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Sex blogs, like rock bands, burn bright and flame out. I miss the ones that are gone.

An unremarkable woman on the train. Except.

A woman I’ve never met rejected me, and my body knew it before my mind did.

Over 500 posts deep, here’s a map for the newcomer — starting, naturally, with my cock.

I’ve been snooping around in my analytics again, learning what I can about you.

Twenty minutes, three feet, and not a single glance.

It has, indeed, been too long.

She flirts with me shamelessly, tells me her relationship can’t admit what mine does, and leaves me with nothing but “Damn.”

There are no right answers, but god, it’s fun to learn yours.

Google doesn’t think my name — either of my names — is real.