phone sex

Monthly Faves: Leather Leashes & Deft Doctors

Kate Sloan

Summer has finally sprung in Toronto! I had a lot of sweaty sex this month… which is… good, I guess? Here were some things I loved in May!

Sex toys

• Did you know that the VixSkin Mustang is a wonderful blowjob dildo? Sometimes my boyf wants to hear BJ sounds when we have phone sex – and to drop me into subspace in the way that only a dick hitting the back of my throat can do – and this beautiful dildo fits the bill.

• Betty’s Toy Box sent me the Icicles #69 dildo a while ago and I’ve been enjoying it. Full review to come eventually, but here’s the TL;DR: it does good A-spot things but I wish it was longer so I’d have more of a handle for easier thrusting!

• My Sir ordered me some custom items from L’Amour-Propre a while ago and one of them was a leash in blue suede that matches my collar. (Did you know that Tal, who runs L’Amour-Propre, is super great about custom orders? Contact them, they’re lovely!) While the leash has been fun in its traditional uses – to keep me in line while I’m giving head or shining my Sir’s shoes, for example – we also experimented recently with swinging it back and forth in front of my eyes like a pendulum as part of a hypnosis induction. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m forever amazed by the ingenuity of kinksters!

Fantasy fodder

• So, I’m having a lot of phone sex as per usual, but this month I’ve been thinking about it less as a replacement for IRL sex I wish I was having and more as its own wonderful thing. Sometimes when I’m masturbating alone, I even imagine my partner is muttering darkly in my ear. Interesting how some kinks develop out of necessity and are nonetheless super fun to play with.

• Fantasies about hysteria doctors are frequent for me, but this month I was idly imaginin’ and the doctor in my mind’s eye said, “I make you come so much harder than your husband ever does…!” Usually in these fantasies, I’m just me, rather than becoming the archetypal Victorian housewife often represented in stories about hysteria treatment – but hey, sometimes it’s fun to go a little more literal than usual.

• I tried watersports for the first time this month. OMG. It was a pretty mild introduction to this wet-‘n’-wild kink – my Sir pissed on my chest in the shower after we’d been discussing doing this for a few weeks – but felt vulnerable and sweet and hot. More to come, I would imagine!

Sexcetera

• Some of my work elsewhere this month: I have an article in the new issue of The Walrus about how sex robots could shape our sexual future. I wrote a squirting guide for Ignite. On our podcast, Bex and I talked about age play, porn, loving communication, altered states, and Bex’s first year on testosterone.

• I bought some plastic hooks with which to hang impact toys on my wall and they make me so happy. I own so many beautiful toys; why not display ’em?

Media

• I was thrilled this month to get to see The Artist & the Pervert, the new documentary about kink educator Mollena Williams and her 24/7 D/s dynamic with her husband and Master, world-famous composer Georg Friedrich Haas. It presented kink as romantic and normal, which, naturally, I found very charming!

• Melissa Broder, of @SoSadToday fame, has a new book out called The Pisces. I’ll have way more thoughts about the book for you here on Monday; for now, just know that I loved it, and if you’ve ever struggled with feeling addicted to romantic or sexual stimuli – or you find mermen attractive – you might like it too.

• Some people in my life have been experiencing emotional abuse lately so I wanted to do some research on it to better understand how abusers operate. I found this book on covert emotional manipulation tactics enlightening; maybe you will too! And if you’re at the point of wanting to stand up to an abuser in your life, this book of scripts is super helpful and practical.

• In case you missed it: my fave show, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, was cancelled by Fox this month and then promptly picked up by NBC in the wake of an outcry from fans. I’m so, so pleased that this show will continue. While you’re waiting for new episodes, why not read some of my B99 fanfiction?

Femme stuff

• Vintage Leather by West Third Brand smells exactly how you would expect a fragrance called “Vintage Leather” to smell. It’s a little masc and very sexy and I’m into it.

• My boyf paid for me to get a pedicure, something I haven’t done in a long-ass time, and it was such a lovely treat. Plus I enjoyed bonding with my pedicurist over a shared disdain for unsolicited dick pics.

• I’m working on a part 2 of my blowjob lipsticks post! Leave your recommendations in the comments if you’ve got ’em.

Little things

Nerding out about Sondheim with my extended family. Catching up with my bruddy. Seeing two SNL-related documentaries in one day with my mom. Sir ordering me a cookie so I’d have something to snack on while he talked to me on the phone from New York. Sex T-Rex shows. Solo sushi dinners. Getting recognized in public. Drinks dates with femme pals. Affixing romantic memorabilia to a corkboard on my wall, like the sentimental dork that I am. Feminist stand-up comedy. Interviewing kink geniuses for the podcast. Spanakopita and love letters in a mini Moleskine. A perfect gin and tonic on a sunny day. Our cute waiter at a Mexican restaurant asking, “Are you guys chefs?” Being vastly overdressed for a dinner-and-improv date. Sleeping in a T-shirt from the hotel where my boyfriend first told me he loved me.

10 Thoughts From Really, Really Good Phone Sex

Kate Sloan

1. I can never quite identify when our casual catch-up conversations end and our phone sex begins. It’s not like in-person sex where beginnings are delineated by a particularly passionate kiss or a deliberately incendiary touch; it’s subtler than that. Sometimes I muse aloud from my bed, almost absentmindedly, “My skin is so soft tonight,” and his voice drops half an octave as he counters, “Oh yeah?” Sometimes we’re talking about Sex Things we’d like to do and they suddenly become Sex Things we are doing right now. Sometimes his voice just hits me the right way, renders me all melty-hot and small, and I make a squeaky submissive sound he recognizes, and we’re off to the races. I never remember quite how it began. It’s the least important detail of all, anyway.

2. I thought I didn’t like phone sex. I was resistant to those whispered words and breathy moans, paltry stand-ins for the embodied touches I craved. But I guess I just never knew anybody who could talk like this boy does.

It’s not like he’s really touching me; it’s not like he’s in the room with me. That would be an oversimplification of what this interaction feels like, what it means. “I can’t be there to fuck you physically,” he tells me one night, “but I try to take care of the psychological side of things.” That’s exactly what it is: he is fucking my brain, while I fuck my own body.

3. Identifying and understanding someone’s kinks is an underrated skillset. It’s one thing to know how someone likes to be fucked or choked or slapped; it’s quite another to know why they like these things, how these things make them feel, the words and phrases and images that flash through their mind when they’re getting off. It’s shockingly intimate to know a person that well.

And know me, he does. He keeps a “mental model” of me, he says, and updates it each time he learns something new about what gets me panting and dripping. He also keeps literal notes on me, in an app on his phone, because he is a nerd – but I think he barely refers to them anymore; he doesn’t need to. When you’ve fucked someone over the phone as many times as he has fucked me over the phone, and you really listen, you learn which phrases make them purr. You memorize when each particular moan will happen and what it denotes. You develop strategies for pushing them over the edge, and you sharpen your approach until it glimmers. Shockingly intimate, indeed.

4. But it’s not just his words. It’s his voice. So boyish and goofy when we’re joking around. So helpless and smitten when we’re confessing our love. So dark and oaky when he’s dominating me from afar. I could melt into it. I could dissolve in it. I often do.

5. “There is no one else I’d rather be in a long-distance relationship with,” I told him once. What I meant was: we are both verbal, and auditory, and kink-nerdy, and digitally savvy, and all those things combine to make a connection that can thrive through texting and phone calls and giggly FaceTime convos. Only a certain type of person could carry on this type of relationship in this electrically connective manner, and I’m so glad I found one in this world. Phone sex with him is not a stand-in for what I want. It is what I want. Or part of what I want, anyway.

6. The first time he wanted to slap me through the phone, I balked a little. Hurting myself, even at his behest, felt off somehow – a farcical facsimile of the thing we both really wanted: his hand arcing through the air again and again to redden my cheek. But I had trusted him with so much already and it made sense to trust him on this, too.

We experimented with different approaches, and, as two communication nerds are wont to do, eventually found what works best for us. He tells me to place my hand on my face. He tells me what intensity he wants these next impacts to be, on a scale from 1 to 10. And then, when we’re ready, he says: “Now.”

It always surprises me how readily my hand responds to him, as though possessed by his dark dominance from hundreds of miles away. Rationally, I know I could decide not to hit myself, if I didn’t want to do it. But I want to do it. So I always do. And it tugs me down into subspace almost as fast as his slaps do when he is there to give them.

7. We sometimes use the word “snowglobey” to describe time we spend together. It’s that feeling when you and your sweetheart are locked in a close moment, fleetingly frozen, and nothing outside your connection seems to exist. Time stretches endlessly, and it’s also over before you know it. You’re insulated. Embroiled. Snowglobey.

I have a bad habit of checking my phone when I’m supposed to be focusing on other things (these days, don’t we all?) but my mind doesn’t wander when his voice is fucking me. I forget that Twitter and Facebook and Slack exist. You only know what a big deal that is if you, too, live a phone-focused life. If you do, then you know it is a huge deal.

What a gift to give someone: some distraction-free minutes of pleasure, riveting and riveted. What a beautiful gift my love gives to me when he weaves stories so absorbing, I forget my body ever knew anything but bliss.

8. He murmurs filthy things about what he would do to me if he was here, but – vitally – he also tells me what to do to myself, right now.

He chooses my sex toys for me, and decides when each can come into play. He tells me how to use them: “Harder.” “Faster.” “Deeper.” He can tell how well I’m following his directions by the sounds I make. “Deeper than that. Almost. There you go.” It’s his mastery of me, as much as his dominant directives, that renders me a submissive puddle for him. I always do what he says, because if I don’t, he will know – and if I do, I will come. He will make sure that I do.

9. You would think that the orgasms would feel the way they do when I jerk off: quick, easy, small, predictable, perfunctory.

They don’t. They feel the way they do when he fucks me IRL: momentous and monumental, never quite expected, knocking me over like a wave. Afterwards, I lie there, cunt pulsing, breath slowing, all the energy and stress drained out of me. I listen to the rhythms of his voice and his breath, syncing with mine, floating back to earth, and I feel a peace and a connection I only ever previously knew while curled up against someone’s chest after they fucked the life out of me. I never knew I could get here without touching him at all. But here we are.

10. We learned pretty quickly that aftercare matters, even for phone sex. Saying good night just after orgasm left me as cold and alone as I’d be if one of us rolled over after sex, said “See ya,” and took off. My logical brain posited, “It’s just phone sex; it can’t need as much aftercare as an in-person kink scene does, because it can’t be as intense!” But it can be, and it often is, and aftercare is as important as ever.

We catch our breaths. We whisper I-love-you’s. We lie in bed sighing contentedly and giggling like goons. We describe how we would touch each other if we were together, and it feels almost real: fingertips brushing along heated skin. We find our way back to the world outside our little snowglobe. That world is just as harsh and unpredictable as ever, but I feel strengthened by the love I’ve given and received. Like a hot cup of coffee, my love emboldens me, refuels me, warms me right through.

There was a time when I thought I didn’t like phone sex. I wish I could lean back through time to that past version of me and tell her: “Just you wait.”

5 Ways to Make Long-Distance Relationships Suck Less

Kate Sloan

I always vowed, as a young naïve little thing, never to get into a long-distance relationship. Touch is one of my major love languages, and I’m not the type to need a lot of “space” in my relationships: if I love someone enough to want to be their girlfriend, usually I want them as close as possible, in every way possible.

So it was a surprise when I met a boy who lived in New York and wanted him to be my boyfriend. I knew more-or-less what that would entail, and I still wanted it. I knew how hard it would be, and I still wanted it. I had often wondered, unempathetically, of friends in LDRs, “Why can’t you just find someone closer to date?” and I see now that that’s a question akin to when folks used to ask me, “You’re attracted to butch women? Why not just date men?” The answer is, you can’t control who you fall for. When you want that specific person, it’s neither appealing nor always possible to find a passable stand-in. You want who you want, and you love who you love.

Like the relationship nerds we are, my partner and I have experimented with lots of strategies for feeling closer when we’re far apart. Here are five things I’ve found helpful…

He told me to order a Manhattan because that’s where he lives. What a dork.

Phone dates. My partner and I talk on the phone almost every day for at least an hour or two, which – oddly – means I’m in touch with him more consistently and intensely than I have been with anyone else I’ve dated, despite him living 500 miles away from me. It’s so nice!

Like in-person dates with a nearby beau, these can be either pre-planned or impromptu, and they’re delicious either way. Sometimes we talk aimlessly for hours while we’re both lying in bed; sometimes I get dressed up for a jaunt to my favorite restaurant and he chats with me throughout my meal; sometimes we have raucous phone sex (see below). In the early days of our relationship, we frequently stayed up all night talking for six or seven or eight hours, and it felt akin to those love-drunk dates where you watch the sunrise together on a rooftop or some romantic shit like that. Aww!

We also do weird-cute things like hanging out on the phone while we’re each separately working on our own stuff. Or like… I’m screensharing with him right now as I type this. (We’re nerds, okay?) Jasdev Singh uses the term “ambient intimacy” which reminds me of this kind of low-pressure, casual “date.”

Whether you go with Skype, FaceTime, or the actual goddamn phone, I think the real-time aspect is important here. Texting is fun, but it can feel like your partner lives in your phone – and you want them to feel real to you. So make the time for actual, meaningful chats.

Wearing his shirt. Aww

Physical mementos. I have a T-shirt of my partner’s that I keep in a Ziploc bag so it’ll continue to smell like him, and when I take it out and press it to my face, I almost always burst into tears. #OverEmotionalSlutLyfe, amirite?

I collect other little tokens, too: love notes he’s written me, tickets from shows we’ve gone to together, room keys from hotels we’ve stayed in, li’l gifts he’s given me, and so on. The ones that are flat enough get carried around with me in the back pocket of my Moleskine journal, so I can take ’em out whenever I need a reminder that I am loved. (Not sure what the people on the subway think I’m doing when I giggle awkwardly at a postcard I produce from the back of my notebook, but whatevs.)

Sending each other gifts in the mail is also adorable when feasible. I will never forget the time my partner sent me an enormous flower arrangement on Valentine’s Day, for example, and it still makes me smile to flip through the book he bought me just a few days after our first date. These keepsakes make our mostly-digital relationship feel more rooted in the material world. Like hickeys, bite marks, and bruises, they remind me that someone cares about me, even when he isn’t physically there to tell me so.

Digital intimacy. I used to staunchly believe you shouldn’t follow your beaux on Twitter, but, uh, I met this one on Twitter, sooo… maybe I should reconsider that policy. I get a li’l rush of adrenaline every time my love faves or replies to one of my tweets. Likewise when he texts me, emails me, Snapchats me, makes me Spotify playlists of songs that remind him of us… um, you get the picture.

We do nerdier shit, too, like using iOS’s “share location” feature so we can keep an eye on each other throughout our days, and adding continuously to a shared photostream that chronicles our relationship in snapshots and screenshots. (And, uh, cumshots.)

Lots of my LDR-experienced friends enjoy watching shows and movies online with their partner, by screensharing or using a service like Rabb.it. Could be a cute date night!

A lot of archaic h8erz will tell you that connecting via the internet is less legitimate than connecting physically, but a) I’ll take what I can get and b) they’re wrong. It all strengthens our relationship and makes us feel closer to each other so it’s all valid and important.

Phone sex. I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT PHONE SEX. Eventually I will write some kind of how-to, although I don’t think I’m very good at it. (Suz is, though, and she wrote a good piece about it.)

Like in-person sex, phone sex can be whatever you want it to be. It can be as standardly vanilla or as deviantly kinky as you please. It can be hypothetical and distanced (“If I was there, I would…”) or immersively in-the-moment (“Get on your knees and suck my cock, little girl”). You can use toys (including app-compatible, LDR-friendly toys like the We-Vibe Sync!) or just get off the old-fashioned way. You can be yourselves, or play roles. You can craft detailed storylines, or just touch yourself and lapse into breathy moans.

Even though what we do during phone sex is essentially masturbation, it feels entirely different to me. The psychological and emotional aspects are much closer to my experience of partnered sex, and the orgasms are extra satisfying and exhausting the way that orgasms with partners usually are for me. Post-orgasm, when all that oxytocin is flooding my body, it’s so lovely to feel like I’m auditorily curling up with my partner for sweet cuddly aftercare. The whole process makes me feel so much closer to him and is often so good that I only miss fucking him IRL a little. (…Okay, more than a little. But less than I would if we weren’t having so damn much phone sex, that’s for sure.)

Doing our goodbye debrief at Reynard.

Proper goodbyes. The goodbyes my partner and I exchanged at the end of our second date were so disastrously bad that we vowed to never let that happen again. That farewell was rushed, took place in a crowded New York subway station, and ended on the sad note of us commiserating about how much we would miss each other and how hard it was to say goodbye. Then I got on the subway and he got into a cab and we both cried while texting each other about how hard we were crying. Not good!

In relationship-nerding about how to fix this issue for next time, we decided we needed to look at our in-person dates as if they were kink scenes – since they were just as emotionally and sexually intense as most kink scenes – and do proper aftercare. We needed a structured process to help us work through what we’d just experienced and float back into our regular lives without the harsh emotional drop we’d experienced that previous time.

Here’s what this looks like for us. We leave ourselves lots of time at the end of a date so we don’t have to rush our goodbye. We go for a leisurely meal or coffee. We talk about our favorite parts of the time we just spent together, both sexual and nonsexual. If possible, we try to nail down when our next date will be, even if it’s a month or more away, so we’ll have that to look forward to. We don’t say goodbye on the subway or in a cab, if possible, because that abruptness is the worst. Our goodbye on our third date took place outside his office building, where we could hug and kiss and stare moonily into each other’s eyes, etc., and we both left it feeling happy, hopeful, and only a little bit sad. Developing a farewell ritual that works for you is crucial, and worth taking the time to do!

What do you like to do to make long-distance relationships easier and more fun?

Sexy Snaps & Photo Booth Flirtations

Kate Sloan

Being in a new long-distance relationship has me pondering ways to create intimacy across vast expanses.

I know it’s possible because I’ve felt it. Sometimes partners who lived just a quick streetcar ride from me made me feel distanced, shut out, because their hearts were walled off to me; comparatively, my darling in New York pulls me close to him via texts, images, and filthy phone-sex soliloquies. Intimacy can exist wherever you make space for it, wherever you fight for it.

We’ve been playing with digital intimacy in many forms – salacious sexts, obscene FaceTime calls, adventures with app-controlled vibrators – but I’m also drawn, lately, to combining analog romance with the digital. Photo booths are a prime example of our cultural hearkening-back to the analog: like gifting your partner a vinyl LP or sending them a handwritten love letter, snapping instant photos together in a darkened booth is a hot hit of vintage romance.

Here are 5 sexy, kinky, and/or sweet things I’d like to do involving photo booths…

“Strip” tease. I could be ordered to get as naked as I feasibly could in a photo booth, showing off first my lingerie and then my skin. I’d be respectful, making sure no one walked in or got close enough to see – but I’d have to do it, some way and somehow, because my beau’d told me to. I’d grab the strip from its slot surreptitiously on my way out, and slide it into my purse before anyone could see. Four little naked Kates, arranged so neatly for a suitor’s later consumption.

Bruise archive. In many of my past kinky relationships, part of our protocol – whether informal or more official – was the taking and sending of bruise photos in the days after particularly intense scenes. It’s a way to stretch out the sadomasochistic intimacy of those encounters for days or weeks after they occur. For dominants, I hear it can also be nice to receive confirmation that your submissive not only likes their bruises but is proud of them, wants to show them off, wants to make them last. If I had a photo booth in my neighborhood, perhaps I’d instate a tradition of heading there the day after a good beating – and the week after that, and so on, until the marks had faded – to capture my bruises blooming into glory. What a charming album that’d make.

Cuteness quartet. It’s nice to receive a “traditional” gift, like a DVD I’ve been wanting, a gift certificate to my favorite store, or a soft sweater in my power colors. But I’m even more thrilled by personalized and offbeat gifts. I could see a partner snapping a few photo booth strips of himself for me, making all my fave faces and wearing that shirt that makes his eyes look extra blue. Maybe he’d slide it between the pages of a book he thought I’d like and mail it to me, like the photos were an afterthought, a mere bookmark – but I’d know better. I’d see in the shots how much effort had gone into them, and I’d know that meant he cared. A lot.

Date documentation. I love romantic traditions: these little touchstones we return to again and again, simply because they bring us so much joy. That diner you always go to after all-night fuck-fests; that movie you watch together every year around the holidays; that one alley you can’t walk past without making out in it for old times’ sake. I like the idea of taking photo booth pictures together at meted milestones in your relationship. I’m a sap, so I’d probably tape them into my journal, or have them framed.

Phone sex. A photo booth would be an interesting place to call up a beau and have them breathe hot and heavy in your ear. You could capture your authentic reactions to their words – gasps, blushes, moans – and snap your lapful of photo strips on your smartphone to send them. And hey, not to get crass, but I wonder what happens to photo booth ink when the strips get splattered in cum…!

What sexy/kinky/sweet things would you like to do in a photo booth?

 

This post was sponsored by the lovely folks at Ninja Photo, who will rent you photo booths across Canada and so many other places!

Monthly Faves: Velvet, Sugar, & Sprinkles

Kate Sloan

It’s been a weird month for me sexually. I’m juggling a bunch of different romantic/sexual connections right now and feeling a little overwhelmed (#PolyLyfe, amirite?). Here were some of my fave sexy things this month…

Sex toys

• Remember how Fucking Sculptures shut down recently? (Imagine the saddest of sad trombone sound effects here.) As soon as that announcement was made, I placed an order for one last toy from them, and it finally arrived this month: a large green Corkscrew. Honestly, I mostly just ordered it for the brand cachet and how beautiful I knew it would be, but it turns out it’s also highly functional too. Intense G-spot stimulation ahoy!

• We-Vibe sent me their new Gala clitoral vibrator and, as per usual for We-Vibe, it’s lovely. Definitely different from any other clit vibe I’ve tried, even Jimmyjane’s visually similar Form 2 and Intro 2. I will have waaay more thoughts in my full review, coming sometime in early 2018!

• I have rediscovered my Eroscillator this month. This happens periodically. I had forgotten how easy and profound my orgasms are with this toy!

Fantasy fodder

• Dominating my kinky thoughts this month are the notions of sugar daddies, financial domination/submission, and cash fetishism. That’s partly because I tentatively have a sugar daddy now (!!) and partly because I recently listened to a fantastic episode of Why Are People Into That? about findom and cash kink. Soooo much to unpack here with regards to power, class, privilege, “worthiness,” and desire. Hmm!

• Whenever I get into a new kink, I tend to search for Sherlock fanfic about it (surprise, surprise), which led to me discovering this “Sugar Daddy John Watson” story featuring copious gay sex in between hunger-stirring descriptions of magnificent Italian food. I will have to do more research along these lines…

• This month I had actual goddamn phone sex for the first time in, I dunno, probably 8 years or more. It’s an interesting medium for me as someone who totally gets off on words but also has anxiety about not being a good dirty-talker myself. It is nice when someone appreciates my moans/purrs/giggles, though!

Sexcetera

• Orgasm stats: I only had 20 this month. I don’t know why. That’s shockingly low for me. Something to work on! (I did, however, hit 300 orgasms total for the year this month – all over my FWB’s cock, on the top floor of a sex club. A++ experience.)

• Now that November’s done, my yearly wrap-up series 12 Days of Girly Juice is about to start! So it’ll be all best-of lists all the time until the year is done, after which we’ll get back to our regular programming here. I’m excited to tell you about all my faves from 2017!

Femme stuff

• I’m really into velvet lately. And, like, always. I remember going shopping with my best friend Bex in September and shrieking “I LOVE VELVET SO MUUUCH!!” and them looking at me incredulously and saying, “I don’t think I knew that about you.” Well, I do. I think it’s mostly a sensual thing; my feelings about velvet are almost sexual (but then again, us pervy kinksters are always rounding things up to kinks when they aren’t necessarily). This month I bought a red velvet dress at H&M and I’m gonna thrash it once holiday parties start happening.

• I bought a pink heart collar on eBay for literally 99 cents, and it’s kind of perfect. Can I get one in every color so I can always be wearing one, please?

• Though I don’t wear jeans very often, because #FemmeLyfe, my favorite old pair is shredded to death so I bought a new pair this month. They make me feel very put-together and wholesome and grown-up. Hurrah!

Little things

Compliments so good I have to copy them into my journal to re-read over the coming days and weeks. Buying tickets for Max and I to go see his fave comedian, Sebastian Maniscalco, in March! Cuddling my roommate’s dog when I’m sad. Nerding out over my income spreadsheet. Singing “Crazy” for a rowdy karaoke crowd. Talking blog strategy with Suz over Indian food and cocktails. Deleting all my notifications except ones from PayPal ($$!). My super-sweet dermatologist. Respectful cam show clients. Hearkening back to phone calls in a text-centric world. Cheesy pasta delivered to my door. Rachel Hills’ The Sex Myth. This adorable song which came up on my Spotify Discover playlist this month (“I think you’re cute…!”). Cadence serving me roast veggies and chicken with boozy cream soda while we watched stand-up. A handsome older gentleman calling me “young lady” and “kiddo.” Vanilla donuts with sprinkles (and pumpkin pie donuts!). Long kink negotiations that devolve into hysterical laughter.