I want thirty more minutes of her time, and I know exactly how I want her to spend them.

Sofia’s pussy used to be mine. Now it’s not — or not entirely. The story of how that happened, and how we both feel about it.

Sofia weighs in on the question of whether the orgasms women send me are “real.”

The things I want from the women in my life are remarkably consistent, and that consistency can feel, to each of them, like a diminishment.

Sofia sent me photos, and I narrated my way through them, one by one, my cock hardening as I went.

I’ve been keeping Sofia on the edge for almost a week now. Everything I ask, she does. Should I let her come?

I meant what I said, but maybe not how you heard it.

I’ve never met Sofia, but I know her body — in fragments, in parts — better than I know most faces I see every day.

Sofia makes the best porn I’ve ever seen — and she makes it just for me.

What I mean by “responsive” isn’t what you think I mean.