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Monthly Archives: July 2016

Mermaid Parade

 

Art by Matt Story

I had never heard of the Mermaid Parade

For those who do not know it, it takes place every year at the beginning of summer in Coney Island, New York. As well as the mainly marine costumes, it is also known for nudity. It features in this song (which is how I found out about it).

(This is another in my occasional series of music I like that you may not have heard).

This song is by Phosphorescent  (Matthew Houck) and was released in 2010. It touched me deeply for a number of reasons at the time, relating to my personal life. It is so sad. The last verse:

I know all about your new man
Your new, older, old man
And I heard that he’s married,
Oh, you be careful Amanda.
Yeah, I found a new friend too,
And yeah she’s pretty and she’s small,
But God damn it, Amanda,
Oh, God damn it all.

always still me out – although the context and meaning is unique to my situation.

I hope you enjoy.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Words and music by Phosphorescent

Art by Matt Story

 
2 Comments

Posted by on July 31, 2016 in Lovers Past, Music

 

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Collide

Art by Hamish Blakely

We have reached

that moment

that wild

breathless

precious

joyous

aching

intimate

perfect

almost holy

moment

when souls

collide.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely

 

 
8 Comments

Posted by on July 30, 2016 in Poetry, Still Life

 

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All afternoon

bondage_by_neil__whiteley-d5b3wjd

A cool, darkened room.

Outside the sun is blistering the wooden shutters. Narrow shafts of light sear between the wood, striping the walls and ceiling.

And streaming all over you.

They band your body, striping you cream and coffee coloured

You are naked, face up, on the white-sheeted bed.

You are stretched out in a star shape. Your wrists and ankles are secured to the four corners by ropes through steel D rings on strong black leather cuffs. The bindings permit little movement. No matter how hard you tug and strain against them

You have been here for almost an hour. I have caressed you, kissed you, licked you, stroked you. I have nibbled you, kneaded you, and lightly scratched you. I have teased you with my pin wheel, with a soft brush, with a scarf of silk, and with my twelve stranded flogger, trailed over your skin.

And with two of the dozen toys that I have carefully arranged on the oak bedside table.

I have a vintage Hitachi wand in my right hand. It whirrs rather noisily yet it is a faithful servant. I am applying it expertly to your already swollen and glistening sex. With my left hand I am tugging and pinching your hard-as-berry nipples. Your body is bucking and arching, wanting to push away from the wand’s relentless, dimpled, vibrating touch yet at the same time to thrust yourself against it.

Your breathing is urgent and hard. You are panting and crying, sighing and moaning. I know you are desperate to speak, to shout something at me. But you do not. I have forbidden you words.

Your body is dancing now. Strands of your hair are damp and clinging with perspiration. Your face is suffused and flushed with deep arousal. Your eyes roll back. Your mouth is open.

Your muscles tighten. You shudder. The orgasm reverberates through you.

It is your third climax.

The toy continues to send spasms through you. You make small noises of protestation. I smile. After a while I switch it off and idly but dangerously trail my fingers over your inner thighs.

I consider which device to use next.

Later I will reposition you face down.

Later still I will fuck you. Hard.

I have all afternoon ahead of me.

I am torturing you with pleasure.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph by Neil Whiteley

I wrote this two years ago. But perhaps new readers will enjoy …

 
21 Comments

Posted by on July 29, 2016 in D/s, Erotica, Lovers Past

 

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Symphony

Art by Emilia Wilk

There is music

between them

a cadence

a pulse

a rhythm

that resonates

across the miles

across the borders

across the mountains

across the seas.

 

A harmony of longing

a concert of desire

a symphony of need.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art (I believe to be) by Emilia Wilk

 

 
4 Comments

Posted by on July 28, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

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Sheet

Art by Steve Hanks

Sometimes

she is so taut with desire

that the touch and caress

of the sheet

brushing against her naked skin

causes her to catch her breath

bite her lip

and slide her hands

between her thighs

aching for release.

.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Steve Hanks

 
10 Comments

Posted by on July 27, 2016 in Erotica, Still Life

 

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Ready

Art by Jimmy Law

She has discovered him.

She has watched him, studied him, scrutinised him, reviewed him, analysed him.

She has surveyed him, evaluated him, interpreted him, considered him.

She has pondered, reflected and deliberated.

She has read him carefully.

She has nervously sipped at the heady wine of his dark religion.

She has tasted it on her tongue, held it in her mouth, felt it slide down her throat.

She has felt dizzy at his power, his control, his command.

She has begun to understand the nature and strength of her own self, her own needs, her own desires..

She is ready for his seduction, his instruction, his domination.

She is ready to be his.

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Jimmy Law

 

 
9 Comments

Posted by on July 26, 2016 in D/s

 

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Man in a suit

English-born actor Cary Grant leaving his London hotel, April 24, 1946.

English-born actor Cary Grant leaving his London hotel, April 24, 1946.

I have never quite understood it.

The fascination some women have for a man in a suit.

Perhaps my incomprehension stems from the fact that I have worn them all my working life. They have been my uniform, my wardrobe, my second skin. They have been my attire from general office to boardroom. my inevitable clothing for business travel all round the world. The archetypal Englishman dressed in a Jermyn Street suit, formal. double cuffed Egyptian cotton shirt, silk tie, cufflinks, leather handmade shoes and belt.

But the first thing I have always done on arriving home is discard the tie, remove the jacket and replace the trousers with a faded pair of comfortable Levis. Even before I pour myself a glass of wine.

I am now close to giving up work in order to write full-time (almost certainly just for pleasure rather than artistic gain – given my lack of talent and industry). This current business contract will, if all goes well, be my last. A week ago I gave a dozen of my suits to a charity store. I cannot wait to give away the rest.

Except that I will keep a few back.

Who knows when I might need to impress?

(arches a mischievous eyebrow)

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© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

The photograph, which I believe is credited to Keystone and owned by Getty Images is of the English-born actor Cary Grant. 

I wrote this a year ago. The business project stretched out far longer and more intensively than I expected, but is now, apart from a few loose ends, all but done. I am now immodest enough to call myself a writer.

And yes, I still have a half a dozen of my favourite suits hanging in the wardrobe.

 
26 Comments

Posted by on July 25, 2016 in Still Life

 

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