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

Note to Self: Quit Bad Sex

Jay… Jay was a boy from Tinder. We matched back in July during my short stint back on the app. We had some good flirty banter on the app, he asked for my number, and we continued to text. He begged to meet me for a few weeks and when I finally agreed, he failed. The first time he tried to arrange to meet up with me, he claimed work was running late asking to meet at 11pm instead of 8pm so I canceled because I had to be up early the next day. The next time he tried to hang out, it was pouring out, so he then asked for a rain check, I agreed. Third time, supposedly a friend of his got in a car accident… Maybe it was true, but hard to tell when this is his third cancelation. I let it slide.

The day after his third cancelation, we finally met up. We went to a beercade and played some old school games. Beercades are my go-to for meeting guys if they fail at making plans. It means I get to play games instead of dragging out all the first date interview questions over drinks. It was fine. He was cute, confident, but a bit short and thin for my liking.

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After the beercade, we took a walk. We talked some more and he stopped me mid sentence, turned, pulled me in and kissed me and said, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” He is that guy that will say all the things he thinks you want to hear so he can fuck you. I knew that’s what he was trying to do, it was pretty obvious just by the texts before even meeting him. It was a good kiss; it even turned me on a bit. Overall, his charm was turning me on, but I could tell he would only be a one night fuck and nothing more.

On our walk, we went to another bar for one more drink… at least that was the plan. The bar we ended up at was doing karaoke night. I’m not one for karaoke. I hate feeling like I’m being put on the spot, especially unprepared. Jay demanded we both do a song. I reluctantly agreed. He ended up doing a Backstreet Boys song, I did The Joker by Steve Miller Band. He did fine, I failed. It was fun seeing him up there, but I was miserable doing it even though he tried to be a good audience by being up front and center singing along with me.

Once we finished singing, we went back to our booth. I was relieved that part of the night was over. We laughed a bit and made fun of each other’s performances. There was a break in our laugher, Jay went in to kiss me and we began making out. A song or two went by and our kissing got heavier and he got more and more touchy. This was the moment to either end the night or go somewhere to fuck.

After some flirty discussion between the two of us arguing who’s place to go to, we agreed to go to mine being that it was closer. When we got to my place, we went to my bar. I made us each a drink, then we took them up to the roof. Hardly a sip in, we were back at it, making out. As he moved from my lips to my neck to kissing my cleavage, I let out a coy giggle and told him to slow down or at least let me finish my drink.

He stopped, and took a sip of his drink. He then asked me what turns me on. I got to the point and told him all my kinks; ropes, cuffs, restraints, biting, hair pulling, nipple torture, tease and denial… His jaw dropped. He insisted he could be everything I wanted in bed. He told me he would tie me up and eat me and fuck me hard. I let out a slight giggle, thinking to myself that he thinks he can, but I knew already that he wouldn’t be able to deliver what I want. It’s not too hard to tell what a guy is like in bed based off of what he says and the way he carries himself. I could tell Jay was all talk from the start, the guy that thinks he’s all that but probably can’t hold up to the game he talks.

Alas, although I was aware of what he was trying to do, I was bored and horny. If he thinks he can tie me up and eat me the way I want to be eaten, let the games begin. We finished our drinks and made it back down from the roof and to my bedroom. When we got to my room, we started off slow, making out on the edge of my bed. He’s a fine kisser. Nothing spectacular, but not sloppy. He got a little handsy, but it seemed as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands, just put them in places. His lack of dominance showed, so I took control. I got up, pushed him back on the bed, and then straddled him.

As things heated up, I took off his shirt, then took off my dress. I kissed down his neck, to his nipples, down his abs, and teased him just above his pants. I then got up, leaving him rock hard on my bed. I grabbed my rope, threw it at him, and told him to tie me up and eat me and fuck me hard like he said he would. He grabbed the rope, looked at me, looked at the rope, and seemed unsure of what to do.

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I then directed him a little. To make it easy, I told him to just tie my hands together and then secure the rope to the bed frame. He took the direction, but stumbled the whole way. It was pretty obvious he never tied anyone up. After a few minutes of trying to figure out how to tie me up successfully, he finally got it. He then went straight into eating me. It’s hot when a guy eats me, yes, but part of the fun of being tied up is the tease and denial and losing that control of what’s to come.

As he ate me, he did alright with his tongue, but was very light with it. He had poor technique with his fingers. Like he would put them in and just keep them in one place instead of doing any type of come hither motion or swirling or even in and out. So basically he was a weak tongue with two dead fingers. Not good. I spoke up like I do and told him to use more pressure with his tongue and I thrusted my hips to help him understand the motion I need with his fingers. He kind of picked up on it, and was doing better for a minute, but then slowly drifted back to his light tongue and motionless fingers.

I got bored of his oral skills. The knots he tied weren’t all that tight, so I squirmed my hands out of the rope and took control yet again. I grabbed a condom, put it on his dick, and rode him. It only took the length of a song to finish. He came. I didn’t. I would usually keep things going either orally or getting him worked up again to fuck, but at this point, it wasn’t worth it. There was no way in hell Jay could get me off.

We both fell asleep and in the morning, when my alarm went off, I showered and left him in my bed. Once I got back to my room, he was sitting there already fully clothed. I walked him to the door, he told me he had a good time, I giggled and let him out. He tried to get ahold of me a few times since, but I just ignored him.

I don’t know why I put myself in these situations. I go on dates with guys and even once I already know that shit can’t go anywhere and that the guy isn’t going to deliver, I keep going along with it. I want to give them the benefit of the doubt or something. I want to see if they can fuck me well even if it’s just for one night. But it’s those guys, the guys that I know I will only fuck once before even fucking them, that end up being a waste of sex. I need to be better about turning down guys earlier in the night.

Note to self: quit bad sex, go home and take out my vibe; it always does a better job anyways.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Failing my Break From Boys

So sorry about being absent. The past week has been crazy busy at work, making art, and just life things. I will finish telling you about Capture the Flag Boy, but will need a little more time before divulging you in all those details.

However, I am officially failing at my break from boys (see I’m Taking a Break from Boys). I was probably always failing. I don’t know if I could ever truly give up, or at least go cold turkey from boys. But I have at least slowed my boy habits a bit.

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There are two new developments. This weekend, I met two boys, both musicians. Very dangerous. I curated an exhibition that opened on Friday, there is a venue attached to the gallery so there was also several bands playing that evening. My friends and I were hanging out in the gallery. I saw Boy #1 several feet away. He was tall, skinny, olive skin, dark shaggy hair with some blond accents, dark eyes, and an eclectic fashion sense. We made eye contact, he ruined it by leaning back directly onto a painting. “Dude! Watch out for the painting!” I yelled towards him.

“Fuck! Sorry.” He then walked over and introduced himself. His friend, Brian, joined him. We were all talking, his friend was quiet, but Boy #1, Peter, was funny. We hit it off pretty quick. We only got a few minutes of flirting in because they were being summoned to the stage to perform.

After they played their set, Peter and I made flirty eye contact several times, but we were both preoccupied by everything else. I had gallery people to entertain, he had music people to entertain. At the end of the night, I was talking to two artists about curating them into an exhibition. Peter patiently stood there, and when there was a pause, he interrupted to say good night. It was difficult to pause the conversation for long, so I said bye and he left.

The next day, I got a friend request on Facebook… but it was from Brian, not Peter. I then on a whim decided to add Peter. Several hours later, I got a ping from messenger. I was excited, hoping it was Peter, but no, it was Brian saying that it was great meeting me. I was cordial, but kept the conversation short. I’m still a bit bummed that Peter didn’t message me, but who knows, maybe he still will.

I met Boy #2 on Saturday night. My roommates’ band was performing. I arrived late, but during the band that played right before their set. It was packed. I squeezed my way in and found my friends. As we talked, I saw Boy #2 towards the back of the room. He was the tallest person in the room, dark, slightly athletic build, and quietly hot. He’s the type of hot where he is definitely attractive, but he isn’t over confident or cocky so he is almost more of a mystery. We made eye contact a few times as I spoke with my friends, but there was no way either of us would be able to make our way to one another in that crowd. Once that band ended, my roommates went up to set up and the room cleared a little in between sets. I went to front row center by the stage. My friends and I danced to the soul music playing in the background. Boy #2 made his way up as well, but stayed to the side of the stage.

My roommates started to play and the room flooded with people again. As they played, the dancing changed to a more rock mosh. Not quite dancing, not quite moshing, but definitely movement. Boy #2 leaned against the wall. I was still front center pushing and dancing along. As the set progressed, the pushing got heavier. To get out of it, I made my way to the side, now standing, but still kind of dancing on the side basically right next to Boy #2. Once the band ended, the room cleared pretty fast and I went straight up to my roommates and hugged them as I usually do. Boy #2 stood there for a minute, but I was occupied talking with my roommates. He walked outside to the back patio.

A few minutes later, my friend wanted to smoke, so I went out with her, walking ahead of her. As we got outside, the door shut behind me, I turned, opened the door, and she wasn’t there anymore. Boy #2 was right there though on the patio, and laughed, telling me she ditched me. We then got talking. Chase introduced himself, he told me he was a musician, then told me to like his band’s page on Facebook. I pulled it up, liked it, he then stole my phone and messaged the band through my account. He then messaged me back from his phone. We chatted a little longer, but my roommates were almost packed up and ready to go. We said our good byes and went our separate ways.

That night, we continued to message each other through his band page, then I eventually gave him my number. He invited me to a show his band is playing this Thursday, so of course I said yes. We are texting now as I write this.

Fuck! I definitely failed at giving up boys. But hey, I tried.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus