Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Beautiful angels on a staircase to the heavens. Models: Rachel, Lareina, and Jenn.
Lareina Tay in her bikini posing on our dock – She soon got tired of the bikini and did some nude yoga while basking in the warm sun and enjoying the cool summer breeze on her skin.
Just having some fun revisiting one of my favorite horror films as an adult. Thanks to Olinka Lickova for shedding her clothes and providing me with some inspirational poses (though neither of us at the time had any idea this is how they would ultimately be used). Would have been fun to see how the monster reacted to this naked hottie. (Did the good Dr. Frankenstein sew on ALL the parts when he put the creature together?)
Flower Beds. Models: Jenn Michelle and Crystal Nicole
Jenn and Crystal in the Ferns Models: Jenn Michelle, Crystal Nicole
Yet another “May the Fourth Be With You” homage. Model: Starla @modeladventurer
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.
