Friday, December 9, 2016-Saturday, December 10, 2016
Happy birthday to me!
I woke up to texts, Facebook posts, messages, and calls from various friends and family to wish me a happy birthday. I also got a text from The Chef, a voice message from The Australian, and then a message from Neighbor Boy…
I don’t remember the comment that he made the night before? But regardless, he obviously wasn’t making shit better by telling me that my emotional breakdown was weirder than his comment.
After hashing it out, we made plans for that evening. His roommate’s birthday is a few days before mine, so his birthday party happened to be that night, which worked well for me. Double the party, one that night with roommates and neighbors plus their friends, then the next night was me and my friends. With this, I told Neighbor Boy I’d be home at 9pm and we could fuck before the party started at 10pm.
When I got home, I messaged him. He was failing….
I was getting frustrated and he wasn’t delivering birthday sex as promised. Shortly after “That’s not my fault” he walked into my room. It was on.
We made out. I was still naked from my shower. He undressed quickly, continued to kiss me, then kissed down my body. There wasn’t much time till the party, so we kept it quick. As we finished, I told him he still owes me more birthday sex. He got dressed and headed down. I told him I’d be down shortly. After he left my room, I got dressed, took a selfie on snapchat to send The Australian my “Birthday Marathon day 4…” snap.
Once I was done getting ready, I made my way down to the party with a few of my roommates. I received hugs and happy birthdays from neighbors and friends as I arrived. Soon enough, drinks were poured, bowls were smoked, and games were played. Neighbor Boy and I hung out at the party as if we didn’t just fuck, and all went on.
That’s the thing about fuck buddies; there’s fucking when you’re behind closed doors, then there’s the way you interact in the real world. Neighbor Boy and I had a way of talking shit to each other when out of the bedroom. He’d say some sarcastic ass remark to me, and I would dish it back. The only way it was made known that we probably fucked is he’d walk by and grab my ass while we played pool. Other than that, there was no kissing, no physical contact, no real flirtation.
As the night progressed, I was getting a bit tipsy and my phone kept buzzing. It was The Australian. He was sending snap after snap and even a few messages on WhatsApp. I caved and started to message back and sent him some snaps. Had I been sober, I would have refrained. But the alcohol got the best of me and I enjoyed talking to him.
This caught Neighbor Boy’s attention. He came over to me and told me to put my phone away. I told him it’s my birthday and I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. He then insisted we played pool. I was just the right level of drunk to kick his ass. My claim for pool is that I have to be drunk. Too sober or too wasted I fail, but slightly drunk, I’m wonderful. As I kicked his ass, my brother texted that he was there and to meet him out front.
My brother and his friend came in and went straight to the pool table. I introduced him to Neighbor Boy. Shit was a little awkward, but the night went on. The four of us played doubles. Several rounds later it was nearing 4am. I was exhausted. I knew Neighbor Boy was drained. The party was dying. It was the four of us and maybe a few other people. My brother kept insisting another round. I finally had to tell him I was about to go up to my room and pass out. They left. Finally.
I went upstairs, Neighbor Boy stayed behind but said he’d meet me upstairs once he finished his cigarette and brushed his teeth. I messaged him when I got to my bed to tell him I was passing out but my door would be left unlocked. He came up and we fell asleep.
I woke up to Neighbor Boy pushing his morning wood against my ass. I rolled over and we got straight to business. It was fine, but I stopped him not long after we started. My triangle piercing was killing me. I couldn’t keep fucking, it was unbearable.
He left frustrated. I brushed it off and went on with my day. He messaged me later…
My birthday marathon came to a wrap. I came a handful of times. Got tied up. Played with toys. All the oral sex. Semi-successful anal sex. Had an emotional breakdown. The actual birthday sex quicky. Morning after birthday piercing pain. There were ups and downs, but I was satisfied overall.
Without giving too much away… 2017 has truly been bitch and a half with glimpses of hope for the future. I spent the first week of the year bedridden due to the flu. Then I slipped into a deep depression that’s been looming over me for quite some time before it hit hard. I couldn’t help but cry almost every day for months, slept all day most days, and nearly lost control of my life for a while. The entire year, I’ve seen various doctors 1-3 times a month for several health reasons, most resolved by now, some I’m still working on. Piled on top of this, my period was progressively getting worse every month, the only option was to switch IUDs from Paragard (which I’ve had for about 4 years already) to a Mirena, and then I was still bleeding for an entire month with terrible cramps.
Because of my health, period issues, and depression, my casual sex in 2017 was very sporadic, especially for the first half of the year. As things started to look up, I set goals to road trip and tinder across America in 2018 (further details coming soon). Then as summer hit, I reopened my online dating and started to get back on the field, collecting new players for my roster of boys. One boy lined up after another. All was falling back into place, then Chlamydia happened… Just as quickly as I lined them up, I started to turn them all away, or at least most of them. There were two key players left.
I thought the first half of the year was tough, but then the second half hit just as hard. Sometime after my IUD switch, my ex boyfriend of six years, The Man Child, called me. He recently broke up with his girlfriend (who made him cut ties with me), and he wanted to hear my voice. We talked for thirty minutes and I broke down crying after we hung up. After that, he continued to text and call, he wanted to stay in touch.
Arguments progressively got worse and worse with me and two of my roommates which just piled more shit on top of my shitty ass year. Neither of them seemed to have any sympathy or care about what I was going through. Months of us arguing I was finally fed up with it and tried to sit them down and have a mature conversation about how we’re all treating each other; this really didn’t go anywhere. The tension between all of my roommates, plus realizing that I really need to cut my expenses to make my 2018 road trip a reality, pushed me to move out of my artist loft and to an apartment where I would save half on rent.
During the weeks before my move, I had meltdown after meltdown as I did my much-needed purge. I had boxes upon boxes of stuff I couldn’t bring myself to throw out when The Man Child and I broke up. When I broke up with him, I threw all of our apartment into boxes and never looked through it for three years and now it was all looking at me in the face as I finally did my purge.
A week before my move and a day before Thanksgiving, I was in a car accident. It was a hit and run, I was slowing at a red light and was rear ended hard by an SUV and pushed into the car in front of me. Lucky I have insurance, so my $4000 of car damages and all my medical bills were covered, but I was out of work for about 3.5 weeks and out a $500 deductible, plus my entire body hurt from whiplash. Once I got back on my feet, I was barely back to work for 1.5 weeks and got in a second car accident not even a week before Christmas. This time it was not a hit and run, but I was rear ended again, but due to several cars slamming on their brakes on the expressway, which made me slam on mine then the guy behind me slammed on his brakes too late. Another $4000 of car damages, another $500 deductible, more whiplash on top of whiplash, and out of work again for almost 2 weeks. I’m slowly recovering from both the accidents and will continue to see my chiropractor and do physical therapy until the pain fully dissipates.
I think that about sums up 2017 (at least most of the negatives), but I could have missed a few, or even left a few out to not spoil what’s to come. All of this bullshit piled onto more bullshit has really fucked up my year. However there’s an upside to 2017; I somehow found myself in a monogamous relationship with the most amazing guy. My boyfriend made a lot of the bullshit fade because his positive energy is infectious. He is truly the sweetest, most thoughtful, funny, creative, passionate, and genuine person (the list could go on and on, but I will spare you). Falling in love with him has given me hope for what’s to come in 2018 and I look forward to see where our relationship takes us. A reveal on who he is will come eventually, but I’ve still got December 9th, 2016 through the first several months of 2017 to write about.
Although I am happy overall right now, I still say fuck 2017! Here’s to a brighter future. Happy New Year everyone! ❤
I woke up to a voice message from The Australian; hearing his accent was a nice way to start my morning. He’s been consistent and true to his promise. So far we talked pretty much all day every day, we shared things about our childhood, our hopes, our dreams, and kept up with our flirtatious banter; we shared things that I usually avoid talking about with most guys. It’s only been a week and I was beginning to miss him, a guy I just met briefly for two nights hardly a week earlier… but alas, he was on the opposite side of the world in Australia for the next few months and there was no promise of coming back to Chicago permanently (or at least semi-permanently).
Mixed in with my snaps and Whatsapp messaging with The Australian, I got a message from Neighbor Boy, he asked for my review on his performance on Day 2 of my Birthday Sex Marathon. He did quite well, he teased me till I was begging, repeatedly brought me to the brink of orgasm multiple times, and once he finally got me to come, he pulled out and left me craving more. His game plan, as revealed the night before, was to do everything to keep me begging for more the next few days and it was working. He then asked what I wanted more of; I told him the obvious, more oral sex.
That evening, he told me when to take my toys out and demanded I start playing with myself as he would be up soon. I sent off my “Day 3 of my birthday marathon…” snap to The Australian and got my toys out. I started off slow, set my vibrator on the lowest setting and ran it down my body starting at my nipples, circling them gently, then down my torso working my way closer and closer to my vulva. As I approached my inner thighs, the temptation to give in was magnified.
My clit tingling, I finally caved and brought my vibrator to it, but only lightly, running it up and down my inner lips tickling my clit with every upward stroke. I was on the brink of coming when my bedroom door swung open; it was Neighbor Boy. Resisting my orgasm, I set my vibrator aside.
No words exchanged, he dove face first into my soaking wet pussy. I demanded more oral and he delivered. He brought me back to the brink of coming, then stopped. He looked at the toys and handed me the butt plug. I lubed it up and slowly inserted into my ass. He got back to work, licking my clit and playing with the plug. The sensation of the plug mixed with his tongue on my clit pushed me over the edge and my body gave in, my breathing got heavier, my back arched, my vagina contracted.
Neighbor Boy slowed down, and as the final contraction released, he looked me in the eyes, crawled up, and kissed me. “Better?”
“Yes,” I smiled.
We laid there for a second, then after I came down from my orgasmic high, I proclaimed, “Fuck me in the ass.”
He smiled, agreed while demanding, “Sure, but blow me first, get me hard.”
I crawled backwards down his torso kissing him down his chest and took his cock into my mouth and blew him. A few minutes in, he was worked up and ready, I got up and handed him a condom and lube. I laid next to him anxious. I was nervous yet excited for us to have anal sex. This was the first time I was fully eager and willing to let a guy enter my ass with his dick since ten years ago when I was raped by Roid Douche.
As he put on the condom and lubed up, he asked, “Do you want to be on top? Or bottom?”
“Bottom, missionary, it will help me relax more,” I explained as my anxiety was kicking in more. I then reminded him, “Take it slow, also, no promises we can finish.”
He nodded, “I know, I’ll take it easy on you, don’t worry.” He then squeezed some more lube on his finger and slid it into my ass.
We laid missionary, we kissed, with one hand I held my vibrator to my clit and with the other I guided his dick towards my ass. With a deep breath in and exhale, he slowly inserted his cock. I focussed my energy on kissing him, the stimulation on my clit and relaxing my ass. My heart pounded. A few minutes in of him slowly sliding in and out of my ass, we switched positions, doggy style now. He entered from behind slowly. As he slid in and out, he added some light spanking and hair pulling, something I’d usually allow, but I panicked. I stopped him, I rolled over and he laid beside me.
He asked, “Is everything ok?”
I started to tear up, “I’m fine. I was enjoying it, it’s not you…” I paused.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
I sat up and the tears flooded out turning into full on crying. He pulled me towards him, holding me, trying to soothe me as I had a breakdown. “I’m sorry,” I explained, “It’s just difficult for me. I’m enjoying it, but it’s also overwhelming.”
He made a smart ass remark, “Dick so good she cried,” but quickly realized that wasn’t going to work in this situation. He then took it down a notch, “What’s up?” And that’s when I fully unleashed the tale of Roid Douche to him. He kept trying to comfort me, yet the whole scenario was awkward as fuck. He tried to be sympathetic, it worked a little, but he kind of failed after the fact.
Once the crying subsided, he left to go back down to his room, leaving me alone vulnerable in my room. He then messaged me:
Really? “This gonna be all worked out for tomorrow or what”? What type of question is that after I have an emotional breakdown and spill everything about being raped? To top it off, he still pushed trying to get his dick wet and gave me a maybe for my official birthday sex. He was failing on his response and he wasn’t getting it.
Having anal sex was a big deal to me and I still don’t think Neighbor Boy fully understands this.
The Australian left at around 4am. I woke up at about 11:45am to a “good morning” text from him. He hasn’t left yet, but he was already keeping his promise to stay in touch and we continued to text until his 6pm flight. I also woke up to a “hey” text from Neighbor Boy. He hasn’t seen me since before my recent VCH piercing and wanted to know if I was free that evening, I told him I had a date with The Chef at 8pm.
I wasn’t free that night, but there was a window of time free from the moment Neighbor Boy would be getting home from work and when I would need to be leaving for my date. And that is when pre-date quickies was born. He told me he’d be up around 6:30pm to fuck.
Late as per usual, Neighbor Boy came up just before 7pm. I blew him briefly and we fucked. After our quickie, I got dressed and ready for my date with The Chef, no time to shower (so gross, but fuck it). I ordered a Lyft, realized I was running late, texted The Chef and made my way to Balena.
As I arrived, I felt out of place. It was upscale and the people dining there were all a decade or more older than me. It was the type of nice restaurant my family would go to for a special occasion, not quite what I’d expect of a first date with a guy my friend matched with on Tinder, but then again, he’s a chef so good food obviously matters.
Blunt as always, I laid it out as soon as I sat down and told him that the place was a bit overboard for a first date. He told me we could go somewhere else, and I told him it was fine, I’m sure the food is fucking amazing, so might as well stay. And it was; everything we ordered was made to perfection.
When the bill came, he went to pay in full, but I always offer to pay half, he went with it. I’m iffy about situations like this; I don’t mind paying half, and I usually insist on it, but being that he’s the one that chose a place that ended up coming out to nearly $150 check for the two of us seems a bit steep for a first date, but whatever.
Overall, throughout dinner, we made a lot of connections and the conversation was fluid, he was nice, but there was no spark. I honestly got more of a gay vibe from him than anything, but he even made a point to say he’s not into dudes even though I never mentioned it… meaning he’s aware he comes off as gay?
Outside Balena, I ordered my Lyft home, we chatted some, said our goodbyes, it was kind of awkward. The Lyft pulled up, he went to hug me, then I went ahead and kissed him? Why the fuck did I kiss him? But the kiss was actually pretty fucking hot. His full lips lightly sucking mine and the perfect amount of tongue made for a really good first kiss. It was on, I told him to get in the Lyft with me.
I wasn’t really into him as a person, but that kiss had me intrigued enough. We got back to my place, I showed him around, told him to sit while I excused myself to pee. I went to the bathroom and checked my phone, The Australian texted saying he was in LA with a few hour layover till his connecting flight to Australia. I texted him back, “I’m still out with my gay hubby, sorry! Have a safe flight home. I wish you were here!” I then peed, washed my hands and went back out to The Chef.
I took him to my bedroom and we made out some more. We broke for a quick pause as I blurted out, “Sorry, just a quick FYI, I got my vertical clitoral hood pierced like a week ago and my triangle several weeks ago, they’re still healing. Technically I can have sex, but I also kind of made a rule not to have sex with new guys while they’re healing.” He said that’s fine and we proceeded to make out.
As the kissing got more and more heated, he told me he gives great massages. I can’t resist a good massage even if it is his excuse to get me basically naked. I stripped down to just my panties, gave him a bottle of lotion, and let him work his magic. He massaged my neck, back, arms, legs, and teased me by gently rubbing my ass and inner thighs barely grazing my clit.
I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned around and pulled him in and kissed him. He kissed down my neck and to my nipples. Fuck! I’m totally screwed. He got me beyond soaking wet. I resisted, pulled back, sat up, and looked at him smirking. I know what he’s doing, but I needed to resist a little longer before I could cave.
He then asked if I have ever been with a black guy. Thinking to myself, yes, many and one just a few hours ago, but I told him, “Yes, why is that every black guy’s question?”
He then explained how huge he is and wanted to warn me before moving forward. I laughed and told him, “I’ll be just fine, but thanks for the warning.” I then proceeded to tell him, “I might need to break my rule, definitely no oral and no touching the piercings, and you’ll have to be extra gentle…” Fuck it, breaking my no sex with new people while my piercings are healing rule. This guy doesn’t have minimal repeat potential, might as well get it in now.
He agreed to being gentle and we went forward. He stripped down and revealed his big black cock. It was definitely pretty fucking huge, but not the largest I’ve been with and I told him as I saw it, “You weren’t lying, you are pretty fucking huge… but I’m sure I can handle it, I’ve been with bigger.”
A shot to his ego, but someone needed to do it. He was cocky and that shit doesn’t fly with me, plus I was only telling him the truth. I got up and grabbed him a condom. We kissed a little longer, he slipped the condom on, and then made his way into my soaking wet pussy. His cock filled me up as he slowly pushed in and out of me.
Yes, his cock was big, but I’m no size queen. What really had me going during the sex was the continuous making out. He was definitely high in the ranking for his kissing style. We fucked missionary for a few minutes before I stopped him, my triangle piercing was hurting and I couldn’t risk fucking up my piercing over sex. I really wanted to keep going. If it wasn’t for my healing piercings, I probably would have cum, a rare first fuck orgasm.
After sex, he lingered, but I was kind of over it. I told him I should probably get some sleep. He got the hint, got dressed and headed out, it was about 2am.
In less than 24 hours, I blew and/or fucked 3 guys; oops (sorry, not sorry)!
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.
I was trying to get caught up chronologically with my encounters, then got too involved with Turning Fantasy into Reality with J Reed…. so let’s rewind a few months. Not long after the Exclusive Fuck Buddies? conversation with Neighbor Boy, my other guys in rotation were falling off and becoming less frequent. Not because of Neighbor Boy, just a natural progression. I decided this was perfect timing to take a bit of a break and not look to rebuild my rotation.
Several months earlier, I got a vertical clitoral hood piercing (VCH), and since then, I have been dying to get another genital piercing and I’ve become obsessed with the idea of getting a triangle piercing. A VCH is a piercing that goes through the clitoral hood skin and sits vertically with the jewelry resting on top of the clitoris, and can be a very stimulating piercing if done properly. A triangle is a piercing which goes across behind/beneath (placement depends on your anatomy) the clitoris from side to side, and is said to stimulate the clitoris from a spot which is never stimulated, literally the back of your clit. With a lack of boys, this was the perfect time to get my triangle piercing. No boys (aside from Neighbor Boy) means it would be easier to avoid sex for the initial healing period.
I got to researching the triangle piercing more looking up stories and information and videos. As I did my research, I found a diagram of proper placement of the VCH piercing. I instantly felt the need to look at my own VCH piercing. I got my hand mirror out and stripped off my pants and panties, spread my legs, lifted my clitoral hood and examined my piercing closer. I quickly panicked as I saw how low inside my hood my piercing was done. I grabbed a cotton swap and poked inside my hood more to see how much space there was above the piercing and came to the conclusion that my piercing was too low and to the left. Think diagram B below.
Because of the website I found this diagram through, I decided to get in touch with Elayne Angel, genital piercing guru. She literally wrote the Piercing Bible. I sent her photos of my VCH and additional photos to get a consultation to see if my anatomy is built for a triangle piercing. She confirmed, my VCH is too low and I am built properly for a triangle piercing. Yay!
Elayne has a list of piercers she recommends, I originally got my VCH done at the studio she recommended, but by a different piercer. I’m not sure if it was the piercer’s fault that I got pierced too low and to the left, or if it’s because I nearly kicked him in the face as he pierced me. Being that the kick came from the pain, I’m guessing it was him and not my kick. To avoid having this piercer, I called the studio and asked when the other piercer is available. I was told only Sundays and Mondays.
I made note of the piercer’s availability, looked at my calendar for work, my period, plans, and figured out I should get it done in two weeks. I was pushing to get it before my next period and also before it got too cold to wear just leggings as jeans would not be ideal for a healing genital piercing. As I planned this, I also realized that the triangle piercing has a minimum of a 2-3 month healing time, but could go longer. Fuck!
The VCH was only a 2-3 week healing time, so moderately easy to not care if I wasn’t getting eaten or fucked for a few weeks. However, 2-3 months is a long time to not get eaten out or fucked properly. With healing genital piercings, you definitely can’t have oral sex, unless you use a dental dam, but that’s not happening, doesn’t seem fun. You can have protected sex, but only after the first week or so once the piercing isn’t tender anymore, and even then, it has to be super gentle sex to avoid harming the piercing. Boring.
This was going to be a tough few months, but I was determined to get the piercing, so I texted Neighbor Boy and told him we have only two weeks to fuck and I called in a few nights of convenient oral. Some really good oral was necessary, it’s my favorite part about sex and I was giving it up for 2-3 months. Neighbor Boy complied and made sure I came and came again before my set piercing day.
At the moment, I already had 14 piercings including my VCH, so a genital piercing isn’t new to me, but this piercing definitely got me more anxious than any other piercing. Like my VCH was nerve wracking because it was my first genital piercing, but after reading up on it, it seemed to be the easiest and least painful of the genital piercings being that it’s such a thin piece of skin. The triangle is a more intense piercing. It is a greater amount of flesh, plus it’s very close to the clitoris, so if it’s done wrong, it can fuck shit up. Further, based on the placement, it needs a custom piece of jewelry to fit your anatomy so it isn’t too loose and moving a lot, and so it isn’t too tight and pulling on the piercing. It should lie flat against your body between your inner and outer labia.
Going in, I was already nervous, but when I told the receptionist I was there for a triangle piercing, she asked what that was, I had to tell her it was a genital piercing. Obviously she isn’t the person piercing me, but it’s not reassuring that she didn’t know what it was when she works at a tattoo and piercing studio. I had my gay husband with me, he tried to distract me. We gossiped and waited over an hour. It was a busy day for the studio, there were a few people ahead of me. The longer I waited, the more nervous I got, but I wasn’t walking out. I was determined.
As the piercer came out and called my name, my heart sped up. It was about to happen, I was about to get my triangle. My gay husband came back with me, and before I stripped down, the piercer asked if I wanted him to be in the room. I hesitated, although it was nice of my hubby to be there, I thought being alone would be best. With my VCH, Ana was there, and I actually think having her in the room made me more nervous. Being alone, for some reason, was less nerve wracking.
My gay hubby left and waited in his car. I stripped off my pants, and as I sat up on the piercing bed, I told the piercer about the VCH piercing and said I think it’s too low. He looked at it, said it looked fine and said it’s where the lower ball hits that matters, but if I’m not satisfied, he would re-pierce it for me at a later date. I told him I have consulted with Elayne and that she even agreed that it’s too low and to the left.
In my head, I was a little concerned about this comment that it only matters where the ball falls, the diagram and text from Elayne’s website fully explains that it’s how much of the bar touches the clit, you want as much contact with the jewelry to the clit as possible. The ball isn’t the only part of the jewelry. Perhaps it’s that he is a guy and doesn’t have a clitoris so he doesn’t fully understand the importance of the placement, I let it slide as Elayne recommended him.
Without asking, he grabbed his cellphone and took a picture. I was a little offended by this, he didn’t even inform me that he was taking a picture, I didn’t say anything. After the fact, he then explained that he is sending the picture to the other piercer to inform him I want it re-pierced. He said either of them could re-do it for me and then he took out the jewelry. He also sent me the photo so I could use it as a reference if I came back and had the other piercer pierce me.
We then moved onto the triangle piercing. At no point during this did I feel like he was unprofessional, but he didn’t seem to talk or explain much. He began examining my anatomy and as he was pinching behind my clitoris with his fingers he confirmed that I am built for the piercing. All seemed good. On the tray next to the piercing bed he had already prepped the needle, the piercing clamp, and the jewelry.
He clamped the skin behind my clit, took some time repositioning it to make sure my clit was fully above the clamp, told me to take a deep breath in and out. As I exhaled he swiftly pushed the needle through my skin. I tensed up slightly, but didn’t flinch or nearly kick him in the face like I did for my VCH with the other piercer. He examined my piercing and said it might be the most perfect triangle he has done yet. He handed me a mirror and I looked at it, I was still on a bit of a head rush from the adrenaline of the piercing. If he said it was his most perfect triangle, then why wouldn’t I be happy with it? It appeared to be right, so success.
The first day was tough, I was extra careful every time I sat down and walked all bull legged for the rest of the day. Day two, the tenderness was significantly less and I was able to even cross my legs. I was pretty pleased by this, however I noticed something was off. When I went to wash it on day two, I realized I could feel the bar through my skin. In my research, from what I read on Elayne’s site, it clearly states that the piercing is behind the clitoris, so being that I could feel the bar, it must be too low. I also realized that the balls of the jewelry were too tight on my labia and basically holding my labia shut making it difficult to wipe after peeing.
I quickly went to my room took photos of the fresh piercing, wrote basically a novel about my experience and what I think was wrong, and sent it to Elayne. She assured me that the piercing looks good, that sometimes the piercing is pierced lower if it can’t safely be pierced behind the clit, but that this would be what she calls a biangle and that she usually consults her piercee about this before doing the piercing. My piercer didn’t say anything, he just went ahead and did it, so this now added to the frustration. She did agree that the jewelry was too tight and I should get it widened, but that was all that was needed.
It was Tuesday, I had planned on going in on Sunday to see my piercer so he could widen it and so I could inquire about the placement. I wanted to know why he didn’t pierce it higher. I was sure I could pinch behind my clit and there should have been a significant amount of space to pierce up higher.
A couple days past, I caved. The pain of the jewelry being tight on my labia was too much. It felt as if the balls were pinching so tight that the jewelry was pulling the piercing. Not fun at all. I went in on Thursday and had the other piercer widen the jewelry. When I went in to get the jewelry widened, I spoke to the other piercer briefly mentioning my concern of how low the piercing was, but he said it looked perfect and that the piercing is meant to be at the base of the clitoral hood where it meets the labia. Based off this description, yes, the piercing was correct. He loosened the jewelry, the pain and tightness was instantly relieved, but I still left unsure about the piercing.
I did more research and found the description he gave me on bmezine.com stating, “The triangle piercing is a piercing that passes underneath the clitoral shaft…The piercing is so named because the tissue at the point where the inner labia and hood meet feels like a triangle when pinched.” I compared it to Elayne’s site, and she clearly states, “A triangle is a horizontal piercing behind the clitoris, at the base of the hood tissue where it forms from the body.”
So I got a triangle, in accordance with the first definition, but I wanted it based off Elayne’s definition. Elayne wrote the Piercing Bible. She also was taught the triangle by Lou Duff, the inventor of the triangle piercing. Of the two, I believed Elayne’s definition is more accurate. This was frustrating because now I knew that even if I fought it, my piercer was right in some manner. He did the piercing I asked for, how was he to know I wanted it pierced by a different definition of the piercing?
Frustrated, I sent the bmezine link and diagram to Elayne and said that it seems like there’s another definition of the triangle piercing and perhaps I wanted what bmezine calls a deep hood piercing. She said she has never heard of a deep hood piercing, but she says it is closer to where the triangle is meant to be pierced and sent back a revised triangle diagram with a dot of where a triangle piercing should be pierced.
After a bit of consulting with her, she told me that my piercing was fine and it is possible that my piercer just couldn’t safely go higher. Although I sent her photos of my fingers pinching behind my clit, she said she couldn’t confirm it via email, that it is something she would have to feel in person to confirm. I arranged to get a proper triangle with her if I could safely get it done and decided to keep the “triangle” I got done by my piercer.
I spent the next few days examining the piercing and over thinking it. I wasn’t happy, but I already went through the pain of getting it done and I was already planning another piercing with Elayne. As I examined it, I noticed the piercing didn’t lay flat against my vulva like it should. I also noticed a small tear. Was my piercing moving? I went in, talked to my piercer, explained I thought my piercing was migrating. He looked and told me that was a natural crease, not a tear.
He then realized that when the other piercer widened the jewelry, he bent it, it was no longer a flat ring, it was warped. He swapped it out for a larger piece of jewelry. I started to explain my concerns about the piercing placement, and he said that the placement is perfect, but if I’m not happy with it, the piercing is guaranteed, but he wouldn’t re-pierce it. He said if I wanted, the other piercer could re-pierce it. I wasn’t going to let that happen. So at that moment, I retreated. I agreed to just keep the piercing. Once again, I was already talking to Elayne to get a second triangle higher up. I was frustrated, but I was also tired of obsessing and arguing about the piercing.
Looking back at it, I should have thought it was weird how the piercer described the VCH saying it was ok and it is just based on where the ball sits. I should have been concerned when he didn’t discuss the placement of the piercing. I should have been concerned that he already had a piece of jewelry waiting, he didn’t measure my body at all to custom fit the jewelry resulting in too tight of jewelry. I should have known something was off, but I didn’t go with my gut. I went ahead and got the piercing because it should have been right. Elayne recommended him. He said it was the most perfect triangle he has ever done. It should have been perfect, but it wasn’t.
All of this pain and frustration just in the first two weeks. I was upset and a bit deterred, but now it was time to be optimistic. I will be getting pierced by Elayne, genital piercing guru, come summer. She will do it right. Now it’s time to heal. Now I have to avoid oral and sex. Fuck! This was going to be a long couple months.
P.S. A short post from a few months ago you might like, I had an Orgasm Dream as a result of refraining from all things sex the first few weeks of getting my Triangle.
Today I met Jermaine (aka J Reed) at a Starbucks in South Shore. I arrived, I didn’t see him, so I ordered a green tea latte for while I waited. Soon after I ordered, he texted asking if I was there, I told him I had just placed my order. The barista handed me my drink, I took it to an empty table near the entrance and responded to some messages and waited. A few minutes passed and he messaged saying there was no parking. I continued to wait.
When he arrived, we introduced ourselves and then got talking about our blogs and how we got into writing them and what drives them. I told him how a friend of mine suggested I write The Boys I Encounter just based on my nature to talk about sex basically 24/7. I told him about an idea I have to take my blog national and fuck my way through the US on a 2-3 month road trip.
About 15/20 minutes into our conversation, he seemed nervous, yet eager to leave the Starbucks and even asked if I was ready to leave. I told him to slow down, we have plenty of time and I have yet to finish my drink. To take his mind off of the fantasy he has painted of us, I pushed the conversation a bit away from that and started to ask him more about his writing and his published works and talked about creative pursuits and trailed into movies and Nicolas Cage and Will Ferrel. I think this part of the conversation was the most genuine moment we had. Something about his eager demeanor and nervousness made the whole interaction a bit awkward for me. I feed off of the energy of those around me, he didn’t seem confident or comfortable, so it rubbed off on me some and I became more reserved.
I paused, sipped my drink, and looked at him. At that moment, I was contemplating whether or not to go further with him. I could tell he really wanted to take me back to his place as he kept pressing about the fantasy we have built, but I wasn’t necessarily feeling any natural sexual connection between the two of us. I took a moment to step away and go to the bathroom and collect my thoughts. When I returned, we talked a bit more, I finished my drink, and then thought, “Fuck it, let’s do this.” I wanted to see if his skills in bed could match his writing. I asked for his address and we got in our separate cars and met out front his place.
When we got to his apartment, I instantly noticed how vacant it felt. Not much furniture or belongings. It didn’t feel lived in. There was a table in the living room, no couch or seating. His bedroom was basically just a bed and a desk. I took my coat off, set my purse down, and excused myself to go to the restroom again. Maybe a venti green tea latte was a bit much to drink before fucking, but I needed the caffeine as I didn’t get much sleep the night before and I woke up at 6am this morning. By the bathroom there was a girl’s pink scooter. He must have a daughter, I didn’t pry.
Once I got back to the bedroom, I took off my boots and my sweater leaving me in my jeans and tank top. He was standing by the bed, anxiously awaiting to fuck. I walked to him, we kissed for a moment. His full lips kissing mine were good, I love nice full lips as it allows for the perfect blend of suction and tongue. He seemed a bit reserved with the kissing, but that was fine. As we kissed, he unclipped my bra under my shirt, I then lifted my tank and bra up and over my head.
Now topless, he pushed me onto the bed, kissing me, then kissing down my neck, to my nipples. He quickly moved his lips from my nipples to removing my jeans. He admired my body, I pulled him in for a kiss, unbuttoned his shirt slightly and told him to take it off, he stripped completely naked. He then went into kissing my inner thighs. The use of suction was a bit distracting, he kissed and sucked on my inner thighs in almost a lip-smacking suction cup type of way. I prefer a bit of a softer touch, I crave being teased and denied. I need there to be a build up from soft to hard. Although the general idea of teasing was there, it seemed a bit forced and rushed. He didn’t seem at ease at all with what he was doing.
Soon enough, he took my clit in his mouth and licked and sucked away. All this subpar teasing panned out, as his eating skills were definitely there. As he ate me, he rested his hands on my breasts, but just left them stagnant. There was all this tongue action and nothing much more going on, not even any nipple rubbing or body massaging or fingering. Nothing. I guided one of his hands down to finger my vagina and then told him to pinch my nipple with his other hand.
He obeyed. Inserted his fingers and pinched me. Both were a bit off. I told him to pinch me harder, it got better. His fingers were a bit mismatched from his tongue, a bit too hard and fast. I told him to slow down. Much better. Everything started to fall in place, I even got close to cumming, but as I told him to keep going and how good it was feeling, he started to pick up the pace and pressure again throwing me off and taking me out of my orgasm.
His phone was vibrating for a couple minutes at this point. At first I thought it was a phone call and ignored it because I was close to cumming, but then when the orgasm disappeared, I pulled him up for a second, kissed him, and we both realized it was still vibrating. He got up to turn it off, an alarm probably.
He dived right back head first into my pussy, trying to pick up where he left. I tried to get back into it, I let him eat me for a few more minutes, but the moment passed. I wasn’t feeling it anymore. I sat up and kissed him again. He asked if I came. I then told him, “If I came, you would know, you wouldn’t have to ask.” I then continued to explain, “You did really good, you just need to spend more time building it up.”
He was about to go back to eating me, I stopped him and asked if he had a condom. He got up and grabbed one from his jean pocket, and sat back on the bed and told me to get him hard again; every guys way to ask for some pre-sex head, which I wasn’t going to deny him any. I took my sweet time. Kissing him for a bit, working my way down his neck to his nipples gently. I continued to rub his nipples with my fingers and trailed my kisses and tongue down each side of his torso to his pelvis teasing all his pubic bone and his thighs hardly grazing his cock with my lips. As the tease continued, he shook with excitement.
I sat up, smiled and started to lift my hair into a ponytail, he tried to reach up to touch my breasts, I leaned back barely out of reach, I then stated, “That is how you tease someone. It’s about getting that full body reaction before even really getting started.” I then went back to teasing a bit more, and worked my way to licking his shaft slightly and sucking just the tip of his cock, still building up the suspense. As his body quivered, I began to take his throbbing dick in my mouth slowly deeper and deeper, one hand rubbing his nipples and as my mouth came up his shaft I added my other hand below my lips, moving them in unison.
He moaned and shook with excitement. Within minutes of blowing him, he stopped me and declared, “I don’t want to cum just yet.” He then grabbed the condom and unwrapped it. He fumbled a bit, “It’s been a while since I’ve used one of these.”
I’m not sure if that means he hasn’t fucked anyone in a while, or that he just doesn’t usually use condoms. I let that slide and once he got the condom on, I mounted him, riding his cock, kissing his lips and neck for a brief moment. I then sat upright, pushed my hands against his chest as I swayed my hips side to side and lift myself up and down on his cock. He stopped me again just before he was about to cum.
I unmounted and he directed me to get on my hands and knees. I listened and he entered me from behind, spanking me some, but it felt as though he was hesitating a bit. He fucked me fine. A basic move, but there was no excitement. He didn’t pull my hair, or rub my clit or push me hard into the sheets. Although he has read my blog and has some knowledge of what I enjoy, he didn’t push any boundaries. Once again, I feed off energy and that goes for the bedroom. He didn’t go for kink, so I allowed it to stay vanilla. As he continued to fuck me doggy style, I reached down and played with his balls some, and then with my clit.
I wasn’t feeling it, so I stopped him and turned to face him, now fucking missionary, we kissed and I lifted my hips into his as he thrusted into me. Not much of this and he pulled out, shaking, on the verge of cumming. This was my queue to get up and go pee. I went to the restroom, did my post sex piss, and walked back into the room. He eyed me up and down. I walked to the bed, looked at him, didn’t say anything yet, grabbed my water from the bedside, took a sip and walked to the desk to check my phone. It was 3:30, I considered giving him a little more time, but I was so over it, and kind of hungry, so I walked to the bed, kissed him and told him I was going to head out to grab some lunch before heading to work.
He seemed a little disappointed, but also as if he saw that coming. As we both got dressed, he told me he’d like to spend a day learning more about teasing and denial as most of the time he skips all of that and jumps straight to sex. I told him that could happen, I’d be down to see his skills when I’m properly worked up. He walked me to my car, kissed me goodbye, and I drove off.
I wanted so bad to unleash my kink, but at the same time, it didn’t seem quite right with him. The encounter was so spelt out from our emails it felt a bit contrived. Maybe if I give him the opportunity to tease and deny me and eat me for a day and learn my body, the sex could be amazing, but for today, it was just a fun experiment.