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Monthly Archives: July 2013

Where would we all be?

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There is a strange light here on this pale afternoon.

It illuminates quietly and carries fewer sounds.  It is gentle and blurs the hard edges. It  becomes diffused and soft. It slows time.

She is here.

Her presence is permanent yet not constant. Sometimes she is no more than a tug at my sleeve, a barely discernible whisper in my ear, a shadow at the edge of my vision.

Other times I can almost touch her, smell her scent, feel the movement of the air as she passes.

The most dangerous of times are when she is beside me, her hands reaching for mine, her body pressing against me. I can feel the swell of her breasts against my chest, sense the curve of her hips beneath my hands. I am aware of her thighs, slightly parted.

My fingers ache for her.

In this uncommon light it seems, if I imagine her for more than a moment, I could transport her rare beauty from where she is now, to here.

And where would we all be then?

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot

 

 
16 Comments

Posted by on July 31, 2013 in Still Life

 

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Never, ever.

smitten84

They have escaped.

Their bolt-hole, far beyond the cities, out of reach of the railway, along narrow roads of high wind-swept hedges. Where the sea is always cold and clean and the air is fresh; mewing with gulls and tangy with salt on the rugged coast.

Where their walls are stone and two feet thick, the floors wood and slate, the same reassuring grey as the roofs and the sky when it is brooding. Where there is no telephone, no broadband, almost no connectivity in the ether. Where work has been left far behind and any lover is out of reach.

They are easy together. They have grown as close as blood family over the many years of knowing. They are silent often, contentedly sharing each others’ thoughts. They read, listen to music, walk for miles across the wild countryside, laugh at the same things. They eat and drink well. Expensively and healthily. He writes. She designs.

She is tall, elegant, slim, intelligent, shy and blonde. He is taller, silver, long-limbed, distinctive, creative, with friendly but sometimes piercing eyes.  They are a well matched couple.

But they never, ever fuck.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Anne Magill

 
22 Comments

Posted by on July 31, 2013 in Wears my ring

 

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A private dance

Private Dancer by Jack Vettriano

I adore striptease.

I have been fortunate to have had more than my share of women dance for me.

Sometimes bathed in the sensual glow of a flickering candles,  Others in the bold exposure of an adoring spotlight. Once or twice in the quiet hush of a room flooded silver and cool by the moon. Even in an English garden, to a radio, and the sunshine peeping from behind a cloud.

And also captured on camera from some distant place, the lens becoming my eyes. The perfection of swaying bodies. throats infused with gentle blush, heads bowed in shyness, movements full of a desire to please.

Such deep mutual pleasure loses no intimacy across the miles.

I have written before of favourite songs.  Here is another.

The opening guitar always sends a shiver down my spine

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art: Private Dancer by Jack Vettriano

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17 Comments

Posted by on July 17, 2013 in Erotica, Still Life

 

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Stand Still

Thomas-Saliot5

I have seen so much beauty.

Yet it still has the power to excite me, to thrill me, to captivate me. To enrapture, to enthrall, to fascinate, to intrigue, to mesmerize.

I think of you on this sultry summer’s night, the air thick with warmth, scent and desire. Strains of almost-heard music on the faint breeze.The sound of a home-bound train in the long, long distance. Animals stirring in the undergrowth. A hunting owl calling to its mate. The river quietly whispering beneath the bridge.

I picture you in a summer dress, the skirt flowing like a sea about your legs, the bodice clinging tightly to your sweet breasts, the straps emphasizing the geometry of your exquisite shoulders. Your skin perfect in the candlelight.

I imagine you, and I catch my breath as your fingers toy with the first in a line of buttons.

I have seen so much beauty.

But yours makes time stand still.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Thomas Saliot

 
32 Comments

Posted by on July 15, 2013 in Erotica, Still Life

 

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Chant Revisited

fabian_perez_paola on the couch

 

Chant

I will chant your name

The chords beneath my fingers
no longer break the silence
with words I cannot find.
Only hunger resonates.

I will chant your name,

I will chant your name
in this night of endless yearning,
drowning in the echoes
yet thirsty beyond belief.

I will chant your name

Your eyes have held me captive
Starved me without thinking,
crucified my days.
Yet our suffering is the same.

I will chant your name

I will chant your name
A hymn to aching distance
Until all latitude means nothing
Only lines to score desire.

I will chant your name.

Your body will dance before me
a vision of solemn beauty
numbing me with need.
A longing beyond your golden skin.

I will chant your name

I will chant your name

I will chant your name …

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Fabian Perez

 
54 Comments

Posted by on July 2, 2013 in D/s, Poetry

 

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