Commercial sex

I had an epiphany connecting my engagement with sex workers — and my uncertainty about Margot’s performativity — to my childhood in a ‘funhouse of distortion,’ raised to believe my father was straight. Wondering whether Margot is real or performing repeats the same psychic wound: never being able to trust what I saw or was told.

A momentary lapse of reason about Serena.

A delicious sushi meal, and then, Serena and I have a night of many orgasms. Among many, many other things.

In which a woman disappears on me. As so many have done. Am I wired to make women disappear?

Thinking about my relationship to fucking, handjobs, blowjobs, and… my father.

On paying for it and how it deforms my brain.

Wondering about why I don’t mind paying for porn, but I don’t want to pay YOU for porn….

Playing with Hera

Sugar babies vs. escorts

The final tantalizing, unsatisfying part of a date with Charlotte.