Excuse Us, Agent Cooper: Would You Like A Slice Of Pie?

SOMETHING IS HAPPENING THAT YOU GUYS NEED TO KNOW ABOUT. He's right here in the bath and his name is Dale Cooper.

If you are not acquainted with this man, take a deep breath in because you're about to get real acquainted with his forearms, thighs, cheeky smile, love for Radiohead and expert ability to make us giggle and then need to fuck immediately.


Toying with the Aneros.

I've been putting off a review of the Aneros Maximus for quite some time now. During that time, I've tested the toy again and again. Each time, I end up with the same result, this thing is the fucking tits.


It's The Freakin' Weekend.

"Dear Violet,
These are some things I found. I thought you might enjoy watching them while I'm working this weekend. Enjoy yourself. 
Love, Rye"

That's the email I found in our inbox this morning when I woke up and lazily drank coffee in my pajamas while poor Rye went to work. He had thoughtfully spent his days off during the week gathering three videos for my weekend enjoyment, and enjoying them is just what I set out to do. His intention, I am certain, was to inspire a jerk-off session, along with a few photos sent to him while he was at work.

He'll probably still get that, but he's also inspired something a bit more... um... verbose.



Because it's snowing.
Because the light was great.
Because I was listening to Serge Gainsbourg.


Premature Maturity.

So lately, I've had a bit of an issue.

I don't want to call it premature anything, but I also don't want to color it as if it were anything different.

For the past few months, for whatever reason, I've fallen into this strange trap. The first part of this trap involves me masturbating infrequently. As a healthy younger dude (now being a healthy slightly older dude), it was not unusual for me to go for it once a day, whether or not I was also getting a bit of Violet that day (usually the case).


Rye at Home.

We often hear from you lovely readers with a repeated, urgent request: MORE RYE, NOW!

So when we're both at home and he's walking around the apartment, doing chores in boxer briefs that keep making their way below his ass, picking out records while basically giving me the full show, how am I NOT supposed to photograph that?