“This Is Not The Bachelor. And I Don’t Have To Kiss Your Ass For A Rose”

– Phaedra Parks –

First dates are always financially tricky. When that tall, suave dude in his fancy tuxedo saunters over with that ominous black leather billfold, everyone at the table goes into panic mode. It’s an opportunity for a power play that gets your brain into overdrive. Is this dinner worth the investment? Will grabbing the bill imply I think they’re broke? Are they just here for the free meal?

Like I said, this shit is complicated. 

Call me old-fashioned, but I HATE splitting the bill on the first date. I believe the person who initiates the first date should offer to pay for, at the very least, the first date. Fuck the traditional gender norm; if a woman wants to take a man on a date and offers to pay for his drinks, that’s hot. Because personally, there is nothing less sexy than arriving home to a Venmo request.

Continue reading ➞ LXVIII. The Guy Who Sent Me A Venmo Request

“It was good to put your weight on someone else, even if it was just for a short while”

– Douglas Stuart, Young Mungo –

The appeal of living dangerously is the myriad possibilities of captivating stories you can retell. It’s a memory that marks your presence in the world, a footprint of your desire to explore the infinite parallel universes life can offer. And isn’t it a beautiful thing? To be able to tell the world you’re courageous enough to walk the roads less traveled? To allow yourself to feel the thrills and sorrows of life? And who am I to say no to such an alluring mystery when it’s presented to me by a smoldering hot gentleman riding a Harley-Davidson bike?!

Continue reading ➞ LXVII. The Guy Whom I Blew In The Woods (Harley-Davidson Guy: Part I)

“What happened to ‘Hello’, ‘How are you?’, ‘My name is’. What happened to that?”

– Shereé Whitfield –

We’ve all been in a situation where we’re on vacation with people who are not supportive of our hoe lifestyle. It’s especially tricky when you’re sharing a room and have no safe space to properly get plowed by a random stranger. Then add an unnecessarily busy holiday agenda to the mix, and you have yourself a weeklong hell with no dick to mount. Lucky for you, I am here to teach you some tricks you can maneuver to get your regular “vitamin D” fix while still maintaining a healthy relationship with your heteronormative family. For this to work, all you need is determination, creativity, and a shit ton of prayers.

Because, let’s face it. If you’re attempting to follow these pieces of advice, you probably need some sort of divine intervention.

Continue reading ➞ LXVI. The Guy Whom I Took To The Hotel Lobby Bathroom In Singapore

“I’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.”

– Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo –

During a cold shower on a mediocre afternoon in lockdown, I was brave enough to dream of the post-pandemic world. I dreamed of living in a universe where the virus didn’t affect our lives anymore. I promised myself that when it happened, I needed to be courageous, unafraid to feel everything that the world threw my way. To embrace a warm touch, to ache from heartbreaks, and to dance the pain away — I wanted to experience them all. I promised myself to savor each moment as if everything I had in life would disappear after the sun rose. I promised myself to be authentic, to enjoy every moment the way I would have wanted to.

When that dream was suddenly about to come true, I was overwhelmed. I felt like a domesticated puppy living in a golden cage about to be thrown into a concrete jungle. I was not, physically and mentally, ready for New York.

My butthole certainly wasn’t ready.

Continue reading ➞ LXIV. The Seven Guys I Met In New York

“I don’t know why my body is so intent on sabotaging my brain when my brain is perfectly capable of sabotaging itself”

– Alma Wheatley, The Queen’s Gambit –

What makes sex awful for you?

I am personally a big fan of intimacy and passion. Many people love to talk shit about the missionary position and call anyone who loves it a boring-ass bitch, but I couldn’t care less about what other people think. If that’s what it takes to get myself some much-needed love and affection, I don’t mind being called a basic twink. What can I say… I’m a sucker for elaborate conversations under a weighted blanket with a semi-attractive gentleman who cares about my aspirations in life. But obviously, this is LA that we’re talking about, a city filled with self-centered people trying everything they can to claw their ways to stardom. Waiting to develop a deep emotional connection with someone in LA is like waiting for Rihanna to release new music in 2021.

That was why, most days, instead of dealing with another big dick with an intolerable personality, I preferred staying at home and viciously flicking my bean to some amateur porn.

Continue reading ➞ LXIII. The Guy Whom I Played Beer Pong With

“Maybe I’ll move away. Start somewhere new, I’ll let you have L.A.”

– Gryffin feat. Katie Pearlman –

I can’t pinpoint one exact reason why I wanted to leave Los Angeles. It’s a place where I began to discover the kaleidoscopic facets of my adulthood, my sexual desires, and, most importantly, love. I developed long-lasting relationships with some of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered and created fond memories that I still cherish to this day. I fell in love with the city almost instantly— all corners of its vibrant streets were filled with an abundance of unceasing excitement. LA made me believe I was capable of anything; to be whoever I want to be, to be free. For a while, I had no desire to ever leave. Los Angeles will forever have a special place in my heart.

Continue reading ➞ LXII. The Guy Who Made Me Leave L.A. (The ParTy Series: Part IV)

“Even annoyance was part of the pleasure we took in each other”

– Garth Greenwell, Cleanness –

Dear the person responsible for giving out official names to all sex positions,

First of all, how did you come up with all these weird-ass names? For example, doggy style. What made you think it’s a good idea to draw inspiration from the way dogs reproduce? I did quick research before writing this chapter, and I learned there are way too many obscure sex positions out there. Like… The Wanton Wheelbarrow. What in the bloody hell is that?! And how does any sane human being find any enjoyment in this torturous position? I always seek for pleasure in sex, not trying to break a couple of bones.

Call me a boring bitch or whatever, but I’m perfectly content with the good ole’ missionary position. What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic after all.

Continue reading ➞ LXI. The Guy Who Put The Dog In Doggy Style

“What? You don’t love me for my subtlety”

– Julia Quinn, Bridgerton –

Let’s talk about public sex. Generally, being naked in public is fantastic — exposing your body in its most primally vulnerable state to our mother nature can be liberating as fuck. But don’t get me wrong… I’m not an exhibitionist (I’m not trying to kink shame any of you). Unless you’re Timothée Chalamet, I detest the idea of my flat ass being objectified by some creepy dudes. And don’t get me started with my overwhelming stage fright and riddling anxiety of having strangers judge my dick-riding prowess. That said, public sex could be a truly magical adventure that I wish all of you could experience one day. Let’s just say that the only thing stopping me from blowing a stranger’s dick at the beach is the fear of going to jail for public indecency.

Does anyone want to buy me a private island with a pristine white beach where I can have biweekly, obnoxiously loud sex on?

Continue reading ➞ LX. The Guy Who Blew Me By The Beach