch of baggage from his exes yelling at him over not doing sexual stuff “right.”

Oh shit it just occurred to me: maybe his exes weren’t unduly mean to him, as I’ve been assuming. Maybe he kept halfassing things despite their continued polite encouragement and instructions and they finally got fed up, like I am.

On a side note: I love love love the idea of “using” a guy sexually, to a point where sometimes if a partner is trying to get me off and my body isn’t cooperating I’ll start thinking “this man exists only to give me pleasure. Nothing else about him is useful or relevant. His needs and personhood don’t matter” and KAPOWWWWWWWW.

But the guy has to want to be used. He needs to have that tangible vibe of wanting to be of service to me and of entering a focused, almost meditative state when he’s touching me. Noticing every little twitch and breath. Continually refining what he’s doing in search of more twitches, deeper breaths, moans, howls. If a guy¬†doesn’t seem deeply into my pleasure like that, getting him to get me off feels more like a dental procedure or something. Clinical. I can’t get into my “you’re not even a person, just a thing I use to hold my vibrator” fantasy with The Dandy lately because I’m so certain he’s just Hitachi-ing me because I told him to.

I really, really need to find myself a man who wants to be my sex toy. Like, sincerely wants to do whatever I want and whatever works for me, and loves discovering my body and how it works.

But to acquire this, I really will need my own room.

I also want to be away from The Dandy more often so we have time to miss each other and maybe the sex will be good like it was last night. This, too, will require my own room.

God I hope a three-bedroom place opens up soon.

 

*Just noting for posterity: I was stroking his cock and then had to pee so I said “I’m going to go to the bathroom. When I get back, I want you scootched to the centre of the bed because reasons.” This is exactly the sort of thing I say to The Pedant when I’m topping/domming him – same tone and everything. And The Dandy took no objection to it whatsoever. Later, he was standing at the foot of the bed in his pajama pants and I indicated (as I often have) that I wanted him to display his cock for my admiration. I indicated this with a slightly bossy and dismissive “pants down now” hand gesture. He had no problem with that, either. It’s intriguing, the seemingly arbitrary things he bristles at because he feels bossed around and the other things I do that I would think would offend him, but don’t.

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