or Celebrating This Month’s Great Sex Sound Bytes

Think outside the boxer shorts.

I don’t believe any single person can say what women want, but I can say with certainty that women do want.

Even 19 year old strippers only get to be that for one year.

If you’re trying to get a little romance in the air, getting or giving flowers or just having them around could help create that atmosphere. Nothing so nice as subliminal advertising you can pluck off a bush for free.

When you’ve done all your consent and communication just right–when the sex is exactly what you asked for and your partner is trying hard to do it just the way you like–it’s tough to turn around and go “er… it’s not working.” You feel like you’re being infuriatingly fussy.
But when your body’s being fussy, you’re just the messenger. I have a generally reliable orgasm machine in my pants, and even so, there are some days it’s like trying to feed a cat. “You liked this sex last week. You liked it so much that I went out and got a whole case of it. And now you won’t touch it? You’re impossible.”

Love and sex, like milk and cookies, pair well; but neither is required for the enjoyment of the other.

A pain greater than pain. The pain of no pain. The pain of enough. The pain of full.
Which then turns into a tributary of why bother? And further descends into nothing matters.

Having to say, “Do you want to come over only to fuck.” Nothing else please. I feel like I am in a restaurant and I have to agree to marry the chef in order to get some damned chicken.

I am going to flat out say it: Polyamory is ahead of its time. I predict that in the future it is an identity/politic that more people will choose.

Just the other day a woman sent him a pic of her pussy, and then requested a picture of his cock (SOLICITED COCK SHOT), but he declined, stating, “The first time you see my cock will be right before it goes in your mouth.” And that’s exactly what happened!