We were at a large party out in the countryside with several dozen people, and midnight was gone. Music blasted from loudspeakers, and waiters moved everywhere with generous varieties of booze. We had escaped across the lawn from the noise (booze in hand) to chat with a few friends. My wife and I don’t often stay out late together, but if we make it past midnight everything is possible. Also, if my wife has more than three cocktails, everything is probable. Continue reading Sex Windows: the result of The Photo Experiment
Tag Archives: The Photo Experiment
Move into the Light: her response to The Photo Experiment
X, My pussy gets wet just typing that little erotic letter. I mean just glimpsing it down there on my keyboard, my nipples get hard. But then my skin is so sensitive these days that any old letter is likely to set me off on increasingly vivid fantasies. “QWERTY” is like dirty talk to me. I called your artist/photographer friend. He was already an acquaintance of mine, actually, and I’d indirectly worked with him a couple of years ago to promote another of his projects, so it wasn’t that unusual for me to call and say I’d be willing to help out on this project in any way – say, for example, stripping off all my clothes for his camera in the name of art. I should have been some painter’s muse, X, as you’ve mentioned before. I was made for artistic devotion! Nude is how I like to be. Continue reading Move into the Light: her response to The Photo Experiment
The Photo Experiment
My Little Exhibitionist,
I hope you’ve put that sexy bodysuit to good use since we last wrote. Somehow I imagine that in putting it to good use, you also put that body of yours to use, and that now the suit has become like a second skin you wear as you prowl the night like some new erotic superheroine who leaps from bedroom to bedroom like a cat. I loved the thought of you cavorting naked around that dressing room – loved it so much that I’ve probably spent too much time thinking about it. So now I’m going to be greedy – perhaps too greedy. I want you naked again, completely. At this point I believe I would do almost anything for a glimpse of your bare flesh, but I’ve made these damned promises of anonymity. Fine. So be it. I will keep to my promises, but I am not jealous (how could I ever presume to be jealous?), and so if my eyes are not to feast upon you, then I want others – others besides that shopgirl you modeled for – to feast, and feast, and feast. Continue reading The Photo Experiment