Sunday, August 30, 2009

Crinoline Flowers by Daryl Banks





Wonderfully original and striking from a Canadian photographer.

Gregory Prescott




Thursday, August 27, 2009

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Cathie

You have been on my mind. This song is how I feel.

A Long December - Counting Crows

A long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leaving
Oh the days go by so fast

And it's one more day up in the canyons
And it's one more night in Hollywood
If you think that I could be forgiven
I wish you would
(Na na na, etc. yeah)

The smell of hospitals in winter
And the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters, but no pearls
All at once you look across a crowded room
To see the way that light attaches to a girl

And it's one more day up in the canyons
And it's one more night in Hollywood
If you think you might come to California
I think you should
(Na na na, etc. yeah)

Drove up to Hillside Manor sometime after 2 a.m.
And talked a little while about the year
I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her

And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass

And it's one more day up in the canyon
And it's one more night in Hollywood
It's been so long since I've seen the ocean
I guess I should
(Na na na, etc. yeah)

Monday, August 24, 2009

Nine Years is a Long Time

I saw her for the first time in years. She was one of those female friends of mine that I felt a definite connection to. You know the type: God DAMN! if I was not married and she was not as well we could be something together. She was (and still is) beautiful. An soft lightness of physical and spiritual beauty that emanates from her being transcending her pain because she loves others so much better than she loves herself.. Sometimes as soft as light rain water and at other times a torrent of energy. But always with a sadness and a shadow of unspoken pain. An alcoholic for a husband. I suspect a man that did not touch her.

Her energy would pulse forward and out in her passion for skiing and entertaining. A sweet melodious voice that gripped your heart and rends it into shards of sadness for the entrapped diamond clear potential trapped in a loveless marriage.

Loyal to her son to the point of probably making her broken it is not until he is well a man she decides to leave her husband.

And we meet. Not quite by chance as she was doing some shopping were I work. I looked up and recognized her instantly. World worn was her face. A shock to me. I wave and call her name instantly making her start and she smiles that smile. She has these thin lips which tasted so good that stride outwards to the corner of her face as she smiles and those blue eyes light up in recognition of me. I ask her to come back and say hi.

She must of waited 20 minutes for me to get away. She is as petite as the last time I saw her. I approach half in fear because because her face has aged so. Somehow it is riven with lines of worry and hurt - not the lines of wide smiles and too much sun and laughter. We approach and as smooth as if we hugged all the time her lightness fills my arms. She feels like she did the last time I hugged her more than 3 years before the last time I saw her.

The hug is just right. Not too tight. Not too short. Not to long. Not too loose.

We talk because conversation cannot be had. It is not private enough but more than that I think she feels something the same as me. The unspoken void of a night of kisses shared semi-sinfully in the water of a cool lake and then in her car outside my place. She pulled me in then on her terms. Momentary. Fleeting. Painfully short and the creation of unrequited love in me. As quickly as she let me in she closed the portal of possibility for greater but more challenging and painful commitments that she had to hold to her.

I understood why and I hated myself and her for it.

But she is here. We trade pleasantries and I offer my phone number and she asks for my email address. I give it to her and we hug again and I dare not even attempt to smell her scent. Nothing is probably going to happen.

I hope she is on the right road now. She is leaving him. She is rebuilding and I know in my heart she has the strength of Samson and I pray she will find the peace that has eluded her for so long.

I love you C. As a friend. Godspeed.

I was "bound" to like this...

Hues





Because black and nude are not the only colours to wear!

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Post Secret

Post Secret is awesome. A simple concept: people send in post cards of all sorts with short concise messages on them and the site posts them.

This particular image is evocative. I like a woman that wants to feel "trashy". I am not really sure were this comes from for her or me. One thing is for sure that over the range of love making or sex there is room to be gentle and caring and there is room for hot sweaty headboard banging I don't give a fuck about your needs right now sex. It continues to amaze me when a lover allows you and themselves the permission to be something more sexually. That act of mutual consent is a powerful aphrodisiac for both people and what can be amazing and healthy is that it is momentary. It only represents on aspect of the partnership.

I pity the poor fucks that only know their own needs or have limited needs. I want my partnership to revel is as wide ranging expressions of sexuality and intimacy as possible. The missionary position is not enough.

Vive Le Difference!

Legs in the Air



Saturday, August 22, 2009

Friday, August 21, 2009

Fetish Friday: Abi






Another Abi fix.

Best Stocking Photo of the Year?

Simply one of the most stunning stocking photos I have found.

Japan's Miss Universe National Costume



Wow!

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Vintage Movie

Definitely NSFW!

I do not usually post such overt erotica/pornography but I had to share this vintage movie. It is old, probably from the late 1920s in France. The story line is rather, shall we say, unrealistic but all the same there was something compelling for me.

I wish I could read French better but the gist is man meets girl; man cannot get hard; man gets the equivalent of viagara; man meets another girl; man makes it with girl; girl leaves for some reason; man meets maid; man makes it with maid; girl comes back; maid, girl and man make it.

A lot to pack into 7 minutes and 50 seconds.


Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Related Posts with Thumbnails