Memory or fantasy?

Sometimes the best encounters last just long enough to leave you hard the rest of the night.

A late-night conversation that didn’t end nearly soon enough.

She told me she wouldn’t fuck me. I told her to take it back. We’ve recovered nicely.

She wanted the offer, not the items on offer.

A meditation on one of my favorite body parts.

Lilly delivers another orgasm for our listening pleasure — and throws in a visual tease for good measure.

She rejected my choreography, and I was grateful. Then I pushed her against a roll-down gate and listened to my cock instead of my brain.

What a difference a couple of hours make.

A late-night inventory of preferences, stripped to single words.

A polite request, or several.