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Liza asked me about cheating. I wince at the word — it reduces something sprawling and tragic to a single dimension of betrayal, when what I did was something far worse: I led a secret, double life.

I’ve been leaving something out of my writing, and several people have noticed.

Sometimes the best things in my inbox aren’t for me at all — they’re for you.

A portrait of the Secretary — tiny, shocking, whorish, and perfectly submissive.

A tiny frisson of validation.

The best sex writing on the internet, or at least some of it.

My trainer knows just how to motivate me.

My trainer said “good boy,” and all I could think about was throwing her around and making her earn “good girl.”

Liza asks the question this blog can never fully answer: how do you get from twelve years of secret cheating to a healthy open marriage with the same woman?

I radiate not just pleasure but craving, not just pursuit but drivenness — and that can be a little scary.