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Lilly La Fosse returns with her sixth orgasm recording — and this time, there’s cursing.

It’s Frisky Friday again — show me what you’ve got.

Ham sandwiches, a $5 dress, and a hotel room with an inscrutable man behind plexiglas.

When I wrote this discussion of a GQ profile of Deen, we didn’t know him to be a rapist. Or at least, a poor handler of a rape accusation.

Rules are less important than communication — before, during, and after. And caution on a first visit will be repaid with a much better second one.

A far-away woman sends me her orgasm, and it’s a whole different animal.

A friend needs help I can’t give her. Maybe you can.

White clothes, a river breeze, and twelve couples stripping down at a landmark.

Two perspectives, one column: Liza and I are launching a joint advice venture, because every question deserves both a monogamist’s and a slut’s answer.

Before I tell you about the boat, T and I need to negotiate what our son might one day read — and somehow that leads to the word “Daddy,” Oedipus, and my mother.