Instructions

A hotel room, a pillowcase, a tie, a belt, and a dress that doesn’t survive the evening.

T and I find ourselves with rare, kid-free hours, and spend them in a tangle of laptops, oral sex, emailed fantasies, and the complicated arithmetic of compersion.

Desire is strange: compliance medicates a deep, dark wound, and photo #126 of her ass is every bit as thrilling as the first.

A late-night conversation that didn’t end nearly soon enough.

She told me she wouldn’t fuck me. I told her to take it back. We’ve recovered nicely.

Liza dreamed I gave her directions on how to fuck D. I’m happy to make dreams come true.

Lilly delivers another orgasm for our listening pleasure — and throws in a visual tease for good measure.

A polite request, or several.

You walk into a bar to meet me for the first time, wearing exactly what I told you to wear.

Yes, I’ll fuck you. But not before you’ve earned it.