Musing

I don’t fit in among the polyamorists or the swingers — too earnest for the one crowd, not earnest enough for the other.

What if what I’ve always understood as infinite desire is actually infinite fear?

After a walk with L, I passed a tiny, curvy woman and was swamped with a very specific desire — not for her, exactly, but for the feeling of a small body yielding to my forcefulness.

Three ways I use porn, only one of which has much to do with being horny.

Family, blowjobs, women’s clothing, words, and you.

A man dies on the street outside Starbucks, and I think about sex, death, and gratitude.

Life goes on, even when it shouldn’t. Especially when it shouldn’t.

Given my druthers, I’d simply lie back and be ministered to. This makes me a boring sexual partner, but at least I’m self-aware about it.

Jillian Keenan wrote a terrific, honest exploration of her appetite for spanking in, of all places, *The New York Times*.

Less writing, less sex, less energy — but not less thinking about all three.