Remember my last newsletter? The one where I announced my late August Dallas trip and asked if you wanted to read my diary?
That wasn’t hyperbole. It was a promise disguised as a question.
And I hope the answer was yes, because every day for the next ten days, I’m tracking my lust for your voyeuristic pleasure: shifts in pressure, sexual relationships ended, and lightning bolts of passion.
Dreams that distract and fantasies that linger. It will be filthy at times.
This is not an essay, but rather a fragmented stream of sexual consciousness. And here’s how it works: Rather than flood your inbox with ten separate emails, I’ll update this exact post every day with a new entry.
There will be zero edits, aside from redactions for privacy. This experience will feel fluid and ever-evolving. It will drip with desire, and every vignette will be our secret.
Saturday, July 19th
This morning I woke up and came to the thought of him on his stomach, between my legs. Stroking himself while eating me out. Then I went to the gym and felt sexually frustrated. I always feel this way when Mercury is in retrograde.
I’ve listened to Young Lady, You’re Scaring Me five times today, which isn’t helping. Best song I’ve found in ages. The sound makes me want to fuck. I’ll have to play this when I ravage (name) again in a few days.
Blond. Tall. His face is all angles and a furrowed brow. He reminds me of an ectomorphic (name 1). Possibly married? I can’t tell, and it doesn’t matter, because he’s the perfect distraction for the next hour.
I felt the intensity of his eyes the moment he walked into (place). He caught me off guard and I did a double take.
His gaze made me wet and jarred me out of thinking about how I’ve finally, successfully broken it off with (name 2). And about how I’ll miss his mouth.
Anyway, fuck. I desperately need to get laid. I hate being this feral when my playthings are out of reach. Might have to wait for (name 3). But it will be worth the wait. He always is.
Oh, here’s blond stranger again. Married. He’s intense, and tonight, I’ll cum thinking about him bending me over this table.
Sunday, July 20th
Heard from (name 1) last night. He’s back in the US last minute and wants to get together tomorrow. Won’t happen, as I already have plans with (name 2).
I think it’s cute that he still calls me “Oasis”. And I think it would be hot if I could get both of them at the same time. Been far too long since my mfm night with The Germans.
Alas…
Monday, July 21st
All I want is to be on my knees. Soon. A matter of minutes.
Tuesday, July 22nd
I love when he tells me to surprise him. Maybe this time, after he gets me off, I’ll tie him up, make HIM cum, then force him to listen to The Mountain Goats. Who doesn’t like The Mountain Goats?? If he can’t escape then, maybe he’ll learn to love them.
Wednesday, July 23rd
I loved watching him last night. Watching us together. And any man who claims he’s more visual than me during sex is wrong. The way his stomach tightens under my touch. The way he twitches and grows and drips.
Thursday, July 24th
Can’t believe I’m saying this, but today was too busy and mundane to be remotely erotic. My brain was elsewhere.
But I did eat a cup of black cherries, an endive salad, and a perfectly seared steak for dinner, and that was nearly sexual. Time for bed. Too sleepy to cum.
Friday, July 25th
This morning, I came to the memory of the last time (name) and I were together. The way his beard felt. His hands…
Saturday, July 26th
I can’t watch a man do certain stretches without wondering what it would feel like to peg him in said position. Horny, kinky gym rat.
Sunday, July 27th
Just heard Better Than Ezra’s Good for the first time in a while, and it made me think of (name).
Now I’m smiling… remembering that post-coital joke he once made. We’d just cum when it came on.
He rolled onto his side to face me, asking, “Was that good?”
When I said yes, he followed up with “Was it Better Than Ezra?”
I kissed him and called him a dork.
