There is a book, likely printed in the 1970s, about massage. It came into my home when I was newly married and very naive, and in it was a photograph that has stuck with me as I've outgrown not only that marriage but also those old ideas of what it meant to be good. The photo was of a woman enjoying a massage on a wooden dock that jutted out into a small lake in the mid-afternoon sunshine. She was naked and surrounded by...

1. He brought it up over coffee one sunny Saturday morning, which may explain the box of pastries he’d surprised us with. Stella and I had both paused for a moment as we understood his suggestion, our eyes meeting cautiously over the table. She was the first to reply. “You want me to film you and Luna having sex,” she asked, her question a mix of incredulity, amusement and curiosity. “Like, make you a porno… You know you...