Wicked Wednesday

I keep promising Sofia something simple, and I keep failing to deliver. The why of it is more interesting than the failure itself.

She asked me, mid-blowjob, what I like so much about having my cock sucked. It’s a harder question than you might think.

The getting feels better than the having — and that realization explains more about me than I’m entirely comfortable with.

I envied Liza — her writing, her sex life, her success, her followers — and I couldn’t stop comparing myself to her.

I re-read my own blog, and I liked it. But narcissism is more complicated than vanity — especially when your self-esteem hinges on whether you’re wanted, and how much, and by how many.

An unremarkable woman on the train. Except.

It has, indeed, been too long.

The thoughts I’m having right now are *not* suitable for polite company.

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

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