Tag Archives: The Dandy

Moar furniture

I found another dresser out in the garbage area of the building last night. It’s lower quality than the others we’ve found – parts of it are made of particleboard, not solid wood. But it’s in pretty good condition and I like how tall and narrow it is – I think I might put it in my walk-in closet and use it for all my modelling props. Even if I opt to have it in the bedroom proper it has a small footprint and won’t overwhelm the room, so that’s cool. It’s horrible beige though so I’ll want to repaint it.

When I alerted The Dandy last night to this possible find and we were on our way down with the dolly to investigate further, I said “Don’t judge me if it turns out not to be that great. It’s half-buried under a bunch of stuff and also it’s too dark out to properly look at it.”

The Dandy didn’t answer, but gave me a warm and genuine smile that let me know it was absolutely okay and I didn’t have to worry. That if we ended up not wanting the dresser, he wouldn’t feel angry at me for wasting his time.

And that one brief exchange made me realize both how flinchy I am from previous relationships and how lovely and easygoing The Dandy is.


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Moar talk

So I parked myself in The Dandy’s bedroom doorway and (because I’m not good at gracefully starting conversations, and because if I said “we need to talk” he probably would’ve panicked) I launched straight into “Can you continue to assume that if we’re doing sexual stuff I’ll probably want an orgasm?”

“Yes,” The Dandy said.

“And if I reach for my toys will you understand that I probably expect you to help me out?”


“And you’ll follow whatever directions I give and seem cheerful and helpful about it?”

“Yes.” The Dandy’s face during all of this was open and friendly.

“Okay. That meets my minimum requirements.” I came forward, kissed him, moved around his computer chair to sit on his bed. I started talking some more about things, and I can’t exactly remember what I said or what order things happened in. I think I got to thinking out loud along the lines of, wouldn’t The Dandy feel sad if I never initiated getting him off. But then I realized, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he doesn’t care about this stuff as much as me. I just don’t know. He said “I care, but apparently not as much as you do.”

I pointed out that I asked him once, long ago, whether he’d be fine with it if a hot woman picked him up at a nightclub, went home with him…and then humped his leg until she orgasmed and then fell asleep without offering to get him off in return. His answer at the time to whether he’d be fine with that was “Not twice…” So apparently these things do matter to him at least a little bit.

And I told him that, okay, maybe he doesn’t mind feeling neglected in bed as much as I do, but partly that’s because he’s a dude and ALL OF SEXUALITY generally revolves around what he wants and likes. So he won’t have had dozens of partners in his life who acted like his orgasm was an unnecessary “extra” thing, or who never ever got him off unless he specifically asked (sometimes not even then). But I have.

I asked him to imagine – really try to imagine – what it would feel like if I initiated sexual stuff by basically pointing at my junk like “yo, my genitals want attention” and then after he got me off, I wouldn’t mention anything about giving him a turn. I’d be amenable enough to watching or helping him if he started jerking off, but I’d never, ever put my hand on his penis of my own accord; he’d have to put it there himself. Imagine if that was his entire sex life. (This description is a direct flip of how things are between The Dandy and I now, if that’s not clear.)

The Dandy started being belligerently silent and it was pissing me off but then I realized, oh…this is not his usual belligerent silence (where actually he’s just afraid because I’m mad at him, and he doesn’t know what to say); this is almost certainly the automatic defensive reaction that comes up when someone is forced to confront their privilege. So I didn’t badger him to answer me about what my hypothetical scenario would feel like or to admit that he’s being kind of a douche or anything. I’m just hoping he’ll let what I’ve said rattle around in his head a while and begin – eventually – to understand my point of view.

At some point in the convo I also snarked about him giving me that hateful look the other night when I asked him to reposition himself so he had a better angle on what he was doing. He protested that he didn’t mean anything personal, he just felt really tired at the time and was half-asleep. “You weren’t too tired to accept that blowjob, though,” I pointed out. “And that’s kinda bullshit.” I went on to say that being too tired to get me off once in a while would be sorta okay if he were, um, providing a higher level of service to me, generally. But it’s not like he’s taking initiative or offering me “freebie” orgasms without asking anything in return or focusing on my pleasure really well even at the best of times. I brought up (I think it was then but it may have been at some other point in the conversation) that sometimes when he’s having a bath I’ll come in and give him a handjob just ’cause I like watching him come, and also because I know he takes baths to relax so I figure I’ll help him relax even more. I make an effort to give him pleasure just because he likes it – not as barter for anything else – and I make an effort to be good at it. And maybe he really doesn’t care about that and wouldn’t miss it if I stopped doing it, I dunno. But for the record I do put in actual effort and thought into making him feel good. And I want to feel like others are doing that for me.

I concluded with: “The reason I came in here to say this, btw, is that I wanna have sex but not until we got our expectations hammered out. Ummmm not that you’re necessarily in the mood right now, even, but I’m putting it out there.”

The Dandy smiled at me, I guess just to show me he understands I don’t hate him or whatever.

“Oh,” I said, “And just as a point of interest, because it seems like other people don’t work like this so maybe I’m just weird: if I say I want sex or an orgasm, that doesn’t actually go away on its own for me. I mean other people seem kind of up-and-down, like ‘yeah no I was in the mood earlier but it kinda faded away since then’ but for me that doesn’t happen. The interest keeps on being there until it’s satisfied. Maybe these days I’m not so much, like, ‘arrrrrgh I’m gonna die if I don’t get laid,’ but still. The want is there, nudging me in the brain, all the time.”

“So, you don’t lose interest in sex thirty seconds after saying you want it?” The Dandy joked.

“I don’t lose interest days after I said I wanted it,” I said, carefully trying to keep my tone from being too pointed and hinty (but I was totally mentioning it because I said days ago that I wanted sex and it still hasn’t happened).

By that point the ranty/critiquing/negotiating part of our convo was definitely done, and The Dandy and I went on to chat in a relaxed fashion about what he should make for lunch and all kinds of other things, interspersed with hugs and kisses and no undertone of weirdness or resentment from him. I’m glad he doesn’t get so freaked out by our relationship talks anymore, and we can integrate them into our normal life pretty well. I worry, though, that he’s able to be so relaxed and stuff now because he’s not actually taking me seriously. His stiffness before is because he was afraid I’d break up with him. Now he seems to understand that I really want us to be permanent and it’ll take a fair bit for me to leave him – so does he figure that’s a get-out-of-jail-free card?

If we can strike a balance where it’s understood that we want to be together and that when I bring up relationship issues it’s in the spirit of us collaborating on fixing a thing rather than a me-against-him breakup threat kind of deal, that would be good. Like, if I could bring up a thing that’s bothering me and he’s not freaked out or defensive but he puts forth a sincere effort to fix the issue even though he knows I”m nowhere near wanting to leave him, that’d be great. We may have reached that point now, even, but it’s too soon to tell.

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I asked The Dandy if he remembers that we had a talk while he was drunk (I don’t know how drunk someone has to be to forget things) and he said yes. But he didn’t say anything further.

I mentioned that I had asked him if he thought things would change or not and he was taking a long time to answer and I was waiting and waiting and then I realized he’d fallen asleep and it was kinda funny. He laughed along with me but still opted not to address the issue or continue the conversation. Which I guess means he doesn’t wanna talk about it, but instead of seeming quiet and withdrawn like he usually is when I’m trying to discuss relationship issues, he seemed absolutely relaxed and was talking to me about other things and cracking jokes and stuff.

So I don’t know if that means he’s genuinely too much of a dumbass to understand that I want a resolution to the conversation, or if he thinks my saying “I guess things aren’t gonna change” is an “out” for him and nothing more is required, or what.

And, okay, me saying I guess he won’t change is kind of an “out”? But I want to hear him say the words. I want to hear him say “this is not a thing I can/will do for you.”

That’s been my big frustration in relationships – that I’ll tell my partner what I need from him and he never does it but also doesn’t tell me he’s never gonna do it so I can stop hoping. People who overpromise or mislead because they don’t know their own limitations (or are too selfish to be honest and risk losing me) piss me right the fuck off. I’m not perfect at knowing what I’m capable of – maybe nobody is – but I’m damn sure better at it than most people. If The Dandy told me, for instance, that in order to be happy with me, he’d need me to keep the kitchen spotless all the time, well, I wouldn’t want to lose him but I also know with absolute certainty that I am not going to be able to live up to that request. And I would tell him so. I’d tell him that with my fluctuating energy levels and highly inconsistent work schedule I can’t promise a perpetually tidy kitchen, but that I would try my very best to clean it up every couple of days at least. And I’d let him decide if this was a dealbreaker for him or not. I expect the same level of honesty from him when I’m the one asking for stuff.

Ugh, it’s bugging me that The Dandy isn’t finishing our conversation from the other night. Because the thing is I wanna have sex with him but I definitely want to clarify what I expect of him in bed first.

Maybe he doesn’t wanna talk about this right now but I think I’m gonna try.


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The Dandy had a social engagement after work tonight and came home so drunk that even my clueless ass could notice it.

But angst from last night had been boiling through my brain all day, and also I wondered whether The Dandy’s drunkenness would mean lowered inhibitions and therefore that he could talk things through with me easier than usual. So I went ahead and brought things up.

I don’t feel like I explained the first part of things well; the part where I felt like he was having all these different thought processes during the sexual encounter but wasn’t being open about them and made me guess instead.

The part about him being so perfunctory about my orgasm – and not offering me one despite me having gotten him off and also having told him several times over the past few days that I was interested in sex (“Spoiler alert:” I said, “When I wanna have sex with you it’s not because I just wanna get you off, it’s because I want something mutual“) – that part, I think he got loud and clear.

The booze didn’t help him to stay loose and talk it out with me. He lay on the bed beside me and put his arms around me but didn’t actually say much of anything.

He did ask what it was I was wanting him to do, exactly – like, in what way(s) I wanted him to behave differently. I said, with some annoyance, that I literally wrote that out in the list I’d sent him back in July. And also that I’ve been telling him what I want, over and over, pretty much since we’ve been together. I said I’ll sometimes see a little bit of improvement directly after I’ve talked to him, but then things go back to how they were before, so I guess his default state is not especially caring about my orgasms. I mean if he wanted to change in the ways I need, he would have by now, right?

The Dandy said nothing. I could see his heartbeat shaking his chest, though, and hear him panic-breathing. He reached out and gathered me in closer to him.

I went on to say that his being lax about my orgasms isn’t necessarily a relationship dealbreaker; we get along so well in so many other ways that I kinda still want to be his official Person, regardless. By which I mean his life partner or whatever. But if things aren’t gonna change, if the sex isn’t gonna get any better for me, I’d wanna know straight up. And it would probably affect my sex with him, because if I know damn well that someone finds my pleasure boring and/or inconvenient it’s not gonna put me in too much of a mood to make them feel good.

At some point during this conversation, I also asked if he could understand why the way he acts would make me think he’s not interested in getting me off. He said yes.

I also said that, ironically, if a guy thinks getting me off is boring work, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: I can tell that he thinks it and this makes it harder to come. I didn’t specifically say “The Pedant is better in bed than you” but I did tell him that when someone seems invested in my pleasure, I’m a lot more responsive and orgasm a lot more easily. I told him I’d been thinking my issues with coming were all due to my perimenopause dysfunction or whatever the fuck it is, but I’ve realized, no, part of it is Dandy-specific: I feel like he doesn’t really wanna be there getting me off, and this fucks with my head a lot. With someone who’s more…forthcoming, I’m forthcoming, too.

I think I asked him point-blank if he thinks things with him will change, or not. He held me tighter but remained silent. I sat there waiting for him to answer. And waiting and waiting and waiting. And then his breathing changed and I realized he’d fallen asleep.

Okay cool. Good talk.

I extricated myself from his arms and went off to clean the kitchen and watch some Archer on Netflix.

I hope he remembers our discussion (such as it was) in the morning.


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…To be clear…

The Dandy has improved some things with regards to sex. When I ride him, he doesn’t just lie there primly with his eyes shut, ignoring me, anymore. He’ll make eye contact sometimes and pet my back and stuff. The last time he was inside me it was kind of amazing, actually. He looked up at me a lot and the intimacy of it made me shiver. That was the time I sadly had to decline an orgasm after, but when I said I wanted to be petted, he clearly understood that I meant that as a substitute for orgasming, and he paid attention to me for a good while.

So he’s trying.

But I do think some of the things I wish were different are just fundamental parts of him that won’t change.

I will put a dangly thing out of my cats’ reach instead of yelling at them to stop swatting at it, because they’ll never stop swatting at it, because being obsessed with dangly things is what cats do. It would be ridiculous to expect that to change. By the same token, I think The Dandy simply doesn’t get the point of kissing, and never will. I think he’s not a person who feels passion per se – not in the sexy, “I’m so attracted to my partner that I wanna touch her in all the places” way – and it would be pointless to try to change this. If I told him to give me more foreplay I don’t see it coming off as anything but perfunctory.

And I think he is also fundamentally in the camp of “It’s fun to watch her orgasm but getting her there is kinda boring*” but in this particular case I say TOUGH SHIT, do it anyway and learn to appear somewhat engaged. I’ve told him several times that I want to feel like my pleasure is important to him, and even described what that would look like: offering orgasms without me asking, facing me with his eyes open while he helps get me off, focusing on what he’s doing so we don’t have situations like the time he Hitachi’d my thigh or the times he stopped thrusting the dildo. And he was doing okay at most of those things, but last night was a total fail.

The other sexual weirdnesses of his, I attribute to him very probably being on the autism spectrum. This “I want her to orgasm for my viewing pleasure without me having to work at it ever” is garden variety male assholery, though, and I do not accept it.


*He seems to enjoy it when I use him as a Hitachi-rest and grind up on him to get off while he just lies there (he orgasmed once when I was doing that, even). He seems fairly okay with me doing the Hitachi Sandwich thing during PIV, perhaps because he’s still getting his dick stimulated and if he’s lucky I’ll come during the sex and he won’t be expected to do anything else for me after. But I’ve never felt that he was particularly enthused about doing active, dedicated things (that don’t involve his dick) to help me come. And I hate that. Does he honestly think that when I’m tugging his dick for fifteen minutes (and having to switch hands four times because it’s taking so long that my forearm muscles hurt) that I’m like “WHEEEEEEEEE!” the entire time? Spoilers: NOPE. I enjoy the feel/taste of his cock for the first few minutes but after that I’m bored. I keep going because I like the orgasm, not the tedious shit leading up to it. And because I want him to feel happy and loved and pleasured.

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I knew the happiness would break sometime…

The great thing about being poly is that you have a basis for comparison that can help you realize when something’s wrong.

Like, I was attributing a bunch of things about my sex with The Dandy to the fact that my body is getting a bit sexually dysfunctional with age, but then The Pedant came over and I realized that with him:

  • I rarely need to use lube
  • I orgasm more easily
  • Sometimes he can even give me an orgasm – it doesn’t always have to be me doing it myself

In a sense I was right the first time and my issues with The Dandy are due to my sexual dysfunction – once upon a time I was an absolutely indomitable horndog who still got wet and came easily even if the sex had no foreplay or kissing or passion.

But I’ve always preferred foreplay and kissing and passion, and The Dandy doesn’t provide those things. And he still – despite my talking to him about this numerous times – doesn’t offer to help get me off.* I’ve realized that the only reasons I enjoy sex with him are that I love him, his face is pretty so it makes for a nice view while we fuck, and his cock isn’t big enough to hurt so it’s okay that we often get straight to it with no warm-up. If I lost my feelings for him, fucking him would hold about as much appeal as helping a stranger maneuver their couch down a flight of stairs – physical drudgery to a achieve a goal that only benefits the other person.

Anyway. None of this is even what I need to vent about today. It’s just context. Here’s the actual story:

My sex drive (at least where The Dandy is concerned) is plummeting lower than ever, but that’s sort of okay because he hasn’t seemed into it much, either. We’ve been just sorta peacefully coexisting without really doing sexual stuff – it’s like I entirely forgot about sex for a week or so, honestly. I didn’t angst about the lack of sex like I usually do.

A few days ago, though, I started craving him inside me. Groping his junk and hoping for an erection that never happened. A couple of days ago I said “sex later?” he said maybe, but nothing ever happened. The day after that I said “Hey, I wanna have sex with you. I know your job is really stressing you out lately, though. So should I assume you’re not gonna be interested for the next little while, or…?” He smiled at me and said no, he thought he might be up for something. Which I think is what he says when he’s not in the mood but figures his dick is functional enough that he could kinda force himself to fuck me anyway (so…not especially encouraging or flattering) and  no sex ended up happening that day, either. I decided to give up saying anything – I made my interest clear and now it was up to him. I was annoyed as hell that I gave him a clear “out” and he didn’t take it, though. Just fucking tell me you’re in a slump because work so I can put sex out of my mind and not worry that you’ve lost your attraction to me or whatever. Easy-peasy.

The day after that (which was yesterday), I was hanging out in The Dandy’s room while he idly surfed the ‘net. He opened his robe and started manually waggling his dick at me to tease me, as he often does. But this time, as he waggled, he got hard. Unsure if interest in sex or simply centripetal force pushing blood into his cock, but cool.

I don’t wanna be that thirsty person who tries to turn every tiny thing into sex to a point where their partner is afraid to even cuddle, buttttt usually when The Dandy shows off an erection to me it is his way of initiating.

It was maybe 1am by that time. I looked at his pretty erection and said “I would like you to put that in my vagina approximately two thousand times. But the dog needs to go out so maybe we should do that, first. You know my legs always end up sore after sex.”

This is the part of the story where I begin to feel irritated: The Dandy didn’t use his mouth-words. Not to say “I’d really rather do this first and the dog walk after” and not to say “can we do something aside from penetrative sex?” although I suspect both things were on his mind. No, what he did was grin at me and wag his dick a bunch more.

There have been many times that we seemed to be building up to sex but had to do some domestic chore first and the sex never did rematerialize. I didn’t want us to lose our momentum. So I seized him by the legs, pulled him closer to the bed (wheeled computer chair) and took him in my mouth. I’d been craving the taste of him ever since he started to get hard.

I don’t know why I didn’t stop, at some point, and ask that we switch over to penetrative sex. I think the fact that he stayed in his chair and offered me his dick rather than getting up and lying on the bed felt like a signal that he wanted a handjob/blowjob, not PIV.

I’ve rarely felt as confused and frustrated with a partner as I do with The Dandy. In other relationships, sex seemed to happen a lot more organically and/or my partners didn’t hesitate to tell me what they wanted or didn’t want. With The Dandy I’m frequently left feeling like “Wait, is he hinting that he wants to fuck me? I want to fuck him. But I can’t tell if this is a hint from him or not. I guess I’ll just ask him if he’ll have sex with me. Oooookay, he smiled but didn’t answer me. I guess he doesn’t want to but he’s afraid of hurting my feelings? Maybe I’ll just back off and wait for him to come to me.”

I’m a little stupid about “soft nos” (where you reject someone with an excuse or whatever but never actually say No I Do Not Want To Do The Thing). I tend to take the words at face value (“Oh, he said ‘maybe later’ and that was two hours ago, so maybe I’ll try again now!”). As a result, I think I’ve accidentally badgered The Dandy a bunch after he said (or thought he said) no to me. I didn’t realize what was up until way later. So now I’m really scared of looking like a badgering asshole again and I try to err on the side of caution. Thus, I gave The Dandy a blow job because he didn’t join me on the bed and I thought that might be a “no” to PIV.

I was hoping maybe he just wanted some mouth stuff as an aparatif. I was hoping he’d stop me at some point and say “Hey, let’s switch over to penetrative sex” – given that I’d been asking for it for several days, and all. But no, he came in my mouth.

The thing about my sexual dysfunction is that I still crave orgasms sometimes – in a vague, barely-there way – but in order to have them, it helps to be really turned on. I can’t go from 0 to 60 in thirty seconds like I used to. And fantasies aren’t that much of a turn-on anymore; it kinda has to be physical contact. So, my craving for sex with The Dandy was partly an interest in intimacy and bonding, yes, but it was also a matter of “I can barely orgasm anymore and I miss it so please apply your penis to my g-spot so I get aroused enough to actually function somewhat normally.”

The Dandy’s penis is interesting; it doesn’t immediately retract like a scared turtle after he comes, like with most guys. He’ll stay hard for a while. And occasionally he can come twice in a row – I can just continue a handjob past the first climax and onto a (much more time-consuming…) second one. After he came, I kept stimulating him and he kept on being hard so in a wild fit of hubris I said, “If you have more in the tank, how would you feel about some doggie style?”

He said okay and I said “Cool! Okay so, you rinse the remains of this baby-juice off you and I’ll go pee and we’ll reconvene here.” And he said okay again. But this whole interaction felt really…weird. Like he took a while to respond both times and he seemed like he had something on his mind. I think he didn’t want to have sex with me, or wasn’t actually capable, or wanted to be capable but wasn’t sure if he would be, and didn’t want to tell me. But he claims that he is able to say no to me, so in theory everything was fine, right?

In my enthusiasm/optimism, I’d hoped to come back from the bathroom to find him hard and putting on a condom. Instead he was lying under the covers. I stupidly thought “Oh, maybe he plans to give me some amount of foreplay this time.” I got into bed with him and he petted me a bit, but it felt like regular affection, not sexy affection. I ran my hands up and down his side and over his belly (he’s said that sometimes he needs foreplay, too) and I didn’t get any sense that he was receiving that as anything but regular affection – his breathing didn’t deepen or anything.

We lay there in each other’s arms. At first he was petting me and occasionally opening his eyes to look into mine, but eventually his hand slowed to a stop and his eyes stayed shut. I started saying stuff…I dunno what. Maybe mildly dirty talk at first but eventually I was straight-up making random chitchat just to try to make him respond to me – he was seeming quiet and preoccupied and it was freaking me the fuck out. Despite everything feeling so good between us lately I honestly started wondering if he was working up to breaking up with me or I dunno what. All of my other breakups have seemed kind of out of the blue, so thinking things are going well is no guarantee of anything. I even asked “Hey, what’s going through your mind?” and he still didn’t say anything.

Finally I said “Is it me or have the sex-vibes entirely left the room?”

He paused again (WHY WAS HE TAKING SO LONG TO SAY EVERYTHING ALL NIGHT) and finally said “I think I’m made of ‘done.'” He lifted the sheet to show me his teeny, flaccid, maybe-actually-trying-to-crawl-into-his-torso penis.

“Ah. Okay then.” I waited for him to offer to do something for me, given that I’ve told him ten thousand times that when I get him off it usually turns me on and I want a turn, and that I want him to initiate getting me off more often, and also I’d been telling him for days that I wanted sex. He did not, so finally (to demonstrate what he should’ve done, I guess? Even though I wasn’t actually much in the mood anymore by that point) I said “Well. We could get out the toys and I could just get fucked.”

“We can do that,” The Dandy said, pleasantly.

So we did our usual thing where I used my Hitachi and he wielded my dildo. Annoyingly, The Dandy rarely if ever positions himself in an efficient way to do this. He just keeps on lying next to me and reaches over and wiggles the base of the dildo. The angle means that it’s hard for him to thrust per se and the heel of his hand is in the way of my vibrator. I tried to get off, anyway. Usually, the combo of dildo-and-Hitachi does get me off pretty fast, even if the angles aren’t optimal. But the pervasive feeling that The Dandy didn’t want to be there was hampering me substantially (he had his eyes shut and even did that thing of forgetting to move the dildo – I had to slap his hand a few times to startle him back into movement. Dude you had one job.) Plus I needed more stimulation than I was getting.

Finally I said, “This would work better, I think, if you got up and knelt between my legs so you could really jackhammer me.” The Dandy gave me a baleful look and I added “…Please.”

He got up – with a grudging air – and positioned himself as I’d asked. The combo of harder pounding and his hand being out of my way so I could use the Hitachi better did get me there, finally.

But that whole evening stirred up a bunch of baggage for me. I’m pissed off that he doesn’t offer to get me off. I’m pissed off that he makes me guess at what’s on his mind instead of telling me. And wtf is with his reluctance to position himself in a convenient spot when he’s pleasuring me?!? Funfact: when I decide to give him a blow job, I let him remain comfortably seated/lying down and I orient myself accordingly. I don’t insist that I’m gonna stay parked right where I am and expect him to stand up and contort himself everywhichway to get his dick into my mouth. I just…the whole process of him helping me get off seems grudging the whole way through, despite him claiming that he likes making me orgasm. He just gives me such a strong vibe of “ugggggh, I guess I’ll participate in this with you. But I’m not gettin’ up.”




*A while back, we did PIV and then lay around talking after and ten minutes or so later he said “Soooo are we doing anything else or…?” which meant “do you wanna get off or can I go to sleep?” What I’ve told him I wanted is for him to always assume I’ll want to get off after penetration and automatically be like “Yay, your turn, tell me how I can help!” but this was at least…something. My sexual issues seem to be getting worse (possibly just with him) so I actually ended up declining orgasms but requesting some petting. He did do that.

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Chicks love assholes

The Dandy was home when I brought that latest piece of cougarbait over, btw. After the boy left, I lamented that I’d wanted to be into him but I just…wasn’t. The kid looked so great on paper. Why didn’t it work?

“He seemed kind of…bland,” The Dandy said. “I mean, does he even have any hobbies? Anything he’s passionate about?”

“Ooooh, that’s a good point,” I said. “He didn’t really have anything like that. All of his non-kink conversation was basically cat stories. And if I can just say, he wasn’t as interested in my art as I might have hoped. I make some cool shit, dammit. I want someone who’s excited about that!”

And I realized: I have a pattern of liking guys with a bit of an edge to them. Guys who are generally considerate and kind, but who will troll the shit out of people who deserve it. The key there, of course, is that we need to have the same idea of who deserves it. And the trolling has to be witty, not “you’re a big doodyhead!”

Recently, I was telling The Dandy about this guy on FetLife who had been consistently annoying me. He was a maledom with a lot to prove; he was so insecure that his username was a string of honourifics. Let’s call him MrReverendSir.

The Dandy said “Well, if he’s a reverend then doesn’t that mean the only ones he’s dominating are little boys?”

My jaw hit the floor. Then I started laughing. Then I wanted to fuck him. Oh, the meanness, it is delicious.

Another Dandy story: apparently in college he had a professor who would pretend not to hear one of his classmates’ questions, solely because the professor didn’t like this person.

So The Dandy started considerately “helping” the professor with his “hearing problem.” That one classmate would ask a question and professor would go “Yeah no I can’t hear you” and try to move on. And The Dandy would cheerfully bellow “HE SAID -” and repeat the question at the absolute top of his lungs, enunciating with precision. The Dandy has a big ol’ barrel chest. He can project his voice really fucking loudly. There is no possible way the professor could claim to have not heard him – so the professor had to answer the questions. 😀

The Pedant is also a catty bitch at people who have it coming. I can’t remember any specific zingers, but I know there have been some.

My favourite story about my ex-husband is that we were hanging out one time with his mom and one of her friends. The subject of veganism/vegetarianism came up somehow (ex and I were vegan at the time). His mom and her friend said animals are dumb so it’s no big deal if we eat them. Ex replied: “I guarantee you that the difference in intelligence between me and you two is at least as big as the difference between you and a cow. Does that mean I get to torture you to death?”

Ex was indeed a super-genius and his mom and her friends were…not, so I believe his statement was no exaggeration. But the audacity of calling someone stupid to their face! Especially your own mom! And what a brilliant way to make his point – make it personal. Ask her to take her “logic” to its inevitable conclusion. I loved it. In that moment I was thrilled to be his partner.

The 23yo I recently tried to date didn’t have that edge to him. And honestly he didn’t have the kind of quick-witted intelligence that turns my crank, either. So no wonder it was a bust.

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