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.

The fantasy was me and eight or ten women. The reality was two, in black dresses, at opposite ends of a bar. My fallback position was, it turned out, pretty fucking spectacular.

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

I’d decided we should stop seeing one another. But then she pinged me, and before long, I was watching her bend down in leggings from a second-story window.

A recent exchange with the Rockette, and its satisfying conclusion.

I didn’t give the Rockette what she expected — I smiled, I asked questions, I insisted on consent — and then I left her bruised, sore, and a little scared of me.