Author: Wanda Dick

During my run today, I was passed by a group of male cross country runners of high school age. Clad in tastefully-short shorts, some in shirts and others without, they zoomed past me into the approaching darkness, muscled legs moving together in deliciously unsynchronized unison. I found myself grinning and not

He said he’d be right back, and followed up with a kiss that didn’t exactly make me amped about his return. My 4-a.m. drunken eyes watched his naked back and ass slip through the bedroom door, and this, I knew, was my chance to get covered.  I hurtled across the bed and shimmied

“Come on,” my boyfriend whispered in the midst of trying to convince me that we should 69. “I know there’s something crazy you just want to try.” “Maybe there is,” 15-year-old me wondered out loud. Truth be told, I had nothing. But, to put an end to his constant questioning,

Like all good birthday wishes, his came as a wistful fantasy at 3 a.m. “You know you’re a little bit curious…”  Freshly 20, my then-boyfriend had played smart with his strategy. We were both more than buzzed and covered in the salty remnants of our dip in the ocean, snuggled