Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Partying in the End Times – (L. to R.) Jinx Spectere, Destiny, Sophia Jade, Crystal A, Lareina Tay, Rachel Lily, Olinka Lickova
Two Women dancing naked in the Hall of Insanity, inspired by the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Models: Lior Allay and Kay Ace
Gestation. Model: Lethe
In the secret realm where life begins
A dance of cells, a symphony within.
Embryo, a whisper in the cosmic tide
A metamorphosis, where mysteries abide.
In the womb’s embrace, a canvas bare
The alchemy of existence, beyond compare.
A journey unfolds in the silent night
From the spark of creation to the dawn of light.
Tiny tendrils weave tales untold
A waltz of genes in a mystical fold.
In the sacred cocoon of maternal grace
Life emerges, a delicate embrace.
A pulse of potential, a heartbeat’s start
An ode to life, a masterpiece of art.
The embryo’s ballet, a cosmic rhyme
A miracle unfolding, transcending time.
Cells divide, a cosmic ballet
A choreography of life in a graceful array.
Limbs form, a sculptor’s sweet refrain
A transformation, a celestial gain.
Oh, embryonic symphony, celestial ball
In the cradle of creation, where wonders enthrall.
A dance of life, a poetic grace
In the earliest stages, a sublime embrace.
As the embryo awakens, a star is born
A testament to the cosmic morn.
In the tapestry of being, a story takes flight
A metamorphosis, a journey to the light.
Lovely pinup style shot of Kay Ace sitting in a picture window. Also Frankie Bunny. You can barely see her, but she’s back there, swinging on a swing and happily surprised to see a T. Rex coming up on her. Models: Kay Ace, Frankie Bunny
We grow like snakes, shedding layers of skin that we leave behind in dried-out, lifeless husks as we get larger and larger–only these skins take on many forms in many dimensions: the cradle, the playpen, school, ignorance, fears, home, church, friends, belief systems, teams, clubs, tribes, self-image, etc.; and until we shed these once-protective, now-restrictive layers, we are confined in virtual jars that are usually transparent enough to see at least some of what is outside but prevents us from exploring all that is beyond the glass walls of whatever manifestations of super-ego we find ourselves trapped behind.