Fingering

White clothes, a river breeze, and twelve couples stripping down at a landmark.

A hot night at Le Trapeze. On this evening, I departed from my usual habit of limiting my sexual activity to my date….

A little written orientation on the care and feeding of my cock.

The tables turn, and I’m reminded: don’t be a biter.

A belt between your teeth, my tongue between your thighs, and a tap-tap-tap safe signal we both hope you won’t use.

She’s self-conscious about her grey hair. I have some ideas about that.

A love letter to pubic hair, and a plea for neatness.

My favorite kind of multiple-choice question, and the answer key that followed.

My relationship to money and desire, and the ingenious, self-defeating system I built to get the former without risking the latter.

The Historian sent me her journal entries from our weekend in Miami. The fucking was hot, but the feelings were hotter.