Here I share my erotic fantasy art, photos, music, and video. Just scroll or search on keywords or postings.
Violet mingling among alien visitors to the Intra-galactic Earth Festival.
A group of fairies gather in the forest on a beautiful midsummer night for a sexy rumpus. Models: Kay Ace, Lareina Tay, Crystal Nicole, Jenn Michelle, and Destiny
So I thought I would use my Photoshop skills and have a little fun channeling my inner 13-year-old’s sexual fantasies. I was quite an avid reader and collector of Archie comics as a kid. I would not have admitted it back then but I loved them just as much as my Marvel comics–maybe even more once I started adolescence. So here are the results of my fantasizing. There’s something uniquely erotic for me about these re-imaginings. Maybe because it takes me back to a hornier, more hormonally-charged period of my life, or maybe it’s the playful and innocent sexiness of them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. If so, let me know, and I will do more of them–maybe even try corrupting the Marvel universe. Topless Gwen Stacy? Naked Sue Storm? Hmmmm…
Alien Fashion Show – Violet, Olinka Lickova, Lareina Tay
Olinka Lickova at a nearby waterfall in a public park. Model: Olinka Lickova
Crystal in Congregation of Potato People. Model: Crystal A
Church of the Potato People
In the Church of the Tuber, where spuds convene,
A congregation of potato people, a sight unseen.
Their eyes, like russet orbs, fixed on the sacred ground,
As they gather in reverence, in silence profound.
Starch-filled hearts beat in unison, a tater’s devotion,
In pews of mashed delight, a tuberous emotion.
The pulpit adorned with skins, a priestly spud ascends,
Preaching the gospel of the harvest, where the potato life transcends.
But amid the devout, a stranger unknown,
A beauty in disguise, a presence all her own.
She, an outsider, a radiant yam,
In the sea of potatoes, a singular glam.
Her skin, a golden hue, not of earthly soil,
A sweet fragrance of difference, a celestial foil.
Yet, she hides among them, a secret delight,
In the congregation’s eyes, a clandestine light.
The potato people, unaware of her grace,
Continue their worship in the starchy space.
But the outsider listens, absorbing their prayer,
In the silence of tubers, a connection rare.
As the sermon concludes, and the congregation disbands,
The outsider reveals herself, a rose in the lands.
The potatoes, astonished, yet welcoming still,
In this diverse church, love trumps the thrill.
For in the Church of the Tuber, diversity blooms,
In the richness of differences, unity looms.
Potato people and yams, together they stand,
In the spud-filled sanctuary, hand in hand.
