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.
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.
Dancer In Red On Rocky Alien Landscape. Model: Jemstarlight Moon
Hold On While I Fix Your Head. Actually, heads were, in fact fixed a little on this shoot. Several days of close bonding and sharing put us all a little more right. Model: Ava May, Jemstarlight Moon
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…
