It'll be okay...

GV8 took me out to the Hard Rock Cafe at Universal City Walk on Sunday.

This is something that has been missing from my Los Angeles experience, as I have yet to go into anything Hard Rock related aside from the casino in Vegas.

We wandered around the City Walk, waiting for a table to open up, GV8 humoring me as I pranced through the sock store they have there, looking at all the cute knee-highs and various leggings and fishnets.

Mid-prance, we were shouted at and he introduced me to two young boys... well, young as in they were in the 22-23 range. You know, nearly two to three years younger than me. It was his nephew and a friend.

It made me wonder what his family thinks of this. Probably not much, with the life-style he's had that they're all aware of in some form or another. Made me wonder what his nephew was thinking as GV8 rested his hand on my waist, a fellow college-student, youth of America.

From what I can tell, the previous girlfriends he has had (not that I'm his girlfriend at the moment) have been in his general age range, give or take seven to ten years. When he sleeps with people in my age range and younger, it seems to be a one or two time thing and he's done, maybe the occasional booty call off and on.

He's says that, essentially, younger girls don't know how to fuck. And he gets sick of it. I know I surprised him with my... er... "talents". When I took him home that first night, he probably thought he was going to get a one-night stand out of the deal.

I'm just full of suprises.

After bidding his nephew adieu, we managed to snag seats at Hard Rock. Wasn't too busy, but the front desk people were not organized at all.

I mentioned to him the realization I posted on here, how we've been together almost five months (and the only reason I know this is because he was making fun of me for not remembering the date we met and I had to go look up the date of the event online) and I've yet to get bored, yet to consider sex a chore, yet to not enjoy myself.

It's a combination of things, most of which I mentioned to him, one which I didn't.

Sex with him is... amazing. It's not mind-blowing (only Riot of Tattoos has fallen into that category), but it is good. He's talented, he's educated, and he pays attention... but never in a submissive way.

But what I realized was the most influential factor is that he really doesn't care if he orgasms. He is the only partner that I've ever had that really, truly doesn't care if he gets off. He enjoys sex for the pleasure, for the touch. If he wants to get off, he says, he'll just masturbate. The point of having sex with another person is to enjoy them.

This man is perfectly content stopping at the end of a three hour session where we have been all over the place, tearing up the bed, and go get food... without ever orgasming. He doesn't say a word. It doesn't even cross his mind.

Sex, with him, doesn't go into that realm of "oh, we're having fun, fun, fun, and now I have to do this particular rhythm or motion for this set amount of time so he can get off". Blowjobs do not go into that part I hate where he's in my mouth for hours and I'm just happy as a little kid at the Disneyland that is his crotch and suddenly I have to spend x-amount of minutes with my lips clenched and my tongue doing the same repetitive motion as always that ends up killing my jaw muscles.

There's no pressure to perform. There's no pleading looks if I tell him my mouth is hurting or I'm wiped. There's no begging of, "Almost there, please baby..!"

When I want to stop, we stop.

And because of that, I almost never want to stop.

This is the first man that has truly believed in the sentiment: "It's not about the orgasm."

I've had many men tell me that they agree with that idea... but then their actions don't line up.

And I hate it so much when my partners lose control, start begging, start panting like mindless dogs in heat, when sex stops being about pleasure and starts being about that one brief moment they're striving for. Orgasm is such a tiny, insignificant part of it. Seeing what you can do to make your partner feel good, to make yourself feel good, the taste of different parts of the body covered in sweat, in nails going down your back or the inside of your thigh, teeth in your shoulder, hair across the chest, angles, contractions...

I feel like I've finally found a good lover.

Like a veil has been ripped off of my eyes and now I know what it's actually like to be with someone who enjoys all the moments of sex, not just the end, so uncaring about the end.

I think he's the only man I have any true respect for on a sexual level.

And I can't believe that I actually said that.

That any man would ever be able to live up to my expectations.

Not of performance, but of philosophy.

Of control and values.

I can't stop wanting him whenever he's around. Because he has perfect control. He has perfect control that rivals, possibly exceeds, mine.

What I did not tell him was that one of the reasons that I continue to desire him is that he keeps me on edge. In our relationship, he's perfectly dominant, perfectly alpha. Not asshole-alpha, but just confident, calm, controlling alpha. He doesn't let me cling, he doesn't let me whine, doesn't let me beg. Doesn't let me know exactly where he stands.

He leaves me doubting, leaves me wondering, leaves me constantly wanting to impress him, to prove myself to him, to please him.

It's perfect game. He balances between concern/caring and ambiguity, possibly without even knowing he does it. Not willing to commit, but open to it "sometime in the future" if things "go that way".

Without reading so many of the PUA blogs, especially The Fairer Sex which, while not only one of my favorite blogs, is a significantly more realistic than some I could name, I would never have recognized this, never been able to manage things as much as I have been able to.

Not that I'm doing a lot of managing.

But I am able to identify his actions and control my reactions.

And I realized yesterday that this constant low-level anxiety he keeps me in, with the spikes of happiness from his acknowledgement and care, is allowing me to learn how to deal with my regular anxiety that I get whenever I meet someone new that I'd be willing to actually date.

I'm getting able to manage it.

The worry, the wondering, the self-doubt.

He's slowly burning out my adrenal glands, getting me used to it, getting me to cope with it. Getting me to believe in myself, to be confident in myself, whether or not he stays.

This is a major breakthrough for me. This is something I've always had a problem with, as much as I hate to admit it.

...he might help me fix this part of myself.

I wonder if he even knows it.