Tag Archives: The Pedant

*Unf*

If you’ve been hanging out here for a while, you know that I was mono for entirely too big a portion of my life – I actually didn’t realize, for a long time, that any options existed besides “loving, mono relationship” and “fucking whoever I want but never being loved” so I chose the option with the love and regretfully gave up on sexual variety.

But now I’ve figured out that non-monogamous relationships are a thing and I have two long-term partners who both love and fuck me. And it’s amazing, but it still feels sort of perverse. I still feel like I’m getting away with something or like at some point my partners are gonna go “waaaaait a minute, why are we letting her see us both?!”

Non-monogamy is definitely an orientation, for me, same as being hetero is – but I think it’s also, somehow, one of my kinks. I mean, specifically the part where everyone I’m seeing knows exactly what’s up and is fine with it.

Over the years, my kinky thrill keeps getting pushed further and further, from “OMG I came home from a date with The Pedant and Minx is totally fine with it all” to “OMG I just had sex with The Pedant and The Dandy knows it and he still wants to take me out to dinner” to “OMG The Dandy just made dinner for me and the guy I’ve been making out with all afternoon and we’re all sitting around the table having a perfectly lovely conversation” to “OMG The Pedant is over and I can literally walk back and forth between him and The Dandy, hugging and kissing them while the other watches, and nobody bats an eye” to “OMG The Pedant and The Dandy are both petting me at the same time” to “OMG THE PEDANT AND THE DANDY JUST LET ME GROPE BOTH THEIR CROTCHES SIMULTANEOUSLY.”

On The Pedant’s last visit he spent two nights here and on both nights, he was absolutely passed out from the sex we’d just had but I was restless and couldn’t sleep. I was perversely tempted to go into The Dandy’s room and try my luck sleeping there. Also, the Dandy’s total acceptance of my relationship with The Pedant always fills me with adoration (and the delightfully kinky feeling of getting away with something) and I get all horny for him, so I would happily have done more than just sleep in his room. But I’m pretty sure The Pedant would be hurt by me sleeping elsewhere (and I know he’d feel like sex with The Dandy was some kind of breach of hygiene). And it would be kinda rude for me to do that, given that The Pedant was over visiting me; he should be my focus.

Still, though. I super love the idea of having full sexual access to two men right in my home.

So yesterday I asked The Dandy how he would have felt if I’d banged him while The Pedant was over. Like, banged the Pedant, left him asleep in my bed, and come right to The Dandy’s room for seconds.

He hesitated, wrinkling his nose. “Well…I would at least want some sort of cleanup to take place first.”

“So, if I had a shower…?”

“Yeah, I mean, probably.”

Oh my. *Fans self*

 

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Twinsies! :P

Seems like every time I see The Pedant, he vents to me about his live-in gf, Raver Chick. He seems to have some ongoing annoyances with her.

Also, as I’ve mentioned before, The Pedant seems to have suddenly stepped up his game with me emotionally – telling me I satisfy him like nobody else(!), dropping I-love-yous all over the place, etc. He even wistfully told me once that he could just as easily have moved in with me if I didn’t have cats (which he’s allergic to).

I haven’t told The Pedant about my little schism with The Dandy where I realized he’s never gonna give me some of the stuff I want. And I won’t tell him, probably, because the two of them are friends and it would be weird. I also have no plans to directly ask The Pedant if he’s disenchanted with Raver Chick but trying to work through it because he has nowhere else to live. But I suspect that the two of us are in fact going through roughly parallel things.

And I guess I also suspect that The Pedant is being all dewy-eyed over me lately because the grass is always greener on the other side, not because he thinks I’m inherently awesome. He had years to figure that out before Raver Chick came along, after all. I’m pretty sure this is a “Cowgirl doesn’t do this irritating thing that Raver Chick does! *Dreamy sigh*” kinda thing.

I mean…I guess that can still be a valid thing. The Pedant hasn’t had a ton of long term relationships so maybe it took moving in with Raver Chick for him to fully appreciate how lucky he’s been to have me all this time. Maybe it’s not that I only look good next to Raver Chick and if he meets some shiny new partner I’ll get back-burnered.

I’m glad The Pedant seems to be prioritizing me more highly than he used to. For a long time, any plans he made with me felt a little iffy, like if Raver Chick (or before her, OtherGirl) suddenly decided she wanted his company, he’d bail on me. He holds our plans firm, now. And he sees me more often than he used to.

But I find I can’t relax and enjoy all his mushy hyperbole – not really. Because I’m not sure I believe it fully. Does he love me, or does he love that I’m not Raver Chick?

He tells me all the time that he loves me, now. I say the words back, but I feel nothing. The Pedant is still the same person I’ve loved for the past five years or more, and if anything our relationship has gotten more fulfilling since my feelings kicked in, so I’m guessing this is my old defense mechanism in action: my heart going numb so that if The Pedant suddenly yoinks all this unexpected love of his away, it won’t hurt so much.

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Well, that’s out of the way.

I realized a while back that The Pedant always asks me to do a huge list of shit in preparation for our get-togethers, and all I’ve asked him to do is show up when he says he will and he hasn’t done that. Well actually one time I was more specific and asked him to pack a bag the night before so he won’t end up late because he can’t find his keys/spare underwear/whatever. He outright told me that packing a knapsack for the next day is a thing he associates with his job, so he’d resent doing it before a day off. Wow. Okay.

And then to top it all off, if I don’t get his giant list of stuff done, he’ll point out what I didn’t do and act confused/bemused, like it’s just so weird that I didn’t do it and he can’t imagine why not. Like, last time around, he wanted me to charge the vibrating cock ring we have so it was ready to be used on him, and I forgot or maybe just didn’t bother (the vibration isn’t nearly enough to stimulate me and I didn’t realize it stimulates him until he told me on this recent visit). And he suggested I use the ring on him and asked if it was charged and I said “Oh, no, sorry” and he was like “You didn’t charge it?!” all incredulous n shit.

This is all making me feel resentful. And now is not the ideal time to mention it, since he actually was more-or-less on time the past two visits, but he kind of drove the conversation in that general direction so fuck it. Here’s our text conversation:

Me: You, my love, are eye candy of the highest order. I don’t think there’s a single part of you I haven’t fetishized to one extent or another.

Pedant: Does that mean you’ll have the ring charged the next time I come over?

Me: That segue was a bit contrived but yes, if I can find the cord (and I’m pretty sure I know where it is) I’ll charge it.

Pedant: Another segue: they’ve changed my days off from the 12th and 13th to the 13th and 14th [this affects some plans we made].

Me: Mini-rant: are you aware that you generally give me eighty things to do to prepare for your visits (and then act sort of bemused when I don’t get every single one done) and the only thing I’ve asked you to do was pack your back the night before so you’ll be on time and you refused to do even that? It frustrates me.

Pedant: Fair point. I will make sure to pack for my visits in advance going forward.

Me: [thumbs-up emoticon] And the reason I don’t always have everything on your giant to-do list completed (aside from severe executive dysfunction) is that sitting there with everything all finished for the time you said you’d be there but then ending up waiting several hours for you to arrive is the worst and saddest feeling in the world.

Still me: Like…the literal saddest.

Also me: So: I try to politely ignore your lateness to whatever extent I’m able, since I suspect it’s also an executive dysfunction thing and yelling about it will only make you feel bad. But I henceforth expect you to politely roll with it when shit’s not done instead of going “you didn’t clean/charge/organize/pack the thing?!” with your eyebrow raised.

Pedant: fair enough.

Me: Excellent. Good talk. Ok so what am I changing on my calendar? are you coming on the 13th? The evening of the 12th?

Pedant: I can come on the evening of the 12th and stay until the evening of the 13th.

Me: Lovely. Cord found; ring charging.

Pedant: I’m looking forward to your using it to keep me hard while you concern yourself with your own pleasure.

 

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Domination

The Pedant often suggests things for us to do together in bed. Like even in the heat of the moment he’ll suggest things. And it irks me, although it probably shouldn’t.

I’m the dominant; I’m in charge. His suggestions don’t change any of this; I can and have replied to a suggestion of his with “No, we’re gonna do this other thing” and he’s never complained. And anyway I want him to tell me what he likes. Beyond the whole thing where we both should feel fulfilled in our relationship, there’s the fact that I’m a reaction junkie and my goal when we play is generally to get him to be as loud and abandoned as I possibly can. I need his feedback for this.

The problem – the petty, petty problem – is that his suggestions are often what I was going to do anyway, or else I had no specific plan and his idea seemed as good as any. And it irks me that to an outside observer it would look as though I was doing what The Pedant told me to.

It’s like when I was a kid and I got in an argument with some girl on the playground, and when I finally got fed up and stormed off she made a point of yelling “YEAH! YOU’D BETTER RUN!” loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. It made me wonder if anyone watching genuinely believed I was leaving because she’d told me to. It made me wonder if she believed I was leaving because she’d told me to.

Anyway, on this most recent visit we were getting all hot and heavy and The Pedant said “I’d like to get you off first so I can really focus on you. If you’d like to get your toy, I’ll suck on it; I know how you love to watch that.”

So I did and he did. And I am absolutely dazzled by how far our relationship has come, because years ago I broached the topic of him sucking my dildo and he absolutely recoiled. It’s not even a realistic dildo*; it’s purple and smooth, just a piece of silicone formed into a cylinder with a slight knob on one end and a flare on the other. It would be as random and benign as him having a drinking straw or a stick of celery in his mouth. But he acted as though he would catch Teh Ghey, so I backed down.

And then one day he offered to use his mouth to wet the dildo before inserting it (and I’m a bit grossed out by the idea of saliva being all up in my business but I said yes because I wanted to see him do it). And now on his most recent visit he offered to put on a show for me and I held the base of the dildo on my pubic bone as if it were my own dick and he pumped it in and out of his mouth a few times and then lovingly wrapped his lips around the head while making full eye contact with me before sliding down the shaft again OMG.

And it would turn me on even more to ask him “do you like sucking my cock?” or to tell him he’s my good little cocksucking slut but I’m afraid this will scare him off. I gotta hold still, metaphorically speaking, and let him come to me, like a squirrel I’m trying to feed from my hand. If I move too quickly, he’ll bolt. And he’s never referred to my dildo as anything but a “toy” – never a dick or a cock or even a dildo – so I think that speaks to where his head is at right now.

I wonder if he wants to feel like my shameless little slut, ultimately? Is that the end game, here, and it’s just taking him a while to get past all his toxic masculinity stuff and embrace it? Or is the faux-llatio simply coming from a place of wanting to please me and he wouldn’t kink on being told what an insatiable cocksucker he is for me, particularly? I assume the nature of his dirty talk will keep me clued in. When we first started fucking, he would request to be tied up but that was the extent of anything. Once he got more comfortable with me he started dirty-talking and “I love being your slave like this” kept coming up. Lately he’s been hitting the idea that I can “seduce him” into acts he’d never imagined before pretty hard. Perhaps the next step will be to name the outrageous acts; to marvel at the extremities I’ve taken him to. We’ll see.

 

*Even if it did look like a dick, it’s not one. It’s odourless, flavourless silicone. So who even cares? Would The Pedant refuse to eat a cake decorated to look like a house because he’s grossed out by the idea of having drywall and bricks in his mouth?

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:P

I think I forgot to mention this before, but the last time The Pedant was over, we were hanging out in the living room and The Dandy passed through on his way to the kitchen; as he was heading back out with snacks, I was like “Wait, wait, Dandy, c’mere…Pedant, Dandy, let me indulge a fantasy by groping both your junk at once.”

They rolled their eyes but they actually let me do it. I mean, no clothing was undone or moved, and I didn’t aim to grope them to the point of arousal or anything; The Dandy came within my arm’s reach and I cupped the crotch of his pants in one hand and the crotch of The Pedant’s pants in the other hand and held on for a couple of seconds and then giggled and thanked them. That’s it. But with how jumpy some men (esp. The Pedant) are about doing anything kinda sexual-ish near another dude, I did not expect them to let me.

Like, here’s the thing: I grew up thinking monogamy was the only relationship option available to me. I grew up on sitcoms where people flew into rages and broke off relationships over their partner kissing someone else or even just flirting with someone else, and it was portrayed as normal and justifiable. And even when I discovered nonmonogamy, I was solo-poly for the first bunch of years, and a big part of how I deal with being nonmonogamous is not thinking too much about my partners’ other partners. I’m not going “la la la, it’s not really happening” but I’m not in any huge rush to meet my metamours and watch my partners make out with them, either.

So it still blows my mind that I can live with my boyfriend and invite my other boy over and everyone gets along absolutely fine. I even make a point of going back and forth between The Pedant and The Dandy and smooching/hugging each of them in turn right in front of the other and nobody even blinks.

Oh, and another thing that happened, both during the last Pedant visit and this most recent one, was that the boys ended up co-petting me again. I didn’t even ask – they just got all embroiled in conversation again and I ended up between them on the couch and they started absent-mindedly stroking/massaging me while they talked.

It’s all so easy and nice. I feel like a housecat, wandering freely through the people in the apartment and soliciting attention that they give without reservation.

Also in this most recent Pedant visit: The Dandy came into the living room in just his bathrobe right as The Pedant got up from the couch to go to the kitchen. “Flash me!” I said to The Dandy. The Pedant said “I don’t need to see this” and quickened his pace and once he was behind The Dandy – not even fully in the next room – The Dandy did indeed open his robe for me. As I said, The Pedant was behind him and couldn’t see anything, but the fact remains that The Dandy’s cock was out in The Pedant’s presence. Things like this titillate me. Maybe I’m weird.

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Smooth criminal

Speaking of being discreet about The Pedant’s and my sex life…

A while back, The Dandy brought up for some reason that The Pedant definitely doesn’t seem like someone who would ever submit. “He sure doesn’t,” I agreed, cheerfully. The Pedant is kind of a loud rude asshole to most people and if you only knew him casually it would be very difficult to imagine him shutting up and doing what he’s told, like, ever. Also he has a bit of misogyny to him; he doesn’t realize he does, and deflects any time I call him out on it, but yeah. So you really wouldn’t expect him to let a woman boss him around.

Because of the aforementioned misogyny (and because it took him years to calm the fuck down, stop trying to top me, and admit that what he really wanted was to surrender), I assume The Pedant would be mortified if other people knew what we get up to in bed. Plus, I mean, it’s basic courtesy not to gossip about one’s partner’s sexual details with other people.* So when The Dandy speculated about The Pedant’s kinks or lack of them, I revealed nothing. It’s not his business.

I was longing to tell him, though, in probably about the same way that a serial killer longs to confess their crimes so the someone can finally appreciate the incredible things they’ve gotten away with. (This is actually a thing, apparently: serial killers who were nowhere near being caught but ended up spilling the beans just because it was driving them crazy that they’d pulled off this complicated, outrageous thing perfectly and nobody knew…)

But I think The Pedant “confessed” for me when he left that butt plug in the sink last time he was over. The Dandy hasn’t said anything about it (presumably out of a sense of discretion of his own) but he definitely used that bathroom while the item was in the sink and would have seen it, and he knows I’d never wear such a thing myself, so by process of deduction…

And there have been other tiny clues that The Pedant is at least bottoming to me, like me wanting to buy nitrile gloves right before The Pedant came over, or the sheer amount of shit I would pack when we’d spend the night in a hotel or guest suite, or me being super keen for The Dandy to help me put attach points on my new bedframe when he and The Pedant are the only men in my life right now and The Dandy doesn’t like bondage.

The Dandy never did get around to adding those attach points, btw, so I looped dog leashes around each corner of the bedframe, instead, and attached The Pedant’s wrist and ankle restraints to those. And since The Pedant felt free to leave his used butt plug lying in a common area of the apartment on that visit, I’ve decided that discretion must not be that important to him and it’ll be fine to leave the leashes where they are. Which saves me some time and energy. So that’s nice.

 

*Although I’ve told friends that The Dandy identifies as dominant without feeling like it was a scandalous or overly personal thing to share. I guess because a man being dominant isn’t generally considered weird, while a man being submissive is going against the grain.

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Prissiness vs privacy

When Mine and I were seeing each other, he’d always wash the sex toys after we were done. Which was a revelation to me because nobody I’d been with before that ever did and why the fuck were these guys benefiting from my toy collection and anal expertise and then just going home and leaving me with a sink full of stuff to clean? Why should I be motivated to get them off in all my delightfully freaky ways if I know I’m gonna end up with mildly disgusting chores to do afterward?

The Pedant is no exception. I’ve even brought up to him that I’d like him to wash the ass-toys when we’re done with them and he still hasn’t; he leaves them in the sink. He’s washed stuff that goes in my vag, but apparently dealing with trace amounts of shit is just too much for his delicate sensibilities to bear.*

As you all probably know, I live with The Dandy now. The Pedant came over recently for a weekend of sexual shenanigans and I was so very curious about how he’d handle the ass-toy issue. On one hand, The Pedant doesn’t seem like someone who’d want his dude-friend The Dandy knowing about his bottom/submissive tendencies. On the other hand, The Pedant has never ever deigned to wash an ass-toy even when I’ve directly asked him to. So what would he do?

He left the butt plug sitting in the bathroom sink.

So The Pedant would rather The Dandy infer that I’d been plugging that sweet, sweet ass than nick some gloves from the box in my bedroom and give the plug a wash so we could put it back in the drawer.

Wow.

 

*And that’s another thing: it speaks volumes to me that many of my ass-play partners identified as submissive – even, occasionally, to a point of claiming that women are superior to men – and yet these guys would relegate the cleaning of their shit to me.

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