Musing

I’ve written before about the origin of my name, but, as I do on this blog, from time to time, I like to revisit old subjects anew. N. My real name isn’t N. It doesn’t begin with N. When I…

And the winner is….

Turns out, there’s a term for me – not a top, not a bottom, but a side – as I prefer not intercourse, but outercourse.

I don’t really like fucking – I wish I did, but I don’t.

In which I use ChatGPT to help me think about my strip club fantasy with Serena.

Reconciling myself to the inevitability of imperfection, the certainty of loss.

A delicious sushi meal, and then, Serena and I have a night of many orgasms. Among many, many other things.

The relationship between my life and my blog, in time.

A stolen glance. Shifted perspective. And loss.

In which I realize some things about how I’m crazy, revisiting ancient wounds of loss.