Wicked Wednesday

Four modes of porn consumption, only one of which doesn’t leave me feeling like a hungry ghost.

A far-away woman sends me her orgasm, and it’s a whole different animal.

C’s delightfully compliant, and she writes about her orgasms almost as well as she has them.

A long, breathless tour of everything running through my mind on the way down, and while I’m there.

A farewell to e[lust], and to the tireless Dangerous Lilly, who made the sex blogosphere a little smaller and a lot more connected.

The list goes on.

The encounters all read the same, but they don’t feel the same. That’s a writing problem, not a living problem.

V notices the secret language of her own body on the subway.

Pubescent girls affect me in ways I wish they didn’t. Here are some thoughts about all that.

Ruts are underrated. Being on different pages — that’s the real problem.