N. Likes

Two flavors of shame — and neither is better, neither is harder.

I imagined, for just a nanosecond, outing myself as non-monogamous to a table of straight professionals. The moment passed.

Wallace Stevens — my favorite insurance executive — on concupiscent curds and horny feet.

The getting feels better than the having — and that realization explains more about me than I’m entirely comfortable with.

A partial catalog of things I like, and a clue to my name.

The final installment of this particular fantasy — in which she finally gets the words right.

A brief, lovely encounter with a woman whose personality I drank in even more than her looks.

You didn’t listen the first time. You’ll learn.

The orgasm is mine, not yours.

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