I’m on an Amtrak train heading down to Washington DC to go to Mid Atlantic Leather weekend, otherwise known as “MAL.” I’m connecting to the train’s wi-fi and it shows the various active networks. In addition to the Amtrak network
I’m heading to Washington DC to visit my sister. I saw her about this time last year, and before that for the John Stewart rally in 2010. This has become a regular thing. I like visiting my sister and like
Last night I watched a couple of TV shows, one after the next, and by sheer coincidence both shows involved incidents of sex for favors under unusual circumstances. One involved a man offering the favors (to another man) and I
I remember the first time I saw an escort. It was about eight years ago. I’d fixated on an escort named Peter, who was a hunky Australian guy living in San Francisco with brooding dark features and a knock-out body.
Each day I commute from San Francisco to my job in Sunnyvale. I am one of an army of reverse-commuters, heading from our flats and rowhouses in the City southward to the leafy office parks of the Peninsula and South