Tamora

I haven’t written much recently. Which means I have a lot of thoughts turning over in my head. [But this was from years ago….]

Tamora tells me she’s not ambivalent about me, but something’s going on because she cancels the vast majority of our dates. This one, though, she didn’t cancel. Thankfully.

“What do you like so much about my tits,” Tamora asked me. “I like your whole body!” I said. But I do really like her tits. “They’re so… soft….” I said. It’s true of her whole body. She’s not fat.…

There are a number of women with whom I’ve interacted who give me the ambivalence I seem to crave. This is an (alphabetical) chronicle of ambivalence. It’s not complete, but it’s indicative both of how I seem to inspire ambivalence,…

I’m imagining my core fantasy. First, what will you all wear? A sea of women…. Allie? Eva? The Historian? Isabel? L? Luna? Maxie? P? Penelope? The Rockette? Rose? Sadie? Sofia?!? Tamora? Veronique? You? (Those names – including yours – are…

You heard it here first (or second, or whatever.) Here’s the story. I think it’s a little sad the extent to which “Serial” was a story about Adnan Syed, and not Hae Min Lee, and funny spoofs like this one…

I said I’d name her after I filled her mouth with my cock. I changed my mind, telling her I wanted her to name herself. She refused. We were, momentarily at a standstill. We’re past that, now. I think. I…

We’ve never met. She hasn’t picked a name yet. I won’t name her unless/until I’ve filled her mouth with my cock. Tinder is what we have in common. But in no time, she was filling my inbox with the sounds…