My heart was broken again. I wanted to ask you what’s not good enough about me. What are you looking for? Am I too kind, or am I too generous? The first time I touched you, I felt your remarkable open heart. That instant feeling of cozy safety had never happened to me before. My
I went to pho with my dear friend. We were sitting outside, eating delicious soup. My friend gave me their basil; I gave them my cilantro. Probably that’s love, that considerate sharing of resources. I thought of my not-quite-ex, the one I loved before, and what she gave me: my recent situationship. She was the
My spouse and I went to a hot springs, and it was my first time in a clothing optional space. Well, the sex parties we enjoy are clothing optional. But this was more nudity and felt different. Strangely, it felt sexier at the hot springs than the sex parties.–at least our first visit on a
I wanted to tell you about the hot springs that my spouse and I visited in California last month. But on accident, I got swept up writing about power dynamics among queer people. So this post is just the gay part of the hot spring post that I hope to finish soon. costuming How do
Going down on my spouse’s ass was more emotional than I ever could have imagined. So much I learned, I had no idea I would learn. Previously I thought assholes were embarrassing and dirty. I had no idea they can be tender, sweet, vulnerable places to deeply love. It’s like I discovered a whole new
content warning: This post centers the word faggot, which some find offensive. faggot My spouse and I and our homegirl were on a road trip. On the freeway, headed north–strangely, I was driving. Driving is not something I do much. A motorcycle was behind me for a long time. “Do you think it’s a pig?”
This poem “bitch” is the artifact of intense longing. Much reverence to the feelers of big feelings, truth tellers, and kinkster sexonauts. bitch I wanted you to turn your vehicle around, take me to the forest, pin me down on the earth, and see how many times you could make me cum. on the dirt
When you left here, it was messy and painful. Your choice to have sex with our housemate was part of that. I think you anticipated a fun, hot, lighthearted encounter. Maybe no one would know. Probably you had zero idea what the consequences would be. I’m sorry you made that choice. I hope sex with
I love queer sex, and am not keen on straight sex. But maybe it’s a false distinction? That’s what I’m pondering today. I think of queer sex as dynamic–it changes mid-scene and over the years creative–we have to do different things than insert a tab into a slot showing up as my whole self transformative–it
There’s so much I learned at the sex party. I wrote that long post about it, but I left a lot out. I want to write about queerness at the sex party because that’s one of the things that I was paying attention to and that matters the most. age I have a cliche that