An alphabetical catalogue of the women who blow hot and cold — and what that says about me.

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

Emily did her homework. She didn’t follow the instructions precisely, but she knocked the cover off the ball — with one notable correction needed: always wear panties.

Emily lives far away, but she sent me four pictures in a black dress and boyshorts. Not enough, and not quite what I asked for — but that last shot of her ass made the teasing almost bearable.

Emily’s young, she’s hot, and she’s convinced she’s bad at fucking. I’m not worried.

Jealousy follows no rational rules.

The happy circle of attention and compliance, and the women who break it.

Emily sends me self-destructing nudes on Snapchat to protect herself, but won’t send the clothed photos I actually want by e-mail.