Fuck 2017, Happy New Year!

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.

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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! ❤

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 2

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

I woke up to a snap from The Australian of him chilling in his pool bragging about the nice weather, a “good morning” text from The Chef, and a Facebook message from Neighbor Boy asking about my Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 1. The attention these boys are paying me definitely helps show the love for my birthday week. I send The Australian a sultry “good morning” snap of me near naked in bed, ignore the good morning text from The Chef until later in the afternoon, and spill all the disappointing details to Neighbor Boy about Day 1 and tell him he better make it better that night for Day 2 of my birthday sex marathon.

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In our messaging, Neighbor Boy confirmed he’d clear his schedule for me tonight through Saturday so my Birthday Sex Marathon could commence. Neighbor Boy also told me he’d be ready by 9pm tonight, but expect a message from him earlier to tell me when to start playing with myself. I’ve hardly used a vibrator in 10 weeks, and the few times I did it was limited because my piercings were too tender. I was getting wet thinking about my toys. I told him I might just have to pull out my toys right then, he told me I had to wait till he gave me directions to use them, I obeyed.

Not long before 9pm, I snapped The Australian a selfie saying “Day 2 of my birthday marathon…” and he responded with “Have fun” and several heart eye emojis.

As 9pm struck, still no message from Neighbor Boy. The anticipation was killing me. I messaged him, asking if I should start playing with myself. He told me not yet. I waited. He finally told me to start playing with myself, told me to put on my nipple clamps, start using my vibrator, and have my rope and butt plug on stand-by. I got started and sent a photo as proof and also to get his ass up to my room quicker. He still took his sweet time.

I texted to tell him how close I was to coming, he told me I wasn’t allowed to yet. Shortly after that, he opened my bedroom door, told me to set my vibrator aside, and began to tease me. He kissed me lightly, and pulled away. Grazed his lips over my nipples, but left them just as quick. Brushed his hands all over my body, but didn’t quite caress me. He kissed my inner thighs, but wouldn’t kiss my clit. He meticulously tortured me with every move he made.

He then lubed up the butt plug and had me put it in. Nipple clamps on, butt plug in, body riled up from all the teasing, I was dripping. He dove in and ate me, licking my clit up and down as he played with the plug. My body stimulated on all fronts, I was about to climax just minutes into getting eaten, and he stops, stands up, and goes to exit my room.

I jump up, and pull him from the door, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s all part of my plan, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Neighbor Boy said with a cocky smirk.

“Fuck no you aren’t,” I explained, “It’s my birthday, I’m supposed to get birthday sex.”

“It’s not your birthday yet.”

After a few minutes of this discussion, I basically begged for him to keep going, he finally let in, all he wanted was to hear me beg for him to make me come. It worked. He then tied my wrists together, vibe in my hands by my clit, flipped me over and tied the rope around me, forcing me to keep the vibe by my clit. He grabbed a condom, put it on, and he entered me from behind. Every time he pushed in, his body would press against the butt plug, my clit still tingling from the vibrator, my nipples being pinched by the clamps. All of this had my body stimulated to the max, but right as I began to climax, he pulled out, cutting my orgasm short of what it could have been.

“You ass!” I was frustrated, I came, but he intentionally slid out right at that moment to throw me off. He smiled that cocky smirk. He knew what he was doing.

He untied me, set aside the vibrator, took the clamps off, butt plug still in, and we laid there for a bit. “We should try anal,” I said.

“Not tonight,” Neighbor Boy responded and then sat up, got out of bed and started to get dressed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I questioned, confused about his response to me offering anal sex.

“I’m hungry and you told me earlier you have to wake up early tomorrow and might not want a sleep over,” he then added, “You’re welcome to come down and eat and hang out if you want.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in like 10 minutes,” I responded.

He left, I got up, went to the bathroom, took out the butt plug and washed it, went back to my room, took a sexy snap and sent it to The Australian saying “Wiped, passing out! xoxo,” got dressed, and made my way downstairs. Neighbor Boy was making pizza rolls and chicken rings; obviously he doesn’t fit my dream man criteria of someone who knows how to cook. I laughed and poked fun at him for his food choices. He told me to take it or leave it. I was hungry so I stayed. We took the pizza rolls and chicken rings to his room.

We ate, cuddled, and watched some Netflix. Not long into this, Neighbor Boy was drifting off and as he fell asleep, he started to snore. I really did need to wake up early, so I got up, and went upstairs to my bed. The joys of a fuck buddy who lives downstairs from you is your bed is never too far away.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 1

Birthday sex… probably some of my favorite sex. When it’s your birthday, your sex partners are pretty much obligated to make sure your birthday sex is everything you want and more. And while it’s your birthday, why not try to stretch it out as many days as you can? So I had myself a bit of a birthday sex marathon last year. To help my case in stretching out my birthday sex to a full 5 day marathon, I used my freshly healed piercings as leverage; after about 10 weeks my triangle piercing was healed, plus the vertical clitoral hood was also healed after 2 weeks. I timed the healing of my piercings perfectly so I could get all the birthday sex and oral I wanted.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Hardly a week since The Australian has left the country and he was still keeping his word. We messaged every day from the time he woke up to the time I went to bed. It was really sweet, most mornings I would wake up to a few snaps and a voice message from him. He really knew how to win a girl over, even from the opposite side of the country. As my birthday week approached, I warned him that I was going to be swamped with birthday plans pretty much every night so my attention to him would be cut short. Just before going out on Tuesday, I sent him a selfie on snapchat reading, “Day 1 of my birthday marathon…” Then went off to my plans.

The Chef and I met up for drinks. We made out, played a few rounds of pool, made out some more. As we finished up our last game, we sat and had another drink, a couple came up and asked if we were still playing. We told them no and the table was all theirs. We got back to our drinks and made out some here and there. The couple kept making eyes at us. We laughed, then headed out.

As we left the bar, he turned to me, pinned me against the wall and kissed me some more. When he pulled back from the kiss, he told me, “That couple totally wanted us.”

I laughed, “Oh totally… too bad they weren’t my type.”

We made our way to get some food. Cheap burgers at Red Hot Ranch. I went on a rant about how I much prefer a good time and cheap food over a fancy stuck up restaurant any day (although good food at a fancy restaurant is fucking delicious, just not my thing for a first date, second date, third date… more like a special occasion type of date). He made note.

After cheap food, we made our way to a dive bar and got another round of drinks. We sat at a dark booth towards the back of the bar. We chatted some, made out some more. After about 30 minutes of being there, it was announced that it just so happened to be a stand up comedy night that night.

Ever single comedian that got on the stage made some sort of comment about “What a cute couple,” or “Look at them, they are going to have the cutest babies,” or the one that didn’t beat around the bush, “Let’s just clear things up here, his chocolate skin against her milky white is what we need to see more of in this country.” So being an interracial couple in a bar during stand-up equals being the center of attention even though we went to the furthest darkest booth in the bar… you’re welcome for the material I guess?

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After the stand-up, we went back to my place and straight to my bedroom. All that making out throughout the evening had me soaking wet. We stripped down pretty quick. He knew my piercings were healed and so he went straight for the kill, mouth kissed down my body and down to taste my wetness.

He licked my clit as he slid his fingers in and out. This was the first time I was able to have oral in about 10 weeks and something was falling short. He did just fine, but I found myself bored. I kept trying to tell him to try a few different things, and tried to raise and lower my hips, but nothing was working all that well, then my triangle piercing started to hurt. I took that as a sign to just call quits on oral and pulled him up. I had high hopes for him based on his kissing skills, but was kind of disappointed.

As I pulled him up, he insisted on going back down, but I told him my piercing was sore, so probably best not to eat me anymore. I was tempted to just tell him he was only sub-par, but I was also hoping that maybe it was just my piercing and that hopefully the next time would be better.

We got back to kissing. Oh my god… so much better than the oral. How can he kiss so fucking good, but have me bored when he’s eating me? It was a complete mystery to me. As the kissing got more heated, he was rock hard, I gave him a condom to put on, then I slipped him into my soaking wet pussy. His throbbing, thick, large cock filled me up as he slid in.

As he slid in and out, his body pushed into mine and the piercings tickled my clit. It felt pretty fucking amazing, that is, until he slipped out when we were changing positions and his dick hit my triangle piercing.

“Fuck!!!” I cried in pain.

The night was over. I wasn’t going to cum anymore and I wasn’t feeling it enough to keep trying. He laid in my bed for a little bit, I got up and cleaned my piercings. As I got back to the bed, I kissed him a little, then told him I had to be up early (aka get the fuck out).

He got the hint, got dressed, and went home. I took a shower and then snapped The Australian a sexy pic, “home from day 1 of my birthday marathon.” He responded with several heart eye emojis, we chatted some more until I drifted off to sleep.

It felt weird, having this ongoing messaging with a guy all the way on the opposite side of the world as I filled my nights fucking other dudes, but then again, why would I commit myself to someone that far away when I’ve hardly spent two days physically with him? I can hardly commit myself to someone I see regularly, I’m not going to treat The Australian any different.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

3 Boys, 24 Hours

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.

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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)!

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

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 two of his roommates and one of his roommate’s date. 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, making my way to kissing 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 and 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

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

 

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

Suburbia, just go home

Suburbia… I should have known you wouldn’t be as good as I had you painted in my head. It was too good to be true, and that is how online dating seems to go. I had Phone Date Jitters when Suburbia insisted he called earlier in July, but it went seemingly well, too well. The phone conversation went for four hours, then we even had another phone conversation that lasted about two hours the day before we finally met in person. He was sweet and easy to hold a conversation with, there were a few minor red flags, but nothing that would have been make or break for me.

He lives in the suburbs at home with his dad and grandma. That should have been red flag enough, but you live and learn I guess. The next day, he took the train into the city and I picked him up. As I pulled up and saw him, first thought, he is way too skinny and short. Like maybe 5’7″. I’m trying to not be that shallow, but for me, while I’m not looking for a relationship, the guys I’m casually seeing/sleeping with better fit my shallow desires.

It was too late to drive off. I’m not cruel. I wasn’t going to stand him up on first glance when he took the train all this way. He got in and we awkwardly introduced ourselves. He brought me brownies because during our phone conversation, I joked with him that he’d get extra brownie points if brownies were actually involved. It was a sweet gesture, but I pretty much already made up my mind.

We went to the Garfield Park Conservatory, walked around and talked a bit. It was nice, but I wasn’t really interested. Everything he said I couldn’t relate to. He has terrible taste in music, he showed me his tattoos, both amature and the ideas he had didn’t sound too great either. He then asked how much longer I plan on living in the city for and said that he’s looking for his “fairytale ending; a wife, kids, nice house in the suburbs. You know, the whole white picket fence dream.” Those were literally the words that came out of his mouth. That was the last straw for me, but I felt trapped. He came all the way to the city and I was his ride back to the train.

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We continued to hang out. He was sweet, and so eager to please me and kept insisting that he didn’t need to catch a train until 11:40pm, it was difficult to tell him that he should catch the next train home, so I was stuck with him for the next few hours.

The evening dragged. We ran out of things to talk about. He still kept insisting that he didn’t need to go home yet. He even tried to kiss me, but I was so not into it. I did a quick giggle and turn as to let him kiss my cheek. I think he saw it as endearing, he didn’t get that I wasn’t interested. He then kept setting shit up and telling me I should come to the suburbs and I hardly had room to talk. I felt suffocated. I didn’t have the heart to shut him up and tell him then that I wasn’t interested, but I also felt bulldozed into a fantasy relationship he had painted of us in his head.

I was so bored and exhausted, he finally realized or at least noticed I was tired, and said he could catch the 10:40 instead of the 11:40. Thank fucking god. I drove him to the train station as fast as I could and called it a night.

The next day he texted to tell me that he was excited to see me again and can’t wait till our next date. I had to let him down easy right then and there. I don’t like to ghost, so I told him that it’s obvious that we aren’t compatible. He wants a fairy tale ending with a white picket fence, while I want to be free and travel and fuck whoever I want. When I texted him this he called and told me he didn’t understand. He thought that everything was going well and he didn’t see this coming and that he thought this time would be different.

Is that bad that I continued to hang out with him out of pity? Should I have driven off and just ditched him outside the train station? Or told him earlier in the evening when he first so eagerly told me he had till the 11:40 train? There never really is a right time to let someone down when they are that into you. Sometimes you just gotta rip the band-aid off and let them know how it is.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Tinder Douche #2

Tinder Douche texted me the very next day to inform me how he couldn’t wait to nap. I wore him out. I threw it in his face that I slept till 1pm. There was some back and forth flirty banter, but he obviously was more interested in me than I was him. If it was up to me, I would have never seen him again. The sex was pretty good, but him as a person was forgettable, but alas, I was bored and the sex was good enough to keep him around if he’s hitting me up. We texted back and forth for the next two days and he finally caved. He needed me.

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It was obviously a booty call. It was nearly 1am. He has been drinking and in the suburbs dying of boredom. He was trying to tell me he needs an excuse to leave. I told him he could make some shit up and just leave, he’s an adult, he can do whatever he wants. He was then trying to tell me that he wants the excuse to be me, he really wanted to see me right at that moment. He begged and said he would pick me up and drive me home, and begged some more until I said yes. At the moment, it was cute. Looking back, it was pathetic.

On his drive back to the city, there was a car accident. To show me that he wasn’t lying or some shit like that, he decided to facetime me while he was driving. What a dumbass!? Either way, he showed me that the cars were up in flames and he was stuck in traffic because of it. I wasn’t too concerned, he would get there whenever he got there.

At about 2:15am, he picked me up. I don’t know why I agreed to let him pick me up. I should have just drove myself and met him at his place. But that is how life goes, you make decisions and shit happens. As we pulled up to his apartment, he bitched about the lack of parking. All I could think is how he lives in Chicago, and even the cherry to top it, he lives in Lakeview, of course parking is tough to find. Stop your bitching and get over it.

He parked his car about three blocks down from his apartment and on our walk, he wouldn’t stop his complaining about the parking situation. Oh my god, I wanted to shoot myself. This little prick is so fucking annoying and somehow I decided to hang out with him again. On the outside, I faked it. I faked it so hard and put a smile on and said “Sorry, this does suck,” to get him to shut up about the parking. On the inside, I was cussing him out, telling him to get the fuck over it because this is how shit is in the city, sorry if you just moved here a few weeks earlier. Boo fucking hoo that you can’t find parking right in front of your apartment.

We got to his place, he went straight to the kitchen and told me to have a seat in the living room and he was grabbing water. I assumed he would get me a glass too because he asked if I was thirsty and I said yes, but he walked in with just one glass which he was hogging. OK? So I spoke up and grabbed the glass from him and drank the water I had asked for in the first place.

He turned on ESPN… Once again, I was annoyed. I spoke up again and told him I didn’t agree to come over so he could catch up on the sports highlights while I just sit there. He apologized for being inconsiderate, then he surprised me by bringing up art. At first I thought he was being genuine and actually interested when he asked about my opinion about some art that was up for auction at Sotheby’s, but I quickly realized he is a complete imbecile. He was trying to argue with me about how a child could paint the paintings that were up for auction and he couldn’t understand what was so significant about the work even when I schooled him with some art history. His only response once I shut him down was, “Well, that’s not my problem.” Which made absolutely no sense.

I should have left then, but I didn’t. Sometimes I wonder why I make myself suffer. Once the art argument dissipated, we went to his bedroom. He quickly went in to kiss me and the night quickly escalated. All this pent up anger and aggravation I had towards him made the sex more aggressive and hot. He pulled my hair and kissed my neck and stripped me naked and bit my nipples and played with my clitoral hood ring. He was in control and very dominant, a huge turn on despite the overall tone of the night so far.

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He then stripped himself down naked, I quickly noticed he had shave since I saw him last. Not only did he shave his dick bald, he shaved his entire chest. Huge turn off, but I was letting it slide because he quickly plunged his face between my thighs and took his mouth to my clit. And this is where he lost me even more. He had no clue what he was doing with his mouth. I literally had to tell him not to bite my piercing. How can he be so good with his fingers and suck with his mouth? On top of it, once I got him to chill with the chomping on my vulva, he got to a decent licking, but nothing spectacular, he didn’t use his fingers at all. I told him to add his fingers and he seemed confused, like how could someone finger and eat pussy at the same time?

Once I got him to add his fingers, things seemed to be kind of better, but hardly comparable to what my expectations were for him based on his other skills. Maybe five minutes has gone by, and that might be exaggerating, before he gave up. He came up and gave me a “suck my dick because I just ate your pussy look.” I looked at him and told him his job wasn’t done. He then told me, “You’re lucky I just ate you that long, I rarely eat pussy.”

No fucking shit. Of course he doesn’t eat pussy. That explains a lot, and now you’re expecting me to suck your dick? I told him to get back down there if he expects me to suck his dick. He then asked if we could 69 instead. I reluctantly agreed. He was doing somewhat better, but he also kept getting sidetracked by what I was doing and kept trying to push his head aside so he can watch me blow him. I was getting no where and I wasn’t about to let him get off without hardly doing shit for me, so I stopped, rolled over, and told him to grab a condom.

He bitched about that too, telling me he was so close to cumming. I told him he’s lucky I’m still even there, then he stopped his complaining and grabbed a condom. Once again, he fucked me hard. Pulled my hair. Spanked my ass. Pinned me down. Pinched and bit my nipples. Played with my clit. It was hot. I was close. I flipped us over, told him to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, I placed my hands on his knees, and sat on his cock, sliding him into my vagina. I pulled his fingers to my clit, and his other hand up to my nipples to pinch them as I rode him hard. I came. He came. We both came.

I got up, and laid down on his bed as he took off the condom and cleaned up. He then laid next to me and said he was getting tired. I looked at him, and said “Ok? So give me a ride home.” He then said “Not my problem, sounds like a you problem. Catch an Uber home or something.” I cussed him out and told him if he wasn’t giving me a ride home, I could have driven myself. Not that it was that far of an Uber ride or anything, but the ass really had some nerve.

He then proceeded to tell me to leave. I got dressed, went to the bathroom, and when I got out, he was introducing me to his roommate. His roommate looked me up and down and asked Tinder Douche, “So this is the hot bartender you told me about?” as if I wasn’t even there. Tinder Douche continued this side conversation with his roommate right in front of me and told him, “Yea, she’s pretty good in bed… too bad she wouldn’t finish blowing me.”

I then told him off right in front of his roommate, “First of all, you fucking suck at eating pussy. Secondly, grow your fucking body hair. Trim it, don’t fucking shave it. You look like a prepubescent boy and your entire body felt like sandpaper rubbing against me. Thirdly…” This rant of mine continued for a good minute or two.

His response, “Not my problem, sounds like a you problem.”

I didn’t say anything after that. I grabbed my purse and walked out and called a Lyft. A couple minutes later, as I stood there waiting for my ride, Tinder Douche walked out to apologize. He tried to comfort me and tried to kiss me. I was beyond my limits, and pushed him away and called him a fucking asshole. He then kept trying to say he was just fucking with me because he knows I can talk shit and hold my own. I ignored him. He kept talking at me and luckily this only lasted a minute because my Lyft driver pulled up. I walked towards the car, he grabbed my hand, I looked back angrily and pulled my hand away.

As soon as I was in the Lyft, I was relieved to be on my way home. That was a night from hell, and I was glad to be done with Tinder Douche. Not long after I left, he texted:

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He didn’t respond to that text. His next text to me was an emoji crying and a gun, which I thought was him saying he was committing suicide as a dark response to me chewing him out, but I guess he was trying to say he was tired? Either way, I told him he could crash and burn like the cars he saw on the way to picking me up. Dark? Yes. Sorry. But Tinder Douche is dead to me.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

 

Tinder Douche

As I told you already, I redownloaded Tinder again briefly Thursday, July 7. It was about 9:30pm. Well within a half hour, I had a dozen matches, and several messages. One guy in particular held pretty good conversation, at least played along with my banter. I tend to dissect what people say and twist their words in a playful manner to start a flirtatious argument.

For the sake of this blog, he doesn’t need a name. He was a blip in my sexual life, so this guy will only be known as Tinder Douche. Well Tinder Douche started out fun and light via messaging. At one point, he said he’s not looking to date, so I jokingly told him, “I completely understand, I’m on here for strictly platonic friends too.” He was terrible on his defense, and said “No, I’m just not looking to date, but I also don’t want a one night stand.” So basically, he was passive aggressively trying to see if I would be down for a casual sex/fuck buddy type thing. I responded with, “Are you sure you aren’t telling me you aren’t looking for a one night stand so I let my guard down and fuck you the first time we meet? I’ve got my eye on you.”

I thought it was funny how hard he tried to say he wasn’t looking for a one night stand, but he also wouldn’t admit to wanting a fuck buddy, but also said he didn’t want to date. He was getting so worked up every time I twisted what he said. He eventually ended it with, “I like your style. You can really talk some shit.” Our flirtatious messaging went on until about 11:15pm when he messaged saying “Instead of messaging for the entire hour, we could have met up.” I shot it back at him, “Well isn’t it past your bedtime?” He quickly responded to tell me he could stay up till 3am tonight. I agreed to meet up with him for drinks at a bar near me. I told him to text when he got close.

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He texted when he was parking. I walked down and saw him by his car. We went into the bar, he ordered a beer and I got my usual, Jameson Mule. He seemed nice, a little bit bro-y, but not too much to send me running out the door. Aside from being nice with a dash of bro, nothing really stood out to me. We were at the bar for a little over an hour when they started last call.

Tinder Douche said he still had two hours before he needed to go to bed, so he’s open to going somewhere else. Being that I lived a few buildings over, I offered my place because I have a bar and rooftop. He declined because he didn’t want any chance of my roommates being around. He then offered his place and promised he would give me a ride home at 3am. I agreed and we drove to his.

We went to his kitchen, he poured us each a drink and we continued to talk. I noticed right away that his kitchen wasn’t your typical 24-year-old boys’ kitchen. It was pretty clean. The entire apartment was clean. He also told me how he knows how to cook. I was impressed.

Although he wasn’t my type romantically (he’s a bit too white suburban bro), he was still cute, nice, and had some redeeming qualities. At the moment, I was intrigued. I could see him being a good lay, but I’m unsure of how far I would take it or how long he’d be in the picture because he definitely isn’t my type.

After we both finished our drinks, he suggested that we could watch a movie or something in his room. I laughed, no one really watches a movie when they’re hanging out with a guy from Tinder. They don’t call it Netflix and chill because people actually watch movies. I was hesitant, but intrigued enough, so I agreed.

We went to his room and sat on his bed. He started scrolling through the TV guide and found a movie on HBO. We sat back, talked briefly, but he went quickly in to kiss me. His kisses were surprisingly full for a guy with thin lips, but being that his lips weren’t the fullest and his facial hair was well past a 5 o’clock shadow, it was nearly like having sandpaper rubbing against my face. Not fun. I pulled back and told him to be careful, he got the picture and kissed me lighter.

As things picked up, it got a bit more hot and heavy. He kissed down my neck and unzipped my jeans, pulling them off as he continued to kiss me. He then lifted my shirt off and unclipped my bra. He was pretty slick with his maneuvers, I’ll give him that. He reached down with his hand, and massaged my clit. I was in clit tease heaven at this point. Not many guys can get the right pressure on my clit that quick, but he managed to do so.

Prior to this, there had been no discussion of our kinks or desires. He either had the exact same sex style as me, or he knew exactly how to read my body as I reacted to whatever he was doing. He nailed the pressure on my clit. Then he went in to my nipples, started gently  rubbing them with his fingers, then built up the pressure into some squeezing and pinching, then went in and bit my nipples. I never told him I like my nipples bit, but he figured it out anyways. It was hot.

Soon enough, his magic on my clit and nipples had me worked up. He had me soaking wet. He knew I couldn’t resist at this point, he looked at me wanting me to want him. I paused, I was so turned on at this point, so fuck it. I told him to grab a condom and we fucked hard. I wasn’t expecting him to pull my hair the way I liked it, or to pin me down and restrain me, or to rub my clit or bite my nipples the way he did as we fucked…. but he did it pretty damn well. Some guys just fuck me the way I want it; he surprised me, nothing stood out earlier in the night, but he sure can fuck.

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He came. I didn’t. He got me so close to cumming, but alas, something about the first time rarely gets me there. I have a wall up that has to be penetrated before I trust a guy to show him how vulnerable I can be and unleash my orgasm. As we laid there naked for a few minutes, I saw the time. 3:20am. I told him it was past his bedtime and he should give me a ride home.

Once he dropped me off, I walked up my four flights of stairs, got ready for bed, and passed the fuck out. He was fun, if only I kept it at just one night, he might have not gotten the name Tinder Douche.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus