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If my cock isn’t hard, I start to wonder if I’m still alive.

Thirty minutes, no internet, and too many options. This is not a humble brag — it’s a genuine crisis.

Three words that contain a whole fantasy.

Two women I barely knew talked about me behind my back. No one did anything wrong, but it left me feeling exposed and a little sick.

The scent of trouble, then and now.

She’s young, she’s pretty, she’s compliant but not perfectly so, and I need her mouth on my cock — but there are complications.

The title is misleading. Or is it?

That’s what she said.

Gay magazines in the barber shop, right next to the Playboy. We’ve come a long way from Johns’.

A reader writes something that stops me in my tracks.