2012

So the part where your waist flares out into your hips is pretty fucking magical. You know that? Possible scenarios: 1) Meet for a movie. 2) Meet for chaste coffee, just chat. 3) Meet in a bar, dress as I…

Why do I write? I’ve written a bit about my exhibitionism, and exhibitionism is certainly part of it.  And I’ve written a bit about my insatiable need for approval, and, failing that, at least non-judgmental, neutral receipt of my desires.…

We pretended we didn’t know one another. Nodded curtly, politely, slightly awkwardly, as we entered the yoga studio. It looked like it was going to be just the two of us, alone with the instructor. The instructor was one of…

This is the story of my second first paid blowjob. It began with a massage, and she wanted my cock in her mouth…

You may remember L. Although our lives bring us into frequent contact, both with one another and with one another’s spouses, we haven’t fucked since January. This is a problem. It’s a problem for each of us, though each in…

In my early lap dance days, I frequented the VIP Club.  It was, as I’ve written, “classier” than the Harmony Theater, the women, more made up, better dressed.  They also, alas, had more silicone and were less prone to rub…

We don’t even have to pretend we don’t know each other, don’t recognize one another:  we don’t. I’ve given her explicit instructions – what to wear, what to do. I sit down in the theater.  It’s a midday show of…

From a tropical clime comes the picture. Palm trees, a white picket fence, visible, just beneath the rear view mirror. In the mirror? Her right hand.  The middle finger, bent, her lips enveloping it, just to the first knuckle. Her…

She sends me pictures. In the first, her lips (to me) are luscious, full, sweet-looking. She says I’m wrong, that they’re small.  But that her bottom lip is “fuller.”  They’re eminently kissable. She accepts “sweet” as a compliment. She has…

You can’t read this without having read my backstory – how I came to be here, and where here is, and, in particular, my origin myth. If you’ve read all that, or, failing that, at least this, then you know…