2012

I know you do, because you’ve told me so. You’ve sent me texts, you’ve sent me emails. Pictures, audio files. You’ve erected a digital shrine to your desire to be fucked by me. But you’ve read these words. You know…

I want you to lie before me. I want you to open the top button of your jeans, no more. Run your hand up the inside of your thigh, tickling you just a little, as you climb your thigh toward…

Some while ago, I wrote about the perils of being both a good partner, friend, fuck buddy, and a slut. And not just a slut, but an exhibitionistic, blogging slut. At any given time, I maintain several relationships. Each is…

As the plane descends, I wonder.  I have only seen parts of her, never the whole thing.  We have never spoken, though we have corresponded extensively.  I have told myself that I’m not traveling just to see her – in…

You know how this story ends (or at least, how this part of this story ends).  I’ve summarized it all here, here, and here. Thus far in our story, as much as I’ve cheated, stolen, lied; as many women as…

The video I posted with my “Namaste” post was super-hot, right?  Well, if you liked that one, here’s another one from Equinox – same model, equally hot. AND, if you have a sense of humor – here’s a third one.…

As I walked out of my gym yesterday, a good-looking guy tripped on the doorstop that propped open the door. He bumped into me. “Sorry,” he said.  “I saw you and I lost my concentration.  Thanks!” Now, you ladies hear…

After Isabella, my cherry having been popped, I continued my descent.  (The end of the story, and its summary, can be found here, here and here – I repeat this in every post because it’s important to me that no…

… lap hungrily at your cunt, drinking you in, pushing my tongue into you, against you. While I feel my cock growing, insistently, in anticipation of replacing my tongue, of plunging into you, of bumping against your g-spot. While I…

A curious muse just accused me, in a roundabout (or not really that roundabout) way of being a fetishist of lists. Guilty. I like lists. Perhaps because I’m lazy, because constructing all the interstitial words – the verbs, conjunctions, prepositions,…