A Passing Interest - Redux

Another wonderful photo, JAF. Excellent use of high contrast, so that even though you're working in color this time, the splashes of pink and inks seem exaggerated against your pale skin.

Trying to figure what to make of the way your head and shoulders/arms disappear into the void, along with legs below the knee. Commentary on being viewed as a sex object? But the poem suggests agency, in particular sexual agency. OK to be used for sex if you choose the using, maybe do some using yourself? Stop thinking (no head), let someone else please your supine self (no hands), and goddamn it, take the shortcut to Grandma's House. The Big Bad's a-waiting.

Terrific rendering of the poem by you. Don't know Nikita Gill. Have to look into her. If you're interested in another poetic reconsideration of an iconic young woman in peril literary figure, try Sharon Olds' poem about Nancy Drew. I'm away from my books at the moment, and I can't find the specific poem online. I'll send it to you when I'm able.

More sexiness plus food for thought, JAF. Win-win. Always enjoy your posts. Thanks for sharing.:rose:

Thank you, Nicky. :rose: As always you do a terrific job of looking through the photo to find hidden meanings. There are times I feel like a headless body- usually caused by the random lurkers who think any woman posting a photo wishes to be told explicit things. There are also times when I open up the front door and beckon the Wolf inside. He may be bigger, stronger, and more frightening...but I am the one in charge and will set the tone for things to come.

I guess both really.

Funny - boobs do the same thing to me.

Weird how that happens, right?
 
...and sketch. Maybe you could sketch out some new tattoos to cover all the broken parts.

I could, though that's just tryin' to "gild the lily" (as momma used to say).

There's nothing "broken", superficially, and some tender care will help mend the rest.
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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Wow... That is amazing, never read that before. Thank you for sharing it, it's truly a wonderful sentiment.
You are also as very beautiful and stunning as always. :heart:
:kiss::rose:
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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I honestly didn't know that but now you mentioned it, I have quite a few.
Absolutely Lovely Shot of You. :rose::rose:
 
Wow... That is amazing, never read that before. Thank you for sharing it, it's truly a wonderful sentiment.
You are also as very beautiful and stunning as always. :heart:
:kiss::rose:

It hits home, right? Makes you think a bit and maybe sigh a little. Thank you, Shyguy. My muse was moving me to work that day, albeit gently, but I was on the fence about posting this; it felt melancholy.

Great thread! I love the way you do your pics. :)

Hey you! You find your way to my humble abode. Thanks for the kind words, hon.

I honestly didn't know that but now you mentioned it, I have quite a few.
Absolutely Lovely Shot of You. :rose::rose:

I think we all have them with some being stronger than others. :rose: Thanks, Mike.
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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So very much into that photo!

I like the take on memory ghosts as well. How some things just stick with you and other moments just drift away.
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

https://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=2100908&stc=1&d=1595799098


Your beauty is imprinted in my memory.
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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Hey hottie!! Looking damn fine as always!! 💋
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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Hi, JAF. I have a few minutes when the world isn't lining up to make demands on me, so thought I'd see if you have a new post. I'm not disappointed.

Memory ghosts, huh? Not familiar with the phrase or the author, but definitely get it. There are songs that practically conjure someone beside me. There are a handful I can't finish playing. Too painful. Almost literal ghosts.

So what's the ghost memory you're experiencing in this pose? A fond one, I hope, given your parted lips (not quite a smile) and the sweet, modest negligee.

But it is a ghost. It's almost eerie how the light bounces off your exposed skin like a reflective strip. And the violet-tinted highlights are almost otherworldly. Your face is 3/4 obscured, making it hard to read. Your arms are behind your back, almost like a firing squad. Is the ghost memory something you don't want to relive? Is it a memory of something that was out of your control?

Lots of questions with this one, an enigma. Still fun to contemplate. And your skill is always a pleasure to appreciate.

Thanks so much for sharing.:rose:
 
I like the idea of memory ghosts. Got a few myself. Probably inhabit a few. Ghostly images of me, flitting through peoples minds. Some good. Some bad.

Love the shot!
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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I think we all do have ghosts...mine are just not this delicious.
 
Do you know what a memory ghost is? It’s not an actual ghost, of course. It’s the pizzeria that takes you back to your first kiss. It’s the song that brings back those long summer nights. It’s the movie you can’t see without missing your old best friend. It’s the book you used as an escape during a rough time. A memory ghost is a memory that’s so strong, it’s left an invisible mark so it can never be forgotten.

Emily Hall

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I am not quite sure I have heard it said like that before but I like it. Ever wonder what memory ghosts lead to you? For myself - I hope I am at the end Ofer least one or two for people I have known over the years.

And, such a sexy photo! :kiss:
 
Apologies for my lack of joking and usual word play in the following responses- my brain is dead at the moment.


So very much into that photo!

I like the take on memory ghosts as well. How some things just stick with you and other moments just drift away.

I am not quite sure I have heard it said like that before but I like it. Ever wonder what memory ghosts lead to you? For myself - I hope I am at the end Ofer least one or two for people I have known over the years.

And, such a sexy photo! :kiss:

Thanks, Steady. Seems you liked it enough to post twice about it!

Your beauty is imprinted in my memory.

Awwww, Todger. :rose: Thanks, hon. You're way too sweet to me.

Hey hottie!! Looking damn fine as always!! 💋

Haha.. heya, hottie. How you doin'? 😏 Thanks for swinging by and spreading some love.

Hi, JAF. I have a few minutes when the world isn't lining up to make demands on me, so thought I'd see if you have a new post. I'm not disappointed.

Memory ghosts, huh? Not familiar with the phrase or the author, but definitely get it. There are songs that practically conjure someone beside me. There are a handful I can't finish playing. Too painful. Almost literal ghosts.

So what's the ghost memory you're experiencing in this pose? A fond one, I hope, given your parted lips (not quite a smile) and the sweet, modest negligee.

But it is a ghost. It's almost eerie how the light bounces off your exposed skin like a reflective strip. And the violet-tinted highlights are almost otherworldly. Your face is 3/4 obscured, making it hard to read. Your arms are behind your back, almost like a firing squad. Is the ghost memory something you don't want to relive? Is it a memory of something that was out of your control?

Lots of questions with this one, an enigma. Still fun to contemplate. And your skill is always a pleasure to appreciate.

Thanks so much for sharing.:rose:

Or maybe the photo is someone elses memory ghost and I'm just the pawn to bring it to the surface.

An enigma? No, the answer is so simple it's over looked...
As always, thank you, Nick for looking below the surface and making my head spin with your words. :rose:

I like the idea of memory ghosts. Got a few myself. Probably inhabit a few. Ghostly images of me, flitting through peoples minds. Some good. Some bad.

Love the shot!

I believe we're all memory ghosts to someone or another.
:rose: Thank you, Paul.

I think we all do have ghosts...mine are just not this delicious.

If I was your ghost, you would probably have a different opinion on that... :p. I like shenanigans and would probably tie your shoelaces together each night or steal all of the batteries at the first hint of a storm.
 
A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

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A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

attachment.php




I love the b&w silhouette, fantastic. :heart::heart:
 
A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

https://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=2101200&stc=1&d=1596163233



A beautiful silhouette even down to your lovely hard nipples. Excited or cold?
 
A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

attachment.php




Artistically erotic and arousing. Truly beautiful and alluring.
:rose::kiss:
 
A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet



zowie!

sensuous
erotic
delicious.
 
A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

attachment.php



Posts like this remind me why I keep coming to your thread, JAF. It's not just the "purdy pitchers," as they say in Paris (Texas, maybe).

Some of my fondest memories are mornings like this, languorous and sexy, with poetry and coffee, the streaming sunlight delicious on bare skin, almost a trois pour la menage. Your silhouette, with highlighted curls and a leisurely stretch, captures the moment perfectly.

I'm not familiar with Faudet, had to look him up, but I appreciate the imagery. The scent of old books is so arousing. (Yes, I'm under professional care.:rolleyes:) That final image, of butter melting on croissants, evokes the way such mornings want to lead to a slow yielding, like the pat of butter melting, to desire, a duet danced in celebration of being alive, in love.

Your last post, the memory ghost, makes me wonder if this is another. Yours? If so, I hope it's one that makes you smile fondly.

As always, JAF, I look forward to whatever you come up with and share.:rose:
 
Outstanding

A Morning in Paris

She wore the perfume
of pages unturned,
The scent of old books
Upon delicate fingers,
A hint of sunshine
Captured within curls
Of wind swept hair.

A morning made
With poetry
And swirling milk,
In coffee sipped
While Paris wakes,
The words she read
In a dawn's pale light--
How butter melts
On hot croissants.

Michael Faudet

attachment.php




My Dear, the above is an outstanding photograph. Composition and use of lighting is spot on.

As to "your broken-down body," I disagree. I savor your patina, experience and maturity. I especially enjoy your rich and unique character
 
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I love the b&w silhouette, fantastic. :heart::heart:

Thank you, Mike. I'm a lil' bit proud of this one and it happened on the second shot, too.

A beautiful silhouette even down to your lovely hard nipples. Excited or cold?

Cold- I'd been sweating my arse off from bringing in groceries and stripped down in front of the fan. 🤣 You're welcome for shattering the erotic illusion.

Artistically erotic and arousing. Truly beautiful and alluring.
:rose::kiss:

Thanks, Shyguy. Is it weird that after I took this I thought, "Well..that'll be hard to top. I hope I'm remembered for this one."

That is such a sight to wake to...that light play is so erotic!

Thanks, hon. How's your garden doing? Are ya giving away bushels of goodies now?

zowie!

sensuous
erotic
delicious.

*smirks* Delicious, eh? Cause of my baking skills? (There's a Peach Cobbler Bread cooling on the kitchen counter right now).

Posts like this remind me why I keep coming to your thread, JAF. It's not just the "purdy pitchers," as they say in Paris (Texas, maybe).

Some of my fondest memories are mornings like this, languorous and sexy, with poetry and coffee, the streaming sunlight delicious on bare skin, almost a trois pour la menage. Your silhouette, with highlighted curls and a leisurely stretch, captures the moment perfectly.

I'm not familiar with Faudet, had to look him up, but I appreciate the imagery. The scent of old books is so arousing. (Yes, I'm under professional care.:rolleyes:) That final image, of butter melting on croissants, evokes the way such mornings want to lead to a slow yielding, like the pat of butter melting, to desire, a duet danced in celebration of being alive, in love.

Your last post, the memory ghost, makes me wonder if this is another. Yours? If so, I hope it's one that makes you smile fondly.

As always, JAF, I look forward to whatever you come up with and share.:rose:

Ah, it's cause of my poetry choices? Way back when, I used to write my own stories/scene setters for each photo but that was before the car accident and the kiddos were younger. My brain doesn't seem able to scrounge up the energy for pretty words anymore.

I need to do Faudet some justice and buy a few of his books. From pain of heartache to kinky love- he covers it all.

No, not mine. I could never rise from bed and stretch like that- my back would give out from being popped wrong ...nor would my caffiene addiction allow me to squander precious time before my next hit. Tis a dream and nothing more.

As always, Nick, thank you. :rose:

My Dear, the above is an outstanding photograph. Composition and use of lighting is spot on.

As to "your broken-down body," I disagree. I savor your patina, experience and maturity. I especially enjoy your rich and unique character

Thank you. :eek:. The only edit used was Snapseed's Hdr option and a quick crop cause it was left side heavy.

:rose: Rich? Nah...more like bitter like the first sip of coffee in the morning.
 
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