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Two simple ways to inspire me — and what happens when you do neither.

A text exchange in which I try to make her pussy wet between meetings.

Two brunettes, separately sexy, together fucking hot.

She flew too close to the sun — not me, but her own desire — and then she was gone.

A note to a woman I haven’t yet met.

The monthly roundup of the smartest and hottest sex bloggers, all under one roof.

If my cock isn’t hard, I start to wonder if I’m still alive.

Thirty minutes, no internet, and too many options. This is not a humble brag — it’s a genuine crisis.

Three words that contain a whole fantasy.

Can it really be that polyamory sits exactly halfway between cowboy and missionary on the religiousness scale?