March 2012

My voice is just too identifiable — and Google’s getting smarter every day.

My origin story, retold — how lap dances, fear of rejection, and an endless appetite for contact sent me down a path I’m still mapping.

Violet Blue said what I meant, but much more better.

A friend tells me I come across as predatory. I’m defensive about it, but I’m listening.

Ten sexual favors I’d put on tokens to cash in — and I just might.

I tell her what I want; she gives it to me. Thousands of miles away.

I want to dress you. And undress you. And in between, a chocolate croissant.

She was the first woman who seemed not to be reluctantly agreeing, but aggressively pursuing, sex. We fucked seven times.

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