The Australian

As I drove home from Virginia with my brother, I texted back and forth with The Australian. He was cocky yet sweet in his delivery of every word he texted. I like the fine line of flirty banter and sarcastic undertone. We were planning our first date. He suggested skating at the ice ribbon downtown Chicago where we had bets on if he would fall or not because he’s Australian and has very little winter experience. Winner of the bet gets a kiss from the loser.

As I got closer and closer to Chicago, he insisted I come and cuddle with him in his bed at 5am (my ETA). I declined. I needed real sleep in my own bed and I knew that he and I wouldn’t be sleeping much, plus I couldn’t climb into bed with a guy I’ve never met before. I resisted and told him I’d be free by 6pm.

We made plans to check out the ice ribbon downtown, the Australian invited his two of his roommates and his roommate’s date and the four of them picked me up around 6:30 and we made our way to the ice ribbon. Well, once we got there, they were no longer renting skates, plus there was a wait so the game plan changed.

The Australian invited me back to his place to watch a movie. Usually I wouldn’t go to a guy’s place without a full date first, but he was sweet, we’ve already talked for hours on end the past several days, plus in the 45 minutes of driving and walking around the park we seemed to vibe well. I accepted the invitation and we made our way back to his place, but first stopped at mine so he and I could get in my car so the other three could go to their other plans.

Once back at his place, we settled in his room, put on a movie and chatted throughout, laughing, and having a really good time. He and I meshed well quick. It felt natural laying in his bed with him, his arm around me, cuddling and holding me. It wasn’t until the very end of the movie that he tried to kiss me. It was sensual and sweet. As the credits to the movie ended and the room grew silent, I told him to put something else on.

During our texting banter earlier in the week, I made a joke about how I base my life off One Tree Hill and Dawson’s Creek, two show’s I’ve only seen a few episode of each. He instantly jumped at that and told me he loves One Tree Hill. I told him I was only joking, but he was absolutely serious. In this moment of silence after the movie when I told him to put something else on, his brilliant idea was to put on One Tree Hill, try to get me hooked before he left for Australia.

Hardly past the intro credits, we were back to kissing and the show became just background noise. As the kissing progressed and became more heated, I had to stop him and tell him I couldn’t fuck him or get eaten at the moment, I just got my Vertical Clitoral Hood pierced last week and it was still healing.

I could have fucked him… but I put that restraint up because as much as I wanted to, I also just feel more comfortable letting my piercings heal and avoid sex especially with a new partner during that time. He shook his head and told me he will just have to tease me all night then. A full night of endless foreplay. It was super hot. It was almost like reliving high school, the period where you’re still a virgin and making out and rubbing all over each other’s bodies got you beyond sexually charged. That’s the kind of extended foreplay most guys lack and The Australian was all for it, even without any sex in the end.

A few more hours passed of hanging out and talking and making out and laying naked with each other. It was nice to be this comfortable with someone I just met. As 4am hit, I realized that there was no way I’d get any sleep if I stayed at his place, we would have easily stayed up kissing and talking all night. I was exhausted and had work the next day. I told him I should leave, he walked me to my car, it was raining, he put his coat on my shoulders although I was already wearing one. He asked if he could see me tomorrow; it was his last day before he left for Australia for three months. I agreed.

The next day, he came over to my place to watch more One Tree Hill, why not? He got his teen drama with basketball, I got Chad Michael Murray. We made out some, but this time, he insisted we actually watch it. He told me he was going to quiz me after and I would have to pass the test if I wanted him to keep kissing me. It was cute. Not many guys I’ve seen over the past few years were capable of sitting through an entire movie or TV show in bed without making a move. We laid there cuddling, talking some, but watching the show. At the end of the episode, he quizzed me, but I failed the test. The questions were very specific so no kisses for me.

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All the kissing and teasing was in his hands, and he loved denying me the pleasure. We watched another episode, this time I was focussed. I wouldn’t let him distract me. I was determined to ace the test. As the second episode finished, he quizzed me again. This time I got 100%, passed with flying colors and the kissing and teasing was on.

As the kissing and teasing progressed, I contemplated fucking him. I really wanted to, but something still held me back. The piercing, maybe. The idea he was leaving the next day for Australia, possibly. Whatever it was, I resisted no matter how sexually charged I became.

There was a moment we paused and caught our breath from all the kissing and foreplay. He suggested a massage. I accepted and let him rub his hands all over my back as I fully relaxed. As he finished up, he kissed me, I turned around, and reached down to his cock. He looked at me in anticipation.

I pushed him over, and had him sit on the edge of the bed and kneeled before him, slowly taking my time kissing down his body and making my way to kissing the just the tip. I teased him and licked up and down and then as I started to take him into my mouth, he thrusted. He is that guy, the guy that will try to mouth fuck you. I let it slide for a little bit as it wasn’t too bad to start, but then as the blowjob continued, he grabbed my head and literally face-fucked me fast and hard making me gag. I stopped him, told him to slow the fuck down, if he wanted me to blow him I needed to breath and not feel like I was a fuck toy.

He apologized. He said he was just excited. I got back to blowing him, but was pretty turned off at that point and he still tried to thrust some, but not as aggressively. Ugh, total turn off. Why do guys like face-fucking?

He came on my tits. I wiped them off, then we laid back in my bed cuddling and kissing and talking some more. Around 4am as we both started to drift off, he got up and said he should leave because he still had more packing to do and errands to run before his flight tomorrow afternoon. I walked him to the front door and we said our good-byes and he promised to keep in touch.

Face-fucking aside, I did like him. He was cute, sweet, funny, but he was about to be living on the opposite side of the world for three months. I’ve only known the guy two days. I wanted to trust that we would stay in touch, but I also don’t believe in long distance relationships. Fuck! This is gonna be a long three months… What did I get myself in to?

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

I’m sorry, not sorry, always sorry…. shit

I know I’ve been a bad girl and haven’t posted in forever until last night’s No Tinder, Two Tinder Dates. I’m sorry, not sorry, always sorry…. shit. Life just kind of happened and there was a lot of ups and downs and I think it’s all finally leveling out. I’m gonna do my best to get you all caught up, I’ve got a list of about 20 posts to come, so brace yourself. If they seem lacking at all, it’s because I’ve got a lot of ground to cover and may paraphrase for the next several posts, I want to catch you up and that’s the easiest way to do it. However, I may revisit and update posts later to add some juicy details. Stay tuned…

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

No Tinder, Two Tinder Dates

Shortly after Letting Go, I got my Vertical Clitoral Hood repierced. Neighbor Boy missed his small window for anal sex, at least for 2-4 weeks while my VCH was healing. I refused him anal sex without oral sex first, and oral was off the table while my piercing was healing. We still fucked, but less than usual due to my healing piercing.

This worked just fine. My friend Ana was in town for a week, then it was Thanksgiving, so not much time to fuck anyways. On one of the last days before I left for Thanksgiving with the family, Ana and I went to breakfast and she swiped away on Tinder. Ana isn’t on the market per se, she has a boyfriend, but still enjoys swiping through Tinder. She uses it to meet potential models for photoshoots, find fun things to do whenever she’s traveling, meet new friends, and the occasional side piece for her open relationship.


While we were eating, we were talking and I was joking about how my ideal guy would either be a chef or a massage therapist. Moments later she right swiped a chef and matched. “Want me to give him your number?” She asked. I laughed, agreed, and then she said she would give it to him after chatting with him some.

Later that night, I got a text from my brother. He needed me. The boy he used to date that he’s been talking to again was supposed to join us for Thanksgiving, but the boy canceled. My brother was devastated. While I parked by the bar to meet up with my brother, I saw the name “Alex” flash across my notification bar on my phone. I opened the snap, there was nothing significant, just some people hanging out. No one I recognized. Kind of weird for Alex to send it to me. I just shrugged it off and moved on. I went into the bar and hung out with my brother to let him vent over a few drinks.

I was driving, so I only had one while he ordered a couple rounds of shots. He had already been drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get fully drunk. Once it seemed like he was too drunk to get home, I offered to drive him and his friend Mel to his apartment. When we got to my car, the name “Alex” flashed across my screen again, I opened it just before I started driving them home. Same thing, some random people hanging out. No one I knew or cared about.

Once I dropped my brother and his friend off, I looked through my friends’ snap stories and saw my friend Alex… but his full name was listed just below the other “Alex.” Who the fuck is this “Alex” that’s been sending me snaps? I looked at his story and a few snaps in, I heard his voice, he’s Australian. I figured it out. He and I matched a year earlier on Tinder but never exchanged phone numbers, but did exchange snapchats. Nothing ever came from it then, but he decided to come out of the woodworks for some reason. I let it go for now. It was late, I was tired, I wasn’t looking to start snapping him back yet.

The next day, my family and I were off on our road trip to Virginia for Thanksgiving. I wasn’t intending on filling the long weekend with boys, but somehow it just happened that way, at least talking to boys all weekend. First, The Chef began to text me. This was a weird setup being that he matched my friend Ana and had no clue who I was, so first thing first, he asked for photos. I sent him a few, he sent a few back. We got texting, very basic “What do you do for fun?” “What are you looking for?” “Are you originally from Chicago?” Etc. The texts were fine. Nothing exciting, but he was cute and met my chef requirements.

Later, my family was mostly calling it a night and I was intending on doing the same. That’s when The Australian sent me another snap, this time a selfie with a Happy Thanksgiving sticker. This is the first he revealed himself. Finally, a face to refresh my memory of this tinder match a bit more. Up until this point, I haven’t responded to any snaps he’s sent the past few days. This one though finally prompted a response; a selfie and “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.” He responded with heart eyes and the flirting was on. We messaged back and forth continuously for the next few hours. As I realized that it was nearly 3am and we have been snapping for about four hours, I wrapped up the conversation and gave him my number telling him to text me sometime if he wants to continue this conversation.

The next morning, I woke up to a “Good morning” text from The Australian and the texting was on. The next few days of Thanksgiving break he and I texted basically non-stop. During this time, I hardly heard from The Chef, which was fine, I wasn’t fully into him which was unfortunate because he met my chef requirement. As the week wrapped up, I was more and more excited about The Australian and nearly forgot about The Chef, but once I was headed home, both asked to set up dates, I accepted both. I had to still give The Chef a chance because Ana was excited about him, although I was really only interested in The Australian.

The Chef was easy, he asked for a date and time and that was it. The Australian and I have already formed a strong dialogue with extremely flirty banter and even inside jokes… he wanted to see me the second I got home, but that was when the catch was revealed, he was leaving to go back to Australia for three months two days after I got home. Now I’ve become conflicted; The Australian seemed super sweet and genuine and really wanted to meet me, but then if I meet him there’s already a pre-conceived end or at least a pause while he was back in Australia.

Is it worth meeting someone of romantic interest (not just sexual interest) if you know you would only have two days together? Is two days enough to build any type of foundation to keep us in touch while he’s gone for three months? Is it worth it? I’ve told myself I would never do long distance relationships, but now I’m being faced with a guy who will be living on the other side of the world for three months. Shit. I reluctantly/excitedly agreed to meet The Australian.

I’ve set up two tinder date for when I got back without having to sign onto or swipe on tinder in months. Funny how that shit works out.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

Letting Go

Shortly after I bought my njoy butt plug (See Baby Steps to Build Trust), I got The Perfect Triangle… piercing which was not so perfect. I had 8-10 weeks to heal. That meant 8-10 weeks of no oral sex, and being extra cautious of my new piercing. During this time, Neighbor Boy insisted on using the plug regularly. If I was blowing him, he’d tell me to “Grab the plug.” If we were fucking, “Grab the plug.” If I we were taking out my vibes, “Grab the plug.” If we were sexting, he’d tell me to get out my favorite vibe and “Grab the plug.” He didn’t quite push for anal, but he was eager to get me into the sensation and the idea of anal.

Almost 8 weeks of this and it was working. I was really getting into the plug so much so that I started using it on my own time as well. Sometimes, I would get wet and worked up just thinking about it. I craved the full feeling the weighted plug gave me. As 8 weeks came to a wrap, I started to bring up anal to Neighbor Boy, telling him we should try it when my piercing is healed.

There was only a short window of time anal was going to happen. I wanted my triangle to be healed, but shortly after my triangle was healed, I was getting my VCH repierced. Having oral sex on the table pre-anal was important to me. I wanted to make sure I was fully satisfied and at ease before letting him penetrate my ass.

It was late November. We were messaging as per usual, probably even sexting some, almost like our foreplay before we were supposed to hang out that evening. I brought up that we should try anal that night. He was excited, but told me he expects me to have my plug in and vibe going before he got there so I was extra worked up already.

Although I was excited, I was also anxious about the situation and him telling me to get myself ready before he got there was a huge turn off and quite aggravating. Him telling me to start playing with myself before he comes to fuck me can usually be hot, but this time, because it was to prep for anal, it was more upsetting than a turn on.

I told him I wanted him to come eat me and crank up the foreplay and ease me into it. I explained to him I’ve had a bad experience with anal before (kind of alluding to what happened without directly saying I was raped by Roid Douche yet) and that him helping me be comfortable and relaxed beforehand would be very important.

Well… this conversation quickly went south. I was getting more and more anxious and upset and kept pushing what I wanted and he got frustrated and said that “It’s starting to sound like work and I’m not really feeling it for tonight anymore.” Which of course pushed me over the edge and the night was canceled, at least for the moment.

Because of this, I met up with my gay hubby. We went and got coffee and I vented. The more I vented, the more I realized how stupid the argument was. Yes, he was being an asshole, but my anxiety and frustration wasn’t fully explained to him. I was basically freaking out and he (unaware of what actually happened to me) was responding poorly to my unexplained pushiness.

It was an unseasonably warm November day for Chicago. Although anal was off the table, I texted him to say we should take advantage of the nice weather and fuck on the roof because it was probably our last opportunity before Spring. We put our anal argument on pause to talk more about it later and agreed to finally have the roof sex we’ve been talking about since day one.

When he came up, I grabbed a condom and we went straight up to the roof. I locked the roof door behind us, a cautionary measure taken to buy us a little time if someone tried to come up. After some brief making out, he told me to turn around, lift my dress, drop my panties, and bend over on the edge of the roof. I complied. He kissed my inner thighs and made his way to my pussy with his tongue, teasing me, getting me worked up, just barely tasting me.

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Right when I thought he’d lick my clit, he stood up, dropped his pants, and put the condom on. He started out slowly inserting his dick little by little, making me want to push my hips back into his. With every thrust he went a little deeper and a little quicker until he was fucking me at that perfect pace. As he fucked me, I looked over the ledge, my heart racing, partially because a slight fear of heights, partially because the adrenaline rushing thinking about how anyone could look up from the street and see me bent over the ledge.

After a few minutes of this rush, he pulled out, laid on the roof and told me to ride him. I listened, straddled him, and rode his cock. He finished, I didn’t. I kissed him softly, then stood up and put my panties back on. He took the condom off and put on his pants. As we walked back inside and headed down the back stairs, he tied up the condom, and shoved it in a pocket of the drooping ceiling. I didn’t realize this until we got back to my room and he told me.

Once back in my room, after he divulged the condom ceiling information and I scolded him, I told him a little more about Roid Douche, I didn’t go into detail, but gave him enough to help him understand why I was upset about our earlier anal discussion. He told me he understood and wants me to be comfortable and wants to make sure it’s something I enjoy.

I want to trust him. I want to be able to get over this fear I have. I want to let go of the past. I want to move on.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Baby Steps to Build Trust

Since Roid Douche, anal sex was off the table. I couldn’t bring myself to be comfortable with the idea of letting any guy penetrate my ass again. It took a lot of time and trust for me to even allow any light anal play from my next serious boyfriend, The Man Child (who I dated for six years). In those six years, he asked about anal from time to time because it was something he wanted to try with me, and I kept turning him down. He’d ask why I didn’t want to try it, I explained I’ve tried it before with Roid Douche, but didn’t like it. I didn’t inform him of the rape at that time.

Over the first few years of dating, as The Man Child tried to ease me into the idea by incorporating light anal play from time to time into our sex, he brought it up again, asking if anal sex would ever be on the table. I then explained what had happened with Roid Douche. We had a lengthy conversation that involved me crying about it, him consoling me, and him saying that he’d kick Roid Douche’s ass if he ever came across him. He also threw out there that if anal sex was ever something I would want to try again, he’d obviously be down, but understood why I haven’t wanted to all these years so far.

The Man Child stopped asking about anal since I told him about what happened with Roid Douche, but he still tried to incorporate anal play in our sex. I knew he was secretly hoping he could get me interested in anal. I enjoyed a finger and some ass eating every once in a while, but I was unsure if I was capable of enjoying a cock. I was conflicted. I felt some sort of pleasure from the stimulation of anal play, but I got anxiety thinking about anal sex. I wanted to try it again, but I also didn’t want to relive my experience.

Eventually, probably about four years into dating The Man Child, almost five years after the Roid Douche incident, I told The Man Child I wanted to try anal. He was ecstatic. He did everything right. He incorporated lots of foreplay and oral and warmed me up for anal with some analingus and fingering my ass. He got the lube out and prepped my ass and his dick. He told me he’d go extra slow and all I needed to do was relax.

He got his dick in about an inch and my anxiety kicked in, I started to clench my ass and it started to hurt, and I freaked out, and told him to stop. I teared up and shut down. The Man Child was a bit frustrated, but understanding of the circumstances. He held me, and comforted me, and tried to ease my anxieties. We tried one more time since then, but same thing happened. I couldn’t go through with it and he was ok with not trying anal ever again.

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After I broke up with The Man Child, almost three years ago now, I have slept with a lot of guys. Many guys have asked about anal, I tell them it’s not happening because I’ve tried and don’t like it. Every once in a while, a guy will slip a finger in or try to lick my ass and if I show any amount of enjoyment, they push for anal sex. I refrained from telling them what had happened with Roid Douche, but I explain to them that licking and fingering an ass is completely different than having a dick fuck your ass. I say something like, “A finger is much smaller than your dick, I’m ok with and enjoy a finger from time to time, but a dick is a no go. I’ve tried it and don’t like it.” And some of them push it and some of them let it go, but I stayed consistent with my word and wasn’t trying it again.

About a year ago, there was a moment of pure bliss I felt when a guy was eating my pussy and fingering my ass and vagina at the same time. The orgasm was intense and I wanted to recreate that feeling. I bought a small vibe for my ass, not much thicker than a finger, and began incorporating that into my masturbation. Shortly after that, I bought some gradual anal beads, the largest bead was about two fingers thick, and played with those by myself and introduced them with some guys to add to our toy fun.

And then Neighbor Boy came along. He had a good amount of persistence when discussing what is okay under our terms of sexual agreement. He’d push for cumming in my mouth and no condom use, both no goes. He pushed for photos and video, shot down. He pushed for anal, I turned him down. I explained to him that a lot of those things are not for guys I’m just fucking. I have to trust someone before I allow for them to cum in my mouth or go condomless, get photos or video, or before we could even put anal on the table. He then asked how he could build that trust with me. I told him it would take time, communication, and also an eagerness to please me extra in the bedroom.

In those early months of our arrangement, we talked most days and had lengthy conversations about sex, our likes and dislikes, our experiences, our desires, and we communicated when we’re sleeping with other people. We were 100% honest and upfront to one another. He made it a point every time we fucked to try to make sure I was pleased with our sex and we would have discussions usually the day after about it, he’d ask what I enjoyed about it and if there was anything he could have done differently. He took my directions and our sex kept getting better and better.

Over those months, he worked for it. He was eager to build that trust with me so he could get to cum in my mouth, get photos and video, and get anal sex. He was doing a pretty damn good job at it too. The more eager he was to please me and the more effort he put in, the more eager I was to please back. I let him cum in my mouth; something very few guys get to do because I have an aversion to cum. I sent him photos from time to time; I don’t send nudes to most guys, another Roid Douche story behind that one. And then anal… well he still wasn’t getting anal.

We discussed anal sex time and time again, and I told him I’ve tried forever ago but wasn’t into it, but I didn’t tell him about Roid Douche. He then brought up the anal beads and how I like those, and I explained that those are still smaller than a cock, so it wasn’t quite the same still. He kept telling me how he’d make sure I was enjoying it, and I wanted to try, but I still had this intense hesitation.

That’s when I decided to order a large Njoy butt plug. Larger circumference than the anal beads, but still smaller than his dick girth, it would be a good stepping stone to add to our sex to get me more at ease with anal. When it arrived, I kind of got giddy. It was a new toy to play with and I was excited to try it out. Neighbor Boy and I were already planning on hanging out that evening, so I told him I had a surprise for him. When he came up that evening, I unboxed the shiny new toy. I was turned on just by the idea of trying it out.

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Keeping it bed side, he got me warmed up. We made out, he worked his way down my neck to my nipples, to my clit with his tongue. He ate me a good while and got my vibe out, getting me extra worked up, and when I was nice and soaking wet, he grabbed the plug. Lubing it up, he inserted it slowly into my ass. A slight tinge of pain hit me, but after the head was inserted, it was all pleasure. He went back to eating me and playing with the butt plug.

I was really enjoying the feeling of the butt plug, but at the same time, I kept getting in my head too much. The pleasure was great, but it was difficult to fully let loose. I repositioned myself and he presented me with his throbbing cock. I took it in my mouth and blew him while I held a vibe to my clit and he played with the butt plug. The vibe and plug sensation while simultaneously blowing him got me extra hot. Soon enough, I was cumming from the combination and trying to keep his dick in my mouth as my body unleashed an intense simultaneous anal/clit orgasm.

Shortly after I came, he grabbed a condom and began to fuck me, butt plug still in. I was double filled and loving it, but it was almost too much. I was still fresh from the recent orgasm and now the butt plug was becoming uncomfortable. Not long of this and I had him stop so I could remove the plug, and got back to fucking.

The next morning, he asked about my thoughts on the butt plug and what I liked and disliked about it. He wanted to know what was working and not working so he could take that into consideration moving forward. I like that about him, he actually asks questions and makes sure what he’s doing is good for me. He doesn’t assume that everything he’s doing works, he wants to learn about what gets me going and wants to make sure I’m enjoying myself.

Since then, Neighbor Boy, although he has been insistent on using the butt plug from time to time to warm me up to anal, didn’t push anal sex any more. He knew that in time, if I wanted anal, I would make it happen. As I told him, baby steps to ease me into it and to build trust and eventually anal might be possible.

Trust, communication, and an eagerness to please are all important elements in any relationship.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

*** Note: in case you’re wondering timeline, I got the Njoy butt plug about 10 days before I got my Triangle Piercing, so sex and oral were still ok.

 

Roid Douche: A prick from 10 years ago…

To understand what’s to come, I need to fill you in more on my past. A little over ten years ago, I was dating Roid Douche. When I met him, I was lured in by his muscular build, badass demeanor, and found his sarcastic ass remarks comedic. Over time I realized he wasn’t what I painted him to be and he was really just a fucking prick that I was enamored with because teenage hormones.

Perhaps one day I will tell the full story of how I met him and the ups and downs, but for now I’m only filling you in on how he has impacted me to this day and how recent events that brought memories of Roid Douche back.

We had been dating a few months. We had been saying “I love you.” We spent as much time together as possible. We were inseparable. That’s how it started, but really my perception was skewed by hormones and infatuation. He was the jealous type. He was controlling. He was manipulative. He was a bipolar mess of rage.

Let’s focus on the manipulative and rage aspect for now, I will go in depth another time about the rest. A few months in, a couple weeks of “I love you” later, and still no sex to be had, he started to threaten to break up with me because I was too prude to fuck him. He started to show his true self, but I was in love and didn’t see it. He kept pushing the “I love you” card trying to get me to spread my legs and I kept saying I wasn’t ready and he kept telling me he didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

For my sixteenth birthday, I convinced my mom to let me rent a couple hotel rooms in the city for me and my friends with my sister and sister’s boyfriend as the chaperones. The plan was to go shopping with the girls then meet up with the boyfriends and everyone else at the hotel to drink and party all night. While the girls and I shopped, we each found little black dresses to wear for the hotel party and got all primped and ready for the night.

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We made our way back to the hotel, got started on the drinks, and the boyfriends and more followed soon after. We had all the boys drooling over our dolled up looks and little black dresses. Roid Douche couldn’t keep his hands off me. Maybe it was “love,” or maybe it was his possessive nature seeping out as there were other guys giving me hugs to wish me happy birthday.

A few drinks in, the party hardly started, and Roid Douche was getting anxious. His hormones caused a raging mess and he became frustrated as I kept trying to hang out with everyone. It was my birthday party after all and I was the guest of honor, why would I leave the party early? He kept insisting, “Let’s go back to our hotel room to slip you out of that little black dress…” I kept denying him the pleasure.

He eventually got angry and walked out. I followed him to the hall. He threatened to leave, he said he thought he’d get some alone time with me in our hotel room, but I was too busy with everyone else. Obviously the right response to this would have been to tell him to fuck off as it was my birthday and he could suck it, but instead it turned into me tearing up and us fighting, and him apologizing, and then me finally agreeing to go to the room.

I went back into the room and said good night and thanks to a few people, then slipped back out to meet up with Roid Douche in our hotel room. It had two queen beds. We were to share it with my friend and her boyfriend but they were still back at the party. We quickly got to making out, feeling up, and stripping down.

He moved his way from my mouth to my neck down to my nipples and trailed his way to eat me. This was a first. We have made out, he has felt me up and fingered me, I have given him hand jobs, but oral wasn’t something we had done before. Even through all his begging and pleading for sex, eating me out was never on the table.

Tonight was different. He wanted to warm me up for sex. It was obvious. He was fine, nothing spectacular though as we were in high school and although he wasn’t a virgin, his lack of experience showed. Regardless, I was liking it enough. I laid back and closed my eyes and was taking in every lick and kiss, but only a few minutes in and Roid Douche came up from between my legs all huffy, “What’s wrong? Are you even enjoying this? You aren’t cumming yet!” As if I did something wrong. As if I was broken. As if I was incapable of being pleasured by his almighty tongue.

Trying to calm him, I pulled him in to kiss and tell him I liked it. Instead of him going back down to keep eating me, we began making out and then he pushed to get his dick wet and I denied him. The brief moment of calm was overruled by anger again. I couldn’t win. He threatened to leave again and I cried and we fought and finally I convinced him to stay because it was my birthday and it was 3am and there was no way for him to get home. He agreed, but said he was having his dad pick him up first thing in the morning. We went to bed with him angry and me upset and hardly spoke the next morning and he left as he said he would.

As he got up and left early the next morning, my friend and her boyfriend (who must have slipped into the room sometime recently) woke up still very drunk. “Why is he leaving?” my girl asked. I told her he had a family emergency and that his dad came to pick him up. She tried to pry because I was obviously upset, but I tried to play it off as a headache from being hungover. We all fell back asleep and nothing more was said.

After a few days of apologies and I love you’s we made up and were back to normal. And a few more days after that, I caved. I thought I loved him. I thought that maybe all this tension and anger was from us not having sex. I let him take my virginity, on the beige pleather couch, in his garage (aka his man cave), in the dead of winter, freezing cold.

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He kissed me briefly, hardly any warming up or foreplay, grabbed a condom, spit on his hand to rub it on his dick, laid on me missionary style, and pushed his cock into my tight vagina. I laid there, staring up at the ceiling over his shoulder, trying to get my mind off the pain and hoping for it to end soon. A few minutes of him gyrating on top of me, he came. After he finished, he pulled his cock out of me and realized among the bloody mess from my torn hymen that the condom broke. Just my luck. First time in and I already have a broken condom story…. two plan B pills and week or so later, sex became more and more regular in our fucked up love story.

A few months later, all the sex, and oral, and exploring of some basic kinks and fetishes, the fighting never stopped and his bipolar roid rage continued. He kept finding things to threaten to leave me over and kept using how much he loved me to get me back. The newest thing he was pushing was anal. He wanted that new tight thing to de-virgin and my ass was calling his name.

He pushed and I told him no. He told me how much he loved me and if I loved him I would give it to him. I still told him no. He continued to push and threatened to leave because I didn’t love him if I didn’t do it. I didn’t want to lose him. We were in love. I was blind. All I could see was the drops of good moments in a vast sea of abusive misconduct.

I caved. I bent over that same beige couch in his garage, presenting him with my ass as he demanded. He spit on his hand, rubbed his cock, and thrusted into my ass. Only one thrust in and I was in too much pain to let it keep going. I wailed an ouch in pain pushing him off me. I pissed off the beast, “What? You let me get started and can’t even let me finish?”

I tried to tell him it hurt and I didn’t want to keep going. He was still angry. “Just let me finish, I will do it slowly. It won’t take long, your ass is so tight.” He pushed me back on the couch, spit some more on his dick, pinned me down and shoved his cock in me and pushed in and out slowly like he said he would, that didn’t help ease the pain. Even as I said stop and no, and as tears ran down my face, and tried to push back, he was too strong, he held me down and he continued to fuck my ass until he came in me. He then pulled out and wiped his dick off.

Still crying, hurt, and shaking, I laid there on the couch withdrawn from Roid Douche. He quickly came to my rescue and wiped my tears with his hands, kissed me, held me and apologized while simultaneously saying it was my fault he got so wound up and that he loved me and didn’t mean to hurt me and that it wouldn’t happen again.

I should have left him long ago. I should have never let it go as long as I did. I should have never dated him in the first place. I wish I would have seen it sooner. I wish my teenage hormones and “love” wouldn’t have blinded me. If only I could go back and take the day I met him back I could avoid giving the manipulative prick my virginity. I could have avoided him manipulating me into anal and avoided the continued anal rape.

From the outside, it was obvious to many of my friends and family that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but no one knew how extremely fucked up it was. I hid how shitty he truly was. I loved him. I didn’t want to lose him. I stayed with him for way too long, and 13 months in, I finally got the courage to end things.

I’ve only told a few people about what happened behind the scenes of our fucked up relationship, now whoever is reading this is part of that small few who know. At least you get the gist of things based off those few instances of emotional and sexual abuse, now multiply that by 13 months. Maybe I will fill you in more later, but those details are necessary puzzle pieces to tell you more about recent events.

Now that the seal on all the feels has been unleashed, there will be more to pour out soon. Until next time…

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Intimacy, Sex, and Freedom

I’m about a week late on this. A year and some odd days ago, I started The Boys I Encounter. First and foremost, thank you to all of my followers. You have liked and commented and supported my blog, and I am grateful you have been there every step and through my ups and downs. I know that sometimes I go weeks without posting and sometimes I post every day for several days straight. Very inconsistent, but that’s life.

A little over a year ago, I opened my blog with my Introduction and quick follow up to declare I’m Taking a Break from Boys. What sparked this urge to write a one year post was actually a boy I was just beginning to forget. This boy is Sexy Six Pack Boy, he re-added me on snapchat today and I realized it has been just over a year since I spoke to him and that he was the pivotal point in pushing me to my boy break and thus the starting point of The Boys I Encounter.

When I saw his name flash on my screen notifying that he added me as a friend, my heart skipped a beat. I knew from the start when I met him that he wasn’t Mr. Right, but Sexy Six Pack Boy, although this masculine sexual being that I met on Tinder, he was actually genuinely sweet. I am generally good at hiding my emotions and not opening up especially when I know there is no potential for more, but he broke me down, and I began to like him.

Maybe eventually I will write in detail that story, but for now, I will leave you wondering what actually happened. How long did we date? What was it about him that wasn’t perfect? Why did my emotional wall break for him? Why did it end?

Right now, although I liked him back then, if he snapped me or texted me, I don’t think I would go back to him. He already fucked that up and it’s too late. He pushed me into my break from boys and got me writing. So for that, I want to thank Sexy Six Pack Boy. Thank you for getting me expressing my views on sex and life and dating. Thank you for making me realize that it is ok to be completely single sometimes. Thank you for helping me break my emotional wall even if that made me vulnerable. Thank you for making me vulnerable and in turn, I am now stronger. Thank you for teaching me what I really want isn’t you and I shouldn’t settle for something that isn’t right for me. And thank you for adding me back on snapchat a year later so I can be strong enough to turn you down.

I don’t need any boys in my life, for the boys I choose to keep around, keep that in mind. You are a part of my life because I want you there. Even if we just met, even if we are just casual, even if we’re just fucking, even if we’re just talking and have yet to fuck… you are someone I want. You have something I desire. You are someone I like.

Once again, I don’t need any boys in my life, for the boys I decide not to see anymore, keep that in mind. If you hurt me, if I don’t want to see you, if we grow apart, if I tell you to fuck off… please leave me alone. I no longer want you. I no longer desire you. I no longer like you.

Through writing The Boys I Encounter for the past year, I have been able to use my blog as a point of reflection, a way to learn more about myself. I know I am not perfect. I know I go through phases of fucking and taking breaks and phases of writing and not writing. I know I open and close and reopen dating apps. I know what I want with sex and what I don’t want. I know I sometimes get in crazy situations, but I also know I can always walk away and have walked away even mid-fuck. I know that I love sex.

The biggest revelation I have found (maybe not associated with my writing, but still important) is that I am leaning more and more toward non-monogamy or polyamory. I don’t think I can be with one person for the rest of my life without the freedom to fuck whoever I please. I am realizing that I crave sex with various people. I am realizing I am good at understanding the difference between sex and intimacy and am capable of separating the two. I am realizing I want intimacy with someone who I can be this open sexual being with. I want someone who can accept me and my sexual needs. I want someone who doesn’t want me to change.

I want intimacy, sex, and freedom. I want to be unapologetically me.

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A snap from me to you, my loyal readers. Thanks. 😉

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus