Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Whatever it is you seek, just put on a hooded cloak and go to the top of a mountain. Unless you are seeking a sandwich. Or a slice of pizza. Or a new outfit. Or some new friends. But other than that, just go to some mountaintop; it will bring you closer to God, because, as we all know, God sits up high in the sky. And the thin air and grand vistas will make you feel a little high (why do you think they call it “getting high”?). Anyway, this piece is dedicated to all of us seekers in earnest. Excelsior! Model: Rachel Lilly
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
Church of the Damned. Model: Olinka Lickova
Olinka in the Church of the Damned
In the Church of the Damned, where shadows dance,
Olinka stands, exalted, a spectral trance.
Above the dark demons and undead wail,
She rises, a figure in a ghostly veil.
The air, thick with a greenish swampy haze,
Creeps through the crevasses, in a spectral daze.
The rotting basilica, a haunted stage,
Its pilasters crumble in an ancient age.
Olinka’s presence, a beacon in the gloom,
A silhouette against the haunted tomb.
Her eyes, pools of mystery, deep and vast,
Hold the secrets of a forgotten past.
Around her, the undead whisper in despair,
Demons bow in reverence, a macabre affair.
As the swampy mist encircles each decayed stone,
Olinka stands, in majesty, alone.
A symphony of darkness, a spectral ballet,
In the Church of the Damned, where shadows play.
Olinka, a queen in this ethereal domain,
In haunting beauty, she shall forever reign.
Olinka – Ice Queen. Model: Olinka Lickova @na5tyninja
Olinka,
naked beneath the bear skin’s coarse embrace,
a whisper of life on the frozen lake’s glass,
her form etched against the tundra’s pale breath.
The wind howls,
but it cannot reach her;
the ice cracks,
but it does not break.
She stands, a beacon of warmth
in a world that swallows light.
Her gaze, ancient and knowing,
meets the cold with quiet defiance.
It speaks of fires unseen,
embers nestled deep in the heart.
In her eyes,
a promise:
even here,
life endures.
Olinka,
the solace in the struggle,
the warmth within the frozen waste.
A Goddess Dances in the Meadow. Dancer: Christina Johnson
In the meadow’s gentle cradle she twirls,
A goddess in the sunlit swirls.
Beneath the vast and azure dome,
Her dance, a hymn of nature’s poem.
Soft grass cradles her nimble feet,
A tapestry of green, a cushion sweet.
The sky above, a canvas blue,
Each pirouette a tale anew.
Her silhouette, a grace untold,
A symphony in green and gold.
The forest’s edge, a silent crowd,
In hushed reverence, they’re endowed.
Tall trees stand like guardians wise,
Whispering secrets ‘neath the skies.
Leaves applaud in the rustling breeze,
Nature’s ballet among the trees.
Sunlight weaves through branches high,
Casting shadows where dreams may lie.
The goddess spins, a radiant sprite,
Embracing day, kissing the night.
In this meadow, a sacred trance,
She dances, lost in nature’s dance.
A goddess in the soft grass sways,
A celebration of eternal days.



























































