My story

A sudden re-realization.

Another part of my mother’s abandonment of me, of my loss of safety.

Some of my thoughts about WHY I want the things I want.

My second mid-life crisis, in some greater detail.

Does sex addiction exist? Am I a sex addict? Was I a sex addict? Does it even matter what words I use to describe my experience?

I’m reminded of one of the women with whom I had a relationship back in my CPOS days. I was then as I am now in many ways: the women who sucked my cock were women I got to know,…

The very first porn I remember seeing was in a friend’s “clubhouse.” Ironically, the magazine was a “Club.” This friend was notable primarily for his insistence that, though his birthday was November 1, his real birthday was October 31, but…

I used to imagine that there was a simple explanation. To anything. To everything. I imagined, for example, that there was a simple explanation for my out-of-control sexual behavior. I thought someone (my shrink?) could just tell it to me,…

There is one thing in life I fear more than anything else. One feeling worse than any other: the pang of rejection. It is, for me, bodily. In its anticipation, my heart quickens, my chest tightens, my shoulders hunch, I…

Even more than sex, or commercial sex, during my days of “addiction,” I was compelled by web sites about sex, web sites that promised sex. There are a few categories of these, ranging from the utopian ones that promise free…