Postings261

from The Almond by Nedjima The Story Badra is a 22-year-old Muslim widow who flees the small North African town of Imchouk and a bad 5-year marriage to an older man, to take refuge with her Uncle Slimane's iconoclastic ex-wife. In Imchouk, it was expected that Badra's life should be limited by her husband's wishes, but at Aunt Selma's, Badra begins to think about how she wants to live from now on. She recalls her youthful curiosity about sex — what other girls' and women's bodies were like, her first attempts to spy on men, her fascination with the two beautiful pro s tit… Weiterlesen

Throbbing Gristle Founder Explores Porn as Art in Memoir Industrial music pioneer Cosey Fanni Tutti on why she was called one of the "wreckers of civilization" by government official By Judy Berman. Rolling Stone May 17, 2017 A young woman, naked except for a pair of thigh-high nylons and a fur stole draped between her breasts, reclines on her back. Her dark hair is mussed, her mouth hangs open and her left hand curls suggestively over her pubic hair. It’s an alluring photograph, but also an unremarkable one. The stockings and the orgasmic facial expression and… Weiterlesen

Shemale Soapland Scene 3 - Pornographic Art https://xhamster.com/videos/shemalesoapland-scene-3-xhPYcLQ The title of this little gem of a film belies the fact that it is a full three-act play within itself. I came across it today by serendipity. It brought joy to my morning, an unexpected treasue! For me, it is a truly great piece of erotic cinema. I was compelled to describe in detail just some of the elements that struck me with their beauty. I describe Act 1 in detail, but the other two acts are just as well-choreographed and filmed. A hat tip to @Hiruusman who said it was o… Weiterlesen

The House BY WARSAN SHIRE i Mother says there are locked rooms inside all women; kitchen of lust, bedroom of grief, bathroom of apathy. Sometimes the men - they come with keys, and sometimes, the men - they come with hammers. ii Nin soo joog laga waayo, soo jiifso aa laga helaa, I said Stop, I said No and he did not listen. iii Perhaps she has a plan, perhaps she takes him back to hers only for him to wake up hours later in a bathtub full of ice, with a dry mouth, looking down at his new, neat procedure. iv I point to my body and say Oh this old thi… Weiterlesen

A Meeting On a sheer peak of joy we meet; Below us hums the abyss; Death either way allures our feet If we take one step amiss. One moment let us drink the blue Transcendent air together— Then down where the same old work’s to do In the same dull daily weather. We may not wait . . . yet look below! How part? On this keen ridge But one may pass. They call you—go! My life shall be your bridg. -Edith Wharton Note : Edith Wharton was a lesbian… Weiterlesen

he said, “sex doesn’t mean much to me.” i said, “then you’re doing it wrong.” Make love … Make love like you have no secrets like you’ve never been left never been hurt like the world don’t owe you a single wretched thing. – Warsan Shire… Weiterlesen

lifted Is there anything more levitating than arching back and folding free the torso at the very thought of another? Not just any other, but the one. Just the pad of the finger on the place where I open and a field of birds, wings flapping furiously, rush out in the sure sense prediction of the coming storm. - Poem by Sarah, Redamancy Lit blog, 2011.… Weiterlesen

Your Feet by Pablo Neruda When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you, and that your sweet weight rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, the doubled purple of your nipples, the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.… Weiterlesen

Sex Games opens in a Parisian night club. The atmosphere is exciting,opulent, fun, upbeat. The music pulses, the cocktails are flowing and the dancefloor is full. Clea Gaultier looks so alluring and sensual, dancing and teasing ont he floor, then boldly taking two guys to fuck them in th bathroom. An emancipated, powerful, modern woman? Her dress is perfect. Her two young studs look classy too, nice Armani shirts but she soon tastes and fucks their cocks. Mia Malkova playing her more conventional sister who is at the club with her husband, a guy Clea thinks too vanilla. Mia's outfit is mor… Weiterlesen

This morning, my friend Nickyhere asked us to think sexy, everywhere. This is my way of saying yes t that, and sharing something erotic. Basket of Figs by Ellen Bass Bring me your pain, love. Spread it out like fine rugs, silk sashes, warm eggs, cinnamon and cloves in burlap sacks. Show me the detail, the intricate embroidery on the collar, tiny shell buttons, the hem stitched the way you were taught, pricking just a thread, almost invisible. Unclasp it like jewels, the gold still hot from your body. Empty your basket of figs. Spill your wine. That hard nugget of… Weiterlesen

‘They preferred me naked and silent’: ‘Emmanuelle,’ the erotic milestone that makes people uncomfortable 50 years later By Ianko López El Pais. January 2024 An effective starting point to delve into Emmanuelle (Just Jaeckin, 1974) is, without a doubt, its ubiquitous poster, which presents leading actress Sylvia Kristel sitting on a rattan chair, semi-nude, decorated with a string of pearls. Not only because it includes almost all the elements of the film – even if the scene never actually appears on screen – but also because each of these components is a clue to… Weiterlesen

A great women's tennis match is a clash of two sleekly honed bodies and minds, and the question of who finally comes out on top is irrelevant to the erotic thrill of watching the struggle itself. Point by point, game by game, set by set, women's tennis delivers televisual sexiness and power, intrigue and resentment, and erotic thrills in the intensity, the closeups and the delicious slow motion replays. It is sport as porn.… Weiterlesen

LUNCH by Billie Eilish I could eat that girl for lunch And she dances on my tongue Tastes like she might be the one And I can never get enough I could buy her so much stuff It's a craving, not a crush Call me when you're there Said, "I brought you something rare" And I left it under "Claire" So now she's coming up the stairs So I'm pulling up a chair And I'm putting up my hair I could eat that girl for lunch and she— I could eat that girl for lunch and she— I could eat that girl for lunch and she— I could eat that girl for lunch And she dances on my tongue Tastes like she mi… Weiterlesen

Dawn By Radhika Pradhan Lesbian erotica Before I start my tale, I want you to visualize the space that I grew up in, the space that designed my body, the space that viewed me and the space that mandated me. You enter a deserted draught land; gloomy, lazing winds blow dried leaves on the spaces that you cover. All around are dried twigs hung from aging desecrated trees. The melancholy in everything you see makes you want to run away, but your body is shackled by the same force that keeps the dying trees erect in its space. In my case, my shackles were the society. D… Weiterlesen

Why I Crave Ribs Tonight by Aimee Nezhukumatathil Baby, don’t even come near me with that napkin. Just let me at each bone, slick & sweet with smoky sugar sauce. See all the steam when I nudge all the meat off with my tongue? (The only kind of cloud we see this lemonade day in June). All this driving & I need to feel food in my hands no knife or fork tonight. I want to burn my lips just enough, but not too much it hurts to kiss. & that reminds me of the glowing heart inside me. How each rib curves around, locks tight in neat snaps along the back—make your hand li… Weiterlesen

SMALL M U R D E R S When Cleopatra received Antony on her cedarwood ship, she made sure he would smell her in advance across the sea: perfumed sails, nets sagging with rosehips and crocus draped over her bed, her feet and hands rubbed in almond oil, cinnamon, and henna. I knew I had you when you told me you could not live without my scent, bought pink bottles of it, creamy lotions, a tiny vial of perfume—one drop lasted all day. They say Napoleon told Josephine not to bathe for two weeks so he could savor her raw scent, but hardly any mention is ever made of their love of violets. Her signat… Weiterlesen

The Last Orgasm by Tobias Wray (2023) Stars and people and daffodils won’t last forever. Hands down, forever will succumb to a single sensation, one last heaven, one last shudder lost voice carried over the winds of the body, the canyons of the hands in a shower, snow or warm? Last ashes of satisfaction dance above an open mouth, teeth like light in an emptied room, the wet music of the tongue. Somebody will find the edge to all of humanity’s joy, a flood, a punctuation will flood her with its certainty, or them, or us, all at once, and that lonely breach will ripple through,… Weiterlesen

Emily Willis Sadly, Emily Willis, who retired from porn two years ago, has been in the news later as she is in a coma after collapsing while an inpatient at a celebrity rehab center in Florida. Her family had a successful fundraiser in order to transfer her back to a hospital in Utah where they can be nearby. Her father and brother have been active in this, and her brother recently denied the inital reports that she had an o v e r d o s e as nothing was found in the tests after her cardiac arrest. However, there were reports that she weighed just 70 pounds at admission, so that in itself s… Weiterlesen

Australian tattooed mom and beauty Liandra Dahl's latest studio masturbation film for Ifeelmyself was an essay on peace and beauty. That's only available on the IFM site, but here is some older Liandra action to savour. https://xhamster.com/videos/liandra-dahl-annabelle-lee-13461384 Sara Teasdale's poem, "Peace" came to mind as Liandra relaxed after her orgasm. PEACE by Sara Teasdale (1884 – 1933) Peace flows into me As the tide to the pool by the shore; It is mine forevermore, It will not ebb like the sea. I am the pool of blue That worships the vivid sky; My hopes were h… Weiterlesen

Erotica Sweet By Salima Rivera For Oscar—There are no words When I think of you babe, a soft snow falls lightly down my back turning into steam on my full brown thighs. An ocean appears threatening to dash me against the hot sand, spinning me helplessly into the mouth of a hungry sky. C*c**ne and weed envy the high you give me unable to re-create the intensity of the world you conjure up with a snap of a smile. When you’re on my mind, I bubble and boil cooking like thick salsa spicing up the air around me. I breathe a music Mick Jagger can only dream about, dancing to an… Weiterlesen