Tag Archives: The Pedant


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

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

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

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

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

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


Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

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


Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

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


Pedant: Okay I’m finally here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

I need to find a middle ground.



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


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So I wrote to The Pedant:

Just for the record, my dream, for years now, has been to have a man who submits to me in bed but ALSO in other areas that make my life easier. A go-getter I can delegate things to (like planning outings) and he’ll present me with detailed options to choose from

I don’t presume to think that your movie-planning prowess is anything more than vanilla helpfulness.

But if you ever WANT to submit to me in a wider capacity than bedroom stuff, let me know. You would be so exactly what I want.

“So, basically, you want a house-husband,” The Pedant said. Asking for clarity about what exactly would be involved in submitting to me more, I guess. That bodes well.

I wrote another wee novel:

Well you can’t be THAT, given that you don’t live with me and I can’t support you…but elements of that, I guess, insofar as it’s possible. Reliably doing what I want, and doing so in the spirit of being in service to me.

In which “what I want” would mostly be minor fetching and carrying, making food, tech support, planning and organizing outings or other things. Maybe Googling shit for me sometimes.

And also of course all the sex. 😀

He hasn’t responded to that, and the conversation drifted off elsewhere. But that’s fine. I’m happy to have gotten my thoughts off my chest. He usually needs time to process relationshippy talk so I’ll just back off a while and see if he eventually approaches me to ask more about what I’ve said.

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The Pedant ended up utterly outdoing me for dirty talk the other night. His prose was descriptive and had rhythm and was just…hot. I could barely keep up. How long he’s had this skill sitting in his back pocket I don’t know. 😀

The slightly weird thing (and a big reason I felt I couldn’t keep up with him) is that I said some mushy thing about how lovely he is to play with and he said “Do you really enjoy using me that much?” and I said yeah, I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather collar (the convo started with me showing him a titanium eternity anklet online and saying I’d love to lock one onto him, remember). And it’s true, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather collar, because I don’t currently have anyone else who submits to me.

And he started up a sort of call-and-response rhythm of saying “Only me to do X and Y to?” and some of the things weren’t even D/s related – he was asking me if I wanted to touch only his nipples and stuff. And I mean I’m willing to get caught up in fantasy and hyperbole to a certain extent but I just started feeling uncomfortable. Like how far would this go? And would he start thinking I actually meant it and didn’t want to play with anyone else? If I then ended up meeting someone else who bottomed to me, and mentioning it to The Pedant, would he feel misled?

It was late at night anyway so I eventually just ended the conversation as gracefully as I could, saying I needed to get some sleep.

I didn’t think The Pedant was the type to eroticize being the only one to do whatever with me. I mean we’re both poly and living with other people. So this was…weird. It almost felt as though he was asking for reassurance or trying to get me to say that I’d only do D/s with him and nobody else or something. I dunno. I’m probably overthinking it.

His overall response to me sending him that link to the anklet did get me thinking, though: would he let me collar him? Maybe not an anklet per se, because that’s a bit too unconventional for The Pedant, I think, and really would probably not work under the kind of tight lace-up boots he usually wears. But I could see him liking the look of something like this titanium bracelet. And I really, really dig the idea of him having a reminder of me locked onto him all the time.

Something seems to have clicked over in The Pedant. I’m not just topping him anymore, and haven’t been for a while now. He’s actually into the idea of me genuinely having control and using him as I please; he focuses on my pleasure a lot more than he used to. And although we’ve only negotiated bedroom D/s, he does seem to try to impress me outside the bedroom, too, doing little things to make my life easier. Carrying my knapsack for me, paying for things for me. Lots of little gestures that just light me right up. Things he didn’t do for the first few years we were together.

And the things he’s said about feeling safe with me to explore these parts of himself just make me swoon. I guess I’d like to declare ownership over that small piece of his psyche. I’d like him to more formally declare himself mine. And, okay, I suppose I’m a bit jealous that he’s living with someone now, and want some sort of counterbalance, some evidence that he loves me, too, despite being less entangled with me life-wise.

Anyway. On a related note (or maybe not) he wants to take me to see the new Bladerunner movie on Friday and I asked him to do some recon on locations and times and I’d buy advance tickets to whatever he thought was best. The email he ended up sending me was…breathtakingly thorough. He sussed out the best location for our needs, showed me times, linked to where precisely to buy tickets online for each showing, linked me to supplementary materials I might want to watch ahead of time (the best version of the original movie, some short films made after that which take place in the same universe).

Now, it may well be that he was thorough like that just because he’s, well, pedantic. He’s always been anal retentive and detail oriented. But can I just say, my dream for years now has been to have a sub I can delegate things to and who will be extremely helpful and thorough, just like this. So I got his email and I was like “Holy shit, this boy is the sub I’ve been looking for all these years.”

And once again I’m wondering if he could come around to thinking of himself as that. Or if maybe he already does. When he does these acts of service, he is being nice to me or is he serving me? What goes in inside that gigantic melon head of his?


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Up and down

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

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

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

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

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

Guuuuuuh I’LL BE IN MY BUNK.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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Dinner (part 2 of the last Pedant visit)

Right, so The Pedant and I slept for a few hours and then wandered upstairs for dinner with The Dandy and Dandette.

It’s always hilarious when guys do the macho posturing thing with each other. The Pedant and The Dandy greeted each other curtly, in voices slightly louder and an octave lower than usual. I half expected them to start pulling empty beer cans out of thin air and crushing them against their foreheads while yelling “BOO-ya!” at each other. Curiously, though, The Dandy had opted to come to the dinner table in his blue brocade pajamas, which somewhat undercut his manly, aloof facade.

In case any of you have forgotten, the two of them do know each other. Maybe friends is the wrong word, but they met years and years ago in the goth nightclub/concert scene and are acquaintances. And honestly it’s not just The Pedant who is pedantic; the first night I met the two of them, we headed home on the same bus and the two of them got into animated chitchat about Military Uniforms Through the Ages or similar. They both know a lot of esoteric things and like to talk about them at length.

Dandette brought out candied carrots, risotto, and a pork roast. The Dandy took one look at the slices of pork and said they were too pink for his taste. Dandette said she knew he likes his meat well-done and she orchestrated it so some of the roast was pink but some was not. The Dandy still looked skeptical (while not even looking through the slices of meat to find the well-done ones) and Dandette wearily said “Fine, I’ll just fry yours up until it’s more cooked.”

I’d taken some pork off the platter immediately but Dandette whipped the rest of it off to the kitchen to re-cook, leaving The Pedant awkwardly meatless. I could hear her muttering to herself that she couldn’t do anything right – a mood she gets in sometimes. When she brought the meat back out, she excused herself and left the apartment. I figured she was having an anxiety attack and needed to be alone to compose herself; she hates having a fuss made when she’s like that, so I pretended like nothing was happening. The Pedant either had the same instinct or is just an insensitive asshole because he also ignored it – didn’t ask where Dandette had gone or anything. The two of them didn’t even try to leave some food for her to eat when she came back – they devoured it all.

When Dandette came back, the two guys were deep in conversation about politics and I was zoned out. She rolled her eyes and made some remark to me like “Ugh, there they go.” “Yup,” I said. “At this point I’m just letting their voices wash over me and thinking about how pretty they both are.” Neither man heard any of that at all, or acknowledged that Dandette had returned.

Just as an aside: I definitely do consider myself poly. I like variety and I like freedom and I’m attracted to lots of different physical types. But when I’m into someone and find him attractive, I just obsesssssssss on his physicality. Like, stare and memorize every single feature of his face and body and find beauty in it all. It can be a little bit hard to even find someone else attractive when I’m in full-on obsesso-mode with a guy. Having both my main partners in the same room together was…you know that joke about putting a chameleon on something plaid? The implication that the chameleon will probably get overstimulated by trying to turn himself plaid, and explode? Kinda how I felt. The Dandy and The Pedant are both six-foot-ish white guys with brown hair and blue eyes – and, by complete coincidence, they also each have shoulder-length hair with an undercut and a mustache/beard (The Dandy didn’t have that hairdo back when we first met, and actually only acquired the facial hair after I dated him the first time around; undercuts and facial hair aren’t specifically a “thing” for me), but their bodies and facial structures are quite different. So as they yapped away about how best to fix our city’s public transit system, I kept looking from one to the other and trying to get my head around how they could each – at different times – be the absolute epitome of beauty to me, and yet they look so very different. I’d stare at The Pedant long enough to get starstruck by his pretty, and then look over at The Dandy and his face would look weird for a minute because it was Not-Pedant, but then I’d acclimate and The Pedant would look weird to me because Not-Dandy. Yes, I know I’m strange.

Anyway. Dandette told me that she guessed she just couldn’t do anything right that day, meaning the thing with the meat. Her tone was a bit histrionic – definitely she was depressed/anxious and trying to wallow in mean thoughts about herself – but I’ve seen her go through low patches like this before that passed without incident; I had no idea she would end up wanting to commit suicide later that night. I reassured her that The Dandy was just being dumb – she’d clearly told him that she had accommodated his tastes and he’d ignored this. And anyway The Pedant and I were totally on board with the medium-rare roast, and had very much enjoyed the carrots and rice, too. The Dandy had eaten everything on his plate and then some, in the end, too, so really the meal was a success. I’d hoped that I could logic her out of her anxiety. Obviously not.

At some point, Dandette broke through the guys’ wall of oration and we all hung out and talked about stuff that wasn’t politics. Then she went out for a smoke and during that time I made a dinosaur joke or something and that got the guys speechifying to each other about esoteric dinosaur facts. Dandette returned and looked at me like “again with the ridiculous dissertations?” and I was like “Yeah I think I brought this one on myself.”

Dandette eventually got the conversation to expand and accommodate all of us again. She got onto a whole tangent about her childhood, including mentioning having been raped as a kid and other things that seemed inappropriate to discuss with someone she’d only met once before, briefly, and couldn’t remember until tonight. She was drinking wine and it slowly occurred to me that she was pretty shitfaced (I’m slow on the uptake sometimes). She kept playfully humping my ass, trying to hump The Dandy’s ass and he sidestepped her, making comments that The Pedant might as well fuck her too because she and I already share one guy anyway so why not share all of them, making comments that she wishes I were into chicks so she and The Dandy and I could be a full triad instead of a somewhat ambiguous V. Pretty sure she was acting out because her other boyfriend recently broke up with her. In fact as The Pedant and I said our goodbyes and went back to our suite, Dandette outright told me “he’s cute and I’m jealous. Go have all the sex.”





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