February 2024

I want you thinking of me, always.

A fun date looms.

I can’t write about this woman. Your loss. And mine.

A platonic dinner with Charlotte, capped off with a good kiss in the street, and an orgasm sent just a few minutes after we separated.

About to have some yummy sushi with Charlotte.

Brooklyn shoots – and comes – for me.

“We are never unfaithful, we are just sometimes faithful in ways we don’t like.”

Giving Cleo some options as to how to earn some information about our upcoming date.

In which I, maybe?, get caught stealing an unwelcome glance.

A suspension of paeans, and a replacement of them with wisdom from others.