Desire

You can’t ever get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you just might find… you get what you need. And I need.

A sex addict meditates on the five hindrances. Guess which one predominates.

I loiter on her block, phone in hand, one eye on the screen and one on the passers-by, hoping for something I’ve agreed not to pursue.

Sometimes all I want is to be hard — not to connect, not to come, but to counter a deadness deep within me with the undeniable sensation of being alive.

My body responds before my mind does, but thankfully, my mind wins every time — and it’s not virtue, it’s something deeper and darker that keeps me honest.

What gets me hard isn’t your body — it’s knowing you need me to do what I’m about to do to it.

A sexy reader asks me about desire and arousal, and I have some thoughts.

Too much eagerness to please me is, paradoxically, a turnoff. I have some theories about why.

Sofia’s right: I really am difficult. The two dangers of being desired — having instead of getting, and being wanted in the wrong amount.

The title pretty much says it.