Musing

I keep promising Sofia something simple, and I keep failing to deliver. The why of it is more interesting than the failure itself.

It’s cowgirl, and I’ll tell you exactly why — but there are exceptions.

My official position on failure to launch, once and for all.

I’m a word guy. So it’s not surprising that word tattoos are the ones that most often turn me on.

She asked me, mid-blowjob, what I like so much about having my cock sucked. It’s a harder question than you might think.

No one who’s met me would say I’m a “tattoo kind of guy.” But I know exactly what I’d get, and where.

What you see here is only what I let you see, at the angle I choose. The question is whether you remember that.

I don’t get off on breaking the rules. I want everyone — every lover, every partner — to be just fine with everything I do. Risk scares me. It doesn’t excite me.

Woody Allen makes me uncomfortable, and I’d rather not think about why.

Blaming addicts for their addictions is unhelpful. Judgment is just emotional dishonesty repackaged as truth.