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She used me to come, and then she vanished. I knew she would — there were tells — but I kept the screenshots anyway.

A reader asks how I do it. The answer, in part: it’s not nearly as effortless as it looks.

A premature publication.

Sofia’s less available to me lately, for good reasons — reasons that include not knowing whose fingers first touched her pussy.

That really is all.

A woman on the street, described in the detail she deserves.

A woman on the subway.

Emily tries my patience. But then she sends me a picture of her ass, and I remember why I put up with it.

A friend offers up a motto. She’s not wrong.