This isn’t at all a summary of the post, but it’s hot, nonetheless: this week, I imagined a world in which V might once again suck my cock.

I line you all up against a hotel wall and let my imagination do what it does best.

Two of Rose’s orgasms — one quiet, one not so quiet. Both delicious.

Swanky bar, arctic char, Scotch, self-satisfied finance bros, and Rose — who’s moving away, and whose cock-sucking I intend to savor.

Rose comes for you. Twice.

The interstices, the lacunae, and the trajectories — that’s where the heat is. Here, I pick up where I left off with Rose.

The story of my evening with Rose and Penelope, told in reverse. We’re at the part where Penelope walks through the door.

The logistics of assembling a group encounter, and a candid note on the difference between gently preferring something and dangerously needing it.

From a reverie about a threesome to a 911 call in the back of a cab.

Rose and I check into the Liberty Inn, Room 101, past the bullet-proof glass and the vending machine selling condoms and M&Ms.