Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Nude in Public Nightmare Model: Destiny
Destiny’s Naked Nightmare
In the realm of midnight’s haunting veil,
Destiny, stripped bare, wanders frail.
Through streets unknown, a surreal domain,
A nightmare’s grip, a relentless chain.
Naked truth adrift in shadows’ keep,
A city unfamiliar, lost in sleep.
Whispers of forgotten tales entwine,
As Destiny treads through the ghostly line.
Moonlit alleys, cobblestone dreams,
Echoes of silence, or so it seems.
Mysterious faces leer from the shade,
In the abandoned city, where fears cascade.
Twisted figures with eyes unknown,
Their gazes pierce through flesh and bone.
A carnival of the bizarre, a midnight parade,
Destiny’s essence on display, betrayed.
Lurking in corners, figures bizarre,
Dancing with shadows, beneath the stars.
Wraiths and phantoms, specters unkind,
In the surreal recesses of Destiny’s mind.
The city breathes, an entity obscure,
As Destiny stumbles, unsure.
Her footprints echo in deserted streets,
A symphony of solitude, where destiny meets.
The clock strikes midnight, a haunting chime,
As Destiny navigates the corridors of time.
Naked vulnerability in the moonlight,
A captive in her own nightmare’s spite.
Through this desolate city, she roams,
A captive soul in the cosmic catacombs.
Yet, in the heart of this dream-like despair,
Destiny seeks escape, a silent prayer.
In the labyrinth of the mind, she’s confined,
A dreamer lost in the corridors of the mind.
In the strange, surreal city, where shadows play,
Destiny yearns for the light of a new day.
Partying in the End Times – (L. to R.) Jinx Spectere, Destiny, Sophia Jade, Crystal A, Lareina Tay, Rachel Lily, Olinka Lickova
Beauty and Epistemology. Model: Eva
In the dance of shadows and light, Epistemology finds its flight,
In the whisper of a breeze’s sigh, Beauty’s truth begins to vie.
For what is known, what we perceive, In beauty’s embrace, we believe,
Through every curve and line, we seek, A deeper truth, a wisdom unique.
In the bloom of a rose, the sweep of a plain, Epistemology’s quest begins its refrain,
For beauty’s essence, elusive, profound, In its mystery, meaning is found.
Through the eyes of the beholder, it lies, Epistemology and beauty’s ties,
In the search for understanding, we roam, In the heart of beauty, we find home.
Fundamentals of Knowing. Models: Crystal, Amelie Belain
Fundamentals of Knowing
In the vast expanse of existence, we journey through realms of knowing and feeling, where truth and beauty intertwine, and understanding resides at the core level of meaning.
To know is to grasp the essence, to unravel the mysteries that cloak reality in veils of uncertainty. Yet, knowing alone is but a fragment of the whole, for it is in feeling that we truly comprehend the depths of existence. Feeling transcends the boundaries of logic, plunging us into the ocean of emotions where the currents of passion and empathy flow.
Truth, like a beacon in the night, guides our path through the labyrinth of life. It is the unwavering light that illuminates the darkness, revealing the contours of reality with unwavering clarity. Yet, truth is not always what it seems, for beauty often lies in the eye of the beholder, casting a veil of subjectivity over the objective world.
In the symphony of existence, understanding resonates as the melody that binds all things together. It is the harmonious chord that unites knowing and feeling, weaving a tapestry of meaning that transcends the limitations of language and perception. At the core level of understanding, we find the essence of our being, the pulsating rhythm of life that beats within us all.
Love, like a wildfire, consumes the soul with its fierce intensity, engulfing us in its warmth and light. To feel love deeply is to surrender to its transformative power, to be swept away on the currents of passion and desire. Yet, love is also a delicate flower, vulnerable to the harsh winds of indifference and neglect.
And then there is the absence of feeling, the void that echoes with silence and emptiness. To not feel at all is to wander through the desert of existence, thirsting for the nourishment that only emotion can provide. It is a cold and barren landscape, where even the stars seem to have lost their sparkle.
In the tapestry of life, knowing and feeling, truth and beauty, understanding and love intertwine, each thread weaving its own unique pattern into the fabric of existence. And though we may stumble along the way, lost in the labyrinth of our own emotions, we are always guided by the light of truth and the warmth of love, leading us ever closer to the core of meaning.
Four witches gather in a clearing in the woods to dance around a bonfire. Dancers: CJ, Angela, Leeanna, Anastasia
French Parlor Noir. Model: Kay Ace
In a French parlor boudoir, where whispers waltz, Kay reclines on a chaise lounge, a dreamer’s vault. Silken shadows play on walls adorned with tales, As her mind pirouettes through ephemeral trails.
Lace curtains breathe in the evening’s mystique, Softly rustling secrets, the room’s mystique. Candles flicker, casting a warm amber glow, Igniting fantasies that only she can know.
A vintage mirror reflects her wistful gaze, Eyes painted with the hues of twilight’s haze. In the tapestry of time, she weaves her desire, A silent symphony, stoked by passion’s fire.
The scent of lavender lingers in the air, A fragrant sonnet, a romantic affair. Kay’s thoughts drift like petals on a breeze, Dancing with whimsy, lost in reverie.
Her fingers trace patterns on the plush fabric, A tactile sonnet, a touch of the graphic. In this sanctuary of longing and grace, She paints her dreams in an intimate space.
French whispers caress her wandering mind, Verses of love in a language refined. The chaise cradles her in an embrace so tender, As she surrenders to fantasies, wild and slender.
Oh, the tales she conjures in this private cocoon, In the parlor boudoir, where dreams softly swoon. Kay, the poet of her own clandestine lore, In the symphony of silence, she yearns for more.
Ava May does a spontaneous, improvised dance. And though it’s not perfect, it still came out so good that I edited it into a complete finished video.
Model: Ava May