I can tell by the way you write you’re educated, but all you write about is sex. Is it just me or does it seem like a waste of all your educ...

Very few people are awake in this beachside community at seven in the morning. As I walk down the main street out of the commercial district...

Do you like gloryholes? he asks me on a sex site. No, I shoot back. I fucking LOVE gloryholes. Then you should try my home gloryhole s...

I arrived at the bar stinking of dick, the other night. Now, normally I’m not a slob. I have something of a uniform of jeans and a T-shirt...

On a street of crowded bungalows, his stands out. Every other address on this street is enumerated with the same cheap brass numbers from th...

Playing with my former gloryhole boy last Friday put me in a certain mood. I knew my own local friend with the home gloryhole tends to hang ...

There used to be a guy I knew a dozen years ago. I didn’t like him. He was one of those men who made the mistaken assumption that our situat...

I spent much of Sunday morning at the mercy of friends. When finally I got some alone time at around five-thirty, I flipped up the lid of my...

The first time he wrote me on Manhunt a couple of years back, I wanted to toss away his note. You know you want to come over, get down on yo...

Yesterday's trip down memory lane made me think of another Bijou I've visited in the past: Chicago's Bijou Theater, a dirty movi...

(I'm on the road in Toronto this week, but I wrote this memory of one of my favorite Toronto haunts, so that you won't forget about ...