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I reflect on a conversation with Margot about her unrealized fantasy of double penetration and a gangbang, realizing what excites me isn’t the act itself but the trust she’d place in me to keep her safe while curating such an evening — and the gratitude that might follow.

I wrote this in 2014, and just stumbled on it. Interesting, no? (We never had sex, but she still shows up in my various feeds.)

I was wrong about the questions my kid would ask

Rethinking an old concept

I experience connections as deep and real, but they end not in intentional closure but in disappearance. This is my compulsive repetition of courting and failing to avoid abandonment.

A candid message to Sydney, distinguishing between my general desire for cunnilingus and my specific desire for her, while framing it carefully to avoid unwelcome intrusion.

Is delightful. Delicious. And lovely.

When Margot bites her lip for me, I can’t tell what’s real – and I’ve been asking that question since I was a kid.

Nobody’s reading this anymore – or if they are, it’s through a chatbot. I miss the traffic spikes more than I want to admit.

Tina has a voice like catnip and everything else going for her – but I asked her to wear something green, and she said she was busy.