April 2013

I have a couple of superpowers. One, apparently, is empathy.

Ten more instructions for you.

A haiku for the sleeping woman next to me.

A detailed account of precisely how I’d like you to suck my cock.

An open letter to Hyacinth, on the surprising difficulty—and arousal—of trying to write someone wet from 1,500 miles away.

A slow, detailed striptease I’d like you to perform for me.

A blog crush, a challenge, and the promise of more.

Interrogating the hydraulics of not being turned on.

The good people at n+1 want to know about your relationship with porn.

Anthony Weiner’s problem wasn’t his cock. It was that nobody in Congress liked him.