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The unsexy truth about how I schedule sex.

Luna scares me — she’s too hot, too smart, too snarky, and my desire for her is so visceral it makes me stupid and vulnerable in ways I don’t write about well.

Now you can let me hear you come without even telling me your name.

I meet, and prepare to use, Luna.

She’s tall, toned, and joyously kinky — and our date got me thinking about shame, its absence, and why I need it lurking somewhere nearby for sex to mean anything at all.

Have women been faking their orgasms for me? I’d never considered it. A snarky new interest has me wondering.

I want to see you in every stage of getting dressed — and I want every stage to remind me you’re mine.

A new woman. Blonde, full-lipped, slender, smart, demanding. I have high hopes.

A beautiful woman from Tinder tried to convert me. Not to her bed, sadly, but to astrology.

Off for the weekend. Don’t take my silence personally — I’ll be back, and so will Tinder.