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I dare say that what has happened on line in the last five years that I’ve been paying attention has done more to line the wallets of wannabe Dommes and warm the pants of psudeo-submissives then to educate the masses about the leather lifestyle.

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Touring an HIV+ gay sex club. Plus: the porn stars that got away

Learning To Drive Stick, Sex »

I wanted a weekend of unbridled carefree fucking after 11 months of loving someone who had low sex drive issues and low interest issues. Nonetheless, we did have sex on Friday night, but the first time you fuck anyone is odd, grooves not found, rhythms not synced, and so I extended my trip one more night, to see whether things could line up more.

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The move from full time Dominatrix to toy sex shop salesgirl sometimes feels like I went from teaching troubled teens to starting my own daycare service.

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Apparently all the guys are using Grindr to find sex partners. Gay men, as we already knew, are pigs. And, as pigs, will enlist any advance in technology in the search for dick.

However, the rules of attraction and the ethics of pressing such attraction are age-old and timeless. I’d like to explore a few aspects of the casual/anonymous sex arena here, asking some questions and sharing my opinions on the issues of safety, mutual respect and consideration.

Columns, Sex, Zack's Ramblings »

There are two guys that go out together one night. Both flirt with the people they find attractive, both make out with a couple of them at the bar. Both stumble out together and start talking to a pair of attractive friends at the bar’s 3 am “sidewalk sale.” Both take one of the friends home and have sex. However, one of those guys is gay and the other is straight. How are their friends reactions going to differ?

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I can’t stand to sweat unless I’m naked and I love to eat and drink.

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On a recent trip to Chicago, my boyfriend and I were out at a club, struggling to fight off the cabin fever we’d been suffering due to 48 hours of weather-related flight delays, snowfall and unstable family members. I spent some time sitting at the bar, getting to know the bf’s college frenemisis, whom we kept running into during the visit, while the bf set off on a mission to meet the only other indie rock fag (IRF) spotted in the sprawling establishment.

Time went on, alcohol was consumed, and groups of people and conversation merged and diverged like dynamic schools of fish dodging a lazy sea lion. At one point, I found myself chatting with the other IRF while his friend looked on. I looked up to find his friend staring at me, eyebrows slightly perked in a questioning way, mouth slightly agape. Hrm, I thought. I was intrigued.

Sex »

Now I’m crying I’m laughing so hard and he’s sweating like a pig under all those plastic layers and I told him “I’m sorry, I can’t go any further. I have got to know how this came to be.”

Columns, Sex, Zack's Ramblings »

If I sat back and wrote a list of things I want to accomplish in a given weekend night, they probably read like this: 1) Get drunk. 2.) Get super-stoned. 3.) Dance to something non-remixed (though that’s easier said than done) 4) Ejaculate in a memorable and creative manner and 5) not bite my nails afterwards until I’ve washed my hands.