To all my fellow bloggers and lovely followers, would you read The Boys I Encounter––the book? Are there any posts that you found most intriguing? Any that you would omit? If you have any advice or insight that may help, it would be much appreciated.
I have always thought that when I could afford to put more time into The Boys I Encounter, I would like to turn it into a book, but I also have been dealing with a lot of personal issues since the beginning of 2017 and the dust is finally starting to settle (Fingers crossed).
I have about 71,000 words written for my blog which is basically enough to write a novel… That being said, for the people who have followed my blog from the start, obviously there would be a lot of rewriting to better intersect everything into a complete ongoing story and I would also need to fill in the gaps and finish what has remained unwritten. However, sharing my story to a larger audience would be beneficial, not just to myself, but also to young women starting to explore sex and to survivors of sexual abuse.
Now––as tension about sexual assault and the #MeToo movement is stronger than ever due to the Kavanaugh accusations––I have been reflecting on my experiences and traumas. The book will follow me through my childhood curiosities, teenage hormones, a more thorough explanation of the sexually and emotionally abusive relationships I’ve endured, the aftermath of rediscovering myself, navigating casual sex post abuse, and how all the boys I encountered helped reshape how I interpret healthy sexual and romantic relationships.
If you’re reading this and you’re in an abusive relationship, know that it is never too late to escape. I know from personal experience that it may seem impossible, it may seem that you are trapped, it may seem like there is a silver lining that never comes; I’ve lived it. There is no reason for someone to hold such power over you. You are your own person. Take control of your life and remove yourself from the situation before it gets worse.
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! ❤
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?
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.
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.
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?
Shortly after I bought my njoy butt plug (See Baby Steps to Build Trust), I got The Perfect Triangle… piercing which was not so perfect. I had 8-10 weeks to heal. That meant 8-10 weeks of no oral sex, and being extra cautious of my new piercing. During this time, Neighbor Boy insisted on using the plug regularly. If I was blowing him, he’d tell me to “Grab the plug.” If we were fucking, “Grab the plug.” If I we were taking out my vibes, “Grab the plug.” If we were sexting, he’d tell me to get out my favorite vibe and “Grab the plug.” He didn’t quite push for anal, but he was eager to get me into the sensation and the idea of anal.
Almost 8 weeks of this and it was working. I was really getting into the plug so much so that I started using it on my own time as well. Sometimes, I would get wet and worked up just thinking about it. I craved the full feeling the weighted plug gave me. As 8 weeks came to a wrap, I started to bring up anal to Neighbor Boy, telling him we should try it when my piercing is healed.
There was only a short window of time anal was going to happen. I wanted my triangle to be healed, but shortly after my triangle was healed, I was getting my VCH repierced. Having oral sex on the table pre-anal was important to me. I wanted to make sure I was fully satisfied and at ease before letting him penetrate my ass.
It was late November. We were messaging as per usual, probably even sexting some, almost like our foreplay before we were supposed to hang out that evening. I brought up that we should try anal that night. He was excited, but told me he expects me to have my plug in and vibe going before he got there so I was extra worked up already.
Although I was excited, I was also anxious about the situation and him telling me to get myself ready before he got there was a huge turn off and quite aggravating. Him telling me to start playing with myself before he comes to fuck me can usually be hot, but this time, because it was to prep for anal, it was more upsetting than a turn on.
I told him I wanted him to come eat me and crank up the foreplay and ease me into it. I explained to him I’ve had a bad experience with anal before (kind of alluding to what happened without directly saying I was raped by Roid Douche yet) and that him helping me be comfortable and relaxed beforehand would be very important.
Well… this conversation quickly went south. I was getting more and more anxious and upset and kept pushing what I wanted and he got frustrated and said that “It’s starting to sound like work and I’m not really feeling it for tonight anymore.” Which of course pushed me over the edge and the night was canceled, at least for the moment.
Because of this, I met up with my gay hubby. We went and got coffee and I vented. The more I vented, the more I realized how stupid the argument was. Yes, he was being an asshole, but my anxiety and frustration wasn’t fully explained to him. I was basically freaking out and he (unaware of what actually happened to me) was responding poorly to my unexplained pushiness.
It was an unseasonably warm November day for Chicago. Although anal was off the table, I texted him to say we should take advantage of the nice weather and fuck on the roof because it was probably our last opportunity before Spring. We put our anal argument on pause to talk more about it later and agreed to finally have the roof sex we’ve been talking about since day one.
When he came up, I grabbed a condom and we went straight up to the roof. I locked the roof door behind us, a cautionary measure taken to buy us a little time if someone tried to come up. After some brief making out, he told me to turn around, lift my dress, drop my panties, and bend over on the edge of the roof. I complied. He kissed my inner thighs and made his way to my pussy with his tongue, teasing me, getting me worked up, just barely tasting me.
Right when I thought he’d lick my clit, he stood up, dropped his pants, and put the condom on. He started out slowly inserting his dick little by little, making me want to push my hips back into his. With every thrust he went a little deeper and a little quicker until he was fucking me at that perfect pace. As he fucked me, I looked over the ledge, my heart racing, partially because a slight fear of heights, partially because the adrenaline rushing thinking about how anyone could look up from the street and see me bent over the ledge.
After a few minutes of this rush, he pulled out, laid on the roof and told me to ride him. I listened, straddled him, and rode his cock. He finished, I didn’t. I kissed him softly, then stood up and put my panties back on. He took the condom off and put on his pants. As we walked back inside and headed down the back stairs, he tied up the condom, and shoved it in a pocket of the drooping ceiling. I didn’t realize this until we got back to my room and he told me.
Once back in my room, after he divulged the condom ceiling information and I scolded him, I told him a little more about Roid Douche, I didn’t go into detail, but gave him enough to help him understand why I was upset about our earlier anal discussion. He told me he understood and wants me to be comfortable and wants to make sure it’s something I enjoy.
I want to trust him. I want to be able to get over this fear I have. I want to let go of the past. I want to move on.
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.
So this happened today… Neighbor Boy and I have been talking about finding a third (male or female) or a couple to add to our fun. We literally just joined Feeld today, but hours before I even got our profile up and running, I got a random message from some guy I don’t know on kik.
Only a few messages later, I found out he lives in Chicago, he’s bi, and some of his kinks so I couldn’t resist to ask if he’d be down for a threesome with Neighbor Boy and I.
And just like that, I magically found a third. Not only that, but I might have some fun on the side with Kik Boy. We will see what happens when I meet him. And of course, I will fill you in on all the dirty details.
Something about me screams sex apparently because I have sex falling from the sky.
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.