N. Likes

This isn’t all the ways I want to lick your pussy. But it is ten ways I want to lick your pussy. Please. (You won’t regret it.)

Ice, wax, and a splayed 20-something — and then a pause to reckon with everything that means.

A listicle, of sorts.

V tells her side of the story, starting with bourbon, buttons, and a text at 10:01.

I’m unnervingly talented at engineering the rejection I claim to fear most.

A evening of teasing, denial, and a loud orgasm on a quiet street.

I’ve finally learned not to give my wife a blender on Valentine’s Day.

Tell me what you like. Tell me what you don’t. Just hit the stars — no interaction required.

The encounters all read the same, but they don’t feel the same. That’s a writing problem, not a living problem.

An odd confession for a sex blogger: the sex is the least interesting part.