That time I went on a first date to an art gallery was pretty memorable. Beckmann’s, Klee’s and Kandinsky’s, Die Brücke, Bauhaus, and German Expressionist—all those denounced by the Nazis as Jewish, Bolshevik, degenerate. Considering that I kink on both Modernism and on the raw Foucauldian power of interwar fascism, I was pretty turned on. We ended up teasing each other on a park bench. — Sir

Surviving the first year of long distance is an accomplishment for any relationship, polyamorous or not. —Sir

It’s never bothered me. I used to find it cute, but just not sexy or kinky in any way. However, it’s grown on me quite a bit over the past year. While I don’t identify as a caregiver “Daddy Dom,” sometimes I do enjoy Ivy in little mode, in which I’m somewhat of a “dirty uncle” or “the boy Daddies warn about,” in a rough, corrupting kind of way. And when I am somewhat Daddylike, it’s a reluctant caretaker of the innocent, like Jean Reno in Léon. — Sir

So long as no real babies result from the penis!

Any suggestions for boob costumes? The Two Trees of Valinor? The pink and blue Ice Climbers? – Sir

The most difficult challenge has nothing to do with other people. Setting boundaries, providing and obtaining security, and seeking other partners all require knowledge of my own needs, what I’m good at, and what I ought to work on. These aren’t easy questions. — Sir