I’ve recollected, and I can say that I’ve slept most nights deeply and profoundly. And when I sleep, I dream wondrous and beautiful dreams in which, for instance, I find myself in possession of treasure chests. Or a woman’s chest for that matter. I sit here, head lilting, playing playful playlists, waiting for inspiration to kiss me in the nape. I wonder where my hands would lead me. Oftentimes through a lover’s eyes, and, less specifically but more cosmically toward another image. It could be inspired, it could be tired. For those who choose to use the internet merely as a tool of chaste productivity, this is not for you. I really hope I can post nudes here. Any kind of nude. What lies ahead? Carnality. I wish.
So, here are a couple of raw, unadulterated images to be used for posters this coming week:
for Top Junk‘s junky fix, I worked on a matryoshka doll. I plan to make a more elaborate version of this if only I can commence a raunchy tussle with her full anatomy, or lack thereof. She’ll always have a lovely, hunky trunk.
Don’t we all like to hoot? It’s basically a sound for both scorn and merriment.
sessiOnroad will be having their 15th anniversary next month. Where did the years go? WHY did the years go?
Hoot. Let’s get off to a haunting start.
But speaking of getting off, I wish we all are. As now I am. For good purpose. There’s a stripper I don’t want to keep waiting. Maybe we’ll share something explicit. Picture something illicit. Maybe get some good restorative sleep. For chances are, I’ll just keep dreaming.
– C