I’m Not So Sure What This One-Night Stand Taught Me
I caught the nod he gave me with his chin toward the front door: Come outside, I want to talk to you.
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I Stumbled Upon My Dad’s Porn Stash When I Was A Kid, But What I Found On His Computer After Was Horrifying
I had already dealt with the fact that my parents had to have had sex to create me; but this was bigger than that. Did they do things like this together?
I Came For The Sex, But Didn’t Come From It
Why You Should Never Lie To A Guy At A Bar
As we near our destination, we’re stopped by three attractive strangers who hold us up long enough to necessitate introductions. I catch the gleeful look in Alex’s eye upon their approach. I know I’ve signed up for a night worth remembering, so I follow her lead as she proceeds to lie about just about everything.
The Problem With Being Earnest: The Great White Guilt
He suggested I meet him for a drink in SoHo; a curious offer on his part, given he didn’t know what I looked like. To be fair, my impression of him was based on icon-sized photos attached to social networking profiles and strings of author bios…
The Nine Tenets Of SlutLit
When it comes to the lurid details, there is a fine line between poorly written romance novels and the admittedly boring reality: sex is seldom glamorous.
Anatomy Of Rejecting A Guy I’m Using For Weed And A/C
“Hey, nice to meetcha. I’m Preston.” I give him the once-over. He’s pale and skinny, wearing leather loafers without socks and khaki shorts. His outfit is better suited for a day at the docks than an evening of East Village bar slumming.
Hooking Up With Girls At The Advent Of The Internet
The mound of soft hair beneath the cotton caught me off guard. This was my first exposure to a viable thicket of pubic hair in the wild, both intimidating and sexy now that it was attached to a young, lithe body instead of the older women changing in YMCA locker rooms.
My Best Friend’s Girl
School picked up right where it left off after Aaron moved. Fina and I spent an increasing amount of time together, lamenting the absence of our over-protective do-gooder.
The First Four Girls I Fooled Around With
I remember the shame of her mom walking in shortly thereafter and telling me I had to go home. My shame intensified when, instead of getting angry, my mother gently told me not to take my clothes off at other peoples’ houses.
